CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 13TH, 1904.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
MESSRS. BARNETT AND BUCKLER,
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the King's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Tuesday, September 13th, 1904, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. SIR JAMES THOMSON RITCHIE , Bart., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WALTER GEORGE FRANK PHILLIMORE , Bart., and the Hon. Sir THOMAS TOWNSEND BUCKNILL, two of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt. Sir JOSEPH RENALS, Bart., Sir ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON , Knight, K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOHN CLARLES BELL, Knight, HENRY GEORE SMALLMAN , Esq., and WILLIAM CHARLES SIMMONS , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; and LUMLEY SMITH , Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court; His Majesty's Justices of Over and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
ANDREW WILLIAM TIMERELL, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
RITCHIE, MAYOR. ELEVENTH 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 (†) (hat they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 13th, 1904.
Before Mr. Recorder.
634. FREDERICK BROWN (46) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 22 undervests, the property of Julius Elkan and others, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on August 12th, 1902. The police stated that there were twelve other convictions against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. —
(635.) EDWARD GOLDER (39) to feloniously setting fire to a stack of hay the property of Peter Barron. The police stated that there were sixteen previous convictions against him. Eighteen months hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(636.) HENRY SCUTT (40) to stealing four Government of India promissory notes, the property of Richard King Magor and other his masters. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(637.) JOSEPH ARTHUR ROCKINGHAM SMITH (25) to stealing whilst employed under the Post Office two post letters containing postal ordeis for 1s. 6d. and 10s. 6d., the property of the Postmaster General Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(638.) MICHAEL BURKE (30) to stealing whilst employed under the Post Office three letters containing a cheque for £6 and two postal orders for 10s. each, the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(639.) HARRY MINTER DAMANT (46) to stealing whilst employed under the Post Office a postal packet containing three cheques, the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' in the second division — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(640.) STEPHEN EDWARD WATTS (21) to forging and uttering a receipt for £10 with intent to defraud, also to forging and uttering knowing it to be forged an authority for the payment of money, also to stealing a post office savings bank deposit book the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(641.) PERCY MATTHEW COWIN (32) to stealing whilst employed under the Post Office a post letter containing postal orders for 20s., 20s., 20s. and 2s. 6d. the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE and MR. HIND Defended.
FRANK DICKENSON . I am a porter to Messrs. Waterson and Sons, stationers of St. Bride Street—on August 19th, about 12.10 or 12.15 p.m., I was with a truck in White Street, a turning out of Moor Lane—I know Hackney Road, it is about twenty minutes walk from White Street—I went into a warehouse in White Street, leaving the truck outside unattended; there were several parcels on the truck—I was away not more than five minutes; when I came back I see Middleton, who is now serving a month's imprisonment, lifting a parcel out of the truck; he walked across the road and went down the court opposite; the prisoner was following him; I went down the court and caught hold of Middleton—the prisoner instead of assisting me, as I expected him to do, rushed up behind me, let out at me and struck me—I turned round, and as I did so he struck me on the nose again, and then the two of them pummeled me—I held on to Middleton as best I could—he broke away, I followed him; the prisoner ran in another direction—I gave Middleton into custody—the parcel was left in the court and a witness picked it up—the prisoner got away—on September 2nd I went to Moor Lane Police Station—I went into a room where there were nine men in a row—I was told to pick out the man who struck me—I went straight and identified the prisoner; I touched him on the shoulder—it did not take me quarter of second to do—neither of us said anything—I am absolutely positive that he is the man—in the struggle his face was impressed upon my mind—I could recognise him two years afterwards.
Cross-examined. While Middleton was crossing the road, I saw the back of the man who was following him—when I got into the court I passed the second man, and turned round to look at him to see if he would help me—I was going to speak to him—I should have known him again two years afterwards if there had been no struggle, but I should not be so positive—I tried to hold him and Middleton—it took them five minutes to get away from me—I know the King's Arms in Pritchard's Road—it is about twenty minutes off.
HARRY ENNES . I am a tin cutter—on August 19th I was in Hanover Court—I do not know if that is a turning out of White Street—I saw Dickenson struggling with two men—I did not know him before—one of the men was Middleton, who was afterwards convicted, and the other was the prisoner—they both ran away—I did not see Middleton caught—there was a parcel on the ground, and Dickenson called out for a little boy to look after it, but he ran away, so I looked after it—I do not know which of the men dropped it, or what became of them—on September 2nd I went to Moor Lane Police Station, and saw nine men in a row in the charge room—I was asked to pick out the man who ran away—I picked out the prisoner and touched him.
Cross-examined. I did not know him before—when I came on the scene the three men were struggling together—I did not take a hand in
it; it lasted more than a minute; I stood watching them—I did not know what it was about—they ran away in the same direction, towards Milton Street; one of their hats dropped beside me—I think it was Middleton's—I believe the prisoner was in front.
EDWARD MARRIOTT (Detective, City) On September 1st I saw the prisoner in custody at Bethnal Green Police Station—he had been arrested by the Metropolitan police—I told him I was a City police officer and was going to take him back to the City, where he would be charged with another man named Middleton for stealing a parcel of stationery, on August 19th—I did not mention the time of day—he said, "You will let me have a fair identification, won't you"; I said, "Yes"—about 9 a.m., on September 2nd, he was placed with eight other men in Moor Lane Police Station—first Dickenson and then Ennes identified him; the first was not allowed to communicate with the second—the prisoner was charged and made no reply—he was taken to Guildhall, on the way he said, "On the 19th I was working for Mr. Isaacs at the King's Arms, Pritchard's Road, Hackney Road"—he did not say what he was—he was taken before the Alderman and remanded—I was instructed to see him in the cells to get the names of the witnesses he wished to call—he said, "On August 19th I worked from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., dinner from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., played bagatelle with Arthur Bray from 2.30 p.m. to 4 o'clock; I also worked for Mr. Isaacs on. the 16th and 18th"—the men with him when he was identified were strangers who we got out of the street; we selected men as near the prisoner's appearance as possible; they varied from about 18 to 30.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was not in White Street on August 19th; that he knew nothing of the robbery; that on the 19th he was working for Mr. Isaacs at the King's Arms as assistant potman; that he went there at 9 a.m., started work at 11 a.m, and worked till 1 p.m. in the bar; from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m. he went to dinner upstairs, that he then helped to unload a van in the yard till about 2.45 p.m., then had a little rest, after which he went upstairs and played bagatelle with Arthur Bray till about 3.20 p.m.
Evidence for the Defence.
LEWIS ISAACS . I keep the King's Arms, Pritchard's Road, Hackney Road—I know the prisoner; he has worked on and of! for me doing odd jobs for three or four months—on August 19th he was working for me from about 11 a.m. as assistant potman—I went out at 11.30 a.m. and returned about 2.15 p.m.—he was still working on the premises—he then helped to unload a van for me—I can remember the 19th, because I bought some goods on the Thursday—the prisoner was in the house till midnight.
Cross-examined. I heard of his arrest on September 2nd—when the police asked me if he was working for me on August 19th, I said "Yes," because my books and catalogues show that I was at Boreham's buying furniture on that day, and I remember that the prisoner helped me the same day—I have a furniture business as well as the "public
house—I go to sales nearly every day—I was at a sale on August 18th—I bought furniture on the Tuesday and Thursday, and cleared it on the Friday—the furniture was brought to my house—I have a large place at the back of my house—the prisoner worked for me two or three days a week, but he was always about; he was there on the 18th, but I do not know what he was doing—on the 19th I told him to start work at 9 a.m.; I do not know if he did so—he was at work when I returned at 2.13, cleaning the fittings.
CHARLES HARVEY . I live at the King's Arms, Pritchard Road—I have known the prisoner for four or five months—at 11 a.m., on August 19th, I saw him in the bar—I had met with an accident the day before, so was at home—I saw him till 1 p.m., when I went to dinner till 2 o'clock—I saw the prisoner again then—he was in the bar from 12 to 1, cleaning windows—I do not know if he was away between 1 and 2.
Cross-examined. I do not work at the King's Arms—I lodge there and I have my meals there—I work at Atkins', Bethnal Green, at hammock making—I had my accident on the Thursday—I came down on Friday about 10.30 a.m.—the prisoner was then cleaning windows in the bar—I was in the bar most of the time till lunch time—I had my dinner in the King's Arms by myself in my own room—at two o'clock the prisoner had to start unloading a van; he was doing that till 4 o'clock—I did not go into the bagatelle room at all; I saw the prisoner at the King's Arms on the Saturday—I went back to work on the Monday—I saw the prisoner in the bar most of the Saturday—I did not see him doing any work.
ARTHUR BRAY . I live at 353, Hackney Road—I know the prisoner—at 11 a.m., on August 19th, I was in the King's Arms—the prisoner was in the bar—I stayed there till twelve—the prisoner was cleaning windows there—I left him there and went upstairs—I went out and returned at I—I went upstairs till 2 o'clock—I went down and saw the prisoner again—I went away again, and returned about 2.10—I returned and stayed in the bar for about five minutes, when I went upstairs—about 2.43 the prisoner came upstairs—I asked him to play at bagatelle; we played till about 3.13 or 3.20.
Cross-examined. The landlord told me on the 20th that a gentleman had been to ask if I had played bagatelle with the prisoner—I am sure it was on the 20th.
THOMAS PRANGLEY . I am potman at the King's Arms—I know the prisoner—on August 19th he was helping me in the bar all the morning from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.—I was in the bar from 12 to 1, and he was there the whole of that time—I saw him again at 7 p.m.—during the afternoon he was helping the governor with a moving job—he came to help on most days.
Cross-examined. Mr. Isaacs is a dealer—it is nothing unusual for the prisoner to help him unload vans—he always helps me on Fridays, because it is a very busy day—he is there every Friday—on the 19th he was cleaning glasses and windows—I had my dinner about 1 o'clock;
the prisoner had his with me—we took about half an hour over it—he did not do any work for me after dinner—I did not go upstairs to the billiard room.
Re-examined. I do not remember when the detective came to make inquiries.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 13th, 1904.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted:
WILLIAM GARFORTH . I keep the Willow Tree beer house, Balls Pond Road—on Wednesday, July 27th, between 8.30 and 8.45 p.m.', I served the prisoner with a small soda, price 2d., for which he tendered a counterfeit florin—I called attention to the fact that it was bad, and put acid on it, which turned it black—he looked at it, and said, "Oh, yes, that is bad, right enough," and asked me not to break it—he gave me a good 1s., and I gave him 10d. change—in consequence of what I afterwards saw I gave information to the landlord of the Railway Tavern, and went to the North London police station, where I picked the prisoner out from about a dozen men in a line in a large room leading off the yard—he was not then wearing glasses [The prisoner wore glasses in the dock.]
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I can swear to you being the man—the Railway Tavern is about 200 yards from the Willow Tree—I have been in my house six months—I told the landlord of the Railway Tavern that I had had a man in my house for a small soda who had tendered a bad 2s. piece and as the man called for that in his house he seemed to me to be the same person—I remembered you well when I picked you out—you were in my house three or four minutes—I remember a customer if he tries to pass a counterfeit coin—I have been a publican nearly all my life—I offered to assist the prosecution—I did not arrest you because I was alone.
Re-examined. I noticed the prisoner's voice—it is exactly the same now.
HENRY JOHN ARIS . I keep the Railway Tavern, Dalston, which is 250 to 300 yards from the Willow Tree—on July 27th, about 8.30 p.m., my wife and I served the prisoner with a small soda, price 2d.—he tendered a 2s. piece, which I saw was bad—I broke it and gave it him back—he tendered a good 1s., and I gave him 10d. change—when I had sent for a constable I asked him to let me have the 2s. back again to look at; he handed it back—I asked him if he knew where he got it; he said he took it in his wages—while I was looking at it he suddenly ran out of the house—I jumped the counter, ran and caught him, and asked him what he ran away for—he said he ran away because he was frightened—I brought him back—the constable arrived.
Cross-examined. I said I had taken two or three bad coins previously—the publican in the Balls Pond Road came to me and said a man had been to his place a few minutes before the same evening—he asked me what sort of a man had been to my house, and I described the man to him.
Re-examined. I did not lose sight of the prisoner from the time he put the coin down till he was handed over to the police.
WILLIAM KERSLAKE (178 J) I was called to the Railway Tavern on July 27th, where I saw the prisoner in the custody of the landlord—on searching him I found fid. in silver and 4d. bronze—the landlord said, "He tried to pass a counterfeit florin "he had it in his hand, and that when he said he would send for the police he ran away, and he ran after him—the prisoner said, "I ran away because I was afraid I was going to get into trouble."
Cross-examined. When I arrested you the landlord gave me the counterfeit florin.
The prisoner asked for the coin, and after looking at it said, "It is not my coin that I gave at the Railway Tavern."
The prisoner's statements before the magistrate: "I deny knowing Mr. Garforth. I did not go there. I do not know where Balls Pond Road is." And 'I could not say if the coin was bad. I did not know it was bad. If it was bad, I am sorry I went in with it."
The prisoner repeated this defence.
GUILTY .** Eighteen months' hard labour.
645. CHARLES EDWARD PENLEY (21), WILLIAM DAVIS (20); and CECIL JEROME (19) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £157 10s. with intent to defraud, and to stealing three banker's cheque forms the property of Edward Whittington Wilson. JEROME— Twelve months' hard labour; PENLEY and DAVIS— Fifteen months' hard labour each —
(646.) FREDERICK GOWANS (28) to burglary in the dwelling house of Frederick Harcourt Kitchin and stealing a coat, a hat, and other goods. Nine months' hard labour — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(648.) THOMAS CLEMENTS (19) and ARTHUR JONES (19) to stealing five sacks of potatoes and five sacks, the property of Thomas May, JONES* having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford on July 1st, 1903, in the name of Sidney Corville. Six months' hard labour each — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(649.) WILLIAM JOHN CORNEY (58) to wilful and corrupt perjury; also to having obtained goods to the amounts of £20 and upwards from Edwin Harry Johnson, without informing him that he was an undischarged bankrupt.
He received a good character. Six months' imprisonment for the perjury and three months' imprisonment for the charge of not disclosing his bankruptcy, to run concurrently. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 14th, 1904.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. ELLIOTT and MR. FITCH Defended.
MATILDA GLADDEN . I am the wife of Charles Gladden, of 3, "E" block Peabody Buildings; the prisoner also lived in that building—I have known her for eleven years—she had a girl named Ellen Frances, about 4 1/2 years old, another named Mary, aged 3 1/2 years, and a boy, Henry, about a year old—on Wednesday, August 24th, I saw the prisoner between 11 and 12 a.m. at her door—her eldest child was sitting on the door step by her—I did not see the prisoner again until she was in custody—I was in my rooms all that afternoon—I heard nothing which attracted my attention—in the evening I saw her husband; he is a horse-keeper, and had been at work all day—I saw very little of him, but the prisoner always spoke well of him—about 8.48 that night he took me to his rooms—I found there was no fire or preparations for a meal—the gas had been lit—he took me into the bed room—I saw a bath there and a pail both of them with water in them—I saw Henry in the bath, his head under the water and his legs hanging over the side—Ellen was in the pail—the other girl was also in the bath—I fetched the police—the children appeared to be dead—next day I was at the police station when the police heard that the prisoner was at Hampton, and I went there by train—I saw the prisoner there, and I accompanied her back to London—in the train she asked how the children were, and said they were hungry, and asked me to get them something to eat, and who was minding them—I told her they were all right, as I had been cautioned not to speak of their deaths—she gave me 4s. to get them something to eat—I noticed that she had not got her wedding ring on—she said she did not know where it was—she was a thorough good woman, a good wife, and a good mother, and always kind to them.
Cross-examined. In the train she seemed drowsy, and did not appear to realize anything—she evidently did not think the children were dead.
MAIMY THOMAS . I am the wise of William John Thomas—I have known the prisoner for about six months—on August 24th I saw her from 1 to 1.15—I was at my door at 3, Abel Street, which is opposite Peabody Buildings—she was dressed for walking—she had the smaller of her two girls with her—she asked how my baby was—I asked her where she was going—she said she was going for a bit of a walk—she went straight up the street towards Blackfriar's Bridge—I did not see anything peculiar about her—she seemed to be in a hurry.
Cross-examined. I have always found her a kind and affectionate mother, and a well-behaved woman.
room there I saw the bodies of three children lying on the floor—I do not know if Mrs. (Gladden was there; several people were present—the children's hair and faces were wet: they were all dead—the cause of death was asphyxia from drowning in each case—there were bruises on the leps and across the abdomen of one child, probably from pressure on the bath—the two younger children were strong and healthy, the eldest had a spine instrument and a diseased spine—apart from that she was healthy: they were all clean—I think they had been dead not less than five hours—next day I saw the prisoner at the police-station about 5.30 p.m.—I questioned her as to where she had been—she appeared to know nothing, and said, "My mind is a blank, I have no knowledge of where I have been; I remember nothing outside the police station; I know I am in a police station, but I know nothing else"—I asked her name; she said her name was Martin but she did not know her Christian name—she said she had some little children, but she did not remember their names—I advised she should be sent to the infirmary.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is pregnant—she seemed very depressed, and did not seem to realise her position; she said, "I cannot make out why I am here"—I thought she was suffering from mental trouble.
FREDERICK HART (46 T.) About mid-day on Thursday, August 25th, I saw the prisoner in Hampton Court Road—she appeared dazed and lost—I asked her where she had come from, where she lived, and where she had slept the previous night; she said, "I don't know"—I asked her if she knew where she was, and she said she did not—I mentioned all the surrounding towns, but it did not help her—I took her to the station—I noticed she had some silver in her hands—I communicated with the London police and an officer came down and saw her.
Cross-examined. In all her replies she seemed to be quite sincere.
FRANK KNELL (Inspector L.) On August 25th, about 3 p.m., I found the prisoner detained at the Hampton police station—I asked her her name and address; she could not remember it—I told her what it was and she simply laughed—she did not understand in the least—I took her to Kennington police station, where she was charged with the wilful murder of her three children—I cautioned her in the usual form and she laughed again—when the charge was read over she said, "Me? I never murdered my children, they are alive now."
Cross-examined. On the journey I occasionally noticed signs of grief and remorse—when she was charged she treated the whole thins as ridiculous—it was quite apparent she did not know what she was doing.
SARAH FORRESTER . I am a wardress at Holloway Prison—I was on duty in the observation ward from about August 25th until September 3rd—the prisoner was under my observation—she seemed dazed, and did not seem to realize her surroundings—during the night of September 3rd a window was broken by another female prisoner—I did not see the prisoner again till Monday, the 5th, when she seemed to be better—in the afternoon she said, "I can remember things better now."
Cross-examined. As far as circumstances connected with this charge
was concerned her mind still remained a blank—she told me of the window being broken, and that seemed to bring her memory back.
CHARLES COX (102 L.) I was called by Mrs. Gladden to this flat on the evening of August 24th—I saw the children as they lay in the bath and the pail—I also saw the prisoner's husband, who handed me this document—(Read) "I am broken hearted. He came home drunk and kicked and knocked me about, and kicked my dear Nellie and Sissie. I cannot stand that, now he drinks I am better dead, for he said most cruel things to me this morning, and I do my best. God forgive me, I cannot see my children knocked about by him. Good-bye all. I was happy when he did not drink. My spirits are broken. My darlings died like lambs. Bury them with me. I cannot face him coming home to-night. I do not want him to follow us to the grave. We could be so happy but the drink."
Evidence for the Defence.
HARRY PERCIVAL FULLERTON . I am deputy medical officer at Holloway Prison—the prisoner has been under my supervision since August 26th—shortly after her admission I examined her—she was in an exhausted and melancholic condition and suffering from a complete loss of memory of events up to August 25th—she had a bruise behind her left ear and a small one on her left wrist—both appeared to be recent—events which happened on and after August 25th she remembered imperfectly—prior to that her mind was a blank—during the first six days she improved slightly—up to September 3rd there was very little change in her mental condition—on that date she began to realize her position and what she was charged with—I again visited her on the 4th—she told me her memory had returned suddenly during the night; she said she had had a shock—she said she remembered having given her children their breakfast, but after that nothing, until she was arrested at Hampton—in the course of my interview I found that she had an injury to her head caused by a fall some 17 years before; she said she was rendered unconscious by the fall, and that sometime prior to August 24th she had had attacks of giddiness and singing in her ears, chiefly in her left ear; in each case the attacks had been followed by great depression and feeling as though she must injure herself and others—she also said that during the last four months she had noticed on several occasions a temporary lapse of memory, that she had gone out on an errand and had forgotten what she had gone out for, and had gone home and done nothing—she told me that since her last confinement, 12 months previously, she had had periods of depression, and that such periods had been followed by complications; she said she had a swelling of her leg which was probably from sceptic poisoning following the confinement—she told me she knew she was in a condition of pregnancy—in my opinion she did
not know the nature and quality of the act with which she is charged owing to the disease she was suffering from, namely, minor epilepsy—that is frequently followed by periods when people do things of which they are unconscious, and of which they have no recollection; the reason would be defective by reason of the disease of the mind for the time being—I think further attacks are probable, in fact, she has had a slight attack since, followed by great depression—that was on September 7th—in my judgment she will require care and supervision.
GUILTY, but insane at the time and not responsible for her actions. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. J. P. GRAIN and MR. PETER GRAIN Defended. The evidence was interpreted when necessary.
WILLIAM LEE . I am a tailor of 14, Charlton Street, Marylebone—the deceased was my son; he was twenty-two years old, and employed up to the time of his death as a super at the Hippodrome—on July "31st I saw him lying dead at Charing Cross Hospital—he had been living with me: on the Saturday morning I saw him for the last time in perfect health.
MAUD REBECCA DEARDEN . I am single and live at 23, Greek Street, with my parents—a man named Hopkins has lodged with us for about twelve months—on Saturday, July 30th, I went to bed about 11.30 p.m.—after that I heard the street door being forced open—I got up and stood at the door and called out, "Who is there"—I heard some singing and went down stairs; my little sister followed me—when I got to the passage I found the door open, and Devanny, Lynch, Langley and Morecambe there—I knew Devanny and Lynch, but not the others—I knew the deceased, but I have never spoken to him—he was not there then—the men seemed to be joking, laughing, and singing—I asked them where they were going; they said they were going upstairs; I said, "You are not going up there"—they said they were, and tried to push past me—Devanny got hold of me; I pushed him out of the door and he got hold of my night dress; the others were on the pavement—Devanny tried to pull me out into the street—my sister got hold of me to pull me in—my sleeve was torn—I pushed Devanny out and tried to bolt the door, but before I could do so he pushed it open again—I tried to push him out again, then I saw the prisoner and Devanny fighting—the prisoner took my part—I did not know him before—he and Devanny were lighting in the road—
the other men were there—I heard a woman say, "Don't two him"—I did not see any other men fighting, because there was such a crowd—I went upstairs and looked out of the window—they were fighting in the road for about fifteen minutes—I should think Devanny was intoxicated.
Cross-examined. There is a lamp at the shop door; there was a good light there—I did not see a knife at all—the deceased I knew as Devanny's companion.
