CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 9TH, 1902.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER.
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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 Tuesday, September 9th, 1902, and following days,
Before the Right Hon. SIR JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Bart., M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir JOSEPH WALTON , Knt., one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt., and Sir JOSEPH RENALS, Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; JOHN POUND , Esq.; FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., THOMAS BOOR CROSBY, Esq., M.D., and DAVID BURNETT , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; ALBERT FREDERICK BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; LUMLEY SMITH , Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court, and JAMES ALEXANDER RENTOUL , Esq., K.C., M.P., LL.D., Deputy Judge of the City of London Court, His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol delivery holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
DIMSDALE, MAYOR. ELEVENTH 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.—Tuesday, September 9th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
566. RICHARD FISH (36) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a quantity of railway tickets, the property of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway Company. Also to conspiring with H. Smith, and others unknown, to obtain railway tickets from the said company. Judgment respited.
(567) CHARLES ALFRED REED (29) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a cheque for £4, the property of the Postmaster-General. Also to stealing a post letter, the property of the Postmaster-General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(568) HENRY CHARLES ISAAC (38) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, seven post letters, the property of the Postmaster-General Nine months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(569) SIDNEY CALLAN (22) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a lady's dress bodice, the property of the Postmaster-General. Six months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(570) CHARLES BAILEY, otherwise ARTHUR ROGERS (24), to stealing a purse and 7s. 2 1/4d. from the person of Eliza Kelly , having been convicted of felony at the Mansion House on May 26th, 1902. Sixteen previous convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(571) EDWARD HARVEY CORDEAUX (45) , to stealing and receiving a share certificate for 160 deferred shares in the Dunlop Pneumatic Tyre Company, his masters. Also to forging and uttering a transfer of 111 and 49 Deferred Shares and interest in the same company, with intent to defraud. Also to wilfully falsifying the books and accounts of the said company. Twelve months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(572) WILLIAM THOMAS (15) and JAMES COOMBES (18) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas Henry Carman and stealing 4s. 6d., 30 packets of cigarettes, and other property. Also to a burglary in the house of Harry Joseph Lawrence with intent to steal, Coombes having been convicted of felony at Bow Street on July 20th, 1901. THOMAS, Ten months' hard labour; COOMBES, Twenty months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] and
(573) WILLIAM CARPENTER (27) , to stealing a watch from the person of Robert Dick, having been convicted of felony at this Court on September 12th, 1892, as John Sims. Fifteen previous convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ORMSBY Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM FOOT . I am a leather merchant, of 8, High Street, Woolwich—on July 21st I went to the post office in Hare Street, Woolwich, for a 2s. postal order—this is it (Produced)—I wrote "G. Stoddart, Middleburgh, Holland,"on it—he is a betting agent—I put two 1 1/2 d. stamps on it, took it home, wrote the order, crossed it, put the address on, and posted it about 8.30 p.m.—I have no doubt this is the order.
FREDERICK CHARLES NUNN . I am an inspector of postmen at Woolwich—until July 28th the prisoner was employed at the Woolwich office—a letter posted at Woolwich about 8.30 p.m. on July 21st, addressed to G. Stoddart, Middleburgh, Holland, would reach our office about midnight and leave at 2.25 a.m.—before leaving it would be sorted—the prisoner would come on duty as postman at the sorting office at 11.10 p.m., and would leave at 2.25 a.m.—he would be stamping the letters, and would have access to the letters lying there.
Cross-examined. There would be four men stamping, and about eleven there as postmen.
JOHN MASON . I am employed by Mr. Stoddart at Middleburg, Holland—I was there on July 22nd—in the ordinary course of business a letter posted on July 21st about 8.30 p.m. at Woolwich, might reach us in the evening of the 22nd—we never received a letter from Mr. Foot enclosing a postal order for 2s., with two 1 1/2 d. stamps on it—I have no trace of a customer named Albert Edward Yates, of 8, Nyanza Street, Plumstead—if a man had been sending us postal orders for some time past we should have traces of it in our books.
Cross-examined. I have also looked for the name of F. Morgan, but have not found it.
RICHARD WALTER DAVIS . I am an assistant in the Confidential Inquiry Office at the Post Office—I kept observation on the prisoner on July 28th about 10.30 I saw him leave his house at 8, Nyanza Street, Plumstead—he took the train to Greenwich—he went into a post office there and changed a postal order for 20s.—he wrote T. Jones on the order—I saw him obtain payment for it—I asked him if the name he had written upon
the order was his—he said no—I told him I knew him as postman Yates of Woolwich—he replied, "That is right, I found that order in the Slade"—that is the name of a street.
BARRY HOLTHAM . I am a constable attached to the Post Office—on July 28th I saw the prisoner, I told him I was a police constable and was going to search him, and I did so at the Post Office—taking out his pocket handkerchief I shook it, and from its folds a 20s. order dropped on to the table—at first he denied all knowledge of it, but eventually said he had picked it up in the Slade with the other which he had been seen to cash—I went to his house in Nyanza Street—in a pocket-book in a uniform overcoat I found a postal order for 1s. and four others in his bedroom, one of them for 2s.—there were also some stamps which had the appearance of having been re-gummed—all the postal orders were crossed and made payable to Stoddart, and in the pocket where I found them there was also a quantity of 2 1/2 d. stamps which had undoubtedly been torn off letters—among the orders was the one for 2s. and with two 1 1/2 d. stamps on it—the writing on the 1s. order and that on an envelope addressed to Stoddart was the same—I gave the things to Mr. Pile, and the prisoner was charged with stealing the orders.
Cross-examined. Your wife said that you were waiting for some money from Geo. Stoddart.
PERCEVAL FITZGERALD PYLE . I am a clerk in the General Post Office—I gave certain instructions with regard to the prisoner—I saw him on July 28th, the orders were then in my possession—I cautioned the prisoner and said—"These orders have been found at your house, do you wish to give any explanation of your possession of them,"he said "They are what I send away every week to Stoddart; I bought them."I said, "Who wrote on them,"he said, "A friend of mine, he is now in South Africa,"he at once corrected that and said, "I wrote on them, that was a mistake on my part."I think the writing on all the orders is the same, but disguised—I asked him about the stamps, and he said, "They are what I have put on and not sent away."
The prisoner in his defence on oath said that he found the two £1 orders in the Slade at Plumstead and the others he had bought; that he had betted with Stoddart in the name of F. Morgan for two or three months; that he had put the two 1 1/2 d. stamps on the 2s. order himself; that the orders were not written all in the same writing as it was a funny idea of his to write in different writing; and that the stamps found were those he had put on envelopes, but had removed because the envelopes had become smudged.
GUILTY . Fifteen months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 9th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
(577) ANNIE SMITH (34) , to stealing four bangles and other articles the property of James Hammett, her master, also to stealing a gold watch and other articles of Edward Ives, her master, also to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin and to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on March 19th 1901. Three years' penal servitude [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]— And
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Detective Sergeant). On August 8th, about 11 a.m., I was in Liverpool Road, Islington, with Fowler, and saw the prisoner—I said, "Good morning O'Briant, I believe you are uttering base coin and have counterfeit coin on you"—he said, "I have not, take me to the station and search me"—I said to Fowler, "Search him and see what he has got"—Fowler did so and found seven counterfeit half-crowns in his trousers pocket, wrapped up separately in paper—I sent him to the police station.
HARRY PURKISS (Detective). I helped to search the prisoner—I found on him a florin and two sixpences good money—he said, "If the Inspector will allow me out for an hour I will find the woman I got the things from."
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on November 16th, 1896, of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, and five oilier convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. The Jury commended the police officers.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM WILKINSON (Detective Sergeant). I went to Francis Street, Islington, at five o'clock with Detective Purkis—I opened the door of the front room, first floor—the two prisoners were there—I said, "We are police officers. I have reason to believe you have implements in this room for the manufacture of base coin"—George said. "I know nothing about it"—I told Fowler and Purkis to search the room while I detained the prisoners—the female prisoner was very violent and had to be taken away.
Cross-examined by George. She endeavoured to use a hat pin, but it was taken from her.
Cross-examined by Isabella. I had had you under observation all day, saw you both go in, and went in after you—You were violent and tried to use one of your hat pins.
By the COURT. The prisoners are not man and wife.
HENRY FOWLER (Police Sergeant.) I went with Wilkinson and Purkis after keeping the prisoners under observation—I searched and found five counterfeit half-crowns, six counterfeit florins, and eight counterfeit shillings between the bed and the mattress, all together in one paper—immediately I found them the female prisoner became very violent and
tried to get at the male prisoner, saying "It is you who have put me away"—I held her back—she called him a hound and said, "Take me to him that put me away and I will tell you where the things are"; she then turned to the male prisoner and said, "Have you put me away, George?"—he said, "No, Bell, you shut your mouth, I brought the things here and will put up with it; you shan't suffer"; she said, "No, George, you have been good to me; you have given me 4s. a week, and you shan't take all the blame"—she became very violent then against the police, but previously it was all against the man—I continued to search till she took from a drawer in a chest of drawers two purses, from which she gave me four good half sovereigns and 38s. in silver all good—there was nothing in the other purse, but in a corner of the drawer from which she took the purse I found this half-crown (produced)—among the silver I found a florin and a shilling which are the patterns of the counterfeit coins—I saw Purkis find several articles under the couch—while the prisoners were waiting to be charged in the dock Isabel said to me, "I want that woman from down stairs brought here, it is her that put me away; I was only minding the things for her"; George then said, "You shut up, I will put up with it"—the charge was taken and read over, and the woman said, "I was minding them for the woman downstairs"; George said, "I know who put us away"—I found on him two half-crowns and 1s. good money.
Isabella Spencer. I never used a hat pin, for I never had one.
HARRY PURKIS (Detective). I took part in the search, and in a box I found a box containing some silver sand, a knife bearing metal marks, a small file, copper wire, wash leather, the remains of molten metal, three pieces of grain tin, and two of antimony—I took the prisoners to the station.
Cross-examined by George Spencer. I was in the room a quarter of an hour before I found the antimony.
THOMAS HEYNE . I am a house decorator, of 29, Trinity Street, Barns-bury, and landlord of 11, Francis Street—Mrs. Spencer hired a room there on May 4th—she always paid the rent, 5s. a week—I called there sometimes and saw both prisoners.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of coin to His Majesty's Mint—these five half-crowns are counterfeit, two of them are unfinished—this good half-crown appears to have been used as a mould—these six florins are counterfeit and all from one mould—this coin appears to have been the pattern from which they were made, it bears traces of plaster of Paris—this florin was the pattern piece for the others—here are eight bad shillings, seven from one mould and eight from another, and this seems to be the mould from which the seven were made—I find here tin, antimony and molten metal—that is what they use in making counterfeit coin.
Cross-examined by Isabella Spencer. The file can be used for taking the get out.
The prisoner's statements before the Magistrate: George Spencer says: "They found nothing in my place for making counterfeit coin; I wish the statement put in."—Isabella Spencer says: "I know nothing about it."
George Spencer's defence. "A man came to my house and asked me to take care of the things as his wife was confined. He cannot get a living, and he makes counterfeit coin. My wife knows nothing about it. The metal found in my room and the knife and file is what I use for my work. I have only one leg. I try to get an honest living."
Isabella Spencer's defence. "A man who has had seven years brought these things to my place. He is living with his sister. He is a stranger to me. I am this man's wife. I never lived with anybody else."
GUILTY . Four convictions were proved against GEORGE SPENCER, five years' penal servitude. ISABELLA, eighteen months' hard labour. The Jury commended the police.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
JANE WHEATLEY . I am the wife of Samuel Wheatley, of 34, Myrtle Street, Hoxton—we let furnished apartments—two days before Christmas day I let a room to the prisoner and a woman who I afterwards knew as Brown, as Mr. and Mrs. Hartley—he went out every morning at seven, and she went out later—that is Mr. Hartley and that is Mrs. Brown (Pointing to Brown and Smith, pages 853 and 854)—the man came home about 3 p.m. and used to go out again—he was in the room much more than she was, she was generally out in the day—I have seen Annie Smith going upstairs to their room, and I have seen her with Mrs. Hartley; I saw them go out together on August 16th, and I saw Mr. Hartley at 2 o'clock by himself outside the Bacchus public-house, near my place—I did not see him again that day.
EDWIN GILES (156 N.) On August 16th I was on duty at High Street, Stoke Newington, and about 4.15 I saw the prisoner and the women Brown and Smith alight from a tram car together and turn towards Stamford Hill—I lost sight of them at Church Street—they stood together on my beat, and I followed them off my beat—they stood and looked in a shop and walked slowly towards Stamford Hill—it was broad daylight—I did not see the man again, but I took part in arresting the women—I picked the prisoner out at the station from eight other men—Brown handed me a purse at the station, I opened it, it contained then ten coins.
Cross-examined. There was no one near me—I saw nothing pass between you and the women.
Re-examined. I did not like the look of them and therefore took special notice of them.
EVAN BRUCE EVANS . I am a draper of 66, Stamford Hill Lane—on August 16th, about four p.m., the woman Smith came in for a pair of gloves, price 3 3/4d., and gave me a half-crown—I crushed it up and gave it back to her—it could not be used any more—she paid me with a good half-crown and left—these are the gloves.
bought a brown loaf for 2d. and gave me this half-crown (Produced)—I took no other half-crown that afternoon.
MARY ELIZABETH RINGROSE . I am assistant to Rigden brothers, drapers, at Stamford Hill—on August 16th, about 4.30, the woman Brown came in and gave me a half-crown to pay for a pair of stockings—I took it to Mr. Rigden, one of the partners.
HENRY RIGDEN . I carry on business with my brothers at 36, Stamford Hill—on August 16th the last witness brought me a half-crown—I found it was bad and went out of the shop, saw Brown, and followed her down the bill—she met the prisoner, and they walked together and went to the Weavers' Arms—I spoke to the police.
EMILY FANNY HOOD . I am assistant to Mr. Saltmarsh, of 200, High Street, Stoke Newington—on Saturday afternoon, August 16th, a woman who is at the back of the dock came in and I showed her something, and cut off 2 3/4 yards which came to 4 1/2d.—she gave me a half-crown, it felt rather light, and Mr. Boyles picked it up.
HENRY BOYLES . I am manager to Mr. Saltmarsh—on August 16th I was in the shop and saw Smith being served—I went to where she was and picked up this half-crown—a policeman came in and I gave it to him.
Cross-examined. I did not see you.
ROBERT WILLMORE (339 N.) On August 16th my attention was called to the two females, and I went to the Weavers' Arms and took them in custody—Smith had a basket with a brown roll in it, which I took to Mr. May, and he identified it—a pair of stockings were handed to me at the station and Mr. Rigden identified them.
HENRY DAVIS (Detective Sergeant N.) On August 16th, about 9 p.m., I went to 34, Mercer Street, Hoxton, and searched the top front room—I found this spoon, which was wet and covered with lead, and some plaster of Paris in a bag, some tallow grease wrapped in paper, a file, pincers, and this discoloured stuff—I saw Hartley at Hoxton Station and told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with two other prisoners in uttering eight half-crowns—he said, "I know nothing about it."
GEORGE PRIDE (Detective Sergeant N.) On the night of August 16th, in Bathurst Wharf, Hoxton, near the Bacchus—I told him I should arrest him for being concerned with Brown and Smith in uttering half-crowns in High Street in the afternoon—he said, "You are a b—liar, I was not at Stoke Newington to-day"—I took him to the station—I have Been them together often.
Cross-examined. On July 19th I found at your place in the same room a refiner's melting pot containing metal, a ladle, plaster of Paris, files, metal, and various things used in the manufacture of counterfeit coin, and silver sand, brass filings, and bromide of potassium, but I did not take you in custody because you had not got a mould or any base coin or a battery.
Re-examined. The articles found on July 19th did not come within the Coinage Act, and therefore I did not arrest him.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are all counterfeit and from the same mould—the coins passed by the women are from the same mould as those produced—the saucepan has contained plaster of Paris for mixing for a mould—this discoloured stuff is probably used for drying; these are articles which can be used for innocent purposes but also in the manufacture of counterfeit coin: bromide of potassium is used for silvering.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin. Sine other convictions were proved against him. Four years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 10th. 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
ALICE PADWICK . I am the wife of Henry Padwick of 19, Settle Cottages, Sage Street. Shad well—the deceased was my mother—she was twice married—first of all to a Mr. Burns and then to a Mr. Smith—I was Miss Burns before I was married—my sister's name is Ellen Burns, and I have two children named Maude and Henry, they are five and three years old—my mother lived at 131, Cornwall Street, St. George's-in-the-East—she occupied a back bedroom on the ground floor—my children slept with her in the same bed—since my step-father died my mother slept with her head towards the foot of the bed because she could then put the lamp on the chest of drawers, as she used to read in bed—the children slept the other way in the bed, with their feet towards my mother's—my sister also slept in the same room—Mr. Smith died in May—I have known the prisoner for seven months—he has lodged at my mother's for about that time—he occupied a back room on the first floor—he shared it with a man named Macarthy—that is the top floor—there is only one story to the house—the prisoner used to go to sea now and again—the name of his last ship was the Komoa—when he was not at sea he used to lodge at 131, Cornwall Street—I believe he was going to sea the Saturday following my mother's death—I do not know if he paid any rent for his room—since Mr. Smith's death I have not noticed anything more than friendliness between the prisoner and the deceased—on July 17th I and my mother went to a police fete at the Crystal Palace—we got home about midnight—on the 18th we went home in the evening—the prisoner was in the kitchen—he said to my mother," You have been with the coppers ain't you"—my mother said, "Have we, what has that to do with you"—the prisoner was sober to my knowledge—on July 21 I and my mother went to the Pavilion Theatre—we got back about midnight—I saw the prisoner in the kitchen, sitting on a chest which my step-father used to use when he went to sea—I think he had been drinking in the day but he knew what he was talking about when we got home—he spoke sensibly to us—he said to my mother, "You have been with the coppers again—my mother did not answer him, she only laughed—the prisoner walked upstairs as if he was going to bed,
and I went away home—I saw him again next day about 2 p.m., going along the street—he was going from one public-house to another—about 4 p.m. I saw him coming through Sutton Street, he was going to Ellis's beer-house—I did not speak to him—I think he had been drinking by the looks of him—I did not see him again that night—it was my practice to go to my mother's house about 9.30 every morning, and on July 23rd I went there at that time for my children—I went into the kitchen and then to my mother's bedroom—the door was half open—I saw my two children—Maude was sitting up in bed awake and Henry was asleep—they were both in their usual places at the head of the bed—I noticed some blood at the foot of the bed on the sheet, there were no other clothes on the bed—my mother was lying on the floor, with her head towards the window and her feet towards the head of the bed—I think she had a quilt, a blanket and a sheet round her—I saw blood on her face and chest—I took my children away and put them in the kitchen and shut the door—I called in Mrs. Harris before that—I went to Dr. Habageon—I did not move my mother's body at all—the doctor followed me round—my brother, George Burns, joined the doctor—he was also sleeping in the house in the little off room over the kitchen—I was shown this knife at the inquest (Produced.)—it belonged to my step-father—I believe he gave it to the prisoner—I have seen it in his possession—he used to cut tobacco with it—that is since my step-father died.
Cross-examined. I believe the prisoner had a considerable amount of money when he first left his ship and went to my mother's house—I do not know if he had £28—while he was living in the house he did casual work at the dock—I do not know that he spent his money at public-houses—he was not frequently drunk, he was sometimes—I have often seen him drunk, and especially latterly—he appeared to be friendly disposed towards my mother and myself, and he was very kind to my children.
ANN HARRIS . I am the wife of Robert Harris and lodge in the first floor front room at 131, Cornwall Street—I have been there about eight weeks—I have known the prisoner for about six months—on Monday, July 21st, I went with the deceased and Mrs. Padwick to the Pavilion Theatre—we got back about midnight—I saw the prisoner in the kitchen—he said to the deceased, "You have been after the coppers again"—she did not say anything—next day about 7.30 p.m. I was in the yard—I saw the prisoner and the deceased in the kitchen—he was sitting on a box, and she was sitting on the chair by the fire—I do not know if they were talking—I and the deceased went into the Railway Arms about 7.30 p.m.—the prisoner followed us in—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk then, "he was jolly in drink—the deceased had some drink and gave the prisoner a glass of ale—the deceased and I were sitting down together, the prisoner had his back against the partition—he pulled this knife (Produced) from his pocket, it was open when he took it out—he said to the deceased, "Are you going out to-night"—she said "No"—he asked her the same question again and she said "No"—then he closed the knife, drank up his ale and walked out—when he asked her if she was going out that night
the knife was lying open in his open hand—we did not remain long in the public house after the prisoner had left—I did not see him again that night—he had been in the public-house about ten minutes—next morning about 9.30 I heard Mrs. Padwick call—up to that time I had not heard any unusual sounds in the house—I went into the bedroom and saw the deceased lying on the floor—I did not see or hear the prisoner that morning—on the ground floor the deceased slept with her daughter Ellen and two grandchildren—nobody slept in the front ground room that night—in the first floor back room the deceased's son, George Burns, slept, he was alone as far as I know—in the front room there was myself, my niece, and my children. Macarthy slept with the prisoner in the other back room.
Cross-examined. There was nobody else in the public-house when the deceased, the prisoner, and myself were there—he was not smoking then—I do not know if he had been—he used to use the knife to cut tobacco—I have seen him the worse for drink on several occasions—I saw him on the 20th—he was not drunk then, he had been drinking—he was not drunk when he left the public-house on the 21st; he could walk straight—while he was lodging at the house I saw him every day.
Re-examined. As far as I could see he was not drunk when he produced the knife in the public-house.
GEORGE BURNS . I live at 131, Cornwall Street—I occupy the little room at the back on the first floor—when I came back from South Africa on Easter Tuesday I found the prisoner lodging in my mother's house—on July 22nd I saw the prisoner in the kitchen about 7 p.m.—he was sitting in a chair—he fell off the chair on to the floor—he had been asleep—he lay down on the floor, and I went out—I do not know how long he stayed on the floor—I was in the kitchen about ten minutes—he was lying asleep on the ground for that time—I do not know what condition he was in—I did not speak to him—I did not see him again that night—I was called by my sister, Mrs. Padwick, between 10 and 10.30 p.m.—up to that time I had heard nothing unusual—I went into my mother's room and assisted the doctor to move my mother's body from the bed.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner tumbled off the chair on the 22nd I do not know if he was drunk—I thought he was a bit drunk—I had seen him drunk on the nights before—I do not know if he and my mother were on friendly terms—I was at work—they always seemed good friends.
CHARLES MCCARTHY . I am a stevedore and live at 131, Cornwall Street—I know the prisoner—for about a fortnight before the death of the deceased I occupied the same bedroom as the prisoner—the deceased was my sister—on July 22nd I got home about 10.30 p.m.—I then went into the Railway Arms—I saw the prisoner there—he was drinking ale—I had some drink-when I left the public-house about 12 p.m. I left the prisoner behind in the house—he was about half drunk—I went home, and about 12.30 the prisoner came in with the deceased—she had been in the public-house for about half an hour—she had a glass of ale there—when I left, I left her there—she and the prisoner seemed pretty sociable together—when they came home they sat down and had something to eat together—I left them
there and went up to bed about 12.45—I did not notice anything strange about them—the deceased was sober—there was nothing to drink for supper—the prisoner came up to bed about one or a little later—he took his jacket off and kept his shirt, trousers, and boots on, and lay down on his bed—I went to sleep—I woke up about 2.30 a.m.—the prisoner was not in the room—he generally took off his things when he went to bed—I went to the water-closet, and to get there I had to pass the kitchen door—I did not take a light with me—there was a lamp burning in the passage, and I saw the prisoner lying on a chest in the kitchen—with the aid of a chair he could make a lie down on it—I thought he was asleep—I did not speak to him—I went back to bed—at 5.15 a.m. the deceased called me as usual by calling up the stairs—I did not get up at once, I dozed off again, and the prisoner came in and woke me about 6 or 6.10—he was dressed in the same way as he had been when I saw him in the kitchen—when the deceased called me the prisoner was not in the room—when he woke me I said, "What time is it?"—he said, "Six or 10 past; ain't you going to turn to? '—I said, "Yes, I will turn out"—he said, "I have been down in the yard and had a good sluish, and am going to have a lay down; I have got plenty of time to lay down before I sign; I do not want to get down before 10 o'clock, so there is plenty of time for me"—he was going to sign on a ship, I think—he was a boatswain—I got up and walked into the yard—he went to bed—I did not stop to see if he undressed—I got back again about 9.30.
Cross-examined. It was very"unusual for him to go down and sleep on the chest—I had never known him to do it before.
By the COURT. He did not look stupid when he woke me at six—he looked nice and fresh—he had had a good sluish—I think what drink he had had overnight he had got clear of.
ELLEN BURNS . I live at 131, Cornwall Street, and am the deceased's daughter—I slept in the same bed with her, with a nephew and niece of mine—I slept at the same end of the bed as the children—my mother slept the other way with her feet towards me in order to get the light to read by—on July 23rd I got up about 7.30 a.m.—I heard someone come down-stairs—I thought it was the prisoner by his walk—it sounded as if the person had no boots on—he went into the kitchen, and I thought he went to the side-board where the knife tray is kept—then he went upstairs—I went out to work about 7.55—I said good-bye to my mother, and left her and the two children in bed—about 10.30 I was fetched back again to the house.
Cross-examined. I did not see the man who came downstairs—there was no creeping or secrecy—my mother's brother was sleeping upstairs at that time—I have seen the prisoner drunk once or twice.
Re-examined. I do not know what time my mother's brother left the house.
PHILIP ELLIS . I am the landlord of the Railway Arms, Sutton Street, which is about fifty yards from Cornwall Street—I have known the prisoner on and off for three or four years—the deceased and her husband during his lifetime have been customers of mine—on Tuesday, July 22nd, the
prisoner came in with the deceased and Mrs. Harris—the prisoner left about 10.30 p.m.—the females did not stop there all the time, they were there off and on—about 7.30 I see the prisoner with a knife in his hand, but I did not take much notice because it is the usual custom for seafaring men to cut their tobacco with a knife—the knife was open—the prisoner was standing facing the deceased—the females left at 12.17—on July 23rd the prisoner came in between 8 and 8.30 a.m.—he was fully dressed—he asked for a glass of ale, which I gave him—he asked for another, which I gave him—then he asked for a sub.—I knew he was going to sign on his ship, and I gave him 6d.—it would have been returned to me by the deceased, who would also have paid for the drink out of the prisoner's advance note—he said 6d. was not enough, as he wanted to get some breakfast, and he did not want to wake Mog up, meaning the deceased—I gave him a second 6d., and he left the house—he was in the house about eight minutes—he was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. I should not dream of serving a man who was not perfectly sober—there were other people in the house when the prisoner came in in the morning, but not in the same bar.
HERBERT CROSS (524 City.) At 10.55 on July 23rd, I was in Arthur Street, W.—I saw the prisoner, his manner was peculiar, he was walking up and down in a strange manner, he was fully dressed—I said to him, "What is up, my boy," he said "I can tell you something"—I touched him on the arm and asked him to walk up the street—several people got round, we walked up the street several yards—he then said, "I am a murderer, I murdered my wife this morning"—I walked up into Cannon Street with him, I asked him where he had murdered his wife, he would not tell me—I walked up Martin's Lane with him, he wanted to go towards London Bridge—I said, "You must come with me"—I got hold of his arm, he began to pull away towards London Bridge—I called another constable to come and assist me—we took the prisoner to the station, he tried to throw us to the ground—at the station he produced this knife from his right-hand trousers pocket, and said, "This is what I did it with at 131, Cornwall Street, E."—nothing had been said to him, he was cautioned by the station inspector, and he then said, "I did it, I have done for her"—inquiries were made, it was found to be correct, he was taken to Shadwell and charged—when I saw him in the street I thought he had recovered from a good drinking bout the night before, and had had one or two half-pints the same morning, and that he had something on his mind—he spoke rationally, he had a strange look.
Cross-examined. I have seen men recovering from drinking bouts, and he resembled (hose men—I went up to him to question him as to his mind.
JOHN PICKETT (Inspector H.) On July 23rd, about 1 p.m. I went to Cloak Lane Police Station, where I found the prisoner detained; I said to him, "I understand you have given yourself up for murder; I must caution you, as you will be charged; "he replied, "Right, I gave myself up because I done it"; he was taken to Shadwell Station and charged; he made no
reply to the charge—on July 29th, he was taken to the inquest on the body of the deceased, and on the way back to the police court he said, "I owed the old girl £16, but I have made a statement up above about it"—those are his exact words—I did not question him about that, because he seemed as if he did not want to say anything more about it.
Cross-examined.—I thought he seemed to be recovering from a very heavy drinking bout, when I saw him at the station at 1 o'clock he seemed very ill.
ALFRED GOULD (Detective-Sergeant H.) On July 23rd, I was at Shad well Police Station; about 1.30 I saw the prisoner there; he was dressed in an ordinary suit—I examined his shirt, on the front of it and on the right sleeve I found what appeared to be spots of blood; it was wet with water, as if an attempt had been made to obliterate the spots—the whole of his clothing was submitted to Dr. Grant on the 24th with this knife—the Komoa was about to sail on the 24th—the practice on that line was for the men to sign on on board.
Cross-examined. The prisoner appeared to be recovering from a drinking bout.
By the JURY. He appeared to be rational when he spoke.
ERNEST THOMAS HABERGEON . I am a registered medical practioner of 273, Cable Street—about 9.30 on July 23rd, I was called by Mrs. Padwick to 131, Cornwall Street—I went to a room on the ground floor, and found the deceased lying on the floor—she was quite dead, the body had a chemise on: around the lower part were the bedclothes—it was lying alongside the bed with the head towards the window—I placed the body on the bed—I saw blood on the chemise and bed clothes; blood had been issuing from the nose, and there was a clot on the floor beneath the neck—I should think she had been dead about an hour, parts of the body were warm—next day I made a post-mortem examination—the body was that of a strongly-built well-developed woman, the organs were fairly healthy, with the exception of a slight fatty degeneration of the heart—I found five wounds, one a stab over the region of the heart in the second intercostal space, with a bruise outside it, the stab being some 3 1/2 inches deep—I came to the conclusion that that was the first injury which had been inflicted—I think the cause of death was shock, occasioned by that stab—the second wound was upon the right side of the neck, between the lobe of the ear and the joint between the breast and collar bones, two inches deep; it wounded the external jugular vein—the third wound was on the right shoulder blade 2 3/4 inches deep; the fourth on the right side, and wounded the right lung slightly, passed the fifth rib and slightly wounded the liver, it was 3 1/2 inches deep—the fifth wound was in the seventh intercostal space on the right side, and in the diaphragm, and about four inches deep—those wounds could have been inflicted by this knife, and must have been inflicted with very great violence indeed; there was a cut in the chemise—I did not examine the bed-clothes.
Cross-examined. Death would follow almost immediately after the wound in the heart: the other wounds would have been entirely unnecessary.
By the COURT. I do not think she could make any noise; there might be a gurgle, but no crying out.
----GRANT. The prisoner's clothing was handed to me for examination, on his trousers I found a woman's hair, and similar in colour to the deceased's—I found a stain on the shirt button, and came to the conclusion that it was blood, and there had been an attempt to wash away blood from the upper part of the waistcoat—I found blood in the nail slit of the knife blade—I examined the bed clothes which were round the deceased—there were holes in them; very great violence must have been used; the injuries were deeper than the length of the knife—I think she was asleep when she was stabbed—I think she rolled over or her side, then received the other blows, and probably completed the turn and rolled on to the floor—if she had been awake, she would have made an effort to defend herself, her hands were not cut, but were covered with blood—I presume she placed her hand over the first wound inflicted.
GUILTY of manslaughter. Twelve years' penal servitude.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. JENKINS Defended.
During the progress of the case the prisoner stated that he would plead guilty to negligence and to being drunk, which resulted in his setting fire to the barn where the deceased zoos asleep, and the Jury therefore returned a verdict of GUILTY . Six months' in the second division.
MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(586) FREDERICK LOWRIE (42) , to wounding Margaret Lowrie with intent to do her grievous bodily harm. Former convictions were proved against him, including assaults on his wife. Seven years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(587) WALTER GEORGE BREWER (24) and JOHN HENRY KEMP (23) , to stealing four dead fowls. Kemp having been before convicted. Other convictions were proved against Kemp. BREWER, Six months' hard labour; KEMP, Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. METCALFE prosecuted.
MICHAEL JAMES CAREY . I am employed on the ss. Orient, and belong to the United States—my ship arrived in the Victoria Docks last Friday—at 12.45 a.m. on September 6th I was in Victoria Dock Road, at a coffee-stall—I treated two others—the prisoner and another man came up—the prisoner said, "This man has a quid, we will take it off him"—I was going to walk away when the prisoner grabbed me round my neck—I slipped through his arm and lost my hat—he tore my coat sleeve off—I ran away, and he followed—we met a policeman and we stopped, and I gave prisoner into custody.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You ran down the road after me.
ROBERT FRISBY (378 K). I met the prisoner and Carey in Victoria Dock Road—Carey said, "This man tried to rob me; he put his arm round me and went down into my pocket; but he did not rob me, as I had my money in my other pocket"—he showed me his torn sleeve—the prisoner made no reply, and I took him—he was charged at the station, and made no reply—he had been drinking, but was sufficiently sober to know what he was doing—I have seen him before, but not lately—I saw three other men near when the prisoner and Carey were struggling—they ran away.
Cross-examined. Carey said to me, "This is one of the men."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate."I am not guilty of the charge. I have no witnesses to call; I never saw the man in my life before."
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath said that he was a fireman and saw the men run away, and the police officer stopped him and said to Carey, "Is this the man?"that Carey said "Yes," that he was within five minutes' wall: of his home; that he had been two years and seven months in South Africa; that he did not see a struggle between the men; that Carey was with the constable when he got up to them; and that he had not been to the coffee-stall.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
SIDNEY ALEWYN REES . I am a solicitor's clerk of 25, Leonard Street, Pimlico—On January 9th, while living at 5, Gillingham Street, I went to the Alhambra, where I met the prisoner—we left about 11.30 and then supped together, and as he had a long way to get home I took him to my lodgings;—on arriving there I found a withdrawal warrant for me from the Post-Office Savings Bank—I told the prisoner I was out of a berth, and had just taken two pounds out of the post office—I put the warrant and book in the pocket of my coat, which I put over the back of an arm-chair, and went to sleep—I awoke about nine next morning, when the prisoner had gone, and also the book and warrant—I went to the post office at Vauxhall, where they refused information, but I subsequently found the warrant
had been cashed—this is not my signature (Produced)—I received this telegram just before I left for the post office, "Found I had your book will meet you at Victoria Station to-morrow at one o'clock"—I went and waited two hours—on January 14th I received my book in this envelope with a note inside saying that it was found in the street—I next met the prisoner about July 19th in Victoria Street at 10 a.m.—he gave a side look to see if I was coming after him—no doubt he had spotted me before—I turned round and tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Hallo! You are a bit of a sneak to take my book after giving you a night's lodging"—he said, "I have written to you twice and have been looking for you every-where"—I had not received any letter from him—I asked him where he was working—he said, "At the same place"—I said, "Why are you going this way, then?"—I thought he was working in Moorgate Street—he said he was going up to Oxford Street—I said, "I will walk with you a little way, "which I did—I said if he admitted it, and said he had taken it. I would not do anything—he absolutely denied taking the book—I said, "I suppose you admit taking the withdrawal form?"—he said "No; I never took the withdrawal form"—soon after he admitted seeing the withdrawal form, and said, "I didn't understand what you said just now about the withdrawal form; I didn't take it"—I said, "What did you want to sneak out so early in the morning for?"—he said. "I called you twice and you said' sit still'"—we came up to a policeman, and I gave him in charge—he said to the constable, "I have never seen the man in my life before."
EDITH LAXON CHAMBERLAIN . I am proprietress of the Women's London Gardening Association, Lower Sloane Street—the prisoner came to me last April for a situation, and wrote his name and address and this reference on these two envelopes—he gave 168, High Holborn as the referee's address—I wrote, and received this type-written reply—I took it as genuine, and engaged him.
WINIFRED MAY MILLS . I am a telegraphist at the post office, 328, Vauxhall Bridge Road—early on January 10th someone I cannot identify brought this book and warrant to the office—he signed the warrant, and I paid him £2.
JAMES BARNES (261 B.) I saw the prisoner in Wilton Road—the prosecutor called me across and said, "I am going to give this man, Steward, into your custody for stealing about six months ago, at 5, Gillingham Street, a book and warrant"—I said, "You hear what this gentleman says?"—he said "Yes"—as I took him he said, "Policeman, I know nothing about the charge, nor have I ever seen the man before in my life"—he gave me this address, which I saw him write.
JOSEPH GEORGE STEVENS . I have been clerk in the Secretary's office, General Post Office, for sixteen years—it is my duty to examine handwriting—the writing on the envelopes corresponds in my opinion with the prisoner's admitted handwriting, also with that on the telegraph form and the warrant—there are three s's—it is rather an unusualloop—the little son the warrant in "Rees "corresponds—it is more like an unfinished "o"—of course an attempt had to be made to make the signature in the warrant
resemble that in the book—if it had resembled the writing on the telegraph form no doubt the money would not have been paid—I am satisfied it is not Rees' signature.
JAMES WALKER (Constable). I have been to 168, High Holborn, from which this recommendation purports to be written—it is a house of call for letters to be sent—no business is carried on in the name of Brown nor is the name known.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I had never seen the man who charged me before last Saturday."
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that while he was in Mrs. Chamberlain's employ he used to visit good houses to attend to the plants, and had ample opportunity to commit thefts if he desired; that he was not in want of money, as he had 18s. a week from the "Chichester Chronicle," and that he could honestly say he had never seen the prosecutor before.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth. Three months' imprisonment in the second division.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday and Thursday, September 10th and 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
593. JOHN SMITH (62) , PLEADED GUILTY to robbery with violence on Henry Giles, and stealing a watch and chain, his property, and also to a conviction of felony at the South London Sessions in September," 1898, in the name of John Collins. Five other convictions were proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted, and MR. CRANSTOUN Defended.
ELIZABETH BROWN . I live at 93, Burnie Street, Stepney—on Friday, July 11th, a little after midnight, I was in the Commercial Road, near Limehouse Church, with Henriksen, a sailor—Jones put his foot out and tripped the sailor over on the ground, and kicked him in the face—I screamed—Jones punched me in the face—he snatched the sailor's watch and chain, and ran away—Curwin was there—he ran away—the police came up—the sailor was drunk—they were brought up one at a time—I said they were the two men.
