CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 16TH, 1903
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER.
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
SESSIONS I. TO VI.
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, November 16th, 1903, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. SIR JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , Knight, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir CHARLES JOHN DARLING , Knight, and the Hon. Sir JOSEPH WALTON , Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir MARCUS SAMUEL , Knight, Sir JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart., and Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL-PHILLIPS , Bart., G.C.I.E., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON , Knight. K.C., Recorder of the said City; WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., and HOWARD CARLILE MORRIS , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; LUMLEY SMITH , Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court, and JAMES ALEXANDER RENTOUL , Esq., K.C., M.P., LL.D., Deputy Judge of the City of London Court; His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
RITCHIE, MAYOR. FIRST 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, November 16th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
1. MAURICE ASHDOWN (31), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch and chain from the person of William Stewart Ross, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on January 9th, 1900, as Maurice Balm. Four other convictions were proved against him. † Three years penal servitude as an habitual criminal. —
(2). ALFRED GEORGE CROCKER , to feloniously endeavouring to obtain £50 from William Bird Pearse and others by virtue of a forged instrument; also to unlawfully attempting to obtain from William Bird Pearse and another £50 with intent to defraud. He received a good character. Discharged on recognisances. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(5). MARK SYMONS , to stealing from the person of William Dowson Calvert a purse, a brooch, and 3d. his property, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on February 5th, 1901, as Henry Scott. Ten other convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude as an habitual criminal. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(6). JOHN NOLAN , to stealing and receiving fifty yards of merino the property of W. Hollins and Co., Ltd. Two previous convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(8). CHARLES HENRY ALBERT LUCAS (25) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, two post letters containing 6d., a leather purse and 1s., the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(9). FREDERICK ANDREWS (23), FREDERICK WILSON (26), and HARRY BLADES (22) , to stealing and receiving a watch, the property of Ernest Poulter, from his person, ANDREWS having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on February 6th, 1900, as Sidney Smith, WILSON at this Court on March 6th, 1899, as Albert Wilson, and BLADES at Clerkenwell on December, 18th, 1900, as Thomas Thomas. Seven other convictions were proved against Andrews, two against Wilson, and one against Blades. ANDREWS— Four years' penal servitude. WILSON— Three years' penal servitude. BLADES— Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 16th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
10. TIMOTHY HANLAN (37) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign on October 24th to Sarah Wickham. Second count. Unlawfully uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign to Clara Wolff;. to this he pleaded
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
CLARA WOLFF . I am the wife of Frederick Wolff, a baker of 1, Cross Street, Islington—about 2.30 p.m. on October 23rd the prisoner came and asked for change for a half sovereign—I sounded it on the counter and gave him in change two half crowns and five separate shillings—he took up the change and went away—it is a wooden counter and was wet, as I had been scrubbing it—I doubted the coin as it was light—I took it to the post office, where it was weighed and found light—I paid it to the barman at the Britannia, who tested it and fetched the manager—a constable on point duty was sent for—I attended Clerkenwell Police Court on Saturday and was discharged by the Magistrate—I identified the prisoner at Clerkenwell Police Court on October 26th.
WILLIAM DOBBY . I am manager of the Britannia public house, Britannia Road, Islington—on October 23rd I was called into the bar by my barman where I found Mrs. Wolff—I took this gilded Jubilee sixpence from the till—it is a trifle larger than a half sovereign, and the barman tried to force it into the slot, but the coin not being of proper weight the lever pushed it out, the test being for weight as well as quality—I sent for a constable and gave her into custody—I marked the coin.
SARAH WICKHAM . I am an assistant in a baker's shop at 1, Gillingham Street, Pimlico—on October 24th, about 2.30, I gave the prisoner change for a half sovereign—I found it was a Jubilee sixpence gilded—I ran out of the shop for a policeman—the prisoner came back as I handed the policeman the coin—the prisoner was about half way down the street, six or seven houses off—the policeman was about two doors off—the prisoner had passed him—this is the coin.
Cross-examined. Five minutes could not have elapsed, because I noticed the coin at once, and running out of the shop saw a policeman coming up the street and spoke to him, or else I was going for the prisoner.
WILLIAM WEST (20 B.) About 2.30 on October 24th I saw the last witness run out of a shop in Gillingham Street, three or four yards off—he showed me this sixpence and pointed to the prisoner, whom I had just
passed—when she spoke to me he was near enough to hear—he said, "Give me that half sovereign back; that is a good one; you can have your change"—she said that he had tendered it to her and that she thought it was bad—I said, "I think it is a gilt sixpence"—the prisoner said, "It is a good one"—I said, "If it is, all the better for you, but you will have to go to the station with me"—he produced a good one—I took him to the station—he gave no answer to the charge—I searched him and found a good half sovereign, two half crowns, two florins, and three sixpences in silver, and 6 1/2d. bronze—he wanted to hand 10s. back to the prosecutor—I found it on him—I could have caught him if he had run away.
CHARLES WALTERS (Police Sergeant N.) I was present on October 20th when Wolff identified the prisoner at Westminster Police Court—I showed him this coin and told him he would be charged with uttering it—he said, know nothing at all about it."
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of coin to His Majesty's Mint—these are gilded sixpences—they resemble half sovereigns and were called in in consequence after the Jubilee year, and in two previous reigns.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he believed the coins were good.
GUILTY .** Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
EMILY CHERRY . I assist Mr. Guscott, a baker, at 128, Stoke Newington Road—on November 2nd the prisoner came in and asked me to change a half sovereign—he put this coin in my hand—I looked at it—I said I did not think it was good—he said it was a Jubilee coin—I said I did not think it was right—he said before that it was a Jubilee coin—I took it to Mr. Guscott, who came into the shop and examined it—he said it was not good—the prisoner took another coin out of his pocket and held it in his hand—he said he got it from a barman, the result of betting—I did not hear the further conversation, I was standing behind Mr. Guscott, there was a great deal of noise from traffic.
JAMES GUSCOTT . I am a baker, of 128, Stoke Newington Road—the last witness is in my employment—on November 2nd, in the afternoon, she brought me this coin—I looked at it and went into the shop and told the prisoner I had doubts about it—he said he had got it from the Walford public house and showed me a paper with writing on it, which he said he had got from a barman, and that he would take it back to him—he then balanced it in his hand with a good coin and said the weight was all right—I said, "We can easily see by cutting it with a knife"—he said he would take it back—I got possession of it again and rubbed it on something rough, and said, "Look at that"—you can see the streak where the gold is rubbed off—he said, "Oh, there!" took the coin, and said he would go back to the barman—he hurried out of the shop—I went to see how he got on with the barman—he ran when I got to the corner—I ran after him, to Arthur Street, about a quarter of a mile, where I lost sight of him—I said to a man, who turned out to be a policeman in plain clothes, "Stop him"—he secured him as he was going by him and said, "What has he done?"—
I told him that the prisoner had tried to pass off a gilded sixpence—the prisoner then produced a good half sovereign and said that was what he had asked me to change, and that I had no right to run after him—the policeman said, "What have you thrown away?"—he said, "Nothing"—the policeman said, "I saw you throw something and hoard it jingle"—he said he had not thrown anything away—I said I should have him locked up—he asked me not to, as he was a bookmaker and had taken that half sovereign for a bet, and he should get into trouble for betting—I ordered him to be locked up—I saw him searched—I identified him—that is the man.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You said you got it from a barman—you mentioned the Walford.
JOHN HONOUR (463 N.) I met the prisoner in Arthur Street, running towards me—he threw something away—I heard a metallic sound of something dropping on the ground, opposite the Arthur Road, where there are little gardens—he started to run; at the same time Guscott came round the corner and said, "Stop him"—I ran after him about fifty yards and brought him back to Guscott—I asked what was the matter; Guscott replied, "This man has given me a gilded sixpence for change for a half sovereign"—the prisoner produced a genuine half sovereign from his pocket and said, "This is the one I tendered to you"—the prosecutor replied, "No, that is not the one"—I told him I was a police constable, and the prosecutor said, "I will give him into custody"—the prisoner said, "I don't want to get into a bother over this, what will you take to square it?"—I took him to the police station—I went hack and searched the gardens with Sergeant Thornhill, and found this sixpence in No. 1, Arthur Road—I found on the prisoner a half sovereign, 5s. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 6d. in bronze good money—when charged he made no reply—he gave his address as the Rowton lodging houses, Kennington Lane, Lambeth.
ERNEST DOVE . I am manager of the Walford public house, Stoke Newington—the staff consists of barmaids; there are no men—I never recollect seeing the prisoner—I never betted with him—I did not give him this coin.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth
He had been convicted of burglary and bound over. Six months' hard labour.
MR. HUGHES Prosecuted; MR. FOAKES Defended.
THOMAS LAMONT . I am a driver. No. 9591. of a hansom cab—I live at 169. Farringdon Road Buildings—on October 27th, about 1 a.m., I drove into Ormond Yard, Great Ormond Street, where my cab is kept—the prisoner and five or six more were outside a public house in the
yard—I heard someone say, "Here he is"—the prisoner got on the step at the back of the cab while I was still on the box—he climbed the cab on the left hand side and made several blows at me—he hit me with something in his hand on the loft of my face, just behind the eye—I felt I was bleeding—several women in the yard called, "Police!"—the men all ran away—I had seen the prisoner about 9 p.m. on that night in Salisbury Square, when he had a few words with another cabman—he knocked a paper out of a man's hand and tapped him on the hat—he struck me on the nose then—a policeman took me to the hospital at one o'clock.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for some time—I believed he was an inoffensive man—I did not strike anybody till I was struck in Salisbury Square—the prisoner is a porter outside the Salisbury Hotel—I had not assaulted him that night—after he struck 'me I attempted to defend myself: I struck him—I cannot say that I gave him a black eye or made his face bleed, because he ran away—I now know Horncastle, White, Gibson, and Stapleton—there is a barmaid at the Barley Mow—I could not hit hard enough to black the prisoner's eye—I am not aware that I am called, "Big Boot Monte"—I was in the doorway of the White Swan when the policeman, at the landlord Gibson's request, turned us out—I did not go to Drury Lane and bring people from there—I was perfectly sober that night—it is untrue that the prisoner left the yard at twelve o'clock—he did not say he had come about an overcoat of Bill Ridley's, as he lived eight or nine miles away—I did not ask a man called Tiddles to ask the prisoner to let it all blow over—it is untrue that he came back with the answer, "Yes, if you can give a reason for knocking me about"—I hit a man with a cup at a coffee stall nine months ago, I think—he was going to assault me, so I poked it at him in self defence—Horncastle did not try to prevent me from fighting—I did not throw anything at Horncastle—I have never seen the prisoner with a knife.
Re-examined. I did not fetch Stapleton, a cabman, from Drury Lane; he was in Salisbury Square—no knife was used in Salisbury Square, that I know of—that dispute was ended between 10 and 10.30—the other dispute at Ormond Yard was between 1 and 1.30 a.m.—I did not see the prisoner between those times—I did nothing to provoke a dispute at Ormond Yard—I had earned us. 6d. between the disputes—I was taking my cab home for the night.
CLARENCE GRANVILLE HAY . I was house surgeon at the Homeopathic Hospital on October 27th—the prosecutor was brought in between 1 and 2 a.m.—I was called at 1.55—I found him bleeding from several wounds on the left side of his face and neck—the deepest and longest was behind the angle of the jaw on the left side—he was also bleeding from three punctured wounds under his left eyebrow, and five superficial scratches over his left eyebrow and down the cheek—there were ten wounds altogether—that behind the angle of the jaw was about three-sixteenths of an inch deep—it was in a dangerous position—if it had been a very little deeper it would have entered the external jugular vein—it might have been fatal—the scar is there now—he was bleeding profusely—the wounds
must have been caused by a sharp instrument, especially the longer wound—they had been inflicted fifteen or twenty minutes at the longest—the wounds were dressed, and he was told to come on Thursday at eleven o'clock, but he did not turn up.
Cross-examined. The wounds proved not to be serious—a broken bottle could not easily have caused them—the tissues on the side of his neck were naturally drawn tense by his turning his head, in which case a blunted instrument would make a deeper wound than when they were lax—he had taken alcohol, but was not drunk.
Re-examined. Broken glass might have caused the injuries if used repeatedly.
FREDERICK HORREX . I live at 9, Ormond Yard—I am employed by Mr. Rogers, the prosecutor's employer, to work in the yard—I walked out of the stable as the prosecutor pulled up with his cab soon after 1 a.m. on October 27th—he was sitting on the dickey—five or six men came behind the cab from the other end of the yard and asked the prosecutor to get down—they used bad language—I had something in my hand and walked into the office—there is a public house in the yard—I heard the horse backing, and ran outside—I saw the prisoner come from behind the cab and strike at the prosecutor with his right hand on the near side—I identified the prisoner from twelve or fourteen men at Bow Street—I did not swear he was the man; I said he resembled him very much—I now think he is very much like him—I saw him striking at the prosecutor—I cannot say whether he had anything in his hand—Lamont was bleeding when the surgeon came—Lamont had not time to speak—some ladies called, "Police!"—the men walked away.
Cross-examined. There was a lamp right against the cab—I was first spoken to about it about an hour afterwards, when the surgeon came—no one described the man to me—I went before the Magistrate on the 28th—I gave evidence before I identified the prisoner, and again about a fortnight afterwards.
Re-examined. The warrant was applied for on the 28th.
SIDNEY WYBORN (Policeman E.) About 7.30 p.m. on November 7th I saw the prisoner in Salisbury Court—I said, "Is your name Coates or Cootes?"—he said, "No"—I said, "You answer to the description of a man wanted for stabbing a cabman named Lamont on the 27th of last month at Ormond Yard, and I am going to take you into custody"—he said, "You have made a mistake"—on the way to the station he said, "My name is Cootes, not Coates; on that night a cabman named Monte and several others set about me and gave me a good hiding, and I went to Ormond Yard to get the cabman's name and address to summons him for assault"—I read the warrant to him, and took him to Gray's Inn Road Police Station—on the way he said, "What took place took place at Salisbury Court"—when charged he made no reply—I went to Ormond Yard on October 28th between 11 and 12 a.m.—I saw blood stains on the stones outside the stable.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, repeated what he said to the policeman,
and added that he was so knocked about, and his clothes so torn that he went to Ormond Yard about 11 p.m. to borrow an overcoat to go home in, but had left before the assault there.
Evidence for the Defence.
ARTHUR HORNCASTLE . I am a newspaper collector of 218, Waterloo Square, Camberwell—I collect newspapers for firms I work for—I was at the Barley Mow public house, in Salisbury Court, between 8.30 and 9 p.m. on October 26th—the prisoner came in—his face was puffed up and his eyes getting black as if he had been knocked about on his face—he said he had been fighting with three cabmen—I went out with him to see fair play—a Mr. White went with me—outside there was scuffling between the prisoner and some cabmen—I tried to prevent them fighting—my share in the proceedings was a smack on my nose—a policeman came and quiet followed—afterwards I went to the White Swan public house with the prisoner and the cabman White—the prosecutor followed us into the saloon bar with Stapleton, and others and set about me—I was kicked and an umbrella was broken across my head after I was knocked down—the landlord had the lot turned out—I went home.
Cross-examined. I did not hear that the prisoner had been to Ormond Yard till the next morning—we had no dispute with the prosecutor—I tried to get the prisoner away—I did not see the prosecutor being struck—the prisoner said he was going home.
ARTHUR WHITE . I am a packing case dealer's assistant of 17, Arnold Road, Tottenham—I was with White on October 26th in Salisbury Court about 8.30, when the prisoner was set about by cabmen—Horncastle and I went out of the public house and saw the scuffle and tried to get the prisoner away—the police came and stopped it—the prisoner told me he was going home—we went back into the public house—the prosecutor followed us with a mob of ten or twelve men and set about us—a bottle and an umbrella were broken—the prisoner was not there then—the landlord turned them out.
Cross-examined. Horncastle was kicked when he was on the ground—I saw the prisoner three or four days afterwards.
THOMAS GIBSON . I am the proprietor of the White Swan public house, Salisbury Court—I knew Horncastle as "Jerry," and Lamont by sight—on October 26th, between 10.30 and 11 p.m., the cabman Lamont came in followed by seven or eight others—I wanted to know what was the matter—a man was called out—I said, "Kindly retire, I will see the man comes out"—they knocked Horncastle on the floor, and Lamont kicked him while he was on the floor—an umbrella and bottle were broken—I saw nothing thrown—I sent for a policeman, and with other customers we got the men out.
FLORENCE PALMER . I am barmaid at the White Swan—on the evening of October 26th half a dozen fellows came into the passage—a young fellow behind one in a fawn coat, with a club foot, said, "You young fellow of the name of Jerry, come out"—(The prisoner was lame)—the one in the fawn coat set about Horncastle and hit him with an umbrella—he fell, and
the young man was ready to kick him when the police came in and stopped him.
Cross-examined. I was asked to give evidence last week when a gentleman asked me to go to Bow Street.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday. November 17th. 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
13. WILLIAM HUSTWAYTE (38), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing thirty-nine umbrella handles and a pearl umbrella handle, the property of Jonathan Howell and others his masters, Recommended to mercy by the prosecutors. Seven months' hard labour. —And
MR. BASIL WATSON Defended.
George Cox, a warehouseman in the service of Joseph Husbands and Company, was called and sworn, but having stated that he had lost his memory through, an accident, his evidence was not proceeded with.
JOSEPH HUSBANDS . I carry on business as J. Husbands and Company, wholesale umbrella and blouse manufacturers, at 7, Little Britain—Joseph Wheeler was employed by us for some years—his duties took him into the basement—on September 8th I found in the warehouse some sticks from which the handles had been broken, in consequence of which I instructed two servants to keep watch in the basement; one of them, Cox, has had an accident; the other, Mordan, is here—my servant, Wheeler, was given into custody that night—on September 10th, at the police station, he made a statement to me in the presence of the police, in consequence of which I went to 12, Bethnal Green Road, which is a railway arch, used by Rickards as a shop and store—there is nothing displayed, just a name painted in front—I saw Rickards' son—on September 11th I went again in the morning with Detective Hallam and again in the afternoon, when I saw the prisoner—Hallam was there before me—I told the prisoner that I wanted to look at the goods of his stock of umbrella handles—he showed me some—I said those did not interest me, I did not see what I was looking for, and that I wanted to see anything that he had bought recently—he said he had not bought anything just lately—I said he had, and that I should like to see the stuff he had bought up to yesterday—he said he was quite sure he had not bought anything up to that time, that he had plenty of stuff, and had not wanted anything, I think he said for several weeks—I told him I knew he had bought from the man Wheeler—he said he did not know him and had not soon him—I then asked to see more of his goods, or I should have him arrested, because I knew he had bought stuff that was stolen from me—his son produced some boxes of umbrella handles, in
which I found thirty of my stock that I got from Hall and Portbury, who made the silver for the handles—I bought the whole of their stock—I had not sold them—I only sell the completed umbrella or sunshade—I had missed the stock by the figures in the book, and I have missed about 700 more since this case—I take stock in June each year—seven of these have been specially made for me, I have no doubt they are my handles—I told the prisoner I could swear to them as having been stolen from my stock by Wheeler, and unless he could account for them I should give him into custody there and then—he said he had not got them from Wheeler—I asked him where he got them—he said he could not tell—I said, "Show me the receipt where you bought these, if you bought these goods and paid for them"—he said, "I do not get a receipt, if you refer to the bulk I bought them from J. and R. Morley"—they are a wholesale house—I have not sold any handles to J. and R. Morley—these are 1s. each wholesale—he produced Morley's receipt for sample handles which he paid for at the time he bought them—referring to some I said, "These never came from Morley's, these have been stolen from my stock, and unless you tell me from whom you bought them I shall give you into custody; have you any books?"—he said he did not keep any—I gave him into custody—he was taken to Snow Hill Police Station—some of these handles have been broken off the sticks and some have been sawn off—I have never sold them to the trade in this state—whilst waiting for the charge to be taken at the station in the presence of Detective Loakes, the prisoner said, "Do not be too hard on me, Mr. Husbands, I ain't had all your stuff, there's half a dozen others in it"—then I said, "Who are they, give me their names?"—he said, "Why should I tell you; it won't do me any good"—he was charged immediately after that—I was subsequently present at Guildhall when my servant Wheeler pleaded guilty to selling my handles, and was sentenced to two months' imprisonment.
Cross-examined. When Wheeler pleaded guilty these goods were produced—I believe they were shown to him—I do a nice business—I handle nearly every article—we try to avoid similar patterns of handles—I usually engage the pattern when it is shown to us by the trade—we make umbrellas—these patterns were bought absolutely for ourselves—we cleared the whole lot—we buy the sticks and handles—I do not sell to Hall and Portbury—they have dissolved partnership—they sold us 200 dozens—I accept the statement of the seller that the samples are put in with the goods—I examine all the goods—I leave the warehouseman to count them—probably three in a parcel may be thrown out to be returned for the pattern to be altered or some other reason—the partners are at the warehouse fifteen hours a day—not the employees—I know and A. Grant, of Aldermanbury Avenue; De Saxe and Company, of Odell Street; and Barnett Phillips, of London Wall, who deal in goods of much the same class—I imagine they deal of Hall and Portbury, but I do not know that they were supplied with exactly the same class of goods—the goods are made in London—those firms supply wholesale firms like J. and R. Morley, Copestake's, and so on—some of these silver goods are
Hall and Portbury's—they are sterling silver and have the hall mark—the goods I identify as mine are absolutely different in pattern to those of any other firm—at the shop the prisoner cried and said, "Do not lock me up, do not ruin me"—at the station he said, "Do not be hard on me, Mr. Husbands, I have a wife and four children, I have not had all the stuff, there are others that have had it," not "I have not had the stuff," nor "There are half a dozen others in it"—I was engaged some hours in this investigation—I made a note on a paper I have in my pocket (Produced)—I made it in my office as soon as I returned from the police station—it might have been three quarters or half an hour afterwards.
Re-examined. This is my note: "Do not be hard on me, Mr. Husbands, I have a wife and four children; I ain't had all the stuff; there's half a dozen others in it"; then my own remark, "Who are they, tell me their names?" and his reply, "Why should I tell you? it won't do me no good"—I wrote it in pencil on a scrap of paper in the office—the dissolution of Hall and Portbury's partnership was within the last few weeks—the business is now carried on by Mr. Portbury as Hall and Portbury—I asked to see him or a traveller—these seven handles come from Vienna—the bulk is made specially for me.
FRANK HALLAM (Detective, City.) On the morning of September 10th Joseph Wheeler was detained at the Snow Hill Police Station—at his request I sent for his employer. Mr. Husbands, to whom he made a statement in my presence, in consequence of which I went to Rickards' shop in Bethnal Green Road—I saw his son—on leaving the shop I watched the premises from 50 to 100 yards off—I saw Rickards' men at the door and watched from another position—on September 11th I went to the shop in the afternoon—I said to Rickards, "I am a police officer; I should like to ask you a few questions; there is a man named Joseph Wheeler in the employ of Joseph Husbands, of 7, Little Britain, who has been charged with stealing a quantity of umbrella handles, and he says he has been stealing them, and that he brought the whole of the property to you, that you paid him 2d. each for them, that you knew that the whole of the property was stolen, and that last Wednesday he brought some to you, and you received them"—he said, "I do not know a man named" Joseph Wheeler; the only Wheeler I know is a man who works at the stores; he never brought me anything last Wednesday"—I said, "I should like to look through your premises"—he said, "Very well"—I went over the premises with him—I waited till Mr. Husbands arrived, and together we wont behind the counter—Rickards produced three boxes containing umbrella handles—Mr. Husbands selected thirty from the three boxes and said to him, "From where did you receive these umbrella handles?"—he said, "From J. and R. Morley's"—Husbands said, "I know that these umbrella handles came from my promises, and that they are stolen"—Rickards said, "No. they do not; if they do not come from J. and R. Morley's I do not know where they come from"—Husbands asked for a receipt, and ho produced this one for seventy-two dozen job sticks and 120 whole feathers and other job items, to the value of £40 1s., and dated July 9th, 1903, from J. and R. Morley—I did not hear the further conversation;
I was searching the premises—at that time a detective brought into the shop this brown bag—I said to Richards, "Yesterday afternoon, when I left your premises I saw one of your work girls with your son come out of your door with this brown bag"—I showed him the contents, a quantity of umbrella handles and covers belonging to Messrs. Howell's, and asked him to account for them—he said, "I refuse to give any information"—I told him he would be charged with receiving the thirty umbrella handles—he said, "They are not stolen"—I conveyed him to Snow Hill Police Station—he made no further reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. He immediately offered to go over the premises with me—I was there an hour to an hour and a half—there were more receipts for the same class of goods.
JAMES PORTBURY . I now carry on the business of Hall and Portbury, formerly carried on with Mr. Hall at 20, Australian Avenue, City—the partnership is now dissolved—we make silver mounts for sticks—I sold twenty of these handles to Mr. Husbands about fourteen months ago—this is the invoice, dated August, 1901—he bought all the stock we had mounted—up to eleven weeks ago, when we dissolved partnership, we had not made any similar patterns for anybody else—we kept no samples back, even the odd sticks and handles were sold—I have no doubt these are some of the goods—it was what we call a job line.
Cross-examined. These were all made within a few weeks—we used to make job lines up for sale of different patterns—these handles are not a job line—we sold all the lot to Husbands—we did not take out the samples—I bought and sold for the partnership, and my late partner may be under a misapprehension in saying that we did—we work up handles in the slack season—Husbands would have bought more if we had had them.
JOSEPH WHEELER . I am a convict in His Majesty's Prison at Pentonville—on September 22nd I pleaded guilty at Guildhall to stealing seventeen umbrella handles from my master, Mr. Husbands—I am now undergoing the sentence of two months' imprisonment—after receiving sentence I was called as a witness against Rickards—up to September 9th I had been in Husbands' employ for some years—my duties took me into the basement, where I got the umbrella handles I am charged with stealing—I got them in the dinner hour, between 1 and 2 or between 12 and 1—I was arrested on September 9th in the evening—I sold them in the afternoon and evening—those that I took between 12 and 1 I sold to Rickards at his place of business, Bethnal Green Road—on September 9th I took him a dozen and a half—I saw Rickards—I have known him about six years—I first took Husbands' goods to the prisoner about three or four months ago—passing one evening, I went in and asked him if he bought umbrella handles; he said, "Yes "; I asked him how much he would give me; he said 2d. each, and we made a bargain—I went to his premises five or six times a week perhaps—he always gave me 2d. each for them—he asked me no questions—I do not think he knew my name—I knew him as being in the same line as I was—I did not know his name—I had spoken to him at concerts and that sort of thing—my wages were 25s. a week—I was porter and packer—he asked me later on what my name was—I told him "Wheeler"—
he asked where I was employed—I told him I worked for Mr. Husbands, an umbrella maker—after being locked up on the night of September 9th the next morning I asked to see Mr. Husbands, who was sent for—I made a statement to him—these are some of my governor's umbrella handles that I took—I saw them at the Guildhall—I took some similar stuff to these and some different.
Cross-examined. It is not the fact that the prisoner has not seen me, and does not know me.
JOHN LOAKES (City Detective.) I was present at the police station on September 11th, when the prisoner was charged with stealing thirty umbrella handles—previous to being charged he said to Mr. Husbands, "Don't be hard on me, Mr. Husbands; I have a wife and four children; I ain't had all the stuff; there's half a dozen others in it besides me"—Husbands said, "Who are they?"—he replied, "Why should I tell you? it won't do me any good"—I made a note of that statement about a quarter of an hour afterwards; as soon as the prisoner was charged and put back in the cells I put it down in my book—on September 11th I kept observation on 12, Bethnal Green Road—I saw Sergeant Hallam and Mr. Husbands go there—after they had left the shop and were going towards High Street, Shoreditch, I saw a man come out of the prisoner's premises—he crossed the road and looked down the street in the direction Husbands and Hallam had gone, then crossed to where I was, and appeared to be watching them—they stopped at the bottom of the Bethnal Green Road—they were in sight then—they moved round the corner out of sight, when the man re-crossed the road and went into No. 12—shortly afterwards the girl, Flora Hills, came out, carrying a brown bag—she got on a 'bus with it, putting it on the stage, as it seemed heavy—I saw her subsequently—in consequence of information she gave me I went to 163, Wilmot Street, Bethnal Green, where Miss Whalen gave me the bag—it contained a quantity of umbrella handles, and parts, and some sunshade covers—some of the articles have since been identified as having been stolen from Henry Howell and Co., of Old Street, and from Mr. Reddrop.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not say, "I have not had the stuff, others have had it"—he did not send the girl Hills to fetch the bag.
Re-examined. Some of the articles in the bag have not been identified—there are two slides to the bag and a lock slide as well.
CHARLES RICKARDS . I am the prisoner's son—I live with him and assist him in his business—he gave me this bag—it was full—he said I was to send it to Miss Whalen—she is employed by him at her own house—it was on a Wednesday or Thursday—in consequence of my father's instructions I sent Flora Hills with the bag.
ELIZABETH WHALEN . I live at 163, Wilmot Street, Bethnal Green—I work at my home for Mr. Rickards—I remember Hills bringing this bag on September 10th—I did not know what was in it—it was taken away the next day by Sergeant Loakes.
EDWIN HEARD . I am manager to Messrs. Howell and Co., cane and stick manufacturers, Old Street, City—the thirty-nine umbrella handles and forty-six parts of handles in this bag are our property—they have been stolen from our warehouse—the prisoner Hustwayte (See page 10) has pleaded guilty to stealing them—he was a porter in our employ—they were safe, and I had seen most of them within a month.
Cross-examined. Some of these goods are made expressly for us.
