CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TENTH SESSION, HELD JULY 20TH, 1903.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER.
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED. 119, CHANCERY LANE.
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On the King's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, July 20th, 1903, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. SIR MARCUS SAMUEL , Knight, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir JOHN COMPTON LAWARNCE, one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Bart.; Sir DAVID EVANS , K.C.M.G.; and Lieut.-Colonel Sir HORATIO DAVIES , K.C.M.G., M.P.; Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knight, K.C., Recorder of the said City; JOHN POUND , Esq., FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., and THOMAS BOOR CROSBY, Esq., M.D., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; 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. TENTH 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, July 20th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. NICHOLSON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK BADENOCH .I am an engineer—on June 11th, about 11 p.m., I was by the side of the Regent's Canal for the purpose of easing myself I was suddenly surrounded by three men—two of them seized my arms, one put his hand into this pocket, and another put his hand into this one and took my money out I kicked out I was kicked on the knee-cap—I shouted, and a constable came up—the prisoner, who was one of the men, jumped into the Canal—I do not know if he was one of the men who had put his hands into my pockets—he asked the constable to help him out, which he did.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were one of the men who had their hands in my pockets we never lost sight of you.
HENRY DANIELS (537 Y.) On June 26th I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Thornhill Bridge Place—I heard cries of "help" coming from the Regent's Canal I jumped over the railings on to the towing path, and I saw the prisoner and two other men attempting to pick the prosecutor's pocket—I pursued them—the prisoner jumped into the Canal—he said, "All right, governor; the game is up; help me out."
Cross-examined. I had seen two persons and you loitering in Muriel Street—I went down Charlotte Street to try and catch you, but you separated.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was by the Canal when three persons ran by him; that he stepped back, as he thought one of them was going to strike him; that he fell into the Canal; that he had not robbed or assaulted the prosecutor, and that if he had done so and wished to escape he could easily have got across the Canal.
GUILTY . He then
to a conviction of felony at this Court on November 21st, 1898. Nine other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT, Monday, July 20th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
(581). And the said JOHNNY HOWARD (14) to committing acts of indecency with the said Andrew Bohrer. He received a good character, and his father undertook to look after him, and entered into recognisances to bring him up for judgment if called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK EDWARDS (419A.) I am stationed in Hyde Park—I was on duty there on July 15th at 3 a.m., and saw the prisoner lying on the grass about 500 yards from the Marble Arch—a little girl was sleeping with him—I turned my light on him—he jumped up, and I asked him what he did there—he said, "I lost my way"—I said, "Whose child is that?"—he said, "Mine"—I asked him whether it was a girl or a boy; he said "A boy"—I took a handkerchief from the child's face, and said, "It is a girl"—he said, "Yes, I made a mistake, it is a girl, it does not belong to me"—I asked him who it belonged to—he said that he did not know—I asked him where he got the child; he said "At King's Cross"—I asked what time; he said at six o'clock the previous night—I took him to the station, and soon afterwards the mother came and identified the child—he was charged at the station with stealing the child, and also with indecently assaulting her.
The Prisoner. All he charged me with was stealing the child.
JANE CHAPMAN . This is my little girl—she is five years old—I live at 8, Wroxham Houses, Cromer Street—on June 14th I went out at 7.30 a.m.—I went out leaving the child in the street in front of the house—my mother was at home—I returned between twelve and one, and missed the child—I found her at the police station in the night—she had no drawers on then—she had her drawers on in the morning.
ERNEST BACCHUS (Police-Sergeant A.) Edwards brought the prisoner into the station charged with stealing the child—I asked him how he came by the child—he said that he met her at King's Cross, and she told him she was going to the Park, and asked him to go with her—I sent for the mother, who identified her—she had a conversation with the child, and I said to the prisoner, "This girl says that you took off her drawers and put your fingers * * *, and that you have the drawers"—he said, "I have not
got her drawers"—I said, "What have you there?" pointing; he then produced the drawers, and the mother identified them—he made no reply to the charge.
Prisoners Defence. I am subject to epileptic fits: she followed me to Hyde Park Corner: I took her home to her mother's, because I knew her: we were not close together, we were thirty yards apart.
GUILTY . Six previous convictions were proved against him, and he had been twice sentenced to seven years' penal servitude. There was another indictment against him for indecently assaulting the child . Three years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
583. JOHN ROSENBERG (32), HARRY COSSINS (31), and HARRY COLLINS (23) PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring to steal certain moneys of John Lyons and Co., Limited . Recommended to mercy by the prosecutors. Two months each in the second division.
584. JASON HODGSON (41) , Obtaining from Frederick George Page and the East London Rubber Company a pair of bicycle tyres and £8 7s., with intent to defraud. Second Count, obtaining from the Dunlop Pneumatic Tyre Company a pair of bicycle tyres and 19s. 10d., with intent to defraud.
FREDERICK GEORGE PAGE . I live at 211, Shoreditch, and am employed by the East London Rubber Company—we sell tyres—on December 9th a man came in and purchased some tyres—this slip (Produced) is signed by me—it is dated December 9th, 1901, which should be 1902, "Received from Merlin and Co., Ltd., by cheque, on account of the East London Rubber Company, £2 3s. 10d."—that was in respect of the tyres—he gave me a cheque for £10 10s.—I gave him the tyres and £8 7s. change—this (Produced) is the cheque—I believed it was a good one.
ERNEST ENGLAND . On December 9th I was salesman to the East London Rubber Company—the prisoner came in for several things—I knew him as a customer—I think a pair of bicycle tyres was among them—I knew him by being employed by the Merlin Cycle Agency at Highgate—he produced this cheque for £10 10s.—he received the tyres and took them away—the cheque is signed by J. A. Watson—I do not know who he is—it is made payable to Mr. J. Hodgson.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I had seen you in the shop before—I should not have asked you where you came from, because I knew—you would not have got credit for the tyres if you had asked for it—it is the custom in our house not to grant any credit on the word of a messenger unless we have a written order—I parted with the tyres and the change under the belief that the cheque was a good one—you have changed other cheques at our place.
HUBERT CAMP . I live at 160, Clerkenwell Road, and am a salesman to the Dunlop Pneumatic Tyre Company—in April the prisoner came late in the evening to our place of business—I had seen him before—he brought this paper (Produced), "One pair of roadster and one pair racing 1 1/2 inch Merlin"—I took that to be the Merlin Cycle Company—I gave him the two pairs of tyres, value £4 7s. 8d.—he gave me this cheque for £5 7s. 6d.—it is made out to J. Hodgson in the name of Thomas W. Roberts—it is endorsed by J. Hodgson—I thought it was a good one—it was passed into the bank—it was returned marked "No account"—I gave him 19s. 10d. change—I saw no more of him—I thought the written order was a genuine one from the Merlin people.
Cross-examined. The Merlin order is not in my writing—it is in the same condition as it was when you brought it.
SIDNEY GREVILLE . I live at 77, Archway Road, and am a cycle agent trading as the Merlin Cycle Agency—this slip of paper signed in the name of Merlin was not written by me or by my authority—some time ago the prisoner worked for me—he ceased to do so about July last—I did not give him an order to buy any tyres in December.
Cross-examined. You did not work for me in November—the writing on the order is somewhat like yours—I cannot swear that it is yours.
ALFRED JOHN BUCK . I am cashier in the London County Bank, High Street, Putney—this cheque F 72295 was presented there for payment about the end of December—we have no customer named Thomas W. Roberts—there was no account to meet it—I returned it—it is from a book issued to Mr. Sillcock, who was the proprietor of the Star and Garter at Putney—he stopped payments on cheques in that book—this other cheque 72297 was also presented at the bank and dishonoured.
JOHN PALFREY (Detective.) On July 7th I arrested the prisoner at Northampton—I said, "Is your name Jason Hodgson?"—he said, "Yes, better known as Jack"—I took it that he meant his name was John—I told him he would be taken to London and charged with two cases of forging and uttering cheques—I showed him a cheque that I had in my possession, and asked him if it was his endorsement—he said it was—I showed him the receipt from the East London Rubber Company—he said, "I got a pair of tyres with another cheque"—I then told him he would be charged with forging and uttering cheques at the Dunlop Company and the East London Rubber Company—he was brought to London—I charged him—he said, "I will tell you all about it"—In reply to the charge at the station he said, "I uttered the cheques and got the things, but I did not know where the cheques came from."
Cross-examined. You did not say "I did not know they were bad"—I wrote down what you said five minutes after you said it.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he met two men in a public-house, who said they wanted some tyres; that they gave him the cheques; that he changed them, got the tyres and the change, which he gave to the men, and charged them 1s. each, profit for himself; and that he did not know that the cheques were forged.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Leicester
on January 3rd, 1900, and two other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
585. EDWARD FOSTER HACKETT PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling £20 0s. 6d. and £4 15s. 3d., and an order for the payment of £33 19s. 11d. received by him on account of a co-partnership between himself and Thomas Arthur Meeking . One month in the second division. —
(586) ISAAC ABRAHAMS (57) , to obtaining goods on credit from Frank Chorlton Lingard, Herman Ludwig Meas and another, and Annie Richardson, without informing them that he was an undischarged bankrupt; also to concealing 1,000 shares in the Colt Gun Carriage Company from the trustee administering his estate, with intent to defraud.Five days' imprisonment; he having made restitution. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. KENT Prosecuted, and MR. TURRELL Defended.
GUILTY . Three days' imprisonment.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted.
CHARLES EAMES (468 H.) On June 23rd, about 10 a.m., I saw Brown in Hanbury Street, Spitalfields, carrying a brown paper parcel—the paper was torn, and I saw a new boot protruding—I stopped him and looked in the parcel, and found three left boots with lasts in them—I asked him where he got them from, and he said he picked them up down the street—I was not satisfied with that, and took him to Commercial Street Police Station—I afterwards received information that a window had been broken at Messrs. Thierry's shop, 7, Eastcheap, and some boots stolen—Brown was then taken to the Minories and charged with the offence.
Cross-examined by Brown. You did not tell me you got the boots from a man down the street.
HENRY PEARSON (Detective Sergeant, City.) On June 23rd, about 11.30 a.m., I went to Commercial Street Police Station, and saw Brown detained—I asked him where he got the boots from that he had in his possession when Eames stopped him, he said, "I had them given to me by some man"—I told him a shop had been broken into by smashing a plate glass window, and the boots were some of the property stolen—he said, "I do not know anything about that"—I told him I should take him to the nearest police station to Eastcheap, where he would be charged with breaking and entering a shop, No. 7, Eastcheap—he was taken to the Minories and charged—in reply, he said, "I do not know anything about the smashing of the window; hill I know is, I had them boots given to me"—I asked him about a pair
of white shoes that were also stolen—he said, "I do not know anything about the white shoes, you had better ask the other blokes about them; "I said, "Who are the other blokes?. he said, "If you go down Brick Lane, you are bound to find them, and if you do not find them there, you might find them down at the docks"—I believe he gave a description of the men to Constable Pryer.
JAMES RIDLER . I am a salesman in the employ of Messrs. Thierry, Limited, trading as Treadwell Brothers, at 7, Eastcheap—I left the shop intact at 7.30 on the evening of the 22nd—at 8.45 a.m. on the 23rd I found the window had been broken, and certain articles missing—these three left boots (Produced) are part of the stock that was stolen, and I identify them as Messrs. Thierry's property—I produce the right boots to each of them.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction for felony at the North London Sessions on August 12th, 1902, and another conviction was proved against him. MCGUIRE then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on October 21 st, 1902, at the North London Sessions of being found in the possession of housebreaking implements by night. BROWN— Twelve months' hard labour. MCGUIRE— Six Months' hard labour.
ANDREW THOMPSON . I am a Norwegian, and a ship's carpenter, and live at the Sailors' Home, Wells Street, E.—about 9.30 p.m., on June 22nd, I was in Gower's Walk—Daniels asked me to have a drink—I said I did not want any drink, and was going home—he then got hold of me by the throat, and held me back while two or three other men went down my pockets—they took 4s., a knife, a key, and some tobacco—my throat is painful now.
Cross-examined by Daniels. I did not tell any woman in Leman Street that I did not want to charge you, but that the police had persuaded me to.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I did say at the police station that the two prisoners had nothing to do with it—I was confused then, and hardly knew what I was talking about.
ARTHUR PALMER . I am a labourer, of 32, Jamaica Street—about 9.50 p.m., on June 22nd, I was in Gower's Walk—I saw the prosecutor on the ground, and Daniels leaning over him—he appeared to be robbing him—Marks and three other men were standing close round—I raised an alarm, and Detective Cornish came up—the prisoners and the other men then ran away in different directions—I followed Daniels—he ran 20 or 30 yards before being stopped by Cornish—I never lost sight of him.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Marks was standing by at the time of the robbery; I cannot say whether he took any part in it.
DAVID GOLDSTEIN . I am 11 years old, and live at 52, Gower's Walk—I was in the Walk about 10 to 10 on June 22nd—I saw Thompson on the ground and Daniels on top of him—Marks and three or four other men
were standing round—I called out, and a private policeman came up—the men then ran away—I saw the private policeman catch Daniels—I did not lose sight of him.
GEORGE CORNISH (Detective Sergeant H.) About 9.50 p.m., on June 22nd, I was in Gower's Walk—I saw Daniels walking arm in arm with the prosecutor, and Marks and two other men were walking close behind—there was suddenly a struggle, and Daniels and the prosecutor fell into the road together—I was some little distance away, and could not see exactly what took place—someone shouted "Police," and the men ran away in various directions—the two prisoners came towards me under cover of a dark wall—I stopped them and said I was a police officer, and asked them what they had been up to—Daniels said, "I was only running after the others; I did not rob the man; it was the others"—Marks said, "I do not know anything about it; "I was making water up against the wall when they done it"—they struggled to get away—while I was holding them, the prosecutor came up and said, "That is two of the men that robbed me"—when assistance came, they were taken to the station—when charged, Daniels said, "All right, "Marks made no reply—I searched them, and found threepence and a knife on Daniels, and 2s. 6d. in silver and 1s. 1d. in bronze on Marks.
Cross-examined by Daniels. I did not ask you at any time if you had been previously convicted, and say that if you had not I would make up a charge against you.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Goldstein did not tell me that Marks was on the opposite side of the road and was not one of the men—I did not hear the prosecutor say to the Inspector at the station, "You two did nothing to me"—he was quite sober.
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Daniels says, "Detective Cornish asked me if I had ever been convicted, and said if I had not he would make a charge against me. They seized Marks first and asked what the charge was, then prosecutor said he had been robbed." Marks says, "I was going towards my aunt's shop, and stopped to make water, when I heard a cry of 'Stop thief,' and found the detective on top of me. I wish the man's wife to give evidence."
Evidence for Daniels.
HARRIET DANIELS . I am the wife of Alexander Daniels—about a week after he was arrested I saw the prosecutor in Leman Street—I had a conversation with him and he said, "It was not the dark man who done it at all, it was a very tall man who done it"—and as I was walking away he said, "A private policeman came behind me, and I said, 'I know who has done it, the black man has done it, give him in charge.' and as the private policeman pressed me to give him in charge I done so."
Cross-examined by MR. THOMAS. The prosecutor denied at the police court having any such conversation with me.
Marks in his defence on oath, said that he had been in the Royal Engineers
and had served in China; that he left the Service on October 24th, 1902, with a pension of 6d. a day; that he was now living with his aunt, and on June 22nd had been sent on an errand by her; that he was making water against the wall in Gower's Walk when he heard a cry of ‘stop thief' and was at once seized by Cornish; that he did not know Daniels, and had nothing whatever to do with the robbery.
Evidence for Marks.
EVI LEVY . I live at 23, Phillip Street—Marks is my nephew—he works for me—on June 22nd I sent him to buy some trimmings—during the time he has been with me he has kept good company and good hours, and I have never heard anything against his character.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMAS. I did not give evidence at the police court.
DANIELS, GUILTY — Eighteen months' hard labour. MARKS— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT—Tuesday, July 21st, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. MAY Prosecuted.
JAMES ADAMS . I am a painter of 125, Rodswell Road, E.—on May 23rd I was in the Cape of Good Hope public house, Limehouse, about 11.45 p.m.—the prisoner spoke to me—I told him I did not wish to have anything to do with him—we were drinking ale—I walked outside—he followed—he talked about being in Q Battery of the Royal Artillery—on the pavement he snatched my watch and chain, value £1—another man knocked me down with a crutch—the chain broke—the prisoner left a little bit of the bar—I got up—the prisoner ran away—the value of the watch and chain is £1—in July I picked the prisoner out from nine other men—I have no doubt about him—when waiting for the Inspector to book the charge 'he said, "I did not knock you down, did I, Sir?"—I said, "No, but you are the man that had my watch and chain."
ALFRED CRUTCHETT (Police Sergeant H.) I had the prisoner in custody when the prosecutor identified him—I asked him if he was satisfied with his position with the men he was put up with—he said, "Yes"—when charged he said to the prosecutor, "Did I strike you, Sir?"—the prosecutor said, "No"—he said, "Thank you."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that his hand teas crippled; that he knew nothing about it; and that the man who struck the prosecutor had been sent to prison for six months.
GUILTY of robbery. (See next case.)
MR. ARNOLD Prosecuted.
ERIC LEIJONHJELM . I am a retired sea captain—I live at 7, West India Dock Road—on June 23rd I was walking down Cable Street, between 4 and 5 p.m.—the prisoner slapped me on the back—I turned round—he grabbed hold of my two arms and held me while six or seven other men robbed me of my watch and chain and about 7s. in money—the value altogether is about £1—I identified him at the police station—I have no doubt he is the man—I do not want him punished.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The detective said, "If that is the man, do not be frightened, touch him."
Re-examined. He did not point him out—I was slow in operation.
JOHN COHEN . I am getting on for ten years old—I live at 138, Cable Street, with my mother—I remember coming out of school in Bett Street on Tuesday, June 23rd, at 4.30 p.m.—I saw the prisoner in Cable Street holding an old gentleman by his arms with both hands, while six or seven others took his money—they ran down Bett Street towards St. George's Street—I picked the prisoner out at the police station from six or seven men in a line—when I was in the waiting room I heard the old gentleman had picked the prisoner out.
Cross-examined. After leaving school at 4.30 I had a little game—my sister called me to come to tea, and when she had called me again and I had got to my house it was 5.15.
ALFRED CRUTCHETT (Police Sergeant H.) I took the prisoner into custody on July 2nd, in Whitechapel Road—he made no reply when charged—the prosecutor and the boy identified him at the station from eight other men—I told him to place himself where he liked, and he said he was perfectly satisfied.
Cross-examined. You had not to stand by a man with a small moustache. (The prisoner was clean shaved).
Re-examined. At the police court the prisoner said to the prosecutor, "I only had my moustache shaven off on the Monday."
The prisoner in his defence on oath, said that he was not there; that he knew nothing about it; and that it was impossible for him to hold the gentleman as he had only two fingers, and a weak wrist.
Witness for the Defence.
MARY ANN GRANT . I am the prisoner's wife—I went to the prosecutor and said, "I am given to understand you charged my husband with robbing you"—he said, "I believe it is him"—I said, "I want to be certain it is my husband, I do not believe he could have done such a thing"—he said, "I think it is him"—I said, "You must not think, because you will send him to prison instant."
GUILTY . Three other convictions were proved against him; and he was stated to be an associate of dangerous thieves. Two years' hard labour on each indictment, to run concurrently.
The Judge here adjourned into the Old Court.
MR. ARNOLD Prosecuted.
JENNY HOOKER . I am a milliner, of 61, Leopold's Buildings, Columbia Road—I am single—on Thursday, July 2nd, about 7.45 p.m., I was walking along the Hackney Road at the top of Cooper's Gardens, wearing a chatelaine bag on my left side—it contained a purse, two keys, and 3 1/4d., value half a crown—a lad with rubber shoes punched me in the side—he struck me—I was stunned—he was the same height as the prisoner, but I cannot swear to him, he was too quick—he dashed down Cooper's Gardens—a young fellow came up and asked me what he had got—I learned afterwards that he was a detective—I went to the police station and saw the prisoner, but could not identify him.
ADA BROWN . I am single and live at 13, Gascoyne Place. Bethnal Green Road—on Thursday, July 2nd, about 7.45 p.m., I was standing at my mother's door—the prisoner ran by—when he had got to the bottom of the passage he halloaed out, "Don't touch me, the police are after me"—he ran to the back where we have an entrance—a few people helped me to get hold of him—he was hiding for about a quarter of an hour—I called a policeman who came and arrested him.
THOMAS HAWKER (420 H.) About 8 p.m. on July 2nd, I received information, and went to 1.3, Gascoyne Place—two women were holding the prisoner against the wall—I said to him that I was told that he had snatched a bag from a lady in the Hackney Road, and had run through 13, Gascoyne Place, to get away—he said, "I never ran through any house"—I saw the prosecutor on the way to the station—on searching the prisoner at the station he handed me 3d., and in his left hand hip pocket I found a farthing—the bag and the purse were brought to the police station subsequently—in reply to the charge he said, "All right."
FREDERICK JOHNSON . I live at 85, Virginia Road—I clean and dust the building, 13. Gascoyne Place—on July 2nd, about 9 p.m., I found the prisoner in Gascoyne Place in one of the w.c.'s with the door open—I reported to the caretaker, who took him into custody—I found these keys—I took them to the police station.
BENJAMIN COOPER (L. and N.W. Detective.) I was in Cooper's Gardens on July 2nd from 6 p.m. till one the next morning—about 8 p.m. I saw the lady near Cooper's Gardens, and the prisoner rush and nearly knock her off the pavement—I went to her and advised her to go to the station—I saw the assault—I was watching a house for the L. & N.W. Railway Company—I ran after the prisoner.
The prisoner said that he had no work except in the hopping season.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Enfield on April 20th, 1903. Three months hard labour.
MR. FITCH and MR. WHITELEY Prosecuted.
gelding till about 12.30 or 12.45 a.m. when I missed them—I gave information to the police—about 7 a.m. I found the cab in Ferdinand Street—it is worth about £60, and the horse and the harness about £15, which I next saw at Walthamstow, where Detective Buckstone took me.
CHARLES ARTHY . I am a baker of 427, High Street, Manor Park—on January 1st the prisoner and two others left with me a horse and set of harness—one of them said he had had a mishap and wanted to put his horse up—the prisoner led the horse into the stable—they went away and did not return—I gave information to the police—I saw Trowbridge take it away.
JAMES BUXTON (Police Sergeant D.) I told the prisoner at Tottenham Police Station on July 8th that I was a police officer, and that he would be charged with stealing a horse and cab from Charlotte Street on the night of December 31st—I said, "You drove the horse to Romford, and from there to Stratford where you left it"—he said, "I will tell you the truth. A man named Muller came to me with the horse with another man about 2 in the morning, and asked me to go for a drive; we all went to Romford and got stopped by the police, and enquiries were made. Afterwards we were allowed to go. We drove the horse to Stratford. It was very tired, and wanted food. We left it at a baker's in the High Street. We had no intention to steal it. We never offered it for sale. Four days after that I found the horse had been stolen."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I met Muller in a public house. He brought me this horse and trap and said, 'Come for a drive. We went to our mews and there another man (Scotch Tom) joined us, and we drove to Romford. Stopped by the police there Muller told them the horse and trap belonged to my brother. They passed us, but the horse got tired, and we put it up at Stratford. We were all drunk."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROOTH and MR. GANZ Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
WILLIAM BEANEY . I am a reservist, and lived at 4, Queen Street, Edgware Road, in the beginning of June, with my brother Alfred with the object of finding employment as a commissionaire—on Sunday, June 21st, about 5 p.m., I was walking towards Brook Green with my brother and Horace Apps—we were going to Shepherd's Bush to get a tram to come to the Edgware Road—as we were crossing the road Apps said, "There is a black man," my brother said, "That is the big wheel," and pointed to it with his stick—as I looked at it I heard someone say, "If you want to f—me, f—me"—then I felt something warm trickling down my neck—I put my hand up, and found I was bleeding—I turned and saw the prisoner running away after he had made another couple of stabs at me—my brother ran after him—I next saw my brother on the ground, and the native over him—I ran and caught him and handed him over to the police—these are the clothes I was wearing (Produced.)—
there is a 5-inch mark in the back of the coat—I became dazed and found myself in a cab being taken to the hospital—I was attended to by Dr. James Baxter.
Cross-examined. This black man attacked the three of us without provocation—Apps did not say "Look at that black f—r"—he said, "There's a nigger"—I did not hear the prisoner say, "Why should you insult me? I go along the street not insulting you or anyone else"—I did not put myself in a fighting attitude—my brother did not take his coat off—the prisoner struck me at the back of my head—I never saw him in the gutter—I did not pull him back from trying to get over the railings—I did not see him down at all—my brother had a cane which was broken.
ALFRED BEANEY . I lived with my brother and was with him and Apps at the time of this occurrence—I was invalided home last year with an Army pension after five years' service—in the Roman Road Apps said, "There's a black man"—I said, "There's the big wheel" and Apps pointed with his stick—my brother said, "Bother the big wheel, let's get home to tea"—the prisoner came up and struck my brother at the back of his head—I noticed blood running down his face—the prisoner ran away—I ran and caught him, he kicked me on my stomach, I hit him across his face with my stick which broke in half—the prisoner ran and stabbed me through my watch and stopped the works when I fell on the ground—that was about 25 yards from where he stabbed my brother in Brook Green Road—I was taken to the doctor's—I became unconscious—I was detained in the West London Hospital 10 days and am still an out patient.
Cross-examined. I gave my evidence after my brother at the police court—I said that the prisoner struck my brother on the left side of his face—it was at the back of his ear, with his right hand—the prisoner did not ask us not to insult him—I did not put myself in a fighting attitude, nor take my coat off: none of us did—I did not see the prisoner in the gutter, nor kick him, nor pull him back from the railings—when he was in custody I said, "Let me get at him."
Re-examined. None of us attacked the prisoner—I was excited.
HORACE APPS . I am a butcher of 21, Loveridge Road, Brondesbury—I was with William and Alfred Beaney in Brook Green—I said, "There's a black man"—Alfred said, "You can see the big wheel"—William said, "F—the big wheel, come home to tea"—the prisoner came up and said, "If you are going to f—me you had better do so," and struck William—I saw William bleeding from his neck—I next saw Alfred in a hansom—we did not attack the prisoner till the blow was struck and he ran away.
Cross-examined. We had just got off the pavement when William was struck from behind—nobody had touched the prisoner then—I did not see the prisoner kicked, nor on the ground—I stood still—I picked up a hat.
prisoner stab William Beaney; Alfred Beaney ran after him—the prisoner ran backwards—I next saw Alfred on the ground.
Cross-examined. I first made a statement the same evening to the Inspector at the police station—the Sergeant wrote it down—the prisoner ran about six yards.