EDWARD THOMAS DEVANNY . I used to live at 56, New Compton Street; I now live at i, Pearman Street, Westminster—I was a super at the Hippodrome; I am now out of employment—I shall be 27 next November—the deceased was my brother-in-law—I left the Hippodrome on July 30th at 11.30 p.m.; we met some friends named Hopkins, Lynch, Langley, and Gale—we all went to Hopkins's lodgings at 23, Greek Street, Soho—we rang the bell, but did nothing more in order to get in—Miss Dearden came down—I asked her for Hopkins; she said he was not in—I said he was, because I had seen him go upstairs about a minute before—I had a slight dispute with her; she tried to stop me from going upstairs—I did not come in contact with anybody outside the house then; I did not knock up against anybody—I did not see the prisoner tillhe struck me—I was standing talking to Miss "Dearden at the door when the prisoner came up and said something to me which I did not understand, and then struck me in the face—I had never seen him before—when he hit me I hit him back; we were on the pavement—we then went into the roadway and had a fight for a little over a minute; Langley and Lynch advised me to stop fighting, which I did—I do not know where the deceased was while we were fighting, I know he was in the company, but I do not know where he was standing—I saw him outside the house as I was endeavouring to make my way in—after the fight I walked with my two friends up Greek Street—after we had gone about eighty yards I said I was going home, and I went back; that was my way home—I, Lynch and Langley walked together—we got to the corner of Compton Street—I know Reddan's shop at the corner; I saw the prisoner standing there, he made towards me as if to strike me—when he got close to me he struck me; I guarded the blow and hit him back—I then slipped to the ground; the prisoner was on top of me; the deceased came and picked me up—I do not know what became of him after that; I did not see him again until I went to the hospital—he was quite close to the prisoner when he picked me up; he was trying to separate us—the prisoner ran away and I ran after him; he ran across Compton Street to Barnes's shop in Greek Street—my. two friends were close behind me—I got up to the prisoner and struck him with my fist two or three times, not more—he retaliated—my friends got me away and said, "Don't be foolish come away"—prisoner ran away—I was not inclined to follow my friends—we went down Compton Street to Charing Cross Road—there is a refuge in Charing Cross Road; as we were approaching it I found my thumb had been sprained, and I asked Langley to help me pull it back—there was
blood all over my hand; my attention was then called to some blood on my trousers—up to that time I did not know that I had been stabbed—a cab was called, and we all wont to Charing Cross Hospital, where my injuries were attended to—I found that I had a stab on my left groin and one on my right buttock: the cuts are in my clothes now—I was not detained in the hospital, but I attended for some time as an out-patient—I saw the deceased there.
Cross-examined. I have gone under the name of Davis when I was in a bit of trouble for stealing a purse—I was convicted of stealing a purse at Manchester in that name; also in February, 1896, at the North London Sessions for stealing a watch, when I had eight months' hard labour—I was again convicted on March 16th. 1897, at the same Sessions, for stealing a watch and chain, and had twelve months—I gave the name of Devanny then—I was again convicted in June, 1899, at Marlborough Street for an attempt to steal from the person—on November '21, 1900, I had twelve months at Marlborough Street under the Prevention of Crimes Act—on November 5th, 1901, at the North London Sessions, I had twelve months for assualting the police in the name of Davis—I was sober on July '"30th—I had had three drinks—I did not first assault the prisoner—I swear that I did not begin the assault—Lynch is a friend of mine—I was with him on this night—I did not spar first, and put my arms up to the prisoner—I did not see a knife, or anything resembling one, from the beginning to the end—it was not until my companions drew my attention to the blood that I knew I was stabbed—I said, "It cannot be mine: it must have been the man who was fighting"—I never heard anybody call out, "Don't two him"—the prisoner attacked me. except the third time, when I ran after him—I did not say, "Here he is, "and then go towards him—I said, "Here he is," but he made towards me.
By the COURT. I did not see the deceased strike the prisoner.
ARTHUR CHARLES LANGLEY . I am a labourer of 1, White Lion Lane—on July. "30th I lived at 36, Dean Street—on that night I was out with the deceased, Devanny and Lynch-we all went to the outside of Dearden's shop—I saw the deceased there, while Devanny was trying to force his way into the shop—I saw the fight in the centre of the road between Devanny and the prisoner—the prisoner began it—he walked across the road and struck Devauny—the fight lasted three or four minutes—nobody took part in it except the prisoner and Devanny—they both left off together, and I, Devanny, the deceased, and Langley, went up the street for ten or fifteen yards—we turned round and went back. again towards Compton Street. because it was our way home—when we got to the corner we saw the prisoner and eight or nine other people—Devanny and the prisoner seemed to recognise each other—the prisoner seemed to be about to strike Devanny, so he hit the prisoner—they started fighting, and Devanny slipped and fell; the prisoner did not fall—the deceased went to pick Devanny up—the prisoner stooped over Devanny a little—he and the deceased seemed to be in the same position—I did not see the prisoner do anything to the deceased—Devanny picked himself up; the prisoner walked away sharply
—I next saw the deceased when I went to the hospital with Devanny—after the prisoner walked, away Devanny went after him, and said something about "I will give you something," and went to strike him—the prisoner went like that, and then the police came—I think Devanny struck the prisoner in the face once—the prisoner was striking at Devanny at the same time back ways with his fist—I saw nothing in the prisoner's hands—when the police were said to be coming the prisoner walked towards Charing Cross Road or Greek Street—I went down Compton Street with Lynch—about ten minutes afterwards I found that Devanny had been stabbed, and I took him to the hospital—the prisoner did not fall to the ground.
Cross-examined. I was 32 last birthday—I am a miner's labourer—in 1889 I had three months for stealing, and three months in May, 1890, for stealing cigars us Arthur Stevens; I was again convicted at the North London Sessions on August 24th, 1891, for stealing clothes; on January 4th, 1892, twelve mouths for being in possession of house breaking instruments; eighteen months in 1893 for attempted burglary; December 17th, 1891, three years penal servitude and two years police supervision for stealing rings; two months on January 18th, 1898; at Bow Street for assaulting the police; April 19th, 1898, North London Sessions, six months for stealing; March, 2th, 1899, North London, twelve months for failing to report, and on February 15th. 1901, I was acquitted of house breaking—since my last conviction I have been working for my living—I heard the cry of "Don't two him"—there was nobody there but the prisoner and Devanny.
Re-examined. For the last four or five years I have been in honest employment.
EDWARD LYNCH . I am a tailor of 60, Old Compton Street—I was out with the deceased, Dcvanny, Langley, and Hopkins on July. 30th—I was at 23, Greek Street, when Devanny tried to make his way into the house, and when Miss Dearden succeeded in getting him out—it was about then that the prisoner came on the scene—I saw no blows between him and Devanny on the pavement—I saw Devanny stumble from the door step, and in doing so he stumbled against the prisoner, who said something which I did not understand" and stepped into the road-way—they had a fight alone in the road; it lasted about two minutes at the most—they were separated—the prisoner went his way, and Devanny and I went up Greek Street; we returned to go home—we passed the prisoner; he and Devanny recognised each other—Devanny said, "Here he is," and made towards him as if the fight was going to commence again—he slipped and fell backwards—the deceased appeared on the scene and looked as if he was going to pick Devanny up—the prisoner was in a stooping position over Devanny—I see no actual blows struck, because the deceased hid my view: he was also stooping over Devanny—I saw no more of the deceased—I did not see him go away—the prisoner rushed across the road—Devanny got off the ground and went after him—I did not see the prisoner on the ground—Devanny overtook him and struck him once or more in the face—I cannot say if it was
near his eye—I do not think the prisoner had a hat on—there was a cry of police; the prisoner went away in one direction and I and my party went towards Charing Cross Road—we discovered that Devanny was wounded, and I went with him to the hospital.
Cross-examined. There was a considerable crowd—I cannot say if there were any foreigners there—the place was fairly well lighted—I saw no knife or instrument at all—I saw no kicking—Devanny stepped towards the prisoner—I and my friends tried to get him away in case he might be locked up—I had had a drink or two; I do not known about the others.
By the COURT. Before the second fight, the prisoner was standing with one or two other people.
FREDERICK HARRY HOPKINS . I live at 23, Greek Street. Soho, and am a super at the Hippodrome—upon this night I went home to my lodgings—while I was upstairs in my room I heard a commotion going on down stairs—I looked out of the window and see the deceased and Devanny and one or two others outside, then I see the prisoner come round the corner—Miss Dearden was at the door—they were all talking together—then I saw the prisoner and Devanny fighting in the road-way for about a minute—they got on to the pavement and then separated—the prisoner went towards Compton Street, and the others a little way up Greek Street—then they returned—the prisoner was standing at the corner of Compton Street—he and Devanny seemed to recognise each other, and they started fighting—Devanny seemed to slip backwards, and the deceased stepped in between them—when Devanny fell the deceased was three or four yards from him—I saw Devanny get up, and the police came—I did not see any more of the deceased—the last time I remember seeing him was when he stepped in between Devanny and the prisoner—I thought he was trying to pick Devanny up—he was in a stooping position—I did not see him touch Devanny—the prisoner and Devanny went down Compton Street—I could not see any more from my window.
Cross-examined. The street is very well lighted at the corner—I saw no instrument or knife and no fighting by the deceased.
AMY RICHMOND . I live at 59. New Compton Street, and am the wife of Sidney Richmond—I was near Dearden's shop on the night of July 31st going home—I saw Devanny and the prisoner fighting—I knew Devanny very well by sight—I did not know the prisoner—Devanny slipped and fell backwards—I saw the deceased come out of the crowd and run towards them—he got up to them; they were all three together; he seemed to stoop forward—the prisoner then went away down Compton Street—only those three were engaged in the struggle—I do not know what became of the deceased—he was very tall.
Cross-examined. I made a statement which was taken down, and which I signed—in it I said: "After the deceased reached the foreigner, the deceased seemed to bend forward, and the foreigner immediately ran away down Wardour Street. When Devanny fell and deceased ran up, Edith Rose said,' One dog one bone, don't all hit the
man.' She said that before the deceased got up to Devanny. A man, who I think was Lynch, though I am not sure, replied to her,' They shall not use knives.'"
Re-examined. I do not know what made Lynch say that; they were only flatting—Devanny was on the ground, and the deceased was facing the prisoner.
By the COURT. When the deceased rushed out of the crowd nobody knew what he was going to do.
JOHN GORMAN . I am a cab driver, of 39, Upper Rathbone Place, Charlotte Street—I knew the deceased by sight—on the night of Saturday July 30, I was in the Shaftesbury Avenue with my cab—I saw a crowd near Reddan's shop; I went slowly towards it; I saw the deceased coming towards me along the pavement by himself; he made a statement to me, and in consequence I drove him to Charing Cross Hospital; he was taken charge of by the hospital porter—I could not see if he was bleeding or not.
ROSINA MARTIN . I am the wife of Samuel Martin, of 14, Arthur Street, Brompton—about two years ago I let a back room on the ground floor to the prisoner; he can only speak a little English—he occupied the room till Saturday night, July 30th; he had a latch key—on Friday morning, July 29th, he left the house about 8.15: he returned that night; I did not see him, but I knew by the bed that he had slept there—his room was immediately above the one where I and my hu band slept—on Saturday night we went to bed a little after twelve—about 12.45 I heard somebody come into the house and go into the prisoner's room—I went into his room about 8.30 next morning; the door was shut, but the room was empty—the bed was dirty as if somebody with muddy clothes had been lying on it; somebody had been sick on the floor—I next saw the prisoner in custody on August 2nd—there was a chest of drawers in his room, and about the middle of July, I found this bone handled clasp knife (Produced) in one of the drawers; it was closed as it is now—Sergeant Mercer called on August 1st and went, into the prisoner's room; in the chest of drawers he found this knife and took it away with him—I did not notice if it was lying under anything in the drawer.
Cross-examined. The drawers were not locked—when I saw it it was not covered up with anything; I did not see the Sergeant find it—as far as I know the prisoner was a quiet, peaceable, and regular man, paying his rent in a regular way—I knew he was employed at different places—I saw the knife several times before the police took possession of it—as far as I knew it was always practically in the same position in the drawer—apparently the prisoner did not use it.
HENRY EPPS . I occupy a back room at 2, Little Denmark Street, Soho—on Sunday morning, July 31st, about 8 o'clock, I called at the front room on the third floor occupied by Edith Martin—I went there by arrangement with her to take a letter—I saw her in bed with the prisoner—I had some conversation with her—the prisoner spoke, but 1 could not understand what he said—he had a black eye—I went to the police in consequence of what I heard.
am a kitchen porter at the French Club. Lisle Street—the prisoner worked with me in the club kitchen—on Saturday. July 30th he left the club with me about 11 p.m.—we met the chef in Compton Street—ho asked us to go and have a drink; we wont to the Swiss Hotel and separated eventually at the corner of Frith Street. Soho, at 11.30 next morning at 8.30 I saw the prisoner outside the club! noticed that he had a black eye and was wearing different had to the one he had on the night before—when I saw his black eye. I laughed and said, "Who gave you that?"—he only smiled—we went into the kin-hen and I said again, "Who give you that?"—he said he had been lighting with some men—I said. '"Who are they?" he said "Englishmen," and shrugged his shoulders—first ho said there were six, then he said ten; he did not say then where ho had met them—I said something about his hat being a different one—he said he went home and fetched another one as he had lost the first one or something of that kind—that day he worked as usual at the club till 10 o'clock—he was arrested on the Monday—on the Sunday he went away before his time—this (Produced) is his waistcoat; ho wore it on the night before he was arrested.
Cross-examined. He was a servant at the club before I was—I never saw him carrying a knife—I had always found him a quiet and reserved man, and a gentleman.
By the COURT. I am a Belgian—he prisoner says he is an Italian—I never knew where he lived—he is not a Frenchman.
ARTHUR CLARKE (Sergeant.) in consequence of information from Charing Cross Hospital, I went with other officers and Hopkins to the French club in Lisle Street on August 1st; Hopkins pointed the prisoner out and I arrested him—at the police station I said in English, "You will be charged with stabbing two men in the stomach in Old Compton Street on the night of the 30th, one of whom has since died' 1—he said, "Mo fight; me no knife"—I sent for Mr. Fahrnin, the interpreter, who told the prisoner the charge, and interpreted the prisoner's answer—he said. "No, I have not killed the man. I have no knives. I only used my hands. There were ten on top of me; I saw they were English, and ran away. I saw some Englishmen knocking a woman about and went and spoke to them about it, when one man struck me in the eye and another in the hip. I then ran home at once, after falling down twice. I do not know even the neighbourhood. I go to work at nine in the morning and go home at eleven at night"—that was in reference to the charge of wounding the deceased—in the sime way the charge of wounding Devanny was repeated—I took down his answer; he said. "How can I do it? I never had a knife, and I never carry a knife"—I searched him and found no weapon upon him—he gave his correct name and address—the same day I went to 14, Arthur Street, and saw Mrs. Martin—she pointed out a chest of drawers, and Sergeant Mercer took possession of this knife.
the cells, and I told him what ho would be charged with—I do not speak French—he said, "Mc fight," and made a motion as though he had been engaged in a fight—his head was swollen—he appeared to be very queer—I sent for the divisional surgeon, who examined him—he was then placed among ten other men, and was picked out by the witnesses who wore present at the fight.
JOHN CURRY (Sergeant C.) I saw the prisoner on August 1st at Vine Street—I read the charge to him in French, and he said, "I left at 11 o'clock, and then went for a walk and saw some men quarrelling and strike a woman. I spoke to the men who did not understand me, and one struck me a blow on the face, then another one came and struck me on the head. Then there were six of them, and I tried to go away; then another one struck me on the back of the head. I had no knife, only my hands, and every one can see that. I had no instrument. I ran away because I found there were too many for me. Is one dead?"—I said "Yes," and he said, "I do not know anything."
Cross-examined. I understood that his last expression referred to the deceased.
GODFREY FAHRNIN . I am an interpreter at the Marlborough Street Police Court, and live at 33, Marlborough Street—on August 1st I was called to Vine Street Police Station, and Clarke told me the charge against the prisoner, which I translated to him.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said he had no knife at the time, and never carried one.
ALEXANDER MITCHELL . I am divisional surgeon at the Vine Street Police Station—on Monday, August 1st, about 5.30 p.m., I saw the prisoner there; he was suffering from a bruise on the front of his forehead, just above his nose, an extensive one on his right jaw; he had a bruise on the outer side of his left leg, just below his knee, and another on the. back of his head: he was very depressed, and was crying and clasping his hands—I saw him again at 8.30; he was very excited—he had tried to strangle himself with his coat sleeve; the marks were on him—in my presence he struck his head again the wall—I had him kept under strict observation after that.
Cross-examined. He was very badly mauled—the bruise on his leg might have been the result of kicking—he had been vomitting, which might have been the result of shock, or being struck in the stomach.
PHILLIP REES . I am house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—about 12.45 a.m. on Sunday, August. "1st, the deceased was brought to the hospital in a cab—he was in a state of slight collapse—I examined him; on taking his trousers off, which were bloody, I found a wound in the lower part of his abdomen, on the right side, caused by an instrument with a sharp cutting edge—it was about 1 in. long, going inwards and downwards—I sewed it up; he was put to bed—a little later I saw him again, and he seemed much the same—about 9 a.m. he was in a state of very marked collapse; a surgeon was asked to come, and an operation was found to be necessary—the operation revealed two punctured wounds in the wall of the intestine, in the region of the
wound which I have mentioned, and there were wounds in the blood vessels in three places—after the operation he recovered consciousness and again had a serious relapse—I told him he was very likely to die; in my opinion he knew he was not likely to recover—I said. "Do you know you are likely to die?"—he said, "Yes"—that was at 1.30, twenty-five minutes before he died—I asked him if he would like to make a statement—I took down what he said, which was, "I want to see my father and sister. I was stabbed in Old Compton Street by a short stout dark man, with a moustache; I think he was an Italian I did not begin the quarrel"—after his death, which took place at l.55, a post mortem examination was held by Dr. Freyberger—I was present part of the time—death was caused by the wound, loss of blood, and shock; considerable force must have been used to inflict the wound—shortly after his admission, Devanny was brought in suffering from two punctured wounds, one about 1 in. deep and 1 in. long on his right buttock, and the other in the lower part of his abdomen; that was superficial; he was attended to, and allowed to leave that morning; he was an out-patient for some days.
By the JURY. The operation on the deceased was to stitch up the holes in the gut—we had to cut in to get at the gut—the operation lasted about one and half hours.
GEORGE MERCER . On August 1st, I went to the prisoner's room and searched a chest of drawers—I found this knife—it had stains of blood upon it—on August—4th, I gave the Knife to Dr. Freyberger in the condition I found it—this waistcoat was found in the room and was also handed to Dr. Freyberger there are blood stains inside it.
Cross-examined. The knife was not covered up—the drawer was closed but not locked.
LUDWIG FREYBERGER , M.R.C.P., M.R.C.S. I practice at 41, "Restent's Park Road—I made a post mortem examination on the deceased, on August 1st—I agree with Dr. Rees as to the condition—this knife was handed to me—its longer blade would produce the wound which I found on the deceased—on the blade I observed recent scratches on both sides which indicated the knife had been cleaned by rubbing it on a stone; besides the scratches, in three places on the long blade, and in one place on the smaller blade, I found reddish-brown films, which were firmly adhered to the steel—I also found in the space left for the point of the blade some black fluff, rubbed the lining of a pocket, and some tobacco leaves—I came to the conlusion that the films had been occasioned by mammal blood—Re-examined it under a microscope—in the thumb mark, used for opening the knife, I found a little reddish-brown lump, which on examination appeared to be composed of blood cells and also very large cells such as form the covering of the skin; I should say where the skin is tender—I think it was the skin of a human, they were human epithelium cells—I had the deceased's clothes given me for examination—I have measured the size of the penetrating holes—I think he was wearing a black serge jacket, waistcoat, trousers, woollen pants,
shirt, and woollen vest—the cut in the outside clothes fitted exactly the width of the knife, which is 1/2 m.; the other clothing did not fit so well because it expanded more—I examined Devanny's clothing—I think the cuts in his clothing may have been caused by the same instrument, although the clothes had been washed and the cuts stitched up—I examined the stains on the lining of the prisoner's waistcoat—I found on the left half a series of six reddish brown slightly glistening smears, which on microscopic and other examination appeared to have been caused by mammal blood—the scratches on the knife are subsequent to its receiving the stains.
Cross-examined. The blade of the knife had been cleaned from two-thirds downwards right to the point—I submitted the spots to the microscopical examination—at the present state of medical science it is impossible to say what animal the blood came from, only that it is the blood of a mammal—it is an ordinary knife—I cannot give a definite date as to when the spots on the knife were produced—I cannot pledge myself as to when the spots came upon the prisoner's waistcoat.
By the COURT. I saw something on the knife before I put it under the microscope.
ROSINA MARTIN (Re-examined by Mr. Grain.) This is the prisoner's waistcoat; I remember noticing it last Easter—the prisoner's nose had bled and I found blood on his pillow case and on this waistcoat—it had been torn and I mended it for him—I remember noticing the spots of blood inside it then.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had no knife on him on this night; that he was asking the men what they were doing; that all of a sudden a man struck him in his eye; that a number of men then set upon him; that he defended himself with his fists; that he did not know the deceased or Devanny; that he did not see the deceased come in between him and Devanny; that he (the prisoner) fell twice, and so got his clothes muddy.
GUILTY . Eight years' penal servitude. (See next case.)
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 14th, 1904.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
653. JOHN MCMILLIN (76) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously converting to his own use £100 and other sums belonging to Wilson Lupton and others. He received an excellent character. Twelve months' imprison ment in the Second Division —And
(654.) ALGERNON LUMLEY (37) , to having suborned William Meads to commit perjury, and having conspired with him to defeat the ends of justice; also to producing a book containing false entries at his trial; also to fabricating evidence, Meads having made false entries; and WILLIAM MEADS (42) , to the fabrication of the said evidence.
LUMLEY (See Fol. exl. part 838, p. 835)— One day's imprisonment.
MEADS— Six months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. SANDS Prosecuted; MR. FINCH Defended.
ROSINA WAUGH . I live at 177. Corporation Buildings, Farringdon Street—before August 2nd I was living there with the prisoner, who is my son and my daughter. Rosina Rice, who was separated from her husband—she was scarcely ever sober—on August 2nd she came in, having been out all night, the worse for drink, close upon I p.m., when I was preparing the dinner—the prisoner came in afterwards—we had dinner together—I was clearing the things off the table, and wont to the wash house when she asked me for money for beer—she became very violent and threatened me with a knife—I felt afraid—she put the knife down and went into the other room—I hid the knife—she came back again and called me dreadful names—I went to the prisoner and said, "What shall we do with this girl?"—he came out and said, "You ought to know better, calling your mother such names"—then she went for me again, and he pulled her by her arms and said, "Mother, go and fetch the police"—he held her by her arms as I went for my bonnet, and went out—when I came back he said, "Mother, go upstairs and see what you think of Rose; I am going for a doctor"—I went upstairs: my daughter was lying on the floor as if she had fallen in a lit, as I have seen her many times after drinking, a stupid lit. in which she will lie two or three hours, and then get up right as rain—a bed was in the room—a garden pot with a root in it and a vase were broken—the pot was under the bed—I touched her and said, "Rose, do wake up; "there was no answer, and I went for a doctor, leaving her and the room as I found them—I saw the doctor—the prisoner came back about 5 p.m. and found a policeman there.
Cross-examined. My daughter has been subject to epileptic fits since just before her marriage eight years ago—she had been in trouble with the police, and had been sentenced to terms of imprisonment for drunkenness—she broke her father-in-law's windows—she has been in prison twice for breaking windows—I had to summon her once for breaking windows at my place—I have asked the Magistrate for advice; he said, "Turn her out"; I said, 'She breaks the looks, then I have to pay "; he said, "Put a stronger lock, that is all I can do for you '—I was afraid of her—she never went longer than three weeks in quiet—for about a week each month she was excessively violent—I said to my sons, "Be careful," I could see the fits coming on: she would have two drinks and then begin—on August 2nd she had steak and potatoes for dinner just before the quarrel—immediately after dinner she demanded money for beer—she showed violence caught hold of me and tore the sleeve of my blouse right out—the prisoner has always been a good boy, and was fond of his sister when she was sober—he was never vindictive towards her. and they lent one another books—three weeks before this quarrel she came home late, knocked at door, and fell on the landing—I said, "I cannot go to bed." and shut the door—she lay in the passage and pulled the cloth and things on top of
her and went straight to bed—on August 2nd the weather was exceptionally hot—both my sons have had to protect me from the deceased's violence several times.
