CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 7TH, 1902.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
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 7th, 1902, and following days,
Before the Right Hon.SIR JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt., M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WILLIAM GRANTHAM , Knt., one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Bart.; Sir DAVID EVANS , K.C.M.G., and Lieut.-Colonel Sir HORATIO DAVIES , K.C.M.G., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , Knt., GEO. WYATT TRUSCOTT , Esq., and HENRY GEO. SMALLMAN , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; ALBERT FREDERICK BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Sergeant of the said City, and JAMES ALEXANDER RENTOUL , Esq., K.C., M.P., LL.D., Deputy Judge of the City of London Court, H.M. Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol delivery holder for the said City and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
DIMSDALE, MAYOR. SIXTH 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 7 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(289) GEORGE FREDERICK PITE (37) , to stealing while employed under the Post Office a letter and postal orders for 20s. and 3s., the property of the Postmaster-General. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine months' hard labour. —
(290) ROBERT MARSDEN BEDINGHAM (22) , to stealing, while employed under the Post Office, three letters containing postal orders for 10s. 6d. 10s., and 2s. 6d. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine months' hard labour. —
(291) JAMES OLIVER GARDINER (22) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing three penny stamps, and two postal orders for 2s. 6d. and 1s., also to stealing two post letters containing postal orders for 20s. and 10s., the property of the Postmaster-General. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine months' hard labour. —
(292) WILLIAM KREH (19) , to forging and uttering a request for the payment of £5, also to forging and uttering a receipt for £5 0s. 2d., in each case with intent to defraud. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Four months in the second division. —
(293) ALBERT COOKSON CARLING (32) . to forging and uttering a banker's cheque for £25 with intent to defraud, also to stealing four cheques, the property of Lionel Walter Webster and another, his masters. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine months in the second division.
(294) WILLIAM LANE (23) , to stealing a scarf-pin from the person of Samuel James Page having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on March 5th, 1901, as John Courtney. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six other convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude. —
(296) ANDRO BACK (21) and CARL KLINGENBERG (28) , to stealing 10 gallons of paraffin oil and other articles, the property of the Mediterranean Steam Navigation Company, on the high seas. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Judgment respited. —
(297) HENRY THOMPSON (20) and WILLIAM HAYES (21) , to stealing two kit-bags and other articles, the property of Digby Maxwell Robertson Smith, and THOMPSON also to stealing a dressing bag, the property of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway Company. (See next case.)— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.]
298. THOMPSON and WILLIAM HAYES were again indicted with LILLIE HAYES for stealing a kit-bag and other articles the property of Edith Redfern. THOMPSON and WILLIAM HAYES PLEADED GUILTY . Mr. Elliott for the prosecution offered no evidence against LILLIE HAYES.
NOT GUILTY .
THOMPSON,†** Nine months' hard labour. WILLIAM HAYES,†** Twelve months' hard labour. The Recorder commended the police for their conduct of the case.
NEW COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, April 7 th and 8 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
ARTHUR UNDERWOOD . I am an upholsterer's fitter, of 54, Rippard Road, Bow. On March 17th I was in the Ship, Wormwood Street—the prisoner Woodbridge came in and called for drink, and tendered a shilling to Miss Harrisson—she took it to the till looked at it, put it in her mouth, bent it, and said "This is a bad shilling"—she put it in her mouth again and doubled it up—he said that he had changed a sovereign in Liverpool Road and got it then—she gave it back to him—he went out, and I followed him and saw him join Harris, but nothing passed between them—they walked together to Winchester House, where they began to talk—I met a policeman and followed with him—one of them went into the Crown and Cushion and the other waited outside—I then followed them to the Post Office in—Throgmorton Avenue—one went in and the other stopped outside—I went in, and Woodbridge put his hand in his hip pocket and gave something to the other who went into the Talbot—I waited outside, and the detective came out with Harris in charge.
MABEL HARRISSON . I am barmaid at the Ship. Wormwood Street, City—on March 17th, about 2 o'clock, someone gave me a bad coin for some pale and bitter ale, price 1 1/2 d.—I cannot say whether either of the prisoners were there—I asked the person how he got it—he said, "I changed a half-sovereign at a house in Liverpool Road"—he gave me a good shilling and I gave him the change—Underwood was there.
ALBERT GREENLOP (458City.) On March 17th, in the afternoon, Underwood spoke to me, and I saw the prisoners standing outside a public-house—Harris went into the Crown and Cushion, came out, and they both walked to the post-office—Harris went in and came out, and handed something to Woodbridge, who took something from his hip pocket and gave it to Harris who went into the Albert public-house followed by detective
Chapman, who I had communicated with—I saw Chapman go into the Talbot—he made a signal, and I took Woodbridge and said "Where is your mate?"—he said, "You have made a mistake, I have no mate"—I said, "You will be charged with uttering counterfeit shillings"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I searched him at the station, and found eight counterfeit shillings loose in his hip pocket, the same pocket which he had taken something out of, and £2 9s. 6d. in good money—he gave his address at a lodging-house, but he is not known there.
CHARLES CHAPMAN (City detective.) I came on the scene when the prisoners were near the Throgmorton Street Post Office, and followed Harris in, and saw him put two shillingsworth of coppers on the counter and receive the change—he came out and handed a florin to Woodbridge—I followed them to London Wall, where Woodbridge took this shilling from his pocket and handed it to Harris, who went into a public-house, put this shilling on the counter, and asked for a pony and bitter—I saw that the shilling was bad, and gave the signal to arrest the other prisoner outside—I returned to the counter, and Harris had just finished his drink, and the barmaid had put the coin in the till—she gave him 10 1/2 d. change—I spoke to her, and she handed me this shilling (produced) from the till—I then went outside and said to the two prisoners, "I am a police officer, I shall take you in custody and charge you with uttering this shilling, also a shilling at the Talbot, and a shilling at the Ship, Wormwood Street—they made no reply—we proceeded to the station, where they were charged—Woodbridge gave the* name of Frederick Williams, and Harris his name, upon which Woodbridge said, "You b----fool"—I asked Harris his address—he gave it at a common lodging-house at Holloway—Woodbridge said that he had no fixed abode—I asked him again, and he said, "King's lodging-house, Holloway," the same address as Harris—I went there and asked for them both—a sixpence and three halfpence were found on Harris—I saw the bad money found in Woodbridge's pocket.
ROSE ELLEN GOOD . I am barmaid at the Talbot—On March 17th I served somebody who I do not know with a pony and bitter, price 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling—I gave him the change, and immediately afterwards a detective spoke to me, and I showed him the coin at once—I had not lost sight of it.
Woodbridge's Defence. A gentleman in the Borough asked me to change a half-sovereign, and I did so, and when I got to the public-house the barmaid said the money was bad. This man asked me to give him 1s. to get some dinner, and I did so, and the constable arrested me.
Harris's Defence. I met Woodbridge; we went into a public-house, a man put down a half-sovereign, and he gave him some change, we went to a public-house, and the barmaid bent the shilling: he then put 8s. or 9s. away to see if they were bad also.I said, "You might lend me a shilling to get a bit of dinner."He did so, but that came out of his waistcoat pocket I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY . Five convictions were proved against WOODBRIDGE— Twelve months' hard labour ;
HARRIS— Six months' hard labour.
EDWARD BAKER PLEADED GUILTY .
ETTIE BAKER NOT GUILTY . 276 counterfeit coins were found at the prisoners' lodgings.
EDWARD BAKER— Twelve months' hard labour.
NOT GUILTY .
302. LUDWIG SCHAAF (33) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Arthur Zimmerman, and stealing forty-four cigarette cases, seventeen cigar cases, and three snuff boxes, his property. Second Count. for receiving the same.
MR. MOSES for the prosecution proceeded on the Second Count only. MR. LEYCESTER and MR. HUTTON appeared for the prisoner.
FRANK HALLAM (City Detective Sergeant.) On March 11th I went with Mr. Escofel and Byrne and another officer, to the prisoner's address, 346, Hackney Road (I had waited two hours the day before to see him, but he was not in)—we waited from 10 a.m. till 3 p.m.—when the prisoner came I said, "I am a police officer, Mr. Byrne here says you sold him some time ago two dozen cigarette cases and some cigar cases, do you recollect that?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you remember the date?"—he said, "No"—I said, "From whom did you purchase the goods?"—he said, "A traveller with a high bat and a gold chain"—I said, "Do you know his address or who he is?"—he said, "No. he has been here since for a clock"—I said, "Did not you ask him then who he was and where he came from?"—he said, "No"—I said, "How much did you pay for them?"—he said, "£2 or £2 10s., not less than £2"—I said, "Did he give you a receipt?"—he said, "No, I never keep any receipts or books"—I said, "Mr. Byrne bought the goods from you on January 5th, what time of day did you sell him them?"—he said, "About 10 a.m."—I said, "Those goods were stolen goods, and you were in possession of them two hours after the discovery of the robbery"—he said, "I did not know the goods were stolen"—the prosecutor gave him into my custody—I took him to the station—he said, "I have already made my statement."—I served a notice on the prisoner since his committal of which this (Produced) is a copy.
Cross-examined. Forty-four cigarette cases were stolen, £125 worth—the prisoner had given his correct name and address to Mr. Byrne, which I have seen in Mr. Byrne's books—the shop is about a mile from the prisoner's—when property is stolen a list is published and sent round to the pawnbrokers—this list was served on the 9th—this is it—another pawnbroker bought some—the prisoner gave me no information.
WILLIAM BYRNE . I am a pawnbroker of 68, Hyde Road, Hoxton, about a quarter of a mile from where the prisoner lives—he is a watchmaker and jeweller—I have known him since last July—on January (6th, about 2 o'clock, I bought six silver cigarette cases and a cigar case of him—I sold
the cigar case—I can only swear to one of these cigarette cases (Produced)—I had bought silver goods of him before—the others were this class of goods—they have been out of my possession—I sold three of them, one has my stock mark on it—he said that he bought them of a traveller who had no sale for them, and it was no use keeping them in stock—I paid him £3 10s. for them, and put them in my window—on January 19th I sold the cigarcase for £1 10s., and on February 24th three of the cigarette cases to Messrs. Dodd—I received the police notice on January 10th, in which these goods are described.
Cross-examined. I do not remember reading the police notice—I paid a reasonable price, 3s. 6d. per ounce—they are not made in a mould—I knew his name and address, and I entered it in my book after he left—they were sold in a perfectly open manner.
Re-examined. I receive these notices regularly and look through them as a rule—I do not remember whether I saw these things on the list—engraving would not add to the value of the cigarette cases—I should expect to buy them for 5s. 6d.—the lot weighed 21 ounces.
FREDERICK DODD . I am a pawnbroker and jeweller of 84, Theobald's Road—on February 24th I purchased three silver cigarette cases from Mr. Byrne for £2 7s. 6d.—I identify one of them by the fusee compartment—there is nothing extraordinary in the make or pattern—the other two are like those I bought—I have bought things before, but not cigarette cases, of Byrne, and he has bought largely of me—his place at Hoxton is about 2 1/2 miles from mine—on March 10th Mr. Escofel's manager called when I was absent, and identified one of his markings.
Cross-examined. I had four cases in the window—those were put aside by the detective—one had been in stock about eighteen months—six were numbered—No. 6 bears the prosecutor's initials—Zimmerman, who supplies pawnbrokers, is the maker—after being in the market they are done up as new—I bought some of these of White at 4s. 6d. an ounce—there is no great value in the workmanship, I can buy them at 6s. the ounce and get three months' credit in the regular way of trade.
Re-examined. I would not give 4s. an ounce for No. 3 because it is unsaleable and an ugly make.I would not buy it except among a lot.
RAMON DE ESCOFEL . I am manager to Arthur and John Zimmerman, silversmiths, of 55, Holborn Viaduct—on Monday, January 6th, about 9.30 a.m., I found one of two doors, the customers' door, broken open, the alarm bell removed, the lock broken—I was last there on the Saturday—I leave as a rule about 11 a.m. on Saturdays—I examined some of the stock—I saw gaps in the cases, and that one of the cigarette cases had been taken out—I subsequently missed forty-four silver cigarette cases, seventeen silver cigar cases, and three silver snuff-boxes—the total value is about £125—five of these cases produced are part of the robbery—Nos. 3 and 5 were in stock on the Saturday previous; No. 3 was in the show-case—we make so few of No. 5, only two were sold—we have traced two, two were stolen, this is one—the other that we had in stock I have in my pocket—we keep in stock similar ones to Nos. 1,2, and 4—these are the same goods as those that were stolen—in consequence of what Cohen told me on March
8th, I went on March 10th to Dodd's shop where I identified Nos. 3, 4, and 5—Dodd was not present—No. 6 is our make, but we did not miss any of those articles—the same day, March 10th, I went with Sergeant Hallam to the prisoner's place—we were not able to find him—we went again and waited from 10 till 3, when Hallam told the prisoner he was a detective police sergeant, and asked if he possessed any silver cigarette cases, and whether he had sold any to Byrne—he said that he had bought five cigarette and cigar cases for £2 or £2 10s. from a man with a high hat, who wore a gold chain, and who had called once since about a clock or something—he said he had no receipts, and did not keep any books—Hallam told him that Byrne had bought those goods on January 6th about 10 a.m.—I gave the prisoner into custody—the value of the five cases is about £6 10s., and the cigarette case 45s. if not more, to sell to shopkeepers—they were quite new and in our show cases ready for sale—the average price of the four cases is 7s. an ounce to dealers—the sides are stamped in dies, the wires soldered on, and they are engraved by the hands of skilful workmen; a silversmith could tell that—No. 5 is a special combination and weighs about 3 1/2 ounces, and only a first-class workman could make it.
Cross-examined. The value of silver varies, but the market price is about 2s. 1d. per ounce for a large quantity, leaving 5s. an ounce for the workmanship—even if second-hand or in an inferior condition I should be glad to buy at 4s. 6d. to 5s. an ounce—No. 3 is not old, it was made in 1894 or 1895.
SOLOMON COHEN . I am a traveller for Mr. Zimmerman—I identify all of these cases but No. 6—on March 8th I saw Nos. 3, 4, and 5 in Dodd's shop window—I last saw Nos. 3 and 5 on Friday and Saturday, January 3rd and 4th.
Cross-examined. Ours is a large business—only Escofel goes out, but he does not carry goods—No. 3 had been in stock about three years—it is heavier than cases should be of that size—our price was 24s., according to the weight.
CHARLES GREENOUGH (140City.) I was present on March 11th when the prisoner was arrested—I heard Hallam's evidence at the police court—it is correct—I asked him for a pawnbroker's list of January 9th—he said January 27th was the earliest date he could find, that he did not keep them, but used them on the counter as waste paper—he keeps a small jeweller's shop, chiefly watches and wooden clocks—I saw no silver articles but watches—there were tobacco, cigarettes, common bracelets, and spectacles in the window.
ALFRED ROGERS (487 J.) I arrested the prisoner in 1899—he was charged with shop-breaking—I produce a certificate of his conviction on June 7th, 1899, for attempted shop-breaking and having in his possession by night house-breaking implements without lawful excuse—he was sentenced to eight months' hard labour in the name of Ludwig Schaaf.
WILLIAM WALLACE (222City.) On January 6th I was called by a porter to the prosecutor's premises—the door had been broken open, the door clamp broken away, and the lock broken off—inside the warehouse on a counter I found this jemmy, and on another counter this chisel.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he bought similar cases, except that they were plain, of a traveller who called at his shop in the ordinary way of trade, and who, he believed, attended sales, and that he sold them to pawnbrokers, but that the articles produced were not those articles.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to the conviction of misdemeanor deposed to on June 6 th, 1899,and he was stated to be an associate of convicted persons. Four years' penal servitude. The Jury censured the pawnbrokers for not being more careful in receiving the goods.
303. JOHN THOMPSON and GEORGE ROWLEY , PLEADED GUILTY , and to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Adolph Rudolph Tappe, stealing a pair of nut-crackers, a sugar-sifter and other articles, THOMPSON having been convicted at this Court in the name of Ernest Turner on June 28th, 1897, and Rowley at Clerkenwell, on February 19th, 1901, in the name of Frederick White. Three years' penal servitude each , and
(304) WILLIAM HARRIS (25) to two indictments for receiving two kit-bags, the property of the London, Brighton and South Coast Co. and the Great Eastern Railway, well knowing them to be have been stolen, also to stealing an overcoat, the property of John Potts Wardle, having been convicted of felony at this Court on March 12th. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Three years' penal servitude.
MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted.
WILLIAM LEE . I am a tailor—on March 1st, I was in the Grapes public-house, Gerrard Street, Soho—I heard a disturbance going on outside about 9.20 p.m.—I went out, and saw a crowd of fifty or sixty—some were shouting "Take that shooter from him"—the prisoner was brandishing what I thought was a revolver in his hand—I followed him with the crowd from Macclesfield Street through Shaftesbury Avenue where I seized him from behind—he struggled violently—we fell—he got one of his arms free, and I felt as if I had been punched in the neck on the left side—having got to his feet, he made a rush into the crowd—I followed and seized him again—he struggled violently—I got hold of his hand, gave him a twist, and secured this knife—I took one arm and led him towards the station with a constable, till another constable took the arm, and I followed to the station—when the other constable came up I felt a stick in my neck, and said "I believe I have been stabbed"—at the station I was seen by a doctor—I believe the prisoner was sober—I did not see any violence used on him.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not hear anybody ask you for money—I had been drinking with my two sisters-in-law, and had not come out of the public-house more than three minutes—I did not hear any shouting "There's the Yank, do it for him this time"—I saw no one near enough to hit you, but the crowd got round to prevent your getting away—If anybody had hit you behind the head I should have seen it.
JOHN STEWART . I am a printer—on March 1st I was in the Grapes public-house—Lee was in the bar—I saw the prisoner in the doorway as I went to go out—he said "I will tell you what I will do with you "I will put two shots in you"—he produced a pistol from his inside pocket—I saw a knife when the constable had it, but I am sure this was not a knife—I asked him not to be silly, and persuaded him to go away and went back in the public-house for him to go away—that was about 8.55 p.m.—in about a quarter of an hour I heard screaming at the corner about four doors away—I went out and saw the prisoner surrounded by about thirty persons, brandishing something, and the people were shouting that he had a shooter in his hand—the prosecutor must have followed me out—he tried to jump at the prisoner—the prisoner backed up the street swinging something in his hand—he walked backwards—presently the prosecutor closed with him, and both fell—I tried to get hold of the prisoner, and saw something in his hand that I thought was a revolver till I saw this knife drop—we held him till the police came—the prosecutor said "I am stuck." and I saw blood—the prisoner was bleeding severely after the struggle on the ground—several people attempted to hit him with their hands when struggling on the ground—I had not seen anybody hit him up to that time.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not ask you for anything.
ADOLPHUS TEBBETT . I am a District messenger boy—on March 1st, I was on the top of an omnibus—I saw a disturbance in Macclesfield Street, got down, and followed down Shaftesbury Avenue towards Piccadilly Circus—the prisoner ran, and the prosecutor ran after him and seized him at the back by his two shoulders, and both fell at the corner of the street, and there was a struggle, and a crowd collected—the police came—the prisoner was bleeding on the left of his lips after they got up.
WILLIAM PRICE (270C.) On March 1st, I saw a disturbance in Gerrard Street, and Macclesfield Street, and Shaftesbury Avenue, where the prosecutor held the prisoner by the left arm, and said, "This man hare stabbed me, constable"—the prisoner said, "And someone hare stabbed me"—I saw blood on both—I took the prisoner's right arm—after we had gone a few yards someone handed me this knife, and said, "This knife I picked up in the street"—the prisoner said, "That is my knife, I dropped it out of my pocket when I was on the ground"—there were blood stains on it—it was wet—it does not shut—we went to the station.
ALEXANDER MITCHEL . M.D.I practice in Regent Street, and am Divisional Surgeon of police—I was called to the station on March 1st, and examined the prisoner—he was suffering from extensive wounds on his left wrist, three tendons were severed, and one important artery—there was also a punctured wound on his right thigh, but not deep—he was sober—I sent him to the hospital—a few minutes afterwards I examined the prosecutor—he was suffering from three punctured wounds on the left side of his neck—each wound was not less than three-quarters of an inch deep: one was about three-quarters of an inch, and the others a quarter of an inch long—the longest wound was three inches below the left ear, and just escaped the jugular vein—there was also a punctured
wound over the region of his heart, which I dared not probe—he was wearing a thick Irish freize waistcoat—the cuts went through the coat collar, a new neck tie, and his shirt sleeves, requiring considerable force—I found fresh blood on the knife blade,—the knife produced would cause the wounds on either—the prisoner's wrist showed a cut from a kind of dragging blow—below his tie was a punctured wound—they might have been caused in the struggle.
WILLIAM FITT (Inspector C). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought in—he was weak from loss of blood, and almost fainting—he said, "I was set upon by a mob: I carried the knife in America, where I had to use it, and I used it again to-night"—I showed him the knife, and he said, "That is what I did it with"—in answer to my question where the sheath was he said, "I have no sheath, I wrap an old handkerchief round it, and that is what they thought was a shooter"—he was seen by the doctor, and sent to the hospital—he was charged that night—he said nothing about the charge.
Cross-examined. I wrote down your words as you said them: "That is what I did it with,' not "That is what it may have been done with."
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. He was stated to have been discharged from the Army, and to have undergone six months' imprisonment for striking his superior officer . Twelve months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 8 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(307) ALFRED REYNOLDS (38) , to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £222 6s., having been convicted on March 1st, 1898, at Clerkenwell Sessions. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Seventeen other convictions were proved against him. Seven years' penal servitude. —
(308) ALEXANDER EDLER (37) , to obtaining by false pretences twenty-four cases of whisky from Peter Charles Sturgeon, also to obtaining by false pretences from Charles Thomas twenty-four cases of whisky, also to obtaining from Lawrence William Bellinger and the Quadrant Cycle Company two bicycles, in each case with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony on October 21st, 1895, as Alphonse Armour. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen months' hard labour. And
(309) JOSEPH FRAZER (17) , to attempting to carnally know Eliza Fawcett, a girl under the age of 13. also to assaulting her and causing her actual bodily harm. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve months hard labour.
310. ROBERT WAUGH (40) , Unlawfully obtaining from Charles Hatton Spurgeon Ward £3 2s. 4d. with intent to defraud. Other Counts, obtaining other sums from the same person by false pretences with intent to defraud.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
he asked for Mr. Ward—I told him he was out—he called again in about half an hour—I said Mr. Ward was not in yet—he said, "My daughter is employed here as cashier"—he asked me if I was the manager—I said, "Yes"—his daughter is employed at the shop—he produced this cheque dated March 5th for £3 2s. 4d., drawn on Lloyds Bank at Brighton by Henry M. Knight in favour of a Mr. Whiting—it is endorsed Joseph Whiting and Robert Waugh—he endorsed it in my presence—he asked me to cash it—I asked Miss Waugh if the prisoner was her father—she said, "Yes," and I gave him the money—on March 7th he came again, and I cashed this second cheque for him—it is drawn by the same Henry M. Knight on Lloyds Bank for £5 1s. 4d.—they were both country cheques—on March 10th I cashed a third cheque for him for £5 on the London, City and Midland Bank, Charing Cross Branch drawn in the prisoner's favour by M. Johnstone, and on the next day he brought another cheque for £6 7s. 6d., drawn on the same bank—all of the cheques have been dishonoured—two had no accounts and in two of them the accounts were closed—I believed that the cheques were good security for the money.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not say that you were cashing the cheques for Mr. Whiting—I did not have anything to do with you after you received the money—Mr. Ward saw you then—you did not tell me that you were surprised when you heard that the cheques had been returned.
CHARLES HATTON SPURGEON WARD . I am a hosier, of 42, Old Broad Street—about March 6th or 7th the last witness gave me this cheque marked A, it was dishonoured—the other cheques B, C, and D were also handed to me by him, and they were also dishonoured—they were paid in through my bank—I never saw the prisoner in my shop till after the cheques were presented—he came in on the Saturday and said that Johnstone had gone to Antwerp or Amsterdam—I said, "Where is his office?"—he said, "I cannot tell you"—I said, "Surely you have taken them from him in business?"—he said, "I did not take them from him in business, but I took them from a friend of his named Lemont"—I said, "Where is Lemont?"—he said, "I am going to see him now in Fenchurch Street'—he would not or could not give me any information about him—I told him three of the cheques were made payable to himself—he would not give me any explanation, he wriggled out of it—he offered me 100 £1 shares, which I, of course, ignored.
JOHN WALTER MILLIARD . I am a clerk at the London, City and Midland Bank. Charing Cross Branch—these two cheques drawn by Johnstone are out of a book issued to a Mr. J. A. Verney on December 11th, 1901—That account was closed this spring, and Verney is now doing three years penal servitude under the name of Field—I do not know if the cheque-book was written for—we have never had a customer named E. Johnstone, with a signature like that—I am the sole ledger clerk.
balance 01 2s. 7d., which was wiped off for charges—these two cheques of Knight's have been dishonoured.
Cross-examined. Knight attempted to pay money into his account on two occasions after it was closed, and we declined to reopen it—letters were sent down to us by hand, one sometime before March 12th and one about January 27th—we took no notice of them we simply handed them back to the woman who brought them—it was before these cheques were presented for payment—I cannot say what amount of money was in the fetters—it was actual cash.
JULIUS JACOBS . I live at 17, Cheapside—the prisoner and a man named Johnstone took an office there from me on February 11th—Johnstone actually took it—it was on a monthly tenancy at£3 10s. a week—the prisoner told me they were general merchants and dealt in anything—they gave me a cheque for £5 on a bank at Cardiff, for the rent in advance, and that was to include a brass plate and painting the name on the door—I know Johnstone's writing—these cheques are in his writing—next day the prisoner told me that he was afraid the cheque would be returned, as a cheque they had paid in had been dishonoured—I said, "Well, you know this is an old game, I must have the money for that cheque," and on February 15th, I think it was, they handed me a £10 note—I went to the party who had changed the cheque for me and paid him the £5 and took the other £5 and the cheque—I did not see the other cheque which was paid to my porter the next day—I told them they must leave as soon as their month was up—Johnstone left at the end of a fortnight, and I have never seen him since—the prisoner came several times for letters, and afterwards said he wanted his books—I said I should not let him have them till Johnstone came—people came and said 'they wanted money for their accounts—I referred them in each case to the detective office in Old Jewry.
Cross-examined. On September 9th you and a Mr. Thomas came and took an office at £40 a year, and paid me £10 in advance—I was paid a cheque for £10 on a bank at Edmonton—you and Thomas both signed that, and it was duly met—I did not see Thomas in February—you introduced Johnstone to me, and represented him as a man of good position and with plenty of money—on September 17th I gave you £10 18s. for four cheques as I wanted to send them to four different customers, and I had no banking account—the whole of those cheques were returned dishonoured and when you told me of the cheque being returned in the Johnstone matter I said, "That is an old game, that won't suit me"—I do not remember ever borrowing any money from you—you were with Mr. Thomas a few days ago—It is not true that people who take offices with me are questioned as to whether they will pay me money to get from me a good report to Stubbs—I do not know a Mr. Levett—he did not go to you day after day to get money out of you to my knowledge—you left my office because it was getting too warm for you—you went to East India Avenue—you put both addresses on your bills until we asked you to stop it—I trade as Cooper and Co.—Mr. Cooper has fallen out of a 'bus and damaged himself.
ALBERT ELLISTON GIBBS . I am the housekeeper at 17, Cheapside—in February the prisoner came to me and asked me to cash a cheque for him for £3 10s., payable to myself and drawn by Johnstone—it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I got something for cashing it.
Cross-examined. You told me that if I wanted £5 to go to you for it and I mentioned that fact to you—Johnstone asked me to cash the cheque for him, and he gave me 5s. for doing so—it was drawn on the National Provincial Bank of England, Cardiff Branch—Johnstone does not owe me anything now—you never owed me anything—I told you that Johnstone should see me righted about the cheque, and asked you to speak to him for me—Johnstone said he would give me another 5s., and he did so—I got a firm to pass the cheque through their account—Mr. Solomons is not my landlord—you saw him one day in my office, and you asked me if you could have offices, and I did all in my power to get them—you told me you were going to start in business in a large way—I did not tell you that all the tenants would have to leave—Mr. Solomons has a number of offices in the building, and he sublets them—it is a lie to say that I would give a good report of Johnstone to the people who were making inquiries, but was not going to do so for nothing—I thought you were a respectable firm—you asked me to cash the cheque for Johnstone.
FREDERICK BAREHAM (Detective Sergeant.) On March 20th I saw the prisoner in Hackney—I said to him."I am a police officer and have a warrant for your arrest"—I read the warrant to him—he said, "Have you a warrant for Johnstone"—I said, "No"—he said, "Then I am the victim"—I do not know Johnstone.
The prisoner in a written defence said that the cheques were in order, that he took the cheques from Whiting and Johnstone to cash for them in good faith, that he had no fraudulent intention, that Johnstone was not his partner, that he had never done any business with him, and that he was in business with a Mr. Thomas.
GUILTY . One previous conviction on October 23, 1899,was proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. TODD Prosecuted.
THOMAS JAMES KEITH . I am a carman of Cambridge Street, E.—On February 5th, I was in the employment of Mr. Donaldson, who sent me to Mansell Wharf, Commercial Road, to get some tea—when driving down Gower's Street my attention was called to a chest of tea being stolen off my van—I jumped down, and left my van—I ran into Prescott Street, and looked into the van which Avey (see page 341) was driving and saw my chest of tea in it—I ran alongside and got hold of the pony's head—Avey said, "Now you have got your chest of tea, go"—I continued to hold the pony's head, and Avey got down, and a second man came up and struck me—I did not see the prisoner—I carried the chest of tea back, but when I got to where I had left my van it had gone—I saw nothing more of it—there were eleven chests of tea in it, and four half chests, which were all
gone—the horse and the empty van were found the same night, unattended.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was taken to the station to identify the man who struck me—I do not know if you were one of the men who were there—I went up to one of the men in the station and said, "I think this is the man by his dress. "
Re-examined. The only man I saw was Avey.
EDWARD WEBSTER . I am a gate-keeper, employed by the London and North-Western Railway Go.—on February 5th, I was on duty in Mansell Street—my attention was called to the prisoner and two other men—I kept observation on them for about fifteen minutes—I noticed a little van standing for about ten minutes near Prescott Street—I saw Avey and the prisoner go and turn into Prescott Street with it—A few minutes afterwards I saw a van laden with tea turn into Mansell Street, and stop opposite the Swan public-house—the driver got down and went back—then I saw a man named Murray drive the load away—the prisoner went into Prescott Street, and I lost sight of him—I went to the police station, and gave a full description of the men—on March 22nd, I went to the Thames Police Court, and identified the prisoner as the man in the light cart with Murray and Avey, who were both convicted here a month ago—I have no doubt that the prisoner is the third man.
Cross-examined. I could not have you arrested because there were no policemen about.
JOHN GILL (Detective Sergeant.) On March 22nd, about 11 a.m. I saw the prisoner at the Thames Police Station—I told him he would be placed among others for identification, and that he was suspected of being concerned in stealing a horse and van and some chests of tea on February 5th—he made no reply, and I took him into a room where there were nine other men—Webster was called in, and at once identified him—before Webster came in the prisoner took this cap from his pocket, and put it right over his eyes—I told him he could not do that, and I put his own cap on his head, and took the other from him—the next week I told him he was going to stand for identification by another witness—he threw away his coat and overcoat, and refused to put them on—Keith failed to identify him—I afterwards told him the charge, and he said, "What do you want to put me up for, two men have already been put away; you know I am not working your ground now: I am working another job."
Cross-examined. I made a note of what you said and it is correct.
The prisoner in his defence on oath, said that he was not in the neighbourhood at the time of the robbery, and that he was innocent; he denied being a companion of Murray's, and said that he slept at home on February 5th, and stayed at home till the Friday, but left home on the Saturday and that he was not at home token the police went to his house.
Evidence for the Defence.
MRS. O'BRIEN. The police officers came to our house on a Saturday
night—I told you they had been, and you said, "They know where to find me"—you have been home ever since.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Newington on November 14 th, 1900. as Archibald David Ambrose; and six other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
JAMES EDWARD DAWSON . I am a butcher of 36, Essex Road—I have a stable at 36, Rydal Road, Islington—at 6.20 p.m. on Monday, March 10th, there was a light chestnut pony, a gig, and some harness there—about 1 a.m. on March 11th, I got some information, and went to the stable, I missed the pony, harness, gig, cushions and lamps, value about £21—the padlock of the door had been forced—on March 13th I went to Southend with detective Walters—at the police station there I saw my pony—it had been hog-maned, and its tail had been cut—I also identified my harness—three days afterwards I saw my cart there—I do not know the prisoners.
JOHN SUTTON . I live at East Street, Prittlewell, and am barman at the Railway Tavern there—there are some stables connected with the public-house—about 8 p.m. on March 11th, Harris put a pony and trap there—a man named Ratty Jones told me the prisoner's name was Scrapper Harris—I had seen Ratty Jones before—he does not live anywhere particular—I did not go to the stable myself.
ERNEST WALTER COX . I am a stable boy at the Railway Tavern, Prittlewell—between 10 and 12 a.m. on March 12th a pony and trap which was in the stable there, was taken away by a man named Ratty Jones—he is not one of the prisoners—about 6 p.m. the same day, the prisoner Harris brought the pony and harness back without the trap—he rode the pony down East Street—he asked if he could put the pony up for the night, and I said yes—I then went into the bar—he put it into the stable, and a policeman came and took it away the same night about 7 p.m.
Cross-examined by Smith. I never saw you there.
ERNEST LILLY . I am an ostler at the Blue Boar, at Prittlewell—on March 12th between 10 and 12 a.m. I saw Cox there—I did not see Smith—I cannot say for certain if Harris was there, because there were ten or twelve men—they were all talking outside—a pony and cart stood outside, and I saw Cox driving it up and down the road, showing it off—I went into the yard, and when I came out they were all gone.
Cross-examined by Harris. I did not see you with Perkes outside the Blue Boar on the Monday before the pony and trap was stolen.
Cross-examined by Cox. I did not see Smith.
riding on the pony with the harness on—between 10 and 11 a.m. Cox came to my shop and asked me if I would buy a pony—he had one with him—he left a man outside, not one of the prisoners—I declined it—it was a light chestnut pony.
Cross-examined by Smith. I never saw you till we were at Clerkenwell.
WILLIAM WALLACE . I live at Bell House Cottages, Eastwood, near Southend—on March 12th I was working near Rayleigh—I saw Cox in a gig with a man named Chandler—he came and told me he had heard I wanted to buy a little light trap, and said, "I have got one here which I "believe will suit you"—I said, "It all depends on the price, and what sort of thing it is"—I looked at it—he said he wanted £5 for it—I said he would have to take a bit less—he said he could not, because Culham at Southend had offered him £4 10s. for it—I agreed to give him £5 for it—I did not buy the pony—I went home and got the money, and put the trap into a shed—I had a drink with him, and he got on the pony and rode off—that is the last I saw of him—I kept the trap in the shed till the 14th, when a constable came and took it away.
By the COURT. I did not see Harris—I had to give up the trap, and I lost my £5.
Cross-examined by Smith. I have not seen you at all.
GEORGE ERNEST PHILLIBRON (257Essex). I know Cox and Harris, and to the best of my belief I saw Smith on March 12th—I have seen Cox and Harris together frequently in the neighbourhood of Southend—on March 12th, about 5.45 p.m., I saw them, and to the best of my belief Smith also, with a light chestnut pony and harness, but without a trap, near the Blue Boar—when I walked up to them Harris rode away on the pony—I made some inquiries, and then went to the Railway Tavern, Prittlewell, where I saw the same pony and harness—I locked them up there—shortly afterwards I saw Cox and Harris in East Street, Prittlewell, with a man named John Jones, and to the best of my belief Smith—I said to Harris, "I believe you stabled a light chestnut pony at the Railway Tavern this evening—he said, "Yes, and I gave it a good feed, too"—I said, "Whose pony is it?"—he said, "I do not know."—I said, "Does it belong to you?"—he said, "No"—I said to Cox, "Does the pony belong to you?"—he said, "No"—I said, "You were driving it about this morning"—he said, "What is that to do with you, it ain't mine"—I said to Jones, "The pony must belong to you, then?"—he said, "Yes, the pony is mine, I bought and paid for it"—I said, "Where?"—he said, "Up the road"—I said, "Have you a receipt 1"—he said, "No"—I said, "I am not satisfied with your explanation, I shall detain the horse and harness on suspicion of its being stolen"—they said, "All right," and Harris said, "You will soon have to give it back again"—the pony and harness were conveyed to the Southend Police Station, and on the early morning of March 13th I arrested Harris, and charged him with being concerned with three others in stealing a pony and trap and harness from Islington on the 10th inst.—he replied, "All right,"—I had by that time had some information from the London police—on March 14th I went to Eastwood and found the cart purchased by Wallace—I took possession of it—the cart, pony, and harness were shown
To Mr. Dawson, who identified them—on March 29th at Clerkenwell Police Station, a number of men were paraded in the yard, and I picked out Smith and Cox.
