CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EIGHTH SESSION, HELD MAY 18TH, 1903.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER.
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
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COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, May 18th, 1903, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. SIR MARCUS SAMUEL , Knight, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WILLIAM GRANTHAM ., Knight, 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., Knight, K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR., Knight, 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.
Sir THOMAS HENRY BROOKE-HITCHING, Knt.
ALFRED PERCY DOULTON., Esq., J.P.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SAMUEL, MAYOR. EIGHTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, May 18th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LEYCESTER. Prosecuted and MR. WARBURTON. Defended.
The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict, and the trial postponed. (See page 755).
449. ALFRED ROBERT KING (62), PLEADED GUILTY . to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a match box the property of the Postmaster-General . Nine months' hard labour —
(450) WILLIAM HENRY STONE (36) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing two postal orders for 20s. and 2s. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(451) SAMUEL BAKER (44) , to forging and uttering a receipt for 11s. with intent to defraud; also to converting to his own use and benefit £1 with which he had been entrusted, having been convicted of felony at Exeter on October 3rd, 1902, as Frank Davis . Five other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. #x2014; [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(452) WILLIAM LEE (30), ALFRED JAMES SMITH (20) FREDERICK MURRAY (29), and HARRY KING (27) , to stealing and receiving nineteen envelopes, and nineteen pieces of paper, and four orders for the payment of £75 2s. 3d., £7 10s., £7 4s. Sd., and £4 2s., the property of Henry Nestle, LEE† having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on December 20th, 1900, as William Taverner;SMITH† at this Court on September 10th, 1901, as Alfred James Morgan; MURRAY at Clerkenwell on January 15th, 1901, as Arthur Wilson; and KING at Clerkenwell on June 6th, 1900, as George Williams. Ten previous convictions were proved against Lee, five against Smith, eight against Murray, and nine against King. LEE,. Eight years' penal servitude; SMITH, MURRAY, and KING, Five years' penal servitude each. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(453) JOHN WILSON (22) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of James Ramsey, and stealing a butcher's steel, his property; also to burglary in the dwelling-house of Alfred William Howard with intent to steal therein having been convicted of felony at Reading on January 5th, 1900, as John Sharman . Three other convictions were-proved against him. Four years' penal servitude — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(454) HENRY HAWTHORNE (33) , to forging and uttering three orders for the payment of £7, £7 10s., and £3 10s. with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony at West Ham on April 18th, 1902. Two other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]and
(455) ELIZABETH STEWART (45) , to forging and uttering a receipt for £4 10s. with intent to defraud; also to forging a notice of withdrawal for £4 10s. from the Post Office Savings Bank. She received a good character. Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 18th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MUIR., for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
(458) EDWARD MORRIS (38) , to maliciously damaging a plate glass window, value £20, the property of the Non-Treadover Boot Company, Limited . Six months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]and
(459) ABRAHAM SIMONS POONS (25) , to three indictments for stealing bicycles, and to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on June 4th, 1901. (See next case.) [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
460. The said ABRAHAM SIMONS POONS was again indicted with HENRY LEIGH (25) , for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Davis, and stealing a cash box, a watch, and other articles, and £2 in money.
MR. HORNSBY., for the prosecution, offered no evidence against POONS.
NOT GUILTY .
MARY ELIZABETH DAVIES . I am the wife of Thomas Davies, of 100, Boland Road, Stoke Newington—I went out on Good Friday about 6 o'clock, and when I came home the house had been broken into—I missed several articles and this cheque book (Produced).
WILLIAM MCARTHUR . (Police Sergeant.) I am stationed at Stoke Newing-ton—I went to 110, St. Ann's Road, Tottenham, and saw Poons—he handed me this cheque book, and in consequence of what he told me I went to King Street, Haggerston, where I saw Leigh—I told him I was a police officer and must take him to St. Ann's Road, where a man was detained who had made a statement relating to a cheque book, stating that it was the proceeds of a housebreaking at 100, Boland Road on Good Friday; he said, "I don't know anything about it"—on the way to the station on passing Poons' house I said to him, "That is Poons' house"—he said,
"That is where he gave me the cheque book; I have never been in that house in my life"—at the Police Station Poons made this statement, which was taken down in Leigh's presence: "On Sunday, April 12th, Toby Leigh came to my house, 111, St. Ann's Road, Tottenham, and said, 'Look here, I have found this book; it is no use to me, you may be able to do something with it'; he handed it to me. I never did any housebreaking."
The prisoner Leigh. He is lying.
The Common Serjeant considered that it would not be right to convict Leigh upon such evidence.
LEIGH, NOT GUILTY .
POONS, who was stated to be rather weak minded, Eighteen months.
MR. BEARD. Prosecuted.
ALFRED SMITH . I am a gas fitter of 32, Station Road—on April 21st I went to East Passage, Long Lane, where I was doing some work—I put my bicycle into the store room on the ground floor at 9 a.m.—I locked the door of the room and left the key with Mr. Hall—I returned about 7 o'clock and found the door closed but not fastened—the bicycle was gone—I have not seen it since.
FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS HALL . I am a plumber, of 84, Long Lane, and occupy the ground floor of the house in East Passage—the prosecutor had leave to put his bicycle there—he brought me the key, and I went there between 3 and 3.30 and the bicycle was there then—I locked it up and went home with the key till Smith came for it in the evening.
CHARLES JOHNSON . I am fourteen years old and live at 52, Granville Buildings, Duke Street, Finsbury—I am an oilman's assistant—I knew the prisoner before this, but not by name—on April 22nd, about '5.30 p.m., I saw him with a new black bicycle in East Passage going towards Cloth Fair, where I lost sight of him—some minutes afterwards I saw him without the bicycle, and asked him what he had done with it—he said that he gave it to another man—I was alone—I afterwards went to the police station and picked him out.
Gross-examined by the prisoner. You had on the waistcoat and coat you have on now—I did not notice your trousers—I have seen you near the Red Cow, but never saw you working there.
By the COURT. He was not on the bicycle in the court, he was wheeling it—I did not notice his boots—he lives at 5, East Passage—I do not live close by, but this was at the back of the shop where I work—I have seen the prisoner two or three times, always close by East Passage, and have seen him coming out of No. 5—I did not address him by name when I asked him what he had done with the bicycle—I had never seen him with a bicycle before—I did not know that it had been put in the store room.
EDWARD JACKSON . I am twelve years old and live at 22, Cloth Fair—on April 22nd, about 2.30 p.m., I saw the prisoner in Bartholomew Close, about three minutes' walk from East Passage, wheeling a bicycle up
Cockane's Buildings, away from Cloth Fair—I knew him as the potman at the Red Cow—a person passing from the Passage must pass Cockane's Buildings first; I saw him come round the corner, and he took the lamp from the bicycle—I saw another man, and they both went into a house, got a shop, on the left side, with the bicycle—I did not see them come out—I picked the prisoner out at the police station on the Saturday; I knew him before—he had on on April 22nd the same clothes as he has now—Fred Drew was with me.
Cross-examined. Baldwin said: "I believe that man stole that bicycle"—I picked you out from my own knowledge—the schoolmaster did not tell me to pick you out as being the tallest man—I have known you eighteen months.
FREDERICK DREW . I am thirteen years old, and live at 6, Bartholomew Houses, Cloth Fair—on April 22nd I was with Jackson in Bartholomew Close, and saw the prisoner and another man with a bicycle, which he took into a house in Cockane's Buildings—I knew him as potman at the Red Cow—he had on light clothes, and at the station the same coat and waistcoat, but a different muffler—I also know him by his face.
Cross-examined. I saw your face as you came from the door of the school about fifteen minutes' walk off—I have seen other people wheeling bicycles there—no one has put me up to saying what I have said.
HARRY WALDEN . I am thirteen years old, and live at 4, Bridgwater Houses, Barbican—I was with Drew and Johnson on April 22nd, and saw the prisoner with a bicycle—he fell down—I knew him; he lived in our house six months.
Cross-examined. I knew you eighteen months ago—I was asked if I had seen a man with a bicycle, and I and the others said that we had—I saw your face when you passed with the bicycle, and recognised you at the time.
Re-examined. The schoolmaster asked the boys if they saw a man with a bicycle, and I said Yes—I did not give any name—I think the prisoner had been drinking.
WILLIAM STACEY . I am thirteen years old, and live at 82, Bartholomew Close—I was with Drew and the other boys, and saw the prisoner wheeling a bicycle—he fell down, and I thought he was drunk, by the way he was walking—I had seen him before, and picked him out from others at the station.
Cross-examined. I knew you by your face—I had seen you before at the Red Cow.
FREDERICK HALLAM . (City Police Sergeant.) On Saturday, March 25th, I saw the prisoner at the station—I told him he would be charged with stealing a bicycle on April 22nd—he said, "You have made a mistake; I can't ride a bicycle, and I don't even think I could push one along. I was in bed all the afternoon, and can prove it"—the spot where the boy says he fell, is only a few yards from East Passage—Cockane's Buildings is close to where he fell—he lives at 5, East Passage, on the top floor, and the bicycle was stolen from the ground floor.
third floor—the prisoner and his wife lived on that floor—I know this store-room—I had not been very well, and on Wednesday, April 22nd, the prisoner's wife came into my room and sat talking there for about twenty minutes—while we were talking the prisoner came into the room—I was lying ill in bed, and he asked me if I would have something to drink—I said, "No"—he had been drinking a little—he had his boots on—after 3.30 I heard somebody go out—it was a heavy tread—I heard the door slam, and two minutes afterwards I heard a crash like wood breaking—a quarter of an hour after that I heard the same step come up to the top floor—the prisoner is a big man, and I know his step.
EDWARD STEWART . (Examined by the COURT). I am a painter and lime-whiter—on April 22nd I got home at 5.20—a child spoke to me as I was going in, and I went to the top of the court and found a bicycle in the yard, which did not belong to me—I delivered it to a man who came and asked for it—I do not know his name, but I know him well—it was in the yard of No. 6—I have seen bicycles there before, and have had one there myself three months—they are left there to be repaired—I do not know the man who took it to my house.
By MR. BEARD. I knew the man before who I gave the bicycle to, and I should know him again—I told the Magistrate that I knew him but did not know his name—I call him a casual acquaintance—his nick name is Bowery—I judged that it was second hand by the shape of the handle—I have been convicted of receiving—I could have got the prisoner out of trouble, but Detective Sergeant Mahon has been up to my place and given me a very bad name—it was a little girl about 9 1/2 who spoke to me—she did not say who put the bicycle there.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent. I was upstairs. My wife can prove what time I went to work. I have never been charged before in my life. Here are my references for twelve years (Producing some letters.)
GUILTY .† Six months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 19th, 1903.
For the case of William Platel, tried this day, see Kent cases.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 19th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(463) THOMAS BUDD (39) and HARRY MARSHALL (30) , to stealing a rule and other tools, the property of Harry Harplin . BUDD. also to stealing two trowels and a rule the property of George Nevard, having been convicted of felony at Clerken-well on September 9th, 1902. Three other convictions were proved against Budd. Eighteen months hard labour. MARSHALL, nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(464) JOHN THOMAS (21), to burglary in the dwelling house of John Francis, and stealing 150 yards of silk and other articles his property. He received an excellent character. Two days' imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. PICKERSGILL. Prosecuted.
HUGH MACLEAN . (City Policeman.) On Saturday, April 11th, at 12.30 p.m., I was in Aldermanbury with Constable Gale, and saw the prisoners acting in a suspicious manner—we watched them, and followed them into Aldermanbury Avenue—they came back into Aldermanbury, where Webb handed something to Ford, which he took from his right-hand jacket pocket—I could not see what it was—Ford left Webb and went into the doorway of 50, Aldermanbury—the door folds back from the centre—he closed the left-hand half and apparently inspected the letter box—the door is left open during the day—we remained in the street—he came out and rejoined Webb, and they walked into Alderman-bury Avenue—it was in the Easter holidays, and there were very few people about—they stood talking for a little time, and then came back into Aldermanbury—Webb remained on the footway and Ford went into the doorway of No. 49—he Game out, and they walked into Alderman-bury Avenue—I inspected the letter box behind the door of 49, and found it had been tampered with—we followed them into London Wall, and said we were police officers, and should take them into custody—we took them to Moor Lane police station—they made no reply to the charge of being suspected persons—I searched Webb, but found nothing on him—he gave his address, 49, Amwell Street, Pentonville; that is a post office, and he is not known there—we were watching them for about twenty-five minutes—I was concealed in a warehouse whilst they were working on the two doors—I could see out of the window, and was about 100 yards from them.
Cross-examined by Webb. It was not 50 yards away.
GEORGE GALE . (City Policeman.) On Saturday, April 11th, about mid day, I was with Maclean in Aldermanbury—I saw the prisoners—they went into Aldermanbury Avenue—they came back, and Ford handed Webb something—Ford examined the letter box of 50, Alderman-bury Avenue, Webb apparently keeping watch outside—they loitered some time—Ford then went into the doorway of 49, Aldermanbury Avenue, and I saw him tampering with the letter boxes—they both walked into London Wall—Maclean examined the letter boxes; I kept watch on the prisoners—we then told them they would be taken to the station for tampering with the letter boxes—I searched Ford, and found upon him these four bills of exchange for £95 Os. 2d., £100, £17 4s. 9d., and £34 13s. 6d. (Produced), also this chisel, this broken knife with the champagne opener open, and these two street door keys (Produced)—in Webb's presence I said to Ford, "How do you account for these documents being in your possession?"—he said, "We got them from Hatton Garden
this morning"—I said, "Who do you mean by 'we'?"—he said, "Webb and myself, of course"—Webb said, "I am very glad none of those things were found on me."
Cross-examined. The conversation at the station took place in your presence—the inspector was present.
THOMAS DAVIS . (Police-Sergeant E.) I examined the letter box of 55, Hatton Garden—I found marks on it caused by some instrument forcing it—I compared this small chisel which was found, with the marks—they fitted exactly, as well as with marks on three or four letter-boxes in the vicinity.
ADOLPH BALTZER . I am secretary to Baer, Bechman and Co., Limited, 55, Hatton Garden—these four bills of exchange are drawn on my firm—they were sent by post—we have received numerous complaints from our customers—we never received these bills—they were shown to me by the police.
Webb's statement before the Magistrate. "I do not believe that Detective Gale has told the truth in his statement; William Ford says Detective Gale says I had an open knife on me; it was not open; Gale says I said me and Webb got the bills in Hatton Garden; that is a lie, Webb was not with me when I got the bills."
Evidence for the Defence.
WILLIAM STANGROOM (City Police Inspector.) I was on duty when the two prisoners were brought into the station—after the officers had stated the charge, I said to Maclean, "Did you see these two men to-gether?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Did you see them speaking to one another?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Are you sure?"—he said, "Yes"—Gale corroborated him—when the bills were taken from Ford, Gale said, "How did you get these?"—he said, "We got them from Hatton Garden this morning"—Gale said, "Who do you mean by 'we'?"—Ford said, "Webb, of course, and I"—they were then charged—the conversation took place before the dock where I was standing—I was very careful to connect Webb with Ford.
Webb, in his defence on oath, said that the evidence of the detectives and the inspector was untrue, as Ford had not said that they were together when he (Ford) got the bills, that he did not know he had got them, that they had not met that day until about 11 a.m., when they went for a walk round the City, and that he did not know what Ford was looking into the doorways for.
ALFRED COOMBER . I am a jewel-hole maker—Webb is my second son—we are eight in family—my wife is living—the prisoner lives at home—he was apprenticed to a cabinet maker, but his articles were cancelled, for stopping away from work—there have been two complaints about him, but his governor took him back after he cancelled his indentures—he will be twenty next September—he was receiving £1 a week when he left his governor.
WILLIAM FORD . (The prisoner.) I have pleaded guilty to this offence—when I got these bills of exchange Webb was not with me—I left 40, Northampton Road, Clerkenwell, about 9 a.m., where I was lodging with a friend—I work with my father, who is a dealer—I went for a walk—I stole the bills, and about an hour afterwards I met Webb—he did not know I had them on me until I was searched—I did not say at the police-station that Webb and I had got them from Hatton Garden that morning—I refused to tell Gale anything about the bills until the last.
A. COOMBER. (Re-examined.) My son was living at my house on April 11th—he was then out of employment—he left home about 8.45 a.m.—I saw him go out—my house is about fifteen minutes' walk from Hatton Garden—I always reckoned he went out to look for work.
A. BALTZER. (Re-examined.) As a rule we commence business at 9 a.m.—I am first to arrive at the office—I first of all take the letters from the letter box—on April 11th I arrived about 10.20, as it was Good Friday and there was no business—there were no letters there that morning. WEBB— GUILTY . Three months' hard labour. FORD,† against whom three previous convictions were proved; Nine months' hard labour.
MR. HARVEY. Prosecuted.
EMMA BAKER . I am the wife of William Baker, a warehouseman—the prisoner lodged with us for about twelve-months—he was with us on March 27th—I gave him £2 4s. to go to the office and pay the rates and taxes—when he came to us he was a porter at the Shoreditch workhouse, but he has been out of work for a long time—he had paid the rates for me on a previous occasion—they were to be paid to Mr. Barr, in Kingsland Road—I next saw the prisoner at Worship Street Police Court about four weeks afterwards.
RANDALL HODSON . (Detective G.) On April 24th I saw the prisoner at Salisbury; I took him in charge—I had a warrant and read it to him—he said, "I had the money, but I lost it, and I did not care to go back to Mrs. Baker, if I could have got the money I would have repaid her"—he is a Militiaman, that is why he was at Salisbury—he had only been there three or four days.
ALFRED BARR . I am a rate collector at Shoreditch—William Baker is on my list to pay rates—on March 27th £2 4s. was due—I did not receive that money on that day—Mrs. Baker came and made a communication to me.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had received the money; that he put it into his pocket, and when he got to the office it was gone; that he was ashamed to go back to Mrs. Baker; that he intended to go back or write to her, but did not.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, May 19th, 1903
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
467. CHARLES RICHARD VALENTINE PLEADED GUILTY . to attempting, after the presentation of a bankruptcy petition against him, to account for £700, part of his property, by fictitious entries. Four months without hard labour.
MR. BODKIN. Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL., K.C., and MR. C. W. MATHEWS appeared for Winkley; MR. HUTTON. defended Fish.
NOT GUILTY .
(For the cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.)
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, May 19th, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. TRICKETT. Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE. defended Brennan.
EDWARD THOMAS CROSS . I am a butcher—on the evening of April 2nd I was in the White Lion, High Street, Islington—I went there about 5 and stayed till about 8.30—in the bar I saw the two prisoners and three other men—they asked me to treat them, and I did so two or three times—during that time Garrett took three half-pence out of my right hand waistcoat pocket, looked at it and then put it back—I had £11 in a paper bag in my left hand trousers pocket, and some loose silver in the right pocket—I paid for the drink with the loose silver—when I left the White Lion I went into the Number One and had a glass of ale—I was not in there more than five minutes—I then went into the urinal in Sermon Lane—the prisoners and their companions followed me in—Garrett pinned my hands behind me while Brennan took the gold out of my pocket—they then made off—I went to Upper Street Police Station and gave information—on May 8th I was taken to Upper Street Police Station, where I identified Garrett from nine or ten other men—on the 11th I went there again and identified Brennan.
Cross-examined by Garrett. I do not know why you put the three half-pence back—I was quite sober.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I did not go into the George public-house—Brennan was with the other men in the White Lion—I did not know him before this night—he was wearing corduroys.
JAMES SMITH . (Detective-Sergeant N.) About 7.30 on the 8th inst. I saw Garrett at Snow Hill Police Station—I told him I should take him to Upper Street Police Station, where he would be put up for identification for stealing on April 2nd, in the urinal at Sermon Lane, £11 6s.—he said, "You know that is not my game, I generally like to have a shilling in my
pocket without that"—on the way to Upper Street he said, "It is a long while ago, I cannot remember where I was that day"—he was put with nine other men, and Cross at once identified him—he was charged, and in reply said, "He is drunk."
Cross-examined by Garrett. You were at work in the Meat Market when you were arrested—Cross was not drunk when he identified you.
WILLIAM HALL . (Policeman N.) On May 11th, I saw Brennan at King's Cross Road Police Station—I told him he would have to come with me to Upper Street Police Station on suspicion of robbing a man of £11 6s. in the urinal in Sermon Lane on April 2nd—he said, "I have heard about it, I am innocent; I know nothing at all about it"—I conveyed him to Upper Street—on the way he said, "You see how I am dressed, I want men the same as I am dressed"—he was put with nine other men, and Cross identified him—he was formally charged, and made no reply.
Garrett, in his defence on oath said that he knew nothing about the robbery, and that it was a case of mistaken identity.
Brennan, in his defence on oath, said that he was in the George public house with Kelly, when Cross came in with a man named Kennedy, and they all four had drink together; that when Cross went out, Kennedy followed him, but that he remained in the public house with Kelly; and never went into the urinal in Sermon Lane that night.
Evidence for Brennan's Defence.
JOHN KELLY . I am a shoeblack of 40, Payne Street, Copenhagen Street, Barnsbury—my stand is at the corner of Liverpool Road and Upper Street—on April 2nd, between 9 and 10 p.m., I remember being in the George public house with Brennan—the prosecutor, and a man named Kennedy came in, and the prosecutor stood us some drink—they stayed about half an hour, and then went out together—Brennan and I remained in the George for half an hour after Cross and Kennedy left.
Cross-examined by MR. TRICKETT. I have known Brennan for a good number of years—I do not know Cross—I had never seen him before.
Cross-examined by. Garrett. I do not know you, and have never been in your company.
NORA TIPLER . I am Brennan's sister, and live with him at 27, Rodney Street, Pentonville—on April 2nd, he was wearing a pair of dark tweed trousers, as I was washing his corduroys—he only has two pairs.
Cross-examined by Garrett. I do not know you, and have never seen you in my brother's company.
GUILTY . They then PLEADED GUILTY. to previous convictions, Garrett at Guildhall on March 30th, 1900, and Brennan at this Court on June 29th, 1891.—GARRETT, Twelve months' hard labour .—Seven other convictions were proved against BRENNAN, Two years' hard labour.
MR. MAHAFFY. Prosecuted; MR. FOWKE. appeared for Jacobs, and MR. ABINGER. for Sucker.
ALEXANDER COULTHARD . I live at 38, Argyle Square—three weeks ago I obtained my discharge from the Gordon Highlanders—on April 27th, after my discharge, I was in the Euston Road about 11 p.m.—I went into a public house, and there met a girl—she asked me to go outside with her—I went, and we walked along Judd Street and up a court behind Argyle Square—she then asked me to wait a minute, and turned round and went away—four men then seized me from behind and two rifled my pockets—I was in civilian dress, and had about £5 10s. on me—they tore off my coat and ran away with it—I then went to St. Pancras Station and put on my regimental clothes, and walked, about the Euston Road; a police inspector asked me if I had lost a coat; I said, "Yes," and he took me to the station—I am positive that Sucker was one of my assailants, but I am not sure about Jacobs—I was quite sober.
Cross-examined by MR. ABINGER. I had only been into two public houses, and had had a glass of whisky in each—I was not fined last week for drunkenness, nor at all—the court where I was robbed was dark, but I had a good opportunity of seeing Sucker.
ALBERT WOODS . I am a paper seller of 94, Cromer Street—on April 27th, about 11 p.m., I was standing outside the Wellington public house, Argyle Place—I saw the prosecutor walking with a woman, and four men walking some little distance behind them—she then signalled to the men with her finger, and came back towards them, leaving the prosecutor on a step the men then came up to him and knocked him down, and tore his coat off him—I saw Sucker put his hand in the prosecutor's left pocket—I shouted "Police," and Sucker said to me "Go away you f—g—b—d"—he tried to strike me, but I got away—when the men ran away, they took the prosecutor's coat with them, and afterwards threw it down an area—I followed them, and saw them go into a restaurant—I then went back to the house where the coat was, and asked a lady to give it me, but she would not, and told me to fetch a policeman or the soldier to whom it belonged—I got a policeman, and went with him to the restaurant and identified the two prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. FOWKE. I cannot swear positively that Jacobs was one of the men, but I think he was.
Cross-examined by MR. ABINGER. I was not more than a yard away when the robbery took place; I could have put my hand on the men—I am positive about Sucker being one of the four.
HENRY GARRARD . (Police Constable E.) On April 27th, about 11.30 p.m., Woods brought the prosecutor's jacket to me at Hunter Street Police Station, and in consequence of something he told me, I went to St. Pancras Station to try and find the prosecutor—I found him, and took him to the station—I then went to 25, Tunbridge Street, with Woods, and he identified the two prisoners—there were about twenty men in the place altogether—I told them I was a police officer, and should arrest them for stealing £5
from a man in Argyle Place—they said, "It is some mistake"—I took them to the station, and on the way the proprietor of the restaurant came up and asked me in their presence what they were arrested for; I told him, and asked him how long they had been in the restaurant; he said, "Only a short time"—Sucker then said, "Understand, I have been in there since 2 o'clock this afternoon"—Jacobs did not say anything—at the police station, the prisoners were put up with eleven other men, and the prosecutor identified Sucker without any hesitation—he picked out another man first for Jacobs, and then pointed to Jacobs and said, "I believe that is the man, but I would not swear to him"—4s. 6d. was found on Jacobs, and ls. 5d. in bronze on Sucker—when charged they made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. FOWKE. Woods was not asked to identify the prisoners at the station, as he had done so at the restaurant—he was then quite certain about them both—at the police court, I think he said that he was not quite sure about Jacobs.
Cross-examined by MR. ABINGER.—He picked out a wrong man after identifying Sucker, and before identifying Jacobs—the man picked out by mistake was not at the restaurant—when I went to the restaurant, the two prisoners were playing at cards, I think.
Mr. Fowke submitted that there was no evidence to go to the Jury against Jacobs in which the COURT concurred.
JACOBS, NOT GUILTY .
Evidence for Sucker.
TOBIAS CHASKELBERG . I keep a restaurant at 25, Tunbridge Street, King's Cross—I know Sucker as a customer—on Monday, April 27th, the police came to the house—Sucker came in at about 5.30 to tea, and had some eggs, bread and butter, and tea—afterwards he played at dominos and cards with some other men—my wife sits by the door and takes the money as the customers go out—I know Sucker did not go out between 5.30 and the time the police came, because he had not paid.
Cross-examined by MR. MAHAFFY. When I asked the policeman what was the matter, he did not answer me—he did not ask me how long Sucker had been in my shop, and I did not tell him that he had only been there a short time.
DORA CHASKELBERG . I am the wife of Tobias Chaskelberg—on the night the police came to the shop, Sucker came in between 5.30 and 6 o'clock—I see everybody that comes in and goes out, and I swear that Sucker did not go out till the police came in.
Cross-examined. He did not come in at 2 o'clock.
BARNET LINDERMAN . I am a grocer—I know Sucker—on the night he was arrested I went into the restaurant about 8 o'clock; he was there then—I left at 11.10, and Sucker was there then—I swear he did not go out while I was there—I was playing a game of cards called sixty-six with him.
MR. PERROMANN. I am a tailor of 25, Tunbridge Street—I went into the restaurant about 8.15, and was playing at sixty-six with Sucker till he was arrested.
9 o'clock and saw Sucker there playing at cards—I stayed till the police came in—Sucker did not go out in the interval.
Cross-examined. Sucker is not a friend of mine; I knew him as a customer; I have made a suit of clothes for him.
Sucker, in his defence on oath, said that he went to the restaurant about 5.30, and did not leave till the police came in and arrested him.
GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, May 20th and 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
HOOPER. and HENRY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. C. W. MATHEWS. and MR. BIRON. Prosecuted; MR. MUIR. and MR. LEYCESTER. Defended.
WILLIAM JOHN HARTLEY . I am managing director of J. Watson and Co., Limited, 61, Crutched Friars, tea blenders—in March, 1902, we had a man named Hooper in our employment, who worked in the warehouse under the foreman, keeping the rough warehouse books—his wages were 27s. 6d.—he was nineteen years old—we had a warehouseman named Henry in our employ—his wages were 35s. a week—he was about twenty-three years old—he had been with us two years—we took stock of our tea in February, and there was a small, deficiency unaccounted for—we again took stock on April 23rd, and found a deficiency of about 1,300 lbs., worth about £75—in consequence of that discovery I spoke to Hooper—I afterwards had an interview with him, at which he made a statement, in consequence of which he was given in custody—his statement involved Henry, who was spoken to on the matter in the presence of Hooper—in consequence of what he said he was also given into custody—they were subsequently prosecuted at the Mansion House, and committed for trial—during the proceedings at the Mansion House certain fresh facts came to my knowledge, in consequence of which I applied for a warrant against Allen—I had known him for some time—he was in the habit of coming to our premises to buy or sell empty chests, or buy old tea lead—we never sold him any tea or bought tea from him—the tea comes to us in whole chests, and we usually sell it in half chests containing 66 lbs.—the whole chests we receive contain about 100 lbs.—some of the empty chests being of no use to us are sold, and were sold to Allen among other people—as a rule we cut them down to a smaller size—the chest produced marked "198" with "A. S." in red on it we got from the Metropolitan Bonded Warehouses, Limited, of which Mr. Marzette is the managing director, on March 18th—the "A. S." in a monogram is the mark of the Ardja Sarie estates, from whence the chest came—there is also on the chest "Break No. 67"—every parcel of tea bears a consecutive break number—there is also on the empty chest, "Chest No. 24"—we have books in Court containing entries relating to it—the chests are brought in by car-men and taken in by Hooper and Henry, and an entry made in a book—
I do not keep the books—looking at the chest I say that it was on my premises and formed part of my stock—I missed it when stock was taken on April 23rd—I next saw it at 11, Haydon Street, City, Allen's place of business, on May 11th—when there I saw the other chest, which is in Court—I cannot identify it so positively; it is the class of chest we should buy empty and re-pack—the number "696 "agrees with the number of one of our missing boxes.
Cross-examined. We have done business with Allen for about two years, selling him a number of empty half-chests and tea lead—when he was in custody I went to his premises with Inspector Phillips and my solicitor and an accountant, to examine some books and papers there—the police were in possession—I did not see the chest "A" brought into our warehouse—I cannot say that I saw the numbers of that chest till after the prosecution" against Hooper and Henry was commenced—I know we bought the "break" which contained this chest amongst others—we purchase chests called "Venestas."
WALTER GEORGE MARZETTE . I am managing director of the Metropolitan Bonded Warehouses, Limited, 9, John Street, Crutched Friars—the dock warrant produced refers to the half-chest now in Court—the markings and numbers are the same.
Cross-examined. The warrant is not signed by me, but by somebody authorised by me—my knowledge as to the numbers on the chest is derived from this warrant and my books, which are kept by my clerk.
WILLIAM DONOGHUE . I was employed in March last by Mr. Woodroof, who did a little carting for Watson, Limited—on March 17th or 18th I collected thirty chests from the Metropolitan Bonded Warehouses, which I took to J. Waston, Limited, at Rangoon Street, City.
Cross-examined. I did not compare the numbers of the chest with the delivery note.
