Old Bailey Proceedings, 6th March 1905.
Reference Number: t19050306
Reference Number: f19050306

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT

Sessions Paper.

POUND, MAYOR.

FIFTH SESSION, HELD MARCH 6TH, 1905.

MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,

TAKEN IN SHORTHAND BY

ALFRED FITZGERALD DALTON,

Official Shorthand Writer to the Court,

ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.

(For many years with the late firm of Messrs. BARNETT & BUCKLER.)

LONDON:

STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,

Law Booksellers and publishers.

THE

WHOLE PROCEEDINGS

On the King's Commission of

OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY

FOR

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

OF THE

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,

Held on Monday, March 6th, 1905, and following days.

Before the Right Hon. JOHN POUND, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir CHARLES JOHN DARLING , Knight, one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart.; Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL-PHILLIPS, Bart., G.C.I.E.; Sir JAMES THOMSON RITCHIE , Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knight, K.C., Recorder of the said City; WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq.; FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., and HOWARD CARLILE MORRIS, Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; LUMLEY SMITH , Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court; and his Honour Judge RENTOUL, K.C., Commissioner; His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.

THOMAS VEZEY STRONG , Esq., Alderman.

GEORGE JOSEPH WOODMAN , Esq., J.P.

Sheriffs.

FRANCIS HOWSE , Esq.

ANDREW WILLIAM TIMBRELL , Esq.

Under-Sheriffs.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT

POUND, MAYOR. FIFTH SESSION.

A star (*) denotes that the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.

LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.

OLD COURT.—Monday, March 6th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-224

224. WILLIAM ALFRED TANT (37) , Committing an act of gross indecency with William Lionel Harvey.

MR. JENKINS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-225

225. THOMAS JAMES SMITH (42) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing an order for the payment of 3s., and six postage stamps, the property of the Postmaster-General. Six months in the Second Division.

Reference Number: t19050306-226

(226.) JESSE WILLIAM PATEMAN (32) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, two orders for the payment of 20s. and 15s. from a post letter, the property of the Postmaster-General. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-227

(227.) LEONARD HENRY SOUNDY (20) , to feloniously forging and uttering receipts for the payment of £15 and £15 with intent to defraud. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] He received a good character. Eight months in the Second Division. —And

Reference Number: t19050306-228

(228.) JAMES HALLEYBONE (26) , to unlawfully assaulting Mary Ann Halleybone and occasioning her actual bodily harm. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Three years' penal servitude.

Reference Number: t19050306-229

229. JAMES HALLEYBONE was again indicted for feloniously causing grievous bodily harm to Mary Ann Halleybone with intent to do her grievous bodily harm.

MR. MORGAN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-230

230. JOSEPH WILLIAM BRYANT (53) , Stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing thirty-two post cards the property of the Postmaster-General.

MR. BIRON Prosecuted; MR. SINCLAIR Defended.

ARTHUR JONAS WATTS . I am a clerk in the secretary's office at the General Pest Office—in February information came to my knowledge, in consequence of which I gave certain instructions to Thomas Bradford—on February 15th, about 6.40, I was at the sorting office at Mount Pleasant—I knew the prisoner by sight at that time—he was a porter and his chief duty was to convey packets from the table where they arrive in the mail bag to the table where they were afterwards sorted—he was employed at the table where the French packets were dealt with—I saw him look round the office—he then went to a basket and took this packet out, addressed to Madame Du Visme, hurriedly put it in the upper part of his apron and walked out of the sorting office—the packet was then concealed—I gave instructions to Bradford to tell the prisoner I wished to see him—I saw him and cautioned him and told him who I was—I said, "A minute or two ago you put a packet in your apron and apparently into one of your pockets; what explanation have you to give?"—he took the packet from his apron and said, "I was not going to keep it; I was going to look at it"—I said, "You had left the sorting office when you were spoken to by Mr. Bradford and you were in the passage"—he replied, "I was going to the w.c. and I did not intend to keep the packet"—I saw the packet—it was closed then—there was something on the outside of it in French, indicating that it was a book packet—it was opened at the Police Court and contained two French school books—shortly afterwards a Post Office constable brought me these French papers and post cards—there were thirty-two post cards in one packet and sixteen in another; also three French periodicals—the sixteen post cards are stamped as having passed through the post—the others are unstamped and were sent under cover—the prisoner said, referring to the post cards, "They belong to the office; they are what I stole. The unstamped ones I stole out of a packet about a month ago. I do not know how the packet was addressed; the marks on the post cards were made by me"—the cards are probably French—several of them were posted in France.

Cross-examined. I have been in the Post Office fourteen years—I think the prisoner has been in the service for one year longer—I believe before that he was in the Navy—he would come to the Post Office with an excellent character, and apart from these matters I believe his character has been good while in the Post Office—the only charge against him when before the Magistrate was with reference to the books and not with reference to the post cards—Bradford gave me the information; he is an over-seer—I am his superior officer and he was acting under my instructions—the sorting room is a large one with a good many tables—a good many people are employed there, but there was nobody else at the prisoner's table—the room is well lighted—I saw the prisoner go towards the door—I did not see him go out, but he did so—he was going towards the lavatory

—his duties would cease that night at 8 o'clock—this packet contains two books of a harmless character—its appearance does not indicate that it contained money—it bears the Paris date stamp—on the face of the unstamped post cards there is nothing to show that they might have come through the post and have been collected by the prisoner—they are directed to some person in this country—my opinion is that they never left the General Post Office—they may have been purchased in this country—they are of a broad character and the marks on them make them indecent.

THOMAS FOSTER BRADFORD . I am an overseer in the Post Office—part of my duty is to attend to the sorting office at Mount Pleasant—I knew the prisoner as being a porter there and carrying certain packets which had arrived by the French mail to a table where they would be sorted—on February 14th I saw him place a packet in his coat pocket—he took it from No. 1 bag opening table—he left the office and went to the w.c.—I repeated what I had seen to Mr. Watts—I had seen the prisoner pick up several packets and examine them—Mr. Watts gave me certain instructions—he was with me about 7 p.m. on February 15th—I saw the prisoner place a packet under his apron, leave the sorting office and go towards the w.c's—I went after him and found him outside the office—I told him a gentleman in the secretary's office wished to speak to him—he came with me to the first floor, where Mr. Watts told him he was seen to put a packet under his apron—the prisoner produced it and said, "I did not intend to steal it as I was only going to look at it"—I was present when his locker was searched and these post cards and French newspapers were found—I went to Mr. Watts and the prisoner said, "These cards are what I have taken from the sorting"—there were two lots—of one lot he said, "These I have taken out of a packet"—those were the plain ones—he said he had taken the journals about a month ago—Mr. Watts asked him where the cover was and he said he did not know.

Cross-examined. I did not say anything about the post cards or the journals before the Magistrate.

WILLIAM CECIL ROBERTS (Constable, G.P.O.) On February 15th the prisoner was given into my custody about 7 p.m.—I searched his locker and found a number of picture post cards and some papers—I was present when they were shown to Mr. Watts—the prisoner said to him, "They belong to the Post Office"—pointing to the unstamped ones, he said, "They came out of a packet; I stole them about a month ago. I do not know who the packet was addressed to"—he was afterwards taken to the police station and charged with stealing a packet containing two books.

Cross-examined. Before the Magistrate the other charge was not made against him—the locker was the property of the Post Office, but allocated to the prisoner—there was no money found in it.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had been in the Navy for twenty-three and a half years; that he took the packet as he seemed to be infected with a bad desire and was going to open the packet to see if there were any more French cards in it like those he had obtained before; that the French mail was searched every night owing to the indecent books and pictures coming over;

that this packet had been passed as decent, but he wanted to see what it contained and had no intention of keeping it: and that the alterations on the post cards were his, but he did not know what induced him to make them. Fourteen days in the Second Division.

NEW COURT.—Monday, March 6th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-231

231. ALBERT EDWARD ELSTON (18) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering a counterfeit florin. One month's hard labour. —And

Reference Number: t19050306-232

(232.) WILLIAM RUSH (35) , to unlawfully possessing nineteen counter-feit shillings with intent to utter them. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-233

233. THOMAS GRIFFITHS (34) and HARRIET GRIFFITHS (20), Unlawfully possessing nine counterfeit florins. THOMAS GRIFFITHS PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Harriet Griffiths.

FRANK KNELL (Inspector L.) On January 27th, about 3 p.m., I was in the Caledonian Road, near King's Cross, with Pike and Long, and with Pike I followed the prisoners from King's Cross railway station to Hammersmith—outside Hammersmith station the prisoners went into a public-house in the Broadway about 4.15, remained a few minutes, came out together, then walked down King Street, the woman twenty or thirty yards in front of the man—she went into a chemist's at 107, King Street, and came out—I went into the shop and spoke to Foster, the chemist—I received from him this florin, which I marked in the female prisoner's presence—I next saw the prisoners together again in the Broadway—they separated—the man went the other side of the road—I saw the woman go into 248, King Street, Kennedy & Clarke's drapers' shop—as I saw her come out I went in—I received from Miss Wills, an assistant, this florin, which I marked—I went and spoke to Pike—I then saw the female enter and leave 264, King Street, Cutforth's stationer's shop—I entered the shop and received from the assistant, Eleanor Pearson, this counterfeit florin, which I marked—I spoke to Pike again—I lost sight of the man—I saw the female enter 20, King Street, about ten minutes after leaving Cutforth's—I entered and received this florin, which I marked—Pike arrested the man—I followed the woman—she was on one side of the road and the man the other—I spoke to her, but went to Sergeant Pike's assistance in taking the man to the police station—having done that, I went to 34. Poultney Street, Barnsbury Heath—the female prisoner was about to open the door of that house with a key about 8 p.m.—I had followed her with Pike and Long in a cab—I said to her, "We have overtaken you, and shall arrest you for being concerned with your husband in uttering and possessing counterfeit coin"—she said, "Yes, that is quite right. How did you know we lived here? Did my husband tell you?"—I took her to Hammersmith police station—both prisoners were charged—the woman did not reply.

Cross-examined. I have the prisoner's marriage lines—[Marriage certifcate produced, dated December 2nd, 1904.]

FRANK PIKE (Sergeant L.) I was with the last witness, on January 27th, in Caledonian Road and at Hammersmith, and I followed the prisoners—I saw the woman go into Foster's chemist's shop, come out, and hand something to the man—they both went into a public-house, and walked along King Street to No. 248, the woman about twenty yards in advance—she received something from the male prisoner, went into the draper's shop, came out, and handed the man a small parcel—while she was in the shop the man walked sometimes on the opposite side, and sometimes on the same side of the road—they continued walking along King Street, the woman in advance—she went into Cutforth's stationer's shop, 264, Kins Street, the man having handed her something—she came out and handed him a small parcel—they then walked to Western's, 20, Broad-way, where the same thing happened—I then arrested the man, and with Knell's assistance took him to the police station—I found on him, stuffed between his trousers and shirt, these eight bad coins wrapped in paper, and in good money 3s. 10d. silver and 2s. 10d. bronze—from the woman I took a purse. 10s. gold, and 6s. 6d. silver, good money.

Cross-examined. I did not notice in the first case, but in the last three cases the man handed the woman something before she went into the shop, and when she came out he handed her something.

ALFRED LONG (Sergeant L.) I was present at 34, Poultney Street, when the woman Griffiths was arrested—searching the house, I found this quantity of new ribbon, this marriage certificate, two bank books, one of which has been given up to the male prisoner—the one produced is in the name of Harriet Howard, dated August 25th, 1904, and shows a deposit of £7—in the house she said they had been making about £1 a day after paying all expenses—by passing counterfeit coin I assumed she meant she said they lived fairly well.

MR. PURCELL submitted that the woman was under the direction and control of her husband, and, therefore, not guilty. The COURT directed the Jury to return a verdict of

NOT GUILTY .

THOMAS GRIFFITHS then pleaded guilty to a conviction at this Court on October 21th, 1898, of possessing counterfeit coin. Four other convictions were proved against him. He was stated to be a clever coiner, who imitated old or used coins. Five years' penal servitude.

Reference Number: t19050306-234

234. GEORGE GOULD (22) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin twice within ten days.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

LEAH BRECKER . I assist my father, a tobacconist, at 300, Mile End Road—on Thursday, February 2nd, about 4.30, I served the prisoner with a packet of cigarettes—he tendered this shilling, which I put in the till and gave him eleven pence change, where there was one other old shilling with a Queen's head—on my father taking the till he bit this shilling and found it was bad—on the Friday, about 6.30 p.m., the prisoner came again

for a packet of "Woodbines," and tendered one shilling—I recognised him by his face—I went for my father, who was in the room behind the shop said something to him, and came back into the shop.

ISAAC BRECKER . I am a tobacconist, in Mile End Road—on Thursday, February 2nd, on taking the till, I found this bad shilling—the following day this other bad shilling was brought to me and I had a conversation with my daughter about 6.30 p.m. in the back parlour—I tried the coin on the counter in the shop, and found it was bad—I asked the prisoner where he took the shilling—he said he had been doing a job for a gentleman, who gave it to him—I showed him the other bad shilling from my waistcoat pocket and said, "The next time you come in my shop with shillings like that I will give you in charge. Where have you got that shilling you gave my girl last night?"—he did not answer, but took the bad shilling from my hand and ran away—I ran after him and a constable caught him.

HENRY BULLOCK (208 J.) On February 3rd I saw the prisoner 200 or 300 yards from this tobacconist's shop in Mile End Road, running towards Bow—I stopped him because Mr. Brecker was shouting "Stop thief!"—he turned into Bancroft Road and I gave chase and caught him—I asked him what he was running for—he said, "There's a man following me; he is going to charge me"—Brecker came up and said, "This man came into my shop and tendered a bad shilling for a packet of cigarettes; my daughter gave him eleven pence change and he came in again to-night and brought another and snatched it from between my finger and thumb and ran out of the shop"—I took the prisoner back to the shop and searched him—I found no bad money on him—I took him to the station where he was charged with passing two bad shillings—he said, "I earned a shilling this morning carrying a parcel for a gentleman. I did not know it was a bad shilling and did not pass one there last night."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am an Inspector of Coin to His Majesty's Mint—this shilling is counterfeit.

The prisoners statement before the Magistrate: "Take pity on me. I am a poor man; give me a chance."

The prisoner, in his defence, said that he did not know the coin was bad and that he was not in the shop on the Thursday. GUILTY on third count (uttering counterfeit coin on the Friday). Three months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-235

235. JAMES RICHARDSON (40) , Unlawfully possessing counterfeit coin.

MR. PATRIDGE Prosecuted.

WILLIAM GUE (480 H.) On February 14th I took the prisoner into custody for being drunk with another man in Wentworth Street, Whitechapel—I took him to Commercial Street police station—on searching him I found on him forty counterfeit coins—there were thirteen half-crowns, three florins, and twenty-four more coins, some in a handkerchief—eight shillings were loose—in his waistcoat pocket were twelve sixpences—seven half-crowns were wrapped in green tissue paper—I also found three bags of sweets; one from an address in Fulham Road one from Clapham

Common, and one from Wandsworth, and two sixpences and twopence bronze, good money.

JOSEPH PULLEN (Detective-Sergeant H.) I was at the Commercial Street police station when the last witness handed me the forty coins produced—the prisoner was drunk when brought in—he seemed sober about 7 p.m., and I told him that forty counterfeit coins had been found in his possession and that he would be charged with being in possession of them, knowing that they were false and counterfeit—he said, "I cannot make that out"—I showed him the handkerchief and the other articles—he said, "Yes, they all belong to me. I shall have to think how the coins came there."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am an Inspector of Coin to His Majesty's Mint—these thirteen half-crowns, three florins, twelve shillings, and twelve sixpences are counterfeit—the coins wrapped in tissue paper are so wrapped to preserve them—they are principally from the same mould, but two or three are from different ones.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am guilty of their being in my possession, but I was drunk, and how they came there is a mystery. I strongly deny the handkerchief being mine; how it came there is a mystery. The officer knows I was drunk. I have no witness here."

The prisoner, in his defence, said that he could not grasp the idea of how the coins came into his possession. GUILTY . Seven convictions were proved against him in Manchester. Eighteen months' hard labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 7th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-236

236. WILLIAM LOOMES DAWKINS (34) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a postal order for 5s., the property of the Postmaster-General. Six months' hard labour, and to be kept under such observation as to the state of his mind as the authorities might think necessary.

Reference Number: t19050306-237

237. ELIZABETH COVE, Feloniously wounding John Rubbins with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. PENREY OLIVER Prosecuted; MR. HAROLD MORRIS Defended.

JOHN RUBBINS . I live at 103, Carlton Street, Kentish Town, and am a labourer—I am seventeen years old—I have known the prisoner for about four weeks—I was on friendly terms with her—on Sunday, January 22nd, about 7 p.m., I was in the Carnarvon Castle, in Chalk Farm Road—the prisoner looked in at the door—I went out to her—she said, "I will be back in twenty minutes"—she went away, and when she came hack she gave me some nuts, and I took the lot—I gave her back two or three—she passed a rude remark, and I hit her—I went back to the Carnarvon Castle, where I stayed about twenty minutes—I then went for a walk, and went into the Camden Head by myself—I had a drink

there—the prisoner and two girls were there—one was named Fanny James who asked me if I was going to treat her—I said, "Yes"—the prisoner said, "No, you do not want none of his—"and 1 threw a little drop of beer in her face—she went to aim back at me and instead of hitting me she hit another girl—I did not take her door-key then—I stayed in the house about ten minutes—the girls went out first—I went back to the Carnarvon Castle with George Coad—the prisoner and her two friends were not there—I was there with a lot more fellows—that was between 8.30 and 9 p.m.—I did not notice the prisoner come in—about 10.30 I went out to the urinal—as I was going back I heard someone call out "Titch"; that is what I am called—I went over to where the same three girls who had been in the Camden Head were standing—I saw the prisoner and two other girls—I said to them, "What do you want?"—as I got up to them the prisoner hit me in the eye and I fell down—I saw something shining in her hand and I heard a glass smash—I became dizzy—I was taken to the hospital; some stitches were put over the top of my eye—my eye has now been removed.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about seven weeks, but I have only spoken to her for about four weeks—I do not know if she works in the neighbourhood—I have not walked out with her—I saw her on the Saturday night at the Euston Music Hall and walked home with her—I did not want her to go beyond her house—I left her at the corner of a street; we were quite friendly then—I first saw her on Sunday night, about 7 or 7.30—she looked in the bar of the Carnarvon Castle, and I went outside—I took her key from her because we were playing about—I gave it back to her; I cannot remember when—I did not give it back to her; I gave it to the girl who was with her in the Camden Head—when I saw the prisoner about half an hour afterwards I still had it—she offered me some nuts, and I took the lot—she did not say, "Not so much of it"—I did not knock her down till she passed a rude remark to me—I pushed her and she fell down—then I went into the Carnarvon Castle to call my friend—I did not have any drink then—I strolled down to the Camden Head, and she happened to be there with two other girls—it is an oblong bar with a form down one side—the girls were sitting opposite the bar—I had a glass of ale with Coad—I drank half of it and threw the rest over the prisoner because she called me something she ought not to—the glass was put back on the counter—when I threw the drop of beer the prisoner went to return it and hit the other girl on the head—I went back to the Carnarvon Castle about 8.30 and stayed there till 10.30—I may have bad something to drink—somebody called me—I went out and when I came back I see the three girls—I did not talk to them—I did not say to them what is written on this piece of paper—I saw Fanny James and Florence Clark there with the prisoner—I did not see Fanny James go out—if I had not been called I should have gone back to the Carnarvon Castle—the girls were standing at the corner of the street—I did not hear the prisoner say she would see me to-morrow night and that we could settle our quarrel then—I have been convicted; I cannot quite remember when I was first charged—I have only been

charged twice; the first time was for being concerned with other boys in Caledonian Road in stealing a handkerchief—I got discharged; I went to Mr. Weatley's home for two weeks—the next time was for messing about in an oil shop and taking pickles away; I got six weeks' hard labour that time.

FLORENCE CLARK . I live at 6, Chapel Place, Summer stown, and am a waitress—on Sunday, January 22nd, I was with the prisoner and Fanny James—I saw the prosecutor in the Carnarvon Castle—I first saw him at 8 p.m.—I did not see the prisoner do anything to him; he asked her if she was going to have a drink—she said, "No"—he said, "Why not?"—she said, "I do not want to"—he struck her and she fell down—she had some nuts; she offered him some and he took the lot—she said, "Don't have so much of it"—it was after that that he struck her—I am quite sure he struck her in the face—when she fell down the prosecutor walked into the Carnarvon Castle; we then went into the Camden Head—only we three were there then—we sat down against the window and opposite the door; we had three ponies of stout—while we were drinking it the prosecutor and John Coad came in; they asked us to have a drink—we said, "No"—the prosecutor called for two glasses; he gave Coad one and threw the other at the prisoner—the glass struck Fanny James on the head—I am quite sure that he threw the glass—we got up and the prisoner threw a pony of stout back at him—we then came out and walked up to the Carnarvon Castle; we went in and sat on the seat—I saw Coad and the prosecutor come in—the prosecutor said to Fanny James he would knock her f—g—out—we did not reply to him—he went over to the other side and called the prisoner a bad name—we stayed till about 10.30—Fanny James and Jenny Gardner went out first; the prisoner and I remained there—the prosecutor was there then—me and the prisoner went out before he did—I saw him come out and walk over the road—I saw him returning—I did not hear any one call him—he went to strike the prisoner, she put up her hands to protect herself—I heard a glass go and the prosecutor fell down—I had seen a glass in her hand before that—I had seen her take it from the public-house because she was so frightened of him—she had said, "If he strikes me I shall strike him with this"—when we were outside he struck her with his fist—she put up the glass to defend herself and he fell down—I saw him bleeding—when she took the glass up she asked Fanny James to do the same.

Cross-examined. On this piece of paper is written the expression that the prosecutor used in the Carnarvon Castle to the prisoner—the prisoner looked after the house for her father—he is out of work at present.

FANNY JAMES . I am an assistant in a coffee shop at 61, Carlton Street, Summerstown—I was with the prisoner on Sunday, January 22nd, and I went to the Carnarvon Castle with her—we were coming across Chalk farm Bridge when I saw the prosecutor come out of the Carnarvon Castle—he was a stranger to me—he asked the prisoner to meet him at 8.20—it was 7.30 then—she said she did not wish to meet him and did not want to have anything to do with him—he took her key and beads away from her—he nave her back her beads and kept the street door-key, and said,

"I will keep this; I know you will have to come back for this"—we walked down and met Flo Clark—in the Carnarvon Castle he offered Flo Clark the key—when we first met her we went to a fruit shop and bought some nuts and apples—we came by the Carnarvon Castle and the prosecutor came out and said, "Give us a nut"—she offered him some and he took the lot—she said, "Don't have so much of it, Titch," and he knocked her down senseless—he struck her in the face—she laid on the ground a good few minutes—me and the other girl helped her up—we three girls went to the Camden Head and had a drink—the prosecutor and another man came in; the prosecutor called for two drinks, which they drank—he then called for two more and threw the glass at the prisoner—it struck me on the head; the beer went all over us—the prisoner threw some beer back at him—I cannot say if he was drunk or not—we walked out and I said to the prisoner, "I have got my head cut; we will go home"—going by the Carnarvon Castle she said, "Let us go in"—we went in and the prosecutor and another chap came in—the prisoner said he would kick me in the stomach—he said something to the prisoner, but I did not listen to it—the prisoner said to me, "I will take a glass and if he touches me I will frighten him"—I said, "I have better sense," and I did not take one—we went out and the prosecutor came across the road—she said something to him and he said, "Let us settle it by ourselves"—he then threatened her and I saw no more except I heard smashing of glass.

Cross-examined. I see the prosecutor on the ground bleeding—I do not know where the blood came from—I was with the prisoner all the evening and when the prosecutor took her key and knocked her down—when we went into the Camden Head we were surprised to see the prosecutor there—I am quite sure he cut my head with his glass—the only name I knew him by was "Titch"—I saw this piece of paper at the Police Court—the expression on it is what the prosecutor called the prisoner.

GEORGE WHITE (635 Y.) About 10.40 p.m. on January 22nd, in consequence of what was told me, I went to the North West London Hospital and made inquiries—I then went to 45, Mitcham Street, and saw the prisoner—I told her I should have to take her into custody for throwing a glass at a man and cutting his face—she said, "I know nothing about it. I will go with you"—I took her to the station.

Cross-examined. At the Police Court I said that she said, "I did not do it. I know nothing about it."

HERBERT LAWRENCE (Inspector Y.) About midnight on January 22nd I was at the police station when the prisoner was brought in and charged—I cautioned her and she made a statement which I wrote down—I read it over to her and she signed it (Read): "About 10 p.m. on the 22nd with Flo Clark and Jenny Garvin—I do not know where they live—I went into the Carnarvon Castle and had a drink; there were a lot of chaps there. Flo Clark went round the corner and got some bread and cheese: we went out and came back shortly after. When we saw Rubbins on the ground bleeding we all said. 'Oh. what is the matter?' He was taken to the hospital by Coad and we followed. I did not do the injury and

did not know who did. This has been read over to me and is correct"—she then said, "I know nothing of it. I did not do it"—next day I took her to the Police Court—after the evidence she said, "He started paying me first and I cannot tell whether I hit him or net"—she wrote a long statement at the prison and handed it to me.

Cross-examined. I have made inquiries about her—she has a good character and keeps house for her father—she has no mother—I charged her with maliciously wounding John Rubbins by striking him in the eye with a glass—at that time I did not know his eye was badly injured.

ALEC JOHN SPEACHLEY . I am house surgeon at the North West London Hospital—on January 23rd I saw the prosecutor there—I attended to him—he had a cut one and a hall inches long just over his left eye, from which a piece of glass was taken—the wound was stitched up and on the following morning his eye was removed and another piece of glass was taken from the socket—the wounds were consistent with the throwing of a glass—this large piece of glass went into the eye and punctured the eyeball, destroying the sight.

Cross-examined. The other eye has not been affected—the eye had to be removed to save the other one, otherwise there might be sympathetic ophthalmia.

The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that the prosecutor had hit her; that her face was bleeding; that she was frightened of him; that she did not know if she had picked up the glass before she went out of the public-house; that the did not ask James to take her glass out with her; that when they were outside the public-house the prosecutor passed them; that she said to him, "What makes you keep on paying me, I have got nothing to do with you?" that he then called her names and went to hit her; that she did not know what happened then; that she did not see him lying on the ground or bleeding; and that she did not know what she was saying at the police station.

She received an excellent character.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT, Tuesday, and THIRD COURT, Wednesday, March 7th and 8th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-238

238. JAMES WALKER THOMSON (29) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a bill of exchange for £3 5s., with intent to defraud; also to obtaining by false pretences from Mary Roberts £3 5s., with intent to defraud; also to attempting to obtain £29 5s. from Charles Edward Street, with intent to defraud; also to forging a bill of exchange for £29 5s., with intent to defraud. Eighteen months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-239

239. HENRY JOHNSON (27) and ELLEN GOLLER (32) , Feloniously possessing a mould for the manufacture of a counterfeit crown JOHNSON PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted; MR. DRAKE Defended Gol'er.

JOHN SWALLOW . (310 G.) I, with other officers, had instructions on December 31st to keep observation on the prisoners—about 6 p.m. I was with 344 G. in Hoxton Street, Shoreditch—I saw the prisoners leave the Red Lion and go in the direction of Curtain Road; they were joined by a man and a woman—we followed them to Wick Road, and up to 1.30 on January 1st, when I lost sight of them—about 3.30 p.m. we saw them and another man come from the direction of Victoria Park Road and enter 19. Bartrapp Street, Hackney Wick—we were looking for them on several dates, and on January 28th I saw them go into the same house in Bartrapp Street—at 2.15 p.m. another officer and I saw Johnson come out of the house and go to Victoria Park railway station—he took a ticket to Chalk Farm—I followed by the same train to Dalston Junction, where I told him I was a police officer, and arrested him—he said, "You do not want to take hold of me; I will go quietly"—I took him to Hoxton police station—he was charged at Victoria Park Road—he gave the name of Alfred Johnson.

Cross-examined. We officers watched the prisoners for about fourteen days in all—we saw them together chiefly on Fridays and Saturdays about six times—we followed them about together, going into public-houses.

Re-examined. We saw them enter and leave 19, Bartrapp Street.

GEORGE PRIDE (Detective G.) On January 28th I saw Johnson at Kingsland Road police station—he gave the name of Henry Johnson—on that and the following day I went with Smith to 19, Bartrapp Street—we crossed the North London Railway, got over the fence and through the back window—on searching the house, in the first floor front bedroom I found this mould in a cupboard wrapped in paper, and alone—a bedstead was in front of the cupboard, so that the door could not be opened without moving it—I searched a table-drawer—I found these three files, bearing traces of metal, pieces of emery cloth, a pair of scissors, two knives a candle, metal, copper wire, and on the floor this packet of silver sand; also a dish of silver sand, and two brushes, and some sand in a hand-basin—this portmanteau was locked—on opening it I found this ladle, with metal that had been molten, this polishing board with spaces for twenty-two florins, this clamp, and two tin cases for making moulds, a spoon, plaster of Paris, three polishing brushes, bottle of cyanide of potassium, antimony and residue of metal—I afterwards had an interview with Johnson, and on January 30th I saw Goller at 1.30 a.m. at Victoria Park police station—I told her she would be charged with Henry Johnson, alias Goller, in feloniously possessing a mould for manufacturing counterfeit florins and twenty-two counterfeit florins—those were all the coins that had been discovered at that time—she said, "I know nothing about it"—she made no reply to the charge—she gave the name of Ellen Goller—we found fifteen other coins.

Cross-examined. When we broke in the woman had not been home all night.

Re-examined. A fire had been recently used—there were ashes in the grate, and the hearth was dirty; silver sand was on the table—there were three bedrooms, only one in use.

WILLIAM SMITH (Sergeant J.) On January 28th I went with Pride to 19, Bartrapp Street—no one was at home—on the 29th we returned and searched the house—I found this crucible containing a small quantity of metal—I afterwards found ordinary kitchen utensils—the first floor back room was unoccupied—under some straw matting on the ground and between two pieces of paper I found twenty-two counterfeit florins laid out flat about two yards from the fireplace—on the 31st I made a further search with Baggott—under a washstand in the first floor front bedroom this mould was found—under a piece of wood fixed to the wash-stand were twenty-two counterfeit florins wrapped in square parcels.

TOM BAGGOTT (383 J.) On January 29th I was keeping watch on 19, Bartrapp Street—on the 30th I saw Goller enter the house with a man—they remained about five minutes—when she came out I told her I was a police officer and should arrest her for being concerned with Henry Johnson alias Goller, in possessing instruments for the manufacture of counterfeit coin—she said, "I know nothing about it"—I took her to Victoria Park police station, where she was detained till Pride's arrival, and the charge was formally entered—on being searched Goller took this Post Office bank book from her skirt pocket and handed it to me—£10 is entered to her credit on January 14th, and the address at the head of the book is 19, Bartrapp Street—she said the man who came out of the house with her was her uncle, and that she had been with him to the house to fetch clothing for her baby—I was present with the last witness when the counterfeit coins were found in the bedroom.

JAMES GILBERT . I am an estate and house agent, of 598, Old Ford Road, Bow—on January 11th, 1904, I let 19, Bartrapp Street, to the prisoners, who came together as Mr. and Mrs. Henry Goller, I believe twice—the rent was 9s. a week—I called for it—Mrs. Goller paid it punctually.

Cross-examined. The wife as a rule paid the rent, the man being away.

Re-examined. I collected the rent on Monday—I usually enquire as to references—I only saw the prisoners afterwards about the repairs.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This is a single mould for the making of a crown piece—it has not been used—I have seen thirty-seven coins produced—they are from several moulds—the articles produced are the regular stock-in-trade of a coiner—the coins are very well made—the bands are to hold the plaster mould while the metal is poured in.

GUILTY . Ten convictions were proved against JOHNSON. Five years' penal servitude. GOLLER discharged on recognisances and to pay £10 towards the costs of the prosecution.

Reference Number: t19050306-240

240. ALICE MAUD RACINE PLEADED GUILTY to having concealed the birth of her newly-born male child. To enter into recognizances.

Reference Number: t19050306-241

241. FRANCESCO CACCIA (33) and JOSEPHINE BUCHLAR, Stealing an order for the payment of £79 9s. 10d., the property of Mario Ganna.

MR. ARNOLD Prosecuted; MR. MARTIN O'CONNOR Defended Caccia and MR. A. E. COHEN Defended Buchlar.

MARIO GANNA (Partly interpreted). I am an electrician—I have known—the prisoners about a year—I had my letters addressed to their house—in the beginning of the year I asked my father to send me some money—I asked Caccia to receive a letter for me—I did not tell him to open it, nor to put his name on the cheque, nor that he could take all the money I owed him, which was only £9 15s., not £66—I asked him on January 3rd and 4th if a letter had come for me—I did not receive a letter of July 5th—I received this letter from him about January 4th, 1905—[The letter was undated and claimed compensation for keeping the witness's friends, Pena and Poffo, and stated that the writer was obliged to do, as he had been done by and would be avenged]—I know that letter is in Caccia's writing—I afterwards heard that my father had sent me the money I asked for, and I went to the bank to stop the notes.

Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. For about six months I was very friendly with the prisoners—Caccia lent me money—I expected to pay him—I was charged at the Police Court with loitering at a railway station—I was sentenced to go to prison—I was afterwards discharged—I was remanded to enable me to bring evidence as to character—Caccia employed a solicitor for me, Messrs. Merton & Steele, and he provided food for my wife while I was in prison for fourteen days—he did not send me food—I paid 27s. 6d. for food that was sent into the prison for me—I had money when I came out—Caccia advanced me two or three shillings two months afterwards—I was arrested on August 30th and charged at the Guildhall on September 14th—Caccia lent me 22s. in small sums of 7s. and other amounts—I admit I owe him £9 15s.—that does not include any money for the solicitor—it includes the service Caccia tendered to me during the two weeks I was in prison—I told Caccia I would pay him out of the money my father was going to send—my father wrote to Caccia, asking his opinion whether ho should send me money—I know that Caccia said, "Send him the money"—I told him to take possession of my letter—I never told him to take the cheque—I prosecute in this case without alliance with anyone—I spoke to the lawyer myself—if Caccia had given me the money I would not have proceeded against him.

Re-examined. Caccia said he had paid £17 costs to the solicitor for Poffo and me—Caccia gave my wife food for twelve days—I think he charged about 5s. a day—I think £5 is enough to pay Caccia for the trouble he took—he spent 15s. on me for dinners on Christmas day—I have calculated all those expenses and I say they come to £9 15s.