ALBERT POWELL (373 E.) I live next door to the Waughs—I was taken there on duty by Sergeant Long on August 2nd about 5.15 p.m.—I saw the deceased lying on the bed—I left her in charge of the Sergeant—about (') o'clock the prisoner came in: Mrs. Waugh said, "Toll this young man about this affair"—the prisoner said. "I strangled her; we were struggling for half an hour; she threatened to set fire to my bed to-night; I thought about giving myself up to the police, only the sun was shining, it was such a fine day"—I took him to the station and handed him over to Inspector Daniel.
Cross-examined. I have seen the deceased occasionally—she was very intemperate—the prisoner is respectable and quiet—the room was tidy; the prisouer appeared composed and calm.
JOSEPH DANIEL (Inspector E.) At 6.20, on August 2nd, the prisoner was handed over by Powell to my charge—I said, "I think you wish to say something about the death of your sister; if so I will write it down and it may be used in evidence "; he replied, "I wish to give myself up for strangling my sister"—I wrote the statement, read it to him, and he signed it—he was sober and spoke rationally—spots of blod were on the cuffs of both sleeves of his shirt—I said. "These are blood stains?"—he said, "Yes, they came from my mouth; it has been bleeding"—the right sleeve of his shirt was torn—I saw black marks on the deceased's throat.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries—everyone speaks well of the prisoner as a respectable sober young fellow.
HOWARD JOHN GEOGHEGAN . I am a registered medical practitioner at 8, Doughty Street—I have known this family some years, and the daughter as an intemperate young woman—I was called to the house about 4 p.m. on August 2nd—I found the deceased lying on her back on the floor with her head towards the window, fully dressed, dead, and quite warm—on examining her I found a bruise on the right side of her neck—the room was in disorder—two vases were lying on the bed, and a palm had been rooted out of a pot and the earth was hanging about it—the palm was about 3 ft. high—the next day I examined the deceased with Dr. Connor—there was nothing to cause death externally—there was another bruise on the other side of her neck in a similar position to the other, but further back—that had come out since I saw her last—she had a slightly black eye. but that was old—the only symptoms connected with death were the marks on her neck—the cause of death was strangulation caused by external pressure and interference with the entrance to the lungs—the marks on her neck would explain such pressure—I saw the bruise on her right side caused by a right hand thumb, and an abrasion caused by a nail—the mark that came out afterwards was probably caused by the lingers.
Cross-examined. I think there was only one hand on the throat—there
was a broken flower pot in the room—the palm would not cause the injury, it was not heavy—the deceased's liver was enlarged caused by excessive drinking—the weather was exceedingly hot—the woman's stomach was loaded with food—the hot weather to a person who had been drinking would conduce to a fit, but not to epilepsy—if the glottis closed that would have caused suffocation—supposing she had violently attacked the prisoner and he got her by the throat, not having used sufficient force to strangle her, a fit coining on, a hot day, and the stomach being full of food, death might possibly happen.
Re-examined. I think that it was hardly likely that the prisoner could have strangled her in an upright position without two hands—I only found the marks of one hand.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted. (The evidence was interpreted.)
LEOPOLD GAUDION , I live at 31, Castle Street, Oxford Street, and am a kitchen porter—about 4.30 p.m., on August 1st, I was at Lorenzo's restaurant, 44, Greek Street, Soho—I saw the prisoner and Lorenzo righting and separated them—I knew Lorenzo—I went there for my meals—the prisoner was going to throw a sugar basin at Lorenzo's head: I prevented him—the prisoner ran out and I ran after him—he hit at me and missed me—I hit at him and missed him—he ran about 10 yards and then drew a revolver from his right pocket and I ran away—he had his arm straight out with the revolver and fired—he pointed it a second time in my direction—I heard the shot and ran away—I saw the prisoner stopped—I saw the revolver in the police court.
JUAN LORENZO . I am a restaurant keeper at 44, Greek Street. Soho—about 4 p.m., on August 1st, the prisoner came into my restaurant and asked for a loan of money—I said, "I give to eat, but I do not give money"—he started kicking up a row—I was sitting at a table with my wife, and he came and hit me in the face—my wife began screaming and some customers took the prisoner out—Gaudion came to my assistance with another one and made him go out—he took him by the shoulder—afterwards they bought outside—I heard them give each other blows with the fist—soon afterwards I heard a shot—then I went out and saw the prisoner running towards Soho Square among many persons, and he disappeared—he had his hand in his pocket—I saw him arrested, and the revolver taken from him.
GEORGE KELLY . I am a deck boy—I recollect about 4 p.m., on August 1st, being in Greek Street, Soho—I heard a bang of a pistol or something—I turned the corner and saw the prisoner with a pistol in his hand; then some one blew a whistle, some one started to run, and two or three men got the prisoner round the neck—he had his hand in his right hand pocket and a revolver sticking ont—I ran across the
road and took the revolver out of his pocket—I afterwards gave it to a policeman.
TOM MAYARD (152 C.) I heard a police whistle in Greek Street, Soho, on the afternoon of August 1st—I went in that direction and saw that three or four men had the prisoner on the ground—I asked what was the matter and was told a man had been shot by a revolver—I asked where the revolver was, and Kelly gave it to me, and said, "I took it out of his hand."
JOHN CURREY (Sergeant C.) I saw the prisoner arrested in Greek Street, Soho—he was taken to the station—this revolver was handed to me; I examined it—four out of five chambers were loaded with cartridce; the fifth had been recently fired.
GODFREY FAHRNIN . I am an interpreter at Marlborough Street Police Station—on August 1st I told the prisoner in Italian the charge of attempting to shoot a man in Greek Street, Soho—he said, "I was afraid, I did not intend to kill."
The prisoners defence: I cannot say anything; I do not know.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, September 14th, 1904.
Before Mr. Recorder.
658. GEORGE ANDERSON** (33) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously stealing thirty-five dozen handkerchiefs, the property of the Globe Express Company, Limited, having been convicted of felony at this Court on December llth, 1899, in the name of Henry Brown. Five 'other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. —
(659.) ALEXANDER CHAMBERY** (19) and ALFRED WILSON** (18) , to a burglary in the dwelling house of John Collingridge and stealing two pairs of boots, his property; also to breaking and entering the warehouse of the Corticine Floor Covering Company, limited. and stealing a rubber stamp, their property, a cigarette case, one pair of spectacles and 12s., the property of Frank Austin Vandernbergh, both having been convicted of felony at this Court on November 16th, 1903. Several other convictions were proved against them. Twelve months' hard labour each. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(660.) THOMAS QUINLAN** (39) , to stealing a purse and 9s. 6d., the property of Thomas Edward Geen, from the person of Sarah Geen , having been convicted of felony at South London Sessions on May 14th, 1895, as Thomas Quinlan, otherwise William Holt. A large number of convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(661) ARTHUR HARLEY (37) to stealing a diamond and sapphire pendant, the property of Elkington and Co., Ltd. One previous conviction was proved against him. Six months in the Second Division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Sessions on November 7th 1899. Two other conrictions were proud, against him. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(664) GEORGE MEAD (29) to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Maria Gay the sum of 4s., from John Levett 5s., and attempting to obtain 2s. from Alice Burton by false pretences, with intent to defraud, having been convicted of obtaining goods by false pretences at this Court on June 22nd 19 as George Smith. It was stated that there were a large number of conrictions against him for similar offences. Twenty months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
665. LEO STEINBERGER (38) , to burglary in the house of Henry Rosenbaum and stealing 47 forks and other articles, his property, having been convicted of felony at the Quarter Sessions at Dublin on October 15th, 1903, as Leopold Frank Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(666) HERBERT REED (44) , to Stealing a dressing case and other articles, the property of Louis Viutton, hi master; also to stealing a dressing bag and other articles, the property of Louis Viutton; also to stealing a case of razors and other articles, the property of Louis Viutton, his master; also to forging and uttering an endorsement on an order for the payment of £65 17s. (id. with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a receipt for the sum of £65 17s. 6d. with intent to defraud. Judgment respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ARMSTRONG Prosecuted.
The prisoner stated that he teas guilty of unlawful wounding, and 'he Jury found that verdict. Six months' hard labour.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
The prisoner stated that he was guilty, and the Jury found that rerdict. Nine months' hard labour.
MR. ABINGER Prosecuted and MR. PETER GRAIN Defended.
LUCY MASON . I am the daughter of John Wallace Mason, the landlord of the Plough and Harrow. Harmsworth—on August 12th, I served the prisoners with refreshment—I then left the bar and went into the back, kitchen—one can get from the outside of the bar to the inside by lifting a flap and putting the hand over—the till is kept near the kitchen door—I heard some money rattle in the china basin in the till and ran up, and saw the male prisoner coming from behind the bar—the flap was down, but the door of the counter was open—I called my mother saying, "The man is at your money"—my mother came up—the male
prisoner said. "Do you accuse me of stealing your money"—I went to send my brother for the police.
Cross-examined. There was nobody else in the bar when I left—the male prisoner had previously called another man in the bar to have a drink, but when the money was taken the other man was outside—the male prisoner was not stooping down tying his wife's shoe lace—I saw his heels through the door.
LUCY MASON . I am the wife of the licensee of the Plough and Harrow, Harmsworth—on August 12th, about 10.30 a.m., I examined the till—there was then about £3 15s. in it, nearly all in small silver—about 11 a.m. I heard my daughter call out; I ran into the bar, and went to the till—there was £1 5s. left in the till—I said to the male prisoner. "You have taken my money"—he replied, "Taken your money? it is my own hard earnings"—I said, "Come, give me my money back; if you want a drink of beer, I will give you one, but give me my money back"—he said, it was his own money; that is all—I told my daughter to fetch the police, and said to the male prisoner, "You hid better wait awhile,"—he said. "No," and went off down the road—I next saw him at Harlington Police Station the same day, about 1.45, and charged him.
Cross-examined. The man said at once he had not taken my money—there had been another man drinking in the bar, but ho was a regular customer, and lived near me—the male prisoner called a man in to have a drink—that was another man—there was one sixpence in the till which had a hole in it; that was not found on the prisoner—when I sent for the police the prisoners did not run away, they walked away.
FRANK SHERWOOD . I am a farm bailiff, and employed the prisoners—I paid them 6s. on the 10th—they had had "subs" previously—they had earned 13s. in the three days that I had employed them—tne 6s. consisted of four shillings and four sixpences.
Cross-examined. The 13s. was for their joint work—they had previously been working on an adjoining farm, and had earned 11s. there.
WILLIAM WILTSHIRE (309) 7'.) On August 12th I was on duty at Harlington Police Station—in consequence of something I heard I went in search of the prisoners on my bicycle and came up to them about 2 1/2 miles from the Plough and Harrow—I asked them if they had been in the Plough and Harrow—they said, "Yes, we had a pot of beer there"—I told them I should take them into custody on suspicion of having stolen some money from the till of the Plough and Harrow, Heath Row, Harmsworth—the woman replied, "We know nothing about the money"—I look them to the station where they were charged and searched—the female prisoner said, "We have been at work for Mr. Smith, and we settled up this morning"—they were identified by Miss Mason—I 17s. "id. was found on the male prisoner, consisting of 45 sixpences, 12 shillings, one half-crown, and 5d. in bronze—on the woman was found six sixpences and four shillings.
Cross-examined. They said at once they had been in the Plough and Harrow and came quite readily to the station.
WILLIAM WELSH GUILTY .
HANNAH WELSH NOT GUILTY . WILLIAM WELSH then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Guildhall. Westminster, on July 6th. 1901 Three other convictions were proved against him. Twenty months' hard labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, September 14th, 1904.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
SYLVIA VALENTINE . I am an assistant to Mr. Trend, a draper, of 30, Red Lion Street—on August 9th, the prisoner came in for a 6 1/2 d. pair of socks, and threw down on the counter this 5s. piece in payment (Produced)—I noticed it had a peculiar ring, and I picked it up and looked at it, but it seemed all right—Mr. Trend had not change, so I went across the road to Mr. Uglow, a baker, of 50, Red Lion Street, who gave me the change, and on my return I gave the prisoner 4s. old. And the socks, and he left the shop—Mr. Uglow ran across and said the crown was bad, and I pointed the prisoner out to him—I then ran after the prisoner and asked him to come back with me, and he did so—Mr. Uglow, who had been waiting in the shop, then said something to him which I did not catch.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were walking down Red Lion Street when I caught you up—I cannot say how far you had gone, but it was a goodish way—you said, "All right; I will come back."
WILLIAM ERNEST UGLOW . I am a baker of 50, Red Lion Street—on August 9th Valentine came into my shop and asked me for change for a crown—she gave me this coin (Produced)—I gave her the change and she ran out of the shop—directly she had gone I felt it and found it to be a bad one—I went to the door and saw the prisoner come out of the draper's shop opposite and walk down the street—I held the coin up that Valentine could sec it and pointed to the prisoner, and she indicated that he was the man that had passed it—she followed him and brought him back to the draper's shop—I asked him where (he change was, and he handed me 4s. 5 1/2 d.—I asked him, "What else have you got?"—he said, "I have just bought a pair of socks," which I told him to hand over to me—he said, "How do I go on?"—I said, "You know this is bad"—he asked how I knew that, and told me to test it—we went to my shop opposite, and I put on my hat and coat—we then went out to get the coin tested; but instead of going to a pawn broker's, as the prisoner suggested, I took him to the police station. where he was detained—I handed the coin to the police.
Cross-examined. After you handed me the 4s. 5 1/2 d, I asked Valentine to go over and mind my shop for me—I will not say that you did not say that you did not know it was bad—I tested it in my shop on the slate—you said, "You are taking me a long way to the pawnbrokers,
Guv'nor"—possibly I said when we got to the police station, "I am going in here to get it tested"—you had no alternative but to come in with me—I did not have hold of you, but I kept my eye on you.
GEORGE HAWTHORN (37 E.) I was in charge of the Gray's Inn Road Police Station on August 9th when Uglow and the prisoner came in—Uglow produced this coin (Produced), and said in the prisoner's presence that the man had passed it at the shop of Mr. Trend, a draper of 30, Red Lion Street, and—that he believed it was bad—I asked the prisoner where he had got it from, and he said that a man had given it to him to bring a horse from a depository in Edgware Road to King's Cross; that he had walked from King's Cross, and on his way home had gone into the shop to buy a pair of socks for which he had paid 6 1/2 d., and that he did not know the crown was bad—I searched him and found 1 1/2 d. in bronze—he gave his name as George Lock, his age as 54, his address as 54, Gordon Chambers, Smith Street, Chelsea, and his occupation as a porter—he was charged with uttering a bad coin, and brought before the Magistrate, when he was remanded in custody, and eventually discharged.
JOSEPH JOSLIN (Sergeant E.) I heard the prisoner give his address to Hawthorn, but afterwards he told me his address was another lodging house in the same street, of which he did not know the name—I asked at both addresses for George Lock or George Lawrence, but with no result—he was in custody till August 15th, when he was discharged.
Cross-examined. It was about 7 p.m. when you gave me your address; it was about 10.10 p.m. when I went to inquire at the two addresses you had given—you told me your name was Lawrence, and I said that you had given your name to Hawthorn as Lock, and you said that they must have made a mistake—they did not know anybody of the name of Lock or Lawrence at both the addresses which you had given—I think you said when you were charged in the name of Lock that you were being charged in the wrong name.
LILIAN HICKS . I am a barmaid at the Colville Arms, King's Road, Chelsea—about 8 a.m., on August 30th, the prisoner came in and asked for twopenny worth of rum—I served him, and he give me this crown (Produced) in payment—I tested it with aqua fortis, and told him that it was bad—he said, "All right; I know where I go tit from," and told me to hurry up and give him the coin back as he had to go off to work, and could not wait—I handed it to him back and he left the house—I communicated with the manager, and William Burton, a potman, followed him—he was brought back by a constable, and I said that I recognised him; he said nothing.
Cross-examined. After you gave me the coin I took it to the manage in the bar parlour to test it—I was gone about two minutes—you cou. have gone out if you had liked.
WILLIAM BURTON . I am a potman at the Colville Arms—I saw the barmaid return the 5s. piece to the prisoner who went out—she made communication to me, and I followed him as far as Sloane Square—I there pointed him out to a constable, who stopped him—the prisoner
put his hand in his right hand pocket, took out the 5 piece and handed it to the constable, who said "Do you know it is bad?"—he replied, No. I did not know it was bad: I know where I got it from"—he was then taken back to the house.
Cross-examined. At Sloane Square you ran across to a urinal, and it was when you had come out that I pointed you out to the constable—you stopped when you came out.
ALFRED GOODING (39 B.R.) I was on duty in Sloane Square on August 30th when Burton pointed out to mo the prisoner who had just come out of a urinal—I crossed over the road and told him I should Lake him into custody for having counterfeit coin in hi? possession—he put his hand in his right hand trousers pocket and produced this coin (Produced), saying, "This is all I have got—I then took him to the Colville Arms, where the barmaid identified him—I searched him and found 1d. on him—I then took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Hicks tested the crown whilst I was there with aqua fords.
Re-examined. He explained his possession of the coin, by saying he had had a half sovereign in his possession the night before; that he had been on the drink, and that when he got up in the morning he had found the crown and the penny in his pocket.
MICHAEL MORGAN (Sergeant D.) I was at the Walton Street Police Station, on August. "30th, when the prisoner was brought in—he gave an address at Jubilee Chambers, Hammersmith, his name as George Lowry, his age as fifty-eight years, and his occupation as an upholsterer—I said, "You will be charged with uttering this counterfeit crown piece"—he said, "I did not know it was bad; I got it in a public house at Hammersmith, where I changed a half sovereign; I got rather fuddled last night, and woke up this morning with a 5s. piece and a penny in my pocket"—I asked him if he could tell me the name of the public house, and he said he could not.
The prisoner, in his defence said that the first crown he had obtained from a man for taking a horse from Edgware Road to York Road, Kings Cross, and that he did not know it was counterfeit; that with reference to the second crown, on the night previous to his passing it, he changed a half sovereign in a public house: then he became intoxicated, and the next morning woke up and found the crown and a penny in his pocket and that he did no! know that the crown was bad also
GUILTY . Four months' hard labour.
671. MAX COHEN (24) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a purse and 4s. 8d., the property of Laura Hancock, from her person, hiving been convicted of felony at Clerkenwe'l Sessions on September 17th. 1901, as Michael Cohen. Nine months' hard labour.-And
of felony at the Norm London Police Court on June 29th, 1903. Two other convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, September 15th and 16th, 1904
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
673. WILLIAM THOMAS (65) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing three Kings. the property of Nellie O'Neill; also to stealing a ring, the property of Violet Turner; also to stealing a ring, the property of Beulah Turner; also to having been entrusted by Nellie O'Neill with two gold rings and a coin, did fraudulently convert the same to his own use and benefit; also to having been entrusted with rings by Violet and Beulah Turner did convert the same to his own use and benefit; also to attempting to steal a ring, the property of Emily Forwerk; also to unlawfully and fraudulently obtaining rings from Nellie O'Neill, Evelyn Miriam Edwards, Violet Turner, and Beulah Turner by false pretences, with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony at this Court on May 7th, 1877, in the name of John Smith. Mr. Charles Mathews, for the prosecution, stated that Adolph Beck (see page 764) had received the King's Pardon in regard to his two conviction which took place on March 5th, 1896, and June 27th, 1904; that three of (he witnesses who had identified Mr. Beck as the man who had victimised them had since avowed that they were mistaken in their identification: that Mr. Beck, although he had been forced to admit that he teas convicted in 1896, had a ways denied that the conviction was a righ: me, and that the prosecution believed that that conviction was a wrong one, as the one in 1904 was proved to be. Mr. Justice Phillimore sentenced the prisoner to five years penal servitude.
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; and MR. ELLIOTT Defended Stonehaw.
STONEHAM— NOT GUILTY .
ALLEN— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of her age. Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September 15th, 1904.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
MR. WARBURTON Prpsecuted MR. MUIR Defended.
GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.
JOHN ROBERT POOLER . I live at Chatham—in August I was on a visit to Hounslow—on August 22nd, a little after 3.30 p.m., I had been to the railway station to get some newspapers—I was returning along Hanworth Road when the prisoner said, "Halloa!"—I turned and said, I do not know you"—he said "Oh. yes you do"—I said, "I have never seen you before in my life"—he said, "Don't you remember going across the fields with me eighteen months ago?"—he got in front of me, and as his manner was threatening I gave him 2s. to get rid of him—he said "2s. is no good, I want some more""—to get rid of him I gave him another 2s.—he said the 4s. was no good, he wanted more, and that I knew very well what he wanted it for—I walked on towards the Bell Road and he followed me—he asked me for another 2s.—he said, "You know when I went across the fields with you you promised me 10s.," and he said that if I did not give him more he would give me in charge of the police—I gave him another 2s.—he left me—I went up Bell Road, from the top of the High Street, to the solicitor, Mr. Robinson's private house—I then thought he had an office in the High Street and went to the office—when I got to the top of the High Street the prisoner was being driven up in a costermonger's Cart by another man—he came across to me, and said, "That 6s. is no good, I want 10s.—by that time I had got up to the solicitor's door—he followed me on to the door step—I went in and saw somebody—I made a complaint—I was afraid of the prisoner's manner as I suffer from my heart—I had never seen him before.
Cross-examined by the prisoner, I did not ask you in a field to have a cigarette—I did not say, "Take two or three," nor "You look as if you could do with another pair of boots to what you have got on," and pull one of my boots off and ask you to try it on when it fitted, nor kiss you, nor * * * *, nor ask you to * * * *, nor say in answer to your statement "I will have you locked up," "You do not want to do that. I will give you 10s."
made a complaint—I went to the police station with him, where he made a charge.
WILLIAM HAILSTONE (Policeman.) On August 22nd I saw the prosecutor at the solicitor's office—I had been to the station—on his making a complaint I went to Hanworth Road with him to find the prisoner; we did not succeed—about 8.45 next morning I saw him in Hanworth Road—I sent for the prosecutor, who painted to the prisoner as the man who had obtained 6s. from him the day before—I crossed the road and said to him, "You" know me?"—he replied. "Yes"—I told him the charge—he said, "I know; quite right; but I did not ask him for the money, he gave it to me"—I conveyed him to the police station—when charged he said, "That is right; I had 6s.; he knows what it was for," pointing to the prosecutor, "he promised me 10s."—I charged him with, demanding money by threats and menaces, and told him that he had been pointed out as the man who had obtained 6s. the day before from John Robert Pooler, and that, I should take him into custody on that charge—I found on him 7s. 6d. in silver (three 2s. pieces) and 7d. bronze—I afterwards went to him in the cells for the purpose of making inquiries, such as the names of people he had worked for, when he voluntarily said, "I should think the further he goes on with this case the worse it will be for him; he wanted me to * * * he promised me 10 bob; I never asked for any"—he was charged with a further offence.
GUILTY . Fifteen months' hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, September 15th, 1904.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(682) ELSIE PFAFFENBACH (25) to stealing, while being servant to Clara Cosgrove, 4 knives, 3 spoons, and other articles; also to feloniously stealing a bag and other property, the goods of Augusta Everett; also to forging and uttering an indorsement on an order for the payment of £5, with intent to defraud. Judgment respied. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(683.) WALTER SMITH (28) , to feloniously sending to William Richard Upton a letter demanding money with menaces, well knowing the contents thereof, having been convicted of felony at Marlborough Police Court on December 2nd, 1902, in the name of James King. Three other convictions were proved against him. Six months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
684. ALFRED HYLAND (33) , Having been entrusted by James Upjohn with a black silk dress in order that he might deliver it to Maud Benater, unlawfully and fraudulently converted it to his own use and benefit.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
parlour maid at the house—by my mistress's direction on August 2nd, about 11 a.m., the prisoner's wife gave him a white cardboard. box which contained a dress—he was to deliver it to Madame Benater. 23 Addiscombe Road, Parson's Green, Fulham, which address was on the box—I have never seen or heard anything of the dress or box since.
Cross-examined by (he prisoner. I have made a slight mistake; the address was not on the box but on an envelope placed under the string.
