CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FOURTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 9TH, 1903.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER.
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OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, February 9th, 1903, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. SIR MARCUS SAMUEL , Knt., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir ROBERT SAMUEL WRIGHT , one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., M.A., LL.D., F.S.A. and Sir WALTER WILKIN , K.C.M.G., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR , Knt., THOMAS VEZEY STRONG , Esq., DAVID BURNETT , Esq., and WILLIAM CHARLES SIMMONS , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT 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
SAMUEL, MAYOR. FOURTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT, Monday, February 9th; and
NEW COURT, Tuesday, February 10th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
198. ROBERT HENRY CUMMING otherwise HUGH MORDUANT (26) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a trunk and other articles, the property of Hanway Cumming, having been convicted at this Court on November 18th, 1901, as Hugh Morduant. Twelve months' hard labour. —
(199) THOMAS WRIGHT (38) , to robbery on Frederick Merchant, and stealing a watch and chain, having been convicted of being found by night with house-breaking implements in his possession on November 20th, 1900. Four other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(200) HENRY HERBERT HUTCHINGS (30) . to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, two post letters containing three postal orders for 10s. each, one for 7s. 6d., and one for 4s., the property of the Postmaster-General. Nine months in the second division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(201) EDWARD THOMPSON (28) , to robbery on Abraham Abrahams and stealing a watch and pendant, having been convicted of felony at this Court on October 25th, 1897, as Henry Smith. Ten other convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(202) THOMAS BIGNALL (34) , to receiving a ring and a necklet, the property of Charles Farley, well knowing them to have been stolen. Three years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
203. EUGENE BELLANGER (28) and LOUIS FREDERICK BODIER (32) . Robbery with violence on Martha Mercier, and stealing from her person a purse, two notes on the Bank of France for 100 francs each, and 5s. 6d., her money.
MR. HARDY Prosecuted, MR. JENKINS Defended Bodier; and the evidence was interpreted.
January 8th I was in Tottenham Street about 5 p.m.—I went into Peltier's French circulating library to change some money—I do not know if anyone came into the shop while I was there—when I went into Tottenham Street again, Bellanger came up and took my purse—he ran away and I pursued him—at the corner of the street I was pushed, I think by Bodier but I am not sure—when we got to Charles Street, Bodier saw that I was overtaking Bellanger and he tripped me up—I fell, and when I got up a policeman was holding Bellanger—Bodier said that the thief had been arrested, and I then recognised him as the man who had tripped me—he was then arrested—I lost sight of him for about three minutes after he tripped me—when I saw him again we were in Charlotte Place—I went to the station with them—at the station Bellanger said that if I got him locked up my money would be lost, and "If you set me free I will return you the money"—he told me the purse was in good hands—I did not hear what the prisoners said in answer to the charge—there was a detective there who could speak French.
Cross-examined by Bellanger. You squeezed my hand to take the money from it.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I do not know if Bodier was in the shop when I was there—I will not swear that he is the man who pushed me or tripped me—when Bellanger ran away I called out "Au voleur," which means "stop thief"—I did not see Bodier running after Bellanger after I had called' out an voleur—when I was running after Bellanger a few people were running, but not many.
Re-examined. I had 350 francs in my purse in French bank-notes, 20 francs in gold, and 5s. 6d. and a few coppers in English money.
CORNELIUS SEXTON (Police Inspector.) On January 8th, about 5.45 p.m I was in Charlotte Street with Sergeant McIntyre in plain clothes—I heard cries of "Stop thief" in French, which I know—I saw Bellanger running in the direction of Percy Street—I ran after him across Gooch Street, where I fell beneath a cab—I got up and followed him into Charlotte Passage, where he was knocked down by a constable; he said, "Jen'airien" which means "I have got nothing." Bodier then rushed up followed by the prosecutrix—she said in French three times, "C'est lui" which is "That is he"—in the prisoner's hearing a French boy who was there said that it was the small prisoner (Bellanger) who stole the prosecutrix's purse, and that the other had knocked her down—the prisoners made no answer, and I directed the constable to take Bellanger to the station, while I took Bodier—I only remained a short time at the station.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. The French boy gave evidence at the police court—he is not here, he was got out of the country by the prisoner's associates—this quarter of London is a French one—I was about 15 or 17 yards from the prosecutrix when I heard the cry of "Stop thief"—I did not see Bodier until I got up to Bellanger—Bodier was running behind Bellanger—Bodier came up, although he had seen Bellanger collared by the constable—it was a narrow passage—not more than six people were running after Bellanger when I began to run, but there must have been about twenty there when I was talking to him—there were
some French people among them—the boy was the only one who was speaking French.
Cross-examined by Bellanger. Both of you were very violent at the station.
PETER MCINTYRE (Police Sergeant.) I was with Sexton on January 8th in Charlotte Street about 3.45—I heard a cry of "Auvoleur"—I saw several people running, Bellanger was one of them—I saw him stopped by a constable—Bodier then came up, followed by the prosecutrix, who was covered with blood—I said to her in French, "We are police officers, do not be afraid, what is the matter"—she said, "The big one," pointing to Bodier, "took my purse and the little one knocked me down"—they were taken to the station and Bellanger said to the prosecutrix, "The money is in good hands, don't have me arrested and I will see if I can get it back for you"—they were charged—Bellanger said, "I heard a cry of 'Au voleur'; I followed the man and fell in the mud as you see, then the policeman arrested me"—Bodier said, "I heard a cry of 'Au voleur,' I followed the man, when I came up the policeman arrested me.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. Although Bodier saw Bellanger arrested he came up to the same spot.
By the COURT. The French boy said in the prisoner's presence, "Je l' ai vu"—I said, "What have you seen"—he said, "I have seen the little one take the purse and the woman knocked in the road "'—I took him to the station and he appeared next day at the police court and gave his evidence—he is now in Brussels.
By MR. JENKINS. Thirty or forty people were present when I was talking to the prisoner in the road—only the boy was talking French—Bodier may not have heard what he said.
DAVID MAY (268 D.) I was near Charlotte Street on January 8th—I heard a cry—I do not speak French—I saw the two prisoners running into Charlotte Place and towards me—Bellanger was about 12 yards in front of Bodier—nobody else was running in sight then—I ran out of the doorway where I was hiding and threw Bellanger to the ground—Bodier was close by then—he did not attempt to arrest Bellanger—they were taken to the police station—I heard them charged, they said something in French in answer to it.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. When I had thrown Bellanger to the ground I left him for a minute and went for Bodier, who was trying to run past me—I had them both in custody when the other officers came up.
JOHN MONK (Police-Inspector.) I saw the prisoners at the station—Bellanger gave his address as 5, South Crescent, and Bodier at 33, Fitzroy Street—Bodier was not known there—I went to Bellangers address and searched his box—I found a six-chambered revolver in it and two letters.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I went to Bodier's address at 35, Fitzroy Square—I saw a Mrs. Kingston there, who said that Bodier did not live there—I went in and insisted that he did—she insisted that he did not.
Bellanger, in his defence on oath, said that he saw the lady holding a
purse in her hand; that he lost his head and was tempted to take the purse and ran away with it; and that he was quite alone.
Bodier, in his defence on oath, said that he saw the woman running and crying, "Stop thief"; that several people were running; and he ran behind them till they got up to a policeman, and then he was arrested; and that he did not know Bellanger.
GUILTY . Eight previous convictions were proved against Bellanger and eleven against Bodier, both in Paris. Seven years' penal servitude each.
204. WILLIAM PARKER OWEN (36) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering two share transfers in the capital stock of the Indian Glenrock Wynaad Company, Limited, with intent to defraud ; also to six other indictments for embezzling £3,000 the moneys of the said company; also to two other indictments for embezzling £650 the moneys of the Premier Sunrise New Zealand Gold Mining Company, Limited, his masters. He received a good character. Eighteen months' hard labour—And
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 9th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common-Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
ANNIE MILLER . I am the wife of Herbert Miller, a newsagent and tobacconist of Union Street, Marylebone—on January 7th, about 7 p.m., a woman came in with a soldier and bought some cigarettes, price 1d.—she gave me a shilling, which I broke; she then gave me a florin; I did not like the look of it and gave it back to her, and she gave me a penny—she took the two broken pieces of the shilling with her—I spoke to my husband.
HERBERT MILLER . I am the husband of the last witness—she spoke to me on January 7th when I was outside the shop, and pointed out a woman, who went down Mortimer Street and met the prisoner and gave him some money—she met a soldier and they all went on together; the woman went into a baker's shop, 65, Cleveland Street—I waited outside and when she came out I went in, and a shilling was tested in my presence and found to be bad—I went out and followed the woman, and saw her pass more money—they all went to Great Portland Street and into a public-house—when the woman came out I went in, and afterwards followed her and saw her pass something to the prisoner—I then saw a policeman, and he arrested the prisoner—the woman walked off and threw something down an area grating of a barber's shop—I pointed out the place to Smith the constable—I followed the woman to London Road and lost sight of her—I am sure the prisoner is the same man, I kept him under observation three-quarters of an hour.
Newerdorf, a baker—on January 7th, about 7 p.m., a woman came in for penny cake and gave me 1s.: I gave her 11d. change, and put it in the till—when she left, Miller came in and said something; I went to the till took out the same coin and bent it—these are the pieces (Produced.)
ALFRED TAYLOR (295 D.) On January 7th. about 7.45, Mr. Miller spoke to me, and I saw the prisoner and a soldier and a tall, dark woman—I had seen them in company before—I followed them to Portland Road and arrested the prisoner—I told him it was on suspicion of being concerned with two others in passing bad money—he said he knew nothing about it—I searched him at once, and found 17s. in silver and 1s. 7 1/2 d. in bronze: there was one half-crown, also two packets of matches, two packets of tea, marked 2d. unopened, and about an ounce of tobacco, part of which was in a box—I asked him where he lived—he said, "I refuse to tell you"—he was charged before the inspector, but made no answer.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have not said that you were walking with the woman when I arrested you—there was not another constable on the other side of the road who I could have called—the woman was thirty yards from me.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I know nothing about the woman or the soldier."
Prisoner's defence. There was no woman and no soldier. I was never in Cleveland Street or Union Street. They brought forward this shilling, but they allowed the woman to walk away. I never spoke to any woman. I had nothing but good money on me.
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
207. FREDERICK WILSON (27), PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for forging and uttering orders for the delivery of grocery with intent to defraud, and to a conviction at Clerkenwell on December 4th, 1900. Four other convictions were proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour. —
(208) WILLIAM BARRETT (65) , to three indictments for fraudulently adding the figures 16s. to three cheques with intent to defraud; also to unlawfully making a false entry in a wages book of his employers. Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted and Mr. Burney Defended.
CHARLES DIX . I am a fishmonger of 19, College Street, Putney—on December 27th I drove with a man named Lansdell to Smithfield Market—I drove a bay mare in a costermonger's barrow—the harness was brass mounted—I left it with Wilson, who minds carts outside the market, at 12 in the day—we were in the market an hour and a half—I then sent Lansdell
out; he came back and told me something and I went out and could not find the barrow—I identified the mare and harness at the station a few days after Christmas, and the barrow at Shepherd's Walk—they are worth £45 or £30.
JOHN WILSON . I am a cart minder—on December 27th Dicks left a pony and barrow with me—he was with Mr. Lansdell—somebody, not the prisoner, came and spoke to me and took the barrow and horse away—I have not seen the man since.
CHARLES LANSDELL . I am a fishmonger of 127. Park Road, Wandsworth—I accompanied Mr. Dix to Smithfield Market on December 27th—he left a horse and barrow outside with Wilson—when I went out to look for them they were gone—I was driving in York Road. Battersea, on Saturday, at 9.30 and saw the prisoner driving Mr. Dix's pony in a truck—another man was with him and another horse was tied behind with a halter—I spoke to an officer who stopped the prisoner and took him in custody—there was a sack in the cart containing harness, and another sack containing these irons (Jemmies)—I did not see what became of the other man.
WILLIAM ROBERTS (731 W.) On January 3rd, about 9.15, Lansdell spoke to me, and in consequence of what he said I stopped the prisoner who was driving a bay mare with harness on, in a cart—another man was in the cart, and a horse was tied to the toil of the cart—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for being in unlawful possession of the horse and cart—lie said, "All right, I will come with you"—on the way to the station he said, "I bought it"—the other man went away.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor identified the mare which was in the cart—a witness was called for the defence in reference to the gelding behind—when the prisoner said, "I will go with you," the other man slipped down behind and ran away.
CHARLES GOGGINS (Detective Officer W.) I was in Clapham Police Station on January 13th when the prisoner was brought in—there was a black wooden cart there, newly painted, bearing no name, and a brown mare in the shafts, and in the cart some black leather harness, brass mounted, and a sack containing these two jemmies—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for having the things in his possession; he said, "I do not know who it belongs to; a man asked me to put it in my cart as his cart was broken down. I have not seen him before or since, neither do I know who he is"—I said, "Have you any stables?"—he said, "I decline to tell you where my stables are, as I do not wish to bring anyone else into it"—he said to the Sergeant, "I was at Wimbledon at six o'clock this morning selling grapes. I cannot tell you anybody's name who I sold them to"—he was placed in the cells and I searched him and found a cab file on him.
Cross-examined. He has told the police since from whom he bought the cart—there was no charge in reference to the cart or the gelding—I thoroughly examined the cart but found no trace of grapes—the harness was on the pony.
FRANK HALLAM (City Detective Sergeant.) On January 3rd, about 1.30 p.m., I went with Beckley to Clapham Police Station and saw the prisoner detained there—I said, "I have seen a horse and harness which were
stolen on December 22nd, and were found in your possession"—he said, "I bought the horse and harness yesterday outside the White Horse public-house, Caledonian Market. I gave £14 for the Jot I don't know the man from whom I bought it: I had never seen him before. This morning I went out and sold them at Wimbledon, and as I was coming back I gave the other man a lift as his cart was broken down and he tied his horse to the back of my cart and put his harness in; I do not know the man, I have never seen him before. I do not know where it was that the cart broke down"—I asked him the address of his stables; he said, "I refuse to say, the cart I was driving is my property, I have had it some years."
Cross-examined. I am not quite satisfied that the cart was his own—a witness came to identify it, but some additions had been made to it—that witness was subpœnaed by the police.
JAMES HEALEY (3 G.) On January 5th I saw a barrow standing unattended in Gordon Street, Islington—it contained a sack and some brass-mounted pony harness—I took it to the station, and Dix identified it.
GEORGE SAMUEL JACKSON . I am a fishmonger of 100, Hart Street, Bethnal Green—on January 5th I received a telegram, went to the City Road Police Station, and saw a barrow which I had sold him, and which he identified.
GUILTY on the second count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Hereford on October 16th, 1890. Three other convictions were proved against him, and the police stated that he was connected with a gang of horse stealers. Five years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, February 10th, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Wright.
The Grand Jury having thrown out the Bill, Mr. MUIR, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence on the Inquisition.
NOT GUILTY .
211. WILLIAM ELLINGTON was again indicted for, that he, having the care and custody of Francis William Ellington, did neglect him in a manner likely to cause him unnecessary suffering and injury to his health.
MR. MUIR and MR. BIRON Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES Defended.
JOHN ELLINGTON . I am sixteen years old, and am the prisoner's eldest son—I now live at 23, Compton Street, Tottenham—up to my mother's death, on January 17th, I lived with my parents at 2, Princes Street, Tottenham—I have been at work for about four years—we occupied a front and back room at Princes Street—I slept in the front room with my brothers Thomas and Joseph, the latter is six years old, I think; also with my sisters Rose and Emily—Rose was the youngest child—there was a large bed and a small cot in the room—I slept in the cot, and the other children in the bed—my father and mother occupied the back room—about Christmas time I noticed my mother was very dirty and sat by the side of the fire and would do nothing—she got worse and would sit on the side of
the bed and try to walk into the back room—she could not walk without assistance—the last time she could not walk without assistance was about a week after Christmas—she was able to walk about again with assistance as she got a bit better—the room where we slept was very dirty—while my mother was ill nobody came in to clean the room or the children.