JOHN CURRY (Police-Sergeant C.) I saw Buchlar at the Old Jewry on February 18th, and told her that she would be charged for attempting to cash a bank note with a lad for £5, the proceeds of a cheque stolen by Caccia at Princess Court—I asked her where she got the note from—she said in French, "From my sister-in-law, Mario Biretta, who lives at Belfort, France; it was sent me in a registered letter, for which I signed three or four days ago. The old man who works for me brought it to me"—I asked her if she was married to Caccia—I knew her—she said,

"I am not married to Caccia; I have lived a long time with him, and have two children. I had no hand in the theft. I never saw the letter which came to Ganna with the cheque. My husband is the only one who has received letters at the house. I have only received one letter from a postman, and that was for me in the name of Buchlar"—I cautioned her and she made a statement, which I wrote down—she said she had not seen her husband since January 4th last, and "Ganna came several times after my husband was gone, and threatened to stab me if I did not tell him where he had gone to"—I arrested her and took her to Vine Street police station, where she was detained—a lad with her acted as interpreter between her and the banking officials—she says she received the letter in the name of Buchlar three or four days before February 18th—I found an acknowledgment from the Post Office in Leicester Square for £6 4s. on February 13th upon the lad—I showed it to her—she said, "That is my son's bank book"—the lad was not arrested—"Arthur Caccia, 7, Princess Court" is the only name on the book, but there is a number, 3313, and the date is February 13th—I took her to the police station—in reply to the charge she said, "I have taken nothing. When a letter came my husband always received it; it was not my business"—she said she did not know where he was—I found out afterwards that he was detained in the Dublin Bridewell—I sent to the Dublin police, who arrested him on the 20th—I went to Dublin and showed him the warrant—I cautioned him—I told him in French he would be charged with stealing money and with stealing a cheque, and with forging an endorsement to the cheque—he said, "Yes, I took the money with his authorisation"—I know him very well; I had met him at Whitcombe Street—he said, "You remember the evening (referring to Ganna) Pena was locked up, and I paid the lawyer £17 for him. I kept two women at my house, and afterwards I gave Pena money. He told me I could take my money from the cheque when it came. I would not trust him to pay me, so I cashed it myself"—the two women he referred to were Ganna's wife and Poffo's wife—I then produced to him four £5 notes and two brooches, each composed of a sovereign and two half sovereigns—I also showed him two slips showing the dispatch of a registered letter to Madame Buchlar and one to his wife at Princess Court—one letter was from the Post Office in College Green in Dublin, dated February 15th, and the other from an address in France, which is illegible—the numbers of the notes are 35002-3-4, and 8, and they are dated August 4th, 1904—the note Buchlar attempted to cash is No. 34005—I showed these notes to Caccia, and the register slips and said to him, "These notes were taken from you in the presence of Detective Lannaghan of the Dublin police, and they are part of what you received in exchange for the cheque"—he said, "Yes, the register slip is the one I sent to my wife"—I brought him up to London—on the way he produced this account, written in Italian—he said, "Here is the bill which he owes me. It comes to £66, so I have to return him £13"—the items are exaggerated—I took him to Vine police station and charged him—he said, "Yes, with his authorisation."

Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I have known Caccia about twelve

months—I did not know the prisoners were man and wite, but I have found papers which satisfy me they are—I found the papers produced upon Caccia, and this photograph and passport I found in the prisoner's house—I know he has children who are grown up.

Cross-examined by MR. COHEN. I did not think Caccia was inventing a story at the time, but afterwards I thought so—he told me he had spent £17 on the lawyer.

GEORGE JOHNSON . I am a postman, of 28, Stangate Buildings, Stangate Street, Lambeth, in the W.C. district—I remember delivering a letter on January 3rd registered at 6, Princess Court, about 6.30 p.m.—this is the receipt which was given to me when I handed the letter in to the female prisoner in the first instance—while she was beginning to sign for it the male prisoner came and took it from her and signed the receipt himself.

Cross-examinied by MR. O'CONNOR. It is customary for householders to receive and sign for letters for lodgers—we always ask if the persons are living there when they take the letters in.

CHARLES HENRY HOWARD . I live at 2, Sangora Road, New Wandsworth, and am a clerk at the Credit Lyonnais Bank, Lombard Street, the head office in London—on January 4th a man I do not remember presented a cheque for which I gave eight £5 notes and the rest in gold and silver—he gave the name of Ganna Mario and identified himself by letters and envelopes in his possession—the numbers on the notes are 35001-8 and they are dated August 4th, 1904—I did not see him endorse the cheque—it is endorsed.

WILLIAM RICHARD PERCY LAWRENCE . I am a clerk in the Issue Department of the Bank of England—on February 18th I remember a woman accompanied by a boy presenting a £5 note number 35005, dated August 4th, 1904—at my request she or the boy wrote her name on it—she had to go near the stove, where the inkpot is—on the back is "4, Buchlar, Princess Court"—then on the front, "4, Buchlar"—when she came back to the counter I saw that it was a stopped note—I took her to the secretary's office and left her there.

Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. She seemed to act candidly.

The prisoner Caccia, in his defence on oath, said that £66 or a little more was due to him from the prosecutor, who had authorised him to take it out of the money coming from his father, and that the note taken to the bank was from his sister, who lived at Belfort, France; and that he did not know he was committing forgery, but thought he was following the prosecutor's instruction

Buchlar, in her defence on oath, said she was married to Caccia at Wassen near Milan, fourteen years ago, and had four children, the eldest of whom was born in 1892; that she had not said she was not married to him, but had lived a long time with him; that she signed for letters when her husband was not in, but her husband had gone away and she opened a letter and was satisfied to find money because she was poor.

BUCHLAR NOT GUILTY . CACCIA GUILTY ; he was stated to have been an associate of bad characters— Three years' penal servitude.

THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, March, 7th, 1905.

Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.

Reference Number: t19050306-242

242. THOMAS COLLINS (40) PLEADED GUILTY to indecently exposing himself in Motley Avenue and Fanshaw Street. He received a good character. Twelve months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-243

(243.) WILLIAM WATERMAN CHAPMAN (29) , to forging and uttering endorsements on four orders for the payment of £20, £10, £5, and £20 respectively, with intent to defraud; also to forging a request for money. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] He received a good character in the Army: Eleven months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-244

(244.) JOHN ANDERSON (46) , to attempting to break and enter the warehouse of the British Tea Table Company, with intent to steal therein; also to being found by night with an implement of house-breaking in his possession. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] A previous conviction was proved against him. Seven months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-245

(245.) AUGUSTE MUSLER (18) and RAOUL CHELARD (16) , to forging and uttering a request for the payment of 200 francs with intent to defraud. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] A previous conviction was proved against MUSLER— Twelve months' hard labour. CHELARD Six months' hard labour. —and

Reference Number: t19050306-246

(246.) JOSEPH ERNEST ROWE (32) , to feloniously marrying Maud Alice Payne, his wife being alive. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] He received a good character. Nine months in the Second Division.

Reference Number: t19050306-247

247. LEOPOLD CASTLE (21) and JAMES GEORGE YOXALL (19) , Stealing eleven bags of leather, the property of John Henry Francis.

MR. H. T. WRIGHT Prosecuted.

JOHN HENRY FRANCIS . I am a waste paper and metal merchant, of 27, Huggin Lane, E.C.—I have a lot of waste leather cuttings at times, which I am in the habit of selling to a Mr. Robinson at £9 per ton or 9s. 4d. per cwt.—having some cuttings to sell, I wrote to him a few weeks ago at 13, Bastwick Street and my letter was returned to me by the Post Office "Not known"—I then went to a house in Bastwick Street, where I saw a man named Robinson, but not the Robertson who dealt with me, and he referred me to 59, Bastwick Street, where I saw a man named Sellwood, whom my partner knew, but whom I had never seen before—I gave him my card—some days afterwards I found that Robinson, the man with whom I dealt, had removed to Bethnal Green—I went there and saw him with reference to my cuttings and he said he would call for them on the Saturday or the first thing on Monday morning—about 4 p.m. on February 24th, the Friday before this Saturday, I found that these cuttings of mine, which were worth two guineas to me, were gone, and I did not know who took them—I immediately went to see Robinson—at the time I saw Sellwood his wife and a young woman, whom I have since found was Yoxall's wife, were present—I traced the cuttings, and identified them at Mr. Lyons' shop.

PERCY FRANCIS WINTER . I am Mr. Francis' partner—on Friday, February 24th, a little after 2 p.m., a man came to the shop and asked for some cuttings, saying he came from Robinson—I said he could have

them, and he then said he would come back with another man—I was expecting somebody to come from Robinson to clear the cuttings—he then came back with Castle and said that their guvn'or told them that if there were half a ton of the stuff they were to allow me more, and the fair man, who was the first one that had called, said he could not allow me the money because there was not the quantity—Castle then turned round and said, "Oh, give them 6s."—they did not actually give me any money—it was Mr. Robinson's custom to give me the money before he took the goods away—they both said they came from Robinson—they then drove off in a one-horse van with the goods—Mr. Francis came in shortly afterwards, and I told him what had happened.

By the COURT. The first man that came was neither of the prisoners—he said he would come back with a van—the first man said that as there was not half a ton he could not allow me 6s. but only 5s. 6d., whereupon Castle said, "Oh, give them 6s. We will make that all right when we get home."

Cross-examined by Castle. I cannot say if you were there when the first man was actually signing the receipt for the goods, but you were there when it was being made out.

Re-examined. They gave me a receipt, which I have left with the Court—it was written out and signed by the first man, who signed himself as "Arthur Cunningham"—the value of the goods was two guineas.

WILLIAM ROBINSON . I am a leather dealer, of 78, Sclater Street, Brick Lane—seven months ago I lived at 13, Bastwick Street—I was in the habit of buying leather cuttings from Francis and I had agreed to send for some either on the Saturday or Monday at the end of last month—Francis came to me on February 24th to know if I were going to clear the cuttings—I said I could not clear them till Saturday or Monday the next week, and he said, "Do not make it any later than that"—he afterwards came to me and said, "You have not had the cuttings, have you?" and I said, "No, I cannot clear them till Monday"—"Well," he says, "somebody has cleared them in your name"—I had not authorised either of the prisoners, or anybody else to fetch those cuttings—Yoxall has been working for me on and off for two years, and has been in the habit of clearing cuttings for me, as also has his father-in-law, Sellwood—when Francis came to me on the 24th he asked me if there were any chance of tracing the cuttings, and I said I was sure there was as it appeared to me to have been done by somebody who worked for me, and who knew the places where I took the cuttings to—I then went with him to the principal people that I was in the habit of taking my goods to, and after trying two or three places we got into Brick Lane, where we told two policemen at the corner the circumstances of the case and asked them if they had seen a van pull up there—they said they had not—we then went to Mrs. Smith's shop, a leather dealer in Brick Lane, and I showed her a sample of my leather cuttings, and asked her if she had been offered a parcel of such goods—she said she had, and these cuttings were going to be brought in half an hour—we told the policeman that—as soon as the van pulled up about 5.45 p.m., Yoxall and another man, whom I did not know, went

into the shop and were then taken into custody and taken to the station—I was asked by the policeman if I knew who the man was that was showing the article in the shop, Castle, but I did not know him; neither did I know the carman, but I knew Yoxall as working for me—Francis identified the cuttings.

Cross-examined by Yoxall. You went to Francis on many occasions for cuttings for me, and so did your father-in-law—I cannot say the last occasion on which you went—you have been with me to sell cuttings to Mrs. Smith—you took charge of my pony and van whilst I was in the shop, if you did not go inside.

By the COURT. It was not my pony and van that I saw at Brick Lane.

RECECCA LYONS . I am the wife of Albert Lyons and trade at 227, Brick Lane, in the name of "R. Smith" as a leather dealer—about 5.40 p.m., on February 24th, the prisoners, whom I have never seen before, came and showed me a little sample of a leather cutting, and asked me if I would buy some, but they asked such a high price that I could not buy them—no deal took place, and they were getting into a van outside when two policemen came up—the next morning I picked up a leather cutting in the passage, which might have been mine or might have been somebody else's, as the best part of my stock is this kind of stuff—I showed it to the policemen—the prisoners did not say where they had got the cuttings from.

By the COURT. They both showed me two pieces of leather; it might have been three—they both of them spoke to me—as soon as the policemen came up I saw there was a van outside.

WILLIAM TILLEY (25 H.R.) About 5.15 p.m., on February 24th, I was on duty in Virginia Road, Bethnal Green, with another constable, when Francis came up to me and said he had lost a van load of leather cuttings—I said, "Where have you lost them from?"—he said, "Huggin Lane, City"—I asked him if he could give me a description of the van, or anything, and he said, "No," and I then advised him to go to the police station—I went to Brick Lane, and kept observation on No. 277—about 5.45 p.m. a van drove up and two men jumped out and went into No. 277—I went up to the carman and told him to get down; I then said to them all, "Consider yourselves in custody"—shortly afterwards Robinson and Francis came up, and Mr. Francis said, pointing to Castle, "That is my man. I will charge him"—the men were taken to Commercial Street station, where they were detained—on the way to the station Castle said, "I employed those two men. They cannot know anything about it. I am employed by a fair-haired man," meaning the driver—I went back for the driver, but could not find him, but he was eventually taken to Cloak Lane police station—he was not charged, as I had not sufficient evidence to connect him with it—I am quite certain that Yoxall was the man who took the sample in.

ROBERT HODGES (Detective, City). On Friday, February 24th, at 9 p.m., I was at Cloak Lane police station when the prisoners were brought in—after being cautioned, Castle said, in reply to the charge, "All I have to say is, this man," meaning Yoxall," is innocent of anything at all. I

called round at his house to give him a couple of hours' work when he came with me to Brick Lane on the van."

JOSEPH EVANS . I am a carman and contractor, of 2, President Place, where I work with my father, I managing the vans, and he the wood—on February 24th Castle and another man came to me and said they wanted a van to go to Huggin Lane, City, to get some leather cuttings, and from there to go to Brick Lane—I went with them in a van to Huggin Lane, I driving—on reaching there I looked after the van, and did not see them going into a shop—they then came up with some sacks on a trolley and put them on the van—Castle said to me, "Drive to St. Martin's Lane"—on getting there we waited about a quarter of an hour for a pal whom Castle said he was expecting—on the pal not turning up Castle said, "Drive me to Gee Street"—on getting to Gee Street I pulled up at the corner of Golden Lane as it was such a narrow thoroughfare—I went to a coffee shop to have some tea while Castle went to try and find his pal—he came back and said he had left a note for him, saying that he would either be at the coffee shop or at Brick Lane—he went away again and brought back Yoxall—it was then 6.30 p.m., and as I had something else to do I asked another carman to take Castle and Yoxall to Brick Lane—I know Castle from having done one job for him before—it was he who paid me.

Cross-examined by Castle. I helped you to load up the last sack—I am certain you said pal and not guv'nor—there is not room for two vans in Gee Street.

Re-examined. Gee Street is the next turning to Bastwick Street—I have only been down there a few times.

Castle's statement before the Magistrate: "I should like you to read this statement to show you that I am an innocent man. I am being punished for the guilt of another man who the police are now searching for; if he is not found, the police tell me, I shall have to suffer for the lot. This man employed me to do odd jobs for him from the City to any place he might tell me to go. On Friday, February 24th, he came round to the place I was stopping at, and told me he had a load of goods coming home from the City, but I would have to get a van. I gets the van, and he tells the carman to drive to Huggin Lane, City; when we get there he tells me to take the weight of the stuff as the man weighs it off. I did so, and after we had loaded up he tells me I need not wait for him, but to go off and have some tea and meet him at Smith's, of Brick Lane, about 5.30. On the way home the carman tells me he will have to go home and get another carman to take the van as he has his own regular job to do at six o'clock. While the carman is having his tea, I leave the van under his care while I go to a friend of mine to ask him to come and give me a help to unload when we got to Brick Lane. On our arrival at Smith's, of Brick Lane, me and my friend jumps down and goes in smith thinking to find my employer there, but he had not come yet. On going out of the shop we was stopped by two constables, who asked us Whether we was in charge of cuttings what was in the van, and I answered "Yes," The constable then told me he would have to take me in charge as the goods had been

stolen, and we was both taken to the station and charged with being concerned with a man, not in custody, of obtaining or stealing goods by means of a trick. The man Yoxall did not even know where the goods had come from, but merely came for a ride with me, thinking to earn something by helping me to unload. All I have stated here I swear, by my Heavenly Father, is the truth, and nothing but the truth."

Yoxall's statement before the Magistrate: "About five o'clock last Friday this man asked me to do a couple of hours' work. I said, 'Yes.' He said, 'Come for a ride as far as Brick Lane in a van.' When I got there I was coming out of the door, when two constables came in. When these people went for the cuttings I was having dinner with my wife."

Castle: "That is all I have to say."

Yoxall, in his defence on oath, said that Castle, whom he had known for seven or eight years, came and asked him to do a couple of hours' work for him; that he went with him and another man, whom he did not know, to Mrs. Smith's shop, in Brick Lane, where he was arrested; that he did not know where the cuttings came from, nor for what reason they were taken to Brick Lane, that he did not ask Mrs. Smith to buy any; that he had never been to the shop before with Robinson, but that he thought it was another Mrs. Smith, of Brick Lane that he had gone to; that he had worked for a man named Roberts, a waste paper dealer, with a barrow, sometimes two or three times a week; and that he did not know whether Roberts was in partnership with Castle or not.

Evidence in Reply.

WILLIAM ROBINSON (Re-examined). I have been with Yoxall to this shop of Mrs. Lyons—it was formerly occupied by Mrs. Smith, who has now gone lower down Brick Lane.

CASTLE GUILTY . YOXALL NOT GUILTY . CASTLE then pleaded GUILTY to a conviction of felony at North London Sessions on May 13th, 1902, in the name of Edward Franklin. Eight previous convictions were proved against him. He received a bad character from the police. Eighteen months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-248

248. GEORGE FROST (50) and DAVID HATT , Committing an act of gross indecency with each other.

MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.

HATT PLEADED GUILTY. FROST GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.

HATT discharged on his own recognisances.

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 8th, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Darling.

Reference Number: t19050306-249

249. ARTHUR TABOR (54) PLEADED GUILTY to fraudently converting to his own use and benefit a cheque for £1,955 10s. entrusted to him as a trustee, with intent to defraud; also to fraudulently converting to his own use and benefit various other property with which he had been entrusted.

it was stated that the prisoner's liabilities were £14,523. Five years' penal servitude.

(For other cases tried this day see Essex and Surrey cases.)

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 8th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-250

250. WILLIAM MILLAR FLEMING (35) , Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement on a cheque for the payment of £2 14s. 11d. with intent to defraud.

MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted.

SYDNEY ELLIS . I carry on business with my brother as F. & S. Ellis, glass merchants, at 106, Fenchurch Street—the prisoner had been employed by us as general clerk for about five months—during my absence it was part of his duty to receive moneys paid to the firm—if I was there I would receive them—the prisoner would give a receipt, and a counterfoil of it would remain in the receipt book—it would be his duty to enter immediately the amount in the cash hook and the money or cheque should be handed to me directly I returned—we had a customer named Roddy, at Colchester—in January last he owed us £2 14s. 11d. for goods supplied—this cheque was sent us, but I never saw it till we received it back from Mr. Roddy—the prisoner never handed the cheque to me—it is indorsed "F. & S. Ellis," but not by me or by my authority or by my brother—I am the only one who has the power to indorse cheques, which I do in a different manner to my usual signature—the receipt of the amount was not entered in the cash book—on another counterfoil there appears 3s. received from a Mr. Roberts—it is in the prisoner's writing—the prisoner had given Mr. Roberts a receipt on the invoice without using the receipt form, which was irregular—we never received Mr. Roberts' cheque.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. When you were arrested at Balham you were charged with embezzling £1 8s. 9d.—that was one of the items charged against you—you were then charged with stealing a cheque, value £2 14s. 11d.—at the station the inspector asked me if it was my writing on the cheque—I could not identify it at the time and said I should go into the matter later—receipts used sometimes to be torn out of the book to be used if required—those not used are returned to the book—it is not true that I gave you the cheque to change and to take a sovereign out of it as a loan—you bought towels for use in the office and you were paid immediately for them—there is no foundation for saying I have cheated my brother—we do not owe you any money.

Re-examined. Items may sometimes have been entered on the wrong counterfoils, but the amount would appear somewhere in the book—I have never had any accusation made against me of having swindled my brother—the prisoner has made no claim for money owing.

WILLIAM MICHAEL RODDY I am a licensed victualler at the Greyhound, Colchester—I deal with the prosecutors—in January I owed them £2 14s. 11d.—this is the invoice—I sent them this cheque in payment enclosing the invoice, and got back a receipt—I have since obtained the cheque from my bank—it was passed through the bank and paid—it appears to be endorsed by the firm.

MARGARET MEIKLE . I am cashier to Morrison & Fleet's Dairies, Limited,

at 14, Bellevue Road, Wandsworth Common—the prisoner was a customer of ours—in January he owed us 5s. 4 1/2 d.—he came on January 28th to pay us and produced this cheque—it was already indorsed—I took the 5s. 4 1/2 d. out of it and gave him the change—I asked him if the cheque was all right—he said yes, that was the name of the firm under which he was trading—I know him as Fleming.

Cross-examined. You may have said on a previous occasion that that was the name of the firm under which you were trading.

By the COURT. He had brought a cheque to us before to be changed.

Re-examined. This is the cheque for £6 that was changed before by us.

DYDNEY ELLIS (Re-examined). This cheque for £6 was sent to us by a customer—it is not endorsed by me or my firm—I had no idea it had been paid till we made inquiries.

WILLIAM NEWALL (Detective-Sergeant, City). On February 17th I went with Mr. Ellis, the last witness, to 14, Glenfield Road, Balham, where the prisoner lived—I searched the house and went to a back room upstairs—I heard a noise of a window being softly opened—I ran quickly into the room and saw the prisoner getting through the window—he had an under-suit on with no boots—I shouted to Mr. Ellis to run round to the back, and rushed across the room—by the time I got to the window the prisoner was hanging from the window sill by his hands—I caught hold of him and pulled him back—I told him I was a police officer and should arrest him on a charge of embezzlement—he said, "That is all right, I have a complete answer to this; he" (meaning Mr. Ellis) "gave me the cheque. I have been expecting something of this kind"—he was charged at the station in respect of the item of £2 14s. 11d.—when charged with forging the indorsement on the cheque, he said, "That is all right; is that all?"

Cross-examined. You made no explanation as to the getting out of the window—you did not say that you were not surprised at this occurring as Mr. Ellis' brother was rather an excitable man—the words you used were what I have said.

THOMAS CONNOR . (Not examined in chief.)

Cross-examined. I am a porter to the prosecutor—one or two days previous to your leaving the prosecutor's employ you gave me 3s. to buy stamps with, which I did—I put them on the letters and posted the letters.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he did not indorse the cheque; that he could not say who did, that Mr. Ellis must have indorsed it; that he (Mr. Ellis) handed it to him already indorsed for him (the prisoner) to take a sovereign on loan from it; that he gave Mr. Ellis back £1 14s. 11d.; that Mr. Ellis was not an honest man; that he (the prisoner) admitted that he had been convicted of felony; that he went to the prosecutors with a letter from Mr. Wheatley, but that he was not engaged out of charity; and that he was innocent of the charge brought against him. GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour.

MR. ELLIS, in answer to the COURT, stated that he was not aware, when the prisoner was engaged, that he had been convicted of felony, but thought it was simply for drunkenness.

FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, March 8th, 1905.

Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.

Reference Number: t19050306-251

251. WILLIAM CLARKE OLIPHANT (36) , Embezzling and stealing a banker's cheque, viz., an order for the payment of 3,670 francs in French money received by him.

MR. MUIR and MR. R. B. MURPHY Prosecuted; MR. A. GILL and

MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Defended.

JAMES MCCLUSKEY . I am in the service of Sandon & Co., tailors, at their Paris branch—the prisoner in 1904, and up till January of this year, was in charge of that branch—Baron Robert de Rothschild was a customer of the firm in Paris, and in February, 1904, he owed £146 15s. 6d.—I went to him to collect that account, and I got from him this cheque (Ex. C), dated February 12th, 1904, for which I gave him this receipt, (Ex. B.), on which I recognise my signature—this was about 8 p.m., and next morning I handed the prisoner the cheque—it was made payable to him in accordance with instructions I received from him, to prevent having to send the cheque to London for indorsement—in the ordinary course the cheque would be indorsed and paid into the Credit Lyonnais, and this cheque is indorsed by the prisoner—I obtained this receipt (Ex. D.) from M. Stern's secretary for the purposes of this prosecution; that is all I know about M. Stern's account.

CHARLES WILKILSON . I am a clerk employed by Sandon & Co. at their Paris branch—Mr. Stern's valet came to the shop, saying he would first go to the bank to cash a cheque, and then would come back and pay M. Stern's account—I told the prisoner what the valet had said, and at his request I made out this receipt (Ex. D.) ready for him when he came back—I was told afterwards by the prisoner that the valet had come in and paid the money—this receipt is not dated—I was instructed not to date receipts by the prisoner—this was about March 25th.

Cross-examined. The reason he told me not to date receipts was that he did not always receive from the London office his cheque for petty cash, and he had to use money that he received, and afterwards bank it: and he did not want the dates on the receipt and on the bank book to be different—I cannot tell you whether I thought that to be a proper explanation for not putting in the dates; I had to go by the orders I received.

WILLIAM JAMES MOORE . I am a partner in the firm of Sandon & Co., tailors, of 8. Saville Row, W., and we have a branch at 5, Rue Clement Marot, Paris—the prisoner is our agent; he is called that in our agreement with him; on May 27th, 1898, he was the manager of our business over there under that agreement—the prisoner was certainly our servant. [Paragraph 4 of the agreement was then read, in which it was stated that the said William Clarke Oliphant should keep proper books of account, in which he should enter every transaction and matter, however small, in any wise concerning the agency; that on Monday in every week, except bank Holidays, he should send a full, correct and dear statement in writing of all monies goods, orders and transactions which were received, sold, delivered,

or should have taken place in relation to the agency during the preceding week; and that he should send till monies received by him direct to them. Paragraph 8 stated that Sandon & Co. agreed to pay the rent and all other expenses in connection with the establishment in Paris, and that the prisoner should not incur expenses without their special authority in writing.] I cannot say that all monies received by the prisoner were remitted to London, as at first the expenses he was put to were deducted from the money that he received until we got into a more regular method of proceeding—he bought a banker's cheque and remitted the balance to us in London—in June, 1901, we opened an account with the Credit Lyonnais in Paris, and after that date instead of remittances being made to us, it was his duty to pay every penny he received into the bank in Paris without any deduction whatever—we sent him a cheque on that same bank for the amount of his expenses, and he went to the Dank, drew the amount of the cheque, and so was put in funds—in the first instance a sum of £20 was placed at his disposal in cash, so that he could pay his petty expenses, and that sum was renewed every week—he used to send me a slip day by day recording the amounts paid into the Paris bank; if he paid in to-day, he would send the slip in the evening—I have a bundle of such slips received by me, in the prisoner's handwriting in 1904, and January, 1905—on receiving these slips I would enter the amounts on them in a book called the Paris Cash Account, kept specially for that purpose (Produced)—I had no other means of making entries in that book except from the slips—I have the receipt (Ex. B.) and the cheque (Ex. C.) before me relating to Baron de Rothschild's account—the prisoner did not tell Us he had received that cheque until he came to London in January, and that account remained on our books all the time as unpaid, and it is now—I have the receipt before me (Ex. D.) for £160 0s. 7d. received from M. Stern—the prisoner did not let us know that he had received that cheque until January, and that account still remains on our books as if it were unpaid—the prisoner went through this book (Ledger produced) with me about twice a year, and certainly last year he did so in April and September—on those occasions he never called my attention to the fact that there were no entries relating to the two accounts of Baron de Rothschild and M. Stern—on the morning of January 14th I received this letter (Ex. K.) from him, addressed from the Langham Hotel: "Dear Sir,—When you have finished your pressing morning's work, could I trouble you to come and see me here? Kindly give an answer to bearer and oblige"—I had previously written him in Paris, saying that I intended going over to Paris in the early weeks of this year, and I received a letter from him suggesting that January was not a very good month in which to come to Paris, for some reasons not connected with business, and he suggested that I should leave it until a little later—I then wrote and said I was willing to defer it until the middle of February, and I received a letter from him saying he wished that I would go to Paris immediately, and that if I did not come he would come over to see me, and asking me to wire as to what I was going to do—I wired confirming my previous arrangement to go in the middle of February, and the next thing I heard was his note from the

Langham Hotel on the Saturday morning—I gave a verbal message to the bearer that if the prisoner wished to see me he was to come to Saville Row before eleven o'clock that morning—he came and I invited him into one of the private rooms, and, having closed the door, I said "Well, Oliphant, what is the matter?"—he said, "Well, I have made an ass of myself"—I said, "What have you been doing?" and after a few rambling remarks he began to tell me that he had received certain sums of money which he had not paid into the bank and not accounted for, and he produced a slip with nine names on it (Ex. A.) with the sums opposite, amounting in English money to £745 5s. 6d., and said that he had received those monies, and had not accounted for them—there is a mistake in that list, the accounts against two of the names being transposed—I said, "Well, Oliphant, I might not have been surprised at your having made an ass of yourself, but it is a very different thing to come and confess to me that you are a thief," and I explained to him that it was an affair with which I could not deal—having consulted my partner, I sent round to Vine Street for a police inspector—Sergeant Tupper came first, and then Inspector Drew a few minutes later—I made a statement of the facts to Inspector Drew as far as I knew them—he then repeated to the prisoner the statement I had made to him, and the prisoner made a statement—he was taken into custody—if the prisoner received an order in Paris he wrote it out on a slip and sent it over to us, and we made the garments and sent them over—if there were slight alterations, they would be made in Paris, but anything taxing the skill of the staff would be sent over here—the accounts were sent to the customers from here, and generally in English money, except when we specially transferred it into French money for the convenience of a French customer—our accounts here Are kept in English money.

Cross-examined. The prisoner had nothing to do with the books that related to the business of the firm generally in London, but there were no other account books referring to the Paris business except those kept in London, and those he went through with me when he came to London—it is his duty by paragraph 3 of the agreement to use his best endeavours to solicit and to procure orders—he began those duties in 1898, and certainly he has been very successful—the year prior to his entering our employment we did about £2,000 a year turn-over in Paris, which has been raised to £7,000 a year since the prisoner has been acting for us—I am not interested to dispute the fact that that was the result of his procuring orders for us—those would be the gross receipts—our trade is done with people who are, generally speaking, in a better class of society than ourselves; that is to say, wealthy people—I should not say that any servant of ours was brought into contact with customers who are socially above himself; there would be no question of association—I wrote to the prisoner about his looking up his horsy friends and getting their accounts paid; I had previously written to him warning him against taking orders from jockeys and horsey people, and that the credit of jockeys was not good enough—I believe M. Stern is a sportsman—we cater largely for owners of race horses, because we are sporting tailors; our chief production

is riding breeches—I have learnt since that the names on the slip is not an inclusive statement; I have had one or two accounts repudiated since—I suppose he could have run away if he had liked, and not come to England and confessed—I most distinctly refused to entertain any proposal of any kind in face of his statement to me—he said that he would see that every penny was paid back, but I am a business man and I have heard things like that before—I have heard of such a thing as compounding a felony—I did not mention that at the time—he kept in Paris a book in which he recorded the orders, but no account books of any kind.

Re-examined. He kept the Petty Cash Account on slips, which he sent to me, and I entered them into the Paris Cash Account.

EDWARD DREW (Inspector C.) About 11 a.m. on January 14th I went to Sandon & Co.'s shop, 8, Saville Row, where I had some conversation with Mr. Moore—I went into another room, where the prisoner was being detained, and told him that Mr. Moore had told me that he had come here to give himself up on a charge of embezzling £700 odd, monies that he had received on their behalf—he said, "It is quite right. The amount will come to £745. I am very sorry indeed, but, whatever the result of this case is, I shall in due course pay every penny of it back"—I showed him this document (Ex. A.) which I had got from Mr. Moore, and he said, "That is the list of monies I have received. I wrote it myself before I came here. I have lent the money to a gentleman in Paris for stock broking purposes to pay his debts. He told me he had to pay 10,000 francs. It has been going on now since February 26th last"—I wrote that statement down in his presence after cautioning him, and read it over to him—I then conveyed him to Vine Street police station, where he was charged, and on searching him I found £1 gold, a French 50 franc note, 5s. in silver, and a French pawn ticket for a ring; he said the ring was one he had advanced a man 100 francs on, and it is pawned for 30 francs; and an I.O.U. for 18,000 francs, dated February 26th, 1904, in Paris (Ex. L, produced) and signed by a man named Barber—when I was writing down the word "stock broking" he leaned over me and said, "To pay his debts"—he did not explain why he should pay Barber's debts out of the firm's money.

WILLIAM JAMES MOORE (Re-examined by the COURT). Barber is no customer of ours, and I know nothing about him—there is absolutely no reason why the firm's money should be paid to him.

MR. GILL submitted that there was no prima facie case made out by the prosecution of embezzlement having being committed within the jurisdiction of the COURT, and that the offence was completed in Paris (Reg. v. Ellis, 1899, 1 Q.B.D. Greaves' statement in Russell on Crimes, 5th ed.; Reg, v. Davison, 7 Cox's Criminal Cases).

MR. MUIR submitted that the COURT had jurisdiction, since the offence was committed in England, the acts on which he rushed being firstly, the non-accounting within a reasonable time after the receipt of the monies; secondly, the false accounting by the omission from slips of dates following the receipts of those monies; thirdly, non-payment over on January 14th of the monies (Chitty's Criminal Law, vols. 1 and 3, Queen v. Munton, 1 Espinasse,

Taylor's case, 2 Leach Reg. v. Rogers, 1877, 3 Q.B.D., Reg. v, Treadgold, M Cox's Criminal Cases, Rex. v. Girdwood, 1 Leach, Rex. v. lewis. Dearsley and Bell's Crown Cases, Coombe's case 1 Leach).

The COURT held that there was nothing in the evidence or in MR. MUIR'S argument to show that the prisoner did anything in England, and that the offence of misappropriation was completed in Paris, and, on MR. MUIR'S application, refused to take a special verdict from the Jury on the facts, but directed them to return a verdict of Not Guilty, there being no evidence to go to them of any offence committed in England.

NOT GUILTY . (See page 778.)

OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 9th, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Darling.

Reference Number: t19050306-252

252. HARRY WICKS (19) , Unlawfully and carnally knowing Florence Donoghue, a girl under the age of thirteen years.

MR. FORDGHAM Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

(For other cases tried this day, see County Cases.)

FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, March 9th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.

(For the case of William David Jones, tried this day, see Surrey Cases.)

OLD COURT.—Friday, March 10th, 1905.

Before Mr. Justice Darling.

Reference Number: t19050306-253

253. FLORENCE SEARS (35) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully publishing a defamatory libel of and concerning Fanny Elizabeth Luke.

Discharged on recognisances.

(For the case of Albert Edward Thompson, tried this day, see Kent Cases.)

FOURTH COURT.—Friday, March 10th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.

Reference Number: t19050306-254

254. JOHN HART (36), CHARLES JOHN HAYES (19), JOHN HENRY MANNING (27), and WILLIAM ADAMS (21) . Unlawfully and fraudulently obtaining from Charles Sharp and Lynch & Co., Ltd. six razors and other articles; from Edward Gage and Francis Newbery & Sons, Ltd., twenty-four bottles of Bovril and other articles by false pretences, with intent to defraud. Two other Counts: Conspiring together to defraud Lynch & Co., Ltd., and Francis Newbery & Sons, Ltd., of their goods. HART and HAYES PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. TEMPLE MARTIN Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Appeared for Manning, and MR. R. B. MURPHY for Adams.

FREDERICK COLLINGHAM (480 City). On February 17th, about 3 p.m., I was in Falcon Square, City—I was in uniform, but off duty—I saw Adams, Hart, and Hayes standing talking on the footway—Hart was carrying a large case which apparently contained Bovril—it was tied up very roughly—Adams and Hayes went to a urinal, leaving Hart by himself, still carrying the case—he walked by me and went into a shop, No. 2, Falcon Square—he came out again in about two minutes—from information I received I followed him and stopped him—I said, "What have you got in that case?" (MR. MURPHY objected to the statement as not being evidence against Adams, which objection the COURT upheld.)—I took Hayes to Moor Lane police station, where he was charged with the unlawful possession of the case of Bovril—I there discovered on him a bottle of lozenges, labelled "Lynch & Co., Silver Street, Aldersgate Street."