WILLIAM HORACE REDDROP . I live at 19, Holmwood Road, Bromley, Kent—I am an umbrella manufacturer, of 22, Bartholomew Close—this umbrella handle found in this brown bag is my property—I know it by the mark "W. H. R." and the hall mark—it is not complete—it has never been sold by me—we do not sell articles in this condition—we have missed many handles lately.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that his statement to Mr. Husbands was that he had not had the goods, but someone must have had them that he did not know; that he had never bought of Wheeler or even seen him, nor knowingly received any stolen goods; and he produced receipts for goods which he had bought from Morley's and others, and said that the goods in the bag he bought from Barnby, a traveller, and did not suspect anything wrong then, but subsequently sent the bag away to save bother.
Evidence for the Defence.
JAMES HALL . I am a stick mounter, of 31, Northampton Square, Clerkenwell—I was formerly in partnership with Mr. Portbury, trading as Hall and Portbury—we dissolved the partnership about four months ago by mutual consent—before that I sold to Mr. Husbands 200 dozen sticks of all kinds, horns, cats on sticks, and so on—it was not a clearance, because we never sell the samples—there might have been a few old samples sold, but not those we were working on—we did not agree with Husbands not to sell similar goods—we have since sold many similar goods, some to J. and R. Morley—the goods are supplied by what we call factors—I have sold to G. and A. Grant, of Aldermanbury, on many occasions, also 150 dozen to De Saxe, of Odell Street, and some to Barnett and Phillips—they are similar goods—they are delivered in parcels of about 24 dozen at a time—I have been in the trade twelve years in London—the firms referred to, supply the wholesale trade—the 200 dozen sold to Husbands were made at quiet times, and were the result of collections of those made when trade was slack.
Cross-examined. I was in the counting-house when the transaction with Husbands was arranged—Mr. Portbury did not arrange it alone with Husbands—we have sold to him at different periods, but never the samples we work on—we sold what we had and made other articles which are identical with these, so far as I remember.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that we made similar articles subsequently to the sale to Husbands.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY , Eighteen months hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, November 17 th, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq. K.C.
16. JOSEPH SLATER (17) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £25; also to stealing a cheque for £25, the property of Walter Parry, his master. He received a good character Discharged on recognisances.
17. ALBERT GODWIN (28) , Unlawfully removing and concealing certain part of his property, within four months of his bankruptcy. Second count for not delivering to the trustee to his estate certain property, with intent to defraud.
MR. MUIR and MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted; and MR. STUART and MR. NOLAN Defended.
HENRY CLEMENT ELEY . I live at 68, Faulkland Road, Hornsey, and am manager to J. A. Lawton and Co., carnage manufacturers, of 24, Orchard Street, London—in April, 1900, we had a transaction with a Mr. J. A. Scott—the prisoner is the man—he gave an address of 120, Stamford Hill—he described himself as a horse dealer—our firm let him have on a hire purchase agreement, dated April 14th, a tub cart—the instalments for that were paid—on May 1st we let him have a buggy on a hire purchase agreement, payable at £3 monthly, price £52 10s—£10 was deposited in the first instance—he paid £11 of the £52 10s., having got into arrear—on December 1st we entered into another hiring agreement with him, and treated the £11 as a deposit on that agreement, which was practically a renewal of the old agreement, the instalments being similar—it was provided in it that if there should be any breach of any stipulation it should be lawful for us to enter any dwelling-house or premises and take possession of our property—the prisoner paid nothing in respect of this agreement—we tried to find him at the address given when the agreement was signed, but failed—I heard nothing of him until the bankruptcy proceedings against him in 1902.
Cross-examined by MR. NOLAN. I saw the prisoner's stepfather, Powles, about twelve months after the first agreement was entered into—the prisoner did not tell me that he and his stepfather were in the same line of business of horse dealers—I had no conversation with Powles—I next saw Powles last Wednesday week—I do not know that he has been financing the prisoner for the last eight years—I do not know that Powles was in the habit of giving the prisoner money to buy horses and vehicles for Powles—I say that the buggy was hired from us—I was not aware that all the time the prisoner was dealing with Powles' money.
Re-examined. I have only seen Powles twice—he came to us with Scott when Scott paid an instalment, and Scott, who is the prisoner, then introduced me to his father—nothing has been paid for the buggy except the £11, and there is £41 10s. still due.
By MR. NOLAN. We have received about £90 altogether from the prisoner.
in May, 1902, I acted for my uncle, Mr. William Henderson, in letting Holmesdale Stables to Mr. "A. J. Smith," who is the prisoner—I produce the agreement signed by Smith and myself—the tenancy began on June 2nd—I saw several carriages in the coachhouse and horses in the stalls from time to time—the prisoner continued in occupation till about December 29th—I noticed then that there was no light in the stable, and no sign of anyone being there—I went in and found it empty, and some of the racks belonging to Mr. Henderson missing—the first quarter's rent of the stable was paid; the last quarter was not—we had no notice that the prisoner was giving up possession—from that time until the bankruptcy we did not know of his whereabouts.
Cross-examined. I do not know anyone named Powles—the prisoner did not say to me that he was carrying on business with his step-father—the rent was paid by cheque in his own name, Godwin.
Re-examined. I did not know that the cheque was his own cheque at that time.
ARNOLD JOSLIN . I am a coach builder, of 67, West Street, Upper Norwood, in business with my father, who is the owner of Riddlesdale Mews, Upper Norwood—in 1902 I let some stables to the prisoner in the name of Albert Godwin at £50 a year, rates and taxes inclusive—I called on him several times, and saw in the stables some vehicles—one of them I should describe as a Scotch char-a-banc, another was a gig, another a phaeton, and another a trolley—the gig might be described as a buggy, and the char-a-banc as a brake—the prisoner told me it was necessary for his business that he should have such vehicles, as it helped him in the sale of horses, and he gave me to understand that they were his own property—he was in possession from July to Christmas, 1902—we received the rent to the Michaelmas quarter—we had no notice to quit—when I went for the rent after Christmas I found the premises empty—there was no property there.
Cross-examined. I think I saw the prisoner once or twice a week, on an average—I never saw him with a man whom he called his step-father—I do not know a man named Powles—I saw the prisoner with a man named Murphy, who has stables in the neighbourhood—I know Murphy personally—Murphy did not tell me that the vehicles I have spoken of were his property, nor do I know that he took possession of them.
Re-examined. Murphy is a merchant in iron and steel goods at Bristol—he was introduced to me by Godwin.
ARTHUR CHARLES BOURNER . I am a chartered accountant—about last October I saw this advertisement in the Daily Telegraph: "Very handsome match pair of cobs, 15 hands, five and six years. The owner would lend them in good hands, or sell them reasonable. They are perfectly quiet in single or double harness. If sold, veterinary surgeon's certificate given.—Apply, Holmesdale Stables, Dulwich Wood Park, Gipsy Hill"—I went there and saw the cobs, and made this agreement with' the prisoner: "Received from Arthur C. Bourner the sum of £80, which, together with the horse 'Prince Charles,' is the agreed price for the two chestnut cobs, to pay him £90, and take, them back at any time
within fourteen days"—the prisoner signed that agreement in my presence—I tried the cobs for fourteen days, and then agreed with him for a further fourteen days' trial—I was dissatisfied with them and returned them on. I think, October 30th—I sent my cashier down to demand repayment of my money, but could not get it—I then instructed my solicitor to issue a writ; I got judgment, but was unable to get anything under it except £1 3s. 4d. from the bank, under a garnishee order—my judgment was for £101 odd—the prisoner was made bankrupt, and I was appointed trustee—he has not handed any property to me, nor disclosed the fact that he has any property—the assets realised about £6—I reported the facts to the Bankruptcy Court, and a prosecution was ordered.
Cross-examined. The prisoner gave me a certificate of soundness with the cobs—when I sent my cashier to him for the repayment of my money I think he saw the prisoner—I first of all wrote demanding payment, and as I did not receive an answer I sent my cashier—I know that Powles has said that the vehicles and horses which were discovered afterwards were his but I do not believe it—I know he has stated that he financed the prisoner.
Re-examined. On October 3rd, at the time of the purchase by me, I saw some vehicles in the prisoner's stable.
By MR. NOLAN*. I was there about an hour and a half—that was the first time I saw the prisoner.
WILLIAM JAMES BRADLEY . I am one of the firm of Swan, Bradley and (Jo., solicitors, 6, East India Avenue, London—on instructions from Mr. Bourner, I issued on November 5th a writ against the prisoner for £90, to which an appearance was entered on November 13th—on November 28th I obtained judgment and issued execution—a return was made of "No goods"—I have not realised anything under that judgment—on December 11th I issued a bankruptcy notice, and on December 31st I filed a bankruptcy petition on Mr. Bourner's behalf.
EDWARD CHARLES ANSTEE . I am a clerk in the Royal Courts of Justice, Central Office—I produce the original writ for £90 and costs in the action of 'Bourner c. Godwin"—I also produce the appearance to the writ, signed by Clifford, Turner and Company, solicitors for the defendant; that is Albert Godwin—I also produce the original judgment in the action for £101 10s.
ALBERT EDWARD SPANSWICK . I live at 24a, Fieldhouse Road, Balham, and am cashier at the London and South-Western Bank, Upper Norwood—the prisoner opened an account there on July 11th, 1902—I produce a certified copy of it—the last entry is December 17th—on October 3rd a cheque was paid into that account for £80, drawn by Mr. Bourner on the National Provincial Bank, head office—on November 5th a cheque for £5 was drawn to Garnett, and on November 7th one for £250 to Godwin—on November 12th another cheque to Garnett was paid for £45—that left a credit of £1 3s. 4d., which was eventually paid out under a garnishee order—I produce an extract from the cashier's paying book, showing the numbers of the bank notes by which the cheque for £250 was paid—they were five £50 notes numbered 22278, 22279, 22280,
45950, and 45951—they were paid over the counter—the cheque for £45 to Garnett on November 12th was paid in cash.
CHARLES ARTHUR THOMPSON . I am clerk to Messrs. Thomas Barnard and Company, bankers, of Bedford—I recognise the prisoner—he opened an account there on December 16th, 1902, in the name of Albert Goodwin, of 11, Victoria Road, Bedford, by a credit of £295—I produce a certified copy of that account—these are the notes by which the payment was made; five £50 notes, numbered 45950, 45951, 22278 to 80, and nine £5 notes—on December 31st £285 was drawn out by this cheque (Exhibit 11)—on January 20th a cheque for £150 was paid, made payable to John Powles, and indorsed "John Powles"—on February 7th another cheque for £65 was drawn on that account, payable to and endorsed by "J. Powles"—I produce a copy of our paying cash book, showing the notes by which those cheques were paid—the £285 was paid by four £50 notes, numbered 70957, 99216-7-8, and three £10 notes, 66059, 29392, and 65715—the £65 cheque was paid partly by a £10 note, No. 06050—after these moneys had been withdrawn there was a balance of £4 10s., which was paid over to the Official Receiver.
Cross-examined. I have seen Powles, but he has not to my recollection paid money into the bank—it might happen without coming to my knowledge.
Re-examined. I find on two of the notes an indorsement of "A. Goodwin, 11, Victoria Road"—I should say it is A. Goodwin's writing.
By MR. NOLAN. I cannot say whether Powles paid £100 into the prisoner's account at our bank.
FREDERICK HARTOP . I am a carriage proprietor, of Rye Close, Kempston Road, Bedford—I have some stables called Rye Close Stables, which I let on December 15th to the prisoner at £30 a year—he took possession the following Monday, bringing a brake and four horses altogether—he had a number of horses and carts as well as harness there—I do not know the exact date he left, but about the middle of February he took a lot of things away—he gave me no notice to quit, and left owing about £7 5s. for rent, gas, and water.
Cross-examined. He went away one morning about seven with his father-in-law—the latter came back, but I did not see the prisoner any more—when I asked for the rent which was due, Powles said, "You needn't trouble about that; what is going away is mine; there is plenty here to pay your rent."
JAMES GEORGE OWEN . I am a coachman employed at Kirkby Hall, Brixton—in January last I was living at 23, Derby Street, Bedford, and entered the prisoner's employment on January 19th at Rye Close Stables—I knew him as Mr. Goodwin—in the stables were four horses, a pony, a buggy, a brake, and eight rugs and harness—I saw the brake loaded up one morning when I went to work—I was discharged because he had no further employment for me—there were two horses there, that is all.
Cross-examined. I knew Powles; he was often there—I did not know that he was in the same line of business as the prisoner—I was a little
over three weeks in the prisoner's service—he gave me orders, and paid me the first two weeks, and Powles the second two weeks.
Re-examined. Mr. Goodwin engaged me.
WALTER CRICK . I live with my father at Northampton—we have some stables there, which we let early in February to J. Powles—I saw the prisoner in the neighbourhood of the stables once or twice—there were some horses in the stables and one vehicle, of which I only saw the end—it seemed like a coach—I found the tenants had left the stables near quarter day—we never got any money from them, and they left no address.
Cross-examined. I have found out since that the prisoner has been carrying on business with Powles for a number of years—I had no conversion with the prisoner, our dealings were with Powles—Powles did not told me the horses and vehicle were his—I did not see anyone bring them.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in Albert Godwin's bankruptcy—the Petition was filed on December 31st, 1902, by Arthur Charles Bourner, the act of bankruptcy being the allure to comply with the bankruptcy notice served on December 8th—an order for substituted service was issued on January 9th and that was published—the receiving order was made on January 23rd, 1903. and the prisoner was adjudicated bankrupt on February 7th, 1903—down to that date he had never appeared—on February 20th a warrant for his arrest was issued—I arrested him at Bedford—on March 11th Mr. Bourner was appointed trustee—on March 12th the debtor filed a statement of affairs, with net assets of £6 10s., cash at the bankers—the liabilities were £660 10s., the deficiency being £6546s.—among the creditors as Mr. Bourner for £100—the public examination began on March 16th and concluded on June 11th—there are upon the file the notes of the bankrupt's examination, presumably signed by him on each page. "Albert Godwin"—there was an order by the Court for prosecution on June 19th. [Extracts from the public examination were here read.]
Cross-examined, There was a judgment for £00 and costs, which made up Mr. Bourner's £100—with the exception of Mr. Powles for £400, he the largest creditor—I was not present at the examination.
HARRY RATTLE . I am Examiner in the Department of the Official Receiver Bankruptcy—I conducted the prisoner's preliminary examination, at which he said, "I did not remove any horses, carriages, harness, or any goods from the stables when I loft Holmesdale, as there was nothing there, all sold previously "; also, "When I left Dulwich I took £250 out of the bank, which I have since paid to my father-in-law in part repayment of £400 I owed him."
Cross-examined. I heard this morning for the first time that he had stated that he had not removed from Holmesdale, but that Powles had.
Re-examined The preliminary examination was long before the public examination.
Hampstead, and am a clerk in the London and Provincial Bank, Edgware Road—I do not know the prisoner—I know a Mr. A. J. Smith, who was present when I gave evidence before the Magistrate—the witness White-house, now in Court, is the "A. J. Smith "I know—he was a customer of the bank—on February 25th he came there, bringing a £50 note numbered 99217, which I changed—I gave him £10 notes, amongst them one numbered 31476—a George Russell is also a customer—on February 26th he paid in four £10 notes, one of them being 06050—on May 4th he changed a £50 note, 99218.
HARRY CULLIP . I live at New Gladstone Street, Bedford, and am a clerk in the Bedford Post Office—I was in charge there on January 6th, when this bank note, No. 60059, was paid by Albert Godwin for postal orders—"A. Godwin "is on the back—this £10 note was also paid in by A. Godwin on January 12th—it is endorsed with his name.
CHARLES HERBERT CLIFTON . I live at 37, St. Peter's Road, Bedford, and am a clerk to Stafford and Rogers, auctioneers, 83, High Street, Bedford—I recognise the prisoner—he bought two horses at a sale of stock held by us on January 24th, 1903, paying for them with a £10 note numbered K.293292 and coin.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether he bought them for himself or anybody else—I did not notice anyone with him.
HARRY WHITEHOUSE . I am known as "A. J. Smith," and live at Stanton Street, Upper George Street, W.—I am manager to a lady who carries on the business of a job master's commission stables in the name of "A. J. Smith"—I knew the prisoner when he was at Holmesdale stables—I heard that he there went by the name of A. J. Smith, and asked him not to do business in that name—I have known him as Scott—I recommended him to Lawton's, as he wanted to buy a carriage—I know Mr. Pearce, who has been here—it is Mrs. Smith's account at the bank, not mine—I have her permission to sign cheques as A. J. Smith—I am known there also as Whitehouse—in February last I went to the Bank to change a £50 note, which I got from Powles, and received £10 notes in exchange—I know Mrs. Powles—I had no transactions with her after cashing the note, but I had £5 in gold from Powles—I gave Powles nothing in return for the £50 note.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner all my life—I know that Powles has been carrying on a horse dealer's business practically all his life—I know that he has supplied the prisoner with money for his business, and I believe Powles employed him to buy horses for him.
Re-examined. I have been present when Godwin and Powles have bought horses.
ALEXANDER GEORGE LAIDLAW . I live at 5, Aspley Road, Bedford and am clerk to Harry Ball, an auctioneer, of Duke Street, Bedford—we ad a sale on March 10th, and under the Official Receiver's instructions, included certain furniture described as belonging to Albert Godwin—
I know Mrs. Powles—she attended the sale and bought several articles of furniture, which, with one exception, I believed belonged to Godwin—she paid a £10 note, No. 31476, and cash.
Cross-examined. They were articles of household furniture.
CHRISTOPHER WHITFIELD . I live at 13. Sovereign Road, Cambridge Street, Edgware Road, W., and am managing director to Whitfield's, Limited, cab proprietors and horse dealers—I have known the prisoner for fifteen or sixteen years as Goodwin—I became his bail in the Bankruptcy Court about February 27th, 1903—I have a foreman named Revens—I gave him a £50 note to change at Gardiner's, the clothiers, in Edgware Road—he brought part of the change back, and said they would give him the rest next morning—I got a £50 note from Mr. Powles that morning, but cannot say that was the one.
Cross-examined. I am in a large way of business, and get a large number of notes, including £50 and £100 ones—I cannot say for certain that this was the particular note received from Powles—the prisoner bought three horses from me five years ago, which Powles paid for—I have seen the two together at fairs and auctions—I have seen Powles pay for horses bought—if I had done any business with the prisoner and Powles had been there, I should have looked to Powles for the money.
Re-examined. This is my signature to the bail, dated February 27th, 1903.
THOMAS SHAW . I am manager of the hat department at Messrs. Gardiner's—I remember a £50 note being cashed by the last witness on February 27th, 1903—it was brought by the manager of Whitfield's—I do not know his name—I saw him hand it to Mr. Bowden, who consulted me about it, and it was cashed.
ALFRED BALL (Detective Sergeant.) On July 11th, 1903, I arrested the prisoner at Guy Street, Leamington, on a warrant charging him with causing a material omission to be made from his statement of affairs in bankruptcy—he said, "I suppose they are having another shot at me; I will come with you"—I took him to London—he was charged and made no reply—he informed me that he had no books or papers—I 'served a notice on him yesterday that further evidence would be put in [Exhibit 16], a letter of recommendation to Powles—he said, "It is quite right; I did write a letter: it is no good making a fuss about it'"—I found no books or papers.
Cross-examined. The letter referred to was, I believe, handed in by Mr. Crick, one of the witnesses—it was produced before the Magistrate.
GEORGE RUSSELL . I am a horse dealer, and carried on business at Brown's Court, Edgware Road—I had an account at the London and Provincial Bank, Edgware Road—I have known the prisoner as Godwin for some years—I do not know Powles—on February 26th I paid into my bank two £10 notes, but I do not know where I got them from—on
May 4th I remember changing a £50 note at my bank—I got it from a man at Shepherd's Bush for a horse I sold him—having changed the note, I gave him the difference.
Cross-examined. This was not the first time I had had a £50 note in payment for horses—we do not have a writing up of every horse dealing transaction.
GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.
NEW COURT—Tuesday, November 17th; and
THIRD COURT—Wednesday and Friday, November 18th and 20th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
18. ALFRED WILSON (17) and ALEXANDER CHAMBERY (18) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously breaking and entering the warehouse of Arthur Ogden, and stealing 100 postage labels, £2 4s. 10d., a coat and other articles, the property of Arthur Sutton, having been both convicted of felony at Guildhall, Wilson on April 23rd, 1903, and Chambery on April 15th, 1902. Three previous convictions were proved against Wilson and one against Chambery. Nine months' hard labour each.—
(19). LOUISE DE LIGNY* (32) , to unlawfully procuring Maria Gorrara, a girl under twenty-one years of age, to have unlawful carnal connection with a man. Discharged on her own recognisances. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(20). OWEN DOBSON (34) , to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of goods with intent to defraud; also to stealing and receiving two cases of cigars, the property of B. Morris and Sons, Limited, his masters; also to conspiring with Joseph Binstead and other persons unknown to cheat and defraud B. Morris and Sons, Limited; also to forging and uttering a writing purporting to be a certificate of stock in bond; and JOSEPH BINSTEAD (33) , to receiving the said cigars, well knowing them to be stolen. Twelve months' hard labour each. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
22. JOSIAH BURKE LYNCH (65) and MYLES MACPHAIL , Being a director and the secretary of the St. Helen's Buluwayo Association, Limited, did fraudently convert to their own use certain property of the said Company. Other Counts, Falsifying a book belonging to the said Company with intent to defraud, and omitting certain particulars from the books of the said Company.
MACPHAIL PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. ELDRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. ELLIOTT and MR. LAYMAN appeared for Lynch, and MR. BODKIN for Macphail.
JOHN DIXON . I live at Harewood House, near Crossbills, Yorkshire, and am chairman of the St. Helen's Buluwayo Association, Limited, which was incorporated on February 6th, 1894; this is the certificate of its incorporation—the registered office was at 10, St. Helen's Place—I am a shareholder in the Company—Lynch has acted as a director during the whole time I have been chairman, which is for six or seven years—by the minute book it appears that Lynch was appointed a director on
February 13th, 1894, and Macphail as secretary on March 29th, 1895—he remained secretary until his arrest—on July 5th, 1901, application was made to me by the secretary on behalf of Lynch for a loan of £300; this is the letter—(This stated that Lynch desired a loan of £300, and saying that he would lodge as security for the loan certain shares in the Simmer and Jack West Company.)—the application was granted, and a charge was given to the company on 200 Simmer and Jack West shares—this (Produced) is the charge, signed, I believe, by Lynch—on October 9th there was a further application to increase the loan to £450 for three months—that was agreed to on October 10th, and a cheque drawn for £150 in favour of Lynch—it is endorsed by him—the cheque for £300 was drawn on July 9th, 1901, by Lynch as a director, and is endorsed by him—I believe the loans were confirmed at a board meeting on November 1st, 1901—Lynch and Macphail were both present then—on February 23rd, 1902, a further application was made by Macphail on behalf of Lynch for a further sum of £250, and a cheque was drawn on February 26th, 1902, for that amount—it is signed in the same way as the others and endorsed by Lynch—that loan was confirmed at the board meeting on March 26th, 1902, Lynch and Macphail being present—when the loan was increased to £450 on October 9th, 1901, the company received this charge and also this one when it was increased to £700—on June 10th, 1902, an application was made by the secretary on behalf of Lynch to extend the loan by £200, lodging as security some shares in the Imani Company, making the total security £1,200—on June 11th I received this letter from Macphail—(Stating that Lynch wished to increase the loan by £300 instead of £200, and proposing to lodge 200 Matabele Sheba shares, which would give 30 per cent. cover)—the application to increase the loan to £1,000 was agreed to, and I believe on June 12th, 1902, a cheque was drawn for the further advance of £300—it is in favour of Macphail, drawn by Lynch and endorsed by Macphail—there was a power for one director and the secretary to draw cheques—by the minute book, Lynch and Macphail were present at the meeting on September 11th, 1902—the financial statement book was then produced; it was the practice of the company to have that book produced at every meeting of the company; it contains an account of the financial position of the company—amongst other things it would contain the amount of the loan to Lynch and the securities—each statement is numbered, and No. 80 says, "J. B. Lynch, £1,000." and then "Security, 200 Simmer and Jack West, 200 Imani, and 200 Matabele Sheba"—at each board meeting down to October 16th. 1903, a financial statement was produced, made up in the financial statement book—in the statements down to October 16th, 1903. those shares appear as the security for Lynch's loan—300 Antenior shares appear as a further security, but I only know of them from the book—the minute book shows that Lynch and Macphail were present from time to time at the board meetings down to August, 1903, and Lynch was present when the statement was produced in October; Macphail was away on his holiday—there was a steady fall in the South African market, and the directors became concerned for the value of their security, and on October 16th
it was decided to call in the loan—Lynch had been seen earlier with regard to it—on August 28th it had been reported to the Board that he was making arrangements to repay it; he was present then—the meeting of October 16th was adjourned till October 19th—on October 17th I sent for the security box, and it was opened in the presence of myself, Mr. Chisholme, and Mr. A. J. Macphail, who were two of my co-directors; neither of the prisoners were present—there was no certificate for Simmer and Jack West shares; this blank transfer was there (Produced.)—we found no Imani shares or any document relating to them—we found no Matabele Sheba shares—we found in the box the various charges, and also this document, giving a charge dated October 1st, 1901; penciled over the 1901 is 1902 (This gave a list of the securities, and was signed "J. B. Lynch.")—at the board meeting of October 19th Lynch was present; Macphail was not present—Lynch was informed that the box had been opened, and that the securities had gone—he was asked if he could give any information with regard to them—he said he could not, as he did not know—the meeting was adjourned until the next day, when Mr. A. J. Macphail produced this document—I have an idea that it is in Myles Macphail's writing, but I cannot swear to it—Lynch was present then—the document shows what had become of the shares—"Disposal, 130 Simmer and Jack West shares, transferred to A. D. Ford, proceeds handed to Mr. Lynch; 70 converted into four Matabele Railway debentures and subsequently handed to Mr. A. D. Ford for a consideration, which was handed to Mr. J. B. Lynch; 200 Main shares carried by T. J. I've and subsequently taken at T. J. I've, we will say the proceeds.; 200 Matabele Sheba shares transferred to A. D. Ford: D. Ford did the above business in good faith, and he will produce his cheques; understand all the above money went to pay differences."—that was read out by the solicitor of the company—Lynch was present; he threw all the blame on the secretary for parting with the securities—he said that he himself had not done it, that he was innocent, and did not know anything about it—he was then confronted with the transfer certificate of the Matabele Sheba shares, which was in the office for registration—the office of the Matabele Sheba Company is also at 10, St. Helen's Place—the transfer was executed by Lynch—he said that they had been lodged four or five days before for transfer, that he must have received the advice note that the shares were to be transferred from his name into that of another—it is for the company to advise the transferor that the transfer has been lodged—he produced a press copy of the advice note—we told him that he must have been aware of this, and that it had only happened four or five days before, and that he must have been aware where they were, and he admitted that he was aware of it—he went on to explain that he did not wish to admit anything until he had seen the secretary, that that was his excuse for not admitting anything on the day before, and that he supposed he himself was responsible and would have to suffer—there was a very long conversation; he got very agitated—this blank transfer for the Simmer and Jack West shares, Nos. 236502 to 236701, inclusive, has no date on it—I do not know whose
writing it is in—it was found when the box was opened—I do not remember ever having seen it before; it is signed by Lynch.
Cross-examined. I have known Lynch since 1895 or 1896; I have been a fellow director of his since that time up to his arrest—with the exception of this unfortunate matter, I have always found him to be straightforward and honourable—I placed great reliance in him—I did not know that he was a partner in Lynch, Beach and Company—I knew that he has been connected with Lloyd's for over forty years—the secretary would have the key of the security box—I am not aware that the directors have keys—so far as I know, the secretary was the only person who had a key, and unless he opened it, the directors, in the ordinary way, could not do so—the shares had never been transferred to the company—the transfer had never been through the company's books—whoever had removed the securities had left the charges which recorded their having been deposited; all the charges produced to-day came from the box—from those documents the company could, by means of them, trace exactly what shares were missing from the box—the means of identification had been left behind—when Lynch was first spoken to about the loss of the securities he was not more upset than the rest of the directors; we were all upset—he said that he himself was responsible, and would have to suffer, but that he was innocent—he never admitted that he had been a party to taking the securities away—when the matter was first broached to him he said that, owing to the absence of the secretary, he could not explain matters—he said he knew nothing whatever of the Antenior shares—I do not know, of my own knowledge, of any substitution of the securities—I do not know how it is that in the charge there are only 100 Simmer and Jack shares instead of 200.
Re-examined. I do not remember Lynch saying, that twelve months before he had parted with the Imani shares—we could not believe what he was saying, because we showed him the Matabele shares, which he must have known had been transferred.
ALEXANDER WALKER . I am a clerk in the office of Simmer and Jack West, Limited. 8, Old Jewry—I produce the share register of that company—on April 1st, 1901, there were 200 shares transferred into the name of J. B. Lynch—he was registered as the owner of them, Nos. 236502 to 236701—he held no other shares in the company—a certificate was issued for those 200 shares—on October 20th, 1902, that certificate was brought in to be split into three blocks—three certificates were issued instead of one: one was for 100 shares, Nos. 236502 to 236601; one for 70 shares. Nos. 236602 to 236671. and the balance of thirty was represented by a certificate, the numbers being 236672 to 236701—on November 13th, 1902, a transfer was lodged in respect to the block of seventy shares—that is a transfer from J. B. Lynch to somebody named Lazarus, it is executed by Lynch—the witness to Lynch's signature is Myles Macphail the consideration being £97 10s.—on June 8th, 1903, a transfer, dated May Kith, for 100 shares, Nos. 236502 to 236601, passed a board meeting for registration—it is the same block of shares for which we issued a certificate for 100; they are transferred from Lynch to A. D.
Ford; it is witnessed by Beckley, and there is a note on the back saying, "These shares are only put into the name of the transferee temporarily as security for a deal, and market value of shares has not been paid. Signed, Ford"—a transfer dated October 12th, 1903, was lodged for the thirty shares; they were transferred to Allen Douglas Ford—Lynch's address is given as Lloyd's—when a transfer is lodged for registration, we always advise the transferor.