Cross-examined. My father is a hard-working man—he went out to work every morning—the day before my mother died my father got her some tea and breakfast before he went to work—he was away at work from 6 a.m. till 8 or 9 p.m. every day—we always had plenty to eat and drink in the house—my father bought clothes for the children—I do not know if he had any difficulty in getting the house cleaned just before my mother died—I remember his complaining to her about the state of the room—she said she was not going to do any more work, she had done her share—while she was ill my father used to fetch things for her and nurse her while he was at home.
Cross-examined. I do not remember if the prisoner once asked if he should fetch a doctor.
EMILY SAMME . I am the wife of William Samme—the prisoner is my brother—his son John will be sixteen next May; Francis William was fourteen last October; Joseph nine last October I think; Emily will be thirteen next November, and Rosie six next March.
WILLIAM JAMES ANDREWS . I am an officer in the S.P.C.C.—on January 17th I received a communication from Dr. Rostante, and at 9 p.m. I went to 2, Princes Street, Tottenham—I saw the prisoner in the back kitchen on the ground floor—he was drunk—I saw his youngest daughter Rose, who was in a very dirty condition—she had only an old skirt on, but I saw some other clothing which had been brought there by Mrs. Samme—in the back room on the first floor I saw Francis William Ellington, aged fourteen, and Joseph—they were both filthily dirty, and nearly black—Francis William had scabs all over his scalp, and he was wearing only an adult's overcoat—Joseph was wearing an old waistcoat and a pair of knickers—I saw in the room a small piece of bread and a few raw potatoes—the room was filthily dirty—in the front room the mattresses were filthily dirty, and in the centre of the room there was a palliasse filthily dirty and rotten—in a corner of the room I saw a cot on which were two mattresses filthily dirty—they were rotten and there was coal dust and other things between them—all over the room there were numerous pieces of rags and old garments—the room presented the appearance of not having been cleaned or swept for a long time—next morning I went again with Dr. Rostante and saw the three children again and also Emily—she was fairly clean and in fairly good condition—I called the prisoner's attention to the condition of the children and his home—he said, "I earn on an average 36s. a week; my son Frederick earned about 8s. last week and the week before that he only worked about four days; I used to sub on my friends; I gave my wife
about 1s. 6d. a day, and on Saturdays I gave her 14s., whilst I paid the rent, 4s. 6d."
Cross-examined. Emily is twelve years old—Francis William is fourteen—he is not very intelligent—he does not go to work—he seems rather dull—he has not been to school for a long time I believe—Joseph is eight years old—I believe he goes to school—I do not know that any complaints have been made by the school about his condition—the prisoner was perfectly sober on the day after his wife's death.
ANDREW ROSTANTE . I am a registered medical practitioner, and practice at Tottenham—I was called in to see the prisoner's wife on January 17th—I saw two very dirty-looking and badly-clad children—I do not know their names—one was about fourteen—I did not examine them—I told the Society's officer of the state of the children, and especially the room, which was extremely dirty and offensive in smell—on the 18th I examined the children—Francis William, who did not appear to be fourteen, was in an extremely filthy condition—his head was covered with lice and a disease we call impetigo, which is brought on by lice—John and Emily were fairly clean, but Rose was in practically the same condition as Francis William—I should say that the state of their heads was caused by lice, vermin, and the filthy state of their bed, which was covered with excrement: that would be likely to cause unnecessary suffering and injury to their health—I made a post mortem on their mother—I do not think she was fit to do any house-hold duties for three months before her death.
Cross-examined. The uncleanliness of the children was not due to the syphilitic ulcers which their mother was suffering from—their condition had nothing to do with syphilis—syphilis affects the skin—these children would not be more likely to suffer from impetigo than children coming from a healthy mother—it is very common in dirty children—they were in a worse condition than those we generally see—I have not examined the prisoner—Francis William's head had been recently washed—I do not know if that was done by the prisoner—I saw Rose at a relative's house.
JOHN MILLER . I am foreman to Messrs. Bright and Co., lamp manufacturers, of 37. Brutton Street—the prisoner has been employed there for the last thirty-five years—he earns 31s. a week, and full time 35s.—he is an industrious man.
Cross-examined. We have no complaint to make of him.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LILLEY Prosecuted.
GEORGE HARROLD . I am master of the City of London Union Casual Ward—I reside there—on January 22nd, the prisoner applied to be admitted—applications have to be made to me for accommodation, of which there are two sorts, dormatories and cells—the men sleep alone in the cells—I gave the prisoner a ticket for a cell, which he refused—I said, "If you refuse to accept the accommodation I offer you, there is only one thing for
you to do, that is for you to go out again," and I called the porter to let him out—the porter was not in the lodge, and I went to call him—I went back into the lodge with him—the porter went by the prisoner to open the door, and I saw the prisoner holding something towards me, but there is a shade to my lamp, and I could not distinguish what it was—the porter said, "Look out, master, he has got a revolver"—he crossed to the prisoner, there was a struggle—I called for assistance, and went out to fetch the police—when the porter caught hold of him he said, "Oh, I don't mean it for you, it is meant for that b----over there,"' meaning me—I was the only other officer there at the time.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can swear that you pointed the revolver at me.
By the COURT. I do not know where he had his finger.
By the JURY. When I offered him the cell ticket, he said, "I got fourteen days a little while ago through you giving me a cell ticket"—he had refused to do his work, and broke a window.
Re-examined. I charged him for that, and he got the fourteen days.
LEONARD SANGUIN . I am porter at the City of London Ward, Shoe Lane—on January 22nd. the prisoner applied for admission—I admitted him and told him to apply at the master's office—I then went out of the lodge—I was fetched back by the master, in order to put the prisoner out—I went into the lodge with the master and then went to open the door—I turned round and then shouted out, "Look out, master, he has got a revolver"—the prisoner was standing with a revolver in his left hand—I made a rush at him, and grasped his arm, he had his finger on the trigger—I twisted him round, and put him into the corner, holding his arm and the revolver—he said he was sorry it did not go off, and that he did not mean it for me as I was a gentleman—I was 2 or 2 1/2 yards away from him when I saw his arm go up.
Cross-examined. You were not standing at my back when I turned round, you were standing by my side.
WILLIAM HENRY HANCHETT (334 City.) On January 22nd, I was on duty in Fetter Lane—about 5.30 p.m., the prosecutor called me—I went into the casual ward where I saw the prisoner being held by the porter and the stoker—I saw this revolver given to another constable—the prisoner said to the prosecutor, "It is a lucky thing for you it did not go off"—on the way to the station he said, "I had this in store for him"—I saw the revolver examined, it was loaded with cartridges, this box of 43 cartridges was found on the prisoner, and six were in the revolver.
SAMUEL HOCKLEY (241 City.) On January 22nd. I was called with Hanchett—I took the revolver, but I do not know who from—there was no struggle—I searched the prisoner, there was a box of cartridges, a tobacco pouch, and a pocket book on him, but no money.
WILLIAM OLIVER . I am a labourer out of work, and with no fixed address—on January 22nd, I applied for admittance to the City of London Union as a casual—I was admitted about 5.10 p.m.—I saw the prisoner about 5.20, and also the master—I saw the prisoner go towards the master's office, the master asked him a question which I could not hear,
and almost immediately the master handed him a ticket—the prisoner said, "I don't want this b----ticket, it is a cell, I got fourteen days before this, which you know"—the master went away for a minute—I said to my mate, "He has got a shooter"—the prisoner put it up to the master's face, he then pulled it down and fumbled with it; before he had time to properly raise it again the porter rushed in and caught him by his right hand—the prisoner said, "Be careful, you will have it go off, I did not want to shoot you, you are a gentleman"—then the police came in, and the revolver was seized away from the prisoner—I cannot swear if he had his finger on the trigger or not.
WALTER BENNETT . I am a painter's labourer. I saw the revolver in the prisoner's hand, and pointing towards the master's face—I cannot say if his finger was on the trigger or not—I saw him taken away by the police—he said to the master, "I meant doing for you, whatever I got done to"
FREDERICK THOMAS BARTLETT . I am salesman to Mrs. Dooley, 161, Whitechapel Road; on January 22nd, about mid day I sold this revolver to the prisoner—it has got our stock mark upon it, it was clean then, but slightly faulty; when you got the barrel half round you could not pull the trigger back, but if you got it right under the firing point it was all right—ot like this when I sold it, it has been tampered with since—when it is shot off it won't go off again unless you put the spring back again.
ALFRED WILLIAM BROWN . I am salesman to Arthur Brown, general dealer of 132, Whitechapel Road—on January 22nd, a man came in to buy some cartridges—I rather fancy it was the prisoner, but I cannot swear to it.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that while he was being held in the corner he took the revolver out of his pocket, but that he had not pointed it at anybody, and had not got it in his hand till then.
GUILTY on the second count. Twelve months' hard labour.
213. FERDINAND CZILINSKY the elder (67) , Feloniously wounding George Hyde with intent to murder him. Other Counts with intent to do him grevious bodily harm, to disable him, or to resist his lawful apprehension.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. DUNCAN Defended.
GEORGE HYDE (373 Y.) On December 31st, I received from Constable Lambert four warrants for the prisoner's arrest for the non-payment of rates—I had had them in October and November, and the early part of December—I tried to execute them—I kept observation on the house—when anybody went there the door was not opened, but everything was handed in through a little pigeon-hole—on December 31st, I went to his house in Tiverton Road, with Constables White, Lambert, and Poole—Lambert was in uniform, the rest of us were in plain clothes—I remained' on the door step, and about 7.15 some one opened the trap door, looked out, and said, "It is all right," the bolt was drawn, the catch was pulled back, and the prisoner's son opened the door—I entered the passage and said, "I am a police officer"—the prisoner was upstairs, but his son said, "Out you go," and struck me a heavy blow in the face and I fell down—I then went upstairs followed by Lambert, who had got a lantern—when we got to the front room on the first floor, I knocked at the
door; the prisoner shouted, "Who is there?"—I said, "Police officers I have four warrants for your arrest for non-payment of rates"—he said, "All right, come in"—I pushed the door, but it would only open about six inches—the room was in total darkness—as soon as the door was opened the prisoner thrust this rapier (Produced) through the door—it penetrated my coat in two places, but did not wound me—I called out, "You had better be quiet and come out"—he said, "All right, come in"—he again thrust the sword at me, cutting my thumb—it is very sharp—I again asked him to be quiet, and he again said, "Come in"—I thrust the door open and went in, the prisoner was in the corner—I told him I should arrest him—he said, "If you had not been so quick I should have shot you instead of stabbing you"—he had made three or four thrusts through the door before I was able to catch hold of the sword, which I did with my left hand, it was my right hand that was cut—other officers assisted me in taking him to the station—he was very violent, and had to be nearly arrived.
Cross-examined. I did not burst the front door open, I walked in; the prisoner's sons opened the door themselves, and then they tried to put me out—when I was knocked down they tried to drag me into the street—g in the passage fell down, but I cannot say what it was, the place was in darkness—two heavy planks did not knock me down—I did not see the rapier upstairs till it went through my coat—I do not know if the prisoner is one of the most expert ebony carvers in London, or if this rapier was sent to him to have a new handle fitted—I think he kept it ready to receive us—I was very roughly handled downstairs—I was examined at the prisoner's request—I did not knock him about upstairs—I do not know if he is unpopular at Tufnell Park—I had never seen him before—I have heard he is not very popular—he walked to the station quietly, but we had to carry him downstairs—on the way to the station I did not say to him, "You took a rise out of us the other day, but we have got the best of you to-day"—I did not hear that remark made to him by one of the other policemen—I did not tell the prisoner I would let him go if he paid his rates—he would have been taken to the station if he had paid them—no sharp tools fell on my hand and cut it.
Re-examined. The wound was caused by the point of the sword.
JAMES LAMBERT (24 Y. R.) On December 31st I was with Hyde when he went to execute the warrant for the prisoner's arrest—I was in uniform—I saw Hyde go into the house, and then I heard a scuffle—I went in and found Hyde lying on the floor in the passage—he and I went upstairs and knocked at a door—the prisoner called out, "Who is there?"—Hyde replied, "Police officers. I have four warrants for your arrest for nonpayment of rates"—the prisoner said, "Come in"—the door was opened a little bit, and the prisoner thrust a long sword through the opening two or three times—the door was forced open, and the prisoner said, "I could not see you for the light of your lamp; if you had not been so quick I would have shot you"—he was arrested and taken downstairs—Hyde took the sword away from him.
Cross-examined. I gave the warrants to Hyde—we went to the house
prepared for a fray—the other policemen were close by—I did not see Hyde put his foot into the doorway and push the door open—I did not hear him call out "Come on, I am in"—I was only three yards away—White went in before I did—sufficient noise was made downstairs for anyone on the first floor to hear—I heard Hyde say he was a police officer—when we went upstairs the lantern was turned on to the opening of the door, so that Hyde could have seen anything that came out—I did not notice a rack upstairs with some tools in it—some violence took place when we arrested the prisoner—he was not knocked about—we required assistance to arrest him, as Hyde was injured—this room was the prisoner's workshop—I saw some tools there—I saw Hyde take hold of the sword with his left hand—it did not cut his hand, because he caught hold of the hilt.
JONATHAN THOMAS (Inspector Y.) I was at Upper Holloway police station on December 31st when the prisoner was brought in—I examined Hyde's clothing—the prisoner said, "Yes, I stabbed him, I could not get my revolver, he was too quick; I would shoot any policeman or Borough Councilman, it is the only way I can air my grievances; I will say the same before a Magistrate."
PATRICK WHITE RATTRAY . I am Divisional Surgeon at Upper Holloway police station—on December 31st I examined Hyde—he had a cut on the back of his right thumb; it could have been caused by the point of this rapier—very considerable force would be required to pierce the constable's clothing.
Cross-examined. The cut on his thumb was in the form of a slash—the point of this rapier is capable of making a slash, if it was thrust forwards—the breadth of the point is infinitesimal—I do not know how a point like this can make a slash, but it can do it—it is not more probable that the wound was caused by the falling of a sharp chisel, but it is possible.
JAMES JOHN CHISNELL . I am a rate collector for the Borough Council of Islington—these four warrants were issued and signed by a Magistrate—they are dated February 15th, 1902, February 3rd, August 5th, and November 4th—they were for the non-payment of the ordinary house rates—I have known the prisoner for many years—I have had many disputes with him with regard to rates.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's son said that his father could not get justice, and he brought out a pistol and said he would shoot someone and then see if he could get justice—rates can be collected without going before a County Court.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had just put out his gas when he heard some wood which was in his passage fall; that he did not know the police were in the house, because in France, which was his own country, when the police came to the door they had to say, "In the name of the Republic open the door," and he thought it was the same here; that when he heard the noise he was frightened, and tried to barricade the door, but had not time, so took the rapier from his rack, so that anybody who came in could see it and not maltreat him; that Hyde pushed him into the corner, and he got his head cut by a baton: that Hyde must have fallen on the tools
on the bench and cut his thumb; that he did not intend to kill anybody; and that he did not resist his arrest.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRY ROXON . I am a shop-fitter, of 17, Victoria Road, Holloway—on December 31st I was engaged by the prisoner to do some work for him at his house—I was going to leave the house about 7 p.m.—it was dark, and there was no light in the passage—when the constable came in some match-boarding and some pear wood, which was standing in the passage, fell—I was not present when the prisoner came downstairs with the constable, as I had been pushed into the kitchen with the prisoner's sons—the prisoner did not say in the kitchen that he would have shot them all—on the way to the station one of the policemen said, "You have had a good many larks with us, now we have a lark with you on New Year's Eve, how do you like it?"—I did not see the prisoner use any violence towards the police.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Discharged on his own recognisances.