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. I did not see Adams again that day—I saw him next morning after his arrest.

WILLIAM WESCOMBE . I am a clerk to Moore & Co., wholesale chemists and druggists, 125, Houndsditch—Hayes was in our employment for three and a half years; he left on February 14th—these orders, D, E, and F, are not on our printed paper—they are in Hayes' writing—one is dated February 17th for Palma violet lozenges, and razors and strops—Hayes had no authority to give these orders, or to receive the goods—he had no authority from us to give on February 17th a telephone order to Newbery's for two cases of Bovril—I know nothing about Adams except that he was a friend of Hayes.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. There is no mention of Adams' name on either of these orders—they are written, as appears by the back, on Lynch's paper—my employers desire to recommend Hayes to mercy on account of his exemplary conduct while in their employ—before February 14th he had no authority to order goods—he went round with orders written by me.

Re-examined. It is not our firm's practice for employees to obtain goods and go round selling them.

CHARLES SHARP . I am a counterman to Lynch & Co., 15, Silver Street, City—I know Hayes as a messenger from Moore's, of Houndsditch—he came to us with this order on Thursday, February 16th—it is written on one of our forms—it purports to be an order from Moore & Co. for six razors and strops—Adams was with Hayes—our boy brought the order to me which I executed—I thought it was a genuine order from Moore's—I gave the goods to Adams—Hayes signed for them—I have identified five of these razors.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. They are not very high quality—they are shilling strops and 2s. razors.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. When Hayes came into the shop, he had not any order with him—he wrote out orders on our paper—Adams, in my presence, said nothing about the orders—the lozenges were

obtained on the 17th—Adams was not there then—I did not see him at all then.

EDWARD GAGE . I am a counterman to Messrs. Newbery & Sons, druggists, 27, Charterhouse Square, City—I have known Hayes for about three years as an employee of Messrs. Moore, of Houndsditch—I have received orders from him on the telephone and know his voice perfectly well, and if I get an order in that way I execute it—on Friday, February 17th, Hayes rang me up on the telephone and gave me an order for two dozen 1-lb. bottles of Bovril—he said it was special, and the messenger was on the road for it, and if we had not got it in stock, would I give him an order to go to the company for it—about twelve o'clock Adams came in for the Bovril—I knew him as coming to our place with Hayes—this order, marked D on the Bovril Company was given to him in consequence of the telephone message which I believed to be a genuine message from Messrs. Moore & Co.; I should not otherwise have given it.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. This order was written by our stock-keeper—I did not give Adams the order in consequence of what he (Adams) said—he simply said he had come for the Bovril—I believed that if orders were given by Hayes he had authority to give them—the other orders we have received have been satisfactory.

EDWARD MANN . I am a clerk to Messrs. Bovril, Ltd., of Old Street and Bunhill Row, E.C.—this order, marked D was handed to me on February 17th—I did not recognise the bearer—I handed him two cases of Bovril, each containing twelve 16-oz. bottles—they weigh about 30 lbs. each case—I cannot identify the cases—the two were worth £5 8s.

JOHN STEWART (Detective-Sergeant, City). On February 17th I went to Shadwell police station, and there saw in custody Hayes, Manning and Adams—I told them I was a police officer, and that they would be taken to Moor Lane police station, where they would be charged with being concerned with a man already in custody, named Hart, in obtaining goods by forged orders—Hayes said, "You are quite right"—Manning made no reply—they were taken to Moor Lane—they there all three volunteered to make statements, which were taken down in rough notes—Hart was then brought out, and the statements were read over before all four—they were signed by the prisoners—I asked them if there was anything wrong in the statements and they said no, they were quite right.

MR. FULTON objected to Hayes, statement being read, as it bore no relation to the present charge. The COURT said that if it were possible to exclude anything that affected the other prisoners, reading only the part that referred more closely to the man who had pleaded guilty, it should be done. Part of Hayes' statement was then read]: "To-day, Friday, Adams, Hart and I went to Newbery's. I and Hart waited outside while Adams went in; they, not having the sized bottles we wanted in stock, referred him to Bovril, Ltd., where he got two cases of Bovril, one dozen in each. We afterwards sold one of the cases to a man whom, I think, is named Rolfe, who kept a shop in a basement in Fore Street, opposite Wood Street, for a sovereign. I have obtained a lot of other goods on previous occasions, but I do not remember what they were or what became of them." [Statement by

Manning, made on February 11th, read]: "As I was walking along Cambridge Heath on Thursday I met Hayes, Adams and Hart. We walked along till we got to the City. Hayes brought out some bills and sent Adams to a warehouse; we waited in a public-house, Hart and I together, and Adams came back with a parcel. Adams took the parcel into a shop and sold it; afterwards we shared the money, and Adams gave me 3s. 6d. I was not with them to-day, Friday; the place where I left them last night, the Camden Head, I met them to-night and they asked me to go round to Hart's address, where I was arrested. I have only known Adams and Hart but two days. Hayes I have known for about four months." [Adams' statement, read]: "I have been in the habit of going to Newbery's, Charterhouse Square, and Lynch's, Silver Street, to order various articles for Hayes, and I have also been down to the docks with him to get the medical chest, and on Wednesday, lath inst., I met Hayes and Jack Hart, and we went to Newbery's, Charterhouse Square. Hayes came in with me and wrote out the order, which was for nine bottles of Bovril and two pounds of Plasmon chocolate; the Bovril I sold to a man in a shop in Aldersgate Street, for which I received £1 2s. On Thursday, 16th inst., I went with Hart, Hayes and Manning to Falcon Square, where we all had a drink, when I left the others for a little while. When I came back I saw Hayes with a number of razors and strops; we all then went to the Duke of York's theatre and then to the Lyceum theatre, where we went in, and after the performance we went home, Hart going to sleep with Hayes. About 11 a.m. this morning, the 17th, Hart and Hayes called at my place and Hayes told me he had been ringing up on the telephone, and asked me to go up to Newbery's and see if they had any orders from Moore & Co., Houndsditch, which I did, and when I got there they gave me an order to go to the Bovril Co., Bunhill Row; the order which I took to the Bovril Co. was sealed up, which I handed to a clerk there, and they gave me two dozen Bovril. I carried both cases out and handed one each to Hart and Haves; then Hayes gave me 2d. to get two sheets of brown paper, which we placed round the two cases so that anyone seeing them carrying the cases could not see the marks on the cases. I then took the case that Hayes had been carrying and went to an Italian shop in Fore Street, opposite Wood Street, which is in the basement. I asked the Italian to give me 24s. for it, but I only received £1, which I handed to Hayes; then we went and had dinner and Hayes paid. When we came out of the dining hall we went to try and sell the other case of Bovril which Hart was carrying, and we met him in the neighbourhood of Silver Street. I have a razor and strop at home which Hayes gave me on Thursday."

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. Manning said to me on the 17th, "I was not with them in the City to-day"—I do not know whether he was or not.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. Inquiries have been made about Adams and Manning by another officer—it has come to my knowledge that Adams was employed by one firm just prior to this for seven years—I do not think he has been in any trouble before; also that he was employed at a bookbinder's and by the Great Eastern Railway Company, and

then by the London and North Western Railway Company and others, and that he has been working practically since he left school at the age of twelve and a half years—he is not one of the usual criminal loungers—I cannot say whether he has been seen in bad company by the police prior to the present affair—I said before the Magistrate that I believed the statement he made was a fair and candid statement, and that it was true.

HENRY BOARD (Police-Detective, City). I recovered one razor and one strop from a drawer in Manning's bedroom—I recovered five out of the six stolen.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I believe the razor had been used once—Manning's father is a laundryman and, I believe, is in a comfortable way of business—Manning was living at home with his parents and had a comfortable home—I have made inquiries as to his character—I find he joined the Army in 1895 and served for more than eight years with the colours, that he was about five years in India and served two and a half years during the war—that he gained two medals and four bars for good service, and that his conduct was fairly good, but that he was guilty of trivial offences, such as being half an hour late in camp at night—so far as my investigation has shown, no charge of the slightest character has ever been made against him before—I believe he receives a pension of 3s. 6d. a week, being on the reserve list, and that since he left the Army he has been employed by a large firm of brewers.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. I believe Adams has never been in any trouble before, and that he has been employed at various places.

CHARLES JOHN HAYES (the prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I was formerly in the employment of Messrs. Moore & Co.—on February 15th I was with the other three prisoners—we all went round the City—we all four went to Messrs. Newbery's first—we got one case of Bovril there, two boxes of soap and 2 lbs. of chocolate—the Bovril was sold to an Italian named Rolfe for a sovereign by Adams—the money was shared between us—we ate the chocolate, and the soap was sold at a chemist's shop in the Bethnal Green Road—we all four were there—on the 16th we all four went to Lynch's—we there obtained six razors and six strops—I think I went in while the other three stayed in a public-house—we went to the Lyceum theatre in the evening and afterwards to the Duke of York's—on the 17th, with the exception of Manning, we went to Newbery's—I telephoned there for the two cases of Bovril—Adams went and got it—the others waited outside—we again went to Rolfe's shop, where Adams went in—he was arrested with the case on his shoulder—I have known him for five or six years—he has been going round with me getting orders—before I left Moore's he never went with me to sell goods—it was no part of my duty to go round to shops selling goods—I made a statement at the police station, which was read over to me—I signed it—it is correct.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I was first asked to give evidence this morning—I said at first I would not, as I did not like the idea of it I

think now it will be better for me to give this evidence—that is why I am giving it.

Cross-examined by MR. MURPHY. told somebody this morning I would not give evidence—then I changed my mind, but I did not know I was going into the box—I was simply told by the warder to go round and turn to the left—when I came through the door I was shown my way into the box—I had not before that volunteered to give evidence—I declined to do so—Adams helped mo before this in my legitimate business—I had not then started on this career of defrauding—on the 16th, before starting, I told the others, including Adams, that I was going to get some Bovril and sell it—I did not say anything to him to show him that I had no authority to get it; I simply said, "Let us get some Bovril and we will sell it"—this fraud was entirely my idea—I conceived it the day after I was first out of employment—I knew Adams had been working since he was about twelve and a half years old, and that he was a decent young fellow—I have had a good character as well as Adams—I did not seek to destroy his character—I asked him to come round with me to get the Bovril and he said, "Yes"—I know it has done harm to his character.

Re-examined. Adams tried to sell the second lot of Bovril.

MANNING and ADAMS were given good characters. GUILTY . Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t19050306-255

255. ARTHUR BRAEGER (19), SERAFINO GILLIA (27), JULIUS SENDER (25), ENRICO MANZI (26), and VALENTINE RIGOZZI (20) , Stealing certain umbrellas belonging to Howard Morley and others. BRAEGER, GILLIA, MANZI and RIGOZZI PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. C. E. JONES Prosecuted; MR. BASIL WATSON Defended.

ROBERT LYON (Detective-Inspector, City). About noon on February 20th I went with Detective Stewart to Messrs. Morley's premises in Wood Street, where I saw Braeger—in consequence of information received I took him into custody on a charge of stealing two and a half dozen umbrellas that morning—as we walked along he pointed to Sender—I went up to Sender and told him I was a police officer—I then called Braeger to me—I said to Sender, "This youth told me that he had been stealing umbrellas and handing them to you"—he said, "I don't know the boy"—Braeger said, "Yes, he is the man, but there is another man"—I asked Sender where the other man was, mentioning the name of Serafino—he said, "In there," pointing to one of Lyons' restaurants in Wood Street—Stewart brought him out and Braeger repeated his statement in front of Serafino—the three were taken to the station and charged—they all three made statements there in the presence of each other—they were made in very good English—I did not write them down, but they were written down, read over to them and signed by them. [Braeger's statement, read]: "I reside at 144, Vallance Road, Bethnal Green, and am employed at J. & R. Morley's factory, Golden Lane. About four months ago a man who worked at the Italian shop in Silver Street asked me I could get him some umbrellas. I got him some. He then

introduced me to Serafino Gillia, who asked me if I could get him some umbrellas. I said, 'Yes,' and got him some about a month ago. I believe it was a dozen and he paid me 6s. for them. From this time till last Saturday I have got in all about twenty dozen at different times, and I should think I have received about £6 from him. On Saturday, February 18th, Julius Sender came to the warehouse; I saw him outside and he said Serafino Gillia had sent him to me and asked me if I could get him some. I got him two dozen, and he gave me 5s. This morning I saw Serafino Gillia in Golden Lane and he asked me to go round to Bridge-water Square with him because he did not want to see Sender, who was waiting close by, he having had a row with him because the umbrellas he got on Saturday he kept for himself. I said to Gillia, 'We will go and see him, Sender,' which we did. They both asked me to get them one dozen each, which I agreed to do. I then went into the warehouse for that purpose, and was caught bringing them (the umbrellas) out, the two and a half dozen." [Gillia's statement read]: "I am an electrical engineer and reside at 2, Mornington Crescent, Euston Road. About a month ago a man I know by the name of 'Loo,' and who then resided at 26, Lambeth Road, offered me an umbrella for sale at 4s., which I bought the next day. I sold it for 5s. The following day I saw Loo and a man named Harry in Compton Street, Soho Square. Loo said to me,' My friend and me have got a dozen of umbrellas each and want 3s. each for them' I agreed to buy them and paid each man 36s. They said, 'We get some every day; can you do with them?' I said Yes. Harry said, 'I know a firm that will sell them cheaper to you.' He afterwards introduced me to Arthur Braeger, who said he would get me some, the same as he did Loo and Harry. I should think I have had in all about twenty dozen, but have never paid Braeger more than 6s. a dozen for them and 6s. a dozen each to Loo and Harry. Monday, the 13th, was the last time I had any. [Sender's statement, read]: "I am a hairdresser out of employment and reside at Mellman Street, Gray's Inn Road. About four weeks ago I met Gillia and told him I was out of work. He said, 'I can find you a job; see me to-night,' which I did, when he showed me an umbrella and asked me if I could pawn some and he would give me 5s. a day for my trouble. This I agreed to. I should think I had pawned six or seven dozen in various parts of London, giving Gillia the money and the tickets. On Saturday, the 11th, was the last time I pawned for Gillia. On Saturday, the 18th, I saw Loo and Braeger in Gresham Street. Braeger said to me, 'Where is Serafino? I said, 'He has sent me for a dozen.' He (Braeger) then went into the warehouse and brought four boxes. He gave me three of them and Loo one, and said to me, 'Never mind the money; Serafino will pay on Monday.' My three boxes contained thirteen umbrellas. One box I gave to Loo"—the Loo who is referred to is the prisoner Rigozzi Harry is Manzi and Gillia is Serafino—when searched, Sender had on him 13s. 6d. in money and forty pawntickets, thirty-seven of which related to umbrellas pledged singly in different parts of London in different names—I have recovered a large number of them, which have been identified by Messrs. Morley as their property.

Cross-examined. I went to arrest Braeger—directly I arrested him he said, "It was Serafino or whom I was doing the work"—we then came across Sender—I know Sender has been in regular employment as a hair-dresser—"Loo" and "Harry" are Italians and I should not be surprised at Sender's saying that a conversation between those two was carried on in Italian—some of the umbrellas pawned were of a cheap sort.

Re-examined. They were worth 4s. each.

FRANK TURNER . I am an asistant to Messrs. Harvey & Thompson, pawnbrokers, of the New Cut—I produce a lady's umbrella, which was pledged for 3s. with us on February 6th in the name of "Burnt," by a man—this is the ticket relating to it.

ROBERT LYON (Re-examined). That ticket was found on Sender.

FREDERICK GOODWIN . I am an assistant to Messrs. Morley, of Wood Street, City—Braeger was a sort of runner and had been with us for About two years—he had access to the umbrella department—on February 20th I saw him take away two and a half dozen umbrellas—they were worth £8 16s.—he had no right to take them—we have missed altogether nearly twenty dozen umbrellas valued about £50—this umbrella is worth About 4s., and was pledged for 3s.

Cross-examined. That is a fair value on the pledge.

Sender's statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent all the time; I only did business for Serafino Gillia. When the detectives asked me if I knew the boy I said I did not, because Serafino never introduced me to him, and I was never mixed up with him. Serafino told me he had bought a job lot of somebody who had gone bankrupt, and he (Serafino) lived far away from that place and he must go and fetch the stuff by himself. He told me to wait many times outside the post office. One week before, I had been waiting for Serafino between eleven and twelve in the post office, and the porter did not allow me inside; I did not know about the case that it was stealing, because Serafino spoke to Loo and Harry in Italian and I could not understand it, and two days before I said I would not pawn any more for him and he said next morning, 'You go and fetch a dozen and take someone with you to pawn them, And say to the boy I sent you.' I did not know the correct place and I was just waiting for the boy. Serafino said, 'You see Louis too.' I met Loo there and I went with him; a little further he met the boy. He asked me where was Serafino and I said Serafino sent me, and the boy brought out three boxes. I said I had not so much money and he said, 'Never mind, Serafino will pay me the rest on Monday.' On Sunday morning Serafino came to my place and wanted to murder me and told me to give him the money I got the day before for the stuff. I said I would give him the money if he'd give me my box. I went to Serafino on Monday for the box and he would not give it to me; he went out And I went after him, and I followed him to the City, and he went into the restaurant when the boy was locked up, and the two detectives passed me, and I was looking after the boy and then I was arrested."

Sender, in his defence on oath, said that Gillia offered him the job of selling and pawning the umbrellas, which he accepted as he was out of work and that he thought they were a job lot of umbrellas.

NOT GUILTY .

GILLIA then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on January 7th, 1901, in the name of Gillia Serafino— Nine months hard labour. BRAEGER, MANZI and RIGOZZI— Three months' hard labour each.

NEW COURT.—Thursday and Friday, March 9th, and 10th. 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-256

256. LIONEL GEORGE PEYTON HOLMES (52) , Forging and uttering a cheque for £819 with intent to defraud.

(See page 586.)

MR. HORACE AVORY , K.C., and MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. OVEREND

Defended.

RICHARD HILLS . I am a clerk in the Banknote Department of the Bank of England—I produce eight £50 notes, and nineteen £20's, which, with the exception of a £20 note which has not come to the bank yet, are all that I have had notice to produce—among the £50 notes there are two with Nos. 58,307 and 58308, dated January 12th, 1903—they reached the bank on September 26th from the head office of the London and Westminster Bank, and on them is endorsed "Exch.," apparently short for "Exchange." and some initials.

MARY ELLWNA TOOVEY . I am in the service of Mr. Marshall Fox and have charge of his office, 28, Victoria Street, Westminster—he is a director of several companies—I also have charge of his cheque-book and all his paid cheques—the cheque-book is ordinarily kept either in the safe in the office or on his person, or in charge of his valet at the hotel—this is the cheque-book (Produced) which was in use on September 22nd—on July 30th, about 12 p.m., Mr. Fox went to the London Joint Stock Bank and got this book; he was away for perhaps ten minutes—he came back and drew with his own hand four, five, or six cheques, putting the cheque-book in his waistcoat pocket—he then left the office, saying that he would not be back for three weeks, and that I might take my holidays—I did not see him again until August 23rd—during the whole of that time this cheque-book was either on his person or in charge of his valet; it was never in the office from July 30th to August 2.3rd—I next saw it on August 27th, when I wanted to draw a cheque, and then I found it in the safe; I did not put it there—I fill the cheques in and my employer signs them—I have one key to the safe and Mr. Fox has the second, which is sometimes left in charge of his valet when it is not in his pocket: there are only two keys—after August 27th the cheque-book was sometimes in the safe and sometimes with Mr. Fox at the Hyde Park Hotel, where he was staying—I think I saw it on two or three occasions between August 27th and September 22nd—about 12.30 p.m. on September 22nd Mr. Fox sent his valet up to the office to me with the hotel bill, asking me to fill up a cheque, and return it by the valet for him to sign—in order to do that I had to go to the safe for the cheque-book, and it was there on that date—

I filled out the cheque, gave it to the valet, and immediately there and then in his presence put back the cheque-book in the office safe, locked the safe, saw the valet out of the office, locked the office, and went over to the telephone to speak to Mr. Fox about some letters—I found he had just left for golf; the valet had told me that he would be there till 12.30 p.m.—I was absent from the office about ten minutes—I walked back, put back the letters in the office, and then went out to lunch—I was absent from about 1 p.m. to 2 p.m.—there were no other clerks employed, so I left the office empty—I shut the outer door, and the key is kept down at a little arrangement in the front door, hung with hundreds of other keys—nobody has a right to touch them, and nobody would hardly know which key it was, amongst the hundreds there—coming back at 2 p.m., I did not go out again that day—about 4.30 p.m. a clerk came from the bank and told me something, and a subsequent clerk came and showed me this cheque, which purports to be signed by Mr. Marshall Fox (Produced)—I am well acquainted with his signature, and I was certain when I saw it that it was not his, and I said so—in the presence of some other bank clerks and the detective who came up we examined the cheque-book, which I took out of the safe, and whether I discovered it, or one of the clerks, I do not know, but it was found that the counterfoil of this cheque No. B/E 095124 was missing from somewhere about the middle on the unused cheques; it had been torn out without any trace of the counterfoil being left—I had not noticed it before; it was impossible to—we also discovered that there were two other entire cheques and counterfoils, Nos. B/E 095123 and B/E 095127, torn completely out—there was a fragment left of one counterfoil, but nothing to attract attention—I had not noticed those either until then—Mr. Fox left for America last Saturday week, and should have arrived there last Saturday; I have not heard from him since he has been away—he has a business connection over there—he gave evidence at the Police Court—I have known Dr. Bridgwater, of 57 and 59, Oxford Street, for a little more than two years.

Cross-examined. As a rule Mr. Fox sends his valet for the cheque book—nearly always when he travels on the Continent he leaves his cheque-book in charge of the valet in his bag where he carries his letters and pipers: I have not actually seen it, but I know that is his habit—he kept his valet for two months after September 22nd; he let him go on the first day of this year—I do not know if any efforts have been made to find him—the week before Christmas he came up and told me that Mr. Fox had given him the sack, and that was the first I heard of it—I have some lodgers at my house, amongst whom was one who had some connection with America; I cannot say whether he absolutely came from America—he had business on there—his accent was not at all American, although his actions might have been—he might have been taken for one—he was a fairly tall man of medium height, not strikingly tall or short, very thin, more dark than fair, a very nut-brown complexion, not sallow, light eyes, and rather lantern-jawed—he dressed sometimes in an ordinary tweed suit and sometimes in a frock coat with a silk hat, with which he wore an exceptionally high waistcoat, almost up to his

collar; I never saw him with a low waistcoat—he was rather inclined to be consumptive; he was hollow-chested and round shouldered—I saw him at my house on the evening of September 22nd—I did not mention to him about the forgery—September 22nd was Thursday, and I think he left on the Monday following—when he came in June he told me he might have to go to America any week, but for certain the last week in September or the first week in October—he had a bedroom and sitting-room; he never had anybody there—he came in late at night and went out the first thing in the morning—he sometimes took breakfast, but very seldom except on Sundays.

Re-examined. He had not the slightest resemblance to the prisoner, who is broad, and this man was long and narrow.

ROLAND YALLOP . I am a cashier to the London Joint Stock Bank, Victoria Street—this cheque for £819, purporting to be signed by Mr. Marshall Fox, an old customer of ours, who usually kept a current balance of £2,000 or £3,000, or rather more, was presented to me for payment on September 22nd, a few minutes before 4 p.m., closing time—I asked the man how he would have it; he said, "Half in £50's, half in £20's, and the cdd £19 in gold"—at that time of the day the notes had been taken round to the back of the office to be got ready for the manager—I went there, and, finding that I had not got quite sufficient £20's, I gave him two £10's—I gave him £400 in £50 notes and £380 in £20 notes and £20 in £10 notes and £19 gold—the two £50 notes, Nos. 58307 and 58308, that have been produced were two of those that I gave him—it was past 4 p.m. at this time, and I saw the porter open the door to let him out—about eight minutes after, either the manager showed the cheque to me or I showed it to the manager, but, at all events, we looked at it together carefully with some of the other clerks, and two of them thought the signature was very doubtful—in consequence, communication was made, to Mr. Marshall Fox's office in Victoria Street, and we had some information from Miss Toovey, in consequence of which we immediately communicated with the police—this was within twenty minutes after the man had left—two others at the bank besides myself gave a description to the police of the man who had cashed the cheque—on January 6th I went to Westminster police station for the purpose of identifying this man, when I saw in the yard thirteen men, amongst whom I saw the prisoner—I feel quite confident that he is the man who cashed the cheque—I said that there were two men there whom I was rather undecided about, and they told me to touch them—I went to the prisoner first, and touched him, and then to the other man, but it struck me that I was doing wrong by touching the second man; he was of a bigger build than the prisoner and rather of a rougher appearance—I concluded that the man I had touched first was the correct one, and I say now that he is the man—I thought the second man might be the man, but immediately afterwards I changed my mind—the man who cashed the cheque stood at the counter and appeared to count the notes.

Cross-examined. He did not stand at first in front of the frosted window at the back of my desk; towards the end, when I was taking down

the notes, of course I could not see him at all—I should say he was in the bank about eight or nine minutes, four minutes of which he was under my observation—during that time there was nothing in his demeanour so unusual as to be calculated to attract my attention to him—he appeared to count the notes—we have a large number of persons coming in during the course of the day, the majority of whom are well dressed, and there was nothing in the prisoner's appearance to attract attention—I gave a verbal description of him to Inspector Fuller at Scotland Yard; this is it: "A big man dressed in a black frock coat with silk facings and a tall silk hat, showing what seemed to be a white waistcoat or shirt front, big build, tall and stout"—I said "stout" and I corrected myself and said "rather stout" afterwards; he appeared stout at the counter—I said he was about six feet tall—I did say that the prisoner having the bottom of his coat buttoned up, it was difficult to tell the colour of his waistcoat; I should say the lower button was done up—I expect I did say that there was very little waist coat to be seen—I did not assist the inspector to get out a notice for the "Police Gazette"—I do not think I have given any other description to the police; he took it down in his pocket book—Mr. Sisman was with me when I gave the description, but not Barrett—I do not remember whether Fuller read out the description to us—there was no other description either written or printed that I know of as to this man's appearance—I know there was a description given to the "Police Gazette"—I had not given information for a description to be printed in the "Police Gazette" that I know of—some photographs were shown to me a few days after September 22nd and some after that date—certainly no photographs were shown to me shortly before January 6th—I never saw any photograph that was said to have been taken from the prisoner's house—the messenger tried to trace, on two or three occasions, the cabman who drove the prisoner to the bank to see if he could see him in the vicinity—there has been no attempt to find him by advertisement or other means to my knowledge.

Re-examined. No photograph of the prisoner was ever shown to me before January 6th—two other clerks and myself together gave a verbal description to the officer, and he took down a joint description of the three—the frosted window at the back of my desk is a little higher than the customer's head; it is really a screen.

ALBERT JOSEPH SISMAN . I am a clerk in the employment of the London Joint Stock Bank at the Victoria Street Branch—I was in the bank on September 22nd when this cheque was presented—it is my duty, just before closing time, to take over the balance of the notes from the cashier—I was waiting near Mr. Yallop to take the numbers of the notes and the amounts from the books—there were two customers in the bank at the time—the man who cashed this cheque was in my sight about a minute to a minute and a half—I was doing nothing, simply waiting—I did not see the man leave the bank—I got the balance of the notes and went away with them—it was not necessary for me to see the cheque at all—about ten minutes after the man had left, my attention was called to the cheque—I am acquainted with Mr. Marshall Fox's signature—I did not

examine the signature on this cheque, because it would not be my duty to do so—between five or ten minutes after the man had left the bank I was sent by the manager to Miss Toovey—another clerk went after I came back—I would not have an opportunity of forming any opinion as to whether the signature was a genuine one—I went to make enquiries of Miss Toovey before I had had a good look at the cheque—I gave a description to the police of the man who had cashed the cheque on September 22nd—I went to Scotland Yard, gave the best description I could of the man, and returned to the bank for the numbers of the notes, and I think, when I got back again to Scotland Yard Mr. Yallop was there; I did not give my description with him; mine was before his and separate from it—on January 6th I went to the Westminster police station to see if I could pick out the man, of whom I had given a description—I should think there were about fifteen men in a line, and I picked out the prisoner from them—I believe him to be the man who presented the cheque; I am quite satisfied that he is the man.

Cross-examined. I had no conversation with the man who cashed the cheque—my attention was attracted to him simply because I was waiting at the counter to receive the balance of the notes, and, seeing someone there cashing a large cheque, my attention was attracted to him—the other customer was well known to me—the prisoner being a stranger, I noticed him more particularly—he had a tall hat and a frock coat on, which was rather open on account of the button being buttoned at the bottom, and I noticed that he had a large expanse of shirt, much more than ordinary people would have, as though he were wearing a low cut waistcoat—I gave to Fuller much about this description: "Dressed in a tall hat and frock coat; of fairly gentlemanly appearance; inclined to be dark, with a fairly broad face; and rather inclined to be sallow complexioned"—I was asked by Fuller whether I thought the prisoner was a tall man, and I said, "Yes, fairly tall," and, I think, after that I was asked about the height, and I said again I considered him to be slightly taller than I am myself—I am a little more than 5 feet 7 1/2 inches—I said before that I was 5 feet 7 1/2 inches—if I were describing a man 6 feet tall, I should say he was a good deal taller than myself—before the description was printed I never saw or heard of any proof of what was to be published in the "Police Gazette"—the same evening, or perhaps the next day after I gave my description at Scotland Yard, I was shown one or two photographs by the police, and was asked whether I recognised one of them as being the man who came into the bank, but I could not—I was not shown any photographs a few days before, or some little time before I identified the prisoner—I am not aware of any endeavours having been made to trace the cabman who brought the prisoner to the bank; there may have been—the fifteen men from whom I picked out the prisoner were fairly well dressed: perhaps one or two not quite so well as the rest of them—there may have been one or two not so well dressed as the prisoner, who was wearing a tall hat—there were others there with tall hats—when I walked into the yard I had a general glance at the men who were standing there, and I noticed particularly the prisoner amongst

them—to make certain that I was not making a mistake I walked up and down the line perhaps twice, and immediately after that I touched the prisoner, being certain that he was the man—the principal reason for my identifying him was, to my mind, that his features and general appearance resembled those of the man who came into the bank—the man who passed the cheque had a dark, rather thick moustache, turned out side ways, and rather straighter than the prisoner's is at the present moment; it had been curled up or combed a little more—it had more of a French appearance—I do not think it was more of an American appearance.

Re-examined. I do not think I know the American appearance of a moustache; to my mind Americans are either clean shaven, or wear a beard—as far as I know I am 5 feet 7 1/2 inches in my boots; I might be a little more—very likely I am—I have seen the prisoner more than once since I identified him, and I see nothing about him that is inconsistent with my description of him, only that his face appears to be a little more drawn than it was at the time, but, as far as I can see, I do not see very much difference—I should still describe him as slightly taller than myself, but it is very difficult to judge the height of a man standing by a counter.

GROEGE BARRETT . I am a messenger at the London Joint Stock Bank, Victoria Street, and it is part of my business to attend to the door—just before 4 p.m., closing time, on September 22nd, I recollect a man coming into the bank and cashing a cheque, which I now know to be for £819—I was standing at the door ready to close it—he came in a hansom cab—I saw him standing at the counter, and the notes and gold being handed to him—he pretended to count the notes; he appeared to be looking through them—I then opened the door and let him out—I noticed whilst in the bank and before the money was given to him he turned very white; I thought he was ill—before going away he turned colour; a flush came over his face—he drove away in the hansom which was waiting for him, towards the House of Commons, City wards—about three to five minutes afterwards my attention was called to the fact that there was something wrong with the cheque, and I recalled to mind the man who had presented it—within a short time I gave a description of his features to the police—on January 6th I went to the Westminster police station yard, where I saw a row of twelve to sixteen men—I was acting quite independently of Mr. Sisman and Mr. Yallop; they were not with me, and I knew nothing of the man they had picked out—I looked down the line and I came to the prisoner—I pointed him out, and they said, 'Touch him," and I touched him—I recognised the prisoner as the man who had been in the bank on September 22nd—I say now that he is the man.

Cross-examined. It was not my duty to look in any particular direction when the bank door was open—another customer was in the bank at the same time as the prisoner, who came in two or three minutes after; I let him in—I was waiting to let them out, so I could not help looking at them—Mr. Sisman and Mr. Yallop had an opportunity of seeing the prisoner's appearance—after the cheque was known to be forged we three did not have a conversation; I saw the manager and Mr. Sisman talking

about the cheque, and, of course, I went and heard what they said—after they had the conversation they asked me whether I had observed the man, and I told Mr. Yallop and Mr. Sisman that he drove up in a hansom to the bank, that I had noticed he was very white, that I thought he had come over a bit queer, and that he looked whiter than usual—I had never seen the prisoner before—the reason I said "whiter than usual" was that when he came in he was white, and while standing at the counter, waiting for the money, he turned whiter still—I also told them that he seemed rather timid and that quite a flush came over his face after he got the notes—when he went away there was nothing to attract my attention to the cab; the prisoner looked at me through the glass, and then at himself in the mirror—a few days after I looked all along the Embankment and everywhere I could where I thought there would be a lot of cabmen, and endeavoured to trace the cabman who drove him—I had noticed his appearance sufficiently to be able to identify him—I gave a description of him to the police—nothing has been heard of him that I am aware of—I was standing about three yards from the prisoner when he was cashing the cheque, the distance from the door to the cashier's desk being six yards—I was three yards from him when the door was closed—I went from there more to the centre of the bank—I think I only described his features to the police—I noticed that he had a frock coat on with silk facings, buttoned up at the bottom button, which description I gave to the police—I made a mistake when I said I only described his features—I cannot say if he had a white waistcoat on; he had on a white shirt—his waistcoat was rather an open one, showing a good deal of shirt—what I noticed about his features was his high cheek bones; as to his mouth, I only went by his moustache—I did not say on a previous occasion that he had a peculiar mouth; I think there must have been some mistake about that; I do not consider he had a peculiar mouth, nor did I identify him by it—his moustache was pulled down; it was not waxed, nor straight; it was dark, rather heavy and turning grey—I said on a previous occasion, "I cannot say whether he really counted the notes. He went through them the same as anybody would do. I think he was rather hurried"—I should think about two days after, I was shown several photographs by the police, and five or six days afterwards I was shown some more—I am quite sure I was not shown any shortly before the day I identified the prisoner.

GEORGE FREDERICK HURD SMITH . I am a clerk, employed by Messrs. Cook and Sons, tourist agents—they are now registered at Somerset House as regular bankers—in September last I was at their office at Ludgate Circus—about 4.30 p.m. on September 22nd a man cashed these two £50 notes (Produced), on the backs of which I had marked the number of my cash; there is no doubt about their identity—I fix the time because I had just finished balancing my cash at the time—he asked for gold only, but as I had not sufficient French gold to spare I gave him 1,000 francs in gold and the rest in French notes of 100 francs each—I should say the gold consisted of 20-franc pieces and 10-franc pieces, and I should say some of them would have the Gaelic cock upon them—it is quite a recent coin-age, of two or three years ago—he seemed rather in a hurry, and he took

up the 1,000 francs in gold, and ran out, leaving the notes behind him—I called him back and so did Mr. Bode—he came back smiling, took up the notes, and rushed out again—this is a 20-franc piece with the Gaelic cock on (Produced)—in January I was engaged for Messrs. Cook In the South of France—I was not in this country when the prisoner was arrested—I was brought back in February and then I went back again—on a day in February in the cells at this Court I was shown about seven or eight men, and I was asked whether I could pick out the man who had changed the £50 notes—I walked down the line of men and there were two men whom I could not decide on, of whom the prisoner was one—I turned to the detective and said there were two men of whom I was not sure which one had been to the office—he said, "Look again"—I thought over the matter and for some reason, I do not know why, I chose the man who was not the prisoner—one of the detectives then said, "There were two men that you said you had picked out"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Show us the other man," and I picked out the prisoner—I think I touched him—I have more reason to believe that the prisoner is the man who came into the office than the other man—the morning after the man came into the office I was told a notice had come in, and when I was at the Strand office Inspector Fuller came up to see me on the matter some days afterwards—my mind was called back to the changing of the £50 notes.