Cross-examined. My exact words were, "That is the man that done it"—I had met Henriksen, the sailor, just outside the Eastern Hotel, in the Commercial Road—he had asked me to have a drink, and I went—in with him—I did not know him—I had not seen him before—it was just before 12.30—another woman was there—I believe her name is Annie Wood—she had another sailor—I went up to speak to her, and the sailor caught hold of my arm—I did not tell the Magistrate that I was a prostitute
—I signed my deposition—it was read over—that is a mistake—I have been a prostitute, but I was not one—the Magistrate put me down as married as well—I did not take the sailor home, he took me—he was almost hopelessly drunk—we stood on the pavement—I was going to cross by the church—there is a turning into Three Colt Street—there were five or six men all more or less noisy—when the sailor was tripped up we had just crossed over—then I was struck on my face by Jones, and I screamed—then the sailor's watch and chain were snatched, and the prisoners ran—I fell on my hands and knees from Jones' blow—I got up in time to see them run—I saw Jones taking the watch—I had never seen the prisoners before—Annie Woods was in the middle of the road with the other sailor—all the men ran away—the police held one prisoner in each hand—one of the chaps caught Woods by the throat, and punched her in the chest—Annie Woods' husband refused to let her go as a witness—when the police were going to take the prisoners I did not say, "Do not take them, because I cannot remember whether they are the two men"—the police did not take hold of a man named Mike in my presence—the sailor I was with got seven days for being drunk and disorderly—I never noticed anybody with white cord trousers—I said to Woods, "Annie, come on, you were there,"but her husband pulled her back—she was coming, but her husband would not let her—coming from Arbour Square I met Annie Wood—she said, "How did you get on?"—I said, "They are remanded"—she said, "A good job, too!" the police said, '"Why didn't you come?" and she said, "My husband would not let me"—I did not hear anything said about "We will have somebody, whether the right one or not"—Curvin ran with Jones—about half-a-dozen men ran away together towards the turning in Three Colt Street.
Re-examined. I have never said that I was not sure the prisoners were the men.
ERNEST FARBY (346 K) Early on Saturday, July 12th, I was with Renacre near Limehouse Church—I heard some one scream "Police!"—I saw the prisoners running away—we followed—I took hold of Jones—he said that two sailors and two women had knocked him down and taken all his money—I took him back, and saw Elizabeth Brown—she said, "That is the man who knocked him down, stole his watch and chain, and robbed him and kicked him, and struck me"—I searched Jones at the station, and found on him 22s. 0 1/2d.
Cross-examined. This is my note (Produced)—I have made enquiries and find that the prisoners are employed by the Anglo-American Oil Company; Curvin for some years—he supports his mother—Jones was employed by the Lancaster Starch Works, Bromley, four or five years, and left to better himself, and has been with the Anglo-American Oil Company about three months—they had received their wages, 30s., on the evening in question—Brown stated a few minutes after my seeing her that Jones kicked the sailor, and then struck her—she repeated it at the station—I caught Jones in fifty to seventy yards in Three Colt Street—
his cap was on—I never let go of him—I told him he would be charged with assaulting the sailor and robbing him—he did not say, "I have not"—the prosecutor was convicted of being drunk.
ERNEST RENACRE (265 K.) A little after twelve on this night I heard a cry of "Police "near Limehouse Church—I observed three men running down the road—I ran after them, and took Curvin by the hand—he was holding this bar of a chain in his hand—I said, "Come on, I want you"—he said, "All right, governor; I—will come with you; I did not kick him "'—I had not said anything about kicking—I searched him at the station, and found a half sovereign, 9s. in silver, and 1s. 1 1/2d. in bronze—I was present when the charge was read over to him, and this bar produced and shown to him—he said, "I think the young girl has made a mistake"—Inspector Russell entered the property in the property book.
Cross-examined. There were about a dozen people when I came up—Jones ran to Three Colt Street and Curvin to St. Ann Street, in opposite directions—Curvin was not coming back when I arrested him—I said, "I want you to come back with me; it will be all right"—he said, "All right governor, I will come back"—I did not know him—he did not ask me what it was for—the prosecutor was drunk and unable to identify him at the station—Jones was crying very much at the station; he began to cry when arrested.
HANS HENRIKSEN . I was a seaman on board the ship "Haffsgard," which was moored at the Surrey buoys—on this Saturday morning I was with Elizabeth Brown—I was not sober—I remember that I was knocked down and kicked in the jaw—I was wearing a watch and metal chain—they were taken from me—a bar like this produced was on the chain.
Cross-examined. I went into the Eastern public-house with the woman Brown.
HENRY RUSSELL (Police Inspector). I was in charge of Limehouse Police Station when the prisoners were brought in—I produce the charge-sheet—they were charged with being concerned together in feloniously assaulting Hans Henriksen, and robbing him of a watch and chain, also with assaulting Elizabeth Brown—I took a note of what was found on them—on Curvin was found 9s. in silver, 1s. 0 1/2d. bronze, and this metal cross-bar—the bar was shown to Curvin—he stood by my side.
Cross-examined. The bar was put on the desk—the property found was entered in a book.
JONES, in his defence on oath, said that he went to see what the row was and was knocked down, but that he had nothing to do with the assault. CURVIN, in his defence on oath, made a similar statement; they both received good characters, and were stated to have been employed by the Anglo-American Oil Company, from whom they had on the Friday received their wages.
Evidence for the Defence.
PATRICK SHEEN . I have been employed by the Anglo-American Oil Company for ten years—I am twenty-eight years of age—my two mates were arrested on July 30th—I was with them in the Star public-house—after arranging with the foreman for the following week's work we went
to the Cape of Good Hope public-house—we called our friend Clarke in, and remained till 12.25—the prisoners and Clarke and I came out together, stood on the pavement awhile, then crossed to Limehouse Church side, and said good-night at the corner of Lime Street—I went towards home leaving the prisoners there.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOSES Prosecuted.
JAMES DEARMAN . I am a brick-maker, of 37, Ordnance Road, Hounslow—on August 9th, the Coronation day, about 8 a.m., I was crossing the Militia Fields, Hounslow—I had been with the prisoner till seven o'clock in a coffee-shop, where he saw I had money—when I met him at eight o'clock he knocked me down, not saying a word—he then said, "I am mad; give me your money or I will stab you"—he had this clasp knife in his hand—the blade was open—he took 10s. out of my pocket in four 2s. pieces and two shillings—before he let me go he stabbed me in the chest through my two shirts, and cut my skin—I went for assistance, and returned with my brother to the prisoner—he struck my brother with the knife—my brother hit him, and he ran away—I had seen the prisoner the night before—he had only a penny in his hand—we were good friends till he attacked me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You had not shown me £14 in gold and 22s. in silver at 2.30 on August 8th—I did not ask you what you were doing with £13, nor gamble with you—I never took 11s. 6d. out of your hand—my brother struck you on your neck with a piece of wood from a fence—then you ran home—I had a silver watch and chain on.
GEORGE DEARMAN . I am the prosecutor's brother—on August 9th, about 8.5 a.m., he called me—his vest was open—in consequence of what he told me I went to the prisoner and asked him what he had stabbed my brother for, and for the money he had taken from him in the Recreation Ground, that is the Militia Fields—he said nothing—he tried to stab me with this knife—I pulled a piece of wood out of the fence and struck him on the left side of his neck—I had seen silver in my brother's possession that morning in a coffee shop.
Cross-examined. I had not seen you and my brother gambling—I did not see you after 8.15.
THOMAS TAYLOR (Detective Sergeant T.) I saw the prosecutor at the station about 9.30 on August 9th—his shirt and under-vest were cut through—he had a slight superficial wound about 2 1/2 inches long on his right breast—he gave me information, and I saw the prisoner making towards Hounslow Railway Station about 4.45 p.m.—I said, "You answer the description of a man named Hope"—he said, "Yes, my name is Hope"—I said, "I am going to take you into custody for assaulting a man, robbing him of 10s., and stabbing him with a pocket knife"—he said
"It was my own money, my brother and landlady saw it, I can prove that I showed it to them the night before, two or three of them tried to get it away from me"—I took him to the station—on being charged he said, "Whose money was it")—the prosecutor said "Mine"—the prisoner said, "No it was not"—the prosecutor then described the occurrence in the field, and mentioned that the prisoner ran away, and left his hat behind—I asked the prosecutor what became of the prisoner, and he said that after knocking about he fell, and then rushed and got one or two scratches on the right side of his neck, and that he hit him with a piece of wood pulled off the fence—the prisoner said, "Is there any blood on the knife? "I was going away from Hounslow, and shall when I get the chance"—I found on him four florins, Is., and this knife and purse.
Cross-examined. You were detained at the station while the prosecutor was found, probably two hours—you had a deal to say about general matters, but not about the case—I gave you some cigarettes—you have been helped by the Wesleyans since you came out from penal servitude—you got a situation and got drunk and left it.
Evidence for the Defence.
THOMAS HOPE . I am a gunner in the Royal Field Artillery, and am the prisoner's brother—I was with Bill Clark when my brother showed me £13 10s., and Dearman was with my brother on August 2nd—I saw my brother and James Dearman on the early morning of August 9th—my brother produced 13s. 1d.—I had 1d. to get cigarettes.
The prisoner in his defence stated that though he had disgraced himself by getting drunk he was not guilty of the offence.— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Guildhall, Westminster, on April 8th, 1899. Other convictions were proved against him, including seven for felony. Twelve months' hard labour.
597. MICHAELO RISPOLI, CRISUGE FARIELLO, VINCENZO GERRALI, ALBORGHETTI BOTTISTA , and ANDREA RISPOLI , Assaulting Henry Garrard and occasioning him actual bodily harm. FARIELLO was also charged with an assault on Harry Dewson and Frank Harris , and with unlawfully wounding James How; and MICHAELO RISPOLI with unlawfully wounding Albert Driscoll.
MR. C. MATHEWS and MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted; MR. RANDOLPH appeared for Michaelo, and Andrea Rispoli, and MR. CLARKE HALL for Fariello, Gerrali and Bottista.
King's Cross—I worked at a fringer's, but have left to better myself—on Sunday, July 6th, I was crossing Argyle Place, King's Cross, between 8 and 9 p.m.—I saw five Italians driving in a cart—four of them are prisoners here—Bottista was not in the cart—the cart stopped opposite the Wellington public-house—they took the horses out, put them in the stable, and pulled the cart into a yard with open wooden gates which they shut—Michaelo came out of the yard and talked to some children in the middle of the road in English—I crossed the road to speak to a boy—Michaelo said to me, "Sling your f—g hook, I know you"—I said. "Perhaps you do"—I know him by seeing him—Gerrali came out of the yard and ran after me—I ran away—I came back a little while afterwards—the gates were shut—a little while after I saw Michaelo go up to some gates in Whitbourne Buildings—some children were there—Baldree was standing on the border of the kerb with Tory—Michaelo went and spoke to them—they were young chaps—Gerrali came out of the yard and kicked at Baldree—Andrea came up and wanted to fight Tory—Tory said he did not want to fight—someone said, "One has got a knife"—one of the English chaps pulled off a belt—when the Italians saw that they flew into the yard where the horses and cart were—the chap had the belt in his hand—the Italians came out of the yard with a broom, a pitchfork and a long piece of iron (Produced)—Andrea had the iron, Fariello the broom, and Gerrali the pitchfork—they ran after the people, hitting anybody—a police whistle was going—Garrard went up in plain clothes and arrested Andrea in the carriage way, and some of them got hold of Garrard by his neck and dragged him into the yard and shut the door—the men ran from the Wellington public-house in the doorway—the police went in and the door was shut.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. There were not many people about when the cart came but a lot came afterwards—they had boxes in the van as if they had been out for the day enjoying Sunday—the youngsters were not hanging on, but were pushing the van—the Italians asked them to go away—I did not see any child struck—one of the Englishmen said, "What did you hit the child for?"—there were more English than Italians—I have seen Garrard go into the police station—I did not see any knife.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I was there till the Italians were arrested—I never saw Bottista—I have said. "A crowd collected because the Italians and chaps were going to fight"—that was the reason—I know no one who was hit—they were hitting anybody—they ran toward Winchester Street and Windmill Street—the Englishmen rushed from the pitchfork and the police came—they were clearing the people.
Re-examined. Women and girls were there—I saw a girl crying after they bagged Garrard.
GEORGE TORY . I am a carman—about 9 p.m., on July 6th, I was in Whitbourne Street with Baldree and Irwin, and saw a number of Italians at the stables—Gerali came up in a drunken condition, and kicked Baldree on his leg—Adrea Rispoli and another man tried to hold him back—Michaelo Rispoli then came up and said he would fight me—I said I did not wish to fight—he then pulled out a knife from his light hand coat
pocket and I ran away—as I ran I saw some other Italians come out of the stable yard with a broom, a pitchfork, and a bar of iron—I went back to the yard with a constable and saw Garrard in the yard on the ground, and two men holding him—I was then pushed out of the yard into the crowd.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. I did not see Michaelo Rispoli open the knife—there was a general row between the English and Italians.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. Fariello was trying to prevent a fight—he said, "Do not fight."
THOMAS MURPHY, M.D . I am divisional surgeon of police—on the evening of this occurrence I examined Garrard and Howell—Garrard had two small superficial lacerated wounds on the back of his head, Howell had a small superficial lacerated wound on the left side of his forehead.
SIDNEY BALDREE . I was with Tory—Gerali kicked at me, and Michaelo Rispoli said, "I will fight you"—Tory said he did not wish to fight, and Michaelo Rispoli brought out a Knife—some other Italians came out of the stable yard with a broom, an iron bar, and a pitckfork, and we ran away.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. I saw the knife open in his hand—there was no suggestion of fighting from our side—there was a row about some children—I did not see any belts used by the English—I never wear a belt—there was a general row going on.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I heard Fariello say. "Do not fight."
HARRY JUSON . I am a carman, of Whitbourne Buildings—on July 6th, at 9 p.m., I was inside the Wellington public-house with Driscoll and Harris, and heard a row outside—we came out, and I was struck by Fariello with this iron bar (Produced)—Michaelo Rispoli then stabbed Driscoll with a knife—I took him to the hospital, and went to the station and identified Fariello and Michaelo Rispoli.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. We had not said or done anything to the Italians—we heard a row and went outside the public-house to see what was the matter.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I am quite sure Fariello was the man who struck me.
ALBERT DRISCOLL . I am a beer bottler—on July 6th, at 9 p.m., I was with Juson and Harris, and heard a row outside the Wellington public-house—I came out and saw Michaelo Rispoli and Fariello—I also saw one man with a broom, another with a pitchfork, and a third with an iron bar—I cannot recognise them—I saw Michaelo Rispoli flourishing a knife, and I got stabbed in the loin—I was taken to the hospital, where I was detained until July 8th.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. I should say that the things were used probably to frighten the people away—there was a crowd there, principally Englishmen—I do not think Rispoli intended to stab me.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I cannot say which had the broom, which had the fork, and which had the bar.
Re-examined. I had a belt on, and there was a mark on it where the Knife went.
on July 7th I examined Driscoll and found a punctured wound in his left loin about two inches deep and one inch wide at the surface, such as would be caused by a sharp instrument.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. It was not dangerous.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. I can only recognise Fariello.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. After I was struck I saw Fariello run across the road with the iron bar in his hand.
HENRY GARRARD (Detective E.) On July 6th, about 9 p.m., I was standing at the corner of Liverpool and Manchester Streets and heard cries of "murder "and "police "from the direction of Whitbourne Street—I went there and saw Michaelo Rispoli with a knife in his right hand Fariello with an iron bar, Gerali with a fork, and Andrea Rispoli with a broom—Bottista had nothing—he was hanging behind—I seized Michaelo Rispoli by his right hand, when I was immediately surrounded by the other Italians—Bottista seized me by my collar and I was dragged into the stable-yard—I was then struck by Fariello across my shoulders and on my head with the iron bar, and across my back with the fork by Gerali—I was held by Michaelo Rispoli and Bottista—with Millington's assistance I got Michaelo Rispoli out into the street—Fariello and Gerali followed me out, still striking me—I had to release Michaelo, and arrested Fariello, and handed him over to another constable—I then went back into the yard with other constables and re-arrested Michaelo—Andrea was also arrested—we then searched the stables, and found Bottista and Gerali upstairs in the bedroom.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. Andrea did not strike me, he helped to drag me into the yard—I am quite sure I saw Michaelo with a knife—I have known the Rispolis as respectable, hard-working men—there is nothing else against them—I do not know that the English young men in the neighbourhood are in the habit of playing jokes on the Italians.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I did not see Bottista strike any blow and he had nothing in his hand—so far as I know they have all borne good characters.
JAMES HOWELL . I am a harness cleaner—I was in the Wellington public-house and heard children screaming outside—I looked outside the door and saw the two Rispolis struggling with Garrard, and I went to his assistance—I did not see a knife—I saw a broom and an iron bar and a fork—I was struck on my head with something, and my face and handkerchief were smothered with blood—Millington came to our assistance, and we got Michaelo out of the yard.
ANDREW MILLINGTON . I am a revolving shutter maker—I was outside the Wellington public-house and saw all the prisoners—there were some children playing there, and Fariello said to them, "Go away, you f—" I told him it was not right to talk to children like that—he said something in Italian to the others, and they came out with different implements
—Fariello had a broom, another had an iron bar, and Bottista had an knife in his right hand—Andrea Rispoli had a knife or an ice-pricker in his hand—I saw nothing in Michaelo's hand—they all came out of the yard, a police whistle was blown, Garrard came up, and he was surrounded and dragged into the yard, and the gate was shut—Howell and I burst it open—Michaelo had hold of the detective's throat—I got hold of Michaelo's. scarf, and he then let go of Garrard.
Cross-examined by MR. RANDOLPH. I meant that Michaelo had a knife in his hand before Garrard went into the yard—there were three knives—I said at the police court that there were two—I was not asked there about the third knife.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I said at the police court that Bottista had a Swedish knife in his hand.
Michaelo Rispoli, in his defence on oath, said that he returned to the stables with his horse and van, and that whilst he and his brother and Gerali and Fariello were putting the van in, some children got on the back of it, and he told them to go away, but they threw stones and insulted them; that they then drew the van inside and shut the gate, and someone came up and pushed it open, and said he wanted to fight; that a lot of people then came into the yard, and Fariello and Gerali took up the implements to frighten the people out of the yard; and that he had no knife on him.
Witnesses for Michaelo Rispoli.
THOMAS WILLIAM THOMPSON . I am foreman of a bottled beer ware-house, and live over the stables where the Italians put their horses up—I was looking out of my window and saw some young fellows get on to the back of the cart to prevent the Italians from pulling it in—one of the men took off his belt and slashed at the Italians—the Italians picked up the broom and other things and the young fellows ran away—I saw no knife used—the police came up, and they were all taken to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. STEPHENSON. I cannot say whether Garrard was pushed into the yard or not.
JAMES WILDER . I am an artist and designer, of 44, Stanmore Street, Caledonian Road—I heard a police whistle blown and went out and saw a crowd of people—some of them had sticks, and I saw one of the Italians; struck on the neck—they were then in custody.
Andrea Rispoli, in his defence on oath, said that he was with his brother Michaelo and tried to defend himself with the broom, as there were a lot of people in the yard; that he did not assault Garrard, but was annoyed by the boys insulting him; that his brother Michaelo was being attacked and he went to his assistance, but saw no knife or other implement used.
Fariello, in his defence on oath, said that he was struck with a belt and he picked up a stick to defend himself; but did not strike anybody., and did not hare an iron bar in his hand.
Gerali, in his defence on oath, said that they were prevented from getting the cart inside the gates by some boys, but drove them away and pulled the cart inside and shut the gale, and they then began knocking at it and making a
noise outside; that they got into the yard, and he got hold of the pitchfork to help the others drive them out, but did not strike or kick anybody, nor did he help to drag Garrard into the yard.
Bottista, in his defence on oath, said that he went to bed at 6 p.m., and knew nothing about the row until Gerrali came into his bedroom over the stables, where he was arrested by the police.
BOTTISTA and ANDREA RISPOLI— NOT GUILTY . MICHAELO RISPOLI— GUILTY of unlawful wounding and causing actual bodily harm. Four months' hard labour. FARIELLO and GERALI GUILTY of a common assault. One month hard labour each.—The Jury considered that the prisoners had provocation.
598. SAMUEL WINFIELD (53) and ERNEST POORE (15) , Committing acts of gross indecency with each other, to which WINFIELD PLEADED GUILTY ; and MR. CLARKE HALL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against POORE
NOT GUILTY .
Two previous convictions for similar offences were proved against WINFIELD. Eighteen months hard labour.
FOURTH COURT—Wednesday, September 10th, 1902.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
(600) JAMES BOE LUPTON (35) , to stealing £25, the monies of the National Bank of Scotland, his masters. Also £595 of his said masters. Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(601) GEORGE SWAIN (72) , to forging and uttering a request for the payment of £9 with intent to defraud. Also to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Maud Hopgood a coat, and from Florence Gerrish a coat with intent to defraud. Also to forging a letter purporting to be written and signed by James P. Walker to E. P. B. Levett Scrivener with intent to defraud, and to a conviction of felony at this Court on May 28th, 1894, in the name of Arthur Heathcote. Four other convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour, and to finish two years of his unexpired sentence of seven years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. MORRIS Prosecuted.
EDMUND UTTING . I am a carman, of 56, Devonport Road, Catford—on August 18th, at 6.45 a.m., I was driving along High Street, Lewisham—the prisoner jumped on to my van and said he was going to have a ride—I said, "All right," and immediately afterwards he attacked me with a knife and cut my throat and ear—he said, "You have had the laugh at me, I shall now have the laugh at you"—he jumped off the van and drove round to the police-station, where I was attended by a doctor.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not call upon any men to knock you down, neither did I see anyone strike at you.
By the COURT. I had never seen him before.
WILLIAM PINSON . I am a decorator, of 28, Ladywell Park, Lewisham—on August 18th, about 6.45, I saw the prisoner jump on to the prosecutor's van and make a drive at his throat and ear—I saw blood flowing down his neck, and I told him to drive round to the police station while I followed the prisoner—I saw the prisoner shut up a knife and put it in his pocket—he walked quietly to the police station, and when there he said he wished he had cut his b—head off.
Cross-examined. I cannot say whether you put the knife in your trousers or waistcoat pocket.
By the COURT. I saw no one annoying the prisoner.
JOHN SIMMONS (143 P.) I arrested the prisoner—I took this knife (Produced) from his waistcoat pocket—the prosecutor had a large wound in his neck, one on his forehead, and one on his ear—there were no blood stains, on the knife.
GEORGE GRAY WILSON, M.D . I am a physician and surgeon, of 18, Lady well Park—I attended the prosecutor at Lewisham Police Station, and found him suffering from wounds on his head and neck, measuring 4 1/2 inches and 1 1/4 inch respectively—there was also a ragged incision on his left ear, and if the knife had been sharper it would have killed him.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the prosecutor called on some men to knock him down; that he ran into the Jolly Gardeners, and as he was coming out the prosecutor struck him with his whip.
GUILTY . A conviction at Greenwich on December 27th, 1901, of assaulting the police was proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour.
603. CHARLES ALBERT FELLOWS (36) , Feloniously wounding Rose Fellows with intent to do her grevious bodily harm. The prisoner, in the hearing of the Jury, PLEADED GUILTY to unlawful wounding, and the Jury found that verdict. He received a good character. Six months' hard labour
MR. S. JONES, Prosecuted.
FRANK SEPTIMUS SCOTT . I am an engineer, of 27, Clement's Lane—I saw my secretary, Mr. Abbott, there on June 14th, and gave him two £50 Bank of England notes to be paid into my account at the Manchester, Liverpool, and District Banking Company—they were endorsed in the name of Henry Harvey—they have not been paid in.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not know whether you had gone home or not before I handed the notes to Mr. Abbott—I did not give you permission to go—I have nothing whatever to do with the clerks in the office.
WALTER JOHN ABBOTT . I am secretary to Mr. Scott—the prisoner was my clerk for about four months at 30s. per week—Mr. Scott had nothing to do with the clerks—Mr. Scott handed me two £50 notes about 2.30 p.m.
on June 14th, and on the 16th I gave them to the prisoner and told him to go to the Bank of England and get them cashed—they are dated April, 1902, Nos. 0906016 and 11660—I never saw the prisoner again until he was in custody on August 30th.
Cross-examined. It is a rule when we have notes of £50 and upwards to get them cashed first to see that they are correct—I did not say that I ought to have paid them in on Saturday—I did not get them until after the banks closed—you certainly did not return the money to me.
JOHN RICHARD DAWSON . I am a clerk in the issue Office of the Bank of England—I received these two £50 notes (Produced) on June 16th endorsed in the name of Harvey—I handed cash over in exchange for them.
Cross-examined. I cannot say whether Mr. Scott's money was always paid in with a slip or a paying-in book.
WILLIAM NEVILLE (City Detective). I arrested the prisoner at Abinger, where he was detained—I said I should have to take him back to the City, where he would be charged with stealing £100 on June 16th—he said, "It is a false charge"—I said, "What have you done with the money?"—he said, "I took it back, and put it on Mr. Abbott's desk"—I said, "Who sent your wife the £5 in 20s. postal orders, which she changed at Ponder's End?"—he said, "That is part of £12 a friend of mine lent me"—I said, "Who paid your grocer's bill?"—he said, "A friend of mine paid that, and I also backed Solicitor and won a bit of money over that"—I took him back to the City, and he made no reply to the charge.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not have the money after giving it back to Mr. Abbott; I refused to pay it in because it should have been paid in on the Saturday."
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
SAMUEL DODDS . I live at 19, Brick Lane, Spitalfields, and am a dock labourer—I have known the prisoner between nine and ten months—I knew him by the name of Scottie—I am called Irish—I knew the deceased as Soldier—I have known him about nine or ten months—up to the time of the deceased's death I was friendly with him and the prisoner—the "prisoner dealt in rags and paper, the deceased did odd jobs for the Jews in Petticoat Lane—about July 20th the prisoner came over to me and said, "Irish, what do you think? "says I, "What?"—he said, "They have been and breached me for a dollar while I was asleep down Old Castle Street; I if could find out the man who done it, I would cut the guts out
of him"—I did not say anything, I left him—he did not mention any name—I saw him on the 23rd in Old Castle Street between two and three o'clock, he was sharpening a knife on a file—he said he was going to put the knife to work—he went into Whitechapel and I went into Petticoat Lane—I did not say anything, I did not see him any more that day—I saw him between the 21st and the 28th, he was walking along Wentworth Street; he said he would cheb brews, that means that he would cheb Soldier, that someone had told him that it was Soldier who had taken his dollar—he said, "I will breach Groves, and I will cheb Groves for the dollar—cheb means to stab—I did not speak to him—he was quite sober—I saw him again on August—28th at seven o'clock in Wentworth Street—he came over and said, "I am going to cheb Groves—I said, "Don't do anything so foolish"—he called him Soldier not Groves—I went into the coffee shop and had some tea, I stayed there about half an hour—the prisoner went down Wentworth Street towards Old Castle Street—he had nothing in his hand then—I saw him about 7.45 quarrelling with the deceased—I did not hear what they said—Scottie had hold of Groves and was kicking him, and I stepped in between them—they were both standing up; the deceased was pushing the prisoner off and telling him to go away as he did not want to hit him—the deceased did not close his hands when he was shoving the prisoner away—I shoved the prisoner one way and the deceased the other—I asked the prisoner to come with me; he would not, but broke away from me and got at the deceased again—he started kicking and shouting at him and pulling him all over the street—the deceased kept shoving him and telling him he did not wish to strike him, and he said if he did hit the prisoner he would put him to the ground—I separated them again; the prisoner again got away from me and got the deceased by the legs and threw him to the ground up against a barrow—he was going to set about him again, and I put my arms round him and picked him off the top of the deceased—I then picked up the deceased and put him on his feet—the prisoner closed in on the deceased, and took an open knife from his left-hand side coat pocket—it was a black-handled knife like this one—as he took it from his pocket he said to the deceased, "I will stick this into your heart"—I told the deceased to mind the knife—the prisoner passed it from his left hand to Ins right; he took a half turn to the right, and struck him on the left side of the neck with the knife—the deceased was standing with his hands by his side facing the prisoner, about two yards from him; the prisoner closed in on the deceased before he took the knife out—I asked the deceased if the prisoner had cut him; he made no answer, he could not speak, he clasped his hands to his neck and went up Wentworth Street for about fifty yards when he fell—the prisoner closed the knife and put it into his right-hand pocket—he followed close behind the deceased—when he got to the first turning he ran away—I ran after him and claimed him by the wrists—he kicked at me and said, "Let me go"—I said, "I cannot let let you go"—he used his feet, and then said, "Then charge me '—he was trying to pull away from me—I pulled him about fifty yards up the street to the corner of Victoria Street and Commercial Road; with the assistance of two others I flung him to
the ground and held Him until the police came—when the policeman had hold of him I took the knife out of the pocket that I had seen him put it into and gave it to the policeman—when the prisoner pulled the knife out of his pocket and stabbed the deceased that was the first time I saw it that evening—the knife which I had seen him sharpening on a previous occasion was a white-handled one.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner last October, when he tried to kill himself; I was with him—he was not what you call a drunkard, he took his fair share of drink—I have seen him drunk several times—he was excitable when he took drink, he was not excitable and irritable when he was sober—I was lodging in the same house with him—when I saw him sharpening his knife on August 23rd it was in the open street; there was no public-house near him, there was only a man from the tea factory there—it was between 2 and 3 p.m.—anybody could hear him when he said, "I am going to put this to work"—he was quite sober, nobody paid any attention to him, because he was always talking about knife work—down to August 28th he several times spoke about using a knife, and sometimes when others were there—I cannot say if he meant what he said—I saw a crowd round the prisoner and the deceased on August 28th—I was not there at the beginning—the prisoner had had some drink—for some time the deceased and the prisoner were struggling on the ground as hard as they could and just after they got to their feet I saw the open knife drawn from the prisoner's pocket—I was pushed about with the crowd—after the blow was struck by the prisoner he became very violent.
Re-examined. After the prisoner said he would cheb the deceased I spoke to the deceased—I was not present when the prisoner attempted suicide at the end of last year: I only speak of what I heard.
By the COURT. He was sober when he said he had been breached for a dollar, and when he was sharpening his knife and he looked all right at 7 p.m. on the 28th.
WILLIAM LLOYD . I live at 69, White Horse Lane, Stepney, and am a carman—I have known the prisoner about fifteen months by the name of Scottie—on August 28th, about 7.30 p.m., I was standing at the corner of Wentworth Street and Commercial Road—the prisoner came up Wentworth Street—he said, "Hallo, Punch, I am going to do a man in"—I said, "Go on, you are mad"—he said, "Am I, I mean to do him in"—he turned away from me and went towards Wentworth Street and Old Castle Street—I remained where I was—about twenty minutes afterwards I saw him coming up Wentworth Street struggling with O'Brian and Dodds—Dodds called out to me, "Punch, help, he has stabbed a man," and I went and assisted to detain the prisoner until a policeman came up—I then went back to where the deceased man was lying in Wentworth Street; he was bleeding from a wound in his throat—I helped to place him on a costermonger's barrow, and he was taken to the hospital—when I saw the prisoner at 7.30 he seemed as though he had had a couple of glasses to drink, but nothing to speak of.
Cross-examined. I only saw him for a minute then—as far as I know he did not sometimes have a glass or two too much—I saw him in October when he
committed suicide—then I went to South Africa—he was charged and sent to Holloway.
WILLIAM O'BRIEN . I live at 17, Dorset Street, and am a labourer—I have known the prisoner four and a half or five years as Scottie—I have known the deceased as Soldier between five and five and a half months—I did not know him by any other name—I saw the prisoner on August 28th about 7.40 p.m. coming through Wentworth Street to Old Castle Street—I was standing outside the coffee shop in Old Castle Street—he asked two or three men, "Have you seen Soldier, the reply was no—the deceased came up from Old Castle Street way about 7.45—the prisoner was still there—the deceased said to the prisoner, "Give me my cap,"and they exchanged caps, as they had each other's on—I do not know why they were wearing each other's caps—the deceased spoke in a friendly way—the prisoner took two or three running kicks at the deceased's privates—he kept shoving the prisoner away—Dodds jumped in between them and succeeded in separating them—he got the prisoner towards Wentworth Street and the deceased down Old Castle Street—the prisoner said, "Where Groves is going, I am going"—he took this knife open out of his pocket, and said to the prisoner, "You see this? I will shove it through you."—he passed it to his right hand—he took a run and struck the deceased with it in the neck—the deceased gripped at his own throat with his hands and walked away—I went after him—we got to the back of the Jews' school when he fell—I heard Dodds shouting for help—I left the deceased and went back to where Dodds was holding the prisoner—we threw him on his back on the ground.
Cross-examined. I do not know why the prisoner and the deceased had exchanged caps—they had a few rows and the deceased turned round to the prisoner and said, "You will be sorry for it in the morning"—the prisoner did not say anything to that—they fell to the ground two or three times—while the kicks were being made they rolled over each other and struggled on the ground—I think they closed and then fell to the ground—the second time they were side by side on the ground struggling—they closed and came to the ground a third time—it was after they got up the third time that the prisoner drew the knife—when he said "You see this, I will shove it through you," Dodds was between them—the prisoner did not say, anything else then—before the Magistrate I said that the prisoner said, "If I can't beat you one way I will beat you the other"—he did not say "See this, I will shove it through you"—thought he meant, "If I can't beat you one way, I will beat you with a bit of steel," but he did not say it—whatever he did say was said when Dodds was nearer to him than I was—the prisoner was not a very steady man when I first knew him, but he got worse later on—I have never seen him drunk, I see him every night; I have seen him when he has had a glass or two—he was never quarrelsome.
Re-examined. I had not seen the prisoner with a knife before August 28th—Dodds jumped between the men after they got up the last time—when they closed, it was the prisoner who went up to the deceased each
time—the deceased was trying to get away and said, "You will be sorry for it in the morning"—that was after they got off the ground.
RICHARD TURREL (288 H.) At 7.50 p.m., on August 28th, I saw a crowd at the corner of Wentworth Street and Commercial Street—I went up to it, and Dodds gave the prisoner into my custody—he said in the prisoner's presence, "This man has cut another man's throat with a knife"—the prisoner made no reply—I took him into custody, told him the charge, and took him to the station—on the way I asked for the knife and it was handed to me by Dodds—the prisoner said, "That is the knife I did it with, I did it intentionally"—at the station he was formally charged and made no reply—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk—he knew what he was doing.
Cross-examined. There was not a bottle in his pocket—when he said, "I did it with that knife," I did not ask him if he had done it intentionally, his statement was voluntary.
By the Court. Walking to the station I said, "Where is the knife"—I did not see where Dodds got it from—I had hold of the prisoner then—he was not struggling—I am sure he said "intentionally"—he was not in the least excited—he had not the appearance of a man who had gone through a struggle—he did not look as if he had been violently thrown to the ground to be kept quiet.
HARRY STUD (29 H.R.) About 7.50 p.m., on August 28th, I was called to Wentworth Street by a police whistle—I found a man lying on a costermonger's barrow—I took him to the London Hospital and left him there—I was present at the inquest on his body—the body I saw at the inquest was the body of the man I took to the hospital, and he was identified as John Groves by his sister.
THOMAS DIVALL (Inspector H.) I charged the prisoner at 11.30 p.m. on August 28th with the wilful murder of John Groves—he said, "Did you see me murder him?"—the charge was read over to him—he did not make any reply—I was present at the inquest—the prisoner elected to give evidence—it was taken down in writing and he subsequently put his mark to it.
Cross-examined. He was cautioned by the Coroner and was quite willing to give evidence. (The prisoner's evidence before the Coroner read.) "I reside at Smiths Chambers, 18, Brick Lane; I am a hawker. I have known the deceased about eighteen months on and off. On Thursday last I had been drinking all the afternoon from about 1 p.m. I had been fetching it out from Webb's public-house at the corner of Commercial Street. I have no recollection of quarrelling with the deceased. The first I recollect was coming down Castle Alley with Constable 422 H, and some other police. I had been drinking with others, but not people I entered into conversation with; I remember going to Webb's and getting some beer in a bottle, and coming back to Castle Alley, when I met the man called Soldier. I know I had a few words with him, but I do not know of any fight. The next thing I recollect is being in a room at Commercial Street Police Station with three or four. I recollect Inspector Divall as one, that is all I know about it."
—on August 28th, about 8 p.m., the dead body of a man was brought in—I saw it immediately after admission—there was a wound in the front of the neck almost in the middle—it had bled very freely—I made a post mortem examination next day—I found a small artery had been severed and some instrument had penetrated into the windpipe—that was the cause of death—it could have been caused by this knife.
GUILTY. DEATH .
MR. BODKIN and MR. MURPHY Prosecuted, and MR. MORLE Defended.
EDWARD GEORGE (131 N.) I am stationed at Enfield Highway, and at 11.15 p.m., on June 18th, I was on duty in Ordinance Road—that is near the river Lea—I saw the prisoner there—she had two children in her arms—she was standing on the tow path—I asked her what she was there for—she said, "Mind your own business"—I said, "In my opinion you are here for no good intention"—she said, "All my neighbours despise me and my children because they are suffering from eczema, and I have come here with the intention of doing away with myself and the children"—I asked her her name, and took her to the station—inquiries were circulated in the ordinary way, and she was taken back by her husband—she seemed worried and was crying—she said she came from Edmonton.
AMY THREADER . I am the wife of Thomas Threader, and live at 12, Sabona Place, Battersea—the prisoner is my mother, and I am one of twelve children—my two youngest brothers were James, two years and ten months old, and Charles Frederick, five or six months old—four of my brothers and sisters have died—my mother lives with my father, who is a marble polisher, and her family, at 13, Belmont Avenue—my mother has always been kind and affectionate to her family—almost ever since they were born both the youngest boys have suffered from eczema—my mother did everything she could for them—the neighbours used to decline to let their children play with them, that made my mother very depressed, and she told me it broke her heart—she has gradually got more and more depressed—the catching of the disease by the second child made her very much worse—in April a doctor came and saw her, and he recommended a change of scene—she came and stayed with me for a few days with the child James—she went back to her husband—I heard of her being found by the banks of the Lea on June 18th—I did not see her at that time—on July 26th I got a telegram and went and saw her—she was staying with Mrs. Bullock, her next door neighbour—she was in a depressed and miserable state—she seemed dazed—on one occasion she said that God's curse was on the children.