FRANK HAMMOND . (T 252). I arrested the prisoner on June 21st, about 5.20 p.m., at Caithness Road, Hammersmith—William Beaney was about ten yards away on the footpath with another man—the prisoner said, "I did it when they drove me to it"—he handed me this knife.
Cross-examined. The prisoner came up to me of his own accord—Alfred Beaney tried to get at the prisoner—the prisoner was marked on his left ear—he said it was done with a cane—it was bleeding—I picked up a bamboo cane—the knife was shut when it was handed to me—there are two blades and a champagne opener—at the station the prisoner said, "That is what I done it with, the champagne opener"—he was upset, hot and exhausted when he came to me—he said these men had set upon him, kicked him, and knocked him down in the gutter—I saw Alfred's coat off when he was attended by Dr. Sheppard—I had seen the prisoner about 5.10 p.m. standing quietly at the corner of a street and quite sober.
ALFRED BEANY (Re-examined.) My coat was not taken off till I took it off in the hospital—if it was taken off and put on again at the doctor's I must have been unconscious—it might have been torn off in the struggle with the prisoner—it is cut twice through the lining—it is a new coat—there is a cut on the waistcoat.
JAMES MOORHEAD BAXTER . I am a registered medical practitioner, and on the staff at the West Lnodon Hospital—I examined the two Beaneys—William had an incised wound about 5 in. long and an inch deep on the left side of his neck, severing the muscles—there was a good deal of hoemorrhage going on—it could have been done with this champagne opener, but I should think it was more likely done by a sharper instrument like the blade of a knife—William was detained six days—he was under my care till I left the hospital.
—Rush (Police Inspector.) I am stationed at Hammersmith, and was on duty, at the station on June 21st, when the prisoner and the prosecutors were brought in—I went with the Beaneys to the hospital, and returned to the station, where the prisoner made this statement, which I took down: "I was standing at the corner of Rowan Road at 5.15 p.m. Then I walked down Brook Green, and looked at a new building, and was admiring it. I walked slowly back till I got within five or six yards of Rowan Road again. I then stood and looked at some children playing, when all at once my attention was called to three men, one saying to the other,' Look at that black f—.'I says,' Gentlemen, why should you try to insult a gentleman. I try to go along the road without insulting you or anyone else? "With that they came over to me in a fighting attitude, saying, 'Who the b—f—are you; can you do anything? "I says, 'I am a gentleman, I hope.' One said to the other, 'Bill, give him one,' which he immediately set about doing, pulling his coat off at the same time,
but I stepped back. The two men then struck at me, and I kicked one in the stomach. Soon as I did that one struck me in the face with a stick, which broke the stick and knocked me down. One man then kicked me, and the other punched me, and it was then, and not till then, that I drew the knife and cut at them. Signed, Benjamin Curgerpersong. Witness: Arthur Allen, Sergeant T Division, 21st June, 1903."
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries and find the prisoner is of very good character—he is an actor, and is playing Uncle Tom in "Uncle Tom's Cabin."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, repeated his statement to the officer, and added that he only struck out with the knife in all directions in his own defence, as he was one to three and did not know what else to do.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRY MORRIS . I am a van guard, and live at 3, Mapler Buildings, West Kensington—on Sunday, June 21st, I was with Kimmins, another lad, in Caithness Road, Brook Green—Kimmins said, "Look," and I saw a black man on the ground and William and Alfred Beaney jumping on him—when they got into the Mapler Road the black man rushed at them and stabbed them with a knife, and put his knee in William's stomach and ran away towards Shepherd's Bush Road and Brook Green—he tried to get over a rail, and one of the men pulled him back into the gutter on his knees, and I saw Alfred hitting him—then the prisoner got up and stabbed him three or four times with his right hand—he ran away, and was followed by William to the other side of Brook Green—I ran for a policeman—when the policeman came the prisoner gave himself in charge—I saw them go to the station—I gave my name and address to the policeman afterwards—I did not know the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I did not tell Noble that I hoped the prisoner would get off, and that I would write to him for half a "thik'un"—I am a friend of Noble—I was about twice the length of this Court away—I was with Noble and Kimmins.
Re-examined. I came here on subpoena and expect my expenses—nothing has been promised.
HERBERT KIMMINS . I live at 6, Nagborough Buildings, West Kensington—I shall be sixteen next birthday—I am a hairdresser—I was with Morris—I saw the prisoner hit at one of the young fellows and run away—he tried to get over the railings, and one young fellow pulled him back—then I saw the prisoner bring out a knife and swing it about with his hand—he hit both of the Beaneys and ran away—in Caithness Road he gave himself up to a policeman.
Cross-examined. I was taking Morris's photograph—Morris was looking at the camera—Noble was photographing as well—we were in a group together—my face was towards the black man—their backs were towards him—I heard the prisoner cry out.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding under great provocation . Three months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 22nd, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrence.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted and MR. LEYCESTER
BRIDGET MCQUAID . I am the wife of Daniel McQuaid of 6, Kings-wood Road, Fulham—the deceased was my daughter—she was eighteen last April—she worked at a laundry—I have known the prisoner for ten or twelve years—he and the deceased have played together since they were children—for the last four years they have been very much together—on April 10th the prisoner asked me if he could be engaged to the deceased—I said, "Yes, as you make your bed you must He on it; you can have her with the greatest of pleasure"—he was supposed to give her the ring on the following Saturday week, the 18th, which was her birthday—on that day I saw it—I think she was wearing it—the prisoner had shown it to me on the day before—I saw her wearing it afterwards—on Wednesday, July 1st, she came in to dinner as usual—she did not go out again that evening—as a rule she went out every night with the prisoner—next day, Thursday, she came home to dinner and tea, and again at 9.10 p.m.—she took a piece of bread off the table—she went out again, and I saw no more of her until she was lying dead in the Avenue—I saw the ring on that day on her finger—I was called by two boys—I went into Hartopp Avenue—the deceased was lying there covered up all but her feet—I was not allowed to go near.
Cross-examined. They had had two years of courtship—they seemed to be very happy together—she told me that the prisoner was saving up money to buy furniture—he did not give it to her to look after—after the murder I found out that she had given him some of her earnings—I do not know if he put it into the Post Office Savings Bank—I did not know it before—she had said nothing to me about her visiting Scotland—I do not know if there had been a quarrel between them.
Re-examined. The prisoner came to our house nearly every night during the last two years.
DANIEL MCQUAID . I am a labourer, and live with my parents at 6, Kingswood Road, Fulham—the deceased was my sister—I know the prisoner and have worked with him at the same place for seven or eight weeks—I have known him for some years—on July 1st we walked home together from our work—I left him about 8.10 p.m.—as I was leaving him I said, "I suppose you are hurrying home to meet Bridget?"—he said, "No, we have had a row"—I asked him what it was over, and he told me he would not humble to make it up to speak to her again—next day he told me that the quarrel was about her going to Scotland with Louisa Turner, and that he did not care for Louisa's company—he said that he had told her that if she went he would have no more to do with her, and that he had used some foul language towards her—he said that my sister replied, "My mother won't stop me, and I am sure you wont"—I was
working with him on July 2nd—he said he had received a letter the night before from my sister saying that she would return the ring on Friday next, and send her younger sister with it—he said he did not want her to return it but to keep it, and asked me to tell her so—I did not have an opportunity of telling her so—I told her mother—that evening I went to the Salisbury public house with him—he said he did not trouble, that it would not be much, and that he and my sister would be together again before Friday—I parted from him and saw no more of him that evening—I did not notice anything unusual in his manner on that day.
Gross-examined. He seemed as if he wanted to make it up again—he did not seem specially upset—he told me what the bad language was that he had used to my sister—it was not violent.
LOUISA TURNER . I live at 52, Ansell Street, Fulham—I am employed at the Campden Steam Laundry, where the deceased also worked—last Easter I arranged with my sister to pay her a visit at Berwick-on-Tweed on July 17th—it was known at the laundry where I proposed to spend my holiday—I spoke to the deceased about it—the last time was on June 30th.
LOUISA GIBBS . I am the wife of Edmund William Gibbs, of 38, Hartopp Avenue, Fulham—the prisoner is my son—he was twenty-one on July 4th.—on July 2nd he came home about 7.30 p.m., and about 9 p.m. he and I were at the window of a front room on the first floor—I went into the kitchen, leaving the prisoner in the front room—I heard a knock at the front door—I had not seen anybody outside the house when I was in the front room—the prisoner went down to open the front door—I remained up stairs—I went back into the front room—the prisoner and the deceased were there talking together—I went into the kitchen again to light the lamp—I heard a noise down stairs; it seemed like a little bit of scuffling—I went into the front room again as quick as I could—I opened the window—I looked out and saw the prisoner across and on the top of the deceased, who was lying on the ground about six yards from the front door—I screamed out twice, "Tom, Tom; you are killing her"—I did not stop to see what he was doing to her—he was doing something to her neck, but I do not know what—I was frightened—I came down as quickly as I could, and went to the Jubilee police station at Fulham in order to bring help—the prisoner is left-handed—I could not see if he had anything in his hand when I left.
Cross-examined. When the deceased came the prisoner was sitting in the front room—when the prisoner went downstairs, I did not go to the window to see who it was at the door, because I knew—she always came round about that time—when I went into the room they were talking very quietly—until I heard the noise of the scuffling I took no notice—there was no screaming or noise of quarrelling—T could not hear what they were saying—the prisoner is a teetotaler—he has never tasted drink—he is one of twins—when he was at school, a boy threw a piece of state at him and hit him on the head—he was brought home with a bad wound—I had to let him sit on the stairs or in the yard—he has the scar now—he lost his senses—he seemed rather strange afterwards—he was five or six years old then—after that he often went oft in convulsive fits—they used
to send for me at the school—I had to go and bring him home—I do not know how many fits he had in a year—I did not take that notice—I did not have a doctor; the fits were not bad enough, and I am not very well off—some time ago he had a fit and was taken to the Jubilee Hospital—I do not know if it was eighteen months ago—I know one of his mates named McCarthy; I remember him bringing the prisoner home one day—he was very bad for some time and I had to watch him and bathe his face—he came to and lay quiet—when he came home he stared about and groaned to himself—he lay on the bed; his eyes were rolling; I had to keep his hands down; he was waving them about; he always behaved like that when he was in a fit—about twelve months ago he had some clinkers thrown on the back of his neck, and I had to go to the Jubilee Hospital for him—he came home; he was all right when I got there—I heard McCarthy say that he had a fit two or three months ago—the prisoner played football sometimes—I heard of his having a fit on the football field—I cannot remember when that was; it was some time last year—when he had the fits he went off as if he was in a faint; he went off suddenly; he would fall down; I always tried to get him on the bed and hold his hands down and bathe his face—after he had been off a little time he would come to, crying, and then be quite still for a time as though he was dead.
Re-examined. The last fit that I remember was one that I did not see—I only heard of it as having taken place on the football field—McCarthy told me of it—the prisoner was so quiet he would never tell me anything—I did not hear of another "fit after that one—he was very good at his work—he has been working for a number of different people for a long time—he was with Mr. Pickering as errand boy for about 4 1/2. years, from July, 1896, to June, 1900; he was then with Mr. Walker as an engine cleaner from July, 1900, to June, 1901; then with Mr. Bingham from July, 1901. to November, 1901, and then with Mr. Meredith, where he worked up to this time—when he had a fit he would fall down if there was no one there to save him—I never saw any foaming at the mouth—the effect of a fit was that he fell when it was upon him and lay there until he was in some way helped by somebody—I do not know if they were more constant while he was at school than they were lately—he left school in October, 1896—I cannot say how many fits he has had since then—sometimes I have never taken any notice of them.
MATILDA MOORE . I am the wife of William Moore, of 31, Worley Avenue, Fulham—that is close to Hartopp Avenue—my house is not very far from 38, Hartopp Avenue, where Mrs. Gibbs lives—about 9.30 p.m. on July 2nd I was at my gate—I could not see the doorway of 38, Hartopp Avenue from there; I could see as far as the house—I heard a scream; I took no notice of it, thinking it was only children playing—I then saw the prisoner and the deceased struggling together—I heard the deceased say, "I am being murdered," and I saw her fall to the ground—when I first saw them they were on their feet he had one arm round her neck cuddling her: I could not see his other arm, or what he was doing—I ran up; they were then on the ground; he was on top of her—a man named Archer came up and struggled with him—I saw some blood—the prisoner seemed to be in
a fit; he laid there staring and never spoke anything; his eves were so glaring he seemed to be staring so; he was quite still.
Cross-examined. His right arm was under her neck—he looked pale and white almost like a corpse—I thought he was really dead the first time, his eyes were staring straight in front of him and taking no notice of anything—I did not see him get up—my husband came up and made me go away—my house faces right up Hartopp Avenue.
Re-examined. They were not struggling very long before I saw them fall—they moved a little way before they fell.
DAVID ARCHER . I am a labourer, of 22, Hartopp Avenue, Fulham—on July 2nd, about 9.30 p.m., I was standing outside my door—I heard a woman's voice say, "Oh, Tom! oh, Tom!"—I saw the prisoner and his young woman on the ground—I ran up to where they were, which was 15 or 16 yards off—when I got to them the prisoner was on the top, cutting her throat with a knife—I saw the handle of it in his hand—I took hold of the hand which had the knife and tried to take it from him, but I had not got the strength, and I was so nervous I could not do it—a man came up to help me but he went away; then a policeman came up—I do not know if the knife was then in the girl's throat; I did not see it taken out—I did not see the prisoner do anything with the handle of the knife—I did not see it again after I saw it in his hand until I saw it at the police station—I did not see his condition when I got to him—the deceased was bleeding very much from her throat—she did not say anything in my hearing, nor did the prisoner—I do not remember the constable examining the prisoner when he came up; I ran for a doctor—I returned with Dr. Saunders—I do not know if the deceased was alive or dead when I returned.
Cross-examined. The first I heard was the scream, "Oh, Tom! oh, Tom!"—up to that time I heard no noise of quarrelling—I was about six doors away—I do not know if they are even numbers on one side of the road and odd on the other—when I got to the spot they were already on the ground—he was sawing at her throat with the knife and slashing at it—I do not know which hand he had the knife in—I got hold of both his hands—the blade of the knife was sticking in her throat; I tried to tug it out—the prisoner did not resist me in any way—I do not know how the knife was got out of her throat—the prisoner seemed to be drawing it round; I tried to stop him; it seemed to be firmly fixed in her throat—I did not see him throw it on the ground—it all happened in a very short time; from the time I heard the first scream until I went off for the doctor was about five minutes—it took about five minutes to get the doctor—I did not notice what condition the prisoner was in.
HARRY BUCKINGHAM (151 T.) About 9.35 p.m., on July 2nd. I was in Daws Road, Fulham, when a man spoke to me, and I went with him to Hartopp Avenue, where I saw the prisoner and the deceased lying in the centre of the court in a pool of blood—she was lying about six yards or more from the doorway of No. 38—she was lying on her right side, slightly breathing, but did not speak—she had a wound in her throat and her face was covered with blood—the prisoner was lying on his back on
her left side with his right arm under her shoulders—Archer had hold of the prisoner's left arm—I looked at the deceased more than once—when I looked at her the second time the prisoner said, "Let me kiss her"—I found this knife (Produced.) on the deceased's right side, just under her dress—I did not notice it then, but afterwards I saw that the larger blade was broken and gone—the prisoner was dazed; he lay quite still; his face was perfectly white—the first time that he spoke was when he asked me to let him kiss her—I did not allow him to do so; he did not move himself.
Cross-examined. When I got there he was lying like a dead man—he was perfectly white and motionless, his eyes were glaring, and looking straight in front of him, taking no notice of anyone until I went to the deceased the second time—when we got him on his feet he was not dazed, nor when he was at the station—he spoke when we got him to his feet—I do not remember saying before the Coroner, "He was apparently dazed when he was taken to the station"—the knife was already out of the deceased's throat when I got there—the remaining part of the broken blade was open, the small one was closed.
FREDERICK BUTT (737 T.) About 9.35 p.m., on July 2nd, I was called to Hartopp Avenue, where I saw the prisoner and the deceased on the ground—I asked the prisoner if he could get up; he said "Yes"—he got up by himself—I caught hold of his shoulder; he turned round and said, "All right, I will go quietly with you"—I saw Dr. Saunders there—he handed me on the spot a gold ring in a case, a key, and a pencil—Buckingham handed me this knife—I took the-prisoner to the station, where I examined the knife in his presence—part of the blade is broken off—the prisoner saw me looking at it and said, "The other piece is in her throat, I felt it break off"—when I first saw him he was in a dazed condition.
Cross-examined. I got him to the station about 9.50.
WALTER DEW (Inspector T.) About 11 p.m., on July 2nd, I saw the prisoner at the North Fulham police station—I told him I was a police officer, and said that he would be charged with the wilful murder of his sweetheart, Bridget McQuaid, that evening, and that anything he said would be taken down, and might be used in evidence against him—he said, "I quite understand"—he was then charged; the charge was read over to him—he said, "All right"—I went to 38, Hartopp Avenue and examined the door step and the door; I found bloodstains on the step and also on the side of the doorway—the distance from the gateway to where the body was found is 16 ft. 7 in.—the doorway, including the step, is three feet square, and from the front door of No. 38 to the gate of the same house is 7 ft. 10 in.—from the spot where the body was found to where Archer lives is 72 ft—I did not search the prisoner, I searched his room—I found this receipt for the money paid for a ring, it is dated March, 1903, £2 10s. deposit paid 10s. and two other—payments on it.
Cross-examined. I did not get to the station until 11 p.m.—the prisoner then seemed calm.
BASIL STANLEY SAUNDERS . I am a registered medical practitioner of 252, Daws Road, Fulham—about 10.20 on July 2nd I was called to Hartopp Avenue—I. found the deceased lying on her back, her throat and hands
were covered with blood, and a large quantity of blood was on the ground—she was quite dead—I saw that there were wounds on her throat, face, and forehead, upon both hands, and below her left ear, such as could be inflicted with the large blade of this knife—on her left side, as she lay, I found a ring case with a ring in it, a pencil, and a key: I handed them to Butt—I examined the prisoner, who was lying four or five feet from the girl's left side: he appeared to be in a dazed condition, his face was very pale, there was a small superficial cut on his right wrist, which was bleeding slightly, and might have been self inflicted when holding the knife—I made a post mortem examination on the 4th—on the forehead I found a wound 1 in. above the right eyebrow, 2 in. long, and the flesh divided to the bone; under the left ear there were two superficial cuts; on the face there was a wound 7 in. in length, commencing on the bridge of the nose, 3/4 in. from the right eye, and passing obliquely down the face, over the cheek to the jaw, dividing the muscles and the blood vessels; that was a serious wound, it crossed over the lower jaw to the neck, and cut through the muscles and blood vessels of the neck; there was an incised wound on the throat, commencing 3/4 in. above the right margin of the breast bone, meeting the other cut and forming a continuous cut, the windpipe was completely severed; in the wound I found this broken blade of a knife (Produced), the sharp edge was pointing forwards and outwards; there were five wounds on the right hand, three of which were superficial; the other two were deep, they went between the fingers, and were about 3/4 in. in depth; on the left hand there were two wounds, the first finger was almost severed; there was one superficial cut between the first and second finger; the cause of death was due to shock and hoemorrhage in the throat; I have fitted the piece of blade which I found in the throat with the piece which still remains in the hasp of the knife: they fit exactly.
Cross-examined. The knife is an ordinary pen knife—great force must have been used; the prisoner must have used all his strength—there were twelve or thirteen wounds altogether—it must have been a very ferocious attack indeed—there is no necessity for the prisoner to be mad to inflict them, an ordinary person may have inflicted them just the same—if a person was attacked by a madman these are the sort of wounds I should expect to find—when I got up to the prisoner he was lying as though he was dead: he was very pale, his eyes were then closed—if a man was recovering from a fit of an epileptic nature, he would be likely to be pale and to lie still—the recovery may be very sudden and very rapid—the attacks may come on very suddenly and without any warning whatever—the origin of epilepsy is the sudden liberation of nervous energy from the nerve centre in the brain—it is a very obscure disease—a person suffering from it may between the fits have ordinary health, as well as immediately before a fit—a few minutes after a fit he may be back in his normal condition—people in fits of this kind absolutely loose control and consciousness, and sometimes have very Little recollection of it afterwards—the fits may be regular or irregular—there may be an interval of months—a fit after a long interval may be much the same as other fits or it may be worse—sometimes the sole symptom of a fit is mental derangement;
epileptic mania may come on with no symptom except the mania itself—I do not think that is more likely to happen when there has been a long interval—I do not think it would make much difference—twitching of the hands and foaming at the mouth would indicate an epileptic fit, rolling eyes would indicate or be suggestive of an epileptic fit—if a man was tearing at himself and others, that would be quite consistent with epilepsy.
Re-examined. Twitching of the hands, rolling eyes, and foaming at the mouth are leading indications of epilepsy—a man may have a fit without foaming at the mouth; it is not invariable, but it is common to have it—the tongue is very frequently bitten, that is also a leading indication of a fit—I did not notice any signs of it in this case—the patient looses consciousness so as to deprive him of all knowledge of what he is doing or what he was doing whilst the fit lasts, but the loss of consciousness may be only a matter of a few seconds—it is not inconsistent with epilepsy that a man should, while in a fit, cut a woman's throat and leave in it the broken blade of the knife which he had used, and not fully realise that fact; if he had been under the influence of epilepsy at the time he did it it is somewhat extraordinary, but it would be possible—in my opinion the prisoner's condition on this night would not be inconsistent with a minor epileptic attack, that is an attack devoid of some of its leading indications that would render him unconscious for a few moments of what it was that he did—the whole fit might not last more than a minute.
By MR. LEYCESTER. It is possible that the blade of the knife was broken in pulling it out—it was very deeply embedded, and was right behind the spinal column—it is possible that the prisoner was suffering from an epileptic fit, that he may have recovered while pulling out the knife, and may afterwards remember that the blade broke while he was doing so—a man may suffer from epileptic mania without foaming at the mouth or rolling of the eyes; at such a moment a patient is likely to become very violent; in the annals of medical study it is known to have been the frequent cause of violent crime and homicide.
By the COURT. The fit itself may be the first indication of epileptic mania—the prisoner's history would have no effect upon my opinion, if he had fits at school they might gradually get worse, the fits might go on until he got into an epileptic condition—I heard that years ago, while at school, he was subject to fits, but cases may get better and then break out again—I should have expected him to become worse—if a man made a violent attack upon another for purposes of his own that might be likely to bring on an epileptic fit—the fit might be the result of violence and the violence not the result of the fit.
WILLIAM PICKERING . I am a builder of 131, Fulham Road—the prisoner worked for me as an errand boy from July 1st, 1896, to June 29th, 1900: when he left to better himself, he was a very good lad indeed—while with me he never, to my knowledge, suffered from fits or any other ailment—he was constantly at work during the whole of that time, and gave complete satisfaction—he was not different to other boys, except that he was a better one and more industrious.
Cross-examined. He did not live at my house—he only came during
the day, and I did not see much of him then—he was not under my personal notice.
Re-examined. I should know if he was away from work—he may have been away once or twice from some little malady, but nothing of importance.
JAMES WALKER . I am locomotive foreman at the Lilleybridge Works on the District Railway—I remember a boy named Gibbs working under me from July 3rd, 1900, till June 1st, 1901—I do not remember the prisoner—I do not remember Gibbs having any fits—I have nothing recorded against him—he did his work very well indeed—on July 17th, 1900, he had an accident—he had been engine cleaning during the night; he walked past an engine while some hot clinkers were being thrown off, and they found their way on to the man's head, and some fell down his neck, I believe—he was away after that for seven days, when he returned and went on with his work.
Cross-examined. I had a large number of men under me—I do not recollect the prisoner's face; according to my books he was with me for about eleven months—I did not see much of him.
WILLIAM MCGRAY . I am employed by Messrs. Peter Robinson at 256, Regent Street—the prisoner came to work there as a porter from July 1st to October 5th, 1901—he had no fits at all during that time—so far as his outward conduct was concerned it was that of quite an ordinary individual.
JOHN MEREDITH . I am a builder of 42, Moreland Road, Fulham—the prisoner has worked for me as a bricklayer for two years past—he has always behaved himself very well—he was better-than the general class of my employees—I have not seen him in any fits—I have heard that he has had some at home occasionally—he was always very steady at work—I first heard that he had a fit about six months ago.
Cross-examined. I heard of him having had more than one fit—he remained in my service until the night of the occurrence—he was a quiet man—I do not know about his being reserved—he was apprenticed to me and was working for me at a cheaper rate—he did anything that I asked him to do—he was working with me on the morning and afternoon of the day of the murder—I had to rebuke him two or three times; he did not do his work in the usual way; he seemed to be absent-minded, and not to be in his usual form by a long way.
JAMES SCOTT . I am the medical officer at Brixton Prison—on July 3rd the prisoner was received there and has been under my special observation ever since—he has been very quiet and rational in his conduct and conversation—he has appeared nervous about his position, but not more than one would expect under the circumstances—he has shown no indications of insanity while under my observation.
Cross-examined. A man suffering from epilepsy may enjoy perfect health between the attacks, and there may be no symptoms that he is suffering from anything of the kind—I know Dr. Luff's book on forensic medicine—epileptic mania may occur in individuals who have never been known to have had a convulsive attack—a man may have an attack of
epileptic mania without any symptoms of an epileptic fit—there may be a fit without a convulsive attack—the only symptom may be the mental derangement—it may produce very violent conduct and may give rise to homicidal acts—there may be no recollection of the acts done or recollection may come back in a confused way; cases are recorded where immediately after recovery there is some recollection and then gradually a man may lose all recollection—I have not come across such a case—there is generally marked pallor at the commencement of epilepsy—it may last only a few seconds, then the colour returns—I should not look for marked pallor during the recovery; there may be paleness—during the attack the eyes are very often drawn up so that only the pupils are seen and not the whites at all—during recovery the pupils may be fixed and staring; generally the muscular tension is relaxed, and there is not much staring, but I cannot say it is inconsistent—many people have had epileptic fits in their youth and then pass out of them; sometimes there is a long interval; and then it comes on again; the intervals are very irregular, the attacks may come on suddenly as badly as ever they were—a man may have mental derangement only, but as a rule they generally develop epilepsy; there have been cases in which a man has had epileptic mania who has never had an epileptic fit; but one cannot be certain in such cases; there would be nothing to indicate epilepsy; it would only be a suspicion; it might be epilepsy of a motiveless character—in the intervals between the fits some patients are gloomy and morose, but there is a great variety; in some severe epileptic cases the patient becomes very melancholy—sometimes there may be a peculiar sensation in one arm or leg when a fit is coming on, otherwise there is no warning.
Re-examined. The warning is only subjective—I have heard no evidence in this case to make me believe that the prisoner suffered from epilepsy at the time he committed this act—the indications of an epileptic fit are biting of the tongue, a glazed eye, and foaming at the mouth.