Cross-examined. This 20-franc French piece (Produced) is a coin minted in the present year; I did not produce it—the French coinage is very mixed—this is only produced as a sample to show the cock—there are many thousands of 20-franc pieces changed at our establishment every year—I did not say before, that this coin had been in circulation seven years; I said two or three years—I was never shown any photographs by the police before identifying the prisoner—on a previous occasion possibly I said that there were six or seven men from whom I identified the prisoner—amongst them I found two men of the same height and with the same moustache—if the detective had not said, "Show us the other man" it is possible that I would have gone away after having identified a man not the prisoner—I would not swear that when I touched the first man I did not say, "This is the man"—I said on a previous occasion, "Probably I did say that."

HAROLD BODE . I am a clerk employed by Messrs. Cook & Sons, of Ludgate Circus—I was at their office there on September 22nd, about 4.30 p.m., when two £50 notes were changed into French money—I was two desks away from my colleague who actually handled the transaction, but I overheard most of what took place—just as the man was moving away from the desk I happened to go along to him and I saw some notes and money lying on the counter and I called the man back—as he was leaving the counter I saw his back—on my calling him back he simply turned round very quickly, grabbed up the money, and rushed out of the place—I only caught what I might say was a glimpse of him—he was leaving about £50 worth of the money lying on the counter—I cannot be certain whether it was paper or gold—I saw him leave the premises—

the next morning was the first time my attention was called to the fact that there was something wrong—about 9.30 a.m. the police gave us the official numbers of the notes as having been stolen—I then endeavoured to recollect what had taken place on the previous day—in January I went to Westminster police station yard, where I saw ten men in a line—I was asked if I could pick out anyone, and after some slight hesitation I picked out the prisoner—I say now that to the best of my belief he is the man who attended at the office.

Cross-examined. There was nothing unusual in a man changing £100 for French money—I did not see the prisoner's face while he was at the counter; I only caught a glimpse of him as he turned round to pick up the money he had left—as a matter of fact I saw more of his back than his face—I went to identify the prisoner by his face, but more by his bearing, because I had more impression of his general bearing, that is to say, his walk, than I had of his figure and face—the prisoner was standing still when I identified him, and so far as his walk was concerned that would not assist me in identifying him—it is true that I said, "I could not pick him out by his dress, as he was dressed in a different attire"—I expected, of course, to pick out a man in a frock coat and silk hat, and he was dressed in a different attire; that is what made me hesitate—it is true I said, "I picked him out by his general bearing as I had an idea of that"; his face was a secondary consideration—it was not absolutely present to my mind—the man who changed the money had a dark moustache—I cannot say whether I had ever said he had a dark moustache before—it is correct that I said before, "Before identifying the man I had an idea he was a man of fairly moderate height; I only caught a glimpse of his face"—I do not know that I said, "I cannot say whether he had a black moustache"—I was under the impression that his moustache was dark, but that he had one there is no doubt—I cannot say off-hand whether I said anything about the colour before—I was somewhat aided in my identification of the prisoner by the fact that he resembles somebody that I know—I noticed the resemblance on he following morning, when I tried to recollect the facts—I did say at the Police Court, "I only gave a rough description of the man two or three days ago"—I said that he was a man of forty-five to fifty years of age, with a silk hat and frock coat; a wide expanse of waistcoat, one of these low-cut waistcoats, and I think I said, "A short sharp walk with what is called a fairly upright appearance"—I think I was asked something about the height of the man because I said he was a man of medium height—my definition of medium height would be about 5 feet 10 1/2 inches, and my definition of a tall man would be 6 feet.

JOHN KANE (Inspector D.) At 11 a.m. on January 6th I saw the prisoner in High Street, Chiswick—I was watching him near his own house—he was quite close to it and coming from it, and was just going into a shop when I said, "Mr. Holmes"—he turned round and I said "You are Mr. Holmes?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, indicating Inspector Fuller, "This gentleman is Inspector Fuller, of the A Division, and I am

Inspector Kane of the D Division, and I am going to arrest you for forging and uttering a cheque for £819 about 4 o'clock on the afternoon of September 22nd last, at a bank in Victoria Street"—he made no answer, and I addressed him again, saying, "Do you understand the charge I have just told you?"—he said, "Yes, I understand, but I know nothing about it"—he did not express any surprise or indignation—on the way to the railway station I said to him, "I am perfectly well aware that you did not write the cheque. I know who did," to which he said, "I shall deny the charge."

Cross-examined. I did not have any conversation with him—I did not caution him that anything he said would be taken down and used against him—I first heard of the forgery on September 22nd—I did not see any officials of the bank until January 6th—accompanied by Inspector Fuller, on the evening of the day of the prisoner's arrest I went to his house and looked for clothing—I found a frock coat—I saw a lady there—I do not think I asked her for a white waistcoat belonging to her husband—I asked her if she had seen a white waistcoat about the place—she said she had lever seen one—I did not take any description of the prisoner from any person before the prisoner was arrested—I saw a description on the afternoon of September 22nd, as soon as possible after the offence was committed, when it was telegraphed round in the usual way—the description of the prisoner in the "Police Gazette" of September 30th, 1904, is an exact reproduction of the description given to me by telegraph on September 22nd—the description was: "A man aged 45 to 50, height ft feet; complexion, sallow; hair and moustache, dark; wearing a black frock coat with white vest and silk hat"—when I was at the prisoner's house I am quite sure I did not ask the lady there whether she had any photographs, neither did Fuller—I personally have not endeavoured to trace the cabman who drove the prisoner to the bank, but I know, officially, that every possible effort has been made to trace him, such as printed bills being posted at the cabstands, but without success.

Re-examined. Inspector Fuller would be able to say from where that description of the prisoner, which was telegraphed round, was obtained.

ROBERT FULLER (Inspector D.) On September 22nd I received information of the forgery about 4.30. p.m.—I got a description of the man who had passed the cheque at the same time—Sisman was the first man who called upon me with regard to it—after that I got a description from Barrett and Yallop—thereupon I circulated what we call police information, giving the description—"6 feet" is the description given in the print, but it should be "about 6 feet"—neither Yallop, Barrett, nor Sisman described him as being 6 feet tall—one of them said he believed the man was wearing a white vest—I was with Inspector Kane when the prisoner was arrested—he said, "I understand, but I know nothing about it"; nothing beyond that—after the question of height had been discussed at the Police Court I measured the prisoner's height when he was in custody—I found that he measured 5 feet 9 1/8 inches in his shoes—I say that is not his height, but it was his height when I measured him—I have three heights in the official registers; one is the official height taken by the

police at the time of his arrest and before any question of height arose; he was then on the official papers as A feet 11 inches—my measurement of 5 feet 9 1/8 inches was not wrong, but the height at which he stood was wrong—I know from my experience that a man can alter his height by an inch and a half if he allows his head to sink into the trunk—if a man's normal height were 5 feet 10 inches he could make himself 5 feet 9 inches, 5 feet 9 1/2 inches or a trifle over 5 feet 10 inches, by stretching or sinking himself—the prisoner's proper height is 5 feet 9 1/2 inches without shoes—I was present when he was identified in each case—on January 6th, at Westminster police station yard, the inspector, in the prisoner's presence, said to me, "You see this prisoner has been identified by these three men." pointing to Sisman, Barrett, and Yallop—I said to the prisoner, "These three men are from the bank"—I then showed him the cheque and he said, "I am quite satisfied with the identification"—I took him to mean he was satisfied with the fairness of the way in which the identification had been conducted.

Cross-examined. Sisman's description, which was a verbal one, and which I took down in writing (Note-book produced) is, "About forty-five to fifty; about 6 feet, full face; pale; frock coat, silk hat, white waist-coat—the description in the "Police Gazette" is, "Aged forty-five to fifty; height, 6 feet; complexion, sallow; hair and moustache, dark; wearing a black coat, white vest, silk hat"—I know that there is another description published; I do not know that they altered it; it is not different from the one in the "Police Gazette"—it is, "A man aged forty-five to fifty; height, about 6 feet; complexion, sallow; moustache, dark; appearance of an American; dressed in black frock coat and silk hat"—the previous one has not "the appearance of an American"—it was correct when I said on a former occasion, "The description of the prisoner in the "Police Gazette," which is a combination of about five descriptions, was given to me"—they were all given to me the same day—I got some more witnesses to corroborate what one had told me—from September 22nd to about ten days before January 6th I was looking for a man of about 6 feet, and with the appearance of an American—before I arrested the prisoner I am positive I had never obtained any photographs from his house—I never saw the prisoner, nor knew where he was living until the day of his arrest—I might have asked Mrs. Holmes after his arrest whether she had any photographs—very likely I did—I have no recollection of it, but I should have endeavoured to find one—one of us asked whether there was a white waistcoat and she said, "I have never seen him wear one," or, "He has never had one"—after his arrest I searched him and found a few papers, a copy of his birth certificate, and a few pence—I did not make any enquiries, but I have not any doubt that he might have been employed at the Brewers' Exhibition at the Agricultural Hall in October—I do not know if I said on a previous occasion, when being examined as to my finding him 5 feet 9 1/8 inches in his boots, "I found no objection to the way he stood up on the second occasion"—I could not have found any objection; he stood erect—I did not take any exception to the way he stood—I noticed when I was measuring him that his chin came down

on his chest, but I did not say anything—I only smiled—this was after the hearing at the Police Court.

Re-examined. I believe the description, "the appearance of an American" came from Yallop, but I understood it also from the others—there is nothing very distinctive about an American; very often an American is rather more sallow than an Englishman—"A man about 6 feet, who looked like an American" means a perfect description of the prisoner—I had some information ten days before arresting the prisoner that led me to look for him.

MARY ANN LILBUN . My brother keeps a beerhouse called the Steam Hammer at 50, Thomas Street, Lincoln, and I live opposite and am frequently in his house—I know the prisoner quite well—I remember his coming to Lincoln on Monday, September 26th—he is no relation to me—he had been to the Steam Hammer many times before—I knew he was coming on this occasion on the Saturday before—foe stayed till Saturday, October 8th, as a lodger in my brother's beerhouse—whenever he came to Lincoln he always stayed here—he is a native of Lincolnshire—while he was there I saw a French coin like this (20-franc piece produced) with the Gaelic cock on one side, and the head on the other, in his possession—he left it with my brother's wife because he had not sufficient money to pay for his lodging.

Cross-examined. I cannot say it was his third visit within two years; I think it was his second—we noticed he was rather short of money—he appeared to have none whatever—I know that he has been employed at the Brewers' Exhibition for years—I have not seen him there, but we have had letters from him in reference to his being there—I know he supplied brewers' fittings to my brother's place—I know other places besides that which he supplied.

(MR. AVORY said that he had secured the attendance of the valet, but did not propose to call him, but that MR. OVEREND could put any question he wished to him.)

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that in September he was in the employ of Dr. Bridgwater as a dispenser and had been at that time employed a month or six weeks; that on September 22nd he arrived there at 10 a.m., going to lunch between 1 and 2 p.m. and coming back about 2.45 p.m.; that the doctor and patient were almost waiting for him; that he assisted at an operation for chronic tonsilitis at a little after 3 p.m., to check the hemorrhage, the patient finally leave between 4.15 p.m. and 4.30 p.m.; that he did not leave the premises till 8.30 to 9 p.m., his usual time; that he did not go to the London Joint Stock Bank in Victoria Street, nor to Cook's in Ludgate Circus; that he remembered it, as it was the only operation for tonsilitis that had taken place at that period; that in his opinion there was a great deal of hemorrhage; that he left the employment, as Dr. Bridgwater had told him that there was not enough work for him to do, on Saturday. September 24th; that he wrote to Mrs. Lilbun on the Friday, saying that he would try to come down to Lincoln, having made up his mind to go in the early part of the week, he having had high words with the doctor; that it was not a coincidence that the doctor should dispense with him on

the same day that he told Mrs. Lilbun he would try and be down; that he received £2 10s. from the doctor, some of which being in lieu of notice; that he went to Lincoln on the Monday, stopping at an old friend's beerhouse; that being short of money on his departure, he left a napoleon which he had bough in a public-house as a pendant, which he had since redeemed; that on his return he attended the Brewers' Exhibition in October, lasting a week that; the first thing he heard of the forgery was when he was arrested, when he told both the inspectors that he was either at Lincoln or at Dr. Bridgwater's at the time; that he might have said on a previous occasion that it was a week or a fortnight after September 22nd that he left Dr. Bridgwater, but since then his memory had been refreshed; that he had known a man named Shackell for eight years, and got him a job at Dr. Bridgwater's, but he did not know then that he was a convicted forger; that he did not see him at all between 1900 and 1904, and could not remember seeing him on September 23rd or 24th, or since; and that he (the prisoner) could not have left the dispennsary without passing through the consulting room.

Evidence for the Defence.

TALBOT BRIDGWATER . I am a medical specialist, of 59, Oxford Street, where I have a lease of the premises—I have been in practice seven years—I have known the prisoner eight or nine years, during portions of which time I have employed him as dispenser—in August and September I employed him—his hours for attending at 59, Oxford Street, were from 10.0 or 10.30 a.m. till 8 or 9 p.m., and he always took an hour for dinner, his usual time being from 2 to 3 p.m.—he gave me whatever assistance was necessary at my operations—I recollect September 22nd—I have very good reason to recollect that date, as I had an operation for tonsiliti on that day—I have my case book here, in which I record my patients and their diseases—on September 22nd I find recorded an operation for chronic tonsilitis on a patient named Oswald—I made a note of the appointment, as I do with most, and I find recorded here (Pocket diary produced) that my appointment with him was at 4 p.m.—it may have been a few minutes to 4 p.m. when he arrived—I can say of my own knowledge that the prisoner was either in my consulting room, or the dispensary, on the patient's arrival—the operation proper of removing the tonsils would take a very few minutes, but the time necessary to rinse the mouth and swab the tonsils would take about half an hour—it was necessary to use styptics after the operation, and I had the prisoner's assistance in that—the dispensary is part and parcel of the consulting room, partitioned off, and it would be impossible to get out of the dispensary without passing through the consulting room—after the operation the prisoner went into the waiting room because it was his duty to do so—he could pop in and out from the waiting room into the consulting room—he did not leave the premises until some time between 8 and 9 p.m.—he returned from dinner at 3 p.m.—his salary was not fixed; it was according to the work he had to do—my business was slack at that time, and has been for some time—I thought I might be able to dispense with him at the end of September, as I thought I was paying him a little too much—he left me

either on September 24th, the Saturday, or the Monday after—I understood that he was at the Agricultural Hall after he left me—I have practiced in England with an American degree, and prior to coming to England I had an extensive practice in Australia and other colonies.

Cross-examined. Mr. Oswald had been three or four times previously—I should say he came altogether six times, and they are all recorded in my case book—on September 10th, 15th, 22nd, 29th, and October 6th—I say now that he called five time—the reason why the words "remove tonsils" do not apply to any other date is because on September 22nd I note by a cross that the patient paid me £3 for the operation—it took half an hour from beginning to end—there is nothing in this case book to indicate how long it lasted—if the prisoner said that the operation commenced a little after 3 he would certainly be wrong—it was 4 p.m. before I saw him—he would be wrong in saying that we were almost waiting for him for this operation—there was nothing unusual about the operation—of course a certain amount of haemorrhage is inseparable from an operation; there was not an unusual amount and I should certainly not call it excessive—I cannot say what the prisoner has seen in the way of haemorrhage in his life—very probably I said on a previous occasion, "There was no excessive bleeding or anything of that kind"—I cannot tell you what Mr. Oswald is; I do not ask my patients their occupation—I do not know where he is now, and I have certainly not made any effort to find him—if you look through all my cases, it is very rarely that you will find the address of the patient; owing to the nature of the cases many patients do not care to give their names and addresses—I may have told the prisoner a few days before September 24th that I should not want his services any longer; I have not a distinct recollection of it—as near as I can recollect, I paid him £4 in cash when he left, being about £2 10s. wages, and £1 or so in lieu of notice—I should sometimes pay him daily, and sometimes once in three or four days, according to how the practice was—I sometimes paid him 10s. daily—when he came to me in August he was doing nothing—I may have said at the last trial, "He left me, I think, in the early part of October; I believe it was the first week in October," but now I find that he left me the last week in September; there is only a few days difference—I was under the impression that it was October at the time—I then thought he was in my service some weeks after September 22nd, because I was aware that he was at the Brewers' Exhibition after that—I have a record of his being in my employ at the end of September, but I have nothing to fix the particular day of his leaving—I cannot say that I saw him again after he left me on the 24th, until he was in custody—I should say I did not see him—I had no communication with him whatsoever—the first communication I had with him after his arrest was when I went to the Westminster Police Court—I saw his arrest in the paper and I was satisfied that he was in my employ at the time and I went down to prove it, but I was not called—I communicated with the police, and I said it was a brutal, monstrous and iniquitous proceeding on the part of the police—I should say I had ten or twelve bill men in my employ on September 22nd—I do not think one

of them has been prosecuted and convicted of distributing indecent literature—probably two or three have been convicted for obstruction, but I should not agree with you that it was for distributing indecent literature, since Sir Albert de Rutzen held that there was nothing indecent in the bills, and dismissed the charge—Mr. Denman has convicted one of my employees for obstruction, but not for distributing obscene literature—a man mimed William Foster may have been convicted and fined at Marlborough Street for distributing matter of an indecent nature on November 18th, 1902, but it is impossible for me to go back three years—I may have paid the fine—I paid fines for some of the men because I considered it was my duty so to do—I cannot tell you whether some more men were fined on November 20th; it is such a matter of indifference to me—this has nothing to do with the mode of conducting my business; I maintain that there is nothing whatsoever that is indecent in the literature I distribute—among the men in my employ there was a man named Shackell, whom I know to be a convicted forger—I have known him as a casual acquaintance for eight or nine years; he came to ask for some work; he did not want any introduction; my bill men do not have introductions; they come and ask me if there is any work—very possibly the prisoner asked me to find the man a job—I did not know that he was a convicted forger at the time I put him on, but within a few days the police took very great care to let me know—he was one of the men who superintended the distributing of my pamphlets—I did not know anything of his whereabouts; I never saw him probably more than two or three times during the nine years—he was clerk to a man named Keen, who drew up my lease of my new Oxford Street premises some years ago—after knowing that he was a convicted forger and when he was in my service I gave a reference to enable, him to obtain some furniture on hire—I certainly did not represent him to be a man worth £40 or £50—he wanted to get a little home together and could not afford to pay cash for his furniture—I heard on Wednesday this week that he has been convicted of stealing the furniture—I swear that I was not at Marlborough Street Police Court when he was tried and convicted—the nearest place that I was to the Court was at my consulting room—I did not know of his having been prosecuted till the day after—as far as the number of my men who were convicted goes, it is a matter of indifference to me—in one or two cases the men preferred to go to prison for seven days, and when they came out I paid them the fines—I did not have a conversation at the Police Court with the solicitor who defended him; I do not even know him and I have never spoken to him in my life.—Miss Toovey has been a patient of mine for some three years—I swear that the acquaintanceship between us was nothing more than that of medical man and patient—I am certainly not aware that she said she anticipated I would marry her—I cannot be responsible for what she has said—I heard at the last trial that she said that I talked about going to Australia, and asked her to accompany me—that was the first time I was aware of it—I spoke about going to Australia, but I swear I did not suggest her returning with me—I certainly did not know that she was studying dispensing in order to

accompany me—I understood she was studying chemistry, dressmaking and cooking—I suppose she was desirous of further accomplishments—outside my consulting room I only saw her on one occasion, when I met her near Victoria station, and we went into Odone's restaurant to have some coffee—it is a common occurrence for me to meet a patient in the street, and I ask them, male or female, to have a glass of wine or some other refreshment with me—there is no harm in that—this happened about two years ago—I heard the last time, that Mr. Marshall Fox saw us in Odone's restaurant, but I should not have known him if I had seen him—I am a specialist in nerve, skin and blood disorders—if you produce any indecent literature published by me, I shall bow to you—very likely Miss Toovey has described me as her sweetheart—I expect a good many ladies have—some ladies are very fond of having sweethearts—the first time I heard of Mr. Marshall Fox was perhaps a week after September 22nd, when Miss Toovey called on me and said there had been some robbery at her place—I was under the impression at the last trial that the first occasion I learnt of the forgery was when I read it in the papers, but on my memory being refreshed I know that it was on that occasion when Miss Toovey called upon me—she wanted sympathy and somebody to confide in—I like to make my patients my friends—many patients ask their doctor's advice on matters besides medical matters—I cannot swear it was not in September—it is a matter of indifference to me—I do not think she mentioned her employer's name—I swear I did not ask her who he was, and I swear that I never knew who her employer was, or where she was employed—she told me that her employer's name had been forged, and she seemed very much upset—of course I sympathised with her—she said a cheque had been stolen on the Continent, or something, and that she had had an American lodger with her answering to the description of the man who was wanted—I said, "Do not you know anything about the lodger? Where is he?"—and she said, "I do not know. He has gone away"—she said the cheque was for £800—I will swear that she told me this lodger was tall and dark, and she thought he answered to the description of the man wanted—I suppose I said at the last trial, "She never told me anything about the description of the American lodger; only the description of the man who had got this money"—it was utterly impossible at the time to remember—I think your shorthand writer has made a mistake about that; at Any rate, it is only a quibble—I had a patient named Wigram, whom Mr. Muir was pleased to designate as "Billy Wigram," some years ago—I knew James Duncan Robertson as an old friend—he is the son of one of our wealthiest and most respected squatters in Victoria—his father left him £100,000—I know Wigram and Robertson were committed for stealing money from a stockbroker's clerk on the way to the bank—because some of my patients and friends fall into trouble it does not reflect upon me—a man named Joseph Hayces is in my employ at the present time as a dispenser—I know he went to Glasgow with money for the purpose of defending Wigram and Robertson—he was for twenty years the bosom companion of Robertson in Australia—he

kept a chemist's shop and they were brother Masons—Walter Macdonald was also a patient of mine—he was never, to my knowledge, sentenced to three years, imprisonment at Adelaide for forgery in 1890—I know there is a central criminal court at Adelaide—I left Australia in 1894—Walter Macdonald is at present under my treatment—I saw him only yesterday—the Walter Macdonald I know is a sergeant who fought in the Boer War and was presented to Her Majesty the Queen at Windsor—this photograph is somewhat like the man, but it is a very blurred picture—I know Charles Taplin, who is a lawyer's clerk—I am not aware that he was sentenced to twelve months' hard labour at this Court for conspiracy to defraud Somerset House by means of forged stamps—I have only seen him two or three times—on one occasion he brought a letter up to my rooms from a solicitor, Mr. Benham—I know a man named James Adieasan L.R.C.P. at Edinburgh—he was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude for abortion—I have known Flackman some five years—he is an hotel manager—his wife was a patient of mine some years ago—I believe he has had the misfortune of being convicted for keeping a brothel.

Re-examined. I first made Flackman's acquaintance by lunching at the Tudor Hotel Buffet—I have attended numbers of the staff there—I met Miss Toovey quite accidentally in the street—the money for the defence of Robertson and Wigram was subscribed by men at Tattersall's and sporting men—I did not subscribe a shilling—a furniture dealer called upon me and asked me if I had a man in my employ named Shackell—I said, "Yes," and he said, "Will he be all right for a few pounds' worth of furniture on the hire system?"—I gave no guarantee—my bill states that I have twenty-five years, honourable record and practical experience and that I have had many thousands of patients; that I am not a common apothecary, but have a title and right to practice, which was indorsed by Mr. Justice Grantham and Mr. Justice Collins in the Queen's Bench Division on May 19th, 1896—as the police find fit to slander me and launch all sorts of calumnies on me for coming to speak the truth, I will produce my pass books for the last twenty years if desired.

ARTHUR FREDERICK COLLISON FLACKMAB . I am an hotel manager, but at present I am representing a Brighton firm in London—I was the manager of the Tudor Hotel, Oxford Street, when it was opened on may 1st, 1899—I left the Alexandria Hotel to open that hotel—I got to know Dr. Bridgwater, as he used to lunch at the Tudor Hotel Buffet very frequently—on different occasions he has attended the staff when we have not had time to call in the hotel doctor, and on one special occasion he attended my wife—I was on sufficient terms of intimacy with him to visit him, and I did so frequently during the last two or three years—before September, 1904, I was assistant manager at the Hotel Metropole, South-end, which went into liquidation, and the liquidator dispensed with my services on September 17th—I remained in Southend with my wife and children, hoping to get taken on to the staff again, until the following Thursday, and, failing to do that, I came up to London on September 22nd by the 9 a.m. special train—I called on several people connected

with the wine and spirit trade and people like that in the City, to know if they knew of any appointments—at 2.30 p.m. I lunched with the manager of the Clifton Hotel in Welbeck Street, whom I invariably visit when I am in Town—I remained there about an hour—I then went to call on Dr. Bridge-water to see if he knew of a place vacant, as he goes about a good deal in hotels—I arrived there about 3.45 p.m.—I should allow myself half an hour, as I was catching the 5.15 p.m. train to Southend—on arriving there the prisoner came down and asked me what I wanted, and I was shown into the waiting room, where I was kept waiting for about half an hour—I simply said I wanted to see Dr. Bridgwater—the prisoner knew my name and took it in—while waiting the prisoner came in at intervals several times and I also spoke to him—I had met him two or three times when I went to see the doctor, which I did whenever I came up to Town—I left there between 4.25 and 4.30 p.m. in order to get down to the Bank by the tube, and walk to Fenchurch Street to catch the 5.15 p.m. train—I had to wait about five or ten minutes for the train—I did not know anything about the proceedings at the Police Court—the first thing I heard of it was in the "Daily Telegraph" on a Friday after the case was tried—in consequence of seeing Dr. Bridgwater's name I went to see Dr. Bridgwater, and gave my evidence—I know it was absolutely impossible for this man to be at the bank at Victoria Street at 3.55 p.m. or 4 p.m., or at Cook's in Ludgate Hill at 4.30 p.m.

Cross-examined. I saw Dr. Bridgwater before I left, but only for a very few minutes, because I was in a hurry to get away—I promised to call on him on Saturday, September 24th—I only had time to talk to him at the door and ask him if he heard of anything to let me know—I saw him next on September 24th—I used to see him every time I was in Town, sometimes twice a week—I did the buying in Town—it was uncertain what day I came up to Town—remember September 22nd because it was a most anxious time for me—I was most anxious to get an appointment—I know this was not on the Wednesday or Friday—I could not have afforded to wait after Thursday—I have no note or memorandum of my visit on September 22nd—when I saw the announcement in the paper I went straight to see Dr. Bridgwater—neither he nor the prisoner asked me to remember that I had been there on the 22nd—I should not have gone had I not remembered—Dr. Bridgwater said, "Well, you had better go and see my solicitor"—when I went to him on September 24th it was about 3.45 p.m.—I did not see the prisoner there then—the next week after that I stayed down at Southend and the week after that I saw Dr. Bridgwater again—I know Shackell by sight—I do not know when he left—I have known Dr. Bridgwater nearly six years, and apart from as a professional man a little over five years—I opened the Tudor Hotel Buffet on January 1st, 1000, a year after opening the hotel—I knew the prisoner about a month, or possibly longer, by going to the doctor's—I did not know him well until recently—I knew Frank Tarbce, alias Frank Taylor, whom I know as Frank Terry—he was staying in the hotel, and the guests are the associates of the manager if the manager is any good, but I did not know anything about him until I was informed by Inspector

Kane that he was convicted in 1895 and sentenced to three years' penal servitude; I knew him only as an ordinary guest in the hotel—I was managing the Norfolk Mansions Hotel in Wigmere Street at the time—I did not give him notice, because his account was worth about £20 a week, and if he had gone to another hotel I should have been called to serious account by the management—those were the circumstances I told the inspector when I said, "The circumstances were such that I could not shake him off"—I was sent to prison for four months without the option of a fine for permitting dancing and music without a license at a West End club—the proprietor of that club whom you (Mr. Avory) defended got off with a £20 fine, whereas previously he was fined £100, and if you had defended me as you defended him I should have got off—since then I have held three good appointments.

Re-examined. I should run up against several men of notorious characters in London hotels—Tarboe was staying with his wife.

JOSEPH BRICUSSE . I was valet to Mr. Marshall Fox—I left him on December 30th—on August 1st, I think, Mr. Fox went to Paris with his motor car and I followed him with his luggage—it was Bank Holiday—I saw the cheque-book at the hotel when he went away, and he gave it to me while we were in Paris—I take charge of it when we are on the Continent—in Paris I noticed that some cheques were missing from it, and I called Mr. Fox's chauffeur's attention to it—I did not tell my master—I was just opening the book; I was packing it with the luggage.

Cross-examined. We went from Paris to Dinard, and it was the day before we left Paris that I noticed the cheques were missing—Mr. Fox said, "Take all my letters and lock them in your bag," and he gave me the cheque-book—he went in his motor car from Paris to Dinard; he left in the afternoon, and I in the evening by train, and got into Dinard the next morning—we stopped a week at Dinard—it was ten days before we returned to London that I discovered the cheques were missing—we were away for about three weeks—the counterfoils were in when I noticed the missing cheques—I am sure of that because I should not have seen the cheques had been torn off if I had not seen the counterfoils—I was talking to the chauffeur and packing up some letters, and I wanted to make it into as small a parcel as I could—I was just doing this (Letting the cheques run with his fingers), and it seemed to go so quick when I got near the end that I turned back again and found some missing I should say somewhere past the middle of the unused cheques—it was a bit too long to pack it, so I folded it up and put them in a brown paper parcel—I know now that the counterfoils have been taken out because the detective came and showed me the book, and I could not see the place—I cannot see the place now—the three cheques were not missing altogether; there was one between—I did not mention it, because I often see Mr. Fox with cheques in his pocket; in his letter case where he carries his cards he has sometimes notes, or cheques, and I always take it out if there is anything in it; I did not take any notice of the cheques—I do not know whether I had the cheque-book in my possession when we got back to London; Mr. Fox might have brought it to the hotel—I did not have it in my possession after we returned to London—when we left Dinard it was in my bag, and I brought

it to London—it was in a brown paper parcel—I gave it to Mr. Fox when I was in the four-wheeler at Victoria; I took it out—I do not know whether the counterfoils were in then; I did not look—I did not tell Mr. Fox of the missing cheques, because I often see him carry cheques in his pocket, and it is no use for me to say, "You have got some cheques in your pocket"—I suppose when a man takes a cheque out of his book for the purpose of using it he takes it in order—I ought to have told him that the cheques were missing from the end of the book—I did not think anything of it at the time because I said to the chauffeur, "I suppose he has it in his pocket"—I did not tell him—he told me six weeks before I left that I could look out for another place and I said, "Very well"—the reason was that one morning I got there ten minutes late—the day I was leaving I said, "I should like to know why you have discharged me"—"Well," he says, "I am going to travel, and you are married; I am going to America soon"—I was not going to say something about a cheque, and then stop myself—I said to him, "I suppose there is something to do with this cheque; that is why I am leaving"—I do not remember what he said in reply; this is 2 months ago, and my memory is getting worse.

JOHN KANE (Re-examined). The prisoner did not say when we arrested him that he was either in Lincoln or at Dr. Bridgwater's; that is just what we wanted to know—the first time I learnt that he had been to Lincoln was about two days before the last trial—I informed the other officer.

ROBERT FULLER (Re-examined). Nothing was said by the prisoner when arrested as to his having been in Lincoln—the first day we learnt of it was on February 6th.

The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged, and the case was postponed to next Sessions.

OLD COURT.—Saturday, March 11th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-257

257. ARTHUR-LEWIS, EDWARD HARRY PIKE, THOMAS FOREST , and ALBERT EDWARD BOYCE , Conspiring together and with other persons unknown to cheat and defraud divers persons who might be induced to pay money for the insertion of their names in divers directories. LEWIS PLEADED GUILTY ; PIKE PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining 2s. from Francis Powell, 5s. from Roland Stanley Barlow, and 4s. from Frederick James Pushman; and FOREST to attempting to obtain 2s. 6d. from Charles Augustus Bino and 2s. from Harriet Annie Watkins.(See next case.)

Reference Number: t19050306-258

258. THOMAS FOREST (20), and ALBERT EDWARD BOYCE (30) , Conspiring with other persons to obtain divers sums of money from the subjects of the King who might be induced to pay money for the insertion of their names and addresses in divers directories, and obtaining 6s. from Arthur Overton by false pretences and with intent to defraud.

MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted, MR. WILDEY WRIGHT Defended Boyce.

JOSEPH WILLIAM NEVILL . I am a printer, of 442, Hoe Street. "Walthamstow—in July last I received instructions from Boyce to print some

forms relating to "Clark's Commercial Trade Directory"—I knew him in the name of Boyce—this receipt, Ex. 11, is in counterfoil, "'Clark's Commercial Trade Directory.' Received from—. Received £—Date—, Canvasser for Stanley Clark, publisher and proprietor, Birkbeck Buildings, Chancery Lane"—the other part of the counterfoil is an order form with name, address and date—Ex. 12 is a receipt form filled up in the name of Watkins for 2s.—it is one I printed—Ex. 14 is a similar one in the name of Neal, January 2nd, 1905, for 2s. 6d., and Ex. 45 is one filled up in the name of Burndorf—I printed 500 of these receipt forms with counterfoil, and 1,000 slips in which to insert material to go into the directory—I charged him 10s., which he paid—on August 17th I saw him again, when he gave me another order for the "International Business Directory"—I printed some of these slips for him—some of these produced have been filled up in the names of Neal, Trinity Road, Battersea; Staples, of Wandsworth; Ashton, Wandsworth Road; Wilcox, and Watkins—I also, on his instructions, printed receipt forms and order forms as in the case of Clark's Directory—this is a bundle of receipt and order forms for the "International Business Directory," published by G. Straker & Co., Broad Street House, London—they are in blank—Ex. 13 is a receipt form for 2s., belonging to that series and filled up in the name of Staples—Ex. 43 is a receipt for 6s. received from A. Windas on January 8th, 1905—Ex. 48 is a receipt for £3 from the Burndorf Metal Works—I printed 1,000 slips and 500 receipt forms—on September 17th I saw him again—he gave me an order and I printed 500 receipt forms for the "London and County Commercial Directory," published by G. Blackwood & Co., of Broad Street Buildings—this is a receipt (Produced) from Mr. P. Windas, for 6s.—the next transaction was "Bradshaw's Business Guide," Wine Office Court, Fleet Street—he gave me an order on November 4th for 500 receipt forms and 1,000 slips—this form (Produced) has been receipted by G. A. Windas, Westferry Road, January 8th, 1905—I have all these slips and receipt forms at home now with the exception of a few he came for and asked my boy for when I was out—I did not see him after November until he was in custody—I did not know his address, but I knew just about where his house was—he was a neighbour—there is 25s. owing from the "London County Directory"—I do not know anything about these directories—when he brought me an order I said, "Don't they do their own printing?"—he said, "Yes"—I said. "Don't they do their own slips?"—he said, "Yes, but they are full up rubbing up their directories and we only want a few to tide us over a few days"—he said he was a canvasser.