Cross-examined by Harris. You did not tell me that you knew nothing about it and had only taken the pony down to the stables for Cox to feed it as he asked.
Cross-examined by Cox. did not arrest Jones when he said the pony was his, because I knew where he lived—you did not say, "I will go and fetch him."
Cross-examined by Smith. In my own mind I am sure I saw you at Southend.
CHARLES WALTERS (Police Sergeant N.) On March 13th I went with Mr. Dawson to Southend, and saw a pony and harness, which he identified—I saw Harris in a cell—I said, "I have come from London, and Mr. Dawson has identified the pony and harness as stolen from his premise at Islington on the 10th"—he said, "I never stole it, Cox and another man asked me to put it up for him"—I said, "But it was put up in your name"—he did not say anything to that—I said, "Where is the gig?"—he said, "Two of them drove off in the direction of Prittlewell, if you ask the old man he will tell you"—I brought him to London the same night—he said, "I do not see why I should be made to suffer for this"—at the station he made no reply to the charge.
JAMES SMITH (Detective Sergeant N.) On March 22nd I was with Hall, and about 10.30 p.m. I saw a cart and horse being driven along Upper Street—Cox and Smith were in it—I followed them—they turned into Parkfield Street, and stopped at a beer house—they both got down and went into a urinal on the opposite side of the road—they came out and stood by the beer shop—Cox went into Chapel Street after speaking to Smith—after two or three minutes he came back with another man, and they all examined the horse—we told them we should have to take them into custody—I said I was not satisfied with the answers they gave, and caught hold of Smith—he struggled with me—Cox jumped into the cart, and picked up a stick or whip and commenced to beat the horse—I called out to Hall to catch hold of the horse's head to stop him from going away—he did so—I was struggling with Smith when I received a blow across my temple, and I saw Cox leaning out of the cart with this stick (Produced) which he struck me with—I am suffering from the injury now—I thought I should lose my prisoner, and I pushed him against the wall, and leaned against it myself—I did not quite lose my senses—I received another blow on the top of my head—I saw Cox was going to hit me again, and I called out for help—Hall rushed at him and threw him into the road—Hall was struck on his shoulder by the stick which was going to hit me—I let go of Smith with my right hand, and was just able to give one little blow on my whistle, and an officer came up—Smith then became very troublesome, he threw away his hat and put a cap on and tried to slip his arm through his sleeve, but I had him so tight by his wrist that he could not get away—he then threatened to knock my b----head off, but the other officers came up then—I had to go on the sick list, and am still off duty.
Cross-examined by Smith. You did more than struggle, you kicked me on my ankle several times.
GEORGE RUSSEL BEARDMORE . I am deputy police surgeon—I attended to Sergeant Smith on March 22nd—he was suffering from a very severe blow on his eye which might have been caused by this stick—he will probably be perfectly well in course of time, but I cannot say how long—ther was considerable pain, the eyeball was congested, and the soft parts round the eye were contused.
Cross-examined by Cox. At the station you complained of a blow on your head—I examined it, it was only a minor blow and did not require dressing.
WILLIAM HALL (Policeman N.) I was with Sergeant Smith on the night of March 22nd—I saw Cox and Smith in a trap in Upper Street—after Smith had spoken to them I saw Cox strike him—I took hold of Cox—he struck me across my shoulder—I knocked him down, took the stick from him, and hit him across his head with it.
The prisoner's statements before the Magistrate. Cox says, "Harris is innocent"—Smith says, "I have never been to Southend except once in 1897."
The Recorder considered that there was no evidence against SMITH.
NOT GUILTY .
Harris, in his defence on oath, said that Cox asked him to take the pony to the stables, which he did; that he had told the constables that he did not know anything about it, except that he had put it into the stable; that he did not know much about Cox; that he did not ask him where he got the pony from, because he knew he sold horses; that he knew Jones, but that he did not give any name at the Railway Tavern, and that he did not know why it was stabled in his own name.
Cox, in his defence, said that Ratty Jones and another man told him they had a pony to get rid of, and he tried to sell it for them, and that that was all he knew about it.
HARRIS NOT GUILTY .—COX GUILTY of receiving.
He then PLEADED GUILTY †to a conviction of felony at this Court on March 25 th, 1901,and SMITH to a conviction of felony at the North London Police Court on March 3 rd, 1900. One other conviction was proved against Cox and four against Smith.
COX— Seven years' penal servitude.
SMITH— Three years' penal servitude on the first indictment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 9 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. BODKIN,for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN prosecuted
MARY FAY . I live at 10, Crescent Place, Fulham—the prisoner and her husband have lodged with me about twelve months—they have two boys, aged 7 years and 2 1/2 years—On February 19th the prisoner went to the lying-in hospital in York Road to be confined, and on March 7th returned with a little girl—I attended her for a week after she came back—I noticed that she was weak and strange in her manner—she used to wander in her talk—she and her husband lived together happily, and she was very fond of her children—on March 20th I attended her a little after 7 a.m.—her husband went away about 8 a.m., leaving her in bed—she had been very quiet on the day before, and she did not seem to be so well on the 20th, she did not eat her breakfast—at 9.20 a.m. she had a very bad shivering fit—I sent the elder boy to school, and then dressed the other boy—I took the baby's gown off—I then left the room—a Mr. Morris called my attention to the baby lying on the pavement outside, about ten minutes after I had attended to it—I went up to the prisoner's room with Mrs. Pitther—the prisoner was sitting there fully dressed—I asked her what she had done—she told me she had thrown the baby out of the window—we telegraphed for her husband, to whom the prisoner said, "God forgive me, I have killed the baby"—she did not give any reason for doing it—she did not seem to know what she was doing or saying—Dr. Vinrace came shortly.
MARIA PITTHER . I live at, Crescent Place, Fulham, which is immediately opposite No. 10—on the morning of March 20th there was a knock at my door—I looked into the road and saw the body of a child lying there—I picked it up and went into No. 10—I saw Mrs. Fay there—we went up to the room on the second floor—the prisoner was standing by the bed when we got in—I asked her to sit down, and said, "Where is the baby"—she said she had thrown it out at the window, because the woman would not come and dress it—I only knew her by sight then, I had never spoken to her before—she seemed in rather a confused condition, and did not speak again—Dr. Vinrace came—the room was tidy and the child clean—I do not know how many children she has.
DENNIS VINRACE . I am a registered medical practitioner of 24, Alexander Square, Kensington—I was called on the morning of March 20th to 10, Crescent Place—I saw the prisoner—she was flushed in the face, and looked agitated and vacant—she said she was anxious to have her mother there as her head was dirty, that she had failed to get her mother to come and that had upset her—she also told me that she desired to have the child washed, that she had not been able to get it properly attended to and that had also upset her—she implied that the child was dirty, although she did not say so—I came to the conclusion that she was suffering from puerperal melancholia, and that she was not responsible for the act she had just committed—she knew perfectly well what she had done, and made no concealment of it—she seemed to think there was no importance to be attached to it—I examined the body of the child—it had died from fracture of the skull—it was dead when I first saw it—it was a 7 1/2 months child at birth, and had lived about a month afterwards, so it was not quite a full-time child at the time of its death—puerperal melancholia is
sometimes likely to occur in respect of a child which is not full time—the prisoner had had four confinements—they all took place in the South Lambeth Hospital—the first was natural, the second by operation, and the third and fourth were premature labours at the seventh or seven and a half months.
JAMES SCOTT . I am the medical officer at His Majesty's prison at Holloway—the prisoner was received there on March 27th—she has been under my observation ever since, having been in the infirmary—I have examined her on several occasions—her mind is rather weak and confused, but I cannot at present call her actually insane—her condition has been consistent with her suffering from puerperal melancholia on March 20th—she is gradually recovering from that—a person suffering from puerperal melancholia would be at the time incapable of understanding the difference between right and wrong—she has spoken to me several times about the occurrence on March 20th, and what she has said has confirmed my opinion that she did not understand what she was doing at that time—I think she will get well ultimately.
The Prisoner. I was out of my mind.
GUILTY of the act, but insane at the time and not responsible for her actions. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. SYMMONS Defended.
MATILDA TUCKER . I am single, and live at 63, Trinity Square. Borough—I am the mother of the deceased—she was twenty months' old—I had been living with the prisoner on and off for five months, I think it was from September—when I was not with him I went into the workhouse in Shepherdess Walk, because he had not the money to pay the rent—I have been to the workhouse twice, once for a month and once for six weeks—the prisoner is a dock labourer—he is an Englishman—the last time I came out was on March 1st—I was pregnant then by him—he took me and the child out of the workhouse two or three times—on March 1st I took the back ground floor room at 15, Little Pearl Street, Spitalfields—the rent was a shilling a night, except Sunday nights, which were free—on Sunday, March 9th, I went out in the morning—the baby was sitting on a chair—she had a blow on her forehead—the prisoner was in the room—I said to him, "Bill, what a blow she has got on her forehead"—he said, "Yes; I stood her against the cupboard door and the cupboard door fell through"—there is no beading to stop the door, and it goes in and out—he said he bathed it with cold water, and I took no more notice for about half an hour—she was sitting on the floor playing, and the prisoner turned round to me and said, "Has not she got beautiful eyes, I could kill her, for I do love her"—I did not say anything to that, I only took it as a joke, and laughed and he laughed too—on March 15th he came home about 11 a.m.—there was 6s. or 7s. owing then for rent—the prisoner bad done a bit of work on the Friday, but he had not done anything on the Saturday—
I believe he brought 1s. 9d. home with him—he said to me, "Here, I do not know how we are going on about the rent"—I said, "I don't know"—he said, "It don't matter, go and get a bit of tea and sugar"—I went to get it and took the baby with me—when I came back he said, "You had better go and get a bit of jam and some bread"—I went out a second time and bought some, again taking the baby with me—we had our tea about 4.30 or 5 p.m.—between 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. the prisoner sat on a chair, and he laid down for five minutes—after tea he said, "Are you coming out for a little while?"—I said, "Yes"—I dressed the baby—he said, "I will go and see if I can meet any of my mates and see if I can get enough to pay any of my rent"—I had the baby dressed then—he dressed himself and I dressed myself—the baby was going to sleep on my lap, and he said, "Don't take her now, she has gone to sleep; lay her on the bed, she is too heavy for you to carry"—I laid the baby down, and we went out together about 5.30—the baby then had the bruise on her forehead, a mark across her back where she fell into the fire in Christmas week, and a few marks on her bottom—when she was vaccinated she came out in little scars, which left places on her bottom—when I went out with the prisoner we went as far as New North Road, Bow—he looked to see if he could see any of his pals—we got to Pitfield Street—he was looking at a public-house and said, "Will you have a glass of ale?"—I had a glass with him—I went out first, he followed me, and said, "Will you come and pay my two nights'kip?"—he meant his lodging—I said, "No"—he did not mean the rent for the room where we were living, he meant his lodging for two nights at a lodging-house—he said, "Very well, then, you go your way and I will go mine"—he went away and I went my way—he was quite sober, he had only had a glass of ale with me—on the Friday fortnight previous he had had a glass, and he seemed quite silly, so he never had no more—he said to me then, "I feel quite boozed"—on March 15th, he seemed funnified, but he spoke all right—I went into Hoxton when he left me—I met a friend, and told him how I was placed—he gave me 2s. for the rent—I had a glass of ale with him—he see me into the tram, and I went straight home—I got back about 7.30 or 8—I went into our room—there was a candle alight on the mantelpiece—the child was on the bed, partly dressed, and groaning, her boots and socks, pinafore, red jacket, coat, cape, and bonnet had all been taken off—I saw bruises on her face—she did not seem to know me—I saw a little bit of blood in her mouth—I did not notice any scratches—I went to Mrs. Hughes in the next room—I did not notice the fire-place before I went to Mrs. Hughes—I showed her the baby—I went for the police—when I returned, I went into my own room—I saw a pail inside the fender—the pail always stood behind the door—there was some blood and water in the pail—in front of the fire-place some water had been wiped up, and there was a spot of blood as if somebody had cut their finger—the sheet on the bed had been messed, and had been wiped up—I did not notice anything by the side of the bed—Inspector Hewison and Dr. Olliver came, and in consequence of what they said I went with the child to the Mildmay Hospital—I did not examined its body—I went to the station after the
hospital—I went back to the hospital with a constable in the middle of the night—the child died early on the morning of March 17th—I saw it afterwards—we used to poke the fire with this piece of iron—I left it in the fender when I went out on the Saturday afternoon—my attention was not called to it when I came back.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had behaved very well to me up to this—when things were good, he gave me every farthing he got, and came out shopping with me—he got 5s. a day at the dock, but sometimes he would not do any work—before I knew him he drank, but he stopped it while I was with him—he might have a glass now and then—some time ago we had a glass of ale each, and when we got indoors, he said, "Oh,Til, that glass of ale has made me feel quite sillified"—it seemed to me that very little ale would upset him—when he said about the baby"I love her so I could kill her"I thought he meant it in the same way that people say I could eat you,"I thought he was having a game with me—I was not afraid of leaving the baby with him after he said that—we were short of food that day—he had only had a bit of bread and cheese since breakfast—we had no meat for the mid-day meal, and no money to get it with—we did not have tea as early as 2.30—as far as I can judge we had it at 5 o'clock—he only spoke to me about the rent when we went out—he said "I will see the landlord myself, and speak about the rent, and perhaps he will let us stop till Monday"—he said he thought the landlord would let me stop with the child if he stopped away—that is why he wanted to pay his kip money—he also suggested that I and the child should go into the workhouse—I said I would rather stop out, or go into some shelter than keep going backwards and forwards into the workhouse, and that I would rather walk about all night—he said, "Go in there till I get a good start, and get 6s. to pay the rent down"—I only went into one public house while we were out together—he went into one without me—I am not sure whether he had anything to drink in that house—he went in at one door and out at the other—that house was a good distance from where we lived—I do not know the name—we had one drink in a public house in Pitfield Street—I do not know if he had any rum in another public house—I wanted him to come home with me—I thought if I could get a few shillings I would pay the rent in the morning—the prisoner knew the person from whom I got the money—he seemed very annoyed and upset about our having to part, and not being able to pay the rent—he had 1s. to pay his two nights' lodgings—he only wanted me to go with him while he paid the money—there was nothing in his manner when he left me to make me anxious about the child—I had not left a fire in our room when I went out—there is a padlock to the door, but no key—I thought the baby was safe, I did not ask anybody to look after her—the prisoner told me one of his brothers had hanged himself in a room—I do not know it he did it through being out of work, or through having no grub—the floor of my room was swamped with water in front of the fire-place when I got back—it appeared to have been wiped up.
the prisoner lived in the back room with Mrs. Tucker, and the deceased child—on Saturday afternoon, May 15th, I remember being in my room—I went into the back yard—I saw the prisoner there—he had the baby in his hands, holding it underneath the tap, the water was running—I could not see on what part of the baby the water was running—it was partly dressed—it had not got its frock on—the prisoner saw me whilst he was holding the baby—when he saw me he turned round, and went indoors—he was holding the baby by its arms, and its body was hanging down—I did not hear the child make any sound.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was holding the child with his hands under its arm-pits—I do not know if it was wet.
ELLEN HUGHES . I am the wife of William Hughes, and occupy the front room at 15, Little Pearl Street—on Saturday, March 15th, about 8.15 p.m. I was in my room, and Matilda Tucker came in carrying the baby—its forehead was bruised and slit, its nose was flattened, its mouth was slit and frothing—I had been at home all the evening—I had not heard any noise in the back room, which is directly opposite mine—the police were communicated with—a doctor came, and the child was taken to the hospital—I saw the prisoner in the passage—he asked me where his old woman was gone—that was five minutes after she had gone away with the child—I said, "You will get old woman"—he asked me how the baby was—I said, "Gone to the hospital with a policeman, and your old woman, and you will have to stop until a policeman comes"—he had a struggle with me—he got away—I held him again, and he threw me down—in the course of the struggle we got into the road—he threw me into the road, and ran away—I got up and followed him, and hallowed out murder and police—a policeman caught him in Commercial Street—I followed to the station.
Cross-examined. I do not know the last time the prisoner went out before he came in, and I saw him—I do not know that I had seen him from the Friday morning till I saw him in the passage—he was then very excited, flushed, and agitated.
Re-examined. He made no effort to go away before I mentioned the police.
WILLIAM HEATH (310H.) At 9.20 p.m. on Saturday, March 15th, I was on duty in Commercial Street—I heard cries of "Stop the murderer"—I saw the prisoner running out of Little Pearl Street into Commercial Street—I gave chase for about 100 yards, and caught the prisoner—he said, "All right governor, it is no good my going against you"—I told him I should take him to the station for attempting to murder his little girl in Little Pearl Street—he made no reply, and I took him to the station—he did not say anything on the way.
Cross-examined. He was not drunk by a long way—he had been running very fast, and his breath smelt—there was no evidence that he had had more than he ought to have had—I said at the inquest, "I think he had had a glass or two"—that is right.
JOSEPH HEWISON (Police Inspector H.) About 8.30 p.m. on Saturday, March 15th, I went to 15, Little Pearl Street—I found the deceased being nursed by Mrs. Hughes—I saw a large bruise on its forehead—its mouth
was swollen—it seemed to be dying—I sent for Dr. Olliver—I examined the child's clothing, a portion of it was on the table in the back room—it was quite dry with the exception of the pinafore, which was on the bed—it was wet down the front, apparently from vomit—one of the sheets of the bed had a stain upon it of a motion, which had been endeavoured to be wiped away—the top sheet had slight blood stains on it—immediately in front of the bed it was quite wet, and had apparently only just been washed.
Cross-examined. I saw no other blood stains besides the one on the sheet.
FREDERICK WHENSLEY (Police Sergeant.) On March 15th, about 10 p.m. I was at the Commerical Street Police Station—the prisoner was brought in—I asked him his name—at first he said Arthur Thompson, then he said William George Burley, his age 24, and his address 15, Little Pearl Street, Spitalfields, and described himself as a labourer—he said, "I do not care a----, you can hang me now if you like, but if I get the chance I am not going to get the rope round my neck and dance on nothing"—I then left the station for about an hour—I returned to the station—the prisoner asked me, "Is the kid. alive?"—I replied yes—he then said, "I will tell you the truth"—I said, "If you make any statement to me you must understand that it is voluntarily, and I shall produce it in Court"—he said, "All right"—I took down this statement from him, and he signed it. (Read): "About 6 p.m. on the 15th inst.I went home by myself, and found Matilda Tucker's child lying on the bed. It had messed itself.I picked up a piece of iron from the fire-place and beat her on the arse with it I make this statement voluntarily, after being told it may be used in evidence against me"—shortly afterwards Inspector Divall came into the station with four pieces of iron—they were shown to the prisoner—he said, pointing to one of them, "This is the piece I struck the child with."
Cross-examined. He made the statement about an hour after he first spoke—he seemed calm—he did not speak in an excited way.
THOMAS DIVALL (Police Inspector H.) I first saw the prisoner at the Commercial Street Station just before 11 p.m. on March 15th—I went to the back room on the ground floor at 15, Little Pearl Street—in the grate there I found four pieces of iron—this is one of them (Produced)—I took them back to the station—I saw the prisoner there—I took the pieces into the waiting room where he was—I laid them on the table—he pointed to that piece and said, "That is the piece I struck the child with"—the child died in the hospital on the early morning of March 17th—at 9.15 a.m. the the same day I charged the prisoner with the murder of the child—he said, "The child is dead, Sir?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "What time did it die?"—I said, "Between 12 and 1 o'clock this morning"—the charge was read over to him—he made no reply to it.
ALFRED GOULD (Detective Sergeant H.) About 11 p.m. on March 15th I went with Divall to Commercial Street Station—I saw the prisoner—he said, "How is the kid?"—I said, "I do not know"—he said, "When I came home I found it had messed the bed, and I hit it on the head with a piece of iron"—I went to the prisoner's room and took possession of two
sheets off the bed, a pinafore, a sock, a shoe, a little woollen jacket, a bonnet, and frock, which was the child's clothing.
Cross-examined. I assisted in the case—there may have been enough to manage it without me—the prisoner said, in Divall's presence, that he had hit the child on the head.
Re-examined. I made a note of what he said.
T. DIVALL (Re-examined) I made a note of the prisoner's statement—he said to Sergeant Gould, "When I came home it had messed the bed, and 1 hit it on the head with a piece of iron.
Cross-examined. The note was not read over to the prisoner—he could have corrected it at the police court—there is no mistake made in the note with regard to the word "head. "
FRANKLIN HEWITT OLLIVER . I am divisional surgeon of police, and practice in Kingsland Road—on March 15th, about 8.55 p.m., I was called to 15, Little Pearl Street—I found the deceased lying on a bed in the ground floor room—she was not conscious, and was suffering from contusion to her head and body generally, and from an injury to the genitals—the injury to the perineum I afterwards made a fuller investigation of—on Monday, March 17th, it was reported to me that she had died.—I made a post mortem examination, with another medical man, at 6.30 that evening—the greater part of the forehead was occupied by a large bruise—it was most marked on the right side, and involved in addition the right upper eye-lid—there were bruises on both cheeks, nose, upper and lower lips, and the tip of the chin was slightly grazed—on the front of the right shoulder there was a superficial bruise as large as a threepenny piece—on the side of the left chest there was a linear bruise 2 1/2 inches long—just to the left of the navel there was a bruise as large as a pigeon's egg—on the abdomen there was a bruise as large as a crown piece, and over the crest of the head a bruise as large as a shilling—on the right thigh there was a bruise on the inner side, as large as a half-crown and an inch above the knee a linear bruise 1 1/2 inches long—there were two superficial scratches over the knee, and two small-bruises—in front of the right shin there was a linear bruise three inches long—on the left thigh there were three bruises just above the knee—on the front of the left shin, 1 1/2 inches below the knee, there was a scratch 1 1/2 inches long, and there was a bruise over the occiput—over the left loin there was an old scar of a burn, which had also been bruised—over the left buttock there was a scratch 1 inch long—the anus was dilated, and its margin bruised, and radiating from its centre there were four superficial lacerations—the perineum was severely and deeply lacerated—this piece of iron would have caused those wounds—the laceration to the perineum started just at the back of the vagina, it just entered the orifice, and extended to the back of the anus—there must have been some force used to inflict that injury—to cause the injuries to the perineum I think there was a prod or a thrust with the instrument—I examined the brain and the scalp—the bruising involved the whole of the right side of the head as far back as the occiput—the brain and organs were normal—the child seemed to have been healthy—the cause of death was collapse following the injury to the perineum and the bruising—the child could never have
been fully conscious after receiving the injuries—the bruises were all recent, with the exception of the scar of the burn—I have examined this piece of iron—there is just a trace of blood on this end of it—the use of this end, where the blood stains were, would have caused the injuries I saw.
Gross-examined. The injury to the head was of a serious nature, and would be dangerous by itself—I think the injury to the point of the right shoulder could have been caused by the child falling, and possibly the injury on the right side of the head—if there was a thrust with the weapon it need not have been intentional if a man was beating the child with this piece of iron.
Re-examined. I think the one blow to the perineum caused death.
By MR. SYMMONS. I think the prisoner could easily have put an end to the child's life with one blow if he had chosen, but it depends where he hit it.
SIDNEY PEILL . I am resident medical officer at the Mildmay Hospital—I received the deceased there—she was in a moribund condition—she survived until 12.30 on Monday morning, when she died—I assisted Dr. Olliver at the post mortem—I entirely agree with the conclusions he arrived at.
Cross-examined. It is impossible to tell how old blood on a particular weapon is—you could tell if it had been there for months, but not if it had been there for weeks or days.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I should like to ask you to have that child examined by a doctor who has no connection with the police or me. They seem in doubt as to whether the child was beaten with this iron or probed with it, and they take the side of the prosecution. I strongly deny striking it on the head or on any other part of its body barring its arse."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that when he got home he was in a muddled condition; that the child messed herself; that he cleaned her, and then thought he ought to teach her to be clean; that he did not know what made him do it, but he took up a piece of iron and beat her across the backside with it; that he stood her up, but she fell down; that he did not mean to hurt her seriously; that he was very fond of her; that he did not know that he had injured her; that he did not thrust with the iron at all; that he did not know the iron had gone into her; that when she fell down he stood her up; that he noticed some blood between her legs when he picked her up; that he became alarmed, and examined her, and found that she was hurt between her legs; that he took off her clothes to bathe her; that as he had upset the pail—he took her into the yard to cool her body under the tap; that he did not take her to a doctor's because he was afraid to; that he made her as comfortable as he could, and went to look for her mother; that he had not hit her on her head; and that he had never said that he had struck her on her head.
Evidence for the defence.
CHARLOTTE BURLEY . I am the wife of George Burley, and mother of the prisoner—he has been in the Navy, and is 25 years old—I do not know if anything happened to him while he was in the Navy—when he came
back he lived with me—he took to drink and when he was drunk I and his sister could not do anything with him, he appeared to be mad—there is madness in my family—my mother's sister died in a madhouse in Australia, and my mother went out of her mind—I had a son named Henry, he hanged himself when he was between 15 and 16.
Cross-examined. Henry was out of work at the time—the Coroner's Jury brought in a verdict of insanity—the prisoner came home about three years ago—he stayed with me for about two months—I have seen him two or three times a week since—he used to knock me about when he was drunk—when he is not drunk he is quiet and reasonable.
GUILTY of manslaughter. Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 9 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted
FREDERICK WATTS (731K.) On April 1st, about 2 a.m., I was on duty in uniform in Salmon Lane, Limehouse, and saw Farrell and the prisoner and others shouting and using bad language—I told them to desist—they refused and I took Farrell in custody—he struck me on my stomach, and I could not get my breath—Farrell got hold of my thumb and pushed it back—Hunt came to my assistance, and the prisoner came across the road and struck at me, but missed me—I saw him twice strike with something like a knife or a dagger—I drew my truncheon and struck at him, but he ran away—I saw blood on Hunt's arm and on the prisoner's shirt—I took Farrell to the station, and he has been tried—I picked the prisoner out next day from a number of coloured men at the station.
JOHN HUNT (301K.) On April 1st I was in Salmon Lane, and Watts called my attention to a man in custody—I assisted him, and the prisoner came up and tried to get him away, which he did, and struck me on my neck and again on my arm—I did not feel the effect of it at the time, but afterwards found that I was stabbed on my arm—I picked the prisoner out next day at the station.
Cross-examined. I did not let go of your brother-in-law when you asked me—no one struck you on your head.
GEORGE SCRIMSHAW (Detective K.) On April 2nd I saw the prisoner at Abbey Wood, Woolwich Arsenal—I told him I should arrest him for stabbing a man at Limehouse—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was never in Limehouse in my life"—he was placed with eight other black men and identified—he said, "I am done, I admit it"—I went to his lodgings and found this knife—I showed it to him, and he said, "That is what I did it with."
Prisoner's Defence. I was with my brother-in-law and my wife. A man came up and knocked him down and struck me two blows on my head with a staff. I had a knife in my hand cutting some tobacco, but I never struck him more than one blow. I am very sorry. I had had a bit of drink, and that is the way I did it.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Six months' hard labour.
MR. KAPODIA Prosecuted; MR. MUIR appeared for Abraham,MR. LEYCESTER for David, and MESSRS. LAWLESS and SYMMONS for Maxwell.
It appearing that the conspiracy, if any, was between Abraham Harris and his son Percy and a man named Silverman, who had both absconded, and as the indictment did not charge a conspiracy with them,THE RECORDER stopped the Case and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT,Wednesday, April 9th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted and MR. GILL, K.C.,and MR. RANDOLPH Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. GILL and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON defended Bonn.
MYER EDGAR . I am a bookmaker, of 3, Pauline Terrace, Old Montague Street, Whitechapel—I have known Bonn or McCarthy by both names, and Sharper and Brooks from their being with Bonn—I have also seen Edwards—Bonn has demanded money from me on fifteen or sixteen occasions because I was in the business of bookmaking, or else I should have got struck—he was the leader of a gang of about twelve murderers in the East End—this has been going on about two years—I gave the prisoners' money—I refused to pay them about the end of February—about a month before that I was introduced to Tamplin in the "King's Arms "public-house—on March 5th I was in the "Black Bull "public-house, Old Montague Street, with my brother David Edgar and a man named Ross about 5.45 p.m. and other persons playing at billiards—Sharper opened the door first and was followed immediately by Bonn and the other prisoners—Sharper said "What did you say?"—I said, "I never said anything"—he struck
me, and Bonn said, "Do him in," and lifted a billiard cue to Sharper, who struck me on my head with the butt end—my head was cut open—immediately Brooks took a knife out, and said, "Let me put it in him"—one of them stopped him and took him away—my brother said, "Do not hit him, he has had enough"—then Bonn pushed them all aside, took something out of his pocket, and struck me on my head, and said, "I will finish him"—a water-jug was on the table at his side—he smashed it on the top of my skull, and knocked me senseless on the floor—I lay there about an hour and a half—these are the fragments of the jug—when I came to, I immediately ran off to the police station and made a complaint, and was told by the Inspector to go to the hospital to have my wounds dressed—I have been an out-patient for three weeks, attending on Mondays and Thursdays—my head was bandaged.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have known Bonn about six years—I have rented this billiard-room about twelve months—I carry on my betting business in the street—I have no betting house nor room—I have no prize fights in the billiard-room—Bill Chester and Kid Macoy did not come there—I was senseless about half-an-hour—my brother and Ross assisted me—they all ran out of the room—none of my friends were in the room when I came to—they are afraid to come and give evidence—I gave their addresses to the police—I gave the Detective Sergeant the names and address of Dave Cohen, 62, Whitechapel Road, and Max Rosenberg, of Cambridge Road—there were six of them, five besides myself—the other was Sam Blitz—my friends are afraid of the prisoners because they carry fire-arms—I was not talking to Sharper when Bonn came in—I did not take up a jug to strike Sharper—it was not broken by falling in the struggle—my brother did not say to Bonn, "Can't you interfere and stop this fight?"—he stood by till I was knocked down properly—I have not bee threatening Bonn—I have known Tamplin about a month—he has not come to my billiard-room.
Cross-examined by Sharper. On February 18th I went to a gambling house at St. Thomas's Street. Whitechapel—there was a fire, but I had left, and did not have anything to do with burning two children, or setting the house on fire—I do not go out with a prostitute—there was no trouble about a woman—there was no row about gambling in the billiard-room—you did not ask me why you had been struck—I have known Bonn six years, not the other prisoners—sometimes I gave money to the other prisoners, but they were with Bonn.
Cross-examined by Brooks. I saw you with the knife when you were pushed away.
Cross-examined by Edwards. I saw you a good time back when you asked me for a shilling outside Aldgate Station in July or August last year—I told the Magistrate I did not know you—I did not see you with the billiard cue—one of you made a strike at me with a cue, I did not know which—you were guarding the door—your head was bandaged—I did not see a bandage round your eyes.
Re-examined. I saw a revolver in Brooks's pocket two months before this occurred—I had nothing to do with what Tamplin did.
DAVID EDGAR . I live at 3, Pauline Terrace, Old Montague Street—I am a billiard marker at the Black Bull, Old Montague Street—On March 5th, between 5 and 6 p.m., there were a few customers in the billiard-room, and my brother was sitting at a table with his friend—Sharper came in followed by the other prisoners—as soon as he shut the door Bonn said, "There he is, now do it on him"—Sharper hit my brother on the jaw, then he took a cue off the billiard-table and struck him on his eye with the butt end, and then hit him across his head with the cue—Brooks had. a dagger in his hand—he said, "Come out of the way and I will kill him"—Brooks's brother and I rushed over and pushed him away—then Bonn took an instrument out of his pocket, which I thought was a hammer or a chopper, and said, "Come out of the way, I'll finish him"—then he hit him on the head three times with the chopper—when my brother was unconscious Bonn took the jug off the table and smashed it to pieces on his head—the chopper caused him to become unconscious—these are pieces of the broken jug—Sharper hit him on the jaw with his fist as soon as they came in—the customers rushed out and the prisoners took the cues out of the rack and hit the customers on the back—Edwards hit them across the head—the prisoners remained ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after this happened.
Cross-examined by Mr. Hutton. About half a dozen customers ran away, my brother and Ross remained—Sharper when he came in did not say anything to my brother nor did my brother reply—if he had I should have heard it—Sharper never struck my brother before Bonn spoke—the chopper caused him to be insensible—he went down with the chopper—it must have been the chopper, I saw the handle out of his pocket—my brother remained insensible about half an hour—I remained with him—I got him some brandy.
Cross-examined by Sharper. I have attended the billiard-room since I returned from Africa, about two weeks before the assault—I look after the billiard-room for my brother—my brother made a book in the street—I was not at the gambling house at all.
Cross-examined by Brooks. I saw you with a dagger or a knife, and with a billiard-cue—I did say"Before you kill my brother or do him any harm you have got to do it to me"—you all set about my brother—there was no fight at all—I never said "Jack, take him out, stop him."
Cross-examined by Edwards. Your face was bandaged up—I saw you in Aldgate Street last summer when you asked my brother for a shilling—I told him not to give it you, and you said, "Who are you?"—I said, "That is a brother of mine, and you are not going to have it—I came back from Durban on Boxing Day after twenty-eight days—I came from Africa because I could not get work—I went with a lad named Ellis who went to the front—Inspector Divall came for me, and I did not identify you till I saw you at Worship Street in the dock.
ALFRED ROSS . I am a gold and silver chaser, of 33, Parfitt Street, Commercial Road—I was in the Black Bull on March 5th—Myer Edgar, his brother, and two or three others were there—about 5.45 p.m. Sharper came in, and in about two or three minutes afterwards the other prisoners—
Sharper said to Myer Edgar, "What did you send Tamplin round to me for?"—the prosecutor said, "I know nothing about it"—afterwards Bonn said, "Go on, Sharper, do him in"—Sharper then struck Myer Edgar over his eye with his fist—then they all got cues, and smashed him on the head—Bonn said, "I'll finish him," and I heard a crash of earthenware, and when I was outside I heard the prosecutor say, "Oh, mother!"
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Myer fell in a corner—I went to the hospital and saw Myer there afterwards.
Cross-examined by Sharper. I did not hear anything about a mob—it was not a quarrel.
Cross-examined by Brooks. I did not see whether you had a knife or what it was in your hand.
Cross-examined by Edwards. You took a billiard-cue from the rack, and struck one of the customers.
MAJOR JONES (243H.) I was on duty in the Whitechapel Road on March; 5th, about 7 p.m., when I was sent for to the King's Arms—I saw the prisoners there and two other men—I arrested Bonn for riotous conduct—he said, "Let go of me, I will have your f----g life, you bastard"—he became very violent, and hit me on my jaw and caused my mouth to bleed—Brooks caught hold of me by my collar, and said, "Come on Jack, have a f----g go for it"—I took Bonn, and another officer took Brooks to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I struck him with my truncheon on his arm—he struggled more, and I struck him on his head—he did not say that he was innocent, or complain that I hurt his arm.
FREDERICK WENSLEY (Detective H.) I was at Leman Street police station when Sharper came—he followed Brooks and Bonn shortly before 8 p.m.—he said, "I am come here to see that they get fair play—I made inquiries, and inconsequence afterwards charged him with wounding with intent to murder Myer Edgar and Thomas Tamplin—he said, "It served them right, I wish we had given them more"—on March 8th I was with Sergeant Gill in Whitechapel Road, and saw Edwards in a cab—I shouted to him to stop, but he would not—I pursued the cab some distance down the road and stopped the horse—Gill told him to get out of the cab—he got out—Gill said to him, "You know me, we are going to take you into custody for being concerned with three others in wounding with intent to murder Myer Edgar and Thomas Tamplin last Wednesday"—Edwards said, "Yes, that is right; look what they have done to me to-night, I mean to put some of them through it"—I took him to the station—before he was charged he said, "That stick I gave to Gill is the one they set about me to-night with."
Cross-examined by Edwards. You were with Mike McCarthy—you did not say, "Look what they have done to this man through taking me to the hospital—Mike McCarthy is Bonn's brother—you had this iron stick in your pocket which Gill took from it—I heard that it belongs to Tamplin—you went quietly to the station—I fetched the cabman into the station because he wanted his fare—you told me to pay him—you were not put up for identification because that was not in question—I have nothing to do with the cells—I did not throw you in—I did not turn your witness from the court.
JOHN GILL (Police Sergeant H.) I arrested Edwards—he was charged at the station with being concerned with others in wounding with intent to murder Myer Edgar and Thomas Tamplin on the evening of March 5th—he said, "I was there, but I did not put a hand on either of them."
ANDREW NELSON SIMMONS ,M.R.C.S. and L.R.C.P. I am clinical assistant in the surgical outpatients' department of the London Hospital—I examined Myer Edgar there on March 6th—he had three cuts on his head about an inch long—that is all he complained of, and all I took any notice of—I saw him again on the 10th and to-day—the wounds have healed—they were likely to have been caused by these broken pieces of a jug.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. He had lost a considerable amount of blood from clean cut wounds—a billiard-cue would leave marks—it would take a very heavy blow to break an ordinary man's skull—I should expect to see a bump—it might easily cut the skin—a chopper would not account for the marks unless the sharp point was used.