By the JURY. In an epileptic subject, violent rage might predispose to an attack.
Evidence for the defence.
P. S. G. PROPERT, M.A. I am Vicar of St. Augustine's, Fulham, and have known the prisoner practically all his life—he was a member of my Sunday school—I have seen a great deal of him—I have seen him since he went to work—I know his family very well indeed—when he was under my charge he was a very good boy indeed—he was moody and quiet, but at the same time obedient.
Cross-examined. He left my immediate observation about seven years ago.
WILLIAM CHARLES PRATT . I am head master at the Board School in Lilley Road, Fulham—the prisoner was a scholar there from September, 1893, until October, 1896—he had the character of a very good, attentive and industrious boy—he was somewhat dull—he suffered from fits while at the school—they would last about ten minutes—he had a little foaming at the mouth and would throw his arms and legs about—after a little attention he would come round—he had twitching of the hands—he would come to
quietly, and have almost a look of surprise and apparently not remember what had happened—the fits did not occur at regular intervals, perhaps he would have one once in three weeks, perhaps he would go a month—he continued to have them up to the time he left school—when he was not suffering from a fit he was of a somewhat morose and sullen disposition—he is one of twins; the brother was as bright as this one is dull—the prisoner was under the direct control of his class master, Mr. West.
Cross-examined. I have only seen him occasionally since 1896—he has been constantly at work since he left school—he was not sharp or bright—he was impetuous and somewhat quick tempered—if he was crossed in any way he would soon retaliate and become passionate.
GEORGE SWATE WEST . I am now head master at the Board School at Clarendon Road, Ashborn—I was formerly assistant master at Lilley Road Board School—the prisoner was under my charge from 1893 to 1896—he suffered from fits—I cannot say how often he had them—as far as I can remember when the fits first came on he was very violent, then gradually subsided into a quiet state—he would struggle with his arms; his body and his eyes would twitch, and he had a slight foaming at the mouth—when he recovered he appeared to be in a dazed kind of condition—he was never guilty of any acts of violence except when in a fit—his conduct was very good; he was quieter than the other boys, and I might describe him as of a morose disposition.
Cross-examined. My close observation of him ceased in 1896—the fits were very violent in their character.
Re-examined. I frequently met him in the street up to October, 1901, when I left Fulham—I do not know whether he continued to suffer from fits—I did not hear of it; they were not getting better when he left school.
EDMUND WILLIAM GIBBS . I am the prisoner's twin brother—he has suffered from fits since he had a slate thrown at his head while at school—it made a wound on his head—I should say that was ten years ago—after that he had fits very frequently—when he was in them he used to wave his hands about and his eyes used to roll—he was not to say violent; we only had to hold him down occasionally—he came to, quietly—I remember him having fits after he left school—I think the last he had was on the football field—I was not with him—the last that I remember was six years ago—I was present when he had one when my father was ill—that was four years ago—my father had an abscess on his neck and he showed it to the prisoner, and that sent him off in a fit—I remember him having a fit at the tea table once—that was about six years ago—it came on suddenly; there did not seem to be anything to cause it.
Cross-examined. He had left school about a year when he had that fit—both of us have been living at home—when he went off in a fit his eyes would be rolling and his hands waving about; he would fall to the ground; he would close his eyes after two or three minutes, then he would be motionless until we brought him to—we only waited until he came to—he never had a doctor that I am aware of—he was good tempered—three years ago he threw a cup and saucer at me—he was in a fit then—we were
having a dispute at tea time between ourselves about the food—the cup and saucer hit me on the head—there is a mark there still.
JOHN MCCARTHY . I am a plasterer's apprentice—I am a friend of the prisoner—we used to play at football together—I knew he had fits—I have seen him in them—on October 25th, 1903, he had one on the football field—a chap had his nose broken, and the prisoner came across the field to see who the chap was and no sooner had he seen the chap on the ground with his nose broken than he went off—he had to be helped to the dressing room and was done for the day—I do not remember his having another fit on the football field some time before—I had seen him in fits at other times; once when we described to him how a little girl had been run over in Daws Road; he turned round and fell in the arms of me and a chap named Thomas—he was quite helpless, so we took him home to his mother, a distance of about 150 yards—we had to carry him—his fists were clenched—as we got to the door he seemed to come round—we handed him to Mrs. Gibbs—his eyes were staring—that was-about eighteen month ago—I was coming home on a 'bus once when I saw him being carried along—I asked the chap how he was, and he told me he had had some clinkers thrown on his neck—I do not remember the date of that (July, 1900).
Cross-examined. He was being carried by two others who worked in the engine shed—he was throwing his arms about—when he saw the chap with the broken nose there was a lot of blood about—he came over faint—he walked to the tent but others had to help him—we never saw no more of him after he was taken off the field.
DR. SAUNDERS (Re-examined by MR. LEYCESTER). A slate thrown at a man's head who was predisposed to epilepsy would be likely to make him more subject to epilepsy—if he had never suffered from epilepsy but was only predisposed to it it would be likely to bring it on.
GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth and previous good character
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, July 22nd and 23rd, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
596. SAMUEL GURNEY MASSEY and ALFRED BENNETT HARDING, Unlawfully making, circulating, and publishing certain written statements, knowing them to be false in certain material particulars, they being directors of the London and Suburban Bank, Limited, with intent to induce divers persons to invest their moneys in that Company.
ARTHUR KING FARLOW . I am one of the firm of Martin, Farlow and Company, Accountants, of 4, King Street, Cheapside—they are agents for the landlords of 22, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden—I produce an agreement of April 6th, 1898, between Alfred B. Harding, Esq., Secretary of the English Church and Permanent Building Society, for one room on the third floor at 22, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, at a rent of £25 per
annum, payable quarterly—the tenancy was to commence on March 25th, 1898—I produce a second agreement, dated November 29th, 1898, for first floor offices at the same place at a rent of £60 per annum—the rent was paid up to June, 1902—Mr. Harding remained in possession till November, 1902—he then left owing the rent from June.
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. The company went into liquidation in November.
CHARLES CONOLLY GALLAGHER . I am a clerk in the Joint Stock Registry, Somerset House—I produce the file of the London and Suburban Bank, Limited—the company was first registered on November 18th, 1898, under the name of the London Advance and Deposit Bank, Limited, with a nominal capital of £50,000—the address was 22, Henrietta Street—there has been no change in that address—on March 8th, 1900, the name was changed to the London and Suburban Bank, Limited—the latest return made to Somerset House is dated June 3rd, 1902, which shows that the paid-up capital was £746—the nominal capital remained the same, £50,000.
PHILIP HENRY GEORGE . I am a clerk in the Winding-up Department of the High Court of Justice—I produce the Court file in the winding-up proceedings of the London and Suburban Bank, Limited—the order to wind it up was made on November 25th, 1902.
ELLIOT PHELP . I am clerk to my father, Mr. Charles James Phelp, a printer, of Beulah Road, Walthamstow—acting on instructions, I went to 22, Henrietta Street, on August 8th, 1902, the office of the London and Suburban Bank—I there saw Harding, who introduced me to Massey, who gave me instructions for some printing—this post card (Exhibit 9) was ordered on August 8th and printed from manuscript supplied by the defendants, stating amongst other things, "Fifty per cent, of all customers' balances is invested in Trustee and Colonial Government securities"—the prints were delivered to the defendants at Henrietta Street within seven days—we received another order on August 12th for printing, which was duly delivered (Exhibit 8)—we also got orders to print Exhibit 6 from Mr. Massey at Henrietta Street—that is a circular headed. "Facilities afforded by the London and Suburban Bank, Limited, Head Office, 22, Henrietta Street, City Office, 57 1/2, Old Broad Street," the directors, among others, being "Alfred B. Harding and Samuel Gurney Massey, joint managing directors; Samuel Gurney Massey, manager of the City Office"—the second paragraph states, "Fifty per cent. of the customers balances is invested in Trust and Colonial Government securities '—we delivered 4,000 of these—we also printed 4,000 of Exhibit 7, which states, "Fifty per cent, of the customers' balances invested under the Trustee Act, 1893, and in Colonial Government securities. Yours truly, Samuel Gurney Massey. Manager," and dated from Old Broad Street—we have not been paid for any of this printing—I delivered some printing at Mr. Massey's private address at South Woodford.
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. I have known Harding for some time, and have done business with him—I have always been paid—on the first occasion I mentioned, I first saw Harding, who introduced me to Massey
and Massey gave me the orders and handed me the manuscript from which I printed.
Re-examined. I cannot say whether Harding was present when the order was actually given.
EDWARD JOHN WRIGHT . I am senior partner in the firm of Wright and Cuthbertson, printers, of 9, Fenchurch Buildings, E.C.—I have known Massey ten years, as manager formerly of the Economic Bank—I called on him on August 28th at 57 1/2, Old Broad Street—he gave me an order for some printed stuff—I called again on September 20th and got another order for printing—that was a form for opening current accounts—we printed about 100—we delivered them at the bank in Broad Street—we also printed this circular headed, "Facilities afforded by the London and Suburban Bank (Established 1898), Limited," and the second paragraph stated "Fifty per cent, of the customers' balances is invested in Trust and Colonial Government securities"—we printed about 100—they were delivered at the same place—I have not been paid for the work done—I am the printer of the "Richmond News"—I suggested to Massey that he should put an advertisement of the bank in that paper without charge—he said, "All right"—it appeared once—the paper only ran for about three months—the advertisement was stopped next day by a letter signed S. G. Massey.
Cross-examined by MR. LYNCH. Directly the advertisement appeared we got the letter asking us to stop it; although it was costing them nothing—I have known Mr. Massey for about ten years, and have always known him as a perfectly straightforward man.
SAMUEL STONE . I am a postal clerk in the service of the London Share and Debenture Company, Limited, of 7 and 8, Union Court, Old Broad Street—they undertake the addressing and circulating of advertisements—on August 12th, 1902. we received a memorandum from the London and Suburban Bank, asking us if we could address for the bank 1,000 post cards to names in the streets converging on Covent Garden, Henrietta Street, King Street, etc.—we replied to that letter—we received a second letter of August 14th, 1902, asking us to proceed with the addressing and sending out—the post cards were addressed and sent out—our account came to £2 13s. 2d.—we have been paid.
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. I did not read the post cards sent to us to address.
WILLIAM HENRY SMITH . I am a commercial clerk—from August 25th, 1902, down to the winding-up in November, I was cashier at the City Branch of the London and Suburban Bank—we did business there—I have seen circulars like Exhibit 10 on the counter at the bank, City branch—there would be about forty or fifty on the counter at the time—they were there for the purpose of handing to anyone who came to ask for particulars—there were at one time three clerks at the bank besides myself and latterly two—the post cards produced were sent out to members of the Stock Exchange and to residents in the neighbourhood of South Woodford—I had nothing to do with the sending out—I do not know by whose orders they were sent out—I had nothing to do with Mr. Harding
whilst I was at the bank—I saw him occasionally—I know the circular was used in opening accounts at the bank—accounts were opened at the bank and books were kept—I think about forty or fifty accounts were opened at the City branch.
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. The City branch was under Mr. Massey's management, Mr. Harding had, as far as I am aware nothing to do with the management of that branch.
Cross-examined by MR. LYNCH. I was at the opening of the bank on August 25th, and it was closed by Mr. Massey about November 8th because he had no money in the till; we met customers' cheques while the money lasted; when we had no more money we closed the bank—my salary was £100 a year—I was paid up to the end of October—there were heavy drafts on the City branch by the head office—Mr. Massey once remarked to me that he regretted the fact that this money should be withdrawn from the City branch by the head office—in my opinion the City branch was successful as a branch standing alone—I know that Mr. Massey on the day the bank was closed, refused to open any more accounts—it was a genuine banking business.
Re-examined by MR. MUIR. I do not think any of the success of the branch was due to the circulation of the circulars or post cards—about forty or fifty of the forms on the circulars were used to open accounts—that would be the number of accounts altogether—that was the success of which I spoke.
VICTOR CARTER WEST . I live at Rugby Chambers, Gt. James Street, Bloomsbury, and am a journalist—I have an account at the Economic Bank—Massey was the manager of the bank at one time, and in that way I became acquainted with him—in September, 1902, I met Massey in Bishopsgate Street—he showed me some circulars similar to the ones now produced (Exhibits 11 and 4).—each of them contained the statement, "50 per cent. of the customers' balances invested in trustee securities"—I asked Mr. Massey whether the methods adopted were the same as in the old bank regarding the customers' balances, and he said the same arrangement would be adopted—he asked me to give my account to him as well as accounts of my friends—he said he should like all his old friends to stand by him, that he had only the best men as directors, and they had large head quarters in Covent Garden—I next day opened a petty cash account at the bank for my firm—I paid in various sums, about £187—my balance when the bank stopped was £20 18s. 7d.—after the bank stopped payment I met Mr. Massey—I asked him how the affairs of the bank were proceeding, and he replied that it would be a long-winded affair, because it was in the hands of the Official Receiver, but that ultimately we should receive about 3s. in the £—I asked him how he could account for that if 50 per cent. of the balances had been invested in Trustee and Colonial securities—he replied that the directors had repudiated that resolution—I told him that in my opinion the directors could not rescind such a resolution without notifying us—he said, "Oh, well, that is all right, you will conic out right anyway: I must go, good-bye."
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. I never saw Harding at all—I did not know him.
Cross-examined by MR. LYNCH. I said at the police court that when I met Massey he told me that 50 per cent. of the deposits and balances would be invested—he did not mention, nor did I ask when it would be done.
DAVID GOW . I am a private secretary, and from 1894 to 1897 I had an account at the Economic Bank—Mr. Massey was then the manager—I received this circular with reference to the London and Suburban Bank about last August—it states, "Fifty per cent. of customers' balances is invested in Trust and Colonial Government securities"—I opened an account on October 27th, 1902, at the bank, by a payment in of £24—there was a balance of £17 11s. 10d. when the bank stopped—Massey showed me a copy of a circular with some additional names of directors added to it, which partly inspired confidence in me, as they were titled people.
EDWARD VAUGHAN FOX . I am an examiner in the Department of the Official Receiver in Companies' Windings-up—I had the examination of the books and of the directors of the London and Suburban Bank, Limited, in the winding-up of the Company—I produce the Minute Book of the Company—under date November 21st, 1898, I find a minute by which Alfred B. Harding was appointed a director of the bank—I find a minute of October 31st, 1902, appointing titled directors, Mr. Massey being in the Chair, Mr. Frost and Mr. Harding being the other directors present—under date August 6th, 1902, I find a minute appointing Massey a joint managing director—I find an entry stating that letter cards Nos. 51 and 55 were approved and ordered to be posted.
By the COURT. I found during my examination that there was an investment in 1900 by the Bank in Consols, but that had been sold out long previously to the winding-up—there was no recent investment—I found cards and circulars in the guard book—I spoke to Massey with regard to a post card (Exhibit 9) and asked him whether he remembered being a party to sending it out, and he said it was sent out by Mr. Harding.
Cross-examined by MR. LYNCH. Separate books were kept of each bank—the books were properly kept at the City office—the balance sheet up to March, 1902, showed a profit, the two previous ones showing a loss—the profits consist chiefly of debts due from persons to whom loans had been made; we now know that most of those debts are irrecoverable—Mr. Massey did not come on the scene till August 6th, and it was his proposal that there should be an investment of 50 per cent., and he proposed that the Articles should be amended accordingly—the West End Office were making drafts on the City office—if it had not been for that fact it would have had money to meet its pressing engagements.
Cross-examined by MR. TURRELL. From time to time I have made enquiries of Harding, and have had no difficulty in getting information from him.
By the COURT. My examination showed that so far as the Henrietta Street business was concerned it appeared to be a money-lending concern.
Re-examined. The Broad Street business was described as a branch, and Henrietta Street was the chief office.
CHARLES EDWARD JONES . I live at 73, Endlesham Road, Balham, and was secretary of the London and Suburban Bank, from the registration of the Company up to the winding-up—I was engaged by Mr. Harding on the understanding that it was a purely nominal office—I attended some Board meetings—I received £30 a year—I had another situation at the time—this tenancy agreement is signed by Mr. Harding—Exhibit No. 2 is also signed by him—the letter of August 12th, 1902, is in the writing of Mr. James, a clerk—the minutes of August 12th, 21st, and 22nd, are in Mr. Harding's writing, and signed by him.
ALBERT HAWKINS . (Detective Sergeant.) On June 5th I served a copy of the summons in this case at Mr. Harding's address, Belmont, Rodney Road, Catford—I saw him on the 12th—I asked him if he had received the summons—he said, "Yes, it has been a great worry to me; I have lost the life savings in the concern"—he appeared in response to the summons, and was detained by the Magistrate.
JAMES STOCKLEY (Police Inspector.) On June 8th I served Massey with the summons in this case at his address at Woodford—on reading it he said, "I know, it is all in respect to the statement about the 50 per cent. being invested in Government and Colonial Stock; I was wrong, but it was all a mistake, the customers must have known that it could not have been invested; I am sorry I had anything to do with the concern."
Cross-examined by MR. LYNCH. Attention was called to the words "is invested"; he said that was wrong, it was a mistake.
Harding, in his defence, stated on oath, that he was in the employ of Barday and Co., bankers, for twenty-three years, and left them to found a building society, which went into liquidation at the time of the Liberator frauds; that he promoted the London Advance and Discount Company, which carried on business as a bank; that they then changed its name and continued business down to November 10th: that as they were in want of more capital he was introduced to Massey, who came on the Board on condition that a new Article should be inserted in the Articles of Association stating that at least 50 per cent. of the customers' balances should be invested in high-class securities, but it was never done, as they had no opportunity, and that the failure of the Bank teas due to the pressure brought upon them by the solicitor to the English Church and Permanent Building Society; that they had received money for them and placed it on deposit, and when they pressed for repayment, the money was not immediately obtainable, and action was taken, and that the wording in the circulars as to "50 per cent. is invested" was a mistake, and it was all along intended to be altered.
Massey, in his defence on oath, stated that he was a clerk for twenty-three years in William Deacon's Bank; that he then assisted to start the Economic Bank, and left it to go to South Africa: that he joined the Board of the London and Suburban Bank, Limited, on August 6th. 1902, and made it a condition of joining that 50 per cent. of the deposits should be invested in high-class securities, and that the Articles must be altered; that the post cards and circulars which had been referred to were prepared by him; that it was his
intention that 50 per cent. should be invested, but it was not done, as they were waiting to see what balances would be required, as it was a new business, and they wanted time to carry out their intention.
The prisoners received good characters
NOT GUILTY . The Jury considered that the prisoners deserved censure for the way in which the circulars were issued, to which the Recorder assented.
597. CHARLES TIPPER (27) and ARTHUR B. TIPPER (25), PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of 300 Baltimore and Ohio shares, with intent to defraud. CHARLES TIPPER— Eighteen months' hard labour. ARTHUR B. TIPPER— Twelve months' hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, July 22nd, 23rd, and 24th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUTTON prosecuted; and MR. PURCELL defended.
The police sergeant having left the warrant for the prisoner's arrest at Enfield, there was no proof that the prosecution was commenced within three months of the commission of the alleged offence, therefore the Common Serjeant directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FULTON prosecuted.
GEORGE HENRY GARDINER . I live at 40 Townsend Road, Tottenham, and am manager of the Gipsy Lawn Tennis Club—the prisoner had been in their employ but was discharged two years ago—on June 22nd my father fastened up the pavilion and left at 6.30—some shirts and other things, the property of members of the club, were hanging up—I was called by a constable in the middle of the night and found the door of the refreshment room broken open and a lot of tumblers and glasses had been removed—a small door was damaged and three shirts and a towel considerably burnt—this hasp (Produced) was removed, to enable anybody to get through.
BERTRAM RAINEY (278 N.) On June 27th, about 11.10, I saw a light in the pavilion of the Gipsy Lawn Tennis Club—I went there and found the door open—I went inside, went to the door of the dressing room, and saw the prisoner standing there holding a lighted shirt in his hand—I asked him what he was doing—he said, "All right, policeman, I am doing a bit of burglary"—I asked him to come out and he picked up a knife from the ground and drew it across his throat without touching himself and said, "I had rather do this"—I said, "You will have to come out"—he said, "I meant to have my revenge on them, but you were too good for me"—the articles were still on fire, and one which hung against
the door, was flaming—there was a wooden partition on each side of it—I pulled him to the door and blew my whistle for assistance—he said, going to the station, "I used to work here three years ago, and they gave me the sack"—he was charged and said nothing.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at North London Police Court on May 11th, 1902, of stealing money and shirts in the same building, and was sentenced to six week's hard labour. He had only been out of prison a few days, and was wearing one of the shirts then stolen, and Mr. Gardner stated that the pavilion was burnt down in June 1902 and the prisoner was suspected of setting fire to it. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. MUIR and MR. MURPHY Prosecuted.
OSCAR EDMUND BOLES . Up to lately I was manager to Laird Schober and Company, American boot manufacturers, of Philadelphia, at their offices at 114, Fore Street—we banked at the Capital and Counties Bank next door, and this (Produced) is the cheque book which was current on May 5th—it was the habit to have the cheque book stamped throughout when it came in, and in the space left I signed my name as manager—it was the practice for Miss James, a clerk, to write the body of the cheques—the cheque book was usually kept in the safe—a person who gave the name of Isenman called early this year—he was about thirty-five years old, 5 ft. 10 in. high, slightly built, light complection and hair—I am not sure whether he wore glasses—I should say he was an American by his accent—he inquired for Mr. John Laird and said that he met Mr. Sam Laird and had been instructed to call on Mr. John—they are brothers—I gave him no order at that time—he was alone—On Saturday, May 23rd, I discussed my intention to go travelling on business on Sunday, but on Monday the 25th about four o'clock I went to the office in Fore Street, not having given any intimation of my intention to come—I knew nothing of Isenman's call; I first heard of it on June 2nd—this parcel was shown to me and these two cheques (Exhibits 1 and 2, Dated May 25th and 26th.)—Miss James brought them to me and I pronounced them both to be forgeries—it is a fair imitation of my signature—the alteration from "Order" to "Bearer" is initialled, and the second has my initials also—I find a place in the middle of this cheque book from which the cheques were torn and two other cheques, 4180 and 4187, are missing from it some space before—I communicated with the bank and with the police—I looked at the other two cheques at the same time.
Cross-examined by prisoner. He had a fair complection a light moustache and an Imperial.
ADELINE JAMES . I am a clerk to Laird Schober and Company—this is their cheque book—it was kept in a drawer in my desk—there were used cheques in the drawer, for the purpose of keeping the accounts—I Jo that in the office and any callers can see me at work—the drawer was not kept locked—my usual luncheon hour was twelve to one o'clock—on May 25th I went to luncheon at 12.30. and before I left a gentleman came
in alone about 12 o'clock and asked for Mr. Laird—I told him that Mr. Laird was away and asked him the nature of his business—he said he wanted to see Mr. Laird personally and asked if he was at his house—I said, "Yes"—he went out and returned shortly afterwards—he appeared to be about 35 to 40 years of age and was about 5 ft. 11 in. high, slim, fair, and wore spectacles which fastened behind his ears—he had an American accent—I went out shortly afterwards and saw the gentleman and another man across the road—I had my lunch at a restaurant in Fore Street about twenty yards off—he passed me—I did not see the prisoner at that time—I left Manning the office boy in charge, and he made a statement to me when I got back—the cheque book was in my drawer unlocked when I went out—Monday, June 1st was Bank Holiday, and on Tuesday, June 2nd, I had the cash book and discovered these two cheques which I knew I had never drawn—I then examined the pass book and found that two cheques had been torn out and two more' further on—I cannot account for their being missing—Mr. Boles was out to lunch but I communicated with him at once—I have not seen Isenman since—on Sunday, June 21st, the day before his arrest, I was with Mr. Hart and saw the prisoner and recognised him as he came in—I gave instructions to Mr. Hart and we followed him to the Park gate—Mr. Hart went behind him and came back and spoke to me and we both followed the prisoner to the Manor Gate—Mr. Hart got into a bus and sat directly opposite the prisoner—I saw Mr. Hart in the evening and he made a communication to me—I next saw the prisoner in the dock.
Cross-examined. Anybody could write a letter in the office—I had handled the cheque book last on Saturday, May 30th—I noticed no cheques missing on May 25th—it might have been taken on May 10th—I was not handling the cheque book when Isenman called—he had a red mark on the left side of his face—I did not notice his mouth or anything about his teeth—Willis was a clerk in the office—Mr. Hart knows him—he is about 5 feet 4 high, dark, and about your build—his hair is crisp, black—he wears a short coat—I never saw him in a frock coat and silk hat—I do not think he resembles you—I do not think I could mistake one for the other—I have not actually quarrelled with Willis—I was in the office and found he was away, and wrote to him at 43, Woburn Place—I had nothing against him whatever—I was never at Brixton—I went to Balham with a friend, not Mr. Willis—I have only conversed with Manning on business topics; I have scarcely spoken to him on this matter—I only asked him what had happened when I came back—I forget the colour of Mr. Isenman's hair, but it was fair; I do not know that there was any grey in it.
Re-examined., Willis left, I think, about the beginning of last September—he would be thoroughly acquainted with the practice as to the cheque book, and knew where it was kept—I have not seen him since May 25th—I do not know whether the prisoner was acquainted with him—his hair is black and crisp—he left three or four months ago.
12.30—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—he was with another man taller than himself who was about twenty-five or thirty years old, 5 ft. 10 high, slim, fair, wearing a moustache and spectacles, which came behind his ears—he had an American accent—he asked me if Mr. Laird was in—I replied "No; he is at his house"—Miss James had gone to lunch and I was alone—he then asked for Mr. Boles—I said "No: he is away at Tottenham"—he then asked for a piece of paper and an envelope to write a letter to Mr. Laird—he was then on the right side of the counter and I was behind it—I got the paper and envelope, and he asked me if I had returned the samples—I then put the paper at the end of the table—he came in while the taller man sat at the end of the table—I then went into the sample room with him while the other man remained in the office—the sample room is divided off from the office with glass, but you cannot see through it—the prisoner asked me in the sample room if we had received samples of ladies' boots from America—I said, "No"—I had never heard of the class of boots he mentioned—I was keeping my eyes on the front office, and was going into it when the prisoner called me back—I showed him some boots, and the taller man came into the sample room saying that he was Mr. Sam Laird—that was the first time he gave his name, and he wrote this letter saying that they were going to his house to see him the same evening—the taller man said that if Mr. Laird came during the day I was to tell him that he had sent a letter to say that he was going to see him that evening—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Mr. Boles will be here on Sunday morning, and you can see him"—they said good-day and went away—when the tall man came into the sample room the prisoner had a sample in his hand, which he put down and did not ask for any more—we were about ten minutes in the sample room, and from where I was I could not see the part of the office where the man was—I saw the taller man again on the next Saturday, the Saturday before Whit-Monday, in the North-Western District post office, off Camden Town—I was opening a post office banking account for the first time—it was on May 30th—the taller man was paying in three £5 notes—he gave them to the same young lady who attended to me—she examined them, held them up to the light, and made an observation about them to another lady in the office—I next saw the prisoner on Monday, June 22nd, in Rochester Square, Camden Road—I went there to see if I could recognise anybody, and he came out of his house and passed me, and crossed over to the other side to that on which I was—I ran up to Mr. Murphy, who was just getting off a tram, and pointed him out—Murphy just arrived at the right moment.