Cress-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I have known Boyce I should think since about last May—I knew the whole time that he lived a very short distance from my works—he was known by a few people who I knew—originally he brought me business—I asked him to get me orders and said that if he would, I would pay him a commission—he said he was in the City every day and no doubt could cut me work—he introduced a tall young man to me; I do not know if his name was Alexander; that was for a genuine directory—I do not know if Boyce's brother is a partner in Kemp's Directory—I know he has a brother who was employed there—have heard of that directory, but I do not know much about it—all the

orders got for me were paid for—I did not know until yesterday that Boyce went down to Brighton to canvass for Kemp's Directory—he told me once or twice that he was anxious to get employment—he did not ask me to introduce him to a situation.

Re-examined. The other work I did was not for Kemp's Directory—Boyce did not tell me why he assumed the name of Lawrence when he went to Brighton.

RICHARD BOLDEN . I am manager to Messrs. Williams and Strawn, printers, of 74, New Cut, Lambeth—we printed this slip and receipt form relating to the "International Trade Directory of London and Provinces": Manufacturers, merchants, shippers, professional and London sections. For the 'Times' Printing and Publishing Company, Lower Thames Street"—according to my books we printed 100 of one form and 200 of the other on September 28th, 1904—the order was given by Lewis—when they were finished Forest called, paid for them, and took them away.

FRANCIS LAMB . I am the wife of Robert Lamb, of Gloucester House College, Muswell Hill—I recognise Pike; he called at my house, I believe, on October 21st, 1904—he said he had called for £1 in reference to Lloyd's Directory, for which I had given the order twelve months before—he showed me a slip of paper which he called an order form; apparently my signature was upon it—I told him I had no remembrance of it, but, seeing my signature, I believed it to be all right—I paid him £2 because he said that the arrangements at the office were altered, and for the future it was to be paid in advance—I believe I got this receipt next day from Lewis, who called—he said he had called from the "Times" Publishing Company for money due for an insertion in a directory for that year—I do not believe I had given any order for it—he showed me an order form very much the same as the one before and apparently signed by me—I believe it was in my own writing—there was other writing on the form which was not mine—I strongly objected to it and said I could not remember anything about it, and that if I had given an order for the directory it was not for that amount of money, and the figures must have been altered, for I had not promised that amount of money for any advertisements—he would not go away, and in the end I paid him altogether £5—he gave me this receipt, purporting to be on behalf of the "Times" Publishing Company, Lower Thames Street—when I told him I did not think there was a directory published by that company he said it was quite a new one and a thought of Mr. Arthur Waters—next Monday, October 24th, Forest called and said he had called in reference to Langford's Directory and that the person who had called before had made some mistake—I believe he wanted me to pay something like £2 10s.—I did not pay him anything—I told him I believed it was a fraud and I would not believe him to be an honest man until I heard from the firm.

JOHN DAVIDSON, SEN . I am an ex-detective of the City police, now of 837, Salisbury House, London Wall—in November I received instructions and made various enquiries, and as a result on November 9th I went to Fenchurch Street station about 10 a.m.—I saw Boyce, Forest, Pike, and Lewis in conversation inside the station—they crossed to a public-house

called the Railway Approach—they remained standing in the door of a compartment for about twenty minutes, when they returned to the station—they remained in conversation—Boyce took from his overcoat pocket a large envelope, opened it and took out some papers which appeared to be the size of a cheque book or printed form with counterfoil, but I could not see one—it may have been a cheque-book—Boyce then handed some of the papers to the others, retaining some himself—my impression is that the papers were longer than this one (Produced)—they remained in conversation a short time longer and then left the station—Lewis and Pike walked together and Forest and Boyce by themselves—I followed them along Fenchurch Street and Lombard Street as far as Mansion House railway station, where I left them—next day I went to Fenchurch Street station about 10 a.m. and saw Forest, Boyce, Pike and Lewis arrive there from different directions—it seemed to be a meeting place—they remained in conversation, when all four went to the Railway Approach and stood in conversation at the bar—Pike had in his hand some printed forms which were being looked at by Boyce and Lewis, and Forest was standing on the outside of the three, apparently on the look-out—I was in a private bar; they were in the public one—my son John was with me and had been with me the day before; he is twenty-one years old—on the second day I gave him some directions—on January 11th I was at Fenchurch Street station about the same time; Pike and Lewis came again—I kept them under observation, as before, with John Davidson—they remained in conversation, then went to the public-house, and remained at the door in conversation—they were under observation for about forty-five minutes—I did not see any of them again, except Forest, until they were in custody—I also gave directions to my younger son James, who is sixteen—on those three days Lewis had a heavy moustache and no beard—when I saw him in custody on February 4th he was growing a beard—when I saw Pike on those days he had a slight fair moustache—when I saw him in custody on February 6th he was clean shaven—when I saw Boyce he had only a heavy moustache-since he has been in custody he has grown a beard—he looked different—Forest was arrested on January 13th.

Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I was instructed in this matter on behalf of the "Times"—I know that Boyce has a brother who is a partner in Kemp's Directory, about which I have made some inquiries—I do not think it would be imprudent for Boyce to canvass for other directories in his own name if his brother was known to be a partner in Kemp's Directory.

JOHN DAVIDSON, JUN I am a son of the last witness and assist him—I was with him on January 9th, 10th, 11th, at Fenchurch Street station and saw the four prisoners—on January 10th I received instructions from my father, in consequence of which I followed Forest to Windas's At 221, Westferry Road, Millwall—we went by tram—when we got there he walked about for a time and then went into Windas's, who is an engineer—he stayed there about five minutes and then walked to a public-house in the neighbourhood, where I lost sight of him—on January Kith I was with my brother James in Great St. Helen's, on our way to Fenchurch

Street station, about 10 a.m.—I saw Boyce walking with another man and pointed him out to my brother—on January 18th I went to Fenchurch Street station with my brother and saw Boyce—when he went away my brother followed him—later that day I went to the Royal Exchange and saw Boyce with Lewis—my brother was keeping observation and I left him to continue it.

JAMES DAVIDSON . On January 16th Boyce was pointed out to me in Great St. Helen's by my brother—I followed him to different places—he was joined by Lewis—amongst other places, they went to Cannon Street Post Office—I went in and bought a stamp—they were filling in long forms printed on the top—there was a word beginning with "B" and "Business Guide"—it was a form like this (Produced)—I could not read the first word, but I saw it began with a "B"—both the prisoners were writing—I saw them use two or three forms—I saw them come out—they walked together for about fifteen minutes and then separated—I cannot say if they made any purchases at the Post Office—when they separated I followed Boyce to Fenchurch Street—he took the train to Millwall Junction in company with a hunchback—I also took the train—I was in another carriage—he went to Windas's at 221, Westferry Road—the hunchback waited outside—Boyce was inside about five or ten minutes and then joined the hunchback and they went away—I followed Boyce to where he appeared to be living—on January 18th I went to Fenchurch Street station—I saw Boyce and followed him to different places—he was with Lewis—both went to Mill-wall—when they got to Westferry Road, Boyce waited outside Windas's and Lewis entered—he stayed inside about fifteen minutes—when he came out I was on the other side of the road—I crossed over and walked by them, and heard Lewis say, "He said, 'Who sent you?'"—at that time Boyce had got his moustache—Lewis's chin was shaved—that was the occasion when I followed him to where he lived, at 61, Goodall Road, Leyton.

Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I was in Cannon Street Post Office about five minutes—Boyce, with his companion, was at one of the boxes and there was a partition between mine and theirs—I could not see through it, so I went to theirs and looked over between them to see if there was a pen there—I was only there a minute—they did not move aside to let me look for the pen—I had not been told that this matter referred to Bradshaw's Guide—I had heard that it was in reference to some directories, but no names were mentioned—I first saw a similar form to this at the Mansion House—it was there that I came to the conclusion that it was one of the papers that I had seen at Cannon Street Post Office.

JOHN STANBLES . I am a cowkeeper and dairyman, of 593, Wandsworth Road—on January 11th Lewis called upon me and said he wanted a subscription for the renewal of the insertion in the "International Business Directory"—I paid him 2s.—this is the receipt, dated January 11th—I put on the order form, "Please cancel"—he put his initials on it (This document was found on Forest).

HARRIET WATKINS . I am a schoolmistress at 56, East Hill, Wands-worth—on January 9th Lewis called upon me and said he was canvassing

for "Clark's Commercial Trade Directory"—I gave him an order and 2s.—this is the receipt (This document was found on Forest)—I saw Forest on the 12th—he brought the order form which I had given Lewis and said I owed 2s. for insertion—I said, "I have paid it once; I shall not pay it again."

GEORGE ARCHIBALD WINDAS . I am an engineer, of 221, Westferry Road, Millwall—on January 10th I was standing at my office door when Forest came up and said, "I have called in reference to a directory"—he had a document in his hand bearing our office stamp—I referred him to my clerk, who was just behind.

ARTHUR OVERTON . I am clerk to Mr. Windas—on January 10th I remember a man coining to the office while Mr. Windas was at the door—I cannot identify him—he required payments for the insertion of an advertisement in "Clark's Commercial Trade Directory"—I paid him 6s. and he gave me this receipt, dated December 10th, which I altered to January 10th—at the time I believed there was such a directory—Ex. 33 is a receipt dated January, 1905, the day of the month not being mentioned, for 6s. in respect to "Bradshaw's Business Guide"—I remember a man who I cannot identify coming on January 18th—I paid him 6s. in respect to the "London County Commercial Directory," published by Blackwood and he gave me this receipt—I then thought it was a genuine directory.

JAMES BROWN (Detective-Sergeant, City). I was instructed to make inquiries in this case in respect to certain alleged directories—I have inquired about "Bradshaw's Business Guide," alleged to be published by Bradshaw and Company, Wine Office Court, Fleet Street—I failed to find a business like that or a guide of that name—Bradshaw's "Railway Guide" has its business in Fleet Street, but they do not publish a directory like this—I have made inquiries at the British Museum, Guildhall, and Stationer's Hall—in respect to all the directories mentioned my searches were similar, and there are no such directories.

FRANK HALLAM (Detective-Sergeant, City). On January 12th I received a warrant for Forest's arrest—I arrested him on the 13th—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest for attempting to obtain 2s. 6d. by false pretences by means of a bogus directory—he said, "I know nothing about a directory; I am a tailor"—I searched him at the station and found upon him Exs. 3,4,5 and 6, relating to the order forms given by Mr. Stables, and also the order form of Mrs. Watkins and Mr. Neil in connection with the "International Trade Directory"—I also found upon him receipt forms and order forms relating to the "International Business Directory"; also a bundle of receipt forms and order forms in connection with "Clark's Commercial Directory"—on February 3rd I went with other officers to Shepherd's Bush and saw Lewis—I had a warrant for his arrest and I arrested him—on February 6th I arrested Pike—I could not find Boyce for some time—I was looking for him—I went to his address at Leyton, but could not find him there—the warrant was issued for his arrest on February 3rd, and on February 23rd I received information and went to Brighton, and about 10 p.m. I saw Boyce in a public-house in

Church Street—I said to him, "I am a police officer; I believe your name is Boyce"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I have a warrant for your arrest for conspiring with men named James Forest, Arthur Lewis and a man named Harry Pike for obtaining money by means of bogus directories"—he said, "All right"—I conveyed him to the Town Hall, Brighton, and searched him and found on him an envelope bearing the name of Lawrence—he then told me he had been residing at 43, Windsor Street, with a lady named Figg, in the name of Lawrence—he did not give me any explanation why he was residing at Brighton in the name of Lawrence—he was clean shaven—there was no name mentioned in the warrant, and when I found Boyce he did not answer to the description—I had previously seen him with his moustache on—in the train coming from Brighton next day he said, "I have been ill and out of work, and although I know Lewis, Pike, and Forest, I have seen very little of them "

Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I knew Boyce—I have seen him before with Lewis when his face was in a different condition with regard to hair.

Forest's Defence.

"My Lord, I pleaded guilty to two charges and not guilty to conspiracy. Whatever I done I done by myself, neither have I had any transactions with either of the prisoners."

Boyce received a good character.

GUILTY . (See next case.)

Reference Number: t19050306-259

259. ARTHUR LEWIS was again indicted with stealing a cash box, a key, and £2 1s. 5d., the property of the Dowsing Radient Heat Company.

MR. ARTHUR GILL , for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction for obtaining money by false pretences at Clerkenwell Sessions on January 1st, 1901. A previous conviction was proved against Pike, and the police stated that he and Lewis had been engaged in this kind of fraud for five or six years. LEWIS and PIKE— Twelve months' hard labour each. BOYCE— Eight months' hard labour. FOREST— Five months' hard labour.

THIRD COURT.—Saturday, March 11th, 1905.

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.

Reference Number: t19050306-260

260. WALTER GIBBS (35) and JOHN DONOVAN (22) , Stealing thirty-seven rings and a tray, the property of Samuel Morris Samuel.

MR. ST. JOHN MORROW Prosecuted; MR. L. COHEN Defended.

BERNARD HENRY GOLBERG . I am manager to Mr. Samuel Morris Samuel, of Houndsditch—on January 30th, about 5.40 p.m., Donovan entered our shop and asked to see a 22-carat wedding ring from 20s. to 25s.—I took a tray out of the window containing thirty-seven 22-carat wedding rings and showed them to him—he selected one, tried it on his

ringer, and remarked that it was too large—he replaced it and while looking down the tray for a smaller size, he snatched the tray out of my hand and ran out of the shop—he ran down a side turning—I ran after him and at the corner, was stopped by a man who pretended to be drunk and who tried to trip me up—I fell, and as I got up I received a blow on my head from a stick which partially dazed me—when I got into Aldgate I lost sight of Donovan—on coming back I found eleven of the rings had been recovered which he had dropped out of the tray—I informed the police at once—I went later on to the police station by request of the police—at the Guildhall, in one of the cells, I picked Donovan out of about fifteen or sixteen other men—I had no hesitation—I am quite certain he is the man—my shop at the time of his visit was well lighted by electricity; he was in the shop about three minutes and I had quite a full view of him.

Cross-examined. We do not deal in cheap jewellery—any stranger coming into our shop will be shown a valuable jewel—we do not make any discrimination between different persons—if a person comes in shabbily dressed we are a bit careful to be on our guard, but Donovan came in dressed very neatly and I did not suspect him—I think he was dressed in a dark brown suit—when one is running in the street it is not unusual to jostle someone else—it is a surmise on my part that the man who knocked up against me was lying in wait for me—if he were here he might say I jostled him—I think I mentioned about the blow on the head before the Magistrate—if it is not on the depositions, I suppose I did not—it seems very remarkable not to have done so—I gave a verbal description of the prisoner to the inspector at the station—he took it down—as far as I remember it was of a man about as tall as myself, rather stout, full red-faced, wearing a dark suit at the time, a double collar, a hard bowler hat and, I believe, a heliotrope tie—I went to the Guildhall expecting to find someone answering that description—I was anxious to find the culprit—as soon as I went in I recognised Donovan—the police did not come to me suggesting they had got the man—they simply said they had arrested four men on a different charge, and would I go and see whether my man was amongst them.

Re-examined. I did not identify Donovan by his tie or coat, but by his face, and I had no hesitation—I am quite confident he is the man who entered the shop and stole the rings.

CHARLES SMITH . I am a 'bus conductor and live at 115, St. Dunstan's Road, E.—on January 30th, about 5.40, I was outside the Three Nuns, Aldgate, with my omnibus—we were going east—four men hailed the 'bus and boarded it just outside Aldgate station—they went on top—three of them sat on seats while the fourth sat on the knees of one of the others—when we got to Commercial Street they got down in a hurried fashion—I had not then collected their fares—I said to one of them what about his fare, whether he was going to pay it—he said, "I am very sorry, I thought you went down this way," pointing to Commercial Street—I concluded that they had made a mistake and let them go as they had only ridden about 100 yards—the first man, I think in my own mind now,

although I could not swear to him at the Guildhall Court, is Donovan—Gibbs was with them, sitting on the back seat—I have no hesitation in saying he is the man—I have sworn to him—when the bus got to the yard I found this jewel tray—it was under the front seat on the off-side, the one in front of that which Donovan had occupied—on February 21st I went to the Guildhall and was shown a group of fifteen or sixteen men—I there picked out Gibbs—I had no hesitation in doing so.

Cross-examined. My bus goes from West Kensington to Burdett Road—from Commercial Street to Burdett Road it is about two miles—about fourteen people, I should say, might have got outside on this occasion—the journey occupies eighteen minutes—for all I know, the tray might have been taken up on that part of the journey—the whole journey of the bus is more than eight miles and we should at that time of day probably carry from 100 to 120 passengers—I cannot say that I have ever before been called upon to identify any one of my passengers three weeks after they had been on the bus—even omnibus conductors make mistakes.

WILLIAM LAWRENCE (Detective-Constable, City). On February 21st the prisoners were identified; Donovan by Mr. Goldberg without any hesitation—he went straight up to him—Gibbs was identified by Smith, without any hesitation—the description I received from Mr. Goldberg of Donovan was that he was wearing a dark-brown suit—the prisoners were arrested on another charge—I told them they would be charged with stealing thirty-seven rings from Mf. Samuel's premises—Donovan said, "What is that, how much is that?"—I said, "Thirty-seven rings"—that is all he said—Gibbs made no reply.

Gibbs, in his defence on oath, said that he was a clothes dealer and that on January 30th, between 5 and 6 p.m., he was at home and did not go out before the next morning.

Evidence for Gibbs.

WILLIAM GIBBS . I am a hawker—Gibbs is my son and lives at home with me—he has always had a good character and has never been charged before—on January 30th I was living at 75, Abbey Lane, Stratford—January 30th is fixed in my mind because I gave my landlord a week's notice to move and on the 6th I paid him the last week's rent—I produce my rent book—the last entry in it is February 6th—on January 30th my son came home a little before 2 and did not go out again till 8.30 next morning—he had a meal with me in the house.

Cross-examined. I remember this day because of giving the landlord notice—we did not have the meal I spoke of in Rosher Road on January 30th—that would be wrong if the prisoner said so—my son has no friend named Desmond—he has no friends that come to my house—he generally comes home about 2,30 or 3—he very seldom goes out again unless he goes on an errand.

Re-examined. Since my son has been ill, he is stricter in his habits And has turned against drink—he came out of hospital three weeks after Christmas—it is perfectly clear that on January 30th I was living at Abbey Lane.

JOSEPH GIBBS . I now live in Rosher Road with my father and brother the prisoner—my brother had an illness a fortnight before Christmas—before that he used to go out at 8.30 a.m. and return about 4 p.m.—after his illness he never stopped out later than 3 p.m.—we left the house in Abbey Lane on Monday, February 6th—I remember the Monday before that—my father gave notice to leave then—on January 30th my brother left our house at 8.30 and came back before 2—we asked him to have dinner—he said he had had some out—he had tea with us—I can swear he did not leave the house after he came in on that Monday.

Cross-examined. We had tea about 4 o'clock—it might have been at 3 o'clock—I am a coster—I stop at home on Mondays—the rest of the week, except Fridays and Saturdays, I am home at 2 o'clock—since my brother's illness he does not go out much of an afternoon—I do not know that Donovan is one of his companions—I do not know him—I did not give evidence before the Magistrate, because I was not asked to.

Donovan, in his defence on oath, said that he was a fish porter; that on Monday, January 30th, he never went out of his house till 4 p.m., when he went out with his wife; that they got on a tram and went to a draper's named Wickhams, in the Mile End Road, where they bought something and then went home about 5; that when he got home he found his sister; Annie Donovan, there; that they all had tea, when a Mrs. Smith came in, and that as he was at home at Bow at the time the robbery was committed he could not have been in Houndsditch.

Evindence for Donovan.

ANNIE DONOVAN . I am Donovan's sister and live with him and his wife at 12, Stuart's Cottages, Bow—I help to keep the house—I remember Monday January 30th, because the prisoner and his wife went to Wickhams a draper's—I did not go with them—they asked me to get tea for them—they got back at 5 o'clock, bringing a paper parcel with them, containing flannelette and calico—there was a sale on at Wickhams'—the prisoner said he would like some whelks for his tea, and I went out to fetch them—I was gone ten minutes—when I came back I found the prisoner and his wife there and a Mrs. Smith—I remained in the house the rest of the day—my brother went out about 9.30 or 10—he was practically in my company the whole time—a Mr. Suttee came in later on—they do not go to sales every day and I do not buy whelks every day.

Cross-examined. I identify January 30th, as I was going after a situation on the 31st—I told our solicitor at the Guildhall Police Court that I was at the house when the prisoner got into trouble—I did not give evidence there—I was first spoken to about giving evidence here last Tuesday by a gentleman—I do not know his name—he asked me if I knew anything of the case—he said to me, "Was not January 30th, Monday, the date that you had the whelks and flannelette?" and I said, "Yes."

Re-examined. I went to Mr. Bedford, our solicitor on another matter, with Mrs. Donovan, but I never said anything about this charge—the matter did not arise.

JAMES SUTTEE . I am a carman, of 36, Silver Street, Stepney—on.

January 30th I called on the Donovan's about 6.30 p.m.—I went to see Miss Donovan, with whom I am keeping company—I remember that date because Mrs. Smith produced a pawn ticket saying she had had to pawn something to pay her fare from Leyton to Bow—when I got to the house they had had their teas—I stayed there till just on 12—Donovan was in the house all the time except when he went to see his sister off in a tram about 11.45.

Cross-examined. I have no usual hour for leaving off work—it was not 7 when I got there—the pawn ticket is the only reason for my remembering the date, which is on it—I saw it afterwards when this affair cropped up—Mrs. Smith produced the pawnticket—I swear it is the same pawnticket that was in existence that night—I saw the "30th" on it when Mrs. Smith showed it me—it was in black ink—this ticket (Produced) has the 30th in red ink—I did not see the "30th" on the 30th—it was there when it was produced to me about three weeks after.

Re-examined. The reason I fix the 30th is something Mrs. Smith told me after the 30th—it has been mentioned to me since.

ELIZABETH SMITH . I live at 30a, Goodall Road, Leyton—Donovan is my brother—I do not often go to see him and his wife—the first time I saw him after Christmas was on January 30th—I fix that date because I pledged a bodice of mine and a blouse for 2s.—this is the ticket—I bought some food and firing with part of the money and then went to see my brother at Stratford at 5.30—I noticed the clock—my brother was at home with his wife and my sister, Annie Donovan—they were having tea—after tea my sister's young man came in—my sister showed me some things she had been buying, flannelette and cotton things—I stayed there all the evening—I left about 12.

Cross-examined. There was no mention of the pawnticket at the house—nobody in the room knew I had a pawnticket—I am certain I never told anyone in the room I had pawned anything that day.

Re-examined. It is only since I heard my brother was in trouble that I tried to think about the date, and that is how I found it out—I have mentioned it to Suttee since at my sister's.

GIBBS NOT GUILTY . DONOVAN GUILTY . He then pleaded GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on May 13th, 1902. Four other convictions were proved against him. The police stated that he was one of the most dangerous criminals in East London— Five years' penal servitude.

OLD COURT.—Monday, March 13th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-261

261. JAMES GEORGE BUCKLEY (28), GEORGE LEONARD BYFORD (21) , Stealing a case of Tate's sugar and other goods, the property of W. S. Chapman & Co., their masters, and GEORGE PARKINSON (33) , receiving the same, well knowing them to be stolen. BUCKLEY and BYFORD PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Parkinson.

JAMES GEORGE BUCKLEY (The prisoner). I was employed by Messrs. W. S. Chapman & Co., Limited, for seven and a half years as a warehouseman at 24s. a week—they are wholesale grocers and have a warehouse at 62, Aldersgate Street—I have known Parkinson for about twelve months—I was a customer at his coffee shop at 24, Barbican—I have pleaded guilty to three indictments charging me with stealing the property of my masters—I put the goods, viz., one case of Tata's sugar, three boxes of cocoa, a case of condensed milk, and twelve bottles of "O.K." sauce on the prosecutors' van and the carman Byford delivered them—I gave him instructions as to where they were to be delivered—Daniel Iles, a porter in the employment of the prosecutors, assisted me to load the van—these goods were not paid for—I had no authority to deliver them to the prisoner—I stole them—the case of sugar was like that (Produced)—I cannot identify the actual one—the Epps' cocoa was in boxes like this (Produced)—there were two of them—the milk was Nestle's—there was a case containing six dozen tins, I believe, retailed at 3d. each—the cocoa delivered on February 8th was Cadbury's—there were three 4s. 9d. tins—the Nestles milk was also delivered on the 8th and one dozen of "O.K." sauce—I delivered some goods to Parkinson myself—I took a few things on the first onset about twelve months ago—there were very few things, and not worth speaking about—they were the firm's goods; I got them from the warehouse—as I was the prisoner's customer he got into conversation with me and asked me if I had a long pocket—he meant could 1 fetch him anything round—I did not say anything at the time, but during the conversations he got me into his way and that was the outcome of it—he promised to pay me according to the amount of goods I brought—he decided what he would pay—it is about twelve months ago that he asked me if I had a long pocket—I understood I should steal my master's goods—he did not pay me the full value—for a case of sugar valued at 25s. he paid me 9s. or 10s.; that was about the average—I think I took things round to him about a dozen times—sometimes I took them, sometimes Byford—the case of sugar would have to go in the van—a tin of Nestle's milk you could carry in your pocket—I was paid at the end of the week—I paid By ford half of what I got—other persons were present when Parkinson paid me, but they never see it, because he used to take me a distance from them—I had to call in at the end of the week—I never took him any invoices except when ordered by the firm, when the money was paid to the firm and I gave him an official receipt—the firm supplied him with goods occasionally—there was never any bill or receipt for the money he gave me—he knew my position in the firm, because I used to go in there with a coarse apron on and a cap such as warehousemen have—I never represented myself to him as a traveller for the firm—on one occasion he asked me to fetch him in as much as I could—I told him I was running the risk, and I had a wife and children to look after—he put it off and said, "That will be all right," or something to that

effect—that was two or three weeks before February 10th, when I was arrested—the Epps' cocoa was delivered about a week before February 8th—it was stolen in the same way—I sent him some tea packed in the way this is in packets (Produced)—that is not the usual way it was sent from the warehouse to customers—it would be packed in light coloured bags done up in brown paper—I last sent him tea about five or six weeks before I was arrested—I used to send him bags averaging nine or ten pounds—I sent him some raisins in a brown paper bag (Produced)—I never sent him any in boxes—this box (Produced) was bought from the firm, I think—I sent him a box of sultanas like this (Produced) this side of Christmas—I sent him some tapioca in a sack like this (Produced) just as it came from the wharf—I only sent some on one occasion; that was this side of Christmas, packed in the original sack as it came from the refiner, but only half the quantity—I sent him some peas (Produced) before Christmas—I sent him about four cases of Tate's sugar—I have seen two of them; it is what is called "Number 2 Tale's"—I do not suppose I received more than £6 or £7 altogether; that was between the two of us.

Cross-examined. I have only been a warehouseman during the last twelve months; before that I was a porter—I did not get any increase of wages when I became warehouseman—there were eight or nine others employed then—I began to rob my employers soon after I was put in a position of trust—a warehouseman has not got to make entries in books before he delivers things to carmen—there is a clerk who checks the things; his duty is to see that the things are only handed out as ordered—after he checked them I waited until his back was turned, and then put a case of goods on the van—we should be loading every morning, but only a few goods—I put the stolen things on the van whilst I was loading—the things which I stole twelve months ago were things I could carry—I had to secrete them somewhere until I had finished my work—I began stealing things which had to go in a cart about the end of November—I did not send by more than one van, which was the one Byford drove—he had been in my masters' employ about twelve months, and, as far as I know, was an honest and trustworthy man—I got him to take the stolen things to Parkinson's through conversation—we began to rob our masters two or three months ago—he was lead into the business by me through conversation—I did not know where he had been before—I knew he had a wife and child—we have not done any big bulks except four or five times since we started in November—he did not like this dishonest course of conduct and remonstrated with me—I did not say, "Never mind the risk"—I told him I was running a risk—he thought of his wife and child, and complained to me about it—it is true that Parkinson paid me when other persons were present—his own servants were present and sometimes he asked his cashier for money which he then handed to me—that was not the usual way he obtained the money for me—I remember saying before the Magistrate, "When he paid at the end of the week, he never paid me in the presence of his servants"—that was not a lie but they were not near by to see what he paid me—I did not hear him ask the cashier for the money, I was the length of the shop away—I know his, chef, but not

to speak to—he has not known what Parkinson has paid me—I do not know Miss Jeffreys, a waitress; there were two or three waitresses there dodging about—when I went into the shop with a book it was a receipt book for another customer—I received money for goods ordered from the firm—it was part of my duty to collect money when I delivered goods—I received money from customers by my masters' orders—I delivered various kinds of goods—I did not carry them round, I trucked them—I have been to Parkinson's shop two or three times with a truck during the last twelve months—I have occasionally taken goods there in a van both before and after I was warehouseman—when I went with the van I was not the carman; I was the outside man delivering the goods—I had a delivery sheet—if Parkinson did not happen to be in I should call in the next half-hour for the money—on February 10th the police inspector found me at my masters' place—I was taken to a room where the managing director was, and he and the inspector asked me questions; they told me they believed I had been robbing them, and asked me to say what I had done with the goods—they told me to tell the truth about it; they did not tell me it would be better for me to tell the truth—we took stock twice a year—this was not stock-taking time—I was with the managing director and the inspector for about half an hour—I made a clear breast of it from the first—Byford was not present at the time—I saw him five or six minutes after he was arrested—he was in the next room to me, I believe—we were brought out and taken into custody—I do not know if Byford was then told what I had been saying—neither the inspector nor the managing director spoke to him in my hearing—I and Byford have been together downstairs all last week; we were not in separate cells—I pleaded guilty from the beginning; Byford pleaded not guilty to some of the cases—I know he had taken out things which he said he was not guilty about, but his saying that had nothing to do with me; whatever he stole he received from me—I afterwards told him it was a guilty case, and he ought to plead guilty—I said it would be better he pleaded guilty and I believed that was so, because it is always best to speak the truth—I had no conversation with Mr. Chapman apart from the inspector—when I made that statement at the police station in Parkinson's hearing it was in answer to a question put to me by the inspector—I cannot say how many questions he put—I volunteered that I had taken things round there, etc., myself, and sent things round there myself—after I had made my statement to the inspector Parkinson said, "I always paid full value for the things I received from Chapman's man"—I made my statement behind Parkinson's back—he was then brought forward, and it was reach to him—Byford was not present then, nor when the inspector asked me questions—he was taken to the station with me—I did not see if he was in the room when the statement was read over—I am not quite certain if he was in the room when I was answering the questions—my statement was not read over to him in my presence—the things I took to Parkinson were the things he would want in the ordinary course of his business.

Re-examined. I remember making a statement to Mr. Marshall on February 10th, and telling him I was sorry—I cannot remember what questions were put to me then—I was given into custody after I had made

that first statement—I was at Guildhall when I made my next statement before the Magistrate—the statement that was read out before Parkinson at Moor Lane police station was the one I had made at the prosecutors' firm—I remember the goods being brought to the station—I referred to them, and said they were the ones I had stolen.

GEORGE LEONARD BYFORD (The prisoner). I was a carman in the employment of the prosecutors—I have taken goods to Parkinson's—some of them were paid for in the ordinary way of business, and when that was so I took an invoice with them—I did not get payment for them, I generally had a porter named Iles to do that for me—a receipt was given on an official form by the porter; he would have a receipt book, and when he was paid money he wrote out a receipt and stuck it on the invoice—I got a receipt for the delivery of the goods on a delivery sheet—the goods which were not paid for were put on the van by Buckley for me to deliver—I knew that they were stolen—I began to take stolen goods, I suppose, about two or three months before our arrest—I did not take an invoice or receipt for those goods, or take any signature for the delivery—I delivered them to whoever was in the shop—I took them through, put them down on the counter and walked out—I never had any conversation with Parkinson, and I never had anything to do with receiving money from Parkinson for the stolen goods—Buckley used to give me so much at any time—I took any goods round at the end of the week—he told me I received half—I may have received 4s. 6d. one week, or a little more next week, or the next time none, because no goods were taken round—the most was about 10s.—I took things round four or five times during three months; it may have been six times—I never kept an account—I have learned since that Buckley also took things round, but I did not know it at that time—he did not pay me anything when he took them round—I am concerned in taking round this sack of tapioca, and this sack of castor sugar—I think I can recognise this parcel of raisins and sultanas—I am not concerned with the tea; I am with the condensed milk—I do not recognise those two boxes of cocoa—I took round two cases of Tate's sugar, No, 2—I have learnt since that the "O.K." sauce was in a parcel, but I did not know the contents of it.

Cross-examined. I had been in the firm for about ten months before I began to take out these stolen goods—before I went there I drove a commercial brougham—I got a good character from that employer—I do not know that Buckley induced me to do this; it was through conversation—I suppose it was the temptation which caused me to do it, then my conscience pricked me, and I spoke of my wife and children—I was receiving 22s. a week—on an average I took things which had not been stolen to Parkinson about once a week—I was arrested on February 10th, on the firm's premises—I was called up into Mr. Marshall's private office that day—the inspector was present, but not Buckley—they put several questions to me, and said they had missed things from stock, and that it would be better for me to tell the truth—it was a shocking thing for me to have to admit that I had robbed them—I did not tell them everything, I think I hesitated a bit, then my hesitation gave way, and I told them everything—I made a statement, and I think the inspector took it down; it was not read over—

Buckley was not in the room—I saw him that morning—I was put into another room after my statement was made, and I think they went and brought Buckley up, and I think he made a statement—I did not hear what he had said until I was at the Police Court—we were in the same cell at Bow Lane police station—Buckley spoke to me then.

DANIEL ILES . I am a porter in the prosecutors' employment—I remember on February 8th assisting Byford to load his van—Buckley assisted me to do it—we put three cases of Tate's sugar, No. 2, on the van.

Cross-examined. I have only been to either of Parkinson's places on one occasion with goods.

GEORGE LAWRENCE COLE . I am a clerk to the prosecutors—these two delivery sheets (Produced) are those for Byford's van on February 8th, one for the morning and one for the afternoon—neither of them contain any goods at all for Parkinson.

GEORGE HENRY POOR . I am a coffee packer in the prosecutors' employment—at 7 p.m. on February 8th, after business hours I was in Barbican—I know Parkinson and his shop in Barbican; on this night I was opposite it—I was looking at so me placards outside a newsagent's, and as I turned round I saw Byford drive up with our van—I see him get down and deliver some goods there; amongst them was a case of Tate's sugar marked 2, in red—I also see several parcels taken in, and a small box on top—the box was dovetailed—I know the boxes in which the "O.K." sauce is packed, and also the Nestle's milk boxes—this one was like neither of those; it was like a box in which Sun light soap or tinned apples are packed; they are both dovetailed—I spoke to my employers.

Cross-examined. That was after they had spoken to me—I never knew before that Byford delivered goods there—if he had been delivering goods there once a week for twelve months I think it would come to my knowledge.

Re-examined. My employers spoke to me about a fortnight or three weeks previously.