MAUD BENATER . I am a dressmaker at 23. Addiscombe Road. Parson's Green, Fulham—on August 2nd I knew that a parcel was coming to me from Mrs. Carter, the daughter of Mr. Upjohn—I have not received it nor heard anything of it—on August 9th prisoner came and said that Mrs. Carter had sent him down to see about the parcel—I asked him what he meant—he said that he brought a parcel a week ago and left it at that address—ho said that someone was coming in at the gate and he asked the person if Madame Benater lived there, and showed her the address on the card, and asked if I was there, and he said that the girl took the parcel and said, "Oh. yes, it is all right." but that I was out. and that he saw the girl let herself in with a key—I have three assistants in my establishment—they were all there on August 2nd—I did not leave the house that day till 8 p.m.—I saw the prisoner again on August 11th, when he saw two of my girls—he said it was neither of them to whom he handed the box—the third assistant had gone that day to the hospital—the description he gave of the girl does not tally with hers—he described her as tall and dark and between the ages of is and 20, with a white sailor hat with a black band—I answered the bell at the house on every occasion on August 2nd.
Cross-examined. I did say to you that people often made a mistake with the houses in Cheyne Walk.
HENRY FITZGERALD (Police Sergeant B.) In consequence of information received, I arrested the prisoner on August 12th for stealing a silk dress that was entrusted to him to deliver—he replied, "It was a brown paper parcel, and I delivered it there"—I said, "But the lady at the house will say that she answered the door to everybody calling there that day, and no dress was delivered there"—he made no answer to that—I took him to the Chelsea Police Station—he made no answer to the charge.
Cross-examined. You distinctly said, "A brown paper parcel."
Re-examined. Nothing has been discovered of the parcel.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty of it: if I had taken it for my own purposes I should not have been here. Before proceedings were taken prosecutor said if I had done anything with it and owned it he would overlook it."
The RECORDER said that he considered the evidence was not strong enough, and the Jury returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARDY Prosecuted; MR. WATT Defended.
CHARLES ALEXANDER VEREBETY . I live at 43, Liverpool Street, King's Cross, and am a diamond mounter—on August 12th I was in Regent's Park, and saw the prisoner on a plot of grass near the flower gardens—there were two little girls with him—I did not know them—they were all lying on the grass, the two little girls on their chests, their chins resting on their hands, the prisoner lying alongside of them—they were talking—I did not say anything to them on that occasion—next day I was in the park, and saw the prisoner meet the same two little girls—I heard him say that he was sorry he was so late; he also apologised for having forgotten to bring a book he had promised—the girls spoke to him—he pulled out a bag of plums and distributed them—I went away, and returned a little later and noticed the prisoner lying full length on the grass alone with Beatrice Guiver—I said to my friend who was with me, "Keep a watch on the man"—ten minutes afterwards the girl went away with the other children in one direction and the prisoner in another—we followed him, and saw him meet the girl again in the flower gardens—we followed the prisoner; he noticed us, because I saw him turn round—he then disappeared—we stopped where we were and saw him join the children again—we followed them, and he disappeared a second time—we saw him rejoin them again, leading them in the direction of Regent's Canal—we stopped him and asked him what business he had with the children and whether they were any friends of his—he said that he knew their mother and was going to live in their house—I did not believe it and asked the girl, but I do not know that the prisoner could hear—the next day I saw the prisoner in the flower gardens—he asked me why I followed him about, and I said I did not approve of this acquaintance with the girls, as their parents knew nothing about it, and I did not think he was a fit companion for them—the previous day I saw the prisoner hand a slip of paper to Beatrice Guiver; I asked her what it was, and she said it was his name and address—I asked the prisoner why he gave his name and address to the girl, and he said he wanted to take her somewhere—I told him he had no business to take a girl of that age anywhere without the knowledge of her parents—he said there was no harm in it—I said it was a matter of opinion, and if I saw him speak to the girl again, I should communicate with her parents—next day, Monday morning, I saw him again hiding in Woburn Mews, on the opposite side of the road to where the girl lives—I had ascertained where she lived, and went to the house and told her parents what I had seen—the father went for a policeman, and 1 saw the prisoner run away.
Cross-examined. I happened to be in the park, because my work is slack in August, and I go there with a book or paper—this is the first time I have brought a charge against any man—on the 13th I went to watch him; on the 14th the prisoner came straight up to me; he did not avoid me; he asked for an explanation—I did not see him touch the girls in any way.
Re-examined. It is not true that I apologised to him; I had nothing to apologise for.
BEATRICE GUIVER . I am 13 years old and live with my father and mother at 19 Woburn Place—my father is a boarding-house keeper—I never saw the prisoner until he came and spoke to us on August I lit 12th in Regent's Park—I had throe little brothers and one sister with me—he asked my sister to sew a button on his coat—she is 10 years old—she sewed it on—he told us he, had been out to the war in South Africa for three years; that he had been in the Post Office, and that ho had had a medal given to him by the King—he showed me the medal—I saw him (he next day in the park—he sat down a few feet away from us—a few minutes afterwards he asked us to go over to the cricket field where it was quieter—he said there was somebody following him—I saw two gentlemen following—one of them was the last witness—we went home soon afterwards, followed by the prisoner as far as the Hampstead Road—I did I not see him the next day, Sunday, hut on Monday. as I was coming down Southampton Row, he came behind me and took hold of my arm, and asked me to go to the Tower of London the same morning—I told him my mother would not go to he wanted me to go and ask my parents—then our charwoman. Mrs. Ayton, came up and spoke to the prisoner—I think she slapped his face—I then went home—the prisoner told me it was Mr. Verebety who had been after the girls in the park, and that he had apologised to him (the prisoner) for telling me what was wrong about him.
Cross-examined. I often go to the park during the school holidays—he prisoner is the first person who his ever spoken to me—if he had said anything wrong I should have told my mother—I did not tell her because I thought he had done or said nothing wrong—he did not any anything wrong to me the whole time—he was never rude to me—I was sitting on the grass when he first spoke to me. not lying down—the prisoner was lying down on his side and began talking to us—I thought it was so trivial that I did not mention it at home.
KATE AYTON . I live at 25, Kenton Street. W.C. and am employed by the last witness's mother—I remember seeing the prisoner with the little girls in Herbrand Street on 15th August—I was sent to look for her as she was a long time gone on a message—I asked her what she was doing with the prisoner: she said he was asking her to go to the Tower of London—I told him he had no right to speak to her, and he said he was only asking her to go to the Tower of London I told him to go about his business—he kept on talking—I said I should like to give him a good thrashing, and with that I smacked his face—he talked in a rambling manner—he said he knew he was being watched by a gentleman.
Cross-examined. He spoke to me in a silly way.
WILLIAM GUIVER . I am a boarding house keeper at 19 Woburn Place, and am the father of Beatrice Quiver—she is thirteen—I do not know the prisoner at all—he has never been to my house—he does not know my wife he his never taken board or apartments with us-on
August 15th a communication was made to me—I looked out of the window and saw the prisoner—I went out and said to him, "What do you mean by trying to entice my daughter away from homo"—he made some mumbled statement, I hardly understood what he said—I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. I did not think he was a silly fellow from his state-mont; I think he had his wits about him.
ALFRED WOODMAN (362 E.) I was in Woburn Place on August 15th—the prisoner was given into my custody—I took him to the station where he was charged with attempting to entice the child away—he replied, "The girl knows better than that herself"—he was searched, and live letters were found on him relating to Brixton Prison, also a war medal which was handed to the man who lost it, by the Magistrate's order—I have not it here.
GUILTY of attempting to entice the child away. Two convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months hard labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday and Friday, September 15th and 16th, and
NEW COURT.—Saturday, September 17th, 1904.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
686. WILLIAM BLACKWELL (30) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch from John Cuthbertson, his property, having been convicted of felony at Clerkcnwell Sessions on April 5th, 1898, as William Legas. Several other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour, and two years' police supervision.
MR. HENDERSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM CHARY (Interpreted.) I am a bamboo worker of 14, Samuel Street, E.—about 5) p.m. on August 20th I saw the prisoner in the yard at the back of the house, and told him not to make such a noise when he pot up at 5 a.m. to start work—he did not say anything, but went indoors and fitched a jug and struck me with it in the "face and I fell—when I came to my senses I left the yard and fetched two policemen and gave the prisoner into custody—I was taken to the police station, and from there to the London Hospital—I cannot now see with my left eye at all—I did not strike the prisoner at all at the time.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It was about an hour after you struck me that I went for a policeman—I do not remember whether, when charging you. that I said you struck me at 11 o'clock—I was muddled from the blow.
MARIE CHARY (Interpreted.) I am the prosecutor's wife—on the night of August 20th I was in bed with my husband—when he went into the yard and told the prisoner not to make such a noise as early as 5 a.m.—I then heard a sound-like glass breaking—I ran into the yard and saw my
husband covered with blood—I asked the prisoner why he hail assaulted my husband, and he hit me on the face with a piece of the jug he held in his hand—I fell to the ground and he kicked me—the policemen came and the prisoner was given into custody.
Cross-examined. I was perfectly sober.
SIMON ORAN . I am a fruiterer, of 14, Samuel Street. E.—on August 20th, between 10 and 11 p.m., I was looking through the window when I saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor in the eye with a jug—the prosecutor's wife and I went into the yard; the prisoner assaulted her but he did not touch me—I saw the pieces of the jug lying about.
Cross-examined. My window looks into the yard—I could see you by the light that came from a window in the front room, which was open—I heard you quarrelling—I did not see the prisoner having a row with your wife; she was in the workshop—I did not hear her calling the prosecutor—I have lent you money at times to get something to cat—I had a row with you the week before because you would not pay me your rent.
ARTHUR SKELLINGTON (180 H.) On the night of August 20th I was called by the prosecutor to No. 14, Samuel Street, who gave the prisoner into custody—the prosecutor was bleeding from wounds on his face—I arrested the prisoner—he said, "I never done it; he was having a row with his wife, and he must have fallen down"—I took him to the station—I went back and found these piece of broken jug covered with blood (Produced) in the passage.
Cross-examined. I charged you about 11.30 p.m.; neither you nor the prosecutor was drunk; you were both excited—you did not say that the prosecutor was having a row with your wife.
ALBERT HANDLEY (Sergeant H.) I was at the police station when the prisoner was brought in on August 20th—he was charged in the early morning of August 21st, with violent assault—he said, "I did not do it, his own wife done it; if you go to her room you will rind two other jugs similar to the one broken; I never had a jug like that in my life"—I wont to the prosecutor's room at 14, Samuel Street, and found one small white jug with a gold band round it; I also searched the prisoner's room, but I saw no other jugs like it there.
By the COURT. Notes were made at the time of what he said—he said nothing about his own wife.
FRANCIS KIDD . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—I examined the prisoner on August 21st at 1 a.m.—he seemed rather dazed and was suffering from various wounds round his left eye—on the evening of the same day I examined the wounds more closely and found that the eyeball was ruptured in two places and was of no use, so I removed it—the other wounds were trivial and have healed up—a jug is just the sort of thing to have caused the injury.
Evidence for the Defence.
up and asked for some water, and I took a jug out in the yard to get some—the prosecutor thought I was going to spy on him, and he came out in the yard and began to assault me, tearing my clothes—being alone I mis frightened and struck him with the jug—I did not mean to hit him so hard—my husband left my house at 11 o'clock, and I did not know where he was.
Cross-examined. I do not know when he came back, as he was arrested in the street—I went to the police court, but I was not allowed to go in—I do not know why my husband's solicitor did not call me.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he was not at home at the lime and did not hit the prosecutor.
GUILTY . Two previous convictions were proved against him. Twelve month' hard labour.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK SELVEY . I am a cabinet maker of 3, Sermon Lane, Islington, and I have a little girl named Gertrude Evelina, aged 4 years—at 4 p.m. on August 28th she came home from Sunday School and went out into the street to play as usual, without a hat—next time I saw her was in the Upper Street Police Station, at 8 p.m. the same day—I do not know the prisoner at all—I have never given him nor anybody else authority to take my child away.
LOTTIE ROWE . I live at 15, Albert Street, Islington—between 4.30 and 4.40 p.m., on August 28th, I saw the prisoner in Cloudesley Road walking with two little children by his side holding each others hands—he asked Gertrude Evelyn Solvey why she had not put her hat on, and she said, "I did not want to."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I said at the police court that you were reading a paper, but I did not say you were smoking a pipe.
JAMES HOARE . I am a tram car conductor, of 608, Holloway Road—on August 28th, at 7.11 p.m., I was going in the direction of Sermon Lane, when at the junction of Holloway Road and Liverpool Road, I was stopped by the prisoner, who was standing on the pavement with two children—he brought them across the road and assisted one of them, who wore a bonnet, on to the car and they went on top—on reaching St. James Road, I went up to collect the fares, and he handed me a 1d. and four half pennies—he was sitting between the two children—I said there was no need to pay for both of the babies, and I handed him back two half pennies—a little farther along a woman shouted, but I did not take it that she was shouting at me—I had to stop about two hundred yards further on to set down some passengers, when a boy ran up and said, "Stop the tram, there is a man on top stealing two children," and ran up stairs and caught hold of one of the children—I went on top and said, "What is the matter?" and—the boy said, "Child stealing is the matter"—I said. I cannot have a fight on the top of the car. you had better come
along and find a policeman," and we went down stairs—the prisoner was taken into custody by a policeman.
Cross-examined. The smallest child did not get on the tram at Liverpool Road by herself.
GEORGE HOWARD (37 N.R.) At 7.30 p.m., on August 28th, I saw a crowd round a tram car in Liverpool Road—I went to the top of the tram, and saw the prisoner and the little girl Selvey and the other child coming down from the top—a young man said to me in the prisoner's presence, "Those children have been missing from home for just over four hours, and their mothers and father is have been looking for them, and the grandmother of the little girl Selvey recognised her granddaughter on the tram car and sent me to stop the car"—I asked the prisoner if he would come down into the street, and he did so—the grandmother, who was waiting, said that she would give him into custody, and I took him in charge—he said nothing—Sermon Lane is half a mile from Cloudesley Street—the tram was going away from Sermon Lane.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:" The child was on the tram when I got there. I only paid for myself."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that Selvey was on the tram when he got on; that he sat by her, as that was the only seal vacant, and that he knew nothing of Hutchings.
GUILTY . A conviction at this Court on September 16th, 1889 of carnally knowing a girl under the age of 13 years and two other similar convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. RODERICK Prosecuted.
ALFRED PURKIS . I am a baker—at 1.15 a.m., on August. 30th, I was going down Wentworth Street when a woman spoke to me—I was sober at the time—I told her to clear off, when I was seized by a man who came in front of me, and whom I now recognise as Tarbuck—I did not see the other two men—I was put down on the pavement, and a sovereign in my left hand pocket, some change in my right hand pocket, about 25s. in all. and a quartern of whisky, were taken from me; they then ran off—I spoke to a man who came up and went to the station with him, where I Saw three men, one of whom, Tarback, I identified.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. I was going up the right hand side of Wentworth Street—when I got up off the ground I did not see any policemen—a man, whom I now know to be a policeman, came up to me—he was in plain clothes—I did not say before the Magistrate that I did not see anyone till I got to Commercial Street Police Station—I believe you were one of the three I saw at the police station—I do not re-member that Dennis whispered to me before I identified Humphries—I did not see either of the constables arrest anybody—I cannot recognise you as one of the men who attacked me.
Cross-examined by Tarbuck. Your face was in front of me.
FRANK DENNIS (277 H.) At 12.45 p.m., on August 30th, I was in High Street, Whitechapel. when I saw the prosecutor in company with a woman going towards Commercial Street—I was in company with another officer—I saw the three prisoners apparently watching the prosecutor and the woman, who stopped outside Webb's, the distillers—the prosecutor then passed him, and all three went to the opposite side of Commercial Street—McCarthy leant on an iron post at the corner of Commercial Street, and Tarbuck and Humphries went a little farther down and stood on the kerb—when the prosecutor moved from outside Webb's with the woman and went down Commercial Street, McCarthy went and spoke to the other two, and all three followed the prosecutor down Commercial Street as far as Wentworth Street—about 100 yards up on the right side the prisoners crossed over from the left, and Tarbuck caught the prosecutor by his throat and threw him to the ground—McCarthy rifled his pockets on the right hand side, holding his arm, and Humphries on the other side—I caught McCarthy as he ran across the road, and he said, "What is up? I am going home"—I took him to where the prosecutor was—he pulled a quartern bottle of whisky out of his pocket, saying, "I am going to have a drink of whisky," and I said, "You are not; you are in custody"—he then threw it to the ground and broke it—Tarbuck was caught in Brick Lane; Humphries got away—at 4 p.m. on September 5th. At Commercial Street Police Station, I recognised Humphries from among eight other men; I have known him previously.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. When you passed us we were standing in the door of a chemist's shop—when you got to the iron, post I did not see you say good-bye to Humphries and Tarbuck and go to a coffee stall—there may have been 20 or 30 people round the coffee stall, which was a quarter of a mile from the scene of the robbery—you stood at the post for five minutes; I observed you the whole time—I did not say before the Magistrate that the robbery took place outside a little public house on the left hand side of Wentworth Street—I was standing on the opposite side in Lolesworth Street about 20 or 30 yards away, when 1 saw you rob the prosecutor—you came across, to me—it was at the corner of Lolesworth Street that I arrested you.
Cross-examined by Humphries. You walked as far as Venable's; you did not bid the other two good night and go off.
HENRY BEECHEY (City Police.) At 12.45 a.m. on August 30th I was" with Dennis in High Street, Whitechapel, when I saw prosecutor with a woman, and the three prisoners walking about 30 yards behind—they followed them up to the corner of Commercial Street, when McCarthy went to the other side of the road—the prosecutor and the woman then went into Wentworth Street, when McCarthy joined the two other prisoners—when we got to the corner of the street we were about 80 yards behind, and a minute after I saw the three prisoners and the prosecutor go to the ground—the woman ran away—by the time I had got up they were separated—on getting to the corner of Lolesworth Street I saw
McCarthy in the custody of Dennis, and Tarbuck running away—I gave chase to him and ho was caught by another constable in Flower and Dean Street—I told him the charge, to which he made no reply, and he came back with me to the station—Humphries, whom I knew by sight, ran up towards Brick Lane through Wentworth Street—I am quite sure that he was one of the men who attacked the prosecutor on September 5th, and at the Commercial Street Police Station I identified him from among eight others—I had seen McCarthy and Tarbuck occasionally before.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. We were about 50 yards away from you when you stopped at the post—there were not many people passing up and down—you did not go over to a coffee stall—it was a dark corner, but still I could see you when you attacked the prosecutor—I saw you in custody outside the little public house on the left side of Wentworth Street.
Cross-examined by Tarbuck. I chased you through Lolesworth Street into Thrawl Street and into Flower and Dean Street, when another officer arrested you.
Cross-examined by Humphries. I saw you in company with the two other prisoners—you did not bid them good night outside Venable's.
GEORGE CORNISH (Constable H.) At 12.50 p.m., on September 5th. I saw Humphries in Brick Lane and told him I should arrest him on suspicion of being concerned with two men named McCarthy and Tarbuck in assaulting and robbing a man, and he said, "All right"—on the way to the station he said, "Someone has put you up to this, or you would not have known it was me"—Dennis and Beechey identified him at the station from amongst eight other men—he made no reply to the charge, but afterwards said, "Arc those the same two that had McCarthy and Tarbuck?—I said, "Yes,"—and he then said, "That is all right then. I shall not grumble now."
Cross-examined by Humphries. You did not say when I arrested you, "How do you know my name is Humphries?"—as a matter of fact I have known you personally for three years.
McCarthy, in his defence, said that at the time, owing to the public houses closing, there were a good many people about; that the policemen had made a mistake in arresting him; that he had just had a cup of coffee at a coffee stall, and was on his way home with Tarbuck, when Dennis arrested him: that Tarbuck ran away; that it was impossible for the policemen, 80 yards away, to see that it was he who had attacked the prosecutor, it being dark at the time; and that both the policemen's evidence had differed as to the site of the robbery.
Tarbuck, in his defence, said that he was with McCarthy when McCarthy was arrested in the middle of Lolesworth Street; that not wishing to get himself into 'rouble he ran away; that it was impossible for the policemen in the middle of Lolesworth Street to see who had attacked the prosecutor in Wentworth Street; and that they had made a mistake in arresting him.
Humphries, in his defence, said thai he met Tarbuck and McCarthy in High Street. Aldgat £, and walked down with them as far as commercial
Street, where he shook hands with them and left them; and that he knew nothing of the robbery.
McCARTHY† then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerken-well Sessions on July 4th, 1899, in the name of Thomas Smith; and TARBUCK† to a conviction of felony at Worship Street Police Court on May 21th, 1900. Two previous convictions were proved against him, and four against HUMPHRIES.† Four years' penal servitude each. McCARTHY five years' penal servitude.
MR. LYONS Prosecuted. Philip Ley. I am a stamp dealer, of 38, Graccchurch Street, E.C.—on August 14th I received this post card, dated August 15th, as follows: "I should be glad to receive a selection of stamps on approbation. I can refer you to my tutor, Alfred Hamilton, M.A., 222, King's Road, Chelsea—Yours truly, Philip Molyneux"—I wrote to Hamilton and received this reply, "I have known Mr. Molyneux and other members of his family at Richmond, for about three years. For the past eighteen months he has been my private pupil, and I believe him to be thoroughly upright and honourable—Yours faithfully, Alfred Hamilton"—in conesquence of that I sent some stamps to the address given, 35, The Quadrant, Richmond, and registered the letter, for which this is the receipt (Produced)—this is the letter which I dispatched and I find the contents to be intact (Produced).
Cross-examined. I value the stamps at £2.
EDITH BUSBY . I am an assistant at 35, The Quadrant, Richmond, which is a stationer's shop—I know the prisoner by sight—I have taken in letters for him in the names of "Wilson "and "Molyneux"—I received this letter (Produced) and handed it to a police sergeant on August 22nd.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner to be the son of Mrs. Wilson of 35, Harford Road, who is a customer of ours—he told me he was writing stories for periodicals in the name of "Molyneux"—he did not tell me he was sending parcels to the various editors under that name.
HENRY MYERS . I am a hairdresser of 222, King's Road Chelsea, and I take in letters and parcels—I have taken in letters for the prisoner under the names of "Alfred Hamilton, M.A." and "Cams Wilson" at—his request—the prisoner came and took those letters away.
ALBERT CHATT (Detective B.) On August 18th I received a warrant for the arrest of the prisoner for attempted fraud on Mr. Bentham, of Clither-ton Street, Pimlico—I arrested him at 7.30 p.m. at 5, Wellington Square, Chelsea—I read him the warrant, and in reply he said, "I wrote to Mr. Bentham; I never obtained any stamps; my son collects stamps and I gave him the reference; I am responsible"—when charged at the station he made no reply—I afterwards searched his rooms, when I found a quantity of stamps in packets and books, a quantity of memoranda, a card in the name of Thomas William Hunter, dealer in foreign stamps,
136 King's Road. Chelsea," a sheet of writing paper with the typed heading 136 Margaretta Terrace," mother piece bearing the heading 26 Margaretta Terraee," and a quantity with "3"), Wellington Terrace.' and "222. King's Road"—I went to No. 136, King's Road, and found it to he a tobacconist's shop, and I went also to No. 26, Margaretta Terraee, which I found to be a lodging house.
Cross-examined. I know that he at one time lodged at 26 Margaretta Terraee—it is true that he has a son, named Claud—there were two stamp albums on the premises—I have ascertained that he has boon ordained a clergyman of the Church of England in 1882 in New Zealand.
MICHAEL MORGAN (Sergeant B.) On August 22nd I received this letter from Edith Busby at 33, The Quadrant, Richmond (Produced)—I informed the prisoner on that day that he would be charged with obtaining the stamps enclosed in that letter by fraud, to which he made no reply—ou the morning of the 19th he said, "The reason I wrote from the different addresses is that I wanted to get as many stamps as I could, as I wanted to open a business, and I know stamp dealers do not like sending a lot to one address; as regards Margaretta Terrace, I did live there, and I am a clergyman"—this is a specimen of his handwriting, written in my presence.