Cross-examined. I first heard of the robbery on the Tuesday when I came back, the week after Whit Monday, June 2nd—I say that this happened on May 6th, because he told me he was Mr. Sam Laird, and he happened to come back on that Monday evening—I had no communication with you on the 5th—the door was half open on the 27th—the other half shuts itself—if there was any noise I should not have heard it if I was taking goods out of sample cases—my suspicion were not aroused—I had only had one person come in before—he bought a pair of boots-only
two men called on May 25th—I cannot say how many called on the day previous, but I always stay in the office while Miss James goes out to lunch—I did Dot see or hear anything—the desk was about 4 ft. high, a little taller than this one at which I am standing—I cannot say how the other man was dressed, but you were dressed in brown—I saw you with a dark coat on on two or three remands—if Mr. Isenman was grey at one part and black at the other I should have noticed it—I do not think he was an Irishman, but I cannot tell by looking at a person—I believe he was an American by his speech—I did not notice his feet—the smaller man asked to see the samples, and he was with me in the sample room—he did not go out of my sight—his hair was medium light—Mr. Isenman wore a black suit, with a short jacket—his spectacles looked the colour of gold—his age was 35 or 40—there is no grey about him—I take you for 28 or 30.
HELEN FENTON . I am the wife of Richard Fenton, of 16, Rochester Square, Camden Town—the prisoner came in the name of Boris with his wife, to live with me on April 28th—they had two rooms—after three weeks Mrs. Ashton left, and the prisoner took another room at 4s. 6d. a week—he continued there till Saturday, May 30th—he had a very frequent visitor, who went by the name of Case—he was about 28 years old, 5 ft. 10 in. high, slim, a good figure, fair, and wore a short beard, an Imperial, and a moustache—his hair was black—he wore gold spectacles, and had a broad American accent—the last time he came was on May 30th, about 9 p.m.—he came on foot that morning, but in the evening he came in a cab and took his luggage—they went off together in the cab—he said he was going to the Forest by the Waterloo route—he returned on a Saturday three weeks later, and was arrested on the Monday—he said he did not know where his friend Case was, but he said on the Monday that he was in Bath—while the prisoner was away I received a letter from him from Brussels.
Cross-examined. I saw that Mr. Case had a gold tooth—it was not a tooth with a good deal of stopping in it, it was a gold tooth on the left-hand side—I do not remember making a remark about that—he looked like a German, but he spoke with an American accent—he wore a grey brown suit, and at another time he had a pair of grey trousers on—I never saw him wear a light suit, it was a dark one—I never saw you with a frock coat on or a felt hat—I never said that you spoke like a German Jew—you said you went to Finsbury Park with your wife one Sunday night, and when you were sitting down somebody seemed to be following you, and you thought he was following your wife—Inspector Murphy arrested you in the street—I heard something said in the house about Mr. Brown, but I cannot say what—I think Murphy asked if you knew that name—I do not call Case's hair gingery—he had hair at the side of his face—I do not know what you call a French beard—before May 25th you talked about going in July, and on May 25th, on a Wednesday, I think, you showed me a ticket—I understood that Mrs. Ashton went to the Continent to find her father—you never mentioned your father—Mr. case looked strong—I should call him a stout man, not a slim one—this is the letter from Brussels, and this is the envelope.
Re-examined. Ashley is the name on the letter, but I knew the prisoner as Ashton—it is dated May 26th—he showed me this ticket on a Wednesday, or it may have been a Tuesday, and said, "I ought to have gone to-night."
ANNIE ELIZABETH PALIN . I am manageress to the proprietor of Wilkes' Hotel. St. Stephen's Square, Bayswater—on May 26th a visitor came who gave the name of Charles Isenman; his age was about 36; he was about 6 ft. 8 or 10 in. high; he was of medium bulk, fair, with close cut hair at the side and a beard and moustache—he wore spectacles, and had an American accent—he engaged one room for a week—on Wednesday, May 27th, he brought this cheque for £325 to the office and asked me to take care of it—I put it into my box which is kept in the safe—he said it was rather a large amount to keep upon him—he endorsed it "Charles Isenman" in my presence—on Thursday morning, the 28th, he asked me to pass it through the bank of the hotel—the mistress was away; I said, "I have no banking account of my own, but I will take it to the bank," and Mr. Norwood accepted it—on the following Saturday I went to the bank with Mr. Isenman and signed this cheque (Produced.) for the purpose of getting the other cheque—I left Mr. Isenman and Mr. Norwood together—I do not draw on the hotel account in my own name—I did not see that the money was paid over the counter; I left them together a little after 11 a.m.—I saw Mr. Isenman go out of the hotel about 12 o'clock—he came into the office and said he was going away for a day or two and wished to keep his room on for another week, and paid me £1 18s.—he left soon afterwards and never returned—I had never seen him before—he had luggage, but I do not remember what.
FREDERICK HERBERT NORWOOD . I am clerk at the Bayswater branch of the Union Bank—on May 28th Miss Palin came to me with this cheque for £325, and left it with me for clearance, and on the 30th she attended with Mr. Isenman at 10.30 a.m. for payment—she signed this cheque (Another) and then left, and I paid the £325 to Mr. Isenman—his age was about 35; he was about 5 ft. 8 in. high, but he was leaning over the counter—he was slim, fair, and I think his hair was close cut on each cheek, and a pointed beard and moustache—I forget whether he had spectacles; his accent was American—I took a note of the form in which I paid him—I have extracted it from the counter cash book—it was twenty £5 notes, dated February 27th, 1903, 12701 to 12720, ten £20 notes dated April 14th, 1902, 5475*7 and 73003 to 73011 inclusive, and £25 in gold.
Cross-examined. I never saw you till I saw you at Guildhall.
CLAUDE HENRY JARRATT . I am manager at the Fore Street branch of the Capital and Counties Bank—this cheque for £195 10s. was cashed with me on May 26th, by £185 in notes and £10 10s. in gold; there was a £50 note, No. 81401, of June 15th, 1902, and seventeen £5 notes.
Bank of England—I have here a large number of Bank of England notes which I have been supboenaed to produce.
HENRY CARNE . I am senior cashier in the Issue Department of the Bank of England—I produce extracts from the books—I have examined them, they are perfectly correct—they relate to two transactions—on May 26th a person giving the name and address of Henry Hance, Russell Hotel, W.C., changed this £50 note (Produced) 84406, June 16th, 1902—the name is written on the back of it—on the same day a person giving the same name changed this £5 note, 12020, February 24th, 1903, for silver—the other was for gold—on the same day a person giving the name Charles Isenman changed this £50 note 85880, June 1st, 1902, with "Charles Isenman, 12, Abingdon Road," written on it, but it looks like No. 71, and a person giving the same name changed these eight £5 notes, dated February 24th, 1903, 12018 and 12028 to 12034—they were all changed into gold—these two notes and the writing on this cheque and the endorsement seem to be in the same writing.
HARRY JOHN SYDENHAM . I am a clerk to Thomas Cook and Sons, Tourist Agents, 81, Cheapside—on May 26th I sold this ticket to a person giving the name of Mr. Ashley, 92, Abingdon Road, Kensington—that is my writing; that is part of a through ticket from London to Paris, first-class single; the price was £1 13s. 10d.—I have no record of how it was paid for—we take bank notes and pay them away again, or pay them into our account, at the Temple Bar branch of the London and Westminster Bank, or send them to" our head office—we have an account at the Temple Bar branch of the bank because it is more convenient; it is part of our business to change English money for foreign.
Cross-examined. I do not remember any £5 note being paid to me on that date; there may have been several—I did not sell several tickets for that route—I did not take particular notice of the man, it was a man—I am positive it is my writing.
Re-examined. I wrote it when it was brought to me—I made, a note of it, but not at the time—that is the only ticket I issued from Southampton to Havre that day—there is no rule for the date on which it is to be used; Continental tickets are for thirty days; you can start within thirty days; there is no clip on this ticket, but sometimes they are produced about a minute before the train starts—it ought to be clipped, and it ought to have been collected—it must have come from our Cheapside office.
RICHARD HAROLD DENBY . I am a clerk in the banking department of Thomas Cook and Sons, Ludgate Circus—we receive notes from the Cheapside office—ours is the head office—we bank at the Temple Bar branch of the London and Westminster Bank—I have before me the counterfoil paying-in slip of May 25th in our clearing office—I paid in on that day £400 in notes—I got them from one or other of our offices; they must have been obtained from one of our establishments in London—they might reach our bank the day before or it might be on the 27th—they generally send in the morning what they have taken the evening before—what they send on the 26th would probably be paid in on the 27th.
Cross-examined. These notes may have come from any of our offices in London—it is quite possible they may have been taken at Ludgate Circus.
DAVID SMART . I am a clerk in the Temple Bar branch of the London and Westminster Bank—Thomas Cook and Sons have an account with us—on May 27th they paid in, among other items, £400 in bank notes—these eight £5 notes, 12019 and 12021 to 27, formed part of the £400—this extract is from our bank note sundry book—I have examined it; it is correct.
FREDERICK GOODE . I am an assistant to J. E. Thompson, a pawn-broker, 155, Drummond Street, Hampstead Road—on May 30th, about 2 p.m., the prisoner came there and bought a gold watch and chain and redeemed a suit of clothes—the watch was £2 10s. the chain £1 2s., and 10s. 6 1/2d. for the redemption of the suit, making £4 2s. 6 1/2d.—he paid with a £5 note—the suit was pledged for 10s. in the name of John O'Brien—I knew O'Brien well—I asked the prisoner where O'Brien was, and he told me he was laid up—I next saw the prisoner on June 20th—he then pawned the gold watch and chain which he purchased on May 30th—the following is a description of O'Brien: Age about 35, height 5 ft. 8 in., slim, fair, clean shaven, except for an Imperial beard; he wore glasses, and had a strong American accent—I know Roger Willis, of 43, Woburn Place—I have seen him and O'Brien together at our shop three or four times.
Cross-examined. I do not remember seeing Willis in a frock coat and silk hat—I do not think he is anything like you—I last saw him there on May 27th, when he redeemed pledges to the amount of £23 and bought a diamond ring, for which he paid £7—some of the pledges had been in nearly twelve months—he paid the £30 in gold—he was a regular customer.
HARRY GRIFFITHS SMITH . I am a cashier at the Tottenham Court Road Branch of the London and Westminster Bank, Limited—J. E. Thompson is a customer of ours—on June 4th Mr. Hawkins, his manager, sent these three notes (Produced) to us to be changed; his signature is upon them—Exhibit 5 is an extract from our note register showing the numbers of the notes—one of these notes is 12713, 27th February, 1903.
EDWARD LAIT . I am manager to Allworthy Brothers, pawnbrokers, 15, High Street, Camden Town—on May 30th the prisoner came in and purchased this stud (Produced.) for 14s. 6d.—it has a pin attachment—it is an imitation sapphire and diamond—he paid with a £5 note, which I paid into the bank on June 2nd—that was the only note we had—at Guildhall, on June 24th, I picked out the prisoner from twelve other men.
JOHN ARTHUR HENSHAW LEWIS . I am a clerk at the National Bank, High Street, Camden Town—Allworthy Brothers are customers of ours—I produce an extract from our note register—on June 2nd they paid in three £5 notes; one of them, dated 27th February, 1903, was No. 12715—I also produce the slip with which it was paid in.
on May '50th, about 6.3O p.m., bought twelve £1 postal orders—they would be among the last fourteen sold that day 870992 to 871005—he paid for them in gold—about 3.30 the same day, another man had purchased sixteen £1 postal orders, and paid for them with four £5 notes, dated Febraury 27th, 1903, Nos. 12709-10-11 and 12—at 5 o'clock he came again and purchased six more, and paid for them with two £5 notes, 12701-2, February 27th, 1903—my attention was particularly drawn to these transactions, and I remember holding the notes up and examining the water marks—I saw the man write "Charles Johnson, 20, Prince's Square," on the notes, and the writing on the postal orders is similar—the reference numbers of the postal orders are also on the notes—I stamped each note with the date stamp of the office—the distinguishing letter is E—I wrote this entry in Manning's post office savings book, and stamped it with the same stamp—I am in the habit of comparing hand-writing for the purposes of the savings bank, and in my opinion the "Charles Johnson" on the cheque is similar to the "Charles Johnson" on the note—the man who purchased the twenty-two £1 postal orders was about 35 to 38, 5 ft. 10 in. high, medium build, and fair complexion—I cannot say if he had any hair on his face—I did not notice his accent—he wore spectacles.
Cross-examined. I am positive the other man bought the sixteen postal orders with four £5 notes—I cannot swear that you were the man who bought the twelve postal orders, but I think so—he wore a silk hat.
WILLIAM HAWKINS . I am manager to J. E. Thompson, a pawnbroker, of 155, Drummond Street, Hampstead Road—these are my endorsements on the back of these three notes (Produced)—I think they were paid in on June 2nd—one was taken from the prisoner in the sale department in my presence—the other two were taken across the pledge counter—the money taken in the sale department is kept separate from that taken in the pledge department.
Cross-examined. I know Willis and O'Brien—I have seen them together in my shop on several occasions—Willis was in my shop last on May 27th—he then redeemed pledges to the amount of about £30—he was alone—I think he paid with one £5 note, and the rest in gold—I have never seen you with O'Brien—I cannot see any resemblance between you and Willis—I should know him if I saw him.
Re-examined. I did not deliver Willis's pledges, or handle the money.
ROSINA MILLS . I am barmaid at the Eagle Public House, Camden Road—I know the prisoner as a customer during the last two or three months—Mr. Frank Sullivan is the owner of the house, and he owns two others, I believe—Mr. Sanders is the manager.
EDGAR DANIELS . I am an accountant at the Newgate Street Branch of the London City and Midland Bank—Mr. Frank Sullivan is a customer of ours—Mr. Sanders is his manager—I produce Exhibit 11—on June 2nd, there was a payment in by Sanders to the credit of the account, which included a bank note for £5, No. 12714, dated 27th February, 1903.
which were the proceeds of the two forged cheques, Exhibits 1 and 2—by June 22nd I had traced a good number of them—on the 22nd I received information from Miss James, and in consequence I went to the corner of Rochester Square, Camden Town—there I saw Manning, about 1 p.m.—and after hearing something from him, I followed the prisoner—he went in the direction of Euston Road, and I lost sight of him—at 10 minutes to three I saw him enter the Eagle Public House—after leaving there he went to 16, Rochester Square—at 9.30 I saw him with Mr. and Mrs. Fenton leave the Camden Arms in Randolph Street—I caught hold of him, and told him I was a police officer, and should take him into custody, and that he would be charged with being concerned with another man not in custody in forging and uttering two cheques, one drawn for £195 10s. on May 26th, and the other for £325 on May 28th, both on the Capital and Counties Bank, Fore Street, and both purporting to be signed by 0. E. Boles—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "You have been identified with dealing in part of the proceeds of these forgeries; do you know a man named O'Brien?" he said, "No"—I said, "One of these notes was cashed at Thompson's, the pawnbrokers, a second at Allworthy's, the pawnbrokers, and a third one at the Eagle Public House, Camden Road"—he said, "Yes, I have cashed a note at each of those places, I got them from a fellow countryman, whose name and address I do not know"—I said, "Where is the stud you purchased at Allworthy's?"—he put his fingers into his right hand vest pocket, and handed it to me—when searched at the police station, I found in his possession a diary and a portion of a Cook's first class single ticket from London to Paris—I found a visiting card in a kit bag at his lodgings, with "Mr. Edward Sidney Case, 2, Avenue Friedland "on it—on the back of this bank note is written" 4, Avenue Friedland," and on the back of this one, "2, Avenue Friedland."
Cross-examined. I did not warn you before you made your statements to me—when I arrested you, Mr. Fenton asked me some questions, but what they were I do not remember; I had nothing to do with him.
HARRY BERTRAM HART . I am a bank clerk—I was with Miss James on the afternoon of June 21st, in Finsbury Park—the prisoner and his wife passed us, and at Miss James' request I followed them—when they left the Park, they rode by omnibus to the Brecknock Public House—they then turned up the first turning on the right—the prisoner saw that I was following, and he asked me what I wanted by following him—he said he thought I had been insulting his wife—I said I had no such intention, but wanted his name and address—he said he thought it rather strange, and threatened to put me on my back, but after a little time he gave me his card—it had no address on it, and I said I wanted his address—he then told me I could go with him to his house, and he took me to 16, Rochester Square—he told me he had lived there two years—I then left him.
Cross-examined. I first saw you by the band stand—you were sitting down about 10 yards from us—Miss James asked me to see what boots you had on, and to see if you had an American accent—you were wearing
American boots—when I spoke to you, I asked if you knew a Miss James and a Mr. Willis, and you said "No"—I may have asked if you knew a Mr. Isenman, but I do not remember—I do not think I mentioned the forgery to you, or anything connected with it—I am certain I did not say it was a matter of ten years.
ADELINE JAMES (Re-examined.) I did not notice what boots you wore on May 25th—I do not think I asked Mr. Hart to go and look at your boots—I asked him particularly to notice your voice—I did not hear your voice then.
H. E. MANNING (Re-examined.) I did not notice what boots you wore when you came to the office on May 25th.
Evidence for the defence.
KATE ASHTON . I am the prisoner's wife—on May 25th I was living with my parents at Norwood, and met the prisoner about 9.30 a.m.—at 2.30 p.m. we went to the National Gallery—I was with him till the evening—I remember the 25th, because he went to Paris on the following Saturday to see some relations—while he was away I had several letters from him, and from the tone of them he seemed rather short of money—he was away for three weeks—when he returned he was short of money, and he told me he had pawned some things.
Cross-examined. We have been married eighteen months—Mr. Case is a mining engineer—this is one of his cards, "Mr. Edward Sidney Case, 2, Avenue Friedland"—the writing at the back is my husband's—it is very indistinct, and I cannot read it—I know Mr. Case's writing—I do not think the "Charles Johnson" on these postal orders is his writing—the "Charles Isenman" on these bank notes is more like his—the writing on this cheque is like my husband's—I do not know what the H. J. H. H. E. in this diary means—I am sure May 25th was the day we went to the National Gallery, and the diary bears me out—on May 26th I met him about mid-day and we went to Hyde Park—I have not seen him this week—I saw the extracts from the diary about three weeks ago—while we were living at the Fenton's, Mr. Case called very nearly every day—they were friendly calls—I was not present every time he came—I did not hear any business discussed—I do not know where he lived, we never visited him—I thought my husband was short of money on May 29th by the way he spoke, and he told me he had borrowed some money—he did not tell me from whom—he did not tell me he had bought a gold watch and chain and an imitation diamond stud on the 30th.
Re-examined. I do not remember him telling me that on a particular day he would read me his diary—he always kept a diary when he was away from me—I knew he was going to the Continent on May 30th, about a month previous.
By the COURT. I last saw Mr. Case about the beginning of May, about a month before my husband went away—I do not know Mr. Willis.
pawnshop with him on two or three occasions—I was not with him on May 27th—I was not in the Eversholt Road Post Office, Camden Town, on May 27th—I bought a single stone diamond ring from Mr. Thompson's, and the same day redeemed some pledges to the amount of £30—I cannot remember the date—I do not think I paid with a £5 note—I have been in the employ of Messrs. Laird and Company—I left last December—I remember going there one day last March to get a reference.
Cross-examined. Mr. O'Brien's Christian name, I think, is Terence—he is about thirty years of age, and of a medium complexion—I have seen him with and without a moustache—he wore glasses—I have known him two or three years—I have not been in employment since I left Messrs. Laird's last December—the things I pawned with Mr. Thompson during 1902 were not all my own—I pawned a silver tea set for a lady friend—I do not remember pawning any clothes, I may have—the £30 which I expended at Mr. Thompson's shop in May I had in my box—I have had as much as £200 or £300 in my box at a time—I decline to say where I got it.
RICHARD FAWKLAND FENTON . I live at 16, Rochester Square, Camden Town—I was present when Inspector Murphy arrested the prisoner—I cannot remember what he said at the time, but I know he denied the charge—I have never seen him wearing a silk hat and frock coat—I know Mr. Case—he was about 34 years old. 5 ft. 11 in. or 6 ft. high, rather spare, and spoke with a strong American accent—he wore glasses—I do not remember if he wore a beard or not—between May 24th and 30th there was no outward sign of the prisoner having a lot of money.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on May 25th he met his wife about 9.30 a.m., and went with her first to the National Art Gallery and then to Brixton, and left her about 8 p.m.; that he was never at the offices of Messrs. Laird and Company; that he made the acquaintance of a John O'Brien in Southampton Row ten or twelve days previous to May 30th: that he lent O'Brien £3 155.;that May 30th was the last time he saw O'Brien, when he repaid him with a £5 note; that they had a drink at the Eagle public house, where he cashed the note and gave O'Brien the change; that he then personally cashed another note for O'Brien at his request: that O'Brien then asked him to get a suit of clothes out of pledge for him at Mr. Thompson's, as there would be a row if he went in himself; that O'Brien gave him another £5 to pay for it; that while in the shop he saw a cheap gold watch and chain, and bought it, and gave the parcel and the change to O'Brien, and left him and had not seen him since; that on his way he passed Messrs. Allworthy's and saw the stud and bought it with the note he had changed for O'Brien; that he bought both the stud and the watch and chain because he was going to Paris that day to meet his uncle, and wanted to look well; that the ticket to Paris was bought for him by a friend and sent to him in a registered letter; that he returned to London on June 20th and was in Finsbury Park with his wife the next day, when he had the conversation with Hart; that the writing on the forged cheque was not his; that he was not in Eversholt Road post office buying £1 postal orders on May 30th; that he had never been to 39. Hercules Road. Lambeth and asked for Mr. Terence O'Brien that
he knew a Mr. Gillmore, but Gillmore and O'Brien were not the same man.
Evidence in reply.
ELIZABETH BAKER . I live at 140, York Road, Lambeth—in July, 1901, I lived at 39, Hercules Road, and had a Mr. Gillmore lodging with me—a man came with Mr. West and inquired for a Mr. O'Brien—he did not mention his Christian name—I do not recognise the prisoner as the man.
F. GOODE (Re-examined.) This card, "Mr. Terence M. O'Brien" (Produced) was given to me about two years ago by Mr. O'Brien—I used to keep his pawn tickets for him, and he gave me this card to keep with them—he is the same O'Brien whose suit was redeemed on May 30th for 10s.
Cross-examined. He used to pawn in the name of John O'Brien—O'Brien and Willis seemed to be great friends.
ADELINE JAMES (Re-examined.) Willis was not discharged from Messrs. Laird Brothers, he absented himself from the office; I was ill at the time and wrote to him demanding his presence—he never came again—he knew where the cheque book was kept.
Further evidence for the defence.
FLORENCE HARD (Examined by the prisoner.) I am a niece of Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, and live with them at 16, Rochester Square—about a week before you went away I remember you getting up one morning very early—about the end of April, I think, you had told me you were going to Paris—I have never seen you wearing a silk hat or frock coat—I know Mr. Case, he usually wore a Navy blue lounge suit.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the North London Sessions on August 7th, 1901, in the name of James Bertram Hutton. Seven years' penal servitude. THE COURT awarded Miss James £5 for her efforts in bringing the prisoner to justice.
MR. PURCELL and MR. FULTON prosecuted.
JOHN MOORE HALL . I am medical officer at Hackney Infirmary—on July 12th, about 12.45 a.m., Mrs. Downing was brought in, suffering from two wounds on her right cheek—they were communicating wounds and were not dangerous—from their position I should think she was shot from behind.
JANE WARD . I live with my father at 83, Maberley Street, Hommerton—the prisoner and his wife occupied part of the house—on July 11th the prisoner came in about midnight and went straight upstairs—Mrs. Downing and I were in the kitchen—to go upstairs you must pass the kitchen door—
the prisoner came downstairs immediately with a revolver in his hand, fired at his wife and hit her—she ran to the back door and he fired again—she then ran into the yard where my father was sleeping and the prisoner fired a third time.
ANNIE DOWNING . I am the prisoner's wife—on July 11th he came in about midnight and went straight upstairs—I was in the kitchen—he came down again and started calling me abusive names—I told him to go upstairs and not to interfere with me—he then said he had something upstairs for me and not for me alone—he went upstairs and came down again with a revolver in his hand—he said, "Now you can attack me with the poker if you like"—with that the thing went off and a burning sensation crossed my face—in a second or two I noticed my face bleeding—I then ran into the garden—the kitchen window was open and my husband ran to the window and fired at me again—I was afterwards taken to the infirmary and stayed as an in-patient for a week—I did not attend as an out patient—the wounds are well now.
By the COURT. I cannot say when the third shot was fired.
GEORGE HENRY WARD . I am a drover, of 83, Maberley Street, Hommerton—the prisoner and his wife have lodged with me about two years—about midnight on July 11th I was in the yard, asleep upon a form—I was awakened by a report of fire arms and the screams of my daughter, and saw the prisoner leaning out of the kitchen window with a revolver in his hand—I did not see him fire it—I found these two bullets (Produced), one on the stairs and the other in the kitchen.
JAMES ELRICH (33 J.R.) On July 12th, about 12.15 a.m. I was outside 83, Maberley Street and heard two shots fired inside—I saw the prisoner at the gate—I said to him, "What is this?"—he replied, "Blank cartridges" and handed me this revolver (Produced)—I went into the house and saw Ward and his daughter—they gave the prisoner into custody for shooting at them—I took him to the station.
HENRY HOLLOWAY (Police Inspector J.) On July 12th at 12.30 a.m. I was in charge of the Victoria Park police station when the prisoner was brought in—I cautioned him and he said, "I will reserve my defence"—Elrich handed me this revolver—I found three chambers discharged and two undischarged—I afterwards went to 83, Maberley Street and Ward handed me these two cartridges—I found a dent on the kitchen door—I searched the prisoner's room and found twenty cartridges similar to these two—when charged he said, "Right."
WILLIAM WALTER PEARMAN . I am assistant to Mr. Saunders, a pawnbroker of 191, Mare Street, Hackney—I sold this revolver and these cartridges on Saturday, July 11th, about 6 p.m.—the revolver was 4s. 6d. and the cartridges 1s.—I do not recognise the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence: "I was provoked to do it I heard my wife promise Ward that he should sleep with her on Sunday night, July 5th. I saw him try her bedroom door, and when I stopped him from going in he threatened to kill me."