ROBERT LYON (Detective-Inspector, City). I was called in by Mr. Marshall, the managing director of W. S. Chapman & Co., Limited, on February 10th—I first saw Byford and then Buckley—they made statements in my presence, in consequence of which, having taken them into custody I went to 30, Aldersgate Street with Mr. Marshall—that is a coffee shop occupied by the prisoner—I saw him there—a sergeant was with me—I said, "We are police officers, and Mr. Marshall is managing director of Chapman & Co. Two of his men are now in custody for stealing a quantity of provisions from their place at 62, and from what they said I have reason to believe you can tell me something about the matter"—I also told him that we should like to look over his place, which he gave us permission to do, and went with us—Mr. Marshall picked out the goods set out in this list (Produced)—they were all taken possession of by me and eventually conveyed to Moor Lane police station—they are a parcel of tea, one parcel of raisins, a box of raisins, a box of sultanas, two boxes of Epps' cocoa, a case of sugar partly filled, and one case of tinned peas—I asked Parkinson if he was in a position to produce any receipts for them or any part of them—he said, "I might find them

later on, but at the present time I cannot lay my hands on them"—he was then taken into custody and we went to his other a shop at 24, Barbican, where we found two cases of sugar—I asked him if he could account for those in any way or could produce any receipts for them—he said he could not lay his hands on them then, but might find them, later on—he was taken to the station—when on the way, between the two shops, he said, "All the goods I received from Chapman's man I have always paid full price for and I think the man I got the goods from was one of Chapman's travellers, and I thought he had a right to bring the goods and receive money"—all the goods were taken to the police station and the three prisoners were brought into the room where they were placed, and in their presence I said, "This is the property that has been taken from Parkinson's two shops and supposed to be stolen from 62, Alders-gate Street, the employers of Byford and Buckley"—Byford said, "Those are the goods I have taken from time to time; some I have taken there and some I have sent there"—I asked Parkinson again to produce receipts for them, and he said he could later on—I made a note of what they said and used it at the Police Court—they were made in Parkinson's presence—Buckley said, "About twelve months ago I was a customer at Parkinson's dining rooms in the Barbican. He knew through conversation with me where I worked. One day he said to me, 'Have you got a long pocket?' By the way he said it I knew what he meant. I then commenced to take various articles which are sold by us to his shop at first I handed the articles I stole to Parkinson himself, and then at the end of each week he would pay me, and I used to receive from him about a quarter of the value of the goods I handed to him. When we got used to each other I would hand the goods to any of Parkinson's employees over the counter, and in Parkinson's presence, and he always settled up with me at the end of the week"—Parkinson said, "I always paid full value for the goods I received"—all the goods were then produced and Buckley picked up a piece of brown paper and a piece of string and said, "That is the bag I took to Parkinson and which contained coffee"—Parkinson said, "Some of those beans you saw in the box at Aldersgate street"—I had seen some beans—Buckley said, "Those are the whole of the goods I took or sent to Parkinson at various times."

Cross-examined. When I first saw Buckley at the prosecutors' premises I took a statement from him—I did not put any questions to him—I told him why I had come—he dictated his statement to me—I have been in the force some time—I did not put any questions to Byford, but he made a statement to me, which I took down—Mr. Marshall did not put any Questions to him—we did not tell them that it would be better for them to tell the truth—Buckley's statement at the station was made quite by himself—his statement was read over to Parkinson but he did not interpose—I found these goods in Parkinson's store room—there was a very large quantity of them—they were such as he would want in the course of his business—he said in the shop, "All the things I bought from Mr. Chapman's man I paid full price for"—there was no difficulty about our being allowed to search his premises—he has only been a few months at his shop in Aldersgate Street, but I think he has been four years in Barbican.

JONATHAN MARSHALL . I am managing director to W. S. Chapman & Co., Limited, wholesale grocers, of 62, Aldersgate Street—on February 10th I went with Lyon to 30, Aldersgate Street, and picked out goods which appeared to have belonged to my firm—we afterwards went to 24, Barbican and picked out two cases of Tate's sugar—one almost full and the other about one-third full—they are goods similar to those sold by us—I have identified the mark on the tapioca and can produce the dock warrant showing that that sack was sold to us—it has never been sold by us to anybody—it still appears on our books as being still in stock—the prisoner was our customer and I have here a complete list of all the goods purchased by him from us since March 16th, 1904, down to date—if this list was not prepared by me it was by one of our clerks under my direction—none of these goods produced have been sold to the prisoner by us—I know we have sold him raisins in a brown bag similar to this, and some castor sugar, so I am not sure of them—they may be the goods we sold him—we have sold him several 28 lbs. of sugar—we never sold a sack of castor sugar—we have sold him some cases of Tate's sugar like these.

Cross-examined. If goods are sent to a customer I think a delivery sheet is sent with them, but it does not come under my supervision—if a delivery sheet was sent and was signed by the customer it would be preserved—I have not got Parkinson's delivery sheets here—they would show the amount of the invoices which would be left with the customer—I have not counted the delivery sheets—I have looked through them but have not picked out each one—I cannot tell you how many there are—the items on this list are taken from the day books—we have got out this list by referring to Parkinson's ledger—I do not think I have seen one delivery sheet with his signature upon it—I have seen one or two I think with his servants' signatures—the goods are not always delivered by the same carman—I do not know how many carmen went to Parkinson's to deliver goods—I cannot say how many different people received his orders, or if they were cash transactions or paid after an interval—I will swear that this box of Tate's sugar and these peas have not been sold to him in the ordinary way—I say that because I do not find them in the day book—Mr. Cole keeps it—I missed the goods as being stolen before I went to Parkinson by seeing the stock list, which I have brought to me every week or more—I thought there was less than there should be—I found that we had missed things which we could not account for, and I found some of them on the prisoner's premises, but not all—we do not deal largely in a choice tea which is here—we do in the other things—the tea is a very finer tea, finer than a man in Parkinson's trade would require—we retail it at 2s. 2d. or 2s. 4d.—we have not supplied him with any tea unless he has paid cash at the shop—then it would not go into our books at all—if things are taken to him they would always appear in our books.

Re-examined. We give an official receipt for all goods other than those sold over the counter.

EDWIN JOHN ATKINS . I am warehouse clerk to Messrs. Chapman & Co.—I (have seen the goods produced—I identify a box of raisins

marked "Flor Pedreguer," a box of sultanas marked "S.B.," a sack of tapioca marked "g.w. 450," and a case of tinned peas marked "b.c. 225"—none of these goods, to my knowledge, were sold to Parkinson—I have looked for a record of it in our books, but do not find it.

Cross-examined. If they had been sold and delivered to Parkinson there would be a signed delivery sheet—I have not looked for one, because I do not have the control of sending them out; I can only swear that we have had the marks on our premises—I cannot say whether they have been sold to Parkinson or not, but they are finer fruit than he would buy—the raisins and things could be got elsewhere—I say the other things have not been sold to him, because neither the tapioca nor the peas have ever been charged to him—if they had been paid for 'on delivery they would have been in the book—before goods go out of our place of business an entry is made of them—there is no entry of this tapioca having gone out—the entry would be in the day book, which is kept by Cole—the only way I know the tapioca was not sold is because it is not in the day book—I have never known a properly conducted business where goods go out without being entered.

Re-examined. I do not find the goods as being in the possession of my employer.

THOMAS ADOLPHUS DREW . I am a tea taster of 32, Fenchurch Street—I have examined some parcels of tea found in the prisoner's possession—I recognise them—the only difference in them is that they are a little flat on account of being packed in brown paper—they are both fine teas; I know them as two of the best teas which Messrs. Chapman sell—they are not single teas, that is to Say, they are blended—I have sold some of the same quality to Messrs. Chapman; I cannot say exactly when, but I have done so for a long time—they are not the quality of tea which would be used in a coffee shop for carmen in Aldersgate Street or Barbican—fine teas are never used in such places.

Cross-examined. I do not sell this tea to anybody else.

JOHN ROBERT HENRY CHANDLER . I am a delivery foreman to Messrs. Mark Brown & Davis, wharfingers, of Tooley Street—this is a dock warrant for a number of sacks of tapioca—I have examined this one and seen its mark and number—it is included in this warrant, which is for the delivery of these sacks of tapioca to Messrs. W. S. Chapman & Co.

JOHN STEVENSON . I am secretary to Messrs. L. Noel, Son & Co. Limited, preserved provision importors at Southwark—I have seen" a case of tinned peas bearing the mark "Bordelais & Co.," which is our trade mark, number, b.c. 225—that case formed one of a consignment of fifty, fifteen of which were supplied to Messrs. Chapman & Co.—I cannot say if this is one of the fifteen.

FREDERICK SMITH . I am traveller to the prosecutors—about the middle of December I called upon Parkinson at Aldersgate Street, and said, "I represent Messrs. W. S. Chapman & Co; I have called upon you to see if I can open an account"—he said, "No, it is not worth while I do not wish a traveller to call; I can run round."

Cross-examined. I am the only City traveller—I did not know he was having goods delivered to him once a week—if he had been receiving goods weekly for twelve months he need not see me.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty, and I reserve my defence."

G. L. COLE (Re-examined). When goods come into the warehouse they are entered in what we call a Goods Received Book, and when they go out they are put into the day book—no goods are allowed to leave the premises unless they are put into the day book—an invoice is sent with the delivery sheet, and the goods must be signed or paid for—some customers have a ledger account; the prisoner has one—the ledger is made up from the day book and the invoices.

Cross-examined. The delivery sheets are preserved and show all the goods delivered to the prisoner in a legitimate manner.

Re-examined. There can be no delivery sheet showing deliveries to Parkinson without there being a corresponding entry in the day book.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he first knew Buckley to speak to six or seven months ago; that he said he was travelling for Chapman & Co.; that he had brought him goods for which he (the prisoner) had paid the market price at the end of the week; that sometimes the goods came in a van, but he did not know if By ford was the driver; that he (the prisoner) would get the money to pay Buckley from the cashier, and paid him over the counter, and got no receipt for the money, but that afterwards Buckley gave him receipts at the end of the week, but he did not keep them; that it was not true that he had tempted Buckley to rob his masters; that he did not know what a "long pocket" meant, that he always thought Buckley was a traveler and supplying him with goods from the firm legitimately; that the goods which he had had from, Chapman on February 10th he had not paid for, when he was arrested; that he had bought goods from other people besides Chapman, that he had never had a charge brought against him before and that he kept no books, but depended on his memory. He received a good character. GUILTY . Fourteen months' hard labour. BUCKLEY. Eight months' hard labour. BYFORD. Three months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-262

262. FRANK WAYMARK (53) , Feloniously wounding William Bourke with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. MCMAHON Prosecuted.

WILLIAM BOURKE . I am barman at the Ben Johnson, Harrow Road—on January 31st in the afternoon the prisoner came in, but I did not see him—I had orders from the governor that he was not to be served—he came again at 7 p.m. and called for a drink—I refused to serve him and asked him to leave the house quietly, and I walked down to the other end of the bar, lifted the flap and went and asked him to go—as I came to the door he pulled this hatchet (Produced) out and sliced me on the head with it—I was not rendered insensible—I called a policeman who was standing at the corner—a detective walked with me to the doctor, who stitched it up, and I went to the police station and charged the prisoner

who said he was sorry it was not in business order, as he intended to chop my head off—he was perfectly sober.

The prisoner. I cannot say if he is speaking the truth; I cannot remember it.

DAVID WATKIN JONES . I am a medical practitioner at 104, Sutherland Avenue—on January 31st the prosecutor came to my surgery—he had a scalp wound on the left side of his head about three inches long, made with an edged tool; it was a sort of slicing—if it had caught the skull on the top it would have probably killed him—I saw him several times after that—he has been under my care until last week—a scalp wound is always dangerous—he made a quick recovery and is now progressing favourably.

MORGAN LLOYD (451X.) At 7.30 p.m. on January 31st I arrested the prisoner—on the way to the station he said, "I meant doing the prosecutor in, I meant doing for him"—he had been drinking, but he was sober.

Prisoner's Defence. "I have no defence at all to make except that I had been drinking all the afternoon; I had never been in the house before in my life; I do not even know who I was with." [The Jury stated that they unshed to know if there was any evidence at to the state of the prisoner's mind.]

ALBERT AYRES . From inquiries I have made I find the prisoner was sent to Horton Asylum on August 29th, 1903, and returned in August, 1904—he was staying with his sister, who returned home one day and found him taking the pictures from the wall—previous to that she returned home and found that he had got a fire burning in the middle of the floor.

JAMES SCOTT . I am the medical officer at Brixton Prison—the prisoner told me he had been in an asylum and on that account, and because of the nature of his crime, he has been kept under observation since February 1st—he has been perfectly rational throughout and showed no signs of insanity at all—he may have been insane at one time—on this occasion he presented some indications of recent drinking—from what he tells me he probably had a bout of alcoholic insanity.

GUILTY of the act, but insane so as not to be responsible for his actions. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday, March 14th and 15th, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-263

263. ALLEN CUNARD (37) and THOMAS DUFFETT (30) , Committing an act of gross indecency with each other.

MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL, K.C., MR. RANDOLPH, and MR. W. B. CAMPBELL appeared for Cunard, and MR. CLARKE HALL for Duffett.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-264

264. LAWRENCE BUCKLEY (26) and GEORGE PALMER (33) , Robbery with violence upon Isaac Letowich, and stealing from him a purse and fifteen rings, his goods and money.

MR. COHEN Prosecuted; MR. THORNE appeared for Buckley; and MR. METHVEN for Palmer.

ISAAC LETOWICH (Partly interpreted). I live at 10, Scarborough Street, Whitechapel—on February 9th, about 8 p.m., I was in Union Street, Whitechapel—I came through a street which was not very light—three men came up to me and caught hold of my glass chain, thinking it was a watch—seeing that it was not a watch they took hold of me and threw me down—I did not know what they were doing to me—they punched me on the neck—I cannot say whether the prisoners are two of the men—the men took a bunch of fifteen rings from my pocket—I am a jeweller's traveller.

Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I was attacked suddenly in front—I fell backwards—my throat was squeezed on both sides.

Cross-examined by MR. METHVEN. I told the constable who arrested the prisoners that they were the men who had robbed me, but I did not know clearly—when I was attacked I screamed very much—two witnesses ran out of their houses and found that I was lying on my chest—I do not know that there was a good deal of excitement—there may have been three men or six—a young woman named Betsy Shuman came up to me and spoke to me—I do not remember whether it was in Yiddish or English—I told her I had been robbed—I was not robbed of any money—there were rings in the purse—I have not got them back—at first I thought I had also been robbed of a pair of bracelets, but I found those in my back trousers pocket.

BETSY SHUMAN . I am a buttonhole machinist and live at 15, Union Street, Whitechapel—on Thursday, February 9th, about 8 o'clock, I was standing outside my door—I heard someone screaming—I went to see what it was—I got to Holloway Street, where I saw the prosecutor on the ground and Buckley lying on top of him—the other prisoner was bending over the prosecutor—I went up to them and asked what was the matter—Palmer said, "The man is in a fit and we cannot understand his language, can you speak Yiddish?"—I said, "I will speak to him"—as soon as I said that, Buckley got up and both prisoners walked away—they went in different directions—I asked the prosecutor, "What is the matter?"—he said, "They tried to rob me"—I called for a constable and one came—as Buckley was going along I said to the constable, "Stop, arrest this man; he has robbed a man"—he caught hold of him—Buckley said, "It isn't me; it's the other one that has got the money"—I then ran after Palmer—I got up to him and said, "You have got to be arrested"—he said, "It isn't me, it's the other one running along the road there"—he pointed with his finger—there was a third man.

Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. When I got up to the group Buckley was lying on the prosecutor—I should think I was there four minutes and all that time Buckley was lying on him and holding his face—when the

prisoners got up they walked away slowly and then turned in different directions—I am absolutely certain as to the words used.

Cross-examined by MR. METHVEN. The prosecutor was not sitting on the ground as I came into Holloway Street—there are a good many tailors' shops in that district and about the time in question a good many women come away from their work—when I went up to them first I thought probably the prosecutor was in a fit—I spoke to the prosecutor and he said, "They tried to rob me and take my money"—I saw the prisoners the whole time until they were arrested.

JANE CARTER . I am 15 years old and live at 4, Mulberry Street, Whitechapel—that is a few yards from Holloway Street—I saw the prosecutor in a sitting position on the pavement while the prisoners were bending over him—I saw Miss Shuman go over and ask what was the matter with the old man—the prisoners said he was in a fit and they could not understand him, and asked her if she could speak Yiddish—the two men then walked away—we went after them and a constable caught hold of Buckley, who said, "It's not me, I have got no money; it's the other man that's got the money"—Miss Shuman and I then ran after Palmer.

Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I was with the prosecutor about a minute when the men quietly walked away—when I came up to the constable Buckley was in charge—Miss Shuman said, "That is the man; take him"—I did not notice that Buckley's hand was tied up.

Cross-examined by MR. METHVEN. I have an accurate recollection of what took place—Miss Shuman said to Palmer, "Stop, you have got to be arrested"—there was a crowd of people.

ISAAC FORD (16 H.R.) About 8.15 p.m. on February 9th I was on duty in Commercial Road, when I heard cries of "Stop him"—I turned into Union Street, where I saw Buckley walking towards me, followed by Betsy Shuman—she said, "Take him, he has robbed a man—I caught hold of him—he said, "I have done nothing; that is him, he has got the money," pointing to the other prisoner, who was walking in the opposite direction—he was about a dozen yards away—Buckley said, "Let us run after him," and we commenced to run together—he said, "You cannot hold me," and commenced to struggle—the other prisoner tried to enter the Union Flag, but was refused admittance and was detained by the crowd—I then took him into custody and handed one prisoner over after I had got the assistance of another constable—I afterwards saw the prosecutor in Union Street—he appeared to be dazed and was bleeding from the mouth—I had both prisoners then—the prosecutor said, "They have robbed me"—at the station Palmer said, "Well, I thought he was in a fit; I did not know."

Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I said at the Police Court that Buckley said, "You cannot hold me"—I did not notice it was not on the depositions when I signed them—Buckley tried to get away—it was after the prisoners were in custody that the prosecutor said, "Those are the men that robbed me."

Cross-examined by MR. METHVEN. They did not make any remark to each other—when I arrested Palmer there was a crowd—at the Police

Court, when Palmer was asked if he had anything to say, he said, "I was going towards Whitechapel and saw the old man there and said to some people, "I think he is in a fit; I then walked away, when some people stopped me'"—while being taken to the station the prisoners did not get rid of anything—I did not know then that the prosecutor had said he thought he had been robbed by three men, or that to-day he has said it might have been six or even twelve men.

By the COURT. When I arrested Buckley he had a slight bandage round his finger, not a large bandage as at present.

Buckley's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty."

Palmer's statement before the Magistrate: "I was going towards Whitechapel and saw the old man there, and I said to some people, "I think he is in a fit, and then walked away and some people stopped me."

Buckley, in his defence on oath, said that he had been to see some friends in High Street, Whitechapel, and was passing through Holloway Street, when he saw a crowd; that he went to see what was the matter; that one of the people said, "There is a man in a fit"; that he stood there for a moment or two, and then walked away, when Miss Shuman called out that he was to be taken into custody for robbing a man; that the constable caught hold of his poisoned hand: and that he never touched the prosecutor.

Palmer, in his defence on oath said that he saw the prosecutor sitting on the pavement and said to someone standing there, "What is the matter?" that the man said, "Someone in a fit," when he (the prisoner) walked away and, seeing Miss Shuman, said to her, "Can you speak Yiddish? There is one of your people in a fit" and as he turned into a public-house to get a drink he was arrested, and that he never touched the prosecutor. GUILTY . Buckley then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on November 20th, 1899. Five other convictions were proved against him. One summary conviction was proved against Palmer. BUCKLEY. Three years' penal servitude. PALMER. Twelve months' hard labour.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, March 9th and 10th; and

NEW COURT.—Saturday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and

Friday, March 11th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, and 11th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-265

265. FREDERICK CHARLES BATTLEBURY (32), JAMES BATTLEBURY and FREDERICK LAMPLOUGH (30) , Conspiring together by false pretences to defraud the London County Council of £91 13s.

Mr. H. F. DICKENS, K.C., MR. GEORGE ELLIOTT and MR. CECIL FITCH Prosecuted: MR. MARSHALL HALL, K.C., M.P., and MR. ARTHUR HUTTON Defended F. C. Battlebury; MR. ARTHUR HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Defended James Battlebury, and MR. HUNTLEY JENKINS Defended Lamplough.

CHARLES HAYSMAN . I live at 28, Clifton Road, Hackney—I am a cabinet maker at 15, Kenmure Road, Hackney—I have known Lamplough some years; she used to work for a firm of auctioneers—about

the end of September or the beginning of October last year at the corner of Media a Road I had a conversation with him—he said, "You are just the one I wanted to see"—I said, "Oh"—he said, "Yes, I think I can put you on a deal; you will get a fiver out of it"—I said, "Yes, where is it? What is it?"—he said, "Come along, we will soon see," but I could not get any other word out of him edgeways as to what it was about—I walked as far as Battleburys' place, where I saw James Battlebury in the yard—I had never heard of the Battleburys before—Lamplough spoke to him, and he said, "You want to see my son," or words to that effect—I was taken into an office at the back of the yard—Fred Battle, bury was there—Lamplough said, "This is the one I was talking to you about," and he walked out—I said, "What is it about? Let's have a look at it; I want to go back to the shop," or words to that effect—I thought there was something for sale—Fred Battlebury said, "Sit down; that will be all right," and then he started telling me about an accident—I sat down—he said, "You know there was an accident in arch to one of my horses"—I said, "I do not know anything about it"—I was in a little bit of confusion at the time—I said, "I was at Spitalfields at the time"—he said, "That will be all right," and then he drew a sketch of his yard-way showing where the mare was driven and the turning round towards Cambridge Street—he said, "That is the hole where my horse fell down"—I said, "What is the good of talking to me about it?"—he said, "Well, that is where the accident was"—I said, "I have already told you I know nothing about it"—the sketch was in ink on a piece of paper and a couple of lines were drawn for the opening of the gateway—he said that there should have been planks and a watchman, but he was having a drink somewhere—I believe he said the horse was a grey mare and worth about £80, but I would not be sure about that—he said there was no lamp there—I have not got the sketch; I did not think about it, but I can draw it—(The witness drew a sketch upon a piece of paper)—that is just about how it was—he put marks where the poles ought to be round the hole, or on each side of it, but as I never saw the hole I did not know whether there was a hole or not—I said, "It is a little bit thick"—he said, "That will be all right you will be seen all right about it"—the sketch was on the table—he gave me this slip of paper and said, "Come and see me at 10.30 on Friday"—(On the slip was "10.30 Friday, 315, Mare Street")—I kept the paper, and it has got dirty—I saw him write it—when I was told about going again I said, "No, it is a bit thick; I do not want to have anything to do with it"—I think I put both the sketch and the paper in the pocket of this overcoat, where, I believe, this paper has been ever since—I showed it to my brother—I did not trouble any more about them—I found the paper quite promiscuously in my pocket and wonder it had not been thrown away—I have searched for the sketch, but I have not seen it since a day or two after I had shown it to my brother—he asked me to show it to somebody else—I do not remember doing so—when I came out of the office Lamplough was waiting—he said, "Wait a minute," and he went and saw Battlebury in the room I had

just left—he came out and said, "Charlie, come and have a drink; I have just got a half-crown off Battlebury"—I said, "All right," and went and had one in the Cock Tavern, next door—Lamplough said, "You know this means something for me; I am all right for a certain job"—I do not think we had any further conversation then—I left the Cock Tavern—I did not keep the appointment—I met Lamplough in the Median Road two or three days afterwards—he said, "I was just coming to you," and that he had a letter for me from Battlebury—he opened the envelope himself and read the letter to me, but kept it in his hands all the time—I said I should not keep the appointment—it was to meet at Battleburys' office and go on to the solicitors, or something of that effect—it appeared to be in the same writing as the slip of paper—the envelope was addressed to me at 28, Clifton Road, and the time mentioned was 10.30 to be at Battleburys' office—he tore the letter up and threw it in the gutter—I said, "That is just about the use it is fit for"; then we parted—I have not spoken to either of the prisoners since, but Fred Battlebury has been to the place I am working at—I next saw the prisoners in the Police Court—after I had given my evidence I saw Fred Battlebury at some auction rooms in Median Road, but he did not see me—he was with my young governor—when I was at Battleburys' office this book was lying on the desk—I am quite sure of it, because I could not forget the name outside, which was "Accidents"—it was open about the middle—Fred Battlebury wrote down "Haysman, Accident No. 2"—I saw him write it; I was sitting quite near and partly behind him—I do not know the page of the book, but it was between 235 and 238—some people incorrectly spell my name "Hasman" and "Hazeman"—I lived at 22, Hale Street, Deptford, from 1887 to 1889—I left when I got married—I did not give evidence in January, 1893, for Battleburys, I did not even know they were in existence.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL. I work for my living at 15, Kenmure Road—I have been a cabinet maker on and off for fourteen or fifteen years—I have regular wages according to the work I do—I renovate and keep antique furniture—I do not fake it—I put lines where they are wanted, but not marqueterie lines—I worked for Mr. Waatt—I have been in the public-house trade, and in one place for eight years. I had the supervision for eight years—I held two licenses previous to that—I looked after the Duke of Cambridge, and the Artillery Tavern—I did cabinet making then—I went backwards and forwards to the workshop—I was at the Duke of Cambridge about three months, and about eight months at the Artillery Tavern—since then I have worked for my brother only—I worked for about eight years at 237, Victoria Park Road—I have since been in trouble about some jewellery to the amount of about 2s. 6d. where there was collateral security—I was in a lawyer's office, where I read about collateral securities in the papers—that was about 1884, and I had to copy it about a mortgage—I was office boy to Mr. Green about twenty years ago—I left because I could not understand the abbreviations; every time they put "sd" I put "second"—the next place I got they gave the work out to be copied, and I stopped over twelve months—I had six shillings a week—then I went to

a public accountant's office, where I might have been about a couple of years—I was born in the cabinet line—I left school about thirteen or fourteen—I did some cabinet work when I was about twelve—Lamplough might have handed me the letter, but it was not entirely out of his possession nor absolutely in my possession—I may have turned it round to see it—I have done some work on a grandfather clock for Mr. Waatt—Fred Battlebury did not mention a word about a grandfather clock to me—I thought I was going to see him about a deal, and you never know your luck, you might get a fiver, but he Would not tell me what it was for—I was in a position to get money within a short time to pay for whatever I bought—I should have sold it as it was—when I saw Fred Battlebury I saw at once there was something fishy about the matter—I did not keep the sketch because I did not trouble any more about it—I missed it when I first went to give evidence—I cannot give the date when I was first asked to give evidence, but it was about three months before Christmas—I mentioned the matter to one or two people, I think two were police officers—a detective came to me once or twice about January 19th—I had only mentioned it to my brother previous to his coming—I tried to find the sketch when I was asked about it, but I could not—I have only three rooms to look through—in my answer at the Police Court I said I believed it was a grey mare, but I would not be sure that Fred Battlebury said it was a grey mare—I would not be sure that he said there were two accidents—he said there were no red lights, and there was no watchman—Battleburys' address was 313, but I was told it was called 315 on account of the public-house—I did not know Mason or Horn before this case when I saw them on the Friday—I have known Lamplough pretty well for the last four years, but I have known him a good many years—I bought some plate for 1s., sold it for 2s., and it cost 9d. to sell it—we have both attended sales—I did not ask his opinion about things sold—sometimes I might ask him, "What do you think of that," about some old thing outside a door—I saw him in Amhurst Road when he took a man out of a public-house to be a witness, but the old man said a fiver was not good enough—Lamplough and he went to Battlebury's and came back again—when I said at the Police Court that that witness was only 6 7/8 parts of a man I meant it would only take 1/8 to finish him—the man came back by himself.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I have two rooms and the use of another one at 28, Clifton Road—I pay 6s. 6d. rent—the workshop is in Kenmure Yard, where I work under my brother—it is about ten minutes walk from Battleburys'—Lamplough and I strolled along gently—I asked him what we were going for—he said, "You will see when you get there"—that did not excite my suspicion, because we do not tell too much when we are going to sell a thing, because the other one might get there first—my impression was that I was going to do a deal, and I would go and see what article it was—I showed him the sketch when I came out of Battleburys', I had it in my hand at the time, and he saw me look at it—I said I should have nothing to do with it—I repeated that to Lamplough—he went into Battleburys' as soon as I came out—when he came out again I had the sketch in my hand—I have not dealt in grandfather's clocks—I

answered what Mr. Young asked me at the Police Court—I do not know why Lamplough said, "I am all right for a certain job," but I know he had been out of work a considerable time—I was under the impression that he had been out of work for a fortnight or three weeks, because he asked me if I could give him a job of washing off—I have met Lamplough several times since, in fact he has been in my workshop after that—we have talked about the accident—I think I spoke to Sharp about the accident about the same time the detectives spoke to him, I saw him speaking to the detectives, and I saw him afterwards—I did not keep the dates—Sharp was coming along Mare Street when Lamplough pulled him up and spoke to him and Sharp said to Lamplough, "Give us a chance to earn a straight tanner," I did not hear what Lamplough said to Sharp, but Sharp said, "No, I do not want anything of that, I would sooner push a barrow to earn a straight tanner"—goodness knows how many were to be paid for being witnesses—I knew Sharp from his doing work for the same people as I did, but he was never a witness then.

Re-examined. I have been in the cabinet trade forty odd years—it was my father's business when I was a boy, we all had a bench of our own, and my father used to pay us a 1d. or 1 1/2 d. an hour to encourage us—I learned the business as a boy—when I left school I went to a solicitor's office at the age of thirteen or fourteen—I went to a public accountant's office at 27, Walbrook—I do not know how long I remained there—I have always been steady, and have earned regular wages—on leaving the accountants I went into the public house trade, and I managed one house for my father-in-law eight years—that was the Britannia—I still used to do cabinet making jobs—when I said I would have nothing more to do with it I did not trouble any more about it.

FREDERICK ARTHUR MASON . I live at 1, Rushmore Road, Clapton—I was a provision salesman, but I am not now—I have recently gone into other employment—I have known Lamplough eight or ten years, first as secretary of a football club and then clerk to Bunch & Duke, auctioneers—prior to the beginning of October last year I lost sight of him for some time—I had been to the north of England a good time and when I left the north I went to south London—towards the end of September or the beginning of October I met Lamplough casually at the corner of Clarence Road, Hackney—we simply said, "How do you do?" and I left him—about the beginning of November I met him again in the Clarence Road about noon—he asked me how I was doing—I told him I was out of work and was doing pretty rough—he asked me would I like to earn a five pound note—I said, "Yes, I should, very much"—he said, "Come along with me"—I said, "Well, what am I to do for you?"—he said, "Come and see a friend of mine, and then we will explain matters fully to you"—I accompanied him to Battleburys' premises in Mare Street—on the way I kept asking him about it, but he would not give me any definite reply—he said had I seen an accident?—I said, "No," and he told me that they wanted a witness or two, would I come and see Mr. Battlebury about it?—he said that some improvements in Hackney were taking place by the County