Cross-examined by Sharper. It is conceivable that if he fell with the jug in his hand it might have caused the cuts if the jug smashed first, but he would have to tumble head foremost to do it.
Cross-examined by Edwards. I do not remember seeing you at the hospital—I have not had your subpoena—I have had many serious cases—if you had given me the card number I could refer to my notes.
The prisoners, in their defences, stated that there was a quarrel and a general fight, and that the witnesses were committing perjury.
They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Bonn, at the Great Midlothian Sessions, on January 25th, 1897,in the name of George Marriott; Sharper, on April 2nd, 1901,at Clerkenwell; Brooks, at Clerkenwell, on June 20th, 1899;and Edwards, at Clerkenwell, on March 20th, 1900. Several other convictions were proved against each prisoner; also that they belonged to a dangerous gang. BONN,SHARPER,and BROOKS— Five years' penal servitude each ; EDWARDS— Four years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 10th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
For other cases tried this day see Essex and Surrey cases.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 10th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
324. MICHAEL WHITTY (50), PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining the execution of a certain security by false pretences. He received an excellent character. Judgment respited. There were six other indictments against him for forgery, to which he pleaded not guilty.
MR. C. MATHEWS Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Three years' penal servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 10th, 1902
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
326. ELLA SINCLAIR ROWLAND (32), ANNA SINCLAIR (20), ALLAN LAIDLAW (47), CHARLES MAURICE COLEMAN (31), and EDWARD HENRY COLEMAN, Unlawfully conspiring with Roland De Villiers and others to publish obscene pamphlets, books, and libels.
MR. MUIR, MR. BODKIN, AND MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted.
MR. HUTTON and MR. FULTON appeared for Rowland and Sinclair; MR. SIMMONS and MR. MORLE for Laidlaw; MR. BLACK for C. M. Colman; and MR. BIRON for E. H. Colman.
ROWLAND,LAIDLAW,and C M. COLEMAN withdrew their pleas, and stated in the hearing of the jury that they were guilty. GUILTY .
E.H. COLEMAN then PLEADED GUILTY to publishing two obscene libellous pamphlets.
ANNA SINCLAIR— GUILTY.The jury recommended her to mercy, considering that she was under the influence of the other prisoners.
The COLEMANS received good characters
ROWLAND, Nine months hard labour.
LAIDLAW and MAURICE COLEMAN, Six months' hard labour each.
E. H. COLEMAN and ANNA SINCLAIR to enter into recognizances.
OLD COURT—Friday, April 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
327. GEORGE LAWRENCE (23), and GEORGE ELSTON (23) , Feloniously wounding William Hart with intent to murder him;Second Count, with intent to disable him;Third Count, with intent to resist the lawful apprehension of William Lawrence.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted; MR. COHEN defended Lawrence.
GEORGE PRIDE (Detective Sergeant G.). About 9.40 a.m. on March 10th I was with Sergeant Hodson in Old Street—we were in plain clothes—I saw the prisoners looking into a shop window—when we got within about fifty yards of them I saw Lawrence nudge Elston with his right arm—they went into Tabernacle Square—I went to the corner of Pitfield Street and we made up our minds to go and see what they had got—they went into Rivington Street—when we got to the corner we saw them about 200 yards away both running as hard as they could—seeing it was no use to run after them we ran down Great Eastern Street into High Street, Shoreditch—we
there saw them both walking down on the other side of the road towards us—we crossed over behind some vans—as they passed I seized Elston, who was nearest to me—he broke away—I caught him again, and assisted by Constable Tilley I took him to the station—on searching him I found two watches, two watch-chains, one neck-chain, one match-box, two brooches, one locket, three rings, one scarf-pin, and other articles—whilst I was struggling with him on the ground I heard a revolver shot, and someone said, "He is shooting"—on being charged Elston said, "Are we both charged with that jewellery found in my pocket?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "That has nothing to do with him."
Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. By"him "he meant Lawrence—if I had seen Lawrence without Elston I should not have interfered with him, but I wanted him for failing to make his monthly report.
Re-examined. He is a convict on licence, but I had not seen him for three years.
Cross-examined by Els on. When I first caught you I did not fall down—we both fell afterwards—after I had secured you the other policeman ran after the other prisoner—you did not ask me what I wanted you for?—I searched you before Lawrence came in.
RANDAL HODSON (Police Sergeant G.) On this day I was with Pride—I went in pursuit of Lawrence—he ran down Shoreditch High Street, in the direction of the City—I attempted to arrest him—he got away—I followed him—he turned back, and ran in the direction of French Alley—he then had this revolver in his hand—at the top of French Alley he fired in the direction of Constable McDonnel, who I saw standing there—he then ran through French Alley into Norfolk Street—he was then being followed by McDonnel, Sergeant Hart, and Tilley—he fired twice more at those officers—Hart arrested him—he was taken to Hoxton Police Station, where I searched him—I found seven ball cartridges—they did not fit the revolver—I also found this life-preserver, a table knife, a pocket-knife, a box of matches, 3 1/2 d. in money, and a pocket handkerchief—the revolver was given to me by Hart—it was loaded—it had three spent cartridges and two loaded ones—three cartridges found on Elston fit the revolver—on March 13th I went to 158. Stroud Green Road, belonging to Mr. Carpenter—I examined the window there—I found marks on the catch such as would be caused by its being forced back by a knife of this description—I forced it back quite easily—I did not find any marks on the knife.
Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. It is quite an ordinary table knife—I should not have arrested Lawrence if he had not been in Elston's company—it was their actions which aroused our suspicions.
WILLIAM TILLEY (25H.R.) I assisted Pride in arresting Elston—I then followed in pursuit of Lawrence, leaving Pride on the ground with Elston—I remember Lawrence passing McDonnel—I see the revolver in his right hand, and the shot fired—he was two or three yards away—at the bottom of French Alley he turned half round, and fired another shot at us—I got something in my eye—I do not know what it was, I should think it was dirt—I hesitated for half a tick, and then went on again—
Hart closed with the prisoner, and I knocked the revolver out of his hand with my truncheon—I handed it to Hart at the the station.
Cross-examined by Mr. Cohen.I did not run very fast or very far—I was not at all excited—when Lawrence passed me, the revolver was not pointed at me—I said before the Magistrate, "If the shot had hit McDonnel I think it would have got him in the leg"—I think that now—I blew my whistle before he fired that shot—at the bottom of the Court he turned round and pointed the revolver higher up—he ran about seventy yards between the two shots—Hart, McDonnel, and myself were running after him then.
PATRICK McDONNEL (161G.) I saw Lawrence running away, and being followed by the other constables—when he got past me he deliberately fired at me with the revolver in his right hand—it was pointed low down—I joined in the pursuit—a second shot was fired—the revolver was pointed at Sergeant Hart's face—after he had been charged I examined my coat—in the skirts I found these three holes which could have been caused by a bullet—they were not there before.
Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. I said before the Magistrate, "He fired a shot, aimed low"—I ducked my head when the shot was aimed at me.
WILLIAM HART (Police Sergeant 24G.) I saw Lawrence fire the shot at McDonnel—I chased him down French Alley into Norfolk Place—he turned into Norfolk Street—when I was within about seven yards of him, he turned and fired apparently at my head—I stooped, and holding my right hand before my forehead I ran on—I think McDonnel was behind me, but I did not see him—nobody was between me and Lawrence then—he fired a second shot—I closed with him, and grasping the revolver in my left hand, I threw my right arm round him and threw him to the ground—the revolver was knocked out of his hand by another constable, and he was taken to the station—I do not remember anything being said on the way—my hand had a long wound on the back—it is all right again now—I should think it was caused by the second bullet.
Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. It was not a serious wound—it would not be difficult to miss my head if he aimed at it—I was running fast from the time I took up the chase—I did not have much of a struggle with Lawrence when I caught him—at the police court he said "I am sorry.I did not mean it for you."
Re-examined. I have been in hospital for my hand—I also sprained my left hand through falling with Lawrence.
MR. JUSTICE GRANTHAM considered that there was no evidence against Elston.
NOT GUILTY .
LAWRENCE GUILTY on the third count. —He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of Felony at Clerkenwell on October 17th, 1899,and three other convictions were proved against him.
(See next case.)
328. GEORGE LAWRENCE and GEORGE ELSTON were again Indicited for stealing a watch, two chains and other articles, the property of Thomas Daffern Carpenter;Second Count, receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
Mr. Justice Grantham directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY as to Lawrence.
THOMAS DUFFERN CARPENTER . I live at 158, Stroud Green, Hornsey, where I manage a Bodega shop—at 8.30 p.m. on March 8th I examined my back bedroom window on the first floor—it was securely fastened—about 9.45 I went into the yard—I heard somebody getting over the wall—I did not see anybody, but I found a desk of mine open, and some papers scattered about—the desk had been kept in my bedroom—I found the window open—I afterwards saw a chain and pendant in the possession of the police which are mine; they are worth £13 or £14.
Cross-examined by Elston. There were other articles lost beside these.
GEORGE PRIDE repeated his former evidence.
Elston in a written statement said that he picked up half a red hankerchief in a Shoreditch urinal, with the jewellery in it; that a man there asked him what he was going to do with it, and that he (the prisoner), said he was going to take it to the police station.
GUILTY on the second count.—He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on October 23rd, 1899,as Percy Taylor. Five years' penal servitude. LAWRENCE.— Ten years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, April 11th, and Monday, April 14th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. AVORY, K.C.,and MR. CRAIG Defended.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am an official of the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file in the bankruptcy of Moffat Brothers, of 21 and 22, Warwick Street, Regent Street, woollen merchants—the firm consisted of Thomas Moffat and John Dalgetty Duthie—the petition and receiving order are dated February 21st, 1901, and the adjudication March 14th. 1901—in the statement of affairs the liabilities are £31,501 13s. 4d., and the assets £26,792 10s. 11d., showing a deficiency of £4,709 2s. 5d.—the transcript of the public examination is on the file—the examination took place on May 10th.
Cross-examined. The receiving order was made on the debtor's own petition.
THOMAS NESS . I am assistant manager of the National Bank of Scotland, Nicholas Lane—Moffat Brothers have had an account there for many years—the prisoner was a member of the firm—this is the pass-book, it is an accurate copy of the ledger—I wrote a letter to Moffat Brothers stating, "In view of the advance in discount you have from us, and looking at
the enquiries that are certain to be made, we should like to see your latest balance-sheet at your early convenience '—in answer to that I received this letter in the prisoner's writing (Dated February '26th. Enclosing a copy of the balance-sheet and dating that they held security for their loans, and that their last nine months' trading was £3,000ahead of last year, that their business was never in such a satisfactory position as at present and they hoped in a few days to dear off their overdraft.)—Their over draft at that date was £2.316 5s.—I was satisfied and continued to allow the over draft—I returned the enclosed document to them—about August 13th 1900. I had an interview with the prisoner at the bank—I think we sent for him—I asked him for a later balance sheet—he said that he would send it—the overdraft then was £1,397 17s.—next day 1 received this letter in the prisoner's writing (Slating that they had not got a copy of the balance sheet, but enclosed a copy of the figures from the ledger.)—This is the enclosed balance sheet—it is in the prisoner's writing, and gives Moffatt's capital as £-20.448 0s. 3d.—the over draft on May. 31st was £1,577 19s. 4d.—the totals of the balance-sheet agree with the book—there is no such figure as £22.506 in the private ledger, but the sundry debtors and £477 18s. cash at the bankers and in hand make up that sum, but there was an overdraft of £1.500—I was under the impression that they had good debts to the amount of £28,000—if I had known that in that balance sheet the overdraft was ignored I should have called up the overdraft, but I allowed it to continue and to increase: it had grown to £3,805 15s. 6d. on September 6th 1900—it was £1,397 9s. 6d. in August—we wanted to have security, and a guarantee signed by four persons was deposited with the bank on August 15th, 1900—it was signed by Mr. John Stewart, of the firm of Kay and Stewart, Huddersfield; Walter Sykes of Zetland Mills, Huddersfield: Oliver Hay and John Dalgetty Henderson—our bank has not suffered the overdraft was fully paid off by the firm on February 4th, 1901. in various sums, and then the account became in credit.
Cross-examined. The payments made by the bank and to the bank appear in this pass-book—they include the discounting of bills and if they are returned we debit the account—we were not satisfied with the class of bills they brought us we thought they were accommodation bills, and asked them to give us a guarantee for £4,000—I saw the prisoner in August, and said that I wished the guarantee arranged because of the character of some of the bills, and he sent the names of the guarrantors—that was for the purpose of securing the bank generally—it did not extend to an overdraft, it was confined to discount—they generally had £6.000 or £7,000 worth of bills running—the mind of the bank would be affected by the improved position we had such confidence in him—we had never limited their over draft to any particular sum—the practice was to give—discount on bills coming in—I think payments are made by merchants by four months' bills all the year round—the four months' bills given in August were acceptances of the firm—I was not satisfied, because the overdraft used to be occasional, but it became more frequent—most of our customers show us their balance-sheets every year—there was £1,500 to
their credit on August 9th—the difference was caused by large amounts which were paid—the account was better than at any time during that year—when I did get the balance-sheet, I merely looked at two items—I saw that the two partners had £6,000 of capital—the bank had a surplus of between £600 and £700 at the bankruptcy, which was paid to the trustee.
Re-examined. The amount of overdraft allowed, depends upon what we consider the position of the firm, and we see the balance-sheet from time to time—when a balance is struck, it generally goes to the bank—the account is generally indebted after August 13th—the overdraft was arranged in September, and I then went for my holiday—the referees, names may have been given to me before I left.
WALTER SYKES . I am a manufacturer, of Zetland Mills, Huddersfield, and am a creditor for £1.185 in the bankruptcy of Moffat Brothers—I have dealt with them for some time—on September 6th I received this letter signed by the prisoner, "You may positively depend on our cheque with interest on the 11th of this month, and I will ever afterwards toil fur you: our banker will let us have any amount, but would like some security; would you be willing to be one of four friends, it will not exceed £1,000, and will not cost you a shilling, and will only be for a short time, etc."—I know Mr. Stewart, he had such a letter as well, which he showed me—I was going on a trip to Paris, and being in London, called at 21, Warwick Street, on September 19th and saw the prisoner and told him that if I was satisfied with the balance-sheet, Mr. Stewart and I would become guarantors for £1.000 each—he produced two private ledgers for 1898 and 1899. and the last two balance-sheets—on May 31st the capital of Mr. Moffatt was £20.444 0s. 2d. and of Mr. Duthie £5,026 19s. 1d.—I asked if they had been compared by the accountant, he said "Yes"—on the other side was the amount of the book debts and the stock—I looked at the balance-sheet of May 31st, 1900, and that was nearly the same, and there was a balance "By cash at bankers," and "Sundry debtors. £23,000—I believed those were true figures—on August 15th I signed this guarantee and continued to supply goods on credit to Moffatt Brothers—these (Produced) are my invoices for goods supplied on October, 50th.£67 17s. 2d.; November 2nd. £8 11s. 6d.; November 5th,£64 17s. 9d.; November 27th, £269 8s. 3d.: and £259 0s. 4d. on the same day; December 4th.£28 6s. 4d.: January 16th.£28 2s, 1d.: and January 31st, £33 11s. 6d., which is fur goods sent in on January 30th—the goods supplied on November 20th and 27th were ordered in May or June—the balance-sheet which was produced to me induced me to supply the goods.
Cross-examined. My business is carried on on the same lines as Mr. Alfred Sykes'—he is no relation of mine—we send patterns by post in spring for autumn delivery—we seek instructions for delivery—if the date of delivery is specified we deliver according to the orders given in the spring, without instructions from the merchants without waiting for orders; we advise them—that was the course with Moffatt Brothers—those payments would not fall due till the following spring, and payment would be made in April by cash at 2 1/2 discount or by a four months' bill—we received orders from Moffatt Brothers about May or June, 1900—we have dealt
with them nearly 20 years, I think—when we took this order from them we did not contemplate asking for cash down at the time of delivery—when I went to see the prisoner in September, 1900, it was for the sole purpose of deciding whether I would be gaurantee to the bank; I was not aware that Mr. Stewart had already agreed to be a party to the guarantee—I believe it is unusual in London for merchants to have an overdraft at the bank, but in the country not at all; I should not think worse of him in Leeds—we should not refuse in Leeds to give credit to a man merely because he had an overdraft at his bank—the thing I chiefly looked at in the balance-sheet of May, 1900, was the capital and the drawings of the partners—I saw that the drawings of T. Moffatt were £1,229 for the year—there were also drawings for Mrs. Moffatt, making it £1,801, and the drawing of Duthie £486—he explained that Moffatt's drawings were more because he was removing into another house—the total drawings of 1899 were £1,091 and Duthie's £499—it was quite clear that the capital was invested in the business, but he said that he had given large credit—the assets consisted of the stock and the debts—I directed my attention to the capital, not to the cash balance at the bank—there was nothing to indicate that there was an overdraft at the bank—what I wanted to know was whether the firm was solvent at that date, and if it was I was willing to become guarantee—the average business I have done with them for 12 years has been £1,500 a year.
Re-examined. Orders were given in spring for delivery in the autumn, and fresh orders would be given in autumn, and these two cases of December 10th and January 30th were no exception to the general rule.
ROBERT HAYNE TROTTER . I have been in attendance on Mr. Alfred Sykes, of Brook Mills, near Huddersfield—he is suffering from neuralgia and is quite unfit to travel—I saw him at 6.30 this morning—his general condition was not so good as when I saw him last, but he had been downstairs in the evening—he walked with difficulty: with a staggering gait—he is not fit to take a journey to London; it would have a very serious effect indeed upon him; it would be dangerous to his health—the weather is the same there as here.
WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Police Sergeant W.) I was present at Marlborough Street when Alfred Sykes was examined—his deposition was taken in the prisoner's presence and read over to him and Counsel cross-examined him. (The deposition of Alfred Sykes was then put in and read.)
JOHN STEWART . I am one of the firm of Kay and Stewart, of Broadfield Mills, Huddersfield—we are creditors in the bankruptcy of Moffat Brothers for £823 14s. 2d.—on September 6th I received this letter—it is in the prisoner's writing—the capital of the firm is stated at £26,000—I sent a telegram in reply, and followed it up by a letter of September 7th, of which this is a copy—(This stated, "We do not like becoming security for anyone, but having regard for you will do so.I suppose it is only for a few months.)—A letter from him of the same date crossed mine—(This requested the witness to have a few minutes chat with him.)—I showed Mr. Walter Sykes the letter as I went to Paris with him on a trip—I did not accompany her to the prisoner but I saw him the next day and he made a communication
to me and I subsequently signed the guarantee of October 15th—after September 6th I continued to send goods on credit—there were still orders on hand—on the way to Paris from Charing Cross Mr. Sykes gave me figures, and told me that he found the capital of the business was represented in the letter which Duthie wrote to me on September 5th; he confirmed the figures and the information in the letter, and I was satisfied, and continued to deliver goods to Moffatt Brothers—on October 2nd I delivered goods, value £45 13s. 3d., out of stock and on November 13th, £186 6s.—I produce the invoices—those were not taken out of stock, they were spring orders specially made—I was induced to do so by the representations on the balance-sheet—I have not been paid for them.
Cross-examined. We have already received 13s. in the pound dividend, and hope for more—we take orders in May and June for delivery in November and December—we keep stock patterns—the goods invoiced on November 13th, 1900, were specially made for Moffatt Brothers in June or July and delivered in November—the others were taken from stock—the last order was September 4th, and all before September 6th—this (Produced) is my writing, it is a memorandum of an order given me in their warehouse—I was away in Sweden all August, and on my return this letter arrived—I heard rumours about the same time—prior to September 6th I had not given any orders that goods ordered by Moffatt Brothers were not to be delivered on the usual terms—Mr. Walter Sykes' visit was on September 19th, but I did not see him till the 28th—his conversation was solely with reference to my becoming guarantee at the bank.
FREDERICK EASTWOOD . I am a manufacturer of Huddersfield, in partnership with my son—we are creditors of Moffatt Brothers to the extent of £1,455 18s. 11d.—on September 8th we received this letter, "Dear Sirs, Kindly draw on us at four months for statements received. Will you be so good as to renew ours of September 13; we hoped never again to trouble you, but we are left rather tight. We can render you any information referring to the terrible times we are passing through"—I cannot say what the terrible times were, we were not suffering—the bill due on September 13th was for £769 7s.—we sent a wire, and then wrote this letter—(Enclosing a bill at four months and agreeing to their request as to the renewal.)—we then received this letter of December 11th, signed Moffatt Brothers (Stating that they were perfectly safe in obliging them, and would give Mr. Eastwood satisfactory proof of it.)—I then wrote,"September 12th Gentlemen. Your's of yesterday to hand; we have retired the bill due to-morrow"—on September 20th I came to London with my son, and saw the prisoner—he said that he was delighted to see me, and would afford me any information, that the firm was profectly sound and good, and he produced the balance-sheet—I had heard rumours, but did not say that my visit was in consequence of them—I examined the balance-sheet and ledger carefully, and turned back for several years and saw the balances of the partners—I asked him who prepared them—he mentioned some firm of accountants in Coleman Street—the cash at the bank was £389 14s. 3d.—I thought Mr. Moffatt's drawings were rather heavy, much heavier in 1900 than in 1899, for which some reason was given, but I was so satisfied with the balance-sheet
that I did not go into particulars—we continued to supply goods on credit—on October 2nd we supplied goods to the amount of £ 217 1s., and on October 9th £32 13s. 6d.—this is the invoice—a portion had been on order a long time and a portion had been ordered by wire on November 7th here are two invoices total £69 1s. 6d.—on January 23rd goods, value £30 3s., were delivered to them because we had orders for them and because I had seen the balance-sheet, and was satisfied that the firm had £35.000—those arc parts of the consignments proved in the bankruptcy.
Cross-examined. Our dealings with the firm amounted roughly to upwards of £2,000 a year—we send or call with patterns, and arrangements are made with merchants and we send the goods—the merchants confirm or cancel the orders they have given—when we take the order from the merchants, and get their information in point of fact we accept those orders—if we heard rumours we should exercise consideration. And would not deliver to a house which we had had any trouble with—all these goods except nine pieces, were for the spring contract—the others might be ordered of my son—we did retire—and renew the bill for £769. and it was paid at maturity—I took no verbal orders myself—I do not know in whose writing the written orders are.
Re-examined. This (produced) is the written order I received on November 7th—it is Moffatt Brothers' writing to my son for the order to be delivered on October 16th.
HENRY ARNOLD EASTWOOD . I was with my father on September 20th 1900, when he called on Moffatt Brothers—I saw the balance-sheet and the private ledger—I called there again on October Kith, and received an order of which this invoice of October 1 7th is part—this invoice of November 7th is for £13, and is part of the same order—this invoice of January 22nd for £20 3s. was for goods ordered on January 23rd—I then received this letter. "I am heart-broken and almost crushed out of my hope of living: when I saw you and your respected father I did not know our balance-sheet was the very best we could make: I had no idea our affairs were in such a state till we had taken stock.I have made a frightful mistake, deceiving myself and everybody else: I can never hope to have the confidence of the creditors. I blame no one, but I have a terrible tale to tell, J. D. Duthie.
By THE COURT. I cannot say who gave the orders of October 16th and January 3rd but they were given by a member of the firm.
WILLIAM ALFERD PLAGUE . I am one of the firm of Platt. Norton & Co., Old Jewry—Mr. Norton is a trustee in this bankruptcy—I received an order to audit the books of Moffatt Brothers and commenced on December 10th, 1900—I was at work on 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th and on the evening of the 14th the prisoner jumped into the same carriage as myself, and said that he was pleased to find me alone in the carriage as the audit had proceeded so far he thought he, had better tell mo that for some years he had been deceiving his partner by placing before him a false balance-sheet, omitting amounts owing by the firm and also to the firm (Mr. Moffatt did not take an active part in the firm, but in buying and selling the goods) and that he was willing to assist us in the audit and to clear up the irregularities—I arranged for him to meet me at the ware-house
next morning with Mr. Moffatt at the counting-house in Warwick Street—I told him that we had found about 1,800 of invoices put into 1899 which belonged to the previous year before May, 1899—they were brought into the financial year—he said, "I believe that is so"—I saw him next day—I went on with the audit—I found the balance-sheet for 1899 incorrect on comparing it with the private ledger—sums were entered in the books as having been paid, which were not paid till after that date, making a total of £8.010 13s. 6d.—this (Produced) is a list of them, giving in one column the date appearing in the cash-book which I call the false date, and in another column the true date as appearing by the pass-book—here are two payments to Mr. Eastwood one of £1.158 11s. 6d. not paid till afterwards, and another of £970 13s. not paid till September—the effect of that is to diminish the apparent liabilities by that amount at that date—I find a number of short casts in the bought ledger accounts purporting to be paid, and the account is ruled off—I also find that a number of manufacturer's invoices are omitted which should have come in as liabilities—I produce a schedule of those invoices of earlier date than May 31st—an invoice of May 10th of £364 is omitted from the balance, which ought to have come in and another of April 21st, J. Sykes, £224, not taken into that year, total £1,862 13s. 2d.—a number of bills are omitted from the bill-book—the capital by the prisoner's balance-sheet on May 31st, 1899, is £25,653 11s. 3d., and by the amended balance-sheet £14,069, in round figures £11,000—in the balance-sheet of May 31st, 1900, I find "cash at banker's £349 14s. 3d., and I find that the overdraft was £1,579 19s. 4d.—that liability was never taken into account in the balance-sheet—I find in the previous year invoices omitted amounting to £2,194 18s. 4d.—I produce a schedule of them—cheques and bills are entered prior to May 31st amounting to £8,563 14s. 1d. which were not paid till afterwards—"the difference between the two balances comes to £14,000—I find in the cash-book an entry of £769 7s. as actually paid to Eastwood & Co on May 10th and discount entered as allowed, as though it had been paid in cash—on January 15th, 1901, the prisoner handed this document to Mr. Moffatt who handed it to me—(This was signed by the prisoner, stating that the condition of (he accounts was solely due to him, expressing deep regret for the defalcations, that he had no defence to offer, but desired that they might be debited to him stating that it was only dune to facilitate business, and admitting a deficiency of £10,000.)—I made my report about January 31st—I found that the firm was insolvent and could not continue to trade and that the creditors must shortly be called together and Mr. Moffatt sold the business to the trustees—I have seen the prisoner write—these letters. "A, "I," "S.1." "J.S.l" "J.S.3 and 4," "S.E.I and 2," "E land 2," and 'X.3 "arc in his writing.
Cross-examined. I have not examined the books prior to 1899—the order began with May 1st, 1899—the firm appeared to be solvent on paper in January, 1901, but they would be forced to pull up, as the manufacturers would not give them credit.
was aware that proceedings had been taken against me, I have been waiting for you to call, I have a perfect answer to the charge: my solicitors are willing to give the prosecutors every assistance in this matter"—I said, "You will be further charged with obtaining on October 20th, £57 17s. 2d. from Walter Sykes; on October 2nd, £43 13s. from John Stewart, and another; and on October 2nd, £247 1s. from Frederick Eastwood and another by false pretences"—he said he had a perfect answer—when formally charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. He had offered to surrender before the warrant was obtained.
THOMAS MOFFATT . I am in business at 21, Warwick Street, Regent Street—I was formerly in partnership with my brother as Moffatt Brothers, cloth merchants—the prisoner entered our service as clerk in 1884—he was 18 or 19 years of age—in 1895, my brother ceased to be partner, and I carried on the business alone for two years in the same name—from June 1st, 1897, the prisoner was admitted a partner—his business was principally in the counting-house, of which he previously had charge, in conjunction with my brother—I had nothing to do with the books, only with buying and selling—we had a balance sheet to May 31st each year, which was prepared from figures given to the accountant by the defendant by Read, Parker and Company—I was in the place at the audit, but took no part—I did not know the books were not properly kept, nor that the balance-sheet was false, until Mr. Norton discovered it in December 1900, nor that there was an overdraft at the bank at the latter part of that year—I did not look at the pass-book—the prisoner's capital on becoming a partner is stated as £2,500 in the balance-sheet of May 31st—I have serious doubts whether that is correct—my capital stands at £20,000 odd, and his at £3,815—his statement was handed to me by Mr. Slade, in consequence of which I called on Messrs. Norton to investigate the books, and as a result of their report, at the end of January, 1901, I called my creditors together—I found my capital of £20,000 was gone.
Cross-examined. When my brother was partner, the prisoner took the best part of the work in the counting-house, because my brother was in bad health—he died in 1898—the prisoner prepared balance-sheets which my brother did not supervise—I did not analyse the balance-sheets, I looked at the result which appeared satisfactory—I looked at the passbook, but never examined it—Parker and Company were employed in their preparation the better part of thirty years—I left it in their hands—they succeeded to a business—I believe before 1897 it had been the practice to exaggerate the assets in the balance-sheets, by taking goods as stock and omitting the liability to pay for them until they were paid for at some date in a subsequent financial year—the defendant brought in as capital about £5,000—£3,000 of it was borrowed from a personal friend of his for the purpose—he became entitled to one-third of the profits—I took the other two-thirds—I attended to the buying and selling, more than the defendant—the latter part of the time goods had to be sacrificed—we had been overbuying, but not materially—it might be to a thousand or two in the course of a year—some years we overbought, sometimes we did
not—we have to buy in anticipation of coming fashions, and sometimes create fashions—we bought six months beforehand—during 1900, trade conditions were against us—they had been so for two or three years before the failure—after the meeting of creditors, the prisoner offered to come back at a salary—I am not aware if the amount was £300—I did not entertain it—in consequence, he entered the employment of Messrs. Gullish, who are competitors—I have bought the business back again from the trustee in bankruptcy—the trustees Pratt and Norton and I valued it—I gave nothing for the goodwill—I have sent reports to persons the prisoner has been doing business with when asked for—this one to McKinley is in my writing, and this: "Kindly peruse the enclosed at your leisure," possibly I sent that without being asked.
Re-examined. I have received many inquiries since these proceedings were instituted—I lost confidence on the prisoner in December, 1900—within a month of calling on Pratt and Norton the prisoner never told me at the latter part of 1900, that we had overdrawn £1,000 to £3,000—he never directed my attention to the balance—I considered our position was perfectly good—I frequently inquired how the accounts stood—I had no idea the stock was exaggerated before 1897. and then only from what Norton told me.
BENJAMIN THOMAS NORTON . I am one of the firm of Pratt, Norton and Company, and trustee in the bankruptcy of Moffatt Brothers—referring to the statement of affairs, I find Joseph Sykes and Company creditors for £1,484 6d.; Walter Sykes, £1,185 3d.; Kay and Stewart, £823 18s. 2d.; and Eastwood and Company, £1,455 18s. 11d.—I have realised the estate, except about £1,500—the deficiency is £6,000 to £7,000 and will pay 14s. 6d., or I anticipate in all 15s. 3d. in the £ dividend; 1s. 6d. is the last statement—Thomas Moffatt gets nothing, he cannot prove—I examined the invoices and find the four purchases mentioned are entered except £3 9s. 4d.—the books showed a deficiency—they are in Duthie's writing—I have compared the cash book and the impersonal ledger with the passbook—they do not agree, the totals are not true—large sums are drawn out, which do not appear in cash-book or ledger—from May, 1897, to December 31st, 1900, the pass-book shows £26,393 paid into the bank in excess of that which appears in the cash-book, and £36,069 more drawn out—the difference between those two sums is £9,676—I have been unable to trace what has become of the money—in the balance-sheet of May 31st, 1897, the cash at bankers appears as £201 12s. 7d., but the actual cash in the bank was £2 2s. 1d.—in other respects the balance-sheet appears correct—the actual balance on May 31st was£49 0s. ld.—the total in the pass-book is £23,38414s. 9d.—the entry of May 29th, 1897, £212 12s. 6d., should be £12 12s. 6d.—I have examined Mr. Slade's statement "M" which states that for several years past goods have been passed unwisely, which had seriously reduced the balance-sheet, and I have compared the purchase and sales before and after the partnership—afterwards the gross sales were about £6,000 more than for the three previous years, and the gross purchases about £4,000 more per annum—the total purchases for the three years before were £87,218, and for three years after,
£100, 195, or an average of £33,198, and the sales previous to the partnership to be £102,603, or an average of £34,202, being £121,498, or an average of £40,499—there is foundation for the allusion in Mr. Slade's statement to extensive experiments with foreign travellers, and a serious loss arising from the opening of new ground—the books show an increase of £6,000 a year in expenses—about £500 a year before, and £527 a year afterwards was written off for losses, including bad debts—I have not been able to account for the disappearance of the £20,000 capital—at the end of the year stock which was out of fashion was disposed of at a loss—I have produced all letters in my possession—I have not been able to find one from Kays of February 24th, or one from Eastwood of September 26th, 1900.
Cross-examined. The capital would be invested in stock and debts, and might disappear by injudicious buying and selling—a portion was in the bank—I was present at the prisoner's examination in bankruptcy—it was very long—no one charged him with misappropriation of capital to my knowledge—a bill book was kept, but it did not contain complete entries of bills outstanding—I understood there was a junior to assist the clerk with the books—I heard that the prisoner was frequently away, travelling two or three days together—the firm frequently had to supply money to take up customer's bills—the customer should have been credited with the amount and debited with the bill in the books, but was not always—in a large number of cases I do not find it entered—the prisoner alleged that he lent Duncan of Glasgow £800 Duncan disputed it, and after investigation I was obliged to admit Duncan as a creditor—Mr. Moffatt has only purchased a small portion of the assets—I have realised the assets in the ordinary way—there was a little over £5,000 of stock—I carried on the business, and at the end of two months the Committee of Inspection authorised me to sell the stock to Thomas Moffatt and his nephew for £6,420 12s. 6d., including £380 for lease, goodwill, and fixtures—I heard, but not till during this trial that Moffatt had been offered a profit rental of £400 for these premises—the lease was not put down as of any value—it was a long lease—there were a warehouse on the ground floor and stock rooms in the basement—the upper portion was sub-let—it was in Warwick Street, Regent Street—I saw the good-will put in the bankruptcy statement at £200, and I realised £380 for the goodwill, fixtures, and fittings—before the bankruptcy, the goodwill might have been worth a considerable sum—this bankruptcy has cost about £ 1,900, including the Board of Trade particulars, law costs, out of pocket expenses, and remuneration—the total expenses will be about £2,150—the total deficiency is between £6.000 and £7,000, or deducting the cost about £4.000, but I realised assets above the bankrupt's statement of £1,300 to £1,500 which will go towards part of the expenses, about two-thirds of them—the beginning of 1901, I told Duthie that there was no possible hope of the firm going on unless £10,000 in cash was found at once, and that if he amongst his friends could find £5,000, Thomas Moffatt would find the other £5.000 and save the situation—there was a conference between the solicitors on either side and myself, and then a batch of bills had to be met about a week ahead when I made
that statement—then a notification was sent out to the holders of the bills on the solicitors' and my advice—the figures I have given do not show the net profit for the three years before and after the partnership—I can get them from the books—the books show a profit afterwards, but there was no profit—the figure "2 "has been added to the £12 12s. 6d. in the pass-book, as a debit to the bank, making it £212 12s. 6d.
Re-examined. In my opinion the business did show a profit for twentyfive years, there was nothing abnormal about it, and I see no reason to account for the loss, except the disappearance of cash—the books show a profit from 1897 to 1900—taking the interest on capital at £1,300 the net profit shown for the year 1898 was £1,153 1s. 9d., for 1899, £727 19s. 10d., and 1900, £1,170 17s. 2d.; there was no profit and loss account, but the accounts depend upon each other, and the prisoner hoodwinked the accountants who made the audit.
JAMES EDWARD GRIFFIN . I live at Walthamstow—I was a warehouseman to Moffatt Brothers—my duty was to check incoming goods with the invoices—I have been through the letters and invoices produced, and find that I received the goods in respect of them, with the exception of one of January 4th, for £19 8s. 6d., this is not charged.
Cross-examined. Moffatt Brothers dealt with about thirty firms supplying goods—in October the number may have been forty-six firms—the value of the goods was about £4,000 for October.
The prisoner received a good character.
Mr. Avory submitted that the goods-having been supplied on an antecedent contract, there was no evidence to go to the jury. (See Regina v. Abbott, 4Dennison, p. 273;Regina v. Kenrick, 52 B Reports; and Sale of Goods Act, sec. 63,sub-sec. 3.) The Recorder held that the case was for the jury.