Cross-examined. When I got to Belmont Avenue I went into the sitting-room—I saw my mother and Mrs. White there—my sister Lottie came in with me.
CHARLES GEORGE BURTON . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and practise at 77, Church Street, Edmonton—about 9 p.m. on July 25th the prisoner called upon me—she was very depressed in manner,
and was not capable of answering my questions properly—she asked me to go and see her two children—she said they had been taken suddenly ill, but when I asked her what was the matter she did not reply—I went to 13, Belmont Avenue, and saw the dead bodies of two children lying side by side—they were in bed and dressed in dry night clothes, the counterpane was placed neatly over them—they had been dead about 3 1/2 hours—I examined the body of James—I did not then come to any conclusion as to the cause of death—a little later Dr. Johnson came into the room—I asked the prisoner how long the children had been dead—she said she did not know—the only definite statement she made was that she had given the children a bath in the afternoon, that she had put them to bed, they fell asleep; she went upstairs to look at them, and they were still asleep—I asked if there was an accident or anything the matter, but she made no answer—I mentioned the matter to the police and subsequently, in conjunction with with Dr. Pepper, I made a post mortem examination—I formed the opinion that the cause of death in the case of the elder child was drowning.
Cross-examined. There were no marks on the body—it would be impossible to say if the drowning was accidental or intentional—in the younger child the appearance was more consistent that it had died from diarrhoea.
AUGUSTUS JOHN PEPPER . I live and practise at 13, Wimpole Street—I made a post mortem examination of the body of James Pollard—in my opinion the cause of death was suffocation by drowning—the body was that of a fairly strong, well-nourished child—I should say it must have been in the water for 1 to two minutes before death actually took place—there was very extensive eczema on its body and on that of the younger child.
Cross-examined. There was nothing in the appearance of the body to show whether the cause of death was accidental or intentional—it would be absolutely impossible to say—the appearances of the body of the child were perfectly consistent with it's having fallen into the tub and not having been put in—there was no evidence of catarrh of the intestines in the younger child, it is not unlikely that it had diarrhoea.
By the COURT. I do not think it died from diarrhoea as it was well nourished, although somewhat weak, and it would not have died unless it was wasted—if the diarrhoea had been very severe and continuous it might kill in a short time, but the child's small intestines contained a large quantity of food.
SAMUEL SCARF (Police Inspector.) On July 25th I saw the prisoner—her husband, in her presence, made a statement—he told me he left home about 5.40 a.m., and the children were then in their usual health except the baby, which had been suffering from diarrhoea for a day or two—the prisoner told me that James had been in his usual health, and playing about till 4 p.m and that she put him to bed with the younger child because he had fallen into a tub of water; that she saw him fall in and took him out at once, then undressed him and put him to bed; that they appeared all right when she left them; that they soon went to sleep; she went up at 6 o'clock and they were still asleep, and she did not disturb them; and at 7 o'clock she went up
again, and she could not wake them, and thought there was something wrong, so went for Dr. Johnson, who was not at home; then she went for Dr. Burton; he came at 9 o'clock, and then told her they were dead; she said they had had nothing unusual to eat during the day, and she could not account for their death—her husband brought in a tub and she said that was the tub James had fallen into—it was a wooden tub, about eighteen inches wide.
EMMA BULLOCK . I am the wife of George Bullock, and live at 11, Belmont Avenue—on July 25th, about 9 p.m., I met the prisoner in the street—she asked me where I had been—I said I had just come from work—she said she had been to the doctor's because the baby was ill—I saw her about half an hour later, and in consequence I went and spoke to Dr. Johnson—I took the prisoner into my house—the next day she told me that James had fallen into a tub of water after a broom.
Cross-examined. I was on friendly terms with the prisoner and her husband—the younger child had been suffering from diarrhoea—I do not know for how long.
CHARLES FINLAND (Sergeant N.) I was on duty at Edmonton Station on July 26th, when the prisoner was charged with the murder of James Pollard—in reply to the charge she said, Yes, Sir"—on the 27th, about 9 a.m., I visited her in her cell—she said, "You have my poor husband and daughter here have not you?"—I replied, "No"—she said, "Oh, don't punish them, they are innocent as God is my judge; I have done this dreadful thing; I hope they are in heaven, they have done no harm"—she was hysterical when she said that and all day Sunday.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer at His Majesty's Prison at Brixton—I have just gone there from Holloway, where the prisoner was first brought under my notice on July 28th—she remained under my notice there till the middle of August—I saw her again on August 31st—on her reception she was melancholic and depressed—the depression continued more or less throughout the whole time she was under my observation—she said she had been worrying for a long time about her children as they were so bad with their skins, and that she sometimes felt unfit for her household duties as she was tired and weak—she said the children used to cry at night and prevented her from sleeping, and that the younger child developed the disease seven weeks after its birth; that her depression got worse, and that she remembered the time when she was away from home with the two children but could not remember the dates; she remembered June 18th, but said she felt so miserable and depressed that she thought it best to drown herself and her child—she said she felt more depressed than usual on July 25th, that the younger child was crying very much, which upset her terribly, that the children were so bad that she thought they would never be better, and she thought they would be better in another world, and then she did it—she did not say what she had done—I asked her about the statement she was alleged to have made to the police—she said, "I don't remember what I said to the police; I know I told them something because I thought of the disgrace to my husband and family"—I believe her to be still suffering from melancholia, and I think she was in that condition on July
25th—the illness of her children, the worry of housekeeping, and the restlessness at night are all matters which would exhaust her and conduce to melancholia.
By the COURT. If she was suffering from melancholia on July 25th that would make her unable to know that what she was doing was wrong.
Cross-examined. I think her statements can be relied upon—I do not think that she suffered from a delusion as to what did happen—I do not think that her reasoning powers could go so far as to make her think that death had not resulted from accident—the discovery of the children's death would be a great shock to her, but I think you can give credence to her statements.
Re-examined. She has always told a consistent story regarding the deaths.
Evidence for the Defence.
JOHN TANNER . I practice at 19, Queen Ann Street, Cavendish Square—I am an M.D., M.R.C.S., and L.S.A.—I have practised as obstetric physician for nearly forty years—I am consulting physician to the Farringdon Dispensary and Lying-in Hospital—I examined the prisoner with reference to her mental condition on September 3rd, at Holloway Prison, with Dr. Johnson—I think now that she is suffering from melancholia, and that probably her mental condition is very much improved since she has been in prison, and is recovering—I do not think any reliance can be placed on any statements she made—she said she had drowned the children, that she could not remember which she drowned first; that she had no recollection of taking the children out of the water; that she had no idea how they got into bed, or who dried them—if she could have remembered the one condition of things I think she could have remembered all—her condition arose from puerperal mania, it appears that her labours were very bad, and that she fainted three times during them when the last child was born.
Cross-examined. I do not disagree with the other doctors as to the prisoner's condition on July 25th.
Re-examined. Persons do do things and then do not remember them, or they may remember them in the course of a minute or two and be very sorry.
By the COURT. I should not have been surprised if she had drowned the children, having regard to her condition—I have read the post-mortem report—undoubtedly the elder child died by drowning—with regard to the younger child, there is a doubt—I think it was suffering from catarrh of the bowels, and it probably had diarrhoea—if there was no report as to drowning I should have said it had died from diarrhoea.
DREWITT JOHNSON . I practise at Lower Edmonton, and am an M.R.C.S. and L.R.C.P.—I first saw the prisoner about the first week in April—I advised her to go away for a change—on July 25th I met her at my gate—she asked me to go to her house—I went shortly afterwards—I met Dr. Barton there—I did not hear what she said to him—I have examined her in Holloway—I should not place any great reliance upon any statements she made.
Cross-examined. To a certain extent I should disregard them altogether.
By the COURT. She said she had murdered her children, but I should not necessarily believe it.
GUILTY, but not responsible for her actions at the time. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
608. JOHN THOMAS SCOTT (16) , PLEADED GUILTY to robbery with violence upon Ellen Webb and stealing a sachell, and occasioning her actual bodily harm. He received a good character. Six months' imprisonment in the second division.—
(609) PAUL LINDNER (35) , to stealing orders for £14 16s. 6d., and within six months £8 10s., the property of Siegmund Reichenheim, his master; also ,to forging and uttering orders for payment of £14 16s. 6d. and £8 10s.; having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on May 1st, 1900. Two other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(611) HARRY JACKSON (42) , to being found by night with housebreaking implements in his possession, without lawful excuse. (See indictment for housebreaking, page 976.) [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
HARRY SALTER . I am a brass finisher of 15, Amory Place, Limehouse—a little after midnight on July 20th I was waiting in the East India Dock Road for a tram, with Mrs. Salter—the prisoners came up to me—Burgess said, "Don't I know you?"—I said, "No, not that I know of"—he caught me by the throat and tripped me on to the ground and held me, while Cassell took 2s. and a few coppers from my pockets—my wife came to my assistance and Cassell tried to trip her up—the detectives caught them in the act—on the way to the station Burgess tried to bite the detective's arm, and I helped the detective by holding him—I am all right now, but I felt the strain on the muscles of my throat for about a week.
Cross-examined by Burgess. I said at the police court that you tripped me up.
SARAH SALTER . I am the wife of the last witness—I was with him a little after midnight on July 20th in the East India Dock Road waiting for a tram—Burgess caught hold of my husband by the throat and tripped him up, Cassell got his hands in and rifled his pockets while Burgess held him on the ground—I went to my husband's assistance—Cassell tried to trip me up—the detectives caught them in the act while my husband was on the ground.
GEORGE SCRIMSHAW (Detective K.) I was in the neighbourhood of the East India Dock Road a little after midnight on July 20th—in consequence of seeing the prisoners loitering, I with another officer crept into a doorway and watched—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Salter come along, and the prisoners speak to each other—Burgess caught Salter by the throat—Salter shouted, "Let me go, let me go"—at the same time Cassell put his foot behind them and they fell to the ground—Cassell put his arms over Salter and his hands into his trousers pocket and took something out—the wife ran up and caught hold of Cassell and tried to pull him off—Cassell put his foot out and tried to trip her up—the woman screamed—I rushed out and caught Burgess—he said, "Let me go,"and threw himself across my left arm and bit it—he was violent—the prosecutor came to my assistance—on the way to the station Burgess said, "You know what you are going to have one of these days with the boys,"meaning his associates—his teeth marks are still in my arm, it was quite black for a fortnight—he would have bitten it but for the thickness of my coat—my arm was bruised.
Cross-examined by Burgess. You were near the Eastern Hotel when I first started keeping observation.
Cross-examined by Cassell. I thought I caught you at the proper time.
THOMAS GALE . (Detective K.) I was with the last witness—I saw the prisoners cross the road as Mr. and Mrs. Salter were waiting on the path—Burgess got Salter by the throat and Cassell went through his pockets—I rushed across the road and got hold of Cassell while his hand was in Salter's pocket—I said, "I shall arrest you"—he made no reply—Salter was then on the ground, struggling to get away—Burgess tried to trip Mrs. Salter up when she went to the assistance of her husband.
Cassell, in his defence, said he was guilty of robbery but not of violence; Burgess, in his defence, said that he crossed the road to see what was the matter when he was taken hold of; that he asked what it was for when he was answered, "I shall show you you f—ponce," and was taken to the station, but that he never saw the prosecutor; that there were thirty to forty people round, which his wife could prove; and that he never saw Cassell.
CASSELL then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on September 16th. 1895. in the name of George Smith. Several other convictions were proved against each prisoner. CASSELL† Five years' penal servitude —BURGESS† Eighteen months' hard labour.
FOURTH COURT, Thursday, September 11th, 1902.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
613. JOHN WINTERS (20) , to obtaining by false pretences from William Jelks a quantity of furniture value £41 3s. 4d.; and from Arthur Whale a bicycle value £12 12s. with intent to defraud. Nine months hard Labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(614) THOMAS JOSEPH FLYNN (31) , to obtaining by false pretences from John Carter and Sons, Ltd., fifteen pairs of boots with intent to defraud. Nine months' hard labour. (See next page.)— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(615) ALFRED WRIGHT (19), JOHN CLARKE (18), and ALBERT COLE (17), ,to breaking into a Wesleyan chapel with intent to steal therein; and WRIGHT and CLARKE also to stealing fourteen watches the property of William Everett Scott. WEIGHT,* Six months' hard labour. CLARKE,* Six months' hard labour. COLE. Three months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. THOMPSON Defended.
JAMES PHILLIP BILLOT . I am warehouseman to John Carter and Sons, Ltd.—exhibits A. B. and C. are orders for boots which were brought to me on May 5th, 9th, and 13th by Flynn—I believed them to be genuine, and supplied Flynn with the boots—I knew him to be in the employ of Mr. Green—Messrs. Carter have lost nothing, as Mr. Green has paid for the boots.
Cross-examined. Messrs. Carter carry on an extensive business in boots and shoes—they have various classes of customers including tally men.
THOMAS JOSEPH FLYNN . (See Page 888.) I have pleaded guilty to obtaining fifteen pairs of boots by false pretences from John Carter and Sons—I have been employed by Mr. Green as shorthand clerk and book-keeper for nearly four years—I have known Puttock about eighteen months—I first made his acquaintance by selling him a second-hand pair of hoots—he then found out that I was in the boot trade, and asked me if I could get him some, boots cheap—I said I thought I could, and three days afterwards I took him some new boots—I cannot say exactly what price he gave me for them, but it would be about half the wholesale price—I had obtained them by false pretences—I said nothing with regard to them on the first two or three transactions, but later I told him they had not been got honestly as he ought to know by the price he was paying for them—altogether I took him about £150 worth—when I went to Puttock's shop I sometimes saw a workman, there—I used to hand Puttock the boots in the back parlour, but on no occasion did I give him a receipt—the five receipts produced are in my writing, but I gave him these all on one occasion—he told me that he was going to insure against burglary, and that the insurance company would want to see the receipts, therefore would I give him some—he produced, the paper and I wrote out the five produced all at the same time—the receipts do not represent the prices he gave me.
Cross-examined. The police did not ask me to give evidence—I do not admit being a forger, because I had authority to sign Mr. Green's name—I cannot be certain as to the exact number of receipts I gave Puttock—I had about twenty or thirty private customers for the boots, but nobody else in the trade besides Puttock—there was a notice in Puttock's shop, "Second-hand boots bought"—I cannot say exactly where it hung—it was not in a frame—I am confident the price paid by Puttock was only half the wholesale price.
Re-examined. When I was arrested on August 12th I made the same statement to the police as I had previously made to Mr. Green.
HENRY GREEN . I am a boot manufacturer, of 79, Mare Street, Hackney—Flynn was in my employ as book-keeper for nearly four years, and the bills from Carter's would go through his hands, consequently I have had to pay for the boots.
Cross-examined. Flynn had authority to sign my name for some things, but not for ordering boots.
MAURICE STERN . I am a boot and shoe repairer, of 3, Middlesex Wharf, Lea Bridge Road, Clapton—I was in Puttock's employ from the end of last December to last March at his shop, 162, Lonsdale Road—while there I often saw Flynn come to the shop—I recognise him because he talks through his nose—he came as often as three or four times a week—he often brought parcels wrapped up in brown paper—he sometimes came with a parcel and sometimes without—when he brought a parcel he used to hold it down low, so that I should not see it, and take it into the shop parlour to Puttock—on one occasion Puttock took a boot from the window and showed it to Flynn, and said, "Have you got a No. 8 size like that"—as a rule I could not hear the conversation because I was working at my bench.
Cross-examined. I saw some sacks of leather cut in all different shapes brought into the shop—Flynn did not bring it—it was sent from William Jenkinson and Co.—I was not working at Puttock's shop every day; sometimes I worked at the shop and sometimes at home—I was not called as a witness at the police court—I read about the case in "Lloyd's,"and went to Mr. Green and asked him what was the matter.
GEORGE HAZELTINE . I am a warehouseman in the employ of Messrs. John Carter and Sons, and reside at 86, Shrubland Road, Dalston—I went with the police to Puttock's shop in Lonsdale Road, where I saw him—fifty-one pairs of boots were found in the shop belonging to Messrs. Carter—sixteen pairs were in the window, and thirty-five pairs were in the shop parlour—those in the parlour were in boxes, but those in the window were exposed for show—they were all new—they were not travellers' samples, because the recognised size in the trade for samples is 7, and these boots ranged from sizes 5 to 10, which is the whole range of men's sizes—I frequently passed his shop and saw the boots in the window—boots which were sold at 5s. 1d. wholesale were marked at 5s. 6d.; one pair sold by our firm at 8s. 6d. was marked 8s. 6d.; and another pair sold by our firm at 10s. 6d. was marked 8s. 6d.
Cross-examined. I am not aware that Puttock bought boots from Messrs. Cartel'—there was no concealment as regards the boots in the window, and the firm's private mark had not been removed—it was the low prices at which the boots were marked which drew my attention—Messrs. Carter have various kinds of customers, including tally men—travellers are not allowed to take out job lots, and sell them at cheap prices—sizes 8 and 9 would be sold at the same price as 7's—when I went to Puttock's shop with the police he did say that he had seen me looking into his window several times—I do not think he knew where I was employed.
Re-examined. Some of our boots are marked on the sole, and others inside on the lining.
JOHN ROSENSTRETER (Police Sergeant). I arrested Flynn on August 12th, and on the way to the station he made a statement to me—on the 13th I went with Mr. Hazeltine to 162, Lonsdale Road, where I saw Puttock—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I do not know anyone of the name of Flynn: I have not bought any boots of Carter; I bought some travellers' samples for which I have a receipt"—he produced one receipt, and I asked him if that was the only receipt he had—he said, "I have some more, but I cannot find them"—I searched the place, and found sixteen pairs of boots in the window, and thirty-five pairs, which Mr. Hazeltine identified as belonging to Messrs. Carter, in the parlour—I then took Puttock to the police station, where he handed me four other receipts—he said, "About five months ago a man, whom I did not know, came into my shop and asked me if I bought second-hand boots; I said 'Yes,' and bought a pair of him which he had in his hand. A few days afterwards he came in and said that he had some travellers' samples to sell; would I buy them. I said, 'Yes, if the price is reasonable.-' The next day he brought some in; I think it was four pairs. He asked me a reasonable price, and I bought them, and got a receipt for them. I have seen him about once every week since, and bought boots of him which he represented as a job line and samples. I have not seen the man since last Saturday week, when he borrowed 6s. of me"—he then said, "What sort of a man is this Flynn?"—I described Flynn to him, and he said, "Yes, that is the man"—the next day at the police court he said, "How did this man Flynn get the boots; did he go to Carter's and fetch them, and say they were for his governor?"
Cross-examined. Puttock made no attempt to conceal anything in the shop—I do not think there were a dozen pairs of boots in the place beside these fifty-one pairs.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he kept a small boot shop at 162, Lonsdale Road, for which he paid 12s. a week rent; that he knew Flynn for about eight months as Jordon, because the receipts were signed in that name; he denied that he knew the boots to be stolen, but thought they were job "lines" and bought them from Flynn for 6s. a pair, on each occasion getting a receipt; that altogether he bought about £35 worth from Flynn, and that he had occasionally bought boots from Messrs. Carter.
Evidence for the Defence.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRANTHAM Prosecuted.
HENRY LOVATT . I am a builder of North End Road, Kensington—on August 8th, about 8 p.m., I was in Holborn in a four-wheeled cab—I alighted for a few minutes near the British Museum Station of the Tube—I left my bag inside the cab, and when I returned the bag was gone—it
contained three cheque books, three £5 notes, and various other things—two cheques have been filled up for £5 5s. each, one for £5 and another for £18 10s.
ALFRED THOMAS PIERCE . I am a dairyman at 23, Bury Street, W.C.—on August 13th a boy brought me an envelope containing a note and a cheque for £5 5s., which purported to be from Dr. Padman, who I know very well, drawn by a George Watson in favour of the doctor, and the note requested me to cash the cheque, but as I had had some such cheques before, I became suspicious and called a policeman—I sent the boy back with an empty envelope and then followed him—he gave the envelope to Grant, saying "Someone wants to speak to you," and Grant ran off immediately, but was subsequently stopped.
ALBERT EDWARD METCALFE . I am employed in Southampton Row—on August 13th I met Grant in Bloomsbury Square, he asked me if I would take a message for him, and gave me an envelope addressed to Mr. Pierce, 23, Bury Street—I took the envelope as directed, and Mr. Pierce gave me a blank envelope to take back—I took it to Grant saying, "Here is your change, you are wanted," and he ran away—I shouted "Stop him," and he was subsequently arrested.
By the COURT. I am quite sure that Grant is the man—he was alone when he gave me the envelope.
WILLIAM DYER . (46 D.R.) About 5.40 p.m. on August 13th, I was in Bury Street, when Mr. Pierce made a statement to me—I saw the boy Metcalfe in the shop and told him to take the empty envelope to the man who had sent him for the change—he did so, and I followed—I saw him hand the envelope-to Grant, who immediately ran away—I followed in a cab shouting "Stop thief," and he was stopped outside the mansions opposite the British Museum—I took him into custody, and he was charged with stealing Mr. Lovatt's property—in reply he said, "I know nothing at all about it."
WILLIAM BODEN . I drive a four-wheeled cab, No. 11,526—on August 8th I was driving Mr. Lovatt in Holborn—he got out for a few minutes near the British Museum Station of the Tube—while he was away a man asked me the way to Drury Lane, and as he was going away I felt the cab move—I looked round and saw two men walking away, one with a bag in his hand—I cannot recognise either of the men as I only saw their backs—I recognise Hirst as the man who spoke to me—there must have been a third man in it because the man who spoke to me was not one of the men I saw walking away.
Cross-examined by Hirst. I did not recognise you at Bow Street because you were clean shaven, but now you look more like yourself again.
JOHN BISSELL (Detective Sergeant.) About 2.30 p.m. on August 25th I went to Snow Hill Police Station, where I saw Hirst, who was detained there for attempting to obtain a bicycle by one of the stolen cheques—I asked him if he had any more of the cheques, and he produced two blank
cheques and one filled in for £5 and a pocket-book—I told him that as the cheques formed part of the contents of a hand-bag that was stolen from a cab in High Holborn, on August 8th, I should take him into custody for stealing it—he said, "I did not steal them; a man gave them to me in the billiard room of an hotel near where I live on Friday last; his name is Jimmy Green, and he lives in Holborn Buildings"—I took him to Bow Street, and on the way he said, "I know I have been a fool"—he was subsequently charged and in reply said, "I know nothing about the stealing."
Cross-examined by Hirst. Barker was present when you made the statement to me—I examined your pocket-book—it contained a slip of paper with the name "Green "written on—I have made enquiries but cannot find the billiard-marker who you say saw Green give you the pocket-book and write out the cheque.
HENRY BURCHELL CLAYSON . I am manager to the New Rapid Cycle Company, Holborn Viaduct—Hirst called at the show-rooms at Holborn Viaduct on Saturday, August 23rd, about 2 o'clock, and selected a bicycle and accessories value £18 10s.—he wanted it delivered at 7 o'clock that evening, when he said he would give our messenger a cheque—I asked him the name of his bankers and he said Lloyds, Wolver hampton Branch—when he had gone I made inquiries at the Holborn Circus Branch of Lloyds Bank and found that there was a cheque book missing—Hirst called again on the following Monday and wanted the machine put on a cab and gave me a cheque already drawn in favour of the firm—the manager of the Holborn Circus Branch of Lloyds Bank was waiting there and I handed him the cheque for his inspection—the detective officers then came in, and I handed the matter over to them—I did not part with the bicycle.
Cross-examined by Hirst. When you ordered the Bicycle you did not say that you had been sent by a Mr. Green—you told me you were a brother of the well-known Yorkshire cricketer.
Grant, in his defence on oath, said that he met a friend in King Street who asked him if he would mind delivering a letter for him, but that he had better not go himself but send a boy; that it was sealed and he did not know its contents, that he sent a boy and waited some time, but as he did not come back he walked a little way up the road when the boy overtook him and said, "Here is your change; you are wanted"; and that he was then arrested.
Hirst, in his defence on oath, said that he was a tailor, that on August 22nd he met a man named Jimmy Green in the Lamb Hotel, Guildford Street, who gave him the cheque and asked him to get the bicycle for him; and that he had nothing to do with stealing the bag.
GUILTY . Hirst then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at West-minster Police Court on January 14th, 1902, in the name of John Rhodes, and five other convictions were proved against him. GRANT, Six months' hard labour. HIRST, Three years' penal servitude.
618. JOHN MCBURNEY (36) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Jacob Mosely Joseph three watches, value £35 15s.; and from Edward Weiner ten rings and four brooches, value £404, with intent to defraud.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted.
EDWARD WEINER . I am a manufacturing jeweller, of 25a, Hatton Garden—on October 25th, about 1.30 p.m., the prisoner came to me with an order from Messrs. John Barker and Co., jewellers, of Kensington—I believed it to be genuine, and delivered to the prisoner various articles of jewellery, value £404—I discovered that it was a forgery some five days afterwards when I called upon Barker and Co.—I next saw the prisoner at the Clerkenwell Police Court about six weeks ago with a number of other men, and I immediately picked him out.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had never seen you before you presented the order—my father was present when I delivered the jewellery, but he is now in Switzerland.
EDWARD HARRIS . I am the manager of the jewellery department of Messrs. Barker and Co., of Kensington—the order produced was never sent by my firm, neither is the bill-head a genuine one—I have met the prisoner before—he applied to us for a situation, and was engaged, subject to his character being satisfactory, but upon inquiry he was not engaged.
Cross-examined. I do not remember you producing more than two references—you were not more than an hour or two in the place—we prosecuted one of our employees about the end of last July for stealing.
JACOB MOSELEY JOSEPH . I am a watch manufacturer, of 94, Hatton Garden—I also act as agent for Messrs. Newson and Co.—on July 7th, about 1 p.m., the prisoner brought an order to me addressed to Messrs. Newson and Co., purporting to come from Mr. Duncan Cooper, of 235, Brompton Road—I believed it to be genuine, and delivered to him three gold watches, value £35 15s.—on the following Thursday, July 10th, I called upon Mr. Cooper to know if the goods were suitable, and discovered that the order was a forgery—I next saw the prisoner on August 3rd at his house at Wealdstone—I went with a policeman and identified him immediately he opened the door, and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. Nobody else was present when you called upon me on July 7th.
WILLIAM DUNCAN COOPER . I am a jeweller, of 235, Brompton Road—the order produced is a forgery, and the bill-head is not mine—I have never authorised the prisoner to obtain goods on my behalf—I have seen him before—he represented a firm of case makers with whom I did a small amount of business.
Cross-examined. I do not remember giving you any order personally—orders were generally sent direct to your firm, and you came in reference to them.
SIDNEY WYBORN (Detective Sergeant E.) On August 3rd, about 11 a.m., I went with Detective Sergeant Callaghan and Mr. Joseph to 22, Lockett Road, Wealdstone, and there saw the prisoner—I told him I was a police officer, and held a warrant for his arrest for obtaining on July 7th, 1902, three gold watches from Mr. Joseph by means of a forged order—he said, "I do not know anything about any watches: I do not know that man," meaning Mr. Joseph—when formally charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. Callaghan was with Mr. Joseph when he knocked at
your door—I was at the gate—when the door was opened I followed you in, and then we went upstairs, where I searched your trousers that were hanging behind the door—I did not find anything of any importance—I asked you if you had any pawn tickets, and you said, "No."
The prisoners statement before the Magistrate. "On July 7th, between 1 and 2 p.m., I was at home at Harrow. I can prove that. As to the second charge, I can prove I was at Manchester on the day in question."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was not in London at all on July 7th, but was at home with his wife; that he had never seen Mr. Joseph before August 3rd at Harrow with the two detectives; that he was not in London on October 25th, 1901, when the other fraud was committed, but that he went to the Chief Constable's office in Manchester to try and get a friend of his named Felan on the Police Force.
Evidence for the Defence.
T. W. GREEN. I am a master joiner, of Wealdstone—between 4 and 5 p.m. on July 7th I saw the prisoner at Wealdstone, when he paid me some money that was owing to me—my carpenter was with me.
HERBERT JOHNSON . I am a baker employed at Wealdstone—I call every day at the prisoner's house, 22, Lockett Road—I called there on Monday, July 7th, between 1 and 2 o'clock, and saw the prisoner—he paid me 1s. 10d. for bread.
Cross-examined. I deliver bread at his house every day—I have seen him there several times—I have no particular reason for remembering July 7th.
Re-examined. The previous Saturday I returned from my holiday, and I remember the prisoner asking me on the Monday how I had enjoyed myself.
ERNEST BLACKMORE . I am an ironmonger at 9, The Parade, Wealdstone—I remember the prisoner purchasing a glass globe of me, but I cannot swear to the day—I have had several business transactions with him, and have never had any difficulty with my money—I remember changing a cheque for £3 10s. and also a £50 note for him.
ALEXANDER MCGREGOR . I belong to the Royal Engineers—I lodged with the prisoner at 75, Higher Temple Street, Manchester, for about eighteen months—I was at home on October 25th, and I saw him at home then—that night I was intoxicated, and was apprehended the next day.
Cross-examined. October 26th was not the first night I have been the worse for drink, I am sorry to say.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of larceny at Glasgow on October 16th, 1898. Judgment respited.
OLD COURT.—Friday, September 12th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. HUTTON and MR. JENKINS Prosecuted, MR. SANDS Defended.
EMMA CRESSWELL . I am married, and live at 48, Somerset Road, Acton Green, on the ground floor flat—Stuart and the prisoner occupied the floor above me—I think they came in February—I heard them frequently quarrelling—on July 19th, about 11 p.m., the prisoner knocked, and I let her in—she was sober—she went up stairs—I heard Stuart coming in about five minutes afterwards, but I did not see him—he went straight upstairs—I heard the door shut—I heard them quarrelling directly afterwards—we could not hear them in the bedroom—I heard no more till the door was broken in some time afterwards—my husband got up—the police were in the house.
Cross-examined. I have never seen the deceased knock the prisoner about—the prisoner appeared frightened of him—she has told me so, and I have seen her get out of the house, and she stood on the step to be out of his way—she said he had knocked her down stairs, but that was years ago.
WILLIAM FELLOWES . I live at 54, Somerset Road, Acton Green—I knew the prisoner lived at No. 48, three doors off, with James Stuart—on July 19th, about 11.45 p.m., in consequence of what my wife said, I went out at the back door—I saw the deceased with his clothes alight in his back garden—the prisoner was standing by his side, but giving no assistance—the deceased was leaning against the fence—he was dressed—I made my way to their front door and broke it open—I went upstairs and through their kitchen down to the back, and took off parts of the deceased's burning clothes—I then went back to the kitchen and extinguished the flames in the house—there was oil about the floor and also flames—the deceased was then leaning against the fence without any clothes—then he made his way upstairs by himself—I sent the prisoner for a blanket to put round him—she got the blanket, and I put it round him and sat him in a chair—he pulled the blanket on one side and showed me where he was burnt—I asked the prisoner what she had done this for—he said I had not seen all, and he showed me where he was burnt about the body—she answered, "We had been quarrelling"—a constable came in.
Cross-examined. The back door opens on to a landing, and there are stairs outside and a partition between the gardens about 4 or 5 feet high—I took the deceased's clothes off as quickly as I could—I had not time to speak to the prisoner till we were upstairs—she appeared very much upset.
MAX TYLOR (158 T.) On July 19th, about 11.50, I was called to 48, Somerset Road—I found the prisoner in the back kitchen with the deceased who was terribly burnt about the top of the body—he had a blanket on, and was sitting in a chair—I asked who had done it—the prisoner replied, "He called me a f—old cow, I then threw the lamp at him"—I produce the bottom of the lamp, which was found on the landing outside the kitchen door—I sent for a doctor—Stuart was removed to the hospital—I arrested the prisoner—she appeared to be sober—after the charge was read she said something about a cut on her head, that Stuart had struck her with a cup—these are the pieces I picked up—her head was bleeding.
Cross-examined. There was rather a large scratch on the left side of her head, which was bleeding a good deal—the room was about 10 feet by
9 feet—I went there in a hurry—the fire was out—the prisoner was very excited—the man was perfectly cool—the table in the room was about 3 feet by 2 feet—there was a dresser—the room was fairly full of furniture—I found this slightly burnt waistcoat in the garden—there were no signs of a struggle.
CHARLES ADAMS (Sergeant 66 T.) Early on July 20th I was patrolling, when Tylor spoke to me in the High Road, Chiswick, just before 1 a.m.—in consequence of what he said I went to the West London Hospital, where the deceased had just arrived on an ambulance—I had been to the police station and returned—I found the prisoner in custody—I charged her with violently assaulting James Stuart with whom she had been living—that was from what the deceased and the doctor told me—after the charge was read over, a cut was discovered on her head, which was bleeding—she said, "He did it, he struck me with a cup; he has previously assaulted me; once he threw me down stairs"—the divisional surgeon was called in, and dressed the wound—on July 28th, after Stuart's death, the prisoner was charged with manslaughter—she then said the lamp was knocked over.
Cross-examined. I came to the conclusion that there had been a melee between them—she had a bad cut on her head and another on her finger—the deceased's condition was not considered so dangerous—I inspected the flat on the 21st, but the kitchen was barred up from the inside—that was after Tylor had been, and the Coroner's officer.
JOHN LEWIS TIMMINS . I am a medical practitioner and house surgeon at the West London Hospital—I first saw the deceased shortly before 10 a.m. on the 21st—he was very much burnt, and the burns, according to my instructions, had been dressed during the night—he was then in a collapsed state, but his general condition was good—he could not tell me what he had been burnt with—there was a slight scratch on the top of his head—he died on July 22nd—on the Sunday night he suddenly became very collapsed—I immediately sent for the Inspector of Police in order to call in a Magistrate, but a Magistrate could not be called at that time of night—the Inspector said it was necessary to take his deposition—he was made to understand that he was seriously ill, and the sergeant took his deposition on the Sunday night about 11.15—he was then in great danger—I told him he was seriously ill—Cheyney, who took the deposition, said something more to him which I do not remember.
Cross-examined. I found no trace of alcohol—his condition was dangerous from the first—he was a well-developed, strong man.
WILLIAM CHEYNEY (Police Inspector T.) On July 21st, about 12.10, I received a communication from the West London Hospital, and went there in company with the prisoner, who was in custody—I went to Stuart's bed side with the doctor—I told him, "The doctor informs me you are in a dying condition"—he replied, "Yes"—I said that the doctor had sent for me to take his deposition—he replied, "Yes"—I then took his statement—he seemed very ill and in great agony, and appeared to believe that he was dying—the statement was read over to him after he had given it (Read): "I, James Stuart, having the fear of death before me, and being
without hope of recovery, make the following statement: I went out on Saturday night with Minnie Parker shopping, and had a glass of ale at the Barley Mow public house, Chiswick, and after leaving there about a quarter or twenty minutes to eleven, called at the Roebuck public-house. High Road, Chiswick, just before eleven, and had another half pint. I then went home to 48, Somerset Road. When we got in doors we had a few words, when the lamp was thrown at me, my clothes were burning, and I was saturated with oil. I then pulled off my jacket and waistcoat and put out the flames as soon as I could, and I do not remember anything else. The woman standing there is the woman who threw the lamp at me, Minnie Parker. That is all I have got to say, and I do not wish to ask her any questions or speak to her again. Question by Minnie Parker: I only wish to ask him what I done it for. Answer, Stuart: She promised it long ago. Question, Parker: Did you break my jaw? Answer: No, she fell down the stairs and did it. No more questions."
JOHN LEWIS TIMMINS (Re-examined). When Stuart made the statement he was very weak, barely able to speak—no more questions could have been asked him, he was so exhausted—he died about mid-day on the 22nd.
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that they had been quarrelling; that the deceased struck her with two plates, and in defending herself from the blow the lamp was upset, but as soon as she recovered from the effects of the shock she did what she could and fetched a blanket.
MAX TYLOR (Re-examined by the COURT). When I had taken the prisoner into custody I left another officer named Horn in charge—I picked up the broken pieces when I took the prisoner—I could not find any plates—the crockery was inside the door, and the foot of the lamp outside on the landing—I looked principally for the lamp, because that had done the mischief, but only found this piece of broken jar.
WILLIAM FELLOWES (Re-examined by the COURT). I was in the kitchen when Tylor came—I did not remain—I went down stairs and stood against the door—I left the deceased, the prisoner, and Tylor only in the room.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BLACK Prosecuted.
GUILTY of the attempt. The prisoner had been convicted at the North London Sessions on January 15th, 1901, of larceny, after seven previous convictions of felony. Twelve months' hard labour.
NEW COURT—Friday, September 12th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
THIRD COURT.—Friday and Wednesday, September 12th and 11th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GRAIN and MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted and MR. BIRON Defended.
THOMAS SALTER . I am a clerk in the Affidavit Department of the High Court of Justice—I produce an affidavit purporting to be sworn by Henry Yeo filed March 14th, 1901, and another affidavit of Answers to Interrogatories dated July 16th, 1901, also purporting to be signed by Henry Yeo; and a third affidavit of documents dated July 16th, containing a letter dated July 31st, 1900, from the plaintiff's solicitors and to the defendant.
CHARLES HENRY CUMBERLAND . I am a Commissioner for Oaths of 36, John Street, Bedford Row, W.C.—I administered the oath to one Henry Yeo on July 16th, 1901, in respect of the other two affidavits in question.
SAMUEL HENRY JOHN FENWICK . In 1887 I was desirous of investing £5,000 in a business undertaking, and went with my solicitor to the business premises of Mr. George Robert Matthews, leather manufacturer, of Spa Road, Bermondsey, where I was introduced to the prisoner as Mr. Matthews' partner—I said I was satisfied, and my solicitor suggested that the books should be audited—Yeo said it was unnecessary as I had the personal security of himself; Mr. Matthews and Mrs. Matthews, and I ultimately put the £5,000 into the business—this mortgage deed (Produced) was executed on June 20th, 1887, and signed by the prisoner and Mr. and Mrs. Matthews: "The borrowers hereby covenant with the lender to repay to the lender on certain days the sum of £5,000 and interest"—in January, 1893, I was desirous of getting some more money to put into the business, and I obtained a loan from Mr. Stephen Cliff, and assigned to him on January 20th, 1893, by way of security, the mortgage deeds of June 20th, 1887—Mr. Yeo continued in the business for about a year after I entered it.