PETER HENRY . (The prisoner.) I am a warehouseman, of 43, Thorne-grove Road, Upton Park—about two years ago I went into the prosecutors' employment, who were then Hartley Bros., carrying on a tea blending business at 61, Crutched Friars—there was also a man named Hooper employed there—I have pleaded guilty to stealing this tea—I first saw Allen about March, 1902, when he came to the warehouse—we were buying some empty packages, and he asked me if I could do with some—I said I could if I could get them cheap—he came again, and I asked him if he could get me some—he said he could not, not just then—there was a stack of empty leaded half chests, which Mr. Hartley authorized me to sell, and Allen said to me, "Do you want to sell those?"—I said, "Yes"—he asked me what I wanted for them—I said, "10s. a dozen"—he would not give that price—he came again two days later and saw the half-chests still in the same place—he asked me if I had sold them—I said, "No"—he said, "Well, I will have them at 10s. a dozen; I might as well have them as anybody else"—he further said, "You can put some-thing in them if you like"—I said, "Some what?"—and he said, "Some tea"—I replied, "Are you tempting me or sent to try me?"—he said, "No, it is all right, I will give you 6d. a pound"—I told him I would see
about it—the next day he came with a van, and I with Hooper and another man put the chests on the van—while it was being done he asked me if I had anything done up—I said, "No"—he said, "What is this?" and kicked a half-chest full of tea—on the spur of the moment I said, "Take that"—he took it—that was the first occasion on which anything was stolen—he told me to go round to his warehouse and he would pay me, which I did—he paid me 33s., being 6d. a pound for 66 lbs. of tea—I gave Hooper 11s. of the money—Allen came again about ten days later and said, "Have you got anything coming along?"—I replied, "I do not like letting any more go as I cannot make it up"—I next day agreed to send another half-chest, and I asked a Great Western Railway carman, who used to call at our warehouse for packages, to take it round to Allen, which he did—I gave him a shilling for delivering a half-chest and ls. 6d. for a full one—Allen used to come two or three times a week to Northum-berland Alley, where we then were, and I used to send round to him a half-chest and sometimes a full one, about once a month—each time I got my 6d. a pound, of which I gave Hooper 2d. a pound—since last February, when we moved to Crutched Friars, chests of tea used to go to Allen on an average once a week or once a fortnight—the last chest in the indictment was delivered to Allen on April 21st—I got the money for it—I had bought from Allen some partition for a greenhouse for 5s., a door for 2s. 6d., and three water tubs for 3s.—the three tubs was an old account—the 3s. was deducted from one of the amounts I received—the door of Allen's warehouse was usually shut and opened by a man named Strahan—from February until April 23rd I think stole about 1,300 lbs. of tea in this way—in March I and Hooper got frightened and decided to tell our governor—we did not know they were taking stock, or would have done so before—the chest produced in Court is similar to ones we have had.
Cross-examined. Cut down chests were never sold by my firm empty, always full—our trade was nearly all out of London, but not quite—Allen first wanted to sell some chests to us, what are called "Venestas"—he was a seller of one kind of empty chests and a buyer of another—I said to Hooper that Allen had asked me if we could let him have some tea—he said, "I have been straightforward up to now and honest, and I will see about it"—when he came in, we had agreed to share equally, but I only gave Hooper a third of what I received: Allen suggested to me that 1 should do so—all I have related as to the conversations is entirely from memory—I have no private business of my own nor has my wife—all the tea we Stole was delivered to Allen.
LESLIE MARZETTE . I am one of the firm of Metropolitan Bonded Warehouses, Limited—the warrant produced is signed by me—it refers to a consignment of tea, and has on it the letters "A. S." and the numbers "198-203"—it contains an order to deliver that consignment to a carman named Woodroof, who called on behalf of Betts, Hartley and Co.
Cross-examined. I did not check the numbers with the packages—the document was put before me by one of my clerks, and I signed it.
FREDERICK KNELLER . I am check scale clerk to the Metropolitan Bonded Warehouses, Limited—I superintend the checking and weighing of all chests of tea—having done that, I record it in the landing book—the entry of August 16th, 1902, is in my writing—it says, "Ardja Sarie," and the numbers of the chests appear, Nos. 190 to 220, which would include 198.
Cross-examined. The landing book only shows that the chest was in our warehouse at one time.
WALTER THOMSON . I am a warrant clerk employed by Marzette's firm—I signed the warrant produced—I prepare the weigh notes for the landing book with Mr. Wilson—he repeats the numbers as I call them out—it refers to this chest, amongst others, now in Court.
HENRY WARD . I am delivery foreman in Mr. Marzette's firm—it is my duty to check on two floors every chest of tea which goes out of the building—the chest in court with "198" on it I checked on March 18th, and then scratched through the number on the warrant produced, and also initialled the warrant—having looked at the warrant I am able to say that the chest was delivered to Mr. Woodroof's van on March 18th.
JAMES HOUSDON HARTLEY . I am a partner in Betts, Hartley and Co.—I remember buying on November 11th, 1902, eighteen chests of "Ardja Sarie" tea, and on the 19th a further twelve chests of the same tea—these are the contracts of that tea (Produced)—I sold them to J. Watson and Co., Limited.
JAMES JAQUES . I live at 19, Clarence Road, Wood Green—I am cashier to Betts, Hartley and Co—I received two contracts for the purchase of thirty chests of tea, and put them before Mr. Hartley—later on I received particulars of the weight and numbers of the tea bought under those contracts, which would be entered by my assistant in a book and checked by me—looking at this entry in the tea-book I can say that a chest marked "S. A 198" was one of the thirty chests bought and sold by us to Watson, Limited—on referring to the sales book it appears as having been sold to J. Watson, Limited—soon afterwards we received the warrants relating to the tea, which I handed to a shipping clerk, Croscombe, who cleared the tea.
WILLIAM THOMAS CROSCOMBE . I am a shipping clerk in Betts, Hartley and Co.'s employment—Jaques instructed me to clear certain tea from the bonded warehouse—the warrant produced is signed by me—it contains particulars of a chest of tea marked "A. S. 67, 1902, No. 198"—I wrote on the warrant, the order for delivery, to Mr. Woodroof's carman.
BERTRAM HOOPER . (The Prisoner.) I live at 182, Queen's Road, Batter-sea—I have pleaded guilty with Henry to stealing this tea—I am nineteen years old—I have been with Watson and Co. about five years—my wages at the time of these occurrences were 27s. 6d. a week—in March, 1902, I was working in the warehouse under Henry—I remember some
time in March, 1902, seeing Allen in conversation with Henry—after he had gone Henry spoke to me about something—Allen came again next day—Henry spoke to me again—in consequence of what he said I agreed to do something—some little time after Allen came with a cart and took away some empty half-chests which he had purchased—besides the empties a half-chest of tea was put on the van, taken out of our warehouse—that was the subject matter of the communication Henry made to me some days before—I knew it was being stolen—the receipt dated March 6th, 1902, is, I believe, the receipt for the empties; it includes some tea lead—I got 11s. for the half-chest of tea—I did not know that Henry got 6d. alb for the tea—I remember Dival coming and taking a half-chest round to Allen's warehouse—a chest of tea used to go round about once a week or a fortnight, or once in three weeks, every now and again—I always received my money from Henry—the chests went round to Allen more frequently later on—about a month or five weeks before it was found out, I believe Henry said that the practice had better stop—the chest in Court I recognise as having been on our premises, and it was one of those which went out with the tea in it to Allen's place—I identify it by the way it is cut down and the way the patches are put in.
Cross-examined. I did not say at the police court that I could identify it as one of those that went to Allen's, I do not think I was asked the question—I never had any conversation with Allen about the matter, and never received any money from him—I at first kept a record on paper of the chests that went away, but it was destroyed—this was for the purpose of seeing I got my share of the money—I have no connection with any shop—the only tea I disposed of was disposed of to Allen—the whole deficiency I say has gone to Allen.
Re-examined. I confessed to Mr. Hartley on Sunday, April 26th, at his private house—on the Monday I was taken to Crutched Friars, and there, in the presence of Mr. Hartley and Inspector Phillips, saw Henry, who also confessed.,
WILLIAM THOMAS DIVAL . I am a carman in the Great Western Railway Company's employment, and live at 34, Hamilton Grove Road, Bow—I called every evening at Watson's to see if there were any parcels—in that way I knew Hooper and Henry—Henry spoke to me, and in consequence I took a half-chest of tea to the Calcutta Tea Company—I did so on a good many occasions—I did not account to the Great Western Railway Company for the shilling I received each time.
Cross-examined. I cannot say when the business began—I should say I took round about twenty chests and half-chests—I never had any sus-picion that anything wrong was being done.
JAMES THOMAS WEDGE . I live at 38, Dean Street, Mercer Road—I was van boy under Dival—I have been with his van to Mr. Hartley's place, Northumberland Avenue—Dival used on occasions to take a chest or a half-chest of tea from the van, at the top of Haydon Street, and walk down the street with it—I cannot say where he took it to—the van used to wait at the top of the street.
Cross-examined. I cannot say when it first started—I did not think Dival was doing wrong—I had only to look after the van.
JOHN STRAHAN . I was warehouseman to Allen for about five years—I live at 85, Swatton Road, Bow—I have seen Henry at our place lots of times—he used to come to see Allen—I remember a Great Western carman coming to our place—he had a chest of tea the first time—I took it in and asked no questions—all sorts of goods used to come, such as potted meats, machinery in cases, broom handles, and tapioca—the governor goes to auction sales and buys all sorts of goods—when tea came I took it upstairs, weighed it, and then put it on the floor and blended it.
Cross-examined. I kept no books, Allen did all the writing—it was my duty to take things in and send them out when told to—it was no business of mine where they came from or where they were going to—Allen used to attend railway sales.
JOHN STEWART (City Detective.) On May 8th I took charge of Allen's premises, 11, Haydon Street—I there found the half-chest and chest produced, amongst about 100 others—I found these books also, consisting of two ledgers, one pass book, cheque book, and a number of Pickford's bills for conveying goods—I was present when the accountant went through the books.
Cross-examined. I took possession of Allen's premises after his arrest—I found nothing there connected with these proceedings except what I produce.
HENRY PHILLIPS . (Detective Inspector, City.) I arrested Allen on a warrant on May 8th for receiving a large quantity of stolen tea—he made no reply when the warrant was read—at the station, when he was charged, he said, "Who lays the warrant?"—I said, "The warrant has been issued at the information of Watson and Co."—he was searched—I found on him a draft letter and this tea book—the draft letter was to the Daily Telegraph, disclaiming all connection of the Calcutta Tea Company with the two young men charged at the Mansion House with stealing tea—it was not published—at page 57 of this tea book, under date April 22nd, I find this entry, "P. Henry," and opposite, in the margin, I find "£113s.," and underneath "had £1 10s.," showing that 3s. was deducted from the £1 13s.
MR. ABERNETHY. I am one of the firm of Jackson, Taylor, Abernethy, and Co., chartered accountants, of Dash wood House, 9, New Broad Street—I went through the business books of the Calcutta Tea Company in the presence of the police—I found this sales ledger—it purports to show the sales of tea, but I am unable from it to say how much tea was sent out; I have, however, arrived at the amount from taking Pickford's accounts, which I made out to be about 25,000 lbs.—there is no record as to where the tea came from, or what was paid for it, or how delivered.
Cross-examined. It was plain from my examination of the books that no complete record was kept—it was also plain from what I saw in the place that he dealt in tea to a very large amount, and other articles, such as office furniture.
JOHN STEWART . (Re-examined.) When I searched the premises I found, besides tea chests, a large quantity of potted meats, sweets, sago, brown-paper machinery, cutters, grinders and sifters, wood pulp, a quantity of brass screws and earthenware teapots, and many other things.
Allen, in his defence on oath, stated that he had been in business for fifteen years, that he attended railway sales and others, and bought all sorts of miscellaneous goods; that he had bought half-chests from Messrs. Hartley, and sold them "Venesta" chests; that the story told by Henry as to kicking the half chest of tea and asking him to send it to him was untrue, as also was what Hooper said; that he could offer no explanation as to the entry of £113s. in the book found on him, and could not say how the chests found on his premises came there.
ALLEN received a good character.
GUILTY ., Five years' penal servitude . Henry and Hooper received good characters. HENRY, Six months' hard labour. HOOPER, Four days' imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, May 20th, 21st, and 22nd, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
472. JOHN HALL (28) and DANIEL DESMOND (25), PLEADED GUILTY . to stealing two cases and twenty-seven dozen calf skins, the property of the London and North-Western Railway Company, their masters. (See next case.)
473. JOHN HALL and DANIEL DESMOND , were again indicted with SAMUEL KLEIDER (27), and HARRY JACOBOVITCH (21) , Stealing thirty-nine dozen, calf skins, the property of the London and North-Western Railway Company, the masters of Hall and Desmond. HALL and DESMOND PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. J. P. GRAIN, PETER GRAIN., and J. B. ASPINALL. Prosecuted; MESSRS. MATHEWS. and SYMMONS. appeared for Kleider; and MR. VALETTA. for Jacobovitch.
LUDWIG BAUER . I am chief of the forwarding department of Carl Fraudenburg and Company, of Weinheim. Baden—on January 27th I sent two boxes of calf skins to Samuel Barrow Brothers, Leicester—one case contained eighteen dozen and the other twenty-one dozen, worth about £250—the cases were marked "C. F. 575" and "C. F. 576"—they were packed by Mr. Phlasterer—the skins, except three dozen inferior stock, were marked with our brand, for Barrow by the packer—I recognised the fifteen dozen I saw at Leman Street as our make, which were packed in the cases sent to Barrow.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. We send several lots nearly every week—a large quantity are on the market—except three dozen they were marked "B medium"—the mark is still on the case—we have manufactured the same class of skins for Barrow about 2 1/2 years.
of Weinheim, Baden—on January 26th I packed two cases containing thirty-nine dozen of box-calf skins—I know the writing of these tickets and the contents of the cases to be that of our machine man—after they were written they were handed to me—I checked the goods with the tickets—the figures show the measurements—the cases were sound and not broken, and well packed—the skins shown to me at the police court correspond with the complete dozens described on the tickets.
WINNELL DALTON . I am a checker for the Great Eastern Railway Company, at Bishopsgate Goods Station—on February 5th I saw truck No. 8,839 arrive from Parkstone Quay, Harwich, with goods from steamers—I found two cases marked C. F. 575 and C. F. 576—this is my sheet—I put them on the platform for dispatch to their destination.
JOHN JAMES HERBERT . I am a checker at Bishopsgate Goods Station of the Great Eastern Railway—on February 5th I saw the cases, C. F. 575 and C. F. 576, put on carman Rose's van in sound and good condition—this is my sheet—they were addressed to Barrow, of Leicester.
JAMES ROBERT ROSE . I am a carman for the Great Eastern Railway Company—on February 5th I loaded on to my van the two cases C. F. 575 and C. F. 576 to be taken to the Broad Street Station of the London and North-Western Railway, where I took them and delivered them as I received them, in sound and good condition—I got this sheet signed.
WILLIAM JOHN CHRISTMAS . I am a receiving clerk at Broad Street Station—I sign for goods brought in—this is the prisoner Hall's signature in pencil on this sheet—that is my authority to sign for them.
JOHN HALL . (The prisoner.) I have pleaded guilty to being concerned in stealing two cases from Broad Street—this pencil signature is mine—it was my duty to check the goods coming in and sign for them—I re-collect the two cases coming—I had been spoken to by a man in the Baker and Basket public-house at the end of last year—I consigned the cases C. F. 575 and C. F. 576 by this fresh note, and Desmond labeled them to Wright, of Bedford—I had received the name of Wright and instructions where to send them—this is my signature in pencil, "W. P. Brown, 5.2.03."
WILLIAM "MORRIS BARRADEL . I am assistant manager to Samuel Barrow Brothers, at Leicester, leather merchants—about February 5th I expected consignments of leather from Fraudenburg, of Weinheim, Baden—I did not receive them—this skin has the special mark put on skins consigned from Fraudenburg to us.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. We sell again. Jeremiah John Twoomey. I was a checker at Broad Street Goods Station on February 5th—I was checking goods loaded for Bedford—I received this consignment note, signed "W. P. Brown, 5.2.03 '—I loaded the two cases marked on this note, and consigned to Wright, of Bedford, into truck No. 2529—my initials are on the note.
ARTHUR GEORGE HILLS . I am a carman in the employment of the London and North-Western Railway at Bedford—on February 6th I received on my dray at Bedford Station the two cases from the Broad Street truck, addressed to Wright, Ampthill Street, Bedford—a man I
had delivered goods to before paid the carnage, 15s. 4d., and on his instructions I took them to the Midland Station platform and left them.
ALFRED SAMUEL ABBOTT . I am a soldier—in February I was a porter at the Midland Station at Bedford—on February 6th I received two cases from the carman Hills—the man who received them when they were unloaded, told me to consign them to Jackson. St. Pancras Goods Station, till called for—I saw them "put into a truck which was being loaded for St. Pancras Goods Station.
GEORGE PRATT . I am a checker employed by the Midland Railway Company, at St. Pancras goods station—on February 7th I received two cases from Bedford consigned and addressed to Jackson till called for—the marks on them were "CF 575" and "CF 576"—when unloaded they were put on the platform and marked "Pro."
JOHN MCDONALD . I am a checker employed by the Midland Railway Company, at St. Pancras goods station—on February 7th I delivered to a man, who had a pony and trap, two cases addressed to Jackson—he signed in the name of Jackson in this delivery book, and took them away in good condition.
PHILIP KASS . I am one of the firm of Kass and Gamble, of 21, Fournier Street, Spitalfields, boot upper manufacturers—I have known Kleider a few months, trading as H. W. Morris and Co.—he brought me a sample of box calf skins on February 11th—he asked me to buy at 11d. a foot—I bought a dozen at 10 1/2 d. a square foot—on February 13th Jacobovitch brought the stuff and this invoice—I used up the goods except the six skins before me which I handed to the police—I have known Jacobovitch because of his father dealing formerly in leather—he paid by acceptances on the day he brought the stuff, and the receipt was given at the same time ready made out.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I knew Kleider as Kleider—I knew where he carried on business—there was no secrecy—the business was done in the ordinary way, and the price was fair—I examined the goods after I bought them—I sold some—some were marked; some not.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I knew Jacobovitch only as traveller for Kleider.
NATHAN APPLE . I am one of the firm of Trop Brothers and Apple, boot manufacturers, 132, High Street, Shadwell—I have dealt with Kleider—on February 23rd he brought some samples of skins—my boss, Mr. Trop,' called and saw the stuff at 128, Whitechapel Road—"Morris and Co." was on the outside of the shop, where there were on shelves skins of all sorts, and soles, and all sorts of leather—Jacobovitch got some things down to show me—I asked him the price and he asked 9 1/4 d. a foot—I agreed—this invoice was made out—the item is £3 3s. 5d.—the receipt was brought with the stuff by Jacobovitch, and is signed "Per pro H. W. Morris and Co., February 23rd"—I bought other goods a month later—I bought six more skins at the same price in their shop—Kleider and Jacobovitch were present—I gave up two of the skins to the police: the rest I worked up.
Cross-examined by. Mr. Mathews. My place of business was about
ten minutes' walk from the prisoners'—I paid by cheque—a boy was in the shop—everything was regular—I bought eight skins in all—two of the skins were marked.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I only knew Jacobovitch as traveller. Harry Vander Linde. I am clerk to A. and W. Cohen, boot manufacturers, of 4, Fournier Street—on February 25th Jacobovitch brought a single calf skin as a sample—he offered seven or eight dozen for sale—I asked him to bring about a dozen—I knew him as a traveller—he mentioned no firm—in the afternoon he brought seven dozen skins—I bought eight dozen—this is the invoice in his name for £41 15s.—I sent him cheques by post for £46 1s., which included some samples which I kept—all the skins were marked "Samuel Fraudenburg" and I think "Weinheim"—I used all the skins except two, which I handed to the police—the name is erased on these skins by being handled about.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I looked upon the transaction as fair and in the usual course of business—it is usual for travellers to invoice goods in their own names.
SOLOMON SOLOMONS . I am foreman to Abraham Miller and Co., boot manufacturers, 56, Peasedale Road, Hackney Road—on March 2nd. Jacobovitch brought me a sample of box calf skins—I told him I could not buy skins by looking at one, he should let me have a dozen—he came the following day with a dozen—on seeing them I agreed to buy twelve dozen—this is the invoice (To H. W. Morris and Co.)—he brought six dozen—the twelve dozen order was never completed—I used up 2 3/4 dozen—the remainder I handed to the police—these are the skins.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. This was a perfectly open transaction—I paid a fair price for the goods—Jacobovitch represented himself as a traveller to Morris and Co.
Re-examined. I have not paid—the price was 8 1/4 d. and the terms sixty days.
JACK KARRS . I am warehouseman for J. Franklin and Son, boot manufacturers, White Lion Street, Spitalfields—on March 5th Jacobovitch brought one skin as a sample of fifteen dozen he could sell—the price he asked was 8 1/2 d.—the same day he came again and I agreed to buy fifteen dozen at 8d.—I passed them into the stock room—I have used six skins—the remainder I have handed over to the police—they are here—I have checked them.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. It was an ordinary every-day trans-action.
JACOB WATERS . I am cashier to J. Franklin and Son—I recollect on March 5th a purchase of box calf skins, and on March 6th Jacobovitch calling for payment—he brought this invoice—a cheque was given—Jacobovitch asked for cash—I gave him this cheque for £76 6s. 10d. and £2 17s. 6d. cash.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I have not done business with this Jacobovitch before, but with his father.
opened an account there—I know Kleider as Simon Samuel—this signature in our minute book "H. W. Morris and Co., Ltd., S. Samuel" is his—these two cheques endorsed "S. Samuel" are payable to Jacobovitch—the one payable to Franklin is Kleider's writing, the one to Cohen I am not certain about.
JOHN EALES . I am the London representative of Barrow Brothers, Limited, of Leicester—I am well acquainted with calf skins—the skins produced are made specially and solely for our firm by Fraudenburg and Co., of Weinheim, Baden—I have seen in the possession of the police fifteen dozen and some broken skins, amounting to about 31 1/2 dozen—we deal in skins wholesale—we might sell a sample at £5, but usually in bulk up to £3,000 or £4,000—I have compared the skins, and the numbers correspond with ours—the lowest price to the trade is 8 1/2 d.—some here are 10 1/2 d., 10d., and 9d. per foot—those prices are well known in the trade—I have never sold to anyone named Morris—the purchaser would have an invoice—they average about 162 square feet per dozen.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. Barrows sell again with the marks on the leather—a large proportion are consigned to London and dealt with.
THOMAS DIVALL . (Detective H.) Shortly prior to March 16th I was engaged with Detective Allen of the London and North-Western police in inquiring into the loss of these cases—about 2 p.m. that day I went to 366, Mile End Road, having gone to 128, Whitechapel Road at 1.30, the address of H. W. Morris and Co, Limited—I found Kleider, whom I had not seen before, at 128—I said, "Is Mr. Morris in?"—he said, "No, Mr. Morris is not here, who are you?"—I said, "We are police officers, we wish to see Mr. Morris"—he said, "I am Mr. Wright, Mr. Morris is not here, I am the manager, and I am reponsible for the business"—I said, "Have you a traveller?'—he said, "Yes"—I had heard of the name of Jacobovitch—I said, "Have you sold six dozen of box calf skins to a Mr. Miller?"—he said, "The traveller's name is Jacobovitch, he bought and sold the skins Mr. Miller had, I have not got the receipt, what has it to do with me? Jacobovitch has got the invoice, he can tell you where they came from, I do not know, I do not know where he is; he might be here about five or six o'clock, I do not know where he lives; why do you ask me?"—there was a hesitation, and then he said, "I am the person you must deal with: you be very careful, this business has been formed into a limited company; it was my wife's business; we formed it into this company"—he hesitated and then said, "I will go with you and get the receipt for the leather; my wife has got it at my private address, 30 Mile End Road; she has got it there, there is only one receipt for that leather, it is in a drawer in the front room upstairs"—then he seemed to change his demeanor and said, "I bought the stuff from a merchant I never saw before nor since; the leather was delivered in the usual way"—I said, "I will leave you here in charge of Sergeant Wensley, a police officer"—I then proceeded with Allen to 366, Mile End Road, opposite 309, where Kleider resided, I believe—entering 366 I saw Jacobovitch—I was with Allen—on the way Allen mentioned the name Kleider—I said to Jacobovitch, "We are police officers, and are making inquiries respecting
some box calf skins stolen from the London and North-Western Railway Company in February last; are you employed by Mr. Kleider, representing the firm of Morris and Co. Limited, 128, Whitechapel Road?"—he said, "I do not know him"—I said, "have you sold any box calf skins to any persons?"—he said, "Yes, I have sold some to Cohen, Fournier Street, and he is the only man I have ever sold any skins to; I am certain I have not sold any to anyone else; I do not know anything about box calf skin"—I said, "I shall take you into custody for stealing and receiving those skins"—he said, "I work for Mr. Morris, Whitechapel Road, he is my master, he is the only man I know"—I handed him over to constables—then Allen and I went to 309, Mile End Road, the residence of Kleider just across the road—I saw Mrs. Kleider—we searched the house and found some of the papers produced—then we went to 128, Whitechapel Road, and examined the place in Kleider's presence—he was still in Wensley's custody—Kleider said, "The man I bought the skins from is a merchant, "Allen, I think, 'had showed him an invoice, "I never saw him before, and I have not seen him since; I did not ask him who he was, or where he got the skins; this was my wife's business; she paid £63 for the skins, but I handed him the money in cash"—I examined a number of brown paper parcels containing skins of leather which are there, then Kleider said, "They are all right, I have got a receipt for them"—I said, "You will be taken into custody for stealing and receiving a box containing a number of box leather skins stolen from the London and North-Western Railway in February last"—he said, "Well, my wife sold the business to this company; I am the manager now, and she put the skins into the business"—then there was a rest for a second or two, and he said, "Oh, well, I suppose I am not old enough to know better yet; Mr. Pam, who lives at 25, Philpot Street, introduced me to the man who sold the skins"—that is about three-quarters of a mile from the prisoner's' shop," he knows him well"—then Kleider was taken to the police station by—Wensley—Jacobovitch was brought to the same station, Leman Street, White-chapel—I was engaged in another case and did not listen to the charge—when I went to Kleider's house, 309, I found the person I now know as Mrs. Jacobovitch hiding on the top landing—Allen and I took possession of other property the following day.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I made my note shortly after 5 p.m. on my arrival at the police station—I do not know that Allen made a note; I saw him look at a book—Kleider did not say "Right" when I spoke to him, but that his name was Mr. Wright—that roused my suspicion as to his name—I found Mr. Pam at his address—he is respectable—Kleider told me his name at the last interview, when Allen showed him the invoice, when I found him still in charge of Wensley—I found other goods and papers not, relating to this case at Morris and Co.'s—I found the same goods there on my visit two days afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. The prisoners did not give me their addresses—I had the greatest difficulty in getting Jacobovitch's address, although he lived opposite. John Allen (Detective Inspector London and North-Western Railway,
Broad Street.) On March 16th I went with Divall to 128, Whitechapel Road—I made a note of the conversation with Kleider—Divall said, "Is Mr. Morris in?"—Kleider said, "Mr. Morris is not here; who are you?"—Divall said, "We are police officers; we wanted to see Mr. Morris"—Kleider said, "I am Mr. Wright, Mr. Morris is not here; I am the manager, and I am responsible for the business"—Divall said, "Have you a traveller?"—Kleider said, "Yes"—Divall said, "Have you sold any box calf skins to Mr. Miller of Peasedale Street?"—Kleider said, "The traveller's name is Jacobovitch; he bought and sold the skins Mr. Miller had"—Divall said, "Have you got the receipt?"—he said, "No, I have not got them; what has it to do with me? Jacobovitch has got it, he can tell you where they came from; I do not know; I do not know where he is now; he might be here about five or six o'clock; I do not know where he lives; why do you ask me? I am the person you must deal with; this, has been formed into a limited company"—after a minute or two he said, "I will go with you and get the invoice for the leather; my wife has got it; there is only one invoice, it is in a drawer in a front room upstairs; I bought the stuff from a merchant; I never saw him before nor since; the leather was delivered in the ordinary way"—I then went with Divall to 366, Mile End Road, Jacobovitch's address, and from there to 309, after I had seen Mrs. Jacobovitch—I heard Divall ask Jacobovitch, "Do you work for Mr. Kleider of Morris and Co., Whitechapel Road?"—he said, "I do not know Mr. Kleider; I have never seen him"—Divall asked him if he had seen any box calf skins—he said, "I sold some skins to Cohen; he is the only person I sold any skins to; I am certain I never sold any to anyone else"—we then went to 309, Mile End Road, a private address opposite—a woman opened the door—she afterwards told me she was Mrs. Kleider—I went with her to the front room upstairs on the first floor—she unlocked a door in a wardrobe and looked amongst some papers and found this receipt (Dated February 12th, 1903, from the Palace Shoe Manufacturing Co.: "Bought of John Morris, leather merchant, 127, Union Street, Borough, fifteen dozen skins, box calf, 84s. per dozen, £63. Paid by cash, with thanks, John Morris, February 12th, 1903)."—I went to 127, Union Street, Borough, the same day and found it is "All Hallows Mission House," and a Home for Infant Nurses, but no John Morris, nor any Morris, nor any business—I found at Kleider's premises, 128, Whitechapel Road, this receipt of "John Durant," already stamped but blank, and other receipts—I showed this to Kleider—he said, "Yes, that is the receipt I meant; that is the only one; I do not know John Morris; why should I? he is a merchant, I suppose"—I went to find Durant at the address on the receipt—there is no such number as 200a, and I could not find anyone named Durant—searching 128, Whitechapel Road, I found these twenty-two dozen and nine calf skins, which I have shown to Fawcett; also thirteen wax or black, and nine russet or brown skins—I had shown them to Kleider on March 16th, and said, "This is a valuable lot"—he said, "They are all right, I have got the receipt or invoice for them"—I left them then, but on the 18th, in consequence of something I heard I fetched them away and showed them to one of Mr. Fawcett's men—he is a leather merchant.
Cross-examined by Mr. Symmons. I found those skins in the same place I had left them two days before—I made my notes at the time before I went to the police station; most of them in the Whitechapel Road—I do not know that Divall made a note: I have no doubt he did, I have not seen it—I see there is a resemblance between the two notes—Kleider did not say, "Right," he said "I am Mr. Wright"—he did not say, "All right, I am his manager and responsible for the business"—I did not then know that his name was Kleider—I said to someone that I believed it was Kleider—I did believe that after I left him—I did not believe his name was Wright—I did not ask for Mrs. Wright—it was Mrs. Kleider I expected to see—I suspected it—we were in different parts of the shop at the same time searching—Divall went to the back with me first—when Allen produced the receipt I believe I said. "Is your name Kleider?"—he said, "Yes"—it is not correct to say that he said, "My name is Kleider"—I said, "Why did you give the name of Wright?"—he said he did not—there was a large quantity of leather on the premises—business was being carried on.
Re-examined. The Regulations provide that an arrest outside the London and North-Western premises shall be made by one of the Metropolitan force in conjunction with ourselves—I made my notes separately from Divall.
SAMUEL LEE . (Detective H.) I was engaged with the other officers making enquiries and was present at 128, Whitechapel Road on March 16th—I searched, and amongst others I found the two books produced—this minute book, this purchasers' invoice book, and others were handed to the solicitors for the defence—I also found this bundle of blank invoices—no invoice has been found corresponding with the thirty dozen of box calf and two other items making £150—it is referred to in the purchasers' invoice book as lost—I was present at Leman Street when the prisoners were formally charged—Jacobovitch said, "I am not the principal; Kleider told me he had bought it on his own account, and asked me to find customers, and I sold it; I have only had my commission"—I was writing this note at the time Kleider answered—on March 17th I was in charge of the prisoners at the Thames Police Court when Kleider voluntarily said to me, "Mr. Pam, of 25, Philpot Street, introduced me to the merchant; he can tell you all about it; he said he had a cheap line for sale, and I bought the skins; it is the only business I have done with the man"—Jacobovitch, who was standing by, said, "Yes, that is quite right."