GUILTY . Nine months in the second division.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, April 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. G. MATHEWS and MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
GEORGE ENGLISH BOYLE . I am a messenger in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of the bankruptcy of Ernest Edwin Woodhead who was adjudicated bankrupt on April 12th, 1901—he is described as a solicitor of 10, Gray's Inn Square—his liabilities are stated at £1,214 5s., and his assets as £1 10s. in his own statement of affairs—amongst the creditors is Caroline Maud Snowden on a judgment for £800—he was publicly examined, and this is a transcript of that examination which concluded on April 30th, 1901.
who is 84 years old—Mr. Owen Williams is my brother-in-law—through him I became acquainted with the prisoner about 1894—I saw him at his office, 6, Furnival's Inn, and he did business for me in a manner of which I had no occasion to complain—about that time Miss Hobson was desirous of providing for me—I mentioned to Woodhead £2,200 which she had invested in the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, and in the Glasgow and Southwestern Railway debenture stock at 4 per cent.—he said he thought I could obtain better interest by investments in house property around London—about 1895 or 1896, Miss Hobson executed a deed of trust in my favour—Woodhead prepared it. (Correspondence commencing on January 1st. 1896,between Woodhouse and the witness was put in, in which he recommended house property in the suburbs of London as more desirable investments than railway stock.) On November 12th I came to London with my husband and saw Woodhouse at his office, and we all three went to look at eight houses, 64, 66, 68, 70, 72.74, 76, and 78, Byne Road, Sydenham—I looked at the outside and went inside one—Woodhouse said he thought it was a very nice property, and would give a good return, and he highly recommended the houses—the owner was a Mr. Pharaoh, and the price was to be £3,400, and I believe I was to pay £1,200.—I was very pleased with the houses, and instructed him to buy them—the name of Henderson was not then mentioned, nor of any intermediary between the owner and myself—my husband is a land agent, but had not then any London experience—I formed my own judgment, and decided to purchase and to provide the purchase money by selling one of the railway stocks, and borrowing two-thirds of the purchase money—I had no reason to doubt the prisoner's statement in his letter of November 14th that the vendor asked for the usual deposit of 10 per cent., and I enclosed this cheque for £.340 in my reply of November 16th, which left £887 to pay, and on November 23rd he wrote and sent the particulars I had asked for, and which showed an annual profit of £159 19s.—I afterwards sent him this cheque of December 2nd for £887, which sum I received from the sale of the shares of one of the railways, believing that sum was still due on the purchase-money—the deed of assignment and the declaration of trust which Miss Hobson executed I received in the prisoner's letter of December 7th, but the date was left blank: it now appears—the deed recites the assignment from Pharaoh to Henderson—I did not know that the prisoner was acting for Henderson—I asked him by letter about these matters, and received the reply of December 9th that the deed was in order, the date was left blank for convenience—on March 12th I wrote this letter to the prisoner, asking if he had any nice investment for the remainder of the trust money, and in reply he supplied me with particulars of five leasehold houses at Bedford Park, and four at Buckley Road, Streatham, which were to be sold together—I came to London with my husband on May 11th, 1897—we went with the prisoner to see the property at both those places, and as to which he said practically the same as he had said about the Byne Road property, that he highly recommended it—it was arranged that I was to pay one-third of the purchase price, which was stated to be £3,200—he said that Mr. Smith was the owner—I do not
remember his saving that he was acting for Smith—I agreed to the purchase for £1, (500 for the Bedford Park property, and £1,600 for the Buckley Road property, and the 10 per cent deposit, and I sent him the cheque for the £320 for that deposit, and received this receipt—to provide for that I sold my Baltimore and Ohio Railway bonds—he never told me that there was any intermediary—I sent the bonds to Woodhead for sale in my letter to him of September 2nd, 1897, and received the reply that he had sold them, also his statement showing £175 5s. 4d. due to him—I left the management of the three properties entirely to him, and received quarterly remittances regularly from him till three or four years ago, when they became less regular, till in the spring of 1899 I consulted Mr. Milling a solicitor of Leeds, and we had an interview with him on May 18th, 1899—Mr. Milling asked him about the remittances, and he said that a good many of the houses were empty—about June, 1899. I was served with two writs at the instance of the mortgagee for the non-payment of interest—that was the first I heard of non-payment of interest by Woodhead—I again consulted Mr. Milling—after that Woodhead commenced an action against me for £88 3s. 4d.—I counterclaimed for £880, and got judgment for the balance of £800—he had obtained £400 on the first property and £480 on the second by misrepresentation—the action was tried before Mr. Justice Wills in December 1900—if I had known that Woodhead was acting for Henderson, and buying the Byne Road property for £3,000 which he sold to me for £3,400,1 would not have parted with my money, nor if I had known that I was buying for more than it was worth—I believed the real owner had been asking £3.400 for it, and that the owners of the other property were asking £3,200, and so parted with the £320—that is what induced me to execute the assignments produced—I believed his representations.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Before coming to London I thought I was in possession of the whole particulars—I only had what you sent me—I agreed to pay £3,400 on the statements you sent me—I relied upon my own judgment as far as it went—I was satisfied until the rents came in irregularly—I did not suspect that you had not told me the true facts till I was informed by Mr. Milling—I relied upon your advice—I do not know that the property was worth £550 more than I paid for it.
JOHN WILLIAM BYGRAVE . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Attenborough and Sons solicitors—our client. Mrs. Amy Attenborough, lent Mr. Pharaoh money on mortgage on premises in the Byne Road, Beckenham—in 1896 Pharaoh was in arrears with his interest and I threatened to realise the security—a contract for the sale of property outright was prepared—I sent it to Woodhead for approval—the purchaser was J. G. Henderson—the contract is dated November 12th, 1896, and is for £3.000 and £150 deposit—the documents were exchanged on November 23rd, 1896—I received a deposit of £150 by this cheque signed by Woodhead, date 3 November 20th, 1896. and £340—I had no knowledge of Mrs. Snowden being interested at that time—a draft assignment was submitted by Woodhead and approved—the purchase was completed on December 7th, 1896—there were two mortgages amounting to £2.250—this is the assignment by Pharaoh
to Henderson—Henderson did not attend the appointment, and Woodhead gave me this undertaking to obtain his signature, and I received that day notes and cash for £589—Woodhead and I discussed the rate of interest on the balance of the £3.000, which he thought too high—when the deed was executed with regard to the interest on the mortgage money that was the first time I heard of Mrs. Snowden in connection with the Byne Road property—on July 8th 1897. Woodhead came to me and asked if I could arrange with a client who would lend £2.150 on property in Buckley Road, Streatham and Flanders Road. Bedford Park valued at £2,750—I prepared abstract of title and mortgage deed. and attended completion on September 8th of the Buckley Road and September 23rd, 1807, of the Flanders Road property—I understood from Woodhead's letter that Mrs. Snowden was the owner of the Byne Road property, but I found there had been an intermediate sale to Smith, and that there was a sub-sale to Mrs. Snowden—Smith was not present at the completion, and I got Wood head's undertaking to obtain his execution of the assignment—Mr. Stilgoe was the vendor's solicitor and Smith conveyed the property to Mrs. Snowden—it was one deed—I lent £2.130 in sums of £1,430 on one property and £750 on the other—the price to Mrs. Snowden was £1.600 on each property—the mortgage interest was paid by Woodhead at first regularly, and afterwards irregularly—eventually I sued Mrs. Snowden for principal and interest but the matter was put into Mr. Milling's hands and an arrangement was made—we did not want to take possession of the property.
Cross-examined. I had the property valued at £2.750 for mortgage purposes—that was not £550 more than she paid which was £3.200.
JOSEPH COLLETT SMITH . I am assistant manager to a firm of chemists—when I first knew Woodhead fifteen or sixteen years ago I was employed by that firm—he had acted for me in one or two matters and in the beginning of 1897 he came to me and said in effect that he knew of an opportunity to purchase some house property that he believed to be worth very much more than the price to be paid for it and if I purchased it he believed he could sell it for me again at a good profit—one part of the property was in Buckley Road. Streatham and the other in Flanders Road, Bedford Park, Chiswick—he said that I should not have to find any money. That he would advance that—I consented—I never saw the property—when I saw him again he said, "I have been able to sell the property for you—I never paid a sixpence—I was to attend the completion—I went to Mr. Attenborough's office in Ely Place and signed a deed—I did not read it—I asked Woodhead if it was all right, and he said "Yes"—I was to have £150—when I asked him for it he said it was not convenient for him to pay just then would I lend it to him and I agreed to do so—I got a second charge on his house, but no interest on the money—these are the deeds which I signed—in 1899 I read a letter from Mr. Tremain, a solicitor, and the London agent of Mr. Milling, and saw Woodhead about it—he drafted this letter for me to reply [Dated July 10th, 1899. and stating that he sold the property to Mrs. Snowden and Miss Hobson that the price paid and received was correctly stated, and that he had no desire to be troubled further about it.] I heard of the writ in an action against Woodhead and asked
him for an explanation—he said the action had gone against him because he had failed to advise the purchaser that the vendor was making a profit—he returned my charge on his house—I did not know that it was of no value—I bought the property and sold it again, but never spent any money nor received the £150.
Cross-examined. After I consented to buy the property I gave you authority to sell it on my behalf at a profit, but not to ask for £10 per cent, deposit—I do not remember any conversation about 10 per cent, deposit—I held you responsible for £150 until I returned the charge.
ERNEST GIBBS . I am a partner in Gibbs and Winterton, auctioneers—in March, 1897, I had instructions to offer for sale the houses in Buckley Road, Streatham, the subject of this inquiry—I advertised them, and in consequence of an answer from Woodhead I went to' see him, after sending him particulars—we agreed the price at about £1,400—I never heard during the negotiations the name of Smith as the purchaser—I understood Woodhead was buying for a client—I paid him £8 commission on completion.
ARTHUR SALMON . I am managing clerk to Mr. Milling, a solicitor of Leeds—I produce the original letters between Woodhead and Mrs. Snowden and his statement of affairs—Mrs. Snowden was our client—Woodhead brought an action against her for repairs, and we counterclaimed—I knew from the documents that Henderson had been the intermediate vendor—in January, 1900, I inspected the documents at Woodhead's office under an order of inspection—Woodhead brought out two cheques, and said, "Here are two-cheques which are not included in the affidavit of documents"—they are drawn by Woodhead and payable to Henderson—I made a note of them on the copy of an affidavit I had with me—the one dated October 2nd, 1897, is for £123, and the other, dated May 15th the same year, is for £100—he said they were in respect of Henderson's profit in the Byne Road property, and they did not make up the full amount, because he had an account against Henderson: that Smith left his money with him and that he invested it for him—Woodhead delayed setting down his action for trial against Mrs. Snowden, and she set it down—it was tried in December, 1900, before Mr. Justice Wills, with the result of a judgment for £800 for Mrs. Snowden after dedutcing Woodhead's claim for repairs—she has received nothing under that judgment.
THOMAS SALTER . I am a clerk in the filing department of the Royal Courts of Justice—I produce the writ and other documents in the action of Woodhead r. Snowden including the office copy of judgment in favour of Woodhead for £83 3s. 4d., and in favour of Snowden for £800 and costs—the dates are December 4th 5th and 6th, 1900.
WILFRED HAMILTON STILGOE . I am a solicitor of 29. Essex Street, Strand—in 1897 I advertised the sale of 10.12.14, and 18, Flanders Road, Bedford Park—I received this letter of May 11th from Woodhead to my agent. Mr. Mordant offering to purchase for £1.320 on behalf of J. Collett Smith—I received the deposit of 5 per cent £66 by this cheque from Woodhead, and the completion took place on September 23rd. 1897—I have the entry in my bank-book that it was paid in on May 27th.
RICHARD HILLS . I am a clerk in the accountants' bank-note department. Bank of England—I produce Bank of England notes Nos. 42801 of June 17th, 1896, "for £100, which reached the bank on October 29th, 1897, a £20 and a £5 note of October 9th, and six £10 notes of March. 3rd, 1897,' numbered as in the margin, ten notes in all, and which came from the City Bank—these notes were paid one on October 20th and the rest on October 25th.
EDWARD KERWOOD ADAMS . I am a clerk of the London City and Midland Bank, Holborn Branch—I produce a certified copy of Woodhead's account at that bank—it has been examined, and is correct—I find payments to the credit of Woodhead: £340 on November 17th, 1896, and on November 23rd £150 by this cheque—also a lot of small payments out—payments in of £887 on December 2nd, £589 3s. on December 7th, by this cheque (balance of Pharaoh to Henderson); £320 on May 21st, 1897, £709 14s. on August 23rd, and £220 on August 30th, and then to "self"£30, and on September 8th £638 15s. 6d., and on October 4th a payment out of £125—in the pass-book I find on October 4th, 1897, a cheque debited to Henderson of £125 (No. 18921), and from the waste-book three banknotes for £100, £20, and £5, including No. 42801, of June 17th, 1896—that was cashed over the counter—looking at the banking account I find paid in on October 4th, 1897, £144 15s., and the three notes of £100, £20, and £5 paid out, and the cheque to Henderson paid in—on October 22nd £100 was paid out by cheque No. 18937—two cheques are missing—in the pass-book I find £100 drawn out in the ten £10 notes produced, nine of them on October 2nd—there is one payment in of £139 3s. 7d., and a £10 note on May 27th in a sum of £41—all the notes were drawn out on the same day, and the others within three to five days after they were paid in—in the pass-book I find several payments to Pharaoh and to Henderson including one on October 4th, 1897, for £125, and £10 on October 2nd to Pharaoh, and £100 on October 22nd and £10 on October 16th to Henderson.
HENRY STORR BERRY . I am assistant examiner in the Official Receiver's Department of the Bankruptcy Court—I have investigated the prisoner's affairs in bankruptcy—I produce his books—I find a credit payment on November 4th of £180 from Charles Erard, and in the cash-book on November 17, 1896, £340 from Mrs. Snowden—in the fair copy Bill of Costs Book Index there is a reference to J. G. Henderson at pages 228 and 229—those pages have been cut out—the preceding page is dated October 11th, 1897, and the following page October 14th, 1897, and do not relate to the same person, but to bills dated on October 11th, July 28th to August 6th, and on October 14th, 1897—in the prisoner's cheque-book I find no cheque or counterfoil for £125 on October 4th, 1897, No. 18921, nor on September, 1897, No. 18937—I know the prisoner's writing—these are press copy letters to Henderson.
JOHN GEORGE HENDERSON . I am a chemist's manager—I have known Woodhead fourteen or fifteen years—in 1896 he mentioned some property in Byne Road, Sydenham, which he said was cheap and worth buying at £3,000, and asked if I should like to go in for it—I was then a chemist on my own account—I said I should like to see it—I had not £3,000—afterwards
I understood that it was bought for me for £3,000—I paid Woodhead £150 deposit—I got it from my brother—Woodhead mentioned the deposit—I had no banking account, I gave him notes—he gave me a receipt—I have not got it—it is destroyed—I destroy all my papers because they are too cumbersome to take about—I wrote an acknowledgment to my brother—he sent it in notes by post in an unregistered letter—I have been engaged in similar transactions—this was in October or November, 1896—I have no record of the transaction—in November, 1896, I was in difficulties—on November 14th I could only pay £1 a month on a debt of £10 or £12, and Woodhead wrote asking for leniency—that is all I could find for that purpose—he was acting for me in staving off execution—he knew my circumstances—it is so long ago I cannot remember the exact circumstances—I got the £150 from my brother to buy this property—it was his property, I was buying with his money—my business was going to the bad—I was in great difficulties—Woodhead was staving off the bailiffs—I got the cheque of October 4th, 1897, for £125 from Woodhead—he cashed it for me in notes and gold in his office on the same day—I suggested that most likely—I lost it speculating in horse racing, betting and bookmaking—I never had a similar transaction with Woodhead before; I have since—I have been in the habit of going to him for cash—the same thing happened on October 22nd as to £100—he cashed an open cheque in the office—he gave me notes of small value, I do not recollect what.
Cross-examined. I received both cheques—you handed me money—I instructed you to purchase for £3,000 and to sell to Mrs. Snowden for £3,400—I cannot remember what deposit was made, but I instructed you to ask for one—I think it was the usual deposit, that is 10 percent., and to pay 5 per cent on my behalf, or £150.
The prisoner in his defence said that he acted by instructions from Henderson and Smith, to buy and' sell the property at a profit, and from Mrs. Snowden to purchase the property at the Price and deposit she agreed to, and that this was done by a sub-sale, which was an everyday occurrence, and was carried out with no intention to defraud, but the missing leaves in the bill-book were taken out to produce in a civil action against Mrs. Snowden, and accidentally omitted to be replaced.
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, April 14th, 15th, and, 16th, 1902.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted,MR. HUTTON and MR. FORDHAM Defended.
HAROLD EDWIN OWEN . I live at 03. Poynton Road, Tottenham and am a polisher—I was playing with a football on Tottenham Marshes on Sunday, January 26th, about 10.45 near the Great Eastern Railway line and near the shunter's box—I kicked the football into the ditch which runs by the line—I followed it up and found it lying near the dead body of a woman who was lying in the ditch—I called out to a lad named Fox, and some others who were there some of them went and found a constable—I remained by the body till a constable and Dr. Wainwright arrived—I did not interfere with it.
HARRY FOX . I live at 2. Wickham Road, Tottenham—I was on Tottenham Marshes on Sunday morning, January 26th, with Owen and others Owen called out—I went to the ditch and saw the body lying there—I went and found a constable.
JOSEPH POTTS (600N.). On Sunday morning, January '26th.I went with Fox to the ditch on Tottenham Marshes—I was the first constable to get there—I remained there till Dr. Wainwright came—until then the body was undisturbed—I assisted to move it—I did not feel it—I cannot say if there were any signs of warmth in it—as we moved it I saw a woman's hat under it—the inside was downwards, and under the small of the woman's back—the pins were stuck through it as they are now—I did not see the hat till the body was removed—an umbrella was lying in the fold of her right elbow, rolled up as it is now.
Cross-examined. I think the body weighed about nine stone.
JOHN SHERGOLD (117N.). I joined Potts on January 26th—I assisted him with Dr. Wainwright and Inspector Hart in removing the body of the woman—after doing so I noticed this hat under the small of her back—her clothes were not disarranged in any way when I got there.
Cross-examined. She was of medium weight.
WILLIAM HART (Police Inspector.) I went on to Tottenham Marshes on the morning of January 26th with Dr. Wainwright—I saw this hat under the woman's back—I searched the place—I could not find any weapon—I noticed this jacket which the woman was wearing (Produced)—it was buttoned up—one of the buttons was missing—the night of January 25th was a very sharp and frosty night, and there was a full moon—I searched the spot again on January 28th—I found this small piece of skin hanging on a bush, and almost opposite a patch of blood upon the slope of the ditch—the patch of blood was about a foot square—I also found this piece of bone at the bottom of the ditch and near another patch of blood at the bottom of the ditch.
Cross-examined. There was a quantity of blood on the jacket.
ARTHUR STANTON RATHBONE WAINWRIGHT . I am a medical practitioner at 629. High Road. Tottenham, and Divisional Surgeon of Police—at 11.13 a.m. on January 26th I received a call to go to the Tottenham Marshes—I got there about 11.30—in a ditch near the shunters' cabin I saw the dead body of a woman which was subsequently identified as the body of Charlotte Cheeseman—her head was towards the wet bank—she had no hat on and was dressed in a tightly-fitting green jacket, the front of which was covered with blood—her face and hands were also covered
with blood—her arms were flexed across her chest and her fingers semiflexed—one leg was drawn up—her clothes were not disturbed—she was not quite cold—the ground was particularly hard, and there was no sign of a struggle in the ditch—rigor mortis was then commencing—I saw a blood stain on the bank nearest to the railway and opposite her hips—after the arrival of the inspector we lifted her on to an ambulance, and we found there was larger blood stain at the bottom of the ditch where her head had laid—I had the body removed to the mortuary where I made a careful examination of it—I found the marks of violence solely confined to the hands and head—the injuries had been produced by a chisel or a gardener's knife with a spring to it so that it would not close—on the dorsal aspect of the second right metacarpal bone on the right hand I found an incised wound inch deep and—) inch long, on the dorsal aspect of the right forefinger a wound 2 inches long, exposing the bone, an abrasion to the right knuckle, a compound facture of the second phalanx of the forefinger of the right hand, and a wound at the extremity of the finger—the whole of the hand was generally bruised and covered with blood—the left hand was covered with blood, and was much bruised and the little finger was abraised on the outer aspect—the face and head were covered with blood, and the hair which I had shaven off, contained clotted blood—there was a wound over the bridge of the nose one inch long, in a slanting direction from right to left; this had broken the nasal bones, and so admitted a probe 3 1/2 inches into the nasal cavity—there was a straight cut down the nose half an inch long, and two small wounds at the base of the nose—there was a large circular wound on the outer side of the right eye three inches long—the instrument which had caused it had fractured the mala or cheek bone, so that the outer orbit was not intact—in my opinion the blow which caused that had ruptured the eyeball—there was a wound on the right temporal bone one inch long, and extensive bruising over it—there was a wound behind the right ear two inches long—the upper part of the auricle was nicked, and there was a small wound at the basis of the junction of the ear with the head—there was a large amount of bruising on the left side of the top of the head and two wounds dividing the left auricle in its upper and lower third—there were two wounds corresponding to these auricle wounds at the junction of the auricle and the head—altogether I found seventeen incised wounds, but some of them had been caused by the same blow—on January 28th I made a Post mortem—the nasal bones were broken, the cheek bone, which is very thick, was broken—the wounds on the nose, eye, and fingers were caused by a very powerful and stubby instrument—a file like this drawing, sharpened at both ends, would cause the wounds if it was very sharp—you would expect, seeing that the end of it is oblique, that it would have slipped off a bit, and that might account for the wound being so large—an instrument of this description is, in my opinion, consisted with the injuries—I examined the brain—on removing the scalp I found there was extensive bruising over both the side bones—on removing the skull cap a hemorrhage was found on the surface of the right side of the brain—the hemorrhage was clotted, and about the size of a bantam's egg, but flattened—the injury to the nose did not cause very extensive internal bleeding—
if the woman was lying on her back the blood would find its way into the pharynx; that would make her cough—if she could not cough it all away it would impede respiration, and if the hemorrhage was sufficient it would choke her.—I should think the injuries to the eye and nose would cause very considerable pain and I should think would stun the person who received them—after receiving either of the blows I think she would be incapable of resistance—I think both those blows had been repeated quickly one after the other—the cause of death in my opinion was failure of the heart's action caused by exhaustion and hemorrhage caused by the blows on the head—I think death had been gradual—I formed that opinion because the amount of hemorrhage had not been large—it was a mere smear on the bank, and exactly the shape of the woman's head—it was only enough to redden the blades of grass, it was not in the substance of the earth—where the head had rested at the bottom of the ditch there was more hemorrhage, but if it had been all collected together it would not have amounted to much more than a quarter of a pint—the amount of hemorrhage does not necessarily depend on the length of time the woman lived after she received the blows—she did not recover consciousness—there was a clot of blood on the surface of the brain which would cause her to remain unconscious—I think she had been dead six or eight hours before 11.30, but I think it was longer than six hours—she might have died at any time—I was present when the body was exhumed on March 12th, to be examined by Mr. Pepper—it was the same body that I had seen at the mortuary.
Cross-examined. On that occasion the woman's nails were examined to see whether there was any skin under them—I did not expect to find any, because I believe the scratches on the prisoner's face were very superficial—I never saw the prisoner, so, as far as my own knowledge goes. I do not know if they were superficial or not—if they had been deep scratches I should have expected to see skin under the nails—there was nothing in the deceased's nails to lead me to believe that they had scratched anybody—the instruments I mentioned at the police court were a gouge a chisel and a knife—the instrument must have had a sharp edge—when I first saw the body I thought it had been moved—I satisfied myself then that she was dead, and had died from violence—I made a careful examination of her then and of the way she was lying—I thought she had been moved, because I saw where her head had rested on the bank—and I saw also that underneath her head there was more blood than there had been in the other place—I thought she had been lifted and not dragged—I did not weigh the body—I think she weighed over nine stone—she was very chubby—an inanimate body is more difficult to carry than an animate one although the same weight—I do not believe one man could have carried her very far—if a chisel was the instrument used, the blunt end must have been used as well as the sharpened end—I should think all the injuries were done pretty quickly, and in rapid succession—that would indicate two different parts of the same weapon—two of the wounds could have been caused by a kick, they wore abrasions, not wounds, there was no blood coming from them—I am not prepared to say if the woman had had connection that night—I should say that sexual intercourse had taken place
within ten days, or it might have been within ten hours—I found spermatozoa present.
Re-examined. I think the body was removed after the receipt of the injuries—the quantity of blood on the bank was so small that it made me think the body had only rested there for a minute—the patch of blood may have been seven inches by nine inches, but it was very thin—if her head had rested there when she received the injuries, her body could have been swung into the bottom of the ditch without taking it off the ground at all because it was taking it from high to lower ground—if the woman was lying down voluntarily, and then received the injury to her eye, I should not expect to find evidence' of a struggle, but I should expect to find footmarks, because the person who caused it probably would not have stood in one place—if he was going to have connection, and was kneeling, I should expect to find marks from the toes of his boots—I took the spermatozoa from the body on the Thursday after the inquest was adjourned—the deceased was not a virgin—I cannot say if the first connection had been recent or not, there was no sign of recent rupture—the first connection could not have been as recent as the night before, it must have taken place some time ago but I cannot say whether it was a month or a year—she was not pregnant.
By the COURT. The upper blood mark on the bank was half the woman's height—from the lower mark, that would be about two feet six inches—if the centre of the body remained on the ground, that would bring the head from the place where it was first to where it was last—it would not take such a strong man to do that as to lift her—the blood was not scattered about—I think the injury must have been caused while she was on the ground, because it could not have been caused unless there was an opposing object, and the ground was the opposing object—if she had been standing up; the blow would not have been so severe.
By the JURY. I think there were about three hair pins in her head.—her hair was done up in a sloppy. way, it was half down part of it was coiled up and part was hanging down, it was untidy—after a post mortem the body is generally washed and dressed, and placed in the coffin by the mortuary keeper.
By MR. MUIR. This (Produced.) is a photograph of the deceased after death—her hat was put on for the purposes of the photograph—I did not see the little piece of skin and bone till seven weeks afterwards, but I think it is a piece of the nasal bone—I cannot say where the skin came from—think it is skin, but I have only casually seen it.
By MR. HUTTON. Her hands did not present the appearance of a struggle they did of a defence—if a struggle took place it must have been before she laid down, her hands were flexed, but they were not wounded on the inside—I think she struggled a little.
By MR. MUIR. Her hands being flexed would indicate that she had clawed at him and had endeavoured to prevent him—the wounds on the back of her hands would indicate that her hands went up to her face.
Hospital—I have for many years past given expert evidence on questions of surgery in Courts of Justice—I was asked to examine the body of the deceased, and on March 12th I saw the coffin opened—the injuries were practically as described by Dr. Wainwright—the body was in a good state of preservation and not in any way interfering with observation and formation of judgment—in my opinion the deceased was lying on her back when the injuries were inflicted—one of my reasons for that opinion is because of the wounds all over the back of the hands and on the face and head—there were no wounds below that—another reason is because I understood the blood was found on the upper part of the dress and clothing merely, and the lower part of the jacket—if the wounds had been inflicted while the woman was in a standing position there would be a great deal of blood on the ground, the dress, and the boots—the nasal bones, and the bone on the outer side of the right eye socket were smashed; that could not be done nearly so easily if she had been standing there was practically no trace of the right eyeball, and Dr. Wainwright at the time told me it was burst when he made his first examination—the instrument to have inflicted such injuries must have been a cutting instrument, such as a chisel—I doubt if a knife would do it because it is very difficult with a knife to produce such wounds as these—the two wounds on the nose were clean cut wounds, from end to end, and the same depth throughout—however strong a knife may be, a wound inflicted by it almost always tails a little at the ends—it must have been a very strong instrument indeed to break the bones—a file sharpened at both ends like this drawing could quite easily cause the injuries I saw—the person receiving either of the severe wounds to the head would become unconscious almost immediately—the bursting of the eyeball and the injuries to the nose, would make a person faint right off, the bursting of the eyeball alone would probably do so—the state of the brain would continue the unconsciousness and render it permanent—if the person was lying on her back the blood from the nose would go down the back of the throat—the bleeding would be very profuse—one result would be a sensation of choking, and another result would be real choking if the person was unconscious—a patient could not get rid of the blood in the windpipe—I should think the blows were all inflicted in quick succession—the bruising at the side of the head could be caused by a kick or violent bashing of the head against the ground-in my opinion the woman would be dead within a few minutes after the receipt of the injuries—I carefully examined the nails of the deceased—they would be able to inflict scratches on a man's face, they were not particularly long or short—I examined the substance beneath them to see if there was any human skin there—there was none, simply some blood clots—her hands were covered with blood—I have seen the plans and photographs of this ditch—it would be possible and with the greatest ease, to swing the deceased from the side of the ditch to the bottom and without the person doing it getting blood on his clothes—this box (Produced.) contains a small piece of skin and a piece of bone which I think come from the nose or is a little piece of the cheek or off the outer side of the eye socket, they are too small to identify absolutely.
Cross-examined. I agree with Dr. Wainwright's evidence in the main—it is not at all improbable that a man moving the deceased would get blood on him—if a person scratched another down the face you might find skin in the nails or not; I think in the majority of cases you would not find any—I have examined a good many cases to find skin, but I have never found any—if the scratches were superficial then of course, you would not get skin—the ends of a file would have to have a distinct cutting edge, not necessarily quite so sharp as a knife, to cause the wounds—it is possible, but exceedingly improbable, that a knife would cause them—I do not think it' the ends of a file were very pointed that they would slip off, because" the mere fact of its being pointed would fix it—the deceased could not have lived for two or three hours—there must have been considerable bleeding.
EDWARD MATTHEWS . I live at 10, Avebury Street, Hoxton—that is not far from the Rosemary Branch public-house, or from Eagle Wharf Road—I married Annie Cheeseman, the deceased was my wife's sister—the decease and her brother lived with me—she worked at a cigar factory—she had a latch-key and came in when she pleased—I have known the prisoner about two years—during the last twelve months he used to walk out with the deceased—I believe they were keeping company—one day my wife myself the prisoner and the deceased were together—I cannot remember if it is one or two years ago—the prisoner said he meant well by her (the deceased.) and he would marry the girl—there was a rumour about that he had done what he should not have done—my wife was confined on January 11th last—on that day I was with the prisoner in the Stewart Arms in Hoxton—I do not remember if he said anything to me about marrying the deceased—I remember giving evidence before, a long time has elapsed since then—I have not had any beer to-day—about Christmas I noticed the deceased had a swoollen face—my wife made a statement to me about it—I know a man named Bruce—since just before Christmas he used to walk out now and again with the deceased—when I saw the swelling on her face I went to the prisoner's house with Bruce and another man.—I believe we went after my wife's confinement—Bruce and the prisoner spoke and I ran up and made a blow at the prisoner—I do not know if I said anything—the prisoner ran into his house and shut the door—next day I went again with Bruce to the prisoner's house—we met him in Shepherdess Walk—he was asked whether he had the ring which Joe had given the deceased—I do not know which of us asked him that—he said he had not had it, and he handed a letter to Bruce, which he read—I think this (Produced) is the letter—the prisoner said, "This is what she gave mo on the Friday"—on January 25th I saw the deceased about 4.30 p.m.—she was wearing a fawn jacket or cape and a hat similar to this one, with a feather in it—I never saw her alive again—next day I saw the prisoner outside my door—it was after six p.m.—he said, "Where is Charlotte?"—I said, "I do not know.I understood she was with you"—he said he had not seen her—we went together to the Aberdeen public-house—I noticed some scratches about his face, one on each cheek and five or six on his forehead as if hands had caught him—they looked fresh—I asked him where he got them from—he said he had been haying a fight with
his landlord the night before and that his landlord had fought like a woman—he had marks like scratches or claws on his hands as far as his coat—he said he had bought the deceased a jacket for five shillings, he did not say where—when we parted he said he would see me on the Monday at dinner time to see if the deceased had come home or not—that was the last time I saw him until he was in custody—on Monday I read the account in the papers of the murder on Tottenham Marshes—I went to the police station and identified the body of the deceased at the mortuary at 11 a.m.
Cross-examined. I heard nothing about the murder on Sunday—I did not know that Bruce and the prisoner were going out with the deceased at the same time—as far as I know, she and the prisoner were on good terms till the letter came from Bruce—I do not know if she and the prisoner were going to be married—the prisoner said he would get married to her—he did not say why—they were not talking about being married at the time of my wife's confinement—I said before the Coroner that at the time of my wife's confinement they intended being married—the deceased would have a row sometimes—she would take her part if anyone upset her—she only quarrelled with my wife as sisters would do—they had a bit of a tussle once, and the deceased got a black eye—I do not know that she got drunk—she has been like half and half.
ANNIE MATTHEWS . I am the wife of the last witness—the deceased was my sister—at the time of her death she was about 22 years old—she worked at a cigar factory—at the time of her death she had been out of work for a fortnight—she had been working for a Mr. Freeman—I cannot say how long she had been with him, but it was for some months—I have known the prisoner about two years—he has been keeping company with my sister for about two years—they had quarrels but they made them up—I know Joseph Bruce-when my mother died four years ago my sister walked out with him, and she did so again last Christmas time—a little after Christmas I noticed some bruising or swelling on her face and some blood—she made a statement to me about it—I told my husband—a little after Christmas there was a quarrel between the deceased and Bruce—after that they did not go out together, so far as I know and the prisoner then used to call for her—he began to call for her on January. 11th. The day of my confinement and he called almost every night—I stayed in for a fortnight after the 11th—I heard them talking together—they seemed to be friendly—I did not hear my husband say anything to the prisoner about the blood on my sister's face, but he went down to his house—on the Wednesday before January 25th I saw the deceased and the prisoner together—they seemed to be friendly—on January 25th I saw the deceased about 5 p.m.—she was then wearing this greenish-coloured jacket—I had seen her bring home a parcel which she undone on my bed—I had never seen her wear that jacket before—on January 26th she went out about 3.30—she did not come home again that night and I never saw her again—she was wearing her best hat when she left—about 1 or 1.30 next day the prisoner came to my house—I opened the window, and he called out"Charlotte?"—I said, "No." and shook my head, I shut the window and went down to the door to him—he said, "Where is she?"—I said, "I do not know,
I thought she was staving with you and Cissie"—Cissie is the prisoner's sister, and she had previously stayed at their house—I said, "Did not you see her last night?"—he said, "No, I went to the World's Fair"—he did not say what the deceased had done on the Saturday night, or where she had been—he said she knocked at the door for him, and that his father, the old man, had said that he had gone to have a shave, and that she had said she would go for a walk round the houses and come back again—I said, "Well, she has not been home, it is funny; where did you get to to finish up your night?"—he said, "To the World's Fair; then I went home, and when I got home there was a fight with the old man and the landlord, and I took the old man's part, and he fought not like a man, but like a woman"—I said, "That accounts for the scratches on your face then?"—he said, "Yes, not only scratches on my face, but bumps all-over my head; I will be off now and back again to-night"—he had a scratch down each cheek—they were rather broad, and looked as if they had been bleeding—about 6 p.m. he came again, and said, "Has she come home?"—I said, "No; wait a minute"—I called my husband, and he and the prisoner went down the street together—about 8 p.m. the prisoner came again and said, "Aint she come home yet?"—I said, "No"—he asked me if I could lend him sixpence—I said I had not got it—he said, "Well, don't you come out in the rain; I will go up to the corner shop and get your errand"—he said he would be down at 1.30 p.m. next day, but he never came—I never saw him again till he was in custody—the deceased was taller than the prisoner—when the police were making inquiries I looked through my sister's boxes and found these letters, 4 and 5—(Read) "Miss Cheeseman, Just a line. On Monday evening I met the acquaintance of a young Lady who I admire much better than you; therefore you had better do the same, and think no more of me.
G. WOOLFE. and I hope you will take this as good-bye for good. P.S.—I hope I shall never hear of you or see you again as I am indeed thankful that I have got rid of you so easily.G. WOOLFE. I have got the date when I went to you, so if you find yourself in any trouble, or I mean in a certain condition it will be no good you trying to put the blame on me so forget me and never think any more of me.I pity the man that ever gets tied up to you but I am glad that I am free at last, and I have a chance now of being my old self again." "Dear Lottie, Excuse me but I write this letter to you to ask you if you will kindly meet me to-night and come for a stroll because I am broken-hearted and feel quite ill after all this time we have been together for us to part like this I don't think its right I know Lottie it's all my fault But I swear I'll be a different chap this has been a great lesson to me and I can see the fool I have been I have not treated you right I own but you said Wednesday night that you would forgive that letter and come out with me if I turned up Ted and I don't mean to ever be in Ted's company again I only ask you Lottie to take no notice of Bessie but for me and you to be together like we have been for just on two years you remember when you were out of work and had a black eye you asked me if I was going to turn you up and I turned round and said no Lottie If I was to turn you up I would do so when you're in work and alright,
not like you are now you say Ted has seen that letter but Lottie you have got only yourself to please you are 25 years of age and surely you have got a mind of your own don't let Ted or Annie know but be with me the same as you have for just on two years I shall go straight to Carlile's on Monday morning and be my old self again Now dear Lottie I will say good-bye but not for ever I shall be outside your firm to night at seven o'clock and for God's sake don't run away but come straight up and speak to me if you do mean it to be the last time."—I cannot read, but I could recognise my sister's writing if I saw it—No. 7 is in her writing.