Cross-examined. He used to come about twice a week after I entered the business—I did not tell him I had assigned the mortgage deed to Mr. Cliff.
WALTER MATHEWS . I am a leather manufacturer, of 4, Market Street, Bermondsey—prior to 1877 the defendant was employed by my father in the works, and ultimately became a partner—in March, 1877, after my father's death, the defendant entered into partnership with my brother George Robert Matthews and my mother Mary Fanny Matthews, and remained in the business till the autumn of 1888—the signatures in these two deeds (Produced) dated June 20th,' 1887, are in the defendant's writing—my brother died in October, 1900, and my mother died in July, 1900.
Cross-examined. The first notice I had that Yeo was going to leave the firm was when I overheard a conversation between him and my brother, that he was going to become managing director of another firm which was formed into a limited company at the end of 1888.
upon some of her freehold property, and I saw Yeo then from time to time—some deeds had to be signed in connection with the loans, and Yeo had to sign one of them—in 1887 I was consulted by Mr. G. Matthews with reference to £5,000 being put into the firm by Mr. Fenwick, and these two deeds dated June 27th, 1887, the one a mortgage deed and the other a partnership deed were drawn up and signed in my presence by the defendant and Mr. Matthews, and then sent to Italy to be signed by Mrs. Matthews—I was communicated with in May last by the defendant's solicitors as to whether I could recognise the prisoner, as an action had been brought against him for the recovery of the loan of £5,000, and a question was raised by the prisoner as to the genuineness of his signature and I at once recognised him after looking at the deeds and the various papers in connection with them.
Cross-examined. The first time I saw him was when he executed the—deeds in 1887—the drafts were sent to Mr. Matthews with a request that they should be carefully read by him and his partner Mr. Yeo.
Re-examined. I knew at that time that Mrs. Matthews was abroad.
GEORGE MOSCROP ROBINSON . I am a chartered accountant—on May 31st, 1888, I drew out this balance-sheet (Produced) of the firm of Matthews and Sons, showing £1,241 18s. 6d. standing to the credit of Henry Yeo—I also produce a letter from Yeo to Matthews and Sons dated July 30th, 1889: "Referring to our conversation to-day, you can place the sum of £1,241 18s. 6d. standing to my credit to the reduction of bad debts account as arranged to-day."
JOHN FORRESTER PARK . I am a clerk in the Companies' Registration Office—I produce the file in reference to the registration of the company of Powell and Sons, Limited, of which Yeo was the managing director—the company was registered on September 26th, 1888.
PHILIP HENRY GEORGE . I am a clerk in the Companies' Winding up Department, Bankruptcy Buildings—I produce the file in the winding up of Powell and Sons, Limited, dated January 3rd, 1893, in which the prisoner states that his share of the profits in the firm of Matthews and Sons was 16/32; that Mrs. Matthews had 15/32, and G. R. Matthews 19/32 part.
AUGUSTUS FREDERICK MILES . I am sole partner in the firm of Belfrage and Co., the prisoner's solicitors—I produce a deed of assignment dated May 23rd, 1902, in which Henry Yeo assigns all his property to his son William for £2,000, with a reservation that the prisoner is to be entitled to repurchase within a period of three years—the action of Cliff v. Yeo was in the list for hearing, I believe, on June 9th this year.
Cross-examined. I received instructions to prepare the assignment of the defendant's property in March last—the defendant's son had £450 of his own in his father's business.
FRANK FREDERICK FURNISS . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Barton and Pearman, Solicitors, 10, Norfolk Street, Strand, agents for Messrs. Scatchered and Co., Solicitors, of Leeds—we were instructed by that firm to conduct the action of Cliff v. Yeo—this letter (Produced), dated July 31st, 1900, is from Messrs. Scatchered and Co., to Yeo, demanding the payment
of the £5,000 and interest—this (Produced) is a letter, dated January 17th, 1901, from Yeo's solicitors, stating that they should like to see the deeds, and they attended by appointment on January 31st and February 12th, and inspected them; and we subsequently received a letter from them stating that the signatures to the deeds were not in their client's writing, and that he had never seen them before, and that they were forgeries—upon that a writ was issued between Cliff and Cliff and Henry Yeo, and a summons taken out under Order 14—the summons was heard before Master Kaye, and an affidavit sworn by Yeo was produced, and the Master gave him unconditional leave to defend, with costs—the action was set down for trial on February 8th, 1902, and was in the list for hearing on June 9th, 1902—on June 7th, we received a letter from Messrs. Belfrage and Co., stating that Mr. Yeo abandons his defence, as he felt he could not continue to rely upon his own memory in face of the fact that Mr. Howse was in a position to prove his signatures to the document—we obtained judgment and put in the Sheriff, who had to leave on account of the production of the deed of assignment of Yeo's property to his son, and we never recovered anything—we then laid a case before Counsel and these proceedings were taken.
Cross-examined. We were instructed to consider taking criminal proceedings on the day the case was in the list for hearing.
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath said that he had no recollection whatever of having signed the deeds in 1887, and that when he swore to the affidavits he honestly believed they were true; that he had given instructions to have his property assigned when he knew the action was coming on for trial.
GUILTY . He received a good character. Judgment respited.
FOURTH COURT—Friday, September 12th, 1902.
Before Alexander Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
JOHN HADLAND . I am employed by Messrs. Muller, Limited—on August 25th I gave a parcel containing 26 1/2 dozen bellows, half a dozen ice bags, and other articles, value £8 5s., to William Thomas, to deliver to Messrs. Hovenden and Sons—it was not delivered.
WILLIAM THOMAS . I am 16 years old and am employed by Messrs. Muller—on August 25th I was given some goods to deliver—as I was walking along Holborn Viaduct, the prisoner asked me to get him some stamps, saying that he would mind my parcel—I went, and when I returned he and the parcel were gone—I went back and told my employers.—the next day I was sent with a dummy parcel, and a detective was following me—I saw the prisoner on Holborn Viaduct—he crossed the road and spoke to another man—I pointed them out to the detective and he arrested them.
Cross-examined by' the prisoner. You were wearing a moustache on the first day but not on the second—I recognised you by your dress.
CHARLES GREENOUGH (Detective Officer). On August 26th I followed Thomas along Holborn Viaduct, and saw Jackson and Pasotti—Thomas identified Jackson as the man who had stolen his parcel, and I arrested him—when formally charged he made no reply—I searched him and found on him the Bank of Engraving note produced.
Cross-examined. I did not see you and Pasotti get off a 'bus (See next case)—I did not see you make any attempt to rob.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I was leaving the Hotel Metropole when I met my friend Pasotti; I asked him to accompany me as far as Ludgate Hill to see if we could get a day or two's work at the Crystal Palace. We left the bus at Holborn Viaduct. As I crossed over on the pavement I discovered my friend had got off on the other side. When I discovered he had made a mistake I was going across to him, and as I was passing over I was taken by the shoulder by the police constable. I am not guilty."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was an American, and a cook; that he had been employed at the Hotel Metropole 2 1/2 years, and at the Central Hotel, Glasgow, nine months; that he was quite innocent of the charge, and was not in Holborn on August 25th; that he had been put up for identification seven or eight times, and had only been picked out by two boys after great hesitation; that he never wears a moustache because he is not allowed to; and that the Bank of Engraving note was given to him at Windsor races.
CHARLES WILLIAM BAKER . I am foreman packer to Messrs. Stapley and Smith, 128, London Wall—on August 25th I gave a parcel containing eighteen pairs of stays value £2 19s. 10d. to Henry Smith to deliver to Messrs. Osborne and Co.—it was not delivered.
HENRY FRANCIS GEORGE SMITH . I am 15 years old, and employed by Messrs. Stapley and Smith—on August 25th, about 3.30 p.m., I was given a parcel to deliver—as I was walking along Redcross Street, the prisoner asked me to get him some stamps, and gave me twopence for myself—I went, leaving my parcel with him—when I returned he and the parcel had gone—I next saw him on August 26th, at Snow Hill Police Station, and identified him.
Cross-examined. I had no difficulty in identifying you—you had a little hair on your upper lip—you were wearing a dark suit.
The prisoner repeated his former defence. GUILTY . Three years' penal servitude.
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
Mile End, and help him in his business—on August 22nd I was given a parcel containing two costumes value £3, to deliver in Friday Street, E.G.—when in Cannon Street Pasotti asked me to get him. Sixpenny worth of stamps, for which he gave me 8d.—I left my parcel with him while I went, and when I returned both were gone—I next saw him on the 25th in custody, and picked him out from a number of other men as the man who had spoken to me.
Cross-examined. Abrahams may have walked up the ranks two or three times before identifying you—you were not identified at Guildhall when on remand.
GUILTY . A conviction on December 13th, 1901, was proved against him. Two years' hard labour.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PICKERSGILL Prosecuted; MR. COHEN Defended.
ALEXANDRA MAINGOT . On June 12th I was caretaker of St. Peter-in-Chains, Hornsey—on that day I left the inner door securely fastened, the outer door was open—there are two offertory boxes kept by the door and two by the altar—they were intact when I left.
ARTHUR LEEKS . I am a builder's foreman, of Knowle Road, Wandsworth—on June 12th I was engaged on the outside of St. Peter-in-Chains—about 1.30 p.m. I saw three men enter the church—I followed them in—one was standing in the entrance and the other two were on the altar steps—when they saw me they caught hold of and started punching me—I secured one and he was convicted at this Court last Session—the other two got away—I could not identify them.
FREDERICK ROLFE . I live at 53, Cleveland Street, Marylebone—on June 12th I was at work with Leeks on St. Peter-in-Chains Church—about 1.30 p.m. I saw three men go into the church—I was on the scaffolding, about thirty feet up—the next thing I saw was Leeks wrestling with one of the men in the roadway—the other two got away—I am certain that Johnson was one of the men.
Cross-examined. I have seen the prisoner four times, first when he went into the church, second when he came out, third, when I identified him and fourth to-day—the three men were loitering about, and as there had been a robbery at the church two or three weeks before they aroused my suspicions—they were in the church about five minutes—they came out one at a time, the prisoner second—I took no steps to secure them, I am not supposed to leave work unless I have orders—Johnson came back in half an hour, but disappeared as soon as he saw us move.
SIDNEY KENDALL (Detective Y.) On June 12th I examined the Church of St. Peter-in-Chains—I found an entrance had been effected by forcing the two inner doors—the four offertory boxes were broken open—I was present on July 23rd, when Rolph identified the prisoner, also on the 30th, when the constable identified him.
HENRY COBHAM (110 Y.) On June 12th I was called to St. Peter-in-Chains Church, and a man was given into my custody—in the evening I went to 98, Moray Road, Holloway—I saw the prisoner just going into the house—I caught hold of him, but he tore away, leaving a piece of his coat in my hands, and shut the door—I blew my whistle, and with assistance searched the premises, but could not find him—on July 30th I saw him at Southwark Police Court, and immediately identified him.
REV. CHARLES HANNIGAN . I am a Clerk in Holy Orders attached to the Church of St. Peter-in-Chains—there are four offertory boxes in the church—the previous evening I had noticed 1s. 6d. in one of the boxes—the following morning I found that the box had been broken open and the money taken.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a pianoforte string maker; that he was not in Wrightman Road, Stroud Green, on June 12th, and did not know the place; that he was at his mother's house, 98, Moray Road, between 1 and 5 p.m.; and that he ran away when the constable tried to arrest him because he thought as he had been previously convicted he would come on to him for his licence.
Evidence for the Defence.
MRS. PARK. I am the prisoner's mother—I have been married twice—the prisoner has been living with me for about twelve months—on June 12th he was at home at 1 o'clock to dinner, and stayed till 1.30.
Cross-examined. I remember June 12th, because in the evening the police came to my house to arrest the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY . (See page 950.)
OLD COURT—Saturday, September 13th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. MUIR and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
FRANCIS ALLRIGHT (Detective Y.) L produce the plan of the rooms at 524. Oxford Street, and a bullet with paper adhering to it—I examined the scullery door and found an indentation 1 ft. 3 in from the bottom and 10 in from the side—I found a hole in the reverse side of the partition, which is of wood and plaster covered with canvas and white paper.
the prisoner and the prosecutrix, which he had translated from the French and Italian languages.
SIDONIE GIRAUT (Interpreted). I am the daughter of a merchant tailor in Nice—I assisted my father in his business—the prisoner came as his servant in October, 1899—he made love to me some time afterwards—my father and family did not know of it—we conversed in the patois of Nice—he promised me marriage and seduced me—long afterwards, having asked him many times, he told me he was married—then I desired to cease my relations with him.—they ceased for some time—I resumed them—he annoyed me all the time not to leave him—he had my letters—he said he could not live without me, and that he would kill himself if I broke off with him—he threatened to send all my letters to my family—the relations continued till I left France for England—then he came to assist my brother, who carried on business at 524, Oxford Street, on June 2nd—I lived at first with my brother at Shepherd's Bush—I received a post card from Paris—I sent the prisoner this letter on June 17th in answer to his letter, a card he had left, and another card of his friend Corradi: "Mons. Jean, I will see you this evening or to-morrow evening at 8.30 opposite Schepherch Buchs; don't speak to me except I am alone and when I leave my friends. I am always accompanied. J. M."—I always sign "J. M."—he sometimes called me Mora—I also received this letter commencing, "My ever adored Mora"—it is not true that I ever wanted him to kill me—I did say that rather than leave home with him I should kill myself, because I did not want to five with him as he was a married man—[The letter complained of her addressing him as" "Mr.," and contained affectionate expressions, and added, "You wanted me to kill you, but my strength failed me,"and continued, "Do you think, perchance, that you took away all the letters. There are others, even at this moment I have one in my hand, and all the most compromising I have in the drawer, &c."]—after some further correspondence I arranged to meet him, and a meeting took place on July 4th at Shepherd's Bush—I felt compelled to see him in order to finish the relationship—he asked me to leave my brother and live with him—I said I should never consent to live with him, and that the best thing he could do was to go back to his wife—he implored me not to give him up—he was in the habit of always threatening me—I replied that in this country I was not afraid of him—he threatened to send my letters to my sisters and to expose me and dishonour me in my native place and he insulted me all the time—after that interview I received this letter. [This contained passages, "My love, it is impossible for me to tell you in writing what I am suffering by your decision of Friday. No, no; it is not true. You have put me to a very hard test, but I love you still all the more * * * * I conjure you, I pray you not to make me die of a broken heart. I cannot leave you."]—I wrote this letter to him in reply—[Read: "Dear beloved friend, I am very sorry to see you suffer on my account, and I too suffer much; but what is the use. I could never begin again the life I led for two years. What I went through in those two years is incredible * * * I would sooner die than submit to such martyrdom. You were always a brute to
me instead of a reliable and devoted friend * * * You always took advantage of my weakness, and I must say you have done everything to ruin me. I can't help it. Now I fear nothing. I have gone through everything. You have always thought of yourself and have sought only your own convenience. I will send you a line or do my best to see you as soon as possible. Forgive me if I have caused you pain, but I love you and always shall love you—your little Mora."]—I made an appointment and met him on Friday, July 11th, when there was a repetition of the interview at Shepherds Bush—I met him again the following day, Saturday, for him to give me my money which he had and which he promised to do on the Friday—on Saturday he promised to give it me on the Sunday—I arranged for him to come to 524, Oxford Street, for that purpose, and he said that if I would not go out he would say good-bye to me for good there—on Sunday afternoon, July 13th, I was at home alone—he came between 6 and 7 p.m.—I saw him in the street opposite the house—I went down and opened the door for him—I invited him to come over—he crossed the road and came into the house—he asked me whether I was alone—I said, "I am alone, my brother and sister-in-law are away, but they will be back soon."—he walked in before me—we went up to the front room on the first floor, and talked in the reception room about the business in the house—then we went on the second floor where the work was done—I showed him the premises, the workshop, and so on, and afterwards we went to my bedroom on the third floor and sat down—he implored me to accompany him back to Italy—I said, "I have taken my resolution and determined not to go away, not to come with you"—when he saw that I would not go abroad with him he invited me to come to his room in Dean Street, then he would write from his room to my brother and sister-in-law and tell them that I was living with him—I said I would not—he produced a packet of letters wrapped in green paper, and a letter outside the parcel in an envelope—he said, This letter is addressed to your brother"—I said to him, ""What is that letter?"—he showed it to me, and said, "I am going to read it to you"—I said. "No, I want to read it myself, because you won't read what is actually written—he did not consent to that—I tried to take it in order to read it—I succeeded in taking the parcel of letters—then he re-took them—a part of this letter remained in my hand—when he had re-taken the letters I tried to get possession of them again, and when he succeeded in getting the letter he tore it to pieces—here are the fragments (Produced)—it is addressed to my brother—he threw the pieces by the window of the back room—it is his writing—(Read) "Monsieur Jean—For three years we have not been able to separate. Our carnal relationship has driven us to death which we go to meet with joy. It is better to die than to suffer so much. We could not (blank). Forgive our resolution. As to us we embrace death with a smile. We were to have committed suicide on March 27th, in the Rue Reparate, Nice, but did not do so on account of relations. Now that we are at a distance we take advantage of the occasion to put our plan into execution. Send letter and post-cards, "and on the back was written 'Forgive us and have
words of comfort for your relations,—Most devotedly, Jean Sartori, Cagllionie, 71, Dean Street, Room No. 17"—I only knew the prisoner as Jean-Baptiste Sartori—I succeeded while he was throwing the pieces out of the window in hiding the parcel of letters in the bed, but he got them back—when he returned from the window he wanted to re-take the parcel which he had put in his pocket—I was seated at the foot of this bed crying and he wrote on this piece of paper produced, "I am content to die," and wanted me to sign it—there was no ink, only some red tincture in a little flask on my mantelpiece—I refused to sign it—he implored me—I resisted, he seized my hand—it was on a whole sheet, but this is a part of it—I had not time to read what was written—the prisoner wrote it and forced me to sign it—the word "Sidonie "is not like my ordinary writing—he had my hand—he put it somewhere—afterwards I tried to again get hold of the letters—he was quite close to the window—I tried to put my hand into the inside pocket of his vest—I had already succeeded in seizing the parcel—then he seized my hand and resisted—then I felt that he let my left hand go and I received a shock I am unable to describe, like an electric shock, and I felt pain on my left cheek—he was standing quite close to me—he held me all the time with the other hand—he said, "Take this"—then I said, "You scoundrel, what have you done?"—I raised my apron to my face and—turned to run away—I looked round to see whether he followed me and received a second shot at the back of my neck—I was then between the foot of the bed and the mantelpiece on the way to the door—when I received the first shot I was facing the window—he turned his back to the window in the open space between the bed and the window—I was wearing this blouse—here is the hole in it—it was almost new, I had hardly ever worn it—I felt a burning at the back of my neck later, more than at the moment—there is a burnt spot there—after the second shot I wanted to rush out of the room, but I became faint and fell against the wall on my knees—I wanted to get hold of the bed when I was falling, but did not succeed—I was between the door and the bed—I turned round and feel sure I was shot at a third time, but I was not hit a third time—when I left the hospital the first thing I did was to go and have a look at the room, and I saw the bullet-hole in the wall close to the spot where I was—when I turned round the prisoner was facing me and nearly at the back of the room between the mantelpiece and the door; there is a wardrobe in the wall—when he fired the first shot he was close to the window and facing me, he advanced a little to fire the second shot, and when he fired the third he was nearer the door of the wardrobe than the mantelpiece, nearer the box—after the third shot I succeeded in entering my brother's bedroom because the door was open—the prisoner came after me to enter that room as well—I had time to close the door, and put my foot against it, and my hand—he tried to open it, but did not succeed—then I heard him return to my room, and I heard another shot—I left the room and opened my bedroom, door, and saw him standing before a box trying to work the revolver—he said,
"I cannot make it go; wait, I cannot make it work"—then I left—I went to the first floor, turning round all the while, because I was afraid he would be after me—I wanted to write some words to my brother saying that I had been murdered, I thought I was going to die—I went to the front room on the first floor—I wrote this in the reception room, "A coward and a villain"—I was bleeding (The paper was produced smeared with blood.)—while I was writing I suffered an intollerable thirst; I wanted to go down to the kitchen to drink some water, but heard a noise at the door and opened it, and saw the police—I sat on the stairs and made a sign to them to go upstairs—I was taken to the hospital and put to bed—I felt something slipping down the back of my neck and found this bullet—this is the prisoner's writing, "July 10th—Dearest Brother,—I have spoken to my girl to-day, and as I cannot make her mine we have resolved on suicide, which should take place on Sunday at her house, she not being willing to die in my room, so at her earnest request I accepted the proposal"—that is not true—(The letter also asked the brother to take possession of his personal property.)
Cross-examined. Before Thomson or Robinson entered I re-entered my room and saw the prisoner lying upon the bed with blood on his face—he told me to come to him and kiss him—I first knew him in October, 1899, when he came to work in my father's business—in July we became very friendly with a view to marriage—I was uncertain and wanted to know, but it was not till very late that he told me that he was married—after insisting he told me in September, 1900, that he was married—I met him at Shepherd's Bush on July 4th, when he threw himself on his knees and implored me not to leave him—he did that also when he was in my room—on July 13th he was excited, and confessed that he had been dishonest against me, and had not acted honourably with me—in Nice he was living as a workman tailor—I thought he was dead and went back into my bedroom to see—I felt sure that he had shot himself—he had not asked me to commit suicide—he said before he showed me the letter and the parcel of letters, that he was going to commit suicide—he said he wanted to give the parcel of letters to my brother with the other letter to show that I had intimate relations with him—my brother's name is "Jean."
SARAH BOIZOT . I am the wife of Charles Victor Boizot of 71, Dean Street—on June 14th the prisoner and another Italian engaged a room at my house, which was occupied till July 11th or 12th—I afterwards searched the drawers and found the cartridges produced—I handed them to the police.
PAUL KUHNE . I keep a restaurant at 10, Marshall Street—the prisoner used it for four or five weeks—about ten days before the shooting affair he gave me this letter to post (The letter to his brother) and 4 1/2d.—I said it was impossible as it was a Sunday, and he said, "It does not matter till Monday"—I saw him again on the Monday night—he said, "Have you still got the money?"—I said, "I have"—he said, "That is all right; if I do nut turn up again post it, but it does not matter for a day or two"—the last time I saw him was on the next Friday, July 11th.
WILLIAM HENRY THOMSON . I am an artist—my studio is at 524, Oxford Street—there is a passage common to both houses—it does not communicate with the upper rooms—about 7.45 p.m. on July 13th I heard three reports of fire-arms echoed from an opposite direction to Giraut's rooms—after the second report I heard the screams of a woman or child—I went to the top of my stairs, and to a door that leads on to the leads or flat roof from which you can see the staircase through Giraut's window—I saw a woman staggering down the stairs—then I heard a bell ring and a knock at my door—I went down, and in opening my door saw the victim standing at her door covered with blood—I opened the outer door and admitted the police.
JEAN GIRAUT . I am a tailor of 524, Oxford Street, and brother of Sidonie Giraut—in May last I sent for her to assist in my business—I was living at 23, Bertram Gardens—I moved to Oxford Street on July 5th—on July 13th my wife and I went out about two o'clock—I left my sister in the house—she was quite herself and not excited—when I came back about 9 p.m. I found the police in possession—the next day I examined the back room on the third floor, and I found this empty cartridge—outside the window I found this torn letter—the plan produced shows how the furniture was arranged in the front room on the third floor.
SAMUEL ROBINSON (269 D.) About 8 p.m., on July 13th, I was sent for to 524, Oxford Street—I saw Thomson—Sidonie Giraut was on the stairs—she had blood on her face—I assisted her to the landing and made a search, and in her bedroom on the third floor I saw the prisoner lying on the bed in a crouching position, bleeding from a wound in his head, and unconscious—this revolver was on the bed on the right hand side—I picked it up, and gave it to another constable.
FRANK MORRIS (Sergeant 31 D.) On July 13th I went to 524, Oxford Street—I went up to Miss Giraut's bedroom—I examined the wall at the head of the bed—it was smeared with blood—this revolver was lying on the right hand side of the bed—it contained five empty cartridges, which I extracted—they correspond with those Miss Giraut produced—I I found three spent bullets, one between the window and the foot of the bed, one between the foot of the bed and the wall facing the door in Miss Giraut's room, and one in the next room on the floor, having apparently penetrated the wall and struck the panel of the door, leaving a mark on the panel of the door corresponding with the hole in the wall—I produce a fourth bullet handed to me by Dr. Tylor—the bullets correspond in size with the cartridges, but some are damaged and do not exactly fit.
MAX TYLOR . I am house surgeon at St. George's Hospital—on July 13th the prisoner and Miss Giraut were brought to the hospital together—Giraut as unconscious—the prisoner was excited—he had been bleeding a good deal from a wound on the right side of his head—he seemed quite sensible—his right temple was contused and blackened—I examined the wound—the bullet had flattened against the skull—I extracted it—the wound could have been self-inflicted—his lip was cut, and an upper front tooth broken off—the wounds were clearly from two different shots with bullets similar to those produced—this is the one I extracted—he made
a good recovery—he was discharged on July 23rd—the shots were dangerous, and would have killed him if the revolver had been a better one—Miss Giraut was also excited—a good deal of blood was on the left side of her face, from a punctured wound in front of her ear—the jaw-bone had turned the bullet—I examined and found no bullet—she Had a blackened graze on the back of her neck, the external skin was just removed—one bullet is in her neck now—the wounds could have been self-inflicted, but it would not have been easy to do it—I was present when a bullet was found in her bed—the wound in her face was dangerous and calculated to destroy life—she was discharged on July 23rd.
Cross-examined. If the bullet had penetrated the prisoner's skull it probably would have caused instant death—it looked like deliberate intention.
JOHN KANE (Police Inspector.) I found this Exhibit—Translated: "He is. a coward and a villain"—on Sunday, July 14th, on the top of a small bureau in a corner of the first floor front room at 524, Oxford Street.
ALBERT DRAPER (Detective Serjeant D.) I saw the prisoner at St. George's Hospital at the time of his discharge—I told him that I should arrest him for firing three shots at Sidonie Giraut, a young Frenchwoman, at 524, Oxford Street on July 13th, and also for attempting to commit suicide at the same time and place—he said that he only fired one shot at Miss Giraut, but two at himself; that he had no intention of killing her, but simply to wound her, but after firing he saw the condition she was in; he thought she was dead, and resolved to commit suicide—I found the letters from the prisoner to Miss Giraut in her room; this paper was on the floor torn into fragments, on which were the words, "I am content to die—Sidonie."
GUILTY . Fifteen years' penal servitude; and one month's imprisonment on the suicide indictment, to run concurrently.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, September 13th, and Monday, September 15 th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; and MR. FOWKE Defended.
By the Recorder's direction no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted; and MR. STEWART Defended.
GEORGE GIBBONS . I am a commission agent of 8, Bush Lane, City—last October my address was 48, Queen Victoria Street—I had known the prisoner to speak to for about a month before October, but had not done
any business with him—I met him about October 7th, and offered him some slates, as I knew he was a slate merchant—we had a discussion as to what I should sell him—this is the agreement; it is in his writing—I sent him slates, value £35 4s. 1d.—I got them from Wales—they arrived about November 13th, and I consigned them to Forest Hill Station, as asked for in the order, and wrote a letter the same day to him; this is a press copy (Stating that he had consigned two trucks, Nos. 55,060 and 37,431, to him at Forest Hill Railway Station.)—I delivered the account on November 8th—I met him early in December, and he paid me £3 on account—I wrote to him asking for payment, but got no answer until January 25th, when I got this letter from him (Stating that he had been away from home; that he was also pressed for money, but that he hoped to settle something next week.)—I did not get any money next week, and I placed the matter in the hands of my solicitor, and then sent another account to the prisoner—I got this letter from him, dated February 20th (Stating that he returned the account herewith, as he could not understand it, that he did not know how the prosecutor arrived at his prices and conditions, that he (the prisoner) had not had any invoices before he paid the £3, which was paid one morning on Rye Lane Station, as the prosecutor said there were some slates being unloaded, and he wanted the money to go to Wales with.)—none of my letters had been returned—I sued the prisoner in the City of London Court, and recovered judgment against him for £35 4s. 1d., less the £3 I had been paid on account—I did not get anything under the judgment—I examined the prisoner as to his means—I only knew him as A lies—I did not know he had any other initial—he was examined under the name of Alfred Iles—I did not then know that he was an undischarged bankrupt—I did not know it till after the case at the City of London Court, about two months ago.
Cross-examined. This was the first transaction I had with the prisoner; perhaps it was not the first business I sought to do—I was not pressing him early in 1901 to join me in a building speculation—I wanted him to take up an estate at Dartford—the only pecuniary interest I had in it was the commission on the sale—I was introduced to him at my own request by a Mr. Standon—I had some interviews with him after that, and I asked him for orders in the ordinary course of business—Standon, the prisoner, and myself did not have an interview in the street in which the Dartford speculation was discussed—I did not have lunch with Standon and the prisoner at an Aerated Bread shop in Cheapside—to the best of my recollection I never went into an Aerated Bread shop with the prisoner except on one occasion, when I had a cup of coffee with him in Chancery Lane—Standon was not there then—I do not know the bread shop next to Sangster's in Cheapside—the Dartford speculation was never discussed between Standon, the prisoner, and myself at lunch, because I never had lunch with them—I was not pressing the prisoner then, and he did not say, "No, it is no good; I have not got my discharge," or "No, I cannot enter into that kind of thing; I am undischarged"—I was only with them together once, and that was at my office, when Standon introduced the prisoner—I became interested in a slate quarry in March, 1901—it had been recently purchased by a friend of mine—the stock was in a very incomeplete
condition—I make inquiries about the people when they were going to buy the stuff—I inquired with regard to A lies, and found there was nothing against him—his name is Alfred Robert lies, trading as somebody else—he wrote to me as A lies—I was anxious to do business, and he immediately said he was a buyer of slates, and at once gave me an order—he said the lots in my catalogue were no good to him, because they were such odd lots—I might have had a second catalogue sent up, because we were continually increasing our stock—I do not know that he never got paid for the stuff sent to Forest Hill Station—it is quite easy to find out if a man is bankrupt or not if he is trading in his right name—the prisoner was trading as William lies and Son, and when I inquired if there was anything against A lies I was told "No."
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger in the High Court of Justice in Bankruptcy—I produce the file of proceedings in the bankruptcy of Alfred Robert lies—a Receiving order was made on July 20th, 1900, and it is ordered that the debtor Alfred Robert lies, described in the Receiving order as William lies, Son and Co., be adjudged bankrupt—the date of the adjudication is August 8th, 1900—I find no discharge upon the file—he is a slate merchant—his liabilities were £778 2s. 1d., and assets £479 8s. 6d.—there is a first and final dividend of 2s. 9d. in the £—he has never applied for his discharge.
Cross-examined. I do not know that the business was his father's.
ARTHUR ALBERT PUCKNALL . I am station-master at Forest Hill Station on the L.B.& S.C. Railway—I produce an office receipt showing the dispatch of two trucks, Nos. 55,060 and 37,431, on November 13 th—No. 37,431 was cleared on November 22nd and the other on the 23rd—they are both signed for by John Wordley—other goods have been there for Mr. Standon, and have been signed for by the same carman—I have only been station-master there since last February.
Evidence for the Defence.
DAVID JAMES STANDON . I am a builder, of Crofton Park, Brockley—I have known the prisoner about ten years and the prosecutor about the same time—I introduced them to each other in February, 1901, at the prosecutor's request in connection with some building land at Dartford, which the prosecutor wished to dispose of—he wanted the prisoner to take it up, and he would finance it up to the hilt—the introduction took place in the Aerated Bread Company's shop in Cheapside, next to the umbrella shop—I do not think the name is Sangster, I think it is Craford or something like that—the prosecutor asked the prisoner to take up the building contract, and the prisoner made a bit of a laugh over it, and said, "I have not got my ticket yet"—the prosecutor said, "Have you been like that; like a good many more of us"—the prisoner said, "I have not got my discharge yet, so it is ridiculous me talking about it"—I knew before that that he was an undischarged bankrupt, and I told the prosecutor so not very long before that interview-the prosecutor asked me if the prisoner
had anything to do with the lies at Camberwell, as he had known them for years—I believe that the prisoner is a brother of the lies at Camberwell—that is the only interview I had when they were both there—I was approached by the prosecutor with regard to this question last Thursday week—I heard that the prisoner wanted me up at the Mansion House last Thursday week—I went to the prosecutor's office—he was not in; I waited outside till he came—I offered to shake hands—he said, "I do not know as I ought to shake hands with you"—I said, "For why?"—he said, "Because what I say to you you go and tell lies"—I said, "No such thing"—he said, "I do not wish for any argument with you, if you want to know anything you had better come round to my solicitor"—I said, "Where is it?"—he said, "Mr. Clarkson, Ironmonger Lane"—we went round to his solicitor's—I asked Mr. Clarkson and the prosecutor the meaning of the prisoner wanting me at the Mansion House—Mr. Clarkson said, "Why, he has got over £20 worth of stuff without saying he was an undischarged bankrupt"—I said, "It is rather awkward for me, being a friend of Mr. Gibbons and Mr. lies, to go and tell what I know"—Mr. Clarkson got out the papers and said, "He says he has not had the stuff"—I said, "All I can tell you is that Mr. lies told Mr. Gibbons in the Aerated Bread Company in Cheapside that he was an undischarged bankrupt"; Mr. Gibbons had taken us in there and treated us to a cup of chocolate and a roll and butter—I did not say when it was—Mr. Clarkson never made any answer to that—he got looking over his papers—Mr. Gibbons said, "Well, I do not remember it; all you have got to say is the truth"—I said, "That is what I am going to do"—I went to the police-court; I was not called—the prisoner had no legal assistance then—Mr. Clarkson was there—when I was having that conversation with the prosecutor and Mr. Clarkson there was no one else present—neither of them made a note of the conversation in my presence.
Cross-examined. I have been more friendly with the prisoner than with the prosecutor for some time—I have not been working joint speculations with the prisoner—he has not done any tiling for me—I was working at Crofton Park last October; that is about two miles from Forest Hill—I do not know what the prisoner was doing then—he had no building on there to my knowledge—he did not tell me he had bought any slates—he did not ask me to remove any for him—I did not give instructions to a carman named John Woodley to take the slates away—he was not working for me then—he does not work for me—he had been working for me about Christmas, 1901,—he ceased just before Christmas—he has just come on again—I have seen him outside here this morning—I dare say he was working for me about November 13th—I cannot say when he was working for me—I used slates in my business—the prisoner did not tell me he was being sued for some slates by the man I had introduced him to—we had not been on friendly terms until just before this affair—he asked me to give evidence last Wednesday week—I went to his solicitor's office, and made a statement—I was going to the police-court to say that the prisoner had told the prosecutor in the Aerated Bread shop that he was
an undischarged bankrupt—I told Mr. Clarkson that I had been subpoenaed by the prisoner to go to the police-court, and that I did not want to go and waste the time, and that my evidence would be that the prosecutor knew that the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt last March—I might have said it was before March—I do not remember Mr. Clarkson saying to me, "I am afraid your evidence won't help the defendant, because the credit was given last year"—he told me I could say what I liked, and I said I should speak the truth—I came away with the prosecutor, and we had lunch together—Mr. Clarkson showed me the orders in the case, that was not to show me that they had been given six months before last March—it was to show me that the prisoner could not get no money from his friends—I know that an undischarged bankrupt must not incur a debt of over £20—I told Mr. Clarkson that there was no case, and he said, "Well, we shall try it"—I heard the prosecutor swear at the police-court that he did not know that the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt, and I heard the prisoner asked if he wished to call any witnesses—he wanted to call me only the ushers told him that it was no good—I went to get into the witness-box, and the policeman stopped me and said, "Leave your defence until you get to the Old Bailey"—the prisoner was anxious to call me—he did not say to the Lord Mayor, "Here is my witness who heard me tell him I was undischarged."
Re-examined. The clerk at the court said to the prisoner, "Your witnesses can speak at the Old Bailey"—Woodley is a casual labourer, and works for anybody—I have employed him many times, sometimes for twelve months, sometimes for a day or a week—he returned to my employment about a fortnight ago as the result of an application from him—I know that a subpoena was served on him by the other side.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the business was carried on as William lies, Son & Co.; that his father died in 1893; that when he was introduced to the prosecutor in the street by Standon they had a business discussion; that they went into an Aerated Bread shop; that the prosecutor asked him to take on some building at Dartford; that he said, "No, I cannot take on a thing like that, it is too much bother to me; I have not got my discharge," and that the prosecutor said, "I did not know it was like that"; and that he (the prisoner) never accepted the delivery of the slates as they were of no use to him.
Evidence in Reply.
HENRY WILLIAM CLARKSON . I am a solicitor of 9, Ironmonger Lane—I have acted throughout this matter for Mr. Gibbons—on September 4th Gibbons and Standon called upon me—Standon said, "I have been subpoenaed in lies' case at the Mansion House"—I said, "I have not subpoenaed you"—he said, "What is it all about," and I told him what the charge was—he turned to Gibbons and said, "I am between you and lies, and in an awkward position; I do not want to give evidence, but you know lies told you he was undischarged"—Gibbons said, "He did not"—I said, "Where"—he said, "In an A.B.C. shop right against your office last March"—I said, "Are you sure it was last March, six
months ago"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Then your evidence will be useless as the credit was six months previous to that"—I showed him the original order dated October 7th, and a letter dated January 25th promising to pay, and he said, "There is no getting over that; Iles appears to have been a fool all the way along."
Cross-examined. I am positive Standon said "last March," not "March last year"—I cannot give the date when Mr. Gibbons removed from 46, Queen Victoria Street to Walbrook—I did not take a proof from Standon—I made no note of the conversation.
G. GIBBONS (Re-examined). Standon introduced lies to me at my office, 46, Queen Victoria Street—I never had any conversation with them in an Aerated Bread shop—Standon never told me that lies was an undischarged bankrupt—I never said I would finance lies up to the hilt with regard to the Dartford property.
Cross-examined. I left 46, Queen Victoria Street, early this year—my office is now in Bush Lane.