Cross-examined. I have no specific recollection that we did so in this case; I could obtain the information—I have a great many transfers of a similar character—I have not seen Lynch in connection with any of these transactions; I never saw him until I saw him at Guildhall—I have now looked through the letter book, and find that we advised Lynch on October 12th that the transfer had been lodged—we had previously advised him on the other two occasions.
THOMAS ALFRED HENNINGTON . I live at 59, Wilberforce Road, Hendon, and am the Registrar of the Matabele Sheba Gold Mining Company, Limited—the registered office of the company is at 10, St. Helens Place—I produce the share register—on March 25th, 1902, a transfer of 200 shares to J. B. Lynch was registered; the numbers are 30601 to 30800—Lynch held no other shares in the company—a certificate was issued in due course—on October 12th, 1903, a transfer was executed by Lynch for the whole of those shares in favour of A. Douglas Ford; it was witnessed by Myles Macphail—on the same day I sent out an advice note that the transfer had been lodged for registration—Lynch's address is given as Lloyd's, E.C.—I am also the Registrar of the Imani Gold Mining Company, whose offices are also at 10, St. Helens Place—on January 6th, 1903, 200 shares were registered in the name of J. B. Lynch—he had lodged them for registration on December 2nd, 1902—he had no other shares in the company—on December 18th, 1902, before they were registered in Lynch's name, we received a transfer executed by him in favour of Frank Helder for the whole of them—Lynch was advised that that transfer had been lodged—the shares were registered both in Helder's and Lynch's names on January 6th, 1903.
Cross-examined. I never had any dealings with Lynch—no certificate was ever issued to Lynch in the Imani Company.
Re-examined. That was because before the shares were registered, we received a fresh transfer from Lynch for the shares, to somebody else—if we received a transfer from Lynch we should give a receipt for it—we issue receipts for transfers before the certificates are issued.
THOMAS JAMES I'VE . I am a member of the Stock Exchange, and carry on business at 28, Throgmorton Street—this (Produced) is my client's ledger—I had an account opened with Lynch, whom I knew—I received instructions to sell for the mid November account, 1902, 70 Simmer and Jack West shares—they were sold in the market, and delivered into the name of Alfred Lazarus—the transfer from Lynch was in my possession—at the same account he instructed me to buy £400 Mashonaland Railway bearer debentures, which I did, and on November 21st I bought another £100 of the same stock for him—I have had dealings with him in
other shares up to his arrest—when I closed the account it was then in debit to me about £40—I had also an account with A. J. Macphail—in the mid December account, 1902. 200 Imani shares were brought to me to contango—I do not know if Myles Macphail brought them, but they were in A. J. Macphail's account for Myles Macphail; the rules of the Stock Exchange do not permit me to have a speculative account for an employe; I had these things opened for Myles Macphail with the permission of his brother. A. J. Macphail—I contangoed the 200 Imani shares at one in the market; you can begin an account with a contango—I can borrow on the shares at the market price—we simply deliver the stock, take the money for it, and hand the money over, which is similar to a transaction of having purchased 100 shares in the next account—the 200 Imanis were placed in my possession, and I obtained money on them—cheque for £180 was paid to A. D. Ford on December 11th and there was a balance of £20 left in the account—the shares were carried over from account to account until June 26th, when they were taken up at by A. D. Ford, who paid £176 for them, which left Myles Macphail £16 8s. 11d. in my debt at the end of the account—I took proceedings against him for that amount—when the Imani shares were taken up I had a transfer for them: they were originally delivered to Frank Helder—they might or might not come back from him—this (Produced) is the transfer from Lynch for 200 Imani shares in A. J. Macphail's account, which I delivered to Holder; Myles Macphail brought the transfer from Lynch, whose address is given at Lloyd's—that was executed by Lynch.
Cross-examined, I knew Myles Macphail before I knew Lynch—I knew Lynch through him—I do not remember Lynch coming to my office, but I often saw him—I should not open an account without seeing him—any essential documents which were brought were generally brought by Myles Macphail—I had to get certain signatures for transfers, and those were brought back bearing, I suppose, Lynch's signature—I knew Myles Macphail was secretary to several companies; I do not know how many—I do not know if any of them were companies of which Lynch was not a director—I am not sure if it was he who first spoke about an account being opened in Lynch's name—I fancy he spoke to one of my half commission men, who would probably speak to me about it, and I consented to open an account, after inquiries—a half commission man is one who introduces business on half profits and half losses.
Re-examined. All the contract notes were posted direct to Lynch—I have not the slightest doubt that the two transfers were executed by Lynch.
ALEXANDER JOHN MACPHAIL ., I am a joint managing director of the Rhodesia and General Corporation, and am a director of the St. Helens Buluwayo Association I am a shareholder in both companies—this document which was submitted to the board meeting of the St. Helens Company on October 20th is in Myles Macphail's writing—it was read over by the company's solicitor in Lynch's presence, who said, "I take full responsibility in this matter; I know I have been a fool; I shall be glad when I am in gaol"—I have looked at the financial statement, but
there is nothing in it to show that the 200 Simmer and Jack West shares, the 200 Imam, and the 200 Matabele Sheba have been disposed of—I believed they were the security for Lynch's loan until the time of these proceedings—the account book was passed round at every board meeting, generally by the chairman to Lynch, and then to the other side of the table—Lynch acted as vice-chairman—I had an account with Mr. Ive, and about the end of last year Myles Macphail asked my consent to carry over 200 Imani shares in my account—I consented, and on each Stock Exchange account day I received an account, which I generally passed to my brother, because it was entirely his matter—I had no idea that those shares were the property of the St. Helens Company—to my mind the shares did not really exist; the account was simply a speculative one—I held a considerable amount of shares in the Imani Company, and I did not think my brother was really speculating—as I was largely interested in the company myself, I did not look upon it as a speculation—at that time the company looked well.
Cross-examined. I do not think that I knew 200 shares had been charged to the St. Helens Company—I generally initialled the financial statement book as having seen it—all the directors generally did was to compare the bank balance with the bankers' letter, to see that they agreed with the financial statement—I did not say at Guildhall that Lynch had said that he should be glad when ho was in gaol—I mentioned it to the solicitors and to Mr. Church—I do not recollect Lynch saying that he was innocent.
Re-examined. An entry was made in the minute book, of what Lynch said—I knew that the security for Lynch's loan was from time to time entered in the book.
CHARLES FREDERICK BURTON . I am a partner in Burton, Cook and Company, chartered accountants, of 7, Lawrence Pountney Hill—we are the auditors of the St. Helens Buluwayo Association, Limited—the last audit took place in the early part of December, 1902, and on December 16th I went with the secretary, Myles Macphail, to the company's bankers, the Union Bank of Scotland; the security box was produced, which the secretary unlocked, and I examined the securities for Lynch's loan—there was a certificate and blank transfer representing 200 fully paid shares in the Matabele Sheba Gold Mining Company, a transfer receipt and blank transfer in respect of 100 Simmer and Jack West shares, and bearer bonds for 400 Mashonaland Railway debentures, and 300 Antenior Matabele Mining Company debentures—there was an agreement which provided for a certain margin, and the margin did not appear to be sufficient—I called the secretary's attention to that, and I received this letter from him—(Stating that he had obtained a further £100 cover from Lynch)—the fact that these different shares were the security for the loan would not be stated in the balance sheet—the amount of the loan would be stated there.
ALLEN DOUGLAS FORD . I am a commission agent, of 1, Royal Exchange Buildings—I know the prisoners, and have had various transactions with them—I knew Macphail in 1896 as the secretary of some companies—on September 25th, 1902, he brought me a certificate for thirty shares in the
Simmer and Jack, in the name of J. B. Lynch, and wanted me to lend money on them—I said I could not do so, and drew his attention to the fact that the shares were not his property, and asked if I could deal with the owner—on the same day I drew a cheque in favour of Lynch for £100 (Produced), which I handed to Macphail—it is crossed and is endorsed by Lynch—Macphail entered into a loan agreement with me—I had seen Lynch at the offices of the St. Helens Buluwayo Company before I lent the money—I told him I should like to sec him in reference to the loan and he said, "See Macphail"—I had a letter signed by Lynch directed to Macphail, who brought it to me—(Dated September 26th, 1902. saying that Macphail could use thirty of his Simmer and Jack shares to raise money on and hoping that he would not want it for long)—I also received a certificate and blank transfer for thirty shares, the transfer being signed by Lynch—those remained in my possession until October 12th, 1903). when I took them to the company for registration—on January 29th. 1903. Macphail brought, me a certificate for 100 shares in Simmer and Jack West, which stood in Lynch's name on the blank transfer—I advanced £200 on them, the cheque being drawn in favour of Lynch, and it bears his endorsement—it was crossed and then opened again—I put "Please pay cash "on it—on February 12th I lent another £60 on those shares—this is the cheque for it; it is made payable to Lynch—it was about five minutes to four when the transaction was done, so I cashed the cheque myself and sent the notes over to Lynch by Macphail, and kept the receipt (Produced), which is all in Lynch's writing—on May 15th, 1903, I took the transfer of those 100 shares to the company for registration in my name—this is the transfer—it is dated May 16th—it is executed by Lynch—it was passed on June 8th—on March 12th, 1903, I lent £50 on the security of 200 Matabele Sheba shares in the same way that I had lent money on the others—that was paid by cheque drawn in Lynch's favour, and endorsed by him—I received a blank transfer and a certificate of those shares—I have since lodged the paper for registration—my name was filled in when I lodged it—this (Produced) is the transfer from Lynch to me—on December 2nd, 1902,1 received 200 Imani shares from Myles Macphail—I gave him £162 10s. for them—that was not a loan, it was a purchase for cash—the cheque is drawn in Lynch's favour, and is endorsed by him—I sold those shares at a profit to Mr. Ive—I think I handed him the same transfer that I received—this (Produced) is a transfer from Lynch to Holder—I probably held it, but I have no means of identifying it—it has not got my name on it—the three agreements are signed by Lynch—I bought some Mashonaland Railway debentures from him—I have no record of them—I do not know how many I bought, or when it was—it was last yea—there was an advance made on some which I had the right to take if the loan was not repaid in a certain time—I have not got the cheque in relation to them—they were bearer debenture bonds. So there was no transfer—I keep no books: all my business is done with a stockbroker—it all goes through his books—there were 200 debentures, and they were a little above par.
Cross-examined. I knew Macphail first, and had had some transactions
with him before I was brought into contact with Lynch—Lynch never came to my office to my knowledge—his authority was produced to me by Macphail—I was at the St. Helens Company office nearly every day—I may have gone to see Lynch sometimes—when I first spoke to him about the matter he said, "I have a board meeting; please arrange with Macphail," or something like that.
Re-examined. The shares that Macphail brought to me were Lynch's—I do not think a loan could be raised on them without his signature—I should not have lent money on them without his signature—I think all the cheques went through Prescott's Bank, except one.
JESSE CROUCH (Detective). On October 22nd I received a warrant from Guildhall, and on the 23rd I saw Lynch at his solicitor's office, where he surrendered to me—I told him I was a detective officer, and cautioned him—on the advice of his solicitor he said nothing—on the way to the station he said, "Is Macphail locked up? Macphail is a scoundrel; he has let me in for this"—the same evening, about 6 p.m., Macphail surrendered at the police office at Old Jewry.
Cross-examined. Lynch surrendered to me by arrangement—I had no difficulty in the matter.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that Macphail had said nothing to him about taking the securities in order to raise loans on them; that he did not that any of the transfers he signed were connected with his security for the loans, as the transfers were generally in blank; that about a month before Macphail went for his holiday he told him (Lynch) that all the securities had gone, and were all in Ford's hands, but that he did not know of it till then; that he had had suspicions that Macphail was not acting squarely, but he had no idea that it was in reference to the St. Helens security; that he did not know there was a security box, and had never had access to it; that when Mr. Dixon asked him to repay the loan he said that he was not responsible for it, and that it was not his business, and that he was perfectly innocent. He admitted that when Macphail was going away he said he was not coming back; that he could not explain writing to Macphail and telling him that he might use thirty of his Simmer and Jack West shares; that he had signed agreements in blank, so that anybody could put what they liked into them; that the money received for the shares he may have handed to Macphail, but he did not know on what security the money was paid by Ford; that some of the security was accommodation bills, some of which he had repaid; and that the whole of his business was done in a most careless way. (Lynch received a good character.)
GUILTY . The prosecution stated that Macphail was the dupe and tool of Lynch. MACPHAIL— Six months' hard labour LYNCH— Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. MUIR and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted.
FRANK JAMESON . I am a land agent and surveyor, of 77, Chancery Lane, W.C.: my firm is Moss and Jameson—I am agent for the owner of No. 1, West Smithfield and 27, King Street, adjoining—there is a passage
there which goes under the Newmarket Hotel—the owners have" a right of access through that passage—this plan (Produced) was prepared in our office, and correctly shows the position of the premises and passage—there is, I believe, a gate to the passage, which is shut at night.
GEORGE NASH ANDREWS . I am a clerk to Mr. William Hale, the solitor, of Messrs. Young, Jones, and Co., 7, Lawrence Pountney Lane—he is solicitor to the landlords of the Newmarket Hotel, which is sub-leased—I produce a deed dated April 8th, 1903, relating to the right of way by the passage under the hotel—I also produce the Newmarket Hotel lease, dated April 26th, 1896, which includes the passage, subject to a right of way.
GEORGE SHARPE (230, City.) I am acquainted with the making of plans—I made this plan of the Newmarket Hotel—it shows King Street on the right hand, and the passage at the bottom—it shows an entrance from the passage to the public bar of the hotel, and then one into the saloon bar—I also took this photograph (Produced).
WILLIAM NEWALL (City Detective.) I took these two photographs—one shows the outside of the hotel and the entrance to the passage, and the other shows the entrance to the passage—I had not a very good light, and there were people moving in and out, which caused the photographs to be blurred.
COLBY WINDETT (City Detective.) I kept watch on the Newmarket Hotel from September 22nd till October 8th—on September 22nd I was in plain clothes—I saw the prisoner standing in the doorway of the public bar, and saw him receive slips of paper and money, and separate the money from the paper and put the money in his pocket—I handed him a paper with a bet on it, "Rightwell. 1s. each way," and gave him the 2s. for it—he opened the paper and said, "I don't know you"—I said, "I've not started work around here long"—he walked up the passage, opened the paper, looked at it, put it in his pocket with the money—I went back into the public-house—I saw him take seven or eight bets—there were generally two barmen serving—I also saw the manager—the prisoner said to the manager, "Let me know if he comes in," but I could not hear any more then—I was there about three-quarters of an hour, I went again on the 24th about one o'clock—the prisoner was in the private part of the saloon bar, the part marked with a black cross on this plan (Produced)—he was talking to the manager—he looked round, nodded, and walked out into the passage—a man followed him out and gave him a slip of paper and money—I said to the prisoner, "I have got a bit to come"—he pulled out a black book and said, "You have got 4s. 9d. to come"—I said, "Give me 2s. 9d. and take this slip," being a slip with another bet. 1s. each way on Simon Glover at Folkestone, any to come, on Doncaster Beauty colt—he said, "Give me 3d., and I will give you 3s."—I asked him if he would have a drink—he shook his head and returned to the public bar—I saw him go out after, and join men in the passage seven or eight times—two of the men made out their slips in my presence—I went on the 25th. Friday—the prisoner came into the bar with two or three other men talking about racing—I made another bet with him
—I saw him on the 26th in the saloon bar, talking to the manager, about 12.30; after I had been there a few minutes he beckoned to me to come round—I went into the passage and met him opposite the door of the saloon bar—he referred to his book and said, "You have got 2s. to come"—the horse had not run—a man borrowed my newspaper, looked at it, took a piece of paper out of his pocket, wrote the name of two horses down, and signed it—I went there again on the 28th—the prisoner came to the door of the public bar, looked towards me, and went back to the saloon bar, and talked to the manager—I went into the passage—he came out and I handed him a slip of paper and Is,—I said, "What is your limit for the big race?"—he said, "33 to 1"—I said, "For a place?"—he said, "8 to 1"—I said "Have you got one of your cards"—he said, "No, but I will bring you one up"—the next time I went was on October 5th, about one o'clock—I was in the public bar—prisoner was talking to the manager in the saloon bar—I saw him receive two or three slips of paper and money—I beckoned him into the passage and made another bet with him, Gower 1s. each way—I said, "I am backing my old fancy"—he said, "I will tell you what will win; Liquidator"—I overheard part of a conversation between the prisoner and the manager—the manager said, "It would be a pity if we get done in"—I went again on the 6th about 1.10 o'clock—he said to me, "You have got 4s. 6d. to come"—I said, "That is right," and he gave me 2s. 6d. and a 2s. piece—I asked him for his card again, and he said he had not got it, but said, "They all know my limit"—I went again on October 7th—the prisoner was in the saloon bar talking to the manager—he beckoned to me to come into the passage—I went there and gave him a slip of paper and 1s. for another bet—I left about 1.30; the prisoner was there when I left—I went again on the 8th—I saw the prisoner dressed in a long butcher's smock, in the public bar, and one of the barmen said to him, "Dodger, here is a client"—that was the first time I heard him called that—he turned round and said to me, "You had b---r----luck yesterday," referring to my bet—I walked towards the door leading into the passage and gave him a slip and 2s—the barman could see me—the prisoner then went to the saloon bar—I went on the next day, the 9th, and saw the prisoner—he was then wearing his ordinary clothes—he looked at me, walked into the passage, and up to the saloon bar—I followed and beckoned him out into the passage—I handed him 1s, and a slip of paper—he said, after he took the slip, "I want to speak to you; are you anything to do with the splits?"—I said, "I don't know what you are talking about"—he said, "Come inside"—I followed, and he said, "Are you anything to do with the detectives?"—I said, "I don't know what you are talking about"—he said, "I was served with four blisters yesterday"—I said, "Did the detective see me bet with you?"—he said, "No, but someone else said they thought you was in the splits"—I said, "Well, they want something to talk about"—then he went away, and I went every day.
ROBERT LYON (Police Inspector D.) On September 25th I went to the Newmarket Hotel dressed in ordinary clothes—I saw the prisoner going from one bar into the other—I saw about eleven persons hand him slips
of paper and money in the passage—I went again on October 1st, and saw him receive eight slips and money from various persons—I obtained four summonses against him, and served him on October 8th—I did not know his name—he was described in the summonses as Long Tom—he did not answer to the summonses at the hearing on the 14th—then I got a warrant and arrested him in a public house in the New Kent Road—he said, "I do not know that I am the man now"—I said, 'I am satisfied you are the man"—he said, "If I have done anything wrong why did not you take me with two other people; any papers I take for other people does not make me a bookmaker; I have been a hard working butcher in the market for fifteen years."
FREDERICK HOLMES (Police Inspector.) On September 26th I went to the Newmarket Hotel—I saw the prisoner at a quarter to one, and three different persons handed him slips of paper and money in the passage—I was only there about five minutes—I went again at about a quarter to two—he was in the saloon bar—two men handed him slips and money—the manager was behind the bar, and the barmen, and could see what was going on—I went again on the 29th—he was in the saloon.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he was a butcher in Smithfield Market, and served the hotel with meat, and he was innocent of the charge.
GUILTY . One month's imprisonment.
MR. GANZ Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
REBECCA WRIGHT . I am wife of Arthur Wright, of 370, Kennington Road—on the evening of October 12th I had been to the Tivoli Music Hall with Mrs. Pickering—I went into Charing Cross Station alone, and met Mrs. Pickering again in Villiers Street, and was talking to her outside the Craven public house when the prisoner came out and asked me to lend her 6d.—I said, "I have not got one"—then she struck me on my ear with her hand, with a knife in it—I saw the knife—I put my hand up to my ear and found a lot of blood—Mrs. Pickering came between us, and she got a blow on her nose—the prisoner then struck me on my stomach on the left side—I am wearing the coat I had on then—I went with Mrs. Pickering to Gatti's Restaurant, and they lent me a towel—I washed, and went on to Charing Cross Hospital—about twelve o'clock I went to Bow Street, and did not see prisoner again till a night or two afterwards in the Strand, and pointed her out to a policeman—I told him there was a warrant out for her arrest, and he arrested her.
Cross-examined. I had not known the prisoner for some time—I have known Mrs. Pickering a long time—when the prisoner came out of the Craven I had not been in the house—Mrs. Pickering came out—we talked, and then I went to Charing Cross Station—I believe Mrs. Pickering went into the Craven—I did not see her go in—I met her there afterwards by chance—I do not go to the Strand every day—I said at the police court I had only seen the prisoner once previous to the night of the attack—
I had not seen her three times before the affair—I had never had any quarrel with her of any kind—there was no reason why she should ask me for 6d.—it was a small pen knife that she wounded me with; I saw it distinctly—it went through my clothes into my flesh—the first blow was a stab on the ear—she did not hit me on my shoulder with her fist—I do not know Mrs. Reece, a lady who came out of the Craven—there was no cabman there—a few people collected—I did not use a filthy expression to the prisoner as she came out of the Craven—I did not go into the Craven—I have been there before, but not once or twice a week—I heard no bad language, and the prisoner did not call me anything when I refused her the 6d.—I did not see Mrs. Pickering strike her—I thought Mrs. Pickering had come out of the Craven, as she was standing outside.
Re-examined. I am wearing the same overcoat I had on at the time.
JANE PICKERING . I am the wife of George Henry Pickering, a horse dealer, of 9, Boyson Road, Camberwell—on the night of October 12th I went to the Tivoli Music Hall with Mrs. Wright—we came out about 10.45 and walked to Charing Cross—I said "Good night" to her and went into the Craven public house—I saw the prisoner there—she said "Good evening "to me as I went in—I stayed there about ten minutes—nothing happened while I was there—when I came outside she followed me—whilst I was standing outside, thinking which way to go, Mrs. Wright came up, and the prisoner came out whilst Mrs. Wright was there, and asked her for 6d. for a drink—Mrs. Wright refused her, and the prisoner struck her on the ear—I saw a penknife in her hand as she went to strike her a second time, and I got in between, and received a stab on my nose and lip—when the prisoner came the second time I said, "Do not strike her again; she is about to become a mother"—she made a third blow at Mrs. Wright, and directly she had done it she ran away—I took Mrs. Wright down into Gatti's and bathed her face—we went over to Charing Cross Hospital from there, saw a doctor, and had the wounds upon her ear and my face dressed—then we got into a cab and went home—I did not see the prisoner again till after the warrant was issued—on the way home Mrs. Wright was complaining in the cab, and said, "She must have done something to me, I feel so sore"—she undressed herself, and there was where the knife had gone in her coat—there was a cut where the point of the knife had penetrated—we went back next day to the hospital and got the surgeon to attend to the wound.
Cross-examined. I do not live with Mrs. Wright—we were friends—it was about 9.30 when the prisoner was arrested—I was not going to a theatre with Mrs. Wright—we went to see if we could find the prisoner—I am not often in the Strand—I did not think I was going to see Mrs. Wright again after I said good night to her—the barman of the Craven did not turn me out, he turned the prisoner out—the manager did not request me to go—there were no gentlemen there at the time—I did not say at the police court that the prisoner struck my friend on the shoulder and asked her for 6d.—I will swear it—the first blow was on the left ear, with a small pocket knife—she did not strike her with her fist—I
saw the knife—she then struck her in the stomach with a knife—she never told the doctor when we first went to the hospital about the stab in the stomach—we did not have anything to drink at the Tivoli—we had a drink when we came out—I had not been to the Craven with Mrs. Wright—I was there alone—my husband was not with me—I was asked at the police court if I had been there with Mrs. Wright, not if I had been there alone—I struck the prisoner seven or eight years ago, for which I got six weeks—I have not been charged since—I did not knock her teeth out; a man did it, but I suffered for it.
Re-examined. I do not know Ethel Reece—I did not hear Mrs. Wright use a filthy expression to the prisoner, or any bad language by anyone—Mrs. Wright was not in the house.
By MR. HUTTON. The prisoner struck me before she struck Mrs. Wright—she took the knife out of her right hand pocket; a small pocket knife already open—I was not told to leave the house—a man named Davitt did not tell me to go and see her off the premises.
ALFRED GRAY . I am manager of the Craven public house, Villiers Street—on the night when this attack took place, I heard an altercation in the private bar—I ordered the prisoner out about 11.20—she was talking to a person whom I recognise as Mrs. Pickering—I ordered her to go, as I had previously cautioned her about coming into the place—I saw her strike Mrs. Pickering.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner struck Mrs. Pickering it was a smack in the face—that was just inside the door in the first place—I saw nothing in her hands when the barman seized her by the wrist.
JOSEPH MCDAVITT . I am barman at the Craven—on October 12th, about 11.15 p.m., I was serving in the public bar—I heard the governor's voice asking somebody to leave—I got over the bar and told Mrs. Pickering to go out, and she left—I then came back and put the prisoner out.
Cross-examined. I took hold of the prisoner's hands—there was nothing in them at all I had seen Mrs. Pickering in the house several times—I had not seen the prisoner there recently.
DAVID BRIDGER . I am house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—about midnight on October 12th Mrs. Wright came with Mrs. Pickering—I examined Mrs. Wright, and found a small incised wound on her face about a quarter of an inch long—I did not probe it—it had been caused by a sharp instrument, such as a pocket knife—she came again next morning and showed me another wound on her abdomen, similar to the one on her face, and her garments were cut through and bloodstained—the wound might have been inflicted twenty-four hours before—nothing was said of the wound in the stomach the night before—I treated the other woman for one or two small wounds on her nose—the wound in the stomach was not a dangerous one.
HARRY NEWELL (430 E.) I was on duty in the Strand on October 15th—Mrs. Wright pointed to the prisoner and said she was wanted on a warrant for assault—the prisoner said it was an old grievance of eight years ago—I took her in charge.
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she lived with a man engaged in the Strand on night work, and, was in the habit of meeting him between nine and ten at night, but had not met him on this occasion; that she went into the Craven with a young lady, and Mrs. Wright and Mrs. Pickering entered with a man, and they had drink, and when they were going out Mrs. Wright used a foul expression, and she replied that she was a lady; that she asked her to come out, and Mr. Gray came up then, and the prisoner; that they walked away, and she remained; that there was no quarrel; that Mrs. Pickering came back and called for bitter ale, and two or three minutes after Mrs. Wright entered with five others, and directly after she struck her (the Prisoner) on her face, and she returned the blow; that Mrs. Pickering then set on to her, and her hat was torn and her face scratched and blouse torn; that the barman asked them to leave, and when she got outside she was set upon again by both of them; that she had no knife, and did not carry one, but defended herself as best she could; that she thought Mrs. Pickering was making some complaint about her; that if Mr. Gray and McDavitt said they never saw anything of the two women setting upon her, they were not speaking the truth, but that she did slap Mrs. Pickering's face to defend herself; that the barman did not turn her out, but asked her to leave; and when she got outside, Mrs. Wright and Mrs. Pickering both set on to her and hit her about her face, and she dropped her umbrella in the scrimmage, and Mrs. Pickering picked it up and carted it off; that she never struck Mrs. Wright in the stomach, neither was she informed that she was about to become a mother.
Evidence for the Defence.
ETHEL REECE . I live at 92, St. George's Road, Southwark—I was not at the police court, but was suboenaed to come here—I was at the Craven with the prisoner on the night of the assault at about quarter to ten—I have known Jane Pickering about five or six years—the two women came in after I was there and a man.
Cross-examined. Rebecca Wright called the prisoner a foul name, to Which the prisoner retaliated, "You are a lady"—they challenged her to Come outside, and she said "Yes"—when the man asked her to come out he refused—I remained in the public house—shortly afterwards Mrs. Pickering returned alone—then Mrs. Wright returned with some men, cannot say how many, and Mrs. Wright struck the prisoner a blow, and hey were turned out of the Craven—I still remained—I did not see what book place outside—I saw no weapon in the prisoner's hand.
Re-examined. I remained in the public house—I do not know what happened after they got into the street.
NOT GUILTY .
25. EVERARD NEAVE, otherwise NELMA (24), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing diamond ring, the property of Hyland's, Limited; also a diamond pin, the property of John Elkan; also another diamond pin, the property of Thomas Pickford , Three years penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 18th, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended.
ELLEN BENSTEAD . I live at 22. Wharfdale Road, King's Cross—I am the prisoner's sister—she was living with her husband—she has six children now living—her last child, the boy Ernest, was born on August 22nd—she was very depressed—she was attended by a doctor—she seemed to get on nicely—on September 25th, about 10 a.m., she brought the baby to my room—she said, "Auntie, here's your boy"—she said she had had a troublesome night with the baby, and asked me if I had heard him cry—I replied no—I had heard him cry—she took him down stairs, saying that she would wash and dress him, and perhaps that would make him sleep—she came again to my room about 10.15, and asked me if I would fetch her some beer—I said it was rather early, as she did not usually have it so early in the morning—I fetched her half a pint of beer—I gave it her at her bedroom door—I did not go into the room—about ten minutes later she called out and asked me if I would attend to her meat, which was in the oven, cooking—I went down at 11.10—I missed her and the baby—I thought she had taken it with her—about 12.30 her husband came in—I asked him if he knew, where my sister had gone, as I had missed her since 11.10—I had looked for her in the back room—I was in and out all the time—I made a further search with her husband—I found the baby in a pail half filled with water close against the bedstead—it was wet, and quite dead—I sent for Dr. Cotter—I searched for my sister—I next saw her in Winchester Street—her husband was with me—I asked her where she had been—she replied, "Only for a little walk," and that she had not had a cup of tea—I took her back home—I said nothing more—I next went to the station and told the Sergeant I had found my sister—he came, and she accompanied him to the station.