Cross-examined. When my sister and the prisoner were walking out together I did not see much difference in their height—she was not quite so tall as I am—after my confinement they had no quarrel that I am aware of—she had given up Bruce then—she had not been going out with him and the prisoner at the same time—site had had a row with the prisoner—he appeared to be fond of her—I do not know if he talked about getting married, but she did—I was going to get some things to help them set up a home—I understood the marriage was to take place in three weeks or a month—I never spoke to him about it, nor to her in his presence—I only saw him when he came to fetch her—she never told me she was pregnant, and I don't believe she was—I do not know if the scratches on the prisoner's face were deep they were broad—a piece of skin had been removed on each side of his fac—I do not know that my sister ever went out with anybody besides Bruce and the prisoner.
By the COURT. The scratches were of the kind which he might have got in a fight where finger nails were used.
By the JURY. I spoke to the prisoner when he called from the first floor window—I could hear all he said.
DONALD GEORGE FREEMAN . I am a cigar manufacturer at the Falstaff Cigar Works, Hoxton—the deceased was employed by me, but I never saw her—on December 31st.I received this letter, and put a stamp with that date upon it—(Read) "Dear Sir,—Excuse me you have a young woman in your employ named Charlotte Cheeseman and I think it only right that you should be aware of her character I send this letter to you to inform you that she is in the habit of taking home cigars and quantities of tobacco-leaf and to let you know that she was discharged from Lipton's for stealing tea and she was also discharged from Salmon and Gluckstein's in Lever Street for stealing five cigars and before entering your employment she worked for an old lady in the Southgate Road but was only there five days on account of her thieving habits and drunkenness about six weeks ago she lost two days at your firm on account of having a black eye and these are her habits at every firm she works at, I am not sure at the quantity of cigars she has taken from your firm but tobacco leaf I have seen her with a pocketful I will only be too pleased to give you further information in regard to her character and so will the old lady she so cruelly wronged. Believe me yours truly Mr. Alfred Dixon 218 Southgate Road, Kingsland."—I tried to find out who "Alfred Dickson "was—I could not do so—I found there was no such place as 218, Southgate Road—I then went to the Shoreditch Police Station
and handed the letter to Detective Kenward—so far as I know the deceased was an honest girl, we had no reason to suspect her—I went to Salmon and Gluckstein's, and to Lipton's, and she had a good character there—she left my employment through slackness in trade—we only took her as an extra hand.
JOSEPH BRUCE I am a private in the 2nd Battalion Devonshire Regiment, at present stationed at Jersey—my parents live at 19, Henrietta House, Vincent Street, Shoreditch—T have been living with them for the last few months—I joined the Army on February 7th, 1900—I knew the deceased for about twelve months before that—I had been walking out with her, and had promised to marry her when I left the Army—I corresponded with her from time to time—I went to South Africa with my regiment—I was invalided home, and reached home on January 27th, 1901—I had a month at home and then went to Jersey—during the month at home I saw the deceased—in August, I got further furlough, and saw the deceased then every night for a week—I went to South Africa again in September, and was again sent home invalided, and arrived on December 19th—I lived with my parents again, and saw the deceased, and walked out with her up till the first Sunday in this year—I gave her a ring, an umbrella, and a fur boa—this (Produced.) is the umbrella—I appointed to meet her on January 4th—she did not keep the appointment—I met her on the Sunday—she said something to me, and in consequence of what she said I went with Edward Matthews and Charles Cheeseman to 20, Eagle Wharf Road—I saw the prisoner—I did not have any conversation with him, he shut the door and ran in—I went again on the Monday—I asked him what he meant by faying her, or hitting her, on Friday, January 3rd, as I was keeping company with her—he said he had been going with her for about two years and he handed me a letter—he seemed surprised when I told him I was keeping company with her—he said he had received this letter on the Friday morning—"Dear George I write these few lines to you hoping that you are quite well as it leaves me at present don't be offended of me writing this letter to you Dear George will you go out with me again as you no what you have done to me Dear George I don't mind waiting till you get your clothes out but you can speak to me when we see one another because you no how I am placed. Dear George I think it a shame how you have treated me but I will forget that and think of you all the more Dear George, you don't know how much I love you Dear George I hope you will excuse my writing my pen is blunt my ink is pale but my love for you will never fail Apples is ripe pears is better Dear George will you answer this letter I must now bring my letter to a close with fond love to you true love to you. Please send answer I remain yours truly Lottie Cheeseman."—I said that if anything was to come of it he would have to look after her, and I should have no more to do with her—no impropriety had ever taken place between us—when I said the prisoner must look after her, he did not say anything—I saw the
deceased that evening at her sister's place—I cut up the fur boa there I do not know where the ring is—I only saw her once again after that—that was in Old Street, in the dinner hour—I did not speak to her.
Cross-examined. I first met the deceased about three years ago in Shoreditch—she was with a friend, and I was with a friend—we went into a public house—I sent her money when I was away—I first knew she was going out with the prisoner on January 5th.
Re-examined. I sent her 10s. soon after I landed in South Africa, because she wrote and told me she was out of work and hard up.
By MR. HUTTON. I had written words to her similar to "My pen is blunt my ink is pale etc."
ALFRED JONES . I live at 44, St. Paul's Buildings. Allen Street, Goswell Road, and attend to a paper staining machine at Messrs. Carlile and Clegg's—the prisoner was a machine labourer there—he worked sometimes in one department and sometimes in another for about fifteen months up to January 20th—he spoke to me several times about the deceased between January 13th and 16th—he said he was in serious trouble with her—I asked him what the trouble was about, and he told me he had been giving her a good hiding, and that her brother and some more men were waiting outside the factory to give him one—he said she was six weeks gone and he would get shut of her—on January 16th he told me they had made up the quarrel, and on the 18th he said he had been to a music-hall with her the night before—he said I should see her at the corner of the street at one o'clock that day waiting for him, which I did—I had seen her the Monday previous waiting for him—this is a photograph of the girl I saw—on Monday, January 20th, he came to work, and told me that on Sunday night he had been looking for me, but not being able to find me him and his girl called at his uncle's, Mr. Symonds who keeps a public house in St. Luke's, that he told his uncle that he intended to get married, and his uncle told him that he would make him a handsome wedding present—I told him that getting married was the best thing he could do and that frequent quarreling would get him into trouble—he said he was going to take half-a-day's holiday, to have a ramble round the Lea—he did not say with the deceased—I told him if he did he would be discharged—he said he should have the half-day's holiday, and he did not care if he was discharged—he did not come back in the afternoon, and I never saw him again until the inquest.
Cross-examined. I spoke to the police first about this—about a fortnight after the murder they came to me—they first came to the factory, and I saw them in the office—I did not speak to them then—I knew what they had come about—I kept my counsel to myself then—the prisoner was not in custody at that time—I knew he was wanted—I did not say what had taken place, because I did not think it was my duty—I knew they had come about the prisoner but I did not know they had come about the murder—I did not hear of the murder till January 27th in the evening, when I read it in the paper—Detective Dickson came in the afternoon—he told me he had come about the murder on Tottenham Marshes—he told me the name of the girl—I did not know that she was the girl who had come to the factory till I saw her portrait—I knew the deceased's name before the
police came—it never struck me it was the same girl—I did not know what the police wanted the prisoner for—I asked, and heard that he was a deserter—I did not hear he was wanted for the murder till the Tuesday morning—I did not go to the police, because I was at work, and I could not afford to lose my time—I did go to them on the following Monday—I did not take a note of the conversation with the prisoner—nobody else was present—I did not tell the prisoner it was a cowardly thing to give her up—I said with her 18s. a week, and his 18s. a week they would be able to live very comfortably—when he said he was going to have half a day off, he said he was going down the Lea to get the booze out of him—he said he did not feel well through the drink.
GEORGE HEAP . I am foreman at Messrs. Carlile and Clegg's—the prisoner worked there up to raid-day on January 20th—he never came to work again—he did not present himself for re-engagement on January 27th.
Cross-examined. He was paid by the day—it was not necessary to give notice—he could not be re-engaged without seeing me—whether I should re-engage him would depend on why he left—he had been working for us for two years on and off—he drew his money for the half-day's work on Monday, on Saturday 25th.
Tuesday, April 15 th.
CISSY WOOLFE . I live at 67, East Road, Hoxton, with my father—up to the end of January I was living at 20, Eagle Wharf Road, with my father and brother, the prisoner—exhibits Nos. 4, 5, 17, and envelope 4a, are in my brother's writing—this jacket (Produced) is mine—on Saturday, January 25th, I was at my aunt's—I had the jacket in the morning—I saw the deceased in the course of that day at our house 28, Eagle Wharf Road, about 6.30 p.m.—she was wearing my jacket—I had given no permission to any one to part with the jacket, and I did not know it was gone—spoke to her about it, and after she had gone I found it was missing—at was the first time I had missed it—when she called at 6.30 my brother out—when he went out he said he was going to have a shave—he had gone out about half-an-hour before she called—during that week my other was away from work—on the Saturday, about 1.15 p.m., he told me he was going to start work on the following Monday—I knew where he was going to start work—he usually spent his Saturday evenings about the street or in public houses with the deceased—I remember a soldier named Monger calling at the house on Saturday afternoon, February 1st—I saw him first at the door about 7 p.m.—I called my father who spoke to him, I then Monger went away—my father put on his clothes then and ran.
Cross-examined. When the deceased came to our house on January 25th, told me she had bought the jacket that day—she did not say where—I had known her about two years—she was no friend of mine—before January 25th my brother had spoken to me about joining the Army—that was on the previous Wednesday—he had tried to join some time before that—he said he would join if he could not get work—I remember his going to get shaved—I did not see him the next morning—he was dressed his ordinary clothes—he was not excited or the worse for liquor—I
did not see him again until I saw him at Kingston, when he was arrested—I was not at home on the Sunday—my father did not wish him to join the Army—my father never said he would lock him up if he joined without his leave.
Re-examined. The deceased only slept at our house once—I do not remember anything happening on that occasion—it is within my knowledge that she and the prisoner had connection at another house—I left home on the Saturday evening about 9.30—up to that time the prisoner had not come back after having his shave—the photographs produced are of my brother—one of them shows him without a collar and with a scarf on, which is the way he usually went about.
By the JURY. As far as I know the prisoner did not have any money on the Friday night or Saturday morning.
WALTER CHARLES BAILEY , I am corresponding and pay clerk at Messrs. Carlile and Clegg's—I know the prisoner as a workman there—he came for his pay on January 25th and I paid him 7s. 9d.—I have nothing to do with the engaging or re-engaging of the men.
Cross-examined. I cannot say if he had come on the Monday whether he would have been engaged or not.
ELIZABETH SCHMIDLIN . I am the wife of Reginald James Schmidlin, and live at la, Avebury Street, Hoxton—Mrs. Matthews lives at No. 10, and her sister Charlotte lived with her—I knew the deceased, and have often spoken to her—I saw her twice in the Rosemary Branch public house, once about a week before the murder, and on the night of the murder—she was in the big public bar about 9 to a quarter past—she came into the bar where I was with the prisoner—I had seen them together in the same house about a week before—I spoke to her, but I do not know whether the prisoner heard what I said—he was close by—I asked her how her sister was—she said, "Nicely thank you"—I knew that her sister Mrs. Matthews had been confined a fortnight before—I stayed in the Rosemary Branch about ten minutes, and left the deceased and the prisoner there.
Cross-examined. I am in the habit of using the house, and go there several times a week—I had only seen the deceased there once about a week before—I was alone when she came in—I cannot say who was serving behind the bar, but there were others serving besides Dent, the barman—I think there were other people in the house, but I am not sure—if there were they could see into the bar where I was if they looked over the partition, but they could not see from the saloon bar—Saturday night is a busy night with people going out and coming in—I had been to no other public-house that night, and I had not seen the deceased and the prisoner anywhere else—I have never spoken to the prisoner in my life—when the police came to me I was unable to give a description of him, because I was not certain I should know him, having only seen him twice, nor could I give a description of how he was dressed—I did not recognise his photo, and I did not look at it particularly when the police showed it to me—I remember giving evidence at the inquest—I had seen the prisoner amongst other men before I gave my evidence—I did not say to the police, "I refuse to look at the photograph"—an inspector showed it to me and I said, "I do not
know whether I should know the man again"—after seeing the photograph I went to see if I could point out the man from amongst a number of others—the prisoner is the man I saw twice in the public-house—I identified him at once—I said before the Coroner that I took no particular notice of the man; I meant his clothes—the prisoner was dressed differently when I identified him.
Re-examined. I had a particular reason for going to the Rosemary Branch, which was to get some money from a gentleman—on the following Monday I heard of the body being found on Tottenham Marshes, and I spoke to Mrs. Matthews between ten and eleven on that morning—I do not think the body had been recognised then—I only looked at the photograph to please the police—I was not anxious to give evidence—the reason I did not look particularly at the photograph was because I did not want to be mixed up in the case—I saw a row of men at the Coroner's Court before he sat to hear evidence—there were about fourteen men, and. I was asked if I could pick out the man I saw in the Rosemary Branch—the man I saw was the prisoner—when I saw them there I do not think the girl was quite sober—she looked as if she had had a glass—I did not notice the man—I was in the Rosemary about ten minutes, when I finished my glass and went out—they came in while I was there—I cannot say how long they stayed there—altogether I was ten minutes in there before they came in, and I remained ten minutes longer, as far as I remember.
GILBERT HENRY DENT . I am a barman at the Rosemary Branch public-house, Southgate Road—it is about-500 yards, I think, from the tramway lines, but I have never measured it, I am only guessing—it is about two miuntes' walk—I knew the prisoner before January 25th as a customer for about four or five months—I also knew the deceased as a customer—I had seen them together in the house before January 25th—I never saw the prisoner come into the house alone, the deceased was always with him—they came in two or three times a week, sometimes more—I heard of the murder on Tottenham Marshes on the following Monday, I think—I saw the prisoner and the deceased in the Rosemary Branch on Saturday, January 25th, between 9 and 9.30 p.m.—they came in together, and I served them—the prisoner gave the order for two drinks—I can fix the time because I had not long come out from supper—I went to supper at 8.30, and came back to the bar about 8.50—I am quite sure about the time—they were in the public bar, which has two doors—I bow Mrs. Schmidlin—I saw her that Saturday night in the same bar—I do not know what time she came in, but it was while the prisoner and the deceased were there—there were other people in the bar—the prisoner and he deceased only had one drink—I do not know how long they stopped, but it was not long—the police came to me, and I made a statement to them on the following Thursday—I do not think I gave a description either of he man or woman—the police showed me a photo, which I did not at first recognise but afterwards I recognised it as a photo of the prisoner—it was he big photo that was shown me, No. 9, with the shirt and collar—No. 12, he one with the scarf, was never shown to me—I never saw it before, but now after looking at it I recognise it as the prisoner—the man in the bar
had a scarf on.I think, and no collar at Stoke Newington Police Station I picked the prisoner out from about a dozen other persons—they were in a row.
Cross-examined. There were three people serving in the bar when I came in after my supper, the potman, the head barman, and the governor—they would have the same opportunity as I had of seeing anyone who was in the public bar, if they were on the same side, as I was—they were all on duty on the Saturday night—I usually took the public bar, and the others would help if we were busy—Saturday is a busy night as a rule between nine and ten—the saloon bar is more select than the public bar, and the prices are higher—the prisoner and the deceased always came in at the same bar—they were not there the previous night, but I am sure they were there once that week, on the Tuesday or Wednesday—they usually came earlier, about 8.30—as a rule they remained there about the same length of time—I do not always go in to supper at the same time—I have no doubt whatever on the Saturday that they were in the bar sometime between 9 and 9.30—I did not see them go out—it would be about 9.15 when I last saw them—I am quite sure it was some minutes past nine—it was between ten minutes and a quarter past—I am not sure what day it was when Inspector Pearn came with the photo—I cannot be certain if it was Thursday, January 30th, but it was a Thursday—it way a week after I went to Stoke Newington to identify the prisoner—I had seen the photo a week before that—I was only shown one, which I did not at first recognise as the prisoner, but afterwards did—I could not recognise it at the first glance, although I had been seeing the prisoner three or four times a week—when I saw the photo the second time I think Inspector Martin was with Inspector Pearn—at Stoke Newington Police Court 1 picked out the prisoner—to the best of my belief on the Saturday the prisoner was wearing a scarf, but I am not quite sure.
Re-examined. I had a difficulty in recognising the big photo, with the shirt, tie and collar—in the other photo shown to me to-day the prisoner has different clothes on, but I have no difficulty in recognising him—I usually serve in both public bars—there were not many people in them at nine o'clock on that Saturday—the usual hour for supper is between 9 and 9.30, but on Saturday nights we go a little earlier—there is no fixed hour.
By the COURT. I know I did go to supper that Saturday night before nine and returned before nine.
WILLIAM ROBERT GREEK . I am a tram conductor employed by the North Metropolitan Tramways Company—I was on duty on Saturday night, January 25th, on a car travelling between Moorgate Street and Manor House, Finabury Park—that car passes over Rosemary Branch Bridge—the scheduled time at that point is about 8.55 for that journey—the scheduled time at the Manor House is 9.20 or 9.21, I cannot say to a minute—on that night we were running to time, and had nothing to delay us—we may vary a minute one way or the other, but not much more, unless something blocks the line—I remember somebody getting on the car at the Rosemary Branch—as we got near the top of the bridge a man
hailed the driver of the car and then me—the car eased up and the man jumped on—when the car stopped a woman jumped on—as the man got on I thought he looked under the influence of drink, and I was going to object to his getting on, but I did not—I did not take particular notice how the young woman was dressed—she had a broad-brimmed hat on—the hat produced appears to be about the same size—they went on the car to the Manor House, travelling outside, because it was full in—they occupied the first seat on the left as you get on the top—I went on the top several times before reaching Manor House—the thoroughfare Southgate Road is well lighted with electric light for nearly a mile—it was a clear night, cold, but not extra cold—on one occasion when I was on the top I noticed the young woman throw the knee apron off her knees and throw it over the next seat in front of her—the car was cleared at Manor House, but I did not see them get off—I observed that the man was dressed in a brown-coloured coat, with no overcoat on, and a small cloth peaked cap on his head—round his neck he had a coloured handkerchief and no collar—on Saturday, February 2nd, I was shown the photo (No. 10)—on February 25th I saw a row of about twenty-two men at the Coroner's Court, the same day that I gave my evidence, and I picked out the prisoner as the man I had seen on the car—I saw no photo of the prisoner between February 2nd and 25th.
Cross-examined. When I first saw the photo I was not at all sure of the man—a great number of the working men who go to and fro on our trams wear caps, I will not say half, and a great number wear scarves round their necks—a great many wear bowler hats—it is not unusual to see some with a scarf and cap, and a scarf and collar is not unusual—most of the men wear billycocks—I should describe the jacket the prisoner wore as a straight-cut jacket—I mean it comes to a corner, it is not rounded—his jacket looked brown to me, not grey—I am not well up in colours—I had never seen the man before that I am aware of—the prisoner was well enough to ride on the tram, although I believed he was under the influence of drink—that I could see before he got on the tram—I did not think he would create a disturbance—I did not take sufficient notice to say that the girl was drunk—there would be about four minutes' interval between the passing of my tram and the next one at the Rosemary Branch, mine could pass at 8.55, and the next 8.59—I should get to the Rosemary at 24 or 9.25—there is a printed list of the times on the cars—I have not been on the same car since to work it at night time.
Re-examined. On that particular day, I was working a relief, I had missed my own car—I was No. 12, but I was working No. 23, which I took four journeys—I have worked No. 2.3, but not at that time—I have been ken off at 7—my proper car was No. 12—I over-slept myself, and missed in the morning, and it was given to an odd man—I have not worked at relief since, but I have worked that car—another man does the late work I have looked at the jacket produced, and it is like what the prisoner on, in colour—I thought it was straight cut—his cap looked as light as cap produced—it is the same shape, it is a peak cap—I think the scarf produced which the prisoner had round his neck was lighter, and that
there was more colour in it—it did not look so dark—I knew it was not all one colour, but I thought there were more colours in it.
By the COURT. I did not think anything about it at the time—the reason I recollect it is, that on January 23rd, Thursday.I was summoned at the North London Police Court for over crowding, and on the Friday I had another day off and on the Saturday I missed my car and my relief—there was nothing to impress upon my mind what the exact colour of the scarf was—so with regard to the whole of the dress there was nothing specially to draw my attention to it, and it is my recollection as to what the man had on.
By the JURY. The prisoner paid the fares with a shilling, and received 9d. change—the fare was 1 1/2 d. each—I was approximately exact to time at the Rosemary Branch Bridge—it would not be a minute either way—I am sure I should not be a minute early, but more likely a minute late—I did not have a watch on me that night—on the Saturday night I picked up passengers the other side of the bridge—I only stopped a couple of minutes—the last tram car leaves Manor House for the Rosemary Bridge at 11—I was the last but one down, and left a few minutes to eleven—the length of the journey is about twenty-five minutes from Manor House to the Rosemary Branch—the police came to me at Clissold Park yard and asked if I remembered anybody getting on the car at Rosemary Branch Bridge, and then I gave a description of a man with a brown coat and cap—it was not suggested to me that the man wanted had a brown coat—it was after I gave the description I was shown the photos. I took up the man about twenty-eight or thirty yards from the Rosemary Branch public house, just on the bridge—we run along the Southgate Road and Brickford Place—Brunswick Place I do not know.
GILBERT HENRY DENT (Re-examined). I did say that the Rosemary Branch public-house was 500 yards from the nearest point of the tramway line but I never measured it—the public house is within sight of the bridge—it is the second corner from the tramway line—I am not prepared to say the tram conductor does not know the distance better than I do—if he says it is only 2:") yards and not 500 I do not suggest that it is 500—I may have made a mistake as I am not a judge of distance.
EDWARD WILCOCKS . I am a stableman employed at the Park Hotel, Tottenham—on Saturday, January 25th I was in the middle bar of the public-house—there were two people there when I entered, a young man and young woman—I remained in the bar with them about ten minutes—I left before they did—the young man was sitting on a chair with his head resting on his hand—he was on the right of the woman—I was standing on the right hand of the door, leaning on the bar in the corner by the partition facing them—the man was looking up at the woman—I did not hear them speak—I noticed the woman was sitting very still, and that she had a green coat and felt hat with a kind of feather in it, a light skirt and a black umbrella in her hand, with a green knob to it, I identify this umbrella (Produced) also the jacket and hat—I afterwards recognised the woman's body at the mortuary on the Tuesday following—the woman looked as if she had had sufficient to drink—as to the man, I cannot say—I did not
form any opinion about him as to drink—I did not take any stock of his clothes—on the Monday evening I was stopped by Detective Dickson about 7—I gave a description of the woman to the police, but not of the man—I think it was on the 7th—afterwards, I went to the Stoke Newington Police Court, where I saw about fourteen men in a row—I had been shown a photo before then on the Monday when Dickson came to me—the man looked much younger in that photo than in the one I saw afterwards—I did not recognise photo No. 9 at all—that was the one shown me before I went to pick out the man—I picked out the prisoner as resembling the man I saw in the Park Hotel that night—No. 12 is like the man I saw with a neck handkerchief crossed over under his braces—I know the Park Hotel well, and the partition which divides bar No. I from bar No. 2—there is a glass at the top partly frosty and partly clear, and you can see through the glass from one bar to the other so as to recognise people—it is a good square inch of clear glass all the way round the edge—I have always looked through the clear edge if I wanted to distinguish anybody.
Cross-examined. All I can say with regard to the man's dress is, that he was wearing a neck handkerchief, and no collar—I go by the man's face—I told Inspector Dickson when he showed me the photo, it was no use my looking at it because it was not the same sort of face I saw—I had a careful look at the face in the photo and I thought it was a much younger face than the man I saw, and at the time I did not think it was the same face—there was nobody with Dickson when he stopped me—I was in his company about ten minutes in the Park Hotel—I had never seen the prisoner before in my life—the landlord was not in-the bar but his daughter was serving—I cannot say how many were in the bar, perhaps three or four two people were serving—on a Saturday night, as a rule, there are three or four serving—that is the busiest night—the same person who served me might have served the prisoner and the girl—it is not always one person who serves a particular bar—the deceased led me to the conclusion that she had had enough to drink, because she looked very dull in the eyes, and from her general appearance—that was plain to anyone—I did not see her standing up or walking—I did not notice whether the man had had too much to drink.
CHARLES CLAPHAM . I am a jeweller's assistant—I remember on Saturday, January 25th, being outside the Park Hotel about 10.10 p.m.—I saw young woman standing at the main entrance alone—I went into bar No. 2 with a friend—I had been standing outside the Park Hotel speaking Fred Hannaford and another party named George, I do not know his other name, but he is over at Reed's Farm—the female was standing at the doorway—some remark was passed, and that caused me to look through partition—I saw the female come in followed by the prisoner—they stood for a couple of minutes with their backs to the glass partition, then went and sat down on chairs on the opposite side—the female looked it she had had a little too much to drink—she looked pleasant, like forced pleasantness, like forced happiness—the man who sat by the side her looked on the ground—he looked very cross and disagreeable—the woman who came in was the same woman I had seen outride—while the
man and woman were in the bar a man named Wilcocks, with spectacles on, went through—I did not notice him do any more than walk through—I know him by sight—there were several strangers going in and out of the same bar—the woman had a green jacket which buttons across and around felt hat at the back of her head—I identify the jacket and hat—I could not see whether she had an umbrella—I noticed the man had a brown peaked cap and a dark grey coat—that is my recollection—I cannot recognise the cap and coat produced, I noticed the faces more than the dress—I did not notice whether the man had a collar and tie on—Inspector Dickson first came to me about this matter on Tuesday, January 28th, about ten o'clock—I gave him a description as I was walking along with him—about February 8th I signed a statement at Stoke Newington Station, and I had been shown a photo about two days before that—photo No. 9 I said I thought looked like the prisoner at the bottom of the face but I could not recognise the other part—I was never shown photo No. 12, but looking at it now and the man in the dock I recognise it as the man—I went to Stoke Newington on February 8th, and saw about fifteen or sixteen men in a row and I picked out the prisoner as the young man who was with the young woman in the Park Hotel on the Saturday—Wilcocks was there at the same time—on Tuesday, January 28th, I identified the body of the young woman at the mortuary.
Cross-examined. I had already seen a photo when I went to pick out the man—the man George was not with me, but was passing by—I looked through the glass at the man and woman, and have no doubt the man was the prisoner—because of an observation made by George I particularly noticed the man and woman—George was outside, and stopped and looked at the woman—the prisoner was not with her at the time—Hannaford was there, too, and went into the house with me—he had the same opportunity of seeing them both as I had—four of us went to the police court to identify the man—they were Pavit, who has died since of small-pox, Harrington, Hannaford, and Wilcocks—Pavit picked the prisoner out—I cannot say who served behind the bar on the Saturday, but there would be three or four or two or three—two of the landlord's daughters were at the police station to identify the man, but could not do so—I went into the Park Hotel about 10.10 and left about 10.30—I have not the slightest doubt about the time I left, because I looked at the clock—I came out before the deceased and the man, and did not see them come out—I saw them preparing to go when I left, but how long they remained there afterwards I cannot say.
Re-examined. Hannaford was one of the persons at the police station for the purpose of identifying the man—Hannaford, Wilcocks, and myself left together, and we stood outside a few minutes—Hannaford made a statement in my hearing and in Wilcocks' hearing as to his part in the identification.
Mr. Muir said that there was a witness named Frederick Hannaford. On the depositions who he did not propose to call for the prosecution, as he did not believe he was telling the truth, but he would put him in the box for Counsel for the defence to nut any questions to him.
FREDERICK HANNAFORD (Cross-examined). I am a stable man at Reed's Farm—I remember being outside the Park Hotel on Saturday, January 25th, with Charles Clapham, about 10.20 p.m.—I saw a young man and woman coming from the station and go into the public-house in the fourale bar—they went in before me—Clapham and I saw them in the bar—Clapham left me in the house—the man and woman left at half-past ten—as they went out I went out—I made a statement to the police at Stoke Newington, which I signed—I saw two photos before seeing the prisoner there—the prisoner is not the man I saw in the Park Hotel with the young woman—when I made the statement I had never seen the prisoner before—neither he nor any of his freinds are friends of mine—I had never heard of him until the police came to me—no one has spoken to me about this case except the police—I went to the station to identify the man, but did not pick him out—when the couple left the public-house they went in the direction of the station first and afterwards came back—whether they went over the bridge I cannot say—I do not know the prisoner or any of his relatives—I never saw the man before—I gave evidence at the inquest and police court, and was taken there by the prosecution—no one on behalf of the defence has ever spoken to me.
By MR. MUIR. The jacket produced is the one the young woman wore—on the Tuesday after I had seen them in the public-house I made a statement to Detective Dickson, with whom I went to the mortuary and signed it—I was shown photo No. 12—I did not recognise it—this is the statement I signed on January 28th—there is my signature on the second page—it is true that I said, "I have seen the photo first of all of a woman which is identical with the one I saw in the public-house"—I did not say, "I have also seen the photo of the man which is identical with the man in company of the woman"—I did say, "I could pick the man out of 100 others"—I gave evidence before the Magistrate—I did not admit before the Magistrate that I had said that—I said, "The photo No. 12 produced is the photo I referred to when I made that statement," I meant the photo resembling the woman in the mortuary—the prisoner is not the man I saw—it is true that I said before the Magistrate, "I see that the two statements contradict each other, and I have no explanation to offer of the contradiction"—I gave a description of the man I saw at the hotel before I saw a photograph, that "The man was about 26 or 27 years of age, medium height, 5 feet 7 to 5 feet 7 1/2, dark moustache, rather squarecut face, had a very sullen look, dressed in light brown jacket, brown cap, it of fringe on forehead, and handkerchief tied in a knot"—before the Magistrate I said the man had a light moustache—when I went to the police station to identify the prisoner Inspector Pearn was there—I know Inspector Martin by sight—he was at Stoke Newington—after the identification the prisoner was taken to the cells away from the other men, who were in a row—I saw a man pick him out—I did not say while he was being taken to the cells to Inspector Pearn, in the presence of Inspector Martin, "I see he is the mm now, but I did not identify him with the others"—it is quite untrue—I have known Charles Clapham about two years, and we are quite friendly—I know Wilcocks, and am friendly with
him—outside the station at Stoke Newington I was with Clapham and Wilcocks—I did not say to them, "I thought it was the man, and I wish I had done the same as you have done," or anything like it—I saw Charles Clapham pick the prisoner out.
On Mr. Muir proposing to recall evidence to contradict the witness, Mr. Hutton objected, as he was a witness for the prosecution. His Lordship allowed the witness to be called.
CHARLES DICKSON (Detective-Inspector.) Hannaford made a statement to me on January 28th, which I reduced into writing—I read it over to him, and he read it and signed it—this is the statement—I showed him photo No. 12 on the 29th, after he gave me the description, and on the 29th he signed the statement.
Cross-examined. When I took the statement the man called George was present—I am not sure about another man standing in the doorway—I wrote down the statement at the police station and took it the next day for him to sign—the words are his—I took some notes.
JOHN MARTIN (Detective-Inspector.) I was present at Stoke Newington Station when Frederick Hannaford and others came to identify the prisoner—Hannaford did not pick anybody out—after all the persons had been called in to inspect the row of men they dispersed, and the prisoner was put in the cells—Hannaford was standing with Wilcocks, Dent, and another man—Hannaford said in my hearing, "I believe that is the man," or"I think that is the man," or words to that effect.
Cross-examined. That was after all the men had left—when the prisoner was placed with a number of others he said he could not point him out, and he did not pick him out, but when the prisoner was going to the cells he said words to the effect I mentioned—I made the remark, "It is no good now, you have failed to identify him."
CHARLES PEARN (Police Inspector). I was present at Stoke Newington Station when Hannaford and others were there to see whether they could identify the prisoner—after the identification was over, and the prisoner was being removed to the cells, I saw Hannaford there—he spoke to me alone, and said either"I am satisfied he is the man now" or"I am sure he is the man now"—I made no reply, because he had not looked at the men like anyone would have done, who was there for the purpose of identification—there were thirteen men with the prisoner standing in a line.
By the COURT. I brought Hannaford from the billiard-room into the yard, and when he arrived there he did not look at the men in a satisfactory way at all—he did not look at them as if he was willing to see if he could indentify the man.
Cross-examined. I did not tell him to look again when I was satisfied that he had not looked at them in a satisfactory way, nor did inspector Martin—we did not caution him, and tell him to look again—I did not consider it my duty to do so—when he made the observation "I think he is the man "he was standing in the yard—Inspector Martin was standing a little distance away—the thirteen or fourteen men were obtained out of the street—none of the men had beards, and they were all young—I should not like to say they all resembled the prisoner but they were of the same class,
and the same build—I should say it took a quarter of an hour to get the men.
Re-examined. Inspector Martin had charge with reference to the identification.
CHARLES CLAPHAM (Re-examined.) After the identification was over, and I was outside the station, I had already said that Hannaford made an observation to me and Wilcocks—he said, "It is the man, and I wish I had done as you have done."
Cross-examined. That is all he said—it never occurred to my mind to ask him what he meant—I have known Hannaford nearly two years as a respectable man.
EDWARD WILCOCKS (Re-examined.) I was outside the Stoke Newington Station after the identification with Hannaford and Clapham—Hannaford said, "I wish I had been of the same opinion as you were yourselves"—when we saw him inside the station, Clapham and myself had identified the prisoner before Hannaford saw him—I was present when Hannaford was examining the row of men, he did not identify the prisoner—he did not know I had identified him—I was first called out, Hannaford second, and Clapham after—after indentifying the prisoner, I stood in the back of the yard where the identification took place—I told Hannaford we identified the face as clearly as possible, as the one we saw that night—Inspector Dickson heard the remark of Hannaford.
Cross-examined. When he said that he wished he had been of the same opinion, Clapham was there and heard it—those were his exact words—of that I have not the least doubt.
CHARLES DICKSON (Re-examined) I was outside Stoke Newington Station with Wilcocks, Hannaford, and Clapham after the identification—I said to Hannaford, "I thought after the description you gave me of the man, you would be able to identify him"—he said, "I am of the same opinion as the others now, but I do not care about picking him out," or words to that effect.
Cross-examined. I made no report—he gave evidence for the prosecution notwithstanding that statement before the Coroner.
GEORGE THOMAS GILLINGHAM . I am officer to the Coroner who has jurisdiction at Tottenham—on February 18th I went with him to the Park Hotel—we went into the bar marked No. 2, between 7 and 8—the gas was lighted—the Coroner sat down in one of the chairs—I looked through the partition and could see very plainly.
FREDERICK CORNWALL . I am a signalman employed on the Great Eastern Railway—on the night of January 25th and morning of January 26th, I was on duty in the signal-box close by the Park Hotel, which is close to the bridge and which is shown on plan No. 2—between ten and eleven at night.I noticed four men crossing the bridge—my attention to them was not attracted in any way, I happened to be looking out of the window—besides the four men.I noticed a young man and woman who came from the Park Hotel side going towards the marshes—they were walking side by side slowly—it was between 10.20 and 10.30—I can fix the time because I had the 10.2 London mail pass, and a fast goods follows her—that is the
10.2 from Liverpool Street, and the 10.8 Spitalfields fast goods—the mail train passes my box at 10.24 or 25—the fast goods follows very closely down, and it passed soon after—it was while looking for the trains out of the window I saw the couple pass the bridge.
Cross-examined. Sometimes either train might be a minute or two late, but it is very rare—there is an official record which I book, but I have not got it with me—I heard of the murder when I went on duty on the Sunday night—the spot where it occurred is a little distance from the box—I cannot say when I was first spoken to about it—it was about a week after, I should think.
JAMES HOWE . I am an engine driver, employed on the Great Eastern Railway—on the night of January 25th I was engaged in the Park Station goods yard, shunting trucks—I had occasion to go to the w.c. in the shunters' cabin—I left my engine in the tank road—it was within two or three minutes of 10.30—I know the time, because I looked at my watch after I got off my engine—when I got to the shunters' cabin I saw two people on the marshes coming past the shunters' place, from the direction of the railway towards Tottenham Green—they were about 50 yards off—I did not take much notice of them—there was a man and woman, and the woman was the taller of the two—it was a bright moonlight night—our lights are not sufficient to throw a light on the marshes, so that I was depending on the moonlight—they were strolling along—I neither heard or saw anything more of them that night—I heard of the murder on Sunday night when an officer came to my house, and I told him what I had seen.
Cross-examined. They were strolling along side by side—I had seen another couple between eight and nine—the shunters' cabin is very nearly half a mile from the Park Hotel.