Cross-examined. He did not say that he wanted as many stamps as he could on approbation—he gave the police all the assistance he could.
JOHN ARTHUR BENTHAM . I am an actor of. "51, Clitherton Street, SAY., and collect and deal in old and new stamps occasionally—in the beginning of August, I inserted an advertisement in the "Exchange and Mart"—I received a post card addressed from 3, Wellington Square, Sloane Square, W., in the name of Claud Wilson, saying. "Will you please send me a selection of stamps on approval? I am residing at the above address with my father, who desires me to say he will be responsible for their safe return"—by the same post I received a letter from 136, King's Road, Chelsea, saying, "Dear Sir,—Will you kindly send me a good selection of foreign stamps on approval'. I am a private tutor, and will refer you to the father of one of my pupils, the Rev. Ernest Wilson, M.A., 26, Margaretta Terrace, Oakley Street. Chelsea, who has known me for several years.—Yours truly, Thomas W. Hunter"—in consequence of that I wrote to the Rev. Ernest Wilson at the address given, and on August 13th I received this reply, Dear Sir.—In reply to yours asking my opinion of Mr. T. W. Hunter. I beg to say I have known him for six or seven years and have always found him strictly honourable and upright. He has been tutor to my son for the past two years, and the boy has made great progress under his tuition. I happen to know that Mr. Hunter has a great number of pupils at present, and should consequently be in a position to meet any reasonable liabilities he may incur—Yours faithfully. Ernest Wilson"—that letter was handwritten—I did not send any stamps because I got a letter shortly afterwards from 222, King's Road, Chelsea, from Mr. C. E. Wilson, saying, Dear Sir,—I wrote you a short time ago with reference to your sending me some foreign stamps on approval. but
afterwards requested you not to forward until you hoard definitely from me I now write to say if you are satisfied with the reference I gave to my solicitors, Messrs. Petch & Co., 42, Bedford Row, W.C., I shall be glad to receive a selection of used and unused stamps on approval. I enclose a list of special requirements, but this of course does not preclude your sending me some stamps of other countries as well—Yours faithfully, E. C. Wilson'—I should have sent the stamps to Mr. Thomas Hunter on the strength of the reference of Mr. Wilson, had I not noticed that all the paper from the different addresses was identical, and the peculiarities in typewriting were the same where the letters had boon typewritten—on the morning of August 13th or 14th I was going to post a letter to Mr. Hunter when I received a letter from 5, Wellington Square, in the name of "L. L. Cams Wilson,"' asking for stamps on approval, and giving a bank as a reference—I noticed that this letter was written from the same address as the first post card I received from Claud Wilson—I thought it rather curious, and in consequence I went to the police.
GUILTY . Twelve months' hard labour ,
691. LUDWIG FURSTINAU (20) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously 'forging a receipt for the sum of 2530 with intent to defraud. Second count Uttering that receipt knowing it to be forged. Five years' penal servitude.
692. EDWARD BRITTON (39) , Committing an act of gross indecency with another male person unknown. Second count, Assaulting Oscar Covel, a Metropolitan police constable, with intent to resist his lawful apprehension.
In the course of the case the Jury intimated that they did not think there was sufficient evidence to convict.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. MUIR Defended.
GUILTY on the Second count. Six months' hard labour.
FIFTH COURT.—Thursday, September 15th. 1904.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
Road to my work—I saw the prisoners—Hampson said. What's the time, old man—I had this watch on (Produced)—it is marked "K. Innersoll and Bros. U.S.A."—I don't know the number—I received a blow on the side of my head which brought me to the ground—Smith took my watch—Hampson said. "Now down him"—he took 10 1/2 d. from my pockets—they then went away—I cannot say which one stuck me—it was one of them—I had a kick—I can't say who did that—I have seen the prisoners before together in the locality—I gave information to the police—I did not mention any names, as I did not know them—I next saw the prisoners at the police station.
GEORGE ALLISON (Sergeant Y) On August 2nd the police received information with regard to this robbery—in consequence of certain information I went to (5, Charles Street, in the early morning of August '2nd—Hampson and his wife lived there—I knocked at the bedroom door and asked if Hampson was there—his wife said. "No. he has not been home all night"—I went in, and looking under the bed found Hampson there—he said. "All right Sergeant"—he asked me to leave the room whilst his wife finished dressing; I went out—on returning after five minutes I missed a watch that was on a table near the bed on my first visit—I took Hampson to the police station, and detained him on a charge of desertion—I went back, and after a search found the watch in the ashes in the grate—I asked Hampson where he got it, and he said he bought it at New Southgate—on the following day he was charged with the robbery—he said, "I did not steal the watch; I have had it eighteen months"—he could not account for its being found in the ashes—he said it must have fallen there.
THOMAS POWELL (Detective Y.) I saw Hampson on August 3rd, and told him a watch had been found in his room which had since been identified as belonging to the prosecutor, who said he had been robbed and assaulted, early on the morning of July 31st—I placed him with nine other men at King's Cross Police Station—the prosecutor identified him as one of the two men—Smith was not then in custody—Hampson, when charged, said, 'I did not steal it; I have had it for eighteen months"—Smith was arrested on August 5th—he was placed with a number of others at Caledonian Road Police Station—the prosecutor picked him out at once—I charged him with highway robbery with violence—he said, "What house breaking?"—I said 'What, have you done something else?"
FREDERICK BUTTERS (Detective Y.) I went with the last witness to a lodging house in Eaton Grove, Holloway, and arrested Smith—I told him he would be taken into custody for robbery and assault with violence on the night of July 31st—he said, "Who's been and put me away; I have a good mind to commit suicide"—he was taken to the police station and placed among nine others—the prosecutor saw him there and at once identified him—later Smith said. "I suppose Hampson has come copper on me. but the stuff was found where he lived."
Hampson in his defence on oath, said he had not committed the robbery:
that he was drunk on this night; that he passed the spot and saw a man hit the prosecutor; that he did not know if it was Smith; that the man ran against him. and. when he got home he found the watch in his pocket: thai he thought' the man who struck the blow and ran away put it there: that when he was arrested he was frightened and did not know what to say to account for the watch being in his possession, and that he threw it under the ashes himself.
Smith, in his defence on, oath, said that on the night of the robbery he was a' a lodging house at 1. Eaton Grove; that he had never been in Hampson's company; that he only knew him by marrying someone he knew; that it was not true that the prosecutor had seen him and Hampson about together in the neighbourhood.
Evidence for the Defence.
MRS. SMITH. lam Smith's wife—my husband was drunk on the night in question—he came home between twelve and two—I did tell the police when they called that he was not home—at that time he was under the bed—I never saw the watch until it was taken from the ashes.
EDWARD FREEMAX . I am a shoeblack—on the Sunday before August Bank Holiday I was with Hampson from 9.30 to 10.30—he said he was going straight home—his home was about a minute's walk from Wellington Street—he was rather drunk.
Cross-examined. I was charged with manslaughter at this Court when I was fourteen, and was acquitted.
GUILTY . Smith then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at North London Police Court on October 24th, 1890, as George Turner. One other conviction was proved against him. HAMPSON— Eleven months" hard labour; SMITH— Twelve months" hard labour.
695. WILLIAM BROWNLOW (24) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a bicycle, the property of Fred. Hillier; also to stealing a bicycle, the property of William Watson; also to stealing a bicycle the property of Tom Clements; also to stealing a bicycle the property of the Kilburn Cycle Comapany; also to obtaining by false pretences from Sarah Pidding a suit of clothes and other articles, with intent to, defraud, having been convicted of felony at North London Sessions on March 17th, 1903, as Frederick James Wilson. Two other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour on each indictment to run concurrently.—And
(696.) WALTER SMITH (23) , to breaking and entering St. Paul's Church, Paddington, and stealing two chalices and other articles belonging to the wardens of that church having been convicted of felony at North London Sessions on February 6th, 1900, as James Smith. Four other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HARVKY Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended.
WILLIAM BRYANT (831 City.) I was on duty in Pudding Lane on Friday. August 19th, at 10.30 a.m.—I saw the prisoner struggling to get away from two men—looking through the crowd I saw the prosecutor getting to his feet and bleeding from the face—when I looked round again I saw the prisoner going into George Lane—I went after him and took him into custody—the prosecutor was taken to the hospital—at the station this knuckle duster (Produced) was shown to the prisoner—he said. "I found it in the street."
Cross-examined. The prisoner was about ten yards down George Lane when I stopped him—when at the station he was very excited—he was told by a police officer that a knuckle duster had been brought in by a boy—it was then that he said that he must have found it in the street.
GABRIEL LANDAU —I am a fruit salesman of 0, White Street, Butler Street, Houndsditch—I remember going to Pudding Lane on Friday. August 19th at 9.45—I marke I my goods in the catalogue in the fruit sale room there—at 10.20 I was waiting for the sale to commence—the prisoner came to me—I had not spoken to him for a long while—he said. "Is that right, you took my stand"—the stand is in Commercial Street, Spitalfields—I said, "I did not exactly take the stand, it was let to me, and another thing, if it was not let to me it would be let to someone else"—I went to make my way to the room when I was knocked down—I didn't know by whom at first—when I tried to get up the prisoner got hold of me—I cannot exactly tell what he did—he got one hand over me and was hitting me with the other—he was pulled off by three men—he said, "Let me go, I'll kill him"—then I was taken to Guy's Hospital.
Cross-examined. I was never in the prisoner's employment—I was employed by his step-father—the prisoner was only a buyer of goods—about eight years ago I ceased working for his step-father—last Christmas I went into partnership on another stand—the prisoner said he was going to break me in business—after that I would have nothing to do with him—the stand the prisoner had, had been let to me just before the assault—there had been no goods on the prisoner's stand from he Saturday to the Thursday night—I cannot say if the prisoner had been away—on the Friday morning he came to me and said, "Is that right, you have got my stand?"—he lost his stand because he had not paid his told—if he had asked me to let him have the stand back I should have told him I had no authority—I did not say, "The stand belongs to me, now I am the boss'—I did not spit in his face—I did not strike him—he said, "Is that right you took my stand?" he came behind me and knocked me down.
REGINALD AFFLECK GREEVES , M.D. I am assistant house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I remember the prosecutor being brought to the hospital on August 19th—I found him bleeding from three wounds in his face—two were on his forehead not very extensive—one was on his left cheek—his
nose was broken and two front teeth were loosened—he had a contused left eye—they were all bad cuts and required stitching—the wounds were consistent with having been inflicted—by a knuckle duster—I do not think they could be produced by the fist alone—the two wounds on his forehead might have been caused by a fall, but not the one on his cheek—the loosened teeth might well have been caused by the raw knuckles.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor's nose is not now straight and the scars are likely to always remain—the cut on his cheek could not have been caused by the sharp edge of the granite cube—a granite edge would not make such a clean cut—it was impossible to have been so caused in this case because the cut was a straight one and there was no dirt.
JOHN SHEPHERD (706 City.) I remember the prisoner being given into my custody on Friday, August 19th, about 10.30—On the way to the station he said he was sorry he had not done him in properly—a boy called Haynes came up to me and handed me a knuckle duster—I understood him to say he found it close to where the affair had accurred—at the station the prisoner said, "I am sorry I did not smash his eyes in so that he could not see to work any more"—when charged he said, "I did it, I found it in the street."
Cross-examined. The prisoner was very excited—when at the station he put himself in a very great passion.
HENRY HAINES . I am 15 years of age—I live" at 4, Grocer's Court, Dundee Street, Wapping, and am a newspaper seller—I remember being in George Lane on Friday, August 19th, about 10.30—I saw the prisoner come towards me—as he did so I got in the skirmish—he was excited—he happened to place the weapon down my sleeve—I went to see what it was, and this knuckle duster fell out—I picked it up, walked up East-cheap, and handed it over to a policeman who had the prisoner in charge—when I picked the knuckle duster up it was stained with blood.
Cross-examined. The prisoner never passed me; we were all in a line—the first I knew of the knuckle duster being in my sleeve was when it fell out—I did not see. prisoner put it there—it came from my sleeve—he was the only man that had been near me, and therefore he must have put it there.
Re-examined. I left home that morning without a knuckle duster in my sleeve—its the first time I have ever seen one.
WALTER YOUNG . I am a fruit porter, of 12, Sheridan Road, Manor Park—I saw the prisoner bending over the prosecutor, punching him with his right hand—he had his left-arm round his neck—he struck him two or three times—I thought the prisoner had rings on his hand—it had that appearance—his hand was covered with blood—someone came up and stopped him—the prisoner said "Let me alone; let me murder him; he has ruined my wife and children."
Cross-examined. I am quite sure I was in Pudding Lane at 10.20 a.m. that day—I was working for Hill and Grant, of 27, Pudding Lane—I did not attend the police-court the next day—I did not give my name and address to anyone, because I was not asked—I was first asked to go on the Wednesday after by a detective, who came to my foreman—I have
known the prosecutor for eight or nine years—I have made unjust accusations before in drink—I did not sign an apology for having made an unjust accusation against an honest man.
WILLIAM GILL . I am an ironmonger of Arthur Street West, close to London Bridge—I remember selling a knuckle duster on Friday, August 19th, to a man, about 10 or 10.30 a.m.—I have sold similar ones to that produced—the one produced might be the one I sold that morning—I believe prisoner to be the man I sold it to.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear that that is the knuckle duster I sold. I picked the prisoner out from amongst others—he was not then in the company with anyone like him—my shop is about four or five minutes walk from Pudding Lane.
The prisoner, in his defence. on oath, said (hat he was away for two days before August 19th: (hat when he came back he saw (he prosecutor, and said, You have taken my stand away: I have a wife and family to keep: I have never done such a thing to you: I have only been away two days and you went to Mr. Homer and told him I had left"—that the prosecutor said, "I can do nothing for you"—that he said. "You can give me my stand back"—that he prosecutor said "No," and then hit him—that he hit the prosecutor back, and that he did not have a knuckle duster.
Evidence for the Defence.
DA COSTA . I am a fruit salesman—I was present when the row started—the prisoner said to the prosecutor, "'I am going to start work to-morrow, will you find me a little room on your stand?"—the prosecutor said, "I have got the two stands; I am going to keep them"—and he then put up his hands—I saw the prosecutor hit him and spit in his face—I saw no knuckle duster.
Cross-examined. I swear the spitting did not take place in the middle of the scuffle.
JAMES MOYLE . I live at 8. Swan Street, Borough, and am a rent and debt collector—on August 19th I was in Pudding Lane with Da Costa—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor fighting—the prisoner was getting oft the ground; the prosecutor made a rush at him—Da Costa separated them—I saw no knuckle duster—I am certain there was not one—the prisoner had no ring on his hands.
HENRY MAURICE BASS . I am a fruit salesman of Spitalfields Market—I saw the struggle between the prisoner and prosecutor—I cannot swear that prisoner was wearing a knuckle duster—I did not see one—I have known the prisoner for some time, and he has borne the reputetion of being a hardworking respectable man.
The prisoner received a qood character.
GUILTY . Discharged on his own recoganices.
NEW COURT.—Friday, September 16th;, 1904.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill. 698.
MR. BODKIN and MR. SYMMONS Prosecuted; MR. ROOTH Defended.
HERMINE EGGAR . I am the wife of Jacob Eggar—On July 18th I was livinq at 10. Suffolk Street, Poplar, with my husband and three babies—my husband and I were thinking of giving up the house and going back to Hungary—we had advertised in a German paper that our furniture was for sale—on July 18th the prisoner called about 12.30 p.m.—my husband comes to dinner at one, and goes back at 1.30—about 12.30 I was down stairs—I heard a knock and looked out of the window—seeing the man was up stairs I went up, opened the door, and said "What do you want?"—he said "I have seen the advertisement in the paper, you have one suite of furniture for sale"—I said "I have sold some"—he said "I am very sorry; have you more for sale?"—I said "Yes, I have one wash-stand, one chair bedstead, and one single bedstead"—the chair bedstead folds up. and is made of iron—it has cushions—he said "Show me anything and tell me the price"—I showed him the things, and said the bedstead was 25s., the chair bedstead 23s. and the wash stand 3s.—he noted it on a piece of paper in a book—the bedstead and wash stand were upstairs at the top and the chair bedstead on the same floor as the street door—I said. "Come with me in the front room"—we sat on opposite sides oi the table—he said Is there anybody upstairs?"—I said "yes, nice English people"—he said he would like to look over the house, and asked where the landlord lived—I said "I cannot tell you"—he asked for the rent book—I said, "I cannot give you my rent book, my husband has got it"—he said. "If I have your rent book I will find out the landlord: I have a good reference, you please give me the furniture for. "30s."—I said, "I will tell my husband"—about o'clock he said. "I am now busy, I will come back with my wife at half-past 2"—he went upstairs to the first and second floors before my husband came—my clothes were down stairs in a box—in the back room which opens on to the passage whore the front door is there was a basket with my clothes and those of my husband and children which I was going to send to Hungary—he said, "What have you got there?"—I said, "My clothes to send to my mother"—in the basket was £14 in gold—he came again at 2.30 p.m.—my husband had come and gone—I asked, "Where is your wife?"—he said, "I will pay for it, I want to see over the house, and see everything, because my wife is" very particular: are there people upstairs?"—I said, "Yes"—he said. "I do not want the English lady; I want to buy horn you the bedstead; I want to keep a house in Poplar; I like Poplar hotter"—the lodger's wife talked to me in the parlour and went out—the prisoner got on a chair and pulled the curtain to see which way she had gone—he asked where my biggest boy was—I said at school—he said, "You show me the chair bedstead and everything in the house; I want to bee the yard, and the oven, and look in the coal cupboards and every where"—I said. "Come with me"—I had my baby—I put it down;
it cried—he said, "I want first to shut the window"—he shut the window I said to my baby "Don't cry,'" and was putting a cushion for it. when he hit to on (ho head and I fell—I screamed, and said Leave me alone now"—he said, "I will leave you alone, and you do not stream like that"—I received four to six blows on the side of my head—I screamed, and said, "Spare me to my children"—on my pushing the cupboard, he said, "I will kill you first, and then kill your children"—I want to run away—he pushed me. pulled my hair, and I fell against the door—he put a handkerchief in my mouth, and I bit his fingers—he took a sheet from the bedstead, and put it over my head—he was on my back when I was on my side—I kept on struggling—he took a knife from his left coat pocket, and cut my throat—I could say nothing for the blood—I took his knife from him with my left hand, opened the door with my right—the sheet caught my feet, and I left it in the passage—I shut him in with my twelve months old baby, got out at the front door, and screamed for help—a policeman came in about a quarter of an hour and went into the house—some people ran into the house and took my baby into the street—the basket was not touched—the cupboard and box were turned out and blood was on the clothes—a doctor came and attended to me—a week later I found this stone in my fire place in the room where the bedstead was—I had never seen it before—this black handled knife, pen knife, and handkerchief are mine—the white handled knife is the one he tried to cut ray throat with, and I ran with it into the street—it is not mine.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is a complete stranger to me—he remained till about 3 minutes to I—23 minutes—only my two babies were with me—I told him my husband was coming at 1 o'clock—he said he could not wait, he had got very busy—we had sold furniture on the Saturday—it had been removed—very few articles had been left in the house—one bed was not to be taken till we had gone—what was left would require a trunk to remove—the prisoner wore glasses first, hut not afterwards—he was not drunk—he was very nice with me—he said, "I don't want the lodger to see"—I told that to the magistrate—my deposition was read to me—they did not understand me—I cannot remember calling attention to its not being written down, nor that the prisoner said, "I want to see which way the lodger is going"—I made a statement to a clerk at the Treasury before I went to the Police-court—the prisoner said that—no one has spoken to me about it since I gave my evidence—I never said the prisoner asked, "Where is your big boy" till now—I remember it now—I saw no stone in prisoner's hand—I never lost my senses—my table knife was lying on the table—he stabbed me with it, and cut my throat three or four times—little grazes—there was not much blood—I was able to get up—he kicked the back of my hand—and—slid, 'I will kill you first and then your children if you scream like that." and "If not I will leave you alone"—the room door was unlocked—I shut the street door and locked it, and had the key in my pocket when I ran into the street—T next saw the prisoner carried out by the police—my baby was not injured: it was ill at the time.
JACOB EGGAR . I am a cabinet maker at 10, Suffolk Street, Poplar—I put this advertisement in a German newspaper (the translation from the German was: "A suite of furniture, couch, 2 easy chairs, and 6 small chairs with leather covers for sale very cheap, 10, Suffolk Street, Poplar")—I go to work every day and come home to dinner—on July 18th I came in, and left a few minutes before 2—my wife told me something—I was fetched home at 3 p.m.—I found my wife was injured, and a doctor attending her—the prisoner is a stranger.
JOHN GRANT (770 K.) I was on duty on July 18th, about 2.30, in Suffolk Street—I found Mrs. Eggar in Suffolk Street bleeding from wounds in her head and throat, and her clothes were saturated with blood—she had this white handled table knife in her hand, which I took possession of—I sent for a doctor and went into the house—I found the prisoner in the front room of the basement standing in front of the looking glass cutting his throat with a pen knife—as I advanced towards him lie turned and made a blow at me with the knife but did not strike me—then he dropped that knife and picked up this black handled one from the table—I drew my truncheon and struck him across the arm as soon as he had hold of it and that made him drop it—I picked up both knives—I detained him till I got further assistance—I seized him and put him on the couch—he had a very large wound in his throat which bled—I did not notice anything strange with him—a doctor came soon afterwards—his wounds were dressed, "and he was taken to the hospital—a box of clothing had been torn open and its contents thrown about the place, and there was a pool of blood near the fire place where the prisoner stood—I went upstairs into the back room on the ground floor—I found a chair bedstead and some bedclothes smothered in blood and strewn about as if there had been a struggle—a splash of blood was on the cupboard—I found a sheet in the passage that leads to the front door—I found this German newspaper on the prisoner—in the back room down stairs I found these papers burning, and a box of matches.
Cross-examined. The prisoner seemed calm—he is a stranger—he made no resistance when I laid him on the sofa—I bent his head forward to keep the wound in his throat closed as much as possible—I searched him—I found none of Mrs. Eggar's property upon him.
Re-examined. On the envelope in this little book is this entry in English, "Bedstead 23s., washstand 3s." and something else 5s.
MARY NAULLS . I am the wife of William Naulls, of 11, Suffolk Street. Poplar—on July 20th I cleared up the room of Mrs. Eggar's ground floor for her—she was ill, and asked me to do it—I found this handkerchief under the bed—I handed it to the detective—in the front room down stairs I found this box of matches, a little broken, and marked with blood.
HENRY JAMES O'BRIEN . I am Divisional Surgeon and practise at 96, East India Dock Road—about 2.30 on July 18th, I was called to 10, Suffolk Street—I found the prosecutrix was suffering from four scalp wounds on the side and back of her head, three were severe, and she had bruise over her body, a superficial wound across her throat and a small
wound across the third finger of her left hand—she was in a very excited condition and covered with blood—a blunt instrument would have caused the scalp wounds—this stone might possibly have produced three but not the fourth, which is a sharp clean cut, the others are bursts—a sharp instrument might have caused the superficial wound on the throat and on the third finger of the left hand—with regard to the blows on the head considerable violence must have been used—under my care she has partially recovered, but is still suffering from the shock—I examined the woman first, but seeing she was not in danger I ran down stairs and got the man away to the hospital as soon as possible—he had a very severe wound across the front of his throat, four or five inches long—he was lying on his back in a semi-conscious condition—I asked him his name, he shook his head—that was the only reason I thought he understood me, he shut his eyes—I thought the windpipe was cut but the gentleman at the hospital says not—I had only time to examine him superficially.