Cross-examined. The children sleep in the room—it is used as a living room in the daytime—the bed was made—it looked as if the baby had been picked of it—it slept on a blanket—the pail was about 15 in. high—I had seen my sister depressed about twelve months ago—she was taken to an infirmary, having attempted suicide—for three months she had been very funny—when I found her she seemed strange, quite stupid—I do not think she knew what she was doing—she seemed quite well in the morning—the baby was not dressed—the blanket fell off him as we took him out of the pail—he only had its night dress and a blanket round him.
PATRICK GALLAGHER COTTER , M.D. I live at 57, Caledonian Road—I attended the prisoner just before her confinement, the last time on August 21st, for abdominal pain and low spirits, such as one expects in a pregnant woman—after the confinement I next saw her in the dock at the police Court—on September 25th. about midday. I was called
to 22; Wharfdale Road, where I saw the dead body of a male infant about five weeks old on the bed—its clothes were all wet—it had been dead for some time—I made a post mortem examination the following day—death was due to suffocation from drowning.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was depressed and low spirited when I saw her—I was not surprised to find her suffering from puerperal mania, I did not anticipate anything of the kind—I saw the bed—the position of the pail was pointed out to me—it was quite close to the head of the bed, not at the side.
EDWARD LAWRENCE COUNTER . I am divisional surgeon—on September. 25th, about 9 p.m., I saw the prisoner at King's Cross Police-Station—I examined her—I found her mind unsound—she was not responsible for her actions—she suffered from puerperal melancholia or mania—I endeavoured to converse with her, but all I could get was that she did not want to be there—she said, "I do not want all these men, what are they all doing here? I want to go away, "referring to the policemen.
Cross-examined. Puerperal mania in conjunction with unsoundness of mind occurs before child birth, during pregnancy, during the birth, and during lactation—it shows itself in various forms, attempts at suicide and often an attempt of the life of the child.
GUILTY, but not responsible for her actions. To be detained till His Majesty's pleasure be known.
NEW COURT—Wednesday, November 18th, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(28) ALLAN CLAUDE WELLER (22) to obtaining £1,000, £1,000, and £800 from Margaret Miller Innocent Murphy by false pretences with intent to defraud. Fifteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] and
(29) JOHN CANNINGTON PETTIT (38) to fraudulently converting to his own use £56 17s. 11 1/2d., the moneys of The Elder Tree Loan Society The amount was handed back in Court to the prosecuting society). Three days' imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. JENKINS Prosecuted; MR. RANDOLPH Defended.
JOSEPH RITTER . I live at 53, Parkholme Road, Dalston,. and am a picture frame maker at 17, Balls Pond Road, London—I drew a bill of exchange for £20, which was accepted by Joseph W. Lewin—I have town the prisoner two or three years—he is a builder—he and I are embers of a club that meets at the Norfolk Arms, Norfolk Road, Dalston—on July 29th I saw him there and asked him if he could get a bill discounted for me which he promised to do, and hand me the proceeds in couple of days, because it would take, that time for the document to
pass through the bank—I handed him the bill—nothing was said about deducting expenses, only the bank charge—I was to have the net proceeds—I went to 2b, Englefield Road, Dalston the next evening and handed the prisoner the bill—I called at the house again a few days after, but could not see him—I again called a few days after, but did not see him—his wife handed me this letter, dated August 12th, "Dear Jo., I have not been successful in getting your bill done, I am sorry to say; I have placed it in another quarter to-day, where it might be more successful, and shall know the result on Friday"—I did not get the money—I called again—I received another letter from the prisoner in these words, "Dear Jo., No letter to hand re bill, I am sorry to say; I will make it my business to see the people this morning and see if I can get the matter settled—yours truly, ARTHUR J WEIBKING"—a few days after I received another letter from him with an enclosed letter from "A. Haynes"—(This stated that the bill would be discounted and the cash forthcoming the next Thursday.)—I did not know who Haynes was at that time—I wrote to the prisoner and called again at his house on September 5th—I saw him and asked for my money—he replied, "I was in need of it, I have had it, and found it came in very handy"—I said, "Don't you think you have done me a very dirty trick?"—lie replied, "Oh, well, you have got to do all kinds of things"—I have never had a penny of the bill.
Cross-examined. I got the bill on July 27th, and the prisoner was the first person I took it to on the 29th—he said he would let me have it back in two days time—I think I did say that at the Police Court—he said it would take two or three days for the bill to pass through—I swear he was the first one who had the bill—Mr. Proust never had it—he lives at 135, Sandringham Road—I asked Proust if he could get it discounted for me—it was then about a day old—he did not say that he would see Mr. Young, the manager of the London and Provincial Bank, Kingsland—I had been to Mr. Young with another bill, and he would not do it—I then asked Mr. Proust to see what he could do—I say that the prisoner said that he had had the money and that it had come in very handy, and I told him he had done me a very dirty trick—I do not know why I did not mention that at the police court—I did not attach much importance to it.
Re-examined. I have no vindictive feeling in the matter—if I had had the money even at the eleventh hour, I could not have prosecuted; the whole matter would have dropped.
HENRY ARCHIBALD SMITH . I am a clerk in the London Trading Bank, Limited, of 12, Coleman Street, City—I produce a bill of exchange for £20 and a certified copy of the ledger account of A. Weibking and Company, Limited—I see an entry on August 14th that the bill was discounted and put to the credit of that company—the balance on the morning of that day was £5 3s.—then the £20 was paid in and £80—on the same day £34 6s., £3, and £81, with charges 12s. 3d. were drawn on the account—on August 15th there was a cheque to Haynes for £25—the prisoner had a private account at the bank—the company's account was under the control of the two partners at the beginning—since February, only the prisoner has drawn on it.
Cross-examined. The prisoner could, as far as I know, have put the bill through his private account—there would have been more than £20 on August 14th that could have been drawn on, but for a bill of £34 that we held.
Re-examined. The balance at the end of the day on August 14th was £13 15s. 3d.
ARCHIBALD HAYNES . I live at Canonbury, and was employed as clerk by A. Weibking and Company, Limited, until September 14th, when the company went into liquidation—I constantly saw the prisoner—he handed me a bill of exchange for £20 about August 8th or 9th, and asked me if I could discount it, but I could not, nor could I get it done, so I handed it back to him about August 9th or 10th—he asked me to write him a letter, which I did, saying that I had not then been able to get the bill discounted, but should be able to in a few days' time—the letter was untrue.
Cross-examined. I tried to get the bill discounted, but could not, so handed it to the prisoner—he did say he thought there would be money coming in at the end of the week for the company, which would enable him to draw a cheque on the company's account to meet the bill—the amount has been treated by the company's liquidator as a preferential claim, and I think there is enough of the company's property to meet it.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the bill was not handed to him on July 20th, but on August 8th; that he took it to his bank and asked them to discount it; and that when it was done he thought he should be able to draw a cheque to meet it, but had forgotten that there was another bill due; and he was not able to pay the money over.
GUILTY . Judgment respited.
FOURTH COURT—Wednesday, November 18th, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. T. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted.
WALTER CROFT . I live at 1, Stafford Place, Richmond, and am a clerk in the employment of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society—I produce a copy of the rules—rule 17 states that any member may nominate a person to receive money due by the Society, to his nominee at his death, and such member in registering the nomination is debited with the sum of 3d.—, those forms are written on yellow paper, and the forms for membership on blue paper—I believe William Page has been a member of the Society for thirty-three years—I only knew him as such—the form of nomination marked "A," dated March 19th, 1902, is 'marked as having been issued on March 10th, and returned to the society on the 22nd, 1902—it is in the following terms: "I, the undersigned, residing at 3, Fordingley Road, being a member of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society, do hereby nominate my friend James Edwin Spencer, residing at 95, Chippenham Road, and now of the age of twenty-five years, to receive any moneys payable by the said Society to my representative upon my death"—
the member who made the nomination appears, by the signature, to be William Page and to be witnessed by William Everleigh—James Edwin Spencer was a member of the society—his form of nomination is dated March 5th, 1902—that was before the yellow paper, which the Jury have in their possession, was issued—Mr. Page's name does not appear in that at all—it would not be necessary, though not usual, for Page to be a member of the society for the purpose of nominating anybody as receiver—I am not aware of any particular reason why Spencer became a member of the society.
WILLIAM PAGE . I am a coachman, of 3, Fordingley Road, and have been a member of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society thirty-three years—I can write my own name; I signed it to my deposition at the Police Court—the signature on Exhibit A was not signed by me—after reading this form, which purports to be a nomination by me of a man called Edwin Spencer to receive at my death whatever sum is due, I say I know nothing about it, nor did I ever intend to nominate Spencer or anybody else to receive my money—I am married, and my wife is living—I saw Spencer at the Police Court, but did not recognise him as ever having seen him before—I never on any occasion asked Spencer to fill up or write anything for me on this or any other form, nor did I ever ask Everleigh to do anything of the sort—some time in this year my wife went and paid 3d., with which I was debited by the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society, a charge which is made for registration, and that was the first time I discovered that I was supposed to have sent in a nomination—the prisoner lodged with me for over twelve months at my house, 3, Fordingley Road—I think he left me nearly two years ago, about February, 1902—he knew that I was a member of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society—I kept my certificate of membership hanging up in the room which he occupied—that had my number upon it, 17576.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not remember your coming to the coffee house where Spencer was in Chippenham Road, nor do I remember your asking Spencer if he would propose me to be a member of the Hearts of Oak Society—you did not bring Spencer over with his paper to me—that never happened—Spencer never came to my house until a fortnight ago, when he came to ask me if my wife could recognise him—I did not ask you to fill in a paper for me because I could not write—I do not remember asking you previous to this, two years ago, to fill in a paper called the Census Paper because I could not write—I do not remember the occasion at all.
JOSEPH SIMMONS (Police Sergeant D.) On October 16th I went to 228, Carlton Vale, Kilburn, and arrested the prisoner on this charge—he said, "I know nothing about it; I never belonged to the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society; you have got the wrong man"—at the Police station he said, "I know nothing about it"—next morning at the Police Court he said, "I have been thinking it over, and it has come to my mind that about eighteen months ago I signed a paper of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society for my landlord at his house; that is all I know, about the society."
Cross-examined. You said, "I signed it for my landlord to join"—if you meant it was not for your landlord but for Mr. Spencer, you did not say so.
THOMAS WHITE . I am a draper, of 198, Cambridge Road, Kilburn—the prisoner was formerly employed by me as book keeper—for that reason I know his writing—I have no doubt that Exhibit A is all in the prisoner's handwriting.
GEORGE DOUGLAS INGLIS . I am an expert in handwriting, and have carefully compared the prisoner's admitted writing in the book produced to me, with the writing upon the Exhibit—in my opinion, they are decidedly the same hand.
JAMES EDWIN SPENCER . I keep a coffee house in Camden Town—I formerly lived at 95, Chippenham Road—looking at Exhibit A I observe that James Edwin Spencer, of 95, Chippenham Road, is nominated to receive whatever sum is due to the representative of William Page on his death—I did not know that there was such a nomination form as this until this case started; I did not know anything about it, and neither the prisoner nor Mr. Page ever spoke to mo about it—the document by which I became a member of the Hearts of Oak. Benefit Society is this blue admission form contained in the book now shown to me—this is the form I signed to become a member—with the exception of the doctor's certificate, it is all in my own writing—I recollect signing it at 95, Chippenham Road, where I was employed—It is dated March 5th, 1902, as far as I recollect.
Cross-examined. At my coffee house one day I asked you if you knew anyone in the neighbourhood to propose me in the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society—you said you believed your landlord, Mr. Page, was a member of it, and would ask him to propose me—I came over one night with a paper, Mr. Page being there also—the paper he asked you to fill in was blue, not yellow, and Page only asked you to sign his name and number—there was nothing to fill in but this.
By the COURT. I asked Page to sign a paper, and Page asked the prisoner to sign it for him, and the prisoner was supposed to have signed it—I went with the paper to Page's house, but I cannot recollect whether the prisoner signed it or not—he was supposed to have signed it; I mean, it was given back to me, and I thought Page's name was on it.
WILLIAM PAGE (Re-examined). I see the prisoner now, but did not see him eighteen months back—I never saw him then at all—I hear what he says now, that he came to me eighteen months ago with a proposal form for membership of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society, and that I asked him to sign my name for me—I say I did not; there is not a word of truth in that at all—I became a member of this society in order that I might share in its benefits.
J. E. SPENCER (Re-examined.) I obtained first of all a blue form of admission for membership, and filled that up—a space is left for the name of the member who proposes you—I went round to Page's house to have filled in, but whether it was filled in or not I do not know—the form , which is in my writing, is not filled in so far as the prisoner is concerned
—at the time when I say this took place Mrs. Page was there besides myself and Everleigh—I went round about a fortnight ago to Mr. Page's house to see if Mrs. Page could recognise me—she was unable to do so, but I recognised her—I never had a yellow printed form—I do not say that the day on which I went to Page's house was some time before I signed that form—I signed the form shown to me on March 5th, and it was received at the office on March 7th—this is the paper, as far as I know, that I took to Page's house—it was blue.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was living at Mr. Spencer's coffee house; that Spencer asked him if he could recommend him to a member of the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society, and he said he believed his landlord was a member, and that he would propose him; that he asked Mr. Page, who said "Yes," and that Spencer went with him one night, and Mr. Page said, "Will you fill in the form, because I cannot write"; that he said he would do his best; that he did not thoroughly understand it, but filled in the form and signed it, and asked them both if they thought it would do, and they said "Yes," they thought that it was all right, and Mr. Spencer put it in his pocket; that he had not thought of it or heard anything about it until he was arrested: about eighteen months ago when he was fitting in the paper he did not understand it, but thought if it was wrong it could be sent back to be corrected by Mr. Spencer; that he was in the employment of a Mr. White to take his stock, and kept the book produced, but did not think his writing would be called good; that he did not know if I understood this form; but could read fairly well (Reading the form to the Jury).
J. E. SPENCER (Re-examined.) I never saw the yellow paper which the prisoner spoke of—I did not know there was such a paper, and I positively swear that it was not that paper which I took away.
The prisoner further stated that he did not understand the paper when he filled it in, and did not understand it now; that he was not a book keeper, but only had to make out bills; that it was just over a week after Spencer asked him to get somebody to nominate him that he went to Page's house; that he did not remember if Spencer showed him the blue form, and the only form he remembered was the yellow one, and that he expected he must have read the form without understanding it.
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
MR. BOULTON Prosecuted.
ARTHUR SIMMONS (City Policeman.) On October 18th, in the afternoon, I was in Middlesex Street—there was a large crowd, and Miss Hickman was standing on the outskirts of it—the prisoner was standing slightly behind her on the right side, sideways, somehow—I saw him stooping, looking this way—he then put his left hand under his right, and put it into Miss Hickman's right hand pocket—I saw his hand disappear—he then withdrew his arm and turned his back to me, and made his way into the crowd—the young lady looked round; she was confused, and exclaimed
that she had lost her purse—I followed the prisoner, brought him back to her, and asked her if she had lost anything—she said her purse had been stolen—I then asked the prisoner where it was—he replied in broken English, "This is the only purse I have got," and drew an old one from his pocket—on being sworn and charged at the police station, he stated through an interpreter that he was innocent of the charge.
The Prisoner (Interpreted.) If the policeman saw me taking out the purse, why did he not stop me there and then—nothing was found upon me, so why should they arrest me?
FLORENCE HICKMAN . On the afternoon of October 18th I was in Petticoat Lane, now called Middlesex Street—I had a purse in my right hand pocket containing £2 5s., a piece of a ring, and a stamp—I felt someone's finger just in the palm of my hand, which I had partly in my pocket—I felt a hand go into my pocket and snatch the purse away—I turned round sharply, and saw that old man (the prisoner) a small distance away, just standing up like that—the constable ran after him and took hold of him, when I turned round—there were a few people about who might have captured him.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I could not hold you when I felt your hand in my pocket because you moved away quickly.
ARTHUR SIMMONS (Re-examined.) The purse has not been found—I saw the prisoner's hand disappear into the pocket—he then pushed his way and rushed across the road, and I stopped him—it did not strike me that he had stolen anything until the young lady looked round.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that he had been in England five months; that he was standing in Petticoat Lane, and was suddenly held by a policeman, who said that he had picked someone's pocket; that he took out his own purse, and the constable asked the lady if it was hers, and she said "No," and he was taken to the police station; that had he been dishonest the authorities would not have given him a passport to come over to England, which is only given to honest people; that he came to England in June last with 200 marks of his own, which he had spent, and had nothing left.
GUILTY . At the suggestion of the Court, arrangements will be made to send the prisoner back to Roumania. Judgment respited.
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted.
HARRIS FIRESTEIN . I live at 101, Grove Street, St. George-in-the East—I am a teacher of Hebrew—on the night of November 11th, about 10.30,1 was going along Grove Street on my way home, and about three or four houses before my house I was suddenly attacked from behind, and somebody placed his hand on my throat—I was almost choked—one of them was holding my eyes, and the other took a purse from my pocket containing about 3s. or less, and two small keys—the prisoner came from behind—I could not see him—I was too much exhausted and upset to follow them.
NATHAN ROSENBERG . I live at St. George-in-the-East—about 10 p.m. on November 11th I was down James Street—I came down from Southwark—I wanted to walk round Commercial Road, so I went round Grove Street, and while there I saw the prisoner rush up behind the old man and put one hand round his throat and the other hand over his eyes—another man was with him, who put his hands down the old man's pockets—one of them took out the money, I suppose—I was on the same side of the street as the prosecutor; his face was towards me—when I saw this I rushed up, and the prisoner left go and wanted to rush past me—I tried to stop him, but he chucked me aside, and I fell against the wall—I recovered and ran after them—on the way some men tried to stop the prisoner and to hold him, but he knocked them aside—I kept on running after him until I saw another man try to stop him, but he started hitting the man—I came up behind and caught hold of his hand as he lifted it up—he went like this, so I thought he was going to use something, and I said, "Sam, catch hold of the other hand"—then a constable, hearing cries of "Stop thief!" came towards us—I saw the prosecutor in Grove Street—he could not talk—I asked him some questions.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I ran after you, I should say, for 100 yards—I did not lose sight of you—when you turned the corner out of Grove Street I kept about half a yard behind you—the man who first stopped you was probably afraid to come and give evidence against you, because you had "busted "his ear when he tried to stop you—I have never seen you before—although it was dark when you were arrested. I recognised you by your nose and chin, as the man I saw committing the assault.
By the COURT. There were other people about—I heard a woman screaming "Murder," and ran up and saw the assault take place.
FRANK GORDON (322 H.) I was in the neighbourhood of Grove Street on November 11th, between 10 and 11 p.m.—I heard cries of "Stop thief!" coming from Fairclough Street—I saw a crowd running away through Fairclough Street—I saw the prisoner there, running, with the others following—Rosenberg had hold of the prisoner when I got there—I asked the prisoner what was the matter and he stated that he was being set about by Jew boys—I asked Rosenberg what was the matter, and he stated that the prisoner had knocked a man down in Grove Street and robbed him—I took the prisoner back to Grove Street, and there I saw the prosecutor, who gave him into custody—the distance from the place in Fairclough Street where I came up with prisoner to the spot where I found the prosecutor in Grove Street was about 100 to 150 yards—I took the prisoner to the station, and when charged there he stated that the prosecutor could not have seen him do it, and he knew nothing at all about it—I searched him, and found 5d. in bronze.
Cross-examined. I have said that the distance between the prisoner where I arrested him and the spot where the assault took place was more than 300 yards, but I corrected it immediately after to 150—I first saw Rosenberg at Fairclough Street, when the prisoner told me that he had been
set upon by Jew boys—I did not say that it was a rough quarter, and that I had had a lot of trouble before.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had been to the Forest Music Hall with a young woman, and came out a little after 9, and left her about 10.30, and on his way home saw five chaps standing at the corner, one of whom passed a remark which he did not like, and he spoke to him about it, and was punched, and punched back again; that others closed round, and as he could not fight four or five, he ran for 100 yards, and was stopped by a constable.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at the North Lonhon Sessions on May 27th, 1902, and several other convictions were proved against him. Five years penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, November 20th, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
MR. BODKIN and MR. MURPHY Prosecuted; MR. ELLIOTT and MR. WATSON
FRANCIS ALLRIGHT (Detective Y.) Produced and proved plans of 19, Myddelton Square, Clerkenwell, and also a photograph of the back of the house, showing that a person, with the aid of the steps shown in the photograph, could easily get on to the top of the lavatory and then in at the landing window.
KATHERINE DENLEY . I am the wife of George Denley, of 31a, Danehurst Street, Fulham—the prisoner is my brother—his second wife died in 1898, when he came to live with me until he left to marry Mrs. Purkiss in 1899—on August 31st, 1903, he came again to live with me—I knew that he was then employed at Stubbs'—when he came on August 31st he had a black eye and a bruised forehead—I asked him how they were caused, but I cannot remember what he said except that they were caused in Myddelton Square—he remained with me up to October 6th—he had a week's holiday in the last week in September—he did not go away for that—on October 6th he left the house about 7.15 a.m., saying he would be a little later than yesterday, when he had come home between 2 and 3 p.m.—his holidays were over then—he had gone back to work on the Monday—October 6th was a Tuesday.
Cross-examined. While my brother lived with me he was quiet and well behaved—he was always home in the afternoon, and he never went out any more—he generally spent his evenings with me and my husband playing "Ludo"—he could not sleep, so he would not go to bed early—so far as I saw, he was kind and good natured—we had no quarrel while he was with us.
Re-examined. We used to play "Ludo" till 11 or 12, or perhaps 1 or 1.30—the prisoner had a separate bed room to himself, but we all lived together—as far as I know, he never missed any day in going to his work
—he was regular and very punctual—once or twice he said he had a lot of writing to do, and he used to get tired of it.
FREDERICK LEFEVRE MILBURN . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 43, Claremont Square, Clerkenwell—during 1901 and 1902, on various dates, I attended Mrs. James for illness, and on June 1st, 1901, I attended her for injuries—I found her to be suffering from severe nervous prostration—she was very severely bruised down the right side of her body, commencing at her head—she had a large swelling on her leg—I judged from the appearance of her hair that it had been pulled—it was all anyhow—that was the only occasion on which I found her to be suffering from bruises or injury—I asked the prisoner his reason for behaving in the manner he was doing to his wife, and he said, "She is always nagging at me."
Cross-examined. I was Mrs. James' regular medical attendant—I attended her down to October, 1902, since when she has not required my services—as far as I know, no other medical gentleman has attended her—I have not seen the prisoner since June, 1901.
THOMAS KELLY . I am an hydraulic fitter, of 162, Barnsbury Road, and am Mrs. James' son in law, as I married a Miss Purkiss—I have known the prisoner for about four years, since he married my mother in law—I remember going to Myddelton Square about August 28th—my wife had made a statement to me, and in consequence I went there—about an hour afterwards the prisoner came in—I said, "Hulloa!"—he laughed and asked me what I wanted—I said I had come to make a visit—he said, "Clear out"—that was in the passage up stairs—he went down to the breakfast parlour in the basement, and I followed him—he was talking to Miss Florrie, his step daughter—I see a very strange look in his face—I thought he was going to catch hold of her, and I struck him, as I thought there would be trouble—I was asked to look after the daughters, and so I struck him—he struck me back, and we fought for about a couple of minutes, and both fell through a glass door—two policemen came, and the prisoner and I went to the station with them—I cannot remember whether I spoke to the prisoner on that day about what my wife had told me.
Cross-examined. I thought the prisoner looked as if he hardly knew what he was going to do—I have always said to his wife that I did not think he was right, but I have never seen him quite so wild as this—at times he behaved like a man who was not sensible—he did not offer me any violence until I struck him—he was talking to Florence in a strange way, and he appeared to be a little excited—I thought he might' be going to hit the girl, and I thought if he did I should not be able to stop him—I hit him with all my might with my fist—I think I hit him somewhere on the cheek—I was not particular where it was—I should say he had had a little drink—I have sometimes seen him a little excited by drink—I believe he used to drink a good drop.
Re-examined. I cannot say if he was a man of bad temper, because I was never there much—he always treated me with the greatest respect—he did not appear to be in a bad temper—on this occasion—I should say
he was a little angry at seeing me there—I do not think my following him down stairs made him more angry—he was talking to Florence, something about household affairs, I cannot say what—he was grumbling and scolding—his eyes moved about as I have seen people who have been insane—I should not say he was in a strong passion.
CHARLES COBHAM . I am a labourer, of 32, Noble Street, Clerkenwell—about 9.45 p.m. on October 6th I was in Wilmington Square with a friend—when we got to the end of Tysoe Street, and near the square, I saw a man standing under a lamp post—I see something shining in his hand—when he came by he held up what he had in his hand and fired it, and then put it in his right hand pocket—I saw it was a revolver—he then ran towards Margaret Street and Farringdon Road—I followed him into Margaret Street—I saw a policeman at the corner—I spoke to him and went with him to Attneave Street, where I left him—he walked on down Attneave Street—I was shown a number of men at the station, and picked out the prisoner as the man who had fired the revolver.
Cross-examined. I was just across the road from the prisoner when I first noticed him—he looked in the direction of the boys' club and fired something—he looked as if he expected somebody was coming after him—when I walked up past him he put his arm up like that and fired—I was then a few dozen yards from him—I and my pal were the only persons near to him—he did not apparently fire at anybody, and the moment he had fired he put the revolver into his pocket and walked away—he seemed strange in the way he behaved—it attracted my attention—I do not know if he had seen us before he fired—he was looking in our direction—it was not until we walked in his direction that he did anything—I saw him take the pistol from his right hand pocket.
Re-examined. The pistol went off at once when he held it up—I did not see him touch it with his other hand—he looked very strange in his face, like scowling—he seemed to be aiming the pistol where it would not hit anybody.
ANNIE MARLES . I am the wife of Henry Maries, of 13, Arundel Square—I have known the prisoner about three years—about 4 p.m. on October 6th he called at my house, and asked for my landlord's address—he did not say why he wanted it—I told him I could not exactly tell him—he said, "I have left Mrs. James, as I thought she had put her daughters in front of me; I am now going to do her all the harm I can; I am going to have what you commonly call' your own back'"—then he said he would call again in a few days—he was with me for ten or fifteen minutes.
Cross-examined. I have never seen him like that before—his manner struck me as strange—I did not take his statement about doing Mrs. James harm seriously—after he had gone I only thought that he was rather peculiar.
Re-examined. He dragged his words out, and seemed to talk peculiarly—I understood what he said, but I had to ask him once or twice what he said—I thought he was in drink—I did not notice any smell of liquor about him—before October 6th I had not seen him for nearly two years—he had not corresponded with me during that time—I was first called at the
inquest—the prisoner did not seem excited when he called on me, or as if he had anything on his mind—all I noticed about him was that he spoke a little indistinctly, which I put down to his having been drinking.
FLORENCE PURKISS . I live at 19, Myddelton Square, and am a dressmaker's assistant—I have two sisters living at home—one of them is named Lilian—my mother, Mrs. James, was married to a Mr. Purkiss before she married the prisoner—we are Mr. Purkiss' children—he died in 1899—we have lived at 19, Myddelton Square for three or four years—the prisoner also lived there for a time, and also my mother's sister, Dorcas Pizer—she was a maiden lady just over fifty years of age—we took in lodgers, and she assisted my mother to manage the house—I and my sisters are employed during the day as dressmakers, and go home in the evening, except for four months, when I was at home, because mother had no maid—while the prisoner was living with us he treated my mother on the whole very well, except on one occasion, a few weeks before October 6th; it was a Saturday; I was in the drawing room with my mother on the ground floor—I think it was the last Saturday in August—the prisoner was living in the house then—he had lived there ever since he married my mother, with the exception of five weeks—there were some proceedings at the police court about a year ago, when a separation order was made between him and my mother, and he was to allow her 10s. a week—I have no idea how that came about—after the five weeks the prisoner came back and lived with us till August 28th—on the last Saturday in August my mother and I were cleaning the mirrors in the drawing room; the prisoner came in and started removing the ornaments—mother was cleaning a mirror over the fireplace—the prisoner moved some ornaments off the mantelpiece and off a large consol table—I do not know what my mother said, but she remonstrated with him—he got hold of her by her right ear—I went to her assistance—I was knocked down somehow. I cannot say how—I did not fall over any thing. I was knocked down—mother ran out of the room, I don't know where to—the prisoner went out of the house—I have got a married sister, Mrs. Kelly: she was not in the house when this happened—she came later in the day, and her husband—I do not know if they came together—the prisoner returned to the house—Mr. Kelly was there then—I did not hear what passed between them—I do not remember being in the kitchen on that day, and the prisoner speaking to me—he has never spoken to me in a scolding way about household matters—there was some violence between Kelly and the prisoner—I saw part of it—they and a policeman left the house—the prisoner came back that night for a day or two longer—he left on September 31st and I did not see him till October 6th—we go to bed at different time—I generally went at about 11 or 11.30—as a general rule, we were late people—on the night of October 6th my sister Lilian, myself, mother and my aunt Miss. Pizer, were all at home—we have got a little sitting room down stairs called the breakfast room—that is the general room used by the lodgers—it looks over the garden—as you look out of the glass doors which form the windows you can see right down the garden path to the back entrance gate—my mother and sister and I were in that room—my mother and sister both left a little before ten—my
aunt was in the front kitchen—I think she was in good health—there is a bed in the front kitchen—my aunt did not sleep there as a rule, but on this night she was going to sleep there—mother heard a noise in the garden before she went to bed—I heard it also—we all remarked upon it—as far as I know, my aunt had not left the kitchen all the evening—we had supper there together about nine o'clock—we took about thirty minutes over it—we left the kitchen about 9.30 or 9.45, leaving my aunt in there—after my mother and sister went up stairs I was sitting on a chair reading, with my back to the fireplace; my newspaper was on the table—I was facing the door—while I was reading, the dog, which was lying on the sofa in the same room, barked—I looked up and saw the prisoner at the door—that only seemed a minute or two after my mother and sister had gone up stairs—the prisoner did not say anything—I said, "Oh, Mr. James, whatever do you want?"—he did not answer—I only saw his face in the doorway—the door was partly open, and he was looking round it—he then came further into the room, and I could see the whole of him—I noticed when he came inside the door that he had a revolver in his right hand, pointing downwards—I saw him slowly raise his hand—I was still sitting with my back to the fireplace—then I heard a report and saw a flash—I stood up—the prisoner seemed to be twisting something round on the revolver with his other hand—when I heard the report he was standing sideways to me—I do not know in which direction his hand was when he fixed—when I stood up I walked backwards towards the glass door into the garden—the prisoner came down the fireplace side of the table, which was the same side that I was on—he was rather near to me; I do not remember how far—I went down the side of the table, and when I got to the end of it I got underneath it—the prisoner did not come right to the top—I did not get underneath quickly; I then crawled under the table towards the room door and away from the glass door—I ran up stairs, leaving the prisoner in the room—when I got a little more than half way up the stairs I heard a scream and a report—I looked back down the stairs and saw the prisoner at the front kitchen door—I could see nearly all of him—he had his back towards me and was standing still—the kitchen door was only a very little open; not enough for him to see into the kitchen—I then went on up the stairs to see after my mother, and to call the police—just as I got to the top of the kitchen stairs some policemen passed me and went down stairs—I said something to the first one—I do not know how many there were—I crossed the hall and went out of the street door on to the doorstep, where I saw a lot of people—my mother and Lilian were standing on a neighbour's doorstep—I went back into the house and down two or three steps to the first landing, going down into the kitchen—I saw the prisoner on the stairs in charge of the police—I passed them and went down into the kitchen—I saw my aunt lying on the floor, with some people attending to her—on the next day, Wednesday, I was in the little sitting room at the back, when I found this bullet (Produced) on the floor—on the same day I noticed a mark on the table in the same room—it was on the door side of the table and very near the edge, on the top—on the night before there was a table cloth on it—the mark went right through the table from the top downwards,
slantways—I had never noticed the hole before—the table cloth is a woollen one, and you cannot see the hole very well which is in it—I found the bullet near the garden door and the sofa.