214. FERDINAND CZILINSKY. the elder , was again indicted with FERDINAND CZILINSKY, the younger , and EMILE LORENZ CZILINSKY with unlawfully assaulting George Hyde, a police officer, in the execution of his duty.
MR. GILL for the Prosecution offered no evidence against Ferdinand Czilinsky the elder.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MARTIN O'CONNOR defended Emile.
GEORGE HYDE . About 7.15 p.m. on December 31st I went with three other officers to 6, Tiverton Road, with some warrants for the arrest of the prisoners' father—I stood on the door-step—I was in plain clothes—a little wicket in the panel of the door was opened by Emile, and someone said, "It is all right, no one is about"—the door was opened—I walked in and said, "I am a police officer, and have four warrants for your father's arrest"—Emile said, "Out you go," and knocked me down in the passage—Ferdinand kicked me while I was on the ground—he caught me by my sleeves and tried to drag me to the door—I shouted for assistance—the other officers came in, and the prisoners ran into the kitchen—I was kicked on the shoulder-bone—I was examined by the police surgeon.
Cross-examined. Three other constables were watching the house—they were three or four yards away—the passage was quite dark—I fell down sideways towards the staircase—I could not arrest Emile when he struck me on account of his father's violence—before we went upstairs I told the prisoners they would both be arrested for assaulting me in the execution of my duty—I left them in charge of two other officers and proceeded upstairs and the old man was brought down—we could not arrest the prisoners on account of their father's violence, and when we got the old man into the street the sons bolted the door so that we could not get in again—next morning the old man was brought before the Magistrate who said that the two sons were to be arrested—that was not the first time we thought of arresting them—I was struggling with the prisoners in the passage for perhaps five minutes—the gate was closed, and
they had to get over it—I told the doctor that evening that I had been kicked about the shoulder and body—I said I did not think I was seriously injured—he dressed my thumb—at the first hearing before the Magistrate the doctor said, "My attention was not called to any bruises."
Re-examined. There were not enough constables there to take the old man out of the house and arrest the other prisoners as well—at first I did not show the doctor the bruises, but later they came out.
JAMES LAMBERT (24 Y. R.) I was with Hyde when he went to Tiverton Road to execute the warrants against the prisoners' father—I saw the door opened—I walked in—I heard Hyde say he was a police officer, and then there was a scuffle—I saw the prisoners and an old workman in the passage—when I heard the scuffle I rushed into the passage and found Hyde lying on the floor and being dragged to the door by the prisoners—Ferdinand kicked him on the shoulder once—I assisted to pull the prisoners off him, and they went into the back kitchen—I was in uniform.
Cross-examined. I did not arrest the prisoners then because I went upstairs after the older man, and when we went out with the old man the door was closed—it was our intention to get the old man out first and then arrest the prisoners—the Magistrate was not the first to suggest that the prisoners should be arrested, we were going to apply for a warrant against them, but they attended the Court, and the Magistrate ordered them to be arrested—Emile lived in Debenham Road, and Ferdinand lived with his father—I went into the house about a minute after Hyde; it was not five minutes afterwards—he did not force his way in—I did not hear any cries or shouts from Hyde after he went in—I did not say at the police court that as soon as Hyde said he was a police officer the prisoners ceased to resist—I said that after I arrived in the passage they continued to drag him towards the door—I do not suggest that the prisoners assaulted me in any way—when Hyde said he was a police officer I was about three yards from him—I did not see him struck—I saw him kicked by Ferdinand on the right shoulder—I saw seven or eight planks in the passage—I did not hear them fall.
Re-examined. Hyde was kicked between the shoulders—at the police-court I said, "What made them stop was that they were overpowered."
ARTHUR WHITE (616 Y.) I was with Hyde and Lambert when they went to Tiverton Road—I saw Hyde go to the door, and heard him say, "I am a police officer and hold a warrant for Ferdinand Czilinskys arrest for non-payment of rates"—I heard someone say, "Out you go"—I went to the door—Hyde was inside the passage—Emile knocked him to the floor and then Ferdinand kicked him about the body, and dragged him towards the door—the prisoners then rushed into the kitchen—Hyde and Lambert went upstairs—the kitchen door was opened by Emile, who had a brick in his hand which I took away from him—Ferdinand took a knife from the table, and said, "I will run it through the first one that puts a hand on me"—I said, "If you use the knife I shall use the brick"—I heard a struggle upstairs and someone calling for help—I went up assistance.
Cross-examined. It was Emile who struck Hyde—there was no light
in the hall, but there was in the kitchen, which was shining into the passage—Emile was standing on one side of Hyde when he struck him—Hyde fell down backwards all in a lump towards the staircase—he was caught by the collar, but we prevented him from being dragged—I did not look on and do nothing—I was in plain clothes—I did not arrest the prisoners then because I went upstairs to assist Lambert, and when we got out into the road the door was closed behind us—I do not remember Lambert saying at the police-court, "When Hyde told them he was a police officer they ceased to resist,"
Re-examined. I think they desisted because we were too many for them.
RICHARD POOLE (14 Y. R.) I was with the last witnesses on December 31st at Czilinsky's house—I was in uniform—I saw Hyde take his stand at the doorway, which was opened by one of the prisoners—Hyde entered, and shortly afterwards he said, "I am a police officer and hold a warrant for the arrest of your father for the non-payment of rates"—one of the prisoners said, "Out you go!"—there was a struggle, and Hyde called for assistance—I entered the passage and found him lying on the floor and Emile pulling at his arm dragging him towards the front door, and Ferdinand was kicking him on his side as far as I could see—the passage was in darkness—I assisted in getting them off, and they ran into the kitchen—when Hyde and Lambert went upstairs I went into the kitchen—Emile came in with a brick—White took it from him—Ferdinand took up a knife from the table where it was lying with four others and said, "I will put this through the first of you that comes for me"—he put it down at his brother's request—I put the four knives into the drawer—I assisted in getting the old man out of the house—we did not arrest the other men then because the door was closed.
Cross-examined. Lambert went into the house first after Hyde, then White, and then myself—I did not see either of the prisoners strike Hyde in the face—he complained of having been struck when we got outside—he did not then say anything about being kicked—when the doctor was called in Hyde said he had been kicked about the body—the first suggestion that a warrant should be applied for for the prisoners' arrest was made that evening—the other constables would not have followed Hyde into the house if he had served the warrants without being assaulted, and did not want assistance—I did not hear him call out, "Come on, I am in."
PATRICK WHITE RATTRAY . I am Divisional Surgeon at Upper Holloway police station—on December 31st I examined Hyde—he had a cut on his thumb, a blow on his face, and was bleeding from a skin wound on his face—I examined his back, and found a recent bruise just over the right shoulder blade—it could have been caused by a kick—there was apparently no great violence.
Cross-examined. He did not complain of having been kicked at first, he did of having been struck in the face—I cannot say what was the cause of the injury to his nose—if he had received a severe blow on his nose it would not present the appearance half an hour afterwards of having been scratched.
Re-examined. A man's nail might have caused the scratch on the nose—there were distinct signs of a blow on his face, I think not more than one blow.
Emile, in his defence on oath, said that he was going home; that he put his hand on the catch of the door, when it was suddenly burst open, and Hyde fell against him; that he did not know he was a constable; that he emphatically denied striking him, but that there was a kind of cuddling set out, and then the other officers came in; that Hyde was in plain clothes; that he did not say he was a police officer; that he was not knocked down, but that in the commotion some wood which was against the wall fell down; that the police did not threaten to arrest him that evening; that he went out that same evening, but that he believed his friend, Mr. Roxam, closed the door when the police went out with his father; that he did not threaten any of the officers with a knife; that there were some knives on the table, and he may have put his hand on them, but he knew he was wrong, and put them down directly.
Ferdinand, in his defence on oath, said that when his brother put his hand on the latch he and Roxam were behind him; that Hyde burst the door open; that a scuffle took place, during which a lot of wood fell down on Hyde, who then commenced pummelling him in the face; that he (Ferdinand) then ran into the scullery and picked up a brick, which a constable in plain clothes took away from him; that he did not strike or kick Hyde; that he did not see his brother strike him; that no one fell down, and that there was no mention by the constables of their having been assaulted.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRY ROXAM . I am a shop fitter, and on December 31st I was working for Mr. Czilinsky—I was leaving the house about 7 p.m.—one of the prisoners followed me to let me out, when someone in plain clothes forced his way in I did not hear him call out, "I am a police officer"—I heard him say, "Come on, I am in"—we were pushed into the passage—then I saw some constables in uniform—I did not see Emile strike Hyde in the face and knock him down—the passage was dark—I heard some planks fall down—none of us kicked the policeman—we were pushed back into the kitchen—I was held by one of the policemen, and one said to me, "Are you going to pay the money, Mr. Czilinsky?"—I said, "I do not know what you are talking about"—he said, "Are you going to pay the money, I have four warrants against you?"—I said, "What are you holding me for; you come in as if it was a den of thieves, my name is Henry Roxam, and I live at 7, Victoria Road"—I went with Mr. Czilinsky to the station, but I was not allowed to go in—on the way there one of the constables said, "You had a laugh at us, and we have had a laugh at you on New Year's Eve."
Cross-examined. I cannot say very well what took place in the passage, because it was dark—if anyone was on the ground I should have fallen over him—in the kitchen one of the policemen said to Emile "I have a good mind to arrest you as well"—Emile did rather a foolish thing, he picked up a knife—I said, "Put the knife down," and the policeman took it off the table and put it in a drawer—Emile did not say, "I will put this knife into the first man that comes."
By the COURT. The old man was not in the least violent when the police were bringing him downstairs or on the way to the station.
GUILTY of wilfully obstructing the police, and of a common assault. Discharged on their own recognisances.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, February 10th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MUIR and MR. R. B. MURPHY Prosecuted; MR. J.P. GRAIN and MR. KERSHAW Defended.
GUILTY . To enter into recognisances.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. BRANDON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
217. JOHN CHARLES COLLINS alias DUNDAS , (26), PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £50; also to obtaining by false pretences from Jeremiah Woodrow and others a hat and other goods with intent to defraud. Eighteen months' hard labour. —
(218) ESMOND WILLIAM WARD (32), otherwise WILLIAM WILSON , to wilful and corrupt perjury. Three previous convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard labour, to run concurrently with a sentence which he is now servinq. (See page 330). [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
The evidence is unfit for publication.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, February 10th, 1903.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. ARMYTAGE Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
HARRY CHURCH . I am a news agent of 10. Alwyne Villas, Canonbury—at 12.15 a.m. on January 2nd, I was with Frederick Maynard, a friend, in Rosebery Avenue—I saw the prisoner come out of a public-house, and told him I should give him a thrashing for carrying on with my wife—we had an altercation, and he pulled out a revolver and shot at me—I threw him to the ground, and tried to take the revolver away—a friend
of his then pulled me down upon my back—the prisoner then got up, and ran after my friend and fired at him—I said, "Don't fire at him, he has done nothing to you"—he then turned round and fired at me again—both shots hit me—I caught hold of him, held him till the police came, and gave him into custody, and then went to the hospital—I am an out patient now, but my wounds have healed.
Cross-examined. The altercation lasted three or four minutes—pretty strong language was used—it is not true that I threw the prisoner to the ground before he fired at me—he pointed the revolver straight at me—three shots were fired altogether.
FREDERICK MAYNARD . I am a commission agent, and live with Church—I was with him in Rosebery Avenue on the early morning of January 2nd. when we met the prisoner—Church went up to him and told him he would give him a thrashing—they had an altercation, and got to high words—they then separated as if to fight and all of a sudden there was a flash and a report—Church then shouted, "Look out," and I saw the prisoner running towards me, pointing a revolver at me—I ran away—I heard two other reports, and Church said that he was shot—afterwards the police came up and the prisoner was given into custody.
Cross-examined. I do not remember anything after the flash and the first report, until I heard Church shout, "Look out"—I did not see Church close with the prisoner—I cannot say whether he shot at me, my back was turned to him.
JAMES BRASINGTON (65 G). I was on duty in Dyson Street, on January 2nd, at 12.15 a.m., I heard a loud report, and two others a few seconds after—I ran into Rosebery Avenue and saw the prisoner held by two or three men—the prosecutor said, "He has shot me, lock him up"—I took him to the station—on the way he said. "I put it on him after they knocked me down"—he was formally charged, and in reply said. "Would you mind taking notice that I am smothered in mud where they knocked me down"—some one in the crowd handed me this revolver (Produced), there were four discharged cartridges in it, and one undischarged.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was very excited—he was not drunk, but had been drinking—I know him—as far as I know, he is a respectable man with a good character.
WILFRED ATTLEE . I am House surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—about 12.30 a.m., on January 2nd, the prosecutor was brought there—he had two wounds in front of his chest, one just above the seventh rib, and one in the middle line—both wounds tracked under the skin, the upper one for about two inches, and the lower one, for about four inches—the bullets were just under the skin, and were removed the same day—the wounds are now practically healed—they were both in dangerous positions—I do not think they struck with great force.
Cross-examined. Both bullets went in an upward direction, after entering the body, and are consistent with the person holding the revolver, being on the ground.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was assaulted by Church,
and fired three shots into the air to frighten him, but did not aim at him deliberately.
Evidence for the Defence.
JOHN GRANGER . I am a wood carver of 21, Margaret Street, Clerken-well—I was with the prisoner on this night—we were walking home together when Church stopped Dowell, and threatened to do it on him, and attempted to strike him—Dowell then pulled out a revolver and fired three shots at Church—they were all fired in quick succession, Dowell standing up at the time.
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
MR. HOPKINS Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES Defended.
WILLIAM GEORGE JAMES . I am a foreman painter in the employ of the Corporation of Westminster—I have known the prisoner several years—he used to be employed under me until he went out to South Africa, with the reservists—he was invalided home, and came to work with me again—his sight was then very bad, and I asked him to arrange to go into another department—he was a little upset about it, but we still remained friendly—on January 3rd, about 1 p.m., I was leaving work, when he asked me to have a drink with him—I refused—he said, "Have you anything against me"—I said, "No, certainly not" and he then fired a revolver at me—he took it from his right hand pocket—I ducked and he missed me, but broke a pane of glass—he then put the revolver away, and brought out some cartridges saying, "Somebody has got to have these"—I then went home—a little later, I saw Clark coming towards my house, and I went to the door and locked it—he knocked three times, but I did not answer it, and he went away—I gave information to the police on the following Monday, January 5th.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had been at work with me for fifteen days before he was called out—I corresponded with him while he was in South Africa—I have always been on friendly terms with him—I cannot suggest any motive for his firing at me—the pistol did not go off accidentally, he fired it straight at me.
HENRY JONES (Detective Sergeant B.) On Monday, January 5th, the prisoner was pointed out to me—I told him I was a police officer, and should take him into custody for shooting at Mr. James in the vestry yard on the 3rd—he replied, "There must be some mistake"—I took him to the station, and on the way he said, "I am so sorry; I only did it to frighten him; I threw the revolver in the Thames on Sunday morning"—in reply to the charge, he said, "I am so sorry; we had been the best of friends; I would not hurt him for the world '—he afterwards told me that the revolver was at his home, and gave me the key of a box in which it was—I went to the house and found it, and seven cartridges.
Cross-examined. I know that a Mrs. Sampson gave the revolver to Clark as she was afraid of her husband having it in his possession.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "All I mean to say,
is I never meant to do the man any grievous bodily harm; we never had any words; it was more of a practical joke than anything else; I call no witnesses."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had served with the colours in India, Egypt, and South Africa; that the revolver was given him by a lady friend to destroy, as she was afraid of it being in her house; that he was about to show it to James who said, "Put that away Bill, it might go off," at the same time pushing his hand, and that when he did so it went off accidentally.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HOPKINS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Wright.