Cross-examine?. The cut in the prisoner's throat was very deep, especially on the left hand side—his wounds were more severe than those of the prosecutrix—three of her wounds were down to the bone, still not dangerous—the stone was shown me at the Thames Police Court—on examination for blood I found none, nor any hair—the prosecutrix has thick hair—I heard the prisoner's statement that it must have been the heat—I was only with him about five minutes—there was no sign of drinking—he did not smell of drink—I have not seen or read of cases where people lose all self control from the heat—the weather was rather warm—I said before the magistrate that it is improbable the stone caused the blow.
Re-examined. Two of the wounds communicated—if the stone had been used three or four times there would have been blood on the stone.
WILLIAM BROWN (Detective K.) At 8.30 on Angust 5th I arrested the prisoner at the Poplar Hospital—I charged him with an attempted murder on July 18th and an attempted suicide—he said, I quite understand, it must have been the heat; I do not remember anything"—I took him to the station—he was formally charged—he made no reply.
The prisoners statement before the magistrate: "I wish to call witnesses at my trial. I have asked for legal assistance."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said he had suffered from the heat in August; that he had no recollection of what occurred on either visit to the prosecutrix's house; that he had had a blow on the head two days before from a fist, he supposed, and that his father and grandfather had died from excessive drinking. On the advice of his Counsel he stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was guilty of unlawfully wounding.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Twelve months' imprisonment in the Second Division.
MILES PLEADED GUILTY ,
MR. B. A. SMITH Prosecuted.
GUILTY ROWE— Twelve months' hard labour.
MILES— Six months hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, September 16th, 1904.
Before Mr. Recorder.
700. GUISEPPE CORDONI (29) . Unlawfully and indecently assaulting Rose Gale, a girl under the age of 13; Second count, attempting to have unlawful carnal knowledge of her. Indecently assaulting Lucy Beecham, a girl under the age of 13 years, and attempting to have carnal knowledge of her.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. SYMMONS and MR. JENKINS Defended'. GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour.
701. THOMAS MAURICE BUTLER (47) , Unlawfully, and with intent to defraud, within four months next before, of a bankruptcy petition against him disposing of, other than in the ordinary way of his trade, certain property which he had obtained on credit and had not paid for. Second count, transferring the property with intent to defeat his creditors.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger in the Bankruptcy Division of the High Court of Justice—I produce the file in the 'bankruptcy of Thomas Maurice Butler—the receiving order was made on December 22nd, 1903, on a creditor's petition—he was adjudicated bankrupt on January 1st. 1904—his amended statement of affairs was filed on February 4th, 1904—it shows liabilities expected to rank as £2,801 6s. 2d., assets, £70 18s. 9d.; the deficiency being £2,730 7s. 5d.
Cross-examined. I have been about fourteen years connected with the Bankruptcy Court—I did not personally come in contact with the prisoner during the time he was there at the various proceedings, but I heard about his extraordinary behaviour.
ALBERT CHARLES BONHAM . I am a member of the firm of W. and F. C. Bonham, 65. Oxford Street, auctioneers—I know the prisoner—early in October, 1903, he called on me and said, "You remember me, Mr. Bonham, do you not?"—I said, "Well, no, sir, for the moment I cannot say I do;" "Oh," he said, "My name is Butler, you bought some' goods from me seven or. eight or nine years ago"—I said "Oh, yes, I remember you, sir"—he asked me if I would purchase his furniture in the sale way, as I had done previously—I made an appointment to visit his premises, and went to 495, Fulham Road, on October 9th—the premises contained' new and second-hand furniture—I went through the stock with him and offered him £300 for the whole of it, excepting some furniture in two or three living rooms—his reason for disposing of it was that he said he had got mixed up with a married woman
and he anticipated an action would be taken against him, when he might be mulcted in damages—he refused my offer—I returned to our office—In came again the following Monday, October 12th—I told him I did not see the utility of going to see his stock again, but I said I would come with my partner, which I did, on October 10th—we increased our offer finally to £370 which he accepted, and asked us to remove the goods next morning—we did so on the 20th and 21st I think—there were some new pianos among the stock—he was paid on the 24th—a Mansel piano we sold for 18 guineas under the hammer and also a second one for 18 guineas—a Leibitz piano was sold for 15 1/2 guineas, and another for 14 1/2 guineas—prices vary very much at auction.
Cross-examined. I suggest I gave the fair marketable value for these tiling—I have a rough list of the goods, not a complete inventory—I do not know that the price we generally of the works out at 30 or 40 per cent, below cost price—some of the goods were new, probably a fifth or sixth part—I am not aware that over £600 worth were new goods which had been purchased from creditors recently—the consent to the sale took place in the street outside a public-house, I do not know the name of it, but I haw been told it was the "Rising Sun"—I did not spend the greater part of the afternoon with the prisoner there discussing the matter—we had a drink and came out and talked it over, we had engaged a cab and stood on the kerb—I think we had three drinks in the house—I say emphatically the prisoner was sober at the time we agreed on £370—he had a few pounds on account—he was sober then—he did not have the whole of it when he came for it, because he said he was going to the races, and my partner said how inadvisable it would be for him to go there with a large sum of money—it was done out of pure kindness, not because he was not in a condition to receive it—our firm has been established in Oxford Street 111 years—we bought the prisoner's furniture in a similar way some eight years previously.
At this stage the prisoner, in the hearing of the Jury, withdrew his plea, and the Jury returned a verdict of
GUILTY . Dr. Scott stated that he had been asked to report on the prisoner's sanity, and said that he found him only to hare been suffering from the effects of prolonged and heavy drinking. Four days' imprisonment.
FIFTH COURT Friday, September 16th, 1904.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
703. REUBEN CHARLES SMITH (18) , Stealing 24 aprons and other articles, the property of Joseph Phinegar Hemming, his master, and ARTHUR PRISEMAN (33) , Receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen.
SMTTH PLEADED GUILTY .
FREDERICK HUTTON (Detective, City). On August 24 I went to 35), Noble Street, E.C.—I saw Mr. Hemming and Smith—Smith was given into custody for stealing certain articles—with Detective Miller and Mr. Hemming I went to 35, Prince of Wales Crescent, Kentish Town—the house consists of a small draper's shop at the bottom, and occupied privately at the top—in the window Mr. Hemming pointed out certain articles and I went into the shop and saw Priseman—I told him we were police officers and were making inquiries respecting a quantity of goods that had been brought there by a lad named Smith, employed by Mr. Hemming, of 39, Noble Street, City—he said, "I know no Smith"—I told him that articles in his window had already been identified by Mr. Hemming as property that had never been sold by him—he was then charged with receiving the goods, well knowing them to have been stolen—I asked him if he remembered sending a postcard to a lad named Smith—he said. "I sent no postcard," but afterwards he said he did so, saving he would be in the City next day—he then produced a ledger showing two entries—one amounting to £1 19s. 10d. bought from F. Palmer, and another amounting to £3 0s. 1d., bought from Palmer &Co.—he said, "These are the goods; I'll write Smith's name against it."
Cross-examined. At the time he showed those entries the prosecutor had pointed out aprons which he claimed as his own—I have two invoices which Priseman gave me—one "is "A. Priseman bought of J. P. Hemming," and the second "A. Priseman bought of C. Wills & Co."—all the goods seized are not included in the lists—of the goods seized some were in the window and some were hanging up inside and on the door where anyone could see them—I did not see a sealing wax holder—the prosecutor produced it from his pocket after the evidence at the police court had been taken—Priseman, referring to the entries, said, "I put it down here in the name of Palmer, I thought it would be all right"—he did not tell me Palmer was a name he used for cash purchases—when I asked him if he had, sent Smith a post card he hesitated and then said "Yes"—it was immediately after that, that he brought out the ledger and showed me the entries—he said be bought them in the name of Smith and entered them in the name of Palmer—he gave no reason for that.
WILLIAM MILLER (City Detective). On August 24th I went with Hutton to 35, Prince of Wales Crescent—the prosecutor was with us—he pointed-out some aprons and other articles which were in the window and doorway—I went into the shop with Hutton—the prosecutor remained outside—we told Priseman we had a lad named Smith in custody—that he had made a statement that he had sold him aprons and other articles—Priseman said he did not know Smith—Hutton then asked him to whom he had sent a post card yesterday morning—he said. "Yes, I did tell him I was coming to the City"—in his presence the prosecutor identified the property—later on Smith said to Priseman, "You asked me to get the goods, and you know that I stole them and you told me that the firm would not "know"—Priseman said "No, I
did not." and Smith said. "Yes, you did"—both prisoners were then charged—Smith made no answer—Prizeman said "I object."
Cross-examined. A few minutes after Priseman said he bought the aprons from Palmer he produced the ledger—it was against the entry with regard to the aprons that he put the name Smith—he then told me he had bought them from Smith—the sealing-wax holder I saw in Priseman's shop—the prosecutor said "This belongs to me;" it is not in the indictment.
JOSEPH PHINEGAR HEMMING . I am a wholesale merchant of 39. Noble Street, City, and trade as "J. P. Hemming"—Smith has been in my employ about three years as a porter and warehouseman—on August 24th last I missed some things, and I accused Smith of stealing them—after some time he confessed, and I sent for the police—he then made a statement to me and to the police—in consequence I went with two police officers to a shop in Prince of Wales Road, Kentish Town—I saw Priseman there—he also had a small office in the top floor of the building where I carry on business—he did not rent it from me—I believe he was a manufacturers' agent—at his shop I recognised some goods belonging to me—I recognise the goods on this list as being my goods—none of the goods had been sold by my authority to Priseman—the prices marked against them at which they are bought are much lower than the proper price—one article sold at 3s. 6d. should be 6s.—another, 4s. should be 7s. (6d.—the next. 2s. 6d. should be 6s. 6d.—the total for that list is £2 1s. 10d., and it should be nearer £7—some years ago for a short time I traded in the name of "C. Wills and Co."—I never traded under the name of Palmer—I received no money for these goods.
Cross-examined. I am in the wholesale business—it would be very unusual for Smith to sell goods, receive the money, and receipt the invoice—no one has a right to enter my place unless I know who they are—Smith told me he had been selling to other people as well—it was his duty to sell goods over the counter and take the money—I never had dealings with Priseman—he never bought anything of me that I am aware of—I did not know that he had a shop.
Priseman, in his defence on oath, said that he bought the goods from Smith thinking the sale was legitimate: that Smith used to call at his shop for orders which he gave him; that the goods were sent by parcel delivery, and Smith called for the money and receipted the bills; that he had dealt with the prosecutor in other genuine transactions; and that he did not know that he paid low prices for the goods.
J. P. HEMMINGS (Re-examined.)—Some bill heads in the name of "C. Wills &. Co." were left about at my place—they were not being used—Smith would have access to them—I still do business with one customer in the name of Wills—I keep three persons in my employ, a porter, traveller. and packer—Smith had no authority to take orders—his duty was to remain in the warehouse—in certain cases he had authority to take money.
The prisoners were both given good characters.
GUILTY . PRISEMAN— Six months' in the Second Division. SMITH— Four months' in the Second Division.
MR. R. SCOTT prosecuted.
WILLIAM ROWE (674 S.) I was on duty in Edgware Road when I saw the prisoner inside a gate leading to Grove Park—he said he had been there to have a sleep, and had been awakened up by a man riding a bicycle—I went to where he had been lying down and saw a bicycle—he said he bought it from a man in Tottenham Court Road for £5 10s., and was paying for it by instalments—he did not know who the man was—he gave his name as Albert Jackson and his address 8, Nelson Street, Camden Town—it was a false address—when searched 22 cigars and a bunch of keys were found on him—he said the cigars he had won in a raffle—the cigars and keys have been identified by the prosecutor as his property.
WILLIAM GEORGE JOKES . I am a sculptor, and live at Brook Lodge, Hendon—these cigars are similar to those I had at my house—those keys are mine—the articles were safe in my house on August 7th—I missed them the next morning—the cigars were part of six boxes—I did not miss the keys until I was shown them—they are an old set—the total value of the property taken is about £30—I lost a lot of silver—a burglary had been undoubtedly committed at my house—the burglars, I think, got through the billiard-room window—altogether 294 cigars were taken—I don't know the—distance from my house to the place where the prisoner was found.
HENRY HOLLY (65 S.) In consequence of information received on August 8th, I examined Brook Lodge., Hendon—I failed to find, any marks of forcible entry—a door seemed to have been left open for two or three days, judging by its appearance.
ALBERT GREEN (Detective S.). I made exhaustive inquiries to trace the prisoner's home from addresses supplied but failed—after two or three weeks I found his mother—the prisoner's proper name is Mark Benjamin Johnson—his mother is a very respectable person—owing to the state of her health it was not thought advisable to bring her here—the prisoner has been a source of great trouble to her—he has been taken into custody for sleeping out and discharged—he has been away from home since February.
GUILTY of receiving. Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Recorder.
705. GEO. STANLEY (28) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch and other articles and £2 the property of John Gooch; also to stealing a comb and other articles and 4s. 6d., the property of Emily Davis, in her dwelling house: also to stealing a watch and other articles and £2, the property of Charles Barrett, and a watch and other articles, the property of Sidney Barrett, in the dwelling house of Hannah Barrett; having been convicted of felony at Marylebone Police Court on March 21st, 1903, as
(706.) CHARLES KATE (29) to stealing two Gladstone bags and three overcoats the property of Rebecca Burleigh; also to stealing three coats and other articles the property of Felix Anthony De Bossiere; also to stealing an overcoat and two suits The property of John Silvertown. Six months in the second division.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(707.) CHARLES BENJAMIN HENDEN (22) to stealing a gelding the property of Edward Plowman, his master—having been convicted of felony at this Court on September 10th, 1901. One month in the second division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(708.) THOMAS CAPPS (23) , to stealing a pair of boots the property of Samuel Lipman ; having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on January, 6th 1903. Ten other convictions were proved aqainst him. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(709.) ROBERT ENGLEY (38) to having unlawful carnal knowledge of Ethel Maud Engley, a girl between the age of 13 and 16 years; also to indecently assaulting her. Two years' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(710) GEORGE BROWN † (48) to breaking and entering the dwelling house of William Clark, and stealing therein a watch, bracelet, and other articles, his property: having been convicted of felony at this Court on November 18th, 1901. in the name of George Palmer. One summary conviction was proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
711. JOSEPH HUMPHRIES (48), and HENRY LAWRENCE (42) . Feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Payne, and stealing therein 3d. in money, a jacket, and other goods, his property. Second count, receiving the same knowing it to have been stolen. The last count only teas proceeded upon.
HUMPHRIES PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
MARY PAYNE , I am the wife of John Payne, of 94, Western Road Plaistow—on Friday, August 5th, at mid-day, I left the house to take my husband his dinner—it was securely locked, but the window was left open two inches from the top—I was away half an-hour—when I returned I found the gates were wide open, and the kitchen window shut at the top and open at the bottom—I went into the kitchen and missed 3d. from the mantleshelf—I went into my bedroom and missed a green cloth jacket and my husband's trousers—I went into the kitchen again and missed a pair of boots my husband has as a Corporation labourer—I gave information to the police—I know Lawrence—he has not been in my house, but knew where I lived.
DANIEL HUBBARD (683 K'). On Friday August 5th I was on duty in plain clothes in West India Dock Road—I saw the prisoners together—Humphries was carrying a pair of sewer boots—Lawrence this brown paper parcel—it has a lady's jacket inside—there is also a muslin scarf and handkerchief here—Humphries was wearing these trousers—I Saw Lawrence go into a second hand clothier's shop—he came out and went farther down the road, carrying the parcel—I spoke to Humphries and took him to the station and came out and saw Lawrence—I asked him
what he was carrying in the parcel and he said, "It is something I am carrying for my mate"—I said, "Who is your mate?"—he said, You have just taken him inside"—I asked him if he would come to the station with me—he said, "Yes"—I took him to the station—I asked him how he came possessed of the parcel and he said his mate had given it to him to carry—Lawrence said in Humphries presence he had been out with him that morning—Humphries when they were face to face denied that Lawrence was his mate—Lawrence said it was false, he had been out with him all the morning—I charged both prisoners with unlawful possession; subsequently, with breaking and entering and receiving the property, well knowing it to be stolen.
Cross-examined by Lawrence. You followed me down to the station and waited on the other side of the road while I took Humphries in.
Re-examined. Lawrence gave a correct address.
Laurence, in his defence on oath, said that he met Humphries while looking for work, who told him he was trying to dispose of his boots, which he had just got out of his bag, being a seafaring man; that a little further on he said to Humphries, "I may as well carry the pared for you," which he handed to him, and that he never went into a shop with the parcel. In the dock he stated that' he was a respectable man and had worked honestly for the last three years, where upon Mr. Metcalfe called the following evidence:
LAWRENCE NOT GUILTY. HUMPHRIES— Nine months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN prosecuted; MR. GRANTHAM defended. The evidence was interpreted where necessary.
NADIR KIRN . I am a fireman's serang or foreman on board the steamship Pera—I have been employed by the Peninsular and Oriental Company for fourteen years—I have known the prisoner sever or eight years"—I do not know whether he is a Zanzibaree or a Muscat—I am a Punjau-bee—on July 30th, about 6.30 p.m., I was standing on the Pera close to the cookhouse aft alone—several other firemen were sitting on the hatches about as far from me as I am from the prisoner—Nazam Deen was a Pera fireman, and Maddad at Pateli was from the Peninsula, but he left and joined the shore staff—the deceased was sitting on the corner of the hatch with his face towards the water—as I was coming up the deck behinds the deceased I saw the prisoner strike him with a knife on the left side of his neck—he was still sitting—the prisoner stood behind
him—he was alone—when the deceased was struck he rose and went the distance of the middle of this court and fell—the prisoner immediately turned and left the ship—I saw him leave the ship, and called out Dewan Ali is murdered"—he went down the same gangway by which he came—no one spoke to him or offered any injury to him—the knife was in his right hand when he struck the deceased, who said no word at all—the second officer and the quarter master arrived on the scene—there had been no disturbance that evening—after the deceased was struck there was a lot of fighting on the ship, the whole crew turned out—the fighting commenced, and was confined to the firemen's quarters of the Pera—there were between 30 or 40 Seedees from the Arcadia, and 31 Punjaubees of my ship—T saw the Seedees come on board—the serang followed the prisoner when he left the ship—the Seedees came up as the prisoner went down the gangway—they met on the gangway—I looked from my ship and saw the prisoner on shore—I took no part in the fight I am a serang, why should I?—neither did Deen or Pateli—I occupied my time principally in talking to the officer of the ship and the police, and in describing what I had seen taking place—I did not see any iron bars used; I saw sticks in the hands of some, and the knife in the prisoner's hands—I know Sulisman Hassam—he has been with me 12 months—he was not ill that evening—I do not know where he was then; his berth was aft—I did not go and talk to him in his bunk—Sergeant Condon was one of a number of men who came to me—Deen and Pateli spoke to me—I left the ship with Deen. Pateli and Condon—I went on board the Arcadia, where I saw the prisoner—we all saw him at the same time—he was by himself—he was brought by the police from the forecastle—when I saw him on the deck of the Pera he had blue trousers and coat the same as mine, and a Christian cap with a peak—the knife he had was not a shutting knife, but a fixed knife, and about this length (Pointing to about the middle of his arm).
Cross-examined. I saw the Seedee boys come on the Pera—I was watching the gangway all the time they were coming on board, from the time they first came in sight—they came in a group as thick as the gang" way would permit them—they all passed No. (5 hatch, where the deceased and I were sitting—there is only the galley between their quarters and the hatch—there is no number, letter or marks on the prisoner's brother's bunk—it is not the first bunk; there are others before Sulisman Hassam's bunk—I did not say that Sulisman Hassam left the Pera at Malta, nor that 30 Seedee men were on deck when the blow was struck—I have said they wore in the forecastle—I do not know how the prisoner got his injuries (The prisoner's arm was in a stint)—I did not see it—I saw Collins come on board—the man who struck the deceased did not come into the firemen's quarters.
NAZAM DEE . I am a fireman on the s.s. Pera—I have known the prisoner for four years—on July 30th, about 6.30, I was on the main deck of the Pera eating my food with Maddad Ali and Nadir Kirn—the deceased was sitting on the corner of the hatch with others—I saw the
Seedee boys come on board—the prisoner was followed by about thirty other men—they were all in a gang—in their hands were sticks—the prisoner went up behind and struck the deceased, who was sitting—he not up. went a few steps, and fell—the Seedee boys went into the firemen's quarters and had a row—they passed behind the prisoner—when the deceased was struck they had gone into the firemen's quarters—there was fighting on board after the blow was struck—I saw the prisoner leave the ship—the fighting had finished then—I only saw the prisoner use the knife in the fight with the deceased—he simply struck him, that is all—it was a wood handled knife about that length—(Pointing to a little above the wrist)—the police came and spoke to us—the prisoner was wearing clothes like mine (dark blue) and a Christian cap with a short peak—I went with one of the police to the Arcadia and saw the prisoner brought by the police from his quarters—he was dressed in different clothing then—he had on the ordinary Indian loin cloth.
Cross-examined. I was sitting about the middle of No. 6 hatch, and about six feet from deceased facing the gangway—he was struck here (Pointing to the left side of his neck)—Sulisman Hassam was on the Pera that evening—I do not know whether he was in his bunk—I do not know how the prisoner was wounded on his right arm—he was not struck in my presence.
ALI PATEL . I am a foreman on the shore staff of the P. and 0. Co.—about 6.30 p.m. on July 30th, I was on the main deck of the Pera sitting down with Nazam Deen, Nadir Kirn, and the deceased, when thirty or forty Seedees came on board—the prisoner was the last one—he was with the others—the Seedees went into the firemen's quarters—the prisoner going by the deceased struck him with a knife—I ran away—I did not see any other fighting—I saw the Seedees with sticks in their hands.
Cross-examined. I had not seen the prisoner before that afternoon—I went on the Arcadia with the police, who walked up to the prisoner—a man hit the prisoner on the arm.
ARTHUR COLLIN . (Constable 82, Royal Albert Docks.) At 6.30 p.m., on July 30th, I went on board the P. and 0. ship Pera, about a mile from the P. and 0. ship Arcadia—I saw three men coming down the quay with the prisoner, who was second, turning up the gangway of the Pera with them—three or four natives followed—one or two had sticks—I saw the prisoner full face as he came down the quay and turned up the gangway—the four men were Zanzibaree of Seedee boys—they turned to the left on the ship to go aft—I turned to the right to go forward, where I was detained four or five minutes on business—whilst I was in conversation with an officer a disturbance arose—the sounds coming from the after part of the ship I went there—arriving at the native quarters I saw the deceased stagger about seven yards and fall on the deck—I parted the combatants as far as I could—there were about thirty altogether—I succeeded in stopping the fight with the assistance of the ship's officers—I then went to the deceased's assistance—he was at his last gasp—I did not see the prisoner then—the man died within a minute or so—a doctor was quickly on the scene—sticks and iron bars
were being used in the fight—I saw an iron bar close against the hatch near the gangway on the deck.
Cross-examined. I had not seen the prisoner before—his cap appeared to be round as he went up the gangway, similar to what he has on now, and which the Seedee men wear—I do not remember if he had his arm bound up—afterwards I saw his arm was done up in a sling.
Re-examined. When the deceased fell the row was going on in the native quarters.