Cross-examined. I was living with my mother at 19, Myddelton Square when she married the prisoner in 1899, and I lived with her right down to this affair—the prisoner was always very kind to me, except when he tried to take the ornaments from the mantlepiece; he wanted to move them to the conservatory—I do not know if he had brought them to the house when he married my mother—at the time he moved them I do not think he said anything—my mother tried to prevent his moving them—I should not care to say how I was knocked down; I only remember that I was knocked down—the prisoner was pulling one way, and my mother the other, and I went to help her—the prisoner left the house finally on the last day in August—I was at the house when he went away—he did not say good-bye or anything; he went out just as if he was going to business in the ordinary way—he had been at home all the previous day, a Sunday—we were all on good terms during that day, and also when he left—we had all had breakfast together—when the prisoner came into the sitting room on October 6th he raised the pistol without saying anything after I spoke to him—I saw a flash and heard the report—at that time I did not know where the bullet had gone, if one had gone at all—I was sitting with my back to the fire, a trifle nearer to the kitchen side of the table than the centre—he did not appear to be firing at me or anything in particular—I noticed his face—he seemed very strange indeed to me—he seemed to have a wild and dazed look—he did not look like a man who knew what he was doing—he was not angry with me—after he had fired the first time I rose from my seat—I stood up quite still; it seemed a long time to me, but I suppose it was only a second or two—he had plenty of time to fire at me again while I was standing if he had wished to—I was facing him, between the fire grate and the table; then I went to the edge of the table, near the glass doors, and crawled underneath it—I stayed under the table for what seemed a long time to me—if he had chosen to do so the prisoner had plenty of time to fire at me while I was there—I could see his legs, but I could only see him walking about—he did not further molest me—then I crawled from under the table to the door and got on to the stairs—when I got to the door the prisoner was standing opposite the door—he could see me as I went out—he could easily have fired at me if he had chosen to while I was walking out of the door—I did not notice him come out of the room as I went up the stairs—in order to get into the kitchen he would have to come out of that door and go in at the kitchen door—I think I must have got up five or six steps when I heard the report—the scream came from the kitchen—I know my aunt's voice; the scream was hers—I turned round and saw the prisoner just outside the kitchen door—as I turned and looked down I think he turned and looked at me, but I am not positive about it—I did not notice where his hand was in which he had the pistol—it only took me 8 minute or two to get from the breakfast
room door to five or sis steps up the staircase, because, I ran as hard as I could the moment I got out of the door; it was only about half a dozen yards—the prisoner and my aunt were on most affectionate terms—I have never known them to have any quarrel—my aunt was just the opposite in appearance to my mother; nobody could mistake them for each other—my aunt was short, not above 5 ft., I should think—I should think mother would be 5 ft. 7 in. or 8 in., and is a fine looking woman—my aunt was not stout, she was very small—I did not see my mother at the same time that I saw the policeman.
Re-examined. When the prisoner caught hold of my mother on August 28th neither of them had any ornaments in their hands—it was not a question of his pulling one way and she the other when I was knocked down—it was after I stood up at the table on October 6th that I saw the prisoner doing something to the revolver—I am not positive about it, but I think that is what made me get up—he only did that something to the pistol for about a minute—when I went out of the room I could not see which way the prisoner was looking; I could only see that he was there—I was very much frightened—what had happened was a very great shock to me—I think I was able on that evening to give a clear account of what had happened—I do not know Dr. Caunter—we burn two ordinary hanging kitchen gas burners in the kitchen—I could not see any light coming from the kitchen door when I went up stairs—the door opens that way, and you cannot see if there is any light there—I do not know what light there was in the kitchen, but we have always one burner there—my aunt was almost undressed when I saw her lying on the floor—if anybody coughed or made a noise in one room you could hear it in the next—the prisoner was subject to rather sudden fits of temper sometimes—I do not know if it was when anything annoyed him—I did not hear him say that my sister and I were being put before him by our mother—I never heard anything of that sort—while the prisoner was living with us up to the end of August, my aunt was also there; she used to sleep at the top of the house—there was also a bed in the kitchen, and if we had visitors someone slept there to make another bed upstairs—my aunt had slept there for some nights before October 6th; sometimes she slept there for two or three weeks straight off—I believe she had slept there once or twice while the prisoner was in the house, but I am not positive—I cannot remember when first a bed was put into the kitchen—it might have been since last summer or last summer year; it was when my brother came home, I think, in the summer year, it was after the separation order that it was put up—I can only remember coming home and seeing it fixed up—the prisoner was living in the house then—when the kitchen was used as a bedroom it was always used by my aunt—nobody else slept there.
LILIAN PURKISS . I am Florence Purkiss' sister; the prisoner is my stepfather—I live at 19, Myddelton Square, with my mother—shortly before 10 p.m. on October 6th I was sitting in the breakfast room with my mother and sister—I left the room about ten to go to bed, leaving my mother and sister in the room—I went to the first floor back room,
where I was sleeping for the time being—I was preparing to go to bed, and about 10.13 I heard a kind of a scream—I did not hear any other noise after it—I opened the door and ran downstairs—when I got on to the landing outside the room I noticed that the landing window was open; it is a stained-glass window—when I went up to bed it was closed—when I ran down stairs I went into the street—going down stairs, I heard the noise of what I took to be a shot and another scream—I did not notice which came first, I was so frightened—I do not remember if the door was open when I got down stairs—I saw my mother in the street—a little later, I returned to the house and went down into the kitchen, where I saw my aunt—she was attended to by Dr. Goddard—the steps shown in this photograph were always kept with a lot of lumber in the space just outside the conservatory, which looks into the garden.
Cross-examined. While the prisoner lived with us I was on good terms with him—he had no grudge against me or Florence, and he was most attached to my aunt—when he went away in the mornings he always used the back door, he never used the front—we did not all always use the back door—I used the front because it was the nearest way to my business—the prisoner used the back because it was a near cut to the City.
FREDERICK SAVILLE (221 G.) On the night of October 6th I was on duty in Myddelton Square—when I was opposite to No. 19 I saw Mrs. James run out of the house—she spoke to me—in consequence of what she said I went in with Peacock—he came in just behind me—we went through the hall to the top of the stairs—I saw the prisoner coming up the kitchen stairs, with a revolver in his right hand—I. immediately seized him and wrenched it away from him—with the assistance of Peacock, I arrested him—he struggled a little when I got the revolver away—he was trying to keep it—he said, "All right, I will go quiet; I know quite Well what I have done; they have driven me to this; I have been away for five weeks' holiday, and I wish I had stopped there"—Peacock helped me to take him to the station—on the way the prisoner said, "Let me have a smoke; it will be the last one I shall get in this world"—he was taken to the station, and there detained—this (Produced) is the revolver I took from him—I did not say anything to him before he said, "All right, I will be quiet," and nobody else had spoken to him.
Cross-examined. As soon as I got the revolver from him he became quite calm, and did not offer any further resistance.
WILLIAM PEACOCK (22 G.R.) "At 10.15 p.m. on October 6th I was in the neighbourhood of 19. Myddelton Square—I heard screams—I joined Saville, and went to the house with him—I saw the prisoner on the stairs with a revolver in his right hand, which Saville took from him—I held him—I knew him, and called him by his name—he said, "All right; I know quite well what I have done; they have driven me to this; I have only just come back from five weeks' holiday; I wish I had stopped there"—I went down into the kitchen, and saw the deceased lying on her back about a yard and a half from the door and across it—if you walked in at the door you would have had to walk right over her body—she was partly undressed—she had a wound in her right side, which
was bleeding—I left another constable in charge and went back to the prisoner—I went with him and Saville to the station—on the way the prisoner said, "Will you allow me one favour?"—I asked him what it was—he said, "To have a smoke, as it will be the last one I shall get in this world"—I granted his request—he had his pipe in his hand, he lighted it, and proceeded to smoke.
Cross-examined. Saville went into the house just in front of me—he snatched the revolver from the prisoner—he struggled at first—he told us not to be too rough with him—he continued to struggle after the revolver was taken from him, and until I called him by his name, and then he looked up and said, "I will be quiet"—I do not know if he knew me, but I knew him.
JESSE FAIRFAX (129 G.) On October 6th I was on duty in Myddelton Square, when Florence Purkiss came and spoke to me—I went with her to No. 19, where I saw the prisoner in the custody of Saville and Peacock—I went down into the kitchen, and saw the deceased lying there—there was a gas light there—I remained with her until Dr. Goddard arrived.
Cross-examined. When I went down there was plenty of light in both rooms—the gas was full on—when I first saw the prisoner he was quite quiet.
By the COURT. I do not know who went into the kitchen first—when I went down, there were no police there then—I left Fairfax in charge of the deceased—the gas was alight in the kitchen.
BERTRAM GODDARD . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 27, Pentonville Road—at 10.25 p.m. on October 6th I was called to 19, Myddelton Square—I found the body of Dorcas Pizer lying on the floor; her head was towards the door, and her feet towards the fireplace across the room—I found that she was suffering from a bullet wound through the right seventh rib—I temporarily dressed it, sent for a cab, and personally took her to the Royal Free Hospital—she died in my arms on the way—by a post mortem afterwards, I found that she was a healthy woman, and that her death was caused by syncope, produced by internal hemorrhage from wounds in the liver, spleen, and kidney—this (Produced) is the bullet I found in the left kidney—I do not think she would be able to move any distance after being struck—I should say she fell down immediately—when I got there she was just conscious, and said, "Dear me dear me!"—the direction of the wound was across the body through the right lobe of the liver—it was nearly straight, but slightly downwards.
Cross-examined. The deceased was not tall—the wound on her body would be about the height which the prisoner's hand is now in.
WALTER SELBY (Detective Sergeant G.) About 11.30 p.m. on October 6th I went to the back garden of 19, Myddelton Square—I found the back garden gate opening into a passage, ajar—the stained glass window shown in the photograph was slightly open—the dust on the window sill was recently removed, and the steps were against the wall, as shown in the photograph—I should say with the steps in that position it would
not be difficult for anyone to get on to the top of the lavatory, and then in at the window—about 12.30 a.m. I saw the prisoner at King's Cross Road Police Station—I assisted to search him, he took a key from his right hand trouser pocket and handed it to Inspector Briggs, who handed it to me—I subsequently fitted it to the gate leading from Myddelton Passage into the garden—just by the fowls' house I found a high hat and an umbrella—on October 14th I was at Clerkenwell Police Court, when the prisoner was committed for trial, and when Cobham identified the prisoner, he said, "Yes, that is right; I saw this boy there, I remember him."
Cross-examined. The key moved easily in the lock, as if the gate was constantly used.
WILLIAM BRIGGS (Inspector G.) I know the prisoner well—he joined the Police force in January, 1879—he was made a sergeant in 1884, and left the force in 1896—since then I have seen him daily—I was not present on October 2nd, 1902, when the separation order was made—on October 6th I was passing through Myddelton Passage, a little after 10 p.m.—I saw the prisoner—he was wearing a tall silk hat, a serge jacket, and was carrying an umbrella—we were going in opposite directions—I had just passed the back door of No. 19, and he was going towards it—as he passed me I noticed that it was the prisoner—I did not speak to him; he seemed to wish to avoid me, otherwise I might have said good night to him—about 10.45 I saw him detained at King's Cross Road Police Station—Saville handed me this revolver—I did not examine it then; I put it in a safe place and went to Myddelton Square—having heard that Miss Pizer was dead, I went back to the station—I said to the prisoner, "Your sister-in-law is dead, and you will be charged with her wilful murder; you will also be charged with attempting to murder your step daughter Florence"—he said, "I will offer no resistance in the least degree"—the charges were entered against him, and read over—he made no reply—he took everything out of his own pockets; amongst other things was this knife (Produced); it is a dagger knife, and has a sheath, but it was not in it then; it was as it is now, in his left coat pocket—he said, "I bought that to-day; I was going abroad on Friday: I quite realise my position; I want you to examine that revolver"—I had it in my hand then—I said, "I have done so; there are three spent cartridges and two live ones in it"—he said, "That is right; if you say there are three spent cartridges and two live ones that is right"—placing his hand in his left hand trousers pocket, he took out a handful of cartridges and said, "There are forty-five more here. I bought a box of fifty. When the tale comes to be told there will be quite a different complexion put upon it. I know exactly my position. You will observe there are three spent cartridges; one of them was accidentally spent by me just before this affair. I know perfectly well what you will say in the morning. I wasted one of the cartridges in Wilmington Square, opposite Tysoe Street. I thought a man was following me and spoke to a constable in Margaret Street. I want you to make some inquiry about that. All I expect is fairness, and I know you will do that"—he made that statement about, midnight—Dr. Caunter arrived with me at the station about midnight, and remained
there about half an hour—I had the prisoner under my personal observation from the time that I came back with the news of the death of the deceased—Dr. Caunter did not see the prisoner until he arrived at the station with me—the prisoner was perfectly cool; he made his statement quite clearly, and in his ordinary tone of voice; there were no appearances of drink or excitement about him—he was not incoherent; his statement was made right off by him, and was not in answer to questions—I was not on duty throughout the night—I saw him again next morning before he was taken before the Magistrate; his condition then was similar to that of the night previous—the revolver is a self cocker, and has an ejector action—there is no half cock—until all the cartridges are spent there is no particular object in opening it—in whatever position it is, if you pull the trigger it discharges the revolver, and by pulling the trigger the next cartridge is brought into position—you can also easily turn the barrels with your hand.
Cross-examined. When once you have loaded the five chambers, all you have to do is to go on pulling the trigger until they are all discharged—the two undischarged cartridges were side by side in the revolver—it struck me that on October 6th, when I met the prisoner, he appeared to avoid me—I have known him for many years—I am sure he recognised me—I sometimes said good day to him, but I never stopped and had a conversation with him—I had never known him before to attempt to avoid me—inquiries have been made by the Treasury as to his family antecedents—I had a report from the Police Superintendent at Gloucester in regard to a man named William Taylor, who was the first cousin of the prisoner's father—(This stated that Taylor, who was an agriculturist of considerable note, was of a very excitable temperament, and that before he died, at the age of sixty-nine, there were undoubted signs of depression coming upon him; that he had to relinquish all his business and put it into the hands of a manager; that on the day of his death he asked the servant to get him his gun, as the sparrows were eating all the seeds in his garden, and that when he got the gun He went out and blew his brains out.)
RICHARD LAWRENCE CAUNTER , M.D., M.R.C.P. I am divisional surgeon of police, and on October 6th, about 10.45 p.m., I was called to 19, Myddelton Square—I saw Florence Purkiss, and stayed with her for some time—she was suffering from shock and fright—I did not see the deceased at the time; she had been removed from the house—later on I saw the prisoner at King's Cross Road police station—I remained watching him for half an hour; while doing so he was charged and searched—I heard what he said to Briggs—he was perfectly sober, rational, and, in my opinion, perfectly sane.
Cross-examined. I have had sixteen years' experience of persons who are insane, as an ordinary practitioner only—I have not made it a special branch of my practice—I have known persons when suffering from epilepsy to murder people and within half an hour to be perfectly rational, but there are different symptoms of epilepsy—you can have madness before the epileptic attacks, or between them, or, as it is called, post epilepsy—there are different forms of epilepsy—there is an excitable form, which
comes shortly before the fit itself—in those cases the face is red and the eyes bloodshot, and a general appearance of strangeness in demeanour.
Re-examined. There was not the slightest indication to my mind that the prisoner had ever had epilepsy, or was in an epileptic state on this night—there was not the slightest thing which gave rise to any such suspicion in my mind—until this moment it has never been suggested to me that he was ever suffering from epilepsy.
JAMES SCOTT . I am the medical officer at Brixton Prison—for the last seven or eight years I have held that position at Brixton and Holloway—I have had considerable experience in looking at and examining and testing those as to whom there is any suggestion of insanity—the prisoner was received at Brixton on October 7th, and, as is usual in such cases, was at once put under special observation—I have seen him daily from the evening of the 10th till now—my fellow medical officer, Dr. Watson, saw him up to the 10th—during the time he has been in prison he has been nervous and depressed, but rational both in his conduct and conversation—I do not consider that he was more depressed than is natural, considering the charge against him—I have conversed with him on several occasions in order to discover whether he suffered from delusions, or any disease of the mind—I have not detected any insanity during the time he has been under my observation—there was no evidence of recent excessive drinking—I have had placed before me the whole of the depositions in this case, and I have been in Court to-day during part of the trial—in my opinion I do not think it is shown by the evidence that on October 6th he was suffering from any disease of the mind—I have seen no evidence that he is an epileptic, and he has had no attacks of that nature while under my observation—he said that for some years he had fainting fits, but that, to his knowledge, he never had a convulsive fit—insanity is not necessarily hereditary—from the statements I have seen as to the prisoner's family insanity, I do not think it is strong enough to lead one to think that he has inherited it or not.
Cross-examined. It is difficult to say whether insanity may show itself in any particular branch or generation—there are not many cases of persons who, suffering from mental trouble, go long periods without any overt act—there are cases where persons go voluntarily into retreats when they feel the approach of such trouble, remain there some time, then emerge once more—there is generally something to be traced if you inquire into it.
WILLIAM RIDDELL WATSON . I am deputy medical officer at Brixton Prison—I was on duty on October 7th when the prisoner was brought in—I examined him within an hour or two—he was depressed, and he looked melancholy—he was quite sober, and showed no signs of recent drinking—I had a considerable talk with him—he seemed quite rational and quiet—I do not think he was more depressed than the circumstances would account for—his condition was practically the same for the next three or four days, except that he seemed slightly less depressed—I saw him certainly twice a day and perhaps oftener.
Cross-examined. I have kept him under observation ever since he came in, but I have not seen him so frequently as Dr. Scott.
By the COURT. I saw no signs of insanity or of epilepsy.
FLORENCE PURKISS (Re-examined by the COURT). The door into the garden was unlocked at 10 p.m. on October 6th—it was usually unlocked until we went to bed—the lights can be seen quite plainly from the garden.
GUILTY of manslaughter. Twenty years' penal servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, November 20th, 1903.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
SULLIVAN PLEADED GUILTY to robbery without violence.
MR. HINDE Prosecuted.
ALBERT TOWNSEND . I am a sailor, and was boatswain of the Cassabianca—on Tuesday night, October 20th, I went to the Oporto Tavern, Poplar, and stood drink to the prisoners—I left about 10.30 to go to the urinal, having announced that I was coming back to the public house—Sullivan followed me and struck me under the chin—as I was falling he snatched my watch and chain, and as I got down in the gutter Smith kicked me on my forehead—I went to the police station where Dr. O'Brien put stitches into the wound—I described the prisoners to the police, and a little later the same night, after their arrest, I identified them.
Cross-examined by Smith. I saw your face when you put your arm around my neck, because your face was then close beside mine—I lost my ship in consequence of the affair, and am in debt for board and lodging.
HENRY CAMPKIN (418 K.) I saw the prosecutor coming to the station, bleeding from a large cut on his eye—he described two men who had robbed and assaulted him—I went to the Oporto, and found Smith there—I had previously seen the two prisoners drinking together there with the prosecutor—I told Smith I should take him into custody for the assault and robbery—he said, "I will go, but I know nothing about it myself"—I went with Detective Gale to Pennyfields, Poplar, saw Sullivan and told him I should arrest him for the assault and robbery—he said, "Hold on, governor"—he was taken to the station—the two prisoners were put up for identification, and the prosecutor picked out Smith and then pointed Co Sullivan, saying, "There is the man who has got it"—at that Sullivan went behind another man—both prisoners were charged—Smith said, "I know nothing about it myself"—Sullivan made no reply—Sullivan was searched by Gale, and the watch was found in his possession—there was no doubt whatever about the identification by Townsend of both the prisoners'.
Cross-examined by Smith. When Townsend identified the prisoners at he station he did not say to you, "It was not you."
Cross-examined by Sullivan. Smith pointed you out first, and then Townsend said, "That's him"—Townsend had not been able to identify Sullivan before that.
THOMAS GALE (Detective Officer K.) About 11.20 on the night of October 20th I was at the station—the prosecutor came in bleeding, and made a complaint to the inspector that he had been robbed and assaulted by two men—I went with Campkin to Pennyfields and arrested Sullivan—I took him to the station and placed him with Smith amongst several other men—when the prosecutor came in he went straight up to Smith and said, "There is the one I want"—Smith turned to Sullivan, who was some distance away, and said, "Why don't you own up, Patsy? You know you were there; you don't want to get me into trouble"—the prosecutor at once said, "That's the other man that was there"—the prisoners were charged, and made no reply—I searched them both, and on Sullivan found a watch and chain, which were identified by the prosecutor, and also some coppers—I asked him where he got the watch and chain—he said, "A man gave it to me; this is what you get by minding a bit of stuff."
Evidence for Smith's Defence.
PATRICK SULLIVAN (The prisoner.) Smith was in my company on the evening in question from 6 till between 8 and 8.30—after that I left him, and did not see him again till I saw him at the police station—I plead guilty to the robbery, but not to the assault—I left Smith in the public house, and he knows nothing about the affair.
Cross-examined. I left Smith in the public house between 8 and 8.30—Townsend treated other men, but not myself or Smith—we paid for our own drink, and Campkin's evidence that he saw the prosecutor and us drinking together is untrue—the first time I saw Townsend that night was in a little turning beside the public house—he was then with another man—that was between seven and eight—I committed the robbery about ten o'clock—I snatched the watch, but used no violence—Townsend was drunk, and fell and hurt himself—there was somebody with me when I committed the robbery, but this man was a stranger, and I don't know his name—I have known Sullivan a tidy while.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Smith says, "I am as innocent as a new-born babe." Sullivan says, "I plead guilty to stealing the man's watch and chain, but Smith is innocent, and was not with me. I never assaulted the man at all."
Both GUILTY of robbery with violence. Smith then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on May 5th, 1902, and four other convictions were proved against him. Six previous convictions were proved against Smith. Three years' penal servitude each.
MR. RODERICK Prosecuted. NOT GUILTY .
MR. LYNE Prosecuted. NOT GUILTY .
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.
MARY PENN . I am the prisoner's wife, and reside with him at 8, Tarling Street, St. George's, in the house of George Vidler—on November 2nd, at 9 p.m., I was sitting in the kitchen against the copper—the prisoner came in and punched me on my mouth—I said, "Let me go up stairs"—he then knocked me off the chair—my head did not come in contact with the copper—he kicked me while I was on the floor—I went up stairs to get my shawl—he was standing behind the door, and hit me on my head with what I thought at first was a knife, but I think now it was the key—he said, "I will lay you out like Rooky Donovan"—that is a man who murdered his wife, and got twelve months' hard labour at this Court—I went out and found a policeman—my head was dressed at the station.
WILLIAM VAUGHAN (29 H.) At 10 p.m. on November 2nd, in consequence of information received, I proceeded to 8, Tarling Street, and found the prisoner in bed, and told him he would be charged with cutting and wounding his wife—he said, "I do not know what you mean; when I returned from my labour I found my wife drunk on the stairs; as for stabbing, that is out of my jurisdiction; it occurred in the kitchen; we had a row in the kitchen, and she fell against the copper; that was how it was done"—I examined the copper; it has a sharp edge—there was some blood upon it, but it had been wiped away by the landlord in whose room the row occurred—both the prisoner and his wife had been drinking—the wife did not appear to be drunk, but she smelt of drink.
CHARLES GRAHAM GRANT (Divisional Surgeon.) On November 2nd, about 9.30 p.m., I tended the woman at the police station—I found her suffering from an incised wound on the left parietal bone, 1 3/4 inches long, penetrating to the bone—it was not a very sharp instrument that had inflicted the injury—she had also contusions on her mouth, and her eye was ecchymosed—she had lost a large quantity of blood—she had been drinking, but was to all intents and purposes sober—the wound was not such as could be caused by bumping against the copper; I have examined the copper, and the edge is not nearly sharp enough—the wound might have been inflicted with a blunt knife.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The prosecutrix had one or more old scars on her head, but the wound on this occasion was not an old wound that had reopened.
GEORGE VIDLER . I am a scaffolder, of 8, Tarling Street, St. George's—the prisoner and his wife were my lodgers in the upper front room—between 8 and 8.30 p.m. on November 2nd they had had words in my kitchen—he gave her a nasty blow; she reeled round, nearly fell into the fireplace, and bit her head on the edge of the copper—she got up and put on her bonnet and shawl—I thought she was going to the hospital, but she went to the police station—the man went out after her, and I never saw him afterwards—he did not strike his wife more than once—her head
bled when she hit it against the copper—the wound on her head was there before she went up stairs—I did not see the prisoner go up stairs.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I got home about 7.30, and found my wife beastly drunk. She used bad language, and spat in my face. I shoved her, and she fell against the copper. She has been here dozens of times for being drunk. As to the matter she referred to. I know nothing about it. That is nothing else but her adding up."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HENDERSON Prosecuted.
JESSE VEITCH . I am manager of a common lodging house at 23, Lawrence Street, Chelsea—on the evening of March 28th the prisoner was in my house—he had not engaged a bed—another man had paid for one for him—I was sitting in my office up stairs, and heard cries of "Murder! police!" and my name was called—I went downstairs into the kitchen, and found the prisoner and another man named Croucher—they had robbed two men, and were kicking them—I stooped down to assist Palmer, one of the men, and as I did so the prisoner made a running kick at me, saying, "Take that, you f—g bastard; that is one I owe you"—I picked the man up, set him on a form and ordered the prisoner out of the house—he went—I was severely bruised, but did not know then that my injuries were so serious—the kick had broken two of my ribs—I went to St. George's Hospital, and was there treated for that, and then pleurisy set in, and I was under treatment as an out patient for a further six weeks—I feel the effects of my injuries now—the prisoner has borne ill-will against me for five years because I was the principal witness against him for robbing a bootmaker five years ago.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The man you robbed was a little fellow called "Punch"—Punch is afraid to come forward and give evidence—I did not allow you to sleep in the house after the affray.
SIDNEY HERBERT LATHAN . I am house physician at present at St. George's Hospital—on March 28th I was house surgeon—the prosecutor came to the hospital on that date and was admitted as an out patient—his seventh and eighth ribs on the left side were broken—I believe he was under treatment for several weeks, but after the first week he was transferred to my assistant, and I never saw him again—he had pleurisy a fortnight after the injury, which was a serious one.
HENRY FITZGERALD (Policeman B.) On November 8th I read the warrant to the prisoner in Chelsea Police Station—he said, "Quite right," and was afterwards charged with the offence, and said, "That's right."
GEORGE PALMER . About 9 p.m. on March 28th I was in the kitchen of Lawrence Street, Chelsea—Punch Allen was there treating some gentlemen to drink—a light took place, and I tried to rescue Punch—the prisoner caught hold of me, threw me over, and split my elbow—Mr. Veitch came down and assisted me and the prisoner got oft me, turned
round sharp and kicked him on his ribs—it was one sharp kick—I did not hear him say anything.
Cross-examined I have not seen Punch for over a fortnight—Veitch came down into the kitchen while you were on top of me.
Evidence for the Defence.
LAMBERT. I am a labourer—I was in the kitchen of this lodging house on the night of this row—we had all been drinking together—there was a row between Croucher and Allen, the man who was supposed to have been robbed—when the row was starting the prosecutor came running down stairs, and while down there the form overturned and he fell over it—there was no kicking—the room is only 16 feet square, and has a large table running through it, so there is not sufficient room for a man to make a running kick.
Cross-examined. I have been convicted four times of assault and on other occasions for other offences, but that does not stop me from telling the truth.
FREDERICK CROUCHER . I am a plasterer—I was in this lodging house on the night in question—there was a quarrel between me and a man called Punch—he took off his coat and waistcoat and challenged me to fight—Palmer pulled Punch away, and I knocked him into a corner—he hurt his arm—Carey kept out of the row altogether—I did not see any kicking.
Cross-examined. Veitch came down and fell over the form that was knocked over—I will swear he was not kicked—I have been once convicted of assault—it was the only time I have been in trouble.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the North London Sessions on October 4th, 1898. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.