ERNEST SAPSFORD . I am a wire worker, and so is the prisoner's father—I lived with him in January last at 20, Eagle Wharf Road—I was the landlord and he was my lodger—the prisoner and his sister lived in the house—on the night of January 25th, shortly before midnight, I was at my door when I saw the prisoner about four or five minutes to twelve—he was coming up the street—I asked him to have a drink—the prisoner, his father, Fuggle my brother-in-law, and myself went to the Sir Robert Peel, which is about fifty yards away from my house—we reached the Sir Robert Peel just about closing time—we had a drink and came out again—they were closing as we came out, and nobody could get in—we were there about two minutes—outside we got into a bit of an argument—inside the public-house the prisoner's father was going to pay for another drink, and his son did not seem to like the idea—that caused the argument—we argued about it going up the street, and as it seemed to me to be getting a bit thick I struck the prisoner—I thought I might as well start as anybody else—I struck him with my closed first on the side of the face—we did a bit of sparing, and closed, and were pulled apart—while I was on the ground he scratched my eyes—I did not scratch him—I did not notice any marks on his face—I did not see him again until after he was arrested—I remember being in the Tiger public-house last Boxing Day in Avebury Street, Hoxton,
which is two or three streets off the prisoner's house—the prisoner was there with a man named Izant—I knew the deceased, but not intimately—I knew she and prisoner had been walking out, and that on the 26th they had a quarrel—I said to the prisoner."I am surprised you come so near after having a row with her"—he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a piece cut out of the middle of a file, sharpened at each end—it was a dull black colour—he put it in his pocket and said no more about it—he looked as much as to say, "While I have that I am all right"—I first gave information of this incident to the police last Sunday night—I drew a sketch of the file, and gave it to the inspector—I did not like to say anything about this before, as his father works for us—I have known him a long while, and have a certain amount of respect for him.
Cross-examined. I did tell the police I had heard a woman was going to be called to say I scratched his face when fighting, and that was why I would tell them everything—I had asked the prisoner to fight on the previous Thursday, but I do not exactly know what about—I am certain my hand was closed when I struck him on the Saturday—when fighting the prisoner said, "My name is Woolfe, and I will fight like a wolf"—my face was scratched—when at the Tiger on the 26th Izant and Fuggle were there—I do not think anybody else could hear what the prisoner said—I asked him if he was not frightened to come about there, as I heard the deceased's brother-in-law was going to thrash him for striking her—I have not seen the prisoner with the implement since.
Re-examined. I am certain it was the 26th, because it was the day after Christmas Day—I do not know Mrs. Turner.
FREDERICK IZANT . I am an electrician, living at 13, Stanmore Street, Caledonian Road—Ernest Sapsford is my brother-in-law—I remember being in the Tiger public-house with him and Fuggle and the prisoner on Boxing morning—I did not hear Sapsford say anything particular to the prisoner—I saw what I thought to be a piece of lead in the prisoner's hand three to four inches long and about one inch wide—after the girl had been murdered my brother-in-law said something to me about the incident in the Tiger—I cannot fix the date.
WILLIAM HERBERT FUGGLE . I am a hairdresser and brother-in-law of Ernest Sapsford, and live in the same house—I remember just after midnight on Saturday, January 25th, being near the Sir Robert Peel—I saw the fight between him and the prisoner—Sapsford hit him with his closed fist—the prisoner scratched him—I took Sapsford home and the prisoner's father pulled the prisoner away—I did not take any particular notice of the prisoner's face, and cannot say whether it was scratched.
Cross-examined. They were turning the lights out when we were in the public-house—I did not notice anything the matter then with the prisoner's face—he has spoken to me several times about joining the Army—we once went to a Yeomanry depot to enlist, but were too late—it was the Tuesday or Wednesday before the murder—nothing was said about the names we should enlist in.
By the JURY. When Sapsford and the prisoner struggled and fell, the prisoner was on top.
GEORGE WOOLFE ,Senior. I live at 20, Eagle Wharf Road with my daughter Cissy and my son George—I remember on Saturday, January 25th, being outside the Sir Robert Peel with my landlord and his brother-in-law—we met my son at five minutes to twelve—we had a drink—Sapsford and my son had a fight outside—Sapsford struck my son first on the jaw with his fist—my son clenched hold of him and they fell to the ground—I pulled my son off Sapsford—I did not see any scratching—I did not notice any scratches on my son's face that night—we slept together—next morning I saw a scratch down the right cheek—he said, "That is what Sapsford did last night"—he asked me to wake him on Monday morning at a quarter to six—he asked me for some halfpence for some breakfast—I gave him sixpence, and he started for work—he did not come home again—on the following Saturday I saw Monger at my door—I spoke to him and then put my boots on to go out to see my son—I went to the bottom of the street, but did not see him—the jacket produced is my daughter's, which my son took away—I asked him on the Sunday night what he had done with his sister's jacket—he said he had lent it to Lottie, and would get it again—he said he lent it to her to make her look more respectable, as she was such a sight in her old coat—I knew they had been keeping company—on the Saturday they were the best of friends—he spoke many times about marriage—the last time it was just before Christmas—I understood he meant with Lottie—the cap and scarf produced are my son's—he was wearing them and the jacket produced on the Saturday night and when he went out on the Monday morning.
Cross-examined. My son spoke of marrying the girl on more than one occasion—we went inside the public-house at five minutes to twelve—I was standing in front of him, and did not notice any scratches—in the fight I did not see any scratching done—my son fell on the top of Sapsford—I saw Mrs. Turner there, but did not notice her wipe my son's face—there was a mob round them—just before going into the public-house my son said he had been to the World's Fair—I noticed nothing extraordinary about him—he told his sister he was going to enlist, but not me—I did not want him to enlist.
Re-examined. He did not say who was with him at the World's Fair.
THOMAS MARSHALL . I am an engineer's labourer, living at 2, Parkfield Street, Islington—on January 27th I enlisted at St. George's Barracks between nine and ten in the morning in the Surrey Regiment, Militia Battalion—I saw the prisoner there about ten that morning—lie had just enlisted—in the evening about ten of us, including the prisoner, went to Kingston Barracks by train—I heard him give his name as Slater there—I asked him what the grease was on his waistcoat—ho told me he had been working at Smithfield Meat Market—he told me he lived in Eagle Wharf Road—I told him I lived close by the Angel, Islington—he said we should be able to go on pass together—I noticed at St. George's Barracks that he seemed very queer in himself—he would not talk.
Cross-examined. It was a cold wretched day—the prisoner had no overcoat on.
WILLIAM OXFORD . I am a sergeant in the East Surrey Regiment, 4th Battalion, and assistant storekeeper to the regiment stationed at Kingston—on January 28th I served the prisoner out with a uniform, and his civilian clothes were taken possession of by me—on February 6th I took away his uniform and gave him back the clothes I received on January 28th—he left the barracks on February 6th, on his arrest, wearing those clothes.
Cross-examined. Men do give false names when they enlist.
THOMAS COCKRANE . I am a corporal in the East Surrey Regiment, Kingston depot—I have charge of the work-room and library—the men, including lately-joined recruits, are at liberty to use the library, in which there are the daily papers for their use.
Cross-examined. There are at least 500 men—they do not all use the library—I never saw the prisoner there.
HENRY MONGER . I am a private in the Militia Battalion, East Surrey Regiment—I met the prisoner at the canteen at Kingston about January 30th and arranged to go to London with him on Saturday, February 1st—we left at a quarter past three in the afternoon—he took me to Eagle Wharf Road, and asked me to go to No. 20 and ask for Mr. Woolfe, whom he said was his father—he asked me to speak to him in a whisper, because he did not wish people in the house to hear—he gave as the reason he did not go himself that he had had a row in the house—he told me to tell Mr. Woolfe his son wanted to see him at the bottom of the street—I was in uniform—I told the father—I afterwards saw the prisoner at the bottom of the street, and told him his father was going to lock him up—he said, "Come on"—we walked away as sharp as we could to the Bank, and took the Tube to Shepherd's Bush, where my sister lives—we had tea there, and then went to my father's, 36, Claybrim Road, Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, where the prisoner stopped on the Saturday night—on the following Sunday morning, February 2nd, we had a Lloyd's Sunday paper—I said, "Look here, murder at Tottenham; you come from that way, don't you?" and I read the paper to him—that is the paper produced, and I read as far as the red line marked on it—(This gave an account of the finding of the body and of the identification.)
Wednesday, April 16th.
HENRY MONGER (Coutnued.) When I read the paper to him he turned round and said, "You don't think it is me, you don't think I am as bad as that, do you?"—I said, "Oh, no, don't you think that"—I spent the rest of the day in his company—I left him on Sunday night at Chiswick—when I got back to barracks on the Wednesday I was arrested and placed under military arrest—I did not see the prisoner before that.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not tell me his name was not Slater before I read the paper to him—he told me that on the Saturday night when I went to his father—he did not say he came from Tottenham, he said Islington.
Re-examined. When he asked me to go to his father's and ask for Mr. Woolfe I said, "I thought your name was Slater"—he said, "I am in the Army under any name."
guard room, and was identified by his sister—I arrested him—I had been looking for him since January 27th, and had been unable to find him—I said to him, "Is your name George Woolfe?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer from London, and I will take you back there on a charge of wilfully murdering Charlotte Cheeseman on Tottenham Marshes on the 25th of last month"—he said "I am innocent of it"—I took him to Stoke Newington police station where he was formally charged—I was not present when it was read over to him—I took a statement from Henry Monger—I first saw him on February 6th at Kingston Barracks—on March 1st I accompanied Chief Inspector Pearn from the Rosemary Branch to the scene of the murder—I did not take the time we left the Rosemary Branch, but we left the scene of the murder at 10.40 p.m., walked to the main road through Scotland Green, along and across the Carbuncle Brook—I took the tram there to Seven Sisters Corner, changed trams, and took another to the Canal Bridge, then walked through Canal Road to Eagle Wharf Road where I arrived at 11.47 p.m.—I walked sharply to the tram at Tottenham—No. 20, Eagle Wharf Road, is about three-quarters of the way along—on March 25th I left the scene of the murder at 10.00 p.m.—I went the same course, and arrived at 20, Eagle Wharf Road, at 11.57—on April 12th I entered a car at Scotland Green at 10.48 going in the direction of Seven Sisters corner—I passed the Bruce Grove railway station at 10.50 reached Seven Sisters corner at 10.59, changed cars, and left there at 11 p.m.—I arrived at the Canal Bridge at 11.34—I did not go to Eagle Wharf Road that day, but as it takes eleven minutes I could have got there at 11.45.
Cross-examined. The first time I did the journey we did not stay at the scene of the murder at all, we came back directly, and I arrived three minutes before the hour at Eagle Wharf Road—on the second I stayed at the ditch for two minutes and started to return at 10.40.
Re-examined. On the outward journey I went the whole way with Inspector Pearn, but on the return journey we went different ways to see which was the quicker route.
JOHN MARTIN (Detective Inspector.) On January 26th, about 3 p.m., I went to the dry ditch which was the scene of the murder—I examined the spot, and saw two patches of blood, one on the bank and the other at the bottom of the ditch—I saw no sign of blood outside the ditch—on February 6th, at 5.40 p.m., I saw the prisoner in custody—I told him he would be detained until next morning and I gave directions that all witnesses should be in attendance at Stoke Newington at 10 a.m. next day—they came to the station and were put into a room at the back of the station, and an officer was put in charge over them, and told not to allow communication with anybody—we then went into the street and got thirteen men resembling the prisoner as far as possible—they were taken into the yard and the prisoner brought from the cells—I said to him, "You are going to be put up now for identification, look at those men, and if you are satisfied you may stand amongst them, and, on the other hand, if you are not I will bring in as many men as you like in order that you should be satisfied to stand amongst them"—he looked at them, and I said "Are you satisfied"—he said, "Yes, Sir"—Chief Inspector
Pearn went to the room where the witnesses were, and brought them out one by one—I told the prisoner he could stand where he chose, and I think he stood fourth or fifth from one end—when the witnesses came in I said to each, "You are brought here to see if you can identify anybody, and if you see the man there please go to him and then touch him"—we never interfere with any witness after those directions are given, we stand at the back—first came two young ladies from the Park Hotel, then Dent then Wilcocks, they both picked him out—each time witnesses picked him out 1 told him he could change his position if he chose, and as they picked him out they stood on one side and were not taken back where they came from—after he had been identified he was taken back to the charge room and formally charged—he made no reply—On March 12th I went to Scotland Green—a tram car came along at 10.57 p.m.—it arrived at Bruce Grove at 10.59, and Seven Sisters Corner at 11.8—another tram was waiting there going in the direction of Stoke Newington and the Canal Bridge—it left at 11.10 and arrived at the Canal Bridge at 11.44—I did not walk up Eagle Wharf Road, but eleven minutes more would make it 11.55.
Cross-examined. The two ladies did not pick the prisoner out—Hannaford came after Wilcocks, then Clapham, that is all there were at that time—Pavitt was not there then, he came to the police station when there were about fifteen people—Grier picked the prisoner out at the Coroner's Court.
By the JURY. I do not know what time the last tram leaves Manor House on Saturday nights.
CHARLES PEARN (Re-examined.) The large plan showing the routes of the tramcars was prepared under my directions and is correct—on Monday, February 10th, I went round the route marked there—I started from the Rosemary Branch at 9 p.m., and went to Manor House and changed into another tram down Seven Sisters Road and along Tottenham High Road—I got out at the head of Park Lane, and walked to the Park Hotel which I reached at 10.5—without stopping, I went on across the footbridge down on to the Marsh and along the footpath—from the hotel to the ditch I walked at an ordinary pace and not at a quick pace—I reached the ditch at 10.15—I then proceeded along the Carbuncle ditch to Tottenham High Road at Scotland Green—it took me twelve minutes to walk from the ditch to Scotland Green—I waited two minutes for a tram, and I rode to Manor House and changed—I waited five minutes for a tram there and rode to Rosemary Branch Bridge, from where I had started, and walked to 20, Eagle Wharf Road where I arrived at 11.25—the journey from the ditch to Eagle Wharf Road took one hour and ten minutes—on Saturday, March 1st, I accompanied Sergeant McArthur on the outward journey—we started from the Rosemary Branch at 9.2 p.m., and reached the Park Hotel at 10.10—we left there at 10.30 and walked by the same route to the scene of the murder—we waited there two minutes—I left there at 11.42 and on that occasion it took me eleven minutes to get to Scotland Green—that did not include the two minutes' wait in the ditch—I walked pretty fast, but it was slippery that night—a tram was passing and I went by it to Manor House where I waited six
minutes—I got on another and rode to Highbury Tavern, Clissold Park—the tram did not go any further—I walked from there to 20, Eagle Wharf Road, where I arrived at 11.56—on March '25th started from the scene of the murder at 10.50 p.m., and walked by Scotland Green to Bruce Grove railway station in the High Road, Tottenham, where a tram came up and I rode to the bottom of West Green Road, Seven Sisters—I then took the train at Seven Sisters station at 11.13, and arrived at Bishopsgate Station,G.E.R y., at 11.33—I walked through Great Eastern Street, Pitfield Street, and New North Road to 20. Eagle Wharf Road, where I arrived at 11.52—that is the last journey I took.
Cross-examined. On the last journey the tram cost one penny and the train, second class fourpence—I do not think the train fare is seven-pence—on February 10th I did not stay at the scene of the murder—on the second occasion I stayed at the Park Hotel twenty minutes.
FRANCIS HANKS . I am chief inspector to the North Metropolitan Tramway Company—I have a schedule of the times cars run between Canal Bridge and Tottenham, and Rosemary Branch and Tottenham—Bruce Grove is about 1 1/2 minutes on the town side of Scotland Green—on Saturday, January 25th, there was a tram scheduled to leave Bruce Grove at 10.45 for Canal Bridge—that would reach Seven Sisters at 10.54—there is a tram scheduled to leave there at 10.58 reaching Canal Bridge at 11 32—then there is a tram leaving Bruce Grove at 10.59, Seven Sisters at 11.8—there are intermediate trams running every 4 or 5 minutes.—the next one leaves Seven Sisters at 11.10 and Canal Bridge at 11.44—the last tram from Manor House on Saturday nights is 11 p.m., but there is one at 11.10, which only goes as far as Clissold Park, it does not go to Rosemary Bridge.
JAMES BANKS . I am a ticket inspector in the employment of the North Metropolitan Tramway Company—on the night of January 25th I was on duty between Edmonton and the Manor House and Seven Sisters corner—at 11.11 I boarded car No. 524, which started from Seven Sisters corner—I went about 100 yards with it—it was going to Moorgate Street by Stamford Hill—it started one minute late—on that night the cars were running up to time.
FREDERICK LEMON . I am a conductor employed by the North Metropolitan Tramways Company—on the night of January 25th I was in charge of car 524—my schedule time for leaving Seven Sisters Road is 11.10—we left at 11.10 or 11.11, I cannot say exactly—it would take a minute to get of the terminus—we went as far as the Canal Bridge—as far as I know, we were up to time there.
WILLIAM GEORGE COLE . I am a conductor in the service of the North Metropolitan Tramways Company—on the night of January 25th I was on car 21—we were due to pass Bruce Grove at 10.59—we were running up to time, as far as I can recollect—we were due at Seven Sisters corner at 11.8.
Scotland Green about two minutes before that—we were scheduled to reach Seven Sisters at 10.59—so far as I can remember, we were running up to time.
JOHN WILLIAM COOPER . I am a conductor on the North Metropolitan Tramways Company—on January 25th I was in charge of a car due at Bruce Grove at 10.55, and at Seven Sisters Road at 11.4—we were running up to time that night.
F. CORNWALL (Re-examined by MR. HUTTON). The four men I saw going over the bridge were going down the steps as the man and woman I saw were coming up—they were all going in the same direction, and half the distance of the bridge apart—the men were in front—a train left Park Station at 11 p.m.
DR. WAINWRIGNT (Re-examined by THE JURY). When the probe went into the wound over the nose 3 1/2 inches, it went into a cavity which there is there—the wound tapped the cavity, the bone being fractured—I should say a healthy body retains warmth from 6 to 8 hours after the heart ceases to beat under normal conditions but, seeing it was such a cold night, I should have expected to find the body frozen or stiff—if she died at 12 o'clock, I should have expected to find the body stiff, but I do not think she did die then—I think that though unconscious she remained alive—I think she had been dead about 8 hours' when I saw her in spite of the frost—rigor mortis was beginning to set in—at the mortuary I ascertained that there was a little warmth in the body—that was about half an hour after she was first moved—her arms would not necessarily have gone back if she had fallen—they were resting on her chest.
By MR. MUIR. I did not test with a thermometer what the temperature of the body was—she was warmly clad, and her clothes fitted her tightly—I think that would affect the time of cooling.
The prisoner in his defence on oath said that the letter he showed to Bruce he had received from the deceased eighteen months ago, that he did not have any quarrel with her after he showed Bruce that letter; that he wrote the letter of August 13th to the deceased because they had had a row, and he thought she had been out with somebody else; that he made it up with her again afterwards; that he never thought she was pregnant, and was always given to understand she could not be; that he had only told Jones that he had been round his way the night before, and that he never said he believed she was pregnant, or that he was going to get "shut" of her; that on January 25th he was paid 7s. 6d. by Carlile and Clegg; that he then met the deceased, and they went to a pawn shop where she got out an umbrella which belonged to the prisoner's sister, for which he paid 2s. 0 1/2 d.; that they then went to his house and he smuggled the umbrella indoors and his sister's coat, which the deceased asked for, out, and which he was going to lend her; that they had a drink; that he left her at 2.30 and went home; that at 6 p.m. he met the deceased, who was wearing his sister's jacket and her own hat; that they went into the Rydon Arms and had a drink; that
they left and went towards Hoxton; that she wanted to go to the Britannia Theatre, but that he could not as he had only about 3s. 3d.; that he gave her 6 d. to buy a pair of stockings; that he left her outside the Prince of Wales public-house and went into a urinal at the corner of High Road, Hoxton, that when he came out she had gone; that he waited for 15minutes, but she did not come back and he never saw her again; that while they were talking she seemed anxious to leave him; that she was put out because he could not take her to the theatre; that when she left him he went and had a drink and then went to the World's Fair; that he got there about 8.15 and left at 11.25; that he did not see anybody there he knew; that he was alone the whole time; that when he left he went and had a drink at the Packton Arms; that he did not see anybody he knew there; that he then went to the Block Tavern and had a drink; that he did not see anybody he knew there; that he then went to his house; that his father was not at home; that he went into the Block Tavern again where he saw a man named Hughes, but did not speak to him as he was too drunk; that he stayed in the public house till 11.50,when he went back to his home, but as his father was still not at home, he went to the Sir Robert Peel, and looked in at the door; that he then went back home again and saw Sapsford and his father standing at the door; that they went with Fuggle to the Sir Robert Peel, and had some drink; that when they left, there were some words between him and Sapsford; that Sapsford hit him; they closed and fell to the ground; that when the fight was over he noticed that his face was bleeding; that he did not notice any scratches on Sapsford's face; that until the fight he had no marks on his own face; that he went to bed, and next day went to the deceased's house to get his sister's coat; that on Monday he left home at 6 a.m. to go to Carlile's, but enlisted instead; that he had been talking about doing so before then, and had been to the Yeomanry depot in Chancery Lane on the Wednesday previous; that he enlisted under the name of Slater, because he thought his father would be upset at his leaving home, and that when he went home on furlough he could have deserted, and the authorities would not know where he was; that he had not heard of the death of the deceased on the Monday; that he sent. Monger to his father's because he thought that if Sapsford had seen him there would have been a fight; that Monger came back and told him his father was going to lock him up, and that he thought that was for taking his sister's coat; that he did not run but walked away; that the first time he heard of the death of the deceased was when Monger read the account in the paper; that he did not then go home because he was too frightened, and thought it was too horrible that he should be suspected; that the file he had picked up, and had put into his pocket because he thought it would be handy, as there were a lot of lads in the beer house at the time; that it was only pointed at one end; that he took it home, and thought it was still there, as he had never handled it since. He admitted that he had had connection with the deceased, first about a year and nine months before, and from time to time afterwards; that he intended to marry her; that what he told Bruce about the letter from her was a lie, but that he told Brace he had received it on the Friday before, because he thought it would make him give her up; that Bruce did not say. "If anything comes of it you will have
to look after her ";that he denied striking the deceased in December, 1901, but had had a few words with her; that the letter to Messrs. Freeman about the deceased was false, and that he had signed it in a false name; that he wrote it because he was in a temper; and must have been drunk at the time; that it was untrue that he stayed in during the dinner hour at Carlile and Clegg's, because he was afraid to go out; that he did not know of any person who had seen him with the deceased during the half hour he was with her on the night of January 25th; that when he was at the World's Fair on Christmas Eve he saw a man named Long there, and nodded to him; that he had seen his cousin James Larner while he was in prison, but had not told him that he had seen Long at the World's Fair on January 25th, nor did he tell Larner to get Long as a witness to say he had seen him (the prisoner) there on January 25th, but that he had said he thought he had seen Long there because he saw a man wearing a fawn coat like Long's; that he had not told his father that Long was drinking with him in the Block House on January 25th, and he did not ask his father to get Long as a witness to prove it; that he had been in the Rosemary Branch with the deceased two or three times a week, but did not use the public bar on Saturdays; that he did not know the Park Hotel or the Tottenham Marshes; that he did not take a ramble by the Lea on January 30th, as he was indoors; that he did not tell Jones he was going to do so; that he was sober when he left the deceased on January 25th, and when he left the World's Fair, but that he was not sober when he went into the Sir Robert Peel with the others; that he did not know he had scratches on his face when he was walking away after the fight with Sapsford; that his father was very drunk that evening, and that he did not see any newspaper at the barracks, or any placards on his way there.
Evidence for the Defence.
FRANK HUGHES . I live at 26, Bracklyn Street, New North Road, and am a carman—I know the Block Tavern—I generally use it—on February 25th, I was there with my wife—I am quite sure of the date—I first heard of the murder on the Monday following the Saturday I was in the Block Tavern—I was there from 11.15 p.m. for twenty or twenty-five minutes—I do not think there were many people there—there was a friend with me as well as my wife.
Cross-examined. I was quite sober—I was not too drunk to be spoken to—I am generally there on Saturday night—if anybody wanted to find me they would come there for me—I have known the prisoner six or seven months, my wife knows him too—my friend Henry Cuthbert has seen him once in my company—I did not see him there.
ESTHER ELIZA TURNER . I live at 1, Avebury Street—I know the prisoner by sight—on the night of the fight I saw him and Sapsford in Eagle Wharf Road between 12.5 and 12.10 midnight—they were having a bit of a quarrel—I tried to part them, which I succeeded in doing—the prisoner's lace was scratched and bleeding—I wiped it with his handkerchief.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner's father—I only know him by
sight—he was not sober—the prisoner had had a drop but nothing to speak of—his face stopped bleeding a little when I wiped it.
Re-examined. I did not see him before the fight.
J. BRUCE (Re-examined.) I wrote the poetry to the deceased about two years ago when I first enlisted.
The Prisoner. "I can assure you, Sir, that I have committed no crime and certainly not such an atrocious crime as this to upset my poor father's home.I am innocent of it."
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, April 15th, 16th, and 17th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BODKIN and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted,MR. HUTTON and MR. FORDHAM appeared for Lewis MR. C. MATHEWS and MR. FULTON for Grosberger, and MR. CLARKE HALL and MR. MACOUN for Inger.
ARTHUR FOULKS . I live at 19, Montague Street, and am agent for the American Express Company, 8, Love Lane—they have another office at 3, Waterloo Place. Pall Mall, and the head European office is at 11, Rue Screed, Paris, and the head office at New York—they have eight or ten other offices throughout Europe—their business is issuing notes of credit, upon which a commission is charged—they are issued in America and at some of the offices in Europe—the name of the person who buys them should be put in the top corner at the time of issue, so as to give a specimen of his genuine signature, and before they are cashed they are signed by the same signature—if a note is payable to John Jones, he has to write his name on it—the identification is only that of the original holder—if a supposed John Jones comes and says, "I want £4 1s. 7d.," we should give it to him—we might require some identification, but this would be considered as an ordinary cheque—we compare the signature at the top with that at the bottom to see that they tally—every cheque bears a number in serial order in the right-hand corner—we never issue two cheques bearing the same number, there are no duplicates in existence—on Friday. April 26th, 1891, I was in charge of the cashier's department in Paris, and left about (6.15—I had the key in my possession—I locked up the safe before I left, leaving in it a number of unissued cheques—I returned on the morning of the 27th and found the police there—I saw no outer marks on the office, it must have been opened by a key—the safe was lying on its side on the floor—it had been burst open by putting some explosive into the keyhole—it was a good deal broken—I missed a number of the blank cheques—510 of them were for 20 dollars each—the numbers were 204135 to 204645—I have examined these twenty-two cheques—one figure in each has been altered. I cannot say whether by acid or by a knife
—there is no customer named Elias Bolles at the Paris branch to my knowledge, but I know that there is such a customer—our customers are mostly Americans—I do not generally have any intimation from New York of new customers—notes are sometimes made payable at the bank, and they pass them through—we circulated the numbers of the missing notes by wire and cable, and issued this pamphlet (Produced) to our foreign correspondents—these fourteen notes (Produced) are genuine, and have all been paid—each of them bears the number which appears on one of the twenty-two notes produced, and we never issue duplicates.
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. These notes can be transferred, but we should not cash them without the signature at the bottom—they were lost about a year ago—they only come into the hands of money-changers and bankers—the numbers have been skilfully altered, I do not think an ordinary man would notice it—if we know the name of the person who obtains them, it is not always possible to trace him unless his address is known.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. The cheques pass from hand to hand of a very few—it was not absolutely necessary that the twenty-two under suspicion should be dated—a stamp would probably be put on them at the time of cashing, it would depend upon what country they were cashed in—they charge ten centimes in Paris—the cash would be paid to the customer less a penny—this is the book of the American Express Company (Giving the regulations.)—you might have one of these books if we did not suspect you, and knew for what purpose it was wanted, but we do not distribute them regularly.
PERCY DAVID FERGUSON . I am chief cashier of the American Exchange Company's office, 3, Waterloo Place, which is open every week-day from nine to six, and on Saturdays from nine to two—the Rev. Edwin C. Boules is a customer—he lives at Boston, United States—I know him—he came to the office on July 22nd and made a communication to me, and again on the 23rd, when he signed this card and this piece of paper (produced)—we afterwards sent out a notification in which his name appeared—this note (2129071) bears the signature E. C. Boules at the top and bottom—that that was received by us in London, and has been paid—Mr. Boules, who called on me in July, was not one of the prisoners.
GEORGE ROBERT HIVES . I am manager of the White Swan, New Street, Covent Garden—I have known Inger five or six months—he is managing director of a company in Henrietta Street, about 200 yards from me—I have seen the other prisoners once only; they came there with Inger about the end of February—a few days before February 27th Inger had asked me to lend him £3 till the next morning, and gave me an American cheque similar to these in the name of Elias Rolles—I did so, and next morning he paid me a cheque for £4 2s. 6d.—he had owed me a small account for a day or two, which he added to the cheque, and I returned him the document—the cheque was returned from my bank dishonoured, but two or three days afterwards he came and took it up—it was drawn either on the Anglo-American or the North British which changed hands about that time.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. Inger satisfactorily explained why the cheque was returned.
Re-examined. He said that it came back because there was not sufficient money to meet it, and that he had not received a remittance which he expected.
ALEXANDER CHARLES PETTERSEN . I am cashier at the Royal British Bank, which was at one time the Anglo-American Bank—Inger has had an account there—this is a copy of it—it began on February 21st, 1902, and closed on March 19th, a little over three weeks—ten cheques were met and seventeen dishonoured—the the account was opened with £10 10s., and £22 was paid in—it was closed with a credit balance of 8s. 4d., of which we retain 5s. for charges, and there is 3s. 4d. left—I have known Inger about three years—the Anglo-American Bank has ceased to exist since 1897—on February 26th about 1 o'clock, I was going out of the office to lunch, and Inger came and said that a friend of his wanted to change some American Express notes—I said, "I can change them for him"'—I went outside with him and saw Lewis, who I had never seen before—he was introduced in the name of Lewis, and I said that if he would bring the notes before four o'clock I would change them—he did not say where he got them—our banking day comes to an end at four o'clock, and about five o'clock I was leaving the office and saw Inger outside—he said, "Come and have a drink"—I said, "I am late, I want to go home"—he said, "Lewis and his friend are at my office"—I think he said Crosby, and that Lewis was bringing the notes—I said, "Well, it is too late, I cannot change them now"—he said, "You go with me, you will meet him at my office"—we drove there and met Lewis and Crosby on the way—Crosby is the middle prisoner (Grosberger.)—I got out of the trap and said to Lewis, "If you have got the notes, I will go to Mr. Hands and get them changed"—he gave me a bundle of either twelve or twenty-two Anglo-American Express notes—I saw the top one going along—it had a name written at the top—I thought it was Crosby's name but now it is "Bolles "or "Rolles"—I cannot say whether it was "Elias Bolles"—I looked at the bottom of one and the name was the same as at the top—we went to Mr. Hands, but Inger stopped at the Duncannon—I think there was a gentleman with him, not one of the prisoners—I am a Swede—Mr. Hands looked at the notes—I came out and spoke to Lewis—he went in with me, and Mr. Hands asked him if the notes belonged to him—he said, "Yes"—Mr. Hands said that he could not change them at the moment, but should be able to do so in the morning—we then left—Lewis took the notes away, and I went back to Mr. Hands and stayed with him a few minutes—I went to the Duncannon and saw the three prisoners and the Frenchman—I said to Inger, "You bring the notes to-morrow and he will change them for you."
By the COURT. I was to have 2 1/2 per cent.—I knew that there was an office in Waterloo Place—I did not change them there because I had been there before—there was nothing unusual in the transaction—I said that my percentage was 1 or 1 1/4, and Inger made a note of it and made it 2 1/2; it was not 7 1/2—the only reason for my wishing to cash them instead of going
to the Express Company was that I wanted a new customer—I wanted to open an account—it was my suggestion—it did not come from either of the prisoners—I gave no intimation to either of them that I should not be at my office next day.
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. It is not always to the person who cashes the notes that they became negociable—when they were shown me on the 26th some were signed top and bottom, I cannot say all—when Mr. Hands declined to cash them at first I told Lewis that if he came next day I would cash them—I certainly wanted Lewis to open an account at my bank.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I said to Inger in the Duncannon, "If you come to-morrow morning I will see; "I did not say."I will ask if they are all right."
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. Inger was not present at the interview between me and Hands—I told him that if he brought the notes next morning he would get the money—I have known Inger since 1897 or 1898—his account was opened soon after the Royal British Bank started—he had previously had a small account at the Anglo-American—I think he was carrying on a prosperous business in Henrietta Street—he is a respectable man, as far as I know.
Re-examined. The account at the Royal British Bank was not Mr. Inger's—I did not keep the business account; they kept it at the Anglo-American Bank under another name—the small one I spoke of was his private account.
PHINEAS HANDS . I am a solicitor of 16, Strand—I know Mr. Pettersen—he brought people to my office changing notes—American Express notes are things we do not much touch but he came and showed me one—I did not like it, and would not have anything to do with it—he may have shown me a lot, but decidedly one—the name Elias something was on it—it was like these (Looking at the notes)—I think this is the one, 215708, it is very badly done—I think another man was with him, but cannot recognize either of the prisoners—I told Pettersen to take himself and his customer out of my place with the notes, but if he could bring a letter of identification I might think of it—I have no recollection whether he said that he would bring one or not—they did not come next morning—I have no recollection of seeing either of them again.
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. I do not know the name of Mr. Lewis—I have no recollection of speaking to Lewis, but I cannot be positive—I did not say it was not worth my while, and I would not do it.
OBED HOLT CAYGILL . I was director and manager of the Anglo-American Exchange, 3, Northumberland Avenue, in February last—part of our business was to exchange foreign money and notes—on Thurs-day, February 27th, Inger having sent a message called and said that he had a friend, who had a friend, who had some notes to change—he asked me to go to the Northumberland Arms with him—when there he said, "I want some of the commission"—our commission is 2 1/2 per cent.—he said he believed his people would consent to about 20 per cent.—I thought he misunderstood his position—he introduced me to Lewis at the Hotel
Victoria—he said, "This is the friend of my friend who has the notes"—I said, "I am pleased to meet him, I cannot give an opinion about the notes unless I see them"—he said, "My friend has them down at the Clarence"—I volunteered to go to the Clarence to see him, that is immediately behind Old Scotland Yard—Grosberger was introduced to me there as Mr. Schmidt—I asked to see the notes. Schmidt said to Lewis, "Oh, not here"—then they spoke in an undertone which I did not hear—Inger was alongside of me—coining back Schmidt gave Lewis a packet, and when Lewis came to me I saw three of the notes out of the packet—the packet was open in an envelope—they were twenty dollar notes of the American Express Company—I saw on the top of them "Ellias Rolles," and they were countersigned at the bottom—I said, "These are all right, there are not funds sufficient now in the office, but if you come to our office at 10.30 in the morning they can be changed"—Lewis said, "All right, I will be there"—they said they had twenty, and could bring £300 worth more so that I might get the cash to meet the demand—I gave Lewis the notes back at once, and he put them back in the same packet—something was said about Inger having a third of the commission and trying to earn £5—I walked back into the office—Inger said something at the second hearing at Bow Street about the notes being signed, which I do not recollect—I telegraphed to Inspector Froest, who was not in—I saw him the next morning at 9.50—I had come to the conclusion that there was something wrong—I afterwards saw Inspector Sexton at Bow Street—in consequence of what he said I put off the interview about three times during the day, twice by telephone and once by going to Inger's place at Henrietta Street,—acting under the Inspector's instructions, when I saw him in his office about noon, I said "I want time to get further money to be able to change the lot," and I invited him out to the Bedford Head, because I wanted to telephone to my office to say when I would be there, but Inger asked me to go into the Covent Garden Hotel basement where I saw Grosberger and Lewis at a table—I recognised but did not speak to them—Inger accompanied me to the Bedford Head in Maiden Lane, where I wanted to telephone—I saw Sexton, I did not speak to him, but carried out instructions by accompanying Inger into the street while he told me about the £300 worth of notes, and that they would come to my office as near four as possible—at four o'clock I was in my office—Lewis came in and made inquiries for passages and got the refusal of passages to New York by Cunard boats—the refusal means the right to take the berth up to a certain time—he produced twenty or twenty-two notes and wanted change to pay the hotel bill, and he said he would consult his wife at Bailey's Hotel, Kensington, as to the passages and come back in an hour and a-half, and eventually he was asked for identification from the issuing firm, and he said he would bring it with him—he had this envelope addressed on the counter, but it was not a letter of identification—I said, "I require a letter of identification issued by the Express Company"—he said that when he came back he would bring it—he said the passage was for himself, wife, and two children—he left—I saw Inger about an hour or three-quarters of an hour afterwards standing on the police way half way over the road
from our door to the Grand Hotel on the crossing, by a policeman—Inger said, "Have you seen anything of those men?"—I said, "Lewis has gone to his hotel, and says he will be back in an hour and a-half and take his passages. "
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. I was general manager last Friday—I am not a detective—I have assisted the police perhaps three times in my life—I am not manager now because the business has been sold—Lewis was introduced as Lewis and not as Rolles or Bolles—I said of the three notes, "These are in proper order"—I wanted this kind of thing stopped—that was the first time I had seen Lewis—the notes appeared right, and if brought to the office without anything being said I should have taken them, they appeared in proper order, and that is why I told him so—the surroundings excited my suspicion, and the manner, which were peculiar—in nineteen cases out of twenty notes are signed—in ninety-nine out of a hundred they are signed at the time of issue—I have known one or two being issued without being signed in the thirty-five years I have been in the business, but the question was put to me and I said I did not see except three signed—I presume they were signed—they must be countersigned with the same name as is on the top.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I have said, "Neither Inger nor I spoke to them there Inger and I left the Covent Garden Hotel first"—that is correct—I went with Inger and Lewis to the Clarence—Grosberger came perhaps two minutes afterwards—going by his face Lewis seemed surprised—the name of Schmidt might have been mentioned by Lewis, going to the Clarence.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I have known Inger a little over two years as an advertising agent in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden—I believed him to be respectable.