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I found this pass book of an account with the Union Bank, opened in February with £430, as well as other business books and papers and a quantity of material which I am told is of a different quality—I am not a judge of leather, it might be worth hundreds—I thought so at the police court and think so now.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I found this petty cash book with payments to Jacobovitch for petty cash and 35s. as salary.
Re-examined. I believe the cheques produced were in the pocket of the pass book.
Inspector Divall left me in charge of him, and after he was gone Kleider said, "I do not understand what I have got to stay here for; I don't know what they are talking about; I have bought the skins and sold them again; it was before I had anything to do with this company. Mr. Morris is my brother-in-law; he is a director of the company, but he had nothing to do with this leather at all; I bought them; I bought them and gave £63 for them, and I have sold them; I think it was a fair price for them; I have got a receipt for them. I do not know who it was made out to, or whose bill head it is; I do not know the man I bought them from; why should I trouble? It does not matter to me whether it is right or wrong as long as I pay for it and have got a receipt"—I took him to Leman Street Station—he was charged, and replied, "I paid a reasonable price for them, and I did not steal them."
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I only recollect Mr. Dyvall coming back once; I took Kleider to the station and Mr. Dyvall went off in a cab.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. I said at the police court, pointing to Jacobovitch, "That man is innocent," but that was on another charge altogether.
MORRIS PAM . I am a boot laster of 25 Melport Street, Mile End—I have known Kleider two or three years—my daughter worked for him last year, but ceased after Lord Mayor's show—I saw him again before Christmas, when I went to the Palace Shoe Company, Mile End, to apply for work—I have never introduced him to anybody for the purpose of buying leather—I know no person named Morris, who lives in Union Street, Borough—he has never bought any goods of me and I have never sold any—I had no conversation with Kleider about my introducing him to a merchant who said that he had a cheap line, and that he bought the skins.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I do not deal in leather,' and never sold it; I swear that—I do not know Abrahams and Son, of 28, Commercial Road—I have never tried to sell leather there—I do not know those gentlemen (Isidore and Harris Abrahams), or Mr. Peter Abrahamson, of 16, Calvert Avenue, Shoreditch—I never saw him in my life—I did not call on him at Calvert Avenue, I do not know where it is—I did not bring three skins to sell, and do not know whether he offered to buy a dozen—I do not know him—I never introduced anybody to him, and never saw Morris in my life that I know of—I did not call at the same place just before Easter with a—sample of sole leather—I do not know that man (A Mr. Davidson)—it is the first time I have seen him, and I never went to Kleider's shop with Morris—I know that gentleman (Isidore Abrahams)—he is the son of Mr. Abrahams of the Commercial Road, from whom I have had work—I am not working for them now—I did not offer him or his firm some leather for sale in the latter part of December or early in January, or open a parcel in the presence of Isidore Abrahams—I only knew his brother by seeing him in the firm—I did not offer any goods for sale to the other brother, Harris—I did not call again the same day, nor did Isidore hand me a parcel back and say that they were not going to buy of me; it is untrue—I have seen that man (Harris Abrahams.)—I did not
offer him leather for sale towards the end of December or early in January—I did not leave samples with him which were returned by another witness—I do not know that man (Mr. Jackson)—I do not know Ball's Pond Road, his address—I did not call on him at the beginning of February to sell some leather, and introduce a man as Morris, or tell him that the leather belonged to Morris—I did not say that it was cheap because it was bought in an auction room—I did not say, "What makes you come to me? I have not been dealing in leather for the last two years."—I have never seen the man before—I did not show him three skins on this occasion.—neither Morris nor I said that we had about nine dozen, and if he took the lot they would be £9 4s. the dozen—it was not thirty-nine dozen—I did not ask him if he knew anybody who would buy it, nor did he say no, but' if he heard of anybody he would let me know; that is all untrue—(Mary Sfweig was here brought into Court.)—I do not know her—I only called at Kleider's once for work; I have not been there this year—I never was in 128, Whitechapel Road; where I went was 428, Mile End Road—Mary Sfweig did not make out the invoice and hand it to Morris—I never was in the shop—I do not know Mr. Nathan Fansner, of 386, Hackney Road, nor do I remember him at Bedford Street, Commercial Road—a man did not speak to me yesterday in a public-house over the way, and kick up a row, but he halloaed at me—I know Cambridge Heath Station; I did not meet him there about two months ago and ask him if he could do with a line or two, nor did he say that he was full up—I have never had any attempt to deal with any of these people in leather or skins of any kind; that is all untrue, that I swear positively—I do not know Kass and Gamble, the leather people, of 21, Fournier Street, Spitalfields—I never acted for them.
Re-examined. I have been abused by people since I have been about this Court—the man in the public-house held out threats to me—I have lived in Philpot Street six years, and never in my life had a charge made against me—I work for my family; I collect work and do it at my own house.
JOSIAH GOLDEN . I am warehouseman to Richard Fawcett, a tanner, of Tower Bridge Road, Bermondsey—on February 25th I packed two cases of calf skins, marked J.M. 9. and J.M. 6124, one containing seventeen dozen waxed ores and the other ten dozen russets, and handed them to a carman of the London and North-Western Railway on the 25th—I put a mark on them and they were consigned to Somerville Brothers, of Kendal—a number of skins have been brought to me by the police; these are the russet ones, they have my private mark, No. 9 on the tail on the waxed ones, and "12" on the outside skin in front, on the russet ores.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. The only mark is that number—that would not be known to everybody—no one who always dealt with he firm would know that that was my mark.
HENRY JOSEPH FAWCETT . I am a tanner and leather dresser, of 20, Church Street, Bermondsey—this is my private mark on these skins, 12 on the russet, and 9 on the wax—I put it on myself—they were in my
warehouse in December—I packed them for delivery to Somerville Brothers, of Kendal.
JOHN JOHNSON . I am a carman employed by the London and North-Western Railway at Haydon Square Goods Station—on February 25th I collected two cases from Fawcett's, the tanners, in Bermondsey, marked J.M. 9 and J.M. 6124—I saw the consignment note addressed to Somerville Brothers, Kendal—I took them to Broad Street Station and backed my van into No. I arch—I left the goods on the van and took the consignment note in.
JOHN HALL . (Re-examined.) I did not unload the cases—Desmond ordered me to make this note out and I did so, and signed it W. Brown—it was addressed "Wright, Griffin Hotel, Luton, by Midland Railway"—it is "Two cases goods, 9 cwt. 2 qrs."—when I made that out the cases were directed to go to Somerville, of Kendal—those are the goods I have pleaded guilty to stealing—I knew what the goods were—the only things I and Desmond together sent astray were cases of leather.
DANIEL DESMOND . (The Prisoner.) I have pleaded guilty to stealing two cases consigned to Somerville, of Kendal—I received them in February at Broad Street—I did not see how they were marked or addressed—I did not get the consignment note—I nailed two cards on them addressed to Wright, Griffin Hotel, Luton—Hall made out the consignment note on his own account—I had been in the habit for some months before of seeing this man outside, and it was in consequence of my conversation with him that I did this on the 25th—I have not sent other cases away.
By the COURT. I got £2 10s. for one lot, and £4 10s. for the other, and Hall got the same—this consignment note was made out at our place—I do not know whose writing it is, it is not mine; there are several of us—I never sent any other goods astray, only four lots altogether.
ROBERT MATTHEW EWAN . I am warehouseman to Somerville Brothers,—of Kendal, boot manufacturers—on February 25th I was expecting two cases of calf skins, seventeen wax and ten russet, value £145 11s. 11d.—they never arrived—I have examined twenty-two dozen and nine skins shown me by Inspector Allen, and signed for them—they were part of the contract.
ALBERT ARRINGTON . I am a checker on the London and North-Western line at Broad Street—it is my duty to attend to goods which go by their lines—we call arch No. 7 the odd lines arch—I found in that arch on February 26th two cases addressed to Wright, Griffin Hotel, Luton, and this consignment note showing where they were to go—they went in the proper van to the Great Northern.
CHARLES JOHN NORRIS . I am a clerk employed at the North-Western Railway at Broad Street—on February 26th I received this consignment' note, and made out a sheet for the transfer of the two cases by Great Northern Railway to Luton.
WILLIAM CHARLES MORLEY SMITH . I am a carman employed by the Great Northern Railway at Luton—I had two cases marked "J. M." removed from another van to my own—these cards addressed to Wright at Luton Station were on them—I left the station with my dray and went
to George Street and saw a man there who I had seen before talking to the checker—I went into a public house and saw a sovereign changed—he signed for the two cases and rubbed the marks out and the numbers—he accompanied me to the Midland Station at Luton, where they were taken off my dray and put on to the Midland line—I had seen the man there two or three times, looking about—I never saw him before or since.
ALBERT GAZELEY . I am a loader at Luton—on February 28th I was on duty at the goods station, and received two cases brought there by the Great Northern carman Smith—there was a man with him who consigned the case to Jackson at St. Pancras goods station, to be called for—this is his writing—he gave me two labels and wrote the address on them, but I did not see it—the labels were the same as the consignment—there were two cases—I loaded them on the train for St. Pancras, London.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. He wrote, "Jackson, St. Pancras," and I wrote, "To be left till called for"—he wrote on the other side, "Two cases," and I wrote," of goods"—I should have stated what the goods were, but I did not know.
THOMAS WATERMAN . I am a checker at St. Pancras goods station—on March 2nd I was on duty there and saw two cases invoiced for Luton to Jackson, till called for—that appeared on the invoice—I placed them on the goods platform and checked the invoice—Cook was the sender.
FREDERICK HILLMAN . I am a checker employed by the Midland at St. Pancras—on March 2nd I was on duty and delivered two cases from Luton to a man who had a pony cart—two men pointed them out to me—the man signed "Jackson," and took them away in a four wheeled van.
PHILIP KASS . (Re-examined.) On March 12th Kleider came to me and I bought three dozen of calf wax skins of him and paid by a bill for £17 13s. 1d.—he gave me this invoice—we used four of the skins, and I handed two dozen and eight to the police.
Cross-examined, by MR. SYMMONS. I told you yesterday that I had already bought another lot of goods—this was an ordinary business transaction, and I paid the proper price—I knew Kleider personally, and I knew where he came from—I knew his name.
EMANUEL GOLDSTEIN . I am a boot and shoe manufacturer, of Catherine Street, Hackney Road—I knew Kleider by that name—he came to me on March 13th and we had some conversation about fourteen dozen calf skins which he had left at my place on the previous day—I asked where he got them because the price was a little high—he said that he bought them in a bankrupt's stock—I have known him fourteen or fifteen years—I did not buy them, but I kept six because he said, he would come on Saturday morning for an answer about the fourteen dozen—he called on the Saturday morning, but I was out—he left word that he would come on the Monday, but he did not because he was arrested.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. When I heard of his arrest I went to the station at once and told them I had got the six skins, and handed them to the police on Tuesday night—I had bought sixty dozen glace Persian skins of him before that—I cannot say whether that was the same week.
Re-examined. I paid him by cheque on April 8th after he had been arrested—he was out on bail.
JACOB WATERS . I am cashier to S. Franklin and Sons—on March 16th Jacobovitch came there and offered me a line of waxed calf—my principal was not there, and he left leaving a parcel which the police took possession of the same day—he had not called again.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. He said he would call back in the afternoon, but before he came the police arrived.
FREDERICK WENSLEY . (Re-examined.) On March 25th I arrested Kleider and Jacobovitch, and charged them with receiving leather, value £140, the property of the North Western Railway, Company on or about February 20th—Kleider said, "Pam introduced me to the thief who I bought it from, if it had not been for him I should not have bought it; this man is innocent, he gets 36s. per week," pointing to Jacobovitch—Kleider said, "What £140? why it is not worth it."
Jacobovitch, in his defence on oath, said he was only a servant at a salary of 35s. a week; that the cheques found appearing to be his were in favour of another man Yacobovitch; that when the merchant John Morris was introduced to his employers by Mr. Pam, a respectable tradesman, he had no reason to suppose the shins were stolen, and when he sold for cash he sold in his own name, and when he sold for credit he gave the name of the firm, and had nothing to do with the actual purchase, and that neither he or his father ever received a penny.
Kleider in his defence on oath, said that he was manager to H. Morris and Co., who succeeded the Palace Shoe Manufacturing Company, the business of his wife, and that by the financial aid from her and other friends he con-ducted the business, in the course of which Mr. Pam, a respectable tradesman known to him, introduced Mr. John Morris, a merchant, from whom he purchased skins alleged to be bankrupt's stock, and bought at auction sales, and that he had no suspicion of the skins being stolen; that the business was carried on openly as shown by the books, invoices, receipts, and other papers produced; and that Jacobovitch was his servant at a salary.
Evidence for Kleider.
DAVIS GESUNDHEIT . I live at 4, Old Gravel Lane—I have known Kleider two years—he employed me eleven weeks for the Palace Manufacturing Company as a laster in the Mile End Road—I fetched my work home—I took it in between two and three in the day—I knew Morris Pam for several years as a laster—I knew his daughter, who worked for Kleider—one day I saw two men in the shop—a man was standing outside—they brought in some stuff—one was Mr. Pam—I was by the wicket, which is a hole in the door where the governor takes in the work—I saw them when they were passing the door with parcels of box calf from the street.
Cross-examined. I cannot speak proper English—I was asked to give evidence when Mr. Kleider came to me about four weeks ago—he came to find me out—he asked me whether I remembered the last time I worked for him, seeing two men—I said, "I cannot say I know two men, only one
man, and that is Pam"—then I was asked as a favour to go to the solicitor and give a statement—I did not hear that Kleider was given into custody, but when I called Mrs. Kleider said, "No work to-day"—working a few weeks at home I was not able to see Kleider taken away—I did not know that Pam had given evidence against Kleider at the Police Court—I have known Pam five or six years—I know his son and daughter—his family is most respectable.
Re-examined. I made a statement—it was taken down in writing in the solicitor's office—it was about what I had seen—I signed it with my name—I cannot remember whether there was a pony with the van, or two horses—I did not see anyone driving.
MARY SFWEIG . I live at 28, Nelson Street—Kleider is my brother-in-law—I was his cashier in February for the firm of H. W. Morris and Co.—I remember in February two gentlemen calling to sell some wax calf—they were strangers—I heard them addressed as Mr. Morris and Mr. Pam in conversation—they came a little before one o'clock—they brought samples—they came again after the transaction was made—I heard the bargaining—then they went away—after a while they came back with the goods; about half an hour—the goods were brought in—I was in the shop—I saw Kleider hand £60 to Morris—he paid him for the fifteen dozen which lie bought at £4 a dozen—Morris receipted the bill and handed to Kleider, who gave it to me—I mislaid it, I do not know where I put it—in addition ten dozen white box skins were left on approval—I have not seen these strangers since till I met Pam outside the Court yesterday—you called him in—I have no doubt he is the same Pam—there was a desk in the office; everybody could go to it, it was kept unlocked—about two days after the gentlemen left I kept looking for the invoice which I had mislaid, when I found this blank receipt near the doorway—not knowing what it was I put it in the desk to make inquiries, but I never heard Kleider say he missed anything, and I forgot all about it.
Cross-examined. The blank receipt was under a lot of shelves, near the street door—I was at the shop when Kleider was taken by the police on March 16th, and I am there still—a young man kept the books—I used to put entries in a book—I put down the petty cash that I paid—as a rule Kleider used to pay—the money was kept in the safe—I have seen about £100 there, mostly in gold, but there were one or two small notes—I never kept the books regularly—I do not know this invoice book—I do not understand bookkeeping—I know the boy Solomon Perle's writing—this is his writing (This was in red ink, and stated that an invoice of March 3rd, containing three items, was lost.)—I put the blank receipt in my desk to make inquiries, and forgot it—I saw Mr. Morris sign the receipt of the money for the skins—I was the other side of the counter—it was not this receipt for £63, it was for wax calf—Pam and Morris were there—I know it was £60 Kleider took out of the safe and paid Morris, because I remember that Kleider bought fifteen dozen wax calf skins at £4 a dozen.
Cross-examined by MR. VALETTA. Jacobovitch was traveller to H. W. Morris and Company, at a salary. Re-examined. I was only present at one sale when the two men came—
the boy who kept the books was about as old as myself, about seventeen—as cashier I paid my brother-in-law Kleider, as secretary to the Company, £3 a week—that is in the petty cash book—I took the money from my desk, where I put the takings—we sold retail over the counter, grindery and for the leather trade—I used to take cash and help at the counter—I kept the books of cash paid and received—I was paid 15s. a week—I commenced to serve as cashier a few days after the business was open—H. W. Morris was a director of H. W. Morris and Company—my mother had a few shares in it—it was not my sister's business—she is Kleider's wife—Mr. H. W. Morris came to the shop now and then, but Kleider was in the shop to make all business transactions—Morris enquired how we were getting on—the Palace Shoe Manufacturing Company was still going on, and executed some of our orders at 409, Mile End Road—I do not know what became of that business.
HARRIS ABRAHAMS . I am secretary to my father and brother, who are in business as Abrahams and Sons, Limited, boot and shoe manufacturers and leather dealers, at 28, Commercial Road—I knew Kleider, he did business as a boot and shoe manufacturer at 25, Commercial Road, which is opposite—on April 24th I read a report of this case at the police court, in which Pam's name was mentioned, in consequence of which I wrote to Osborn and Osborn, solicitors to Samuel Kleider—I knew Pam because he had been working for us as a laster—I saw him at the latter end of last year, or the beginning of this, when he tried to sell us some leather; some brown and black skins.
Cross-examined. I never did business with Kleider—I knew Morris and Company—all business transactions were through Jacobovitch, the traveller—he called in March with a sample of box calf—this order is in my writing, but as the skins were not delivered in time I sent them back.
ISIDORE ABRAHAM . I am the last witness's brother, and one of the firm of Abrahams and Sons, Limited, 28, Commercial Road—I remember Pam coming to our place the end of last year, or the beginning of this—he brought a parcel of skins to sell.
HENRY JACKSON . I am a general dealer of 1, Ball's Pond Place, Ball's Pond Road—I have seen Morris Pam here—two gentlemen called in February to sell some leather—I think Pam was one—the other was introduced to me as Mr. Morris.
Cross-examined. I have known Kleider some years—I dealt with him some years ago—I dealt in leather, automatic machines, and cigars—I produce my licence and a bill—I used to have a business at 25, Red Lion Street, Holborn—I have given up tobacco and automatic machines—I used to sell to publicans—I am no scholar, and kept no books; I never did large enough business to need them—I got tobacco from different warehouses and from manufacturers, and sold it to publicans in small quantities.
Re-examined. I have bought leather from Kass and Gamble—the last time was three or four weeks ago—I gave up the automatic machines because they are condemned now—I said I had not dealt in leather lately—I have a strong suspicion that that is the man Pam.
MAX YACOBOVITCH . I am one of the firm of Yacobovitch and Company, 149, St. George's Street, and the manager for that firm—we have done business with Kleider—I remember his paying me a cheque in March for £58 2s. 5d.—this is the pass book of my firm—this is my paying in slip—I paid the cheque into the bank the same day I had it, March 2nd.
KLEIDER, GUILTY .— Eighteen months' hard labour.
JACOBOVITCH, GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Six months' hard' labour. HALL and DESMOND— Eight months' hard labour each.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, May 20th, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. MAURICE. Prosecuted.
HENRY THOMSON . I am a rivetter—on May 2nd, about 11.45 p.m., I was in Clerkenwell, and asked the prisoner the way to Kensington—while he was directing me he snatched my watch—I got hold of him and he bit me on my finger, compelling me to let go—he ran a little distance, but I recaptured him, and during the struggle a constable came up—the watch and chain is worth about 25s.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not say at the police court that you ran away and the constable stopped you; he came up during the struggle after I had re-captured you—I was not drunk; I had had a few glasses of beer—I was not being helped along by two men.
CYRIL DAWES . (409 G.) I was on duty on the night of May 2nd, and heard cries—I ran in the direction of the cries and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner struggling together—Thomson gave the prisoner into custody—in Gee Street a lad gave me this watch and chain (Produced) saying, "Hold him tight, he has slung this away"—I requested the lad to come to the station, but he did not do so—the prosecutor identified the watch and chain at the station, and the prisoner said, "That is all right."
Cross-examined. You did not say "This is all right to be brought here for nothing."
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at Clerken-well on May 14th, 1893, and three other convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. HEDDON. Prosecuted and MR. PURCELL. Defended.
over trifling matters—I aggravated him a little-when I went upstairs to bed, I pulled the bed up and said I was going to sleep on the floor—he then took this gun (Produced.) off the wall, and said he would shoot me, or something to that effect, and pointed it to the floor, and it went off—I was not lying on the floor when it went off—he was the worse for drink.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. We have been married fourteen years, and he has been a very kind and good husband to me—I knew he did not mean to hurt me when he took" the gun off the wall—I was frightened when it went off, and sent for the police—my husband was let out on bail at the police court, and I have been living with him ever since.
WINIFRED PHILLIPS . I am the prisoner's daughter, and am thirteen years old—on the night of April 24th mother went upstairs and pulled the bedding off of the bedstead, and put it on the floor—the bed is in the middle of the room—she was standing on one side of the bed, and father on the other, when he shot the gun to the floor.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure mother was not lying down on the floor.
MARK REEVES . (35 X.) I was in West Road, Kensal Town, on the night of April 24th—I saw the prisoner and his wife and child in the street—he said to me, "Hallo, what is the matter?"—I said, "I do not know, I have just come to see"—his wife then said, "Oh, my husband came into the bedroom and pointed a gun at me, and said he would blow my brains out"; I saw a flash and heard a report"—I went into the house to search for the gun, but was unable to find it—coming downstairs the wife passed me, and said to the prisoner, who was at the bottom of the stairs, "Ted, you did intend to shoot me"—he said, "Yes, and I will do it again"—she then gave him in charge and I took him to the station—afterwards I returned to the house with Detective Sergeant Burrow, and I found this bullet (Produced) on the table in the bedroom, where the offence is alleged to have been committed—the charge was read over to the prisoner; he made no reply.
Cross-examined. At the police station the prosecutrix refused to sign the charge sheet—at the police court the prisoner said. "I did not threaten to shoot her a second time."
WILLIAM BURRELL . (Detective Sergeant X.) On April 25th, about 3.30 I went to the prisoner's address, and found the gun under an old mangling machine in a room at the back (of the house—I examined it and found it had a spent cartridge in the breach—I showed it to the prisoner, and he said, "Yes, that is the gun."
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about ten years, and during that time he has always borne a very good character.
NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
MR. HEDDON., for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON. Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL. Defended.
GUILTY . Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. MAHAFFY. Prosecuted.
JOSEPH VALINSKY . (Interpreted.) On the night of May 10th I was with my brother in the Polish Club in Little Turner Street—we left just after ten o'clock—going along Little Turner Street I saw the prisoner with some other men, and as we passed him he jumped at my brother with a knife—when I saw the knife I pushed him away, and he then jumped at me and stabbed me in the neck—he then ran away, but my brother caught him, and he was taken to the police station—I do not know why he stabbed me—we had not been quarrelling; I had never seen him before.
FARNK VALINSKY . (Interpreted.) I left the Polish Club with my brother on May 10th—we were going home, and passed the prisoner standing at the corner of the street with some other men—he rushed at me with a knife—my brother pushed him away, and then he stabbed him in the neck—he ran away, but I caught him—he was not at the Polish Club—we had not had any quarrel with him—my brother did not strike him first.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. We were not drinking together.
DR. GRANT. (Divisional Surgeon H.) At 11.15 p.m. on May 10th, I examined Joseph Valinsky—I found him suffering from a wound on the left side of his neck, an inch long and an inch and three-quarters deep—it could have been inflicted with this knife (Produced.)—it was inflicted from above, downwards—I do not think it could have been done in self-defence—the prosecutor must have been standing with his back towards the prisoner when it was inflicted.
JOHN GIRLING . (5 H.) At 11 p.m., on May 10th. I saw the prosecutor bleeding from a wound in his neck in Little Turner Street—I sent him to the station with a constable, and sent another one for a doctor—I afterwards saw the prisoner, and told him I should arrest him for stabbing a man in Little Turner Street—he replied "This is it," and produced a knife from his pocket—when charged he made no reply.
Prisoner's defence. The prosecutor challenged me to fight, and I used the knife in self-defence.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY . Discharged on his own recognisances.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, May 21st, 1903.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. MCMURPHY. Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON. Defended.
JOHN HENRY HOBBS . I live at 21, Halcombe Street-, Hammersmith, and am a flie man at the Hammersmith Theatre of Varieties—I have been there over three years—I first went there as a stage hand at 6s. a week—I was afterwards promoted to flie man and received 10s. a week—I also did some bill-posting, for which I got 6s. a week—it is customary for the employees to receive their money in sealed envelopes, which were given out by the prisoner—I never received my money in an envelope—the prisoner was the stage manager—he left on Saturday, June 28th, 1902, and on the following Friday he came to my house about four o'clock and told me that instead of receiving 16s. I should receive £1 in future—the next evening I received £1 in an envelope marked "Hobbs"—it was given me by Mr. Marsham, the new stage manager—I afterwards had a conversation with Mr. Reeves, the general manager, and in consequence I went to see the prisoner at his house—I asked him what he intended to do, and he said, "Understand, Mr. Coe is my master, not Mr. Reeves at all; if I ever get you over here again I will kick your b----a----"; as I was going away he said, "I will tell you what you can do, you can County Court me"—Mr. Coe is the proprietor of the music hall.
Cross-examined. I signed for the 10s. for my work in the flies every Friday, and for the 6s. for bill posting every Saturday—I was engaged on billing every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday—the Thursdays and Fridays were full days, for which I received 2s. 6d. a day; the Saturday, was only half a day, for which I received 1s.—two boys were also engaged in billing—I do not know what they were paid—Mr. Reeves told me that I ought to have been receiving £1 a week for some weeks before I did—I only went to see the prisoner once—I never wrote to him for the money—when he came to my house I saw Thomas, the head waiter at the theatre, with him—I did not see the prisoner at the theatre between June and September, and did not know he had been there.
Re-examined. Before Read came to my house and told me, I had no idea I was to receive £1 a week.
FREDERICK REEVES . I have been general manager of the Hammersmith Theatre of Varieties over three years—it is part of my duty to make up the salary lists—the salary that each employee is to receive is entered in the books—for the last weekin March, 1901, Hobbs is entered as receiving 19s.—on April 20th, 1901, he is entered as receiving £1—when he first started there under my management he was a stage hand at 1s. a night; after he had been there some time he was made bill man for three days a week, for which he received 10s.; that made his money 16s.; after that he was made head flie man, and given 1s. 6d. a night instead of 1s., which made his money 19s., and that seemed to me to be a funny amount, so. Read and I agreed to give him £1 a week—I made the salaries up myself,
and handed the sealed envelopes with the man's name written across to Bead to distribute—on June 14th I remember a sovereign being put into Hobb's envelope—no one else was entitled to any portion of it, and if the prisoner opened the envelope and gave any portion of it to somebody else it would have been contrary to his duty—the amount of salary is not entered in the signature book, so the person signing for the money would have no opportunity of seeing whether he received the right amount or not.
Cross-examined. "Hobbs, billing" was not written on the envelope containing Hobbs' money, only "Hobbs"—I first found out that there had been a defalcation when Hobbs spoke to me at the end of June last—Hobbs had been in the habit of signing twice for his salary—when it was raised to £1 he continued to sign twice for a short time, but afterwards he only signed once—it is untrue that I have got up this charge because of any ill feeling—Bead has a right to engage anyone for billing, but if he did so he ought to have come to me and asked me for the money, and he would have had it.
SARAH HOBBS . I am the wife of John Henry Hobbs, of 21, Halcombe Street, Hammersmith—the prisoner called at our house in July—I did not see anyone with him—my husband opened the door to him, and I heard him say that he had come round to tell him that he had had his wages raised, and instead of receiving 16s., in future he would get £1.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not come into the house; he stood on the doorstep—I heard the conversation quite distinctly.
CHARLES THOMAS . I live at 5, Cromwell Avenue, and am head waiter at the Hammersmith Music Hall—about the time the prisoner was leaving he asked me for Hobbs' address—I told him I did not know it, but would find it for him—I eventually found it, and went with him to the house—I knocked at the door—Hobbs answered it, and I told him that Mr. Read wished to speak to him—I then went away.
Cross-examined. I did not give evidence before the Magistrate, nor at the trial last Monday when the jury disagreed (See page 719)—Mr. Reeves first asked me to give evidence—I have been waiter at the hall nearly eleven years.
Cross-examined. He surrendered himself at the police court—he has been let out on his own recognisances.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that 10s. a week was given to him for billing, to expend as he pleased; that he paid Hobbs 6s. and two boys 2s. each for distributing hand bills; and that Hobbs' story of his (the prisoner's) going to his house was all an invention.
NOT GUILTY .
ROBERTS PLEADED GUILTY. to the attempt, also to indecently assaulting the said girls.
MR. BODKIN. Prosecuted and MR. BURNIE. Defended
DUPREZ, GUILTY . Six months' hard labour . Four previous convictions were proved against ROBERTS. Twenty-two months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, May 22nd, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. A. C. ARNOLD. Prosecuted; MR. BIRON. Defended.
FREDERICK BISHOP . I am a stoker, and belong to the barracks termed "H.M.S. Pembroke"—on April 26th, I was passing down Packenham Street, St. Pancras, about 8.30 or 9—I saw a young man striking a girl—I tried to pull him away from her, and while doing so the prisoner put a knife into my leg—he was with a gang of twenty or thirty youths—I am quite sure it was the prisoner—I seized him by the throat, but his mates forced me to let go my hold—the gang walked away playing mouth organs—I followed with another mail, a stranger to me—I lost sight of the prisoner, but the other man kept him in view—I next saw the prisoner in Rosamond Street, and gave him into custody—he' said. "I never stabbed you, sailor"—I then went to the hospital and had my wound dressed—I have been in hospital fourteen days—the wound is not yet healed up.
Cross-examined. It was about a quarter of a mile from where I was stabbed, to the street where I next saw the prisoner and gave him into custody—I held him the first time by the handkerchief before he got away, for about twenty minutes—I identified him by his face—the other man came into the station at Clerkenwell, but he has not been seen since.
JOHN WEST . I was medical officer at the Royal Free Hospital—I attended the prosecutor on April 26th for a wound on his thigh about half an inch—long, with rather jagged edges; there was also a slight cut an inch or an inch and a quarter below it—I just dressed it, and he went away.
JOHN KEMP . (265 G.) The prisoner was given into my custody on April—26th, at 9.45, in Rosamond Street—I took him to the station and charged him—he replied, "Well, I never done it"—a young man followed us to the station, but he went away before we could get his name and address.
Cross-examined. I did not hear the prisoner say, "I never stabbed you, sailor."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that he never stabbed the
prosecutor; that he had not a knife in his possession; that he was with fifteen or sixteen other boys; and that he went to see a fight that was going on.
Evidence for the Defence.
THOMAS SWEENEY . I am a dyer, and am prisoner's father—he has been four or five years with a printer, and has always been a good lad—he brings his wages home regularly, and has never been quarrelsome or of a fighting disposition.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ELLIOTT. Prosecuted.