THOMAS RATCLIFFE (Detective G.) About 11.15 a.m., of November 9th, I saw the prisoner carrying a cardboard box—I stopped him and asked him what he had in it—he said, "I don't know, a man with a fair moustache, in Milton Street, asked me to carry this as far as Dawson's, in City Road, and he would meet me there"—I said, "I am not satisfied with your answers"—I took him to the police station, made inquiries, and found the parcel had been stolen out of White Street, and was the property of Hayes and Co., Hansell Street—I went to Hayes' and got a traveller to come and identify the goods, and took the prisoner to Moor Lane Police Station, where he was charged and made no reply.
THOMAS AVIS . I am an errand boy in the employ of Hayes and Co.—on the morning of November 9th I was delivering parcels with a trolley in White Street,. Finsbury—I took a parcel to Perrott's, on the first floor, leaving another in the trolley—when I came down it was gone—it contained twelve pairs of ladies' boots.
station to identify a parcel which contained twelve pairs of ladies' shoes, the property of Messrs. Hayes—I valued them at £4 10s.—this is the parcel (Produced).
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell, on January 18th, 1892, and three other convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.
The prosecutor a ship's carpenter, was absent at sea.
BRIDGET BYRNE :. I am the wife of Jim Byrne, and live at 49, Martin Road, Custom House—on November 15th I met a man called Rusthall; he was sober—we went along the Victoria Dock Road—the prisoners and a man called Duggan were standing outside a public house—they followed us into a coffee shop, where Rusthall ordered some tea—Rusthall and I walked out, and the prisoners and Duggan followed—we went into a public house, where I had a small lemon and Rusthall a glass of bitter—the three followed us there—Turpin said, "Why shouldn't I have a drink?"—I never answered, and we walked out—we went into another coffee shop next door to the public house, and had something to eat in there—the three men followed us there—we came out and went along towards the Docks—when we got into the Dock, Turpin followed us up and hit Rusthall on his face in several places, which knocked him up against some wood, and Smith went through his pockets and cleared off, and I went on board the ship with Rusthall.
Cross-examined by Turpin. I did not call the boy Smith into the coffee shop we first went into—I did not send him for a pennyworth of snuff—when we went into the public house I did not signal to you and the other man to come in also—I did not put the snuff into Rusthall's beer—I did not slip a shilling into your hand as I came out of the public house nor sixpence into the other man's—I did not go with Rusthall afterwards into the "Hit or Miss "public house, and call for a gallon of beer—I did not, when going to this public house, call you and say, "I have got the man's money, I have sent it home to my landlady"—I am married—my husband maintains me—it is my business how long I have known Rusthall—when I go aboard ships at 6 p.m. it is to take or fetch washing—the reason I did not give you in charge for complicity in the robbery was because I was so much upset—I did not steal the money myself.
Cross-examined by Smith. I saw your hand in the man's pocket—you did not stand waiting for Turpin while I was on the ship, you cleared off.
CHARLES WARREN (218 K.) On November 10th I saw Turpin enter the Trafalgar public house—I said, "I shall arrest you on suspicion of being concerned with another man in robbing a seaman this afternoon"—he said, "All right"—at the station he said, "There is more in it as well as me; Duggan, another man, and a woman; the woman told me she had the money and sent it home to her landlady"—when charged
he said, "I don't think it is fair to say it was me"—he was searched, and 9s. 6d. in silver found on him.
Cross-examined by Turpin. You did not say at the police station that the woman ought to be there as a prisoner, and you as a witness against her—I know nothing about your having written to the woman where the snuff was bought to come up and give evidence.
WILLIAM BARNES (285 K.) About 1.35 a.m. on November 11th I went to 8, Nelson Street, and found Smith under a bed, fully dressed, pretending to be asleep—I pulled him out, told him I was a police constable, and should arrest him for being concerned with two others in robbing a man in Victoria Docks—he said, "What, me? I don't know nothing about it"—I took him to the station where he was charged—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by Turpin. When I went to your house I did not kick the door open; it had never been shut—I know nothing about the boy (Smith) having got under the bed, because he thought you had come home drunk and smashed the door in; all I know is I found him there.
Turpin in his defence on oath said that he was standing outside the Victoria Docks at four o'clock, when Mrs. Byrne came along with Rusthall, and went into a coffee shop, and he went into the same coffee shop with Duggan and had some tea; that Smith was outside the shop, and Mrs. Byrne, called him in and sent him for a pennyworth of snuff, and before he went out, by way of deceiving the landlady as to what she was sending for, she said, "You know what I mean, the "East End News "; that she and Rusthall went into the public house next door into the private bar, and he and Smith and Duggan into the public bar, when Smith called his attention to the fact that the woman was putting snuff into the sailor's beer, and stirring it with her finger, the effect of which would be to drug him; that as she came out of the bar she slipped a shilling into his hand and sixpence into the hand of the other man; that she must have been flush of money to have done that, for she had never given him anything before, though he had known her for years; that after that all of them went round to the "Hit or Miss," where the landlady refused to serve Rusthall, thinking he was drunk; but that he was not drunk but drugged; that Byrne afterwards called him aside and said, "I have got the man's money and have sent it home to my landlady"; that they all went from there to the ship; that Rusthall had bought some whiskey, and a gallon of beer, and as they walked through the docks he took hold of the whiskey to drink some, and Rusthall called him a name and struck him, and he struck back; that they went aboard the ship with Rusthall and the woman, which he certainly would not have done if he had robbed him; that Rusthall got into his berth and found that he had lost his money; that the woman said nothing to Rusthall about being robbed till he went to the police that night, and then by way of clearing herself she laid the blame on Smith; that he knew Byrne well, as she was always at the Sailors' Home, and lived in a bad house with a woman called Kate Benard; and that £8 10s. had been stolen, but only 9s. 6d. had been found on him and nothing on Smith, who did not go on board the ship; that they went on board the ship about six, and he, the woman, and Duggan were afterwards turned off for being drunk; he admitted
having been twice convicted, but stated that he was now trying to get an honest living.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Turpin says, "I am not guilty; someone else has had the money." Smith says, "I am not guilty."
NOT GUILTY . The Jury stated that they did not believe a word of Mrs. Byrne's evidence.
MR. FITZGERALD offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 20th; and Saturday, November 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Recorder.
43. ARTHUR EDWARD SAUNDERS SEBRIGHT , Unlawfully inducing Arthur Wills John Wellington Blundell Trumbull Hill, Marquis of Downshire, to accept two bills of exchange for £5,750 each, by false pretences, with intent to defraud.
MR. BANKES, K.C., MR. MUIR and MR. FORREST FULTON Prosecuted;
MR. AVORY, K.C., MR. BIRON and MR. FRAMPTON, Defended.
ARTHUR WILLS JOHN WELLINGTON BLUNDELL TRUMBULL HILL, MARQUIS OF DOWNSHIRE . I first made the prisoner's acquaintance at the Prince's Restaurant, on January 5th, 1903—I was lunching there with a lady, and he came up to us—I am not sure that the lady introduced us, but he knew her—there was a conversation about some horses; that was all that passed on that occasion—I next saw him a week or so afterwards at the same place—we had a conversation—he told me he had some shares in a certain company, and that he had not at the time thought of any name to place them in, and had put them in my name, and that I was entitled to a profit of £1,000 by having sold them—I think the company was called the "Credit Foncier"—this letter of January 10th I wrote at the Hotel Albemarle to the prisoner at Wargrave, "Berks:" My dear Sebright,—I hope you will not think me an awful bore writing to you when I am fully aware what a lot of letters you must needs have to attend to, but as I want you, as a pal, to grant me a great favour, I cannot desist writing; the favour is this, that if when your daughter has tried the horse, and you still like him, you will accept him as a token of my gratefulness to you for what you have done for me"—I understood by the transaction about the shares that I was entitled to the £1,000, and so I offered him the horse, which I think cost me £160—he had it on trial, with the idea of buying it from me—this was arranged between our two meetings at Prince's Restaurant—he next came to see me at my hotel, on the 12th, I think, and said, "I have come to see you about these shares," producing a letter ready written, which was, I supposed, a receipt for the bills which I was to sign, a formal document, to entitle me to draw the
£1,000—I said I had no idea of this business, or something like that, but that I would simply take his word for it—I was asked to sign two bills; they looked like cheques, but I found out afterwards that they were bills of exchange—I read them, but did not understand them—he did not say very much about the effect of them, except that I was entitled by signing them to draw this money—nothing was said about my being liable for anything if I signed them—I said I must take his word for what I did in the matter—I signed them, writing, "Accepted, payable at Drummond's"—it is all in my writing, according to the prisoner's dictation—I never accepted a bill before, except under advice—I had accepted one for about £3,000, relating to a cigarette company, under my father-in-law's advice, for my brother-in-law—I think that bill was paid, but it was done through my agents—I can only recollect one bill—this is the letter the prisoner brought on January 12th, and which I have described as a receipt: "My dear Downshire,—I have this day received from you two acceptances of £5,750 each in purchase of 12,650 preferred shares of £1 each, fully paid up, which you have this day purchased from me in the company which I am about to form, which is to be called the Credit Foncier of England, and am, yours sincerely, Arthur E. S. Sebright"—I wrote this letter [Exhibit 3] at the same time, on January 12th, at the prisoner's dictation: "My dear Sebright,—I enclose you my two acceptances of £5,750 each in payment of ray 12,650 shares preference of £1 each in the company which you are forming, and which is to be called the Credit Foncier, which I have this day bought from you.—Yours very sincerely, Downshire"—I did not understand much about it, as I trusted to the prisoner—I also wrote this letter: "My dear Sebright,—Out of the proceeds of the sale of my bonus shares in the Credit Foncier, please pay to "the person named "the sum of £525.—Yours very sincerely, Downshire"—I explained to the prisoner what I wanted to do, and he told me the language to write it in—I had never before had any transactions in shares of a public company except under advice—my agent manages my business and money affairs—the prisoner came next day to my hotel with another man, and said he had brought Mr. Hicks, the Secretary of the Reversionary and General Securities Company, to witness my signature—in the presence of the prisoner and Hicks, I went over the acceptances with a dry pen, at the prisoner's request—I think Mr. Hicks asked me if I had signed the documents, and I said, "It is all right"—I think I also went over my signature to letter No. 3, but I am not quite sure—I think on the 12th I asked the prisoner when I was to get my £1,000, and he said "Very soon"—I met him casually afterwards, and he gain said, "You will get your £1,000 very soon"—I always had the same answer—he accepted my gift of the horse—one day the driver of my private hansom gave me certain information about the prisoner, and I went the same day, February 4th, to my solicitors, Messrs. Lewis and Lewis, who upon my instructions commenced two actions, one in the Chancery Division to restrain dealings with the bills, and one in the King's Bench Division to recover possession of the horse—I swore some affidavits in both actions, and the injunctions were granted, but too late to save
one bill, which I had to pay, 23,782 6s. 5d.—this is the receipt—the action the other bill came before Mr. Justice Buckley on June 29th and 30th—I gave evidence then—judgment was given in my favour, and the bill was impounded in Court—after Mr. Justice Buckley's decision, the horse was returned to me.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I cannot remember whether on the first occasion I met the prisoner I was introduced to him by name by the lady I was lunching with, but I think so—we soon became on such friendly term that he called me "My dear Downshare," and I called him "My dear Sebright"—I am thirty two years old, and was at a public school for six or eight years—I have estates in Ireland and England which are managed by agents—I draw a large number of cheques in the course of a year—I know what a cheque is, and do not require assistance to draw one—I am aware that there are such things as public companies and shares in companies—I know the difference between a company which is in existence and one about to be formed—I did not bother very much about whether the company the prisoner spoke to me about was a company that was formed or not—I understood that this was a company which was going to be formed, but was not yet in existence—he was to be the manager. I thought—I understood that I was going to get £1,000—I did not know anything about bonus shares—as to letter No. 1, beginning "My dear Sebright, "I explained to the prisoner that I wanted to give halt the amount resulting from the sale of the shares to a certain lady; the lady who introduced me to him—I suppose it was explained to me that I was to get bonus shares—I suppose in consideration of the £11,500 I was to get 12,650 preference shares—I suppose that was because the company was not then formed—I suppose I was to receive a bonus of a thousand shares which, when sold, would give me £1,000—I said at the police court, "My object in taking the shares was to get the £1,000 profit; I was not told when I should get it"—that was correct—I understood the prisoner to say that these shares had been sold before January 12th—I really say that before January 12th I did not know what a bill of exchange was—I had, as I say, accepted a bill of exchange before under advice in the case of a cigarette company; it was payable at Drummond's Bank, and duly paid—that was a company about to be formed, and I suppose I accepted the bill for the purpose of taking shares in it—when Mr. Hicks came with the prisoner to my hotel I did not recognise that he came from the same office that I had been to in 1894 and signed an acceptance to a bill Hicks produced the two bills and said, I believe "Are these your bills and did you accept them" and I think I replied, "It is all right"—I knew then that they were bills and not cheques—I thought they were formal documents—after these criminal proceedings were commenced I went to a Mr. Faulkner, an engineer and model maker, of Shaftesbury Avenue—Faulkner did not introduce me to someone, saying, "This gentleman knows Sebright"—I may have had some conversation with Faulkner—I did not say there when asked what a bill was "I know what a bill is well enough"—I do not remember saying "I have been a—fool"—I may have said, I went to Lewis and Lewis, and left the
matter in their hands, and whatever they have drawn up I have sworn to; they told me they would get me out of paying, and that is all I—well care about"—I have been occasionally to the Trocadero bar—I am sure I have not been there drinking with the man who drives my hansom—I do not think I said to anyone, "I swore what I was told to swear to get him committed and that will bring the—money."
Re-examined. I am prosecuting by the advice of my solicitors as much as anything—in the course of this case I have become aware that the prisoner has been an undischarged bankrupt since 1880. and that he has been four times bankrupt since—I have realised all along that neither by criminal nor civil proceedings was there any possibility of getting anything out of him.
JOHN HARRISON . I am a clerk in the Registry of Joint Stock Companies—I produce the file of a company called "The Credit Foncier, Limited"—it was registered on January 28th, 1903, by G. S. and H. Brandon, solicitors, of 15, Essex Street, Strand, London—this address at Essex Street was registered as the company's office on July 15th, 1903—on the file are the memorandum and articles of association, and also the application to register, the declaration of compliance with Sections 1 and 2 of the Companies Act, 1900, the statement of the nominal capital, and the agreement with the Registrar—(Extracts from the Memorandum and Articles of Association and agreement were here read.)
Cross-examined. The fees and stamp duty on the registration of the company, amounting to £2,551 17s. 6d., were paid on January 29th, 1903—£2,550 is the stamp duty on the nominal capital.
Re-examined. The fees have to be paid before the certificate of registration is issued.
GEORGE MUSGRAVE HETHERINGTON . (MR. AVORY objected that this witness's evidence was not relevant to any of the false pretences contained in this indictment. MR. BANKES contended that the statement that the prisoner had sold 12,650 preference shares at a profit of £1,000 was a false statement, and made fraudulently, and one of the ways to prove it was to show that the business said to have been acquired by the company was worthless, THE RECORDER declined to exclude the evidence.) I am Chief Clerk to the Registrar of the Oxford County Court, and produce a file of the bankruptcy of Arthur E. Saunders Sebright—the receiving order is dated March 10th, 1896, the adjudication is April 13th, 1896, the estimated liabilities were £8,397, the estimated assets £823 8s.—he has never been discharged.
Cross-examined. I am not aware that the creditors received 10s. in the pound—there is no record, and it is no part of my duty to ascertain that.
Re-examined. There is no record on the file of his having paid anything, or ever having applied for his discharge.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger in the Bankruptcy Court, and produce the bankruptcy file relating to Arthur Sebright, of Claridge's Hotel, gentleman—the receiving order was on June 24th, 1886, the adjudication on July 15th, 1886—the liabilities were £15,281 14s. 8d.
the estimated assets were nil—I produce another file relating to the same person in 1899—the receiving order was August 18th, and the adjudication on September 18th 1890 the estimated liabilities were £2,828, the estimated assets nil—he has nor applied for or obtained his discharge—I pro-life a further file of 1898, relating to the same person—the receiving order was July 25th and the adjudication August 18th, 1898—the liabilities were£23,409 17s. 8d. the estimated assets nil—he has not been discharged, nor applied for a discharge.
GEORGE JONES PLOWMAN . I am clerk to Mr. Registrar Farman, of the Char., chance in Division, High Court of Justice—I produce a bill of exchange marked "I.B." drawn by the prisoner on January 12th. 1903, for £5,750 at throe months, and accepted by Lord Downshire—it was ordered to be brought into Court in an action between Sebright and Lord Downshire.
HENRY JEAPES . I am an accountant to Messrs. G. S. and H. Brandon, solicitors, of M. Essex Street, Strand—I was the secretary protem, of the Credit Foncier of England, Limited—I produce the company's books—I produced on either June 29th or 30th, 1903, before Mr. Justice Buckley, this "register of shareholders," which is called a minute book—I purchased these books prior to the registration of the company, to the best of my recollection.
Cross-examined. Messrs. Brandon registered the company on January 28th and 'hey received from the prisoner £3,000 altogether for the purpose—I think the registration has been in their hands for something like eighteen months—the memorandum and articles of association had been settled by Counsel long before.
Re-examined. Counsel settled them on instructions—the amount for the company's registration came from the prisoner's agent, I subsequently found out, Mr. Attenborough, who discounted a bill of Lord Downshire's, so I have heard.
GUILTY . (MR. AVORY requested the Recorder to state a case for the Court of Crown Cases Reserved, but the Recorder entertained no doubt upon the subject and refused to do so). A conviction under Bankruptcy Act at the Central Criminal Court on October 27th, 1899, was proved against him. He was given a bad character by the police. Eighteen months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, November 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Walton.
44. WILLY WINTER (32) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously sending to Fritz Shilmerman a letter threatening to accuse him of an infamous crime with intent to extort money from him. The police stated that the prisoner had been convicted in Berlin of receiving and blackmailing. Ten years' penal servitude.
MR. HUTTON. for the prosecution, offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted; MR. A. GILL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, November 21st, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. C. W. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; and MR. BLACK
HENRY JAMES CHURCHOUSE . I live at Capper Villa, Derby Road, Woodford—I am chief cashier at the Union and Smith's Bank, formerly Dimsdale, Prescott and Company, 50, Cornhill—the Smokeless Brickette Company, Limited, opened an account at Prescott's in March, 1897, which ran for about one year—a cheque book was issued, including the three cheques produced (Exhibits 12, 13, and 14), Nos. 10695, 10697, and 10698—I have been chief cashier about a year, but have been in the bank thirty-six years—neither in 1897 nor since have we had any customer named W. F. Goff, which is the signature of the drawer of Exhibit 12, nor any drawers named "V. Battery "or "A. C. Fardell," as on these two cheques (Exhibits 12 and 14)—I do not know the writings—the Brickette Company's account was closed in 1698—Exhibits 12 and 14 were presented at the bank, and I marked them as they appear—Exhibit 13 is a blank form.
EDWIN STEVENS (293 G.) I live at 41, Chapel Street, Hoxton—about October 1st I was on duty in the City Road—the prisoner came and asked me if I knew where he could get respectable lodgings—he was dressed in blue serge, as he is now, and a peak cap—he said he was an engineer off the torpedo boat Red Breast, and came from Chatham—I gave him my address—he came the next day—lie asked me if I could change this cheque (14) drawn by the "V. Battery" and signed "A. C. Fardell," of September 22nd, 1903—I said I could not do it, but we would go to a publican along the street—we went to Mr. Clark, whom I knew—the prisoner asked him if he could pass it through his bank—he said it would take two or three days—the prisoner asked if he would let him have £1 on it—Mr. Clark said he did not know him, but if I would stand security for him he would let him have it—I went surety for him, thanking he was respectable—Clark gave him the sovereign on my undertaking to be responsible—the prisoner lodged with me that night—he left 1s. 6d. with my wife to pay for the carriage of his box, which he said contained curios from Somaliland, where he bad come from, and diamonds and other things, but he could not mention all—his box never arrived—the next day we were in the garden, and he got smothered in tar, so I lent him two shirts, as his own were dirty; my wife said he could have mine, and they could be put back after he got his luggage—he said his
father was a brewer in Dublin—he stayed one night and two days—I next saw him at Bow Street—he gave no notice that he was going—he left nothing—he did not repay the £1—in consequence of Mr. Clark communicating with me I went to see him—he showed me the cheque marked as it is now, and I had to refund the amount.
Cross-examined. I did not write to him nor say that I could provide him with better lodgings—he said he had only come for two months, and I told him that he could live along with me—he said £5 of the cheque was from the officer of his ship—I know he was arrested, and could not return—I know nothing about him—he told me he had telegraphed for his box, and that a telegram had come back, "Too heavy, coming by goods."
Re-examined. He said the other 30s. of the £6 10s. cheque was for his wages.
HENRY CLARK . I am a licensed victualler, of the Prince Albert, Howe Street, Kingsland Road—I know Stevens—he came with the prisoner on October 1st—he asked me to change this cheque—I said I could not do so, but I would pass it through my bank—then one of them, I think Stevens, asked me if I would advance a sovereign—I agreed, on condition that I should hold Stevens responsible for it—I did so, and paid the cheque into my bank—it came back marked as it is now, "No account"—it was already endorsed as it is now—the constable has repaid me the sovereign.
THOMAS STANLEY FORSHAW . I am a grocer, of 19, Exmouth Street, Stepney—the prisoner was my schoolfellow at Epp Street board school—I have since seen him on different occasions in Stepney—on August 15th he came to my shop dressed in a blue serge suit and a middy's cap with a peak—he told me he had been to the War Office for money due to him, that he was a day or two too soon, and his account had not come through, but that Major Goff, of the Pay Department of the War Office, had given him this cheque for £5 4s. as part payment of his account—I asked him if it was genuine—he assured me that it was, and I cashed it—I told him I had no banking account but I would pay it to my provision people—a day or two afterwards I paid the cheque to a provision merchant, Mr. Brown, of Half Moon Passage, Whitechapel, and a few days later I received a communication from him with the cheque as it now appears, marked "No account," in consequence of which I went to 16, Hawkins Street, Stepney, where the prisoner had told me he was—I did not see him in the evening he came to me—I told him the cheque had come back—he said he was very sorry; he could not understand it being returned, and he was sorry he could not see about it the next day, being Sunday, but he would go on the Monday morning at twelve o'clock, and let me know the result—I have not seen him since, nor had any communication from him, until I saw him at Bow Street in custody—I have never had any part of my £5 4s. back.
Cross-examined. A promise was made by his sister after he was taken up on Tuesday or Wednesday—I believed his statement—I cannot say if he was himself deceived—he has been in the Army—he told me he had
recently come from South Africa—his sister promised that if I would not give evidence on the following Wednesday, the money would be forth-coming on the Friday—I gave my evidence.
HENRY WILLIAM WOOD . I live at 137, Jubilee Street, Stepney—I am a foreman at the London and India Docks—I have been there this month forty-one years—I have lived in the neighbourhood of Stepney all that time, and in this house twenty-five years—the prisoner is my son—he was born on June 24th, 1879—up to eight years ago he lived with me, when he left to reside with a friend named Crewley—I know very little about him—he visited us occasionally—I think he worked with Crewley's son—I have never followed any other employment—I have never been connected with any brewery in Dublin—I knew he had joined the Royal Marine Artillery about three years ago—he remained in that service about three months—this is his photograph—he was a private—I have seen him in uniform—I have heard why he left—he never told me.
Cross-examined. I heard he had been a trumpet major in the Scottish Horse—I am not aware that he was an engineer or a ship sergeant major—we were not on good terms—letters came to my house addressed to him from the War Office.
Cross-examined. There is an A. H. Goff in the Royal Artillery and a Major C. W. T. Goff in the East Lancashire Regiment, both spelt Goff—the List would contain the list of half-pay officers and of retired officers, unless an officer failed to report his existence.
JOHN PALFREY (Detective Officer.) On October 3rd I saw the prisoner detained at Shepherdess Walk Police Station—he was searched—upon him was found this blank cheque (Exhibit 13) upon Prescott Dimsdale's Bank—I showed it to him—he said, "It is one of my old cheques left at our office in Bolt Court"—that is in Fleet Street—I told him he would probably be charged with forging this cheque for £5 4s.—he said the endorsement was his writing.
Cross-examined. Another officer charged him with forging a cheque for £19,400—he did not say "Bond "Court, but "Bolt "Court—I know he visited Bond Court, Walbrook, but not that Budd had anything to do with him—I listened carefully, as I knew something about the other address—I did not put any questions to him—I made no note.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The other two cheques were handed to me; the two drawn on Prescott Dimsdale's Bank for £5 4s. and £6 10s.—they were handed to me to get cash for them; the one for £5 10s. was handed to me for my fare to Africa, and the other for £5 4s. was handed to me by a gentleman who asked me if I would accommodate him by getting it cashed; he waited at the top of the street while I went into Mr. Forshaw's shop; I sent the money since to Mr. Forshaw by my cousin, and he said the police told him he could not accept the money; I believe that money is in the possession of my solicitors at the
present time; as regards the £1, Police constable Stevens lent that to me independently of the cheque; we knew we could not get the cheque cashed by strangers; I was arrested the next night, and so I have not had a chance of paying the pound back; as regards the two shirts, they were lent me because we were doing a little job in the garden, and I got mine smothered with dirt; I left my own shirts at the house."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, repeated this statement, and added that the constable invited him and offered him better lodgings; that he told him he was short of money; that he never asked for the money, as he doubted the cheque, and was deceived; that the cheque for £5 is was handed to him by a runner, for whom he had changed cheques, and who promised to lend him 50s. of the proceeds; that he gave him Major Goff's address, and that he wrote to the address at G.P.O. in the Strand.
GUILTY . There were two other similar indictments against him; and one for obtaining money by false pretences; Sergeant Palfrey further stated Chat the prisoner had said that he was coming into an enormous fortune when he came of age, and that he had posed as Lieutenant Edwards, the son of the Earl of Leatrim, and that by these and other false pretences he had defrauded various people since he left his home. Seven years' penal servitude.
MR. THOMAS Prosecuted.
JOHN BAXTER . I am a shoemaker, of 8, Montague Terrace, Hackney Wick—the prisoner is my wife—on November 23rd we were in the kitchen about 1.30—we had a few words—I cannot tell you any more, I was in drink, and do not know what happened—we had a scuffle—I found I was bleeding; I do not know how it was done—we have been married thirteen years last September—I use this knife for my work, and sometimes at table.
The prisoner. He tried to strangle me in the kitchen—it is not the first time, for he has kicked me out at night, and turned the children out—it is no good putting anything to him, he remembers nothing.
By the COURT. I cannot remember whether I kicked her, or tried to strangle her, in the kitchen—I was intoxicated—I may have done so in the struggle—I have not molested her for years—I felt the blood in the kitchen—we agreed to separate.
JOHN BAXTER JUN . I am twelve years old, and live with my father and mother in Hackney Wick—they quarrelled about three weeks ago—I got out of bed and went down stairs into the kitchen—I saw father kick mother—he went up stairs—we followed—he tried to throw her down stairs—he called her everything he could lay his tongue to—he said, "Go and fetch a doctor"—it was directly after the quarrel in the kitchen.
By the COURT. Father ill-treated mother—he threw her in the street in the night—on this night he was tipsy—I have seen him kick her when he was tipsy before—when she is in bed he wakes her out of sleep and Jaws her—he has been throwing her out in the street and hitting and
punching her—he has been before the Justices for violence to mother—she had the baby in her arms.
JOHN WILLIAM OLIVER . I am assistant medical officer at the Hackney Infirmary—on November 3rd, about 3 a.m., the prosecutor was brought there by the police—I examined him—I found a wound about an inch long and half an inch deep in his right groin—it had been bleeding—there was a trace of blood on his shirt—I dressed the wound—it has healed—last Saturday I sent for him and examined the wound; it was practically healed yesterday week—it was not a dangerous wound—it might have been done with this knife.
Detective Sergeant Arnum (not sworn) here stated that the prisoner was a hard working woman; and that there had been a separation order through the prosecutor knocking her and the children about
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, November 21st, 1903.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. FORDHAM Prosecuted; MR. FRAMPTON Defended Vernon
and Moss; MR. HUTTON Defended Miller.
JUSTUS DUNCAN WILSON . I am a sergeant-major in the South African Constabulary—I stay at Queen Anne's Hotel, Aldersgate—I returned from South Africa on October 18th—on October 22nd I was in Trafalgar Square, opposite the National Gallery, when the prisoner Vernon spoke to me, and asked if it was open—I did not know him before—he said he had come recently from South Africa, and that he had been in the Johannesburg Mounted Rifles, a corps I knew something about—I met him again on the 24th, when he introduced me to an old friend of his, named Courtney, from Australia—he told me that Miller was on his way to Canada to go into a ranche—on October 30th I met them at Anderton's Hotel, in the coffee room—a few minutes after they came in Moss came round and was introduced to me as an insurance agent or a commission agent—arrangements were discussed with Miller with a view to my being in his service as manager—he asked me if I could go out at once—I said, "No, I could not leave under ten days"—he asked me to take charge of some thoroughbred rams, as he could not sail with them himself—I was to meet him at Halifax or Winnipeg—Moss came in and bowed to me, and in a conversation with Miller said that the sheep had been delivered at a railway station between here and Liverpool, and were being stored and fed for 1s. 6d. a day per head, and that a man had been secured to take charge of them—Miller said an arrangement had been made with me, and I was to go on the 29th—I met them at the same hotel and signed this agreement (Produced)—Moss suggested that I should give security for the sheep to the sum of £20—I demurred, as I had no banking account in Canada—ultimately I was persuaded to find security for £12—when I objected Vernon took
me on one side in a disinterested way and said, "You are getting a very good business opportunity; I know these Courtneys, and it will be a very good thing for you; you will be simply sending your money to Canada instead of having it in your pocket"—I consented, and as the banks were closed I handed Miller thirteen sovereigns, and we went into the Money Exchange opposite Charing Cross Post Office and got Canadian notes for sixty dollar—Miller handed them to me and I counted them—Miller put them in a registered envelope and sealed it, but before we got to the post office I noticed Moss with what appeared to be the envelope, putting it in his pocket—I said, "Let Courtney carry it"—we went into Charing Cross Hotel for a minute or two then went to the post office—Miller took out what I supposed to be the envelope with the notes in—I had gloves on, so Miller addressed the envelope at my dictation, and I believed it to contain the sixty dollar notes—it was addressed at a side table, away from the counter, and as he was in the act of getting it registered Sergeant Matthews took the letter and his men arrested the prisoners—Matthews asked me what was in the envelope—I told him it contained sixty dollars, and he said, "Open it and see"—I opened it and found pieces of newspaper—if it had not been for the officers I should not have discovered it until I got to Canada.