Re-examined. I had had a type-written notice as to notes which were in circulation—I noticed on the envelope "E. Elias"—Inger told me at one of the remands that the notes had been signed at his office.
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting—I have had seventeen years experience—I have compared documents in this case, including Inger's statement, also a registered envelope, and an unregistered envelope, both addressed to E. Rolles, 9, Hereford Road, Acton—both have gone through the post—one is undated, the other is dated May 6th and the postmarks are "February 26th, Bedford Street, Covent Garden, eight p.m."—they are the same writing undisguised—the envelope is written rather larger, but that is not uncommon—I have also compared the proved writing of Grosberger and the signatures "E. C. Bolles "on these cheques—they are not the same, nor is the counter signature—"Elias Rolles" has been altered from "E.C. Bolles"—the capitals E and C have been obliterated, and "lias "placed there, and the bottom of the B has been obliterated and a tail put to the R—the ink is a different colour in some cases, and in some the capital "C "is quite distinct—I do not think acid was used, but an ordinary sharp eraser—an ordinary acid would have made the colour run—the roughness is proved by the running of the ink—"E. C. Bolles "as it originally stood is written by the same
person who wrote "E. C. Bolles "on Exhibit 13—the bottom signatures are not in the same writing as the top signatures, but I believe they are nearly all in the same writing as the alteration in the top signatures—in the numbers commencing 2049354, the "9 "looked at carefully presents a blurred appearance, and sometimes the colour in the No. does not correspond exactly with the colour of the other figures—I have examined them all under a microscope—there has been an upright erasure, as if the figure had been "7 "and "9 "stamped over it, as "4 "would not occupy that position—the stroke is vertical—in the four cheques Nos. 2,129,096-7-8-9 the central 9 has been tampered with in a similar way—to the best of my belief it was a "7"—in No. 2,157,600 the first "5 "is blurred and I believe I can see the outline of a "2."
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. I am not quite certain with regard, to one or two of the bottom signatures—it may not be the same writing as the others, or as the alteration—the bulk are altered in the same hand—clumsy forgeries are sometimes successful, because cashiers have not time to look carefully at the signatures.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I identify them as Inger's ordinary writing.
CORNELIUS SEXTON (Deductive Inspector.) On February 28th, Caygill called upon me at Bow Street—after a conversation with him I went to the Bedford Head public-house, Maiden Lane—Caygill and Inger came in together—they remained about twenty minutes—they called for refreshments and went to the far end of the bar—when they left I followed them along Maiden Lane and Southampton Street—Lewis and Grosberger joined them at the corner of Southampton Street and the Strand, and they went as far as the post office—I went on the south side of the Strand, where Caygill joined me by appointment—at four o'clock I was waiting in Caygill's—Biggs was in the street—I was standing on the stairs immediately beneath the counter, where I could hear any conversation—I saw Lewis come in and speak to a clerk behind the counter—Caygill got up from his desk at the far end of the room, and went to him—Lewis wished to book berths for his wife and two children for America—after five minutes I came to a small screen and stood near—Lewis took advertisements from the desk, and perused them, when I heard Caygill ask for the notes—Lewis produced them, and said "Here are twenty"—I stood a little back, and saw they were American Express notes—Lewis was asked to return in about an hour's time—he went out—I followed him along Northumberland Avenue towards Charing Cross, where he joined Grosberger, who was at the corner coming towards them—seeing Biggs following Grosberger, I gave the signal to Biggs to arrest him and at the same time arrested Lewis—I said, "I am a police officer, and have reason to believe that you have certain forged and stolen notes of the American Express Company in your possession"—Lewis said, "All right, I have got them, do not make a fuss in the street"—I said "No. you must produce them, or I shall search you"—he then produced the pocket-book which I opened, and found these twenty-two notes—Grosberger said, "I have got none, you can search me"—I told them they must consider themselves in custody upon
the charge of having in their possession forged notes, stolen outside the United Kingdom, and that I should take them to Great Scotland Yard—I took them to the temporary police office there—they were formally charged—they made no reply—I searched Lewis—in the pocket-book which I carefully examined afterwards were the two registered letters addressed to E. Rolles, Esq., 9, Hereford Road, Acton, and a passport in the name of Lewis vise at different places in Germany, ten pawn duplicates, and some memoranda—they were put in the cells—I got a message from Grosberger about an hour afterwards, in consequence of which I went to see him—he said, "Look here, I know you are straight about the 300 quids worth, I can tell you that it was only planned to get eighty quids, you have the lot now, there is no more flying about."—the next morning they were taken before the Magistrate at Bow Street, and remanded for seven days on evidence of arrest—after the police court proceedings on Saturday, March 1st, I met Inger in Bedford Street, Covent Garden—I addressed him as Inger—I said, "I am Inspector Sexton," and pointing to Biggs, "This is Sergeant Biggs; as I saw you in the company of Lewis and Grosberger, whom I arrested yesterday, I want you to explain your connection with them, but I must advise you at once that I will make a note of what you say, and it will greatly depend upon your statement, if you make one, whether I charge you with being concerned or not."
MR. HALL objected tothis evidence, as what was said was under a threat or inducement. (See Archbold, p. 307, Reg.v. Thompson, 23 Court of Crown Cases Reserved.)
(THE COURT here adjourned to the next day, when THE RECORDER ruled that the words "It will depend upon your statement whether you are charged or not" rendered the statement inadmissable.)—Inger made a statement which I took down—he asked me to accompany him to the White Swan, New Street, Covent Garden, kept by Mr. Hives—I did not see Mr. Jones—I parted with Inger at the door, and said, I will call on you again on Monday, I hope you will be a little cooler"—he was in great excitement—I called at his office on the Monday about 11 a.m., 6, Henrietta Street, and said, "I do hope Mr. Inger that you are a little more collected to-day, than you were on Saturday; it is only fair to you that I should give you an opportunity of making a clear statement to me, but bear in mind it will be on the same conditions as I mentioned on Saturday"—he said, "It is all right"—(THE RECORDER considered that this evidence should not be given, but on Mr. BODKIN stating that the answer was not an admission or confession, permitted the answer to be given.)—he said, "It is all right, it has worried me very much, I have got it all written out for you, everything is in this statement," handing me this written statement (Produced.)—I read it aloud to him—I had a conversation with him afterwards on April 2nd, and a warrant was issued for his arrest—I had seen him in the interval twice at the police court, on the two remands of the other prisoners on March 6th and 13th, but had no conversation with him, I only told him he need not wait longer or something to that effect—he attended there by my advice—on April 2nd I went with a warrant to his office at 5.45—he said, "Hallo, Mr. Inspector, I hope you are not going to call me tomorrow
as I am so awfully busy"—the case was adjourned to April 3rd, and I had asked him to come on that day—I asked him to come on one side—he took me up stairs, and I said, "You must consider yourself in my custody on a warrant for unlawfully conspiring with the others to utter forged orders"—I read it to him—he replied, "Good God, do you really mean it? You know, Mr. Inspector, I have told you the truth when you saw me; I have given it to you in writing"—I took him to the station—some thirty yards from the office he said, "The statement I have given you is only a copy; will you permit me to return and get the original, which is in my own writing"—we went back to No. 6, and from a desk on the ground floor he took this envelope, containing the statement I now produce, and handed it to me—I took him to Scotland Yard, where he took from his pocket two circulars, and said, "There are two balance-sheets of the Royal British Bank, received by me, and they will show I had an account there, and that is why I went to Mr. Pettersen's; I want that produced in Court "'—I said, "This is no balance-sheet, it is only a circular"'—he asked for bail—I said, that it was on a warrant—he said, "I will go into the witness-box and tell the whole truth, the same as you have it in my statement—"I found in Lewis's pocket ten pawn-tickets, twenty-two cheques, the subject of this charge, and some memoranda.
MR. BODKIN submitted that the prisoner was not under any threat or persuasion whatever, as the officer was only making inquiries, and it was his duty to listen to what the man said, and if that was held to be an inducement the embarrassment of officers would be very considerably increased, and that the statement was admissible.
THE RECORDER. "Officers have to make inquiries, and they are obliged to give opportunities to a man of saying anything; but if a man said, "I shall give you an opportunity of making a statement on the same terms as I mentioned on Saturday." it is impossible to say how far the prisoner was affected by that, therefore I am of opinion that the statement is not admissible."
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. When I first heard from Caygill I did not tell him to say to Lewis that the notes were all right, he said it entirely on his own responsibility—I did not tell him to say to Lewis that the notes must be signed top and bottom—I did not give him any directions for Lewis to do anything with the notes—his actions were not guided by me only the laying of the trap—the arrest was in Northumberland Avenue about 4 p.m.—there were not half a dozen people at that point—the arrest did not cause people to come up—there were several, but they did not know what was going on, they did not know he was in custody—he said, "Don't make a fuss"—I took hold of his arm—the majority of the pawn tickets were in the name of Lewis—I returned them by the Magistrate's order.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. When I put my hand on Lewis Grosberger was not half a yard from him—he was not in the carriage-way leading to Trafalgar Square—it was about two hours after the arrest that I had a conversation with Grosberger—he was in a cell at Great Scotland Yard—it was communicated to me that he desired to have a friend there, and I went to his cell with Inspector Fraser, in uniform,
and Sergeant Bell—I said, "What is it you want 1"—he said that he wanted to be allowed to communicate with his friends—I did not say, "I cannot allow you, I have not completed my inquiries"—he was allowed to do so—I did not say, '-' Can you tell me anything about the rest of the £300?" nor did he answer that he had not had any of it—he handed me a key and said, "This is the key of the box, but my wife has just come out of hospital, and if you go there she is sure to drop down dead"—I knew that to be the fact, and did not go—I did not leave the cell door—just as the conversation terminated the solicitor arrived—I did not leave the cell door with the Inspector and afterwards return by myself—the cell door is the desk upon which I made a note as the prisoner said it—I did not make it at the cell gate, but two or three yards away at a desk—I I did not take the statement down as he made it, but a short distance off, outside the cell.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I spoke to Inger first on Saturday, March 1st, because I had seen him with the other two men—they were arrested on February 28th, and Inger on April 2nd—there were five remands, which Inger attended by my advice, with the object absolutely of being called as a witness—he told me everything fairly and frankly—when he took me up to his office on March 1st a gentleman came in—that is he [Mr. Scarborough.] I believe—Inger was so excited that I do not know what he said—he did not say, "This gentleman has come to see me about Lewis and Grosberger"—I did not say to him, "Mr. Inger is a lucky man, I came here to arrest him, but being satisfied with what he says I intend to call him as a witness," nothing like it—when I went there on April 2nd I saw a number of people on the ground floor, and asked him to go into a private room—he was very excited—his condition was that of a man who was absolutely surprised—when he asked to go back he did not say that he wanted to hand the statement to the solicitor, he said, "In his defence"—I handed a copy of the statement to his solicitor—he telephoned for him from his office to the Haymarket.
Re-examined. I was at Inger's office a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes on March 1st—while I put the questions to him Sergeant Bell put down his answers—we three were alone in the room—Mr. Scarborough did not come in till the very end of the interview, it was really his presence that brought our interview to a close—no questions were put after Mr. Scarborough was in the room—I was introduced to Mr. Scarborough as a friend of his, but he was so excited that he could not get out his name—Scarborough was in the room with us two minutes at the very outside—I said nothing to him about Inger being a lucky man—he said, "How do you do?" and shook hands with me—the pawn-tickets I found on Lewis were all within ten months—the six or seven on Grosberger were taken possession of by the sergeant.
SIDNEY BEX (Police Sergeant.) I was with Inspector Sexton on February 28th in Northumberland Avenue, and arrested Grosberger by his instructions—Sexton told him the charge—he said, "You can search me, governor, I have got none on me"—he was taken to Scotland Yard, where I searched him, and found this little book of the American Company,
two letters of John Lewis, 9, Hereford Road, Acton.a telegram to the same address, and about half a dozen pawn tickets, all within the last twelve months, which were handed back by the Magistrate's order—I was with Sexton at Inger's office on March 6th—I have been in Court this morning—there is no truth in the statement that Sexton said "Mr. Inger is a lucky man; I came here to arrest him, but being satisfied with what he says I intend to call him as a witness"—Sexton has given a correct account of what passed.
Cross-examined by MR. FORDHAM. The two letters addressed to Lewis were in his overcoat.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. Lewis and Grosberger were close together, touching each other, and we arrested both together.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I was with Sexton when he spoke to Inger in the street—I did not hear Inger suggest anything that passed at the interview—I had been in the room about a quarter of an hour when Scarborough came in—I believe Sexton shook hands with him, I can't remember—there was no conversation between them—I heard Inger say. "These two gentlemen have come to inquire about Lewis and Grosberger"—we went from there to a public-house and had some refreshment.
Lewis, in his defence, stated upon oath that he was a traveller, and had known Grosberger about three years, but had not seen him for fifteen months; that he met him in Holborn and said that a friend of his at a gambling club had won some Express notes, which, although they might be stopped at the place of issue by the loser on account of the row at the club in the hands of a recent holder the money was to be obtained, and asked him if he could do it or find some one who would: that he said he could not do either, and they parted, but that on February 24th a friend of Grosberger's introduced Mr. Pettersen, who promised to change the notes on Monday morning, as it was too late then, but that Inger took them to Mr. Hands, who refused, and gave back the notes, and Pettersen again promised to change them on Monday, and said that anybody could sign them as they were then blank, top and bottom; that Inger then changed one note at Mr. Hive's, and Inger went to the post office, and next morning he (Lewis) received a letter addressed E. Rolles, 9, Hereford Road, Acton, and on that day Inger introduced him to Caygill as "My friend, Mr. Smith," in a jocular manner; that Caygill looked at the notes and said, "These are all in order" and that anybody could sign them; that some were signed Elias Rolles and some were unsigned; that he went to Inger's office next day, who asked him to call later as Caygill had not got the money ready, and directed him to go to the Express office and ask for a passage for America as an indication to Caygill that he was the person who had come about the notes but nothing was done then; that he called at the office again on the Friday, and Inger told him that he had seen the notes and to go upstairs and sign the notes which were in blank, which he did, and Inger came up and blotted them as he signed them; that he took them to Caygill's office about 3.45 and as his coat was very shabby it was suggested that he should change coats with Grosberger and when they re-changed coats the next day there were four letters in his pocket; that when he asked the price of a passage to America at
the office Caygill was at the entrance, and said, "I will attend to this gentleman," and asked for a letter of identification which he had not got, and that it was not true that he showed him a letter with "Rolles "upon it; that somebody in his house signed the registered letter, and there was nothing inside it, and that another letter came next day in the same name with nothing in it; that he could not explain why Inger should write to him as E. Rolles, except to get him to personate Rolles, but he did not do so, and did not produce the envelopes: that he wrote the letters "as" after "E" on the notes as he thought he had a right to do so, and wrote the bottom signatures himself all except two, but did not try to imitate the top signatures, though one of them looked the same. (Signing his name, by the direction of the Court.); that he did not tell Caygill he could bring him £300 worth of the notes, or said anything about £300, which was a pure invention, and that his interest in the matter was only the obtaining of £5,and he did not throw any blame upon Inger, believing the notes were obtained in gambling.
Grosberger, in his defence, stated upon oath that he heard of these notes from a Frenchman who was generally known as "Frenchy," who managed several clubs, and who said that he got the notes in gambling, and asked him to get them passed through a bank, otherwise they might be stopped; that about February 25th he saw Inger at the Duncannon, who asked him to fetch the notes; that he went to Frenchy, who handed him twelve of the notes, and then waited with Frenchy at the Duncannon, that Inger came first, then Lewis, and then Pettersen who he did not know, and who examined the notes and told Inger to come to-morrow, the notes remaining in Frenchy's possession; that on Thursday he went with Frenchy to the Clarence public-house where Lewis and Caygill were, and handed the twelve notes to Lewis; that Caygill examined them said that they were all right and handed them back to him; that on the Friday morning he met Inger with another man and Frenchy; that he waited in the basement of the hotel in Covent Garden with Frenchy who had the notes and ten more, making twenty-two, and gave them to him, which was the first time he saw the whole twenty-two together; that he gave them to Lewis, who took them to Inger' office, that they met again at the Bodega in Bedford Street, and Lewis went inside Mr. Caygill's office while he waited outside, and when Lewis came out Lewis and he were arrested; that he did not go to the American Exchange office with the notes because they might have been stopped; that he never said to Sexton," 300 quid is only a blind to get 80quid," and never noticed that the numbers had been altered or scratched out, or that the bottom signatures were different from the lop.
Inger, in his defence, stated upon oath that Lewis, who he had known about two years, called on him and said that a friend of his had some American notes, and asked him to introduce him to Mr. Pettersen for the purpose of changing them; that he kept his private banking account at Pattersen's and went there with Lewis next day, and Pettersen asked for the notes, and while Lewis went to fetch them he and Pettersen lunched together and arranged to divide the profit, 2 1/2 per cent.; that he saw Lewis again at five o'clock, who said that he had been to Mr. Hands, a money changer; that while Pettersen was away they saw Grosberger, who said,
"My friend who has these notes has got about £300 worth;" that he knew Grosberger as "Rex," but he was introduced to Caygill as Smith next day, but not by him; that Pettersen said, "I will go and see Mr. Hands myself." and it was not at his suggestion, and Pettersen came back and said, "Hands will do it in the morning, but he wants a letter of identification"; I think Pettersen said that he would take the notes round to the Express office and tax them; that he had not seen the notes then, they might have been greenbacks; that Lewis asked for a little money; that he took one note to Mr. Hide about 7.30 p.m., who let him have £3 on it out of £4 3s.7 d., and he gave Lewis £1 13s.; that Grosberger said in the post office "Write a letter to Mr. Rolles, 9, Hereford Road, Acton," but he (Inger) insisted on writing it himself, which he did, and spelt the name "Rolls," and Grosberger said, "You have spelt the name wrong, it is 'Rolles '"; it was to make an appointment for 10.30,bat Grosberger said that it was no use posting them, and it was not true that he (Inger) posted them, but that Grosberger did so; that he never asked if they had got a letter of identification, as he naturally expected a person would be there with it; that the next morning Lewis came to his office and sat down at his desk and signed the notes at the top and some at the bottom, and he (Inger) told Caygill so, and there was no attempt at concealment, and he did not even know that notes were signed top and bottom; that Caygill said he thought he should be able to get the whole £300,and arranged to meet him at the Count Garden Hotel; that Lewis asked him for his pocket book to put the notes in as the envelope was very much torn, which he lent him, and asked for 25 per cent out of the commission, and expected to make £5 out of it; that later on Lewis showed him a cheque for £200, and said, "It is all right now" and they went to the Bedford Head, where Caygill said he was going to cash the cheque, and they went out and met him, and he said he was going to get a letter of identification; that he went back to his office and did not know till the next morning that they were locked up, and that he attended all the hearings at the police-court but one, at the Inspector's suggestion, who said he was going to call him as a witness; he denied knowing Frenchy, but said that a friend of his, a Dane, who spoke French, an electrical engineer, was with him in the Dun-cannon, that what Grosberger had said about his (Inger's) writing the two envelopes was entirely untrue; that there was not a syllable in the two documents which he handed to Sexton, which he wished to alter, and he had no objection to them being read as they were in substance what he had already said.—The RECORDER then admitted the statements and they were put in and read.
GUILTY . (Grosberger and Inger received good characters.) Inger had been convicted in 1886 of obtaining money by false pretences.
LEWIS— Eighteen months' hard labour.
GROSBERGER— Five years' penal servitude.
INGER— Ten months' hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, April 15 th, 1902.
Before A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
333. JOHN THOMAS LONSDALE (24) and FREDERICK WILLIAM DAVIES (22) , stealing a uniform case an overcoat, an order for £5, and other articles, forty-one blank cheques, and £15, the property of Frank Barlow. A necessary witness being too ill to appear, and the prisoners demanding to be tried, MR. BIGGS for the prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY . They were also indicted for stealing two bicycles. No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 17th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. MURPHY Prosecuted, and MR. COHEN Defended.
ANNA FRANK . I am the wife of Max Frank, of St. Margaret's House, Felham Road, Ashford, two miles from Staines—I engaged the prisoner and Mrs. Dowd, who I knew as Mrs. Sharratt, as caretakers when I went away in November—I had employed her as a charwoman before—I returned on March 17th—I first saw the prisoner on October 29th or 30th—when I went away Mrs. Dowd asked me if I minded her husband sleeping there, and I said no—this gun (Produced) is mine—I left it upstairs in my dressing room, unloaded, when I left home, and these cartridges under my wardrobe drawer—I understand the mechanism of the gun; you have to press this safety lever before you can fire it.
Cross-examined. I have not used the gun lately—I last used it about two years ago, my lather bought the cartridges—I have paid the prisoner for any work he has done—I have no complaint to make against him—I wrote a letter from the Continent asking him not to allow any stranger in while I was away.
Re-examined. I should have considered any relative of Mrs. Dowd a stranger.
JOHN STILLWELL . I live at 426, Rotherhithe Street, Rotherhithe, and am a box maker—I have known the prisoner about five years—we have been on friendly terms—I am Mrs. Dowd's brother-in-law—on Saturday, March 15th, I was in the Noah's Ark at Rotherhithe about 2.30 p.m., when Mrs. Dowd came in—I returned with her that evening to Ashford—we got there somewhere near 8 p.m.—the prisoner opened the gate of St. Margaret's—he said something to Mrs. Dowd—he said nothing to me—I was carrying a bag—we went through the gate and into the kitchen—we went in at the front door, as far as I know—I had never been there before—I had made arrangements to stay at Mrs. Dowd's own lodgings that night, and to return home on the Monday—when we got into the kitchen I put down the bag—Mrs. Dowd gave a dog that was there a bone—I do not know if the bone had been brought in the bag—I said, "This is a wonderful dry job, I will go and get some beer"—I went out and got some—I think it was three half pints—when I returned I think a man named Pool was there—me and Mrs. Dowd had a drink each, I am not
sure if Pool did—the prisoner was not there then—I was standing sideways to the door and opposite the dresser when I was shot—I did not see the prisoner—the shots just missed my eyes and went right through my nose—I do not remember what happened after I was shot—I was too dazed—I went to a doctor's, and then to the Richmond Hospital in a cab—I stayed there till the Monday week—I did not hear a noise outside just before I was shot.
Cross-examined. After Mrs. Dowd and I left the Noah's Ark we had another drink, or perhaps two—at Ashford we went into the White Hart before we went to St. Margaret's House—I went down with Mrs. Dowd to get out of the smoke at Rotherhithe—she did not come up to Rotherhithe only to ask me down—she comes up once a fortnight—she met me and my wife and asked me down—she did not ask my wife—she asked me to see her to the station and I done so—she said she paid the rent of her private rooms and I could stop there—I did not expect that she was going to take me to the house where she was staying with the prisoner—I did not go down purposely to pick a quarrel with him—I do not know what was in the bag besides the bone—I did not take any clothes—I did not shake hands with the prisoner when I got there because I had my bag in my right hand, and I do not shake hands with my left as a rule—I had no other reason for not doing so—it did not occur to me that he objected to my being there—I did not object when he came to my place last August—I did not hear him request me to leave—nothing was said about Mrs. Frank having told him to allow no strangers in—I did not use the words "Drown yourself"—while I was there I did not say to him "Drown your b----self"—I did not use any obscene language or say anything about thrashing the prisoner—I did not hear"Fancy man "mentioned—I heard it mentioned afterwards at Staines—I know what it means—I suppose we arrived at the house about nine p.m.—I do not know what time we left Waterloo—I do not know if I heard everything that was addressed to me that night—I only went to one public-house in the afternoon—I think Mrs. Dowd had a pony of bitter and I had a glass of ale—I was not to say perfectly sober, and I was not to say muddled—I received a present of a watch from Mrs. Dowd about ten days ago—I was not very proud of it—it is in a pawn shop now—I have had to make away with everything I have got through this case—I went down to Ashford simply to stay till Sunday—my wife said to me, "She is a bit muddled, you had better see her home"—I paid my own expenses there—I think I paid 1s. 5d. for my fare—I paid for some of the drink and she paid for some—I was not wearing the watch on March 15th—I have only worn it once since I have had it—I had no intention of going to Ashford till I got to Waterloo Station—she did not ask me to spend the week end till we got there—my wife was with me then.
Re-examined. I did not offer any violence to the prisoner that evening, and I did not intend to do so.
HELEN AMELIA DOWD . I am the wife of Patrick Dowd—I have been living apart from him for some time—I have been living with the prisoner as his wife for just on five years—I have some rooms of my own at 2, Chatton
Cottages, Ashford—my landlord is George Taylor—it is about five minutes' walk from St. Margaret's House—I had those rooms on March 15th—I have got on pretty well with the prisoner—he brought me home all his wages except his tobacco money—when I first met him he made mortar for a large building—for about six months before March 15th we were living at St. Margaret's House—I was acting as caretaker there—some time before that my mother was staying with me—the prisoner objected to her being there—on March 15th I went to town with my mother—the prisoner said to me, "Leave your family behind you, and don't bring: no more back with you"—my mother lives in Rotherhithe—I met Stillwell, who is my brother-in-law, and he accompanied me home in the evening—I was not sober—when we reached St. Margaret's I rang the bell, and the prisoner answered it—he opened the gate—he only said good evening to Stillwell—he did not object to his being there then—he said to me."What have you brought him home for?"—we went into the kitchen through the scullery door—I cannot say if the prisoner came in too or not—he came in afterwards, and said he would tell the missus for me, bringing my family down to make a disturbance—I told him he could do as he liked—he asked Still well to go out—he said he was going to stop with me—I said he should go when I liked, and not when he liked—I do not think the prisoner said anything then—I next saw him through the kitchen window—Mr. Taylor and Mr. Pool were in the kitchen then—they had come in shortly after we did—Taylor came for his rent and Pool came to ask me not to have any quarrel—he is the milkman—when the prisoner went out, he told him that there would be a quarrel—I said, "I am not having any quarrel" when I saw the prisoner outside the kitchen window, Stillwell was standing by me just inside the kitchen door as you go in out of the scullery—I did not hear any noise in the scullery—I said, "There is William, come in William, and don't be stupid"—I did not hear him say anything to Stillwell or Stillwell say anything to him—I did not hear the report of the gun properly but I see Stillwell stagger, and he said, "I am shot"—then I saw the prisoner outside the scullery door in the grounds—me and Pool went out together—he said to Pool, If I have shot him, George, I will give myself up to you to take me to the police"—he had nothing in his hand then—I opened the front gate and met Constable Beazley, who said, "Who has been using firearms?"—I said, "There was somebody shot in the kitchen"—the policeman came into the kitchen to Stillwell—I did not notice the prisoner there—this gun was usually kept in the kitchen behind the sewing machine—there were two or three cartridges in the kitchen dresser drawer, and the rest upstairs in the mistress's dressing room—I put them into the kitchen drawer—I was sent for a few one day, and I put them there out of the way, as they would not fit a gun of a friend of my mistress—there was no light in the scullery in the evening of March 15th.
Cross-examined. I was in a bad temper with the prisoner on March 15th—we had had a little tiff about my mother—I knew that Mrs. Frank had forbidden us to have strangers there—I had told the prisoner a few days before, that I should have to bring Stillwell down and give him a good thrashing—that did not tend to make him more fond of my family—I went
to Stillwell's house on March 15th—my bad temper had not quite worn off then—I invited him to come and stay at Ashford—I cannot say if I was in his kitchen or in a public-house when I invited him—it was before we got to Waterloo—I told him that I and the prisoner had quarrelled, and he suggested that he should come down and put things straight—he did not come down simply for a change of air, he came to interfere in our affairs—his wife heard me invite him down—I think he thought he was going to stop in my own rooms—the prisoner pays for those rooms, they are in his name—I think we got to St. Margaret's House about nine—I do not know if Stillwell is a good boxer—he was going to take my part—I did not know if there would be a fight—I do not think I had any thought at the time—I do not think I have heard of Stillwell acting as Don Quixote to a lady in distress before—when we got home the prisoner offered to shake hands with Stillwell in a perfectly friendly way—Stillwell had a bag in his hand, I do not know which hand—he could have shaken hands if he had been minded to—I told the prisoner I had brought my fancy man down to give him a good hiding—of course I did not mean it, he is not my fancy man—Stillwell heard what I said—he stood right alongside of me—the prisoner went out then—he returned in a few minutes and said, "What did you want to fetch him down to make a disturbance?"—I said, "To please myself" and that I should fetch who I liked—he told Stillwell to go out, us the missus had given him strict orders not to' have anyone in the house and would he kindly leave it—Stillwell must have heard that—he told the prisoner to go and drown his b----self—the prisoner said then or afterwards that he would make it warm for me—he was going to tell my missus—then he went out—the kitchen window was shut—he came to the scullery door, which was open, and said to Stillwell, "I suppose you have come down to give me a good hiding "or"to make a row?"—Stillwell said, "Yes, I have, and you can have it"—I heard a report of a gun, and I thought I was shot—it is true to say, "Stillwell and I were not quite sober when we got to St. Margaret's House, and were impudent to the prisoner"—the disturbance originated through me.
Re-examined. I did not see Stillwell offer any violence to the prisoner just before the shot—I saw him shake his fist at the prisoner, but he did not give him any blows.
GEORGE TAYLOR . I am a brickmaker, of 2, Chatton. Cottages, Ashford—I have known Mrs. Dowd and the prisoner four or five months—I am their landlord, and have visited them in a friendly way—Mrs. Dowd paid me the rent—she had the rooms on March 15th—on that day I was in the Hearts of Oak beer-house in the evening—George Pool. Mrs. Dowd, and a lot of people came in—they went out, and after I had drunk my beer I followed them—Pool spoke to me outside—I saw the prisoner in the road—I heard him say something about making it warm—I do not know if he heard what Pool said—afterwards I went to St. Margaret's House—I opened the gate and went into the kitchen—I saw Pool, Stillwell, and Mrs. Dowd there—Mrs. Dowd said, "Oh, it is you, George come in '—I stood leaning against the wall till I heard the report of a gun—Stillwell was then on the right-hand side of the doorway going in—before the shot Mrs. Dowd
saw the prisoner through the window and said, "There stands William come in, William," or"Bill, don't be so silly"—the prisoner said, "I have got something for you"—I could not see him when he said it, it was dark where he stood—a lamp was burning in the kitchen—Stillwell said, "If you have got anything for me, let's have it"—he walked into the doorway, then he returned to the kitchen and turned round sideways, and I heard the shot—I heard Stillwell say, "I am shot"—he put his hand to his head and sat back in a chair that was behind him—I walked across to Stillwell to see if he was hurt—I found the gun, but I cannot swear if I took it out of the prisoner's hands or off the floor—I was sober.
MRS. FRANK (Re-examined). The cartridges are called paper shot shells—I think they are loaded with nitro-glycerine—the shot are very small—I had the gun as a present from my Dad. to keep the crows off the strawberries.
GEORGE POOL . I am a butcher at Rosary, Ashford—I have known the prisoner since October—on March 15th I was in the Hearts of Oak beer-house—the prisoner came in and told me they had brought someone down from London to out him—outside the beer-house he told me he was sitting indoors with the dog and they turned him out—I asked Taylor to join me, and I went to St. Margaret's House—I went into the kitchen—while I was there I did not see anybody outside the window—I asked Mrs. Dowd not to have any disturbance that night—she said she would not—Taylor came in then—Mrs. Dowd said, "There is William at the window—he said something which I could not hear—he came round to the scullery door and said something else, but I do not know what it was, and Stillwell and he started rowing—just before the shot I heard the prisoner say, "I have got something for you"—Stillwell walked into the doorway and opened his coat and said, "If you have got anything for me let's have it then"—he stepped back to speak to Mrs. Dowd, and I heard the report of a gun—Stillwell said, "I am shot," or"He has shot me"—the prisoner came towards me and said, "I give myself up to you, George, take me to Robertson," that is the policeman—we walked towards the gate, which I opened, and a constable walked in and asked me to go for Robertson, which I did—I was sober.
Cross-examined. When Taylor came to the public-house I asked him to go to St. Margaret's—he said, "I do not interfere with other people's business, and I said, "Wise man, too"—I understood from the prisoner that there was, likely to be a row.
EDWARD BRIERTON HILL . I am house surgeon at the Royal Richmond Hospital—Stillwell was brought there on the early morning of March 16th—I found a lacerated wound at the point of his nose, also a laceration of the mucous membrane lining the nose—there were some small shot wounds on his face on the left side and beneath his eye—the left eyelids were swollen—one shot had perforated the hard palate at the roof of his mouth, one of his front teeth was broken off, and he was suffering from a certain amount of shock—he remained in the hospital till the following Monday week—there will be no permanent injury to his health, and there will be only a slight scar.
Cross-examined. The wounds have never been dangerous to life, or anything approaching it.
—BEAZLEY (736 T.) I went to the house on this evening and saw that Stillwell had been shot—I went again next morning and arrested the prisoner—I found him in a little goose-shed in an adjoining orchard—I told him I was a police officer, and should arrest him for shooting at his brother-in-law the previous night—he replied, "All right, old man, I have been waiting here all night for you"—on the way to the station he said he did not know the gun was loaded, and he fired at the ceiling to frighten Stillwell.
JAMES MAGLAUGHAN (607 T.) On March 16th I searched the grounds of St. Margaret's House—I found an empty cartridge case under the window looking into the kitchen, and just inside the kitchen door I found two wads.
Cross-examined. It is the top panel of the door—the top of the door is about 6 feet 6 inches high—there is some brickwork about the door.
Re-examined. The hole in the door was about 5 feet from the ground—the door faces away from the scullery—the door and the scullery are in a straight line.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, under great provocation, and the Jury expressed a wish that the prisoner should be lightly dealt with. Three months' hard labour.
MR. ANGUS CAMPBELL Prosecuted and MR. BURNIE Defended.
GUILTY , Five years' penal servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted.
JOHN BENTON . I live at 20, Oriental Road, Silvertown, and am a carman and contractor—I am an elder of the sect known as the Peculiar People—I was called to see the deceased on March 19th, at 18, Oriental Road, the prisoners' house about 8.30 p.m.—the child appeared to be ill with a cold but nothing serious—I annointed it and laid my hands on it in the name of the Lord, as laid down in the Scriptures—I went again on March 21st at 1 p.m.—the child was not very much different—I again laid
my hands on it in the name of the Lord—I went again on the 22nd about 9 p.m.—it then had a troublesome cough—I annointed its chest in the name of the Lord and laid hands upon it and left.
Cross-examined by the male Prisoner. I have known you about fourteen years—I have never known you to neglect your wife or children or home in any way.
By the COURT. I have not been ordained as an elder for more than four years—the Presbytery of the people ordain us—they are a body of elders like myself—as they are taught by the Spirit of God and advance and have experience in the ways of God so they are put on as helps over us—by experience in the ways of God I mean proving the Word of God and the power of God, and having experience in the ways of God and the dealings of God—we don't kill people, our children are not neglected in any way—I have been a witness of the power of God in many ways—we do not profess to save we are only instruments in His hands, we are only servants of God like the Apostles Paul and Peter—we do not despise medical aid, but we prefer the power of God.
FREDERICK DAYUS ,M.R.C.P. I live at 13, Church Street North, West Ham—I made a post mortem examination of the body of the deceased on March 26th—it was a well-nourished child, clean, and well looked after—on opening the head I found the surface of the brain somewhat congested, the right lung was congested, and the bronchial tubes contained a little muco-pus—the left lung was completely solid except in a small portion of the apex, and when placed in water it sank—the right side of the heart was full of blood clots, some of them post mortem and some ante mortem, which would indicate a slowly failing heart—the stomach contained about two teaspoonfuls of fluid—all the other organs were healthy—the cause of death was acute pneumonia—the left lung being solid would give the child a good deal of pain and difficulty in breathing—I think it had been solid two or three days—it would have been possible to alleviate the pain—if medical aid had been called in the child's life would undoubtedly have been prolonged and possibly saved—medical aid should have been called in shortly after the commencement of the illness, certainly four or five days before death—if medical aid had been employed it would have recognised that the heart was begining to fail, and steps would have been taken to stimulate it.
Cross-examined by the male Prisoner. Brandy would have been one of the remedies used.
ALFRED LAW (Police Inspector). I took the prisoners into custody on the Coroner's warrant, and conveyed them to Plaistow Police Station where they were charged with the manslaughter of their child—neither of them made any reply—the deceased was four years old.