WILLIAM TUTHILL . (544 N.) About 6.30 on May 1st, in consequence of a communication I received, I went to 213, High Street, Stoke Newing-ton, which is a library—I found the prisoner lying on the floor in the shop, unconscious—she smelt strongly of laudanum—I at once administered an emetic—she became conscious and vomited—she then said, "Give me that bag," which was lying on the floor, "I want to kill myself"—I sent for Dr. Macdonald, who came, and after a little treatment the prisoner was taken to the German Hospital—pinned to her bodice I found a piece of paper with the words, "You take me to the French Hospital, Shaftesbury Avenue, and let know it 45, Wardour Street.—M.D."—in her bag I found these two full bottles—one is labelled" laudanum and oil" and the other "laudanum."
BLANCHE ASHDOWN . I live at 29, Dale View Street, Stamford Hill, and am an assistant to Miss Burr, who carries on a library at 213, High Street, Stoke Newington—on May 1st, about 6.30, the prisoner came into the shop—she asked for Miss Burr—I knocked for Miss Burr—when she came the prisoner was just putting a bottle on the counter—she had her back to the counter—I could not see what she was doing—I went for Dr. Macdonald.
EMMA MARTIN BURR . I live at 213, High Street, Stoke Newington, and carry on a library there—I had seen the prisoner twice before May 1st—she is married, and her husband keeps a restaurant—one of her visits to my shop was in connection with a young man, a friend of mine, who lives next door—on May 1st I came into the shop and saw the prisoner sitting on a chair beside the counter with her head thrown back—I thought she had fainted—I got a glass of water, and then saw a small bottle—I sent for a doctor and a policeman—I saw the piece of paper pinned on her dress—I knew all about the trouble between the prisoner and the young man—she was taken to the German Hospital.
MYRA ESKETH SAUNDERS .—I am a travelling nurse, and live at The Lilies, Beechwood—I first saw the prisoner at a meeting at the Portman Rooms—she told me she was not friendly with her husband, and had to leave him, as he was seeking a divorce—she appeared to be in great trouble—I next saw her in the German Hospital on May 3rd—she seemed
to be in a despairing state of mind—I next saw her on the 8th at Holloway—she said she was very sorry, and would not do it again—I think the cause of her taking the poison was her affection for a young man who had become engaged to a lady—I have seen her husband, who is willing to allow her £1 a week, and I have a home to take her to.
Prisoner's Defence. "I was in great trouble; I never had anything to eat, and when I took this poison I really do not know if I was in my right senses. I am very sorry for what I did. If you will let me go I shall not do it again."
GUILTY . The witness Sounders undertook to look after her. Five days' imprisonment.
MR. BIRON. Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER. appeared for Fisher, and MR. METCALFE. for Sharpley.
GEORGE WILLIAM COOKMAN . I live at 11, Wormwood Road, and am chief clerk in the grain office of the Millwall Dock Company—grain is consigned to corn dealers—application for it is made to us by the buyer, and then an order is issued by the seller, that is the man to whom the grain is consigned—the Company's servants compare the order with the entries in the ledgers, and if all is in order the delivery of the grain is authorised by the ledger clerk—he hands the order to the carman who has come for the grain, with a weight note and a pass-out note, who takes it to the grain department, presided over by Mr. Aldridge, and receives the grain—the carman signs the foreman's book and the foreman retains the delivery order, handing back the weight note and the pass-out note—on arriving at the gates he gives the pass to the constable and retains the weight note—that is what happens the first time—assuming there is more than he can take at one time, he makes application for a sub order, producing an authority from the buyer of the grain—that has to be done each time.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. The delivery order from Bovill's was made out on a form kept by Bovill's—if an order with Bovill's name came which was not on one of their regular forms it would not be accepted—all dealers have their own regular forms, which are recognised '—the order in this case was probably obtained by somebody who had access to Bovill and Son's papers.
SAMUEL JENNINGS . I am a carman, of 92, North Street, Poplar—I have known Fisher nine or ten years—he has brakes which he drives and lets out, and Sharpley I have known three or four years; he goes out with a brake—on March 27th Fisher called on me and asked me if I could do a pair and lend him a van to cart some oats—I agreed—he came next morning, and Sharpley came with two horses—I let them have a van and two horses and a van and a man—they had one van about twelve or fourteen days and the other van for four days—I cannot read, and I just sign my name—the signature on the order (Exhibit D) is not mine.
Cross-examined. On Tuesday, March 31st, he showed me some oats and asked me if I would buy some—I asked him how much they were—he said 17s. a quarter—I agreed to give him 16s. 6d. for 25 quarters—he said, "All right"—I had them next day—he called some time after for the money and I gave him £5 on account, dated April 3rd—he gave me this receipt "Received of Mr. S. Jennings the sum of £5 on account of oats."
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. The price of oats varies a good deal from time to time—I have known Fisher as a perfectly respectable man—he has horses and stables of his own—this was all done openly—I had no suspicion that there was anything wrong.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I have known Sharpley four years as a thoroughly respectable man.
JOHN HEWETT . I am a corn merchant at 103, Victoria Dock Road—on March 28th Fisher came and asked me the price of oats—I said 16s. a quarter—he then asked me if I would buy some, producing an order made out to Jennings to collect from the Millwall Docks—I said I would have 125 quarters at 15s. 6d.—they were delivered at my place—I lent him 200 sacks—I got 50 quarters on the 28th and 75 on the 30th—Sharpley came with them on the 28th with Jennings' van—I paid £20 on account on the 30th to Fisher—I gave an open cheque (Produced.)
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. Fisher has dealt with me some years—he has always been straightforward in our dealings—I had no suspicion about this transaction—when the police came I gave up all the corn I had not disposed of.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I only know Sharpley by sight. Harry Thomas Hall. I live at 100, Stevendale Street, and am a ledger clerk in the employment of the Millwall Dock Company—on March 28th somebody brought me a delivery order for 150 quarters of oats—I cannot say who it was—it was an order similar to the one now before me—it was from Bovill and Sons to deliver to W. Jennings—I looked at our ledger and saw that Bovill had some oats from the Jaffa—I marked the order and gave it back to the carman with a pass out—on April 1st I remember signing another pass out note for 5 quarters of oats from the Jaffa—they were all the oats left of the 150 quarters—they were not taken away.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I never saw Fisher at the docks.
WILLIAM GEORGE MILLER . I live at 19, Melba Street, Millwall, and am assistant ledger clerk to the Millwall Docks Company—Sharpley came to my window at the Docks on March 30th and presented a sub-order for 50 quarters of Jaffa oats—I made out a pass and then gave him back the suborder and the original delivery order—this is the sub-order which he produced, purporting to be signed by Jennings—he came again on the 31st with an order purporting to come from Bobb and Sons for 200 quarters of oats to be delivered to Mr. W. Jennings—he took away 75 quarters—he again came on April 1st and asked for 50 quarters—I gave him a pass—out note—he came later the same day for another 50 quarters—on April 2nd Sharpley again came about 10 a.m. and asked for the remaining 25 quarters—I made out a pass note for that and gave him back the sub-order and the
original order for the 200—he took them away—the 25 quarters have not been taken out of the docks.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I never saw Fisher there.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. This appeared to be a perfectly open and straightforward transaction—Sharpley did not come disguised.
CHARLES WILLIAM HALL . I live at 23, Forest Road, Forest Gate, and am a ledger clerk with the Mill wall Dock Company—on March 30th, at 1.30, somebody applied for 50 quarters of oats—I gave him the document produced—he had given me a sub-order signed "W. Jennings."
GEORGE ALDRIDGE . I live at 107, Melly Street, Millwall, and am a foreman of one of the sections of the grain department at the Millwall Docks—on March 28th about 2.5 Sharpley presented an order like this one of Bovill's orders—he showed me the pass-out note (B.)—I made an entry in the delivery book—he was allowed to take away 50 quarters on signing this receipt in this book—it is in the name of Smith—he came again twice on March 30th and took away 50 quarters the first time and 45 the second time—each time he produced the necessary documents and signed for it in our book in the name of Smith—that left of the 150 order, 5 quarters which have never been applied for—he came again on March 31st, at 4.30, and the same thing was gone through—he took out all except 25 quarters by the same process—he signed for it all in the name of Smith—I have seen certain oats which were taken by the police from Fisher's yard in a sack, and identify them as part of the goods taken away.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I saw Smith sign the delivery book—I cannot say whether the writing of the signature on the forged document signed Jennings is the same or not.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I am positive that Sharpley was the man who signed as Smith—he came with several carmen, sufficient to load the van.
ALFRED JOHN PHILLIPS . I am a granary foreman at the Millwall Docks—on April 1st I gave Sharpley 43. quarters and some odd pounds of oats from the Jaffa—later the same day I delivered him 50 quarters—he signed the book on each occasion as Smith.
ALFRED CHAMPION . I live at 132, Rosendale Road, West Dulwich, and am manager to Bovill and Sons, Corn Merchants—we issue orders similar to document "A" to get goods out of the Millwall Docks—on March 28th we had a cargo consigned to us from the Jaffa—we never issued any order to Jennings authorising him to collect any goods—I do not know him, and never had any transaction with him.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. We did not deal with either of the prisoners and I do not know them.
WILLIAM NEVILLE . I am a carman and contractor of 13, Outram Street, Plaistow—on April 1st I had 25 quarters of oats delivered by a man named Macdonald, which I had bought the day before through Jennings for Fisher at 16s. 6d.—I paid him £10 on account—I have known the prisoners all my life—Sharpley drove for Fisher up to last August, since when he has started on his own account.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I do not know that Sharpley
rents part of Fisher's yard—I have always known Fisher as a thoroughly respectable man.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I have known Sharpley all my life as a thoroughly respectable man.
RICHARD GEORGE RIDLEY . I live at 7, Oxford Road, Walthamstow, and am a job master—I saw Fisher on April 2nd at Stapleton's Horse Repository—he there showed me some oats and asked me whether I would buy some—I said, "Well, I have partly bought some; I do not want any"—he asked 16s. a quarter—at last he said, "If you like to have 20 quarters you can have them at 15s." so I agreed to have 20 quarters—it was a low price—the next day Sharpley brought them—I paid Fisher £15—this is the receipt—he then asked me if I knew anybody else who could do with any—I went with him to Mr. Silverton, to whom he sold some—I met the two prisoners the next day and told them that a Mr. Bailey would take all they had got at 15s. 6d., and gave them Bailey's card.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I have known Fisher a great many years as a thoroughly respectable man.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I have known Sharpley three or four years as a driver of a brake—I have seen him with a badge.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. It was not extraordinary that he should come for the money the next day—it was an ordinary cash transaction.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I paid a fair price—I do not know Sharpley at all.
ARTHUR JAMES STALLARD . I am a licensed victualler, of the Castle Tavern, Barking Road—I have known Fisher for about four years; the whole time I have been there—he came to me on April 9th and asked me to cash this cheque—I told him I would put it through my bank, and as soon as I found it had been met I would give him an open cheque as I did not know the drawer—it was duly honoured, but I did not give him my cheque—the money is lying in the bank.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I knew Fisher as a job master and brake proprietor—I had only cashed a cheque for him once before.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I know Sharpley only as a customer, and I have seen him driving one of Fisher's brakes.
RICHARD WEDDON . (Detective K.) On April 10th, about 8 p.m., I saw Fisher conducting his own omnibus in the East India Dock Road—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with another man in stealing a quantity of oats from the Millwall Docks Company between March 28th and April 2nd—he replied, "I sold some oats, but did not steal any; a man came to my yard on Tuesday week, March 31st; I do not know who he is; he asked me if I could do with any oats. I said,' I will go to my corn dealer and ask him if he wants any.' I saw Mr. Hope of Victoria Dock Road, he bought some; I do not remember how many, but he has not paid me anything for them yet. I sold some to Mr. Jennings; I do not
know how many he had; I have received £5 on account from him. I have not sold any to anyone else nor received any money"—I then took him to the station, where he was detained.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. He was remanded on bail once or twice—I have heard that while on bail he came to Sergeant Burton of his own accord, and voluntarily gave a list of all the people to whom he sold oats—I do not know that I read my note of his statement to him—he did not add "March 31st" after "Tuesday week"—I said to him, "That will be March 31st?"—he said, "Yes"—I am absolutely certain he did not say "Tuesday fortnight."
Re-examined. He accepted the date of March 31st when I put it to him. George Burton (Detective-Sergeant K.) On April 21st, about 9 p.m., I saw Sharpley at Oldbury Police Station, Worcestershire, where he had surrendered—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with Harry Fisher and others in stealing 320 quarters of oats from the Millwall Docks—he said, "Fisher's nothing in it; I only fetched it away; I have written out a paper," which is attached to the deposition (Marked "R")—he further said that a gentleman came into Fisher's yard and asked if he would sell about 320 quarters of corn for him for 15s. a quarter—he described the gentleman as wearing a high silk hat and spectacles, who he had seen frequently since, because he got on his 'bus: that he gave an order from Messrs. Bovill and Sons for 150 quarters, and he took it to the docks and took the stuff away, that the same gentleman told him to sign the book of the Dock Company; he said he could not understand why; in the name of Smith; "If you will look in the books of the Dock Company you will find I have signed in the name of Smith"—I charged Fisher on the 11th—he made no answer—I received forty-eight sacks from Mr. Jennings and thirty-four from Mr. Neville—on April 14th I took nine sacks of mixture from Fisher's yards; they were in a stable rented by Sharpley—they contained corn, identified as stolen from the docks; also 208 from Mr. Hope—I have seen Fisher and Sharpley together—they are both licensed drivers.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. Sharpley is a fairly well to do man—Fisher has two licenses, as a proprietor and one as a conductor, which he has held I believe for thirteen years—Sharpley told me that all Fisher had had to do with him was to help him sell the oats.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I suggest that Sharpley was running away from justice when he went into the country—he went away that he should take the whole blame; that was told me by the defence.
By MR. LEYCESTER. It is the fact that Mr. Stern, Fisher's solicitor, told me he had written to Sharpley asking him to surrender—he showed me a telegram from Sharpley saying that he would surrender, and that is how it came about.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. For ordinary good oats 15s. 6d. or 16s. would not be a low wholesale price.
Fisher, in his defence on oath, stated that he was a job master, and had been
in business sixteen or seventeen years; that Sharpley used to rent a three-stall stable in his yard; that about March 23rd a gentleman came to him and asked him if he would buy oats, and he said he did not require any; that Sharpley then came up and he left them talking; that on March 25th or 26th Sharpley came to him and said he had a lot of oats to sell for the gentleman he had spoken to, that he (Fisher) asked him how much he wanted, and he said he (Fisher) could have all he could make over 15s. a quarter, and that thereupon he endeavoured to sell to some to people he knew; that he had no idea there was anything dishonest in the way Sharpley had got them, and that he had acted throughout as the innocent agent of Sharpley.
Evidence for Fisher.
FREDERICK A. S. STERN . Fisher's father came to see me and in conesquence of what Fisher told me I told Fisher's father to find out where Sharpley was—having done so, I wrote to Sharpley asking him to come up at once and surrender, and I received a telegram from him saying that he was coming up.
FISHER received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
SHARPLEY, GUILTY .— Nine months' hard labour.
FOURTH COURT—Friday, May 22nd, 1903.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. ABINGER. Prosecuted.
GUILTY. on the second count . Twenty months' hard labour.
(For the case of Simon Isenberg, tried this day, see Essex cases.)
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 25th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
OLD COURT. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, May 20th, 21st, and 22nd, and Monday, Tuseday, and Wednesday, May 25th, 26th, and 27th, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. DRUMMOND. prosecuted.
HARRY SAYERS . I am the deputy of a lodging house at 56, Flower and Dean Street, Whitechapel, and live at No. 2—I have known the deceased about five years—she slept regularly at the lodging house—she was about 60 years old—I do not know what her occupation was—she used to go out
in the evenings and return early next morning—I do not know what her habits were—she has never brought a man back with her—I have only seen her drunk occasionally—I believe she was a widow—she paid 6d. a night—she hardly ever spoke to anybody, she was very quiet and kept to herself—I remember her going out on April 13th—she was then in, her usual state—she returned alone about 1.55 next morning with a bandage round her head—her left eye was black and bleeding and entirely closed, and her nose was bleeding—she went to bed—I saw her again about 10 a.m.—she was sitting on her bed—she seemed to be rambling—she could not walk—I sent for the relieving officer, who sent for the doctor—the deceased was taken to the infirmary.
CATHARINE MURRAY . I am the night porteress at the lodging house at 56, Flower and Dean Street—I have known the deceased for about 15 years—I never heard her speak of her husband—she was a select person and never told anybody her business—she only sold matches and boot laces—I never knew her the worse for drink—she took a small portion of ale now and again—on April 13th I saw her go out in perfectly good health about 8.30 p.m.—I saw her return between 1.30 and 2 a.m.—she had a surgical bandage round her head and her left eye was blackened and swollen—I was present when she was taken to the infirmary—I have never seen her going about with men—she was between 62 and 63.
CHARLES SHIPLEY . (363 J.) On April 14th, about 12.30 a.m., I was on duty in the Mile End Road with Constable Uffingdel—we were opposite the People's Palace—I saw the prisoner—he had passed the deceased who was also there—he was walking east and in the opposite direction to her—when I first saw him he was about six yards from her—I did not see them pass one another—the prisoner stopped, turned round and ran towards the "deceased, and with his left hand struck her a swinging blow on the face—he was then at her side—she apparently heard him coming and turned round and met the full force of the blow in her face—it was a violent blow and it lifted her right off her feet and knocked her into the road about 1 1/2 yards from the kerb—she was a small woman and rather frail—she fell face downwards—the road is paved with stone sets—she was then about 1 1/2 miles from her home—after she fell I did not see her move—I rushed across the road with the other constable—the prisoner looked up and saw us coming—he ran away—I and the other constable gave chase and caught him in about twelve yards—the deceased was still lying in the road—I handed the prisoner over to the other constable and went and lifted her up—the prisoner was brought up to where she was—I asked the deceased if she was hurt—she said, "He gave me two fearful blows"—she seemed to be dazed—I had only seen one blow—I asked the deceased if she would charge him and she said yes—he was taken to the station—I assisted the deceased to Arbour Square Police Station, where she was seen by the divisional surgeon—the prisoner was charged and said in reply, "She spoke to me, and I did not want to have anything to do with her"—I think they were both sober—the other constable fell down when chasing the prisoner, but he was then four or five yards from the deceased and she did not fall
down again after she was picked up—I did not leave go of her arm the whole time—the prisoner was not pushed on to her.
By the Court. They had passed each other before I saw them, and were going away from each other—they did not look as if they had been speaking to each other—they were on opposite sides of the path—there was no holloaing—neither I nor the other constable crossed the road and took hold of the prisoner before he struck the deceased—we did not strike him or shove him and then let him go—he did not then fall against the deceased and so knock her over—I asked the deceased if she would charge the prisoner after the blow—the deceased did not say, "We had a nasty fall" it is not true that as we were going to the station I said to the deceased," You will be in the black list soon."
DAVID UFFINGDEL . (121 J.) I was with Shipley at 12.30 on April 14th opposite the People's Palace—when I first saw the prisoner, he was just passing the deceased—I did not see either of them speak to each other—after the prisoner had passed the deceased about six yards he turned round and rushed at her and struck her a kind of swinging blow with his hand in the face—she fell in the road about 1 1/2 yards from the pavement—it was a violent blow—I and the other constable ran across the road—I slipped and fell—I was then five or six yards from the deceased—I. got up and continued the chase—Shipley caught, the prisoner and handed him to me—I took him to the deceased, and Shipley asked her if she would charge the prisoner—she said she had had two fearful blows—the constable asked her again and she said yes—I took the prisoner to the station—on the way he said, "She asked me to go home with her, what would you have done"—I made no reply—he was quite sober—I did not notice if the deceased was drunk or not—the prisoner did not slip, and was not pushed on to the deceased in any way—I only saw her fall once.
By the Jury. The pavement is about 6 in above the kerb—the deceased was near the kerb when she was walking—the pavement is three or four yards wide.
WILLIAM MITCHELL . I have been living at 79, Ernest Street, Stepney—I am in the Army and now under arrest for desertion—on the early morning of April 14th I was going along the Mile End Road opposite the People's Palace and on the same side as the prisoner—I first saw him coming towards me—I was going towards Whitechapel—the deceased was going the same way as myself, and between 20 and 30 yards from me—I saw the deceased and the prisoner come together—I saw the deceased go up to the prisoner and make a motion, as if she was calling him—he gave her a push—she made the same motion—he gave her another push—she seemed to be clinging on to him and he knocked her down—she had not followed him—she had only turned round and gone a couple of steps to call him—she fell in the gutter—I saw the two constables—they ran across the road, one ran in front and the other behind the prisoner—as one of them was coming across the road he caught his foot on the woman's head and fell over her—I was then about twenty yards away—I did not do anything except listen to what was said—I walked up to them—the prisoner was a couple of paces away then—he could hear what was said—the policeman
said to the woman, "Now, mother, are you going to prosecute him?"—she said, "I don't know, I will leave it to you, Sir"—he said, "You must not leave it to us, we are only here as witnesses"—she said, "I don't know what to do"—he said, "You had better prosecute, mother, you will have a nasty face to-morrow "and with a little persuasion she said she would prosecute the prisoner—I went off down White Horse Lane—I did not see the woman fall down again—she only fell once, that was when the prisoner hit her—I think she was intoxicated, because she walked along as if she was drunk.
WALTER EAST . (Police Inspector H.) I was on duty at Arbour Square, police station on Tuesday, April 14th—about 12.45 a.m. the prisoner and the deceased were brought in by the two constables—she had a large swelling about her left eye—she seemed to be rather dazed—in the prisoner's presence she said, "He," meaning the prisoner, "struck me with his fist and I want to charge him"—I entered the charge and read it to the prisoner—he said, "Yes, that is it"—the divisional surgeon saw the deceased.
By the Court. I thought she had been drinking, but it might have been due to her dazed condition—I did not smell anything.
HERBERT LARDER . I am medical superintendent at the Whitechapel Infirmary—I saw the deceased there about mid-day on April 15th—she was unconscious—there was a good deal of swelling about her face generally, and? especially on the left side of her forehead—there was a good deal of discoloration about her face and right down to her mouth—she was unable to give any information—she was not then rambling—she seemed irritable—she remained in that condition until" the 17th—she had been admitted on the 14th—on the 17th at mid-day she became conscious but she was not rational—on the 23rd she became much worse and died at 10.40 a.m. on the 24th—on April 24th I made a post mortem in conjunction with. Dr. Grant—there was a depressed fracture of the frontal bone, about three inches across; the fissured bone was contused—the fracture extended to the base of the brain backwards and downwards, and the bone was splintered, and lascerated the brain substance—there was also a thin blood clot over the base of the brain—there was a bruise on the left lower jaw, a slight bruise on each knee, and a bruise on the middle of the right leg—the cause of death was undoubtedly the fracture of the skull and lasceration of the brain substance—I have heard the evidence of the constables—the injuries I discovered are consistent with her having been struck and knocked down—there were slight traces of alcoholic indulgence, in the liver and kidneys, but not marked.
By the COURT. Her injuries could not have been caused by her being simply pushed and falling down where she was standing; great violence was necessary.
By the JURY. A kick would have caused the injuries but it would have had to be a severe one—a person tripping over her would not cause it.
CHARLES GRAHAM GRANT . I reside at 523, Commercial Road, and an divisional surgeon at Arbour Square Police Station—on April 14th I saw the deceased at 1.20 a.m., at the station—she had a large bruise on her
forehead—she was too dazed to answer questions coherently—she showed signs of drink, but she had not had sufficient to make me think she could not take care of herself—she wished to go home, and I sent her home—I saw her next day at the Infirmary—she was insensible, and I saw her three days afterwards when she was not insensible—I assisted Dr. Larder in the post mortem—I have heard the evidence he has given, and I agree with him, but I do not believe a kick could have caused the injuries, even if it had been intentional—I think the woman's weight must have been operative—I have often had constables who have been kicked on the skull, but have never seen an injury like this.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Coroner, said that the deceased came up to him and said, "It is a funny day, isn't it?" that she appeared to want him to go with her; that she asked him which way he was going; that he said to Hertford Street; that she said, "Can't you come home with me instead"; that he said "No" as he had a better home to go to; that she used abusive language; that the two constables came across the road and one got him by his collar and asked what he was doing; that he said "Nothing"; that the policeman shoved him so that he fell against the deceased and knocked her down; that the constable picked her up and asked her if she would charge him; that she said "Yes"; that he was sober, and that the deceased had been drinking.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth. He received a good character . Discharged on his own recognisances.
MR. THOMPSON. Prosecuted.
CLARA LITTLETON . I am the prisoner's wife—he is a shoemaker—on May 2nd we were residing at 69, York Street, Westminster—we had a room on the top floor—about 4.15 a.m. on that day I was in bed—I got up and told my husband the time—then I got into bed, and he said, "I think I will get out"—he got out of bed and looked out of the window, and said it was a fine morning—he then plunged at me with a knife—this knife (Produced) was on the table—this other one (Produced) he took out of the drawer—he done like that with the knife—he never said anything—then he put the bolster on me—he cut me on my neck—I think he only cut me once, but we were struggling and I can hardly tell—I tried to save myself—he only kept the bolster on me momentarily, because I struggled—I got the back of my hand cut in the struggle—I screamed and went downstairs—he remained behind—the landlord came out and took me to his room—the police were sent for, and I was afterwards taken to the hospital—the prisoner had been in a very good temper that day—we had had no quarrel—he had never done this kind of thing before, but he had told me he intended doing it—that was about two years ago—he had said he took something to bed with him to kill me, and then he was going to hang himself—I do not remember any particular row at that time—he only drinks moderately—he was a teetotaler for nineteen years—he is very strange in his manner at times, and I have been very nervous about
it, but I have put up with it—he had delusions, he thought everyone was following him, that I was working his ruin, and was his greatest enemy.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When we quarrelled it was owing to your delusions.
ALFRED WRIGHT . (185 A.) About 4.30 a.m. on May 2nd I was called to 69, York Street, by the landlord—in a back room I found the prosecutrix suffering from injuries to her face and throat—she was removed to the Westminster Hospital—I went to the top floor room occupied by the prisoner and the prosecutrix—the door was locked—the landlord burst it open in my presence—I saw the prisoner lying on the bed suffering from two wounds in his throat—I told him what his wife had told me—he said he had had a. lot of trouble lately—on the table close to the bed I found this knife with blood on it, and the point bent—I was present when he was charged at the station—he made No. reply.
JOSEPH CORBIN . I am the landlord of 68 and 69, York Street—the prisoner and his wife were my tenants—on May 2nd, about 4 a.m., my attention was called by screaming—I went into the passage and saw the prosecutrix—she was screaming and covered with blood—I took her into my room—I called a constable's attention to what was happening.
ERNEST ROCK CARLIN . I am house surgeon at Westminster Hospital—in the early morning of May 2nd the prosecutrix was brought in—she had several small wounds and one serious one on her throat—the serious one was on the left side—it was serious because it exposed some deep vessels in the neck—she had a small wound on her hand and several on the side of her neck—she was under my observation for a week—she is now quite well as regards the wounds—the prisoner was brought in about three-quarters of an hour afterwards—he had two deep wounds in his throat—they might be produced by this knife—they were consistent with the theory that they had been self-inflicted.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer at Brixton Prison—I have had the prisoner under my observation since May 11th—I consider that during that time he was insane, and I consider him insane now—he is depressed, confused, and in my opinion has insane delusions.
GUILTY., but insane at the time he committed the act . To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
MR. CHARLES MATHEWS, MR. MUIR., and MR. HEWITT. Prosecuted; MR. ROBSON., K.C., and MR. STEPHENSON. Defended.
JOHN HENRY HUNT . I am a clerk in the Divorce Registry Office at Somerset House—I produce some of the documents from the file of proceedings in the divorce case of 'Worsley against Worsley and Worsley—I produce the petition dated June 19th, 1902, of John Stapleton Worsley, of Fern Bank, Clifton Junction, a chief clerk in an insurance company—I also produce the Particulars which, at the end, show that they were filed and delivered on July 24th, 1902—I also produce the answer filed by the co-respondent delivered on August 6th, 1902 (Stating that he was not
guilty of adultery.)—no answer was filed by the respondent—in the course of the trial various exhibits were put in and retained by the Court—I produce them from the custody of the Court—Exhibit 4 is a report dated June 18th, and at the end of that are the words, "Witnesses, H. Cochrane, F. George, sen., H. George, jun."—the suit was heard before Mr. Justice Gorell Barnes on November 11th, 12th, 13th, 18th, and 19th, and on the 19th the common jury found that the co-respondent had committed adultery with the respondent—the jury did not find on what date the adultery was committed—the Judge awarded a decree nisi with costs against the co-respondent.
Cross-examined. I produce the correspondence handed to the learned Judge—I do not know if these are his marks—I was not at the trial.
STEWART CHAPPLE . I am the official shorthand writer at the Probate and Divorce Court—I took shorthand notes of all the evidence in the case of Worseley against Worseley and Worseley, heard in November last—I produce a transcript of the hearing on each day, and also the summing up of the learned Judge—it is correct—the prisoner was first examined on the second day, November 12th.—(The transcript of the prisoner's evidence was then put in and read.)—there were six witnesses called for the petition, the petitioner himself, the prisoner, Herbert Cochrane, and Mr. Pearson, Mr. Marsh and Mr. Parkinson.
Cross-examined. Mr. Pearson was called on November 18th—I only hear what a witness says and take that down—we make a point of underlining a word if a witness accentuates it—Mr. Parkinson was called at the request of the learned Judge.
THOMAS JAMES BUSHELL . I am an architect and surveyor of 28, John Dalton Street, Manchester—I also have an office in Pendlebury—I gave evidence before Mr. Justice Barnes in November—I have prepared and produce three plans of the locality of North Dean Cottage, Pendlebury, and Fern Bank, Clifton Junction—(The plans were then proved.)—on the plan I have shown a gate leading to the Occupation Road, also Rake Lane—there is no ditch opposite the gate—the whole of Rake Lane is what you might call level until the point where the iron church is marked—as far as I know there are no means of concealment for a person placing himself opposite that gate from a person at it.
Cross-examined. It is possible to walk or run along immediately under the hedge opposite the gate—the hedge is overgrown—it does not overhang in any way.