By the COURT. The reason for posting the notes to Canada was that Moss was insuring the sheep and wanted security to show that I was sailing and looking after them on board ship.
MR. FRAMPTON stated that the prisoners would themselves cross-examine the witnesses.
Cross-examined by Vernon. I said after we had first spoken that I should be glad to see you again, and I would not deny that I asked you to dinner in an offhand way—I did not gather that Courtney was only a casual acquaintance of yours—at the subsequent meeting, when you walked in and out, you could have known what Miller and I were talking about—I first met you and Miller at Anderton's Hotel on the 29th: on the following day I met Miller, and he asked me to meet him at St. Paul's Church, as he wanted to get information about my sailing—I never saw the agreement in your possession—you appeared disinterested until the end—I never saw you in possession of my money or of the registered letter at the Post Office—I had no suspicion till the moment when you were all arrested.
Cross-examined by Moss. The conversation when I first met you was not addressed to me, but it was so that I could hear that it was with regard to insurance of the sheep—something was said about the employment of another man, not myself, and I got a bit impatient, and said, "There has been no harm done; let it drop."—I produced papers which satisfied you all as regards the guarantee you asked me if my commanding officer was in London, and I told you you could see him if you liked: you then produced the agreement at the hotel, by which I was to enter Miller's service, and I believed that you had drawn it up—you signed as a witness—you were introduced to me as representing an insurance
company, and it was stated that the sheep had been insured and delivered at a railway station—I would not be sure you were alongside of me when I got the American money, but I believe you were present.
By the COURT. When the question came up as to whether or not I should pay money down Vernon's interest was exhibited all the stronger.
FREDERICK MATTHEWS (City Detective Sergt.) I was with Orsmond, Brown and Crocker in Fleet Street, and kept observation upon the prisoners on October 30th, and saw them go into the Money Exchange at Charing Cross—Miller and Vernon went in; Moss went up to the railway station—I saw them go afterwards to the Grand Hotel, all four together—Moss came out and went down into the lavatory underneath by himself—ultimately, they went to the post office—I saw Miller writing at a desk, and when he was handing the letter across the counter I took it, and the three prisoners were arrested—I said to the prosecutor, "What have you got in this?"—he said, "60 dollars Canadian notes"—I asked him to open it and see, and he found a piece of newspaper inside.
By the COURT. We arrested these men as a consequence of information we had received about a gang of sharps, and our suspicions were aroused by the prisoners' movements—the prosecutor did not know that we were watching.
JOSEPH ORSMOND (City Detective.) On October 30th I kept watch on the prisoners with the other officers—I arrested Moss in the post office—he said, "You have made a great mistake"—at Bow Street he made no reply to the charge—he was searched, and the envelope containing the Canadian notes was found upon him.
Cross-examined by Moss. I did not see you receive any letter as you crossed the street.
Cross-examined by Moss. At the police station the Magistrate asked if anything was known about you, and the reply was, "Nothing known."
Cross-examined by Vernon. The same reply was made with regard to you, and about all three prisoners.
Vernon, in his defence, said that he had not known Miller before he met him in a casual way, and that he introduced him to the prosecutor because Miller was going to Canada, and would like some information about the place; that he was a stranger in England, and that at all the meetings between the prosecutor and Miller he was a totally disinterested party, and, in fact, did not even listen to the conversations; that he (Vernon) was in the Johannesburg Horse, and his wife had managed a private hotel for two years, and was now managing a private hotel in Africa during his absence.
Moss, in his defence, said that he was introduced to the prosecutor as a commission agent; that Miller called upon him at his premises, and stated he was a stock buyer, and wanted an insurance effected on some rams for Canada, and Miller introduced him to Vernon and the prosecutor at Anderton's Hotel, and that the prosecutor was partly engaged to look after the sheep on board ship; that he told them the insurance company would want
to know that the man who was being employed was of good character, and the prosecutor proposed a security of £20, which he said would be no good, and suggested payment of the money into a bank and obtaining a bank draft; that he did not encourage the finding of cash security; that he went Co Charing Cross on the day of the arrest to see his sister off by train, and while he was there the other prisoners visited the Exchange; Chat he met them by the station gates and crossed over to the Post Office; Chat Miller said, "You can do this business for me; I want to send some letters," and he gave him a registered letter with another one, and put one into the letter box; Chat Miller gave the two letters to him in front of the prosecutor; that Miller took the registered letter, and the prosecutor remarked that his business was with Miller; that he had nothing to do with the agreement between the prosecutor and Miller, and had no idea that anything underhanded was going on.
MOSS and VERNON GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour each MILLER— Nine months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 23rd, 1903.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MR. BODKIN and MR. FITZGERALD presecuted; MR. SCHULTESS YOUNG
ALMIRE HOUSSIER . I keep a restaurant at 13, Soho Street—on October 16th, when I returned home, I saw the prisoner in the kitchen—I did not know that he was a sanitary inspector, but he told me that he was one—he said more ventilation was to be given to the lavatory—he looked into the larder and saw some meat there, and said it was nice and fresh—on October 17th I received this sanitary notice—I put the work in hand—on October 23rd the prisoner called again about 12.30 or 1 p.m.—he went and looked at the work—he said it was badly done, and said "It I will cost you £50 to have the work done that way"—he looked into the larder and picked up five cutlets and two chops, and said, "Every piece will cost year £50"—he said it was rotten—he looked at a tin of spinach and said, "Have you got any others?"—I said, "Yes, I have some in the corner of the kitchen"—we went into the kitchen, where he saw eight tins of spinach; the one in the larder was open—he said they were wrong and then said, "It will cost you £50"—he said that each cutlet and each tin of spinach would cost me £50—he said, I want to speak to you"—I said "Come up stairs"—we went into the dining room; I said, "Would you like to have a drink?"—he said, "I do not mind"—I said, "Would you like a whisky"—he said, "Yes"—we had two whiskies and a soda—he said, "It is a very bad thing for you, you will have to pay £700"—I said, "I cannot pay that money"—he said, "Very well, you will have to do eighteen months"—I said, "What have I to do?"—he took out a pocket book and wrote on the bottom of one of the white leaves, "£20"
—he showed it to me and said, "That, sir, you have to do"—this (Produced) is what he wrote—I said, "It is impossible to pay that amount of money; I have already a lot of trouble"—he said, "All right you have eighteen months," and he asked my name and put it in this book—he asked me my Christian name—I saw what he wrote—I also saw "213, Edgware Road," and "104 Oxford Street"—those are other places of mine—I did not give him those addresses—when I said I could not get the £20 he said, "Oh, yes, you can raise that money"—we were down stairs then—he said, "You are a big man; you can raise that money"—I went to fetch a letter from my landlord to show the prisoner that I had £30 to pay on the Monday—I said, "I cannot pay that, and look at the money I have to pay"—he said, "You can raise £20; you can go and ask your brother if you have not the £20"—I left him then, and went into the kitchen—the prisoner left the house, and I went to see one of the Councilors of the Borough of Westminster, Mr. Wilson—he and the Rector of St. Ann's Soho, Mr. Carson, came and looked at the meat—about 4 p.m. the prisoner and Mr. Strutt, the Chief Sanitary Inspector, came—we went down into the larder, and the prisoner pointed out the meat and other things to Mr. Strutt, who said it was bad—he said, "What are you going to do?"—I said, "I cannot pay the money"—he said, "All right, call the carman, and have the things removed"—when I said I could not pay the money I did not mention any sum—we went up on to the ground floor, and Mr. Strutt went away—the prisoner and I remained in the passage—before Strutt went away he said, "I am going to give instructions to the carman," and he gave the name and address, but I did not hear it—when he had gone the prisoner said, "Look here, look at the trouble; if you give me £20 you will not have the trouble"—I said, "It is impossible"—he said, "Yes, you can raise the £20; try and raise the money for next Monday, and we won't do anything before next Monday, but you must have the money; I know you can raise £20; you have got three places; ask your brother if you can have the money; mind you have the money for next Monday," and he went away—I did not say what I would do, I did not promise anything—if he had asked me £2 or £3 I was willing to give it him, but £20 was impossible for me to give—I did not say anything about £2 or £3—on Saturday, October 24th, went to Messrs. Allen's office at 17, Carlisle Street; they are solicitors to the City Council of Westminster, and made a statement there—I saw Mr. Hunt, the Town Clerk—no police were there then—on Sunday, about 2 p.m., Inspector Drew came to my house, and he came again on Monday with another policeman, about 3 or 3,30—he was shown into the sitting room, where tie previous conversation had taken place—he got under a table—before doing so he gave me £20 in gold, which warn marked by him—the prisoner had come to the house at 11 a.m., but had not seen me; he came again about 4.30—we went up stairs into the dining room—I took hold of some bills I had to pay and said, "Look here, sir, I have all those bills, more than £50 to pay, let me off with £10"—he said, "I cannot help your trouble, I must have the £20"—I picked up a bill and said, "If I don't pay that hill to-morrow I shall be summoned; let me out with £5;
I will give you £15, and I will keep the £5"—he said, "I must have the £20; if you don't give me £20 I have been this morning to Marlborough Street Police Court, and have had those two summonses signed by Mr. Denman, the Magistrate, and you will be up there to-morrow in the Court"—he showed me two blue papers—I did not see any name on them except "Westminster City"—they were like these two papers (Produced). but I did not see the bottom of them—I then gave him the £20; I put it into his hand and said, "It is very hard for me to give this £20 "'—he said, "It is not only for me; I have to share with somebody else"—he put it into his pocket and said, "Mind you keep your mouth shut, because if you say anything to anybody you will have six months, and I shall have six months as well"—I said, "Would you like to have a whisky?—he said, "And you?."—I said, "I don't mind," and I called for two whiskies—I did not go out of the room to do so; one of the waitresses came in, and I said, "Bring two whiskies and a soda"—the prisoner said, "Where was she, that girl? she was listening to us what we say"—I said, "No she was on the staircase, I suppose"—he said, "Anybody else in the room listening to what we have said?"—I did not answer, because Inspector Drew came out from under the table and arrested him—the other officer was in the next room—the prisoner was taken away.
Cross-examined. I do not regard all sanitary inspectors as my enemies—I was convicted on June 12th, 1900, of keeping a brothel on these same premises with two other persons—I was fined £15 and £5 costs or two months', the others were let off with a trifle—I do not know who prosecuted me then—on October 16th the meat was said to be fresh, and no complaint was made about it then—the sanitary notice that I received was to do with the sanitary arrangements of my house—I did not ask the prisoner to accept a present of a sovereign in regard to those alterations—I did not ask the prisoner on October 23rd what I could be fined for the cutlets—he put one of them on a piece of dirt—I picked it up and put it on the safe again—he said, "No, that belongs to me," and put it on a box of soda—I did not ask him how much I could be fined for it, because the meat was good; the rector and Mr. Wilson had been to see it, and they are well known gentlemen—the tin of spinach, which was bad, was by itself, and I said to the chef, "Put it away, and not only put it away, but put it in the dust hole"—it was not with the stock, which was in the larder—some of it was blown, and that was in the kitchen—I asked the prisoner to have a whisky and soda; he did not ask if he might have one—I did not push a sovereign across the table to him then—I was willing to give him £2 or £3, or perhaps £5, but I thought £20 was too much—I went and saw the rector and Mr. Wilson on the same day that the prisoner said I could get the money from my brother, and before he came again at 4.30—Mr. Wilson and the rector came and looked at the meat about 2 o'clock—the prisoner came to my house three times on October 26th—he came at 1 a.m., I was not at home then; he came about 1 o'clock, I was at home then; but I hid myself in the kitchen, because I did not want to see him, as I had not got the detective there then, and I had not got the £20—it was arranged that he should come at 4 o'clock—I do not know why,
because at 1 o'clock I had not promised him a farthing—I do not know if the papers he produced to me were quite blue—I do not think they were quite white—after the interview, while Drew was under the table, I asked the prisoner if he would have a whisky and soda—I knew that I might be liable for conspiring with another person to take a bribe—I could not sleep, because I was so frightened—I did not want to square the matter.
Re-examined. Calling for the whiskey and soda at the end of the interview, when Drew was there, was a matter which had been arranged—when I returned home on the Monday my wife told me something, and I went again to 17, Carlisle Street, where I was given some advice, in conesquence of which Drew came about 3 p.m.
EDWARD DREW (Detective Inspector C.) I was first consulted about this matter on October 25th—I went to the prosecutor's house on that day, and had a conversation with him—on Monday, the 26th, I went there again in the morning—it was arranged that I should go there again about noon—I went there about 3 p.m. with Sergeant Burton—I left him in an adjoining room, and was handed by the prosecutor twenty sovereigns, which I marked—I returned them to him, and then hid myself under a table at the further end of the dining room—about 4.30 the prosecutor and the prisoner came in—I was unable to see them, but I could hear everything that took place—I heard them sit down, and the prosecutor said, "I have a lot of bills to pay, and I cannot afford to give you the £20"—the prisoner said, "I cannot help you; I know it will be worth your while to give me what I ask you, and £20 is not too much; if you give it to me you will not hear any more about it, but if you don't you will have to go to Marlborough Street, and you can be fined as much as £700, so that you are getting off very lightly; I have been to Marlborough Street Police Court this morning, and have got the summonses, and here they are, signed by Mr. Denman, but you may take it from me that you will not hear any more about it"—I heard a sort of slapping of paper on the hand—the prosecutor then commenced to argue with the prisoner, and said he had a lot of bills to pay, and asked if he would let him off with £10—the prisoner said, "No, I have got somebody else to give it to; if you don't give it to me it will be very serious. If you tell anybody what you have done, you would get six months for doing it, and I should get six months as well"—I then heard some money counted, and I should imagine, being put on the table—I then heard the prosecutor ask the prisoner if he would have a Scotch and soda; the prisoner said "Yes,"—the prosecutor crossed the room and called out to the girl to bring up Scotch and soda—the girl came immediately into the room, and when she went out the prisoner said, "Was she listening?"—the prosecutor said, "No"—the prisoner said, "Have you got anybody else here?"—the prisoner said, "I do not know ", or he was about to make a remark, when I came out from underneath the table—as I did so the prisoner jumped up from the table and put both his hands into his trousers pockets—I rushed at him, seized both his wrists, and held both his hands in his pockets, and told him I should prevent him from
taking anything out—I could hear money jingling—I told him to take his hands out of his pockets empty, which he did—I then told him who I was, and that I should arrest him on a charge of demanding money by menaces from the prosecutor—he stood quite mute for several seconds—I called in Sergeant Burton, and sent him for a cab—the prisoner then said, "Can I have bail?."—I said, "No"—I told him to button up his coat, which he did—I put him into a cab and conveyed him to Vine Street Police Station—on the way he said, "I did not use any threats"—at the station I told him to turn out his pockets, and he produced from his right hand trousers pocket a quantity of gold, silver, and bronze, saying, "There is £22 there in gold"—I said, "Before you came to the place this afternoon I marked twenty sovereigns which I handed to Mr. Houssier and I have ascertained since you have been in custody that he has handed them to you at your request"—I then commenced to inspect the sovereigns—as I identified them by my mark, I put them down—he asked if he might also inspect them—I showed him where my mark was, and after examining three or four he declined to examine any more—he had also this pocket book and these two destruction orders signed by Mr. Denman—as soon as I got to the station I wrote down in my pocket book the conversation I heard underneath the table—I read it over to the prisoner, he made no reply, but said, "What Act do you charge me under?"—I said, "The Larceny Act"—he said, "This has all been arranged; I knew he was going to do it, and I was going to charge him under the Corrupt Practices Officials Act for bribing me; that is my answer to the charge."
Cross-examined. I arranged with Houssier that after the prisoner had accepted the money he was to give a signal by asking him if he would have some whiskey, so that I could catch him, and also to give a signal to Burton in case I could not get out of my position, as I was crumpled up under the table—it was as much a signal to Burton as it was for me, in case the prisoner tried to run out of the room—it was not intended that he should have it; I do not think the girl brought it—I told Houssier that at first he must refuse to give him the money, so that I could judge what the prisoner's intentions were—I did not tell him he was to give what he could afford.
JOHN HUNT . I am a member of the Bar, and Town Clerk to the City of Westminster—the prisoner was one of the sanitary inspectors under the Council—he had previously been at St. James's, Piccadilly—he has been at Westminster for five or six years—he was a full sanitary inspector with food powers—it was no part of his duty to act under the Public Health London Act in unsound food cases—there are food and drug inspectors appointed for that—his chief duties were in regard to sanitary matters—if, in inspecting places, he saw bad food it would be his duty to report it—he had no authority to institute or carry on any proceedings under the Public Bodies Corrupt Practices Act; it is a most complicated Act; you have got to get the fiat of the Attorney-General before you can proceed under it; the prisoner had no authority to take any money at all—it has never been properly laid down by the Council that if he
found any unsound meat ho should consult Strutt before taking it to the police court to have it condemned, but, properly speaking, he should do so—after an order of condemnation was made he should report it to Strutt and to the Public Health Committee; they sit alternate Tuesdays—there—was a meeting on October 27th—the first intimation that I had that the prisoner was in communication with Houssier with regard to £20 was on Saturday morning, October 23th, and that was when Mr. Wilson and Mr. Cardwell called upon me—I never had any communication from the prisoner that he was communicating in such a way with Houssier.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that the prosecutor had first offered him a sovereign, and afterwards £20 Co square the matter so as not to have any trouble; that he (the prisoner) wrote "£20" in his pocket book, and the prosecutor said, "Yes, I will give you that"; that there never was a summons against the prosecutor; that when he went to the house on October 26th, he went by arrangement to receive the £20; that he did not know why he said what he did about the Corrupt Practices Act, as he had not intended to charge the prosecutor with bribery; that it was not true that he was going to share the £20 with anybody; that the prosecutor had asked him how much he could be fined for each tin; and that he said he thought about £30.
The Jury returned a verdict of
GUILTY, but said, "We are of opinion that the bribe emanated from the prosecutor," upon which MR. YOUNG submitted that that was a verdict of
NOT GUILTY. MR. JUSTICE DARLING said that it was a verdict which people did not apparently understand, and asked the Jury to reconsider it, upon which they returned a verdict of
GUILTY, but strongly recommended him to mercy. He received a good character. Twelve months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
51. ARTHUR CROME (31) and EMMA CROME (28) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Arthur Thomas Soar, and stealing twenty-one rolls of cloth, forty overcoats, and other articles, their property. Second count, Receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted, and MR. WARD appeared for A. Crome, and
MR. WORBURTON for E. Crome.
ARTHUR THOMAS SOAR . I am a clothier, of 22, St. Michael's Road, Poplar—I live at 118, Melbourne Road, Leytonstone—I am my own stock keeper—on October 20th I personally locked up my premises at 5 p.m., and left everything as it should be—at 8 o'clock next morning I went there and found only the front door up; every other door was down, the place ransacked, and stock to the value of £90, including boys' overcoats and clothing, had disappeared, a quantity of which Property I have been shown since by the police—these two rolls (Produced) were at my premises, which were locked up on the night of October 20th, and which were missing the following morning—this is only a small part of the property missing—the rest of it is at Forest Gate police station—these
are merely samples in addition to this, a sun blind 30 feet long and 5 feet wide was taken from the rear of the premises—I have not seen it since; the pieces are left behind there were tickets on the cloth, with my number upon it, and they were still there when I saw them at the police court, so there can he no question as to their identity.
Cross-examined. I don't know either of the prisoners, or how the goods came into their possession.
GEORGE EDWARD EDGSON . I live at 240, Brunswick Road, Poplar—I am in the employ of the London and North-Western Railway Company—on October 21st, at 6.20 a.m., I was on my way home from night duty—I passed Mr. Soar's premises T did not notice anything in front, but when I turned the corner I saw a light chestnut cob, and a barrow with red wheels, and a man outside putting tarpaulin on the front—I stopped a little while just opposite—presently one man came out of the premises with a sun blind—that man, to the best of my belief, was like that man (The prisoner Arthur)—after that two more men came out—I could not see if they brought anything out—I noticed some cloth on the barrow under the tarpaulin—I remained there for about two minutes—I walked up the street, and on turning round I saw a barrow with three men by it at the top of the street—they jumped on and went away.
Cross-examined. I noticed this particularly, because I knew Mr. Soar did not start work till 8 o'clock—I cannot say positively that it was this man who was there—I was doubtful whether they were thieves or not, and did not mention it to any policeman on my way home, and, for all I know, the man I saw may or may not be the male prisoner.
DAVID SOLOMON . I live at 37, Old Gravel Lane, St. George's-in-the East—I am an errand boy in the employment of Harrison Garston, a tailor—on October 19th Mr. Garston handed me sixty-one ladies' jackets, which I put upon a barrow and took them, at Mr. Garston's direction, to Sun Court, Golden Lane—I left them outside the offices of Messrs. Brussell and Co., and went into the shop and remained there about two minutes, and when I came out the barrow had gone—I have never seen it or its contents since—they were shown to my master afterwards.
HARRIS GARSTON . I live at Old Gravel Lane, St. George'-in-the-East, and am a tailor—on October 19th I handed to David Williams sixty-one ladies' jackets to be taken on a barrow to Messrs. Brussell—the barrow was my property he came back without anything—on October 25th I went to Forest Gate police station and identified thirty-one grey and twelve blue jackets, value about £14, as a portion of the sixty-one jackets lost, valued at £20.
ARTHUR PUDDINGTON . I am a clothier, of 3, Pineham Street, Lime-house I personally closed my premises on October 17th, and left everything secure—on the morning of the 18th I was aroused by Constable Hubbard—I went down stairs and found that a burglary had been committed, and about forty silk handkerchiefs, ten skirts, two blouses, two frocks and other goods were missing, value £7—on October 24th I identified at Limehouse Police Station a quantity of my stock stolen between the 17th and 18th inst, value about £5.
DANIEL HUBBARD (683 K.) On the morning of October 18th I was stationed at Burnham Street, Limehouse., and noticed that two shutters at No. 2 had been forcibly removed from the window, which was broken—I aroused Puddington—a lot of things had been taken away.
ARTHUR WALTERS (Detective Sergeant K.) About 8 a.m. on October 18th I went to 2, Burnham Street, Limehouse, and found evidence of a burglary having been committed—I was present on October 24th, when Mr. Puddington identified a portion of his goods at the station—later in the day I took a handkerchief from Arthur Crome, which he was wearing, and which the prosecutor afterwards identified.
Cross-examined. He was wearing it.
HENRY WILLIAM BATES . I live at 175, Basing Road, Camberwell—am head packer and dispatcher at 14, Cannon Street—it is the custom to dispatch parcels from Sutton and Company at Golden Lane, owned by Mr. Watson, who carries on business as Sutton and Company, carriers—on October 8th, I dispatched by one of my carts to Sutton's, twenty children's waterproof cloaks and two children's mantles, and got Sutton's receipt for them—they were to be sent to Spooner at Plymouth—they never reached there—on October 12th, 16th, 19th, and 20th I dispatched parcels to different people in the same way, and in each case with the same result—I have since been down and identified part of the consignments found by the police, the greater part of which I had packed myself and dispatched—the value of them would be about £55.
HENRY WARD . I live at 35, London Road, Forest Hill—I am buyer and manager to Bryce, Palmer and Company, at 14, Cannon Street—during October I had had complaints of parcels not arriving—on October 28th and 30th I went to Forest Gate police station, and identified by the distinguishing label attached, forty-seven articles value about £30—the value of the goods lost was about £55.
Cross-examined. The marks on the ticket only refer to the colour and number of the goods—that ticket would not necessarily be taken off when it got to the customer—some use their own and some not.
Re-examined. The marks "English make waterproofs, Spooner and Company, Plymouth, warranted waterproof" are our customers', put hero by our direction.'
WILLIAM BROWN . I am an inquiry officer in the employment of Sutton and Company, 22, Golden Lane—I have examined the entries of October 8th, 12th, 16th, 19th, and 20th in relation to goods received rom Bryce, Palmer and Company—these are the signatures of receipts Of our firm as having received goods which were with us when they were stolen—I have no idea how they left our possession.
Cross-examined. Bryce, Palmer and Company send us consignments of goods to be sent to their customers—our representative signs the receipt or the goods—from the time they were handed to the sorters in the yard they were lost sight of, and from that point we can follow them no further.
observation in Green Street, Upton Park—there is a kind of open air market there—the two prisoners had a stall there, and round the corner of the street was a barrow left incharge of a boy—whilst they were at the stall the woman was in front of it serving customers—I noticed her in particular speaking to a lady with regard to a jacket—I was not near enough to her to see whether it was offered for sale or not—she did not take it a way with her but after she had gone I saw Crome take another coat from under the stall—I then went up to Arthur crome and spoke to him—I told him I was sergeant of police, and asked if that was his stall—he said, "Yes for to-night"—I then said, "You have some goods on your stall which I believe are the proceeds of a robbery, I shall take you to the Forest Gate police station—he said, "I bought them, I have receipts to prove it"—I said, "Whom did you buy them from?"—he replied, "Two men I know"—I said, "Who are they, where do they live?"—he replied, I do not know their names, nor where they live; this is all I bought," showing me four boys' overcoats—I took him to Forest Gate police station, and then spoke to the woman, and said, "You must come to the station with me, and you will be charged with the man I have just arrested for stealing a quantity of clothing"—she replied, "You cannot charge me: I am his wife, I have never known him to do anything like this before, and I did not know it was stolen, as I buy in the City; I have receipts to prove it"—I said, "Have you any more of these little coats?"—she said, "No; are you going to my house?"—I said, "Yes, and will search it"—she replied, "There are lots of other things there, but they do not belong to this job; I shall not say anything more about them until I hear what my husband says"—I took her to Forest Gate police station—she said, "We have not got any rolls of cloth, only a few little pieces in the front room up stairs; this is the first time we have done anything like this"—she said she had bills and receipts, which I have seen since; they are not connected with this case—she pointed out a pony and barrow at the side of the street, and said That is mine"—it was a costermonger's barrow—close to it was a chestnut peny, recently clipped—I searched No. 14. Old Ford Street, and, found the property connected with Soar's goods—these goods were all identified, with the exception of the four jackets, as being stolen from Mr. Soar's—I found the rest of the property, which has been identified since—I also found property of the various parties connected with the case, which has all been identified—these are only a few samples of property stolen between October 8th and 20th.
Cross-examined. I made a thorough search of the house, but did not remove everything; I knew they were carrying on a large business—I knew them before this transaction—Crome has been carrying on this business for six years in Green Street—I went on Friday night to the place—the goods were among other goods on the stall, for the purpose of sale, and anyone could rummage through them—I have ascertained that these people purchase generally from City houses—I have a number of bills—no charge had been made against them up to the time of their arrest.
Re-examined. I never saw the woman selling goods in the absence of her husband—she voluntarily pointed out the barrow to me'.
ALFRED NICHOLS (Police Inspector K.) At 11 p.m. on October 23rd I found the prisoners at Forest Gate police station—I told them I was an inspector of police, and I believed they were in possession of a quantity of stolen goods, and was going to search their residence and stables—he said, "You will find the stuff up stairs; there are the keys"—I then went to the premises in Old Ford Road, and found a large quantity of stolen goods—I seized the property, and took it to Limehouse Police Station first, and then to Forest Gate police station—it would fill a two-horse van—I was present when the goods were identified at Forest Gate by the persons connected with the case. I was also present when the male prisoner was identified from nine other men—the pony and cart were also identified—the prisoners were charged, but made no reply; they are man and wife; their marriage certificate is in Court—I asked them if they could give any account of their possession of the property—Crome replied, "I gave a chap £40 for the lot"—I do not know their names, nor where they live—he had no receipt—he has made a declaration since, which is not in his affidavit—there are two men awaiting trial for burglary at Brixton Gaol—in consequence of his telling me that those men stole the goods, I put them up for identification amongst some others—he was unable to identify them.
EMMA CROME— NOT GUILTY ; ARTHUR CROME—
GUILTY on the second count. (See next case.)
52. ARTHUR CROME (31) and SAMUEL PHILLIPS , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Henry Wheeler and another, and stealing four rolls of serge cloth and other goods, and 1s. 8d. in money, belonging to Henry Wheeler and another. Second count, Receiving the same.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted; MR. WARDE Defended Crome.
ISAAC SMITH . I live at 30, Fenton's Avenue, Plaistow, and am care-taker to Henry Wheeler and Co., clothiers, of 107 to 113, London Road Plaistow—I securely fastened the premises at 6.45 p.m.—on the 13th I found the place upside down, and a large quantity of goods missing, including four rolls of blue serge cloth, 75 yards in each, two dozen grey singlets, marked "Liverpool House, 95, Commercial Road," on the tabs, seven dozen flannelette shirts, marked "Day Bros., 246, Barking Road," on the tabs, twenty-one flannel singlets, eighteen blue dungaree trousers, and sis dozen blue jerseys, marked with a diamond.