JOHN' CONDO . (Detective Royal Albert Docks Police.) I went on board the Pera at 7 p.m. on this Saturday evening—I saw lying on the deck the dead body of the deceased—I then want to the Arcadia, which was about a mile off—I received from three Punjaubees some information and a description—I found the prisoner in his quarters on the Arcadia—I said to him, "Have you been away from your ship to-day I"—he said "Yes, I have been aboard another ship, plenty bothery, and I come away"—he was then taken into custody—accompanied by the three Punjaubees I took him to the station—he threw himself on the deck as I was removing him, and I had to bring a little force to bear upon him in order to get him to the station—on arrival there I found he had been injured behind his left ear: it was not of a serious character, but he had a severe bruise on his elbow: I did not notice his hand—at the station I told him he would be charged with striking a man with a knife in the neck—he said "Me no jura got," meaning that he had no knife—the three Punjaubees had given a description of the man who they said was the deceased assailant—they told me he was wearing European clothes, gave me the name, and told me what he was, and the ship he belonged to, and that they had known him several years both in this country and in their own—he appeared as if he had been having a wash—he had no blue trousers or coat on like ship's engineers wear or peak cap—he was wearing Dungaree clothes and not European—lie had several clothes in his box—he-had a round cloth cap—the one he has on was in his box it has no resemblance to an English peak cap—he had no knife—I have not been able to discover that he had any knife on that day—he swore before the Coroner that he did not know the deceased man—I have no reason to doubt that.
Cross-examined. I found the prisoner had been in the P. & 0. Service "30 years, and had risen from the bottom to become senior serang, and that he has the best of characters.
The Jury at this stage intimated they had heard sufficient in the absence of stronger evidence, and returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
713. EDWARD GILBERT (28) PLEADED GUILTY . to having been in possession at night without lawful excuse of housebreaking instruments, having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford on April 6th, 1904. Twelve months' hard labour.
714. FREDERICK BECKETT (15), ALBERT TOWERS (19), and DENNIS DRISCOLL (17), PLEADED GUILTY . to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Alfred Hollingsworth, and stealing therein two pairs of boots, his property. BECKETT and DRISCOLL also to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Rees Thomas Jones, and stealing therein a razor, two handkerchiefs, and ten shillings in money, his property, and two brooches, and other articles belonging to Esther Wickham. DRISCOLL, having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford Assizes, on February 24th, 1904. One previous conviction was proved against him— Six months hard labour. BECKETT, who recited a good character, dis-chanted on his own recognisances. JOWERS— Four months" hard labour.
RICHES PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. LOVIBOND. Prosecuted.
SAMUEL RADLEY . I am a general dealer of 20, Kings Street, Walthamstow—I know Riches, who was employed by a Mr. Davis, a general dealer—On July 31st I had a horse at my stable in Ashford Road, Walthamstow—I saw that it was safe between 10 and 10.30 p.m.;-but on going to the stable next morning I found that the door had been forced open and the horse gone—in consequence of something I had heard, on August 8th I went to Green Yard, Walthamstow, and identified a horse mine—it is worth about £10—I do. not know Wright.
WILLIAM PALMER . I am a carpet layer, of 25, Ashford Road, Walthamstow—about 12 p.m. on July 31st I was sitting in my front garden, which is opposite Radley's stable, when I saw Riches come to the stable door and try the lock two or three times, and go away again to a little club at the corner of the street—he came back and tried the lock again, and then walked to the top of the road—he then came back again and succeeded in bursting the lock open—he walked into the stable and pulled the horse out behind him and led it by the halter up the first turning to the left—I was shown a horse outside the Stratford Police-court which I identified as the one I saw taken.
THOMAS FERGUSON .(159 J.) I am stationed at Hackney—at 12.30 a.m. on August 1st, I saw the two prisoners in a cart, Riches driving towards London without a light—I stopped them, and asked Riches where his light was—Wright said, "He is the guv'nor, Mr. Davis. Shout at him as he is deaf, "indicating Riches—I shouted at Riches to know what his name and address was, and he said, "William Davis, 25,' Sou'h Grove, Walthamstow," which was the name and address of the owner on the cart—I asked him where his lamp was, and Wright said, "We had a Chinese lantern. We pulled up at the Hare and Hounds and someone stole it"—I then allowed them to goon—in consequence of instructions, I arrested Wright at the Wharf, Lea Bridge, telling him I should take him into custody for being concerned with another man in stealing a horse and art from Walthamstow, and he replied, "Oh, the horse and cart? I was in the cart with Riches I'll own, but he was taking me for a ride"—I then took him to the station and charged him,
to which ho said, "I can prove where I slept on that night. I met Riches at a coffee stall."
Cross-examined by Wright. Your mother lives at Lea Bridge, but you do not.
BENJAMIN HOPKINS . I am a pig dealer and occasionally deal in horses—I lived at Old Oak Lane, East Acton—at 9.30 a.m. on August 1st I was in Latimer Road, Notting Hill, when I saw Riches, whom I had never seen before, standing in front of the Pavilion public house with a horse and trap—in consequence of what he told me. I bought the horse for £2—in consequence of what I heard later, the same morning I took the horse round to the police station.
WILLIAM SNELL .(27 N.R.) At 10 a.m. on August 1st, I was on duty in North Pole Road, Notting Hill when I saw Riches drive a horse and cart to the Pavilion with a man, whom I believe to be his brother, and his young woman, and go inside the public house—I went away and came back 20 minutes later and saw another man in the shafts, and Riches pulling the cart behind, but no horse—the harness was inside the cart—I questioned him, and as a result of his answers, took him in charge—the name had been taken oft the cart—I charged him with unlawful possession—I searched him and found on him 30s. in gold, a half-penny, and a padlock key—when we got to the station Hopkins was already there with the horse, which I identified.
JOHN LE .(Detective.) In consequence of instructions received, on August 2nd I went to the West London Police Court and saw Riches—I took him into custody and took him to Walthamstow—he made no reply when charged—on August 10th I charged Riches and Wright with being concerned in stealing a horse, cart and harness—Wright said, "I shall get ten years for this; it will be for something the next time I come here"—Riches said. "I am not going to put up with the lot of it; he knows all about it; he copped me when I was drunk"—he said also that he would speak when he got to the Old Bailey.
Cross-examined by Wright. You did not say anything with regard to the conduct of the police.
JOHN RICHE . I have pleaded guilty to stealing the horse and cart on the night of July 31st—Wright asked me if I knew where to get a horse and cart, and I said, "No"—he said, "How about Sam Radley's horse I'"—I said, "I do not know"—We both went together into Radley's stable and took the horse out; while Wright held it I took a cart and harness out of Bill Davis' yard, and we both harnessed the horse—we both went down Lea Bridge Road for a ride when we were stopped by a constable for having no light—from there I went on to Notting Hill, where I saw Hopkins, whom I have never seen before—Wright was waiting for me at Lea Bridge Road—I asked Hopkins £5 for the horse, but he said he would give me £2 for it and take it for what it was, and I sold it to him—Wright and I spent the money between us—he came up about one hour after I sold it—I did not intend to steal it.
morning I found it gone—I called on Wright at 11 a.m. on that day and said, "Mead, where is my lot"—he replied, "I do not see why I should stand the blame of it. Sammy (Riches) has got it"—I then went to the Lea Bridge Road Police Station and gave information—the next time I saw my trap was at Notting Dale in charge of the police.
Cross-examined by Wright. I did not see you before 11 o'clock that morning—you did not tell me that Riches told you that I had lent him the horse and trap.
SAMUEL RADLEY . (Re-examined.) I saw Wright with Davies on the Monday—Wright was pointed out to me, and I told him about my horse going, and he said, "I am not going to stand the blame of it; Riches got the horse and cart."
Cross-examined by Wright. It was outside the Prince of Wales public house about 11a.m. on the Monday that you were pointed out to me.
Wrights statement before the Magistrate: "I desire to make a voluntary statement. On August 1st I was in the Lea Bridge Road about midnight, and called at the coffee stall which stands near Lea Bridge and had a cup of coffee, when John Riches drove up to the stall and had some refreshment. He informed me that his master had lent him his horse and cart to go over to Hammersmith to see his mother, as it was a holiday. I thought, of course, that it was the truth. He asked me to have a ride. Two police officers stopped me, having no light. I told them Riches was the guv'nor. They then asked him for his name and address, and he told them it was on the cart, and they copied it down. As it was near home I said 'Good-night,' and went to where I live, Acton. William Davis and Samuel Radley came to me and asked if I had seen anything of John Riches, as he had stolen a cart and harness. I told them all I saw."
NOT GUILTY .
RICHES then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on September 9th, 1902. Four previous convictions were proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. WARBURTON and MR. COTES PREEDY. Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended.
ELIZA WONHAM . I am the wife of James Wonham. of 208, Osborn Road. Forest Gate—the prisoner has been living with us for fifteen" Years as an adopted son—we employed him as a house decorator—on August 14th I placed £53 in gold in a canvas bag in the bottom of a Washstand jug on my washstand in my bed-room, covered over with some crochet work—at 9 a.m. on August 15th, before leaving home, I went to see whether it was all right, and it was quite safe—I left home between 11 and 12 a.m., and returned home at 3.45 p.m.—I left the prisoner at home—an hour or so later I missed the bag—on the same afternoon I missed a Kit bag, and the next day a pair of opera glasses—when I came back on the afternoon of the 15th, I found the place in disorder, and the prisoner and his clothes had gone—I gave information
to the police—the prisoner did not tell me he was going away—he would have access to my room—the money was for paying rates on the following morning—I have not seen any of it again.
Cross-examined. He was employed to decorate my own property—he has been known as Thomas Wonham—he got regular wages—the kit bap with some clothing belonged to my brother-in-law and had been detained in an hotel in Villa Street as he had not paid his bill—I asked the prisoner to fetch it—he did not say he would not go, and I did not say You are very stupid. The clothes will all fit you, and you can have the clothes and bag as well"—this happened two or three years ago—he has not worn any of the clothing since—the field glasses were bought at an auction room—I did not buy them for the prisoner, nor did I tell him that I had—on the Friday previous to my missing the £50 I told him that if he did not give up his drinking habits and keep better hours he had better find fresh lodgings—it was on the Friday previous to that that there was a row about his refusing to do certain work—I have never told him to clear out—there was some jewellery of mine in his room which was not missing—I do not remember his calling my attention to £2 15s. which I had left in his room—I was instrumental in getting sureties for his bail when he was committed for trial.
Re-examined. I am sorry to see him in this position—this is the second time this sort of thing has happened.
MARGARET FINCH . I am the wife of George Finch, of 208, Osborn Road, and the mother of Eliza Wonham—my daughter went out between 11 and 12 a.m. on August 15th, leaving the prisoner, my husband, and myself in the house—I saw him about the house, and on one occasion on the landing by my daughter's bedroom—at 2 p.m. he went out, as he said, to get some tobacco—he returned, but I did not see him again that day.
Cross-examined. I only know him from having visited the house for about eight-years—I have frequently seen him in and out of the rooms—I am a little deaf—I heard nobody in the house.
GUY MERCER . Detective Sergeant). From information, received on August 15th I made certain enquiries, and on August 16th I went 88, Melford Road, Leytonstone, where I saw the prisoner—he was at the top of the stairs, and he said, I think you want to see me. Come up"—I went up and said,': I am a police officer, and shall arrest you for stealing £53 in gold, a Gladstone bag, and a pair of field glasses, the property of Eliza Wonham," to which he replied, "I own I took the bag, but I never took the money. All the money I took was 10s. 9d. out of the rents I collected last Saturday"—I looked round he room, and found these field glasses (Produced) in a cupboard, and I said Whose are these?"—he made no reply—the landlord, who was there, said, "They must be yours, Tom; they do not belong to me"—the prisoner said, "I took the glasses as well"—I took him to the station. where he was charged, on which he laughed—he was searched, and 5s. (id. in silver and 5 1/2 d. in bronze was found on him—the bag that was found in his room was full of clothes—at the station, with reference to
the bag, he said, "I was going to send it back after I had taken away my clothes."
Cross-examined. During the course of the investigation he said that the field glasses had been given to him as a present—I went to Melford Road three times and asked for "Tom Wonham," but each time I was told he was out; but I knew that not to be so, as I had kept the place under observation—his clothing was all over the place; I cannot say whether it had been taken out of the bag or not.
Re-examined. The last time I went there I was sure he was inside, and I cautioned the landlord, who then said, "Come in, he is here."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said (hat he had left owing to a dispute about some work: that he took the bag as he considered it to be Ins own property, he having fetched it at Mrs. Wonham's request from an hotel where it had been kept for an unpaid bill; that Mrs. Wonham gave him the bag and the clothes that it, contained; that he took the field glasses as they were his own property, briny given to him by Mrs. Wonham, who had bought them at an auction for 10s. 6d.: but that he had not taken the £53.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
717. WILLIAM ALFRED CARTER (22) , Feloniously stealing a gold watch and other articles, the property of the Right Honourable William Earl Selborne, and others, being the Commissioners executing the office of Lord High Admiral of the United Kingdom.
MR. C. W. MATHEW and MR. ARNOLD WARD. Prosecuted.
THOMAS JOLLIFFE . live at 33, Blisset Street, and am employed by the Green wich Borough Council—on December 8th, 1900, I was Senior Yeoman of the Painted Hall of the Royal Naval College, Greenwich—the Hall then was open to the public on week days from 10 to 4, and on Sundays from 2 to 4—I remember some glass cases in the Hall, but cannot describe the contents—I remember they contained relics of Lord Nelson—when I left the Hall on December 8th the glats cases were all right—I superintended the locking up, and returned the keys of the Hall to the police at the gates—I have seen the watch and seal produced here, and am of opinion it is the watch from the Nelson case, but I cannot swear to it, as I have never handled it.
EDWARD ROLF . (214, Woolwich Dockyard.) On Saturday, December 8th, 1900, I was on duty from 2 to 8 p.m. at the West Gate of the Royal Naval College, and received the keys from Jolliffe—I placed them in the key press just inside the lodge—they hang on a hook—the key press was locked and the key placed in the Inspector's office—during the time I was there the keys were not touched—I handed the custody of the keys over to Charles Keats.
College—the keys of the Hall were in the press and were safe during that time.
WALTER JOHNSON . Police Sergeant 7, Woolwich Dockyard.) On December 8th, 1900, I was on duty at the Royal Naval College from 10 p.m. to 0 a.m.—the keys of the Painted Hall were quite safely locked up in the key press during that time—I was relieved by Milne.
JAMES MILNE . (202, Woolwich Dockyard.) On December 9th, 1900.I was on duty at the West Gate of the Royal Naval College from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m.—the keys of the Painted Hall during that time were in the key press quite safe.
FRANCIS KIRBY . (134, Woolwich Dockyard.) On December 9th. 1900. I was on duty at the West Gate, Royal Naval College, at 2 p.m.—I took the keys of the Painted Hall from the key press and handed them to Edward Spinks, Yeoman of the Painted Hall—at 2 o'clock on Sunday the Hall is opened to the public—Spinks is now dead.
WILLIAM BELL . I live at 24, Chigney Road, and am Senior Yeoman of the Painted Hall, Royal Naval College—in December, 1900. I was employed there—on Sunday, December 19th, 1900, I opened the door of the Painted Hall, about 1.33 or 1.30—Spinks brought me the keys from the police at the West Gate—he went up the Hall and called me—I rushed up, and saw the glass of the glass case which had held the Nelson relics broken—the side had been lifted of on to three chairs so that the contents could be taken out—there was another case which contained the relics of Admiral Sir Thomas Lewis also broken—there were several things missing, I immediately noticed that the watch and seven medals were missing—I have seen the watch produced here and believe it to be the identical one, also the seal.
Cross-examined by the "prisoner. I do not remember seeing you in the Hall or in the vicinity of it, but you might have been there.
By the Court. Many thousands of persons visited the relics.
WILLIAM BURCH . Police Sergeant.) I was at New Scotland Yard on July 1st, 1904, about 2 p.m., when the prisoner came and said to me, I have come to give you some information about the Nelson relics that were stolen some years ago"—I asked him his name—he said, "W. Carty"—I said, "C-a-r-t-y"—he said, "Yes"—I took him to Chief-Inspector Arrow and took down a statement which he made—he could see what I was writing—when I commenced to write he said, "Put down 'Carter,' not 'Carty'"—this is the statement: "W. A. Carter, sailor, City of Agra, Woolwich, says:—I have come to New Scotland Yard of my own free will to give information for the recovery of the Lord Nelson relics stolen from the British Museum. I have been cautioned that anything I say may be used in evidence against myself. The above is my name and the last ship. I have been shown a letter dated. "3.2.04 from the Sailors' Home, Melbourne, containing sketches of a watch and seal, and I say that the letter was written by me, and I made the sketches. I can only repeat what is in that letter. I have possession of the watch and seal referred to in the letter. They are in my luggage in a room I occupy in the Victoria Road,
near Woolwich. The house is kept by a widow who lets two rooms. Her daughter is a dressmaker. I occupy one of the two rooms, and the other one is occupied by two other sailors. I am paying a dollar a week. I saw a notice up 'Lodgings to Let' (last Monday), and I took the room. I was paid off a Norwegian barque City of Agra last Friday at Hamburg. I produce my discharge I came from Hamburg by the Iris to Cotton's Wharf, London Bridge, arriving last Monday morning. I went by train to Fenchurch Street to Customs House, then I walked down the Victoria Dock Road towards Woolwich for about ten minutes, and then I came to the house where I am living. I say I got possession of the watch and seal as stated by me in the letter. Besides what I have got (the watch and seal) I have seen a medal; it was in possession of the man from whom I took the watch and seal; it was one of the Nelson relics stolen from the British Museum. I have also seen a snuff-box, a gold one. It is in the possession of a man at Melbourne who has befriended me, and I won't give him away. I could get it if I went out there for it. He is a receiver out there, but keeps a tobacconist shop as a blind. I refuse to say what his name is. The man that I took the watch and seal from told me that he was one of a crowd that got some stuff away here, and that was his share. I met him in Flinder Street, Melbourne, and I believe he left on the Borealis three days after I left, and that was on the 18th February, for Newcastle, New South Wales, and thence to Eureka, California. He signed on in the City of Agra with me, but backed out of his contract. I don't know his name. I won't describe him. I have seen nothing else except the watch and seal which I have, and the snuff-box and medal which I believe are in Melbourne. The medal may be with the man who has gone to Eureka. I was staying at Woolwich about five years ago. I have been through Greenwich, but I don't know Greenwich, and I don't know Greenwich Hospital. I have never been in the Greenwich Hospital to my knowledge. I did not know the Nelson Relics were stolen from the Greenwich Hospital. I thought they were stolen from the British Museum. That's why I wrote to the British Museum this statement has been read over to me by Chief Inspector Arrow, and it is perfectly true. William Alfred Carter. Witness: William Burch, Sergt,"
THOMAS EVAN . Police Inspector, Royal Naval College.) I was on duty at the College on December 8th and 9th, 1900, as Inspector in charge of the College—the keys of the Painted Hall remained in the police custody from 4 o'clock on Saturday, the 8th, to 2 o'clock Sunday, the 9th—I was called, on the afternoon of the 9th, to the Painted Hall, where I found two cases forced open—the one on the left had been forced by the lid and the lock; as to the one on the right, the screws of the left panel had been withdrawn, the panel removed and put across three chairs which had been placed on the left side of the case, with the glass smashed—I found five articles missing from one case and 13 from the other, the bigger case, which was the Nelson case, including this watch and seal—I had often seen them—these are the same—I found a nail and knife which had been used for forcing the lid—I examined the window
and found on the sill a chair—I found the cord of the ventilating window had been cut and the cord Listened round a cleat; also a rope.
Cross-examined. I said at the Police Court that the rope belonged to the premises—some work had been carried on, and the rope had been left on the roof of the pantry.
FRANCIS EDWIN ELLI . I am a photographer at Streatham—I remember the publication of a book called "Nelson and his Times," in 1898, I think—I illustrated it—it was published by Messrs. Eyre and Spottiswoode—I photographed the Nelson Relics in the book, and for I hut purpose visited Greenwich Hospital, by permission—I produce the negative and also a print—I have compared the negative with the watch in Court, also the seal, and say they are the same.
WILLIAM JOHN BARTLETT . I am an assistant at Greenwich Hospital, and produce an impression of a seal in sealing wax which I have had quite fifteen years—I compared it with the Nelson seal years ago. And always believed it to be the impression of the seal—I have seen the seal through the exhibition case and consider it is the same—the seal produced corresponds with the impression—I have not had another impression made from this seal.
GEORGE SADLER . I live at 39. Thorpath Road, Wandsworth, and am foreman bootmaker at the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich—I recognise the prisoner—he was employed by my employer, Mr. Lee, as an army bootmaker for about six or seven weeks—he earned about 4s. a day.
Cross-examined. You were there while I was there—I cannot say whether you were there before me, because I was not working in the same shop—I was not foreman bootmaker at that time, I was then a journeyman.
ALICE TUCK . I am the wife of Ernest Tuck, and live at 293, Victoria Dock Road—I know the prisoner—he lodged with me in December, 1900—he stayed about twelve days—he went by the name of, I think. McCarthy—he left me saying he was going to Australia by the Carameer—I next saw him on June 27th, 1904; he came and took lodgings; he did not give any name; no one interfered with his luggage till Inspector Arrow came.
JAMES CARTE . I live at 17, Hilda Road, Plaistow, and am an engine litter—the prisoner is my son—he was a shoemaker and dock labourer—before August. 1900, he was in a position to earn his living casually—he was a shoemaker at the Woolwich Arsenal between, I think, August and December, 1900—he left this country on December 21st, 1900—I next saw him in June or July this year—some part of the time between bis leaving Woolwich Arsenal and his going to Australia he lived with me.
Cross-examined. You did some shoemaking on my premises.
AUBREY PRETTEJOHN . I am manager of the passenger department of Shaw. Savill and Co., 34. Leadenhall Street—I produce the passenger bookings of the ship Caramerr. which sailed on December 21st. 1900 from London for New Zealand—she stopped at Hobart—the name of Wm. McCarthy appears on the slip, seaman, aged 21, address 293. Victoria Dock Road. Customs House—£10 was paid as deposit for the passage on
December 12th, 1900. and the balance of £10 15s. 9d. was paid on the 17th. making a total of £20 15s. 9d.; that was third class; the passage was booked for Melbourne—on February 9th the passenger was transhipped to another vessel at Hobart.
AMOS WIGHTMAN . I am a clerk to the G.E.R. Co. at their Custom House Station booking office—I recognise the bag produced in this case—it was deposited at our cloak room on June 17th, 1904, about 11.30a.m., in the name of Carter—I have a faint recollection that the prisoner is the man who came with it, but I cannot swear to him—I took the bag in—we have never parted with it—it was in the possession of the police from last session—it was handed to them when inquiries were made.