HERBERT COCHRANE . I am now living at 79, Meadow Street, Moss Side, Manchester—I am twenty years old—I first went into the prisoner's service about May 12th, 1902—before that I was in the Manchester Post Office for about 5 1/2 years—before that I was in a stock and share broker's office in Manchester—whilst in the post office I saw an advertisement of the prisoner's, and as a consequence I went and saw him—I was engaged by him at £2 a week when he was very busy; 30s. a week at ordinary times, and if there was not much business doing 24s.—I resigned my position in the post office in order to go to the prisoner—he said he employed twenty-five detectives; and that he had had eleven
years' detective experience—he introduced me to a lady named Mrs. George, and also to Herbert George his son, who was about 15 years of age, and was employed in the office work—it was not a very large office—on June 10th, 1902, Mr. John Worsley called—that was the first time I had seen him—I saw him because the prisoner was out—I took certain particulars from him which I jotted down in pencil on this piece of paper (Produced)—I afterwards saw the prisoner and made a communication to him with regard to Mr. John Worsley's visit—I do not think I showed him the particulars then—on June 11th he called again and saw the prisoner—I was present at part of the interview, and on the 12th or 13th I received some instructions from the prisoner in regard to some watching I was to do—on the 13th I went from Manchester by train to Clifton Junction, and then on to Pendlebury—Herbert George and a man named Juby were with me—we went to Fern Bank and saw Mrs. John Worsley leave the house—we followed her until she got to North Dean, which she entered by the back gate—I had never been to the district before—we remained watching the house from 9 p.m. till 1.30 a.m.—I did not then actually know which was the real front entrance—I did not know that there was another entrance—I now know that we were watching the back entrance—I went round to try and find the front entrance, but I was watching the gate of another house—I left Juby and the boy George at the back gate—when I tried to find the front entrance I could not find it—we did not return to Manchester that night, we stayed at Clifton Station—on June 14th Mr. John Worsley again came to the office—I believe the prisoner was there all day—in his presence I made a report to Mr. John Worsley—I do not think there was a written report—I made this short note of the events on June 13th (Produced)—I next went to keep observation on Tuesday, June 17th, I was with the prisoner, Juby, Herbert, and another son of the prisoner named Horace, who was about 12—we arrived at Clifton Junction about 6 p.m., and then went to Fern Bank—the two boys stood playing outside the gate—I stayed a little way up the road nearly opposite the house—the prisoner and Juby stayed further up the road in a field—the intention was that when Mrs. Worsley came out the boys might give me a signal, which they did in about two hours—I then saw Mrs. Worsley come out of Fern Bank with her sister—they went towards Rake Lane—I followed them—I passed the field where the prisoner and Juby were—I gave them a signal when they also started following Mrs. Worsley—they were behind me—the younger boy went back to Manchester as soon as Mrs. Worsley came out—Herbert came along with me—Mrs. Worsley went straight along Rake Lane, turned into a field path on the left to a place known as Engine Brow, through the fields and then into Bolton Road—I had never been over that ground before-in Bolton Road she called at several shops with her sister, with whom she remained until about 9 o'clock—they then separated—I followed Mrs. Worsley—she went into the back entrance of North Dean—I was about 200 yards from her then, my companions were only a few yards from me—the prisoner told me to go round to the front gate—I
went round Bolton Road and Station Road to the same gate that I had been at on the 13th—that was not really the front entrance to North Dean, and I made the same mistake as I had made before—I watched there for about twenty minutes, when the prisoner came up and said I had made a mistake, and I was watching the wrong gate—he took me round to the front gate of North Dean—it has a shrubbery on either side of it—I had never been in front of it before the prisoner took me there—he then remained with me about ten minutes, when he went through the gate and into the grounds, leaving me at the front gate—he said he was going to watch the back entrance—he returned in about fifteen minutes with Herbert—the prisoner told us that if Mrs. Worsley came out accompanied by Mr. Joseph Worsley I was to follow them, while Herbert was to wait and give a signal to the man at the back gate that they had come out—I did not know that there was a lake inside the front gate—I could not see it from the gate, it was dark, and there is also a shrubbery—as far as I can remember it was a clear night, although it was dusk when we were there—we remained at the gate for about an hour, when Mrs. Worsley came out of the front door with Mr. Joseph Worsley—we could hear something which led us to believe that somebody was coming towards the front gate—when they emerged from the front gate it was the first time I had seen the pair together that evening—I had never seen Mr. Joseph Worsley before—as they approached the front entrance I did not hear any kissing or see any hugging—I heard Mrs. Worsley laughing—they came into the road and went across the waste ground in front of the main entrance in the direction of Bolton Road—I left the gate with Herbert and followed them a little way—I kept on the path, it is an unpaved street—we went towards Station Road—I had left the prisoner at the front gate—he came back through the grounds and rejoined me before the couple came out of the house—he was there when they came out and heard whatever I heard—he could not have seen or heard anything more than I did—in Station Road the boy and I turned to the right towards Bolton Road—the prisoner over-took us in Station Road, a few yards from Bolton Road—we turned into Bolton Road together, and all three went along the right hand side—we thought we could see Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley on the right side of Bolton Road—I thought they were going to Manchester—we followed them for about 500 yards, but when we got near to them we found that they were two women—we were about 10 yards from them—the prisoner was with me then—he said, "Damn it all, Cochrane, you ought to have done better than this, the next best thing to do is to get back to Fern Bank and see them come in."—we then all three retraced our steps along Bolton Road in the direction of Engine Brow—at first we passed the opening to Engine Brow—we saw some people, the prisoner asked them which was Engine Brow—they said the next opening, and we began to make our descent to the valley—we passed through the second stile, and along the path to the third stile and into Rake Lane—throughout the whole of that walk we saw nothing of Mrs. John Worsley—it is not true that at any part of that walk either of us lay
down upon our stomachs, or that as we were lying we saw Mr. Joseph and Mrs. John Worsley together at the second stile, hugging, kissing, squeezing, or in a position which led us to believe they were then committing adultery—we did not see them at the stile for fifteen minutes or any other time; we went to the gate into Occupation Road, close to Rake Lane—when we got opposite the gate we saw Mr. Joseph Worsley standing at it; that was the first time we had seen him since he came out of the main entrance of North Dean—Mrs. John Worsley was not with him at the gate—he was alone, he appeared to be making water against the gate—Mrs. John Worsley was about 20 yards from the gate, in Rake Lane, walking slowly towards Fern Bank—it is not true that at the gateway we saw Mr. Joseph Worsley lift Mrs. John Worsley's dress, or that we saw them standing together on the right side of that gateway, or that his trousers were undone, or that his person was exposed, or that they were in the act of committing adultery—we passed on up the roadway in front of Mr. Joseph Worsley—we did not place ourselves under a hedge opposite the five-barred gate and watch there—it is not true that after having watched, the prisoner said, "Now let them see us," or that he and I then rushed across from our place of concealment to the recess where the gate is, or showed ourselves to Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. John Worsley—we went on down the road, Mrs. John Worsley being in front of us, and Mr. Joseph Worsley following—he overtook her—he did not pass us—we were in a lane on the right hand side of Rake Lane—we stopped there—Mr. Joseph and Mrs. John passed—we had before that passed them both, they passed the end of the lane together—after they had gone, we all three came out and followed them again—they stopped outside the gate of Fern Bank—the prisoner and I were just a few yards behind them—the prisoner asked Mr. Joseph what the time was—he said, "11 o'clock"—Mr. Joseph and Mrs. John stood talking for about ten minutes—they went in at the gate and up the garden path, entering at the front door of Fern Bank—I and my two companions were opposite Fern Bank—about two minutes after they had gone in Mr. John Worsley came out of the house—he said to the prisoner, "Have you found anything out"—the prisoner replied, "We saw them doing it against the gate"—Mr. John Worsley said, "Will you come into the house and accuse them of it"—the prisoner said, "Yes"—we all three went into the house with Mr. John Worsley—we went into the kitchen where we found Mrs. John Worsley, Mrs. Joseph Worsley, a lady whose name I now know to be Miss Ada Parkinson, and Mr. John Worsley's brother, Mr. Haydon Worsley—Mr. John Worsley said to the prisoner, "What have you got to say about my wife"—the prisoner said, "I saw one of these ladies misconducting herself with this gentleman here," pointing to Mr. Joseph Worsley who said, "Nonsense, Johnny"—speaking to Mr. John Worsley, Mrs. Worsley said, "Don't speak to these men"—Mr. Joseph Worsley asked the prisoner who he was—the prisoner gave him one of his cards with his name and business address and a description of what he was—it was like this one (Produced), "Henry's private Detective Agency, 4, St.—Ann's Square"—he also gave Mrs.
Worsley one—Mr. John Worsley then got very angry—I cannot say what he said to Mr. Joseph Worsley, but shortly after the prisoner, the boy, and myself, left the house—we walked the four or five miles back to Manchester—we went up Rake Lane and back through the fields into Bolton Road—we met the other man at the back entrance by North Dean—on our way home I asked the prisoner why he had made this accusation and told this tale at Fern Bank—I said if the case came up before the Court I would not be a witness in it—he said he had had more experience in Court work than I had, and I should find as I went on that I should have to exaggerate things a little as the other side would do the same—he said, "You had better sleep on it, and I will see you in the morning"—I had made a few notes of the movements of Mrs. John Worsley on that night—I made them on a piece of paper—I think it was taken from a pocket book—I used black lead, I believe—the notes were made while Mrs. Worsley was doing some shopping—I just put down the particular shops she went into, and also made notes up to the time she went into the back entrance of North Dean—the notes stopped there—I saw the prisoner on Wednesday, the 18th—I believe I destroyed my rough notes—before I did so I handed them to the prisoner—he said a report would have to be made out and told me to get my pocket book—I had one with me—he told me to take down what he dictated—this (Produced) is my writing—this report was written on the 18th and at the prisoner's dictation—as I first wrote it the time of a light appearing in the back bedroom at Mr. Joseph Worsley's house was 10.15, and the two people were said to have come down the front path at 10.34 and to have-remained at the front gate for three minutes—it ran originally, "They both came—out of gate and walked across waste ground arm in arm: they both crossed over Bolton Road and down Brow and over fields, they both stood against a gate for four minutes"—towards the end it runs, "We followed them slowly down to Mrs. Was house, where they stopped outside the gate; they stayed there talking for twelve minutes, they both entered gate and went up to front door, they both entered house at 11.17"—I handed that note to the prisoner—another report was prepared by him upon that day in my presence—I should say it was founded upon this report of the previous evening—he said he was going to send it to Mr. John Worsley—I do not remember if I was present when he made it—I believe I saw it before it was sent—I'am not sure if I saw this other report or not—I know the prisoner's writing—it is in his writing—on the 19th or 20th the prisoner told me that Mrs. John Worsley had made a confession that misconduct had taken place on the 17th June, and that it had taken place against the stile on the top of the hill in the field through which they had passed, and that we should have to put that in the report—I had this note book of mine in my possession then—the times were altered in it—the alterations are in my writing—several additions were also made to the original note—the prisoner suggested them and he was present when I made them—they can be easily distinguished from the original note, they are made with an indelible violet pencil—the 10.15 has been altered to 9.50, and 10.34 to 10.8—the waiting
near the front gate for three minutes has been altered to ten minutes—the note now reads, "They both stood against the stile for 15 minutes; then a gate for four minutes"—lower down I find, "We walked on a few yards and concealed ourselves until Uncle Joe and Mrs. W. passed arm in arm at 11.5"—the 11.5 has been interlined, "They stayed here talking for twelve minutes, they both entered gate, went up to front door, they both entered house at 11.24"—it was originally 11.17: it was altered to 11.24—this addition had been made at the end—"Two minutes later Mr. J. Worsley came out and asked us to go into house. Mr. George then accused Mrs. W.; she did not deny anything"—I also wrote out this document about two days after the prisoner said Mrs. Worsley had made a confession—he was present when I wrote it—he dictated it to me—I gave it to him—I believe that that was the last I saw of it (Exhibit 13)—it was then entirely in my writing—there is now some of the prisoner's writing on it—he has made alterations in the times—the report reads, "When they got to the first stile they both stopped, and we're there from 10.30 p.m. until 10.45 p.m.; they committed adultery at this stile"—the last six words have been interlined and are in the prisoner's writing—at the end of the report and at the prisoner's dictation I wrote, "Neither Uncle Joe or Mrs. Worsley denied the accusation"—that was the accusation made in the house—I know Herbert George's writing—Exhibit 16 contains a note in his writing, and 18 is also his as far as the document in the main is concerned—I find that alterations have been made in it in the prisoner's writing—on the 18th I asked the prisoner if the case was going to be defended—he said it would be, but only to get the damages reduced—I then told him again that I was not going to support him in his story, as it was false—I told him I had a good character when I left the post office, and did not wish to lose it—many times after that the subject was mentioned again, and he told me that if I would tell this story he would give me £50 if they won the case, and Mr. John Worsley would very likely give me another £50—I told him I did not want his money, and that I would sooner leave than tell a false story in Court—he said he knew more about legal matters than I did and told me to do what he told me—he said Mr. John Worsley was a wronged man, and that I should be doing good really if I supported his story—he told me I had to forget really what had happened that night, and to stick to the tale which he had made—the subject was revived between us more than once, and as the day of the trial approached I said I would rather leave him if he was going to tell that tale—about a week or a fortnight before the trial the prisoner said to me that he had better have some notes as well, as they might have to be produced in Court—he then took a spare note book out of his drawer, and also one of these note books (Produced); I do not know which it was, and he copied the times down—I believe he asked me for my note book to do so—this (Produced) is the note he made at that time and in that way—it is not true that it contains a note made by the prisoner on the night of June" 17th of the events of Mrs. Worsley's walk when she was alone and when she was with Mr. Joseph' Worsley—I did not consent to come up to London as a witness in the trial in November—within a short time of
the trial I was with the prisoner in his office—Herbert George was there—the prisoner was asking him and I questions which were likely to be asked by the Counsel in Court—we were really cross-examined by him as to the questions which would be asked in Court—it occupied about an hour and a half or two hours—I came to London for the trial with the prisoner—Herbert George did not come—when I was going to the Court on the first day I told the prisoner I was not going into the box to tell a false story—he said, "No one will believe you now if you tell any other story but this one; if we win the case I will give you £50 or else give you a little less and let you have a week or a fortnight in London"—I was not in Court when the prisoner gave his evidence—I followed him into the witness box—he was in Court when I gave my evidence—I had not brought with me the note book containing the note which I had made on June 18th—it was not called for at the trial—I had not any written note with me of what had occurred on June 17th—I gave my evidence—what I said then with regard to the incidents that happened in regard to these two people was false—what I described as having occurred at the middle stile was false and also what I described as having seen at the gate into the Occupation on Road—after the trial I returned to Manchester, and remained in the prisoner's service till the end of December—I then left and made a statement to Messrs. Cobbets, a firm of solicitors in Manchester.
Cross-examined. I was not discharged in December, 1902, by George—he did not accuse me of being lazy or untruthful, he accused me of being unpunctual—I left on my own accord—I do not remember going to Mr. Pearson, Mr. John Worsley's solicitor, and asking him whether he would use his influence with the prisoner to take me on again—I went to Mr. Pearson—I do not remember if I asked him to use his influence with the prisoner to keep me on—I will not say I did not—I do not remember asking anybody else that—I asked Mr. Pearson if it was possible for him to help me to get some money that was in arrears, and was owed me by the prisoner—I did not ask Mr. Pearson if he himself would get me a job—I will swear that I did not ask him whether he could suggest any job for me—he asked me what I could do, and whether I should try to get back under the Government again—I swear I did not ask him if he knew of any situation which would be suitable for me—I asked Mr. John Worsley that—I wrote to him and asked if he could suggest any employment which would be suitable for me—I went to Mr. Pearson to tell him that the Worsley case was wrong—I thought the prisoner owed me eight guineas—I never got it—the prisoner said it was not owing—it was on January 12th, 1903, that I wrote to Mr. John Worsley asking him if he could not get me some suitable employment—he had always been a good friend of mine—he was the petitioner in the suit—I intended to tell him the truth, but I did not do so, but left him under the impression that his wife had committed adultery—I asked him not to let George know anything about the other employment for me—I did not write to him and say that the story I told was false, because he would not have believed it after what had taken place in the Divorce Court—I never asked George for the £50 which he had promised me if I told these lies, because I did not want it
—he had me under an agreement not to divulge any secret out of the office, and if I did so I should have to forfeit £100—I did not try to borrow money from the prisoner after or before my discharge—he may have thought I was trying to borrow it, but I was only trying to get the eight guineas which was owing to me; I thought it was the only way to get it—he had left me without any money for several weeks—I asked him for it in that way—I said, "Can you let me have any money?"—I meant the money which was owing to me—I left him about December, 1902—the trial was in November—on September 26th I saw Mr. Pearson, who was taking the proofs—I attended at his office with the prisoner—I heard George telling these lies to him—Mr. Pearson then asked me if I corroborated him, and asked me to tell my story—I told him most of what George had told me to tell him, except the incident at the gate—I said that I did not see Mr. Joseph Worsley lift Mrs. Worsley's dress—I protested against telling these lies right up to the eve of the trial—I did not protest to Mr. Pearson, I was under George's influence, and I had to keep the agreement—I did not know what to do, whether to leave him or go on with the case—I did not prefer to tell a lie—I did it—I do not remember if Mr. Pearson took my proof on the first occasion that I went to him with the prisoner—I do not remember if I answered Mr. Pearson when he said, "You have heard what Mr. George said, do you corroborate this?"—I cannot remember saying "Yes, I do"—I may have done so—I went to Mr. Pearson after he had taken my proof—I believe he went through the prisoner's proof with me—he asked me questions, and I answered every-one of them in the same way that the prisoner had answered—I did not confirm all the questions—I never said at the trial that I had seen Uncle Joe lift Mrs. Worsley's clothes at the gate, or anything about adultery at the second stile—when they were at the gate George was about two yards Dearer them than I was—I told Mr. Pearson that the prisoner would see more than I should, because he was nearer to them at the gate—I remember Mr. Pearson saying, "Well, if you did not see it you had better say so"—he meant, if I had not seen it I had better say I had not seen it—Mr. Pearson was engaged for a moment, and the prisoner and I went out of the office—we went back, and going back the prisoner said, "Now, Mr. Pearson wants you to say what I said"—I told Mr. Pearson that personally I could not see more than that Mr. Joseph Worsley had made certain suspicious movements—that was a lie—I know that after the verdict had been given Mr. Joseph Worsley applied for a new trial—I did not hear at the trial that he had been charged with trying to corrupt and bribe the prisoner—he told me afterwards that the incident of bribing had come up—I knew that Mr. Joseph Worsley had been cross-examined at great length upon it—I knew that Mr. Joseph Worsley had offered the prisoner presents—the only incident I remember was when he offered the prisoner some salmon, and fruit or something—I knew at that time that he knew the prisoner was a wicked perjurer—it did not occur to me when I left the prisoner's service, and could not get my eight guineas, that I might get something out of Mr. Joseph Worsley—when I left the prisoner, about December 22nd, I
said something to him about going to see Uncle Joe—after that I did not go to Mr. Pearson's office with the prisoner—I went there without him after I left—I knew that if there was a new trial my evidence would be required—I did not think whether Mr. Pearson wished me to be dismissed or not, because I was one of his witnesses—I went to him to tell him the truth—I knew an appeal case was coming on, and I would not give the evidence again—I told Mr. Pearson there was something wrong about the Worsley case—I do not remember if the prisoner went to Mr. Pearson's with me on December 22nd—he did not tell Mr. Pearson that he could not keep me because of my unpunctuality and untruthfulness—he had a conversation with Mr. Pearson by himself in the office—ultimately I was called in—I do not remember if Mr. Pearson then said what the prisoner had told him, that he could not keep me, and would have to discharge me—he said it was a serious thing to the prisoner that I should be so continually unpunctual, and not at the office in time—he did not say it was a serious thing to make untrue statements, as the prisoner had complained of my doing—I won't swear that he did not—I do not remember saying that I was very sorry for what I had done—I won't swear I did not—I did not say I would try to do better in future if the prisoner gave me a chance—I won't swear he did not—I was told that if I repeated such conduct I might be dismissed and have to forfeit my salary—he asked me to sign an agreement—I did not object to that—I think I had been discharged then—I called after I left—I said to Mr. Pearson, "Have you heard that Mr. George has discharged me?"—he said, "Yes, I have"—I do not remember saying, "Do you think he would give me another chance?"—I won't swear I did not—I do not remember Mr. Pearson saying, "He might do so, I would certainly ask him to, was it not for one thing"—I did not say "What is that?"—he did not say, "George said that you said when you left him you would do him a thick one, and go over to Uncle Joe"—I do not remember him then saying, "I do not know what you mean by this, but whatever you mean, it prevents Mr. George from ever having you back, or me from ever suggesting any such thing"—I am almost certain no such words passed between us—when I left the prisoner I said I would go to Uncle Joe—I did not say I would do him a thick one—Mr. Pearson said that if there was anything wrong in my evidence I must not hesitate to set it right—I believe this was only a week or so after December 22nd—I did not say then that there was nothing wrong, and that I did not mean to suggest there was anything wrong at the trial—I tried to tell him what it was—I also told him that what I had said to the prisoner was said in a fit of temper and that I did not mean it—I had meant nothing by saying that I was going to Uncle Joe—I did not mean to tell Mr. Joseph Worsley that the story was false—I believe Mr. Pearson enquired what I intended to tell Uncle Joe—he asked if it had anything to do with the evidence—I did not say, "No, it has nothing to do with that, that was quite correct"—I said I would tell him what was wrong about the case—he said he preferred not to know what it was, but if anything was wrong I should go to another solicitor as he had the matter in the interests of Mr. John Worsley—I do not remember mentioning anything about
his getting me another situation—I said I was not in employment—I said I thought I could not get into the Customs Office because I could not pass the examination, except with a lot of study—I did not say I was ashamed to go back to the Post Office because I had left to better myself—I saw Mr. Pearson about March 17th, 1903—I believe I then said, "Mr. George is going to be prosecuted for perjury."—I knew thent that Mr. Joseph Worsley was instigating these proceedings; that was after I had seen Mr. Cobbett—I was not sure whether the perjury case was being brought on—I believe Mr. Pearson said, "I do not know, but I have heard that Mr. Joseph Worsley is doing all he can to injure Mr. George"—I said a well known gentleman had told me that he was going to be prosecuted—I did not say, "Some one is seeing me on behalf of Uncle Joe, and asking me to turn King's evidence—Mr. Pearson did not say, "How can you turn King's evidence if the story you told me is true"—I did not say to him, "That is just what I told the man who approached me"—I will swear I did not say that—Mr. Pearson said, "How could they prosecute the winning side for perjuy; it is more likely they would prosecute Uncle Joe"—he did not say, "Who is it who approached you?"—I told him something about a man I had seen who had been asking me who had approached me—he asked me if it was a man named Colton, who is now in the pay of Uncle Joe—I said it was not—I asked if there was really going to be a new trial in Uncle Joe's case—he said, "One has been applied for, but it is doubtful whether the application will be granted"—I did not say I was prepared to give the same evidence at the new trial—I went to see him, to tell him that a perjury case was coming on, and also to tell him that the evidence I had given at the previous' trial was false—he had told me on the previous occasion that he preferred not to hear me, and on second thoughts I thought it better not to tell him—I went to tell him as if there was a prosecution it might injure his reputation—I went to Mr. John Worsley the same day—I think there were disputes with the prisoner before the trial—I do not know that Mr. Pearson did not want me to be discharged because I might be wanted on the second trial—Mr. John Worsley came to see me in January, 1903—I did not say to him, "I am in a proper mess; Mr. George has discharged me"—I was not in a proper mess at all at the time—he did not say to me, "Well, if you want a job, I daresay Uncle Joe will give you one"—I did not say to him, "I shall be no use to him; I told the truth at the trial, and you cannot get behind that"—I believe he asked if there was anything wrong with the evidence that was given—I hesitated a while and then said, "No"—I did so because I thought as Mr. Pearson preferred I should tell another solicitor as he would not believe me Mr. John Worsley would not believe me either—I thought it was my duty as I had committed perjury to tell them the truth, but I did not do so as Mr. Pearson said he preferred not to hear my statement—I had not seen any detective or agent from Mr. Joseph Worsley in January, 1903—when I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley at that time I think I said, "Since I wrote to you I think I stand a good chance of getting a job as a private detective on the L. and N.W. Railway"—I did not ask.
him for a testimonial—he said he could give me one—I could have done without a testimonial from him—I was not keeping this story from him because I thought I should not get a testimonial—I did not say to him, "I am afraid it is no use; Mr. Pearson and yourself have always treated me as a gentleman, but George has always treated me shabbily, and if I have a chance to do him a thick one I will do so"—I said Mr. Pearson and Mr. John Worsley were gentlemen, but I did not say anything about a thick one—I was not promised £5 when the case was over by Mr. John Worsley—I did not at this interview with him ask for £5 and say it would come in handy—I did not tell him that the prisoner had told me that he would give me £50, and Mr. John Worsley another £50 if I gave the false evidence—I did not ask Mr. John Worsley for any money, it was not my place to do so—he had not promised me £50—there was no reason why I should not tell him what the prisoner had said—I understood that Mr. John Worsley would always see me right, but he never mentioned any sum—I did not remind him of it because I did not want it—I did not want to take it as a bribe—he said he would give it as a present, but I considered it in the nature of a bribe—I told the jury in the Divorce Court that I was expecting a present—since I left the prisoner I have been living with my parents; I have not been in any employment since—I have been partly living at my parents' expense—I had some money which I had before I went to George; that is all I have to live on—before I went to him I had a few pounds in the bank—at the Post Office I had been earning 18s. a week—I called on Mr. John Worsley in March; I did not ask him for £5 then, I called to ask him about the Appeal case—he said the six months would soon be up—that was the six months between the decree nisi and making it absolute—I believe he asked me what I was doing—I said I was doing nothing—I did not say, "Will you give me that £5 you promised me"—he did not say, "Not until it is over"—I asked him if the Appeal Case was coming on—he said he had heard it would be in about six weeks time, only he thought there would be no new trial, and it was only a rumour, and with that I left him—I do not know why I went to see him—my first intention was to tell him the true story, but I did not do so because I thought I would see Mr. Pearson first—I went to see Mr. Pearson, but I did not tell him; because he showed it to me in another light—he said if I was to tell another story now I should be considered a kind of Judas—when I told Mr. Pearson about the new story, and he said he would prefer not to hear it, he said, "I believe you are not telling the truth; Mr. George has seen me, and I would rather believe George's story than yours; but at the same-time even if you did tell another story now you would be considered a kind of Judas, but at the same time don't let that interfere with you going to another solicitor"—I did not tell Mr. Pearson the new story, but that there was something wrong about the case—I never used the expression King's evidence—I went to him twice with the intention of telling him, and then when he talked to me a little while I thought on second thoughts it would be best not to tell him, but to go to another solicitor as he suggested—I did not go to another solicitor at that time;
the first time I saw another solicitor was, I believe, in March, when I went to Messrs. Cobbett, Wheeler and Co., of Brown Street—I do not know if they are the solicitors acting for Mr. Joseph Worsley in this case—in the Divorce Court I thought it was a gentleman named Hewett—I did not go to Messrs. Cobbett straight—I saw the ex-superintendent of police at Manchester, Mr. Camanada—I do not know if he calls himself a private detective or a criminal investigator—I do not know that he was acting for Mr. Joseph Worsley—I applied to him for a situation—I did not at first go to unburden my conscience—he took me to Cobbett's—I produced no notes or reports at the Divorce Court—this book was produced at the trial—the notes in that book were made as Mrs. Worsley went into each shop—the prisoner did not make notes then, I believe Herbert George did—the prisoner had a watch, and he took the times—neither I nor Herbert had a watch—there were plenty of clocks about when Herbert was making his notes—it was always a regular thing in any case we went on to make notes—I dare say the prisoner would have made notes if he had anything to make them on—I was not sure if young George was making notes, I was not watching him—Herbert did not get the times from his father's note—I saw do note made at the time Mrs. Worsley entered the lodge gates at Fern Bank when a light appeared in the bedroom—the prisoner told me of it at the time—Joseph Worsley went in at 9.20—I cannot remember now how long it was after he went in, that the light appeared in the bedroom—I did not make a note then because it was too dark—the note says the light appeared in the bedroom at 9.50—I think it was after 10 o'clock that the light appeared—I do not know if the note is wrong—I cannot swear to the times now—the note book says, "Came out at 10.8, stopped at first 'S' at 10.30, left 10.45"—I swear that those times are false—I had no watch with me; the prisoner had the watch—I say they did not stop at the gate at all, or we did not see them at any rate—the note says, "Stopped at stile at 10.53, left at 11.4, arrived Fern Bank at 11.17, entered 11.24"—I say that note was copied from another note book just before the trial—the other note book I believe was mine—I saw the prisoner copy it in the office—I had made my note on June 18—that was an honest note before the alteration—I altered my note as soon as the prisoner told me of the confession—I do not know why no word of adultery at the stile or at the gate was put into this note—at the end of the walk on the 17th there was a pause of ten minutes before Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley went into the house—the prisoner and I were then on the opposite side of the road—the prisoner did not then pull out that little note book and make notes of what had happened on the walk—he was leaving the notes to me to make—I destroyed them after I had handed them to the prisoner next morning, and after he had finished with them—I may have suggested at the police court that the prisoner had kept those notes and not returned them to me—I quite remember destroying them now—the prisoner had old clothes on on the night of the walk—next morning he did not say he had left the notes in his old suit—he does not come to the office
in the old suit—he asked to see my note, and this document was written out—I had entered no times in my note after Mrs. Worsley had gone in to North Dean—I know how difficult it is to accurately put down times when you are engaged on some absorbing pursuit of watching somebody or doing anything else—this note was made next day from memory—it was dictated to me by the prisoner—nothing was said about standing against the stile for fifteen minutes—I say that that is a falsehood—it was put in either the same day or the next—it was put in because the prisoner told me that Mrs. Worsley had confessed—I am certain that it was put in to deceive the jury in the Divorce Court—I do not know why the document which contained this wicked lie about being at the stile for fifteen minutes was left at home, while the one which did not contain it was taken up to the Divorce Court—I cannot explain why neither of the documents used in the Divorce Court contained a reference to the stile—I knew that Herbert George was being brought up to the detective business—the prisoner did not say after the 18th that I and his son were to make practice reports—there was always a draft report besides the note book report—I believe there were two reports made by Herbert George—I did not make two on the 18th—after the confession the prisoner said he hesitated whether to put in about the stile or not—the times in this note were not altered because the prisoner found, when he got his own note book out of his pocket, that they did not correspond—I do not know why a reference to the adultery was not put into the report used at the trial, instead of the one which was not used—the prisoner knew the name Engine Brow—I do not know how; I think Mr. John Worsley had mentioned it to him—at the Divorce Court one of the witnesses said that she had seen two men and a boy on the road at a certain time at night, and that one of the men came up to her and asked which was Engine Brow—when we were following Mrs. John Worsley and Mr. Joseph Worsley somebody may have been behind us—we had no evidence that they had committed adultery at the stile—I told the jury before, that I had seen it at the gate, and I told Mr. Pearson so—I did" not say that Mr. Joseph Worsley had lifted Mrs. Worsley's clothes—when I left the prisoner and told him I would go to Uncle Joe, he said, "You can go to the devil."
Re-examined. While I was with the prisoner I sometimes went to Mr. Pearson every week, and he came to the prisoner's office pretty often—I understood him to be the prisoner's private solicitor—the prisoner had other cases while I was with him—Mr. Pearson was connected with them—there were two divorce cases besides the Worsley case, and there were some cases in which Mr. Pearson was acting privately on behalf of the prisoner—I believe I went to Mr. Pearson's office twice in relation to my proof in the Worsley case—the prisoner went with me each time—Mr. Pearson read the prisoner's proof to me about a week or a fortnight before I came to London—he asked me if I had seen Mr. Joseph Worsley lift Mrs. Worsley's dress—I said, "No"—the prisoner and I went out of the office, and he said to me, "Mr. Pearson really wants you to say (hat you did see Mr. Worsley lift Mrs. Worsley's dress, but he does not like to say so"—I went back to the office
again and Mr. Pearson asked me if I had seen it, and I said "No"—the money owing to me when I left the prisoner was for work done—the prisoner settled what I was to have as wages, and whether he was busy or not—there was no dispute about the amount, but the pay had got into arrears—after I left I went to Mr. Pearson to see if he thought I could get any of the wages that were owing to me—on December 22nd I saw Mr. Pearson and said that I did not know whether the prisoner had told him that the Worsley case was wrong, but that I knew it to be so—he seemed very much surprised at first—he said, "I consider that your evidence was correct, and that George's evidence was correct, I know nothing more; at the same time if you care to go to another solicitor and tell him, you can, but I prefer you not to tell me anything about it, as I have to look after Mr. John Worsley's interests"—I think the appeal for a new trial had then been entered—it was on March 17th, 1903, that I saw Mr. Camanada, and he took me to Messrs. Cobbett's—the report of June 18th, 1902, was made for Mr. John Worsley—I do not know if it was sent to him—the alterations and additions in Exhibits 13 and 18 are in the prisoner's writing—the suggested practice report is almost identical with the report sent to Mr. John Worsley.