The Jury here stated that they did not want to hear any more evidence
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
632. FRASER BLOXAM (74) , PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences 18s. 1d. from Clara Evelyn Chapman, 28s. 11d. from Richard Toogood, and other sums of money from other, persons with intent to defraud. Three years' penal servitude'.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, September 13th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY . He received a good character. Two months' hard labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Discharged on his own Recognizances.
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, September 13th, 1902.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. JENKINS defended LAMBERT.
HENRY KELLY . I live at No. 17, High Street, Bloomsbury—I am employed at the Savoy Theatre as a scene-shifter—on July 14th I left the theatre at about 11.45, and walked home through West Street—as I went along, this hammer-head (Produced) fell between my legs—I stooped to pick it up, when Lambert came up to me with twelve or fourteen others
—he took the hammer-head out of my hand and hit me a tremendous blow on the jaw with it, which nearly rendered me insensible—while on the ground I saw Lambert standing over me, and I begged for mercy—someone called out "Out him the bastard,"and Lambert gave me another blow on my face—I staggered up, and Wall hit me under my right ear, knocking me down again—they then made off—Mr. Heritage came to my assistance, and I followed the prisoners to Cambridge Circus—I do not know where the other men went to—I pointed out Lambert to Free-stone, who arrested him—while I was talking to the constable Wall hit me on my right eye with his fist and ran away—he was afterwards arrested—I was taken to Charing Cross Hospital suffering from a broken jaw, and remained an in-patient for a fortnight—I attended as an out-patient for a month after—I had never seen either of the prisoners before.
Cross-examined by WALL. I am positive you hit me while I was talking to the constable.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. West Street is a very quiet street—Lambert did not assist me to get up, he knocked me down—when I over-took the prisoners they were walking along in the ordinary way—when Lambert was given into custody he denied assaulting me, but said he had helped me—I can give no reason for the prisoners assaulting me.
Re-examined. From West Street to Cambridge Circus is about 200 yards—Mr. Heritage told me in which direction the prisoners had gone.
CHARLES HERITAGE . I keep a coffee-shop at 4, West Street—in the early morning of July 15th I was standing at the shop door with my dog, when a party of fourteen or fifteen men came into the street making a great noise—I stepped back into the shop as I was frightened—soon after I heard a cry of "Help"—I went out again, and saw them hitting Kelly—I heard one man say, "Let me give the b—r one for luck"—another said, "No, cone on, he has had enough"—they then ran away towards the Palace Theatre, leaving Kelly on the ground—I picked him up, and in consequence of what I told him he went off in the same direction—I recognise the prisoners as two of the crowd.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. They are strangers to me—I cannot say who struck Kelly—they were all hitting right and left—they all passed my door when they ran away, Wall and Lambert passing just in front of me—I cannot say whether or not Lambert went to pick Kelly up.
Re-examined. I had never seen Kelly before.
JOHN DEEDY (127 C.) On the early morning of July 15th I was on duty in Cambridge Circus—I found the hammer head produced at the junction of Church Street and Cambridge Circus, about 200 yards from Mr. Heritage's shop.
SAMUEL FREESTONE (398 C.) I was on duty at Cambridge Circus between 12 and 1 on the morning of July 15th, when Kelly complained to me that he had been assaulted—he pointed out Lambert, who was four or five yards away, as one of the men, and I arrested him—while I had him in custody I saw Wall strike Kelly on the left eye with his fist, and run away in the direction of Compton Street.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. When I arrested Lambert he said,
"This is all right, I helped that man, and this is what I have got for it"—the prisoners were walking along in the ordinary way.
FREDERICK LOVE (60 C.) I was on duty in Greek Street on July 15th, and heard a whistle blown—I went into Compton Street, and saw Wall running towards Water Street—when he saw me he stopped—I caught him and asked him what he was running for—he said, "Nothing; it was not me that hit the man, it was another man"—the prosecutor then came up, and I arrested Wall.
ALEXANDER MITCHELL . I am Divisional surgeon at Vine Street—I examined Henry Kelly on July 15th, and found that he was suffering from a double fracture of the lower jaw, one of the fractures being compound—several of his teeth were loosened and the inner sides of his lips were very much cut and bruised—one wound on the lip was three-quarters of an inch long—his face was also bruised very badly—he was suffering very much from shock, and was getting rapidly worse, so I ordered him to Charing Cross Hospital at once—the injuries could be caused with the hammer head produced or even with the fist itself—I think they were caused by two separate blows.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. A blow such as this might render a man insensible, but not necessarily—he would naturally suffer very, much from shock.
WILFRED BLANDY . I was House surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital on July 15th when Kelly was brought in—for four days he was in a serious condition—he remained as an in-patient till the 28th, and attended as an out patient for another month—there were two distinct fractures—it will be some months yet before he is completely recovered.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. A blow such as this must have been, would stun a man for a short time.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Wall says, "I made a strike at the man, but never hit him."Lambert says, "I am perfectly innocent. I never laid a hand on the man. Kelly's evidence is a pack of lies."
Lambert, in his defence on oath, said he had been to the Canterbury Music Hall, where he met Wall; that they were going home together, and in West Street he saw a crowd of young fellows hitting the prosecutor; that he called out, "Why don't you leave the man alone,"and they all rushed away; that he found Kelly unconscious and put him into a sitting position; and that he got as far as Cambridge Circus on his way home when Kelly gave him into custody.
Wall's defence: "I can only-repeat Lambert's evidence."
GUILTY . Five previous convictions were proved against each prisoner. Three years each in penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 15th, 1902.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. ELLIOTT and MR. WATSON Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, September 15th and 16th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
637. WALTER DOUGLAS WILLOUGHBY (25) , PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for obtaining by false pretences from Alfred Botting, Tertius Sills, and others, three corn bins, a quantity of hose, and other goods by false pretences. Twelve months' hard labour; and
(638) WALTER WILLIAM LINSCOTT (55) to obtaining by false pretences from Kenneth Atkin Ling and others, £52 10s. and other sums by false pretences. Nine months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Mr. C. F. GILL, K.C., and Mr. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted, and MR. MOYSES Defended.
ARTHUR THOMAS BOYLE . I am a cashier at the Holborn Circus Branch of the London City and Midland Bank—Messrs. Nicole Frere have an account there—Mr. Carl Hugo Kreiger is the managing director—I am familiar with the stamp of the firm, and with the managing director's signature upon which I pay accounts—on June 25th this cheque which purports to be drawn by Phillips and Son on Prescott, Dimsdale, Cave, Tugwell and Co., Limited, was presented with this exchange form for payment between 1.30 and 2 p.m.—I believed the signature on the exchange form to be Mr. Kreiger's—we oblige customers by occasionally cashing cheques—on his signing an exchange form, or a request to pay, without knowing the person the cheque is drawn to, and upon the faith of his signature—I paid this amount by £170 in seventeen £10 notes, Nos. 70911 to 70927, dated February 12th, 1902, and £15 in gold—in ordinary course the cheque was sent for collection to Prescott and Co. at their Cornhill branch—it came back marked "State on what account drawn."
Cross-examined. I cannot say that I ever saw the prisoners before I saw them at the Police Court—we were very busy when the note was cashed—I fix the time by the first cashier being out—he goes out about one o'clock and returns about 1.30 or 1.45—he follows me when I come in—I was there by myself and had to refer the transaction to the manager—I was taken to identify the person to whom I cashed the note—I do not recognise the prisoners—I believe the person was alone.
ARTHUR POLLEXFEN BROWN . I am a cashier to Prescott and Co. at Cornhill—on June 25th this cheques for £185 was presented—I wrote the words "State on what account drawn"—we have no customer named Phillips and Son—this cheque form, No. 9957, is one of ours issued in October last to Lord Cheylesmore, in a book containing Nos. 9101 to 10,000—the counterfoil has no entry.
CHRISTOPHER BOULT . I was valet to the late Lord Cheylesmore, and was with him on December 23rd, 1901, at Waterloo Station—amongst his luggage was a dressing case, which I had packed—it contained a cheque-book with cheques similar to this (No. 9957)—I put the case in a first-class compartment—my attention was taken away from the carriage while
waiting, and when I went back the case was gone—two men named Smith and Johnson were subsequently convicted at the North London Sessions with stealing the dressing case.
Cross-examined. I was present when Smith and Johnson were convicted—I have never seen the prisoners till they were at the Police Court—I always packed the cheque book.
KARL HUGO KREIGER . I am manager to Messrs. Nicole Frere, of 21, Ely Place, Holborn—we import musical boxes—I have only seen this cheque for £185 since this case—the signature on the exchange form is not mine—the stamp of our firm differs from this slightly—the imitation of my signature is good—I signed this cheque, No. 5, dated June 20th, 1902, for £1 12s. in favour of Dr. J. Goldie, on the London City and Midland Bank—it bears the genuine stamp of our firm.
Cross-examined. The detectives gave me a description of Dr. Goldie—they said he was oldish, but I do not remember about grey hair—three of my people saw him, Miss Gardner, Mr. Conquest, and Miss Inchcliff—I cannot think whether they said he was old or middle aged—they were asked to describe him in my office once—two gentlemen came.
EMILY GARDNER . I am employed in the showroom of Nicole Frere at Ely place—on July 19th, the prisoner Herbert, who gave the name of Dr. Goldie, of Fair Oaks, Salisbury, came and said he wanted two musical boxes for his niece to choose one from—I showed him some and he took two away—he was most peculiarly and shabbily dressed, wearing rather dark glasses like these produced—he wore a very old summer overcoat, very old patent leather boots, and a black and white muffler round his neck—he said he wore the glasses because the light was too strong for his eyes—he looked as if he needed shaving—he paid cash for both boxes and said that he might return one the next day, and it was arranged that he should have the money for the one he returned—he was there about an hour—the box at 32s. came back the next day with this letter, "Dr. J. Goldie begs to return accompanying musical box, as he has decided to keep the 25s. one. Please forward cheque for the balance (£1 12s.) and oblige, J. G. Kindly cross cheque Birkbeck Bank, June 20. 1902"—a stamped envelope was enclosed and addressed to 9, Broadway, E.C.—subsequently a detective came with Mr. Disney and spoke to me, and on July 11th I went to the police office, Old Jewry, and identified Herbert who was fourth in a row of eleven men, as Dr. Goldie—I heard him speak, which confirmed me.
Cross-examined. I have been with Messrs. Nicole Frere about five years—June 19th was a sunny and not a dark day—we were in a back room with a glass roof, very well lighted—the detective and Mr. Disney came about a week later, on a Saturday, about 12, in Mr. Kreiger's private office—I saw Goldie, I think, on a Thursday—Inspectors Holmes and Pentin came after I had given a description—I went on a Friday to pick Goldie out—I did not describe him as an oldish man with grey hair—we went separately to describe him—I have seen a photograph, but not before the identification—I was shown one by Holmes a fortnight or three weeks afterwards—the other men were similarly dressed and about the
same age—I saw the man I went to identify, and did not look at the other men carefully after that—I am quite positive Herbert is the Dr. Goldie who came—Conquest went to identify first, Inchcliff second, and I went third—it was from three to four o'clock, perhaps a little before three.
THOMAS HENRY CONQUEST . I am a clerk of Nicole Frere, of Ely Place—I was present when Dr. Goldie called on June 19th—I enclosed on June 20th a cheque for £1 12s. in a stamped envelope addressed to 9, Broadway, E.C.—I wrote a letter with it—I partly attended on Goldie—I saw him for about fifteen minutes—I failed to identify him afterwards at the Old Jewry, but I subsequently saw him at Guildhall—I am certain that Herbert Kennaway is Dr. Goldie.
Cross-examined. I saw about a dozen men from 45 to 50 years of age—Dr. Goldie's hair was nearly black, streaked with grey—I had described him to Mr. Kreiger—he struck me as being an oldish man—there was not a strong light—it was a hot day and we had the sun blind down—his peculiar manner of holding his head struck me.
FREDERICK WALTER EDWARD MYATT . I am a cashier at Messrs. Cook and Sons, Ludgate Circus—on June 25th I changed these ten £10 Bank of England notes into foreign money, about 2.30 p.m., Nos. 70918 to 70927—I asked him to write his name and address, and he wrote on the back of one note "H. Clee, 11, Queen Victoria Street"(This is the address of the solicitor to the Bankers' Protection Association.)—he was a short man.
Cross-examined. He was about 5 ft. 6 in.—I do not think it was later than 2.30—I failed to identify anyone at Snow Hill police station from about a dozen—I fix the time from the fact that it was before my colleague returned from lunch, and he returns at 2.30—he returned a few minutes before that.
JOHN STEWART (City Detective.) On June 25th I was near Cook's at Ludgate Circus about 2.30 p.m.—I saw just inside the doorway Gerald Kennaway looking towards the street—I made a note of that in my diary immediately I got back to the office.
Cross-examined. The traffic was very busy owing to the Coronation decorations—I knew him immediately without difficulty—he wore a blue suit—I was present when Conquest picked out a man about 45—I have been in and out of Court—I brought the property in and when told to go out I left.
Re-examined. I was passing Ludgate Circus towards Fleet Street.
RICHARD WRIGHT . I live at 22, Billiter Street—I am housekeeper at Billiter Buildings—I produce the lease of Safe No. 205 in the Safe Deposit in those Buildings, signed by C. J. Morton, of the West End Hotel, Arundel Street, who called on June 28th—one key was handed to the lessee—they are Milner's safes—I was present when Inspector Holmes came with a search warrant on July 16th—I saw him open Safe 205 with this key 1902—every renter enters the number of the key, and signs the signature book—three duplicate keys were shown to me with no name or number—one of them would open Safe 205.
Cross-examined. No visit had been paid to the safe since June 30th till Holmes came—the rent was paid on June 30th—the prisoners never
visited the safe—there is an entry of a visit, and that the rent was paid on June 30th, in a book kept for entering visits—I am housekeeper and manager to the safes—there are about 600 safes—we also have a Commissionaire.
EDWARD FRANCIS MOODY . I am assistant secretary to the Pall Mall Safe Deposit Company at Carlton Street, Pall Mall—I let Safe No. 1361 on January 1st to a person giving the name of Arthur Warrington, and the address the Hotel Metropole—on July 14th a man named William Cross brought this document—(An authority to take away the tin box of the safe,) and the key I had given Warrington—the tin box was taken out, and handed to Cross—I was subsequently shown by the police a duplicate of the original key—when we let a safe we only issue one key—the safes are Milner's make.
Cross-examined. Cross was kept waiting some time on purpose, while I sent for the inspectors.
WILLIAM CROSS . I am a boarding-house keeper of Hereford Road, Bays-water—on Sunday, July 13th, Mr. Donisthorpe, a solicitor, gave me this authority to the manager of the Pall Mall Safe Deposit Company and two keys—I went on the Monday—one of the keys opened the safe, and the other the tin box—when I came out the police spoke to me, and took possession of the tin box.
Cross-examined. I was kept waiting about three-quarters of an hour before the police came, but after that only a few minutes.
Cross-examined. Other sums were paid in to the credit of Tozer on that same day—the pass book is G 1673—I do not recognise the prisoners as paying this in—I have seen them.
Re-examined. We had an account in the name of Keene.
WILLIAM JOHN TOZER . I live at Bishop's Road, Paddington—I have an account at the Birkbeck Bank—I know nothing of the credit slip produced for £1 12s.—the cheque for it was never in my possession—I knew nothing of the transaction till the police informed me—I paid other money in cheques into the bank on June 28th on this credit slip—I made it out before I got to the bank—it has on it the number and letter of my pass book.
FREDERICK HOLMES (City Detective Inspector.) I was with Detective-Inspector Pentin when the prisoners were arrested on July 11th, about mid-day, on suspicion of forgery—I subsequently searched Gerald and found on him these six plain keys—one opens a safe at Pall Mall, and another a safe at Billiter Street, and two keys open the tin boxes of the safes—I found also this little pocket diary with an entry under a date in January of the name "C. J. Morton"—at Guildhall, on July 12th, the prisoners were represented by Mr. Donisthorpe, a solicitor—in consequence of inquiries on July 14th I went to the Pall Mall Safe Deposit in Carlton Buildings—I saw that Cross was down in the vaults—upon his coming out with this fin box I stopped him when he got in the street—I took him back to the waiting-room, and opened the tin box with a key I
had found on Gerald—then I went down to the safe, and found another key would open that—in the tin box I found this cheque-book on the London City and Midland Bank, Cornhill Branch, and two paying in books, one on that and the other on the Acton Branch; and £25 in gold—the account was formerly at Acton, and had been transferred to Cornhill in the name of Adam Smith—I found also a sheet of paper, on which was written the signature "F. Adam Smith," and it was partly made up as a cheque for £9 10s. to bearer—"Adam Smith "is on half the paper, and then there is a note of the Pall Mall Safe Deposit—a respirator was also in the tin box—Mr. Donisthorpe came to the station next morning, and after a conversation handed up this key for inspection only, but we retained it—on July 16th I had a search warrant from Guildhall, and went with it to the Billeter Street Safe Deposit—the original key that I had from Mr. Donisthorpe of Safe 205, with the name of Milner on it, and of which I had found a duplicate—I opened the safe, and then the tin box with one of the keys found on Gerald—I found in it the remnants of ten cheque-books on different banks, and amongst them the cheques and counterfoils of the cheques of Lord Cheylesmore's book, including the counterfoil of the cheque in this case, but with no entry on it—I also found ten exchange forms on Lloyds Bank, and a cheque-book of Mr. Mossel, and two or three cheques on which the signature is repeated, and cheques belonging to Mossel's account.
Cross-examined. The cheques were found in three envelopes—of the six keys I found on Gerald, four would unlock safes, and two would unlock the boxes in the safes—I found an ordinary latch key—two safe keys were duplicates—the tin boxes belong to the safes, but at Pall Mall the renter is allowed to take the box away—Donisthorpe told me that a man had put papers in the Billiter Street safe on July 5th in the name of T. Newington, 5a, Stafford Street, West—that is a turning on the right of Piccadilly—I have been there'; it is a newspaper shop where letters are left on payment of 1d.—I found a letter on Gerald relating to a betting transaction and £24—all his personal property was handed to his wife by his authority—I did not read his letter—I went to Herbert's address at Hastings, where he was living under an assumed name—I have not been able to find the musical box—a search was made at that address, no where else—the key I had from Donisthorpe had Milner's name and a number on—that is how I found the safe.
Re-examined. Cross left the original key in the safe—that is produced.
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting, practising at 59, Holborn Viaduct—these documents which I have had before me are the same writing: Memorandum of Gerald to Pentin of July 30th; telegram to Kennaway, "Come to 26, Old Jewry, as soon as possible. Broad Street Station and cab"; this letter, "Dear Donisthorpe, I and my brother have been arrested on a charge of forgery; will you come round and see us? Yours, Gerald Kennaway"; the writing in the pocket-book, "C. J. Morton"; the signature to the lease of safe, "C. J. Morton"; and the authority headed, "Hotel Metropole" and signed "Arthur Warrington," except the filling in of the receipt given to Pentin.
Cross-examined. They are palpably the same—I hare not suggested that they are disguised.
ARTHUR PENTIN (City Detective Inspector.) On July 11th, about 12.30, I was with Holmes, when we stopped the prisoners in Oxford Street—Holmes said, "We are inspectors of police; we are going to arrest you two men on suspicion of committing forgeries in the City"—Herbert said, "Very well"—in a cab on the way to the City, Gerald said, "I wonder you did not come to my house"—we took them to the Old Jewry police office and searched them—I asked them their names and addresses—Holmes addressed Gerald as Gerald—he gave me' the address, Gerald Kennaway, 22, Leander Road, Brixton—Herbert declined to give his address till he had seen his solicitor—he said, "I should like to know what is the specific charge of forgery you are going to charge me with"—Gerald said, "Yes, I know you detectives have a lot of licence, but I should like to know the specific charge"—I said, "You will be charged with forging an exchange slip and a cheque for £185 on the Holborn Circus Branch of the City and Midland Bank"—Herbert said, "I know nothing about any forgery on that branch or any other branch of that bank"—the same day Miss Gardner identified Herbert—when the charge was read Gerald said, "I am not guilty"—Gerald signed this receipt in my presence—at 22, Leander Road, Brixton, I found this hat-box—it contained a spectacle case and two pairs of spectacles, one of coloured glass—I found a silk skull cap, and a number of betting cards of the name of James Ward, 4, Duke Street, Adelphi, and Dover Road, Upper Walmer; also this violet pad for stamps—I went to 9, Broadway, E.C., Dr. Goldie's address—it was a hairdresser's shop, where they receive letters for 1d.—I saw Gerald write this telegram to Kennaway, and this letter to Donisthorpe.
Cross-examined. Amongst the letters found on Gerald was one referring to a betting transaction and £24—I will find it.
ALBERT EDWARD ROBINS . I am the manager of the London City and Midland Bank, Acton Branch—an account was opened there on February 14th, 1902, in the name of Francis Adam Smith, of 2, Hanway Street, dentist, by the prisoner Herbert—he gave as a reference the Rev. R. Davis, 17, Church Street, Richmond—I inquired—the reference was satisfactory—we gave him a cheque book, and paying-in book—he paid in £50, and on February 17th £45, on 25th £120, and on March 3rd he requested the account to be transferred to the Cornhill Branch—this is the request, signed F. Adam Smith—we have at all branches the same cheque, paying-in, and exchange forms—the exchange forms are on the counter—when he opened the account he had a beard and rather good teeth—he wore a muffler, a crush hat, and an overcoat.
Cross-examined. I was asked last night by Mr. Disney to come back this morning to give this description—I saw him once after he opened the account, while it was running, about March 1st—he appeared the same—his beard appeared evenly cut—when he opened the account I saw him
with the manager in the manager's room—he never asked for an exchange form.
Re-examined. His signature is on the transfer note, and on some cheques of our Cornhill Branch.
FREDERICK SMITH . I am assistant manager of the London City and Midland Bank, Cornhill Branch—on March 4th, an account in the name of F. Adam Smith was transferred from the Acton to the Cornhill Branch by this document—I recognise the prisoner Herbert as the man who gave that name—he had a dark hat on, a dark muffler round his neck, a short cropped beard, a clean shaved upper lip—he gave the address 2, Hanway Street, Tottenham Court Road—these are cheques from the cheque-book issued to him. [Found in the safe at Pall Mall.]
Cross-examined. One cheque is signed—there is still to his credit £79 8s. 2d.—one cheque has been honoured; he cashed that across the counter—one was presented and returned.
FREDERICK HOLMES . (Inspector, City.) 2, Hanway Street, is a small stationer's shop where letters can be left, not a dentist's—I also went to 17, Church Street Richmond, but did not find the Rev. Richard Davis.
The prisoner Gerald, in his defence on oath, stated that he knew nothing about the forgery; that he authorised a man named Newington to use his safe; that the duplicate keys were made to save troubling this brother who had the originals, as both used the safe; that he was at Ascot on June 19th, when he was said to be at Ely Place; that he waited at Cook's on June 25th to meet his wife, to see the decorations, but was not near the City and Midland Bank; and that he was a betting and inquiry agent which made it necessary to assume different names, characters, and addresses.
The prisoner Herbert, in his defence, staled that he had no knowledge of the forgery; that he was not at the places stated; that he was at Epsom with his brother, and that they assumed names and addresses for the purposes of their betting and agency business.
Evidence for the Defence.
EDMUND RUSSELL DONISTHORPE . I am the solicitor conducting this defence—I was first instructed at Guildhall Justice Room on the morning of July 12th—I had found a note awaiting on my arrival at my office—I have known Cross some time, and employed him on all sorts of occasions—on going to the cells on Saturday, July 12th, I asked for paper, and after discussing matters with the prisoners a short time, I said to Gerald, "How about costs in this matter?" He said, "I have a safe deposit at Pall Mall in which there is £25 in gold, I will write you an authority which will enable you to go there, and my wife will hand you the keys," and that he did not know which key belonged to which safe, and I should have to take both—he then wrote this authority to get the tin box—I handed that to Cross with the two keys, explaining that he would have to see which belonged to which—when Cross came back he handed me one key and explained what had taken place—I then went to the Old Jewry and asked for the £25, which I was refused—I gave up the other key—I told Holmes about Newington immediately before the second hearing at Guildhall on
Friday, July 18th—I told my client that the police had found something in the safe at Billiter Street, and he said, "Go at once and tell them they belong to T. Newington, of 5a, Stafford Street,"and I went there and then, and told them.
Cross-examined. My offices are at 6, Copthall Avenue—I have clerks—I do not recollect getting the letter stating, "I and my brother have been arrested on a charge of forgery"—I have very little experience in criminal business—it is not the usual practice to take letters from prisoners to the outside world, but this is not a letter in that sense—I noticed that the paper was headed "Hotel Metropole"—he told me of difficulties connected with the safe, and that he took it in that name and that address—it was nearly one o'clock on Saturday when I got the authority—I do not know Billiter Street—I have been in the City ten years Pall Mall is about half-an hour from the City—I afterwards wished I had gone there myself, but I had other business which I cannot explain without my diary—I did not attach importance to it, because my client said I need no the frightened, he would not mind if the police saw the case—I do not think I had it out of my pocket until Sunday when I met Cross—I had been calling at a client's house in Talbot Road, Bayswater, when I met Cross and as it just struck me, I told him to take it and the keys from his address in Hereford Road, Ealing, on the Monday to Pall Mall, if he had nothing else to do, and get the box, and bring it to me in the City—he is a boarding house keeper, and a carpenter, his wife has done dinners for me, and he has done several commissions for me.
Re-examined. It is not uncommon for such men to serve processes, and he has served County Court summonses for me.
WILLIAM SALES .—I live at 59, Camden Street, New Cross—I am a book-maker under the name of Morton and Sales—this is one of my cards—I bet on race horses—on the Gold Cup day at Ascot, June 19th, I was betting in the 10s. carriage enclosure—I had a dispute with the prisoners—one had £1 on Osboch, and when the race was run, he asked for £5 on William III.—I subsequently answered this advertisement in the Sporting Life (Produced), to communicate with the two men—in the dispute I said the best thing was to divide the money, and so gave them 50s. to settle the bet.
Cross-examined. Mr. Phillips, my clerk, showed me the advertisement—I never bet in the ring—there are two or three rings—there may be a £1 ring a 10s., and a 5s. ring—I am not a Welsher—I have no betting place in town—I occupy half of 59, Camden Street—there are eight rooms, I occupy three, the front and back parlours and the kitchen—Morton was my partner for some time, not C. J. Morton—I have not seen the prisoners again till now—I have not been in a Court before—I produce my book in which the race is entered and the numbers, we never put the name—there were six or seven starters—I have not been employed for ten months—in November I was manager's assistant at a betting club—I bet sometimes on the "tape" or the "table" at the club, and do all manner of things—the hall porter can bet if he likes—I might have been called the "hall porter" for five or six weeks, when the club had not a man to watch the door—I laid on the odds—
the club was in Laurence Pountney Lane—it was closed about eighteen months ago, not raided.
Re-examined. I identified the prisoners' photographs from others at once—the Gold Cup race was run at 3 o'clock.
GEORGE PHILLIPS . I live at 91, High Road, Lee—I follow racing, mostly as a clerk—on the Gold Cup day I was at Ascot "clerking "with Sales, a friend, making a book—this is the entry I made of that race—I wrote this letter of September 4th in answer to an advertisement in a sporting paper, and subsequently called at the solicitor's office, where I picked out the two photographs of the prisoners from four photographs shown me, without any difficulty—I remember the dispute as to the entry"4 to 1 on Osboch; "we never laid on William III.—the dispute lasted some time—the prisoners are the two men we had the dispute with.
Cross-examined. I was here yesterday, but not in Court—I looked round and expected to see the men in the dock—I had had experience in racing since 1887—I have been with Mr. Sales eight to ten years, off and on—occasionally we fell out, but last year we were together—I knew him when he was hall porter—he was there twelve to eighteen months—he went out occasionally—I went with him—I did not belong to the Club—I was employed by a man named Cole about a fortnight ago one day—I have worked for him several times; a week before for one day—he lives at 7, Highfield Terrace, Lewisham—I share a room as a lodger at six shillings a week—I share two rooms with a grown-up person and two children—there is no necessity to change the name in bookmaking—some people may show another horse entered than the one you have backed—we are not welshers—I do not bet at the British Museum or South Kensington—I do not know Karslake or Ward—a bookmaker need not disguise himself—what we want for that is identify.
HARRY PAYNE . I am a joiner of 219, Pentonville Road—I lodged with Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Kennaway at 22, Leander Road, Brixton, from January of this year—this hat box produced was used for all kinds of purposes—I had a pair of smoked spectacles and a pair of medium sight, plain—they were very mild, almost white—I bought them in my dinner time about a month ago in Farringdon Road, the smoked ones for sixpence and the plain for about two shillings—I was a lodger, when I returned one evening I heard the prisoners were arrested—I had to get to work at seven—I came back by tram from Blackfriars—two letters came; one was bulky and tied with string—they were addressed to Mr. Kennaway—I saw one letter opened—it contained four keys—Mrs. Kennaway took them to Snow Hill Police Station, where her husband was—I took them to Mr. Donisthorpe at Guildhall on the Saturday—I used the smoked spectacles biking.
Cross-examined. I never heard Gerald Kennaway called Gordon, I always knew him as Kennaway—I have heard the name of Keene connected with him—I lived with him nine months, till his arrest—I lived with him at 76, Honor Oak Park, Southend—I went to live with him about August, 1901—I worked as a joiner for Maple's, and for others—I did not know Gerald's occupation; as far as I know he was a commission agent
—I saved Mrs. Kennaway from being assaulted by a man in High Street, Islington—Mr. Kennaway thanked me; then we became acquainted, and I went to lodge with them—I am no relation—I never saw Herbert at Leander Road, nor till I saw him at Snow Hill Police Station—I had heard of him—I gave two of the keys to Mr. Donisthorpe about two p.m. on the Saturday, at his office—the keys were given me by Edward Kennaway, the prisoner's brother, when I was waiting for the wife to come up—I took her to the City on the Friday and saw the prisoners.
Re-examined. I also worked for Sage and Co., Smith and-Co., jewellers, in fitting up a stand at the Glasgow Exhibition—so far as I know the hat box was always at home—I cannot account for my spectacles getting' into it—it was pulled round the garden by our dog.
AMY KENNAWAY . I am the wife of Gerald Kennaway and now live at Honor Oak Park—we recently lived at 22, Leander Road, Brixton—Payne lodged with us, and used the same rooms—on the day before that fixed for the Coronation, I arranged to meet my husband at Cook's office, Ludgate Circus, to see the decorations—I had met him there previously—I could not keep—this appointment—on Friday, July 11th, the day my husband was arrested, I had three letters—one was fastened with string and had four keys in it—this is it and the envelope—I took them with me when I went to see my husband and get instructions—I gave two to Mr. Donisthorpe, and put two aside where I keep keys—they are warehoused with all my things, I having left the house—this hat-box was used to put all sorts of papers in and my husband's telegrams, and I put in bills; it was used as a sort of tidy—it was not kept locked because we all used it.
Cross-examined. I have known Payne two or three years—he lodged and boarded with us, and was a friend of the family—he is no relation—people might have implied that he was a half brother—I had heard of the person the keys came from, casually—I had seen him—he was rather stout and fair—he called early in July—there were two large and two small keys—I sent Mr. Donisthorpe the two large ones the first morning after my husband's arrest—I was at Guildhall—I have never seen Herbert Kennaway with a beard—my husband used the name of Ward for betting; no other names—the address was somewhere off the Strand—I understood that he did most of his betting business at A.B.C. places or hotels—I have missed the hat-box occasionally.
GERALD KENNAWAY then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court in May, 1900, of conspiracy to defraud. [See Vol. 132, p. 469.] Seven years' penal servitude each. The Court commended the police.
FOURTH COURT.—Monday, September 15th, 1902.
Before Alexander Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. COHEN Prosecuted, and MR. STEPHENSON Defended.
eating fish and potatoes—a woman came up and asked me to give her some, and I told-her to take the lot—suddenly I was seized from behind, both my arms were pinned down, and two pairs of hands held my throat, nearly strangling me—the prisoner came in front of me and took all the money I had, about 30s., from my pockets—they all then ran away towards High Street, and I followed—I did not lose sight of them until a constable caught the prisoner, and I gave him in charge.
Cross-examined. The court was rather dark—I had not seen the woman before—I am quite sure it was the prisoner who rifled my pockets—I did not hear him call out, "Stop thief," neither did he say to me, "What's up?"—I know 30s. was found on him when he was searched.
WILLIAM PECK (245 G.) I saw the prisoner with two others rush out of Mill's Court—I caught him and asked him what he was running for—he said, "I couldn't help it, I had to"—the prosecutor came up and said to me, "You have got the right man; that is the man who put his hand in my trousers pocket and took my money while the other two nearly strangled me"—I took him to the station and searched him, and found 34s. on him—he said that was his and his son's wages received that night—when the prosecutor came up the prisoner said, "I was running after the others"—when I first saw the prisoner he was about two yards in front of the others—he certainly was not running after them nor calling out against them.
Cross-examined. He did seem confused when he saw me running behind him, and stopped—I said so at the Police Court, but the evidence was cut short, I was told simply to state the charge—I ascertained that the prisoner was paid 30s. that day, also that he bears a good character and was in the Army twenty-one years.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was returning home through Mill's Court, and he met a woman who said to him, "What are they going to do with this man?"; that the prosecutor was held by two men, one in front and one behind; that he said, "Hallo"; that they ran off and he ran after them, and was stopped by the constable and charged by the prosecutor, and denied ever having touched him. He received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. JENKINS Prosecuted, and Mr. Thompson Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. JENKINS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT—Tuesday, September 16th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. MATTHEWS Defended.
MR. MATTHEWS said that the prisoner, on his advice, would PLEAD GUILTY to certain Counts;
MR. MUIR consenting, a verdict of GUILTY was taken on the 3rd, 5th, 7th, 10th and 12th Counts. Six months in the second division.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. BOYD Defended.
----WELLS. I am Superintendent Examiner in the Income-tax Claims Branch at Somerset House—claims for repayment of or exemption from Income Tax have to be made on particular forms, white forms for original claims and blue for renewal claims, which are obtainable at Somerset House or at the Local Surveyor of Taxes' office—those forms have to be filled up and signed by the claimant, giving his name and address and the particulars of the property out of which the Income Tax was payable—the body of the forms may be filled up by other people on behalf of the claimant, but they must be signed by the claimant personally in all cases—they are then sent to the local surveyor's office for verification, and he certifies as to the general accuracy of the claim—he then returns them to Somerset House together with vouchers to support the claim, such as Income-Tax collectors receipts or certificates of payment and deduction by a trustee in cases of annuities, and in cases where the collectors' receipts may be missing the surveyor would certify that the duty had been paid, and the claim, if satisfactory, is paid by Money Order; if over £20, by a "Receivable order cheque"—this Exhibit, No. 16, is a letter by A. E. Brocklebank, enclosing Exhibits 17,18, 19, and 20, being four abatement claims on behalf of his four clients, named Bland, of 28, Garfield Road, and addressed from 41, Broadway, Stratford—the claims are for three years' taxes, ending April, 1901, and the property is described as cottages in the parish of South Weald, Essex—in the 1898-99 claim, the words "Receipt mislaid "are written in red ink, and then a note "No occupation, no other income"—these Exhibits, 21, 22, 23, and 24, are authorities purporting to be signed by the four Blands respectively to pay the money to Brocklebank—they are in four different handwritings—No. 25 is a bundle of twenty-four collectors' receipts for different sums of money, each purporting to be signed by a Mr. Garrard—they were sent in corroboration of the claim—believing all the documents were genuine, I passed Exhibits 26, 27, 28, and 29 for the issuing of money orders.
WILLIAM BELL JOHNSTONE . I am a clerk in the Money Order branch of Somerset House—it is my duty to issue Money Orders in respect of Abatement Claims—these Exhibits, Nos. 26, 27, 28, and 29, in the name of Bland, each for £18 13s. 4d., were issued by me on the faith of the
documents passed by another official—they were cashed at the Stratford High Street Office on January 17th.
----WELLS (Re-examined.) I produce four Renewals, exhibits Nos. 35, 36, 37 and 38 in the names of the same persons and the same address for the year ending April last—they were forwarded to Somerset House with this letter (Produced) signed Brocklebank as in the former case, and these exhibits Nos. 40, 41, 42 and 43 are authorities signed Bland for the payment of the money to Brocklebank—I also produce a bundle of twelve collector's receipts for Income tax, signed "Garrard"—I passed the claims, believing all the documents were genuine.
Cross-examined. It is quite a common and legitimate practice for the Agent to fill up the claims in every respect except the actual signing by the person on whose behalf the claim is made, and we should not send any money unless the claim was properly vouched—I am quite satisfied that the prisoner did carry on a legitimate business apart from this particular case—we certainly had some genuine claims.
JOHN DILNUTT SLADDEN . I am a clerk in the Money order office, Inland Revenue, Somerset House—I issued these four money orders, exhibits 45, 46, 47 and 48, each for £9 6s. 8d. in the name of Bland, on the faith of documents passed to me by another official—they are each signed "A. E. Brocklebank," and were paid at the Stratford High Street Post Office, on May 5th.
FREDERICK WILLIAM SHEPHERD . I am in charge of the Post Office, 413, High Street, Stratford—on January 17th I cashed exhibits 26, 27, 28 and 29, each for £18 13s. 4d.—the prisoner is the person who received the money—on May 5th I also cashed and paid to the prisoner exhibits 45, 46, 47 and 48, each for £9 6s. 8d.
ALBERT EDWIN GOODWIN . I am Surveyor of Taxes in the Chief office—I had charge of the Stratford No. 3 district on July 23rd—I took possession of all the books in the office—a number of collector's receipts were missing—on the face of the Bland claims I find notes in Brocklebank's writing, such as "Receipts missing," "Receipts mislaid," "No occupation," "No other income"—we should accept those notes as correct, coming from a clerk in the office—those claims and renewals are all fictitious—I find nothing in the Assessment Register corresponding to the property mentioned in those claims.
WILLIAM GARRARD . I live at Pilgrims Hatch, South Weald, and am postmaster and collector of taxes—I know a Mr. Thomas and a Mr. Johnson there—this receipt for Income tax, exhibit 25, purporting to be signed by me is a forgery, as is also this receipt (Produced) from Mr. Johnson for £2.