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Twelve months' hard labour. He had been previously convicted of assaulting his wife.
FOURTH COURT—Wednesday, July 22, 1903
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
BRIDGES PLEADED GUILTY to robbery only.
MR. GANZ prosecuted.
WILLIAM COSTER . I am a manufacturer's agent at Manchester—on July 15th I came to London on business—on the 16th, about 11.30 a.m., I was in the Hackney Road—it was raining, and I had my umbrella up—as I passed Kay Street some one hit me on my stomach with his left hand, at the same time snatching my watch and part of my chain—he then ran away with two others—I followed but failed to catch them—I gave information to the police and the next day I was asked to go to the station to identify the man—I went but was unable to do so—the value of the watch is £ 70.
Cross-examined by Bridges. The man who struck me was about your build—I could not see his face.
HENRY SHARPE . I live at 31, Tiel Street—about 11.30 a.m. on July 16th I was at the corner of Kay Street and Hackney Road—I saw Bridges rush at the prosecutor, hit him in his stomach, and snatch his watch and chain—I have known him for some years—three other men were with him and they all ran off—I should know them if I saw them—I do not know their names—I followed them but could not catch them—the next day I went to the station and identified Bridges.
ERNEST BARTLETT . I am eleven years of age and live at 57, Tiel Street—about 11.30 a.m. on July 16th I was in the Hackney Road—I saw two men running—one was Bridges—I did not know the other and should not know him again if I saw him.
CHARLES LEE (Detective J.) At 3.30 p.m. on July 16th I saw Bridges in Brick Lane and arrested him on this charge—he said he knew nothing about it—I took him to the station where he said, "I admit I pulled the chain"—on the early morning of the 18th I went with Detective Taylor to 6, Summers Road, Walthamstow, and saw Andrews—I told him we were police officers and should take him into custody for being concerned with Charles Bridges already in custody, for stealing a gentleman's gold watch and portion of a chain, in the Hackney Road on Thursday—he said, "I have been shopped again"—we brought him by train to Bethnal Green—in the train he said, "I admit I was there, I did not pull the chain; we are the biggest fools to go in the Hackney Road and do such a thing as that where we are known"—he was charged and made no reply.
Cross-examined by Andrews. I did not give your statement in evidence at the police court, Taylor did, he accompanied me.
HERBERT TAYLOR (Detective J.) At one a.m. on July 18th I went with Lee to 6, Summers Road, Walthamstow and there saw Andrews in bed—he knew us and as soon as he saw us he said, "I am shopped again"—we brought him to Bethnal Green by train and in the train he said, "I was
there, but I did not snatch the chain, we are fools to do it in Hackney Road where we are known"—when formally charged he made no reply.
Andrews in his defence on oath said that he knew nothing of the robbery, and that he had not made the statements alleged to have been made by him by the detective officers, and said that he had not been identified by anyone.
BRIDGES— GUILTY . He then pleaded.
GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Worship Street Police Court on March 13th, 1903. Twelve months' hard labour. ANDREWS— NOT GUILTY .
603. DAVID WEINSTONE (42) and ROSEN SOULMAN (60) , Conspiring together to cheat and defraud Frederick Wensley of £2,285; Second Count, Attempting to obtain from him £2,285 by false pretences with intent to defraud.
MR. BODKIN and MR. SYMMONS Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN Defended Weinstone.
JOHN MARKS . I am a hatter of 33, Hawkins Street, Mile End Road—I have known Weinstone about two years—in May last he came to me and told me he had a friend who wanted to see me particularly—I made an appointment for the next day, when he introduced me to Soulman in Middlesex Street, and then left us—Soulman then said to me, "I know you work for a rich firm, and I want you to introduce something to your governor"—I asked what it was, and he said that there was a man in Russia who had the position of overseer in the Siberian Mines, and as he collected the gold from the prisoners each day he was able to take some for him-self, and that he had 70 lbs. of gold dust to sell, and proposed that my governor should be the buyer: that the man who used to buy it was dead, and they were looking for another—I said I should see my governor about it, and made an appointment for the next day—I then went and reported the matter to the police at Arbour Square—I met him the next day and told him that my master wanted to see a sample of the gold—he gave me a small nugget and told me the bulk was equal to it—I left him then, having arranged to let him know what my master would do in two or three days—I then gave the nugget to the police—a few days after I saw Soulman again, and told him that my master had tested the nugget and was satisfied with it and wanted to know all the particulars—he said that my governor would have to go to Germany for the gold dust, but that he would pay all expenses—I then left him and reported to the police—the next Sunday I saw Weinstone and gave him the nugget that Soulman had given me, and told him that my master would not have anything to do with it because it was a swindle—a few days after I accidentally met him at the London Hospital, and he told me that Soulman wanted to see me again—I arranged to meet him the next day—I did so—he then told me that he should like to see my master and explain to him that the gold he was trying to sell him was real gold, and that the business was not a swindle, and that if they got on together he would not trouble him to go out of London for it—I said I should speak to him about it, and asked him for a sample of the gold dust which he brought to my house on the Sunday and melted it down, and gave me the nugget to give to my master—he
then went away, and I arranged to meet him in a day or two to let him know what my master intended to do—I met him and told him that my master-was satisfied with it and would like to see him to arrange the business—a day or two later I went with Soulman to a house in Camberwell to introduce him to my governor—we' were admitted by Sergeant Wensley, and I introduced him to Soulman as my governor—the interview was a satisfactory one, and on the way home Soulman told me that he was satisfied now that he had met my master, and he hoped that the business would finish, and he said he would telegraph the first thing in the morning to the Russian officer—he arranged to let me know the answer to the telegram on the Sunday, and on the Sunday I met him and he produced a letter written in Russian, and read it to me—I cannot read Russian—all our conversations were in German—the letter was to the effect that the Russian officer did not understand the telegram, and that the gold dust was to be sold by the Russian weight, and the exact quantity was 82 lbs.—at the same interview he gave me a brass weight which he said weighed a quarter of a pound, and told me that that was the weight the officer referred to—I afterwards gave it to Sergeant Wensley—a few days later he showed me a telegram purporting to come from some town in Russia, saying that the price arranged by Wensley and Soulman had been accepted by the Russian officer, and gave it to me to show my master—I gave it to Wensley—a few days after I saw Soulman again, and returned him all the things he had given me, and told him that my master would not have anything to do with it because it must be a swindle—he then asked me if I could keep a secret; I said, yes; and he explained to me that the stuff he was trying to sell my master was not gold but brass filings; I was surprised, and told him that he was trying to do me as well; he said, "Never mind that, if we succeed in getting the money we shall have equal shares"—I said, very well, and promised to give him my assistance and tell my governor that everything was all right—a day or two later I saw him again, and he showed me a telegram in German saying, "Left Russia for England"—it was not signed—a week afterwards I met Weinstone at his house, 33, Maidmans Street—I saw Soulman there filling a bag with brass filings—I asked him when he was going to deliver the stuff to my governor, and we arranged the following evening at nine o'clock—I arranged to meet him at 33, Maidmans Street to help carry the filings—he asked me if I was sure my governor would have the money, and I told him he need not trouble about that—he told me that when he got the money he would do it up in small packets, each containing an equal share, and he would ask my governor to allow me to show him the way to the 'bus, and when we got outside we should go straight to Euston and then to Manchester, and then to Berlin, where there was another business prepared—I called at Maidmans Street the next evening—Soulman was there, not Weinstone—he gave me two bottles, one containing aquafortis and the other water—I asked him how I could distinguish them, and he pointed out a small piece of paper in the neck of the bottle containing the aquafortis, and told me to carry the aquafortis in the right pocket and the water in the left—he gave me the bottles in case my
governor wanted to have the gold tested—when we had got the money, if he asked for the aquafortis I was to give him the bottle of water—we then went together to the Great Eastern Hotel, where we saw Weinstone—on the way Soulman told me that Weinstone was going to act the Russian officer—he was wearing a silk hat when we met him—after having some drinks at the Great Eastern Hotel, Soulman asked me to call a cab—I did so, and we all three got in and drove away—in Christian Street the cab was stopped and the two prisoners were arrested—during the whole of the proceedings I was acting under the instructions of the police.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I am a Roumanian—my real name is Mark Zakeria—since I have been in England I have adopted the name of John Marks—I have been here three years—I have been with my present employers two years—I had an official certificate given me when 1 left Roumania—I have since lost it—I first met Weinstone in Middlesex Street—he used to sell cakes—I always looked upon him as a steady hard working man until this matter—he introduced me to Soulman, but I had no dealings with him—I went to the police because I could see there was stolen property to be sold—Weinstone never offered me any money.
Cross-examined by Soulman, I am not a Jew—my wife is a Jewish woman, and my boy has been circumcised—I did not know that the business was a swindle until you told me yourself—we were about half an hour with Sergeant Wensley.
FREDERICK WENSLEY (Detective Serjeant H.) I got certain information about this case from Marks, and on June 10th, about 9 p.m., he introduced me to Soulman at an address in Camberwell—I knew him as Kaplin—I said to him, "I have tested that nugget of gold you let Marks have, and I am satisfied that it is pure gold: what is the quantity you want to sell, and is the bulk up to sample"—he said, "There is about 90 lbs.; it is all virgin gold the same as the nugget I gave Marks to show you; but before entering into business I want to ask you a question; can you keep a secret?"—I replied, "Yes, I have done so"—he nodded his head in approval and said, "I can see you are a business man, I will tell you; is a great secret, and if you keep it we can make you very rich; there is an officer in a very high position in the Russian Army, and his position enables him to get large quantities of raw gold from the Russian mines across the frontier, two or three times a year; the gentleman who used to purchase it is dead, he died worth a lot of money; we have now to find another buyer"—I said, "Do you mean the gold is stolen"—he replied, "I am surprised you should ask me such a question, but there, you Englishmen are all alike, you are not clever, you are too straightforward to be clever, we foreigners know the world best"—I said, "There may be a great deal of truth in what you say, but I want to know my position"—he said, "Of course it is what you would call stolen, but the police here cannot touch you, the risk is getting it over the frontier and would mean terrible punishment if they caught us there"—I said, "What do you want for it?"—he said, "We have always had 25 per cent. below the market value"—I said, "That is a lot more than I should give"—he replied, "Well, what do you
think would be a fair price"—I said, "Considering the risk, 50 per cent."—he said, "We cannot let it go for that, but in order to secure your custom, I think the officer would let you have it at 35 per cent, below the market value, which we will say is £3 5s. per ounce or £39 per lb., and that will work out act at 25 per cent, for me, 35 per cent, for the officer, and 35 per cent yourself, leaving 5 per cent. for working expenses"—I said, "That is more reasonable; how much do you propose to bring, and what are the facilities you intend to offer me to see that the bulk is up to sample? how many do you wish to be present at the transaction, and what do you propose about payment?"—he laughed and said, "You are really more clever than I thought you were; I like dealing with clever men. I shall bring about 90 lbs., and shall bring everything you want, both to test the gold and to weigh it; you can have Marks to look after your interests and my principal the Russian officer will come with me, because although he has got confidence in me I should hardly like to ask him to trust me with such a large quantity, and he would not come alone because he would expect me to look after his interests and do the work"—I said, "Very well, that is understood"—he said then, "I shall communicate with you through Marks and let you know the date and hour when we will bring it; I shall let you know two or three days before, so that you can get the money out of the bank, as we should like to have it in gold"—I then said I had other gentlemen to see and must bid him good night—he asked me for my card—I said, "I have not asked you for your card, I will give you mine, but not now"—they then left—I did not have any other conversation with Soulman—I saw Marks from time to time, and gave him instructions—on June 28th I charged the prisoners—in reply Soulman said, "You only wanted to give me 38s. per ounce, you know"—I did not part with any money—altogether I pretended to buy £2,280 worth of dust.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I never had anything to do with Weinstone—he was not present at Camberwell when I had the conversation with Soulman.
Cross-examined by Soulman. Our interview lasted about an hour and a half—you said you wanted the money in gold—there were about 90 lbs. troy weight and 72 lbs. avoirdupois.
BENJAMIN LEESON (Detective H.) On May 24th Marks came to me at Arbour Square police station and gave me information—between then and June 27th I saw him from time to time and gave him certain instructions—on two occasions he brought me a nugget of gold, which I handed over to Inspector Divall—on June 27th I was with other police officers in the Burdett Road—I saw Soulman and Marks together at the corner of Maidmans Street—Soulman was carrying a black bag—they went into the Great Eastern Hotel—after being in there about twenty minutes Marks came out and engaged a cab—Soulman and Weinstone then came out and all three got into the cab—we stopped the cab in the Commercial Road and arrested the prisoners—when charged Weinstone said, "It was brass filings I had on me, I had it for gold dust, he,"meaning Soulman," brought it to my house and I helped-to load it up, you can only charge us with
an attempt, we have not gotany thing yet"—I found on him two bags of brass filings, one in front and one at the back, under his shirt—in this hand bag (Produced) were similar bags filled with brass filings—I afterwards went to 33, Maidmans Street, and there found some brass filings.
SAMUEL LEE (Detective Officer). I was with other officers when the prisoners were arrested—I took charge of Soulman—when I jumped into the cab he said, "On my life, it is his brother"—I said, "I am a police officer and shall take you to the station"—I took him to Leman Street—searched him, and found concealed under his waistcoat two pads of brass filings and an envelope containing some gold dust in his jacket pocket—in the bag he was carrying I found a spirit lamp, bottle of methylated sprit, some charcoal, a blowpipe, and two pads of filings, £2 in gold, 6s. in silver, and several other articles—in his overcaot which he was carrying I found another pad of filings—when charged he said, "I know, I hope you will be merciful."
THOMAS DIVALL (Police Inspector H.) I was with the other officers when the prisoners were arrested—I took Weinstone out of the cab—I felt the pads from the outside of his coat and said, "What have you got round your body"—he said, "It is all over, you will see it all, it is dust," and pointing to Soulman he said, "He was going to take me there; I have never been there; we are done; the stuff was made up in my house, but he brought the filings there"—at the station Soulman said, "Well, you have only got me for an attempt, I had not got the money; I first learned how to do it in Minsk, the law is different in this country to what it is in other countries, that is why I wanted to get the buyer into another country"—I have had the filings weighed; there are 72 lbs. avoirdupois weight, and 90 lbs. troy—I have had them tested, also the gold.
Weinstone received a good character.
WEINSTONE— Twelve months' hard labour. SOULMAN— Eighteen months' hard labour.
OLD COURT—Thursday, July 23rd, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrence.
604. JOHN BURTON (61), PLEADED GUILTY to shooting at Jane Burton with intent to do her grevious bodily harm. He received a good character. Judgment respited that he may be kept under observation, and to see if his delusions can be removed.
MR. BODKIN and MR. GUY STEPHENSON Prosecuted; and MR. CLARKE HALL Defended.
JANE STERN . I live at 328, City Road—at the end of last month and the beginning of this I had rooms at 27, Burton Crescent—I was not the landlady—a woman named Mrs. Franks lived there with the prisoner—I let one of my rooms to him—she was on the streets—a few weeks after the prisoner came he opened a shop—he and Franks sent for Fredel
Birkelvitch from Russia—she came to this country, I think, a few days before Christmas—Mrs. Franks is her sister—she is a Russian Pole—Fredel, Mrs. Franks, and the prisoner all lived in the same room for which the prisoner paid me 5s. a week—there was only one bed in it—it was a small room—when Fredel first came the prisoner wanted her to go on the streets like her sister, but she would not; afterwards she did so—I do not know if she brought any men home with her, other people lived in the house—Morris Cohen did not live there, he used to visit the house now and again—he came to Mrs. Franks for money—Hyman Fenovitch had a room in the house—Rosa Stich used to come there for her washing, she was there at the beginning of the year—one day Fredel came into the kitchen, Rosa Stich was there, too—Mr. Coyer came in after her and also the prisoner, who said to Fredel, "G out, I do not want to live with you in one room, I want you in a place, will you go out,"—at first she said she did not want to go with him—he struck heron the neck when she tried to go out, he pushed her, pulled her by the neck, and kicked her and she fell against the door; then she fell on the ground and he kicked her, and gave her a blue eye with his hand—I do not know if his hand was doubled up—I did not look at her, because of the blood on the floor—when she was on the floor he gave her something more, and said, "If you want to go into service I will make it that you cannot go into service"—then a lot of people came, and he went away—when she first came to my place she told me she was in the family way, and had pains inside—I could not see that she was in the family way, she was only a few months gone—after the assault she went into service for a few weeks, but she could not remain there long, because she always had pains—she came to my place again at Passover, which is at Easter—I did not see her again until I took her to the workhouse—Mrs. Franks continued to live in the house as well as the prisoner until he was arrested—in the beginning of May Fredel came to see me, and in consequence of what she said I took her to the Holborn Workhouse.
Cross-examined. I had four rooms at the top, my daughter's young man was in one, a tailor in another, and another woman in the other—she was a prostitute, but she did not bring men to my place—I paid my rent to an agent named Kenner, he has got an office in King's Cross—I know a man named Max Lewis, he was the landlord—he did not often come to the house—I am a washerwoman, and once the copper was broken, and I sent for him—I do not know if Max Lewis was sentenced to two years' hard labour at this Court last Session (See page 857), it is nothing to do with me—I have heard that he is in prison—before I lived at this house I lived at. 12, Jamaica Road, Limehouse—I was convicted of keeping a brothel, but I did not do so—I only took the rents from my own lodgers at Burton Crescent—one of them was a prostitute, but she does not do no work at my place—Max Lewis never slept at that house—he did not sleep with Fredel—I do not know if Fenovitch slept in the house—I have nothing to do with Max Lewis—I was not the manageress for him at Burton Crescent—I did not have a quarrel with Fredel or with Mrs. Franks—I had a quarrel with the prisoner—I took out a summons
against him at the Clerkenwell Police Court—I went into the witness-box and gave evidence against him—that summons was dismissed, and I had to pay two guineas costs—he was the stronger, because he had a solicitor—he broke my things, and we had a quarrel because the girl would not go on the streets—I could not speak at all at the Court—he had a false witness, and I had nobody—I do not remember if that summons was on February 7th—Max Lewis then took out a summons against the prisoner—Max is not my friend—I was not at the Court then, if I was not there how can I say if Fredel gave evidence—she did not give evidence on my summons, I wish I had had her, and she would have told everything that was true—I did not ask Max Lewis anything about the second summons, Fredel did not tell me that she went to Clerkenwell Police Court on February 8th, I did not speak to her—I do not know if Max Lewis came and stayed at the house with Fredel about Easter time, I left about two months before that—after my summons had been dismissed, I did not say to anybody, speaking of the prisoner, "He has had our two guineas, but he has not done with us yet; we will get our own back"—I did not say that in the presence of Mrs. Franks or Annie Harris—I do not know her, she may have lived in my house, but not in that name—I may have told the Magistrate that the assault took place just before Christmas, but I cannot remember the date—when I was before the Coroner I told him it was four weeks after Christmas, but I cannot remember—the prisoner kept on kicking Fredel for a few minutes while she was on the ground—Cohen, Mrs. Stich, and myself was there all the time—Cohen was a stranger in the house, and I was afraid for him—none of us interfered.
HYMAN FENOVITCH (Interpreted.) I am a tailor of 27, Burton Crescent—I have lived there for about eight months—the prisoner was there when I first went there—he was living there with Rebecca Franks, and then her sister, Fredel Birkelvitch, came—she lived in the same room that her sister and the prisoner occupied—a few days before or after Christmas I heard a woman's shrieks in the kitchen—I went down and saw Fredel on the ground—the prisoner was standing over her, kicking her on her side—he said to her, "I have not taken you here to go into service, and if you go into service I know what I will do"—Fredel was crying.
Cross-examined. I was living at Burton Crescent with my wife—I do not know a woman named Sarah—I swear I was living there with my wife—she took out a summons against me for desertion—I was paying her 12s. 6d. a week under a Magistrate's order—that refers to my first wife—I divorced her at home—she came to London, and I am paying for the children—I attended the Court when the Magistrate made the order—my first wife stated that she was not divorced, but I stated that she was—the Magistrate increased the order to 17s. per week on July 1st—when I went down to the room Fredel was on the floor being kicked. Cohen, Stich and Stern were standing looking on—I did not interfere—before I went to Burton Crescent I lived at Heneage Street, Brick Lane—I used to go to 25. Tunbridge Street to work—my wife served the summons on me at Tunbridge Street because she knew I used to go there—that
house was a restaurant—I do not know if Max Lewis was convicted of keeping that house as a brothel—Fredel acted as my servant for nine or ten weeks—about three weeks before her death she left my house at 27, Burton Crescent—she was not then on the streets—I did not know that 27, Burton Crescent was a brothel—it is inhabited by a Jewish gang of prostitutes, but I know it is not a brothel—there are also some respectable people there—Fredel did not sleep with me—my wife was at the hospital, but Fredel slept in the kitchen downstairs—she was not living with me—she did not go on the streets and bring me back the money—I am a hard working man—I did not know that she was a prostitute—I know Mrs. Stern.
MORRIS COHEN . I live in Anthony Street, Commercial Road—I knew Fredel Birkelvitch—on the Sunday before or after Christmas I was at 27, Burton Crescent—I went there to get some money from Mrs. Franks as her son was lodging with me—after dinner I was in the kitchen with Mrs. Stern and Rose—I do not know her other name—Fredel came in and asked what was the matter with the boy—the prisoner came in and said to her, "You go up stairs"—she said, "I do not want to go upstairs" he said again, "You go upstairs"—she said, "I do not want to"—he started to beat her—I saw blood come from her nose, afterwards she fell to the ground, and he gave her about two kicks on the body—I do not know which side—she screamed—he said, "I sent for you, and I am the boss for you, and you will have to do what I tell you to do"—the people came in and the prisoner went away.
Cross-examined. I was there the whole time that this was going on—it lasted about fifteen minutes—he kicked her after she fell—I did not interfere because I was a stranger in the house—I would not interfere with such people—Mrs. Stern is a relation of mine—I did not tell the Coroner that this happened on a Thursday.
ROSA STICH (In custody). I am single, and at the end of last year and the beginning of this I was living at 27, Burton Crescent—I sometimes went out on the streets to meet men—I was in the kitchen one day in the beginning of the year—I remember Cohen coming in—Fredel was there, the prisoner came in and told her to leave the room—she said, "I won't go, I will stay here"—the prisoner repeated his request—she objected, she was standing by the table—he seized her by the neck and pushed her a little forward and she fell down—while she was on the ground he pushed her a little forward with his feet—I cannot remember if he had his boots on—it was between the afternoon and evening—she called him filthy names and shrieked—the prisoner then left the room.
Cross-examined. My present address is His Majesty's Prison, Holloway—at the time of this occurrence I was living at 27, Tunbridge Street—it is not my business if that house was a brothel owned by Max Lewis—I do not know if he was convitced of keeping it—I know Mr. Ludviski—it is not my business if he was convicted of keeping a brothel—I "was living at 27, Tunbridge Street when he was convicted—I do not know what made Fredel fall—it may have been an artificial fall—she was always
angry with the prisoner—I did not interfere—I had known the girl for a short time before.
THOMAS EVANS . I am medical officer at the Holborn Union Workhouse—Fredel Birkelvitch was admitted there on May 28th—she was in labour, and next day was delivered of a stillborn child of seven or eight months' development—fever set in and she died of blood poisoning on June 8th—I made a post mortem examination and found the origin of the blood poisoning was a small abcess in the left ovary which had broken and the poisonous matter had got into the system—the abcess was, I think, of some months standing—it is not unusual for women leading an immoral life to have abcesses—such an abcess might be caused by direct violence, such as a blow or kick, but more likely if the blow had been on the same side as the diseased ovary.
Cross-examined. I found no marks over the diseased ovary—I have no doubt that the child was conceived before December.
HARRY GARRARD (Constable E.) I saw the deceased once—she made a statement to me which I took down in writing—she did not swear an information before a Magistrate—the statement was laid before a Magistrate on February 21st or 22nd—I did not search for the prisoner after that, but on June 13th I saw him at Culvert Avenue—I told him I was a police officer, and should take him into custody for causing the death of Fredel Birkelvitch by striking her, and that the allegations were that after that he had kicked her, on or about January 22nd, at 27, Burton Crescent—he replied, "That is false"—he was charged at the" station, and then said, "That is not right, I want to see the Magistrate."
Cross-examined. The girl was brought to me by the Secretary of the Jewish Association—she made no complaint on February 21st of having been kicked by the prisoner—the complaint was that she had bees struck in the eyes—she went before the Magistrate and made a complaint to him and asked for process against the prisoner—the Magistrate did not say he did not believe her story—he refused process—it was long after the assault—Max Lewis was not with her when she was before the Magistrate—I am sure he was not there—the Secretary of the Jewish Association was with her.
Re-examined. The defused said to me that the prisoner had struck her with his fist between the eyes causing her to have two black eyes; and that her sister locked her in the room and would not let her go out for a for night because of the black eyes—she said she was struck because she refused to go on the streets—she said she wanted to be a domestic servant.
Evidence for the Defence.
REBECCA FRANKS . I live at 70. Judd Street, St. Pancras, and am an unfortunate—in December last I was Jiving at 27. Burton Street which was a brothel—I received a letter from the deceased, who was my sister, from Russia, asking if she could come over here as she could not get her living there—her father then wrote saying that she was in trouble—she came to this country, I think, about a month before Christmas—she lived with me for nearly fourteen days—she said she was ill
and was going to the bad—I knew Max Lewis—lie was the landlord, and Jane Stern was the person who took the rent from me—as long as my sister was with me she was all right—then Jane Stem asked her to go and sleep do we stairs—as I had to do my business, she went and slept in Mrs. Stern's kitchen—I found out that Max Lewis came there in the night time to see her in the kitchen—no one slept with her while she was with me except myself—I swear that she has never cohabited with or had anything to do with the prisoner—my sister was not with me at Christmas, but she was in the same house—she went to Max Lewis, who took a room for her at 26, Argyle Street—I never saw anything the matter with her eyes, if I had I would say so, because she is my sister and my blood—she never complained of being assaulted while at my place, and out in the street I never saw anything the matter with her—I know Fenovitch, he lived in the house with a young woman—my sister walked out on the streets for him—everybody knew it—she gave him her earnings.