By the Jury. There may have been a dew on June 17th, but no rain.
By the Court. On June 17th I went home with the prisoner—he did not leave me at any time—he could not have gone Back and struck a match and looked to see if there was any water on the ground at the gate—he did not do so at any time.
EMMA HARRIS . I am the wife of Richard Harris, of 675, Bolton Road, Pendelbury, that is two doors from Engine Brew on the main road—Mr. Joseph Worsley is our landlord—he sometimes collects the rents, not always—I gave evidence in the Divorce Court in the suit between. Mr. John Worsley, Mrs. John Worsley, and Mr. Joseph Worsley—I remember seeing Mr. Joseph Worsley on Friday, June 17th, about 10.30 p.m.—I was standing on my door step-Mrs. Worsley was with him—I did not know her by sight—I know her now—they were going down Engine Brew—he wished me good night—it was a light night—I saw two young fellows come up from the opening below Engine Brew—that is towards Bolton—one of them stopped at my door—one went across the road and fetched a boy back with him—after coming back they asked if that was Engine Brew—I said, "Yes"—one of them asked me if I had seen a man and woman go down—I said, "Yes"—he asked me how long—I told him "Ten minutes"—they went down the Brew as sharp as they could go, and I saw nothing of them afterwards.
Cross-examined. The front door faces the Bolton Road—I did not see them come out of the road into the Bolton Road—it is an opening nine or ten shops from my house—nobody had asked me the way before—I was not taking particular notice of them—Mr. Worsley asked me to give evidence at the Divorce Court—I do not remember when; it was a few days before the trial—until then I did not remember if it was June 17th that somebody had asked me the way to Engine Brew.
By the COURT. It was about two weeks before the trial that I was asked to
give evidence—Mr. Worsley asked me if I had seen anybody, and I told him that they had wished me good night.
PRISCILLA JACKSON . My husband died on October 16th, 1902—in June, 1902, we were living at the Railway Cottage, 86, Rake Lane, Clifton Junction—he was a platelayer—I know the neighbourhood very well, I have lived there nine years—I did not know Mr. Joseph Worsley then except by sight—I knew Mr. and Mrs. John Worsley very well—they lived about five minutes' walk from me—part of the preparation for the Coronation festivities was a bonfire, and on June 17th it was being built, and I and my husband took a walk to see it—we went up Rake Lane into Clifton—there is a stile there which leads out of the field path from Engine Brew—after we had been to Clifton we came down the Bolton Road and turned down Engine Brew—we went to the bottom, where we saw two men and a boy—we passed through the first stile, where there is a brook—the two men and the boy were two or three yards in front—we walked up the Brew to the second stile at the top: then you go on again and you come to another stile; then you turn to the right to go to Clifton Junction—I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. John Worsley in front of us in Rake Lane—they went up to the third stile—I had seen them in front of us all the time—they were in front of the two men and the boy—sometimes the boy was with the men and sometimes he was behind—the first time I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. John Worsley was when they were going through the stile into Rake Lane—we could see them a long way off, but could not tell who they were—we were then going across the field—when we first saw them we were going through the second stile—the men and boy were then a couple of yards in front of us—I did not see either of the men or the boy lying down on their stomachs at any time—we saw Mr. Joseph Worsley come into the white gate at the Occupation Road—Mrs. John Worsley had passed the stile a good way down the road—the two men and the boy went on, but did not crouch under a hedge or stand still—I and my husband followed—I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley leave the gateway—Mrs. John was waiting for him about half-way down the road—the two men and the boy went on—they did not crouch under a hedge or stand still—I and my husband followed—I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley leave the gateway—Mrs. John was waiting for him about half-way down the road—the two men and the boy went on in front of Mrs. John—when Mr. Joseph had left the gate we were two or three yards from him—there is no ditch in the roadway opposite the gate, it is a paved road—Mr. Joseph met Mrs. John, and they went right down home—he overtook her—she was walking on at the time—we did not pass them until they got to Fern Bank.
Cross-examined. My husband was ill at this time, and on this day we had had a very long and round-about walk—we were walking very slowly—the bonfire was at Clifton, and we walked over the railway bridge and away from Rake Lane to get there—Clifton is nearly an hour's walk from our house, if you walk slowly—it is a good mile—we did not come back the same way, we walked round till we got to Bolton Road—we stopped in a. public-house in Bolton Road—it is right opposite Engine Brew—that is the only one we stopped at—we walked along Engine Brew,
still slowly—my husband was supporting himself with one stick—we walked slowly up and down Engine Brew, and slowly up to the stile—when we were going up to the stile we saw the two men—from that part we walked slowly behind them the whole way—they were walking slowly—they were not walking as fast as they could, if they had been I and my husband could not have kept up with them—in my deposition I said, "My husband on the night in question recognised the two men in front of him as the two men we had seen in Rake Lane"—we had seen them before they got to any stile—the first stile is at the bottom of Engine Brew—we saw them before that—I said in my deposition, "I saw two men go up the hill and pass through the stile at the top"—that is the second stile—when we got through we saw what turned out to be Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. John—the two men were still between them and us—I could see that there was nothing to prevent the two men seeing them—all three couples were walking slowly—we were walking slowly because we wanted to see what they were doing—not many travellers come down that road, it is a lonely country road—I saw the man and the woman in front of the men before the second stile, and then I saw them go through the first stile, and then the two men went through it—then the man and the woman went into Rake Lane and turned to the right—I was about a couple of rods from the two men when they got over the third stile—the man and woman were not very far in front of the two men then—the procession of three couples went along Rake Lane as far as the gateway—we were walking slowly—I saw the man and the woman all the way; the two men were behind—if one of the men—said that they were in front until. Mr. Joseph Worsley turned into the gate that must be a lie—it must also be a lie if anybody said that the two men we were behind were walking as fast as they could go—Fern Bank is Mr. John Worsley's house—Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley walked straight in there—if anybody says that they stood about ten minutes at the gate that is another lie—next day I saw some of Mrs. Worsley's furniture being taken from her house—I was first spoken to about giving evidence just before Christmas—I was not called at the last trial—I know Mr. Joseph Worsley just from looks—I heard about the trial before it took place, and of its taking place—I remember Mr. John Worsley coming home after the trial—there was a good deal of talk about that—a plate layer's wife spoke to me about the trial at Christmas—she told me that she had told Mr. Joseph Worsley to come to me—she had hoard it was done in the road behind us—she had read it in the papers—that was in December—the trial took place in November, and the event took place in June—I had not thought much about it between those times—I wondered why the two young men were walking so slowly, and what was their business, because they were dressed more like scamps than gentlemen—I told Mr. Joseph Worsley about our going up behind the two people.
Re-examined. I remember seeing some furniture being removed from Mr. John Worsley's house—I do not remember when that was—I also remember Mrs. John Worsley leaving her husband—I did not then know why she left—I do not know how long that was after the walk, it was
not long afterwards—I did not hear of the trial as it was proceeding—a neighbour of mine read a report of it to me afterwards—during the walk the boy sometimes kept with the men, sometimes he was in front of them, and sometimes behind—the two men were together all the time—when we got to the stile at the top of the hill we were two or three yards behind them—I also saw Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley at the stile before we got to the top—when we got through the third stile we caught up Mr. Joseph Worsley—they did not stop the whole of the time that we had them in view, until he stopped at the gate leading to the Occupation Road—Mrs. Worsley then walked on—we knew it was Mr. Joseph Worsley before we got to the gateway—I suppose he went into the gate to relieve himself—when we got to Fern Bank they went to the large gate—the two men and the boy were opposite the small gate on the other side of the road, smoking cigarettes.
JOSEPH WORSLEY . I am a cotton waste merchant and live at 14, Bright Street, Birmingham, and have businesses in Manchester and Liverpool—I have been married for twenty-six years—I have seven children, the oldest 25 and the youngest 12—Mr. and Mrs. John Worsley have no family—in August, 1901, I was living at North Dean Cottage, Pendlebury, with my wife and family—in that month I moved to Blackpool—my wife had gone at the beginning of the season—I had the lease of North Dean up to March, 1903, and twice a week I went and stayed there, where I reserved for my own use a sitting-room and bedroom—the remainder of the house I let to a Mr. and Mrs. Walworth—when I went to North Dean Mrs. Walworth looked after me and did my rooms—John Worsley is my nephew, and about August, 1901, he and his wife, Isabella, came to Fern Bank, Clifton Junction—from March, 1902, till June, 1903, I visited their house twice—they were married in 1893—in conjunction with my brother, the late James Worsley, a veterinary surgeon, I was trustee to a portion of the post nuptial settlement—my nephew, John Worsley, was one of the beneficiaries—my position of trustee from time to time brought me into business connection with my nephew John—I was quite friendly with him—he was a clerk to an insurance agent in Manchester—I was quite friendly with his wife—I came to Fern Bank each week because I had property there, and in June, 1902, I had no agent there, so had to collect the rents myself—my wife and myself had been appealed to by John and his wife with regard to some differences—in the beginning of June, 1903, I received a letter from Mrs. John Worsley with reference to the presence of her brother-in-law, Haydon Worsley who lodged with them—there was friction between him and Mrs. Worsley, that was one of the causes—it was partly owing to his conduct, and in the beginning of June I was told Mrs. John Worsley had come to see me at North Dean about the matter, and about Friday, June 6th, she asked if she might come and see me about 9 p.m.—I am not sure if that was the date, but it was in the beginning of June—Haydon had threatened to knock Mrs. John down—she wrote this letter to me, dated June 2nd—she and Haydon could not get on, I believe—she came to see me on three occasions, when family matters were discussed between
us—the last visit was on June 17th—on that night I saw her home—there was no act of misconduct between us at North Dean before we left—it is not true that as we approached the front gate of North Dean I was kissing her or doing anything that was at all improper—I think we stopped just before we came outside the gate—I had a horse in the field, and I called her attention to it—she laughed, and said I ought now to get a carriage—we went out of the front gate together, and across the waste ground into Bolton Road, then on to Engine Brew—I have a tenant named Mrs. Harris who has a cottage facing Bolton Road—I saw her on that night at her door—I bid her good night—Mrs. John was with me—we then went through the opening to Engine Brew and into the fields, and to the pathway which leads down to the valley and to the first stile—to the next stile there is a steep ascent—as we got to the top of the hill I felt blown; I had just got up from my evening meal—it was a warm night—as I got to the stile on the top of the hill I unbuttoned my waistcoat and buttoned it to my coat—I got on the rail facing Engine Brew—Mrs. John sat by my side—we stayed just a minute or two—I had noticed a man and a woman at the bottom of the hill—I could not see them when we were at the stile—we got up after a minute or two and resumed our walk—she was on my arm—we walked past the first stile leading to Rake Lane—it is not true that I committed adultery with Mrs. John at the second stile—it is not true that we were standing together, cuddling and squeezing, and kissing, in such a position as that the act of connection might reasonably be believed to have taken place there—I know the gate into the Occupation Road—as we approached it I asked her to go down the road as I wanted to call there—she went on, I turned into the gateway to make water, which was what I wanted to do—I did so—I came out of the gateway into the road—I saw two men and a boy hurrying past—I had then finished fastening my clothes—they went on down the road and met Mrs. John coming back towards me—she passed them, rejoined me, took my arm, and we walked down the road towards Fern Bank—the men were in front of us—they got to Fern Bank just before we did—I did not pay much attention to them—I thought it was singular that they did not make any noise on the road—I thought that they had something on their feet—I looked at them and noticed they were dressed rather peculiarly, and had mufflers round their necks—it is not true that at the gate I committed an act of adultery with Mrs. John, she was never at the gateway—I did not lift her dress—it is not true that the prisoner or anybody else rushed up to me and found me in the recess by the gate with Mrs. John, or that as I was going away from the gate the prisoner and another man placed themselves ostentatiously in front of me in order that I should see them—as we got about twenty yards from. Fern Bank the two men and the boy passed close to me and asked me the time—without looking at my watch, I said, "It is about 11 o'clock"—then one of them asked what time the last train train was—I said, "A few minutes past 11"—they then went and stood opposite Fern Bank, and immediately struck lights and lit cigarettes—Mrs. John and I paused a minute or two at the front gate looking at
them, because I thought it was singular that they should ask about the train and not go for it—we then went through the gate and up to the house—we rang the bell, Miss Parkinson came to the door, we went into the kitchen, where we found John and Haydon—I told them of the incident of the men asking about the train, and that they were then standing at the gateway smoking cigarettes, and that I could not understand it—John said, "Oh," and then rushed out—he was in his shirt sleeves—he was gone just a few minutes—while he was out Miss Parkinson came in with Mrs. John, who had taken her hat and cloak off—John then returned with the prisoner, his man, and the boy—John asked the prisoner something about what he had seen in reference to his wife—the prisoner said, "I charge you with impropriety with this gentleman," pointing to me—I said, "Nonsense, when and where, and which of the ladies?"—he then handed me a card, and said, "If you want any more questions answered you can call there and get them"—he handed John a card at the same time—the prisoner did not point out which of the ladies, he pointed to them, and said, "I charge you with impropriety with this gentleman"—they then left the house—that was the last I saw of him that night—I stayed on a little time—John said he would make me pay for it and touch my pocket—he said, "I will make you pay for, it; I will warm you up"—I said I did not fear any charge of that kind, and I was quite ready to meet it—a petition was served upon me, I do not remember the date—before that I had written a letter to John—it is dated June 20th—I shall be 54 years old next July.
Cross-examined. My letter of June 20th was before the last jury, I believe, with a great many other letters—this prosecution is mine—I was charged in the former trial with attempting to bribe the prisoner—I denied it—I never attempted to do so—I think he said that I had offered him £200—when the men came into John Worsley's house I do not think they charged us with adultery, they used the word impropriety—I knew it was false, I knew the prisoner had said that which was untrue—the prisoner told me he had not seen me commit adultery, and he did not charge it in the report—he said he had made a report to John—he said I should be convicted because the woman had been in my house a considerable time alone with me—it is quite untrue that when I went to see the prisoner I said, "Did you actually see me commit adultery?" and that he answered. "There is no doubt about it"—I do not know if he said that at the trial—I went to see him in order to find out which of the two ladies he said I had committed impropriety-with—he told me it was with Mrs. John—I did not go away immediately afterwards—he told me something else—I saw him again, I think, in less than a week—I cannot tell you exactly why I went the second time—I think that the third time I saw him was on the Exchange Station at Liverpool—I think I then gave him some salmon—I knew what he charged me with was untrue, and a wicked falsehood—I gave him the salmon, because he was going to do me a service—he got me an appointment with Mrs. John—I had written two or three notes but had had no answer—I do not remember the dates that I wrote to her—I wrote to her at her married sister's address—I believe that she afterwards lived
with her father—I never went to see her there—I know her father—I did not go because I had received a post card telling me not to write, and if I was not to write I took it I was not to go—I never went to her father to tell him that his daughter and I were innocent, because I was told that he was on the other side, but he told some friends in the other Court that he did not believe we were guilty—I think Mrs. John told me on June 30th that her father was on the other side—I telegraphed to the prisoner on June 29th, "Don't go Claremont, appointment made, meet you to-morrow 10.30. Worsley"—Claremont referred to a letter that I had received from Mrs. John, who was evidently living there—she had made an appointment with me for the 30th, and I telegraphed to the detective not to trouble to go to Claremont—I knew Mrs. John had been turned out of her husband's house—I knew she had gone to Manchester—I was always trying to see Mrs. John—I succeeded in doing so on June 30th—I met her at a fruit stall by appointment—we walked to a museum—at first she was with her sister—she left us—I think she had to go to her situation—we then went to a cafe—I had not got then in my own handwriting a retractation of her confession—she did not sign it—I asked her if it was true that she had made this wicked confession, and she said she was sorry to say it was—I asked her why she did it; she said she did it for £100, and that the trouble would be all over in a fortnight.
Re-examined. I saw Mr. John on June 13th—I made a statement to him in regard to his wife—I told him what his wife came to me at my home for, and what she was complaining of, and had a long discussion on it—the salmon which I gave to the-prisoner was only a piece; I had bought two or three pieces, and I gave him one to take home—Mrs. John made a retractation on the same day that she told me that she had been offered £100 to make the confession—this (Produced) is the retractation—she wrote it and signed it—I did not meet her on June 14th in Manchester and go by train with her to Withington and have a walk with her, and remain with her until 10—my wife proved that I was not there.
CHARLES ARROW . (Detective Inspector.) On April 13th I received a warrant from Bow Street Police Court to arrest the prisoner for perjury—I went to Manchester and on April 3rd I arrested him—I said, "I am an inspector of the Metropolitan Police; I hold a warrant for your arrest for perjury"—he said, "On whose charge?"—I said, "I will read it"—I read the warrant—he said, "Am I to go to London; shall I get bail?"—I made no reply—I took him to the City Police office at Manchester—he said, "Can I see Mr. John Worsley, he will do anything for me, he will find me bail or anything"—I took him to London the same night—he was charged at Bow Street with this offence—he made no reply—I took possession of some documents at his office at 52, Cross Street, Manchester—I took the exhibit 12 from a drawer in an American roll top desk—it is Cochrane's note book—I found Cochrane's report in a tin japanned deed case which was locked—I found the key in the safe—the report was in a bundle parked "Worsley"—the prisoner's note book was in the same bundle—Herbert George's note book was in the drawer of the American desk, and his report in the bundle in the deed case.
Cross-examined. I found some other documents besides these—I found exhibit 20, which is a number of slips of paper with pencil upon them—part of it reads, "Uncle Joe stayed with me at Liverpool for two hours trying to persuade me to be bribed"—another part of it is a rather long statement in pencil beginning, "Mrs. Worsley was repeatedly calling on me."—that is the prisoner's writing—(The document was then read.)
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the evidence he gave in the Divorce Court was true; that he had seen Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley committing adultery as he had then said; that he had made notes at the times, which were correct, and that he had not persuaded Cochrane to give false evidence.
Evidence for the defence.
HERBERT GEORGE . I am prisoner's son, and am 15 years old—I have been working for my father for some time—he is training me to be a private detective—on June 17th I went with him, Cochrane, and my brother to Clifton Junction—when Mrs. John Worsley left Fern Bank I and my brother were playing outside—I gave a signal when she started, and then sent my brother home—she then went into various shops—I saw her go into the back gate of North Dean—my father went round to the front gate with Cochrane—Juby and I were left at the back gate—I saw Mr. Joseph Worsley go in—my father came back to me with Cochrane and took me round to the front gate—I heard Mr. Joseph Worsley and Mrs. Worsley coming up the pathway to the gate—I heard them shuffling, talking, and kissing—I do not remember how far off I was—I then saw them come out—when they were kissing they made a noise like hissing—I make the same noise when I kiss my sister—I do not know how far off anybody could hear me kissing my sister—sometimes I make a good noise, sometimes I don't—from the noise I make when I kiss my sister I thought this noise that I heard was kissing—I do not know that it was—when they came out they went across the waste ground—me and Cochrane followed them—Cochrane did not go down a side street to Bolton Road—my father caught us up just as Mr. Worsley and Mrs. Worsley got to the end of the waste ground—we went across Bolton Road and followed them on to Engine Brew—we did not go one way and miss them, and then walk the other way, we followed them down all the way—they went up the other side of the hill—we passed through the stile at the bottom; when they got to the middle stile they stopped—we were at the top of the hill—they crouched down—we could see them playing about—it looked like pushing each other about—I cannot remember how long they were at the middle stile—we crouched and watched them—they were there for a long time—it is not true that they went through the stile without stopping—I do not know how far we were from them—we could not see them very clearly—they kept running backwards and forwards—they then went on—I was sometimes walking with my father and Cochrane and sometimes not—Mr. and Mrs. Worsley went through the third stile—they turned to the right down the road and passed some houses into a gateway on the left—we got under a hedge on the opposite side—I saw Mr. Worsley and Mrs. Worsley standing in front of each other—we watched them until we went
away—while they were standing at the gate my father said to me and Cochrane, "Let us make a rush," and we all three walked sharply across the road—Mrs. Worsley walked up to the other end of the gate—my father said to me and Cochrane, "Let them see us"—Mrs. Worsley started walking up the road—Mr. Joseph turned towards the gate pretending to make water, he had his shirt out,' and his trousers undone—we all three walked up the road—when we got to Mrs. Worsley she turned back and started to walk back to uncle Joe—we walked up the road and turned to the right down a small lane where we hid until Mr. and Mrs. Worsley went by, arm in arm—we then followed them down the road until they got a few yards from the Fern Bank gate, when we walked sharp and caught them up—my father asked Mr. Joseph the time—he replied, "Just gone eleven"—they went to Fern Bank gate and stood outside talking—we sat on the railings—they went into Fern Bank—I had no watch with me—my father had one—he made notes in his book—I saw him doing so—he gave me and Cochrane a cigarette—we all made lights whilst he did it—we puffed up our cigarettes to make a light while he made the notes—I had had cigarettes before—I had not seen him making any notes that evening before—I did not notice if Cochrane had any paper or anything with him—my father was making notes in a book—I do not think I should know it if I saw it—he did not show me the notes—Mr. John Worsley came out of Fern Bank—we all three walked across to him—he asked my father if he had seen anything happen—he said yes—he then asked my father if he would come in and accuse him—my father said yes—Cochrane was there—he made no objection or protest against going in—we all went in and my father accused Mr. Joseph Worsley—Mr. Joseph Worsley replied, "Nonsense"—Mrs. Worsley did not say anything—Mr. Joseph Worsley asked my father who he was—my father gave him a card—we came outside—we stood listening and could hear Mr. Jack Worsley shouting very loudly—we got the other man from the gate and then walked home—as we had lost the last train—this note book and this pencil report are both in my writing—I made them the next day—I wrote the note book first—my father told me and Cochrane to make a report—I asked Cochrane as he was making his for the times—I made the pencil report on the same day as I made the note book report—I asked Cochrane for the times—I got the rest of it from him—I kept asking as he was writing—they are exactly the same words.
Cross-examined. I did not see anything improper or immoral in the conduct of Mr. Joseph and Mrs. John Worsley—I followed them the whole of the way—I did not come up to London to attend the trial—I did not go to Mr. Pearson last year, before the trial, to make any statement—I cannot remember whether I did or did not—I know where his office is—I used to go there very often—Cochrane and I were together when my father told us to make out our reports—we sat down and did so there and then—my father was not present when we did it—he went out of the office—I do not know where he had gone—he did not remain and tell us what to enter in our note books—I do not know if Cochrane had a watch on the 17th—I do not know where Cochrane got the times from—I think he
was reading them out of his head—there is no reference to the stile in the little note-book—the pencil report was not written out by me some days after the first report, but I am not sure—Cochrane gave me the information which was added to it—my father was not present when the pencil report was made—I put it on my father's desk—my father has put some words right which I spelt wrong—he has also put in something fresh—he said the times were wrong—I do not know how soon after I put it on the desk; it was within a day or two—I did not see him rub the times out—they have been rubbed out—the new times look as if they were in my father's writing—I never saw him write anything in the report—I did not know that he had made any alterations—he said he had put in different times—on the 17th we did not ask anyone if a couple had gone down Engine Brow—we were immediately behind Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Worsley the whole of the way, so there was no necessity for us to ask, because we never lost sight of them—I only saw my father and Cochrane behind me—I had no notion that a man and a woman were following us down the fields.
THOMAS WILLIAM HUDSON . I am an architect and surveyor of Oxford-Street, Manchester—I have made plans of this pathway and neighbourhood—I have been over the ground (Pointing out the several distances and measurements on the plan.)
JOHN STAPLETON WORSLEY . I was the petitioner in the divorce case—I am the prosecutor's nephew—I first consulted the prisoner's firm on June 13th—I saw Cochrane, and gave him some particulars, which he took down—altogether I have paid the prisoner £9 or £10—on June 17th I went out of Fern Bank and found the prisoner and Cochrane outside—Cochrane unhesitatingly agreed with the prisoner as to what he had seen—I ordered my wife and sister-in law outside the house by twelve o'clock—I went to the prisoner's office next morning—he told me what he had seen—Cochrane told me practically the same thing, and then I think the prisoner brought his son in, and he told me the same—the prisoner said he had caught my uncle and my wife committing adultery either at the gateway or up the road, I cannot swear which he said—he also said that owing to the want of cover they could not actually swear that adultery had taken place at the stile, as they could not get near them—he said he felt nearly sure that they had committed adultery—Cochrane was present, and readily agreed with the prisoner—the boy was also present—I think he also said that he had seen adultery committed—I took more notice of the prisoner and Cochrane than of the boy—the prisoner made a report, and I feel sure that Cochrane did the same—the prisoner then asked me if I was going to take the matter to my solicitors, and he asked me who they were—I told him March, Clayton, and Pearson—Cochrane had given me several solicitors' names when I had first instructed them—I told the prisoner that I was going to put it in the hands of my solicitors—he said, "I will go with you"—I said, "Yes, I want you, too, and to take the reports"—I went with him to Mr. Pearson's—the reports were handed to him, and I instructed him to commence divorce proceedings—early in November, 1902, I called at the prisoner's office, to ask him if he had heard when the trial was to take place—I got there about 5.35 p.m.—I saw Mr. Hargreaves, his bookkeeper
keeper—I asked if the prisoner was in—he said, "Have you met your uncle?"—I said, "No. I have not"—he said, "He was here two minutes ago, and he has left a message to get Mr. George as soon as possible; he will be back here at 5.45, and he wants to see him on most important business"—I said to Hargreaves, "I am rather curious to know what this important business is about"—the lavatory is open at the top, it is in the corner—I stood in there behind some clothes until about 6.45, when the prisoner came in—Hargreaves told him I was in the lavatory—the prisoner said to me, "I suppose this will be the last and final effort Uncle Joe will be making?"—Uncle Joe came in—he said, "How frightfully stuffy this place is"—the prisoner opened the ventilator—Uncle Joe sat down—he said to the prisoner, "Well, have you considered that?"—he was referring to some previous visit he had made—the prisoner said he had, and then said, "Mr. Worsley, I will not undertake that job for £3,500 or twice £3,500, and a kingdom on top of all that"—Uncle Joe said, "You are a very foolish man"—he stayed five or ten minutes longer, pressing the prisoner to do all sorts of things—I cannot remember what it was now—after he had gone the prisoner came and unlocked the lavatory, and I came out—I shook hands with the prisoner, and thanked him for the honest and upright manner in which he was dealing with me—I got this letter (Produced) from Cochrane, about January 12th asking for a situation—two or three days afterwards I went and saw him—he said, "I suppose you have heard I have been discharged by Mr. George?"—I said I had, and I was very sorry to hear it—I asked him if he was doing anything—he said he was not—I said, "If Uncle Joe hears of you being out of employment he will not be long before he finds you a job"—he said, "What good shall I be to Uncle Joe? I told the truth in the Divorce Court, and you cannot get beyond that"—then he went on to speak of Mr. Pearson and myself always behaving to him in a gentlemanly manner, and that the prisoner had treated him most shabbily, and that if he ever had a chance to do him a thick one he would do so—I said, "Don't talk like that; I will go and see Mr. George, and see if he will take you back."
Cross-examined. I was examined as a witness in the divorce case—I was called on November 11th—I did not mention the fact of Mr. Joseph Worsley having offered a bribe to the prisoner—I wanted to, but my solicitor would not allow me; he said it would be rather sharp—the prisoner was acting for me from June 13th down to the time of the trial—Mr. Joseph Worsley paid George several visits—I do not know the date of the last letter I received from my wife before November 11th—I was constantly receiving letters from her, which I handed to my solicitor—I never replied to a single one—she forwarded me letters which she was receiving from Mr. Joseph Worsley—I remember a letter of June 15th—she said in the witness box that letter was a tissue of inventions—I first heard of her confession a few days after I had instructed Mr. Pearson on June 18th—I went there with the prisoner, and gave Mr. Pearson my instructtions—I do not remember when I next saw him—I saw him very often, perhaps two or three times the same day—I believe my wife was writing to me for money at the time she made her confession—I do not remember
if she said that she had made a confession because she wanted money, and that if she had been able to see me to get money she would not have made it—she said that Uncle Joe dictated it—I received another letter from her, saying that she had made the confession thinking I should get a nice sum of money, but she never thought I should divorce her, and asking me to take her back when it was all over, and that it seemed hard that I should make a fortune out of her and then throw her on the streets—I do not know if that was dictated by Uncle Joe or not.
Re-examined. I also received a letter from her, saying that she had not a friend in the world, that she had been a good wife, and was now ruined by my own flesh taking advantage of her, and saying, "What was I in his hands?"—In one of her letters she said that she had told Uncle Joe that he had got his own wife, and that he said he was tired of her.
By the COURT. I was not living with my wife, as man and wife for four months before these events.
ISABELLA WORSLEY . I am the wife of John Worsley, who obtained a decree against me in November on the ground of my adultery with Mr. Joseph Worsley—on June 17th I went into various shops—I eventually went to North Dean—I came out with my uncle—we went up a path to the cricket field—before we got out of the ground we stood at a gate leading to a field and uncle Joe tried to kiss me, we stood there for about five minutes—he did not kiss me, because I prevented him—we went out by the back gate across the waste ground into "Bolton Road—we went arm in arm—we passed two women at the top of Engine Brow—Uncle Joe said good-night—we went through the first stile at the bottom of the Brow to the second stile, where we stood for a few minutes, then he lifted me on to the stile,' and, standing by it, he committed adultery—we were there for about fifteen minutes altogether—we then walked through the field—before he committed adultery I said, "What are you doing?" he said, "I will do you no harm"—I grabbed hold of him—I did not call out, I did not see anybody to call to—we went to a gateway in Rake Lane—we stood side by side—he exposed himself—he got hold of my clothing—I do not know if he heard anything, but he said, "Walk on, Bell"—I did not see anybody, I walked on—as I was coining back to meet Uncle Joe I met two men and a boy—we had been in the gateway for about ten minutes—as I was returning to Uncle Joe the men passed me—I did not see a man walking slowly with a stick—when I got to Fern Bank I spoke to my sister—my husband went out and fetched the men in—Uncle Joe was in the kitchen—next morning I left the house—Uncle Joe said he would meet me at 12 o'clock at his place of business in Manchester—I went there with my sister, and he was not there—my sister and I waited about—just as we were going up Catherine Street Uncle Joe came round the corner—we went to a cafe—Uncle Joe left us for a while having some business to do—we met him again at 5 o'clock, and he told us we must go back to Fern Bank—I said it was no use going back—he said, "If you can get inside the house again, you are all right"—my sister went and tried—I stayed outside—Haydon gave her a sovereign for our fares to Liverpool—I think I went to Mr. Pearson the next morning
with my sister—he was out the first time we went—we went again the same day, the 18th—my sister had been to my husband's office to see if he would make things all right—he said if we wanted anything we were to go to Mr. Pearson, so we went—he was my husband's solicitor—he sent us away—he said he was hostile to me—he told me to go to another solicitor as he was acting for my husband—I went back again and signed this statement (Produced.)—my sister, and I think a clerk were there—I do not know if this is Mr. Pearson's writing—(The confession was then read, slating that she had committed adultery)—there is a passage in it which says "And at North Dean, Pendlebury," but adultery was not committed there, and those words were struck out—I had these letters (Produced) from uncle Joe—I saw him continually up to November—I remember going to a cafe and signing a document retracting my confession—I went to meet him by appointment with my sister—Uncle Joe said to my sister, "Ada, are you going to do some shopping?"—she said "Yes"—he said, "Well you had better go, and Bell will come on with me"—she left us, and Uncle Joe and I went to the Art Gallery—he got. a pen and some ink—he brought some paper and some foolscap out of his pocket, and I copied what was written word for word—then he said something about the man at the door signing it—I said, "That will not do"—he said. "I will get two girls in the cafe to sign it"—we went to a cafe in Byron Street—my sister was outside—he told her to wait outside—I went in with him—I had signed my name in the Art Gallery; he had the paper folded up, and said, "Bell, you use the dry pen and then the girls will think you signed it"—then two of the girls witnessed it—I do not know their names—I wrote to Uncle Joe that same night—the retractation was not true—I went to see the prisoner and asked him certain questions as to the meaning of adultery—Uncle Joe had been in the habit of telling me improper tales—he told me what I had never known before, andhe told me things about my husband; he said that my husband was visiting a girl every day in town, and he was locked in a room every day and committing adultery—I do not know if he committed adultery every day, but he said he went there every day, and that he could prove it—I came here with my father—I am with him now—I am giving evidence on my own accord—I saw in the paper that the prisoner had been arrested.