ELIZABETH SAINSBURY . I am married and live at 28, Garfield Road, Chingford—I let apartments—about eighteen months ago the prisoner called and engaged a bedroom—he said he was a theatrical manager and asked me to take in any letters that might come for him—one letter did come—he never occupied the room.
certificate of payment and deduction, exhibit 93, signed by James Saunders of Chigwell, and describing the property as freehold in the parish of Chigwell—believing the documents to be genuine I passed the claim.
JAMES DILLON . I am an examiner in the Claims branch—I examined this Renewal claim, exhibit 94, accompanied by the certificate, exhibit 95, and an authority, signed "James Watson," for Brocklebank to receive the money—believing those documents to be genuine I passed them on for the issuing of a money order.
EDWIN CHARLES DODWELL (Re-examined.) I examined and passed Renewal claim, exhibit 98, in the name of Watson, together with the certificate, exhibit 99, the letter, exhibit 100, signed by Brocklebank enclosing them, the authority to pay, exhibit 101 and exhibit 102, which is a reply by Brocklebank to an inquiry from Somerset House.
MORTIMER O'CONNELL . I am a clerk in the Secretary's office, Somerset House—exhibit 129 is a money order for £16 issued by me upon a properly vouched claim signed "James Watson"—it was paid on December 13th, 1900.
ALFRED EDWIN GOODWIN (Re-examined.) I have examined the Watson claims—as in the case of the Bland claims, they are fictitious—there is no reference to the property mentioned therein in our books—I also see some notes, "No other income "in Bonchord's writing—he was a clerk in the Stratford No. 3 District office.
CLARA KNIGHTLEY . I live at a baker's shop, 1, Queen's Road, Buckhurst Hill—about eighteen months ago the prisoner came and asked if there were any letters for him—he gave the name of Watson—I said there was no one named Watson living at our shop—he said it was a wrong address, that there would be one and would I keep it for him—three letters came, which I handed to him when he called—two were private and one was marked "O.H.M.S."
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting—I have examined the various documents in this case, and compared them with the prisoner's handwriting, and I am of opinion that those signed in the name of Watson are in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. I am not able to say who wrote the name "Bland in the Bland claims.
Re-examined. I can give a reason for that if necessary—it is a very striking similarity.
belonged to my late father—in June, 1899, the prisoner Bonchord called and said he wanted the premises for his brother (the prisoner) for an Income Tax Agent's office—the prisoner subsequently called and took possession of the rooms—the yearly rental was £19 10s.—he gave them up last Christmas.
JOSEPH CATT . I am manager to Messrs. Norman, house agents, Stratford—in December last we let a room at 29, Broadway, Stratford, to the prisoner—Bonchord was with him—the name of "A. E. Brocklebank, Income tax Agency "was up on the door.
JAMES BUCKLE (Detective Sergeant.) On August 2nd, with Inspector Nearn, I saw the prisoner at Stratford Broadway—I asked him if his name was Arthur Edward Brocklebank—he said "Yes"—I read the warrant to him, he made no reply.
Cross-examined. It was about ten days after Bonchord had confessed that I arrested Brocklebank.
Re-examined. I received the warrant for Bonchord's arrest on July 25th—he had absconded, and I found him at Glasgow—on him I found this letter, exhibit 156, written by Brocklebank. (Stating that he had heard there were three "Tecs" after him (Bonchord) and that the office was being watched.)
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that what he had done was at the instigation of his brother (Bonchord), that he knew absolutely nothing about the business of an Income tax Agent, and had no knowledge whatever that anything was wrong.
GUILTY .— Eighteen months' hard labour. (See next case.)
645. ANNIE EDITH BONCHORD (28) and DOLLY SUMMERS (22) , Conspiring with Frank Bonchord and A. E. Brocklebank and others to obtain and acquire large sums of money from the Commissioners of Inland Revenue, with intent to cheat and defraud.
MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against ANNIE EDITH BONCHORD
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM ALBERT COLLINS . I am an Examiner at Somerset House—these claims, exhibits Nos. 64, 65, 66, and 67, in the name of Pearson, Myrtle Cottage, Forest Road, Loughton, and these certificates of deduction, Nos. 67. 68, and 69 were duly passed by me—I believed they were genuine.
House—I issued money orders 130, 131, and 132—they are signed in the name of Pearson and have been paid.
PHOEBE WOOD . I live at Myrtle Cottage, Forest Road, Loughton, and let apartments there—about twelve months ago the prisoner Summers engaged a room in the name of Pearson—she said she wanted it for one night for herself and her husband, and that if any letters came would I send them on to her, c/o Mrs. D. Summers, 63, Clapham Road—three official letters from Somerset House came, and I forwarded them to her in stamped addressed envelopes which she gave me for that purpose.
MARY SATTELL . I live at 142, Brixton Road, and let apartments—Summers engaged a room in the early part of this year in the name of Mrs. Pearson, and asked if I would take letters in, in the name of Pearson—some letters came from Forest Gate and Somerset House—she did not sleep in the room, she took it for the letters, and paid 5s. a week.
EDWARD HENRY LAMBERT . I am an Examiner in the Income tax Claims Branch—exhibits Nos. 77, 78, and 79 are three claims in the names of Margaret, John, and Francis Roberts, of Theydon Villa. Theydon Bois, Essex—they came with Receipts Nos. 80 to 85—No. 80 is signed "John Hampton," and the others are stamped "Joseph Cottis"—I allowed them, believing them to be genuine—I also passed Renewal claims 86 87 and 88, and the receipts which accompanied them—the addresses on the renewal claims are "12, Cowley Road, Brixton," instead of Theydon Villa, Theydon Bois, there has been a removal—I believed they were genuine at the time.
JOSEPH COTTIS . I am Collector of taxes for various parishes in Essex, including Horndon-on-the-Hill—I have never received any moneys in respect of these receipts, exhibits Nos. 82 to 85—I use an indiarubber stamp to stamp my signature—I have employed Bonchord to assist me, and have lent him the stamp for that purpose.
By the COURT. He has fraudently affixed my stamp to these receipts as if he had authority to do so.
By MR. BODKIN. Exhibits 90 and 91 are also bogus receipts—I have never had the money.
forward letters to them, should any come, to the S.W. or S.E. London district—three official letters came, and I forwarded them on.
LUCY ANN TANNER . I live at 12, Cowley Road, Brixton, and let apartments there—on May 10th Summers engaged a room in the name of Roberts, for the purpose of receiving letters—some letters came with "O.H.M.S." on them, addressed Mrs. Roberts, and J. Roberts, Esquire—she called and took them away.
GEORGE FAULKNER . I am an Examiner in the Income-tax claims branch, Somerset House—I produce exhibits 103, 104, and 105—they are three claims in the names of Edith Mary, Ruby Edith, and Ellen Matthews, all of 14, Valmar Road, Camberwell—two are for £18 13s. 4d., and one for £17 14s. 8d.—I also produce exhibits 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, and 111—they are receipts signed "J. Cottis," which accompanied the claims—believing them to be genuine, I passed the claims.
----LARCOM. I am an Examiner in the Income-tax claims branch—I produce Renewal claims 113, 114, and 115 in the names of Edith Mary, Ruby Edith, and Ellen Matthews, also Income tax receipts Nos. 116, 117 and 118, and a local answer to an inquiry from Somerset House, No. 119,—believing them to be genuine I passed them.
Cross-examined by Summers. You did not say you were expecting letters.
A. E. GOODWIN. (Re-examined). I have examined the Matthews claims—they are fictitious.
JAMES BUCKLE (Detective Sergeant.) On August 8th I saw Summers at Clapham Road, and asked if her name was Dolly Summers—she said "Yes"—I told her I was a police officer, and held a warrant for her arrest—I read it to her, and she said, "I know nothing about it"—this letter, exhibit 30, from her to Brocklebank, was handed to me by the Glasgow-police. (Stating that she hoped he would be able to get everything arranged during the next few days.)
Summers, in her defence on oath, said that she did not know the nature of the business; that Mr. Bonchord had given her to understand that whatever he was doing was perfectly honest and upright, or she would have had nothing whatever to do with it; that he told her he had had the claimants, permission, and would do nothing but what was upright and honourable, and she took his ward for it.
SUMMERS, GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Six months' hard labour.
BONCHORD, who also PLEADED GUILTY to conspiracy to defraud, and sixteen 'other indictments for forgery. Five years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT—Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, September 16th, 17th, and 18th, 1902.
Before MR. JUSTICE WALTON.
MR. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
647. ELIZABETH GLASS was again indicted for that she having the care and custody of Nelly Snapper and Reginald Brunet, did neglect them in a manner likely to cause them unnecessary suffering and injury to their health.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
EDITH BRUNET . I live at 4, St. John's Wood Road—on January 2nd I was confined of a child—he was named James William Reginald Brunet;—he was a big, fine baby at birth—he was first put to nurse, not with the prisoner—on March 27th, I took him to the prisoner at 46, Seaton Street, Chelsea—he was then quite well and in perfect condition—I saw the prisoner; I was to give her 6s. a week—I paid her up to July 1st—there was five weeks due on June 30th, but I did not pay her till July 1st—I saw the child as often as I could—I last saw him on July 1st—he seemed very well then—I nursed him a little while—I did not receive any communication from her after that until the police communicated with me—she never told me the child was ill, or that she wanted money—she told me on July 1st it had had a fit, but it was through its teeth, and that it was nothing—I went into her room, which was on the top floor in the front of the house—there was an iron bedstead there—she had only that one room—there was also, besides herself, a little boy and a little girl there, a woman lying on the bed, and Mr. Glass, he was nursing my baby in his arms—the baby girl was dressed and crawling about the floor—it was a miserable looking child—my baby only had its night clothes on, they were going to put it to bed—the prisoner told me that the woman on the bed was a friend of hers—she seemed to be asleep—I went there between six and seven—the babies slept on two little made-up beds by the side of the bedstead—the babies did not look dirty, they did not look as neat and clean as if they had been in charge of people in better circumstances—my mother was going to take charge of my baby in August—I did not like its surroundings—my baby's face was clean—I did not undress it, its nightgown was not dirty—I did not look at the little girl—I did not look at the beds—I was there about half an hour—my child looked very pale, I asked the prisoner if she took it out very often, and she said, "Yes, sometimes."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The child was not ill when I took it to you—it had not got bronchitis or a cough or a running from its ears—it had a little cough, and it breathed too quick, but it had nothing wrong with it—after you had had it a few weeks you told me it had a little running from the ears, and I gave you my doctor's card and told you to take the child to him—you never said it had bronchitis.
By the COURT. I saw it three or four times altogether whilst she had it—I saw the prisoner on each of those occasions—she was never drunk
when I saw her, but she had very funny ways—sometimes she smelt as if she had been drinking—I thought she had an impediment in her speech, she spoke so funnily—I paid up to July 1st and the child died on the 26th, so there is that money owing.
Re-examined. The prisoner never complained that she was not in a condition to look after the child.
AGNES SNAPPER . I am the wife of Henry Snapper, a hairdresser of 57, Brompton Road—I had a child on June 28th, 1901—it was called Nellie—she was put out to nurse and returned to me in March—I then sent her to St. George's Hospital for a fortnight—it had something the matter with it—it had been neglected when it was first out to nurse—it came back from the hospital much better—I then arranged through Mrs. Genman for it to go to the prisoner for 7s. a week—I didn't see the prisoner before she had my child—I saw it about three times while it was with her, when she brought it to me—in July I went to her house to see the child—I saw the prisoner and asked to see the child—she said she was not prepared for me, would I call back in half an hour as the room was untidy—I went up to the room—that is the last time I went there—it was after that that she brought it to me—it went there in May, and I heard from Mrs. Genman that it was getting on nicely—I had seen the prisoner when I first took the child there—when she asked me to call again in half an hour I said I could not, I was at work with my husband—when she brought the baby to me I did not think it was falling off—I thought it seemed better—she said it was cutting its teeth—it had always been a delicate child—I last saw it at the latter end of June or beginning of July at the prisoner's house, that was a week before it was taken away by the officers—I paid her weekly, sometimes she sent for the money and sometimes she came for it—she never made a complaint that she was not in a position to look after the child—she never made an application for money to take it to a doctor's—she never said it was suffering at all, except cutting its teeth—I did not undress it to see its condition—it only weighed 7 lbs. when born.
Cross-examined. The baby was taken to you for a few days at the beginning of May, and then taken away, as I was going to get another woman who I knew to look after it—it was thin and delicate, but you did not say that you were afraid to take it—there is one week's money owing, but the Inspector told us not to pay any more.
By the COURT. She did not seem to have been drinking when I saw her, she seemed funny, but I thought it was her way.
FREDERICK CHIBNALL (101 B.) I am the Coroner's officer for Chelsea—on July 25th I went to 46, Seaton Street to the top floor room which was occupied by the prisoner—I saw her there—two children were lying on two "Tate "sugar boxes, and a woman lying on the bed in an advanced state of delirium tremens—her name was Marney, and she was removed next day to Chelsea Infirmary—the prisoner was not drunk, but she had been drinking and smelled of spirits—I asked her if the children were hers—she said, "No, I have had the child Snapper about four months, and the child Brunet, about ten days"—then she said she had had him about
a month—I asked her if she had notified the County Council that she had the children under her care—she said, "No"—I asked her what she received for them—she said 7s. for Snapper and 6s. for Brunet—I examined Snapper, she was very emaciated and covered with vermin bites, her buttocks were very red and seemed inflamed—Brunet's body was also covered over with vermin bites, he was emaciated, his buttocks were very sore and inflamed, and I noticed that he had bronchitis—I said to the prisoner, "Do you know these two children are very ill indeed?"—she said, "Yes, I know they are"—I said, "Why has not a medical man been called in?"—she said, "Brunet had a fit in the night, but I did not like to call a doctor up at that hour"—it had a second fit at 10.30 on the Friday morning, and she sent for the doctor—on top of the boxes was what looked like rotten manure, it was really cut chaff wet through—there was no mattress over it—it was very dirty—the only thing that was over the chaff was what looked like a piece of quilting—there was a dirty white shawl over the children—in the centre of the room there was a large oval bath three-quarters full of dirty napkins and water—the stench from it was shocking—there were also dirty napkins screwed up and thrown into the corners of the room—they looked as if they had been taken off the children—in the cupboard I found seven quartern whisky bottles and two pint whisky bottles all empty, two packets of Quaker Oats partly used, and half a tin of condensed milk of the cheapest kind—on the boxes there were two feeding bottles which were sour and dirty—the smell in the room was shocking—Brunet was about 15 inches from the woman on the bed, so also got the bad air from her—I telegraphed for Inspector Ross—he came, and soon afterwards Dr. Kempster—both the children were removed that day to the Chelsea Infirmary—I had the house watched during the night, and next day got a warrant and arrested the prisoner for cruelty and neglecting the children—she was charged at the King's Road Police Station and made no reply—she was then under the influence of drink—I do not think she was suffering from bad health or was incapable of attending to the children—she made no complaint to me to that effect.
Cross-examined. The whisky bottles had the World's End public-house on them—they had not contained paraffin.
FELIX CHARLES KEMPSTER . I am surgeon for the E Division of police—on July 25th I was called by Inspector Ross to 26, Seaton Street—I saw these children in the prisoner's room—Brunet had bronchial pneumonia, and was very ill indeed, he weighed 13 1/2 lbs., which was normal for his age, he was crying and in pain, and was coughing very much—the prisoner said, "The child had two fits last night, but I did not send for a doctor as I did not wish to disturb him, but the boy had another fit this morning, and then I sent for a doctor"—he had rickets, due to improper feeding; the hair on his head was rubbed off through his rubbing his head backwards and forwards, and owing to the pain produced by the rickets and pneumonia; his hands were clenched and his legs were drawn up to its stomach; when I touched it it screamed with pain; its feet were swollen and blue. I think its condition was
due to improper feeding. Its buttocks were red and raw, which would be due to the napkins not having been changed; its body was vermin-bitten, and it seemed that it had been roughly cleaned, but behind the ears there were mats of dirt—I examined Snapper—her weight was 11 1/2 lbs. instead of over 20 lbs., her face was pinched, her shoulder blades shrunken, her eyelids sunken, and she had rickets; her stomach was very swollen and had large veins showing over its surface; her hair was rubbed off the back of her head for the same reason as the other child; her buttocks were also red and raw, but not so bad as the other child; her feet were blue, swollen and cold, and her body was emaciated and vermin-bitten—it was obvious that they both needed medical attendance—they were lying on some chaff which had been so saturated with urine that it resembled manure—there were several zinc baths full of dirty napkins and dirty water which smelt very foul as well as the whole room—the children's condition would cause them unnecessary suffering and injury to their health—I have seen many rooms, but this was one of the worst I have ever seen—I had over forty vermin on me when I got out of it, and my clothes had to be baked—I saw some feeding bottles there, they had sour milk and, I think, Ridge's food in them; if the children had taken it it would have given them stomach-ache and diarrhoea—the prisoner was drunk and had been drinking heavily—I had the children removed—I said to the prisoner, "What have you fed these children on"—she said, "I fed Brunet on Ridge's food and milk since I have had him, I have had him four months "'—Brunet was the worst of the two, he was sent to the Infirmary, where he died—the condition of the children was due to want of soap and water, and ordinary care and attention—that would have remedied everything I saw in that room, and might have been done by the poorest woman.
Cross-examined. I examined you and found all the signs of drunkenness about you—you made No complaint that you had bronchitis, and you did not cough while I was there, I was there nearly an hour—I saw the other woman on the bed, she was bordering on the verge of delirium tremens.
FREDERICK WILLIAM DIX . I am Assistant Medical officer at the Chelsea Infirmary—the two children were brought in on July 25th—I agree with Dr. Kempster as to their condition, except that I thought Brunet was listless and quiet—he died at 3 o'clock next day—I made a post mortem examination on July 28th—he was suffering from pneumonia—there was no evidence that he was badly or improperly fed—he was fairly well nourished, except being ricketty—that is usually due to improper feeding or insufficient fresh air and cleanliness—I did not see anything about the children which made me think they could not take a proper quantity of milk.
AGNES TURNER . I am landlady at 46, Seaton Street—I keep a small milk shop on the ground floor—I supplied the prisoner with milk up to June 24th—she had one pint a day—after the 24th she had twopennyworth at separate times—I was always in the shop—she did not get any milk anywhere else—I saw her passing the window during the daytime—I
cannot say if she was well enough to look after the children as I seldom spoke to her—she did not complain to me that she could not look after the children.
Cross-examined. You bought condensed milk from me also, but not before June 24th.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I had three or four condensed milk tins a week. I mixed it with arrowroot or fine oatmeal, making it of creamy thickness, and put it into the bottle. My means are very small I gave them all I could buy."
The prisoner, in her defence, said that she did her duty by the children as long as she had strength to do so; that she gave them a bath every morning; that Brunet was taken bad while in his bath on July 25th; that she took him out, put him to bed, and went for a doctor; that a woman asked her to take her in, and that when she was there she could not get her to go away; that she (the prisoner) had had bronchitis for some time, and could not afford a doctor.
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
MR. MUIR and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted; MR. FRAMPTON Defended.
The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict, and the trial was postponed till next Session.
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.
MARY O'CONNELL . I live at a little cottage in the yard of 4, Little North Street, Lisson Grove—I have two rooms there—I lived there with my daughters, Maud who is about 27 years old, and Kathleen and Lizzie who are 15 and 14—we all slept in the larger room with the fireplace—the deceased, who has lodged with us for about three years, slept in the smaller room—the prisoner, who is my son, has lived with me about the same time, except when he was in South Africa—before he went to South Africa he was a carman, and before that he was in the Police force—he left the force, I think, about four years ago—my husband died four years ago in July—I only knew the deceased when my husband was alive, by seeing him about—he lodged in a house opposite—he was working on the Great Central Railway—the prisoner went out to South Africa on March 25th and returned on August 24th—on the day of his return I told him that the deceased had called Kathleen and Lizzie foul names—he did not make any reply then—on the Friday morning he said he did not like to sleep in the same room as the deceased, and I said I would have him removed when my son got employment—I did not hear any dispute between the prisoner and the deceased—on August 30th the deceased came in about 9.30 or 9.45 p.m.—he was quite white and frightened—
one of his pockets was turned out—he went to bed about 45 minutes afterwards—the prisoner came in about 11.30 or 11.45—he had had some drink, but he was not intoxicated—he had his supper in my room—he asked if the deceased was in—I said, "He is in," and he went into the inner room as was usual for him to do—he only just went in, and out again at once—he said, "That is all right"—he went in to see if the deceased was in—my daughters and I went to bed while the prisoner sat in the chair, but we did not undress then—that was about 12.30—the prisoner went to sleep and I did the same—there was a lighted hanging lamp when I went to sleep, over my bed on a shelf—it is not usual to take it into the other room—the prisoner asked for a candle, and I had not got one—there was a kettle on the oven in my room—this is the kettle (Produced)—the next thing I remembered was when Kathleen woke me up and told me there was a noise in the other room—it must have been about 1.45 a.m. then—Kathleen got out of bed and went into the other room—I had not been woke up then—when I woke up the lamp was in the other room—I got up and went into my son's room—I saw the deceased laying on the bed, his head on the pillow covered with blood—the bedclothes were all disarranged and thrown about the floor—he had only an under-vest and a white shirt on—he did not appear to be conscious—the prisoner was coming out of the room as I went in—he had a kettle in his hand—my little girl took the lamp off the mantelpiece and handed it to me—I asked my son what he had done it for—he made no reply—he had all his clothes on—when I had gone to sleep he had had his coat and vest off—as far as I can remember he was dressed in the same way when I saw him in his room as he was when he went to sleep—I raised the deceased's head on my right arm and called his name three times—he did not answer—he only gave a gurgling noise in his throat—I told Kathleen to go and fetch a police-man—my son said that he had done it, and that she need not trouble, as he would go and get one himself—I have examined the kettle—the handle is now bent a little on one side—it was not so on the night of the 30th, but it was always bent forwards as it is now—it is an iron kettle—my son returned in less than five minutes with a policeman—it is not a fact that I had immoral relations with the deceased: he attempted once, but I resisted.
Cross-examined. The fire had been out since three or four o'clock—I do not know if the kettle was full of water when I went to bed—when my husband died we lived at 37, North Street—the deceased did not continually come to visit me—he did not come till he lodged with me—he came to lodge with us at 37, North Street—that was about three months' after my husband's death—the deceased insulted me when I lived at 395, Edgware Road—that was about three years ago—he was lodging with me then—my son objected several times to the deceased lodging with me—my eldest daughter had a child by the deceased, but I did not know it until after the deceased's death—the child was still-born, about nine months ago—if I had known that the child was the deceased's I would not have had him in the house—he and the prisoner fought twice—the deceased was a strong man—I do not think he was quite as strong as the prisoner—they
fought because the prisoner objected to the deceased lodging in the house with his sisters—I once lived at 38, Salisbury Street—there was a fight between them there—that was about two and a half years ago—neither of them got much the best of it—the deceased knocked the prisoner down against the railings—the deceased hurt the prisoner in the second fight—the deceased very frequently got drunk, and always on Saturday night—he had rows with other people, but I have not seen them—he was a very quarrelsome, treacherous man—I have heard that he has taken out his knife to people—I know he used to carry a knife—on one occasion I took it away from him after what my little girl told me—the prisoner was always very fond of his two little sisters—he was always very kind to them when he came to live with me—he went to South Africa without my knowledge—he had been living with me up to the morning he left—it was about that time that he complained of the deceased being in the house—the deceased advised him to go away—he said he would go with him, and when he got my son to sign the papers he would not go—I did not know that my son was coming back—I met him by accident in Church Street, Lisson Grove—I asked him to come and live with me—he did not say anything about the deceased then, but next day I told the prisoner that the deceased had been calling the little girls very bad names whilst he had been away—he was worse while the prisoner was away—he would not dare to do it while my son was at home—he had hit Kathleen and me—I could not find a policeman or I should have locked him up—I did not tell my son anything about that—one Saturday while I was at work the deceased put Lizzie outside and hit her with the carpet which was on the floor—on August 30th I was very tired, and I asked my son to go to bed as me and Kathleen had to get up at 7 a.m. on Sunday to go to work—he did not seem inclined to go—it was the usual thing for him to sit in the chair after he had had a drop to drink—I noticed him take the lamp from the shelf before he went to sleep—I did not see him move the kettle.
By the JURY. I told my son I was going to get rid of the deceased, but he always paid his money, and it came in for the rent—Lizzie stopped at home while I went to work, Kathleen went to work, and slept at home.
KATHLEEN O'CONNELL . I am a daughter of the last witness, and the prisoner's sister—I was at home on August 30th, when my brother came home—at that time the deceased was asleep in bed—when I went to sleep my brother was sitting in the arm-chair in our room—I went to sleep about 12.30—when last I saw my brother he was sitting in the chair singing, he was not sober then—I was woke up by a banging in the next room—I went in, and found my brother hitting the deceased the last blow with the kettle, on the head—he had a lamp in one hand and the kettle in the other—the deceased was lying still on the bed, the bed-clothes were on the floor—I asked my brother what he had done it for—he said he done it for his sisters' sake, because he would know we would, be safe now—he also said, "I am not going to have you girls called foul names"—my mother came in and raised the deceased's head up—she did not say anything to my brother—she told me to get a policeman—my brother said I need not trouble to fetch a policeman, he would fetch one himself—after the policeman came I went
for a doctor—I did not go into the room again after the policeman arrived—when I saw my brother striking the deceased he seemed very calm, but he was grinding his teeth, he did not show any sign of anger.
Cross-examined. I heard my mother tell the prisoner to go to bed—I did not see him take the kettle away—the water in the kettle was cold—my sister had put the water into the kettle—the noise I heard in the other room was a light banging—it was not against the partition—I do not know what it sounded like—when I ran into the room the door was open—my brother was standing about half way between the deceased's head and feet—I only saw him strike one blow—the deceased had his head towards the wall and his feet towards the door—the spout of the kettle was towards him—the blow which I saw was not a hard one.
Re-examined. The sound made by the blow that I saw struck, was like the sound I heard before I went into the room—the deceased's head was still on the pillow—the bottom of the kettle struck him.
THOMAS BARLOW (158 D.) I was passing No. 4, Little North Street about 2 a.m. on August 31st—I heard someone say, "Oh, poor fellow!" at the same time the prisoner stepped out from the door of No. 4 into the footway—seeing me he said, "I have killed a man in here, governor"—he turned round, I followed him through the passage leading to a one-storied cottage at the rear of No. 4—we entered the room, where I found Mary O'Connell, who said she was the prisoner's mother, Kathleen O'Connell, and a younger sister—the mother said, "Oh, policeman, my son has killed a man in the other room"—the prisoner could hear that—I went into the small back room with the prisoner—I found the deceased lying on the single bed at the back of the door—he was only wearing a white under vest, a grimy coloured and a dirty rug was lying on the floor, a blanket lying across the foot of the bed, but tucked underneath the mattress—the deceased was lying flat on his back with his head on the pillow, and turned slightly to the right—some lumber had fallen out of a corner down by the side of the bed—there was nothing to indicate a struggle—the deceased was labouring for breath—he was unconscious, and he had wounds on his face, from which blood was flowing—he was also bleeding from his nose and mouth, and he had a black graze on the inner side of his right fore arm cross-ways—I did not see black anywhere else—the prisoner said, "Why, he is breathing; if I had known he was alive I would have cut his heart out before I came out to you"—whilst he was speaking he picked up the iron kettle from the floor at the foot of the bed and said, "This is what I did it with; I do not want to get out of it; he always annoys me when I come home; he was the cause of me getting dismissed from the police force, and he was the cause of my father's death"—he gave me the kettle—I sent for Dr. Bird, who came about twenty minutes afterwards—I remained with the prisoner—he did not say any more—he was looking for his pipe and tobacco in the other room—the deceased was taken to the hospital, I took the prisoner to the station—on the way he said, "I struck him once, but it had no effect, he must have been as hard as iron, but I struck him again, and that fetched blood, and I struck him again, and that stopped his breathing; but I wish I had not lost my revolver I brought home from the front,
then I could have blown his head clean off; anyway, I hope I have finished him"—he was detained at the station—I returned with' Inspector Marsden to Little North Street, and then I went to the hospital, where I saw the deceased—the prisoner seemed very cool, he was not excited in the least—he said he had been drinking, and he smelt as if he had been drinking beer—the second bed in the small room had not been slept in—the prisoner's hands were smeared with soot—I did not see any blood upon him—the kettle weighs 6 3/4 lbs—after the deceased died, the same morning I charged the prisoner with murder, he was first charged with attempting to murder—he was charged with murder about 4.30 p.m. on the Sunday—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. The smudge on the deceased's arm was about four inches across—his arm was lying by his side as he lay on his back on the bed—it looked as if it had been caused by the kettle—the room is very small there was no furniture in it except the two beds, and there was very little vacant floor space—there was just room for two people to stand together between the deceased's bed and the window—there was about eighteen inches separating the two beds—I did not use the lamp at all, I had my lantern—I could have seen just as well with the lamp if I had not used my lantern—I think it was burning properly—when I first went up to the bed the prisoner's mother was holding the lamp inside the door—there was no light coming in from the window—when the prisoner said "Poor fellow!" in the street I thought it was some of the Irish people that there are about there going home after a Saturday night party—I made a note of what the prisoner said about two hours and a half after—I never asked him anything—he did not say, "He is bleeding"; he said, "He is breathing"—I have known him about three years, but not to know anything about him—I have not searched for a revolver, or made any enquiries—I do not know that he brought no revolver home with him—the deceased was broadly built about the shoulders, but he was thin in the lower part.
Cross-examined. I found some blood on the pillow, and the top portion of the bed had been wetted—I have been unable to find that the prisoner was in possession of a revolver when he came home—he was well known in the neighbourhood—I do not know if he was discharged in uniform.
By the COURT. He had not been at work since his discharge.
MAUD O'CONNELL . I am twenty-seven years old—the prisoner is my brother—I lived at home with my mother and younger sisters and brother—I think my father died about a year ago—I have known the deceased three or four years—I knew him before he became our lodger—when he came to us my father was living—I believe my mother was a little bit fond of the deceased—I have seen what took place between them, they were always quarrelling and carrying on—I saw them having connection when we were at 399, Edgware Road—my sister, Mrs. Cutts, was there too, and saw it also—that was after my father died—my brother was away then—I had seen intimacy between my mother and the deceased before that, while my brother was at home—I had a stillborn child about nine months ago—
the deceased was the father—he used most filthy language to my mother and sisters—he did not use it when my brother was present—on August 30th I was at home—I went to bed in the front room about 12 p.m.—the deceased went to bed about 10—he could only get out of his room by coming through ours—my brother came in about 12.30, we were just going to bed then—my brother was sitting in the chair—when I went to sleep the lamp was on the shelf—the next I remembered was when I saw Kathleen go into the bedroom, she woke me by getting out of bed—I heard a banging, and my brother came out of the room; he said, "Never mind, Maud, I done it for my sisters' sake, I know they will be safe now"—he had the lamp in his hand—my mother said, "Shall I go and fetch a policeman?"—he said, "No, I shall go and fetch one myself"—he went out and came back with a policeman—I did not see the deceased.
Cross-examined. I went into the deceased's room while the doctor was there—the lamp was there then, I could see quite clearly—for the last three or four years my brother has sometimes lived at home and sometimes not—he has always objected to the deceased and his goings on—the deceased did not behave any differently when my brother was at home—we never had a happy life with him, he was a most vile man—he and my brother were always quarrelling—he knocked my brother about—he has often taken a knife to my brother and has tried to murder other people—he has quarrelled with my mother—my brother told her to go away and he would look after his sisters—when the deceased came in on August 30th he seemed rather frightened and white—he rushed in and said somebody had robbed him—he looked cross—he said, "Where is Joseph O'Connell?"—my mother said, "He is out"—he said, "Can I see him, somebody is on to me?"—my mother said she did not want any quarrelling—he said, "Can I go out?"—my mother stopped him from going out, and told him to go to bed—it was usually on Saturdays that he got drunk and was violent, and had quarrels with people—he tried to take up some china to fire out into the street—he used to use nasty talk—I do not think there had been any row between the deceased and my brother during the week—I think my father died on July 4th, 1898.
By the COURT. My child was born whilst my brother was away—he had been told about it before he went away.
GEORGE WYNN BIRD . I am a registered medical practitioner of 1, Edgware Road—I was called to Little North Street on August 30th—I saw the deceased on a bed—he was insensible and breathing stertoriously, his face was covered with blood, and had black marks upon it—I ordered his removal to the hospital—I was present when Dr. Coombes made a post-mortem examination of the body.
Cross-examined. I had the light of a small lamp—it gave sufficient light for me to see clearly, but not sufficient to make a critical examination—I think I could have seen sufficiently even if I had not been told what had been going on—I washed the man's face and noticed that there was no severe bleeding—I did not see any mark on his arm—the prisoner was in the front room in custody—I did not speak to him.
3.10 a.m. on August 31st I attended the deceased, who was brought to the hospital—he was unconscious, breathing very heavily, and bleeding from six wounds on his face; he was also bleeding from a tear on the inside of his mouth—there was a fracture through the hard palate—there was a great deal of bruising on the left side of his scalp—his left eyeball was penetrated, there was a fracture of his left upper jaw, and it was broken into several places—he never recovered consciousness—he died at 10.20 that morning of coma, the result of hemorrhage following the fracture of the skull—I made a post-mortem examination with Dr. Bird on September 7th, when I discovered the fracture—it was at the base of the skull on the left side, and would be caused by the result of blows in front—it could not very well be caused by direct blows—the wounds could have been caused by blows inflicted by a blunt instrument—this kettle would possibly inflict them—there were three wounds above the left eye quite close together but no fracture there—there was a fracture of the left cheek bone, which is very strong—I think the three blows above the left eye could have been caused by one blow—the fracture which caused death was the one at the base of the skull on the left side, above and behind the ear—considerable violence would have to be used to cause the wounds—I noticed that when the deceased was brought in, his hands were begrimed, but there were no marks of violence there or on any other part of his body.
Cross-examined. The black on his hands might have come from the kettle—I did not see a mark on his arm, all the external marks of violence were on the left side of his face—I thought that the wound on the eyelid might have been caused by the spout of the kettle—if a man hit straight out with the kettle that would not cause all the injuries, and one would expect to find the wounds more ragged—I think the spout caused the perforation of the eyeball—the other wounds must have been caused by the body of the kettle—I do not think it is possible to say how many distinct blows were given; I think the wounds might have been caused by three blows—the deceased was powerful but not very muscular, he was rather inclined to be stout.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that when he went into the back room with the lamp the deceased asked him what he was bringing "that d—light "in for; that he (the prisoner) had taken the kettle in with him to drink from, as he was thirsty, and was holding it in his right hand and the lamp in his left; that he told the deceased to go to sleep and said, "I will see if I cannot get you to shift your lodgings out of this next week"; that the deceased said, "That you can never do, I am a better man than what you are"; that the deceased then jumped up in bed and caught hold of the side of the prisoner's neck, standing behind him; that he (the prisoner) struck the deceased from three to five times with the kettle, over his shoulder; that he fell back on the bed, and he saw he was smothered with blood; that when his sister came in he went for a policeman; that his object in striking the deceased was to make him let go; that he did not remember what he said after that; that he never had a revolver at the Front, and had given up all his arms and uniform before he left South Africa; that the deceased might have received one or two blows after he let go, as he had let go at the first blow; and that the water came out of the kettle, but that he did not know where it went to.
GEORGE WYNN BIRD (Re-examined). I did not notice any water on the floor or any soot on the deceased's arms—I saw some on his face—I can hardly say whether he was struck once or twice and knocked down, or if all the blows were struck while he was lying down—if he had been struck first on the forehead I think he would probably have fallen down, but the other blows he might have received standing up—I think I should have seen some blood on his singlet if he had been standing up—I think the injuries could have been inflicted by the kettle being swung over the prisoner's shoulder.
Cross-examined. All the blood marks were on the left side of his face.
GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted and MR. METHVEN Defended.
AGNES DAVY . I live at 1, Flower and Dean Street Buildings, and am a flower-seller—I have been keeping company with the prisoner, but he was away for two months out of the three that I knew him—two or three weeks before August 17th I told him I did not want no more to do with him—he said on several occasions, "If you don't want no more to do with me, what will become of me; I will do away with you and myself too"—on August 16th he got hold of me by my right arm in Leman Street and asked me if I would have a drink—I refused it—on August 17th, about 8.30 p.m., I was with another young woman and two young men walking up towards Leman Street—one of my gentlemen friends looked round and saw the prisoner following us—we all walked on—the prisoner said, "Come here, Aggie, I want to speak to you"—I turned round and walked towards him—I did not see anything in his hand then—we were standing face to face, and two or three yards apart, when I saw a flash in his right hand, which he held in front of him towards my face—I heard a report like a pistol, and I ran away—I heard more than one other shot as I ran—after the third shot I looked round and saw a revolver in the prisoner's hand—he was still firing and running after me—I did not see in which direction it was pointed—I did not hear any more shots after the third—I was not hit.
Cross-examined. I passed the prisoner first in Wells Street—I did not know he was walking behind us—I did not think anything was the matter when he called out—I had walked about two steps towards him when he fired—I was net frightened because it did not hurt me—I was frightened
when I saw the flash—the prisoner was standing on the edge of the pavement on the left side of the road—there were plenty of people about—I was not engaged to the prisoner—I corresponded with him, but I did not intend to marry him—he asked me if I would marry him, and I said no—that was in the Black Horse on a Sunday night about three months before he shot at me—when I first met him I saw him every night for a week and walked with him—he went to sea for two months—he sent me a letter whilst he was away—I have not got it—I saw him when he came home from sea—the shooting occurred about three weeks after that—I kept company with him during the second week after he came home—nothing was said about being married then—he asked me a second time the first day he came home, and I refused—I wrote four or five letters to him while he was at sea—I did not say in one of the letters that I was sorry my writing was so bad, but I had been drinking, because I cannot read or write, and I got someone else to write for me.
Re-examined. I would not have any more to do with the prisoner because every time I saw him he kept pulling me about and using bad language—I told him that I did not want any more to do with him on a Sunday, and he shot at me on the following Sunday.