WILLIAM ALBERT EDWARD PRATT . I am manager to Henry Wheeler and Co.—on October 24th I went to Limehouse police station, and examined four rolls of blue serge cloth and two pairs of serge trousers, and recognised them as the property of my firm, stolen* between the evening of the 12th and morning of the 13th—I have since examined forty-three jerseys, eleven cardigans, and twenty-six shirts, produced to me at Plaistow.
Cross-examined. I examined the goods found at Tilbury on Phillips, and identified them as the property of my firm.
FREDERICK STEVENS (Detective Sergeant K.) On the morning of October 18th I visited the promise 107. London Road. Plaistow—by the gate by the side of the budding, by breaking a pane of glass on the second floor window and removing a thumbscrew and chain, a door leading through an iron staircase had been forced, and several marks of a costermonger's barrow having been and out of the yard—the marks corresponded with a barrow with red wheels and a green body belonging to Crome.
JOHN STAFFORD (583 K) On the morning of October 15th I was on day at Medhurst Road. Old Ford—at 4.15 a.m. I saw Crome come out and wit! two men I do not know, harness the pony to the barrow—thinking there was something wrong. I said, "You are going out early"—he said, "I am going up the market," and he and the two men drove away down Grove Road.
By the COURT. Neither of the two men was Phillips.
Cross-examined. I thought it was an unusual time for Crome to go out so early—I have seen him go out at half past nine, never as early as on this occasion.
ALFRED VANSTONE (Detective Sergeant K.) At 9.30 p.m. on October 23rd I was keeping observation in Green Street, Upton Park, on Crome and his wife at their, stall—there was a costermongers barrow in a side street, Crescent Road, painted green and red wheels, and a chestnut pony, recently clipped, attached—I saw Crome's wife offer a coat for sale, and then place it under some other clothes—I went up to Crome and said, "Is this your stall?" he replied, "Yes"—I said, "You have some coats, the proceeds of a robbery: I shall take you to Forest Gate police station"—he said that he bought them, and had receipts—subsequently I took him to the police station, searched him, found some keys, went to where he lived, 14, Olga Street, Old Ford, and found four rolls of cloth and two pairs of trousers—took them to the station—I went to Gravesend on November 9th, and found Phillips detained there—I said, "You will be charged with feloniously receiving a quantity of jerseys and shirts, the proceeds of a robbery at London Road, Plaistow"—he said, "I expected that, but I did not know they were stolen; I made a mistake in giving a wrong statement at first: Fred asked me to fetch them from the station, I thought it was all right, as he sells things in the market; these are the two bundles; I knew what was in the little one, but I aid not know what was in the other; I did not know they were stolen; Fred told me to fetch them from Gravesend Station; I have sold two shirts"—I brought him to Forest Gate Station.
Cross-examined. I do not suggest that all the things on the stall were stolen, but a great portion of them were—he said he bought the goods in the City, which he had receipts to prove—Inspector Nicholls has the receipts.
Re-examined. Among goods on the stall there were twenty-two ladies waterproof jackets, five boys' overcoats, have since been identified as stolen property—the identification marks were torn off the tabs.
By MR. WARDE. The linings of the coats had been fairly torn out by force.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Police Inspector K.) At the station Crome told me where he lived, and with keys found upon him I went to 14, Olga Street, and examined four rolls of cloth there and two pairs of trousers, and took them to Limehouse Station, where they were identified, and afterwards to Forest Gate Station—Crome said that he bought the property with others off two men for £40—I asked where they lived, and he said he did not know—I asked if he had receipts—he said, "No"—he showed me receipts as to other property—have never seen rolls of cloth on his stall, only cheap goods, remnants, etc.—I have no evidence against Phillips, and there has been no previous charge that I know of against him, but I have had him under observation for some months.
GUILTY on the second count. CROME— Two years' hard labour PHILLIPS— Twelve months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
53. GEORGE BIRD , Feloniously applying to the presiding officer at a municipal election for a ballot paper in the name of George Terry. The prisoner, in the hearing of the Jury, withdrew his plea of not guilty and PLEADED GUILTY , and the Jury therefore returned a verdict of guilty. Two months in the second division.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MR. C. W. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. MURPHY
MATILDA PAXTON . I am married, but living apart from my husband, at 15, Mercer's Grove, Lewisham—I am a laundress—in November, 1893, I was living in Boone Street, Lee, with two boys of eight and two years of age, and a girl of ten months—I left them with Mrs. Woodward, of 18, Barrow's Place, Church Street, Lee, as I knew her—I paid her 10d. A day to mind them while I went to my work—on November 14th, 1893, I took the two younger children to Mrs. Woodward about 8 a.m.—Ellen was quite well then—I had fed her with bread and milk, and afterwards gave her a crust of bread, which she had when I left her—she had swallowed some of it—there was nothing wrong with her then—at 12.45 that day the boy Ernest brought me a message, in consequence of which I went at once to Mrs. Woodward's, and found her with Ellen in her arms at the door—it was only about four minutes' walk from where I work—blood was gushing from the baby's nose and mouth—it seemed to be suffocated, as if it could not get its breath—I took it first to Dr. Burroughs, and, on his advice, to Guy's Hospital—I did not see the prisoner—I knew he was living in the house with his mother and father—I understood she was Mrs. Woodward—I did not give the child corks, nor anything from which it could have taken corks.
Cross-examined. The child was not strong—it had never been under a doctor—the crust of bread was about the size of the forefinger—it held it in its hand—it had the breast in its mouth as I went round—I often used to give her a crust of bread—she could not crawl about; wherever you put her she remained; you would find her there the next time you went—I washed her and laid her on the bed while the boy was got ready for school—I had no medicine in the house, and only one bottle, and that had paraffin in—that was in the cupboard.
Re-examined. I gave it the crust of bread about 7.30 a.m.—I washed it, and after that I gave it the crust of bread—the child had no difficulty in swallowing it—I washed Ernest—he dressed himself—he was about in the room—he was eight years old—Walter was dressed and sitting in front of the fire—he was two years of age.
MARY ANN DUGGAN . I live at 6, Chapel Place, Boone Street—for seventeen or eighteen years I have been living with the prisoner, and had come to be known as Mrs. Woodward—I lived continuously with him till he was taken into custody on this charge—in November, 1893, I was living with him at 10, Barrow's Place, Lee—I used to take care of Mrs. Paxton's children, Ellen, Ernest, and Walter, for her—the prisoner was not in work in that November—Mrs. Paxton brought Ellen on November 14th, about 8 a.m.—the prisoner was at home—I went out to the shop about 10.30 till 11.30—I left the child with the prisoner in the same room—it was all right then—we had only one room—there were medicine bottles in the cupboard, and two or three bottles on the mantelpiece—I did not notice any corks in them—when I returned the child was bad, and blood was coming from her mouth—she was sitting on the floor—the prisoner was sitting in a chair in the room—I took the child up—I said, "What is the matter with this child?" and he did not answer me—I nursed the child, and sent the prisoner to tell Mrs. Paxton—he went out of the room—he came back and said, "I did not go myself, I sent the boy"—I said, "What is the matter with the child? is the mother coming?"—he said, "I have sent the boy"—I had the child in my lap—she was bad, and blood was coming from her mouth—Mrs. Paxton came and took the child away—I gave evidence on the first day of the inquest—when I came home I said to the prisoner, "What do you think?"—I told him I was going to the inquest—I did not know what was the matter with the child—I told him I had been summoned as a witness—he did not say anything—I said I could not think wherever the child got the corks from, or who gave them to her—he did not reply—that was not before I went to give evidence the first time, because I did not know; it was the second time, because I had to go and give evidence the second time—when I got back I said, "That poor child has had corks; where did she get them from?"—he made no answer—I said some were found in the stomach, and one at the back of the throat—he never said anything—the Coroner said, "He has got to come the next time"—I told the prisoner so—he said, "All right"—before I went the second time the prisoner said I was to say there were not any bottles in the place—I said, "Well, did you give them to her?"—he did not answer me—
I went with the prisoner to the second hearing—I told the Coroner I did not lose sight of the child, but I did go out for an hour—the prisoner told me to make this statement, I think two or three days before the second day—I said, "Why am I to say that?"—he made no answer—I did not know about his writing to Scotland Yard—he said nothing to me about it—I had kept on saying to him that I could not think who gave her the corks, and he did not say a word all the time.
Cross-examined. The prisoner behaved very funny to me—he threatened to hit me two or three times—he has not behaved right for a long time—he behaved decently to me the year the child died—he was kind—he was out of work two or three weeks—I did not have the third child—I applied the 10d. a day for minding the two children to the household expenses—the prisoner shared the food—I have had three children—one girl lived till she was five—the prisoner has threatened me a good many times—he has knocked me about two or three times, but not lately—he likes a drop of drink—he occasionally came home drunk—he was very fond of rum—sometimes he would come home sober—I left the child sitting on the floor that day—she could just crawl on her little knees—I asked the prisoner to look after her—he was sitting by the fire—the child was on the floor when I came in—I told the Coroner there were no corks in the house—I recollected my statements before the Coroner when I was before the Magistrate—I thought it was funny for my husband to tell me to tell the Coroner there were no bottles in the house, but he told me to say that—my husband had been drinking lately—he had a little work in August—I do not think he had work in September; only one or two days in the week—he is a grainer—there was not much money—I left the other little boy in the room when I went out for the hour—he walked about the room, being two years old.
Re-examined, The prisoner was sober that morning when I left him for an hour—he had had nothing to drink that morning.
By the COURT. He behaved well to me when I had the child—I asked him to marry several times—my first child died of convulsions and bronchitis, the second of diphtheria, and the youngest of consumptive bowels—we had not quarrelled lately before his arrest—I did make up my mind to leave him two or three times—I told him so—he said I could go—I did not go—'I did not know he was going to accuse himself of killing the child—he did not say he had been writing—I did not know it till the inspector came and told me he had been writing, and I was out at work the day he was taken—he has never charged me with putting corks in the child's throat, nor has anyone else.
LEOPOLD BURROUGHS . I am a medical practitioner, of 50, Eltham Road, Lee—in November, 1893, I had a surgery in the high road—I remember Mrs. Paxton bringing the female baby—I examined it, and found its breathing was very bad—its head was thrown right back, and the larynx pushed forward, as if there was an obstruction in the throat—I gave the woman a card for Guy's Hospital, with instructions to take it there.
Cross-examined. I was called at the inquest—I have bad oases of
young children swallowing what was not food, and not accidentally, and of older children—that child could masticate a piece of bread.
Re-examined. I never knew a child of ten months get into its gullet a cork an inch in length.
RICHARD HARMAN LUCE . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 42, Friar Gate, Derby—on November 14th I was assistant house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—the child, Ellen Paxton, was brought in by a woman—I examined it—I found it breathed with considerable difficulty, as though there were some obstruction—there seemed to be inflammation at the back of the throat—he was under the charge of Dr. Lister the next few days—after November 16th I took over Dr. Lister's work—on November 17th the child died of inflammation of the lungs—I was present at the post mortem examination, when a cork was found in the gullet of over an inch in length—I believe these bottles contain the gullet with the cork, and the stomach with two pieces of cork as they were found (Produced)—Dr. Targett has the charge of them—the cork interfered with the child breathing, so food had sunk into the lungs, that caused pneumonia and death—a child of that tender age could not have swallowed corks of the size of these or anything like it—they could not have passed into the gullet without assistance from without—the one in the gullet was too big to pass to the stomach.
Cross-examined. The larger cork pressed against the windpipe just below the epiglottis, and prevented food passing down the gullet, and so it passed down the windpipe into the lungs—the other two corks are not quite the same size; they are all in gradation—there is laceration in the gullet, but not above the point where the cork is; nothing observable certainly—there was at the point where the cork rested—there was evidence at the time that there was bleeding, but I did not see it—Dr. Burroughs gave the evidence.
Re-examined. The evidence on the post mortem examination bore out the suggestion that the corks were wilfully forced down the child's throat—I think it is impossible for a cork to get as far as that without assistance—I believe someone must have pushed them down.
THOMAS DAVID LISTER . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 50, Brook Street, Grosvenor Square—in November, 1893, I was house surgeon in Guy's Hospital—the child, Ellen Paxton, was taken in on November 14th, suffering from a swelling of the neck and difficulty in breathing and swallowing—I had her in my charge from November 14th to 16th, when I handed her over to Mr. Luce—it was not possible for her to have obtained works while under my charge—it was extremely unlikely for a child of en months to have accidentally got corks into its gullet and stomach in the position in which I see them to-day for the first time (Produced).
Cross-examined. The preserving spirit would not, I should say, make he cork swell—I cannot say without experiment, but I think the tendency would be to contract rather than swell them—I put my finger down the child's throat—there was a good deal of swelling of the tissues, the soft lining of the tissues of the throat; I could not get beyond that—one might feel the top part of the posterior wall of the gullet, the oesophagus
—I should not like to say it is impossible for the corks to have got there without other aid, but it is highly improbable.
JAMES HENRY TARGETT . I am a surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I made the post mortem examination in November, 1893—these bottles contain the corks which were taken from the child's stomach and gullet—the large corks remained in the gullet—the Exhibits have been in my charge—I agree with Dr. Luce with regard to the way in which the corks must have got into the child's gullet—that the child was unable to swallow was evidence of that fact—two are in the stomach; the other one is too large to have been swallowed by natural mechanism—if the smaller corks had got sufficiently far back in the throat the child might have swallowed them, but force must have been required to have got the larger cork in that position.
Cross-examined. I mean if they got within the grasp of the muscles; behind the soft palate it would not be impossible, but it is quite improbable—the preserving spirit, which we call formalin, would not swell the corks—I should not think they have been swallowed since the child was in the hospital—I do not think the position of the corks has been altered—a cork could only be pushed in by the end of the finger in a child's mouth; one could hardly assume two fingers at work.
Re-examined. In my opinion the large cork was pushed down by the finger—the smaller corks probably passed sufficiently far back to get within the grasp of the muscles, but there must have been some assistance, a child of ten months having a smaller passage—swallowing is a rapid act, but it might have been painful—the corks would have to distend the throat from the back of the mouth—the big cork could not have got into the child's stomach by any muscular action—it is in a curious part of the passage separating the part above and the tubular part below, and the passage is rather narrower there—I cannot imagine a child picking up the smaller corks and swallowing them, and then swallowing the larger one to the point where I found it.
ARTHUR IANGHAM . I am a solicitor, of Bartlett's Buildings, Holborn—I was Deputy Coroner for the Borough of Southwark—on November 28th I held an inquest on the body of this child—I took notes of the evidence which was given on that occasion—I have before me my note of the examination of George Henry Woodward, taken on that day in my own writing—it was not signed by the deponent—he was sworn before he gave it—(Read): "George Henry Woodward, sworn, saith, I live at 10, Barrow's Place, Church Street, Lee. I am a painter. I first saw deceased child about the first week in November; that is when it came to my wife; she came with my consent. I was at home on the 14th November the whole day (I had no work to do that day). About twenty past nine in the morning the child was brought by the mother. My wife took it in her arms and nursed it all the morning. About half past twelve she gave it a slice of brown bread and butter. About one o'clock it was took with a choking in the throat, and turned very black in the face after that it began vomiting up a lot of blood. My wife said to me,' For goodness sake, do go for the mother!' I went round at once; she was
gone to dinner then. But I saw his eldest boy, and told him to go for his mother at once, as the baby was bringing up blood. She came about two minutes after that, and said, "What do you think I had better do with the child? "I said, 'Take it to a doctor at once.' She got up and took it, I suppose. I did not go with her, neither did my wife. She came back again about an hour and half after. She said she had been to the doctor's. Both Dr. Burroughs had seen the child and also Dr. Clark, and had ordered it to Guy's Hospital. She brought the child back with her. That would be away from the station. The mother brought the brown bread and butter in the morning. I had not taken any notice of it. My wife nursed the baby the whole morning without putting it down once. I did not object to my wife taking charge of the baby; I said she could do as she liked about that. It was rather troublesome. About a week after she first had it I said she would have to give it up if it kept so troublesome. Mrs. Paxton came one night at the beginning of November and asked my wife if she would mind the child, without any introduction. I do not know what made her come, I am sure. I cannot account for the corks. I am quite sure the child never got them in my house. My child was ill about three months ago, and died. My child had medicine from Dr. Burroughs and the Evelina Hospital. It only had one bottle. I am quite sure of that. Only one bottle was used for all the medicine he had. I threw the cork away in the dust bin I am quite sure I have no more medicine bottles in the house. The size of the cork would be about an inch long. The child's little brother, two and a half years old, was the only person in the house besides me and my wife."
DONALD HANLEY NORTH . I am Registrar at Scotland Yard of letters received by the Commissioner of Police, which, as in this case, we stamp and send to the Criminal Investigation Department—the four Exhibits are dated August 17th, September 23rd, October 25th, and "August 12, 1902"—they were received, stamped, and forwarded on August 18th, September 24th, and October 26th, and on or about October 13th, 1903.
Cross-examined. We read them—I cannot say what, if any, are statements without foundation, as they were dealt with by the Criminal Investigation Department—we get plenty of rambling letters—inquiries are made, and some are answered—the one dated August 12th, 1902, was received in October, 1903.
FREDERICK CLEVELAND (Police Inspector R.) On October 13th I went to 6, Chapel Place, Boone Street,—the prisoner opened the door—when he saw me he immediately ran up stairs, saying, "Come up stairs; I know who you are, and what you have come for; you have come for me"—I went up stairs—I told him I was a police officer, and that anything he said I should take down, and it might be afterwards used in evidence against him"—he said, "I know that; I am here waiting for you, and all you have to do is to take me"—I had not made up my mind to arrest him at that moment—I had a letter in my possession, and said, "Is your name G. H. Woodard?"—he said, "Yes, my name is George Henry Woodard"—I then showed him letter A (Of August 12th)—I had made
up my mind then, because he told me his name was Woodard—there was further conversation—I took him to the station, where he was charged, after which I observed that he was about to say something—I told him I should take down any statement he made—he said, "All I have to say is that I choked the child with corks; I had been drinking for two or three days previous; I do not know why I did it"—he signed that in my presence.
Cross-examined. I heard him say before the Magistrate that he did not remember writing the letters, as he was drunk—he said, "All those notes I sent off to Scotland Yard I sent under the influence of drink," or words to that effect—I have known instances where people have sent statements which on inquiry have proved to be wholly unfounded—I have never had a case of a person saying he was guilty of crime, but I have heard of such cases.
MARY ANN DUGGAN (Re-examined.) I know the prisoner's writing—the three letters and the post card produced are his writing—(Read) "August 17th 1893. Sir about 11 years ago a child was taken in Guys hospital name Ellon Paxton and died about 24 hours after in a inquest was field Before Mr. Langham 1 cork and 2 Peases of Cork was fount inside the Child, they war Wilfly forst down the Child throat to kill her, and her murder lives in Boone Street Lee. Now what the mother and the young woman said at the inquest was the truth But what the man said was false that man can tell you Who done it if he likes Please excuse Bad riting every word is the truth W.—H. C."—Post card: "September 23 1902. Sir your man is on the right track this time all you have to do now is to trace this hand riting and you will find the man that worst the corks down the childs throat Name of the child was Ellon Paxton"—"October 5 1902. Sir. has you have taken no steps to and the truth of What is sent to you about the man that kild the Child lame elon Paxton I Will Send you one mor clue and the Last I shall send to you the man that done the deed was at the inquest Be for the Corner Mr. Langham At Guy's hospital"—"August 12th, 1902. Sir I am the man that kild the Child name Elon Paxton at 10 Barruns Place Church Street Lee By choking her with corks and I am ready when you like to fetch me G. H. Woodard 6 Chapel Yard Boone Street Lee").
GUILTY of manslaughter. Five years' penal servitude.
Before Mr; Recorder.
MR. BIGGS Prosecuted.
ARTHUR EDWAR SECKER . I live at Deptford, and am manager to the Glengar Iron and Steel Manufacturers at Grove's Wharf, Cubitt Town—I am in the habit of going, at the end of the week, to my home via Bridge Street, Greenwich—on Saturday, October 17th, I was going home between 12 and 12.30 p.m.—I had been over to the works to get some
books—I was carrying £13 in gold and £2 in silver in ray pocket, a cash book belonging to the firm, and this Encyclopaedia of my own (Produced)—when I came out of the works the street was quite deserted—I had not got more than seventy yards into Bridge Street when I was suddenly attacked from the rear—I was hit behind my head, on my chest and throat, and was knocked down—there is no lamp in the street, and the public houses were closed—I recognise Wheeler; he kicked me; there were three of them there, and they all had a go at me—I was knocked nearly senseless—I had thirteen bruises on my body, and some on my hands, where I have the scars now—I was kicked while I was on the ground—I shouted for assistance to the best of my ability—a witness ran across the road and knocked Hedley down on top of me—I defended myself as well as I could with my umbrella until it was taken away by Hedley and broken—a few days afterwards the Encyclopaedia was brought to me by the police—my assailants did not obtain the cash, as assistance came to my aid, so they had not time—this (Produced) is what is left of the umbrella.
Cross-examined by Wheeler. When you were at the station on the Sunday night I said you were the man who knocked me about—I had been in bed all day suffering from the effects of the kicks and bruises which you gave me.
Cross-examined by Hedley. I had seen you in Bridge Street about 9.30 p.m.
By the COURT. It is not my usual practice to leave the office at that time on Saturdays, but I had been away to Scotland on business.
NATHANIEL HAWKINS . I am a labourer, of 20, Connelly Street, East Greenwich—on October 17th, about 9.30 p.m., I was going from. Church Street into Bridge Street—I saw the prisoners and another man whom I do not know—the prosecutor was walking behind me—I did-not know Wheeler before, but I heard him say, "That's him; he is the manager over the water"—I saw Wheeler again at 12.30 or 1 a.m. in Bridge Street—I next saw him in custody, and I recognised him as the man whom I had heard make that remark earlier in the evening—Hedley was with Wheeler at 9.30—I do not know if they are companions.
Cross-examined by Wheeler. When I heard you say, "That's him, he is the manager over the water." you were in Bridge Street with Hedley and another man.
Cross-examined by Hedley. I did not see you strike or kick the prosecutor.
ROBERT PETERS . I am a labourer, of 16, Church Street, Deptford—in the early morning of October 18th I saw the prisoners standing at the corner of Bridge Street and Church Street—I had seen them before—I saw the prosecutor walking round the "corner towards the prisoners—he was on the other side of the road to me—I see them stop the prosecutor, then all of a sudden I see a scrimmage in the road; the prisoners and another man attacked him—I was only a few yards away—I am quite sure the prisoners are two of the men—I have worked for the prosecutor's firm for the last week—I saw the men breaking up the prosecutor's umbrella,
and then try to kick him three or four times—I interfered, Hedley made a strike at me, and I told him not to kick me, and I knocked him down—I saw one of the other men walk round the prosecutor with a book under his arm, then he ran away—dozens of people were there at the time—it was fairly easy to see.
Cross-examined by Hedley. Ton were going to kick the prosecutor when I shoved you away.
By the COURT. The three men were kicking the prosecutor.
JOHN FRANCIS . I live at 7, Little Thames Street, Greenwich—in the early morning of October 18th I was in Bridge Street, Greenwich, opposite the Nag's Head, which is not a stone's throw from the corner of Church Street and Bridge Street—I could see anything that took place at the corner—I saw the prisoners at the corner—I saw the prosecutor coming along carrying a book under his arm—I did not know him—when I got to the corner I saw Hedley punch the prosecutor in the chest, knock him down, and kick him in the thigh—Wheeler picked up the book, and walked away—I did not see him strike the prosecutor—another man whom I cannot recognise was there—I do not know if he kicked the prosecutor—the police came and caught hold of Peters, who was helping the prosecutor—the police thought he was the man who had knocked the prosecutor down—I pointed out Wheeler.
THOMAS HONEY BUN (35 R.) At 12.30 a.m. on October 18th I was in Bridge Street—I saw the prosecutor surrounded by several men—I do not know who they were—I asked the prosecutor if he would know the men who had knocked him down—he said, "Yes"—I subsequently arrested Wheeler; he had no book in his possession then—when he was in the dock I noticed that he had a piece off his thumb—when he was charged he said, "I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined by Wheeler. When I arrested you you were walking towards me.
GORDON ROWE (Detective Sergeant R.) On October 19th, about 10 p.m., I arrested Hedley—I told him I was a detective officer, and should arrest him for being concerned with Wheeler in assaulting and robbing a man in Bridge Street—he said, "Are you sure you are not mistaken?—I said "No, I do not think so"—he said, "Well, you will see"—on the way to the station he said, "Are you sure?"—when charged, he said, "Well, you are certain"—on October 21st I found this Encyclopaedia in front of St. Peter's Church, about seventy yards from where the crime was committed, and in the direction which Wheeler took.
Cross-examined by Hedley. While you have been waiting for trial I have been to your wife—I did not say to her, "If we could get the other man it would be all right, because we know it is not your husband that we want."
By the COURT. There was a third man whom we have not been able to arrest up to the present—we have a description of him—I do not know him by name.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Wheeler toys, "I know nothing at all about it." Hedley says, "I can prove where L was at 12.30, the time they say."
GEORGE MARKER . I am a labourer, of 81, Bridge Street, Greenwich—I was coming down home on October 18th about 12.30 a.m.—I see Hedley the worse for drink, and I took him home—I did not see anything of Wheeler—the public houses had been closed about twenty-five minutes—it was two or three minutes' walk from the Nag's Head that I saw Hedley.
Cross-examined. I was sober enough.
Wheeler's defence: "I was at work until one o'clock on the 17th. I went home to change myself, and went out. I had been out drinking all the afternoon, and that is how I do not remember much about this case."
Hedley's defence: "I can prove I was in doors by 12.30 on the Saturday night."
A. E. SECKER (Re-examined.) I had not taken the money from the works earlier in the day—I had not had it in my pocket since 1 o'clock; I took it when I left the works the last time.
GUILTY . The prosecutor stated that he still felt the effects of the violence end could only work half the day instead of the whole in consequence.
Eighteen months' hard labour each.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted; MR. TURNELL Defended.
FRANCIS MATHEW WILLIAMS I am cashier to Dakin and Co., Limited, Tea and Coffee Importers, of St. Paul's Churchyard and Cornwall Road—the prisoner has been a traveller for them since November last year, under the agreement produced—he obtained orders in different parts of the country and sent them on to Cornwall Road—he also collected money, and in the case of cash he paid it into his own banking account, drawing a cheque against it and sending the firm his own cheque about three times a week, with an advice letter—on June 20th he sent an account of £5 7s. 4d., but did not account for the receipt of any such sum, and we did not know it had been paid, and the same as to £2 received by him on August 4th, which we did not know had been collected, also £1 14s. 1d. received from Mr. Breed—on December 14th, as to £3 11s. 5d. received from a Mr. Gregory, he never accounted for it, although he did account for other sums—on September 27th, in consequence of knowledge acquired by the company, a letter was written to him, giving him notice to terminate the agreement on account of his irregularities and mode of life—a circular letter was addressed to our customers about September 29th, and in consequence of the replies a warrant was obtained for his arrest—he was paid his commission week by week and expenses—he said that he left
Brixton, where he lived, because he had arranged to work new ground—we did not know, till we found out for ourselves, that he had given up his house, or anything about his connection with a Devon County Tea and Coffee Association—I never knew him as M. J. Hayes or as M. J. Hill—when he says that the accounts were his I do not know what he means—he got his commission directly the orders were sent out.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I heard that you had been in the employment of the company for seven years, but had left about a year ago—I wad with the firm when you came back—nothing was said in the agreement with you as to the collection and receipt of moneys by you.
Re-examined. If the prisoner kept moneys for some time before he accounted for them I did not know it—his commission was about £300 a year—he collected about £2,500 a year.
JAMES ALFRED BREED . I am a baker and confectioner, of 87, Hazleville Road, Hornsey—I owed the firm £3 14s. Id.—on July 31st I received a statement of account, and on August 14th I paid £2 on account to the prisoner, and received his receipt—I paid the balance by postal order, and received receipt dated September 9th, 1903—the postal orders were sent to his house at Brahma Road, Brixton.
MRS. MARGARET GREGORY . My husband is a baker and confectioner at 290, High Street, Brentford—in September we owed Dakin and Co. £3 13s. 3d.—on the 14th I paid the prisoner cash to that amount, less 1s. 10d. discount, and received a receipt.
REGINALD FRANK DIBBIN am a clerk in Receiving Department of the London and South-western Railway at Nine Elms—about September 16th I received from 16, Brahma Road, Brixton, a letter signed "M. J. Hill," to collect one ton weight of boxes and cases.
ALFRED LONG (Detective Sergeant L.) On October 11th I went to Plymouth and found the prisoner already in custody—I had a warrant for his arrest, which I read to him—he said, "That is not all; it runs into about £200 altogether; I do not think this ought to be a criminal prosecution, it ought to have been recovered by civil action, as I am a traveller employed on commission"—I brought him to London, where he was charged, and made no reply—when I arrested him I found on him a number of cards with "Devon County Tea and Coffee Association Agent, M. J. Hayes, 12, Hamilton Gardens, Mutley," printed on them.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Two months in the Second division.
Before Mr. Recorder.
57. FRANK ELLIS (62) and JOHN DALY (35) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edward Turner, and stealing a locket and other articles, his property, ELLIS having been convicted of felony at Newington on July 12th, 1899, as William Grub; and DALY at Clerkenwell, on December 4th, 1900. Six other convictions were proved against Ellis, and five against Daly. Five years' penal servitude each.—
(58). GEORGE HIATT (18), FRANK DUTNELL (16), ARTHUR LEVERETT (15) and ALFRED HIATT (15) , to stealing and receiving 340 yards of copper wire, the goods of the London and South-Western Railway Company; ALFRED HIATT and FRANK DUTNELL, also to stealing and receiving 190 yards of copper wire, the property of the same company. Leverett received a good character. GEORGE HIATT— Fifteen months' hard labour; ALFRED HIATT— Six months' hard labour; DUTNELL— Ten months' hard labour; LEVERETT— Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 14TH, 1903.