224. HENRY FANSHAWE JEWELL (35), and JOHN SKINNERTON (75), PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring to corruptly taking from George Ashton £5 upon account of aiding him to recover a certain stolen dog his property; also to conspiring to corruptly take from Albert Basil Orme Wilberforce £4 10s., upon account of aiding Violet Mary Wilberforce to recover a certain stolen dog, her property. SKINNERTON received a good character— Nine months' imprisonment on each count to run consecutively. JEWEL— Six months' imprisonment an each count to run consecutively.
MR. MURPHY Prosecuted; MR. LAMBERT Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MURPHY, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted.
The prisoner stated that he pawned the goods, but had no intention of converting them to his own use, upon which the Jury found him.
GUILTY . There were several other indictments against him for like offences, and he had been convicted of unlawfully pawning. Nine months' hard labour.
228. JOHN TONE (20), and WILLIAM SHEHAN (20), PLEADED GUILTY to having being found by night, armed with loaded revolvers, with intent to break and enter dwelling houses, having both been convicted at Bow Street, on March 24th, 1892. Three other convictions were proved against Tone, and two against Shehan. MR. PURCELL, for Shehan, stated that the Roman Catholic Mission had interfered in his behalf, and that funds were promised to send him to Canada. Judgment respited. —
(229) ANTHONY RICHARDSON (30) , to a libel on Ethel Flux. The prisoner stated publicly that the accusations he had made against the prosecutrix, his mistress were absolutely false. Six months' imprisonment. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HUMPHREYS, for the Prosecution, stated that the prisoner wrote a full confession before his defalcations were known, and that he had done all he could to assist the prosecution, and had given up shares value about £2,000. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
232. DOUGLAS HALE (45) and ROBERT FELTON (64) , Conspiring to induce persons to apply for shares in a Company called Hale, Howitt, and Company, Limited, with intent to defraud. Second count. Conspiring to defraud the said Hale, Howitt, and Company. Other counts, for defrauding other persons.
MR. C. W. MATHEWS, MR. A. GILL, and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted;
MR. HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Defended.
During the progress of the case the prisoners stated that they would PLEAD GUILTY to the first and second counts, upon which the Jury found a verdict of GUILTY on the first and second counts. Three convictions were proved against Felton, and one against Hale at this Court in September, 1890. HALE— Nine months' hard labour. FELTON— Three months' hard labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1903.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
233. ALFRED ARISS alias BRADSHAW (52) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of George Payne, and stealing two over-coats and other articles, his property; also to stealing a bicycle, the property of Frederick Walter Wright, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on January 3rd, 1899. Three years' penal servitude.
MR. GIVEEN Prosecuted; MR. BIRON Defended.
The Court considered that there was no evidence of fraud to go to the Jury and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. JAY Prosecuted.
ALEXANDER JONES . I am a jeweller, of 99, West Green Road, Tottenham—on January 12th, at 9.30 p.m., I left my shop safely locked up—the next morning at eight o'clock I was sent for by the police, and found the shop door had been forcibly opened, and the police in charge of the place—I missed a quantity of gold and silver jewellery, some watches, and plated goods—I identify this pen and watch (Produced), the watch by the name on the movement, the number on the case, and by the glass—these watches are sent out from the factory with flat glasses, and I substituted a best one for it.
PERCY LINTOT (357 N.) I arrested the prisoner at 12.15 a.m. on January 22nd—I found upon him this pen and watch, a pair of gloves, two jemmies, a screw driver, a piece of candle, a box of matches, a knife, and a purse containing 10s. in silver.
JAMES CHANDLER (Detective N.) I examined the prosecutor's premises on the morning of January 13th—an entry had been effected by pushing the catch back of a back window, lifting it, and forcing an iron sheet away—the kitchen door had also been forced, and another door leading to the shop—I compared the marks on the window and doors with the two jemmies, and they corresponded.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not make the marks upon the doors myself—Mr. Jones was with me when I compared them.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerken-well on June 6th, 1900, in the name of Sydney Howard. Four other convictions were proved-against him. Three years' penal servitude.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
RICHARD SQUIRE . I am an undertaker of 10, Royal Parade, Chislehurst—in March, 1902, I instructed the prisoner to collect an account of £12 12s. for me—I saw him again some time in April, and asked him if he had received the cheque, and he said "No"—I then wrote to Messrs. Hore, Patterson, and Co., of 52, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and got a reply from them saying that a cheque had been sent to Mr. Emmott on March 24th—I them put the matter into the hands of the Law Society—I know the prisoner's
writing—this endorsement on this cheque (Produced) is his—it is not mine—I never saw the cheque until it was given me by the police—I did not give the prisoner authority to endorse it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. We were very friendly at the time—I have played at billiards with you—it is quite true that I had assigned my business and property to my wife—I did not tell you to cash the cheque, take your wack, and send the balance to me—there were no costs due to you—I had previously paid you £3 10s. for work done, and that included the collecting of this account.
FREDERICK WILLOUGHBY HORES . I am one of the firm of Hore, Patterson, and Co., 52, Lincoln's Inn Fields—I remember receiving an account from Mr. Squires for 12 guineas, and there was a question as to the amount—I also remember receiving an application from Mr. Emmott for the money and on March 24th I sent the cheque produced for £12 12s. to Mr. Emmott—it is made payable to It. Squires or order, and has been paid—I do not recollect receiving any communication from Mr. Squires, but that may have been done without my knowing it.
Cross-examined. The cheque is endorsed "R. Squires, C. Fred. Emmott."
WALTER SMITH . I am a cashier at the Union Deposit Bank, 17, King William Street, Charing Cross—the prisoner presented this cheque for payment on March 26th—we had not enough money, and I gave him an exchange slip on the London and County Bank, Covent Garden Branch—I cannot say whether the cheque was already endorsed, or whether it was endorsed in my presence.
Cross-examined. I have known you about fifteen years—I have never known you do anything dishonest.
JOHN HEARUM . I am a cashier at the London and County Bank, Covent Garden Branch—on March 26th, I remember this exchange slip and cheque being brought to the Bank; I cannot say by whom—I gave the person twelve guineas, and the cheque has since been paid through the bank.
ELIAS BOWER (Detective Inspector.) I arrested the prisoner on February 3rd—I read the warrant to him; he replied, "I understand"—shortly afterwards, he said, "I admit endorsing the cheque; I thought I had some sort of authority from Mr. Squires to do so; I also admit I dad not pay the money over to Mr. Squires: I will tell the Magistrate the truth; I cannot dispute the facts; I must trust to his clemency to deal with me."
Prisoner's Defence. "I was instructed by Squires to get the cheque, cash it, take my wack, and send the balance to him."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GREEN Prosecuted.
BECKETT GUILTY — Six months hard labour.
LECKNER NOT GUILTY .
MR. GREEN Prosecuted.
JAMES WALLS (126 City.) On February 8th, about 3 a.m., I was on duty at Bridewell Police Station when the prisoner was brought in—I searched him, and found two cheques on him, one for £50 and one for £4 10—I asked him where he got them from, and he said he found them in a passage—at that time I had had information as to what had happened in Bolt Court.
JONADAB GROTTICK (Detective Officer.) I took the prisoner under remand to the Union—on the road he said that he and his brother were standing in Bolt Court when his brother suggested opening the letter boxes to see if there were any postal orders in them; that he went upstairs to get a pair of pincers, and then forced open the letter boxes and got the two cheques; that his brother kept the cheque for £4 10s., and he had the one for £50
SYDNEY ARTHUR TOPPING . I am a commission agent of Bolt Court, Fleet Street—this cheque for £50 is from a client of mine—when I examined my letter box, I found that it had been forced open, and the lock smashed—when I left it the previous evening it was all right.
GUILTY . Three years' in a reformatory school.
For the case of Edgar Edwards tried on Thursday and Friday, February 12th and 13th, see Surrey cases.
NEW COURT.—Thursday. February 12th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; Mr. Green Defended.
GUILTY on the second count.
MENDEL— Two years' hard labour. DORA— Six months' in the second division.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 12th.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted; MR. C. W. MATHEWS, MR. STEPHENSON, AND MR. MORRIS Defended.
During the progress of the case the prisoner withdrew his plea of justification, and said that he was Guilty. GUILTY . To enter into his own recognizances.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, February 12th, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. CLARKE HALL Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
The Jury, failing to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict, and the Trial postponed to next Session.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN MEACHAM . I am a French polisher, of 8, Trifina Place, Bow Lane—I was formerly a Reservist in the 18th Hussars—I was discharged from the Colours on August 10th, 1902, and went to 14, Abbey Street, Plaistow, where the prisoner, who is my aunt, lives—I only stayed a few hours—on August 11th I decided to leave that address, and told my aunt that letters might come for me, and that she was not to open them—I went to Bow Lane—I did not tell her the address—about three months after August 11th I went to see my aunt—I asked her if she had any letters for me—she showed me these opened envelopes—one contained my discharge, and the other a money order for £10—the postmarks are November 15th and 17th, and both are addressed to Private B. Meacham, 14, Abbey Street, Plaistow—I told her that she ought not to have opened them, and it was quite likely she would get into trouble over it—she said, "Don't make a fuss about that," and that she had already changed one order for £9, and would pay it back at £1 a week after Christmas, and that a man came into the shop who said he had been a soldier for fifteen years, and had shown her the way to change the order, and that she had paid £4 rent, and bough herself a pair of boots with the money—I reported the matter to Aldershot—the signature "Benjamin Meacham" on this order for £9 is not mine, nor written with my authority—it is dated December 1st, so that the interview with my aunt must have been subsequent—I never told her that she could use money coming to me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You asked me if I had money to lend, and I said no—I told you at the corner public-house that I had no money—I never said, "No, but if any money comes you can use it, as I have altered my address," nor anything of the kind—I said there might be letters, and that I did not know what might be in them.
Re-examined. I changed my address because I did not like the place—I told the prisoner so.
FREDERICK LLOYD . I am a Corporal in the 11th Hussars at Aldershot—I enclosed these Post Office Orders in the envelope produced, on November 10th, 1902, and posted it, after writing the address on it, "14, Abbey Street, Plaistow," which is the address entered by the orderly on the Army Form—that is the proper place to enter it.
JESSIE PRIMROSE PATCHELL . I live at 472. Mile End Road, and am an assistant at the Post Office, High Street, Plaistow—I received these advices, and paid the orders produced for £10 and £9, payable to Benjamin Meacham—the £9 order is dated December 1st.
The Prisoner. "That is the young woman who gave me the money."
PRISCILLA HIBBS . I live at 12, Selwyn Road, Plaistow—14, Abbey Street is my property—the rent is 9s. 6d. a week—it was paid by Mr. Miller, the husband—he got into arrears in the autumn, and sometimes I received a few shillings over the 9s. 6d.—at most 2s. 6d. over, never £1.
WILLIAM BROWN (Defective Officer.) On January 8th, about 5 p.m., I went with Inspector Nicholls to 14. Abbey Street, Plaistow—I said to the prisoner, "Is your name Mary Ann Miller?"—she said, "Yes,"—I said "I have a warrant for your arrest for stealing a Post Office Order for £9 in November last—she said, "Yes, I took it, but my boy had told me if I was short of money I could have some, I did not sign it, a man who came into the shop with a pair of old boots did that for me, but I do not know who he is, nor where he lives."
The prisoner, in her defence, repeated this statement.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
244. ARCHIBALD HENRY WATTS (37) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying Daisy Emma Giles, his wife being alive; also to making a false declaration before the Marriage Registrar. Nine months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
245. WALTER JAMES WALLIS PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining credit for £114 7s. 10d, £90 14s. 1d., and £28 8s., without stating that he was an undischarged bankrupt. Two months' imprisonment in the second division.—And
(246) GEORGE WRIGHT (30) and JAMES JACKSON (47) , to stealing three saws and other tools, the goods of Edward Onslow, and other tools of other workmen. Twelve months' hard labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. F. E. GREEN Prosecuted.
MARTHA CALNAN . I am the wife of Phillip Calnan, a blacksmith, of 26, Market Buildings, High Street, Shadwell—on January 28th, about 6.30 p.m., I was in my rooms with the door locked, when the two prisoners broke open the door and forced their way in—Jarvis struck me under my right ear—I fell down, and was unconscious for some time—I do not remember anything more until I was scalded—my three little children were with me—the eldest is nine years old—when I came to, the prisoners had gone—I then went for a policeman.
Cross-examined by Jarvis. I did not call you a b----bastard, nor the female prisoner a b----rotten wh—I did not take up the tea kettle and scald myself.
I remember the two prisoners bursting our door open—they then knocked mother down, and the woman took the kettle of hot water off the fire and poured it over her—mother yelled out and the two people ran off.
Cross-examined by Jarvis. Mother did not take the kettle off the fir herself.
GEORGE BARTON (61 H.) On the evening of January 28th I was called to Market Buildings, High Street. Shadwell—I found the place a total wreck—a table was turned up in one corner of the room, the place was running with water, and a kettle was in another corner—the door had been forced open—the prosecutrix had a bad scald on her arm, and another on her forehead—the prisoners were not in the room when I went there; they were in their own rooms just underneath—the prosecutrix made a statement to me, and I arrested them—in their presence she told me that they had forced their way into the room, that the man caught hold of her hair and struck her, and that the woman poured a kettle of boiling water over her.
CHARLES GRAHAM GRANT . I am Police Surgeon of the H Division—I saw the prosecutrix about 8 p.m. on January 28th—she was suffering from a scald on her right arm, four inches by three, and a similar injury to her forehead and scalp—she would not entertain the idea of going to the hospital, so I visited her the next morning—I then found her lips swollen and her right eye very much closed—her pulse was 126 to the minute—I saw her four days ago, and she was then practically well—she must have suffered great pain—if the temperature of the water had been a little higher she would have lost her sight—I do not think her injuries are consistent with her falling down with a kettle.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Jarvis says, "My daughter can prove I was not in the place; the door was open when I went there; I did not touch the lady." Mudd says, "She scalded herself."
GUILTY . JARVIS— Twelve months' hard labour.
MUDD— Two years' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PASMORE Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
HARRY TARBARD (Constable R.). I arrested the prisoner on December 18th, at the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, where he was employed—Elizabeth McPherson instituted the proceedings against him—I knew the prisoner previously—when I arrested him, he said, "I did not know my wife was alive, or I should not have married again"—this is the certificate of his marriage. (Dated November 14th, 1885, at the Parish Church, Lenham, Kent.)—his name on the certificate of the second marriage, which was on September 6th, 1902, is given as Frederick John Barnes, he did not give any reason for having taken that name—I told him I should take him into custody for feloniously marrying in the name of Barnes; he said his name was Barton.
Cross-examined. He had been employed at the Arsenal about three years in the same name—I believe he has been separated from his wife for fourteen years.
ELIZABETH ELSE . I live at Lenham in Kent, and am the sister of the prisoner's wife—I was present on November 14th, 1885, when they were married, and I signed the register—they lived together for about twelve months at Ashford—at the time of the marriage he was twenty-three years old, and was a carter—one Saturday my sister came home for a holiday, he was supposed to come later, but did not do so, and we heard that he had deserted her—my sister lived in London for eight or nine years after that—she has one boy—he was ten months old when she came to us—she now lives at my home, with me and my mother—she was a housekeeper to three ladies—we have lived at Lenham all our lives—on November 17th, 1902, the prisoner called at my mother's cottage as another man—I recognised him, but did not tell him so—he inquired for my sister—I said, "Which one?"—he said, "Fanny"—he asked me if I had ever heard of my sister going back to live with her husband again—he did not give any name—I said I had never heard her say anything about it—he asked if my sister knew what name he had been married in—I said I did not know—he said he thought they had better have a separation.