Cross-examined. I said in the Divorce Court that I had not committed adultery with Joseph Worsley—for about six months before June 19th I had been sleeping in a different room to my husband—differences existed between us in June, 1902, in regard to Haydon Worsley, and in conesquence on June 2nd I wrote to my uncle asking him to see me—it was true that I had been knocked down—June 17th was the only occasion that improper behaviour had taken place between my uncle and myself—he had kissed me before in my husband's presence—he did not succeed in kissing me on June 17th—I was under his influence for six months—I did not know what I was writing or doing—he knew I was writing those letters—I am going to tell the truth now, whatever I said in the Divorce Court—I am not going to see an innocent man punished for the
guilty—what I said in the Divorce Court was not true—I promised I would stick to Uncle Joe, and I did as well as I could—I did not consent to Uncle Joe doing what he did to me, but what was I in his hands?—I did not resist, I said something to him, but I cannot remember what it was—all I can say is that adultery was committed—I have come here against my own self—Uncle Joe lifted my clothes when we were in the gateway, having committed adultery with me just before—I do not know why he did not commit adultery at the gateway—he told me, in the Divorce Court, to keep clear of the gateway and I did so—I said in the Divorce Court that we did not go in to the recess—I was under Uncle Joe's influence, and I have got the prisoner in trouble over it—if Uncle Joe had taken me to a proper solicitor I should not be in this mess now—my husband, through my sister, referred me to his own solicitor, and I went to see Mr. Pearson on June 18th—I do not remember the time—I went again on the 19th, and in my presence and in my sister's he wrote out the document which I signed—Uncle Joe knew that I was writing letters to my husband, and knew nearly everything that was in them—he asked me if I was writing to my husband, and I said innocently enough, yes I was—Uncle Joe impressed upon me the necessity to settle the matter, and I was doing my best—I was threatening to expose my husband at Uncle Joe's dictation, by secrets which I had learned during my married life: I was under Uncle Joe's influence, if I had kept away from him I should not have been here—contemporaneous with the letters to my husband, I was writing most pitiful letters to Uncle Joe—he told me he had burned them—I instructed Mr. Woollacott at Uncle Joe's dictation, and then I instructed Mr. Frank Lee—Mr. Pearson asked me if I had any solicitor I would like to go to, and he gave me Mr. Lee's address—I saw the prisoner two or three times during the week I was in Manchester—Uncle Joe knew that I was in league with the petitioner and the detectives—I asked for alimony, and the document was drawn up—no payment was to be due until the first hearing of the divorce case had taken place—I think I got alimony from July—my husband allowed it to me—Uncle Joe was writing to me from June to November—I sent his letters to my husband, because I was taxed with it that it was my fault, and that I was making appointments with him—I did not know that they were going to be used in the Divorce Court—the confession that I made was true, the retractation was made at Uncle Joe's dictation; it was false—he told me to say that I had signed the retractation because I was on my beam ends for money—he never came to Claremont—he told me what to say in my letter of June 15th—he was not present when I wrote it—I wrote to my husband on June 18th, and on the 20th I wrote asking through Mr. Pearson for money—in one of the letters to my husband I accused him of abortion at Uncle Joe's dictation—I do not remember if I wrote a letter saying that paragraphs 3 and 4 in the petition were not true—Mr. Woollacott was my solicitor in London—I was in Liverpool—I have said in a number of letters that Uncle Joe never committed adultery with me.
Re-examined. I have also said in letters that he has committed adultery
with me, and that is true—it was Uncle Joe who first spoke to me about alimony, and Mr. Woollacott got 12s. 6d. a week for me.
By the COURT. I did not hear the summing up of the Judge at the Divorce Court—the letter that I wrote to my sister Ada was not dictated by Uncle Joe—I accused him of impropriety with me—it is dated the Saturday before the 17th—I said he had been walking out with me—it was proved that he was not there—the Judge said that it was not true, and I said it was all fun—when I was living with my husband I thought I was pregnant, but I was not—he sent me to a doctor—it was a lie when I said that my husband had sent me to a person who used implements.
EDGAR CROSSFIELD PEARSON . I am a member of March, Clayton, and Pearson, solicitors, of Lloyd Street, Manchester—I was the solicitor for the petitioner in the divorce case—I gave evidence—I have been admitted a solicitor for nearly five years—my firm has been in existence, I think, since 1853—I am an M.A. of Oxford University—I was first consulted by the petitioner, I think, on the morning of June 18th, when he called with the prisoner, who made a statement as to what he had seen the previous night—Mr. John Worsley also made a statement, in consequence of which I was instructed to commence the divorce proceedings—I think the prisoner said that he had actually caught Mr. Joseph and Mrs. John at the gate, and that he felt fairly certain that something wrong had taken place at the stile; that he had not paid so much attention to the stile; but had concentrated his attention on the gate—I got the report—I am not certain when I got it—on the 18th I also had a visit from Mrs. John Worsley and her sister—I sent her away the first time because I did not think it was proper for her to make statements to me without a full consideration—I think I told her she ought to go and see the co-respondent—she came again the next day—I had the petition in rough draft before she came—I may have been preparing it when she called, I am not quite certain—I was preparing the petition on the evidence given me by the prisoner, coupled with that of the husband—when she came the first time she asked me what her husband was going to do—I said her husband was going to take divorce proceedings against her—I think I may have said, "What are you going to do?"—she said, "I do not think I am going to do anything"—I think I then told her that she ought not to make any statement to me, as I was absolutely hostile to her and if she never came to see me again I should not refer to what she had said—I told her I thought the proper course for her would be to go and seek another independent solicitor—I think I also told her she ought to see Mr. Joseph Worsley—I think she went away—she came again on the 19th—before the confession was signed I told her again that I was hostile and she ought to go to another solicitor—she said she did not want to go to one, and she did not intend to defend the case I think she said, as she had been caught—I pointed out to her it was a very serious omission, and I finally asked her if she was prepared to put it on formal record—she finally said she was—I had the draft petition before mo, and I incorporated portions of it in the confession—then I read it through to her, and when she heard me say that adultery had been committed at North Dean, and out of doors, she said it was not committed
at North Dean—I said, "I will cross that out"—I made it quite plain to her what the thing meant—I do not remember where I got the information about North Dean from, it was either from her husband or from the prisoner—she signed the confession in the presence of my clerk, and I was sure she fully understood the meaning of it—I think the first time she came she mentioned certain secrets and suggested that her husband might pay her something if she kept them quiet—I said, "What are they"—she said, "I will tell you"—I said, "We cannot give you any money at all"—I said it was the practice of the Divorce Courts to order alimony until she was absolutely divorced, and if she wanted to get alimony she had better apply for it in the usual way, but I did not want to retract the confession—I got the material for supplying the particulars for the petition from the prisoner—he gave me the times, but I cannot say now whether they were from a book or not—I asked him the time of arrival at the stile, the time of the departure from the stile, the time of arrival and departure from the gate, and so on, but I cannot swear if it was from a book—on September 26th I took his proof—my recollection is that the prisoner and Cochrane were both in the office—I called my shorthand writer in, and the prisoner gave me his account of what he had seen—I then dictated paragraph by paragraph to the shorthand writer—when I had finished the prisoner's proof I was very busy—I said to Cochrane, "You have heard what George said, do you corroborate that in every way?"—he said, "Yes, I do," and I then dictated to the shorthand writer, "Herbert Cochrane says he can corroborate George," and so on—I remember going 'through the proof with Cochrane—I think I wanted him to tell me what he had seen on the night of June 13th—I sent for him and got him to give his description of it, and while he was there I went through the prisoner's proof with him—he took exception to the part about the gateway, where the prisoner said he had seen the dress lifted up—I sent a specially amended proof to my London agents asking them to correct Cochrane's proof accordingly—some of the alterations in the report (Exhibit 4) are in my writing—I put in "one" of the back bedroom windows—I think I got the information from the prisoner—I think I did that when I took the information down—on December 22nd the prisoner came with Cochrane—he had before that complained to me about Cochrane—he said that Cochrane had been guilty of what he considered a rather serious breach of duty in the way of being late and having said that he had seen people going about when he had never been there at all—I gave Cochrane a talking to, and said it was a most serious matter—I do not remember Cochrane saying then anything about this case—he afterwards came to me and said, "Have you heard that Mr. George has discharged me"—I said, "Yes, I have, and I think he has given you every opportunity, he is quite right to discharge you"—he said, "Do you think he will take me back"—I said, "Well, I have heard something of what you said when you left him, and considering what you said then I do not think he ought to take you back; is not it a fact that you then said that you were going over to Uncle Joe?"—he said, Yes, he had—I said, "If anything you said was wrong in the Worsley case you must certainly try and put that wrong right"—I think I went
on to say, "Of course, I do not want to pry into your private affairs, but do not hesitate either for regard to me or for Mr. John Worsley to put the wrong right"—I believe he had some regard for both of us—he said there was nothing wrong,—I said, "What were you going to say to Mr. John Worsley?"—he said he had something to say, but what he had said he did not mean; that the prisoner had made him do things he did not like, and that he, the prisoner, was rather fond of money—he came to me again on March 17th, 1903, and said, "Have you heard Mr. George is going to be prosecuted for perjury"—I said, "No, it is rather a surprising thing to me that it was suggested, considering that Mr. George and you were believed in the Divorce Court"—he said, "It, is so all the same"—I said, "Who has told you so"—he said, "I have been seen by someone from Mr. Joseph Worsley, and have been asked to turn King's evidence"—I said, "What do you mean by turning King's evidence, that can only be applied when a man has not been telling the truth in a case of this sort"—he said, "Well, that is just what I told the man who came to see me"—I asked him who it was who had been to see him—he said he would rather not tell me—I said, "Is it a man named Colton?"—he said, that Messrs. Cobbett were undertaking the prosecution—I reminded him that a new trial might be granted, and said, "Are you still prepared to give the same evidence"—he said, "I would rather be out of the thing altogether I do not like it, but still if it comes to a new trial I will do it"—Herbert George was not called at the first trial, because I thought it was not proper to have a boy like that in the Divorce Court; he is only fifteen years old—I knew of the lavatory incident before the first trial, but I thought it was not quite fair play to bring it in—I thought it would impress the jury rather badly—I endeavoured to get Mrs. Worsley to have independent advice, and afterwards she went fully into the matter with Mr. Lee, who had put it to me that in the Divorce Court it was the usual practice for the husband to deposit security, or to advance the costs—he put it to me that instead of going to the expense of applying for costs in London, he should send me an undertaking, and when the draft came I got Mr. John Worsley to sign it—on the day it was signed the time for Mrs. Worsley's defence had expired, when she would have had to make a special application to have a defence put in, and according to my instructions and belief, if she had defended this, I was going to say at the suggestion of Mr. Joseph Worsley, I did not think that her husband should be saddled with the costs—when the prisoner came to Manchester I found him acting for people of substance, the Dunlop Tyre Company and the Welsbach Light Company, and also I did some business for him, and I thought him, and I still think him, a man I can trust, and I lent him some money—Juby had been with us for about five years, but latterly he got a little careless and I thought he had better leave—he has now pulled himself together and got a situation in Liverpool, I believe—during the interregnum the prisoner gave him two or three nights' work.
Cross-examined. I do not know when I first knew the prisoner, but I think about February, 1902—I do not know when he opened his office, or when it was furnished—I think it was about a month after I knew him
that I lent him money, I think for the purpose of opening the business—I think I lent him about £25—it has not been paid off—I sent some cases over to him—he was often at my office—Herbert George would be sent to see when I would be in if the prisoner came across—our offices were roughly speaking about eight minutes' walk apart—I had several other cases of the prisoner's in hand in June—I do not say that it was unwise for me to be so connected with a private inquiry agent—he was doing business for other solicitors—I do not know what became of the report that was brought on June 18th—Mr. John Worsley may have had it, or the prisoner, or myself—when the proof was taken on September 26th I had the report in front of me, but whether it was handed to me by the prisoner or whether it was in my possession I cannot say—I think when I took the particulars from the prisoner for the proof I told him they would have to be altered slightly—I think I noticed that the times in the report did not agree with those in the particulars—I do not remember if the report of June 17th was brought to London—on the day of the trial that report was called for—I cannot say if it was stated that it was then in Manchester—I think Mr. Justice Barnes asked for the original reports—it was said that they could be procured by the next day—I think Mr. Robson asked me what was in the reports, and I said that they were amplified—there were two reports, one of June 13th and one of the 17th—I forget the actual wording of them—they did not prove any act of adultery—the confession was in substance the petition repeated—it was left with me—I do not think that on June 19th I rang Mr. Joseph Worsley up—I may have done so on the 18th, but I do not think it was likely—the respondent had filed no answer to the case—her time for doing so had run out by August 29th.
Re-examined. The case of Rees v. Rees in which I was acting and which the defendent was employed in was an undefended case—the man was living in open adultery—the case of Somerville was also undefended—the prisoner was in that—I believe the practice in the Divorce Court is that the wife is entitled to costs up to a certain point—the evidence that I had of specific adultery when Mr. John Worsley and the detectives came to me and I prepared the petition, was based on statements of the detectives.
By the COURT. I had no direct evidence of adultery committed on the 17th except the statements of the detectives—I did not know that in the opinion of Lord Hannen and every Judge sitting in Court, the evidence of people who get up evidence in these cases is not relied upon unless corroborated—I had no direct evidence—Mr. Justice Barnes followed my petition—I prepared the confession on the lines of the petition—Mrs. Worsley told me that there was no adultery committed at North Dean—I am afraid I did not weigh one against the other, the statement of the woman who said no adultery had been committed at North Dean and the statements of the detectives, who by their reports, thought there might' have been—I did not know if the lady was telling me the whole truth or the truth at all—the learned Judge in his summing up said that the room whore the light was said to he was the housekeeper's, and after I had heard the housekeeper give evidence I was satisfied; before that I could
only draw inferences—Mrs. Worsley told me that she wanted to make a change of solicitors: she said Messrs. Woollacott were advising her to defend—then she said she did not want to defend—I did not write to Messrs. Woollacott—I am afraid I did not think it necessary—perhaps now, looking back, it would have been better, but I have endeavoured to do my duty in this case, which has been a great strain upon me.
GUILTY . Five year's penal servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
WILLIAM SAMUEL YEO PLEADED GUILTY . Three months' hard labour. The prosecution not wishing to press the charge against Annie Ada Yeo no evidence was offered against her.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. GRANTHAM. Prosecuted; MR. DOUGHTY. Defended.
GEOGRE PEPPER . I am an errand boy—on Monday, May 4th, about 11.30 p.m., I was at the corner of Glenister Street, North Woolwich, saying good night to a friend, when the prisoner came up and asked me what I was doing—I did not' answer—he then took a revolver out of his trouser's pocket, and said, "Do you see this; if you do not go home I will blow your brains out"—I started to move away, and he fired at me—the bullet passed my right ear and struck on the kerb—I then saw a constable and charged the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I forgot to say at the police court that the bullet passed my right ear—I had never seen the prisoner before—he was drunk—I was about fourteen yards away from him when I heard the report—I do not think he had any intention of shooting me.
JOHN SAWYER . I am a labourer, of Woolwich—on May 4th I was with Pepper—I saw the prisoner coming towards us, and I moved away—he then said something to Pepper, I do not know what, and pulled out a revolver and pointed it at Pepper and fired—he then rushed into a house, and I went for the police.
Cross-examined. Pepper was on the opposite side of the road when the prisoner fired—I had seen the prisoner showing the revolver to some men earlier in the evening—he had been drinking.
the prisoner's house—he was in bed—I said "Have you a revolver?"—he said, "No, you can search the place, it was my mate who fired the revolver"—on looking round the place I found this revolver (Produced) behind a sailor's bag loaded with one cartridge and an empty one apparently recently discharged—I asked him to come with me to the station, which he did—two cartridges were found on him there—when charged, he said, "I am not guilty of firing"—at the station he said it was his revolver.
Cross-examined. He seemed perfectly quiet when I saw him.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a fireman on board ship; that on the night in question he had been drinking heavily, and was unloading the revolver before going indoors when it accidentally went off.
NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
MR. GRANTHAM. for the prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FRIEND. Prosecuted.
WILLIAM LEEPER . I am a carpenter of New Road, Canning Town—on Monday, May 4th, about midnight, I was walking along the Victoria Dock Road, and was set upon by three men—I recognise Quirk as one of them—he jumped on me and put his arms round my neck, while the others were rifling my pockets—he also hit me on my stomach—one kicked me on my shins which brought me to the ground—I had about £2 in my left trouser's pocket—I next saw Tidy at the police station in Tidal Basin.
ALBERT GOODENOUGH . (832 K.) On the night of May 4th I was in Victoria Dock Road and saw the two prisoners holding the prosecutor while another man was going through his pockets—I went towards them—when they saw me they ran into Custom Street, where I arrested Quirk—I took him to the station, and told the prosecutor to follow the other two men—I told Quirk I should arrest him for robbing William Leeper—he made no reply when charged.
Cross-examined by Quirk. I did not threaten to beat your brains out if you did not go to the station quietly.
Cross-examined by Tidy. You were with Quirk.
WILLIAM FORD . (89 K.) I arrested Tidy in Freemason's Tavern, Victoria. Dock Road—I told him I should arrest him for being concerned with two other men in feloniously robbing William Leeper on the night of May 4th—he said, "All right, sir, I will go with you"—I took him to the police-station at Canning Town—he was placed with eight other men and at once identified by the constable—I saw the prosecutor at the station—he was quite sober, but looked very much dazed as if he had been maltreated—I found sevenpence in bronze on Tidy.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Quirk says: "I am an
honest man. I go to sea for my living. I have been home six weeks was waiting for the boat to get repaired. I was going home, and go arrested by the police. I was under the influence of drink at the time have no witnesses." Tidy says: "On May 4th I was indoors at ten o'clock at night. I have no witnesses."
GUILTY .—Tidy then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at West Ham Quarter Sessions on August 1st, 1902, and six other convictions were proved against him. QUIRK— Twelve months' hard labour. TIDY— Five years' penal servitude.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. METCALFE. Prosecuted; and MR. GREEN. Defended.
WILLIAM JOHN THOMAS . I am managing clerk to Mr. Stern, of 15, West Ham Lane, Stratford—I was present at the hearing of Ansell against Isenberg at the Bow County Court on April 1st—the prisoner was sworn and gave evidence—he was represented by Counsel—he was asked by his Counsel whether he had ever seen Mr. Pou, Mr. Moses, or Mr. Schachnic—he replied that he had never seen either of them in his life—the same question was put again and again in cross-examination, and he gave a similar answer each time—at that time Moses, Pou, and Schachnic had given evidence, and the prisoner bad had an opportunity of seeing them—he also swore that he had not received £30 from Mrs. Ansell or any other sum—he also denied receiving the £28—Mrs. Ansell had given her evidence about the two sums, and had been corroborated.
Cross-examined by MR. GREEN. The letter written by my firm to Barnet Isenberg of December 29th saying that the money was given to him was written by a junior clerk and is full of inaccuracies—my instructions on January 30th, when I issued the writ were that the £58 was a loan to Simon Isenberg—Mrs. Ansell got judgment at the Bow County Court, and execution was put in—there were no goods, and we had notice that the prisoner had filed his petition in bankruptcy—our costs came to £3216s. 8d.
HERMAN GAUSON . I am a clerk in the Savings Bank Department of the General Post Office—I produce the bank book of Lena Marks, who I now know to be Mrs. Ansell—the account was opened on March 3rd, 1893—£30 was drawn out on January 28th, 1901, and the balance on April 16th this year—the account is now closed.
LENA ANSELL . I am a widow, living at 10, Vine Court, Whitechapel—I have been a monthly, nurse for thirty-five years—in 1893 I opened an account in the General Post Office in the name of Lena Marks—my name was then Marks—in January, 1901, I had about £80 there—my daughter became engaged to the prisoner's son about Christmas, 1900—about the end of January, 1901, the prisoner asked me to lend him £30, as he wanted to make his business bigger—I drew it out of the bank and went with my daughter to the prisoner's shop, and handed it to him—he counted it out to see that it was all right—his son was present—some time after he asked me for some more money, and I lent him £28—I handed that to him over
the counter at his shop—my daughter was present—I did not take any acknowledgments for it—about six months afterwards I asked him for the money—he kept promising to pay me, but humbugged me about every time I went for it—I then took a Mr. Moses and a Mr. Schachnic with me to get it—when we got to the shop I asked the prisoner for the money—he said he had not got it—then Mr. Schachnic said, "Why don't you give her the money; she is a widow woman and works hard?"—he said, "I am not in a hurry, let her wait"—he offered to give me an I.O.U. for the money, but did not—I went again with a Mr. Pou, but could not get it, and after some time I brought an action in the Bow County Court and got judgment—I have never received the money.
Cross-examined. I was not introduced to the prisoner by a Mr. Goldberg—I never promised Goldberg a commission for bringing about a marriage between my daughter and the prisoner's son—I did say I would give young Isenberg a little money when he married my daughter—I did not hand the £30 or the £28 to young Isenberg—I did not promise him £100 as a dowry with my daughter—I went to my solicitor on December 29th—by that time the match had been broken off.
ROSE ANSELL . I am 20, and the daughter of Lena Ansell—in December, 1900, I became engaged to Barnet Isenberg, and that engagement lasted till August, 1902—in the early part of 1901 I went with my mother to the savings bank—she drew out £30, and we then went together to the prisoner's house—we saw Simon and Barnet Isenberg there, and Simon asked mother if she had got the money—she said, "Yes," and handed him £30—he counted it over and said "Thank you"—some time after I went there again with my mother—she took £28 with her in a handkerchief, and handed it to Simon Isenberg—he counted it over, thanked her, and said he would give it to her back whenever she wanted it—in October, 1901, I went with my mother to the prisoner's house—she asked him for the money, and he said he had not got it just then, it was in the business—he did not say when he would pay it.
Cross-examined. I was introduced to Barnet Isenberg by Goldberg—Barnet told me he was in business with his father—I never heard my mother say she would give Barnet some money when we were married—the prisoner told my mother that he wanted the money for his business—I am sure the £28 was given to the prisoner over the counter at his shop—when I said at the police court that it was given him in the shop parlour. I made a mistake.
TANNEY JACOB MOSES . I am a grocer and provision merchant of 56, Royal Mint Street—I have known Mrs. Ansell for some years—about the end of October, 1902, she asked me to speak to Simon Isenberg for her—I went with her and a Mr. Schachnic to his shop, and Mrs. Ansell asked for the £58. and at first he denied owing it—afterwards he said he had not got it then but would give her an I.O.U.—we then left—he did not give her an I.O.U. then—some time after I went again with Mrs. Ansell and a Mr. Pou—the prisoner then said that he had made presents to Rose, and had made the engagement party, and he wanted to deduct those expenses from the £58 and give Mrs. Ansell the balance.
Cross-examined. I never had any discussion with the prisoner about the wedding between Miss Ansell and Barnet Isenberg—I gave evidence at Bow County Court—I heard the prisoner say that he had never seen me in his life.
MENDEL SCHACHNIC . I am a baker, of 23, Baker's Row, Whitechapel—I went to the prisoner's shop with Mrs. Ansell and Mr. Moses—Mrs. Ansell asked him for the money, and he said he had not got it, it was in the business; he had bought a horse and van and bottles, but he would give her an I.O.U. for it.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Ansell said she wanted the money to make the wedding—I never heard the prisoner say that Mrs. Ansell had given the money to Barnet Isenberg.
JOACHIM POU . I am a cigar maker, of 77, Bow Road, and assistant secretary to the Cigar Makers' Association—I have known Mrs. Ansell some years—I first heard of the matter between Simon Isenberg and her last Christmas—on January 10th I went to see Simon at Mrs. Ansell's request—I told him I had come there for the purpose of asking him to give Mrs. Ansell some acknowledgment for the £58 that he had had from her; he said he did not know anything about it, but his son had the money and he was under age and we could not touch him—he then said that he preferred to see Mr. Moses and Mr. Schachnic, and he would settle the matter with them—I then left—two days after I went again with Mr. Moses and Mrs. Ansell—the prisoner then said that if we agreed to his deducting the amount he had expended on presents and for the engagement feast, he would give her the balance, which "would come to about £20—we agreed to that—a week later I went again as he had not paid over the money, and he then said that he would not do so unless Miss Ansell agreed to marry his son—I told him that was nothing to do with me, and if he was—not prepared to carry out the agreement I was not prepared to do anything else—I gave evidence at Bow County Court—I heard Moses and Schachnic give their evidence—I heard the prisoner swear that he had never seen me in his life, and had had no conversation with me.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the £30 and £28 were never given by Mrs. Ansell to him, but to his son as a present; and that when he said he had never seen Moses, Schachnic, or Pou, he did not understand the question.
Evidence for the defence.
BARNET ISENBERG . I am 19,' and am the prisoner's son—I became engaged to Rose Ansell in 1900, and then Mrs. Ansell promised me £100 for a present—she said she would give me half then, and half when we got married—just before Christmas, 1900, she gave me £30 in her house—it was on a Sunday—Mrs. Josephs was present at the time—some time in the following April she gave me a further £20—I did not put the money into my father's business.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. The £30 was given me by Mrs. Ansell to make the engagement party—I am sure I got it before Christmas,. 1900—I do not know anything about the £30 that Mrs. Ansell drew out of the bank on January 28th, 1901—Rose was not present when the
£30 was given me—Mrs. Josephs was present at Bow County Court, but was not called as a witness—it was about 12 o'clock in the day when Mrs. Ansell gave me the £30—I had taken some lemonade and other mineral waters to her house, and she gave it to me—she took it out of a drawer—she also took the £20 out of a drawer and gave it to me.
ESTHER JOSEPHS . I am the wife of Jacob Josephs—I am the prisoner's cousin—my mother is a nurse, and knows Mrs. Ansell—we are in the habit of visiting at each other's houses—I remember being at her house one Sunday morning just before Christmas, 1900, when Barnet Isenberg brought some lemonade to the house—I saw her take a purse from a chest of drawers and count out £30 on the table, and told Barnet to take it, and I heard her say "Do not forget to make a nice party, and do not forget to do what I told you"—Barnet took it up and then went away—when he had gone Mrs. Ansell told me that he was going to be her daughter's husband—I wished her joy.
Cross-examined. The £30 was in gold.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham
MR. MUIR. and MR. BODKIN. Prosecuted; and MR. ELLIOTT and MR. FITC.
ARTHUR WILLIAM HANCOCK . I am pay clerk to Wylie and Soames, soap merchants of East Greenwich—the prisoner worked for them for about a fortnight, up to Saturday, March 21st, as a labourer in the name of Karr—he was paid his wages that day shortly before one o'clock—he worked on the 'trucks on large consignments of candles, and taking them from store and dispatching them—he worked steadily—his wages were 24s. a week—he was expected back on the Monday morning—we never saw him again—he was a sober workman.
Cross-examined. I never noticed anything out of the way in him. Annie Jennings. I keep a cutler's shop at Church Street, Greenwich—between 7 and 7.30 p.m. on March 21st, the prisoner came to buy a revolver—he was the worse for drink—I said, "I do not think you want a revolver to-night, I do not see that you are in a fit state to carry one"—he pointed to one in a case and said he wanted to look at it—I said, "No, I do not think I shall serve you to-night"—he said yes, he wanted one, and "I bet you I can buy one from the pawnbrokers"—I said, "Well, if they serve you in the state you are to-night with that revolver, and you do any damage with it they ought to be punished as well as you"—he left and went to Mr. Oliver's, a pawnbroker, across the road—he was dressed in a dark working suit, like a working man—he had a bowler black felt hat—I never sell a revolver to a man the worse for-drink.
HERBERT DENNES . I am assistant to Mr. Oliver, of Church Street, Greenwich—between 7 and 7.30 p.m., on March 21st, the prisoner came and asked if we had second-hand revolvers—I took this one out of the window—it has six chambers—I handed it to the prisoner—he looked at it and asked the price—I said 9s. 6d.—he offered me 8s.—I refused that—he asked for some cartridges—I agreed to sell him the revolver and six cartridges for 9s.—I took a box of fifty cartridges from the window—I loaded the revolver—I do not remember if he asked me; I have done it before when asked—I do not think I have without being asked—he paid me 9s.—I wrapped the revolver in paper and gave it to him as it was, loaded—I agreed to accept 15d. for the remaining cartridges—he asked me to go and have a drink; I refused—he was in the shop about fifteen minutes—he was quite sober—he was dressed in a dark suit and felt hat—I took him to be a seafaring man—these are some of the cartridges, marked 320.
Cross-examined. I did not ask him for what purpose he wanted the revolver, that is not usual—if I am asked. I load a revolver—perhaps he did not know how to load it—I did not think about it.
JOHN BIRNIE . I am a soap maker of 19, Pender Street, Deptford—about 9.45 p.m. on Saturday, March 21st, I was walking along the Chesterfield Road, which runs parallel to and near the Dover Road—I saw two flashes, as if a pistol was shot—I walked to the spot—I saw constable Saunders—he and I tried to find the person who fired—we went across Blackheath—from 10.20 to 10.30 I sat on a seat—the prisoner came up and said, "That proves my argument, doesn't it, mate?"—I said, "I do not know, what is that?"—he" said, "There is not so much blocking done up here as there is anywhere else"—I said, "I do not know so much about that, but I do not suppose this place is worse than other places," he said, "We have been having an argument, and I have come here to prove it"—he said, "Do you know Inspector Hocking?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Do you know Detective Rous? "I said, "No"—he said, "If I met those two b----bastards I would blow their brains out, I would b----well shoot them"—I advised him not to do that, as it would get him into trouble—he said, "I will, they have b----well ruined me"—he took a revolver from his pocket, shewed it to me and said, "That is the bloke that will do it, that is the joker"—I again advised him to put it away, as he would get into trouble—he put it away, said good night, and walked away—he was wearing a felt hat and a dark suit of clothes—he staggered as if he was under the influence of liquor—he walked towards the corner of the park.
Cross-examined. He spoke rationally, but he gave me the impression that he was under the influence of drink—I did not argue with him—I told him I had better get on as it was getting late—I did get on.