Cross-examined. I have been in London ten or twelve years—I have only been a prostitute for seven years—I only picked the prisoner up about ten or twelve months ago—I did not live with him he only came to visit me—I have never given him any money—I know where to put it and not give it to a fellow—I paid the rent for my room at Burton Crescent—the prisoner did not live there with me—my sister, the prisoner and myself did not live in the same room—I knew that the house was a brothel—I got my sister to come there—I told her to go into service—I would go into service myself if I could get work—she only slept with me for two or three nights when I did not go out for work—the prisoner did not live in the house—he visited me once or twice a week, I cannot say which—I have got a son—I selected Cohen to look after him for me—he did so properly—I paid him 10s. a week—he never came to my house to get the money—he sent for it—he never came to me for it—I have often seen him at the house in the kitchen—Fenovitch is a tailor—I have known Mrs. Stich for years—I did not know her name—she is a fellow prostitute—I am a constant companion of hers in the street—Mrs. Stern was the landlady—I never heard that in January Mrs. Stern, Mrs. Stich, Cohen and Fenovitch were in the kitchen at 27, Burton Crescent, or that while they were there my sister was assaulted by the prisoner—I did not notice that my sister's eyes were too black for her to go on the street—I kept her for a fortnight in the kitchen, but not until she got better, because I did not see any marks—I did not go to visit her in the hospital—I did not know she was there—I knew she was in the family way; I could see it, and she told me so when she came over—I did not tell the prisoner that she was in the family way—I do not know how he got to know it.
Re-examined. The fortnight when I kept my sister was when she first came over—I gave her my advice to go to service—she said she did not like it—I knew before she came over that she had fallen and was a prostitute—she was in a licensed house; my father wrote and told me so—the place that I was living in was the only place I had to take her to.
an unfortunate—in December and January I was living at 27, Burton Crescent—I knew the deceased, and about Christmas I frequently saw her—I was at Burton Crescent for four months—she was only there for twelve days or a fortnight—I used to speak to her—I never saw anything the matter with her eyes—she never complained to me that she had been assaulted or beaten—I rented a room from Mrs. Stern—one day I passed her when she was with Max Lewis and the deceased—Mrs. Stern said she would have her own revenge back—I am not aware that the prisoner lived at 27, Burton Crescent.
Cross-examined. I heard Mrs. Stern say that she would have her revenge as I was passing in the street—I have seen the prisoner once or twice at Burton Crescent not frequently—he was not living with Mrs. Frank that I am aware of—Mrs. Frank told me she was living in a shop at 2, Ossulston Street—I left Burton Crescent four months ago—I never heard that the deceased had been assaulted.
Re-examined. When I heard the conversation in the street I had left Burton Crescent.
GUILTY † The Jury added that they regretted that this class of persons should be allowed to emigrate into this country, and wished that it could be lessened, if not altogether prevented. One previous conviction at this Court on December 14th, 1900, was proved against the prisoner, who was stated to have lived wholly on the prostitution of women until nine months ago. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. BODKIN for the Prosecution, offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. GILL and MR. MURPHY Prosecuted.
EMMA SHERINGHAM . I am the wife of Alfred Sheringham, a wheel-wright, of 18, Faith Street, Mile End, next door to where the prisoner lived, 16, Faith Street—I know her as living at that house—I cannot remember the date she left—she lived there with her husband. Robert, who was a boot finisher—there was a little girl who lived there who I knew by the name of Harriet—she was about nine years old—I knew she was not the prisoner's daughter, who had children—my attention was called to the condition of the deceased—I heard a child cry—I looked through the fence, and I see the prisoner hit the deceased three times round the head—another time I see the child lick the plates out three times—once the prisoner asked the child to help her in from the yard with a table and as the child did so she shoved the table against its head and cut it—I saw blood—it was done on purpose—the child was stupefied—she was always very dirty—she had a mark on her left ear which looked like a sore—the prisons was generally the worse for liquor on Saturdays and Sundays.
GEORGE HENRY STEWART . I live at 80, Rectory Road, Stoke Newington, and am employed by Mr. Frederick Stain, auctioneer and estate agent of Cambridge Road—I collect the rent of 16, Faith Street—Robert Lench was the tenant down to May 4th—on May 7th the house was vacant.
YETTA ABRAHAMS . I am the wife of Abraham Abrahams, provision dealer of 13. Wells Street, Hackney—in May I had a servant named Harriet Clenshaw—she had been with me for eighteen months—she left me a week ago—I know the prisoner—I did not know her name; she is the sister of my servant—she has been to my place many times—she asked for her sister—on Saturday night, May 23rd, about 9 p.m., she called, and asked for her sister—I told her she was not in—she asked for some money—I said that my servant had not given me any message to give her any money, but I could give her some if she wanted it—she asked for 3s., which I gave her—she appeared to be sober—when she came in she had nobody with her, but afterwards she started speaking of her child and then called her in—she said she wanted her sister to take the child away from her—she did not say what she wanted the money for,' but I knew she wanted it for the child—I had never had any conversation with her before about money for her child—the child looked ill—it had a cut on its left eye—I did not know if it was recent or not—the child was very thin and looked like an old woman—I gave it a cake—she eat it quickly as if she wanted it—she could hardly walk—I persuaded the prisoner to being her next morning when the mother would be at home—I did that because I wanted to take the child to the workhouse or hospital, because it looked so bad and as ii it wanted a doctor—I saw my servant when she came home late that night drunk—I did not say anything to her then—next day, Sunday, she went out.
HARRIET CLENSHAW . I have not got any proper place now, or any work—I have left my mistress since this trouble has been on—I was employed by Mrs. Abrahams—I had a daughter who was about nine years old last May—she bore my name—I am single—I entrusted the child to the care of the prisoner, who is my sister—she has had her ever since she was a little child in long clothes—I paid her 2s. 6d. a week at first, and then 3s. a week—I saw the child from time to time—I last saw it about the end of March—I knew that in the first week in May the prisoner left Faith Street—I did not know where she was—I remember Mrs. Abrahams making a communication to me one Sunday in May—in consequence of that I went to try and find my sister—I went to Faith Street—she was not there—I could not find her at all on that day—I looked each day for her until I found her at Bethnal Green—my child was there fitting up match boxes—I was not aware before that, that she was employed at work—she had a cut across her eye., and a large mark on the back of her head—I asked my sister how the child had got it, and if she had fallen down the stairs—the prisoner said that she had knocked her against a table because she would not do her work—when she was at the Court the prisoner said the child had fallen downstairs—I took the child into the street—the prisoner" came with me—Mrs. Robinson was there and picked the child up—the prisoner and I had a quarrel—she was going
to hit me because I took the child away—Mrs. Robinson helped me to take it to the infirmary—in June I saw it there dead.
SARAH ROBINSON . I am the wife of Henry Robinson, a dock labourer, of 28, Great Holland Buildings, Bethnal Green—on May 28th I was leaving my house about one o'clock, my attention was drawn to the deceased standing by the entrance of the buildings—I saw its mother there—I did not see the prisoner—the child looked very ill—I saw a cut over its left eye—I then went away—later on I returned and saw the child with its mother and grandfather—the prisoner came across the road and commenced to quarrel with the mother—I do not know what they said—the mother picked the child up, when she got to Valance Road arch she put it down—I went over to it and picked it up—the prisoner was near—I said, "Come to the nearest place"—I thought the child was dying, I said that to its mother—I do not know if the prisoner heard what I said—I then took the child to the infirmary—I had never seen any of them before.
HERBERT LARDER , M.R.C.S. I am the medical superintendent at the Whitechapel Infirmary—on May 28th, Harriet Clenshaw brought a little girl about nine years old, who I know now as Harriet Clenshaw, to me—I examined her—she was emaciated, her body was covered with bites from fleas and vermin, there was a bruise covering the whole of the right cheek, sores over the right ear, over the left ear, and on the scalp there were sores, the head was verminous, the body was dirty, the feet were extremely filthy as if they had not been washed for months—there were blood stains on the buttock; the clothing was swarming with vermin—the blood stains were due to prolapsus of the bowels—I did not discover that until afterwards—the stockings were footless, and the whole body, on removing the clothing, was found to be greatly emaciated—the child was very drowsy, frequently coughing; there was great tenderness all over the body—she cried out on being touched or moved—she was in a high state of fever and dangerously ill—it took food ravenously, and had to be carefully watched to prevent its taking too much—the pulse was very rapid and small—she was in great distress and seemed apprehensive on anyone going near her—the bruise on the right cheek looked as if it had been caused by a blow from the flat of the hand, and I should say within three or four days—the sores were caused by neglect—the one near the eye was crusted and scabbed over when I saw it—I knew nothing of another blow at that time—the child continued very ill indeed, and died on June 18th—it weighed 30 lb. 14 oz.—the normal weight of a girl of that age would be 52 lbs.—on June 19th I made a post mortem examination externally, the body was emaciated; there was no fat anywhere about the body, and the muscles were very pale and bloodless; there was an excess of fluid in the brain; the whole of both lungs were riddled with tubercle, and there was a cavity in the upper part of the left lung; there was also a tubercle in the spleen and mensenteric glands—tuberculosis would cause emaciation, which I think was partly due to disease and partly to want of food—the cause of death was acute tuberculosis, accelerated by neglect, want of food, medical aid, and attention—it is most difficult to get patients, as a rule, to take food at all when suffering from tuberculosis, but this
child eat ravenously—I thought the child was dying at the time of admission, she was in a dangerous condition—there was no hope at that stage—the tubercle must have been progressing for months—I think if the child had been provided with proper food, nursing, and medical aid its life would have been prolonged.
KATE DAVIS . I am receiving nurse at the Whitechapel Infirmary—I have been a nurse for nearly twelve years, and have received many children into the hospital—on May 28th the deceased was admitted—she was very ill and in a very filthy and verminous condition—there were bruises on her right cheek and a small cut under the left eye—she appeared to me to be starved.
FRANCIS HALL . I am an inspector of the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children—the fact that Harriet Clenshaw was received into the Whitechapel Infirmary was brought to my notice on May 28th—on May 29th, I went to Faith Street and saw the prisoner—I asked her how she could account for the child being so bruised and emaciated—she said the child had fallen downstairs six weeks ago.
JOHN CABAN (Detective Sergeant.) On July 2nd I saw the prisoner at the police court when she was charged on the Coroner's warrant—in reply to the charge she said, "Yes, Sir, I am much obliged to you."
GUILTY . The prisoner had been sentenced to six weeks' hard labour before the child died, as the case was dealt with summarily on June 11th. Four months' hard labour. The Court and jury commended Sarah Robinson for her conduct.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, July 23rd, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
608. GEORGES DAVID (33) , Unlawfully attempting to procure Louise Sabre to become a common prostitute; also, for 'having conspired together with a woman, known as Madame Albert, to procure her to become a prostitute.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. DOHERTY Defended.
LOUISE SABRE (Through an interpreter.) I lived in Paris with my grandmother and brother, and followed the occupation there of a florist and feather dresser—my father and mother are both dead—on May 21st, 1903, I was on the Boulevard Montmartre about 11 a.m. alone, the prisoner came up and asked me where I was going—at first I would not reply, and then said I had come from my aunt's—he asked me to go and have a drink—I first refused and then accepted—he asked me to lunch, which I accepted—there were also present at the luncheon a M. Henri and Madame Germain—after the luncheon he said that he was going to London, and asked me if I would go with him—I said I did not want to leave my people—he said I should have fine dresses and lots of money instead of working for thirty sous a day—I saw him again two days afterwards in the street by accident—he complained of my not keeping an appointment I had made with him—he asked me to go with him and have something to
drink—we went and had some coffee—he asked me to go with him and make a purchase, instead of which he took me to his room, 39, Rue Rentier—he wanted to have intercourse with me, but I refused—we afterwards went back to the cafe—that afternoon I spent in the prisoner's company and dined with him in the evening—after dinner I went with him to his rooms and slept with him that night—he wanted to have intercourse, but I refused—the next day I had lunch with him, and came back to his rooms and stayed the night there—that was Sunday—he said to me, "We will very soon start"—I came to London on May 26th with the prisoner, Mme. Germain, and M. Henri, travelling alone to Dieppe and on the boat, by the prisoner's instructions—I first went with Mme. Germain to an hotel in Old Compton Street, while the prisoner and M. Henri went to look for lodgings—the prisoner came back and I left with him and went to 4, Reckton Place, Earls Court—a gentleman came with us, the man who lives with Mme. Albert—rooms were taken at Mme. Albert's—the prisoner said to Mme. Albert, "You have to explain to her what she has to do when she goes out"—I was instructed in the following manner: when I went out and a gentleman smiled at me, I was to smile back, and if he said, "Halloa, my dear, where do you live? "I had to give the address, and when asked how much I was to receive, to reply "10s." or "5s." according to the style and dress of the man—I put some black on my eyebrows, some red on my lips, and rouge on my face, and went out with Mme. Albert she spoke to some man, but nothing came of it—I slept with the prisoner, who wanted to have sexual intercourse, but I refused—next evening I again went out with Mme. Albert—the prisoner told me to—I did not speak to any strange man while out, nor did anyone speak to me—the next evening I again went out and spoke to a man, and he went home with me and gave me 18s.—I did not want to submit to him, and he went away, and then the landlord of the house wanted to put me out of doors—I again slept with the prisoner—he told me to continue going out and try to make more money—I slept with the prisoner every night—we left our lodging on June 4th, and went to 4, May's Buildings, St. Martin's Lane—the prisoner told me there might be a better chance of earning money in that neighbourhood—we stayed there eight days—I used to go out, the prisoner made me do so, but as I did not bring anyone home he was not satisfied—on June 10th, Inspector Macarthy spoke to me—I am seventeen years old, having been born on June 10th. 1886—I am now living at 64, Camberwell New Road in the care of the police.
Cross-examined. I was not unhappy in my Paris home—I had no money before I met the prisoner—he explained to me that I had to accost men and would earn money—I had not been accustomed to drink with strange men—I came with the prisoner because he insisted, and I gave way, especially as Mme. Germain told me to go, and I should earn more money, and should not be unhappy—the man I took home to Reckton Place was seen by Mme. Albert, but not by the prisoner—I believe I told the prisoner about it the same evening—the prisoner met me in the street several times—I wrote to my grandmother about the man wanting me
to become a prostitute, and asked her if she could get me away, and one morning a gentleman came and said he was Inspector Macarthy—the prisoner was not there then.
CLARA FACE . I live at 4, Reckton Road, West Brompton, and am single, living under the protection of a gentleman—I do not go by the name of Madame Albert—I do not know anyone of that name—I have seen the prisoner several times in the streets, that is all—I let a room to him at £1 a week, including breakfast, for himself and a lady—he stayed one week—the lady was Louise Sabre—she lived in that room—I do not know M. Henri—I do not know what the prisoner and Miss Sabre did, I did not trouble myself with their doings—I am not in the habit of walking about and soliciting people in the street—I never bought a dress or anything for Louisa Sabre—she bought a dress and I went with her—the prisoner gave her a sovereign to buy it—she also bought a hat. (As the witness was implicated, the Recorder considered that she ought to have been cautioned, upon which the prosecution withdrew her evidence.)
JACK BRIZIO . I live with my father and mother and sister at 4, Recton Road,. Earl's Court, and am an upholsterer—I know the prisoner by sight—I saw him first at our house with my sister Clara—the next day he came with a lady and I fetched some beer for them—the prisoner and the lady lived at the house for about a week—I was at home in the evening—I cannot say what the lady did—the prisoner used to go out in the evening after supper—Madame Clara went out twice after supper—I went to bed about 9.30 or 9.45—I think the prisoner and the lady came to the house together—a tall thin gentleman came "with them and helped with their box—I do not know his name—at the end of the week the prisoner and the girl went away—I cannot say whether they went together—they paid Miss Clara for the room they occupied."
Cross-examined. I never saw the lady leave or come into the house in the evening.
CLOTHILDE PALIANO . I am the wife of Charles Paliano, of 4, May's Buildings, St. Martin's Lane—I let lodgings—the prisoner came on June 4th alone and asked me for a room for himself and his wife—I agreed to let him a room furnished for 12s. a week—we had other lodgers, quite respectable people—the same evening he came with the girl Louise Sabre and they stayed together till June 10th—they had their meals out—they used to come in at night about 11 or half past, never very late, and always together—the lady might have come in before the man once.
Cross-examined. While they were in my house they were very quiet and got on well together—I did not see the young woman go out alone.
JOHN MACARTHY (Police Inspector.) I received information from the Paris Police and in consequence on June 10th, about 10.-30 a.m. I went to 4, May's Buildings, the house kept by the last witness—I found the girl Louise Sabre in bed alone—the prisoner was not there—I took her to New Scotland Yard leaving two inspectors in charge of the premises—I searched the room and found some papers relating to the French Army—in New Scotland Yard I put questions to the girl and wrote down her story for the purpose of obtaining a warrant—the prisoner was brought to Scotland
Yard about 1 o'clock the same day—I spoke to him in French—he told me his name and address, 57, Frith Street—I produced the papers I had found in the room to him and asked him if they were his—he said, "Yes," speaking in French all the time—I cautioned him—I said, "You have been brought here on suspicion of having brought a young girl over here for the purpose of prostitution"—he said, "I do not know any young girl"—I brought the girl into the room and said to her, "Connez vous cet homme?"—she said, "Yes, it is he who brought me over from Paris"—he said, "I do not know her"—I sent her out of the room and then he said, as a sort of afterthought, "Yes, I know her"—he then went on to make a statement which I wrote down in French—he said, "I only know her by having met her in London; she is a prostitute and I gave her half a crown each time I went with her"—I told him later that I had a warrant for his arrest—it was read to him—he said in French, "It is possible this girl came here to be a prostitute, but it was not I who brought her; I have been here only ten days, it is not possible I could have done that; I have known her as a prostitute and have given her once 10s., once 5s. and another time 3s."—he was taken to the police station and charged.
Cross-examined. He was somewhat nervous at first—he was very impudent later.
THE RECORDER considered that the prosecution failed for want of corroboration under the 48 and 49 Victoria, chap. 69, section 2, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, July 24th, 1903.
Before MR. JUSTICE LAWRENCE.
MR. A. GILL and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. ELLIOTT and MR. WATSON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL for the prosecution offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
HARRY JOHN WILLIAM MATTHEWS . I am an omnibus conductor of 7, Ma gee Street—about 12.30 a.m. on July 10th I was standing outside my house—I saw the deceased having a quarrel with some men opposite my gate—the other men have nothing to do with this case; they drove away and the deceased continued to shout after them—he then commenced walking after them, banging his stick on the railings—he turned into
some mews—he was making a great disturbance—the prisoner is a neighbour of mine—I know him—he came out of his house and asked the deceased to desist from the noise he was making, and said something about a child being ill—the deceased refused to stop, at the same time using some foul language—he was flourishing with the intent, as far as I could see, to hit the prisoner on the head—in trying to ward the stick off the prisoner gave the deceased a back hander, and he fell to the ground—the prisoner went into his own house—the deceased got up and came towards me, flourishing his stick, and said, "You knocked me down,"—he had had enough to drink—I said, "Don't you come for me with your stick or I might push you"—the prisoner came out of his house and went towards Kennington Road, which was in the opposite direction to that in which the deceased was going—the deceased then followed him, shouting "You knocked me down" at the top of Maga Street—the deceased argued the point with the prisoner as to who had knocked him down, at the same time flourishing his stick—without any hesitation he threw it to the ground and made a sudden grab at the prisoner with his open hand—I was close by—the prisoner warded him off and he fell on the pavement—someone picked him up, I do not know who—he was bleeding slowly from the back of his head—I stayed there until I saw a constable come up, when the deceased was taken away.
At the suggestion of Mr. Justice Lawrence, the Jury here returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
WILLIAM BAMSEY . (Police Inspector.) I live at. 23, Heath Gardens, Twickenham—the prisoner lived next door to me with his wife—at 1.30 a.m. on May 11th I was awakened by screamsf rom a female—I opened my window and saw the prisoner's wife standing on the footway in her dressing gown—she spoke to me and I at once went out of doors—I went into the house with her, where she made a further statement to me—she was standing on the landing and I saw a quantity of blood on her night dress and a gash in her throat—I found the prisoner on the floor in the back bedroom with his throat cut and a quantity of blood round him—there was a razor lying by his side and I found another one with a broken handle on the mantelshelf—I got someone to blow my whistle and send for medical aid—the prisoner was a clerk in the post office.
Cross-examined. He is a thoroughly respectable man—he has been in the post office for seventeen years—I know him and his wife personally—I have never known them to have an angry word—they always got on well together—the prisoner has been ill on one or two occasions—I know he had an attack of influenza, and I heard he had been in a very depressed condition—I had seen him during the day in the garden—I did not notice anything particular about him then.
Twickenham—on Sunday, May 10th. we went to bed about 9.45 p.m.—I was awakened about 1.30 a.m.; I do not know what by—I saw my husband standing beside me—he had his hand in mine and a razor in the same hand—I broke the razor and he ran out of the room—before he went I asked him what he was doing—he said, "Hold your noise"—I got out of bed before he ran into the next room—I called for assistance out of the window—I then went into the next room and saw my husband lying on the floor with his throat cut—Mr. Bamsey came in and a doctor—I then found that my throat was cut—I did not realise it until the doctor was sent for—I was afterwards taken to the hospital—as a rule the razors were kept on the mantelshelf in the scullery—these (Produced) are the ones.
Cross-examined. I have quite recovered now—at the police court I said I had no desire to prosecute my husband—he has always been a good husband to me and a good father to the children—since February, when he had influenza, he has been in a very depressed condition—he has been feeling very ill—he could not get, much sleep because of the twins who slept in our room—they are nine months old now—we have never had an unbroken night's rest since they were born—on May 10th we went to bed on perfectly good terms—he was feeling very ill, and he had been ill all the week—he went to work on the Friday, and on Saturday he "went in the morning, but had to come home after he had been at work for about an hour—when he got home he seemed too ill to take any notice of anything—he only seemed to want to He down—he said they had put him on the sick list at the Post Office—all Sunday he seemed ill—he went to bed at 9.45—his head ached all day—we had no quarrel and no trouble other than his being ill.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer at Brixton Prison—the prisoner has been under my charge and observation since July 2nd at "Brixton—I have studied the depositions in this case—whilst he has been under my observation he appears to have been quite sane, although he. Has felt his position.
Cross-examined. He told me he suffered from influenza in February, and that after that, he had suffered a great deal from pains in his head, and that it was a long time before he got over it—he said his sleep had frequently been disturbed, that he felt very ill from it, but that he had been at work—he said that when he was taken ill he felt languid and depressed, that he thought it was a bilious attack, but that he had continued his work as long as he could—he said he had consulted the official doctor, who had put him on the sick list, that he had pains all over, and was very depressed in his mind—he said that on the Sunday night he recollected going to bed about 9.45, but that he had no other recollection until he came to himself on the following day in the hospital—I have seen nothing in the evidence to contradict what he has said—I cannot discover or hear of any motive for his action—a common form of insanity is melancholia—depression is the leading feature of it—it not infrequently leads to crime and violence, and afterwards perhaps a man remembers nothing about it—it is a mental disease, and is a recognised form of insanity," but it is one from which a patient in time may completely recover
—influenza predisposes to that condition of mind, if a man is tending that way influenza would be likely to aggravate it—I think that the evidence points to the prisoner on May 10th to have been suffering from a gradually-increasing attack of melancholia, which culminated in this attack—I think he was not in a condition to understand the nature and quality of his act—I was called in on behalf of the Crown.
Re-examined. He told me he had been in the Post Office for seventeen years, rising from one grade to another—he did not say that he had shown any indication of insanity before, except that he had been depressed at times—my opinion is based on the absence of any motive or purpose in his act and on the history of his illness.
By the COURT. In all probability, if he went to the sea side for a time that would be sufficient to enable him to regain his health—I think he is hardly likely to commit such an offence again.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding . Discharged on his own recognisances.
NEW COURT.—Friday and Saturday, July 24th and 25th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
613. PIERRE DUBOIS , otherwise DIBON (26) , Unlawfully carnally knowing Susanne Laurent, a girl above thirteen and under sixteen, and ARMAND DIBON (32), aiding and abetting him in the same. Second Count, Unlawfully suffering the said girl to be upon his premises for the purpose of being unlawfully carnally known; Third Count, against both, prisoners for conspiracy to commit the said misdemeanours.
LOUISE LAURENT (Interpreted.) I am a chamber maid at an hotel, 206, Rue de Rivoli, Paris—Susanne Laurent is my daughter—she was born on September 21st, 1887—this is her birth certificate—I have seen the prisoner Dubois once at the end of September or the beginning of October last year in Paris at the corner of Rue de St. Lucien, when I was waiting for my daughter outside a house where she had gone on an errand—when she came out he followed with his eyes—I said, "I beg your pardon, Sir, you seem to want to look at my little girl"—he said, "Oh no, Madame, I look for somebody in the coffee house; allow me to go to your place and we can speak more freely; you must know I am not first come, I am employed at the Bank of France; allow me when I meet her to speak to her"—I said, "Be careful, Sir, if I should meet you, I would box the ears of both of you, because my daughter is not yet fifteen years of age"—then the interview was long enough, and I went off home with my daughter—she was dressed in a short black skirt, a long pinafore, a school girl's sash, and her hair was down her back—she did a few hours' embroidery at home—I had not my present situation then.
Cross-examined. She was baptised Susanne Louise Laurent at the church of Notre Dame she was sent to nurse forty days, and then christened—I am a Roman Catholic—I have had no other child—I have
not been married—she left me on April 20th—I did not know she was living with a man in Paris, I looked for her, but she could not be found—I advised the police of her absence, and this is their reply—I did not know that other gentlemen were after her, some people have been after her, but I kept her very strictly, and did not allow her to come back five minutes after her time to come—she speaks with everybody—I am sure Dubois is the man I spoke to—when I was informed that she was in London I kept his photograph in my eyes—I saw him at the police office, in a Court, like this; immediately I came in I recognised him with the photograph in my eyes.
SUSANNE LAURENT (Interpreted.) The last witness is my mother—I lived with her at 22, Rue de la Banque, Paris, up to April last—on June 12th I was taking a walk when Pierre Dubois offered me something to drink, then he proposed to me to come with him to London—I was not dressed as I am now, I was in working dress—my hair is done up now to look more elderly—I was not in employment—after some refreshment I spent the rest of the day with him—at night I went to his house to sleep with him—in the night I had connection with him—we talked of making a pleasure trip to London—I stayed one night with him, and we went by Dieppe and Newhaven to London—I wore my working clothes—at the railway station in London we met Armand Dibon—we got in a cab and drove to a house I now know as Mr. Dibon's, in Portland Street—I there saw Madame Dibon—I stayed there till the evening—I took a rest—I undressed and dressed again and arranged myself after the journey—I dressed in other clothes which Dibon had bought (Directions were given for the clothes to be sent for.)—I put on the things Pierre gave me—that lady (Madame Garcia) came about 10 p.m., and we left for her, apartments with Pierre—I slept with Pierre that night—in the night the same connection occurred as before—in the morning I went to Portland Street with Armand Dubois—I met him in the street—I was with Pierre—I went with Armand alone—at Portland Street the police came—before we left for London I told Pierre I was eighteen years of age, but when we were at the station leaving Paris I told him I was not sixteen—he said it would not matter, I had only to say I was eighteen years of age, like I had said before—I replied, "Yes, I will do so."