Cross-examined. My sister took the housekeeper's place about twelve months after the prisoner left her—she often came down to see us while she was living in London—I do not think they got on well together—I do not know the reason of his leaving her—I never saw him from the time he left his wife till November, 1902, to my knowledge.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
250. EDWARD CHRISTENSEN (21), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing two candlesticks the goods of Adolphus Bridges in his dwelling house; also a clock case, a watch, and a coronation medal, the goods of Harry Beadles; also to stealing a clock, the goods of Caroline Keath; also to stealing a clock, the goods of Alexander Haigh, in his dwelling house. Eighteen months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
HENRY COLLIER . I was formerly in the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers—I am deaf—I was last year in Cardiff Workhouse and am now—the prisoner was "luny" master—for the first time last year, I become entitled, under some new regulations, to a pension of 4d. a day, and received Form A The particulars and description of the pension) to be filled up—I got another
pauper named James to fill it up—I signed the declaration at the end—"I am the above named pensioner"—the words "Workhouse, Cardiff," are scratched through—I told James to put that as the place of payment—I did not write "Post Office, Canton, Cardiff, till called for"—I took it to the prisoner at the receiving ward, and asked him to get it signed for me by the doctor—he said he would—I called for it some time afterwards, and it was signed by Dr. Lee—the prisoner said I should have nothing till October—I posted the paper after he returned it to met—I did not sign "Henry Collier" on Exhibit B—I have not seen this paper before (This was a money order, stamped July 15th, 1902, for £1 19s, 1d., issued at the Wrexham Regimental District Pay Office, and payable at the Post Office, Canton, Cardiff.)—I know nothing of this application (Exhibit D), for transfer of payment from Cardiff, to the S.E. District Money Order Office, London, dated August 12th; I did not sign it—I never got that order for £1 18s. 10d.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I brought you Exhibit A about 11 a.m.—I do not remember if I was present when the doctor signed it—I have a nephew named Albert Clifford—I did not converse with him about the guardians stopping my pension for my maintenance—I joined the Welsh Fusiliers in 1857—I got James to write to the Paymaster when I did not receive my pension in October—I waited for the paper in the receiving ward with others—I was working, and had to get back to my work—you brought it back to me in the afternoon—the only thing I noticed then was the doctor's signature at the bottom, that is all I looked for.
GEORGE PLEWS . I am a clerk to the Guardians at Cardiff—the prisoner entered on his duties as male lunatic attendant at the Cardiff Workhouse on June 23rd, 1902—he sent a letter of resignation dated July 12th, which was received on July 13th—he received a letter from the guardians to attend a meeting to inquire into the genuineness of his testimonials—he went off without attending—he said he had been an Army pensioner, and had a Victoria Cross—Exhibit E is a book kept in the lunatic ward, in which it was the prisoner's duty to make entries—I know his writing—the words on Exhibit A "Post Office, Canton, Cardiff," which have been substituted for the words "Workhouse, Cardiff," are the prisoner's writing, as well as the words, "Henry Collier" in Exhibit B, the money order for £1 19s. 1d., the words "South Eastern District, London, S.E.," at the back of it, and the words in Exhibit C, the application for transfer of the repayment of the order, "Post Restante, South-Eastern District, London," and the signature, "Henry Collier"—I cannot pass an opinion on the signature "Henry Collier," to the receipt on Exhibit D. '
Cross-examined. I am not an authority on handwriting—I see a great deal of it—your wages would have been £1 9s. 8d. to the time you left—you did not get any—the wages are paid monthly—the letter of resignation was left on the Sunday when you went off.
WILLIAM ROWLAND LEE . I am Medical officer of the Cardiff Union—I signed Exhibit A of July 12th, 1902—Williams, who was lunatic attendant brought the form to me—he was with Collier, an inmate—he asked me to fill up the bottom part of it, as I usually do with a number of pensions which
are paid to inmates—when I had signed it I handed it back to Williams, under the impression that it was to be given to the Relieving Officer, as is usually done—there was no alteration in it when I handed it back to Williams.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I came about 1 p.m.
MAJOR HENRY WESTENRA CARDEN . I am Paymaster at Wrexham for the 12th Fusiliers—I sent out Exhibit A on July 11th—I received it back on July 14th, filled up, and on July 10th my clerk made out the money order for the £1 19s. 1d., and I posted it—it is the regular Army money order, showing the amount due to Collier on his pension of 4d. a day—this was the first pension he drew, and covered the time from June 5th to September 30th, the end of that quarter—I cannot exactly say what the prisoner said with regard to the words "Post Office, Canton, Cardiff," but I remember he made a statement.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor has not received any of this pension—he has received some subsequently I believe.
Re-examined. The Guardians do not stop pensions under 8d. a day coining to paupers.
ALICE STANLEY . I am the wife of Thomas Stanley, and am a clerk at the Canton Branch Post Office, Cardiff—about August 2nd, 1902,1 received a letter from Henry Collier from Wrexham, and a notice from the South Eastern District Office in London, that a Post Office Order was to be sent there to be called for—the letter would be sent to the Postmaster with the notice enclosed—the application for transfer, Exhibit C, passed through my hands—the Order, Exhibit B, is for £1 19s. 1d.—on August 8th I issued Exhibit D, which is an Order for the payment of £1 18s. 10d., payable to Henry Collier at the South Eastern District Post Office, London—I addressed it adding, "Wait till called for," and sent it to the S.E. District Post Office London, in accordance with the regulation.
EMMELINE AVIS OLIVER . I am a clerk at the S.E. District Post Office, London—the words in Exhibit C, "Canton, Cardiff," "myself," "South Eastern District," and "Wrexham," at the bottom are my writing—it passed through my hands, but I do not recollect the circumstances.
Cross-examined. I have seen someone like you at the office.
GRACE MITCHELL . I am a clerk in the S.E. District Post Office, Borough Road, London—I cashed the P.O. Order, Exhibit D, for £1 18s. 10d. on August 12th—it bears my initials—I have no recollection about it.
ALBERT WARD (Detective Sergeant.) About 10 a.m. on January 9th I arrested the prisoner at East Dulwich—I read the warrant to him—it was for forging a receipt—he said, "I know nothing at all about it"—when Major Carden was giving evidence at the Police Court the prisoner asked the Magistrate if he might see the form—he took it in his hand and said, "The line 'Post Office. Canton, Cardiff, till called for,' is my writing"—it was then handed back.
Cross-examined. I visited 14, Berkeley Street, in November—I have been
told that another officer visited there, but not in reference to this case—I have since visited it several times—14, Berkeley Street, is the address where you lived once—I have not tampered with, but I have opened letters addressed to you—I had reasons for doing so since you were in custody—I spoke to a Deaconess about your character—you are an impostor.
Prisoner, in his defence, said that the words "Post Office, Canton, Cardiff, till called for," were his writing, but at the prosecutor's request, who said, "You sign it, I am no scholar, or else the Guardians will take my pension away," that he afterwards found out that when he was out for his half-day that the prosecutor could have got the pension; that the Guardians owed him £2 13s. 4d., including his hotel expenses in Cardiff, and that he was not likely to leave that and come to London for £1 18s. 10d., that he was innocent; and that the money was agreed between Collier and his nephew to be given to the nephew.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in September, 1898. Five other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude.
MR. O'CONNOR and MR. MORGAN Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE and MR. STEWART Defended.
JOHN HENRY STOBRAD BRADLEY . I live at 20, Auckland Street—I have been in business four to five years as a steel maker—I made an agreement with the prisoner to sell a patent, dated September 29th, 1902—I withdrew from it after working a week, making drawings and tracings, and getting only 9s. the prisoner having £50—I received this letter of December 26th, 1902—it is in the prisoner's writing—(This was marked "Private," addressed "Dear Bradley," and stated, "I was pained on seeing you with Robinson this day"."Robinson I shall ever look upon as a dirty criminal"."he has done dirty business for some years" "I know he has done eighteen months for forgery," and "you now nothing of this class of vermin.")
Cross-examined. After the agreement I went to the prisoner's place day by day and wasted my time—Robinson did most of the writing, and if it had not been for Robinson I should have thought that he was an honest man, till he told me he was a scamp—Robinson volunteered to do my correspondence, and I thanked him—he told me the prisoner is a scamp, so he is, and if he gets outside I am waiting, and it will be far more serious; he has been lodging all over London, getting £50 here, and £50 there, the man has been a scamp and an adventurer all his life—Robinson was not my servant—there was no quarrel—I never gave the prisoner a bad word.
MR. BURNTE submitted that the letter was privileged, being written by persons between whom there was a common interest and not maliciously. The COURT held that the question whether the letter was a libel, was for the Jury The prisoner then, on the advice of his Counsel said he was Guilty of writing the letter.
GUILTY . To enter into recognisances.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GREENE Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
ROBERT FRANKLAND . I am a ship broker, and live in the Borough—on Christmas Eve, between 8 and 9, I was in the Winchester Arms, Suffolk Street, Borough, and saw the prisoner—he was in one bar and I in another—he kept saying that he could get as much in a day as I could in a month—he came round to the bar I was in and struck me with a knife, and I was in the hospital six weeks and four days—I had not pushed him or knocked him down—I never had a word with him in my life, and I have known him for years.
Cross-examined. He accused me of working cheaper than him—I did not use bad language to him—I did not ask him to come outside and fight—I do not believe I struck him—I had had a drop, but I was not drunk—I swear I did not knock him down—I did not go back into the bar, nor did he follow me—I had a barrow outside—he did not say, "Don't come rushing at me, because I have got a knife, and will defend myself"—I did not attack him at all.
LOUISA MILBANK . I am single, and live at 22, Kemp's Court—on Christmas Eve I was standing at my stall opposite the Winchester Arms, and saw Ford—Mr. Frankland touched him and he fell down, and got up and went into the bar—I saw Ford-go to his barrow and get a knife, and I saw Frankland on the ground bleeding—I saw a knife in Ford's hand, but did not see him use it.
Cross-examined. I saw them quarrelling outside the public-house—Frankland followed him into the public-house, but went into a different bar—I do not know what took place inside—Ford struck the first blow—no one else was in the passage—I do not know whether Frankland rushed at Ford, because I turned to serve a customer.
JOHN MARTIN (87 B.) I was on duty near the Winchester Arms—between 8 and 9 o'clock I saw a great crowd—Frankland took his shirt out from his trousers, and I saw part of his bowels hanging out—I said, "Who did this?"—the prisoner said, "I did it with this knife"—I took him in custody.
Cross-examined. It has practically healed—I cannot say how he was as to drink as the wound would destroy any effects of alcohol—the prisoner said before the Magistrate, "I did it in the height of passion."
JOHN MARTIN (Re-examined.) The prisoner has always borne a good character as a peaceable man—Frankland was perfectly sober, but I did not see him that night before he was wounded—when the prisoner was charged at the police station he said, "I did not intend to do him bodily harm; I said, "Will you go away.'"
The prisoner, in his defence, stated upon oath that Frankland knocked him down, but he took no notice of that, and went on opening oysters for
somebody, and then went into the Winchester Arms, where Frankland called him bad names; that he went out again, and was opening oysters, when Frankland made a rush at him by his barrow, and he said,"Go away, I have a knife in my hand," but that Frankland plunged on the knife by the side of the barrow, and that it was not done in the house.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, with great provocation. Six months' hard labour.
MR. LATHAM Prosecuted.
BERNARD STEPHEN MCATEER . I am a carpenter, of 2, Huban Road, Fulham, and I work for Mr. Harknell, Meridith Road, Barnes—on January 7th, about 4.30 p.m., I locked up the workshop and left my tools inside—at 7.45 a.m., I went to the shop and found the door broken in and some tools scattered about—these tools (Produced) are mine—they were missing from the workshop, and I went to the Putney Police Station and identified them—their value is £3.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I told the Magistrate that I left some of the tools on the bench and some in a basket, the majority were in the basket—whoever took them must have taken them from the basket—I do not think that anybody on the job took them—nobody went into the workshop just as I was leaving—I did not see you there on this day—I said at the police station that I borrowed the bag and a rule of a navy, but I said I was responsible for them.
EUSTACE GOLDSMITH (608 7). About 6.30 p.m. on January 7th, I was in Lower Richmond Road, Putney, in plain clothes, off duty—I saw the prisoner carrying a sack on his back—as I passed him I happened to brush against him, and he gave me rather a startled look, which aroused my suspicions—I followed him to a urinal in High Street, Putney, where I saw him transferring some tools from the bag to his pocket—I put several questions to him as to his possession of the tools, and his answers were unsatisfactory—I found him about a mile from the workshop—I asked him if the tools belonged to him; he said, yes—I took him to the station and charged him with unlawful possession—on the way there, he said, "Look here, governor, it is no use my telling you any lies, I will tell you the truth The tools dropped from a cart in the Lower Richmond Road, and I picked them up"—that was about half a mile away, it was not between Meredith Road and the prisoner—first he said his name was Green, at the station he said it was Frederick Webb—I think his proper name is Ewing.
Cross-examined. I live about five minutes away from where I first saw you—it was dark then but I could see your face—it is a well lighted thorough-fare—you put the tools back into the bag at the urinal—it is fairly well lighted—it is in a busy thoroughfare, but you were the only one in the urinal while I was there—this is the bag you were carrying—you told me that Sergeant Dolling, who used to be at Wimbledon, knew you well by the name of "Squash."
8th, I saw the prisoner at the South Western Police Court, where he was charged with unlawful possession of some tools—he was discharged, and I told him I should take him into custody for breaking and entering a work-shop in Meredith Road, and stealing the tools—he replied, "I picked them up in the Upper Richmond Road"—I said, "Upper Richmond Road?" he said, "Near Barnes"—I took him to the station, he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. I have not found anyone to say that you were in Barnes on that day—I have evidence to show that you have been in Barnes during the last three months.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he saw the bag drop off a cart in Richmond Road; that he picked it up and threw it over his shoulder; that he then went into the urinal, and took one or two things out of the bag to see what was in it, when the constable arrested him; he admitted that he had been convicted in 1894 of unlawful possession, and sentenced to nine months' hard labour.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Kingston-on-Thames on October 16th, 1894, and four other convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour.
255. ALFRED PINK (32) and GEORGE ADE (29), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously attempting to steal from a post office letter box, certain post letters the property of the Postmaster-General; also to maliciously depositing upon the said letter box a certain noxious substance likely to injure the said box, Pink† having been convicted of felony on August 14th. 1901, at South London Sessions, and Ade at the same court on January 8th, 1902 PINK, Eighteen months' hard labour —ADE, Nine months' hard labour.
The prosecutor not appearing, MR. GANZ, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. LE MAISTRE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM GILBERT YATES . I am an oilman of 9, Chalmont Road, Tooting—I have no shop—I rent a coach-house in Norman Road, where I keep my van—it was quite safe on January 23rd—the next day I found all the place in confusion, and several articles missing—I informed the police—these matches and soap (Produced) are my property—I identify the matches by the date, "1st July, 1903"—similiar matches and soap are supplied throughout the trade, you can buy the same at any oil shop—the value of the articles produced is sixpence—3s. worth of goods were stolen altogether—the door of the coach-house was only fastened with string.
and found the place in confusion—the same day I saw the prisoner at Wimbledon Police Station—eleven boxes of matches and two cakes of soap were found on him, which the prosecutor identified—he was charged and made no reply.
By the COURT. Yates told me that there were other things missed, but only the things produced were found upon the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LE MAISTRE Prosecuted.
ANNIE BUSHILL . I am married, and live at 9, High Path, Merton—this shirt (Produced) is mine—on January 2nd, I hung it on the clothes line at the back of my house—the next morning I missed it, and went and told Mr. Hyde, a pawnbroker—I went there again on the 5th, and saw it—its value is 2s. 6d.—I never saw the prisoner.