CHARLES CROFT . I live' at 46, Beacon Road, Hither Green Lane, Lewisham—on Saturday, March 21st, I was in Shooter's Hill Road, near the Sun-in-the-Sands public house—I met the prisoner about 10.30 p.m. as I was coining towards Lewisham—he said, "How do you stand for a drink, mate?"—I said I had Dot got any as I had been out of work—he said, "Have you seen any cappers about?"—I said, "I have not noticed
any"—he showed me a revolver which he took from his pocket—he laid it flat in his hand and said, "Well, I have got one of those, you know"—I said, "You must be careful, they are not things to play with," and walked away—he called me back and gave me 1 1/2 d. to get a drink, and said, "I will never let it he said that I have robbed a poorer man than myself"—he seemed very much excited, and was all the time looking round as if for someone coming, and his eyes rolled very much—I think he was very much the worse for drink—he walked pretty fair.
Cross-examined. It would be fair to say he was either drunk or mad—I said so before the Magistrate.
CYRIL JERVAS SEATON . I live at 157, Church Lane, Old Charlton—I was in the saloon bar of the Royal Standard public house at 10.30 or 10.45 p.m. on March 21st—I saw the prisoner, whom I had known before, but had lost sight of him for some years—he said, "How is your brother?"—I said, "Which, the one in Calcutta, or the one in Durban?"—he said, "The one I was at the front with"—I said I had not a brother at the front—that is the fact—he said, "Is Captain Seaton still alive—I said, "No, he died in 1888"—Captain Seaton is my father—I asked him to have a drink—a glass was before him on the counter—the landlord said, "No more for him"—I thought the prisoner was sober—the landlord did not serve him—the prisoner asked me to go to another public house with him—I said good night and left him in the saloon bar.
THOMAS GEORGE CRADDOCK . I keep the Royal Standard public house, Vanburgh Park—about 10.45 on March 21st, the prisoner called for a glass of bitter while I was in the bar—he was served and drank part of it—then he spoke to Seaton, who called for another drink—I refused to serve him—his dress was disarranged, his trousers were down in front, and his left hand was bleeding from what looked like a scratch or cut—he had been drinking—the prisoner said, "You have done a nice thing for me, refusing to serve me, that was my boss"—he left that bar and came into another—my son called me, and I again refused to serve him—that was about 10.55—he was wearing a black felt hat like this (Produced).
Cross-examined. I have had twenty-six years' experience as a licensed victualler—I have held a license twenty-one years under the old Act and five under the new Act—I formed my opinion from his dress being disarranged.
SAMUEL SAUL . I live at 8, Lyveden Road, Shooter's Hill Road, Blackheath—I was in the Charlton Road on March 21st, about 11 p.m.—the prisoner spoke to me, but I did not hear him exactly, and said, "What do you say?"—he said "Have you seen any Volunteers in the Army"—I said, "Volunteers, no"—shortly afterwards I heard three shots fired, and a police whistle blown—I turned round and went back a little way up Marlborough Lane.
Cross-examined. He appeared to have been drinking, that is why I did not cross him—he showed me a revolver—I thought that looked very funny.
in the Charlton Road, near a house marked on the plan "Kurachee"—I saw the prisoner coming towards me from the direction of Vanburgh Park—he passed me on my left—a flash came under my chin—I heard a report—I gave a wink because it took my sight away, it was all simultaneous like—I took about two steps and turned round—the prisoner was then about seven yards from me—I saw another flash, and heard a report—I felt pain as though someone had struck me in the chest—I pulled out my whistle, blew it, and ran after the prisoner—as I ran I found the whistle was cut—I ran twenty or thirty yards when the prisoner turned again and fired at me—I continued running, blowing my whistle and shouting, "Stop that man" at intervals—I first blew and then shouted—the last I saw of him was crossing the road towards the corner of Marlborough Lane—I went to Dr. Kass and afterwards to Dr. Morris's surgery, where I was examined—while there Booker was brought in—we both were taken to the Cottage Hospital—I am still a patient there—the night was rather dark—it was clear enough to identify the prisoner—I have no doubt about it—the bullet has been discovered by the X-Rays, and this is a photograph of it.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before, nor given him reason for ill-feeling so far as I know.
THOMAS WARD . I live at 139, Church Lane, Charlton—about 11 p.m. on Saturday, March 21st, I was in Marlborough Lane—I heard three shots fired and a police whistle blown—a man ran past me and turned up Marlborough Lane—a constable ran towards me—I followed the man and shouted "Stop him"—close to Cherry Orchard Lane I heard a fourth shot—I saw the flash from the man I was running after—he ran down Marlborough Lane and got over a rail fence into the allotment gardens by the Cottage Hospital—turning back I met a constable and told him what I had done.
Cross-examined. I was there two or three minutes—two young men came up—I told them that a man had been shot.
MABEL BROWN . I am single, living at Delafield Road, Charlton—I met Walter Booker about 11 p.m. on March 21st accidentally—I walked with him along Marlborough Lane and Shooter's Hill Road—I heard a police whistle, and somebody call "Stop him"—opposite Cherry Orchard Lane I saw a man running and another after him—Booker went to stop the man, who then pointed the revolver at him—Booker put his hand to his stomach, found blood, and said, "The man has shot me"—I assisted Booker to Dr. Morris's, having first gone to another doctor, who was not at home—at Mr. Morris's surgery I saw Police Constable Cooper—I went to the Cottage Hospital with Booker—I saw him on the Sunday morning—he was very low.
CLARKE MORRIS . I am a medical man practising at Gordon Road, Charlton Road—about 11.15 on Saturday, March 21st, constable Cooper was brought to my surgery—while examining him Booker was brought in—I attended to both, and they were removed to the Cottage Hospital—about 1 a.m. I operated upon Booker—I extracted this bullet from inside the hip bone—I attended him with Dr. Cooper on March 22nd and
23rd—I left for my holiday on 23rd—this bullet is of the same character as the others I have examined—I tracked the course of the bullet in Cooper; I failed to find it till the X-rays were used, when it was discovered in some muscular tissue in the sixth inter space near the liver, as is shown in this photograph—the bullet is of the same character as the others.
FINCH WHITE . I live at 53, Vanbrugh Park, Blackheath—I saw Booker and Cooper in Dr. Morris's surgery on the night of March 21st—on March 24th I learned that Booker had died—I made a post mortem examination—I found that the bullet had bruised the peritoneum and set up gangrene—an abscess formed, and peritonitis resulted—the bullet in its course happened to wound the appendix, the discharge from which set up the abscess and peritonitis which caused, his death; but for the wound in the appendix he would probably have lived.
FREDERICK WILLIAM FORD . I live at 4, Troughton Road, Charlton—about 1 a.m. on Sunday, March 22nd, I met the prisoner in Shooter's Hill Road, about 100 yards from Marlborough Lane, walking in the road—he went towards Shooter's Hill—he had no hat on—he asked the way to Plumstead—after I directed him, he said, "I will have a cut to Abbey Wood"—he walked towards Blackheath and Abbey Wood—he could get to Plumstead that way—he appeared like a man who had been in a scramble and lost his hat—his clothes looked rather dirty, and he had his collar tucked up—his manner was cool—he appeared sober.
WALTER PHASEY . (85 R.) About 2.30 on March 22nd, I searched the allotment field, and found this hat, about 10.5 a.m., in that part which was near the Cottage Hospital, just inside the hedge—I did not notice marks of a struggle, but people walk over the allotments.
ARTHUR HAILSTONE . About 10.30 on Sunday, March 22nd, I saw Mr. William Malvern pick up this cartridge near the Cottage Hospital, nearly opposite the gate leading into the allotments—I went into the allotments and saw Inspector Winchcombe pick up this revolver—it was forced into the ground—the barrel appeared to be full of earth—it stuck up with the handle in the ground, which was dry and powdery—it was loaded in two of the six chambers.
WALTER JEFFERIES . I am a stoker—I live at 25, Durham Road, Plumstead—the prisoner lodged with me there—I have worked with him—I have known him since 1895 as William Karr and as Harry Roberts, but not as William Platel—he has lodged with me on four different occasions—he left without notice—he came back and lodged with me again—I saw him when I called him on the early morning of March 21st—he had been queer—he had a cold, and complained of his head for about a month—he had been better for about a week before the Saturday—I called him between 4.30 and 5 a.m.—I next saw him at breakfast on the Sunday morning about nine—he had a latch key and could come in at any hour—on the Sunday morning he looked as if he had been drinking heavily—I spent a good part of Sunday with him—I parted from him at Deptford about 9.30 a.m.—he told me he was going to look for work up
the road, and that he would not come back that night—I did not see him again till he was in custody, or hear from him—this hat is similar to the one he wore—he did not stay long in one situation, he was constantly changing—I did not know on the Sunday that he-had lost his hat.
Cross-examined. He was ordinarily an inoffensive kind of man—he said he had an awful headache—he would not stop in any situation—he was restless.
ESTHER GIBBONS . I live at Ashley Terrace, Rainham—on April 2nd, the prisoner came and took lodgings with me in the name of William Austin—he said that he was going to work at a fish factory at Rainham, and that he had been living at Stepney—he was at my place a fortnight—part of the time he went out to work—on Thursday, April 16th, his father brought something in a bag—the prisoner paid what was due, and the two went away together—he said he would be back on Saturday night or Sunday—when he came he wore a dark suit and a cap like this—when he had gone I found he had left behind him two coats, two waist coats, a pair of trousers, a cap, and his boots—I saw the trousers at the police court—he bought them when he was with me—he took the trousers away that he had when he came—these are some of the clothes he left behind—I believe he had this coat when he came.
Cross-examined. He behaved very well with me, I had nothing to complain of—he did not have this coat when he came, he went away in it—I saw the father when he came—he had a talk with the prisoner in my front room—I did not see the change of clothes going on—I left the same morning that the father came.
FREDERICK FOX . (Police Inspector.) I was instructed to make inquiries on April 18th, and on April 23rd I went to Liverpool upon information and a description of the prisoner given to me—I saw the prisoner in Castle Street, near the pier, on the road to the landing stage—I said, "I am Chief Inspector Fox from Scotland Yard; your name is William Platel, otherwise Roberts and Karr"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I shall arrest you for shooting Police Constable Cooper at Charlton Road, Blackheath, on the 21st ult., with intent to murder him, and further with shooting a man named Booker the same night"—he said, "I had been drinking; I saw a revolver in the woman's shop in Church Street; I went in to buy it; she saw I was the worse for drink and refused to serve me; I then went across the road to a pawnbroker's, and bought the one I did it with: I am very sorry for the dead man and his children"—he was carrying this brown leather portmanteau; it contained a change of linen, and a pair of dark grey trousers which he is now wearing—in his pocket he had 8s. in silver—he was dressed in this dark grey Norfolk jacket, a pair of knickers and a white sweater, and that sort of thing—I arrested him—I had been en duty thirty hours, so I asked the Liverpool police to detain him, and they did so from between 2 and 3 p.m. till about 7 p.m. at the Bridewell, Liverpool—about 7 p.m. I was called—I saw him in the cell—he was handcuffed and in charge of the officials there, but he kept calling out, "Where is George?" as I entered the cell, and he glared very much—I made some inquiries afterwards and left—his face was swollen, and there were scratches
on his nose, under his ear, and on his left hand—a broken glass vase was shown to me, and a statement was made about it—the scratches could have been made by it—the next morning, when he was brought out of the cell to be handed over to me, he was still glaring and saying, "Where is George?" repeating it time after time—I said, "Now, Bill, stop your nonsense," and to attract his attention, as he seemed to be looking past me, I stroked him on the side of his face, as one would a child, and said, "Come, we must be getting on, or we shall lose the train"—I took him to the railway station—he improved at once, but he did not get quite right till after the train had started from Liverpool, but after that he appeared perfectly right—on the way in the train he said, "When I get over this I will never touch a drop of drink, it was all through the drink I did it. If you inquire you will find a tall publican on the right-hand side in Croom's Hill, or some other hill out on Blackheath, who refused to serve me"—we cannot find it, and Croom's Hill is a mile and a-half from where he was refused to be served—he said, "I saw in the papers that I wanted to shoot Inspector Hocking and Sergeant Rous; I do know Sergeant Hocking, but I never spoke to him, nor he to me, and I have no feeling against him or any other police officer; I do not know Rous, nor do I know Cooper," that is the injured constable—when we got to London he was allowed to select any position he liked in a row of thirteen', and he was picked out by nine of the witnesses—then he was charged with the attempt to murder Cooper and with the murder of Booker—he made no answer—Mrs. Jennings spoke to him without hesitation, but said that his moustache had been shaved off since—Brown, the barmaid, failed to pick him out, but the others picked him out without hesitation—we had his old clothes from Rainham, and he was requested to put them on.
Cross-examined. On April 22nd the prisoner's father told me where he was—I went to Liverpool by the midnight train on April 22nd in consequence of what a servant said on April 18th—the prisoner had moved from the address given, but through the father's information we were able to find him—we had to find the father first—he occupies a highly respectable position—when I was sent for to the Bridewell, Liverpool, the prisoner was handcuffed by the officials in consequence of his condition—he was not provided with any alcohol—he seemed to be under the delusion that someone was following him—I have read the doctors' reports of his condition—from inquiries I find that a near relative of his was hanged for the wilful murder of a woman, and that Rose Allen, an aunt on his mother's side, has been confined in an asylum at Exeter about twenty years.
GEORGE WINTON . (Police Sergeant R.) I produce a correct plan, drawn to scale, of this part of Charlton—the distance from Littlecombe House in the Charlton Road to Marlborough Lane and Cherry Orchard Lane is about 400 yards—on March 22nd I joined in searching the neighbourhood—I found in the Charlton Road, between the Royal Standard public-house and Littlecombe, this revolver cartridge—I produce the clothes handed to me by Mrs. Gibbons—I showed them to the prisoner at Blackhealth
Station on April 24th—he said, "That is my coat and vest and hat"—he put them on and they fitted.
Evidence for the Defence.
RICHARD KARR . I am the prisoner's father—he will be 27 in October—he has not lived at home for nearly eight years—I gave him a good education and intended him to become a chemist—I do not know that he tried to pass any examination—he never brought home prizes from school, nor showed any great brilliancy—he was apprenticed to Mr. Griffiths, a chemist at Folkestone, and was with him two or three years—we had to come to London, and his indentures were cancelled—he then became an assistant to a chemist at Westcombe Park—he remained not more than a year—I think he did not like the occupation—he was very restless—he was away' seven or eight days before we knew where he was, then we heard from him from Newcastle—as a chemist he went in the name of Karr, but afterwards tried to keep my name out of it as much as possible—he went on board a steamer at Newcastle as cabin boy; he was then about 19; and then to some of the places furnished-in the list to Dr. Scott, including the Kent Waterworks, stoking for two years—we lost sight of him for about seven months at a time—he earned his own living—he was dismissed once owing to a fireman letting the fire bars burn—He was never in any criminal trouble—he never told me of his troubles—I have heard recently that he had been in an accident—on March 15th I came home in evening dress and found him there, when he complained of my not having told him I was going to the People's Palace, and that he had missed my name in the newspaper—he had a fit, and had to stay till 4 a.m. on a couch—he became insensible, stretched himself out, and clutched at the clothes as if he was in great pain and hot water bottles were put on his stomach—in April I received a pencil note from him asking for money—I never denied him money or clothing—he gave me an address at Rainham, and I took a suit-of clothes to him—I have done that before—he has had seven of my overcoats—I brought him from Rainham to an hotel in London—I was ignorant of the shooting having happened—I had to do the business arrangement for him—he was very strange, staring about, and he told me he had been walking about on the river embankment three or four weeks—I arranged for a bath and a bedroom, and had supper with him, and arranged to call the next morning—I called and took him to Liverpool, and placed him with an expolice court missionary whom we have known, and who knew him from boyhood, saying that I wished him looked after, and that he was not to do any work, but walk about in the parks as he fancied—I returned from Liverpool on Friday night and reached home on Saturday—I saw Winton and Cleveland, and afterwards Inspector Fox on the Wednesday—he asked me where the boy was in Liverpool—I sent a message to him that he was to submit quietly, offer no violence or resistance, and on those conditions I would do the best I could for him—I met them at the station—I have always believed I had a brother about twelve years older who committed an offence but the matter has been kept from me—my wife.
has a cousin in an asylum near Exeter—my wife is delicate, she has a weak heart—my father and mother were not strong in intellect—I thank Inspector Fox and the officials generally for their consideration.
ELIZABETH HARPER . I live in Robin Road, Belvedere—I am the wife of Thomas Harper, a porter at the Woolwich Arsenal Railway Station—in October, 1900, the prisoner, as William Karr, took lodgings with me—he seemed a quiet, inoffensive man for the first few weeks—he then changed—his demeanour became unaccountable, I thought he was not in his right senses—he left about the end of August or September—he had peculiar faints or fits; I could not stand it when they became so frequent—they began by his looking very white, his eyes rolling, and his clutching at things—the first fit I was not at home, I saw the second—I took him to Dr. Greenaway—in July he had five or six more fits—he looked very sadly, and would go in the garden to recover, sometimes falling in a faint—he seemed relieved after bleeding at the nose, but his dreadful laughter you have no idea of—on August Bank Holiday, 1901, he had a fit—he had been out with my daughter, and I have no reason to think he had had any drink—he said he had seen somebody who was after him—I told him it was nonsense—he said he had met an inspector in the Park Road, and asked me to let him get over the back to escape—he rushed upstairs, then I could hear the horrible laughter, and he was very bad—in consequence of that I told him to go, and that he could no longer pay attention to my daughter—he went away—he returned, in October or November, 1902—he was very much against giving my daughter up—I knew him as Henry Roberts—he handed me a razor, and, under the circumstances, I took charge of it—I told him to go—he stayed that time a month or five weeks—I think he felt very much having to give up my daughter—she is 21 this month—he told me he had been in the Army and had deserted, but I did not believe it.
ALEXANDER GREENAWAY ., M.D. On April 26th the prisoner, as Henry Roberts, was brought to me by Mrs. Harper—on referring to my book I find he had had epileptic fits, relieved after bleeding from the nose—I have had such persons in my house—they show a homicidal tendency—I subsequently heard that he had suffered from sunstroke.
HENRY MAUDSLAY ., M.D., L.R.C.P. I have been consulted by the Treasury, and have examined the prisoner in Brixton Prison—he is quite sane now—in my interview with him his manner was quite collected, his conversation rational, and there was no evidence of any delusion, but there is a want of sense of the seriousness of his crime; he has a trick of smiling frequently when speaking of it—I could not get a very clear idea of his mental state before that interview—his replies were chiefly, "I do not remember," "I do not know," "I cannot explain"—he denied that he met Croft on March 21st, or Saul or Birnie, or that he asked about volunteers, or used the expression, "That proves my argument, mate," or that he ever rushed to the back or that he said an inspector was after
him, or that he said to Inspector Fox at Liverpool what Fox has stated—he remembered the afternoon of March 21st, that he was paid at one o'clock, that he went to Bermondsey to seek for a job, that he hired a cycle and rode to Greenwich, calling at many public houses on the way—he could not explain the purchase of the revolver, but he remembered the fact of having bought it—he denied that he had bargained for it, and I think he said "I never did that with anybody"—he remembered none of the circumstances of shooting Booker—he said he did not shoot him—his remark was, "So they say"—he said he jumped the fence into the allotments when he was running from the police, and fell down and went to sleep, he thinks for about two hours, and he said, "When I woke up it all came back to me"—the sleep was probably coma after an epileptic attack—I have read the depositions and Inspector Fox's report—I have formed the opinion that he has inherited an excitable nervous system, which accounts for his erratic, loose, and irregular life, and the number of occupations in which he has been employed, and which predisposed him to an outbreak of a mental nervous disorder—an indulgence in alcoholic liquor would decidedly promote nervous deterioration, and an attack of epilepsy—I do not think he would be conscious of the nature or quality of his act, or discover the difference between right and wrong in what he as doing.
Cross-examined. I believe he had an epileptic attack on March 21st, at any rate that he had the mental disorder which sometimes takes the place of an epileptic attack, and would not be able to distinguish what he was doing—he would be able to go about—I have known a merchant, when the fit has come on, leave his office in the City, make calls, and not recover consciousness till in his house at Denmark Hill—I cannot recollect a similar case to this.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer in H.M. prison, Brixton—I have kept the prisoner under close observation all the time he has been there—I have made a report as to his present mental condition, and his mental condition on March 21st—I have consulted Dr, Maudslay—generally I agree in his conclusions—I saw the prisoner first on April 27th—he was nervous and agitated as to his position, but his conduct and demeanour give one the impression that he does not realise the seriousness of his position—I have also studied the evidence given before the Magistrate and the Coroner—from those and from his family history I think it is very likely that he has inherited a tendency to an excitable mind, which his rough life would aggravate—losing his situations, and the worry about his young lady, and his life generally would increase, the epileptic tendency—that again would be accelerated by indulgence in alcoholic liquor—I cannot recollect a similar case.
Cross-examined. His period of excitement might have culminated after his getting over the fence—I have had great experience of epileptics of all sorts, and they do strange things, but I have no personal experience of a similar case—influenza would have been an additional aggravation—a large number of cases of suicide have followed influenza, but I cannot speak as to murder.
GUILTY. but of unsound mind and not responsible for the act . To he detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
Before Mr. Recorder.
498. JOHN CASAR (35), PLEADED GUILTY . to a burglary in the dwelling house of George Wride Strawson, and stealing a sugar sifter and other articles, his property; also to a burglary in the dwelling house of Stafford Douet, and stealing a teapot and other articles, his property, having been convicted of felony at Guildford on December 10th, 1900 Eight years' penal servitude.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
499. FREDERICK THOMAS HOWSE PLEADED GUILTY . to concealing part of his property to the amount of £1,203 16s. within four months next before the presentation of a bankruptcy petition against him. Six months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE. Prosecuted.
GUILTY. of the attempt . Nine months' hard labour.
MR. CUNDY. Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL. Defended.
HARRY ERNEST WEBSTER . I am a seaman, of West Ashley, near Chichester—on May 5th I came to London from Liverpool—about 5 p.m. I was in the locality of the London Road—I was drinking with a friend in public houses—the prisoner was in a public house—I cannot swear whether he was drinking with me or my friend—my friend left about nine to catch a train—I first met a man unknown to me—that was after six—I was in his company some time—he went out of. a public house, where I was treating him, for about five minutes and brought in the prisoner—after that a third man joined us, and we were together till closing time, 12.30, when we all left together—about fifty yards from the public house I was walking along quite unconcerned, when I was pinned from behind by someone and knocked down in the road, and on getting up I recognised the prisoner as one of three men who were leaving me—he was close to me—I saw a postman across the road—I told him what had happened, and then a policeman came, and the three of us gave chase—the three men ran up a bye-street, and apparently the prisoner could not run very fast, and he
stopped and walked back as if nothing had occurred, and-we caught him a little way up the bye-street—I recognised him at once as one of the three men who took part in it, and charged him—before I was knocked down I had just changed £1, and I had spent about 9d. of that, and I had 10s. as well as the £1, and a railway ticket—all the money and the ticket were taken—the money was in my ticket pocket—the 10s. was in silver.
Cross-examined. I began drinking at 3.30, when I arrived from Liverpool—we had a little drink coming up in the train—we had not time for any before we started—I did not always drink intoxicating liquor between 3.30 and 9—I had lemonade most of the time—I was not quite sober—I had had a little too much—I was not drunk at 12.30—I had had no spirits—I said before the Magistrate on the first hearing, "I saw the prisoner about 5 p.m., I believe, and we were together till closing time"—I might have said on the remand, "Another man brought the prisoner in about 7 p.m. or after 7," but I cannot swear to the time—I cannot swear now whether the prisoner was with me and my friend—my friend left about 9 nine o'clock—I am quite certain—I will not swear I saw the prisoner before nine—my friend said he was going to catch a train that he thought left something after nine—he did not know the time—I said before the Magistrate, I did not know whether he left before or after nine—I said before the Magistrate, "I left the first public house about 6.20, and went—to another, and was drinking there close on an hour when the prisoner came"—I cannot swear to the time he came—after I was robbed the three men went round a corner after I spoke to the postman—they went up a turning out of the Borough Road—for a time they were out of my sight—I ran very fast after them—I saw a man stop, turn back, and walk towards me—I think I mentioned that once at the police court—I said, "I gave chase, and the prisoner was caught"—I cannot swear whether I was in the road or on the pavement when I saw the three men running and one stopped and turned back—the postman was right in a line with the street that they ran up—I have not looked at the place since—London Road runs away from the obelisk, and the Borough Road is by the side of it—I was robbed about fifty yards down London Road, outside a public house—the men ran up a bye-street from London Road, before they got to the corner in front of the obelisk—the policeman was fifty yards from me when I sung out—I saw the prisoner caught—he was then walking towards us—I cannot swear if he was walking towards the obelisk—when he was stopped he said at once, "What is the matter?" and when he was told he said, "I know nothing of it; I have just left my friends over the road"—I said at the police court, "This man had been in my company from five o'clock "; and I heard him call two witnesses who had been with him that evening, who said he was not there.
By the COURT. 29s. 3d. and my railway ticket were taken—I had a few shillings in my trousers' pocket, and those—were not taken.
WILLIAM CHARLES VICKERS . About 12.45 a.m., on May 6th, I was in the London Road, and saw three men handling the posecutor—I was on the same side of the road one or two yards behind them—I thought the prosecutor had been drinking and was a friend of the other persons,—who
were trying to gat him away—two of the men caught hold of the prosecutor's arms and pinned them behind him, and another man was behind him—they threw him into the road—he halloaed, and came up to me and asked me to assist him—I called a constable, who was about fifty yards away, and we gave chase after the men who were all walking away down the London Road towards St. George's Circus, as if nothing had occurred—we got very close up to them—they saw we were running, and they started running towards St. George's Circus—I was in front of the prosecutor and constable on the opposite side of the road to them, and about level with the three men when they turned the corner into the road between St. George's Circus and Borough Road—I saw the prisoner turn back and walk along London Road towards the Elephant—I said to the constable, "That is one of them," and he arrested the prisoner—the other two men took the first turning on the right in the Borough Road—another constable came up and made chase after them, but he did not catch any of them—I went over the road and asked the prosecutor if the prisoner was one of the men—he said "Yes"—I should say the prisoner and the prosecutor had been drinking.
Cross-examined. I should say the prisoner had been drinking intoxicating drinks—neither the prisoner nor the prosecutor were drunk—I did not say before the Magistrate that the prisoner was drunk—I said, "The prosecutor was drunk and covered with mud; he was not very drunk"—I asked the prosecutor if the prisoner was one of them because the prisoner asked, "What have I done?"—I asked the prosecutor if he was one of them after the policeman seized the prisoner—I told the policeman he was one of them before asking the prosecutor whether he was—the Duke of Clarence public-house is at the corner of the Borough Road—I do not know if any of its doors open into the Borough Road—there were very few other people about the Circus at the time—I heard the policeman say there were a great number about—the men kept straight down to the Circus from where the robbery took place—they were about eighty yards from the Circus before they began to run—I was then about twenty yards behind them—I was level with them when they got to the Circus—they had gone faster than I had, but I caught them at the Circus—I was on the Indigent Blind School side of the Circus, on 'the left-hand side of the London Road—I could see a good distance down the Borough Road from the school building—I was the width of the London Road from the prisoner when he turned round and came into the London Road back towards the Circus—he got about three yards before he got to the policeman.
GEORGE LEWINGTON . (182 L.) At 12.40 a.m. on May 6th I was on duty in the London Road—the prosecutor came to me and said he had been assaulted, and pointed out three men who were walking along the London Road—I ran after them—they looked round and saw me running after them, and ran" away—I was close to the houses on the same side of the road as they were—they turned into the Borough Road—I lost sight of them—I next met the prisoner coming from the Borough Road into London Road, about five yards from the London Road—I stopped him
—he said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "A man is going to give you into custody for assaulting him"—he said, "I don't know anything about it; I left my friend over the road just now"—I took him to the station and charged him—he said in answer, "I do not know anything of it"—I found on him 4s.—he and the prosecutor had been drinking heavily—the prosecutor first charged the prisoner with assault; he charged him with the robbery after he had been to the station.
Cross-examined. I was about fifty yards down the London Road when the prosecutor complained to me—I was about thirty yards from the three men when they began to run—before they got to the Circus we were going about the same pace, so they were about thirty yards from me when they got there—they turned round the top of London Road and got out of sight, and were out of my sight while I ran thirty yards—when they went round the corner a postman was in front of me on the opposite side of the road, and no distance from them—he was a quicker runner than I am—the Duke of Clarence public-house is at the corner between the London Road and the Borough Road—when I met the prisoner he was just by the Duke of Clarence—there are doors from the Duke of Clarence into the Borough Road—at the station the prosecutor said that the prisoner had been with him since five o'clock—the prisoner at once denied that and he gave me the name and address of Hurley as having been in his company—next morning Hurley was called as a witness at the police court—the case was remanded, and at the next hearing Frank Evans was called—the next morning the prisoner told me he had just left Hurley when I arrested him—the prisoner did not say that Hurley was the man he had just left over the road—the prisoner never gave me Evans's name and address—another officer made inquiries about Hurley and Evans—the prisoner did not tell the police that the man he was with at quarter to one, just before he was arrested, was Benjamin, whose name he did not know—the prisoner was released on bail on the second hearing. The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he lived close to St. George's Circus; that on the evening of the 5th of May he left his work at the "Evening News" office about 7.30 with Hurley, and was at the Feathers with him till eight, and afterwards with him and Evans in a public-house in Furnival Street till 10.30; that he spent another hour with Hurley, whom he left at the Obelisk; that at 11.30 he went into the Duke of Clarence, that Benjamin came in and they left together at 12.30, and went down a turning towards the Borough, and after talking for a few minutes they parted, and he was on his way home when the policeman stopped him, and that it was quite untrue to say that he had assisted in robbing the prosecutor, whom he had never seen until he was stopped by the policeman.
Evidence for the defence.
WILLIAM HURLEY . I am a printer's assistant, of 92, Westminster Bridge Road—I have worked now at the "Evening News" office about eleven months; but I have worked there on and off for years—the prisoner has been there about eleven months—on the evening of May 5th I left off work before him and waited for him in the Feathers, at the corner of
Temple Lane—I was with him till 11.10, when I left him at the Obelisk to go home—he had not been out of my sight for any appreciable time—he could not have been drinking with the prosecutor during that time—next morning a policeman came to me and in consequence I went to the police court and gave evidence.
FRANK EVANS . I live at 6, Greystoke Place, Fetter Lane, and am a printer at the "Sun" office—on May 5th I left off work at 6.45, and saw the prisoner with Hurley in Fetter Lane at 8.30—I was with them till 10.30, when I left them outside Peele's Hotel, Fleet Street—the prisoner was not drinking with anybody else during that period.
JOSEPH BENJAMIN . I live at 112, Southwark Bridge Road, and am a cane sorter, employed by Mr. Skinner, 185, High Street, Shadwell—on last Friday I saw the prisoner at where the omnibuses stand at St. George's Road, and asked him how he was getting on—he said, "I am out on bail"—he called my attention to the Tuesday evening when I was with him—I had been with him in the Duke of Clarence from 11.30 to 12.30—then we crossed to the urinal, and finding it closed we went over towards Southwark Library—there we stood talking and arguing whether the electric trams would answer or not, and then I said I was going home, and bade him good night, and left him in the Borough Road by the Library—his way home would be up Borough Road towards the Circus—I should say we were together for twelve minutes after the public-houses closed, talking and arguing.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner well—I am not particularly a great friend—I have only known him a few years—I meet him frequently—I do not know his address—he had had enough to drink on this night; the same as I had had myself.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JUN 22ND, 1903.