HENRY PARKS . I am a carman of 34, Tenter Street, and about 8.30 on August 17th I was with the last witness and two more friends—I saw the prisoner at the corner of Wells Street standing on the pavement—we were walking towards him, but we happened to turn back before we got to him—I noticed his hands were in his pockets—he did not say anything—when we turned back he followed us, and said to the prosecutrix, "Come here, Aggie, I want to speak to you"—she turned towards him, and before she could speak the prisoner fired a revolver at her—he was two or three yards from her when he fired—she turned and ran away—the prisoner followed her and fired five shots at her—I tried to close with him—I passed him to claim the girl because she was going to faint—a man out of a shop stopped the prisoner—at the station the prisoner said, "I am only sorry for one thing, and that is that the vile creature is yet before me alive"—he showed me a black mark on his shirt, just below his heart, and said, "There were two for you, two for her, and two for myself. Do you see this? That is where I meant to do away with myself"—he had a coat and waistcoat on—his waistcoat was unbuttoned at the time.
Cross-examined. I was trying to get hold of the prisoner while he was running—when I was within a yard of him he pointed the revolver at me—there was a crowd, but the prisoner scattered them—he was quite sober—I was also sober—I did not see anybody who was hit till they were brought to the station—the prisoner was standing outside the Leman Street Dispensary between the pillar-box and the lamp-post.
FLORRIE BERNSTEIN . I live at 45, Seaford Street—on August 17th, about 8.30 p.m., I was in Leman Street—I was just past the Black Horse, Leman Street when I heard something like fireworks—I did not know it was a pistol—I heard about three reports—I was near Dr. Jones'—at the third shot I felt something strike me on my hip—I was examined by Dr. Jones.
Cross-examined. The sound came from Wells Street—I was on the right side of the road going to Cable Street.
THOMAS JONES . I am divisional-surgeon of police, and live at 68, Leman Street—about 8.45 on August 17th I examined Agnes Davy—she had nothing wrong with her except that she was frightened—I examined Florrie Bernstein—she had a contused circular wound on the lower part of the abdomen on the right side—the skin was not penetrated, but there was a lot of hemorrhage under it—this revolver and cartridge (Produced) could have caused it—a little girl named Rose Ackerman, who is not here, was hit in the stomach—her skin was not penetrated.
Cross-examined. It was a spent shot which struck Bernstein—she must have been facing the direction in which it came.
HARRY HARDING . (51 H.R.) About 8.30 p.m. on August 17th I was on duty in Leman Street—I heard some shots—I went in the direction of the sound—I saw a flash at the corner of Ailie Street and Leman Street, opposite the Black Horse—I heard five reports altogether, and saw three flashes—I saw that the prisoner had been arrested by Police-Constable Drew—the prisoner had no revolver—I got the crowd back and found this revolver (Produced) in the roadway—I took it to the station, where I saw the inspector unload it—it contained five discharged cartridges and one loaded—all the flashes seemed to come from the same place, and not as if the prisoner was running—they were all in quick succession.
Cross-examined. The street is wide and busy with a lot of people about—there was not much traffic on Sunday night—there was an excited crowd round the prisoner—I did not notice the prisoner at the time.
ROBERT DREW (324 H.) About 8.30 p.m. on August 17th I was in Leman Street—I heard five reports of a firearm coming from the direction of Leman Street—I went in their direction—they came from the direction of the Black Horse—I saw the prisoner with a revolver in his right hand, I seized him, he dropped the revolver—he said, "The last cartridge would not go off"—I took him to Leman Street Police Station, where I saw Parks and Davy—the prisoner said to them when the cartridges were extracted. "There were two each for you, and two for myself"—when charged, he said, "I am only sorry for one thing, and that is, the vile creature is yet before me alive; I quite understand the charge."
Cross-examined. The prosecutrix and Park did not seem excited—there was a very great state of excitement when I first came up.
DR. JONES (Re-examined.) I examined the prisoner—there was a mark on his clothes, which were penetrated in an oblique direction through the shirt and waistcoat twice and out of the coat, across his stomach.
FLORRIE BERNSTEIN (Re-examined.) I was going towards Cable Street, and on the same side of the road as the Black Horse, but I had not got to it—I had not passed Ailie Street—the reports seemed to be in front of me.
GUILTY on the Second Count. Eighteen months' hard labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday, September 16th and 17th, 1902.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. COHEN Prosecuted; and the evidence was interpreted.
LOTTIE RADMORE . I am the wife of James Radmore, a confectioner, of 64, Well Street, Marylebone—on July 11th, about 3.30 p.m., the two prisoners and another man came into the shop—the other man spoke English and did the talking—he asked if I had any old coins to sell, and I showed them about £2 worth of silver—Zigler picked out a half-crown, a florin, and a shilling, for which she paid 2s. 9d, 2s. 3d, and 1s. 3d.—they then walked into the shop parlour, without permission—I had £30 in gold on the table—Zigler started counting it over and picked out a half-sovereign, for which she gave me 11s.—they went away saying they would call next day—after they had gone I found I only had £22, and I immediately gave information to the police—Morrant stayed in the shop the whole time engaging my assistant's attention by buying some sweets—the gold on the table was visible from the shop.
ALBERT REDMOND . I am a porter—I sometimes assist Mr. Radmore in his business—I was in the shop on July 11th when the two prisoners and another man came in and asked for some ices—they then said they wanted some old coins to take back to their country as souvenirs of England—they were shown some silver coins, and bought a florin and a half-crown—they then asked for some gold, and Mrs. Radmore, the woman, and the Englishman went into the shop parlour to look at some—Morrant stayed in the shop and occupied my attention in buying some sweets—when they left they shook hands and said they would call again next day.
JOHN CURRY (Detective Sergeant C.) On August 16th I saw the two prisoners together in Old Compton Street—I stopped them and said I was a police officer and should arrest them for stealing money from 64, Well Street, Oxford Street—Morrant replied in French, "I have stolen nothing"—the woman said nothing.
Morrant, in his defence on oath, said that he had stolen nothing, and was perfectly innocent of the charge; that Zigler was his wife; and that he was not aware she had stolen anything.
Evidence for the Defence.
AUGUSTINE ZIGLER (The Prisoner.) I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—Morrant is my husband—I stole the money without him knowing it.
MR. COHEN Prosecuted.
LOT VICKERS . I am a baker, of 125, King's Cross Road—on July 15th, between 11 and 12 a.m., the two prisoners and another man came into the shop and made a small purchase, for which they paid—they then asked if
I had any Coronation or new coins—the third party acted as interpreter, and did all the talking—I showed them a lot of coins, and they selected some, for which they paid in a lump sum, not separately—at the end they offered me Is. 6d.—I said I did not want it, but was very pleased to be of service to them—the interpreter pressed me to take it, saying that they were well to do, and that it was a hobby of the lady's—when they went they shook hands and wished me the usual compliments, and said that they would call again—afterwards I found I was £1 15s. 6d. short, and immediately gave information to the police—I cannot say what coins I missed beyond one half-sovereign.
Cross-examined by Morrant. All three of you handled the coins and inspected them.
The prisoners repeated their former defence.
GUILTY . Twelve months' hard labour each.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted; and MR. ROOTH Defended.
GUILTY on the Second Count. Five previous convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard labour.
MR. PICKERSGILL Prosecuted, and MR. H. COHEN Defended.
ALICE SHUCK . I am a barmaid at the Surrey Hounds public-house. St. John's Hill—on July 9th, about 9.45 a.m., I saw the prisoner in the saloon bar—he was there about an hour, and I served him twice—the same afternoon we missed the hospital box containing about 3s.—it was kept on a shelf beside the bar.
Cross-examined. I had suspicion of the prisoner, because he hung about the bar—he pretended to read the paper, but was watching me all the time—we had a good many customers in between 9.45 a.m. and the time we missed the box—the box is out of reach from behind the bar—Mr. Stevens said there was about 3s. in it, but he only guessed by its weight—this box (Produced) looks very much like the one that was in the bar.
HARRIET ELIZABETH LONG . I live at 50a, Cologne Goad, Battersea—on July 9th, about 11 a.m., I noticed the prisoner walking up and down in front of my house—he had a newspaper parcel under his arm—he then came underneath my window, and broke a box open with a piece of concrete—he put the money into his pocket, but left the box—I went outside and picked it up—when I found it was a hospital box, I followed the prisoner until I met my father—my father then gave chase, but he got away.
Cross-examined. I am positive the prisoner is the man I saw break the box open—I have seen him in the neighbourhood before—he was walking up and down in front of my house for about ten minutes—I was on the steps when he broke the box open—he then had his back to me—when
he heard me he turned round, and I saw his face—I picked up the box and kept it for the officers—I remember July 9th, because the police came the same day—I next saw the prisoner at the South-Western Police Court on the 16th, and identified him.
THOMAS WHITE . I live at Notting Hill, and am the father of the last witness—on July 9th I was staying with her at Battersea—when I went into lunch she called my attention to a man hanging about—I recognise the prisoner as the man—I went for the lunch beer, and lost sight of him—the next I saw of him was when I chased him.
Cross-examined. I first saw him when I came in to lunch—I chased him in consequence of what my daughter told me, but failed to catch him—on the 16th I saw him again in Russell Street, Kensington, when I gave him into custody.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was not in the Surrey Hounds on July 9th, and did not know the house, but that he was indoors suffering from a bad attack of neuralgia.
Evidence for the defence.
MARTIN SLAGG . I am a master bricklayer of 2, Marcus Street, Wandsworth—about the middle of June prisoner came to stay at my house for about a month—July 8th and 9th he complained of being unwell, and kept to his room.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is a slight relation of mine—he had a bad attack of neuralgia.
MRS. SLAGG. I am the wife of the last witness—I remember the prisoner staying at our house for a month—he came about the middle of June—the second week in July he complained of neuralgic pains in the head, and stayed in bed on July 8th, 9th, and 10th.
Cross-examined. I did not give evidence at the police-court—I remember the prisoner's illness, because the 10th was my wash day, and I had to attend to him.
Cross-examined. I go to business, and should not know what took place at home during the day.
MRS. LEWIS. I am a sister of the prisoner, and live at 36, Ennis Road, Stroud Green—I remember him staying with the Slaggs—he stayed about a month—on July 9th I received a letter saying that he was unwell, and I went to see him—I was with him from 10.30 a.m. to 5.30 p.m.—he was in bed the whole day.
Cross-examined. I have not got the letter of July 9th—I remember going over to Wandsworth on the 9th, because I was going to work at Highgate, and I had to put the lady off.
Re-examined. My brother Robert went to see the prisoner with me.
he complained of neuralgia and a sore throat—he was in bed the whole day.
Cross-examined. We got to Wandsworth between ten and eleven, and stayed till five.
MRS. PARK. I am the prisoner's mother—on July 9th my daughter told me she had received a letter from Cousin Fanny, stating that prisoner was unwell, and I told her to go with Robert and see him—I could not go myself because I had to attend to the business.
Cross-examined. My husband makes pianoforte strings—he employs twenty-four men—the prisoner has been in his employment about twelve months—he earned two guineas a week.
GUILTY . He then
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, September 17th and 18th, 1902.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. ROOTH Defended.
FREDERICK HUMPHREYS (4 J.R.) produced and proved a plan of the neighbourhood of London Fields.
FREDERICK GEORGE NOTT-BOWER . I am Chief clerk of the North London Police Court—I was present on July 7th when a charge was heard by Mr. Fordham against a man named Wheelerbread for loitering with intent to commit a felony in Pownall Road, Shoreditch, and further with assaulting William Rolls 234 J. in the execution of his duty by striking him on the middle finger of his right hand with a knife at the Broadway, London Fields, Hackney—the prisoner was sworn as a witness, and I took down what he then said upon oath in the hearing of Wheelerbread—this is it (Read: "William Rolls 234 J. At 2.30 Sunday morning the prisoner was with a woman in Pownall Road—the prisoner went into three different gateways—the woman stood outside—she went away—he went into the Broadway—I stopped him—I asked him what he was doing in those gateways—he said, "That is best known to myself '—I said I should take him into custody if he could not give a better account—he said,' Then take that, you b—,' and cut me on the finger with this knife—he threw the knife down—I picked it up—he said, 'It is put on me; I know nothing about it; I was never in Pownall Road.
Cross-examined: I found another knife on him and a hammer—I arrested him five hundred yards away—he walked very fast—I did not arrest him on a seat at London Fields—he said he had no home—he did not say he was waiting for the baths to open.")—it was only in cross-examination that any mention was made of the hammer referred to—this (Produced) is similar to the hammer referred
to—I do not recognise the knife—I believe Wheelerbread was represented by a solicitor—I have no note of it in my book.
Cross-examined. To the best of my belief the prisoner was sworn.
By the COURT. It certainly is not the practice at the North London Police Court to take evidence not on oath.
JOSEPH WHEELERBREAD . I am a chairmaker, of 59, Hufton Road, Hackney—for twenty years I worked for a Mr. Ferry—after leaving him, and for the past three years, I have worked for a Mr. Carter, of Camden Town—I have a fellow workman named Morse, who has worked at the next bench to me during that time—I am a widower with five children, and have a nephew at Walthamstow named Samuel John Hambrook—on July 5th, with some friends, I went to the Canadian Arch, Whitehall—we arrived there at about 11.35 p.m.—owing to the crowd I missed my friends—the 'buses were full, so I walked towards my home—I went past Shoreditch Church, through Hackney Road, through Goldsmith Row, into the Broadway, and on to London Fields—I arrived there at 2.30 a.m. on the 6th—I sat down on the first seat on the public path to rest—there was a woman on the seat—the prisoner was ahead of me walking down the path—he got over into the enclosure, and as I sat down he went up to a man lying upon the ground and kicked him with his right foot—the man got up, and the prisoner punched him with his right hand, knocking him down again—he then hustled him off the ground into Lansdowne Road—I lost sight of him for a minute, and then he came back along the path on my right towards the Broadway—he spoke to the woman, and she got up and went away—he said to me, "Now, get on here"—I said, "My good man, I am doing no harm, I am resting, I have just come from the Canadian Arch"—he said, "Go on, that will do"—I told him I was going to the Hackney Baths when they opened at six o'clock, then get my breakfast and go on to my nephew's at Walthamstow—he then hustled me off into the Broadway, and said, "I will take you down to the station"—I said, "My good man, you must be mad"—he then got hold of my arm—to the best of my recollection he arrested me almost opposite Devonshire Place, below the urinal in West Street—on the way to the station we went down Tredwin Road, and at about the third house down he stooped to pick up something, and began playing about with his right sleeve with his left hand—I said, "What have you there?"—he said, "You will hear about this later on"—I went quietly—I did not drop anything—he picked nothing up when he arrested me—I did not attempt to strike him, nor use the expression "Take that"—on the way to the station he said to me several times, "You thought I was a greenhorn"—he beckoned to another constable (Platt) on the way, and showed him his right hand and said, "This is a notorious character," or words to that effect—he had a scratch upon his finger—I saw that when he first came up to me on the seat—he kicked me twice with his left knee, and Platt hit me on the back of my neck twice with his open hand and knocked my pipe out of my mouth;
it fell to the ground—I asked the prisoner if I could pick up my pipe—he said, "We arc not here to wait on you and be your lackeys, you vagabond"—the pipe was left in the road—at the station I asked Inspector Goby what I was charged with, and he said, "You are not charged yet"—the prisoner showed Goby a knife which I disowned there and then, and told him I had one in my pocket with my name on it—the prisoner went out with Sergeant Reynolds and returned in half an hour, and I was put in the dock and charged—I denied all knowledge of the charge, and asked that my friends should be communicated with—the prisoner searched me and pretended to take a hammer out of my pocket, but I saw him working it down his right sleeve—he then informed the Inspector that he had just found the hammer upon me—I disowned it there and then—I had two keys, a 2-foot rule, and my own knife taken from me—these are they (Produced)—I said nothing about being sorry: I had done nothing to be sorry for—I was taken before a Magistrate on the 7th, remanded for a week, and discharged—I was not in Pownall Road on the 6th with a woman, or at all—I did not go into any gateways—a constable did not say to me in the Broadway, "What are you doing in those gateways"—I did not say, "That is best known to myself"—he did not say that he should take me if I could not give a better account—I did not say, "Then take that, you b—"—I did not cut him on his finger with a knife—I did not throw down a knife—he did not stoop to pick up a knife when he arrested me—I did not say that I had no home—I never saw this knife and hammer until I saw them at the station.
Cross-examined. I had not had a good many glasses of beer that night—the last meal I had was my dinner and tea together at home at about 4.15 p.m., with the exception of a saveloy which I had late at night in Drury Lane—I did not go home because I did not wish to wake my landlady at that early hour—my idea was to wait until the baths opened at 6 o'clock, and then go on to my nephew at Walthamstow to dinner at 1 or 2 p.m.—I should have to go before 11 a.m. because the trains do not run between Church hours—I was not asleep on the seat, only resting, as I had walked from the Canadian Arch—my house is about twenty minutes "walk from Shoreditch Church—London Fields is a little nearer from Shoreditch Church—if I had gone home I might have overslept myself—my landlady could have called me, but I did not wish to trouble her—I do not think I should have overslept myself in the Fields—I am prepared to swear that I was never in Pownall Road on this night, and am prepared to swear anything as regards the truth—the first time I ever saw the woman was when I sat on the seat—the seat was 12 feet long, I sat at one end and she at the other—I was not in her society—I gave her 2d. to get a cup of coffee—when I saw the prisoner kick the man I said to her, "Look at what the constable is doing to that man; look at the scoundrel"—I mentioned to my solicitor what I said to the woman, about the constable kicking the man, on July 7th, and also when I went to the Treasury on July 24th, where I was asked if there was anyone else on the seat—the prisoner and I were perfect strangers—I cannot suggest that he owed me any grudge; I have never done him any ill turn—I presume I can rest on the public highway
if I wish to—I was doing no harm there, neither was the other man—he was lying down, apparently asleep—I said that the woman went away after the prisoner spoke to her, not before—when he pointed to me and said. "Move on," I could see the graze on his finger—I use a hammer in my business, but the hammer produced would be no use at all, it is not heavy enough, it is only fit for tin tacks—I do not use a knife in my business; I always carry my own knife with me and my rule—the knife produced would be no use in my business—a clerk was sent by my firm, who said it was possible that the hammer and knife produced might be used in my trade—a clerk does not understand tools, and he knew nothing at all about what he was saying—when the prisoner had hold of me I did not notice passing any other policeman—I did not see a crowd a few moments before I was arrested—he showed his finger to Platt, whom he called to assist him, and said that I was a notorious character, or words to that effect, and then he kicked me, and Platt hit me twice on the back of my neck and knocked my pipe out of my mouth—I told my solicitor all this at the police Court—I do not know if he put it all down—I told Platt it was a lie, and that I had done nothing to the prisoner—I am quite clear; I was searched after the prisoner came back with Sergeant Reynolds—they went out together and returned in half an hour—I had not been charged up to that time—I was searched by two officers, I believe—there were two or three others present—I did not speak to the Inspector when the prisoner was going to search me because I did not understand about being in a police station, and did not know who had the right to search—I saw him shuffling something down his sleeve, so—there were other officers present—I am positive I did not say I was sorry for having done it, when he showed his finger to Platt: I had done nothing to be sorry for.
Re-examined. I was with my solicitor about half an hour before he went into Court on the 7th—I told him the whole story—I made my statement to Collins on the 18th when the warrant was granted—I told Collins about the prisoner having kicked the man on the ground—I did not tell him about the woman—I told them at the Treasury about the woman—this is my statement (Read: "When I sat down on the seat there was a woman sitting at the other end which I have not mentioned before to the Inspector, who took me over the ground when I pointed out the seat, or to any other person, as I did not think it necessary. I said to the woman 'See how that constable is kicking that poor man,' she said, 'It's a shame.' I then gave her 2d., and told her to get herself a cup of coffee."')
MARY SPARKS . I am an inmate of the Hackney Infirmary—on the, early morning of July 6th I was sitting on a seat in London Fields near the Broadway'—I had been there about two hours—a man came up and sat down at the other end of the seat—we got into conversation and he gave me 2d. to get myself a cup of tea—shortly after a policeman came up and got over into the enclosure—he then came up and told me to get up and go away—I got up and went towards Lansdowne Road—he then went to the man and hustled him off—I heard some words, but cannot say what they were—I saw something shining in the policeman's hand, but
cannot say what it was—I give my statement on oath for the first time to-day.
Cross-examined. I was not before the Magistrate—I cannot identify Wheelerbread, I had never seen him or the policeman before—I have no home—I have been in the Hackney Infirmary a fortnight—I first gave my statement a fortnight ago—being night light I thought I saw something shining in the policeman's hand.
JOHN TAVERNER (229 J.) On the night of July 5th I was on duty about the Broadway—my beat was next to that of Rolls—at 2.30 a.m. I heard a noise in the fish shop at the corner of Bremin Street—I tapped at the window and the witness Hall came to the door—the witness Smith came up from the other side of the road, and we all three stood talking together—just then I heard a noise like people shouting from the direction of London Fields—we all three walked towards the Fields up to the butcher's shop, 75, Broadway—I met Rolls there, and several men and one woman passed us going towards the canal—Rolls came from off the Fields immediately behind those people—he spoke to me—he held up a knife in one of his hands and said, "This is what they have done to me," at the same time showing a slight scratch on the back of one of his fingers—there was a little blood, it looked as if it had been freshly done—that was about 2.43 a.m.—this is the knife I saw in his hand—I asked who had done it and he said, "The ones who have done that have gone up the Lansdowne Road"—we were then facing London Fields—Wheelerbread was coming from the path towards us and stood at the juncture of the two paths—Rolls said, "This man wants an explanation"—Rolls went on to the Fields and told Wheelerbread to get out of it—he came off the Fields towards the Broadway, Rolls still following him—they walked towards West Street where Wheelerbread was taken into custody—that was some thirty or forty yards away from me—I was standing close to the urinal—I did not think it necessary to lend assistance as he went quietly—I did not see Rolls stoop down—I did not see Wheelerbread offer to strike him or resist in any way—they turned back, came past the urinal and went up Lansdowne Road—I watched them out of my sight and continued my beat—Rolls did not say one word to me about requiring assistance—he never spoke to me after he went on the Fields after Wheelerbread.
Cross-examined. I made no note at the time—I cannot say whether or not Rolls and Wheelerbread had come into contact before I saw them—I was first asked to make a report on the 9th—I do not know whether I mentioned the fish shop incident to Rolls—I was perfectly satisfied everything was all right—I cannot tell you whether Platt had asked me why I had not gone to Rolls' assistance—whatever Platt said to me I treated with contempt because he had not any right to ask me questions—I am quite sure Wheelerbread was walking towards us when I saw him—the only woman I saw, was the one with the men who passed us—I cannot say whether Wheelerbread saw me—to the best of my knowledge I said the same before the Magistrate as I have said here to-day—I do not wish to correct anything I said at the police court—I cannot swear to the handle, but I swear to the blade of the knife—I told Hall and Smith that they were
wanted at the station to make statements—I have never said one word to them except to say they were wanted at the station, when I was asked if there were any other witnesses—Rolls was off his beat when he spoke to me—that did not strike me as extraordinary, he may have had a call.
JOSEPH HALL . I am a fish fryer at 63, Broadway, London Fields—on July 6th in the early morning, I was cleaning up, and I heard a tap at the window—I went to the door and saw Taverner—immediately after we were joined by Bob Smith—we heard a noise proceeding from the Broadway, and walked there and saw about six men and one woman coming along the Broadway from the Fields—they were making a little noise and Taverner walked up to them—they had just passed by when Rolls came up from the direction of the Fields and spoke to Taverner—Rolls then went back towards the Fields, and I saw him go up to a man standing there—he said something to him and hustled him into the road—they walked down the Broadway, passed the urinal towards West Street, where Rolls took the man into custody—the man did not resist nor offer to strike the constable—they came back the way they went—I did not see Rolls stoop to pick up something.
Cross-examined. I was talking to Taverner about twenty minutes altogether—I was first asked to make a statement on the 9th by Taverner—I have not talked the matter over with Smith or anybody, nor have I seen anyone's statement.
ROBERT SMITH . I am a plasterer of 38, Duncan-Street—I know Hall—on the early morning of July 6th I was coming along the Broadway and saw Hall and Taverner at Hall's shop—some men and a woman came along the Broadway from the Fields—Rolls came up behind them from the Fields—I did not notice him speak to Taverner, but I saw him hustling Wheelerbread off the Fields—they walked up as far as West Street, where Rolls took Wheelerbread into custody—I did not see Wheelerbread make any resistance or offer to strike the constable—I did not see the constable stoop as if to pick up something—they then came back and walked in the direction of Lansdowne Road.
Cross-examined. Wheelerbread was walking in front of Rolls from London Fields, and he was taken into custody in West Street—I was about fifty yards away—it was about 3 a.m.—I made no note nor any complaint at the time—Tavener and Inspector Goby called on me on the following Thursday.
Re-examined. I then went to the police station and made the statement which I have given to-day.
WILLIAM WHITEHEAD (232 J.) I was acting-sergeant on the 6th—at 1.30 a.m. I saw Rolls at the junction of Marlborough Road and Regent's Road—he reported to me, "All correct"—up to 2 a.m. his beat would include Pownall Road—I set him another beat to commence at 2 a.m.—that beat would not include Pownall Road.
Cross-examined. He would be justified in following a man from off his beat if he thought he was a dangerous character.
Fields, and am a bookbinder—I have known the prisoner about eight months—he is a friend of my brother—about 1.45 a.m. on July 6th, I heard some rattling at the railings—I went to the door and saw the prisoner—he asked if my brother was in—I said, "Yes,"and asked him to come into the kitchen, where my mother and brother were—I offered him a cigar, which he took and lit, and shortly afterwards, about 2 a.m., he went away still smoking the cigar—he was in uniform—he went towards the Broadway, and would have to pass over some railings to get into London Fields—I saw him again in Bishopsgate Street Without on July 15th—he asked me if I saw what was in the papers—I said. "Yes,"and asked him if it happened when he left our place—he said, "No,"he had been on his own ground some time before it happened—I asked him if he took Wheelerbread from London Fields—he said, "No,"he was not near London Field?.
Cross-examined. He told me he had been watching a man and a woman in the Pownall Road, and had followed them along there—he told me that on the 7th in the evening—he said he arrested the man in the Broadway—he said nothing about Platt.
MRS. CARPENTER. I live at 14, London Place, and am a widow—the last witness is my daughter—I have known Rolls about six months—he came as a friend of my son—on July 6th Rolls came into my kitchen—he was given a cigar, which he lit and went away—my daughter saw him off about 2 a.m.
ISAAC GOBY (Police Inspector.) At 3 a.m. on July 6th I was at the station when Rolls and Platt came in with Wheelerbread—Rolls came to me and said, "A suspected person. Sir"—I took the charge—Rolls said, About 2.30 a.m. he had seen the prisoner Wheelerbread in company with a woman in Pownall Road, and he watched them; the man left the woman and entered three houses on the left side, that the front gardens in each of which he remained several minutes, the woman remaining outside apparently on the watch; that he rejoined the woman, and they went in the opposite direction from where he was standing towards the Broadway; that he followed them, and apparently they had noticed him following, and they hurried their pace, and when near Marlborough Road the woman turned to the right down Marlborough Road, and he lost sight of her; the man continued in the direction of the Broadway; that shortly afterwards he came up to him, and as he was about to arrest him. Wheelerbread turned round, and with his right hand made a deliberate thrust at his chest saying, "Take that, you b—"; that he put up his right hand to ward off the blow when he received a slight cut on the back of the middle finger; that he dropped something, and he at once picked up an old knife which he produced to me—this is it—"that he arrested the prisoner and brought him down Lansdowne Road towards the station, where he met Platt, who accompanied them to the station; that on the way Wheelerbread said he was sorry for what he had done."—I asked Platt if he had heard that remark, and he said he had. Wheelerbread said he was a little bit deaf, and I repeated to him Rolls statement, and pointed to the knife. Wheelerbread said he had never seen the knife before, that the charge was false.
and that he had never been in Pownall Road or in company of a woman that night. I asked Rolls some questions, and he said there was no one present when he arrested Wheeler bread, and he had not time to examine the houses. I then gave some directions to Sergeant Reynolds—Rolls searched Wheelerbread, and apparently took this hammer from his pocket and placed it on the desk in front of me—Wheelerbread said he had never seen the hammer before, and that Rolls must have put it there—Rolls said to Wheelerbread, "Do you think we carry tools like this about with us?"—Wheelerbread replied, "It looks like it."—there were also found on Wheelerbread a knife with his name on it, a 2-ft. rule, and the two keys produced—before these were taken from him Wheelerbread said he possessed a knife with his name on it—in reply to the remark that he was sorry for what he had done, Wheelerbread said, "I have done nothing to be sorry for, why should I say that?"—after Wheelerbread had been searched, Rolls and Reynolds went out and returned—I had not accepted any charge up to that time.
By the COURT. In consequence of the denial of Wheelerbread I was not satisfied.
By MR. BODKIN. I told Reynolds to accompany Rolls, and told Rolls to point out the exact spot where he was standing at the—time he saw the man and woman; to examine the houses in Pownall Road to see if there were any marks; and to endeavour to trace the woman; to point out the exact spot where he effected the arrest, arid ascertain if possible whether anyone, was present who saw the arrest—when they returned to the station Reynolds said the spot where Rolls first saw the man and woman was at the comer of Queen's Road and Pownall Road on the right-hand side—the houses in Pownall Road were Nos. 31, 33, and 35—Reynolds said there were no marks upon them—the exact spot where the arrest took place he said was outside a butcher's shop, No. 67, Broadway—I then took the charge—Wheelerbread again said it was false—after the hearing before the Magistrate Rolls was called upon to make a report—this is it (Read)—"July 12th Re report being called for by my Inspector Goby re making false and unfounded charge against a private person, thereby bringing discredit on the service, I beg to report that the charge was a lawful and just one, but I was not allowed to give any further statement at the Police Court; neither was any witness allowed to give evidence, so I was unable to ask any questions so as to prove the case a lawful and just one, as Inspector Goby asked for no further evidence to be given."
Cross-examined. It would be the duty of any officer to come off his beat to follow a man who was suspected of loitering with intent to commit a felony—Platt only corroborated Rolls in the remark about Wheelerbread being sorry for what he had done—I am quite sure Wheelerbread was searched before Rolls and Reynolds went out of the station to go to Pownall Road—Rolls was the only officer who searched him—there were three others present besides myself—I had no reason to suppose that the hammer was not taken from Wheelerbread's pocket—I saw nothing to suggest that there was anything underhand in the way Wheelerbread was searched—. Wheelerbread did not say he had been assaulted, neither did he mention
anything about the man whom he saw Rolls kicking in the Fields or the woman on the seat.
Re-examined. I could not see Rolls put his hand into Wheelerbread's pocket from where I stood, and it never would occur to me that something was being put into his pocket by one of my own officers.
FREDERICK REYNOLDS (40 J.) Acting under the instructions of Inspector Goby, I went out with the prisoner on July 6th in the early morning in order that he might point out certain localities to me—he pointed out No. 67, Broadway, as the spot where he had arrested Wheelerbread—he said no one was present—I examined 31, 33, and 35, Pownall Road, but found no marks—in the course of our walk he said nothing about his having been on London Fields, or of any incident having occurred in West Street.
Cross-examined. I saw some of the searching, and of course I assumed the hammer was taken from Wheelerbread's pocket—I could not see his pocket—he did not say he picked up the knife in Tredwin Road, he said he picked it up in the Broadway when he arrested Wheelerbread.
HENRIETTA LOUISA KAISERLEY . I live at 59, Hufton Road, Kingsland, and am a teacher of music—Mr. Wheelerbread has been lodging with me for about ten months, and I have always found him respectable—he had a latch key—he did not come home on the night of July 5th—I have never seen him in the possession of the knife and hammer produced.
Cross-examined. I have never seen him in the possession of any hammer—I should not be angry if he came in at three in the morning.
CHARLES MORSE . I live at 118, Corporation Buildings, Farringdon Street—I work for Mr. Carter, High Street, Camden Town, cabinet maker—Wheelerbread has worked at the next bench to me during the past three years—I have never seen him use the knife or hammer produced.
HENRY COLLINS (Detective Inspector J.) I arrested Rolls on a warrant on July 18th—I prepared sufficient information to justify the Magistrate in granting the warrant—Rolls said nothing in answer to the charge.
Cross-examined. He has been in the force eighteen years.
Re-examined. At different times there have been reports against him.
SAMUEL JOHN HAMBROOK . I live at 51, Milton Road, Walthamstow, and am a postman—Mr. Wheelerbread is my uncle—on the day of his arrest I was expecting him to dinner, which was fixed for 1 p.m.—he would have to come before then, as the trains cease running between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that when he got into the Broadway he saw Tavener, and said if Wheelerbread could not give a satisfactory answer he should take him to the station; that Wheelerbread was then in the Broadway close to the urinal, and was not on the Fields; that when he arrested Wheelerbread he turned round, but could not see Taverner; that he did not see Smith or Hall; that he then took Wheelerbread along the Lansdowne Road, where he met Platt, who at his request came to his assistance; when the Inspector told him he had a report front Tavener, and asked him why he had not mentioned seeing Tavener, he said because Taverner was within only ten months of his being pensioned, and had he spoken about it he
would have been placed on the report for not coming to his assistance, as it was Taverner's place to follow directly he told him he was going to take Wheelerbread to the station; that he was off his beat and smoking, but was never on the enclosure in London Fields; that he knew the seat in question and if anyone sitting on it was talking loudly it could be heard on the enclosure in front of it; that he did not approach Taverner from the London Fields, and did not see a number of men and women coming along the Broadway; that he arrested Wheelerbread in the road close to the urinal that he did not point to 67, Broadway as staled by Sergeant Reynolds; that he did not arrest Wheelerbread in West Street or show Taverner a knife before he arrested Wheelerbread, or say to him that the people who had done it had gone up the Lansdowne Road; that he did not go up to the seat where Wheelerbread was sitting and turn him off into the Broadway or turn a woman off the same seat; that Wheelerbread was smoking, but he could not say whether smoking was reserved for constables on duty, though a good many policemen and inspectors did smoke at night; that Wheelerbread might have had a revolver, and that was why he required assistance; that he did not pick up anything in Tredwin Road, nor did Wheelerbread ask him what he had picked up or say that he would know later on; that Wheeler bread did not tell him he had been to the Canadian Arch, and had intended to rest until the baths opened, but said that he had no home, and he (Rolls) told Inspector Goby so when Wheelerbread gave his name and address at the station; and that he would swear he took the hammer out of Wheeler-bread's pocket in Flinton's presence.
Witness for the Defence.
FREDERICK FLINTON (576J.) I was present when Rolls searched Wheelerbread—I had a full opportunity of seeing him make that search—I saw him put his hand into the pocket of the prosecutor and take out the hammer—Rolls could not have shuffled the hammer down his sleeve without my being aware of the fact.
Cross-examined. I was standing on the side of the pocket that was searched, about 1 1/2 yards away looking towards the pocket.
GUILTY . Judgment respited.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, September 17th, 1902.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LEVER and MR. LUCAS Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL and MR. HUTTON
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MARTIN Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COHEN Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
BENJAMIN CONNELLY . I am ten years old—I live at 31, North Street, Hackney, with my parents—I recollect on an afternoon in July my uncle, Thomas Hyatt, being outside his own door on the ground—there was a disturbance—the prisoner kicked at me and missed—he kicked again and caught me on the hip—I was in great pain—I was taken to the London Hospital and put to bed—I stayed in the hospital for a week—I continue to go there once a fortnight—I still feel pain.
Cross-examined. There was a crowd—fighting was going on—a man, Tucker, was fighting with Hyatt—fifteen or twenty men were round hustling and fighting—I had not said anything to Porter, nor he to me—Tucker was standing close to me when I was kicked—he was fighting behind me with some more men—he was swearing—Porter did not say anything—my grandmother was near—I did not hear her say it was Tucker who kicked me—I was in great pain—I was carried away at once—Porter was in front when he kicked me—I was standing against the wall—the person who kicked me must have been on the side of me—I had done nothing to Porter.
Re-examined. I am quite sure it was Porter who kicked me—it was a running kick—it was meant for me—I think so because I was throwing cherry stones at Tucker when he was hitting my uncle.
EMMA HYATT . I am the little boy's grandmother—I live at 4, North Street, Hackney, at the address of my son, Thomas Hyatt, a plumber—I was present on the afternoon of July 18th when there was a disturbance—I was standing at the door with my little friend at my side when Porter made a running kick at him—the boy threw cherry stones at Tucker—Porter made another kick and hit the boy on the hip—Porter was in front of the boy—when he was kicked the boy stood against the window ledge and cried there till his mother came—Porter went away—I saw him about a fortnight or three weeks afterwards.
Cross-examined. I gave information to the police the same day, and they took his name and address—I did not say it was Tucker who kicked the boy, I knew who kicked him because he abused me when I told him of it—I swear Robert Crocker, of 6, North Street, was not there in the mob—his wife told me last Tuesday he was not, only looking through his window—I did not see Milling there—there was a great deal of hustling and pushing—Tucker and Slade got my son down, making a savage attack—my son had a piece of iron in his hand—the prosecutor is my daughter's boy—she married Connelly—my son had got up when the boy was kicked—some men were fighting my son and he resisted them, and there was scuffling and hustling amongst the mob—I had just got my son indoors when the boy was kicked—I was standing at my own street door—a mob was round me—I am quite sure it was not Tucker who kicked my grandson—I have never said it was.
he said his name was not Wilson, his name was Porter, and he knew nothing about it—I charged him in the name of Joseph William Porter—he said he lived somewhere over Blackfriars Bridge, but did not know the name of the street—on July 19th I received two summonses to serve on the prisoner in the name of Wilson, Marcus Street, Hoxton.
RALPH NORMAN (M.D.) I was at the London Hospital when the boy was brought in on July 18th—I examined him and found no bruise or sign of injury on the hip—he complained of great pain—when radiographed by the X-Rays I found a partial fracture of the upper part of the hip bone—that is serious in that it might prevent the growth of the boy—in accordance with my order he was kept in splints in the hospital and put in plaister of Paris, and then allowed to go out as an out patient—some one has seen him once a week—I cannot say whether he will be finally cured, that will depend on the amount of injury done.
Cross-examined. The injury is uncommon, I have never seen or heard of one caused by a fall—violent contact with a step might cause it.
The prisoner, in defence on oath, said he was a professional pugilist walking out for exercise from where he lived in New Street, Kennington Park Road, to attend "Wonderland, a boxing place in Whitechapel, and that he saw a row and took no part in it, and did not kick the boy.