ALBERT GOLD . I am a labourer of 113, High Street. Merton—on Janu ary 3rd, I saw the prisoner near the Grove Hotel—he asked me to buy a pawn-ticket for a shirt for 3d. as he wanted to get some food—I bought it—on the 5th I tendered the ticket at Mr. Hyde's, but he told me the shirt was stolen, and refused to part with it—I have known the prisoner by sight for twelve months, but have not known his name long.
JAMES FOSTER . I live at 170, High Street, Merton, and am manager to Mr. Hyde, a pawnbroker—on January 3rd, I took this shirt in pawn for 1s.—I cannot identify the person who pawned it—on the 5th, Gold tendered the ticket, and wanted to take it out, but I had had intimation that it had been stolen, and refused to part with it.
GEORGE HILL (38 V. R.). On January 23rd, I arrested the prisoner—I told him I should take him into custody on suspicion of stealing a shirt from off the line at 9, High Path, Merton—he said, "I did not steal the shirt; I expect the wind blowed it off the line, and I picked it up in the allotments; I pawned it at Mr. Hyde's for a shilling"—after being charged, he said, "I sold the ticket to Goldie for four pence."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BIRON Prosecuted; MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. GREEN Defended The COURT considered that there was no case to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
Before Mr. Justice Wright.
DR. O'CONOR Prosecuted.
On the evidence of Dr. Scott, the medical officer at Brixton Prison, the Jury found that the prisoner was insane and unfit to plead. To be detained during Sis Majesty's pleasure.
262. EDGAR EDWARDS (44) was indicted for and charged on the Coroner's inquisition, with the wilful murder of John Darby. (The prisoner refused to plead, and the Court ordered a plea of NOT GUILTY to be entered for him.)
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES and Mr.
ALICE MAUD GOODWIN . I live at 19, Elstead Road, Rodney Road and am the wife of James Goodwin—I have known the prisoner just on five years by the name of Glanville—he came to our house on Friday, November 28th—some years had elapsed since I had seen him—he asked me if my husband was in—I said he was not, but if he called later he would be—he said he had come to see if he could do me and my husband a good turn—he did not then say what it was—he came again that evening about nine—my husband was at home then—he told my husband in my presence that he had come to see if we would go and manage a business for him—my husband said that he would, and asked him what" sort of a business it was—the prisoner asked my husband if he could get him a sash-weight which he wanted to sway the door at York Road, Battersea—he did not then tell us where he living—I did not see him oil November 29th, but on Sunday, November was 30th, he came about 8.30 a.m.—he talked over the matter of the business he was going to buy—he did not tell us then where it was—he stayed all day, and had breakfast, dinner, and tea with us—he read the paper till it got late, when he asked my husband if we could make it convenient for him to stop all night, as he had lost the last 'bus to Victoria Park—I agreed, and I laid a bed down on the front room floor for him—next morning, December 1st, we got up and had a wash, and then had breakfast together, and the prisoner asked my husband if he would mind me pawning his umbrella as he was short of cash and he wanted a clean collar and a shave before going to the bank, as he could not get any money there before 10 am—I took the umbrella and pawned it at Thompson's in East Street for 1s. 6d.—I bought the prisoner a collar and brought the rest of the money and the pawn ticket back and gave them to my husband, who gave them to the prisoner—this is the ticket (Produced)—I used the name of Fowler when pawning the umbrella—my husband asked the prisoner if the sash-weight which he had got for him would do, and the prisoner said, "Yes, it will do nicely"—I saw it wrapped up in paper—at 9 a.m., as he was leaving, he asked us if we knew Wyndham Road, and we said "Yes"—he told us to meet him at the corner of Wyndham Road at 11.30, and if we should see him with a gentleman we were not to speak to him until he spoke to us—he then went out, taking the weight with him—we went to the corner of Wyndham Road at 11.30, and
waited till 12.5, when we see the prisoner coming from 22, Wyndham Road—he had a white apron on, and his shirt sleeves rolled up—he said he was very sorry he had kept us waiting, but he had been running about settling the matter with Mr. Darby—we went with him to the shop, No. 22, he took us in by the front door, and asked us what we thought of it—my husband said he thought the shop was all right, but that it was in a rough neighbourhood—we stayed about ten minutes, when the prisoner told us we had better go back and see to my baby, have some dinner, and get back by 1 or 1.30—we left the shop about 12.15 and returned about 1.15, but could not get in—we tapped at the door, but got no answer—we waited about ten minutes when we saw the prisoner coming from the Camberwell Road end of Wyndham Road—he passed the Albany Road—he let us into the shop by the back door, and then through a little scullery into the shop parlour—lie told us to get our things off, and see about getting into the shop—he lent my husband 30s. to get his things out of pawn, and 2s. 6d. and gave him the pawn ticket to get the umbrella which I had pawned—we opened the shop between 1.50 and 1.55, and kept it open until 6 p.m.—I think the prisoner stopped in the parlour all the afternoon—at six o'clock he told my husband to shut the shop, as he thought he would close earlier that day being the first—we all three went away together—he shook hands with us, and told us to be there about 7.45 next morning, and then he went over to the other side of the road—next day, December 2nd, we went there again about 7.45 a.m.—the prisoner let us in—we kept the shop open all day till 10 p.m.—when we left the prisoner let us out—that was the order of events each day until the 10th—on that day the prisoner let us in in the morning—he went out between 9 and 9.30 a.m., and said if any travellers called they were to leave their lists and prices, and he would be back about eleven, but he never came back any more—I do not know where he went to live—I do not know the address 89, Church Road, Leyton—during the ten days that we were at the shop we never went upstairs, as the prisoner told us not to, on December 1st, as the Darby's furniture was locked up there—I remember Mrs. Baldwin coming on December 3rd between 6 and 7 p.m.—the prisoner had told us earlier in the day that Mr. Darby was supposed to be coming that evening and if anybody called to tell them so—when Mrs. Baldwin came I went into the shop parlour and heard a conversation between her and the prisoner—I remember a pony and a cart and a van coming to the shop—my husband went and go to them—this document, dated December 8th, is the agreement and terms on which we were engaged by the prisoner in the name of Louden he said he was going to trade as William Thomas Louden—I saw him write the document.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner called on us he was renewing an old friendship—there did not appear to be an air of mystery about the business—he told us he was buying a business, and it was to be settled on December 1st—it did not seem extraordinary to me that a man who said he was buying a business should be in need of 1s. 6d. and want to pawn an umbrella, because he said he had run short of cash and could not get to the bank until ten o'clock—Mr. Darby's name was not over the shop—I think
the name "Pearce" was up—the prisoner made no secret of Darby's existence or of his having been the proprietor of the shop—he mentioned Darby's name quite openly, and said he was buying the business of him—when the prisoner was staying at our house he was reading Mrs. Hartopp's case to my husband—at the shop he was writing letters in the shop parlour most of the time—I do not know what he was writing—he seemed to do a good deal of writing—I did not notice anything about his demeanour—he was always pacing up and down and was extremely restless—it did not strike me as extraordinary when he told us we were not to speak to him when we met him if there was a man talking to him—I have not had a business to manage before, I have served in business places—he only slept at our place one night—we went to bed about eleven—I did not hear anything of him till next morning—he slept downstairs in the front room—I did not notice a blood stain on the shop ceiling—we could have gone upstairs if we had wanted to—we were left alone at the shop a great part of the time—the prisoner did not, on one occasion leave us to lock up the shop—we did not lock it up once and leave by the back door—customers were coming in and out all day—several of them asked for Mr. Darby—he had been carrying on the business almost up to the day we went there—the prisoner did not seem anxious when people asked for Darby—my husband took a great part in the management of the business—I do not know if he took any part in moving some furniture—I know he went and got a van and took it round to the side door, but I cannot say what was packed in it, because I was in the shop—he helped to load it, and he told me when he returned that he had driven away with it—he did not tell me he had driven it to Leyton—he said "he had driven it to Whitechapel Church—he was afterwards sent for to meet the prisoner—if the prisoner was about he would now and again pop in and out and try to serve a customer—he was not very successful—I do not know if my husband helped to fetch any furniture from upstairs—I remember on December 9th locking up the shop—the prisoner went out that evening, and said to my husband, "Lock up, and bring me the key to East Street, Walworth."
Re-examined. I never knew whether the prisoner had a banking account—I do not know if he did any paying in or drawing out of the bank while we were at his shop—I never saw any cheque-book—I never noticed anything peculiar about him apart from his restlessness and he was always like that.
JAMES GOODWIN . I live at 19, Elsted Street—I remember seeing the prisoner there on November 28th in the evening—he said he had a shop at Battersea and another business at Camberwell, and that he had come to do me and my wife a bit of good if I liked to be his manager—nothing was settled that night, but he said, "Jimmy," you might get me a weight, I want it for a door at the shop at Battersea,"—he did not say any road at Battersea—he said he wanted a weight with a hole in it to hold a cord—I got him one of Mr. Holmes in Porter Street, on November 29th (A sash-weight of 5 1/2 lbs. was produced)—the prisoner promised to call that day, but he did not do so—he came next day, Sunday—he stayed with us all day and also for the night—I and my wife agreed to manage the shop for him—on
the Monday morning he said, "Have you got the weight? I want it this morning"—he took it, and said, "Do you know where Wyndham Road Camberwell, is?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "You and your wife meet me there at 11.30, and if you see me with a gentleman do not speak to me un less I speak to you"—he did not examine the weight—it was wrapped in paper—we met him at the corner of Wyndham Road about 12.5, and went with him to the shop—we remained there two or three minutes—we did not go into any other room—my wife and I went home and had some dinner and returned at 1.30—the shop was closed—we waited about ten minutes, when the prisoner came from the Camberwell Road direction—he took us round to the side and let us in, and said, "Get your things off and open the shop"—we opened at about 1.45—I had my working clothes on—he said, "Can't you make yourself a little respectable"—I said I had no money to get my things out of pawn—he said, "Well, I will lend you a sovereign"—he went to pull out a sovereign and said, "You had better have 30s."—he sent me to get my clothes, and gave me a ticket to get an umbrella out of pawn for him—the business was to be carried on as "W. T. Louden"—we continued to manage it from December 1st to 10th—we only went into the shop and shop parlour—we never went upstairs, because the prisoner gave us instructions not to do so as all the things were locked up—I remember Mrs. Baldwin calling on December 3rd—on that day before he went out the prisoner said to me, "If anyone calls and asks for Mr. Darby say he will be here between six and seven to-night"—on December 5th the prisoner said, "Do you know where to get a pony and cart, I want to go to market?"—I said I knew several, and I got a pony and cart at Mr. Greenfield's—I drove it round to the side gate of the shop—I got there after four o'clock—the prisoner opened the gate, and said, "Go into the shop"—I went in—the cart was at the gate for about ten minutes, and then the prisoner drove past the shop about 4.30 with the cart loaded with something all covered over—he came back about 8 p.m.—there was nothing in the cart except a plane—I said to him—"You have left something in it"—he said, "Never mind, I shall want the cart again tomorrow"—I then took the cart to Greenfield's—on the 8th the prisoner wanted a van—I went to Greenfield's, but the van was not in—I had to go back to the prisoner to see if the cart would do—he said he should have to make shift with it—I went back and got the cart for him, that was between 10 and 11 a.m.—I took it to the side door—he ordered me into the shop again, and about eleven I saw the prisoner go away with the cart—there was something in it covered over with something dark—he had said that he wanted the cart to take things to market—the prisoner came back with it about four—it was quite empty—I took it back to the yard—the prisoner told me he would want a van in the morning, which I got for him—I took it to the side gate—before I went to get it the prisoner said, "If you see a respectable young follow I can do with him, but don't bring a rough fellow"—I brought a young fellow—he and the prisoner brought some furniture and a bath out of the house—I was in the van, and I could not pack it quick enough for him—there were no boxes or trunks—the bath had something like crockery in it, but it was covered over with something dark—
the two of them lifted it up to the van—I think it was heavy—when the van was loaded the prisoner told me to send the young fellow into the shop, and then he said, "If you drive through here you will come to Newington Causeway railway arches, I will be there as quick as you"—I drove there and the prisoner came in about ten minutes—I was waiting for him, and he said, "You had better get up again and follow me"—he walked on the pavement, but because of the traffic I could not get through as quick as he could—he kept twenty or thirty yards in front of me—we got to London Bridge—he said, "Go down Fenchurch Street, down on the left, not too far down"—I was going to pull up in Fenchurch Street, and the prisoner said "A little further"—I got to Aldgate Church—there was a lot of traffic—I was about fifteen minutes pulling through—he pulled me up, and said "Get down, you have got some money, and get back to the shop as quick as you can, take the 'bus at Cornhill to Camberwell"—he drove the van straight off—I went back to the shop, and about 7 p.m. I got a telegram, "Jim, come at once, Harry, Whitechapel Church"—I went off at once—I waited about fifteen minutes at the church—when I saw the prisoner, he said, "You have arrived, you have done it quick enough; did not you give orders at the place where you got the van that I wanted it for the day; I have had no light, and have had to put it up for the day at some livery stables because I have not got a lamp"—I said, "Get a Chinese lantern"—I went into the stables and got a lamp and drove home—the prisoner said he had to meet a gentleman at Aldgate—I took the van to Greenfield's—there was nothing in it—I got to Greenfield's just after eight—next morning, the 10th, the prisoner came round just after nine, and said, "If anyone calls I shall be home at eleven o'clock, and if any travellers come don't take their lists in without they leave their price list"—he never came back—I did not know where he had gone or where to find him—I did not know anything of a house being taken by him at Leyton—on the 10th the brokers came in for rent, and I and my wife left the premises on the 11th—on the 6th, by the prisoner's orders, I had pawned some books—he had said that Mr. Darby had lent him a few things as he had run short of cash, and said, "I want you to take this box up to the pawnbroker's and hand it to the pawnbroker—I did so—I did not give any name—I got a ticket—I got 3s. on the box—I do not know the pawnbroker's name—the shop was at the corner of Albany Road—I gave the ticket and the money to the prisoner—I tried to pawn another lot of books that day, but the pawnbroker would not take them in—I took them back to the prisoner, and he sent me to take the orders for the groceries and teas and bacon—when I came back from that the prisoner gave me a small parcel, tied up and sealed, and said, "Take this to a pawnbroker's in Walworth Road"—I took it down, and it was opened by the pawnbroker—there were two rings in it—the pawn-broker said, "Tell your governor they are metal"—I got 22s. on them, which I gave to the prisoner with the ticket—that is the gentleman I pawned them with (Mr. Tilly).
Cross-examined. Wyndham Road is about fifteen or twenty minutes walk from my house—the prisoner-said he wanted the umbrella pawned because he was short of cash until 10 o'clock, when the bank opened—
he told me the Darbys still had their furniture in the house, but he had taken the shop—I helped him to take away the furniture because I was in his service, and acted as his servant, he did not say the furniture belonged to the Darbys, he said, "The Darbys' things have not gone away yet, so don't interfere or go upstairs"—we could have gone upstairs if we wanted to, but we obeyed his orders—I did not go upstairs till I went up with the brokers—I did not go up and help bring down a bedstead or bring a key from my home to take the bedstead down with—I have got a key for a bedstead at home—I did not know why he told me to drive to different streets with the furniture—I did not notice anything in the prisoner's manner that was timid or fearful, he spoke quite openly about the Darbys—one morning he said. "If you had not gone so early last night, Mr. Darby came just as you had gone home"—the prisoner was not restless when he was indoors, he was in the parlour writing and reading, he was only home for the evening time—he came into the shop about twice—he never served a customer to my knowledge—I was there all the time except when he sent me on errands—he was away a good deal—I did a good deal of pawning by his instructions—I did not ask him any questions about that—I was quite willing to do anything I was told.
Re-examined. When I went upstairs with the broker's men, all the doors were open bar the centre one which the broker's men busted in.
Cross-examined. I am a plumber's foreman—this was the only weight I Lad on the premises—it is very exceptional for us to have one at all.