FREDERICK ROSER (48 K.). I am Coroner's Officer for West Ham—I was present at the inquest held by Mr. Hilleary on March 27th on the body of the deceased—I heard both prisoners give their evidence and saw it taken down by the Coroner—they were cautioned—these are the original depositions—the prisoners signed them in my presence—(Read) Sarah says, "The deceased child now lying in West Ham mortuary was named
George Daniel Bernard Clark, he was four years old and my son, his general health was fair. He was taken ill with scarlet fever before Christmas. I knew it was scarlet fever from experience, and I informed the Sanitary Officer; he got over the attack, but did not appear the same in strength; about a fortnight ago he got a cold, he was so hot and feverish; he did not begin to cough until the Saturday before he died, he took his food all right. On Wednesday, the 19th inst., I called in Mr. Benton, an elder of the Peculiar People who came and laid his hands on him and anointed him, I thought the child was in need of deliverance; on the following day the child was better, Mr. Benton did not attend. On Saturday. March 22nd, his breathing was bad, and I called in Mr. Benton again, I put flannel on his chest: he began to cough on Saturday, and he became easier. On Friday, the 21st, he-was weaker, and I called in Mr. Benton; I sat up with the deceased on Saturday night, he laid calmly, but did not sleep, his cough had stopped, he took lemonade and weak brandy and milk and black-currant jelly, he took nourishment up to half an hour of his death: he died at 5.10 p.m. on Sunday evening, March 23rd, he was prayed for in the chapel on that day, the elders did not come, my husband earns 28s. a week, I did not call in a doctor on account of my creed; I thought the child was very ill, he had been so for three days, and ailing before: he did not suffer pain, so far as I could see, he was not in acute painh, is breathing was bad, I thought he had a cold and bronchitis. On Sunday I saw he was very ill, Mrs. Benton saw the child on Sunday, Emma Skington, my mother saw the child from time to time"—ALFRED said, "The deceased was my son, his general health was not very strong. He was at school until Tuesday fortnight last, he seemed to have got a cold, so much so that he was not allowed to go to school, I noticed he did not seem quite well. He went on about the same until Wednesday, March 19th, he did not seem so well then, he did not seem to want to lie on the couch: my wife called on Elder Benton with my sanction: he got better on Thursday, the 20th. On Friday, the 21st, he was not quite so well again, when I got home in the evening my wife told me that the deceased had not been so well, he seemed to be breathing rather heavily, and seemed dull he was on a couch in the kitchen. On Saturday, the 22nd, I rose at 4 a.m. and noticed he breathed more heavily, I saw him again at 2 p.m., he was about the same as when I left him in the morning, in the evening the elder was called in. He was kept in bed from Friday evening, but my wife and I nursed him, wrapped in blankets from time to time. On Sunday I noticed he was breathing more heavily, the cough ceased on Saturday night.I did not call a doctor because I believe the Bible tells me what to do in sickness, I have myself suffered from an influenza cold and suffered pain: I thought the child had a cold and bronchitis. On the Sunday the child complained of a pain in his heart, that was the first time he complained. I do not always complain when I suffer pain, I and my wife asked the child several times if he was suffering and he said no, he was very sensible, if he was really dying I should not call in a doctor."
The male prisoner in his defence said that since the Lord had converted
him he had read the Scriptures, and practised what they told him to do when sickness come; that he called upon the Lord, and He had delivered him many times; that he and his wife had done all they could for their child in the way of nourishment and comfort, and that he felt he had done his duty to it. The female prisoner in her defence said that the child did not suffer pain, as they asked him continually and he said no; that she never left it from the time it was taken ill: that the Lord rebuked the cough; that the child was quite sensible and that it was the Lord's will to take him, or else he would have been alive now.
GUILTY,recommended to mercy by the jury.
ALFRED Four months and SARAH Two months imprisonment, both in the second division.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
338. JOSEPH KENNY PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully applying for a ballot paper in the name of John Cook, a voter, at an election of a councillor for the borough of West Ham. Two months' imprisonment in the second division.
Before Mr. Recorder.
O'CONNOR PLEADED GUILTY .
ROBERT THOMPSON . I am a labourer—on April 1st I was in the George and Dragon, Woolwich—Tyler was there—I got into conversation with her and went out with her—O'Connor followed us and knocked me down and kicked me and blackened my eyes with his fist, and took my watch and money—I was sober—I lost 10s.—I am not sure whether I told the Magistrate 1s., but I have looked over my money since—Tyler ran away—I had seen the prisoners together in the public-house talking to one another—a woman informed a policeman, who came, and I was taken to the station—this is my watch (produced)—these marks on my face are the result of the injuries I received.
ALICE MAUD CHIVERTON . I am the wife of William Chiverton of 11 Nelson Street, Woolwich—on April 1st I saw Thompson go down the Ship stairs with Tyler—I saw her run up ten minutes afterwards and two or three minutes afterwards O'Connor followed her.
DAISY WARREN . I live at 17. Collingwood Street, Woolwich—on April 1st, in the evening, I saw Thompson—I saw O'Connor on the Ship stairs, and saw Tyler go up Nelson Street—that was before the struggle—O'Connor was standing still, about the length of this Court from her.
HENRY HOLFORD (Police Sergeant R.) I arrested Tyler on the free ferry at 9.15 the same night—she said, "I know nothing about it," but on the way to the station she said, "I have got the watch down the leg of
my stocking, if you wait a minute I will give it to you; you never saw me in a job like this before: Johnny O'Connor knocked the man down and took the watch from him and the woman at the George and Dragon took half a crown of the money"—she gave me the watch—I found on her 1s. 6d. is silver and threepence—at the station she said at first that O'Connor was the man, and then that he was not—she is a prostitute.
Tyler's defence. I am not guilty of the assault; I had the watch given to me.
TYLER, GUILTY of simple robbery.
She had been seven times convicted. Six months' hard labour.
O' CONNOR had been twice convicted, but not of felony. Eighteen months' hard labour.
340. DANIEL CARTER (24) and JAMES BROOKS (21) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering a Wesleyan chapel and stealing twenty-four hymn books and other articles, the property of James Gunston and others Carter having been convicted of felony at Guildford on June 16th, 1901. CARTER— Twelve months' hard labour ; BROOKS— Six months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
342. LEWIS HERBERT (67) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £12 10s.; also another order for £12 10s.: also an order for £14, with intent to defraud, having been convicted at this Court on March 12th 1900, in the name of Lewis Dimsdale. Two other convictions were proved against him. Three years' hard labour.
Before A. Rentoul Esq., K.C.
MR. ATTENBOROUGH Prosecuted.
ALFRED JAMES WATKIN . I live at 7, Kellett Road, Brixton—last year I was district agent of the Royal Liver Friendly Society—the prisoner was employed under me as agent—his duty was to report to me every week and to hand to me the amounts he had collected—he also obtained proposals for insurances and brought or sent them to me—his remuneration, to some extent depended on the amount of business he did—the written agreement provided that he would be entitled to a special commission of twelve times the first week's premiums on the insurances that he re-commended
up to 2s. so that if he obtained twelve insurances at 2d. a week he was entitled to twelve times 2s.—on September 12th he sent me these proposals which purport to be signed by William and Emily Baines and witnessed "T. Gregson "in his writing as the recommendation—the payment, is 2d. a week each—those were included in this long list—upon those two his premium was 4s., and on the total list £1 4s.—I believed the proposals to be signed by Emily Baines—on September 19th I read this proposal dated September 16th, 1901, purporting to be signed by Emily Bishop for five of their family—the weekly pay was 9d. and the prisoner's remuneration 9s.—the signatures, "T. Gregson," are the prisoner's writing—another proposal purports to be signed by Thomas Stump, of 163, Mandeville Street—the weekly pay was 3d., and the prisoner's pay 3s., and the signatures are the prisoner's—these were included in the prisoner's weekly list, and he received his remuneration—another proposal purports to be signed on October 21st by William Hargrave, of 328, Glynn Road, Clapton, to insure for £16 4s., and contains the prisoner's signatures—his remuneration was 6s.—the next is George Clemens, 159, High Street, Homerton, signed in the same way at a weekly pay of 8d., for which the prisoner received 8s.—these two are included in the prisoner's weekly list—I accepted them believing them to be genuine—I did not go to see these people.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I have known you four or five years—I had an appointment under the Scottish Legal Society—you were in the same employ—I resigned to better myself—at the end of my fortnight's notice I attended a dinner given at Sage's Hotel by Mr. Gibbs, the manager of the Scottish Union, and persuaded you to better yourself, but not to take the business to the Royal Liver—I recommended your remuneration to be increased as you declined to accept 15 to 25 per cent. Commission—the special commission was at first not to exceed 18s. a week—my duty was to see the insurers, but I could not do it in the time before you were paid—I saw your wife, to help to get you out of your difficulties—I did not say if you did not come and see me or Mr. Bonuett that I would take care you did not work for any other society—I do not say that I did not test any of your business—I did not test all.
SARAH ANN BAINES . I am the wife of William Edward Baines, of 55, Oswald Street, Clapton—my daughter Emily is aged sixteen—she is not married—this proposal is not mine—I did not sign it—I know nothing about it—the writing is not my daughter's—she is in service.
Cross-examined. My husband insured my four children aged sixteen, eleven, nine, and two, at one penny a week, and paid two or three weeks—you did not tell me you had to pay twelve weeks for me—you brought two books—I did not say that it was all right—the inspector came about children.
Re-examined. I gave no authority to sign this proposal, "Emily Baines. "
Clapham—the signature to this proposal, "W. Hargrave "of that address' is not mine—I did not insure my wife's and my life for £16 4s.—the prisoner called and said, "I have put you in the Royal Liver."I said, "Have you?" he said, "Will you speak up for me?"I said, "Yes, I should think so"—I did not know he had signed my name—I thought he meant to do a bit of dirty work—I never paid any premium.
Cross-examined. I was insured ten or twelve years ago—I do not know an agent named Portugal.
EMILY BISHOP . I am the wife of William Bishop, of 66, Overbury Street, Clapton Park—the signature on this proposal is not mine—the prisoner came and asked me to insure; I said no, and that I paid into the Prudential as much as I could afford—he said, "I want you to do me a good turn," and knowing him I gave him my husband's name and my own and the children's, and he said that there would be nothing to pay—I did not consent to insure or pay ninepence a week—I paid nothing.
Cross-examined. I have not been asked for anything.
Cross-examined. I have known you two years—you have insured me three or four times, but not at this house—I do not know whether you kept it up, you put it in a book—I have not been in it since last September.
CHARLES HAWKINS (Detective Sergeant.) I found the prisoner detained at Hackney police station on March 4th—I told him I held a warrant for his arrest and read it to him—it is for feloniously forging and uttering, well knowing the same to be forged certain undertakings for the payment of money—he made no reply—I took him to Brixton police station—when formally charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I am one of the London district managers—I wrote you this letter dated December 7th, 1900. (This stated that the returns demanded immediate inspection of the books; that the entries were accommodation or bogus entries and asking what the prisoner intended to do.) Another letter stated: "If you will only bring in your three week's sheets next Friday everything can go on as usual and you will continue in our employ; I am willing to give you another opportunity to continue and to make two week's returns next week on the excuse of illness and on the condition the returns are made up as quickly as possible"—probably you wrote to me.I have been called upon to produce the letter—we are satisfied if 50 per cent of the business stands—there is nothing to collect on your book—I have not got it—I have not been called upon to produce it.
Re-examined. I gave him an opportunity to put his book right—I was reluctant to proceed against him—we should dismiss an agent immediately we found he was putting in bogus names—a similar prosecution
to this is pending—I went round and made an inspection, and then wrote the letter of December 7th—"Accommodation or bogus entries "includes the case of an agent securing signatures at a public-house by drink or by other influences when there is no intention to pay the premiums.
The prisoner produced a written defence, complaining of the difficulties of an agent, and the defects in inspection, and stating that he had no intention to defraud.
GUILTY .—The Jury stated that they thought the way the Society carried out their work gave the prisoner an opportunity of carrying out this fraud. Three months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MARY COMPTON . I am a widow and am 72 years of age—the prisoner is my daughter—her husband is a road scavenger—they live at 40, Darell Road, East Dulwich—on April 21st, 1898, I went to live there with the prisoner—I had some money in the Post Office Savings Bank—I cannot say how much, this (Produced) is the book—in January, 1897, when I was at Norwood, I withdrew £50—I have not withdrawn anything for four years—I kept the book in a locked box in my room—I have never been able to go out while I have been living with my daughter—I never left my room, I cannot walk—I have rheumatism—I have not seen my book for three years—the box was kept in my drawer—the prisoner had nothing—to do with the key unless she took it while I was asleep—I never saw her go to the box—she knew I had some money, because I told her about two years ago—from time to time I asked her to send the book to the bank to have the interest made up, but she never went to the box—I never authorised her to withdraw any money for me from the bank—this money order and this withdrawal notice for £20, dated September 22nd, 1899, are not signed by me—I called in a police sergeant and showed him my book—the box had to be broken open as the prisoner had the key—I saw that the book was filled up and cancelled—I did not know till then that any more had been withdrawn, or that a new book had been taken out—I never saw it until the prisoner was in custody.
By the COURT. I offered the prisoner a little money sometimes for my maintenance which I had sent to me but she refused to take it.
LEONORA STREETER . I am a clerk in the Post Office—I am now employed at Malborn Green, East Dulwich—in 1899 I was employed at the Lordship Lane post office—I know the prisoner, she came to the post office in 1899, and I paid her money sixteen times—she signed this receipt, dated September 22nd, 1899, in the name of Mary Compton, in my presence, and I paid her £20—I have no doubt about her.
this bank book marked "Cancelled—I looked for the prisoner but could not find her—I saw her on the 17th about 10.30 in Crystal Palace Road—I took her to the station—I told her a bank book was stolen, she said she had posted it to the post office on the Tuesday morning—she was searched by the female searcher, and the new bank book was found on her—that goes down to October, 1899—I explained to her that £114 had been drawn out, she said, "Yes, I have had it and hid it away, and if I get twenty years I will never tell anyone where it is"—she was charged and made no reply.
MARY PARRY . I am female searcher at East Dulwich police station—I searched the prisoner on March 17th and found on her this new post office savings bank book—she said that she had the money and knew where to find it, and that she took it so that her husband should not have it to spend across the road, and if she got twenty years she would never say what she had done with it.
Prisoner's defence. "I have not had the money, and I said I would rather do the twenty years, and so I would, rather than turn round on those who have had it. That is not my writing."
It was stated that the prisoner had obtained by forgery £20from the London and South Western bank belonging to her mother. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. SYMMONS prosecuted.
RICHARD BONNER (Police Inspector, M.). About 10.15 p.m. on March 21st I was called to a fire at 74, Bankside, near Blackfriars Bridge, on the south side—there is a large hay and straw wharf there—the hay and straw is kept in three corrugated iron buildings—two out of the three were burned—I did not go into them—when I got there the fire was not out—I remained there about two hours while it was burning—the entrance to the wharf is not locked up at night—there is a large gateway which' is never closed and the ends of the buildings themselves are open—there is no watchman—at 12.30 I went back to the Borough Police Station, which is about fifteen minutes' walk from the wharf, and I saw the three prisoners there—they had been there only a few minutes when I got there—I asked them if they had any money—I found they were destitute—they seemed hungry—I charged them with wandering without visible means of subsistence—they said they wanted to make a statement—I said, "Come into my room: I will take your statements, but understand, anything you say may
be used in evidence against you; now do you wish to make this statement?—they each said "Yes"—I took each prisoner into my room separately, Murphy first because he was senior—I wrote it down—he read it and signed it—then I called in Ludford—he read Murphy's statement and signed it, and Oates did the same—(Read). Murphy said, "About 10 p.m. on the 21st inst.I went with Ludford and Oates to the Walkleys' wharf to have a sleep on the hay and straw. We climbed to the top, and I lit a match to light a cigarette. We had only one cigarette, and were passing it round. We sat talking a few minutes, and all of a sudden smoke came from the hay, and then flames, and we ran out; we did not raise any alarm as we were frightened. We watched the fire from the Embankment, and afterwards came on to the station, as we thought we should get found out. After lighting the match I put the end out with my fingers, and then threw it down on the hay, but I think a portion of it must have fallen down upon the straw.I had no intention of setting fire to the straw, and I have had no home for the past eight or nine months, but used to live in the boys' home, Westminster Bridge Road, and have slept on the straw with the other two lads for the past two or three nights"—Ludford said, "I have read the statement made by Murphy, and it is correct.I have had no home for the past three months, but previously lived in the same house as Murphy"—Oates said, "I have read the statement made by Murphy, and it is correct.I have had no home for the past two months, but was previously in the same home as Murphy and Ludford"—next morning I saw them again, and said, "I do not believe the statement you made to me last night, but I think you set fire to the straw for the same reason, to bring yourselves under notice,"I meant to get locked up and taken care of—. Murphy said, "No, Sir, I did not; it was an accident"—the others also said it was an accident and that they did not mean to set light to it—they were then charged.
EDWARD GEORGE EARL . I am foreman to Walkley Bros. & Co. Ltd., at 74, Bankside—they had three buildings for storing horse fodder—two of them were burnt on the night of March 21st—the fodder was compressed foreign hay, some from Canada and some from Norway—it was packed as close as possible—it is not a lock-up place, and we have no watchman—we have been there about fifty years, and have never had a fire before—there was about three or three and a half loads of straw on top of the hay that was not compressed, it was in trusses—there was a corrugated iron roof over it—it was all dry—the fire originated among the straw on the top, right at the water side—I was there in less than five minutes after the fire broke out.
JOHN BLYTH . I am a superintendent in the London Salvage Corps—I was called to this fire on March 21st—about £1,000 worth of damage was done—the premises are insured for £13,250—compressed hay would be difficult to light with the dying embers of a match—there would be about the same difficulty in lighting straw—a lighted wooden match thrown down on straw would go out nine times out of ten, but a wax vesta would be a different thing altogether—if a wooden match kept alight it would set fire
to straw—I think it is a matter of impossibility to set fire to straw with the dying embers of a match.
WILLIAM EMANUEL . I am a superintendent in the London Fire Brigade—I was called to this fire on March 21st—I found about 150 loads of hay well alight—I got there shortly after 10 p.m.—there was no straw on top of the hay—I turned the whole of it over and found no straw—there was some hay by the side of the wharf, and it was all alight—a lighted match thrown down would probably set it alight, but I have doubts about it, because it originated close to the water side, where it would be rather damp.
E.G. EARL Re-examined. When the firemen came they tumbled the straw down to the side, and played on it.
Murphy's defence. "A part of the match must have fallen off before I put it out with my fingers; I lit the match on my boot."
MURPHY then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on June 24th, 1901,as Harry Murphy. A former conviction was proved against LUDFORD. All the prisoners had been in a reformatory.
MURPHY Five years' penal servitude —LUDFORD Four years' penal servitude —OATES Three years' penal servitude.
MR. FITZGERALD prosecuted.
GUILTY , Ten years' penal servitude.
MR. FRIEND Prosecuted.
MILDRED WATSON . I am an inmate of the Lambeth casual ward—on the night of March 13th I was in bed when I heard the prisoner come in—I did not see her—next morning she said to me, "Mrs., Mrs."—I said, "Yes, what is it you want?"—she said, "I have thrown my baby out of the window"—I said, "What did you say?"—she said, "I have thrown my baby out of the window"—I said, "Good God, woman!" and I at once ran down to Mr. Fairweather—I had only been in the ward since Tuesday and had not seen the prisoner before—she said it was the lavatory window down the corridor—she would have to walk through four cells to get there—the window is small, with two iron bars—she would have to hold the baby upright and push it to get it through.
ALFRED FAIRWEATHER . I have been superintendent at the Lambeth casual ward about ten years—on the night of March 13th the prisoner came there, and next morning I received a communication from the last witness—I went into the yard and down one side of it, and my helper, Henry Lee, went the other: he found the child—the lavatory window was open—it is about fifteen feet from the ground—the fastening was broken so it had been tied up with a piece of cord, which I found
untied—the child was dressed in its ordinary clothes, and tied up tightly in a shawl, and no part of it visible—it was moaning—when I had taken it to the infirmary I spoke to the prisoner—she made no reply to me.
By the COURT. I had not received her when she came in overnight—the fastening of the window had been broken a few days—it had not been mended, because we have to requisition for those things, and it takes time to get them—it would have been easier to have undone the regular fastening than it would be to undo the cord.
HARRY LEE . I am a helper at the casual ward—I have been there since January—about 9.15 a.m. on March 14th an alarm was given that a baby had been thrown out of a window—I found it under the lavatory window, which is about fifteen feet from the ground—it was moaning, and I took it to the infirmary.
GEORGE ROBERT HARCOURT . I am the medical officer at Lambeth Infirmary—I examined this child on March 14th—I found no marks on it at that time, it now has a bruise at the back of its left ear—I take it that part of the muscle running from the ear to the back of the chest has been broken—at present it is wry-necked, and cannot keep its head up straight—it may lose that but it may be necessary to have an operation to rectify it—I did not examine the prisoner.
JOSEPH PULLEN (Police Sergeant L.) I took the prisoner into custody on the morning of March 14th—on being charged she said, "I do not know the reason that made me do it, but I done it"—on the way to the station she said, "I left my husband and two children at 40, Change Street, Bethnal Green Road, last Wednesday morning, and he told me to go and drown myself; I do not know what made me do it, I feel out of my mind"—she seemed as if she had just got over a bout of drinking—a doctor at the workhouse examined her and said she was all right, but he thought she had been drinking.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not in drink; I had had no drink, I had only had half a pint of beer; the day before I had not had any.I had not had food. I left my husband to see if I could see my sister: it was too late to go home, and I could not walk from Bethnal Green to Lambeth.I am the mother of eight, and my husband has not been a good husband to me or a good father to my children.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. The prisoner's husband stated that she was a good mother and wife and only gave way to drink occasionally;she promised to sign the pledge. Discharged on recognisances.
MR. BIRON and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted and MR. DRUMMOND Defended.
Mortlake, and am a salesman employed at Clark's Nursery, Putney.I have been married to the deceased for about 7 1/2 years—we went to live at Mortlake two years ago last March—we became acquainted with the prisoner about a month after we went there—he was living there before we went there—he lived at No. 83, Second Avenue—lie represented him self to me as a retired baker—he is married—we became friendly, and he used to visit our house—my wife was not in business at that time, but in October she went to work at Messrs. Butt and Sons. High Street. Kensington, where she stayed till March 6th—I met the prisoner outside Palmer's Stores, Bridge Road, Hammersmith in March, 1901—he was only a neighbourly acquaintance but he used to come to my house and play at cards—we generally played dummy whist—he was waiting against a van which I used to use on my rounds—we shook hands and passed the time of day, when he began to blackguard me—he said I was a dirty Frenchman, that I did not keep my wife, that she went to work and kept me, that I was a drunkard, a thief, and all sorts of things—I saw him subsequently in the streets at Mortlake from time to time, when the same abuse took place—he said he was going to mark me, that his life had been ruined, and he was going to ruin me—in March and April our relationship was very unfriendly—in April he came and smashed my windows, and on July 20th I lodged a complaint with the police that he had threatened to shoot or stab either my wife or myself—I asked for police protection—he left us alone for about a week or a fortnight, then he came and made a disturbance outside our house—I went out and thrashed him, he returned and smashed my windows—when he was outside he said, "You dirty Frenchman, take your b----h----to bed and—"—I went to the police court and took out a summons against him for using abusive language and damaging my windows—I was served with a cross-summons for assault—they were heard on August 28th—the summons against me was dismissed, and the summons I had taken out against him was confirmed, and he was fined—I met him next day in Priory lane—he asked me if I was satisfied—on February 23rd I had an accident to my ankle while skating and I was unable to go to work till March 6th—my wife continued to go to business—on March 6th she returned at her usual hour of 6.30—two friends, Mr. Church and Mr. Oneil came in to spend the evening—we were all sitting in the front sitting-room, and about 6.20 there was a knock at the door—my wife went to open it—there was no light in the hallit was a very foggy night—I heard the front door open, and I heard a voice, which I recognised as the prisoner's, he said, "Is Mr. Pamphilon in '?"—I did not hear any reply, but I instantly heard a pistol shot and then two more—I did not hear a fall—I was sitting in front of the fire, with my leg on some cushions—immediately I jumped towards the door, my ankle gave way, and I fell down—all I remember after that is getting to the window, and breaking it and calling for help—when I got into the passage I saw my wife there, dead or dying, with her head against the sitting-room door.
Cross-examined. We were on friendly terms from April, 1900, to March. 1901—he used to come to my house two or three times a week—during
those eleven months he conducted himself in a perfectly friendly way—I did not notice that his conversation with other people was abusive or foul-mouthed—there was no foundation for his accusing me of not keeping my wife, she was allowed to keep her own wages and mine—his sudden change from friendship to enmity took my breath away—when he made the charge against me about my wife I said that if we had not been so friendly for such a time I should have had him locked up—he said, "That is what I want you to do. Hammersmith police court is just round the corner; take me round there, and I will expose you"—I asked him what he had to expose, there was nothing to expose—the Magistrate tried to get him to say what he had to expose and he said nothing—when he said, "Take me to the police court,"I said "You are drunk or mad. I will leave you," and I got up into my van and drove away—I said at the police court that I had said, "Oh. you must have suddenly gone mad, I shall not stop to speak to you"—there is not the slightest ground, so far as I know, for saying that my wife had separated him from his wife.
WILLIAM CHURCH . I live at 4, Waring's Buildings, Barnes, and am employed at Clark's Nurseries—I was at Mr. Pamphilon's house on March 6th—the deceased was there, and a friend named Oneil—about 9.20 p.m. I heard a knock at the door—the deceased went to the door, and I heard three shots almost directly—I did not hear anything in the passage, before the shots—the door of the room had got fastened somehow—I tried to open it but could not—I am not sure who opened it—when I went into the passage I had to step over the body of the deceased—I helped to carry her into the parlour—when I first saw her she was bleeding from her mouth and nose—I do not know if she was dead then—I ran for a doctor.
----HIBBARD. I live at 75, Second Avenue, on the floor above Mr. and Mrs. Pamphilon—I know the prisoner—on March 6th I got home between 7 and 8 p.m., and remained at home with my wife till this occurrence—a visitor named Mrs. Pullen came in—I heard a knock at the front door—I do not know the time—I heard the door open, and then reports of a pistol, and the prisoner's voice saying, "Take that, take that" between the shots—I have heard him speak many times—I blew a police whistle, which brought the police.
Cross-examined. I have been at 75, Second Avenue for about three years, but I have been away part of the time, although I kept on our rooms—I only saw the Pamphilons and the prisoner together on three occasions I never went to their parties—I only knew the prisoner before he went to the Pamphilons just to say good morning—I have not been intimate with him—I only heard him use abuse on the one occasion that the windows were broken—while he was on good terms with the Pamphilons he was quiet and peaceable.
SARAH ANN HIBBARD , I am the wife of the last witness—on March 6th I was at home with him in the evening—I heard a knock at the front door then I heard a voice.I do not know what it said—I heard some shots, and then I fainted—I had known the prisoner for some time before—I remember when the windows were broken—some time after that I went into
the White Hart and saw the prisoner there—he said he had not done with the Pamphilons—I said, "In what way?"—he said he meant to have his revenge, and his revenge he would have, no matter what it cost him, and that when he did so he would make all Barnes and Mortlake ring with the news—I said, "I should let it drop if I was you, Mr. Earl, and take no further notice"—he said he should not.
Cross-examined. I was away from home for nine months, so I had not much opportunity to see the prisoner while he was on friendly terms with the Pamphilons—when I returned home in January, 1901, they were still on friendly terms—they were not on friendly terms when I had this conversation with him in the White Hart—he seemed very angry with them—he was always outside their window abusing them and shouting—I did not see him when he broke the windows, I only heard him.
ISABELLA SQUIRE . I am the wife of Frederick Squire, of 81, The Avenue, Mortlake—I know the prisoner—I remember his being summoned at Mortlake Police Court—next day he told me he would have his revenge—three or four times since, he has said that he would have his revenge after the police court proceedings—the last time he said that was about two months ago—he left his home about five or six weeks before the murder, and he never returned home—he lived at 83, Second Avenue—I do not know where he went to when he left home—his wife stayed there—when he said he would have his revenge he was under the influence of drink—on March 6th I was in my house—I heard a report, and went to my door—it was a very foggy night—then I heard two more reports—then I thought I saw something in the fog but it was so dense I cannot say positively.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about fifteen months—while he was on friendly terms with the Pamphilons he seemed to be a quiet and peaceable man.
Re-examined. I never heard why there had been a change in his feelings towards the Pamphilons.
CHARLES DICKETTS . I am a carpenter, of 97, Archway Street, Barnes—on March 6th, about 8.55 p.m., I was in the private bar of the White Hart Hotel, which is about 300 yards from Second Avenue—the prisoner was in the bar when I went in—I wished him good evening—I do not know how long he stayed there—I was in the next compartment, and spoke to him over the partition.
TOM HULBERT . I am manager at the White Hart—I saw the prisoner in the small private bar on March 6th, about 8.30 p.m.—I did not know him before to notice him—I do not know if he had had any drink—I saw him again about 9 p.m. sitting in the same chair.
Cross-examined. I took notice of him that night because I had to go round to the front, and I saw him looking at me from under his hat in rather a strange way.
ERNEST BELL . I am manager to Messrs. Lazarus and Sons, at 18. King Street, Hammersmith—I know the prisoner—one Thursday in March he came into the shop about 1 p.m. and asked to see a revolver that was in the window—I showed him this one (Produced.)—he asked me it it was powerful, and several questions in connection with it which I
answered—then he asked me if I had any cartridges—he said he wanted it to shoot a dog with—the price was 7s. 6d., and I sold it to him for that sum—I supplied him with half a box of cartridges, twenty-five—there are nineteen in it now—he asked me to load it for him, and I did so in six chambers—as I handed it to him wrapped up I told him to be careful with it as it was a dangerous thing—he was perfectly sober—I subsequently went to the police station and picked him out from several others.
ARTHUR JAMES BOWMAN ADAMS . I am a registered medical practitioner and divisional surgeon, of Barnes—on March 6th I was called to the Pamphilons' house—I found the deceased in the back room—life was then extinct—there was a quantity of blood on the clothing and hair—I afterwards examined her, and found three bullet wounds one on the bridge of the nose, and one or two on the right arm close together, one on the outer aspect and one on the inner aspect—the arm must have been raised when the shots were fired—the bullet wound in the head was the cause of death—the shot must have been fired within one or 1 1/2 feet, as her face was pitted with gunpowder.
Cross-examined. I have had experience in homicidal mania and temporary insanity—it is quite a common form of insanity for persons afflicted with homicidal mania to take a sudden and violent dislike to their nearest and dearest friends, but there are generally some preliminary symptoms, although it may only be observed suddenly—it may take any form; it may be threats of what they will do—it is sometimes very difficult to detect, except when the paroxysm is upon them—you might be weeks and months with a person suffering in that way, and not be conscious of it—after the paroxysm the patient generally reverts to his normal condition—I do not know if the element of right and wrong is very strong—a patient might know it was wrong to murder, but he might not think it wrong to kill a particular person—I have known of a case where it was not evident whether the person knew it was wrong to kill in other cases, it was not evident one way or the other—it may be a delusion that the object of their hatred has injured them—it is a very common thing that persons who have been well conducted have suddenly used filthy language—a person in that position would not be assisted by drink.
Re-examined. A man of violent passion who had feelings of ill-will might be inflamed by drink—when I say that persons have been killed in cases of homicidal mania I mean that the act was committed in a sudden frenzy of excitement, which sometimes comes and goes suddenly, and it would be continued when the person is in such a state that he does not know what he is doing—it is not an uncommon thing to have a threat made, and the act completed subsequently—it is possible, but not common in cases of sudden homicidal mania to have threats and expressions of ill-will made some months before—the act may be committed in such a state without premeditation—usually they do not afterwards remember what has taken place—I should not expect a man after committing the act to say he was just going to give himself up for doing it—the prisoner undoubtedly recollected what he had done, and knew that it was wrong—if the act was committed during a paroxysm of insanity I should not expect to find a man purchasing
a revolver and cartridges some hours before the act was committed, or to be quite rational just before the occurrence—I should not expect a man suffering from a paroxysm of insanity to understand enough to say, "Oh, yes, it will be used in evidence against me."
By the COURT. It does not suggest homicidal mania to me—when a man says he is going to be revenged, and afterwards buys a revolver for the purpose of being revenged, it does suggest that he was doing wrong to satisfy his revenge.
JAMES VICARS (313V.) I was on duty about 11.30 p.m. on March 6th with Police-constable Starkie and Detective Fullerton in King Street, Hammersmith—I saw the prisoner—I seized him by the arms, and told him I was a police officer, and wanted him on a charge of murder—I did not mention any name—he said, "All right, I will go quietly; I was just going to give myself up; it is for Mrs. Pamphilon: I hope I shot her '—he was conveyed to Barnes police station in a cab and after being charged was placed in a cell—I think he was sober—I was in charge of him during the night—about 12.30 he said, "She won't ruin another man's house"—he had previously been cautioned twice in my presence—later on he said, "I bought the revolver at King Street, Hammersmith, the man loaded it for me as I did not understand it; I fired two shots in Bedford Park: I went to her business place, but found she had left early: I fired three shots at her, one left in the revolver accounts for six shots: when the police-whistles were being blown I was on the opposite side of the road. I went through Mortlake, and walked to Richmond; I had some mussels at a stewed eel shop near the fire station. I took a tram to Kew, walked over the bridge, and took a tram to Hammersmith, I crossed the road just before you took me.I am glad she was not at Kensington as it would not have done Butts much good. "
Cross-examined. He was not in a very excited state; he was rather.
ALEXANDER FULLERTON (Detective, V.) I saw the prisoner on March 6th after he was in custody—on the way to the station he said, "It is very foggy '"—I replied,."Yes"—he said, "I have been in a fog since last November, and Mrs. Pamphilon has been the means of parting me and my wife"—before I took him to the station I cautioned him, and said he need not say anything unless he liked, but what he did say would be taken down in writing, and that he would betaken to Barnes police station for shooting Mrs. Pamphilon—he said, "I hope I shot her; I hope so."
FREDERICK STARKIE (430V.) I was present when the prisoner was arrested in Hammersmith—I took hold of him and felt his coat—he said, "It is in there, and one shot left in it"—I put my hand into his coat and took out a six-chambered revolver from his inside breast pocket—I took him to Barnes police station, where he said, "Here, I will give you something; here are some pills for you; I cannot swallow them myself," at the same time handing me a tin box containing nineteen cartridges.
JAMES SCOTT (Detective Inspector, V.) About 11.45 p.m. on March 6th I saw the prisoner at Barnes police station—I told him I was a police inspector, and that he would be charged with the wilful murder of Margaret Pamphilon at 75, Second Avenue, Mortlake—he said, "I hope so; it was my intention"—I cautioned him and said, "What you say—." before I could
proceed any further he said, "Will be evidence against me"—I said, "Yes"'—the charge was then entered and read over to him—he said, "Quite correct; I have nothing to say"—his address was known, but he would not say where he had been for the last five weeks, or what he had been doing—he appeared perfectly cool and collected.
Cross-examined. I discovered the fact that the prisoner's sister some years ago attempted to commit suicide—there was an inquest held upon the father—he was much addicted to drink—there has been no charge against the prisoner except the summons taken out by Mr. Pamphilon—he has hitherto borne the character of a respectable tradesman.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer at Holloway Prison, and have had much experience in cases of insanity—in accordance with the request of the Director of Public Prosecutions I have kept observation on the prisoner since he has been at Holloway—he came there on March 7th, I saw him on the evening of that day, and I have seen him almost daily since, and have talked with him—I have not detected any trace of insanity in him—I have examined him to find out if he has any insane delusions, and I have not been able to find any—there was nothing in his manner, except what I should expect to find—I do not think he was suffering from a paroxysm of insanity at the time he fired at the deceased—I think there is more method than usual in a case of this kind.
Cross-examined. In some cases insanity is extremely difficult to diagnose—because I have found no trace of insanity it does not follow that he is absolutely, sane—I can only say I have found no evidence of insanity—he might possibly have had insane delusions before I examined him—there is certainly a wide range in cases of insanity, and almost anything may happen—I do not think the sudden change from extreme friendship to extreme enmity is necessarily a sign of insanity—such things do happen in insanity, and in insanity there are threats of revenge—lunatics often show method—I do not think I have known of cases of insanity with more method than in this case—it is possible if a person has a sudden revulsion of feeling towards friends which is accompanied by threats, that it may go on to homicidal mania.
By the COURT. I found no trace of it in this case.
The Vicar of Fulham gave the prisoner a good character.
THE PRISONER. "I shot the woman because she was fifty times worse than a common street harlot, and her husband knows it, and he is a bigger liar than I am.I am guilty, my lord. "
THE PRISONER. "I thank you, my lord; I will go there with pleasure."
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 5TH, 1902.