Evidence for the defence.
THOMAS TUCKER . I am a fruit salesman—on July 18th, about mid-day, as I was passing the Hare public-house, Hyatt was coming out—we quarrelled and fought—we struggled for a piece of iron and I was severely handled by the crowd—I did not see Porter—Mrs. Hyatt came up as we were explaining to the policeman—she made a rambling statement that I do not remember, but she never said that I kicked the boy.
Cross-examined. I live at the Broadway, London Fields—I heard a man say that a man pulled out a knife, and I joined the crowd.
GUILTY . A conviction of larcency was proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. BRODERICK Prosecuted.
BARNETT FREEDMAN (Interpreted.) I live at 30, Hanworth Street; Spitalfields—I am a caretaker of the Old Castle Street Synagogue—on August 26th I went there about 6 p.m.—a crowd of people and police were gathered at the door—I opened the door and went in—I found the prisoner coming from the ladies' gallery stairs—I asked him, "How come you in?"—he said, "You locked me in this morning"—I spoke in Yiddish—I said, "How could I lock you in in the morning? I never see you till the first time now"—he said, "I do not know"—a constable took charge of him—I examined the Synagogue and found the poor box and the box for incurables lying on a form, broken open, and nothing in them—I have the care of the boxes—the poor box has a padlock on—a gentleman had
given me 2s. and I had also put 6d. in silver in the poor box in the morning, and 1s. had been left in it—there were only farthings left when it was found—some keys were missing out of the safe—I said, "If you do not tell me where the keys are it will be bad for you"—he told me where they were—they were in a different place to where I left them—I used to keep them on a little nail end on the top of the Ark, but I did not find them there—I cannot say what was in the box for incurables, because the collector had not been for twelve months.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. There is no back door—I did not come at three o'clock—the police searched you and found the money from the boxes—it is not true that I wanted to strike you but that the police prevented it.
By the COURT. The only way the prisoner could have got in was by stopping after the morning members had gone, and hiding himself—the regular members come at 6 a.m., and 6 p.m. to 7, and I notice every person who comes in.
LOUIS TANNERMAN . I reside at 114, Old Castle Street, Whitechapel—on August 25th I first noticed the shadow of a man through the window of the synagogue from the back of my window, about 3.15 p.m.—I went to the street door of the synagogue and knocked, but received no answer—I looked through the keyhole and saw the prisoner walking up and down and working at the lock of the door or something—I sent for a constable and for the caretaker to get the key—when the door was opened I saw the prisoner brought out.
FRANCIS BREED . (127 H.) I was called by Tannerman about 5.30—the caretaker unlocked the door of the synagogue—I went in and arrested the prisoner—I examined and found the place all disarranged—I found these boxes had been broken open—one had been fastened with a seal—the poor box had a padlock on—I took the prisoner to the station and charged him—I found on him 8s. 9d. silver and 4s. 7d. bronze, a knife, a tuning fork, and a purse—when charged he said through the interpreter at the station, "May I go blind whether I ever attempted to break out, and it is all false what they say."
Cross-examined. Both boxes were broken open.
The prisoner, in defence on oath, said he was a priest, and went to the synagogues at 7.30 a.m. to pray, and in the ladies' gallery to write receipts for goods, and was locked in; that he tried to get out by knocking, at three o'clock when the police came, arrested him, searched him, and took everything they found from him.
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(663) FREDERICK HUZZEY , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Eliza Archer, and stealing thirty packets of cigarettes and 9s. 6d. in money having been convicted of felony at Stratford Police Court on December 7th, 1901. Twelve months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(664) WILLIAM HENRY THODEY to demanding 21s. from the Pearl Life Assurance Company by means of a forged instrument. Nine months' in the Second Division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(665) ARTHUR THOMPSON (28) , to stealing a bicycle and eleven guineas, the property of Christopher Fish. Nine months' hard labour to run concurrently with a previous sentence by a magistrate of six months for a similar offence. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
GUILTY of indecent assault. Six months' hard labour.
667. JAMES WILLIAMS (24) and JAMES BANNISTER (23), PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling house of William Charles Watson and stealing four bracelets and other articles, having been convicted at this Court in September, 1901.
WILLIAMS, nine months' hard labour and three years' penal servitude, to run concurrently. BANNISTER, three years' penal servitude.
668. JOSEPH SUTCH (43), to stealing an overcoat and jacket, the property of John Rowlandson , having been convicted in November, 1900. Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
JOSIAN BURN . I am a fishmonger of Walthamstow—on August 4th I turned a pony of mine into an open field—it was not fastened up—at 6.30 next morning it was gone, and I communicated with the police—on August 26th I saw it at Stapleton's Repository.
SIAH SMITH . I am a horse-dealer living in a caravan at the back of the Coach and Horses Inn, Ilford—on August 6th, at 11 a.m., I was at the Green Gate, Barking Side—I saw the prisoner leading a black pony—he asked me if I knew where a Mr. Fenton lived—I told him, and he went in that direction—presently he came back with the pony, and asked me to buy it—he wanted 50s. for it—I asked him to ran it up the road, which he did—I told him it was lame, and not worth 50s.—subsequently I bought it for £2—on August 25th I put it up to be sold at Stapleton's Repository," and had to give it back.
JOHN LEE (Detective). On August 28th, at 9 a.m., I saw the prisoner in the Caledonian Road—I stopped him and said I should arrest him on suspicion of stealing a black pony from a field at Walthamstow—he said This is a nice thing; do you mean to say Joe Burn is going to charge me; I did not think he would do that—on the way to the station he said, "My mother would sooner have given him £20 than he should have done this; this is a nice thing just after having done twenty-one days; when I come out I will have nothing more to do with any of them again."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he knew nothing about
the robbery; that he bought the pony of a traveller for 30s., and that he was not at Walthamstow on August 4th, 5th, or 6th.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Chelmsford on February 14th, 1900, and two other convictions were proved against him. Six months' hard labour.
MR. FRIEND Prosecuted.
GEORGE WASHINGTON . I am a fireman on board the "Caspian"—on September 7th, about 10.15 p.m., I was going from the West India Dock Road to Canning Town Station—a woman stopped me and asked me to go and sleep with her—I said I did not want to—she then spoke to the two prisoners, who followed me, and in a dark place Newland caught hold of my arm, while Howard took 10s. in silver from my pocket—I asked them to give me my money back, and Newland hit me on the jaw—I saw Howard give the money to the woman—when she got it she ran away—I followed the prisoners, and gave them into custody.
Cross-examined by Howard. I never lost sight of either of you—I am a stranger in that part of London.
EDWARD FOSTER (76 K.R.) I was on duty in Victoria Dock Road at 10.15 p.m. on September 7th—the two prisoners passed me—immediately after the prosecutor cried out, "Officer, these two men have robbed me"—I went after the prisoners and stopped them—when charged Howard said, "I know nothing about it; I have never seen the man"—I searched him at the station and found sixpence on him—the prosecutor showed me where he had been robbed—it is dark at that particular spot, but otherwise it is a fairly well-lighted road.
Cross-examined by Howard. I did not see a woman there.
ROBERT FRESHLY (378 K.) I was with Foster on September 7th, about 10.15 p.m., in the Victoria Dock Road, when the prosecutor made a statement to me—I arrested Newland—when charged he made no reply—I searched him, but found nothing on him—he gave his address at a common lodging-house in Bow Road.
Howard, in his defence on oath, denied assaulting the prosecutor, and said that he deliberately asked him for money, and that he was not in the company of any woman that night.
Newland, in his defence on both said that he had nothing to do with the assault upon the prosecutor, who was committing perjury.
GEORGE WASHINGTON (Re-examined.) Not three minutes elapsed between the time of the assault and the meeting of the policemen—I kept the prisoners within sight the whole time—the woman ran the opposite way.
GUILTY . Discharged on their own recognisances.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
COLOMBO CARINO (Interpreted.) I am a seaman on board the "Baltico," lying in the Victoria Dock—on the night of September 5th I was going along the Victoria Dock Road, and was surrounded by five or six men, one of whom was the prisoner—I was knocked down, and my pockets were rifled—the prisoner then ran away with the others, and I ran after him, and a policeman caught him—I had several bruises, and my trousers pocket was torn down.
JAMES DUNSTALL (546 K.) On September 6th, at 12.15 a.m., I saw the prosecutor surrounded by six men—the prisoner deliberately struck him on his head with his fist and knocked him down—the other men then fell on him—I ran towards them and caught the prisoner—he was never out of my sight.
GUILTY of assault with intent to rob. Three months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. GRANTHAM Prosecuted.
HENRY GIBBS . I live at 56, Stevendale Road, Fulham—in November, 1898, I saw an advertisement in the Daily Chronicle for a young man to put down £25 premium to learn carpentering and cabinet making—it was in the name of Reeves—I answered it personally, and paid the £25 to the prisoner—he started me at work on a job in Upper Thames Street, and I worked there about a month—I only got two weeks' wages, and took out a summons for the balance at the North London Police Court—the same day the prisoner bolted, and I saw no more of him until a short time ago at Stratford.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I first saw you at Hornsey Rise, and next at Duncombe Road—I saw no work being done there, nor any carpenter's benches—you had a workshop at Tottenham Road, but I saw no work done—on the job at Upper Thames Street I was supplied with tools—I do not remember going to 57, St. John's Road.
GEORGE HENRY RICH . I am a carpenter living at Holloway—in November, 1898, I answered an advertisement in the Chronicle of the name of Reeves, wanting a young man to put down £25 premium, and to learn carpentering—I paid the money to the prisoner by cheque—I did two weeks' work, but only got one weeks money—I took out a summons for the balance the same time as Gibbs, but Reeves had gone.
Cross-examined. I first saw you at 35, Tottenham Road—I saw men at work there, and also at Duncombe Road—I did not go to 87, St. John's Road—while I was at work I used your tools—I do not know whether you took anything away with you when you went.
Re-examined. The men I saw at work might have had the same misfortune as myself.
Evidence for the Defence.
MRS. BARNES. The prisoner came to lodge at my house at Liverpool on January 4th, 1899—he did not bring anything with him—we were afterwards married.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he went away because he had failed in business and could not face the police court proceedings, but that he took nothing with him, and left a letter behind instructing his clerk to sell everything and divide the proceeds between the men; that he had no intention to defraud when he took the money.— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Sessions House, Newington, on October 22nd, 1894, in the name of Walter Reeves. Three years' penal servitude.
MR. WARBURTON, for the Prosecution, proceeded on the second count only; MR. KEITH FRITH defended, and the evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.
MARY POTKINS . I am housemaid to Mr. Harper, of Athelstone, The Avenue, Wanstead—on June 20th, at 10.30 p.m., I fastened the doors and windows and went to bed—at 6.30 next morning I found the doors open, and the kitchen window broken—the place was in great disorder.
AUGUSTINE HARPER . I am the wife of Augustus Harper, of Athelstone, The Avenue, Wanstead—at 6.30 a.m. on June 21st I was called down-stairs by the last witness, and found there had been a burglary—about £35 worth of goods were stolen—the articles produced are mine.
FREDERICK J. ALLEN (Detective Sergeant.) On July 26th I went with Detective Sergeant Handley to 82, Lambeth Street, Whitechapel, where I saw the prisoner and a woman—I told him we were police officers, and had reason to believe he had some stolen property there, and should search the place—he said, "What is in my room is mine"—in his room we found the articles produced—I asked him where he got them from, and he said, "They were given to me by a pal gone out to South Africa"—the woman then said something to him in Yiddish, and he said, "I bought them in the Lane about five months ago of a man named Isaac Morris; I gave him £1 10s. for them; he has now gone out to South Africa"—I did not consider his explanation satisfactory, and took him to the police station—when charged he made no reply—he spoke to me in English.
Cross-examined. I seized the goods without a search warrant, but on reliable information—I do not know that summonses have been obtained against the Commissioner of Police in consequence of my action—I had not much difficulty in making the prisoner understand me—he said he bought the things in the Lane five months ago, not five weeks ago—I found a diamond ring and a bank book showing £28 10s. deposited between June 28th and July 24th, and another £12 deposited eight days after the
burglary—he did not tell me that he had been receiving money from Russia.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a tailor's presser, earning 25s. to 30s. a week; that he paid 5s. a week rent; and that he bought the articles in the Lane for 30s.
Evidence for the Defence.
BARNET LEVIN . I am a bootmaker of 82, Lambeth Street—I was with the prisoner on July 13th, about 12 o'clock, when he bought some goods from a stall in Middlesex Street for 30s.—the articles produced are some of the goods he bought.
Cross-examined. I live in the same house as the prisoner—I do not know anyone of the name of George Millee.
ROSE LEVY . About eight weeks ago I remember the prisoner showing me some silver articles which he said he had bought in the Lane—I told him they were worth £2 or £2 10s., but he said he only paid 30s. for them—the articles produced are some of them.
Cross-examined. I recognise the knives and forks produced by the fancy handles.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of receiving. Three years' penal servitude. The Court made an order for £10 compensation to be paid to the prosecutor.
MR. WARDE Prosecuted.
HENRY CROSSAN . I am a farrier at 11, Suffolk Road, Plaistow—on August 11th, about 9.30 p.m., I was standing at the gate with my wife talking to the next-door neighbour, when the prisoner, intoxicated and stripped to the waist, challenged me to fight—I said, "I do not want to fight"—he said, "You are just my b—mark,"and struck at me with his left hand—I warded that off, and he then hit me on the ribs, knocking me, down—he knocked me down three times—I was then helped into the house—two policemen came, and I charged the prisoner with assaulting me—at the station I was seen by a doctor, who directed me to go to Poplar Hospital—I was an in-patient eight days suffering from a broken rib, and have attended as an out-patient ever since—I cannot do any work—at the time of the assault I was suffering from a tad arm.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Previous to challenging me you wanted to fight the man opposite—it was not a stand-up fight—I did not knock you down—I did not hit you when on the ground.
CATHERINE CROSSAN . I am the wife of the last witness—I was present when the prisoner challenged my husband to fight—the prisoner was stripped to his waist—my husband did not take off his coat to fight—when my husband was knocked down I fainted.
FLORENCE CHITTY . I live at 9, Suffolk Road—I was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Crossan when the prisoner challenged Mr. Crossan to fight—I did not see him go into his house and take off his coat—when he was struck by the prisoner Mrs. Crossan fainted.
Cross-examined. Some boys had hung your clothes on my railings—I did not know whose they were, and took them to Mrs. Crossan.
JOHN BURROWS (517 K.) On August 11th I was on duty in Barking Road—I was called to 11, Suffolk Road—I went with the prosecutor to 135, Wentworth Road, where we saw the prisoner—I arrested him—he was drunk.
Cross-examined. You said you did not know what I was arresting you for—at the station you said you had had a stand-up fight.
MR. MARSH. I am house-surgeon at Poplar Hospital—on August 11th Crossan was brought in, suffering from a fractured rib—I strapped him up and he went home—the following day he was admitted as an in-patient, and remained about a week—he has been attending as an out-patient ever since—it will be three or four weeks before he is well—I do not think there will be any permanent injury.
Cross-examined. I do not think the injury was caused by a blow with the fist—it is very likely that it was caused by a fall.
Evidence for the Defence.
JOHN COLLIER . I was present on August 11th, and saw the fight—I heard Pepper ask Crossan if he could fight—Crossan said, "I think I can challenge you," and went indoors and took off his coat—they came into the road and had a fair fight—in the first round Crossan knocked Pepper down and started punching him on the ground—Pepper said, "Be a man if you are going to fight, and let me get up"—in the second round both men fell on the kerb—in the third round Pepper knocked Crossan down.
Cross-examined. I live at 20, Lower Road, Plaistow, and am employed at the Thames Iron Shipbuilding Works—I have known the prisoner about nine years—he asked me to give evidence the following evening—I was not called as a witness at the West Ham Police Court—before the fight with Crossan, Pepper had had a row with his wife—in the second round of the fight, when both men fell on to the kerb, Crossan was underneath—after the third round they shook hands and kissed.
RICHARD DICKSON . I saw the fight on August 11th, about 9.30 p.m.—I heard the two men having a row and then they took off their coats and came into the road and fought—I cannot say who was knocked down in the first round—in the second round the prisoner fell on top of Crossan on the edge of the kerb—I did not see what took place in the third round.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had his shirt sleeves rolled up—at the end of the third round I saw him shake hands with Crossan and kiss him—I cannot say whether the men were drunk or sober.
the street"—I went out and saw Pepper and Crossan sparring—they both had their coats off—they fell together; I picked Pepper up, and another man picked Crossan up—Crossan then said he had finished, and would give Pepper best—they then shook hands and kissed.
Cross-examined. I am a dock labourer—I have known the prisoner about seven years—I do not know how the fight commenced—I was asked to give evidence about a week ago—I did not know that at the time of the fight Crossan was suffering from a bad arm—it might be that Crossan was only defending himself, I cannot say—the prisoner had been drinking.
ALBERT SUNSHINE . I was in Suffolk Street on August 11th—I did not see the commencement of the fight, but I saw the two men fall to the ground—I picked up the prosecutor—he said to me, "My arm is bad, I will have no more"—I said, "You had better give it up"—the men shook hands and kissed.
Cross-examined. Both men had their coats off—I cannot say whether their shirtsleeves were rolled up.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he left work at 5 o'clock on August 11th, and met a friend who had just come from Australia, with whom he had four glasses of beer; that he then went home, and finding his wife had pawned some of his things had a few words with her and got excited; and that he did not remember fighting with the prosecutor.
The prisoner received an excellent-character.
GUILTY . Discharged on his own recognizances.
MR. L. GREEN Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
GEORGE TERRELL . I am a labourer of 163, Wakefield Street, East Ham—the prisoner's shop backs on to a court which runs into Wakefield Street—on August 10th, about 10.15 p.m., I was passing the court on my way home when he tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I knew who broke his window—I said I did not know—he then closed with me and wounded me in the right thigh and slightly in the testicles with an ice-pricker—my father came up then and said, "Give me that thing before you do any damage with it," but the prisoner rushed at him and stabbed him in the wrist, and then ran away—I fetched a constable and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. The wound in the testicles was caused with the ice-pricker—I saw a doctor with regard to the thigh wound, but not as to the testicles—I have never taken any part in annoying the prisoner—I know Mr. Brows, a hairdresser, of 73, Catherine Road—he has never told me to stop annoying the Italians—I have never said, "We mean to out him"—at 8.30 the same evening the prisoner threatened to hit my mother, and I challenged him to fight—my mother threatened to smash his face with a jug if he hit her—there are a good many hooligans about the neighbourhood, but they are not friends of mine—I am not the ringleader of any gang of roughs—I work at Ilford for Mr. Watson, a bricklayer, of Rosebery
Avenue, Whitepost Lane, East Ham—I am not in regular employment—I was at work all last week and the week before.
Re-examined. Brows advised me to have nothing to do with the crowd, and I said I did not intend to.
By the COURT. I did not go home with my mother at 8.30 p.m., but spent the evening with my young lady—I left her at 10.5, and met my father at 10.15 p.m.—I had not met any boys during the ten minutes—I was talking to my father about two or three minutes—from the time I left him till the time I was assaulted by the prisoner I had not met any boys.
WILLIAM TERRELL . I live at 163, Wakefield Street, East Ham, and am a retort lead fitter—on August 10th, at 10.15 p.m., I was with my son at the corner of Catherine Road and Wakefield Street—my son left me to go home up Wakefield Street, passing the court leading to the rear of the prisoner's shop—my attention was called to some boys running from the direction of Wakefield Street, and I walked up and saw my son at the entrance of the court—the prisoner was opposite on the other side of the road—my son informed me that the prisoner had kicked him—I went up to the prisoner and saw this long ice pricker (Produced) in his hand—I asked him for it, telling him he had done some damage with it—he made a thrust at my face—I put up my arm and received a thrust in my wrist—he then ran away, and I informed the police.
Cross-examined. I did not try to take the ice pricker from him, I asked him to give it me, as I thought he might do more damage with it—I know, he has been annoyed by a gang of boys for some time past.
WILLIAM EDWARD BROWN . I am a coal hawker, of 121, Wakefield Street, East Ham—on August 10th, at 10.15 p.m., I was in the front room of my house, which is close to the court—I heard a smashing of glass and came out—the prisoner came from the court and stabbed the prosecutor with the ice pricker produced—he then ran towards his shop.
JOHN WAKELEY (545 K.) On August 10th, at 11.15, the prosecutor's father complained to me, and I went to the prisoner's shop—I told him I should take him into custody for stabbing George William Terrell—I asked him for the ice pricker, and he said, "There it is on the floor"—I picked it up and took him to the station—when charged he said, "I will answer to the Court."
Cross-examined. The prisoner has complained at the station of having been annoyed by boys.
GEORGE PERCY SEARLE . I am Surgeon of the K Division—I examined the prosecutor, and found him suffering from a punctured wound in his right thigh, extending from the front to the back—it might have been caused by the ice pricker produced—the father only had a slight scratch on his wrist.
Cross-examined. It was not a slight matter, though it did not injure any vessel.
The prisoner, in his defence on cath said that the prosecutor came into his shop, and he turned him out; that the prosecutor's mother came up and threatened to break her beer jug in his face, and they then went away; that later on he was standing outside his shop and heard a smashing of
glass at the back; that he went through his shop to the yard and saw the prosecutor run from the yard with others into the court; that he ran into the court, where he was surrounded by fifteen or twenty boys with knives, sticks, and revolvers; that he tried to get away and gave two or three punches; that he had nothing in his hand, and the prosecutor must have been wounded by some one else; that he did not say, "All right "when the constable charged him with stabbing the prosecutor, but he told him he had made a mistake.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDWARD WILLIAM BROWSE . I am a hairdresser, of 73, Catherine Road, East Ham—on August 10th, at 10 a.m., the prosecutor came into my shop to be shaved—I advised him to have nothing to do with the prisoner and to stop annoying him—he said he was going to out the prisoner—in the evening I again saw the prosecutor outside the prisoner's shop in a fighting attitude—later on I heard a smashing of glass—I went to the back of my house and saw about eighteen lads, including the prosecutor, setting about the prisoner right and left.
Cross-examined. I spoke to the prosecutor first because I knew the prisoner had been annoyed, and that the prosecutor mixed with those who annoyed him—I have never actually seen him annoying the prisoner—I saw nothing in the prisoner's hand nor the hands of those who surrounded him.
ALBERT NAPPETT . I live next door to the prisoner—on this Sunday evening I saw him run after some boys who were annoying him—he caught one lad—a crowd assembled, and the prosecutor's mother came up with a jug and threatened to smash it in the prisoner's face—the prosecutor then came, took off his coat, and threatened to fight the prisoner—he has been annoyed by boys round his shop—he is a thoroughly respectable and peaceable man, the best neighbour we have had for five years.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner had hold of the lad I heard Mrs. Terrell tell the child to fetch his parents—the prisoner did not then threaten to strike Mrs. Terrell, neither did I hear young Terrell say, "If you strike my mother I'll strike you"—I saw nothing in the prisoner's hand.
THOMAS WILLIAM ROLFE . I live next to the prisoner—on this evening at 8 p.m. I saw the prosecutor offering to fight the prisoner—at 10.15 p.m. I heard the breaking of glass, and went out at the back and heard a scuffle, but could not see anything—I then went to the front and saw the prisoner—he was calling "police."
Cross-examined. I did not hear the prisoner threaten to strike Mrs. Terrell—she threatened to break the prisoner's face with a jug.
Re-examined. There has been no disturbance since.
GUILTY, with great provocation. Discharged on recognisances.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. MATHEWS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
The prisoner then PLEADED GUILTY to the manslaughter of the said Emily Dickson. Six months in the second division.
MR. MATHEWS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Ten years' penal servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. COHEN Prosecuted.
By the direction of the Recorder the Jury returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WHITELEY Prosecuted.
WILLIAM WILLINGBACK . I am a constable in the employ of the Company—at 8 p.m. on July 23rd I was on the siding and saw the two lads standing about 50 yards off—to reach that part they would have to climb a fence about 8 feet high and cross four sets of metals—Reddon placed three stones on the down main line and a piece of wood—on seeing me they ran away—an engine passed smashing two of the stones—about half an hour after I saw them at the same place, when Reddon placed this piece of wood on the down main line and Wiggins placed two stones close by—I caught Reddon—Wiggins got away—a passenger train was passing, and I removed the obstructions.
GUILTY . REDDON— Two months in the second division. WIGGINS— Two days' imprisonment.
684. PRINCE FRANCIS JOSEPH OF BRAGANZA, HENRY CHANDLER (15), WILLIAM GERRY (24), and CHARLES SHERMAN (17) , Committing acts of gross indecency; CHANDLER and SHERMAN were also charged with being parties to acts of gross indecency and GERRY, CHANDLER, and SHERMAN, conspiring to commit like acts.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; SIR EDWARD CLARKE, K.C., MR. C. F. GILL, K.C., and MR. ARTHUR GILL appeared for Prince Braganza; MR. C. MATHEWS for Chandler; and MR. HUTTON for Sherman.
NOT GUILTY .
CHANDLER and SHERMAN then PLEADED GUILTY to two counts for conspiring to procure the commission of the said acts. The Jury recommended Chandler and Sherman to mercy, and stated that they believed them to have been led away by Gerry.
GERRY** GUILTY — Two years' hard labour on each indictment, to run concurrently. CHANDLER†— Ten months' hard labour. SHERMAN— Eight months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
JOHN SMITH (102 L.) On July 15th, at 9.45 p.m., I was on point duty in Lollard Street, Lambeth—the two prisoners were walking towards me and Moore made a running kick at me—he kicked me in the privates, knocking me down—as I was getting up Lutman struck me with his fist on the right side of my jaw—I got hold of Moore—there was a struggle and we both fell—Moore got on top of me and punched me with his knees in the chest—he then got his head between my legs and got my testicles in his teeth—I drew my truncheon and struck him twice on his head—Lutman then made a running kick at me and kicked me on my chest—Lutman got away, and it took seven constables to take Moore to the station—whilst we were struggling there was a large hostile crowd, throwing bottles, flower-pots, and scraps of iron from the windows, and Moore was struck on the head with a flower-pot which was aimed at me.
Cross-examined by Moore. I did not meet you in the middle of the road and knock you down.
Cross-examined by Lutman. I am quite sure you kicked me.
THOMAS PAFFORD (11 L.) On July 15th, at 9.45, I heard a whistle blown, and went to Lollard Street, where I saw Smith on the ground and Moore and Lutman kicking him—I seized both prisoners, and Smith cried out that Moore was biting his testicles—I let go of Lutman, seized Moore by the throat, and he took my right thumb between his teeth and bit it to the bone in two places—with assistance we took him to the station, and on the way he said he would out the constable, and said to some persons in the crowd, "You are a fine lot of pals to plan a job and afraid to carry it out"—the crowd was very hostile, and threw bottles and flower-pots
at us—one flower-pot grazed my head and struck Moore's head—it took six besides myself to get him to the station.
Cross-examined by Moore. I did not hit you on the head with my truncheon—I punched you with my fist in the ribs.
Cross-examined by Lutman. I saw you kick Smith.
WALTER GAYWOOD . I am a van boy in the employ of the London and South-Western Railway—I heard a whistle blown and got in amongst the crowd, and saw Moore struggling with Smith—I saw Moore trying to bite the constable between the legs—I did not see Lutman—some people in the crowd were aiming jam pots—I went and obtained police assistance.
JOSEPH EARLE (393 L.) I went to Smith's assistance—I was trying to keep the crowd back—Moore shouted "Let go, boys,"and I was struck on my right hand with some flower pots, and was on the sick list over two weeks.
GEORGE WAINMAN (71 L.) I arrested Lutman at 3 a.m. on July 20th in bed in a lodging-house in Westminster Bridge Road—I told him I should charge him with assaulting the police—he said, "I am not surprised, I expected to be fetched out one night sooner or later."
Cross-examined by Lutman. I did not pass you in the street on the 18th—I never saw you until I arrested you.
EDWIN ROWE . I am Surgeon of the L Division—on July 15th, at 10.45 p.m., I was called to the police station and found Smith suffering from shock and pains in his chest, which was very tender, and a bruise developed upon his left testicle—Pafford had two wounds on his right thumb, one above and another below the knuckle, which appeared to be done by a bite,—as the two wounds were exactly above and below one another—Earle had a small wound on the back of his hand, which became very much inflamed—he was on the sick list for some time—Smith was quite unable to do his work for three weeks—the prisoner Moore had four wounds on his head, two incised and two contused—the contused wounds could have been caused by a truncheon, and the incised wounds by a jam pot.
Cross-examined by Moore. There were no teeth marks on Smith's testicles—there was a bruise.
GUILTY . Four previous convictions were proved against Moore and four against Lutman for assaults on the police. MOORE— Five years' penal servitude; LUTMAN— Three years' penal servitude. The Court awarded the boy Gaywood 40s.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
ROSE GILDER . I am parlourmaid at Mr. Tustin's, 156, Denmark Hill, S.E.—on June 26th, at 10.30 p.m., I shut up the house and billiard-room windows—the windows had been painted white outside about a fortnight before—I came down about 7 a.m. and found the billiard-room had been broken into—a number of billiard balls were missing, and a portion of the cover of the billiard table had been cut away—this (Produced) is the piece that was cut away, and it completes the cover—I also observed a thumb mark on the sash of one of the windows that had been painted—it was not there the night before, and I called the attention of the police to it when they came.
BEATRICE SHERGOLD . I am cook at the Hawthorns, Halfmoon Lane, occupied by Mr. Richardson—on June 30th, at 11 p.m., I closed the house—at 7 a.m. I found the pantry had been broken into—the dining-room sideboard had been broken open, the silver was gone, and a case containing a quantity of gold and silver medals—I saw the medals again at the police court, some were produced by a Mr. Bordelott and some by a Mr. Champion—I identified them as part of the stolen property, and some silver spoons and serviette rings—I also found on the kitchen table this piece of billiard table cover (Produced) which did not belong to us—I gave evidence in a another case against a man and a woman who were convicted of the burglary.
EDWARD CHARLES BORDELOTT . I am a watchmaker of 349, Kennington Road—on July 1st the prisoner came to my shop and brought some silver teaspoons, serviette rings, and a gold medal—he came again on the 2nd and brought eleven silver coffee spoons and five small gold medals—I produced them at the police court, where they were identified by Mr. Richardson.
CHARLES HENRY CHAMPION . I am a watchmaker of 274, Walworth Road—on July 1st the prisoner came to my shop and sold me four gold medals—I produced them at the police court in a charge of burglary against a man and woman, and they were identified as Mr. Richardson's property.
GEORGE JOHN HEATH . I am a barman at the Perseverance public-house, Vassal Road,' Brixton, on August 17th, at 11.15 p.m. I saw someone on the roof of the billiard room at the back of our house—I fetched Drewitt, and he jumped off the roof—he had a bag in his hand like this (Produced.)
GEORGE DREWITT (541 W.) I caught the prisoner when he jumped from the roof of the Perseverance—he said "All right governor I'll go quiet"—this bag (Produced) was brought to the police station—it contained a jemmy, a knife, and a screw driver—the prisoner said the knife did not belong to him, but the other tools did—I searched him, and found on him eleven keys, a piece of candle, a box of matches, a magnifying glass, and a pocket knife.
CHARLES COLLINS (Detective Sergeant.) I am employed specially in connection with finger print identifications—I have been so employed for about six years, and during that time have examined and classified
many thousands of finger prints—each pattern has its name, definition, and numerical value, and we classify them accordingly—all finger prints which are the same must ultimately find their way into the same pigeonhole, and throughout my experience I have never found two persons having identical finger prints—I have never found any variation—the pattern remains the same on each finger from birth till death—on June 28th in consequence of information. I went to 156, Denmark Hill, and took a photograph of a print on the sash of a window in the billiard room—I produce the negative, the enlargement, and some prints from the enlargement—on August 7th. I went to Brixton Prison and obtained a print of the prisoner's hand—I compared it with the impression on the window sash, and with a print of the prisoner's hand, which we had at Scotland Yard, taken on July 24th, 1901, and have no hesitation in saying that they are identical—the print on the window sash is that of the prisoner's left thumb—the points of resemblance are as follows—in the centre of the thumb there is a line going down and another, an independent line, coming up, terminating on the left side—those lines are identical in the photograph of the thumb mark on the window sash, and the photograph of the prisoner's thumb taken at Brixton Prison—the line terminating on the left in the photograph of the print on the window sash is not quite perfect, probably owing to the prisoner's thumb being dirty at that particular point—there are also identical in each photograph lines shaped like a tuning fork, with a line at the side, and another line terminating at the point of bifurcation—I have also counted the ridges from the core or delta, and they number eleven in each print—another remarkable thing in each print is a line forking oft' into two, and in my opinion it is impossible for any two persons to have any one of the peculiarities I have selected and described.
By the COURT. There is a difference between ridges and creases—we ignore the creases because they change, but the ridges or pattern never change.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The reason I placed the steel plate under the paper was to keep it smooth, whilst taking the impression—paper with a rough surface would make no difference in getting a good impression, the lines would be the same—even if you rubbed your fingers on dirt and put them on the paper they would still leave the impression of the ridges.
By the COURT. I took seven or eight impressions until I got one to suit, because the prisoner managed to blur some of them.
By the Prisoner. The lines were not so plain in some cases, because of your pressing on the paper—that is the reason I took so many impressions—no doubt the man who got in at the window was pressing on his fingers, but he forgot to smudge the impression like you did at Brixton Prison—I certainly say that if you put your hand down flat on the dock it would leave an impression which I could take—there is a scar on your thumb hardly visible to the naked eye and there is a, faint resemblance of it on the woodwork of the window.
CHARLES STEADMAN (Detective Inspector C) I have the supervision of the Finger Print Identification Office at Scotland Yard, and have had seven years' experience in the examination and classification of finger
prints—I have heard Collin's evidence, and agree with it entirely—I have no doubt whatever that the impression on the window sash and those taken by Collins of the prisoner's hand at Brixton Prison, are identical.
The prisoner in his defence said that he met a man in Newington Butts who told him he had two bags of good stuff, and asked him to sell it, which he did and that is why it was thought that he committed the burglary at Denmark Hill.
GUILTY . He then
WALTER DOBBIN . I am licencee of the Windsor Arms, Merton—at 7 p.m. on July 30th, the prisoner entered my house, and I refused to serve him in consequence of his bad character, and ordered him out—he returned at 8 p.m. a little the worse for drink—I sent for constable Stone and had him removed—he then went into the road and took off his coat—that is all I saw.
WILLIAM STONE (585 V.) On July 30th, at 8 p.m., Dobbin called me to remove the prisoner—he came outside, took off his coat, rushed at me, and stabbed me twice in my hip with this knife (Produced), saying "I will swing for a b—policeman," and as I closed with him he said, "I will kill you, you b—,"—I drew my truncheon and struck him on his shoulder and arm, and he then stabbed me again through the left side of my face with the knife—assistance came, and he was taken to the station.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You took the knife out of your coat pocket before you took your coat off, and I asked you to go away quietly—I knocked the knife out of your hand with my truncheon, and it was picked up and handed to me on the spot—I did not hit you first.
ALEC EDWARD HUDSON . I am a coal agent of 12, Haydons Road, Wimbledon—on July 30th, at 8 p.m., I saw the prisoner in the road—Stone asked him to go away—he threw off his coat and closed with the constable, striking him with his fist—I then saw a knife in his hand—I blew a whistle and assistance came—I heard the prisoner say he would swing for a policeman—I saw the constable's face bleeding.
Cross-examined. I was about four or five yards away, and saw the whole occurrence.
ERNEST WILLIAM ADCOCK . I am a milk carrier of 52, Haythorpe Road, Balham—on July 30th, about 8 p.m., I was in the Windsor Arms—I heard a remark and went to the door and saw the prisoner and the constable in the roadway, struggling—I secured the prisoner from behind—the constable's face was smothered in blood.
FREDERICK SQUIRE (182 V.) On July 30th, about 8.30 p.m., from information received, I went to the Grove Hotel, Merton, outside of which I saw the prisoner struggling with Stone and two others—I said to the
prisoner, "Come on Jack come along quietly"—he said, "All right, I will go for you"—on the way to the station he said, "I am very sorry I thought it was Short; I will swing for that b—yet: there are two in Wimbledon I will do for"—Stone's uniform and face were covered with blood.
REGINALD AUGUSTUS LOUDER HILL . I am surgeon to the V Division of Police—Stone was brought to my house on July 30th, suffering from a wound in the left side of his face about 1 1/4 inch long, extending right through into his mouth—he also had a punctured wound on his hip about 1/2 inch deep—if it had been a little further to the front it would have been very dangerous.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have complained at the police station three times of being knocked about by the police. I have only once been here in eighteen months; I came here for summonses against two policemen who knocked me about last Sunday week. I have got one of the sticks which was broken over my back; the policemen begged my pardon. I was laid up for three weeks and overlooked it."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that the police were always getting him turned out of his lodgings and knocking him about.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding; twenty-six convictions of being drunk and disorderly and assaulting the police were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. RODERICK, Prosecuted.
THOMAS BEAL . I am a gymnastic instructor of 20 Richmond Road. Earl's Court—I have been to the war, and am a pensioned sergeant—on August 22nd, at 9 p.m. I saw some friends off at Waterloo Station—I walked down Waterloo Road into the Borough Road, and called in a public house—while I was in there the prisoner came in with two other men—they followed me out, and when passing under an archway the prisoner butted me in the back, and the two other men searched me—I held the prisoner and called for the police—the two others ran away—it was 10.15 p-m.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was not with three other men—you came into the public house while I was having my drink—one of the other men asked me to stand him a drink, and I gave him a penny—when I left you followed me—you did not take anything personally, but you butted me in the back—the man I stood the drink to was one of the men that robbed me.
duty in the Southwark Bridge Road, when I heard shouts of "Police"—I turned the corner into the Borough Road where I saw prosecutor and the prisoner—I said, "What's up?"—the prosecutor said, "Him and his mates have taken my purse and money"—the prisoner then walked away—I caught him and took him to the station—when the charge was read to him he said nothing—I searched him and found 3 1/2 d. in bronze.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not charge you individually with putting your hand into his pocket—at the police court he said first that he had lost £2 17s.—he was quite sober.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, denied assaulting the prosecutor.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on March 12th, 1900, in the name of William Bray. Six other convictions were proved against him, including three terms of penal servitude. Five years' penal servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 20TH, 1902.