HARRY DARBY . My brother, William John Darby, had a business at 22, Wyndham Road—I am acquainted with his writing—this paper (Exhibit 27) looks like an imitation of his writing, but I should not think it is his—Read, "22, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, S.E., December 1st, 1902, Received of Mr. William Thomas Louden the sum of thirty pounds (£30), as a deposit, and in part payment of the sum of fifty pounds (£50). for the purchase of the grocery and general business carried on at 22, Wyndham Road, Camberwel), S.E., with all the goodwill, fixtures, fittings, utensils, and stock in trade of the same. This deposit is made subject to landlord's approval of the purchaser as tenant."
CHARLES FREDERICK NEWBY . I am a baker, of 46, Harris Street, Camber-well—I was in the habit of serving the Darbys at 22, Wyndham Road—I last served them with bread on December 1st, at 8.20 a.m.—I saw Mr.—Darby—I called later in the day and sow Mrs. Goodwin.
ANN WHITTINGTON . I live at 20, Wyndham Road, which is next door to 22, which is a corner house—I was in the habit of dealing with Mr. Darby—I have a sister whose birthday is on December 1st. and on that day I remember going to Mr. Darby's shop about 11 a.m.—I had a conversation
with him—I called again at 1 o'clock, and found the door shut—I called again at 5 o'clock, and saw Mr. Goodwin and his wife.
Cross-examined. The Darbys had been there, I think, seven months and a fortnight—I knew them quite well, but not before they came there.
MAURICE SOLOMON . I am a pawnbroker of 91. Camberwell Road, which is the comer of Albany Road—on December 1st, I took into pledge a gold watch and chain and a mounted coin, this (Produced) is the contract note relating to them, and this (Produced.) is the watch and chain—I advanced £7 on them—I gave this counterfoil to the person who pawned them—I cannot recognise the person—the counterfoil was signed W. T. Louden, by the person who pledged the articles in my presence—it was about 12 o'clock—on December 6th. I took a parcel-of books into pledge from James Goodwin, this (Produced) is the ticket relating to them—I advanced 15s. on them, they were pledged in the name of Charles Darby—I handed the ticket to Goodwin.
ALICE ELIZABETH BALDWIN . I am the wife of Frederick Baldwin, and live at Catford—my sister Beatrice was married to William John Darby, who was a grocer at 22, Wyndham Road, Camberwell—I last saw them alive about the middle of November—they had only one child, a girl, born on September 28th—they lived quite alone in the house—on November 29th I received a letter from my sister—I wrote her a reply by return of post—I did not get any reply to it—on December 3rd, I went to 22, Wyndham Road, I got there about 6.45 p.m.—I went into the shop, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin; they said the man who had bought the shop was coming, and I said I would wait as I could not understand it—the prisoner came in—I talked to him for nearly an hour—I said I could not understand the shop being sold so quickly, but I knew that my brother-in-law was going to sell the business—he said, "Oh, I first negotiated with Mr. Darby on Saturday morning; I was so satisfied with the business, I have paid £30 on deposit, and if Mr. Darby comes in I will settle with him then"—I waited some long time, the prisoner said he was expected every moment and asked me to have a chair—I said, "No, thank you," and after a time, I said, "I cannot wait any longer"—he said, he could not understand why Mr. Darby had not been in—I said I had come in answer to my sister's letter—he said, "Oh, yes, they had a little baby, had not they?" and that he thought that Mrs. Darby was a very nice Lady—I said, "Where have they gone, did not they leave any address?"—he said, "They did not leave any address, they were simply going to friends"—I left the house about 8.30 or 8.45—on December 29th, in consequence of a police telegram—I went to 89, Church Road, Leyton—I went all over the house—all the—furniture and wearing apparel and movables that I saw there. I recognised as having belonged to my sister and her husband—this brown over-coat (Produced) I recognise as my brother-in-law's, and these two gold rings (Produced) as my sister's—I went through the articles on this list with the police, and recognised them as belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Darby—at 89, Church Road, I went through this list, and with the exception of a few articles, which I have marked with an asterisk, I recognise everything as belonging to my sister—on December 31st I went to the
mortuary at Leyton, where I was shown three bodies, which I recognised as my brother-in-law's, my sister's, and her child's—at Camberwell Police Station, I saw a book case which I recognised belonging to the Darbys.
Cross-examined. The prisoner came in about half or three-quarters of an hour after I got to the shop—he did not shake hands with me—he flushed when I said I was Mrs. Baldwin, and had come to see my sister—beyond that he did not seem to be anxious to get me to go—he was not with me all the time that I was there—he was in and out of the shop parlour—he did not offer to take me upstairs—I asked him if they had taken the furniture—he said, "No, it is locked up upstairs"—he said that Mr. Darby had been there the night before—when I left I did not make arrangements to come back again, because I thought they had gone to my father's or to Mr. Darby's—the prisoner said he was certainly going to see Mr. Darby at the end of the week to settle up the matter of the money—he did not say where he was going to see him—when I left the house I had no suspicion that this terrible thing had happened—I did not know why the prisoner flushed when I spoke to him, it might have been from walking, or a lot of things—when he was talking to me he was pleasant and affable—I did not notice any fear in his manner.
ARTHUR PEARSON LUFF . F.R.C.P. I am lecturer at St. Mary's Hospital—on January 4th, with Inspector McCarthy, I visited 22, Wyndham Road and examined some stains there on the floor, walls, and window upstairs—on the right of the fireplace in the front room, upstairs, there were several blood stains which had been projected from a living artery or arteries, and facing towards the fireplace, they had been projected from left to right—they were entirely on the right side of the fireplace and there were also several underneath the mantelshelf, but none on the top of it—having regard to the stains on the mantelshelf, the person was probably sitting on the left side of the fireplace, facing the window—there were several bloodstains at two different levels on the wall between the fireplace and the window, which also had all been projected from an artery or arteries during life—those on the lower level were simply a continuation of the spurts or stains on the fireplace, those on the higher level must have been caused while the person was standing up—on the window sash, and on the lower part of the window blind, there were bloodstains, and there were a few bloodstains on one of the lowest panes of the window, and the lowest part of the blind—there were two very large stains on the floor one in front of the fireplace, and the other in front of the left window—outside the door at the head of the staircase there is a small landing with three doors opening from it—on the outer side of the door of the front room there were several blood stains which had been projected from arteries or an artery, during life—on the outer side of the door of the bedroom facing the front door, there were also some blood stains, which had been projected from an artery or arteries during life, and which had been slightly washed—the stains on the front-room door came on it when it was closed or partly closed, but in all probability closed—on the floor of the back
bedroom there were two large stains, more or less covered over by means of ink—I removed some of the panals of the doors of both rooms and a pane of glass—I examined them by the chemical and microscopical tests, they all contained evidence of having on them mammalian blood, which had been shed from four to six or eight weeks—the first article was examined on January 5th, and the last on January 19th—I saw two sash-weights—No. 5 was the one which was used—I was informed that it was brought from 22, Wyndham Road—on the hanging end, I found a quantity of a dark red stain which I found to consist of mammalian blood, which on January 5th was from four to six weeks old, and sticking to it by one end was a single hair which I have now with me—I requested the police to bring me samples of the hair from the heads of William John and Beatrice Darby—I compared those with the single hair on the sash-weight, and found that it was exactly similar to the hair of William John Darby—on January 6th, I received this saw (Produced) from Detective Sergeant Milton, it was found at Wyndham Road—I examined it on the 9th, and found a few stains of mammalian blood upon it—I received a scarf which I was informed was found in the back bedroom at Wyndham Road, and a shoe which was found in a cupboard in the front room—the scarf was simply saturated with mammalian blood, from five to seven weeks old, and on the inner side of the heel of the shoe there was one blood stain, also from five to seven weeks old—on January 4th, I went to Carter Street Police Station, and was shown a book case or wardrobe, on the right edge of which and about 15 inches from the top I saw some hair sticking in a dark clot—I removed it, the clot consisted of mammalian blood four to six weeks old, and the hair was identical with William John Darby's—I also saw the top of a round table that had some stains on it—I had two pieces of the table sawn away, the stains were blood stains—on January 4th, a hair net was given to me by the police at 22, Wyndham Road, in the front room—there was some hair and a comb with it, I compared them with samples given me, and it was similar to that of Beatrice Darby's.
Cross-examined. I should imagine that the attack on these unfortunate people was a very ferocious one—I have given evidence in a large number of legal cases—we group the predisposing causes of insanity into mental and moral ones—heredity and stress may be predisposing causes, but I do not think you can bring them all into two groups—there are very many types of insanity—if on the maternal side of a family you can trace insanity for some time past, that might be a predisposing cause to insanity in an individual, but I should require to know the extent of it if I was reporting to an Asylum—if it began with the prisoner's grandfather's sister, and was traced to the brother of the prisoner's mother, and then to two or three of the prisoner's nieces, that would be a close connection of insanity in the family—if I had to report on a case like that, I should report that those were possibly predisposing causes—if it was undoubted insanity, and radiated to nieces and sisters in a collateral way, it would be stronger than missing a generation—if there is a depression at the back of the prisoner's head which was the result of an accident some years ago, it might come under the head of stress, but—I cannot say without examining it—
if there was a depressed fracture of the skull, that might be so; assuming that to be so, the thickening of the bone might lead to atrophy of brain—pressure of the brain might possibly lead to insanity, which you might discover by symptoms, or the X Rays—I do not think you could discover it by touch or feeling—insanity sometimes skips a generation—I know the facts of this case; from my experience, I should not say that many of the acts in it are those of a person of unsound mind—I do not know that I should consider the weapon with which the murder was committed is a very extraordinary one—it is a very effective one—I should think a weapon of this kind is a very easy thing to obtain, as they are to be found in every house—I cannot say that I have ever heard of a sash-weight having been used before for such a crime—looking at the case from an ordinary point of view, one would say that to commit these wholesale murders would be scarcely worth the while—I should not say that the doing of it is an indication of insanity—I have been connected with similar cases, where over-anxiety about detection has not been noticed in persons who were described as sane, and who were never found to be to the contrary; in those cases insanity was set up as a defence, but two of them were not successful—a sane person is not always over anxious, it depends on temperament, many people are callous without being insane—I do not think it is an indication of insanity to commit wholesale murder, there is no reason why a man who does so should not be insane, but I should like to know the facts of the case before I decided—it is decidedly exceptional to meet with a case of wholesale murder—I can recollect a case in which there were two murders committed, but never three in my personal experience—it is very common in cases of insanity, for an insane person to be controlled and influenced by the same motives which actuate persons who are sane, but 99 per cent of the cases of insanity are not insane altogether, they have got many sane sides—violent impulses to acts of murder or homicidal attacks may be dormant in an individual for a long time without showing outside expression—a person may not show to the outside world evidence of the conflict going on inside his mind, and there may not be any such conflict—those people may have uncontrollable destructive impulses, but whether the person knows' the difference between right and wrong at the time is the debatable point—there are some eminent medical men who hold that insane persons may commit an act knowing it to be wrong, but are unable to control the impulse to commit it—there are some cases in which the act itself is the chief evidence of mental disorder in the individual—in the majority of eases of homicidal mania, the person who commits the act does not seek to obliterate all traces of the crime, they are quite indifferent to the traces—my experience of criminals is that indifference as to concealing the act is a characteristic of insanity—I should say that in the majority of undoubted cases of insanity persons are indifferent as to obliterating traces of the crime when acts of this sort are committed—persons do not always show great calmness, but they do show absence of fear; they sometimes show great cunning and ingenuity, but at the same time they may be quite indifferent in effecting concealment and indifferent to the number of lives they take—I do not say that that is evidence of insanity,
but it is a frequent consequence; it is more likely to be associated with an unsound mind than with a sound one—I should say it is probably the case that an insane person committing a murder would not have accomplices, however colossal the scheme may be—an insane person suffering from a homicidal paroxysm might kill any number of persons, but so might a sane person—I do not say he would do so without a motive—I cannot say what is sufficient motive—a sane person committing an act which might forfeit his life, might not have a sufficient motive—I have known a few pounds be sufficient motive, and where there was no evidence of insanity; both the cases I was thinking of were murders done in trains, I believe both on the Brighton line: the murderer might not know the amount of money the victim had, but a person probably would not be carrying much money—I believe one was in a first class carriage.
Re-examined. Homicidal uncontrollable impulses are generally sudden—a person who is subject to them would not lay his plans some time before-hand—the plans would of course be just as suddenly arranged as the act—I have not examined the prisoner or his family history.
JAMES KNIGHT . I am an ironmonger of 168, Camberwell Road, and landlord of 22, Wyndham Road—John Darby was my tenant of those premises—I last saw him on Saturday, November 29th, about 10 p.m.—he made an appointment to meet me on Monday evening at my shop—he did not come, and I went down to Wyndham Road for his rent—I saw the prisoner, and told him I had called for the rent—he said he was the purchaser of the shop, and that he had paid a deposit for the premises—I asked for Mr. Darby—he said that he was not there—I said, "I had an appointment with Mr. Darby for Monday evening between 6 and 7"—he said that he could not understand why it was not kept, as he himself had made an appointment with Mr. Darby, and he had not kept it—I went there from day to day, and on occasions I was there twice a day—on December 3rd, I went there and told the prisoner he could not become my tenant, and that he had no right to pay the £30 deposit, and that I should not take him unless I saw Mr. Darby—to the best of my belief he said that he had seen Mr. Darby at 10 o'clock on Thursday night—I asked him why he had not brought him round to see me—he said, "Because it was too late"—I had previously told him if Mr. Darby called, he was to bring him round no matter what time it was—I put the matter into my broker's hands, and on the 10th made a distraint for rent—after the furniture was seized I locked the house up.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was always ready to see me when I called—I saw no reason not to accept him, except that he was not introduced by Mr. Darby; if Mr. Darby had been round to see me, I had no reason why I should not accept him—Darby was perfectly well known in the neighbourhood, but he had only been there six or seven months—the debt due to me was £2 18s. 4d.—I do not know the amount of the property taken away, Mr. Wyatt, the bailiff, must account for that; he cleared away everything there was there, with the exception of a few oddments—a sash-weight was found there afterwards—I do not know if it was there when we were—I believe it was found on the mantelpiece—
I did not notice that the prisoner was annoyed—I noticed nothing against him at all.
CHARLES WYATT . I am an estate agent of 247, Camberwell Road—on December 10th, I received instructions from Mr. Knight to distrain for rent at 22, Wyndham Road—I went there that day, and left a man in possession—I went there next day, and went up stairs—the door of the front room was locked—I forced it, and found a bookcase there, and a table—I took possession of them—I have since seen them at Carter Street Police Station—I saw a sash weight there.
ARTHUR FRANCIS BALLS . I am a clerk to Messrs. Bassett, house agents, of Lea Bridge Road—they had instructions to let 89, Church Road, Leyton, and on December 3rd, at 10.30 a.m. the prisoner called—he gave the name of Edgar Edwards, 5, Barnsbury Road, Islington—we asked for references, he gave them—we wrote to the persons whose names he gave, and received back these two letters (One from 22, Wyndham Road, dated December 3rd, and signed Wm. Darby., stated that Mr. Edwards had been a tenant of his for nearly two years, and the other signed G. Barton, 230, Graham Road, Hackney, stated that he had known Mr. Edwards 3 1/2 years)—the whole of those two letters is type written, including the signatures—the prisoner called again on December 5th—I told him he could have the house and gave him a note to Mr. Childs—he said that he should like to get in by Saturday, December 6th.
JANE BERESFORD . I am the wife of Samuel Beresford—we keep a news-agent's shop at 230, Graham Road, Hackney—we have lived there about five years—I do not know anybody named Barton there—we take in letters—I do not remember any letters coming there in that name.
FREDERICK DUNCAN . I keep a news agent's shop at 5, Barnsbury Road—I take in letters addressed to strangers there—I remember two letters coming addressed to Edgar Edwards—nobody called for them—I gave them to the police.