Council and that one or two, I would not be sure which, of Battleburys' horses had met with some sort of accident, and they wanted me as a witness to say that I saw the accident—I said, "All right, let us come and see what Battleburys have got to say"—according to my recollection of the conversation, that is the effect of it—I had not told Lamplough that I had see any accident—when we got to the premises I went through the yardway into the office, and was introduced to Frederick Battlebury—he said, "Mr. Battlebury, Mr. Mason, Mr. Mason, Mr. Battlebury," then they both burst out laughing—I said, "It is no good laughing; let us get to the point at once. I know what I am brought here for; let's know what you are going to say," then I got into conversation with Battlebury—Limplough remained in the room—Battlebury told me that on a certain date in March, I do not recollect which, the London County Council were making improvements in Hackney, and that Battlebury's horses and vans had met with an accident—he then drew me a plan of the place where the yard runs into Mare Street, from point to point—this is the sketch that he made in my presence—this is on a scrap of paper which he picked up on his desk—there are marks on the plan which he showed me, which was supposed to be the Town Hall and the Cock Tavern, adjoining his premises, and I wrote "T. Hall" and "Cock Tavern" in their presence—he explained what took place when he drew the sketch—he told me the horse and van drew out of their yard, and they had to cross a hole about eight inches to ten inches deep; that the London County Council had put planks across to make it secure so that the vehicle could pass over, that while passing over those planks I believe he said the weight of the near side horse, I believe it was a grey mare, broke through the planks, that the van came down with a jump into the hole and that the horse fell, but that it gained its feet again, that the driver was not thrown from the dicky, and that then the van was pulled round into Morning Lane—this is what I am supposed to have seen—then Battlebury two or three minutes after the accident took place was supposed to have come across to Morning Lane, hobbling on two sticks, and he was supposed to have seen me standing by—he said, "Did you see the accident?"—I was supposed to say "Yes"—he then took my name and address and said I should hear from him—I was to say that to their solicitor as what was supposed to have happened—he then made an appointment for me to appear at Mr. Clifford Turner's office the following Tuesday at an address at Finsbury Pavement—this paper in my writing contains the notes I made from Battlebury's dictation to prepare to make my statement to his solicitor, Mr. Clifford Turner, the following Tuesday—he also gave me one of Mr. Turner's headed memorandums—I took it down after he had said it, after the first conversation; then when he approached me about appearing at the solicitor's office I said, "The best thing is to give me full particulars; of course I shall not commit myself at the solicitors', and then he made notes about the grey mare and what he wanted me to say at the solicitors', and I said, "The best thing I can have is the notes ready so that I shan't make a mistake when I am making my statement—he handed

me the paper and I wrote down then and there in the office to the best of my recollection, "8th March; 10.30 morning, fine; pair-horse covered van loaded; grey and black; grey off side; hole about ten feet square; went down; carman not pulled off dicky; down on his side"—that is in ink in my writing—then in pencil is added, "H. Clifford Turner & Co., 68, Finsbury Pavement"—when Fred Battlebury had told me the solicitors' address I had handed my pen back to him, I took a pencil out of my pocket and wrote what is written in pencil—I saw him write "Friday, 4 o'clock"—I had put the paper in my pocket and I took it out to add the name—I then left—Battlebury gave me half-a-crown to get a drink, and I took it to my wife, in consequence of which I had a conversation with her, the result of which was I went to the London County Council on the Monday morning following and had an interview with a representative of the Council—the following day, Tuesday, I went to Clifford Turner's office—I saw a clerk, and came away—I next went to Turner's office on Friday, October 7th—before that I had seen the three prisoners—I met Lamplough I am positive once or twice walking through Hackney—on the Friday I saw at Turner's office Battlebury, Lamplough, and Horn—I had been meeting Lamplough every day and the Battleburys on and off—on one occasion I told Fred Battlebury that I should tell Clifford Turner exactly what sort of a witness I was going to be—he said, "The best thing you can do is to keep your mouth shut, and wink at these things. He knows all about it; you only do what you are asked"—the "he" referred to the solicitor—on the Friday I reached Turner's office about 4.5 p.m.—I found Fred Battlebury, Lamplough, and Horn in Mr. Turner's private room—they were sitting down when I was shown in by a clerk—Fred Battlebury said to Mr. Turner, "This is Mason, the witness on the Morning Accident"—as far as I can recollect, I was asked to take a seat and then Mr. Turner called in a shorthand clerk, who sat on the right of him and he then commenced to take Lamplough's statement—Lamplough commenced making his statement about the accident, and when they came to the point as to where the accident exactly took place outside what house in Hackney, Turner put him right—I believe Lamplough had said that it took place, as far as he recollected, outside Dresdner's shop, but Turner said it was opposite the jeweller's—my opinion was that Turner knew all about it and Lamplough didn't—I think Turner had to tell Lamplough it was a grey horse instead of a brown one, or something of that—there was an argument between Turner and Lamplough about those points; they were a long time getting Lamplough's statement correct—in nearly everything Lamplough said Turner had to put him straight—when Lamplough had finished Horn was the next to make a statement—as far as I recollect, Turner asked him if he agreed with the previous witness—Horn said, "Yes," and then turner dictated to the shorthand clerk the long statement which read precisely as Lamplough had said it—Horn never said a word to interrupt the statement—I cannot recollect Turner asking Horn any other question—then they dealt with me—Turner asked me practically the same, and then dictated to his shorthand clerk precisely as he had done with Horn,

but I interrupted—I said, "Excuse me, I did not"—he said, "You mind your own business," so I shut up—a few days afterwards I wrote out from recollection what Turner had dictated to his shorthand writer as nearly as I could recollect it: that on the morning of a certain date which, I believe, was in March, I was walking from Clapton towards Cambridge Heath about 10 o'clock a.m. Passing Battleburys' yard a pair-horse van drew out. I stood back on the pavement to allow it to draw by me. I think I saw the London County Council's workmen putting some planks down over a hole which was just on the right of Battleburys' yard. The grey horse stumbled, put his foot through the planks, and the van came into the bole bumb. The driver did not fall off the dicky; he then drew round to Morning Lane on the left of Battleburys', coming out of their entrance, and Mr. Battlebury was supposed to come across and see me standing by the horse and van after it was pulled up, and I gave him my name and address, as I stated first. The horse was all of a tremble and kept purring with its fore feet or pawing with its front leg—that is as far as I can really recollect it—there may be other things, but that is the substance of it—after the statements had been dictated to the shorthand clerk, Lamplough, Horn, and I adjourned into the waiting room outside Turner's private room, leaving Battlebury behind with Turner—we waited there about ten or fifteen minutes—when Battlebury came out we all went out of the-office together, and into a public-house for refreshment—Battlebury gave us-half-a-crown apiece—the following day I saw the prisoners, I think the two Battleburys and Lamplough, somewhere in Hackney—Fred Battlebury told me that he was going to take the carman from their premises to go to Turner's to make a statement, and Mr. Turner wanted us to sign our statements—I told him I should decline absolutely point blank to sign any statement—I cannot remember dates, we had such a number of conversations—one conversation was with James Battlebury in the warehouse, when he told me the Council had retained Mr. Dickens, but they had beaten him two or three times and meant to beat him again—I believe that was the time he threatened to kick me out of the place—I walked into Battlebury's yard and asked if there was anything fresh, when he said, "You damned young scoundrel, things have come to our ears which have rather surprised us, we are going to drop this case with the London County Council," then, I believe, I left the place—this happened as I was passing down to the gateway—he told me that Clifford Turner had advised them to drop the case—I asked him why, and he said. "You must understand you know that the solicitors are dead against each other in Court, but they are the best of friends outside, and give each other the tip of what has taken place," and he said that he had been told that somebody had been to the County Council and had given the game away—he said that I had, and that it had come to Clifford Turner's ears that somebody had been to the County Council making statements—I had been there a good many times, making reports—roughly speaking, I believe I denied it—a day or two after I left James Battlebury I saw Fred Battlebury in his private office and suggested that Lamplough had been touting

it round Hackney just like dirt to everybody, and that somebody had gone up to the Council—he said that might be the case—I said, "Then how are you going to finish up with the County Council?"—he said, "Of course we shall have to pay their costs. The explanation I shall give is that we have not got sufficient to carry the case on with," and I think he said that the evidence was not sufficient—I had another conversation with Lamplough on one occasion, I do not recollect the date, when he asked me to go as witness for Battleburys in an action against Mann & Crossman—I told him I would not do it for a £1,000—that took place facing the Hackney Railway Tavern—I said I could not stop any longer I wanted to get away—that was soon after the conversation about dropping the case against the County Council, but Fred Battlebury had told me of the action against Mann & Crossman long before that—he said that when their man was driving in Holloway Road the horse was startled by one of Mann & Crossman's traction engines, and that the driver was thrown out, or thrown down and hurt—subsequent to that conversation Lamplough asked me to become a witness—I remember one occasion when Fred Battlebury told me that a surveyor was coming down to take the plan of where the accident took plate—that was in an action against the County Council—he promised me £5, carrying out Lamplough's previous promise—he said he would make me a present of a £5 note or perhaps a little more according to the damages he got—I asked the Battleburys for my expenses two or three times—Fred Battlebury said that he could not be bled—that was before the case was given up—he also said that it would cost them about £100 as it was—he contradicted himself a few days afterwards by telling me that Clifford Turner's did these sort of things on commission—James Battlebury told me that in the warehouse when we were speaking about Clifford Turner's and he said that they had done their law work as regards accidents and such like—he said they were the recognised firm of solicitors for accidents and that he had introduced young fellows from Hackney who had met with accidents, and that Clifford Turner's never charged them anything, but if they were to get £100 damages Clifford Turner's would give them about £40 out of the £100 damages.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I answered the questions put to me at the Police Court—things often slip ray memory—a witness does not know what he is going to be asked—I realised that I was asked to commit perjury—I did not knock the man down—I was annoyed—I told him I thought it was rather funny—if I had intended blackmail I should have kept it to myself—I did not tell Lamplough that I had seen the accident—I had known him a long time, but had not seen him for five or six years—the first time I heard about a horse of Battleburys' being killed by dynamite was when I was in the North London Police Court, when Lamplough asked for my evidence, and I told him, "The man must be mad if he wants that"—a friend of mine got me employment in the West End—I can give the name to the judge—I was a provision salesman about two years at a house in Tooley Street—I was a few months there—then I went to another

house in Tooley Street—I have not been to America—I have crossed the Channel—I was never further a field than that—I have been charged with embezzlement and forgery—I have never been to Amsterdam—have been to Seacombe, near Birkenhead—I did not get six months there—at the time of this accident I was in gaol—one man's word is as good as another's—I came out of prison on July 19th last year—I wanted money—I did not expect to get the fiver—I went to Battleburys' to see what it was all about, and to earn a few shillings for my wife and children, but I gave Lamplough no promise that I was going to commit perjury—I have no feeling against Mr. Clifford Turner in this matter, I should not like to suggest that he wanted to procure false evidence—I gave the names of Clifford Turner and Battlebury to the County Council, and I was to keep my appointment with Turner and report to them what took place there—I received from the Council about 2s. 6d., or 5s., or 7s. 6d., and 8d. railway fare each time I went—I got about 50s. altogether from them—I went there twelve or fourteen times—I never had as low an amount as 2s.—I first went on the 5th—I saw an elderly gentleman—when I went to Turner's on the 7th I knew I was not going to give evidence—I asked Turner whether they wanted to subpoena me—I borrowed 5s. from Fred Battlebury, telling him my child was dying, to pay rent, and 5s. to pay for paper bags, saying I was going to set up as a greengrocer—I never got the bags—if I acted as a spy what would they do for my wife and children if I was in trouble?—I did not care 2d. for Battlebury, and no stranger would lend to another stranger unless he wanted him to do something—I have been taught that lesson—my character has been irreproachable since I came out of prison—neither Turners nor Battleburys knew of my conviction—Lamplough knew nothing of my past career, but I knew something of him—I suggest that he invited me to commit perjury—I told him not to take me for a damned fool—I got a drink and three half-crowns from Mann & Crossman's solicitors—I have been convicted twice in Liverpool—Irvings prosecuted me for embezzlement and forgery—I admit that I served Irvings the dirtiest trick they ever served me—I am sorry I have done such a trick—I was a damned fool to have allowed that office to be left, and I felt myself wrong—after leaving Liverpool I did another dirty trick, got six months, and when I came out I led a straight life; that is the whole rigmarole—my father was an honest solicitor—I had seen him take down evidence—I was a witness in a long firm case in this Court two years ago—my proof was taken by an inspector at Marylebone police station—in this case Turner corrected Lamplough on points such as to where the accident took place—I do not suggest that he told him what to say—I think strongly that Lamplough never saw the accident—when I was going on Turner stopped me—afterwards when I went to see him he was not in—I told Fred Battlebury I was a truthful witness, and that I knew nothing about the case—I did not tell Turner so; I never saw him afterwards—I said I would not sign a statement, but not "I will not sign my statement till I have my subpoena money and expenses"—that is a lie—I told Fred Battlebury I would not sign a statement till I had my subpoena money and expenses—that was after my interview with Turner—I dictated what I recollected of my statement to my

wife—it is similiar to what Turner had taken down—I dictated it a few days after my interview with Turner—it was not for the purpose of handing it to the County Council—I did not say I wanted a guinea—I asked for y fee—Fred Battlebury referred me to Turner—I might have said I did not want to take a job up for nothing—I told Battlebury I could get nothing from Turner—I did not tell Turner I usually got a bit of gold when I gave evidence—I had given evidence in another case—I usually got a guinea on my subpoena—I do not think Turner refused to sec me—two or three times I went there he was out—Fred Battlebury called me a young blackguard, or a young swine—I did not see the accident, and when Lamplough took me to the solicitors' office and began to make a statement I thought it was too thick—there was not the slightest ill-feeling between me and Turner.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I saw very little of James Battlebury—my conversations were with Fred Battlebury and Lamplough—James Battlebury was very seldom in the warehouse; he was in the office or in the yard—he asked me not to smoke, as the sparks might catch fire—he referred me to Fred Battlebury every time I went—it was James Battlebury who told me that the County Council had got the "wheeze," and knew what was taking place—he led me to believe that Turners worked on commission—he told me so—he did not ask me to go away—I believe I asked both the Battleburys for a job—I think Lamplough got it instead.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I made no definite promise to give evidence—I had no intention to do so—I never go in for committing perjury—I did not give any explanation to my wife; she trusts me, but I went out with nothing and came home with half-a-crown and told her where I got it, and after our conversation I went on the Monday morning to the County Council—I saw a gentleman who asked me questions and then called a clerk who took it down in longhand—I did not tell them I had been convicted, nor what I was going to say to Turners—they asked what my expenses were—they gave me 7s. 6d. or half a sovereign—Fred Battlebury told me he was not going on with the accident, and he accused me of going to the County Council and I as strenuously said it was not me at all—I spoke to Battleburys' about Mann & Crossman's action before the action against the County Council dropped—I saw a broken trap in Battleburys' yard, an old ramshackle thing—I did not ask how it was broken.

Third Court, Friday, March 10th, 1905.

ALBERT ARTHUR HORN . I am a painter, of 58, London Road, Clapton—I have known Lamplough some time—in September I met him in Mare Street, Hackney, outside the Penny Bank—I was out of work—he asked me if I was doing anything—I said no, I was not at present—he said, "I can put you on something all right; meet me to-morrow morning at 10 o'clock by the Hackney railway station"—I met him there—he said, "Come along with me; I will take you to Mr. Battlebury's"—I did not know why; Lamplough said nothing till I got inside—I saw both the Battleburys, whom I do not remember having seen before—Fred Battlebury

said "Sit down; have you heard about our little accident?"—I said, "No, never heard nothing about it"—James Battlebury was walking about, looking at the warehouse, and not listening—Fred Battlebury went on explaining that they had a pair-horse van leaving their yard when the roads was being reconstructed, the Council's men did not leave the boards right when the van was coming out of the yard, but the board either gave way or broke, the wheel sank to where the blocks had been up, and the horse, in making an effort to extricate itself from this position, injured itself: the carman drew over, and went as far as Morning Lane, then pulled up, and discovered the horse was injured (he did not explain what the injury was) and that he drove back to the yard—I think he said it was a grey mare, but I would not be certain—Lamplough was present, but did not take any part in Battlebury's explanation to me—Fred Battlebury drew out a sketch where the boards were supposed to have been laid, and from his yard on to the block paving—I had it, and have looked for it since, but have not been able to find it; I do not remember what became of it—I looked at it, but did not make any note on it—when he took me in Lamplough said, "Here is the one I was speaking to you about"—Battlebury said, "Sit down"; then he said, "Will you see me to-morrow outside the Hackney station, and I will take you to my solicitor's and you will hear all about it?"—I left with Lamplough—we were both doing nothing, so we took a walk round—I spent a shilling which Battlebury gave us for a drink—the next morning I met Lamplough by Hackney station—I also met Fred Battlebury—we took a train to Broad Street, and went to Finsbury Square to see the solicitor—on the way in the train Battlebury said, "You will see Mr. Clifford Turner, and you will see another witness who will be there, and then you will hear all about it"—we all three went into the solicitor's office; Mr. Turner was not at home that time—we took a walk, and came back—Mr. Turner came in while we were waiting—Battlebury said, "I have brought same witnesses up"—Mr. Turner said, "Is this the morning case or the night case?"—Battlebury said, "These are the witnesses for the morning case"—we all sat down in the solicitor's room—Mason said, "I am going to have a smoke"—Mr. Turner said, "Yes, as long as you only smoke a cigarette"—then he said, "Well, who shall I commence on?" or words to that effect; he meant to take their evidence—I think Lamplough was the first—Mr. Turner asked Lamplough what he knew about it—he said he was with a party going down Mare Street towards the City—he commenced to make a statement, but did not seem to know how to make it; it was like put to him—the solicitor said, "You were walking down Mare Street on a certain date, and as you approached Mr. Battlebury's you saw his pair-horse van coming out of the gate; you saw the workmen laying down the planks where they had taken the old blocks up?"—he said, "Yes" and "No"—Turner got a young fellow in the office to write it down—then there was a sort of argument about the boards, whether they were broken or whether they gave way—I think it was finally settled that the boards broke, and that one of the wheels went down, and then when the horse struggled to pull the wheels over

these blocks it injured itself—it was driven back to the stable after that—we were all present, and could hear what was said—then Mr. Turner took a statement of each one of us—I am not sure whether Mason or I came next—I heard all the statements taken down—they were taken precisely the same—after the statements had been taken, after Battlebury had spoken to Turner, Lamplough, Mason and I adjourned to a public-house—Battlebury provided the money, and we provided one another with entertainment, drinks, and a smoke, I suppose—that is all—Battlebury gave me half-a-crown, and we paid all round as it were—Lamplough stood one lot, and I stood another—the half-crown did not last very long—I found I was getting a bit short, and I said, "This is not much for a day's work"—Battlebury said, "Here is another eighteen pence for you"—in the solicitor's office he said, "If my claim comes off all right I will see that you are all right"—I had never seen the accident—I never told Lamplough, or either of the Battleburys that I had—I never went again to Turner's office—the next I heard was on a visit from an inquiry officer.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I think I remember all about my evidence in the Police Court—I have not seen anything of Battlebury this year—the matter is not fresh in my memory, because it is further away—I have been receiving money every day—I only received money from the County Council for going to see their solicitor—I shall get my expenses—I am employed in the building trade; not this week, because I have to be here—when I met Lamplough I was out of work—we are never certain; we may be two or three days out and then have two or three days' work—I am generally employed—I have been a postman—I have been employed in the Post Office over twenty years—now I am a painter—I went to South Africa during the war and when I came back I met two or three friends and had rather too much to drink—the Post Office reduced me, and I refused to take the duties they gave me—I was not discharged for drunkenness—I was never drunk on duty—Lamplough asked me what I was doing—I said, "Nothing"—he said, "I can put you on to something"—I would not be certain what the words were—I was out of work—he asked whether I wanted to earn a bit, or something to that effect—I said things were very bad—before I went to Battleburys' he did not explain about the case—I do not remember his saying anything about the accident when he met me—what was taken down before the Magistrate was read over to me before I signed it—I was not going to give false evidence—I was told to go to the solicitor's office to hear what he had to say, and that there would not be any action, and that it would never come to the courts—I never told Fred Battlebury that I had been with Mason when the accident had occurred to the grey mare—I never heard Mason's story before I went to the solicitor's—I saw Fred Battlebury afterwards; I never went to see him with Mason—while I was working in Morning Lane I talked to James Battlebury; he never asked me why I had not come before—I never knew Mason or the Battleburys before this case—I do not remember seeing them in any public-house; I might have done, but I did not know Mason—he might have known me—I never

asked Lamplough for money, only the eighteen pence—in October or November I was passing Battleburys' yard and saw Fred Battlebury there—I never went into the Duke of Clarence with the inquiry officer—I saw the officer by appointment in my dinner hour at the Cricketer's—I did not tell Fred Battlebury that the County Council made a fuss of me, drove me to Spring Gardens and gave me beer—I have been to Spring, Gardens, but not in a cab—I received 3s. 6d. for my day's expenses—from Battlebury I got altogether about 6s. 6d.—I did not get all I could out of him, then all I could out of the County Council—they came to me and told me I had better go and see them—I told Fred Battlebury I had been to the County Council—I said Mason had been up there and given a false statement, and that an officer had been to see me, and I had to go there—he said, "It does not matter, we shall drop the case"—I answered the questions at the Police Court to the best of my ability, but I do not remember all I said—the officer advised me to go and see the County Council, but he did not use the words that if I did not it would be a serious thing for me—he did say, "Take my advice, and go and see the solicitors of the Council"—I did not know how it would turn out; I did not want to get myself into trouble, and I thought it advisable to go—I never told Battlebury I was going—I told him something to the effect that I didn't want to go to the Council, but that the inquiry officer had told me it would be very serious if I did not go—I do not remember saying, "Mason told me that he had gone up to the Council and mad a statement that the accident he was supposed to see he had not seen"; nor, "He said there had been no accident, but told me to say that what I was supposed to see was not true."

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. A statement was written down—I thought it was no statement of mine, and they could not do much with it—I do not think I was responsible when I did not make it—I have never been a milkman—I obliged my brother by taking his round, for a month last April, when he was taken ill and was in the hospital—his business is in Clarence Road—he serves the Hackney Road and the commencement of Mare Street—I went on the pudding round about 11a.m.—that was miles away from Battleburys place—I never told Lamplough I saw the accident when I was on my pudding round; nor that I served customers near Battleburys', not within half a mile—I have known Lamplough about ten years—Mason said on a Sunday night that he had been looking for me—he did not speak about the accident—he said, "Meet the inquiry officer to-morrow"—he told me an inquiry officer had been to see me and left word to telegraph where he could see me the next morning about this affair of Battleburys'—I said, "Come" in the dinner hour and meet me at the Cricketer's at 1 o'clock"—the officer met me—Mason was there—I forget whether he introduced me—the officer said Mason had been to see the County Council solicitors to explain the case, and that he was a false witness; that he had mentioned my name, and that he (the officer) had been advised to come and see me, as I was to be a witness the same as himself—I went to the County Council offices the next day—Mr. Godfrey asked me what I knew about

the case, and I told him—he said Mason told him my name and address and, I believe, that I had gone with Mason to the solicitors—I got 3s. 6d.—that was all the Council would allow each time—I went twice—at Turner's Lamplough gave an account of what was supposed to have happened—he tried to explain the accident to Turner—then Turner read it to his clerk and put it in a different way—they were all speaking together.

Re-examined. I had four good conduct stripes in the Post Office—I went with the Army Post Office Corps to South Africa—when I resumed my duties in England I got too much to drink, but not when I was on duty—I had my stripes taken off and was reduced to duties I was not used to, and instead of leaving at 5.30 or 6 p.m. I left about 10 p.m. at less pay—after that I took to painting and have been at my brother's, in the building trade—that was in 1901—I did not know Mason, nor that he was connected with this claim, till I went to Clifford Turner's office—I have met him once or twice, but he made out he was busy—I did not try to get money out of the Battleburys and then out of the Council—I did not know the Council knew about our evidence till Mason told me—I never told Fred Battlebury nor Lamplough that I had seen the accident—I went my brother's pudding round about the middle of April, but not in March, and it was round Hackney Downs Fred Battlebury and Lamplough went with me to Turner's—Battlebury said, "We want you to come with us to the solicitors; I will make it right," or words to that effect—I was told to go to the solicitors and give a statement, and there would be no action—I said I knew nothing about the accident. [The witness's deposition before the Magistrate was read.]

WALTER SHARP . I live at 49, College Street, Homerton—I have been an auctioneer's porter for the last fifteen years in casual employment at sales—I have known Lamplough ten or twelve years—at one time he was an auctioneer's clerk—that is how I came to know him—I met him at the corner of Mare Street and Graham Street about three months before Christmas—he was talking to Haysman—I had taken work to Haysman's place—Lamplough asked me to go into Battleburys' about a horse falling down outside the gateway—he asked me in Haysman's presence to be a witness—I told him no, I knew nothing about it—I had not told anybody that I had seen a horse fall down—I had not seen one fall down—I walked away—a detective spoke to me about it at the corner of Median Road about three weeks ago, before I went to the Police Court a fortnight ago—I went to the police station and from there to the Court and gave evidence—I had never known the Battleburys.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I had not spoken to Haysman about the accident—Lamplough offered me 5s. to go, and I said I would not go—I did not state that at the Dalston Police Court—I was not asked—it has just come across my mind—I had no money—I would not go, because I knew nothing about the affair—Lamplough employed me to help move a piano and such jobs—he has not complained of me—there was something said about a barrow a man brought two or three years ago.

Re-examined. I have had no quarrel with Lamplough.

JOHN HADDON . I live at 41, Park Road, Leyton, and am a painter,

employed by Dearsley & Co., Chatsworth Road, Clapton—I have known Lamplough about fourteen years-about last November I met Mm in Lee Bridge Road out for a stroll in the evening—we talked about old times and as I was leaving him he asked me if I would do him a favour—I said "What is it?"—he said, "We have got an action coming off against the London County Council for a decent mare falling down a hole in the widening of Mare Street, and I want you to be a witness; if the case comes off all right there will be a fiver for your trouble," and that I was to meet him the next morning at 11 o'clock at a public-house—where it was has slipped my memory—I did not say anything—I did not think any more about it—I did not tell him I had seen any accident.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I did not mention this to anyone unless it was to my friends, I cannot say who—Oxley spoke to me about it—I spoke about it round my neighbourhood once or twice—I told Seers a plumber of Clapton, who knows Mason—Seers is my friend—I have known him about as long as Lamplough—Mason, Seers and I belong to the same football club—Oxley asked me to be a witness; not in a public-house.

Re-examined. I have always been on good terms with Lamplough—I am a teetotaller.

CHARLES WILTSHIRE . I live at 18, Aspland Grove, Hackney, and am an attendant at the Hackney Empire Theatre of Varieties—I have known Lamplough for five or six months—about three months before Christmas I was at the Railway Tavern, Mare Street, Hackney, between 12 and 1 in the day, when Lamplough came in—he said, "How are you getting on?"—we shook hands, and he said, "Are you doing anything yet?"—I said, "No not yet"—he said, did I recollect the widening of Mare Street?—I said "Yes quite well"—as a fact, part of it was opposite the Empire—I said I was on the trams—I meant I had been a conductor—he said he had a friend who had an accident with a horse, and, "You know where the hole was?"—I said, "What hole?"—he said, "You know—I said, Oh yes"—I thought he was joking, but he became more serious, and I found he was speaking in earnest, so I said, "I don't know nothing about no hole and I know nothing about no accident"—I formed my own conclusion—I saw what he was aiming at, and I never had any more to say about it—I went home and would have nothing more to do with it—I drank up a refresher and I left, but a police inspector came to me, and I went to the Police Court and gave a statement.

GEORGE GRAY . I am a foreman in the Works Department of the London County Council, and have been for twelve years—before that I was foreman to Mowlem & Co. for fifteen years, and before that for nine years with Messrs. Lucas & Aird—I have had thirty-five years experience as a foreman of works—I was foreman in charge of the works on behalf of the London County Council in the Mare Street improvements—on March 8th, 1904 we had reached the neighbourhood of Battleburys' premises—we were working just by the side of it—a portion of the old wood paving was being taken up by my direction, about fourteen feet from their premises, on the west side of the road, but south of their premises, on the Town Hall side, the same side

as battleburys—the space created by the removal of the paving formed an area of about twelve feet wide on March 8th, and extended from the kerb to the western rail of the new tramway track—on March 8th James Battlebury came to me, and said that he wanted to come out of the yard with two vans—I said I would have some planks laid down so that he could do so safely—I had the planks laid long enough, and across the hole for the wheel to go down gradually a space of four and a half inches—I had sand put underneath and on the top, and some on the other side, where the blocks had come out, the roadway under the blocks being perfectly hard and smooth but four and a half inches was the whole depth, and I covered the whole with sand at the edges so that there would be no jerk—I put the planks with sand under them, and sand over them—James Battlebury was there when the vans came over—we did not put quite enough sand to please him, and I at once put more—when the work was finished I told him it was ready—I said to him, "If you have any objection to your horses going over those planks, if you like to take the horses from the vans I will have them pulled over by manual labour"—he said he should not do it—he gave the drivers orders, and they came out with the vans—Mr. Johns, the clerk of the works, and some workmen were present—James Battlebury was by the side where the planks were laid down—I watched the horses and vans go over the planks very carefully—they went over quite safely and very steadily—I saw no planks give way, and no accident occurred of any kind—as soon as the horses and vans had passed over I said to James Battlebury, "There you are, sir"—he said, "That is all right"—I said, "Have you any more coming?" he said, "No, these vans are going on a long journey; they won't be back till to-morrow night"—this was about 10.30 to 11 a.m.—when the vans had gone over I bad the planks removed, and went on with the work—no others passed over that morning—I only watched the two pair-horse vans till they got clear of our work and were perfectly safe—they did not come back again—no complaint was made to me—I was on the works from about 6 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day during the progress of the works—I saw James Battlebury nearly every day frequently, sometimes two or three times a day, in and out of his gate during the next ten days—he made no complaint of any accident—neither did Fred Battlebury, nor anyone on his behalf—I do not think I saw Fred Battlebury so often as I saw old James-Fred was ill and walking with two sticks—I did not know Lamplough till I saw him at the Police Court—I had no report from any of my men of any accident—I had about thirty men employed near their premises—the names of the men who put down the planks are Oliver, Newland, and Battie—from 5 p.m. on March 8th, till 6 a.m. on March 9th we had two watchmen on duty, Lambert and Roberts—those men had been engaged there for several weeks—it was the duty of the watchmen to report to me in the morning at 6.30—every morning I saw them and I said "Things all right?" and they said, "Yes"—from March 8th for the next ten days they reported no accident—the blocks were continued to b removed—before I left in the evening the fence poles were put up on trestles in the usual way, and everything was put ready for the watchman to hang the lamps on when it got dark, and a fence pole was put up on the

two sides, to make a roadway to come in sufficient for the horses and vans to turn into Battlebury's gate, and we put down planks so that their vans would be able to return into their gateway over the four and a half inches where the blocks had been taken up on the 8th—planks were put on both sides, both right and left, for vans to go over, and fencing poles were arranged when I went away at 5 o'clock—both watchmen had arrived then—the following morning, at 6.30 a.m., I found everything was all right, the poles and trestles being precisely as I had left them at 5 p.m.—nothing had been disturbed—we put down the planks before nine o'clock when the vans as a rule come out [The witness explained to the jury by a large model produced how the work was carried on]—almost opposite Battleburys' gate-way is an electric light, and there is another further to the left, and another one on the right—I first heard that there had been an accident about March 16th from one of the Council's officers—on receiving that information I went to find Battlebury—after calling twice I saw him—I passed the time of day, then I said, "I have had a letter from the manager, saying that you have had an accident, I am surprised, as you stood with me when the vans went over, and there was no accident then"—he said, "I cannot say anything about it myself; it is in my son's hands; there is a horse now in the stable lame, the carmen take the horses out in the morning, and bring them home at night, lame"—he gave me no details—there was no hole apart from what I have described near Battleburys' premises nor any manhole upon that section at all—an area of fifteen to nineteen feet would be included in the fencing of the poles—on trestles—a horse could not have passed the manhole on the 9th without disturbing the poles and trestles—I was not shown any broken planks among those which were put down on the 8th and 9th.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. This was a big job; it took about six months—I had thirty to forty-five men under me, but the average was about thirty—a couple of old wood blocks were taken up from the gateway, and replaced by granite sets some days after the rest of the road was done—the planks were ordinary three inches by nine inches deals and about twelve feet long—I have not mistaken the days, I knew what was going on each day—the planks were down ten or fifteen minutes—James Battlebury was by my side—I stood there the whole time—I swear the off-side horse did not stumble—if he had I must have seen him—I saw no horse led back—the County Council solicitor wrote asking for an inspection of the horses—the ventilator or iron grating was originally flush in with the road, but the wood blocks having been taken up it was four and a half inches above the road, and with the further excavation fifteen inches, but there were fence poles to protect it, and these were not removed.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. James Battlebury did not say he did not like the look of the planks, and that it would be at my risk if they went over, but that he must go back to look after the boiling.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I never knew Lamplough before I saw him at the Police Court—I first heard of the accident about ten days after March 8th.

Re-examined. I took the planks up immediately after the horses and the two vans had passed over—if the horse had been brought back half an hour afterwards it would have had to go over the same place without having the advantage of the planks.

F. A. MASON (Further cross-examined by MR. JENKINS). I spoke to Havysman on the Friday night previous to the first Saturday the case was opened at the Court—I went with the County Council officer to find Horn—I did not know Sharp or Haysman—I first saw Haddon on the Monday the case came up—I have a friend named Seers—Lamplough first spoke to me after I came back to Hackney in July, but the first time I had a conversation with him about the accident was in the Clarence Road in the beginning of October.

New Court, Saturday, March 11th, 1905.

THOMAS BENJAMIN JOHN . I am in the Engineering Department of the London County Council—I acted as clerk of the works in the Mare Street improvements—in that capacity it was necessary for me to be present every day and I was so present—on March 8th I was in the neighbourhood of Battlebury's premises when the men started taking up the old wooden blocks close to their gateway—about 10 a.m. the blocks about 20 feet from their premises had all been removed—the men started immediately after breakfast that morning and in an hour a space of about 8 feet had keen removed—Gray, our foreman, was there—about 10.30 a.m. I saw James Battlebury there—he told me that he wanted to take his vans over the space of road that we had pulled up—I told Gray to do what was necessary to get the vans safely over, and Battlebury told me that he had seen Gray, who was going to put down planks, but that they would not be good enough for him, as his vans contained glass bottles—I consulted Gray, who said his men were putting down planks on the slope—I saw the men putting them down—the planks were packed up with sand underneath and on the top, so as to prevent any jerk—James Battlebury saw that done before any horses or vans came out—when the vans were drawn up along the footpath immediately before coming to the holes, Gray offered to take the horses out and take the vans over by hand labour, but James Battlebury would not have it—I was about a yard off when the vans passed over safely—I did not notice any horse stumble, nor any shifting or breaking of the planks, nor anything that called for the slightest complaint—I believe James Battlebury was behind me at the time, but I would not be certain—nothing was said to me about it—Fred Battlebury came out several times during the talk about getting the vans over—I believe he walked with a stick—he made no complaint to me, nor to any of our men—I stopped there till the horses had got quite clear—they trotted away, apparently as if nothing had happened, after the horses and vans had gone the planks were taken up almost immediately and the work proceeded with—I was on the work most of that day—I saw no horse brought back—from day to day I saw both the Battleburys going in and out of their premises—I occasionally said, "Good-morning" to thorn—they have never made any complaint to me—on the 9th the blocks had been opened up on the right and left of the gateway—

that part was surrounded by trestles on the evening of the 9th—when I left the lamps were ready to be lighted—the next morning I came at 10.30—there was nothing unusual then to attract my attention—I keep a diary, in which I enter anything that may affect me—on March 16th I had an interview with both the Battleburys as to a spur against their gateway to prevent the wheels of vans blocking against the door as they enter, and I have made a note of it under date March 16th—during that interview nothing was mentioned about any accident—on March 8th my note is "Started taking up old blocks twenty feet south of Battleburys'"—I have no entry on the 9th with reference to this matter—I never noticed any broken planks on the works—all I saw were in good condition.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. Any complaints that concern me the council communicate to me at once—I never heard anything of Battlebury's accident for some time—on the 8th the vans were outside the gateway before the planks were put down—I cannot say the horse may not have stepped short, but I can swear the work was all square—I stopped after the vans had gone over—my object was to preserve the glass bottles in the vans—I never dreamed about the horses being injured—I am not sure whether Fred Battlebury was there.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I watched the vans go over the boards—my attention was not called to the accident till a long time afterwards.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I never saw Lamplough, to my knowledge—he might have been at the accident—I did not notice him.

WILLIAM LAMBERT . I am a watchman employed in the Works Department of the London County Council—on March 8th and 9th I was employed in the Mare Street widening—I was on duty from 4.30 p.m. on the 8th till 6.30 a.m. on the 9th—my lamps were lighted, and hanging on the trestles and extra ones at each corner, and near the foot-way—when Gray arrived, at 6.30 a.m. on the 9th, he said, "Any complaints'?" and I said, "No, nothing whatever"—on March 9th I came on duty at 4.30 p.m., and remained till 6.30 p.m. on the 10th—the lamps were alight, and on the trestles—there was no accident—I noticed no disturbance of the trestles—I made my usual report to Gray and the timekeeper when they arrived in the morning—between 9 and 10 p.m. on March 9th I remember a horse and van going into Battlebury's yard all right—I spoke to the carman—it was the last one in, and I put the poles across to prevent anything else coming—no horse could go near the ventilating grating without the poles being removed—they were not removed, and no one had been there—no complaint was made to me.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I started on this job about Christmas twelvemonth, and, stayed till about June—I was on duty every night except Monday nights—the lamps were as right as the day is long—I sit in a little refuge, or walk about—I get the day to rest in—I was first asked about this about nine days afterwards—I went to Spring Gardens about April 7th—no accident could have happened, except when the trams jumped the rails near Morning Lane—there was no trouble with our poles all the time I was watching—it was a one-horse van that came in on the evening of the 9th—when I was asked I said that a one-horse van had gone in safely on the evening of the 9th between 9 end 10 p.m.—it did not get

near the ventilator—that was right outside the kerbstone—it was a small van, but as to the horse I cannot say—I answered the questions asked me.

FREDERICK ROBERTS . I am a watchman in the Works Department of the London County Council—I live at 3, the Churchyard, Mare Street, Hackney—I was employed with the last witness on the Mare Street widening on the 8th and 9th March as watchman—I went on duty about 5 p.m., and remained till about 6.30 a.m.—I heard of no accident—the lamps were lighted, one on the trestles at each corner—there was also a strong electric light opposite the gateway—on going off duty at 6.0 on the 9th I made my ordinary report to Gray that all was right, and I left—I came back about the same time the next evening, and remained till 6.30 on the morning of the 10th—there was no accident—the lamps were hung in the same way, and there was the electric light—no report was made to me of any accident—Gray came every morning about 6.30—I met him, and made my usual report that everything was all right—during the whole time that I was watching on the nights of March 9th and 10th no complaint was made to me by Battlebury, or his son, or by anyone on his behalf and the trestles were not disturbed—the ventilator was not near the gateway, and that was protected by the poles, which were not disturbed.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I talked this matter over with the other watchman—we said it was all right—the condition of the poles was exactly the same on April 17th and 23rd—there was nothing wrong with them.

JOHN THROWER (532 J.) I was on point duty in Mare Street from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. on March 8th and from 5 to 9 p.m. on March 9th, 1904, about 50 yards from the trams and on the north side, near the Town Hall—I had to pass Battleburys' premises—I saw no accident to any of their carts or horses—I received no complaint of any accident having happened to any property of theirs—an electric light is opposite their gateway—is was burning properly—I saw the watchmen were on the works and the lamps were all alight, because if one had gone out I should have immediately told a watchman.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I have not known of any of the poles being taken away—the trestles and poles went to about the corner of Morning Lane, about a 100 yards from my fixed point—Battleburys' premises are about 30 or 40 yards from Morning Lane—I expect if a horse had stumbled my attention would have been called to it.

DENNIS TWOLIG (272 J.) I was on fixed point duty in Mare Street between 9 p.m. on March 9th and 1 a.m. on, March 10th, 1904, walking for about a range of 50 to 80 yards—I witnessed no accident to any horse and van—no report was made to me of any such accident during the four hours that I was on duty.