Cross-examined. This paletot is from home—my mother bought my hat in London and my dress—my mother has told me about talking to a man, but I can not say it was Pierre—I lived with M. Marseille for about five weeks after leaving my mother in April—he was a tailor—I looked after his house—at first I lived with a young girl, and then lived alone—I left Marseille because he knocked me—I had made some economies when I was with Marseille—I did not go home because I was afraid my mother would lock me up—I never walked the Boulevards in the evening—I have said I was on the streets, but it was not true; I said it for the benefit of Dubois, and I now say the truth—before I was afraid, but now I am not afraid—I was afraid my mother would look for me, and therefore I said I was eighteen—Pierre asked my age the following day, and I said eighteen, but the next morning I told him my true age, fifteen.
Cross-examined. He had seven rooms—to sub-let he would have to get my consent—I saw a Mrs. Dibon there—that is all.
CLEO GARCIA (Interpreted.) I am a music hall artist at the Alhambra—I live at 21, Oxford Mansions—Armand Dibon used to come there to deliver wines—on Sunday, June 14th, I went and lunched with him and Pierre Dubois—I had spoken to. Armand before, but he was not with Pierre—I stayed at Great Portland Street till after dinner—I saw Susanne Laurent there but did not pay any attention to her—she sat near Pierre,—Armand did not tell me about Laurent, and I did not ask him as it does not concern me—when preparing to go Armand said, "I have no room for my brother who came from Paris this morning, could you give him a lodging till to-morrow morning, he has no place to sleep—not seeing any inconvenience I gave him that hospitality, and the next morning he left at 8 o'clock—I and my servant live in my flat—I have four or five rooms—I did not pay any attention to the young girl who was with Pierre—after luncheon she pretended to be tired and went to rest, and I played dominoes with Armand—I did not ask about the girl because I do not like to occupy myself with things that do not concern me—I took a carriage and we went home because it was raining—all three went in a hansom—the journey was not long, and as soon as we came home Pierre went with the girl in the room and I went to my room—I have only two beds—in the morning they left together.
Cross-examined. The girl did not ask my age; I asked her age—she replied 18 1/2—I imagine I am older—I am not a judge of girls' ages.
THOMAS MURPHY (Detective Officer.) On Sunday, June 14th, in conesquence of a telegram from Newhaven, I was at Victoria Station at 7.50, when the Continental boat train arrived from Newhaven with passengers from Dieppe—Armand Dibon was waiting on the platform—he engaged a four-wheeled cab previous to the train's arrival—on its arrival he met the girl Laurent and Pierre Dubois and another man and greeted them in French—the girl was dressed in a white straw hat trimmed with black, and dirty shabby clothing—they got into the four-wheel cab—I procured a cab and followed them to 201, Great Portland Street where all the persons entered—I telegraphed to my superior at Scotland Yard, and was relieved by other officers.
Cross-examined. To the best of my recollection the girl had on a greyish jacket—this is not it (One the girl wore when called.)—this is new.
FRANK FREDERICK HOLLAMBY . I am a clerk in the Accountant General's Department of the General Post Office—I produce under subpoena a copy of a telegram in French (Addressed to Dubois, 201, Great Portland Street from "Ademar" for Dubois to be at Victoria Station to meet the boat train: it contained the expression, "Have received money")
Carlin—I had been to the house on the 14th—I had seen Armand before, and the woman who passed as Madame Dibon—on this Monday I saw Armand enter the house with the girl Laurent—I knocked at the door after he had entered—I asked for him—he came forward—I asked for Mrs. Dibon in French—he replied in English—he has been in this country nearly ten years—I took a note of the conversation—I first asked to speak to him privately—he said, "It is private here"—I said, "We are police officers and are making enquiries about a young girl who was brought from France yesterday morning. We have a suspicion that she was brought to this house"—he said, "There is no girl here at all, the only females in the house are my wife and the servant"—I said, "You were seen to meet a man whom I believe to be your brother, yesterday morning at Victoria Station—your brother had a young girl with him, and there is reason to believe that she is being brought here for the purpose of prostitution"—he said, "No, no: no girl has been brought over here at all; I went to Victoria Station to meet my brother, but the woman who was with us was my wife. My brother had come from Egypt"—I said, "I am sure the girl is here; I have just seen her come in with you. A watch has been kept on the house"—he said, "It is a mistake, the woman who came in with me is my wife"—I said, "I am sure the girl is here, and I am going to look in all the rooms of the house"—I went into several rooms—Armand led the way—he took me to two basement rooms, kitchens—among others I went into a room on the first floor, used as a bedroom—I saw the girl Laurent and a woman, who the prisoner said was his wife, in Armand's presence—I endeavoured to question Laurent in French, but it was impossible to get any statement because Armand was excited and kept interrupting and abusing the girl—he called her a "salle vache," "which means a. dirty cow, and used other horrid expressions of that kind—eventually finding it impossible to get any statement from the girl, I told her I should take her to Scotland Yard, and asked Armand to come with me—starting to come down stairs Pierre was coming in at the front door—he walked in and was coming up stairs, but turned and bolted, but Carlin stopped him—I took them to Scotland Yard—on the way Armand said in English, "My brother got her from a man in Paris, I suppose you will want him also"—I asked him who the man was, and his address, in Paris—he replied, "My brother will give you his address, he is still in Paris"—at Scotland Yard I took Armand into one room and the girl into another where I took her statement with great difficulty—upon that statement I got a warrant at Bow Street against both prisoners—I read and explained the warrant in French and English to the prisoners—Pierre replied in French, and I took his statement down as he said it—this is a translation of it, "I want to explain the thing to you. I have come from Egypt; I arrived in Paris at 5 o'clock last Thursday evening, and met the girl the next day about 3 o'clock. I asked her to have something to drink, and told her that I was—leaving for London the next day. She said she would be happy to come with me. She said that she was a young girl and that she had no parents. She said that she was more than eighteen
years of age. The next day she told me she had a mother but no father, and that she had not seen her mother for the past two months"—Dibons replied, "I received a letter last Saturday from my brother asking me to meet him at Victoria Station, and saying he was coming with a friend. I went to Victoria and saw my brother, who introduced the girl to me saying she was his new wife—my brother asked me if I had a room to spare, but I had none—he stayed at my place, but went away at night to sleep at a place in Wells Street, I do not know the number, it is over a greengrocer's shop. It belongs to a man I know, who had some rooms to let"—then he asked, "What is there against me?"—I know the woman who lives with Armand is a prostitute, and that she has been convicted as such—the second woman in the house is also a prostitute—she is living in a room let to her and a man, by the prisoner Dubois—I have no evidence of her conviction, but she is known to me.
Cross-examined. I do not produce the conviction against the woman who lives with Armand—I have sent for it—I cannot give you more than the statement which has been read—it is part of the information upon which the warrant was granted—I know Pierre went to Egypt, why he went, with whom he went, which way he sailed, and when he arrived in London.
FRANCIS CARLIN (Detective Sergeant). On June 15th I was keeping observation on 201, Great Portland Street—about 11 a.m. I saw Dibon leave the house with a man and come back about 12.30' with a girl—a few minutes afterwards I went into the house with Inspector McCarthy—I have heard and agree with his account of what happened there—I was present in the front room when McCarthy, tried to speak to the girl—I said to Dibon, "That is the girl I saw you come in with some time ago—he said, "Yes, there was a woman there"—I stopped Dubois at the door—he tried to bolt—I had seen him before—he knew me—after he had been charged I went back with another officer to 201, Great Portland Street—there are seven rooms, four are occupied—in the two bedrooms and in the kitchen I found indecent drawings (Produced)—some were on the walls—some photographs were in frames—I saw Madame Dubois—she passes as Armand's wife—I know her as a prostitute.
MR. ABINGER submitted that there was no case against Dibon; the word was "ami" or a male friend, in the telegram to meet the train, and the other word "argent "was meant for "urgent; "that the male friend was Dubois, and the telegram signed "Ademar" was from Ademar Bretze, the man who came with him to Victoria; that with regard to the Second Count there was no evidence of any act contrary to Section 6 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act; that Dibon induced or knowingly suffered the girl to be on his premises for the purposes named in the Act; or that he knew of Pierre Dubois intention; and that the parties did not remain at Armand Dibons' house, but went away to sleep. THE COURT held that there was evidence on the First and Third Counts only, to go to the Jury.
Dubois in his defence on oath repeated in substance his statement to the police, and added that meeting the girl on the streets in Paris he desired to save her from, and not send her back to prostitution.
Dibon, in his defence on oath, also repeated his statement to the police, and stated that he had lived in London about eight years as an assistant to a pork butcher and as a chef; he denied that he said of the girl, "My brother got her from a man in Paris," or "I suppose you will want him also," and stated that he met the train, as he was anxious to see his brother again, not having spoken to him for two years; but that he had nothing to do with his brother Pierre's relations with the girl.
GUILTY on the First and Third Counts , and
NOT GUILTY on the Second. The police stated that their inquiries showed that the prisoners were systematically engaged in this business, which is known as the "White Slave traffic." Two years' hard labour each. THE RECORDER commended the police for the admirable manner in which they had conducted their inquiries and expressed a desire that something might be done to save the girl.
614. WALDEMAR MARTINI (31), PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an endorsement on an order for the payment of £7 10s., with intent to defraud; also to unlawfully and carnally knowing Mary Berling, a girl aged 15 years and 11 months, and GUSTAVE REINHOLD BUCKS (34), and CLARA BUCKS (36) , to unlawfully and knowingly allowing Mary Berling to be on their premises for the purposes of being unlawfully and carnally known by Waldemar Martini . Martini was stated to have lived on the prostitution of women since he came to this country seven years ago. MARTINI— Five years' penal servitude on the felony indictment, and two years' hard labour on the misdemeanor, to run concurrently. G. R. BUCKS— Six months' hard labour. CLARA BUCKS— Three months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(617) JOHN WILLIAMS (33) , to attempting to steal 2s., the money of Alfred William Huxtable. Five previous convictions were proved against him . Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(618) GEORGE PAINTER (18), and THOMAS THOROGOOD (18) , to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Richard Stanley—Judsum and stealing a watch and other articles his property, having both been convicted of felony at Chelmsford on February 18th, 1903. Four other convictions were proved against Painter and one against Thorogood . PAINTER— Eighteen months' hard labour; THOROGOOD— Three months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(619) WILLIAM NICHOLAS (30) , to stealing a watch and chain, the property of Thomas Catherine, in his dwelling house. He received an excellent character. Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
620. THOMAS CLARK (16), BENJAMIN JOHNSON (15), ALICE COX (19), and MAGGIE CLARK (18), Breaking and entering the warehouse of Walter Hookway and Sons and stealing five sunshades and twenty yards of calico, their property. Second count, receiving the same property well knowing it to be stolen. THOMAS CLARK and JOHNSON PLEADED GUILTY and also to stealing and receiving sixty-six packets of cigarettes and other articles, the property of Ralph Evangelesty and others Thomas Clark having been convicted of felony at Stratford on September 19th, 1902.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.,
HENRY STAINS . I am an engineer, of 17, Hawthorn Road, Hoe Street, Walthamstow, and am employed by Hookway and Sons, Forest Works, Forest Road, Walthamstow—on June 29th I fastened up the premises and left all safe—at 6.30 a.m., on June 30th, I went there and found a knife inside the premises which had been broken into and ransacked—a desk had been forced and a large number of things were taken away.
ANNA PETTIFORM . I live at 166, Northcote Road, Walthamstow, and am manageress to Hookway and Company—these five sunshades (Produced) are our property—they are new—four of them are worth. 4s. 6d. each and one 2s. retail—they were made at our City branch in Monkham Street—I also identify these blouses and this calico as ours—I know the calico is ours by the quality—the blouses are worn by the employees when they are working.
GEORGE DAY . These two sunshades were pawned with me on July 1st for 1s. each, and a piece of calico and a blouse for 1s. 6d., all in the name of Jane Clark, by the female prisoners—I identify the prisoners and produce the tickets.
ELIZABETH ASH . I am the wife of George Ash, of 13, Leyton Road—the female prisoners lodged there—12, Mayer Road is a small turning at the back of our road, but the prisoners did not live there—on June 30th Thomas Clark called at 12 o'clock—he said he had a large parcel, but he could not leave it if his sister was out—he went away and came again at three and at five—the prisoners were still out—at five o'clock I told him to leave the parcel upstairs in their room—the prisoners came in after five o'clock—Thomas Clark came again at 8 o'clock—he went up to the prisoners' room and all of them went out together—I did not see whether they took anything with them.
WILLIAM KNOTT (Detective Officer.) At 11 a.m., on July 2nd, I went with Detective Lee to 13, Leyton Road, Stratford—I found the female prisoners in bed—I said to Cox, "We are police officers and I am going to take you into custody for stealing a number of blouses, sunshades, and some calico, the property of Messrs. Hookway"—she said, "I met Tom Clark in the Leyton Road on the 30th of last month, and I asked him where he got the stuff from that he had left at our place; he said, 'I got them from some ladies where I have been'"—I understood that she meant where he had been to work—she added, "Clark gave me a pawn ticket and gave Maggie a pawn ticket"—I searched the room and found the whole of the property produced, with the exception*of two blouses—there were not fifty yards of calico there—I afterwards charged the prisoners.
Cross-examined by Cox. You were in bed when I got to your room—it was about a minute before you answered when I knocked at the door—I could see through the crack that you were both in your night dresses—I sent round to the back of the house so that nothing should be disposed of out of the window—I waited about ten minutes and then said, "If you don't dress I shall come in"—I waited again and then said, "If you don't put anything round your shoulders I shall come in."
JOHN LEE . (Detective Sergeant N.) On July 2nd, at 11 a.m., I was with Knott when he went to Leyton Road—I said to Clark, "You will be charged with being concerned with Cox in stealing and receiving these articles"—she said, "We were out when they were brought here; I met my brother Thomas in Leyton Road yesterday; I asked him where he got them from; he told me he got them from a lady's house at Woodford, where he goes round buying rags and bones."
Cox in her defence said that Thomas Clark said that he had got the clothes by working for them at Woodford and Chingford, and that they told him afterwards that they had pawned them, and that they did not know they were stolen.
Clark in her defence said that her brother had told them that he had got the clothes by going round to ladies' houses, working and "ragging and boneing" for them, and that they thanked him for them, and made him a present of a pair of boots.
COX and MAGGIE CLARK NOT GUILTY .
A previous conviction was proved against Thomas Clark.
CLARK and JOHNSON— Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrence.
MR. WARDE Prosecuted.
SILAS PLUMMER . I am a stevedore's labourer—I have known the deceased some years—I have worked with him for the Prince Line as a stevedore—he was a very steady man—on Tuesday, June 23rd, we started work at one o'clock—I saw him at 10.30 that evening at the Royal Albert public house, Freemasons' Road, Custom House, with a man named Bailey—we had a couple of glasses of ale together—I went to the back and left him standing at the corner of the bar—when I came back I found him on the pavement senseless—he could not speak—Cosgrove and I took him to his home at 95, Garbarry Road—he was still senseless—I helped to get him upstairs to bed—when I left him he was sober.
I was in the Royal Albert public house about 10.30 with Mrs. Parmenter and the deceased man Ellis—we laughed about something—the prisoner who was standing with his back to the window while we were talking, struck Mrs. Parmenter—he said she was laughing at him—she said no, she was not—soon after, as she turned to speak to me he hit Ellis on the left side of his eye—he put his hand up and said he was dazed—the prisoner struck him another blow—he fell, and the back of his head struck the floor on the passage—they did not speak to each other—the prisoner stepped across the body and went out of the bar—the deceased was taken outside.
EMMA PARMENTER . I was in this public house on June 23rd—the prisoner asked me who I was laughing at and who I was taking the rise out of—I said, "God forbid, I would be the last one to take the rise out of anybody"—I turned my back to him—directly after that I saw him strike Ellis, who put his hand to his head—then the prisoner struck him again and he fell in the passage—the prisoner stepped over him and walked out of the house—I knew Ellis.
GRACE-EDWARDS, I saw the prisoner strike Ellis on the left side of his face and on the right side of his forehead—Ellis fell in the passage.
HENRY PARSONS . I am a labourer—I saw the prisoner in this public house strike Ellis twice, once was on his forehead, and the blood ran down his cheek—I was about three feet off—Ellis fell at the second blow flat on his back on the tiled pavement in the passage—the prisoner stepped over his body and went away—I did not see them speak together.
ELIZA BAKER . I am a widow—on June 23rd I was in the Royal Albert public house—I saw the prisoner strike Ellis twice—Ellis had not spoken to the prisoner during the two or three minutes I was there—Ellis fell with his head on the pavement—the prisoner stepped over him and went out at the door.
ELIZABETH BEARD . I am married—on June 23rd I was in the Royal Albert public house—I saw the prisoner strike Ellis twice on his face—after the second blow Ellis staggered back and fell—I did not hear a word—the prisoner stepped or jumped over Ellis and went out.
HENRY CHALLIS . I am potman at the Royal Albert public house—on June 23rd, about 11 p.m., I was getting ready to close the house—I heard a woman shriek—I went round to the private bar in Freemasons' Road—I saw the deceased lying on the floor in the passage with his head towards the door—I assisted to take him outside and put him on the pavement.
SAMUEL COSGROVE . I am a labourer—on June 23rd I was in the Royal. Albert public house—I heard a noise, and went outside—I saw Ellis lying on the pavement—with assistance I leaned him against the partition between the two doors—two policemen came up—one asked for some water—I assisted Plummer to carry Ellis to his house—seeing everything was right I left him there in charge of his daughter and Plummer.
JANET JONES . I am the wife of William Jones—the deceased was my father—he lived with me at 95, Garbarry Road—he was fifty-two years of age—he was a stevedore's labourer—mother is in a lunatic asylum—on June 23rd he went out about 9 p.m.—I saw no more of him till he was
brought home about 11 p.m. by Plummer and Cosgrove, bleeding from his eye and mouth—his eye was swollen and almost closed—he was in a helpless condition—the men who were with him were sober—he sat in a chair when he first came in—I bathed his face and took off his shoes, and got him to bed with the men's assistance—when he sat in a chair he said, "Who did this?"—after that he did not seem to say much—I stayed up with him till 2 a.m.—he vomitted during the night—about 2 a.m. I went to my own room—about 4.30 I heard him out of bed—I went to his assistance, and found him struggling to get back again—I could not lift him up, so I got a pillow for his head, laid him on the floor, covered him with a blanket and quilt—I was alone—I called a neighbour in—I stayed with him till 8 a.m.—I left him to get my brother to school—my father seemed to breathe very heavily at 4.30, as if he had gone off into a sound sleep—just before nine I went to him again—he seemed warm when I felt him—he was dead I expect—he just looked staring—I fetched Dr. Taylor—I had not sent for him before that.
WILLIAM CHARLES TAYLOR . I am a registered medical practitioner—on June 24th I was sent for to 95, Garbarry Road—I arrived about ten o'clock—I found the man Ellis lying in front of the fireplace on his right side, with his head resting on a pillow—he was dead—his face was covered with blood, and there was blood on the pillow about the size of the palm of a hand—I could not then certify the cause of death—on June 25th, under the Coroner's instructions, I made a post mortem examination—I found he was a large powerful man, about 5 ft. 7 in. in height—he was strong, healthy, and well nourished, probably weighing about 14 stone—his face being washed disclosed a cut at the inner edge of the left eye, the upper eyelid; and another along the edge of the lower eyelid—neither penetrated to the bone—there was a cut on the right angle of the mouth on the upper lip and a cut on the lower lip—there was no fracture of the skull, ribs, or any of the long bones—on examining the skull and opening the dura I found a large amount of hoemorrhage along the whole side of the left hemisphere—the spheroidal lobe was ruptured, and a large clot of blood, nearly as large as an egg, was projecting from the brain—on removing the brain, and washing away the blood, I found the whole of the tissues in the vicinity of the rupture very much bruised, due to small hoemorrhages—the blood filled a considerable part of the left sphere of the skull cavity—lifting the dura on the left side there was no sign of any fracture—later the orbit was opened to investigate the injuries he had received there, and it was found that he had received a fracture of the nasal bone on the left side running from the margin up to the crest and another fracture of the lower orbital plate—the eye appeared uninjured, but the tissues underneath the eye were all infiltrated with blood—from the outside there was nothing to indicate the cause of death—the whole of the internal organs, the lungs, heart, and so forth, were those of a fairly healthy strong man for fifty-two years of age, and there was nothing exceptional except that the heart was two ounces heavier than is usual—one of the kidneys was slightly diseased—he was fairly healthy for his age—the cause of death was "compression by hoemorrhage, due to rupture of the blood vessels, due to concussion
received in the fall on the floor—the injuries were quite consistent with his having had two violent blows in the face—the injury to the brain was caused by the fall on the pavement.
EDWARD STEWART (Police Inspector K.) At eleven o'clock on June 24th I went to 95, Carbarry Road—I saw the deceased—I afterwards looked for the prisoner—about 1.30 a.m. on 25th I went to 24, Janet Road, Custom House—up stairs in one of the bedrooms I saw the prisoner in bed—he said, "Come in, Sir, I am the man you want; he called me a bastard, and I struck him a back-hander in the face; he struck his head against the counter and fell down. I did not hit him again"—I took him to the station—he made no reply when he was charged.
WILLIAM FORD (K 89). I went with Stewart to arrest the prisoner—we took him to the station—on the way he said, "I came home and had my tea; I did not go out again, as I expected you would have been after me: I wish I had given myself up now"—I conveyed him to the station, where he was charged—he made no reply.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he had no intention of hilling the man, but he fell against the partition before he reached the ground, and that it was through his calling him a bastard that he hit him.
GUILTY .—He had been convicted of assault at North Woolwich on February 4th, 1901. Eighteen months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. FRIEND Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
NOT GUILTY ,
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. DAVENPORT Prosecuted.
MAY HODGKISS . I am the wife of William. Hodgkiss, of 1, Millwall Street, Woolwich—on November 11th, 1897, I was present at the Woolwich District Registry Office, when the prisoner was married to McCaffery of the Royal Artillery—he went to South Africa.
JAMES JOSEPH LEISK . I am a sergeant in the Army Service Corps', stationed at Aldershot—on March 21st, 1901, I went through the ceremony of marriage with the prisoner at the Registry Office, Woolwich—I had known her nearly twelve months in the name of Sims—she told me afterwards she was the widow of McCaffery—I went to South Africa with my corps in that month, March—when I returned I met the prisoner on Plumstead Bridge, and found that she was living with McCaffery at 4, Station Road."—
—I told her I should take her into custody for committing bigamy with James Joseph Leisk—she replied, "Quite right, my husband went abroad in December, 1899. I received two letters not signed. My papers were returned; I thought he was dead; I was surprised to meet him at the Ordnance public house in April last; I did not tell him I was married again, I did not know what to do. I have been living with him since"—I produce the two certificates.
The prisoner, in her defence, said that she believed her husband was dead.
The husband stated that he was willing to take her back. To enter into recognisances.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. J. CAMPBELL Prosecuted.
JOHN TOMKINS . I am a dairyman of 9, Alexandra Road, Wimbledon—on June 1st, about 4 p.m., I was lying on my bed—I heard a noise, and went down stairs, and saw a man named Arthur Bennett in the passage—he was afterwards convicted at Kingston, and sentenced to three years' penal servitude—I tried to get hold of him in the passage—we got outside—he called out, "Let me go, you are choking me"—I was holding him by the coat, and not by his throat—the prisoner came up and said, "Let the man go, you are choking him"—I said, "Do you know this man?"—she walked away—I afterwards picked her out from three or four other women.
ADA KATE LEACH . I live at 5, Alexandra Road, Wimbledon—No. 5 is on the same side as No. 9—on June 1st, about 4.30 p.m., I was in my front room—I saw the prisoner and a man pass No. 9—the man hesitated, and touched the gate—he did not try it—the woman walked past four or five times—she went towards No. 9—she was walking up and down about fifteen minutes—I went away from the window—presently I heard a disturbance in the front—I went outside, and saw the prosecutor struggling with a man on the ground—the prisoner passed the gate quickly—I am sure she is the woman—I picked her out afterwards.
HARRIET DIM MOCK . I live at 6, Alexandra Road, Wimbledon—No. 9 is on the same side—on June 1st I was sitting in my front bedroom—I saw the prisoner walking up and down as if waiting for somebody—I had seen a man going by—he touched my gate—he then went towards No. 9—I heard a noise—I opened my window—I saw two bicycles and a man on the ground—it looked like a bicycle accident—the prisoner was hurrying by my house—she passed several times—I identified her at the station about a fortnight ago.
WILLIAM FYFE (459 V.) On June 1st, about 4.45, I arrested Arthur Bennett—after taking him to the station I went to the prosecutor's house—I found the front door had been tampered with, and the back window forced open—at No. 32 I found a jemmy concealed under a hedge—it appeared to be the instrument with which the entrance was effected.
WILLIAM MARTIN (87 V.) I examined No. 9, Alexandra Road—I found five fresh marks on the front door—an entry had been effected by forcing the back kitchen window—I compared the marks with the jemmy which was found; they corresponded—Bennett was sentenced at Kingston on June 30th—the prisoner was arrested on July 3rd.
FREDERICK PIKE (Detective Sergeant.) On July 3rd I was keeping observation at Wandsworth Prison—at 2.15 the prisoner called, giving the name of Mrs. Bennett, 14, Charlotte Street, Bethnal Green—that was two days before Bennett went away to a convict station—the prisoner is not his wife—when she came out I said, "Your name is Carey," she said, "It is not"—I said, "I shall arrest you for being concerned with Bennett in breaking into 9, Alexandra Road, on June 1st"—she said, "That is correct, I was with him; I did not go into the house, I was only outside crowing"—crowing is watching—"It was a bit of bad luck; we had not been out screwing for some time before that day"—that means house-breaking—I arrested her, and took her to Wimbledon police station—I placed her with four of five others, and she was picked out by the witnesses who have been here to-day—she was charged, and laughingly said, "All right."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. I plead guilty to being with him, but I had nothing whatever to do with the house breaking.
GUILTY . She then
CHARLES MARTIN . I keep the Athenaeum public house in Camberwell New Road—on June 25th I went to bed about 12.45 a.m.—just before retiring I went round the house to see that everything was properly secure—the door leading from the saloon bar into the street was locked and had four bolts, and the inner lobby was barred and bolted on the inside—between 4 and 4.30 a.m. I was called by the police—I went down stairs, and found the doors open and a constable outside—I made an investigation of the premises—three overcoats, three bottles of rum, a quantity of tobacco and cigarettes and other articles such as pies and saveloys were missing—I found that a skylight in the upper part of the house had been taken out, and there was a scaffold pole about fourteen feet long resting from the skylight to the floor of the passage—I should say that the entrance was effected that way, and then the person who did it walked out of the saloon door by undoing it from the inside—I never saw the pole before; it was brought to my premises without my
knowledge—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody—I know nothing about him—I do not believe he is a customer of mine—the police showed me the coats.