THOMAS CHILDS . I live at 77, Church Road, Leyton, and at the beginning of December I had the keys of No. 89—I remember the prisoner coming with an order to look at the house—I afterwards saw him there again, he had a small butcher's cart with him—I cannot fix the dates.
SARAH SUMMERS . I live at 22, Grafton Terrace, Hampstead—I have known the prisoner for years by the name of Owen—I have a son by him aged fourteen years—on November 26th the prisoner came to see me—I had not seen him for nearly five years—he did not tell me where he was living on the first day—I saw him again on the 27th and 28th he told me he had taken a shop and bought some furniture for it, and on the 28th he told me he wanted me to come and look after it—he said he was going to open it on Saturday the 29th, that the rooms were upstairs, but there was one room we should not be able to go into for some time—he made an appointment for me to go to the shop, but he sent a telegram saying he could not go—on December 10th, in consequence of a telegram that he sent me, I met him at Broad Street Station, I think about 8 p.m.—he told me he was going to show me the house he had taken—he had written me a letter saying he had taken a house in the country—we went to 89, Church
Road, Leyton, we stayed there that night—next day I saw Jones there—I looked over the house I went into the front and back bedrooms—I did not go into the room on the stairs—I opened the door in the evening when it was dark, but I did no go inside, the prisoner was there when I opened the door—I do not think he said anything, because I do not think he knew I went—when I went into the back room, he said, "Come out, there is nothing there for you to see"—I saw a box there, I left the shop with Jones and the prisoner—I parted from the prisoner at Broad Street—nothing was arranged about meeting again, and I never saw the prisoner again—he said he was going to finish furnishing the house, and as soon as that was done, I was to go there.
Re-examined. I have known the prisoner more than fifteen years—the longest period that I have seen him daily, or nearly daily, is, I think, three or four months.
Cross-examined. I know all the prisoner's people—there was only one room in the house that I was not allowed to go into.
GEORGE SUSHAM .—I am twelve years old, and live at 59, Crown Street, Camberwell, with my parents—one side of our house faces 22, Wyndham Road—one evening, I think it was December 8th, when I came home from school, I saw a pony and trap at the side gate of the house—I come home from school at 4.30 and have tea as soon as I get in—I saw the cart before I had tea—I saw the hunchback man Goodwin and the prisoner there—I saw two sacks put separately on the trap—I could not see what was in them, the prisoner carried them out, they looked heavy.
Cross-examined. Goodwin was there all the time that I was watching—I was not there when any furniture was brought out—I am quite sure the prisoner was there, he had a velvet collar to his overcoat—I did not see his face—I was standing almost next to Goodwin.
CHARLES SHEPHERD . I went with Goodwin to 22, Wyndham Road, to help load a van—I do not remember the date—I went into the back room—Goodwin was outside all the time—only furniture was put into the van while I was there.
AGNES HICKMAN , I live at 101, Ampthill Road, Bow, and am employed at the post office in Whitechapel Road—this telegram was handed to me at 5.15 p.m. on December 9th—I do not remember who it was who handed it to me.
WILLIAM JONES . I live at the Working Man's Home, Commercial Street—I have known the prisoner for fifteen years—on December 9th I met him at the corner of Osborn Street—I saw him go into the post office, and followed him there—I saw him write a telegram and hand it over the counter—he told me to stop a minute or two and he would speak to me—he then told me he had sent a telegram to tell somebody to come and fetch the van home, as he said a policeman or somebody had stopped him and wanted to know where his light was, and that he had put the van up at some stables somewhere handy, but did not say where—he asked
me how long it would take for people to come over from Camberwel.'—I told him about a couple of hours—we then went and had drinks together to pass the time until he thought the people would have come for the van—he said, "I will give you 1s. to get me a sash weight in the morning"—at the last house we had a drink at he said, "They have turned up it is all right, they have taken the van on"—we then went to the doctor's in Leman Street and got the prisoner's hand dressed, and arranged to meet next day at Bethnal Green Junction—he gave me 1s. to get the sash weight, which I got—it was like this 5 lbs. one—I met him next morning at 10.45 a.m. at Bethnal Green Junction—we got into the train and went to Stratford, and then walked to Leyton—he said he wanted me to clean some windows—we went to 89. Church Road—I put the sash weight down on the cupboard—while cleaning the windows I did not notice that any of them had a sash weight missing—I saw a man digging in the garden—when I was going away in the evening the prisoner gave me this brown overcoat (Produced), and said "Put that on" (Identified as Darby's)—when we got to the station, and when he was booking to Liverpool Street, he gave me 1s. 6d.—before we went to the station he gave me a suit of clothes to pawn—he tied them up himself—I pawned them with William Sutton at 344, High Street, and got this ticket from him dated December 10th—I gave the money to the prisoner and he asked me for the ticket—I handed it to him—he said, "You may as well keep that"—I gave it to the police—we went to Liverpool Street together—next day I went down to Leyton again to finish the window cleaning and clean the bath and water closet.—I saw Summers there that day.
Cross-examined. On the second day I did not see anybody there except Summers and the prisoner—on the first day I saw someone else, but not upstairs.
ELIZABETH RAWLINGS . I am the wife of Joseph James Rawlings, and live at 79, Church Road. Leyton—on Friday, December 3rd, the prisoner came to my door and asked if Mr. Rawlings was in—I said yes, and sent my husband to the door—I saw a pony and trap there—my husband afterwards did some digging for the prisoner—I saw the prisoner with a trap also on the 8th and 9th.
JOSEPH JAMES RAWLINGS . I am a labourer of 79, Church Road. Leyton; the prisoner and Childs came to my house and asked me to do some digging in the garden at 89, Church Road—the prisoner asked me to do the garden plainly all over—I did so from bottom to top—I worked there on Saturday Monday, and Tuesday—on Tuesday, about 12 a.m., some goods arrived in a little pony cart; there were about half a dozen boxes with old books and one box with old clothes in it—I helped to carry them in—one of the boxes was very heavy—it was a basket box—I could not see what was in it—the prisoner did not say what was in them—he came with the next lot in a little pony and van—there were two wooden boxes and a big tin trunk—I carried them upstairs—I said. "That one is very heavy"—I meant the tin trunk; he said, "Oh, that is only valuable crockery."
at 89—I saw Mr. Rawlings helping to unload it—I cannot fix the date—about the following week I was at my bedroom window at the back of the house—I saw the prisoner digging a hole in his garden; it was a round hole; he was standing in it—I could only see his head from the window—next time I looked out, which I think was the next day or the day after that, the hole was closed up.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was digging the hole in the morning—I did not know he was our next door neighbour till he came and told me so.
WILLIAM SILBY . I am assistant to Messrs Grisnett and Walker, pawn-brokers, of 2, Merrow Street, Walworth Road—on December 6th, two gold rings were pledged with us by Goodwin—this is the ticket I issued in respect to that pledge—the rings were pledged in the name of W. J. Darby, 22, Wyndham Road—I produce the rings.
HARRY ELLIOTT . I am assistant to Mr. William Sutton, pawnbroker, of. 344, High Road, Leyton,—on December 10th a suit of clothes was given to me by a man giving the name of Jones; this is the ticket I issued—I have identified Jones—on December 20th I took in a clock and ornament; this is the ticket—the prisoner pledged those articles.
HARRY DARBY (Re-examined.) I identify this watch and these books produced by Solomon as my brother's, also the suit of clothes and the clock and ornament produced by Elliot as belonging to my brother—these are some letters which were written to me by my brother.
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting, and have had many years' experience—these exhibits, 8 and 9, which are proved by Goodwin to have been written in his presence by the prisoner, I have compared with this contract note as to a gold watch and chain signed "W. T., Louden"—in my opinion that signature is in the same writing as exhibits 8 and 9.
WILLIAM HATCHER . I am a business transfer agent of lavender Hill—on December 3rd the prisoner called on me; he gave the name of William Darby of 22, Wyndham Road, Camberwell—he wanted to buy a stationery and tobacconist's business—I gave him several addresses—I received this post card from him on December 8th.
WALTER YOUNG (Inspector J.) On December 23rd I was at Leyton police-station when the prisoner was searched—on him I found a pawn-ticket—the same evening I went to 89, Church Road, with Sergeant Melville, where I found some more pawn tickets in a case bearing the name of Darby—on my return to the prisoner I said, "Are you Darby?"—he replied,. "No, that is a friend I am buying the business for. "Meaning Garland's business—he was then in custody on a charge of maliciously wounding John Garland.
GEORGE MELVILLE (Detective Sergeant J.) On December 23rd. in the evening, I went to 89, Church Road—in the upstairs room I found a number of cards bearing the name of Darby, also some pawn tickets—on December 29th I went there with Mrs. Baldwin and showed her the clothing and furniture, which she identified—on December 30th I went to 22, Wyndham Road, and searched the premises—I found a sash weight on the mantelpiece in the back room—there was a quantity of what appeared
to be blood and hair on one end—I handed it to Dr. Luff in the same condition that I found it—I found some blood stains in the front and back room—the house was locked up—Mr. Knight let me in—on January 8th I found three keys in a dressing-table drawer in the front room at 89, Church Road, and on January 10th I took them to 22, Wyndham Road—I found they fitted the door leading from the front to the back parlours and also the door leading to the stairs, and another key fitted the front bedroom door.
Cross-examined. When I found the sash weight the blood was slightly more damp than it is now—it had not been washed.
THOMAS HUGHES (87 J.) On December 30th, acting on instructions, I examined the back garden at 89, Church Road, Leyton—I found a soft place there—I dug down about 4 ft. 6 in. when I found six sacks and a bundle—I sent for Dr. Jekyll—he examined the sacks and their contents.
LEWIS NUGENT JEKYLL . I live at Kingsbury House, Leytonstone, and am divisional police surgeon for the district—on December 30th I was called to 89, Church Road, where I saw six sacks containing the dismembered bodies of a man and woman, the heads and limbs had been cut off, I also saw the body of a child, which was intact, the heads were quite recognisable, the cause of death was due to injury to the heads in the cases of the man and woman, and in the case of the child to strangulation, there was a handkerchief tied tightly round its neck—there were extensive fractures to the skulls of the man and woman—there had been three or four blows delivered—the face of the woman had been smashed in, and there had also been a blow on the back of each of their heads—the serious blows had been struck from the front—the blows on the back of the heads were not of a serious nature, they might have been done in falling—the bodies had been dismembered by means of a saw.
Cross-examined. I should say that in each of the two cases the cause of death was from a blow which had been delivered from the front—I cannot say if it was the first blow or not—the blows were undoubtedly tremendous and ferocious.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Inspector L.) On December 30th I visited 22, Wyndham. Road—among other things I found there a hair-net and a comb lying on the floor—I handed them to Dr. Luff—I noticed the ceiling of the shop, blood had oozed through from the floor above—I took to Dr. Luff parts of the wall paper, the floor, and the door panels—I also showed him a bookcase.
HERBERT MILTON (Inspector L.) On January 30th I visited 22, Wyndham Road—I found a silk scarf in a grate in the back bedroom—I found an empty ink-bottle in the back room, ink stains on the floor and blood stains underneath the ink—I found two saws covered up in the shop with newspaper, also a lady's shoe, which was shown to Dr. Luff.
Cross-examined. The other shoe was found at Leyton.
"Now, Edgar Edwards, otherwise Louden, you will be charged with the wilful murder of William John Darby, Beatrice Darby, and Ethel Beatrice, their child, on or about November 29th, supposed to be at 22, Wyndham Road, Camberwell"—he said, "My dear Sir, I know nothing about it"—he was then charged and said, "Good goodness"—he was taken before the Court and the charge was read over by the Chairman of the Bench—in reply the prisoner said, "Surely, Sir, there is some great mistake"—he was then remanded on the charge on which he was in custody.
Cross-examined. The assault on me took place on December 23rd—I was at the prisoner's house at Leyton to discuss some business matters with him—I was with him several hours—he paced about a great deal and apologised for keeping me waiting—there was nothing in his manner to cause me to fear him in the slightest—his attack was absolutely unprovoked, and took place in a moment—he gave me a very severe blow, it almost knocked the senses out of me, and it was followed by a number of blows rained upon me while I was on the ground—in another moment he might have killed me—towards the end of the attack he tried to force a handkerchief or cloth into my mouth—he was almost exhausted by the force of his own blows—he began to show signs of fatigue—I had a hat on at first—I cannot say when I lost it—I was taken away from the house—I think the prisoner might have attacked me at any other time while I was in the house—we were on perfectly good terms—I found him a pleasant man—I did not know what became of him after the attack.
By MR. MUIR. While I was in" the house the prisoner said he was expecting a man who he had left at Clapton to do about an hour's work: he never arrived.
By the COURT. He had been discussing buying a business from me—he asked me if I had anyone at home, and I told him no.
Evidence for the Defence.
JOSEPH WILLIAM DUFFIELD . I live at 1, Palace Gate Mansions, and am a plumber and decorator—according to the prisoner's statement I am the prisoner's uncle, but I have not seen him for thirty or forty years, when he was ten or twelve years old—if he is the man he says he is I married his mother's sister—if he is the man he says he is his correct name is Edwin Owen—his mother's brother, whose name was George, lived and died a lunatic—he lived for many years with the prisoner's mother—the father of the prisoner's mother "had a married sister who had been in an Asylum, and who never regained her faculties—my daughter is at present in a private asylum, this is the name of it on this receipt for last quarter's charges—I have two other daughters who are now in a precarious position as to their mental health—I do not know what the result will be to them when they hear this horrible tale—I have sent one out of town to get out of the way this week—I knew the prisoner's father, he died a confirmed dipsomanic—he squandered in drink the fortunes of his wife, his own two sisters, and his mother.
Cross-examined. My wife's name was Eliza Sarah Freeman—her father's name was Henry Freeman, and the prisoner's mother's name
was Helen Freeman—I knew my wife's father—he was of perfect mind all through his life—he had three sons and three daughters—the third daughter's name was Caroline—she was the lunatic—she left the Asylum some years before her death and resided at home with her children.
Evidence in Reply.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer for Brixton Prison—the prisoner has been detained there since December 24th—he was put under close observation on January 1st—I have specially directed my attention to the state of his mind—I have seen nothing to indicate insanity.
Cross-examined. I had some written statements as to the prisoner's family history, but I had no means of testing them—I have examined the prisoner, the shape of his head is somewhat peculiar, one part is more prominent, with a slight depression on each side—he says he had a fall about fifteen years ago—there might be some thickening of the bone, which might cause local pain—it would not necessarily affect his brain—it might lead to some affection of the brain but not necessarily to atrophy—cases where wholesale murders are committed are unusual—there might be strong original taint where insanity runs in collateral branches of a family—indifference to human life is frequently shown in cases of homicidal mania—insane men often use the same methods and have the same motives as sane men—they show a good deal of cunning and ability in concocting their schemes—people who become insane often have colossal schemes, the mind in a way is always at work; schemes which would be impossible to a sane man—a person might be suffering from homicidal mania and not show any outward signs that he is likely to commit a terrible crime-homicidal impulses would not last over any length of time—it is possible, but not usual for homicidal mania to return with uncontrollable impulse—cases of so called homicidal impulses are not numerous—no murderer is normal, and it is very seldom that the motive for the murder is adequate—a murderer is a departure from absolute soundness, although not legally insane—I should not necessarily describe him as mentally weak—my opinion is that in this case there are things which a man who was in possession of his faculties might do.
Re-examined. If there had been any thickening of the bone of the skull affecting the brain I should have expected to find symptoms of it—I found no symptoms of insanity in this case.
By the COURT. I have had considerable experience of observing people, some of whom have turned out insane and some sane—I have had over twenty years of prison service.
The Prisoner. "Now get on with it as quick as you like."
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY MARCH 9TH, 1903.