CHARLES ARROW . Chief Inspector.) These Nelson relics were stolen between December 8th and 9th, 1900, probably on the 9th—the theft of them was followed by the offer of a reward dated December 11th by the Chief Commissioner of Police—amongst the articles set out in the list of stolen property was a watch and seal stated to have been worn by Lord Nelson—on March 25th, 1904, a letter was handed to me signed "Eucalyptus," purporting to come from the Sailors' Home at Melbourne—it was sent to the Melbourne police and then to the Metropolitan police by the Admiralty—this is it, "Sir, I believe you were relieved some years ago of the custody of Lord Nelson's relics. Among the relics was Nelson's watch. I am led to believe that I have the identical watch in my possession. I will tell you how I came by it. Some time ago a sailor accosted me in Flinders Street. He appeared to be in an intoxicated state. I, wishing to save him from trouble with the police, offered to escort him to his ship. He said he had no ship at the time, and was in a penniless condition. I gave him a shilling and bid him good-bye. Three days after I saw him loafing round the docks. He did not recognise me, so I thought I would make myself known. He said he had a slight recollection of someone giving him a shilling. One thing led on to another. We proceeded down the docks, he presumably seeking employment. After sometime had elapsed I consulted my watch, and remarked that it had stopped. I asked him if he had any idea of the time. He said he had a watch, but, it was not in working order. He produced the watch for my inspection. I then asked him if he wished I to dispose of it. He said he Would not pare with it under any consideration. This acted as a bait to my covetousness. I was determined. to got it. With that purpose in view I plied him freely with liquor. Thinking. I presume, that he had found a friend in need. he commenced. according to Australian slang, to come his gut. 'He began telling me some of his expeiences in England. I judged by the general drift of his conversation that he had sailed his hand it) crime. I hinted as much, and he admitted that he had been connected with some daring thefts in England I and America. He began to specify some of them; one of them was he theft of Nelson's relics. I asked him if the Witch was one of them. Seeing. I guess, that he was committing himself, he said No. I said nothing but thought a lot. I shall not describe
how I obtained the article. However, I think the means justified the end. I will now describe the watch as well as I can. I was informed by a jeweller in Bourke Street that it bore the old George mark, and could not be under 100 years old. It is rather larger than a lady's, but bulky. It is of very thick gold. At the back of the outside case is inscribed the stern of an old man-of-warsman, probably of the time of Elizabeth—It has written across the stern 'San Josef.' The hours are marked with ordinary figures. It has attached to it a small gold slip ring with a seal of some red stone and a common watch key (common). The seal portrays a woman holding a snake in the right hand extended. (The following is a rough sketch of the watch). If all the above should tally with the lost relic you will kindly let me know. You will address communications to 'Eucalyptus,' General Post Office, Melbourne, To be called for. I expect to receive a fair reward if this is the right one. I took it to a dealer in antiques and he said that I could easily obtain £100 for it. The case is fully worth £10 for the gold alone. I might add that it would be foolish to communicate this to the police, as I would have it destroyed. Should you feel inclined to get it back without undue publicity and fuss the best way is through the curator or head of the Melbourne Museum. By sending a full description of the relic and a promise not to prosecute with £120 to 'he Director of the Museum, you will probably get it back.—Yours, etc. Eucalyptus. Curator, British Museum"—about 2.30, on July 1st, 1904, I was at Scotland Yard, and received a communication from Sergeant Burch, which was followed by the prisoner's introduction into my presence, and his making a statement which was taken down—"t was afterwards read over to him, and signed by him—I showed him the letter just read, and he said it was his—he then said he would go with me and point out the house in Victoria Dock Road that he referred to; we went in a cab—on the way he said, "I will point out my lodging to you, but it is no good your gong there, someone came to Scotland Yard with me, and I told him if I was detained to go back to my room and get the relics"—as we got to the house, he pointed out 293, Victoria Dock Road, saying, "That is where I lodge"—I took him to Canning Town Police Station, and Sergeant Burch and I went to the house—we saw Mrs. Tuck, and she pointed out his room and luggage, but we found nothing there—I returned to Canning Town Police Station, and said to the prisoner. "I have searched your room and luggage: I am satisfied it is as you left it this morning, but there are no relics there; I must detain you, and charge you with being concerned in stealing and receiving the Nelson relics in December, 1900"—he said at once. "I can prove an alibi: I left England in 1899 for Australia, and have been there ever since; if you charge me you will never get them back, but if you let me go and give me a written undertaking that I shall not suffer in any way, I can produce them"—I said. "I cannot undertake the responsibility of releasing you, and I can prove you did not leave England in 1899; I have reason to believe you were in London when the robbery was committed, and left soon after"—we then took him to
Greenwich Police Station, where he was formally charged—he said nothing in reply—I then caused a special inquiry to be made at all Railway Stations and Sailors' Homes to trace luggage deposited on the Monday, the day he landed at the London Docks, and I traced in deposited at Fenchurch Street Railway Station and taken out the same day a Gladstone bag and a trunk—I found the trunk at his lodgings, but no bag—a bag at the Customs House Railway Station in the name of Carter was reported to me. and I went there on July 4th, and it was produced to me—I opened it, and inside it, among other things, on the lining, was '"W. A. Carter," and some music with "W. A. Carter" on, and I found also this concertina in a locked box—I unlocked it with a key that I found upon the prisoner, and in it found this concertina in good playing order—nothing shook inside—I took off the top and in it found the watch case and seal—on taking that out I was able to see the face of the watch at the other end—the prisoner was brought up at the police court and committed for trial.
Cross-examined. You said to me you went to Australia in 1899, and that you could prove an alibi.
JOHN BURRELL . I am superintending clerk at the Admiralty and Assistant to the Director of Greenwich Hospital—the two articles produced here formed part of a public collection known as the Nelson relics, and were in the Painted Chamber of Greenwich Hospital up to December, 1900—they are the property of the Lords of the Admiralty—the value of the articles stolen is at least £5,000.
The Prisoner called:
JAMES CARTE . (Re-examined.) "You came to live with me at the beginning of August, 1900—you went to work at the Woolwich Barracks as a shoemaker, and stayed there for about two months; when you left I believe you went to the Co-operative Stores, Woolwich, but I do not know it—you left us in December, 1900. on account of a quarrel with your sister—you quarrelled with me also; I told you to clear out—you did some work at my place—you told me you were going to emigrate, and I came and saw you off—I have some relatives in Australia.
By MR. MATHEW. My relatives were in Melbourne, not New Zealand—my son was fairly well dressed when he left this country—I cannot say whether he was in possession of a considerable sum of money; I know he had £5 or £6 in the Post Office—I made a statement to Inspector Arrow, but I did not say then that he had plenty of money; I do not think he had plenty.
ALICE TUCK . (Re-examined.) You came to me in December, 1900—your habits were pretty regular—I do not remember receiving a shipping firm's circular for you—your manner was not extravagant; you were not throwing sovereigns right and left of you—when you came again to me in July this year I asked you how long you had been away, and you said three years come last December—you pulled out of your pocket an insurance policy, and said you left in December, 1900.
AUBREY PRETTEJOHN . (Re-examined.) I have no a copy of the ticket with me, but of the booking slip—the tickets are not transferable—the possessor of a ticket, if he transfers it, need not let us know: he may do it without our knowledge; hut if we caught him at it we should certainly have him punched—we cannot recognise every passenger—the name on your ticket was William McCarthy, seaman, age 21.
CHARLES ARROW . (Re-examined.) When you made your statement I do not remember that it was stipulated as to not being made public: I remember about being not detained and coming to no harm by it—I do not remember your saying if it got into the paper the parties concerned would scent danger and be prepared—I told you I could make no term with you—there is nothing omitted from the statement—you were not charged at that time, and as far as I could see then you might not have been charged.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he got the articles from a man in Melbourne.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Quarter Sessions, Winchester, on June '23th, 1898. Five other convictions were proved against him. The police gave him the character of a desperate thief. Seven years' penal servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. RODERICK Prosecuted; and MR. PERCIVAL HUGHE Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
MR. BEAR. and MR. HASTING Prosecuted.
EDWARD WOLF . I am station officer at the Eveling Fire Station. Deptford—on August 16th, in the afternoon, I went to 47, Tanner's Hill Deptford, a hair dresser's shop, and found a fire in the ornamental curtain round the tire place and chimney jambs and mantel boards in the shop, and in the upstairs back bedroom on the first floor a bedstead was alight but the tire was partly extinguished, water having been thrown on it, the paint work was scorched all round the bed; I looked out of the window and saw the bedding had been thrown out—I found that a wool mattress and couch had been saturated with paraffin, also the curtains round the fire place in the front room on the first floor—an arm chair stood in the corner which had had paraffin poured over it—the prisoner was in the shop—I asked him if he was the occupier and how the fire occurred—he said he was sitting in the back kitchen when it broke out
at the back of the shop—I asked him if he was insured—he said yes. In the Norwich Union—he showed me a-policy for £100—I gave information to the police of what I had seen—I said at the police court there was no fire but where the paraffin was.
ERNEST APPLETON . (39 K.) About 5.30 on Tuesday, August 16th, I was called to 47, Tanner's Hill—after the fire was over I entered—I saw paraffin in the first floor front room on the bed, on the floor, on the picture cords, and on the mantel shelf—I cautioned the prisoner; he said, "I had a row with my wife, and poured paraffin over the shop and bed room and set light to them"—I told him I should take him into custody—as he was going down the stairs he said, I did not tell the children or the servant I was going to do it; they went out at the back door"—when charged he made no reply—he appeared very much upset.
WILLIAM PHILLIPS . I am a pewterer of 1. Neal Street, Depford—on the afternoon of August 16th I was near the Standard Public House, Tanners' Hill, about 30 yards from No. 47—I saw the prisoner looking out of his shop window—I saw a fire and went to the alarm and pulled it—before the Magistrate I said the prisoner seemed dazed.
IDA GULLIVER . I was a general servant in the prisoner's employ—he lived at 47. Tanners' Hill, with his wife and three children—on August 16th I was out with the children from 3.30 p.m.—Mrs. Kruger wont out at 2 p.m.—we had been using paraffin because we were overrun with bugs—I came back about 7.30 p.m.—I said before the Magistate. "The house was alive with bugs"—I had put paraffin five weeks before all over the bed rails, mattresses, and up the wall.
BENJAMIN ROBERT . I am agent for the Norwich Union Fire Insurance Co. at 6, High Street, Deptford—the prisoner took out a policy in July last for £100 on 47, Tanners' Hill—he last paid the renewal premium on July 11th—there was £40"—on the shop and fixtures, &c, and £60 on the household goods.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he did not recollect what occurred, but that his wife had had a row with him which grieved him; thai he had had a drop of beer, and that he was sorry.
Evidence for the Defence.
LUKE HENRY MOOR . The prisoner is a hard working man; I have known him eight years; he was always good to his wife and children; and I have never seen him in drink or in trouble—his wife had a very sulky temper but he never struck her.
LENA CORBETT . The prisoner and his wife have good characters, but she is a bad tempered girl; the prisoner is a good husband, and has lived with her seven years, not having raised his hand to her: she owns it is her own fault and that before the fire she had upset her husband.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Justice Mr. Bucknill.
MR. SAND. Prosecuted and MR. WARBURTON. Defended.
The prisoner in the hearing of the Jury said he was guilty of unlawfully wounding
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
MR. BODKIN. and MR. FORREST Defended. Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL K.C. and MR. PURCELL. Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
723. EDWARD GREY (30) PLEADED GUILTY . to feloniously embezzling 15s. 11d., the moneys of George Henry Wilkinson, his master, having been convicted of felony at this Court on October 20th. 1902, in the name of John Lock. One other conviction was proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour. —
(724.) EMILY ANN AMELIA HILL (58) , to stealing £6 5s. 8d. and other sums, the property of Smith's Patents. Limited: also to forging and uttering receipts for the payment of money with intent to defraud. Judgment respited. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(725.) HENRY THOMAS CLEMENTSON (38) , to attempting to have unlawful carnal knowledge of Emily Clementson, a girl between the age of 13 and 16; also to indecently assaulting her. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(726.) JOHN HERBERT BENSON (24) , to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £7 with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £6 with intent to defraud, having been convicted of misdemeanour at Marlborough Street on March 24th, 1901. in the name of John Herbert Hawkins.
The police gave him a bad character. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BLACKWELL. Prosecuted.
WALTER CHARLES JOE . I am a jeweller of 21, King Street. Richmond—about 4.55 p.m., on August 10th, I was at the back of my shop, when a customer came into the next compartment—I looked to see whether my assistant was attending to him—I heard a slight noise at the back of me, and on turning round I saw the prisoner below the counter fumbling with a sack—I thought for the moment it was a carman delivering some goods, but on looking closer I saw one of my clocks protruding from the sack—I rushed round the counter and got between the prisoner and the doorway—ho jumped up—I asked him what he was doing there, and with an oath ho asked mo what it was to do with mo—
my assistant fetched a policeman, who arrested him with my clock under his arm—I had noticed the prisoner standing outside my shop about an hour previously.
AMBROSE WATERFIELD . (443 B.) On August 19th I was in King Street, Richmond, when I was called by Mr. Joel's assistant into his shop, where I saw the prisoner standing with a clock in his arms—Joel gave him into custody for stealing his clock from the counter.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were standing in the middle of the shop—I did not tell you to pick the clock up—you did not attempt to rifle my pockets on the way to the station.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he went into the shop for a pair of spectacles when by accident he knocked the clock off the counter, and it having fallen on a soft mat he was picking it up when he was arrested.
GUILTY . (See the next case.)
MR. BLACKWELL. Prosecuted.
HARRY HOLFORD . I was present at the Clerkenwell Sessions on December 18th, 1900, when the prisoner was sentenced to three years penal servitude in the name of George Saunders—I have known him for 19 years, and there are other convictions against him.
GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour.
CHARLES GEORGE STILL . I am a butcher of 124, Poplar Walk Road, Herne Hill—I have a little girl named Ethel May, who is 5 1/2 years old—I passed my house on Sunday, July 31st, at 1.10 p.m., and saw her playing outside the door—on ray return at 2.15 p.m. I found she had not come home, and we thought she had gone to Sunday School with the other childred—at 5 p.m., when the children came out, she had not come home—I gave information to the police on August 2nd, and on August 5th I saw my child at Hunter Street Police Station, King's Cross—I put an advertisement in the paper—I have never seen the prisoner before, and I have never given her any authority to take my child away.
Cross-examined. My house is little over a mile from Camberwell Green'.
LEONTINE CARTWRIGHT . I live at 73, Harrison Street, Gray's Inn Road, where the prisoner has been lodging with me for the last four months—on July 31st, about 3 p.m., she returned with the child, Ethel May Still—I asked her if it was her baby and she said, "Yes"—she did not tell me where she got it from—in consequence of some questions I had put to the child, and an advertisement that was shown to me in the paper, at 9 p.m. on August 4th I took her to Hunter Street Police Station, King's Cross.
Cross-examined. The baby called you "mother—you asked me on Tuesday, August 2nd. to lend you 6d. to take the child home—I did not give you the money because I had not got it.
WILLIAM LEWIS . (289 E.) At 10.30 p.m., on August 4th, I saw the prisoner in Harrison Street—I told her I was a police officer—she said, Yes. I know what you want; it is about the child"'—I said, "Yes"—she said, ", I picked her up by Waterloo between (6 and 7, or it might have been an hour later, on Tuesday evening"—I said I should take her to the station—she said, "All right." and I took her.
By the COURT. The child had then been brought to the station.
Cross-examined. You did not say that you picked the child up between Camberwell and Brixton.
Re-examined. I made a note of what she said at the time (Produced).
EDWARD HANCOCK . Inspector.) At 1 p.m., on August. "5th, I saw the prisoner in Hunter Street Police Station—I told her that she would he charged with stealing a child—she said. "I found the child at Camber-well Green on Tuesday, and took her to my lodgings"—shortly afterwards she said. "To tell the truth. I found her on Sunday; I can scarcely keep myself, and I am sure I do not want other people's children."
The prisoner, in her defence, said that the child spoke to her at Brirton on the Sunday; that she had taken her home and given her some tea with the intention of taking her back in the evening, but that some friends came who delayed her till it was too late; that the next day being a Bank Holiday she met some more friends who again delayed her; that on the Tuesday she had tried to borrow the money to take her back; and that she had no intention of stealing her.
GUILTY . Twelve months' hard labour.
(731.) FRANK SIDNEY GRAY (26) to stealing a telephone, a jacket, and other goods, the property of the Voelker Incandescent Gas Mantle Company. Limited; also to feloniously breaking into a place of divine worship, and stealing an overcoat and 36 ft. of rubber tubing, the property of William Raine Selwood , having been convicted of felony at Bromley, Kent, on June 20th, 1901. Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. PARTRIDGE. Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL. Defended.
CHARLES HAROLD WOO . I am an assistant in a chemist's shop at 41, London Road—I was serving on July 9th when the female prisoner came into the shop about 5 p.m. and asked for 2d. worth of head and liver pills, and tendered a 2s. piece which I disfigured, as it was bad. so that she could not pass it again—I told her it was a bad coin—she said it must have been given her in change—she left and did not return
for the pills—she came again on Saturdy, July 23rd, with a 2s. piece and asked for the same thing—I recognized her and saw that the 2s. piece was bad—I sent the porter outside the counter to prevent her going out of the shop—I said, "You are coming it a little bit too warm; you will have to sit down"—I spoke to my employer and sent the porter for a constable—I recognize the coin she gave me the second time.
Cross-examined. On the 23rd other customers were in the shop—the porter was putting up the boxes of pills—we were very busy—I took up the coin and bent it first slightly—then I told her I thought she was coming it a little bit too warm—I am not certain that I have mentioned that before, or that I have told you all that occurred—I said, You remember the last time you were here?"—she said, "You have made a mistake, I have never been in the shop before"—then the chemist came forward and said, "The assistant says you have been in the shop before"—she said, "No, I have not"—he then said, "I must send for a constable"—I do not think she said, "Very well, I will take a seat; I am quite willing to go to the station"—I do not remember that—I will not swear she did not say it—I sent the porter to prevent her going out because I did not intend to let her go—I told her to sit down—she said, "Very well, I will take a seat" after I had told her to sit down—I say she was there on the 9th—I cannot say I had ever seen her before that—she was in the shop about five minutes—I did not hear her say in the policeman's hearing, "I must have taken it in change at the public house last night"—I was serving a customer at the time.
REUBEN BAKE . I am porter at this shop at 41, London Road—on Saturday, July 9th, I saw both the prisoners in the London Road—first Agnes came to the shop and asked for 2d. worth of head and liver pills—Wood served her; she tendered a 2s. piece which he found to be bad—he then asked her where she got it from, and she said, "In my change"—she then took the 2s. piece up without offering more money for the pills, and walked out—I was going to my tea, and followed her out of curiosity—she turned down Prince's Street, a turning two or three doors from the shop—at the bottom of the street she came across the male prisoner—I followed them to St. George's Road—they turned down Newington Butts, and I went to my tea—I followed them as far as the Elephant and Castle, about fifty yards—they kept together as long as I had sight of them—that was about 5 p.m. on a July evening—on July 23rd I saw them again—the female prisoner came into the shop about 9 p.m. and asked for the same pills and tendered a 2s. piece to Wood, who found it was bad—I recognised her as Wood was taking the coin—after he tested it I went for a policeman—I found one on point duty, about fifty yards off—I saw the male prisoner waiting outside, and at once recognised him—this time he was at the other end of the street—I returned with Chalk—I afterwards went to the police station, and was there five or ten minutes when the inspector in charge directed me to fetch Wood—on my way I came across the male prisoner outside the same public House I had seen him before—after speaking to
Wood in the shop I gave the male prisoner in charge of another constable.
Cross-examined. The Princess of Wales was the public house I saw the male prisoner at—three or four customers were in the shop when the woman was served—when I recognised her I tapped Wood on the leg—all I heard her say was that she got it in her change—Wood said she had come into the shop before—she said she had not been in the shop for nine months, and that was the first time she had been in that night—she did say she had not been in the shop before, and that Wood had made a mistake—she said, "Very well I will take a seat," and "I am quite willing to go to the station"—although she used those words, I am certain she came into the shop on the 9th—she was the only customer in the shop then—I was behind the governor's desk—I did not pay much attention on this occasion till Wood said, "The coin is bad"—she was in the shop about half a minute—I had never seen her before.
JAMES CHALK . (22 L.) I was on point duty, near London Road, on the evening of July 23rd, when, in consequence of a communication from Baker I proceeded to No. 41—the female prisoner was sitting on a chair in the shop—Wood said she had called for 2d. worth of head and liver pills and tendered a counterfeit florin about three minutes before—it was about 9 p.m.—she said she must have got it in change, as she had changed half a sovereign last night at a public house in Tichfield Street—Wood said he would charge her. and I took her to the stationboth Wood and Baker said she had called at the shop previously and tendered a bad 2s. piece—at the station, when the charge was taken, they said that was a mistake, and they had discovered it was the Saturday previous to that—she was charged with uttering the female searcher searched her—she was earning a hand bag—it was opened and found to contain two small chemises, two 1d. novels, and a 2d. packet of cocoa—on being asked she gave the address, 147, Tichfield Street—I found two keys in a purse in the bag; I handed them to the Inspector—I was present when the man was brought in afterwards—he gave the same address.
Cross-examined. I found no bad coin on either of the prisoners—in the purse were four half crowns and a 6d.—she said she was taking the chemises, the cocoa, and the two novels to her sister—only Baker followed us to the station.
HENRY EBENDEN . 9 L.R.) On July 23rd Baker pointed out the male prisoner to me outside the Princess public house in the London Road—I charged him with being concerned with a woman in custody in uttering counterfeit coin—he said, "I am waiting for my wife"—I took him to the station, where he was charged with being concerned with a woman in uttering counterfeit coin on the Saturday night and also on a night previously—he said. I can prove where, I was on that night."Meaning the 9th, I was at my brother-in-law's on that date—when searched there was found on him 20s. 3d. silver, 1s. 8d. bronze, 30 1d. stamps, and some keys—there were four 2s. pieces, seven 1s. pieces, a 3d. piece, ten
sixpences, and two half pennies—he 'gave his correct address, 147, Tichfield Street, and said he was a painter.
Cross-examined. I found no bad money on him—the stamps were in a sheet, in an envelope.
FREDERICK ANDERS . Detective L.) I was handed two keys at the station, and on July 31st I went to 147, Great Tichfield Street—in a first floor room I found this bank book, showing an account of £9 in a number, but no name, running from February 22nd to July 19th; 6s. 4d. in penny stamps, and £1 1s. 9d. in silver—the stamps were in 2s. parcels and about 1s. worth loose, 76 stamps altogether, but only one single stamp.
Cross-examined. The bank book was that of the National Penny Bank—at the station the female prisoner said it was her account—that is true—she referred me to where she had been employed as a general servant—she left her last situation at Mrs. Ward's at Egerton Mansions,. Brunswick Square, three months before her arrest, where her character was satisfactory—I understood she had been there fifteen months—I find she has borne a good character—the silver was found in a work box and the book in a drawer.
John Hinlon, in his defence on oath, said he was at his brother-in-law's on July 9th, and not near the shop in London Road, and that he left the 'woman to go errands on July 23rd, and found she was locked up, but he had no knowledge of uttering bad coin.
Agnes Hinton, in her defence on oath, denied being in the shop on July 9th, and said she did not know how she came with the bad florin, and that the articles found on her she was about to take to her sister.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
ALFRED PLAT . I live at 7, Brook Street, Kennington, and am a commission agent—about 7 p.m. on Thursday, July 27th, I was in the Surrey Restaurant—I had gone in with a Mend called "Yorky"—a little while after I was left alone with the prisoner—I saw that he had an open knife in his hand—I put my hand down and felt a flow of blood—I did not notice how it was done—I felt a pain under my heart—I pulled myself together but he was not there then—I was taken to St. Thomas's Hospital and became an out patient.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When this occurred there were no other persons in the bar—I have been in the house with you several times before—I have not been unfair to you and stopped you from earning your living—I did not shout out when I was stabbed—I felt a pain and put my hand down to see what it was—I do not owe you any money.
KENNETH BLACK . I am medical officer in charge of St. Thomas's Hospital and am also the casualty officer—the prosecutor was brought in to me about 8.15 on July 27th—I examined him and found a wound over his heart extending about half an inch—it was not a very large wound; it looked like a stab—this knife (Produced) was shown to me—the wound it self was not dangerous, but it was in a dangerous place.
ERNEST STANLEY TABLING . I am the proprietor of the Surrey Restaurant—I was in the house on the night in question—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor there—I heard no altercation whatever—both were sober—I did not see the prisoner go.
DAVID DICKINSON . I am a horse dealer of 19, Fitzalan Street—I was in the Surrey Restaurant on the night in question—I am known as Yorky"—I went into the Restaurant to have a drink with the prosecutor—I saw the prisoner—he was trimming his nails with a knife—I cannot swear to this knife—as soon as I paid for my drink I went out.
By the COURT. There were two other persons in the bar about six or even yards away—the prisoner was sober.
Cross-examined. You have called at the house and asked if my father has left any money—my mother has given you money—my father has done so also.
HERBERT MILTO . (Detective L.) I arrested the prisoner at Peckham—when charged he said "Yes, he owes me £20; he would not pay it, so I done it on him"—on the way to the station he said, "Yes, he owes me £20; he would not pay me, so I paid him"—this knife was found in his trousers' pocket—he had been drinking.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on the day in question he teas drunk, and that if he did stab the prosecutor he did not remember it.
GUILTY. of unlawful wounding. A previous conviction was proved against him. Four months' hard labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 17TH, 1904.