WILLIAM BOOTHEY (594 P.) On the morning of June 25th I was in the nighbourhood of Camberwell New Road on patrol duty—I saw the prisoner 300 or 400 yards from the Athenaeum, and coming away from it—the bulky appearance of his pockets made me stop him—I found a bottle of rum in his pockets, 19 half-ounce packets of tobacco, 12 cigars, two portions of pork pie, and seven saveloys—there was another man with him—when I stopped them I asked the prisoner what he had on him—he replied, "Only an empty bottle"—he did not want to show it—I told him I should like to see it—I opened his pocket and found the bottle, and while I was doing so the other man ran away—he has not been apprehended—I took the prisoner to the station and charged him—in reply to the charge he said, "You will have to prove that, Governor."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not take these coats away from you, they came from the public house—they were inside the door ready to be carried away.
CHARLES HANKS (72 P.) I know the Athenaeum public house—on June 25th, about 4.30 a.m., I found the side door leading into the street from the bar, open; I went in—I found another door open—I called the landlord, and he and I made a further investigation—the bar was in great disorder, tobacco and cigarettes were scattered about the floor, there were some half-ounce packets—there was a bundle of clothing and other property inside the door, apparently ready to be taken away"; in the passage, in which there is a skylight, there was a scaffold pole reaching from the floor to the skylight—by its means anybody could have access from the passage to the roof—in a yard close by there were a large number of poles similar to this one.
CHARLES MARTIN (Re-examined.) The tobacco and cigarettes found upon the prisoner was Falkner's Nosegay—that is the only kind I sell—I missed some cigarettes—there was food like these saveloys in the bar—these coats were—on a chair near the door.
Prisoner's defence. I was coming from Dartford, and just inside a gateway hanging on the railings I found this parcel. Being hard up I took it into my possession. I do not know any more about the breaking and entering than you do, my Lord.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Newington on August 20th, 1902, as Henry Driver. Eighteen months' hard labour. The Court and Jury commended Constable Boothey for his good conduct.
MR. COOPER Prosecuted.
HENRY ROBERT JAMES (771 W.) At 10.45 p.m. on Sunday, July 5th, I was on duty in Station Road, Merton—on passing the coal office of Messrs. Barrington and Co. I heard a sound, and saw the prisoner half-way through the window—his legs were outside and his head and shoulders
were inside—I jumped over the fence; as I did so he jumped down, and threw a glass bottle at me, which broke against the fence—as I was running after him he threw a glass ink bottle at me and knocked my helmet off—we closed; he said, "I will kill you," and again knocked my helmet off—we were then ten or twelve feet from the railway lines near a coal heap—after a time he got away—he fell down, and ran up against the buffers of an empty coal truck—it was a railway siding—I ran after him—he dragged my head under my cape, and we had a terrible struggle underneath the truck—we got up, and I said I should take him into custody for breaking into the coal office of Messrs. Barrington—he said, "You won't"—we then struggled again—he got me on to the main line, and said, "The eleven o'clock train is coming through, and we will both die together"—we struggled, and he got my cape over my head—I drew my truncheon and hit him over the head—I could hear a train coming and I could see the lights—he was very violent—I had as much as I could do—I got him off the line just as the train was coming—he said, "You won't get me now; you are only a policeman, and your life will not be safe"—I then hit him across the legs—we struggled and fell up against the trucks again—another constable then came up, and we put him on a truck because we could not get an ambulance—I never lost sight of him—at the station he said he thought there was a £60 cheque in the office, and he did not mind doing a period.
JOHN HUNT (375 W.) About 11 p.m., on Sunday, July 5th, I was on duty in Western Road, Mitcham—I heard a police whistle blown—I went in the direction of the sound—I found the prisoner and James struggling on the railway lines—I assisted in taking the prisoner to the station—I afterwards examined the ground outside the coal office of Messrs. Barrington and Co.—it had been stamped down—I 'found this knife (Produced) three yards away—the window looked as if the putty had been scraped off with something like it.
JOSEPH PASK . I am manager at the wharf of Messrs. Barrington and Co., Ltd., coal merchants—I recognise this ink bottle (Produced)—I was the last to leave the office on July 4th—I left it safely fastened up—the ink bottle was then inside.
JOHN JENKINS (94 W.) I remember the prisoner being brought to the police station—I afterwards visited the office of Messrs. Barrington and Company—I found that a pane of glass about 15in. square had been broken and a piece of wooden beading broken off—I think it could have been done by anybody's fingers—I found this glass ink bottle near the premises—I was present when the prisoner was searched at the station—he said, "This will mean penal for me"—when charged, he said, "There might have been a £60 cheque there. That ink bottle is mine, I did not take it from there, I did not throw it at the policeman."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I was drunk and do not know what I was doing."
H. R. JAMES (Re-examined.) The prisoner was sober.
The prisoner in his defence said that he was sober; that the statement before the Magistrate was not correct; that as he was walking along the road
by Merton station the policeman stopped Mm, searched Mm, and took away his papers and is. 6d., and then said, "Put them into your pocket, I am going to take you to the station,"; that he (the constable) struck Mm on his eye; that he struck the constable back because he lost his temper; that the constable then drew his staff, and struck him three times over the head with it; that while they were struggling Pask came up; that the constable said, "Hold his legs down "; that the policeman blew his whistle for about thirty minutes; that a crowd came up, and he was taken to the station; that James had twice before threatened to lock him up; that he had arrested him because he saw that the window had been broken, and because he knew he had only just come out of prison; and that what the police had said against him was wilful lies.
J. JENKINS (Re-examined by the Jury.) When James came to the station he had a swollen lip and had been kicked on the legs—he appeared to have had a severe struggle, his clothes were dirty.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Kingston on June 6th, 1903. Six other convictions were proved against him, and he had only been released on the day previous to the burglary. Five years' penal servitude.
He received a good character. Three days' imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
MR. BIGGS Prosecuted; DR. COUNSEL Defended.
JAMES WILTON . I am a dock labourer—I live at 20, Triden Street, Rotherhithe—on June 15th I was working with my brother George on a ship in the docks till two o'clock—the prisoner had been working on the Saturday—I asked him just after one oclock if he was going to work—he refused, used' a foul name, and said, "Come ashore and say what you have got to say"—I came ashore—he struck me; I retaliated—after fighting three or four minutes he got the worst of it—he picked himself up off the ground saying, "I will kill you," and went to his house—I nest saw him half an hour later, when I was going towards home, in the Plough Road, he was coming towards me—when he got opposite me he crossed the road, pulled a revolver out of his pocket, and fired five times at me—I ran after him and tried to take the revolver from him—a policeman came up and secured him—I went to the police station and told my story and was examined by the divisional surgeon—I had bullet wounds in my side, in my back just above the right loin, on the left thumb, and on the right breast—I bled freely—blood was on my clothes—I went to the hospital—I had not called the prisoner names nor provoked him—there were no words in the road on either side—he lives at 34 or 44, Cornberry Road, about a mile from the docks—it takes about half an hour to go there and back—I have known the prisoner about three years
—I have worked with him for two years—these are the clothes I wore—there is a hole in the coat and in the trousers.
Cross-examined. We were great chums—he was badly beaten and kicked some time ago—he was nervous about it—he had suffered from rheumatic fever—I have heard him say that his heart was bad at times—I did not tell him it would be a good thing to protect himself with a revolver—he told me he was going to get a revolver—I was not drunk—I had drunk four or five glasses of ale—if we both had been sober this would not have happened—in his condition I would not box him unless he struck me, then I should retaliate, I should be a coward if I did not—I swear he struck me first—I told the Magistrate that the day was wet—he is a foreman—I am senior foreman—Sweeney was there—I did not hear the prisoner ask Sweeney why he dropped the timber in the dock—it had been raining heavily all the morning, and we could not get the men to work—it was one o'clock when we called off, we worked till two—the prisoner went on shore—he might have said he could, not work—he wore a waterproof oilskin—Sweeney, my brother, and my father went to work—at two I said, "There is not enough of us, we will knock off"—I jumped over the rail—I struck the prisoner after he struck me—h had one hand in his pocket—he struck me with his right hand across the face—I had no marks—he shifted his waterproof after the first round, when I got off the ground—I did not do all the pummelling—I tripped up over a deal, and he fell on the top of me—he gripped my throat—I did not hear anyone say, "Leave him alone, he has had enough"—at the station I saw one of the prisoner's eyes was completely closed—I saw that in the Plough Road—the other was nearly closed—we had not fought before—he is a quiet chap—he gets excited at times.
GEORGE WILTON . I am a labourer, of 66, Rotherhithe New Road,—I am a brother of the last witness—I was working on June 15th with him in the docks—at 2 p.m. we knocked off—when I came up from the ship's hold I saw the prisoner and my brother fighting—the prisoner got the worst of it—when the fight was over the prisoner pointed to my brother and said, "I will kill you"—he went away—about 2.30 p.m. I went along the Plough Road with my brother—I saw the prisoner forty or fifty yards off on the opposite side of the road, coming towards us—the work was over for that day—when he got near us I saw him pull a revolver from his left pocket and fire at my brother five shots when he was two or three steps away—I followed him, but did not get too close, I was afraid of the revolver—nobody spoke in the Plough Road.
Cross-examined. The prisoner took one sleeve out of his oilskin and fought my brother, then walked a few feet away and came back again—I saw them fall together in a puddle of mud—they were fighting when I got ashore—I tried to part them—they fought two rounds—I do not know what you call a proper fight, I never had one—I did not hear the prisoner speak to Sweeney—my father was standing alongside my brother and Sweeney—my brother fell over some wood—I believe the prisoner was nearly blind after the fight he was not being beaten by my brother, they had a fair fight—during no part of the fight was the oilskin right
off—I have not heard the prisoner complain of his heart, or of fever—no one struck him excepting my brother.
JOHN CLARKE (N 244). On June 15th, about 2.30 p.m., I was in Plough Road, Rotherhithe—I hoard shots fired—I turned and saw the prisoner pointing a revolver at Wilton—he then fired three shots in quick succession—I was about thirty yards away when I heard the first two shots—I rushed up behind the prisoner and struck him on his right shoulder—I saw this revolver in his hand—he struggled for a few seconds, a constable of the Surrey Commercial Docks came to my assistance, and we secured him, disarmed him, and took him to the station—on the arrival of the prosecutor at the station the prisoner said to him, "You are b----ucky to be here."
Cross-examined. He said that of his own accord, not through anyone speaking to him.
HERBERT LAWRENCE . (Police Inspector N.) I was in charge of the Rotherhithe Police Station on June 15th, when the prisoner was brought in—James Wilton said, in his presence, "This man invited me to com ashore and fight. I came ashore, and we had a fight. He went away, and as I was walking down the Plough Road, I met him coming back with a revolver, and he fired at me three or four times, I think he has shot me in the right side of my back. He got his lot in the fight," meaning a black eye and a contusion of the nose—I said to the prisoner, "You will be charged with attempting to murder Wilton with the revolver, by shooting him"—I cautioned him, and said, "You see five cartridges have been discharged; it is a six chamber revolver, and one has miss fired"—he said, "Yes, that's mine,. I have had it three or four years; the first one "miss fired, or else he would not have been here now, it would have been a job for Billington"—the charge was read to him, he made no reply—I examined the prosecutor—I produce his clothes—he was bleeding freely from a wound on his right side—I sent for the divisional surgeon, who advised me to remove him to Guy's Hospital, where he was taken—there was-also a wound on his right breast, and his clothing was penetrated in two places, back and front—two bullets were found in his right sock—I should say the bullet that struck the chest dropped down the pants into the sock—another bullet was found in a-garden near where the affray took place—both men had been drinking—neither was drunk.
Cross-examined. One of the prisoner's eyes was blackened—both were injured, one more than the other—Wilton had a wound on the left thumb—the prisoner had a contusion on the nose, which was dressed by the divisional surgeon, but he immediately tore the plaister of! that—I know the prisoner is a very quiet, respectable, hard-working man, except when he is drunk.
FRANK WEATHERALL, M.D . I was house surgeon at Guy's Hospital on June 15th when the prosecutor was brought in—he was suffering from a punctured wound in his chest, just below the last rib on the right side—on examination by the X rays a bullet was found just in front of the last rib but one—no attempt has been made to remove it—he had a
graze on his left thumb—the punctured wound could be made by a bullet like this produced.
Evidence for the Defence.
DR. JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer at Brixton prison—I examined the prisoner on his admission on June 15th—both his eyes were much contused, the left more than the right, his nose was also contused, and a slight superficial wound was there—he was suffering from the effects of previous drinking, and an unsound heart—rheumatic fever is frequently followed by a weak heart.
Dr. Counsel said that the prisoner would make his own statement in his defence, which was that they had been good friends but had been drinking; that he asked Sweeney what he meant by letting timber drop in the dock, when Wilton said, "What's that to do with you?" called him a foul name, and jumped down and struck him; that he had one hand in his pocket and an oilskin on, and had no idea of fighting, but he was simply battered by the prosecutor, and being wild with pain and the provocation he received, he lost his head and got his revolver from the mantelshelf and met the prosecutor in the road.
GUILTY . Seven years' penal servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PURCELL prosecuted.
LEONARD EDWARD DUNK . I work for the prisoner's father, a horse dealer at Earlsfield—the prisoner also worked for his father, who put me in authority over him three days before July 10th—about two days before July 10th the prisoner said that he would stick a pitchfork into me—on July 10th, about. 10.15 p.m., I was sitting outside his father's place in the street watching the prisoner's little brother—the prisoner was standing by my side—he put a bottle in my face and threw some stuff over me—I know it was a bottle because he smashed it—the stuff went on the left side of my face and a little way into my left eye—I ran for his father—I did not touch my face, it was burning too much—he told me to get some soda water and wash it—it affected my sight—we had been working together about a fortnight—I had had no quarrel with him before I was placed over him; he had always behaved in a regular way (The prisoner here handed a paper to the Common Serjeant.)
By the COURT. I was not laughing at him or annoying him in any way or calling him names—nobody was abusing him—the stuff was burning me for an hour and a half—there are my clothes (Produced) it burnt them—my cap was on my head.
By MR. PURCELL. Hydrochloric acid is not used for any purpose at his father's place.
WILLIAM DOERR . I am errand boy at Moorgate Street and live at Earlsfield—on July 7th I was there with Dunk and the prisoner—the prisoner said, "I don't like being ordered about by anybody younger than myself, I won't do it again—I saw his hand behind him and he must
have had a bottle in it—he did not draw the cork out'—the stuff went over Dunk, who fell down—Dunk was laughing at the prisoner and said that he had lost his temper—Dunk was laughing at him all the morning and afternoon but it left off while we were at work—Dunk offered to fight him but they did not—there was no quarrelling in the street.
HENRY LEACH (340 V.) On July 10th Dunk complained to me and about 10.30 I found the prisoner in Summer Street, where he lives—I told him I should take him into custody and charge him with throwing spirits of salts over the prosecutor's face—he said, "I don't care, I will go to the station"—the inspector there charged him with throwing corrosive fluid over one Leonard Dunk—he said, "I did not throw spirits of salts, I shall not tell you what it was"—I went to the spot and picked up this neck of a bottle (Produced.)
FREDERICK HARVEY (Detective Sergeant.) I saw the prisoner at the station just before midnight and told him he was charged with throwing corrosive fluid over Dunk—he said, "It was not spirits of salts, it was a brown powder; I mixed it with water; I bought it at Chapple's at King's Cross to throw over a man because he annoyed me. I do not think I had better say any more"—he was not excited, he was very cool.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not say "I picked the bottle up."
SPENCER VERDON ROE . I am assistant to the divisional surgeon—I saw Dunk at the station after midnight—there were a number of reddish stains on his coat and cap, and a mark on his lip—I tasted some of the liquid and I believe it was hydrochloric acid, which is spirits of salts and is a corrosive fluid—no injury has been done to his face or eye because he washed it off immediately.
By the COURT. Hydrochloric acid would burn his face and clothes, and if it had not been washed off it would have done him serious harm—there is no such brown powder as he suggests—this is the sort of bottle that would be used for spirits.
Cross-examined. I heard you say that you picked the bottle up and that it was cold tea.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "The boys kept calling me names, which so aggravated me that I do not know what I did for a minute; they kept passing remarks about my appearance."
Prisoner's defence. "The hay makers gave me several glasses of beer, which I am not accustomed to, and I picked up a bottle and threw the contents of it on the prosecutor because he was annoying me by making remarks about my personal appearance; it is a wonder I did not drink it myself, as there was no label on it.
GUILTY under extreme provocation . Discharged on recognizances.
MARY ANN WICKEN . I am the widow of Henry Joseph Wicken and live at 4, Avon Place, High Street, Borough—I have five young children—my husband was thirty-one years old—I was with him and Mr. and Mrs. Reed and the prisoner's wife in the King's Head public house about 8.30 p.m. on June 27th—the prisoner came in afterwards—we had one drink each—we all then went towards the Wellington public house in Rockingham Street—on the way, the prisoner and his wife were quarrelling and were still quarrelling outside the Wellington public house—my husband told them not to quarrel and the prisoner said, "What is the matter with you?"—at the same time hitting him on the side of his face—he was about two yards away at the time—my husband fell into the gutter—I seized the prisoner and said I should hold him till a constable came—he said he would knock my f—g eye out unless I let him go—someone then told me that my husband was dead—I left go of the prisoner and rushed to my husband—he was put upon a barrow and taken to Guy's Hospital—he was always a quiet and sober man—he had not met the prisoner "before—he did not interfere in any way with the prisoner and his wife".
Cross-examined. My husband did not wave his hand at the prisoner—he had one hand in his pocket, and was holding his "pipe in his mouth with the other—it was a Saturday night, and a good number of people were about.
EMMA REED . I am the wife of James Reed, and live with him at 2, Uxbridge Place, Rockingham Street—on June 27th, about 8.30, I was with my husband and the prisoner and his wife and the deceased and his wife in the King's Head public house—we left there about nine o'clock and went to the Wellington public house, the prisoner and his wife walking behind—when we got outside the Wellington they were jangling—the deceased told them not to quarrel, and pushed the prisoner, who then hit him, knocking him down—they were about two yards apart—the prisoner moved towards the deceased and then struck him—the deceased was taken to the hospital on a barrow.
Cross-examined. I have known the Wickens some time—we have always been friendly—the prisoner and his wife have been married' two months—the whole affair happened in an instant.
JAMES REED . I am a rope maker, of 2, Uxbridge Place, Newington Causeway—I was with my wife and Mr. and Mrs. Wicken and the prisoner and his wife in the King's Head public house about 8.30 on June 27th—we left there about nine o'clock and went to the Wellington—I called "for six drinks—the others stayed outside—while I was inside I heard a noise of a man falling—I did not see the blow struck.
Cross-examined. I was a little intoxicated.
LOUISA HOUBE . I am the prisoner's wife—I was with my husband and the others in the King's Head public house about nine o'clock on Saturday, June 27th—we left about 9.30 and went to the Wellington—outside "the Wellington I was having a few words with my husband, and Mr. Wicken came up and pushed" my husband—my husband then hit him knocking him to the ground—he was standing on the edge of the
pavement at the time—he was then put on to a barrow and taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. I have been married two months—it all happened very quickly.
ETHEL STREVENS . I live with my husband at 35, Tarn Street, Newington Causeway—I am a stranger to all the witnesses in this case—I was outside the Wellington public house on June 27th, about 9.30—I saw the prisoner and his 'wife quarrelling—the deceased was standing by—he was not taking any part in the row—I heard the prisoner say something to him, and he replied, "Keep back, keep your hands off"—the prisoner then hit him a teriffic blow under the chin and knocked him into the roadway—he fell on the back of his head—I ran to his assistance—I can not say whether he was alive or dead then; blood was flowing from the back of his head—he was put on a barrow and taken to Guy's Hospital—the prisoner went away directly he had struck the deceased.
Cross-examined. There were a good many people about—the thing happened in a very short time—I was four or five yards away—the prisoner and the deceased were about two steps apart.
WILLIAM CARPENTER . I am a picture frame maker, of 6, Lenwood Place, Tarn Street, Southwark—on June 27th, about 9.30, I saw the prisoner and his wife fighting outside the Wellington public house—my attention was next attracted by the noise of the deceased's head striking the stones—I did not see any blows struck—I assisted in taking him to the hospital.
D—REITZO. I am an ice cream vendor, of 55, Green Street, Southwark—on June 27th, about 9.30 p.m., I saw the deceased fall into the roadway—I did not see any row or blow struck.
P—GLENDIDEN. I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I was called to see the deceased shortly after 9.30 on June 27th—he was alive when I first saw him, but died five or ten minutes after—he was unconscious, and his breath was failing—he had a wound at the back of his head with blood oozing from it—on the 29th I made a post mortem examination—I found two fractures at the base of the skull, one seven inches long and the other two inches long, and a clot of blood by the fractures pressing on the brain, which in my opinion was the cause of death—all the other organs were healthy, but there were signs of old pleurisy—the fractures were both caused at the same time, and would have been continuous except that the opening between the brain and the spinal cord intervened.
Cross-examined. There were no signs of alcohol—he was a larger man than the prisoner.
JOHN HAWKINS (439 M.) I arrested the prisoner at 3.45 a.m. on June 28th outside the King's Head public house—I said, "Halloa, Joe, what did you run away for"—he said, "I was frightened"—on the way to the station he said, "I was having a row with my Missus, he interfered, and caught hold of me, and I hit him"—when charged he made no reply.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on July 27th he was having a row with his wife; and she flew at him and scratched his face; that he tried to get hold of her hands, when the deceased interfered; and that in the excitement
he put up his hand, but did not know whether he hit the deceased or whether the deceased jell down.
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. BUSZARD Prosecuted and MR. ROOTH Defended.
GEORGE HARRINGTON . I am a carman, living in the country—on July 2nd I was driving down Waterloo Road—the prisoner and two men got into the van—I did not ask them to—I pulled up at the Bricklayers' Arms, Ossory Road, Old Kent Road, and was getting down to give the horse a feed, when the three men fixed me up against the wheel—the other two men held me while Brown took my money, £4 10s., from my trousers' pocket he was afterwards stopped in the Old Kent Road—I had never seen either of the men before.
Cross-examined. I had had a glass or two of ale, but I do not drink a greal deal—I did not collide with a cab in the Waterloo Road—I did not pull up at the George public house in the Waterloo Road, or at a public house in the New Kent Road and treat Brown to drink—I had no drink with Brown at all—all the three men got into the van in the Waterloo Road—I did not ask them to have a drink at the Ossory Arms—Brown did not hand me any money when he was arrested—some of my money was dropped while they were robbing me—I had a good—opportunity of noticing Brown.
Re-examined. It occurred about 8 o'clock—it was a light evening—I cannot say how far it is from Waterloo Station to the Ossory Road.
MARY ANN EATON . I live in Glengall Road, Old Kent Road—I was in the Ossory Road at 7.30 or 7.45 on July 2nd—I saw the prosecutor pull up at the Ossory Arms—there were three men at the back of the van—they got out first, and then the prosecutor got out—as he got out they held him against the back wheel—I saw some money roll—they then ran away—the prisoner went towards the Lord Nelson and got on a 'bus.
Cross-examined. There is no thoroughfare through the Ossory Road—the three men did not run away together.
WILLIAM ALLEN . I am a builder's labourer—I was in the Ossory Road about 8 p.m. on July 2nd—I saw the prosecutor and three other men against the back wheel of a cart, outside the Ossory Arms—I heard a spill of money and the prosecutor say, "They have robbed me"—I then ran after the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I did not see any struggle—I did not pay any attention when I saw the four men against the wheel; I thought they were comrades—my attention was attracted when I heard the prosecutor say that he had been robbed—I am quite sure the prisoner is one of the men.
of the Ossory Road and walk quickly in the direction of the Nelson public house—the prosecutor then turned the corner and he told me he had been robbed—I ran after the prisoner, but before I could get up to him he got on a 'bus, which was stopped, and the prisoner got out—a policeman then came up—I heard the prisoner say, "If you think I have robbed the man take me to the station, I have not a farthing on me."
Cross-examined. When I tried to stop the 'bus the prisoner told the conductor not to stop—I did not notice that that was not on my depositions.
GEORGE HOOPER . (Constable L.B. and S.C. Railway.) On July 2nd, in the evening. I was on a tram in the Old Kent Road—I was called off and told that a robbery had taken place—I saw Tindall holding the prisoner, and the prosecutor said he had robbed him—I held the prisoner and blew my whistle—Deck came up and I gave him into his custody—the prisoner said that I had made a mistake, that I had got the wrong man—he also said that he had got no money, and if I thought he had robbed the man I could take him to the station.
Cross-examined. I was never in the Metropolitan Police—we do not follow their principle of writing down any statement made by a prisoner.
GEORGE DECK (42 L. R.) I was on duty in the Old Kent Road on July 2nd at 8.30 p.m.—I heard a police whistle blown, and near the Ossory Road I saw the prisoner detained by Hooper—the prosecutor was standing by and said, "I will give this man" (Pointing to the prisoner) "into custody for stealing £3 10s. in gold and other money; I do not know how much money I had on me"—the prisoner said, "You have, made a mistake, I only rode in your van from Waterloo; I know nothing about your money"—I took him into custody—he then said, He says he lost all gold, I have got some money about me, but no gold"—in reply to the charge he said, "I admit I was there, I know nothing about his money; I picked up a shilling in silver and twopence in bronze"—I found on him £1 gold, 5s. silver, and 7 1/2d. bronze.
Cross-examined. I made my note as soon as I got to the station—I swear he did not say that he had any gold.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I did have gold on me: I came out with 30s.; I am innocent of the charge."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was in Waterloo Road about 6.15 p.m. on July 2nd, and saw the prosecutor collide with a cab; that the prosecutor asked him to hold his horse while he went to see what damage he had done; that when he came back they went and had a drink; that the prosecutor invited him to ride in the van; that they pulled up at a public house in the New Kent Road; that the prosecutor went in and came out with two other men and invited them to ride in the van; that these men were strangers to him; that they next stopped at the Ossory Arms; that the prosecutor asked him to lave another drink; that he refused and remained in the van; that the other three men got out and started jumping about; that some money was dropped, and that he then got out of the van, picked up some of the money and gave it to the prosecutor, who said that he had been robbed, and as he did not want to be mixed up in any row he walked off and was stopped.
Evidence for the defence.
SERGEANT PEACHY. I am a sergeant in the Criminal Investigation Department, New Scotland Yard—three years ago the prisoner was convicted of being in the unlawful possession of some property, and fined a sovereign—except for that he bears a very good character—he is a good father and a good husband.
GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.
ADJOURNED TO TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, 1903.