WILLIAM MACDONALD (M.R.C.V.S.) I live at 3, Story Lane, Tooley Street—I have been in practice over twenty-one years, and have had considerable experience of horses—on April 5th, 1904, I went to Battleburys' premises to examine two horses which were alleged to have

sustained injury in an accident—I first saw Fred Battlebury; he pointed out two horses to me in the stable—one was a grey mare—I spoke to James Battlebury, but do not recollect the conversation—I asked to have the horses brought out, when I examined them—they were walked up and down—I found no traces of recent injury—If the grey mare had been injured on the 8th I should have expected to find some trace of it—she was lame in the hind leg from spavin of old standing—the hock was quite hard and callous—there was no heat in it—I should say the lameness was caused some time previously—there was nothing but spavin to account for it—she was very aged, and not grey, but white—apart from any accident, I should value her at £12 or £13, taking her as sound and before she had met with the accident—I also carefully examined the bay mare and had her walked out and trotted up and down—she was lame in the near hind leg, the other was lame in the off hind leg—spavin was the cause—it was of long standing; there was nothing else to account for the lameness—she was an aged mare too, but not so old as the white mare—supposing she was sound, I put £16 value upon her—I made a report to the London County Council—as the spavin had existed for some time, these mares could not have been sound at the time of the alleged accident, in my opinion.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I was told to go and examine a couple of horses that had met with an accident—I did not assume anything—the objective symptom of bone spavin generally is an enlargement in the hock from a bony deposit, or an abnormal deposit of bone—it causes a stiffness, especially when the horse is first brought out of the stable—with the spavin the horses would be worth about half the value I put upon them as sound, say about £15 the two—a horse is always worth more money for commercial purposes—a horse putting his foot in a hole four and a half inches deep might sprain the muscles of his back.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I examine the London County Council tramway horses—before examining these horses I did not communicate with the prisoners, nor ask them to bring a veterinary surgeon to meet me—I do not do so personally; I cannot speak for other people—another gentleman would not have changed my opinion—I was examining the horses about a quarter of an hour—I did not take a note of the time—I was there more than five minutes—I was there long enough to examine them—I cannot say, but I expect I put questions.

Re-examined. James Battlebury was present when I was conducting the examination—he represented the firm—I had the horses run up and down in front of me—I made a thorough examination—if an accident had happened there would have been a sprain—the objective symptoms I saw were not consistent with sprain—the horses could do slow, steady work; spavin does not affect a horse much except at the start—you can not only feel spavin outside the horse's hock, but you can see it.

CHARLES JOSEPH LOGSDEN . I am principal assistant in the Solicitors' Department of the London County Council—I had the conduct of the civil action against them of Frederick Charles Battlebury claiming

£91 13s. for damage to horses and Tans on March 8th and 9th, 1904—I produce the correspondence with Mr. Clifford Turner and the Council (Twenty-four letters were put in and the material parts read, dated between March 9th, 1904, stating there had been an accident, and October 24th, 1904, the latter notifying the discontinuance of the action. The Statement of Claim and particulars were also put in and read)—our taxed costs were paid by Mr. Clifford Turner by cheque.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I am principal clerk, but I am not a solicitor—people frequently claim more than they recover; I cannot say always.

Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I took Mason's statement—I was the first on behalf of the Council to see him—I questioned him as to what he knew about the accident—his statement was taken down in longhand.

GEORGE WALLACE (Inspector J.) On January 7th I received a warrant from the North London Police Court for the arrest of the three prisoners—on the 9th I went about noon to 313a, Mare Street, accompanied by Sergeant Oxley—I told both the Battleburys that we were police officers and I said, "I hold a warrant for your arrest, charging you with attempting to obtain £91 13s. from the London County Council in March last. On that charge I shall take you to the Hackney police station, where you will be detained"—they made no reply—about two hours later I saw Lamplough outside Battleburys' gate—I said, "Is your name Frederick Lamplough?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer, and hold a warrant for your arrest, charging you with being concerned with the two Battleburys in attempting to obtain money by false pretences for the London County Council"—I took him to Hackney police station, where he was charged with the other two prisoners—they made no reply—on searching Fred Battlebury I found these four letters and this Bill of Costs from Clifford Turner & Co.—I think he had taken them out of the safe in my presence and put them in his pocket when we were in his office—I also saw this account book in his office—it was afterwards produced at the Police Court—I had taken extracts from it before then—we noticed several pages had been torn out and I pointed that out to Fred Battlebury, and asked him whether he could account for it—he said, "Yes, these books are not much good; they are what we buy as lumber, and when we want a bit of writing paper we tear the leaf out of a book the tint to our hand"—I then pointed out to him that a portion of the leaf was left in the book, and that it had some writing on it, and I asked him whether he could account for it—he said he could not—James Battlebury was then in a little office, he could hear—there axe three leaves torn out between pages 569 and 570, also another one further on—a greater part of page 235 is gone—he said he could not account for it—it does not appear to have been used for accounts since 1893—I find accounts have been kept up to January 27th 1893—the word "Accidents" is on the cover—I find there is an entry, dated December 31st, 1904, and one on November 29th, 1901—there are notes of accidents in the book and on the sheets—the three sheets

produced have come out of the book—they were produced by Mr. Young at the Police Court when Haysman was in the box—I cannot say whether these leaves had been taken out when I saw the book and took notes of entries in it—I saw that leaves had been torn out, bat I did not take a note of the numbers—my statement had been taken at the time these three pages were missing.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. The examination took place some days after the prisoners were taken into custody—we saw the book when the prisoners were there—they were on bail—Fred Battlebury might have said "I do not understand; I understood the matter was all settled," but I have no recollection of it—he did not say it at the time I read the warrant to him—he went to the file and produced, I think, the bill of costs and the four letters I produced—he put them in his pocket—I think he owns about eleven horses, three or four small vans, and two or three traps—he has been carrying on a legitimate and respectable business for the last five years.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I do not know the writing—it is all in the game hand.

FREDERICK OXLEY (Detective-Sergeant). I went with Wallace to Battleburys' premises when Wallace explained our business and read the warrant to the two Battleburys—they said nothing—they were taken to the police station—two hours later Lamplough was arrested outside the same premises and was taken to the police-station—the prisoners were charged—neither of them said anything—I was present when the till of costs and letters were found on Fred Battlebury, also when this book was examined in the presence of both the Battleburys and when Wallace said something about the book—Fred Battlebury said something about writing paper—I saw a press spy book, and said, "There are no pages missing there, and I should advise you to let them remain there"—that was following up the conversation about the other book—I was present in Court when that book was produced by Mr. Young and when he produced the two missing pages that are pasted together.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. I do not remember hearing Fred Battlebury say that he thought the matter was settled, but he produced the bill of costs—he put the papers in his pocket.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Fred Battlebury said he was, the owner of the business—I believe that is so.

WILLIAM WAIT . I am assistant manager of the London County Council Works Department—I was in charge of the works in Mare Street from January 24th—the model in Court was planned by me as soon as I heard of the accident on March 8th and 9th and completed about March 18th from a sketch I made on paper—I also produce that sketch and the plans—I visited the works every day—of course I had to make enquiries as to the exact state of affairs from the general foreman—the two plans produced were made by my orders—I Went to the works every day while the job was on—I did not see the boards put down—when I was there on the 9th the men were taking the blocks up in the locality of the gateway—on the 8th they were working in the neighbourhood where the blocks had already

been taken out, on the right hand side as you go out of Battlebury's—the air vent or grating is about 4 feet from the old kerb, and close to the new one—the model is made to the scale of 1/2 an inch to a foot—the grating is about nineteen feet from Battleburys'—when the claim was first brought to my notice I spoke to the foreman, and went to see the Battleburys on the 16th—I had a letter from the manager and went with Gray to see Battlebury, but he was not there—failing to see him I left instructions with Gray to go and see him later in the day, and when I went the next day Gray had seen him—I have not at any time heard any complaint from anybody with regard to an accident.

Cross-examined by MR. MARSHALL HALL. Complaints have been made to me in some cases—a complaint would be made to the men on the ground—I saw the footway on the 18th—I do not say the blocks were taken up on the 9th.

JOHN WILLIAM CHARLES . I am an architect and surveyor in the drawing office of the Works Department of the London County Council—I made the two plans produced from instructions and information given to me—I also made the model in Court from the same instructions—it is to scale and it and the plans correctly represent the instructions given to me.

New Court, Monday, March 13th, 1905.

Frederick Battlebury, in his defence on oath, said he engaged Lamplough because he found he was a successful traveller; that he was about to advertise for persons who had witnessed the accident on March 8th or 9th; that Lamplough had said he was well known in Hackney, and that he accepted his offer to make inquiries, but that he had been bothered for money by Mason, and doubted him; that Haysman never called on him about the accident, but only about a grandfather's clock he had for sale, and as he found the evidence was not sufficient he abandoned the action, paying the costs and thought the matter was ended, but there was no conspiracy to defraud or to suborn evidence.

Evidence for Frederick Battlebury.

HARRY CLIFFORD TURNER . I am a solicitor, practising at 68, Finsbury Pavement under the name of Clifford Turner & Co. with my partner, Mr. Sydney Slater—I had practised on my own account five years—I attend to the litigation—my partner attends to the books and conveyancing—the business is fairly large—I have nine clerks—I knew Frederick Charles Battlebury as a respectable wholesale confectioner in a large way of business—I have acted for him in the conveyance of freehold property and so forth—I knew him as a man of substance—I knew that he had a number of horses and vans running about the London streets—there are frequent entries in my call book of his name—he called on March the 9th—my partner, Mr. Slater, saw him—he is a gentleman about thirty-four years of age, and my junior in age—Mr. Clements assists me as managing clerk—upon Frederick Battlebury's instructions I wrote the letter of March 9th to the County Council about the accident—I saw him on the 23rd, when he gave me particulars of both accidents of March 8th and 9th—I have not the slightest reason to doubt his statements—he said he was in bad health—in fact he was very bad and could scarcely get about—the reason the second accident was not mentioned till March 30th was that

he saw Mr. Slater on the 9th And gave him an account of the accident of the 8th—on the 23rd he saw me, when I took down the particulars of both accidents fully—at that time I was under the impression that Mr. slater had taken particulars of both accidents, therefore I did not write a letter in regard to the second accident till I noticed that the previous, letter had not mentioned it, and then I wrote calling the attention of the Council to the matter—in pursuance of my notice I issued a writ and instructed counsel to draw a statement of claim for tort in the usual course, making the claim a little on the safe side—on May 24th, 1904, I wrote to Battlebury asking for an appointment with his witnesses—I had no reply, but subsequently I had a telephonic message and I saw him on June 29th and 30th when we went through the business—on October 5th I got a letter stating that he would call on the 7th—if Mason says ho called on the 5th it is untrue—Mason came on the 7th—on that day Battlebury, Lamplough, and Horn came in first, and afterwards Mason—I do not remember anything about his smoking a cigarette, but I should not have allowed it—Lamplough had commenced the account of the accident when Mason came in—the statements of the witnesses were taken in each other's presence, and I have never heard that that is a wrong thing—I do not know the practice in criminal work, but I have taken down statements of witnesses together plenty of times, and I have never heard that it was wrong—first Battlebury came in with Lamplough and Horn—Lamplough was on the right and Horn on the left—Battlebury was a little more forward—I said, "Who are these men?"—he said, "These are the witnesses"—I then took Lamplough's statement in the usual way, asking him first "Your name?"—he said, "Lamplough"—then after getting his Christian name I said, "What do you know about this accident?"—he gave me an account of it, and I put a few questions to him, and then called in my shorthand clerk and I was actually dictating the statement to the clerk when Mason came in—he was exceedingly talkative and I asked him to be seated, but he kept interfering and repeatedly stopped me, interrupting about the boards, whether they were lengthways or crossways—Lamplough said they were lengthways—then Mason said "That is right"—I said, "Do be quiet; I cannot speak to everybody at once"—eventually, when I had finished with Lamplough, Horn came—he was not an intelligent witness and I could not understand where he was standing when he saw the accident, and we got at loggerheads a little because he said that he was walking north and was on the right-hand side of the pavement when I said, "You could not be; you must have been on the other side," and I drew a rough sketch and got the particulars for the proof into form, which was the proper thing to do—after that Mason's proof was taken exactly in the same way—he seemed to know more about it than anybody—it is not true, as he states, that I told him to "Shut up" and stopped him—I never made such a remark to a man—all I did was to say, "Wait till your turn comes," and when his turn came he had an opportunity of saying anything he desired—I asked each witness to give his name and address—I was furnished with a transcript of the statements for the three proofs—I do not lose much time—their then left the room—

in a few minutes Battlebury came back and spoke about Mason's fee—I said I should subpoena him in proper course—the statements were not then signed—they were not drawn up till a few days afterwards, as I was very busy—I did not give Mason any money—he asked me for it once or twice—on the 11th I think he called when I was out and saw my clerk—on the 13th I was asked by Mason for money—I was told that he had called and desired to see me—I went to the door and said, "What is this about?" as I did not then remember the case—he said, "Mr. Battlebury sent me"—I said, "You came to see me before; what do you want?"—he said, "Look here, this is all very well; you are making a nice shuttlecock of me. I first come to you and you or your clerks send me to Battlebury for money and he tells me to come here"—I said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "All I have got is half-a-crown; you are not very generous, but never mind, I am not coming to you any more. Do you mean to say you are not going to give me any more money?"—I said, "What on earth do you mean? certainly not; what for?"—he said, "I want my subpoena and fee. I may not be found to give evidence. I shall move and you won't be able to find me; I am going to Streatham"—I tried to lead him on—he said, "I have asked for my subpoena and you will not give it me," and to make an end to the argument he said, "Very well, all right," and went away—I formed a very strong opinion about him—I did not like him from the first time I saw him—between that date and the 24th certain information and rumours made me distrust him still more, in consequence of which I wrote for Battlebury to come and see me—I told Battlebury I had found out about Mason's previous convictions and he said he had heard rumours about the man's character—I advised him that the evidence was not good enough for an action for £90, and that he might lose over £200 over it, and I advised him not to go on with it—I said that I did not care about the case—the result was that he gave me instructions to withdraw the action—he paid our costs and those of the County Council—it is not true that I ever worked on commission—I have never done so in my life, except that it is the usual practice in debt collecting to charge 5 per cent.—Horn was a bit stupid and occasionally appeared to have had too much, to drink and I was suspicious of him—the was not drunk—Mason we could not possibly have relied upon—so that we had only Lamplough and the carmen to give evidence; besides, there was an under current at work, in my opinion, against us; therefore I advised Battlebury to abandon the action—on October 31st Battlebury called upon me with Mason—I declined to see Mason—I asked Battlebury why Mason wanted to see me—he said two private detectives had been to Mason and that Mason had tried to frighten him by saving that h had been to the Council—I advised Battlebury what to do and said, "let him go to the Council or do anything he likes," but I would not see him—I have conducted nine actions for Battlebury in five years connected with their running vans, which are the most dangerous vehicles out compared with walking vans—we have not previously made any claim against the County Council—from first to last I had no suspicion of the evidence till Battlebury told me what he did.

Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I do not think James Battlebury has anything to do with the outside work: I think he manages the inside work of sweet making.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKENS. I took the statements of Lamplough, Bull, and Vernon—I think I took Bull's statement on October 12th—my clerk would make the entry as to Vernon—I have not got it here—I asked questions when I took the statements whenever I wanted an explanation so that there should be no mistake—the cases where we have beaten you, Mr. Dickens, were in the action against the Acton Urban District Council and another about a horse warranty in the case of Atkins—I do not see any objection when a solicitor has half a dozen witnesses round him, in taking their statements in each other's presence—it often happens—Mason's statement that he gave his address to Battlebury at the time would have been very important if true—I did not suspect him at that time and I said, "Did you give Mr. Battlebury your name and address?" and he said, "Yes"; therefore I concluded it was at the time as it appears in the statement—my idea was that Mason had been to Battlebury to get money and that he had also gone to the other side—I had never heard of Lamplough's name before this case—I did not know that he had been looking about for witnesses—I think advertising for witnesses very stupid, but it is sometimes resorted to.

New Court, Tuesday, March 14th, 1905.

James Battlebury, in his defence on oath, said he was employed as his son's manager in the manufacture of sweets, but though he saw the accident on March 8th and that horses were brought in lame, he had nothing to do with the preparation of evidence, and was no party to any attempt to defraud the London County Council or the subornation of witnesses.

Lamplough, in his defence on oath, said he had seen the accident and told Battlebury that he had; that he made honest inquiries to obtain evidence, but there was ill-feeling against him; and that he did not try to obtain evidence which he knew to be false.

Further evidence for Frederick Battlebury.

EDWARD JAMES FOWLER (M.R.C.V.S.) I live at 126, Dalston Lane, and I have been in practice as a veterinary surgeon since March, 1890—for some years I have attended to Battlebury's horses—on March 8th, 1904, I went to his stables in the evening and saw a grey mare—she was very lame in the hip—I had it fomented and some liniment rubbed in—I found no spavin in the hock—I gave instructions for the shoe to be taken off—I formed the opinion that an accident had caused the injury—I communicated the result of my examination to Fred Battlebury—I told him to keep on fomenting and to use liniment for a couple of days—on the 10th I saw the bay mare, and ordered liniment and robbing—about a month afterwards Battlebury came to me and said, "These horses do not appear to be doing much good," and I went and looked at them, and had them driven out, and thoroughly examined them—they were both still very lame—I told Battlebury that I did not think the grey mare would be of any use;

the other might be, but it would be a long time—another gentleman was called in and in consequence of our advice the horses were put up at Barbican for sale without reserve—in my opinion it was a reasonable thing for Battlebury to dispose of those horses at the time he did—the brown mare was lame by the near hind fetlock—the bay mare was seven or eight years old and the grey nine or ten—it is quite a mistake to say they were older—the grey mare could not have been twenty years old—they would not fetch more than 30s. each if they were—I will swear I did not see any spavin—if it had been there I would have seen it—if she had had spavin the bay would not have fetched £16 as she did, but about 30s. for dogs' meat—they were worth £30 if they were true in harness—the omnibus companies pay £35 to £37 each for their horses, but they buy in a large quantity, and a private purchaser would have to pay £40 or more for the same horse—I should say the lameness was not of old standing.

Cross-examined. I may have seen these horses working in the vans, but I never attended them before—I was told there had been an accident going out of the yard—no details were given to me—I was not asked to meet Mr. Macdonald—I am a professional veterinary surgeon and I have attended horses for Battlebury for ten years—I have given evidence in two cases for him, one three or four years ago, or a little more, in a County Court action.

Re-examined. There was no sign of lameness in either horse from spavin,

CHARLES UTTING . I am a farrier in Battlebury's employment, and live at 3, Pembroke Terrace, Lamb Lane, Hackney—I have been there for the last fifteen months attending to Battlebury's horses—I have shod the grey mare—I did not notice any lameness in her—after March 8th I was instructed to remove the shoe and I did so—I cannot say when I heard of the accident—the grey mare was so lame when I removed the shoe that I had very great trouble in getting the shoe off—I also saw the brown mare a day or two afterwards—she was also lame—she had not been lame before to my knowledge—I took both shoes off.

Cross-examined. I was first spoken to about giving evidence here about a month or five weeks ago—Fred Battlebury came and asked me if I remembered removing the shoe from the brown mare—I was not asked to be a witness in the High Court action.

ALBERT EDWARD OCHILTREE . I live at 179, Lamb Lane, Mare Street, Hackney, and am a farrier—I have shod Battlebury's horses, amongst others, for two or three years,—at his request I had to shoe the grey mare—when I saw her about March 8th she was lame—I was not present when Utting took her shoes off—I am sure I saw her about that time and that she was lame—she was never lame before—I shod the brown mare about the same time.

Cross-examined. I was first spoken to about giving evidence about a week or a fortnight ago, but the accident would be about a twelve month ago, and I cannot remember dates—I was not asked to give evidence in the High Court action.

Re-examined. Battleburyhad five or six horses—I have known the

grey mare ever since I have been shoeing her, between two and three years, and the brown mare about as long.

ALBERT BULL . I have been a carman in the employment of Battleburys since they started business—I was about two years away in South Africa, as I am a reserve man, after which I came back to work for them—on March 8th I took out a pair-horse van to go to Gravesend—as I could not go straight out, I had to turn to the right—after going twenty or thirty paces I found that from ten to twelve feet square of blocks had been taken out, and to get over that the foreman of the works was sent for, who had some planks put down—I did not notice any sand—three or four men were employed to put down the planks, when I drove on—the grey horse and the bay trod upon the planks, which seemed to buckle under—the grey stumbled, but struggled up again—I drove on towards Morning Lane—I noticed the mare was lame, when I pulled up on the other side of the road, after I had driven her a little time—she never went lame before—when I found that she was lame I got down and had a look at her—she seemed to have got lame in the hind legs—I tried to drive her on a little further, but in about five or ten minutes I had to stop again, and then I took he home and got out another horse, and resumed my journey—I was away two days—when I came back I saw her in the stable—she was lame—I know that the governor sold her, or got rid of her in April—we came back the same day as we went out.

Cross-examined. When I took the horse and van over I saw the working staff, and a stout old man who might have been Mr. Gray—I did not hear what he said; I was sitting up in the van—James Battlebury was standing near—I could not see everybody that was there, because I was looking after my horses—the bay horse scrambled over the planks, but the grey went down and got up again—it might have been after 11 when we started out—I might have been away about ten minutes after reaching Morning Lane before I came back, and by the time occupied in looking round I daresay it was past 12 when I returned—I did not see any of the men about—it did not take me long to change the horse—I did not speak to Mr. Gray about it—it must have been the planks that lamed the horse—I cannot tell you what was the matter with the planks—Battlebury did not get from me that they were not sufficiently strong for the purpose for which they were used—I had waited about fifteen or twenty minutes before I drove the horses over the planks.

Re-examined. The mare was lame when I brought her back—I have no doubt about that—I told Battlebury that going over the planks must have caused the lameness—he has known me twenty years or more.

EDWARD CHARLES HEASMAN . I remember sometime in January, 1903 seeing an accident to a pony and trap in Edgware Road—I gave my name and address as Charles Heasman, 27, Hill Street, St. George's Road, S.E.—that is where I am living now.

Cross-examined. My landlord's name is Sydney Burnet—he is no relation of Battleburys' carman that I know—I have resided with him two years—I do not know Battleburys' carman.

Re-examined. I know Vernon.

New Court, Wednesday, March 15th, 1905.

RICHARD HENRY VERNON . I am a carter, and have been employed by Battlebury for three years—I was not here yesterday, as I was told I should not be wanted then—on March 9th I had two accidents with a van—the first was when I was coming home from Edgware; a man tried to pass me on the off side—it was about 1 o'clock—as he passed me he caught my off-side horse just below the shoulder with the box of his wheel—the horse ran a bit lame, and I had to go home a bit steady with him, but it worked off, not exactly on the way home, but it did about two days afterwards—I told Fred Battlebury bout it—I got home about 4 o'clock—I went out about 5 p.m. with one of the same horses, but not the lame one—I took the brown mare, and brought her back about 8.30 or 9—I came in upon the eastern aide of the road—I lifted the pole down—there was no pole here (indicating the model)—there were two planks put down to break the rise—as I came along here my horse stumbled over the manhole, or sewer ventilator—I reported that to Battlebury the next day—that was the same brown mare which was seen by the veterinary, and was afterwards sold—I went that same way in and out for about a week or ten days after that, and afterwards a road was made for us.

Cross-examined by MR. ELLIOTT. I am still in Battleburys' employment—I was in their employment in November, 1902—I do not remember having an accident and running into a brougham in November, 1902—I think it was in Marylebone Road—I remember an accident on July 17th, 1903, in connection with some people called Hyman—I was coming out of our gate, and a man was coming with a load of timber; he was nearly blind, and he ran into the side of ray van, and it was his fault—it was the man's fault who ran into me in Edgware—I do not think that the horse which was injured at Edware had a name; it was a light bay—the horse which was not injured was brown mare named Daisy—that was the one I took out afterwards in sin✗harness—I went out quite safely then—I came out of the gate, turned to the right, and lifted the pole down—I came down on the eastern side—I went towards Morning Lane—I wanted to come down Graham Road past our gate—coming out I could not go straight over to the rails, because there was no road made then—I came out about 5 o'clock—I went back the same way at night—if I had tried to get in there I should have had a drop down of about eighteen inches—when I came back there was no difference in the condition of the vent hole; it was the same as when I went out—I lifted the pole down when I came back—there was a lamp hanging on the trestle, but we had to lift the pole down to come in for a week or ten days—it was closed to other traffic—there was no way out here—I was driving along, and all at once my horse stumbled and fell down—that was about 8.30 or 9—I looked to see if the watchman was there, but could see no one—I did not waste a lot of time—if I had seen him I should have told him what had happened—I did not see a policeman there—Hackney station is a good way from our yard—I did not think it was necessary to go and report to the policeman there—I have had horses down before—I did not report to anyone until next morning, when I saw James Battlebury

and he told me I had better see his son—I did not report to anyone on the job, or to a policeman—I did not think it was necessary—the roadway of planks was made right on to the rail quite a week afterwards, if not longer—I was first spoken to about giving evidence in this matter about a couple of months ago—I cannot give you the date or the day—Fred Battlebury came to see where this happened—when I had the second accident I was not leading my horse, because she would not be led—I got down, took the pole down, got up and drove in—when the horse stumbled she scrambled up herself in the shafts—I got down—I was not present when the veterinary surgeon examined the brown mare—no one spoke to me as I was going in with the horse and cart—I do not remember a watchman asking me if I was the last in—I think I was home last.

Re-examined. In the accident where there was a blind carman there was an action and a verdict for Battlebury—when I came back from Edgware I came up on the eastern side of the road—I went over the part of the road which was excavated—there was a pole here—I there had been boards here it would have been perfectly simple to drive across—it was daylight when I came back from Edgware—I took out the small van, came out of the gate, up on the western side, took down the pole and down Graham Road—when I came back I came the same way—I knew the road was rough, and I went steady—I am quite positive there were no planks until a week afterwards.

The prisoners received good characters. JAMES BATTLEBURY NOT GUILTY . FRED BATTLEBURY and LAMPLOUGH guilty of conspiracy and of subornation. FRED BATTLEBURY strongly recommended to leniency by the Jury on account of his long illness and good character— Six months' imprisonment. LAMPLOUGH— Twelve months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-266

266. JAMES BATTLEBURY was again charged for four other indictments for similar misdemeanours.

MR. ELLIOTT for the Prosecution, offered no evidence, and the jury returned a verdict of

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-267

267. THOMAS COOP, Forging and uttering an acquaintance and a receipt for £97 10s. with intent to defraud.

MR. POYSER Prosecuted; MR. MARSHALL HALL, K.C., M.P., MR. BRANDON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Defended.

REGINALD ALBERT GOODMAN . I am a chartered accountant and am now secretary to Rose, Coop & Rissone, Ltd.—I have a copy of the certificate of incorporation and the articles of association—the company was registered in August, 1902, but I was not secretary then—according to the minute book the directors were Alfred Rose, Alfred Coop, Thomas Coop, William Tennant Trimble and Edward Walker—the minute of September 12th, 1902, reads: "Mr. Edward Walker be appointed secretary, Messrs. Alfred and Thomas Coop to act as joint managers of the company, Mr. Alfred Coop managing the business at the works, and

Mr. Thomas Coop at the offices"—there is no managing director appointed on that minute—this (Produced) is the balance sheet for the first annual report dated May 16th, 1903, upon which it is stated that Mr. Thomas Coop is managing director—the general meeting at which that was presented was July 2nd, 1903—the minute of November 1st, 1902, reads: "It was proposed by Mr. T. Coop and seconded by Mr. C. E. Trimble and carried, that a banking account be at once opened at the London City and Midland Banking Company, Oxford Street Branch, and all cheques be signed by any two directors and countersigned by the secretary who was instructed to apply for same"—in the minute of February 12th, 1903, there is no entry with regard to Fiorillo in regard to three pianos or a payment on account of them—the date of the meeting preceding that was January 27th, 1902—these (Produced) are the books of the company—there are two cash books, one for petty cash—these two books relate to pianos on hire—among the papers of the company I found this cheque and receipt—the cheque is for £97 10s. drawn on behalf of the company by the proper authorities—I was not secretary at the time—I do not know the writing of Alfred Rose.

Cross-examined. I was appointed secretary about the middle of September, 1904—I know now that the prisoner had been a director of the company—this charge of forgery is in respect to something which is alleged to have taken place in February, 1903—I know nothing at all about the formation of this company—I have here the ledger, folio 27; it is an account between the company and the vendors—I cannot say if the prisoner was one—I do not see by it that on February 10th, 1903, the company owed him £85 on that account—I see here Mrs. A. Coop; I believe that is his wife—I know the prisoner, he was the great international football player in years gone by—since I have been appointed secretary he brought an action against the company on October 20th, 1904, for £66 2b. 8d.—my company defended that action and have claimed £37 10s. by way of counter claim—we are prosecuting him now for an offence said to have taken place in 1903, and in respect to which there if a civil action pending—until he brought this action to recover the £66 there was no suggestion of a prosecution, but there was a suggestion made to me to recover the money—our books are audited—this cheque and voucher were duly passed to the auditor—T swore the information in this case because the directors decided to prosecute, and as secretary of the company I laid the information—I gather from the minute book that be—between June, 1902, and September, 1903, the prisoner had sole control of the banking account and drew cheques upon his own signature alone—I cannot tell from the stock book what is the price of these three pianos; I do not know that we had them—our pianos are first valued at £30 each I think, and the next year, I think they are valued at 10 per cent, less—some are let out and put into public-houses—some are in better positions than others, one of these three bought from Fiorillo was at the Imperial Anns, Chelsea, and one at the Railway Tavern, Lower Edmonton—the information was drawn up by the company's solicitors—I do not know how to draw up an information—one of the pianos earned 19s. and the other just over £1 per week.

Re-examined. In the stock book of May 16th, 1903, there is an item of three new automatic pianos, second-hand crossed out in red ink, at £30=£90—there appears to be an alteration from £60 to £90—at the time the counter claim was put in we had not got Fiorillo's account of this transaction with regard to the receipt.

UMBERTO FIORILLO (Interpreted). I am a poultry merchant at 2, Big Hill Yard, Clerkenwell—in February, 1903, I went to the workshop of Rose, Coop & Co., about some repairs and to ask them to take away some pianos which were in some public-houses—I saw Rissone and Mr. Alfred Coop—to avoid having any further trouble I offered the company to buy my share out—they asked me what was my price, and I asked £22 each—I spoke to Rissone—the prisoner was not there—I did not see him about these pianos—I sold two pianos for £60; there was £1 commission on each—there were three pianos—one was in the work-shop, one at the Railway Tavern, Lower Edmonton, and one at the Imperial Arms, King's Road, Chelsea—I was paid £59 for them by Rissone the day after the sale—I received five £10 notes, and the rest in gold and silver—I gave a receipt in Italian—this (Produced) is not the one; it is not in my writing nor my signature—I never authorised anyone to sign this—I never received the £97 10s. mentioned in it—I never received this cheque for that amount—it is not my name at the back—I never saw it, nor authorised anybody to sign it on my behalf.

Cross-examined. I am quite sure that I received five £10 notes—this (Produced) is my usual signature—I never had a £20 note—this note (looking at a £20 note folded up) has on it "Fiorillo, 9, Great Bath Street"—that was my address—I am a business man and receive 50,000 of these notes (unfolding same)—I do not know if this is one of the identical notes handed to the prisoner when he cashed the cheque—I have never been convicted in Italy—I have never been in prison—I have been in the Italian Army—I did not desert—I am not a deserter—I do not know how many English notes I have had in my life—I do not know how much business I am doing—I believe I have had a £20 note and more than that in my possession—I swear this is not my signature on this receipt—I wrote these signatures at the Police Court (Produced)—I see that the "b" and the "e" in Umberto are not joined, and that it is the same in the receipt—that is why I always said it was a very good imitation; it all depends how my hand is; I never pay any attention to whether the last stroke goes up and down—I believe the signature I have just given is far better than the one on the receipt—I handed the Italian receipt to Rissone, the man who paid me—I know Mr. Alfred Coop; I thought at first his name was Mr. Rose, but a week before the case came to Marl-borough Street I found out what his name was—on February 7th I met him between my house and the Holborn Town Hall; another gentleman was with me—I did not say, "I am afraid now I have gone too far to alter my evidence"—I said to Mr. Alfred Coop, "If I had only seen you before, the case would never have been brought"—I did not say, "Tell your solicitors to hand me the receipt once again when I am in Court and ask me if that is my signature"—they suggested that I should say if they

did so, "Well, it is two years ago; I am not quite sure; it is a long time ago"—I did not say, "I can't say more; I am afraid of your brother; he will get me six months"—I do not keep a banking account for all these thousands of pounds—I never had a banking account—when I said I wanted to sell my shares I meant the pianos that I had—Rissone had no share in the pianos I sold—I am a merchant—I buy in Farringdon Market about £150 or £200 worth a day from a wholesale merchant—sometimes there is a month without buying anything—if I do not do business in one way I do it in another—I put my money in my pockets—why should I tell you how much money I have in my pocket now?—I might have 5s.—I asked £35 each for the pianos and they gave me £30—I did not tell Mr. Coop they cost me £45, because he had the register in the factory, where he knows the real price—I do not keep any books, because I do not owe nothing to anybody—one piano earned £1 10s. or £1 12s. a week before I sold them—at the time I sold them the one at Lower Edmonton used to bring me 8s. to 10s. a week, and the one at the Imperial Arms, 18s. or 20s.—I sold it because the expenses were much heavier than the profits, and also because the company cut me out—I did not sell the pianos to Mr. Coop for £30 each; I should have been very happy if I had—the position of the piano was not mine to sell—I did not ask the prisoner to let me have £22 10s. at once—he did not give me £7 10s.—Rissone did not give me £15 or anything at all—I got the £59 from Rissone in the presence of Morini—I paid Rissone £150 for five pianos—I had all the receipts at the time I went to Paris—I took all the papers away—I have found one (Produced)—I paid Rissone two instalments of £30 each—why should I pay it all at once?—I bought the pianos from him in December, 1901, and January, February and March, 1902—the first two pianos I paid £30 a time—how can I tell you where I cashed the £20 note?—it is not the first one I received—very likely I gave it to somebody—there is no difference to me to tell if it is £10 or £20—I never had a £20 note from Rissone—I have been abroad—it was in Paris that I was first applied to to give evidence in this case, through a friend of mine—Rissone did not write to me—I have been in England nine years—if I could speak English I would have spoken it—I have no interest to tell stories—I speak very little English.

Re-examined. The receipt says, "Received by cheque," but I received no cheque for these pianos—one of them was in Rissone's workshop, all broken up—I first heard of this case in December, a few days after I came back from Paris—I have no interest in the matter whatever—when I saw Mr. Alfred Coop at Holborn Town Hall we started speaking about this case—I said, "I am very sorry that so well built a company with a business would be smashed up; I am very sorry about hearing about this case coming up"—he said, "Can't you do anything for my brother?"—I said, "No, I cannot do anything, because I have to speak the truth. I have nothing to do with your brother or anybody else"—he said, "Whatever you want we are ready"—I said, "I do not think much of this case that you should offer me money; I do not think the case is worth it that you should offer me money, because I do not know anything, and I only have to speak the truth"—he said, "Why don't you say that for two years I forget my

signature; by doing so you will put the case right"—I said, "No, that I cannot do"—he told me, "I will come and see you to-night at 7 o'clock"—I did not go to see him and I have not seen him since—I never had more than the one payment of £60 for these pianos.

By MR. MARSHALL HALL. I remember this conversation now because I have been asked about it—I did not say before the Magistrate that I had seen Alfred Coop the day before and that we spoke about the case, bat that I did not remember what was said.

GIOVANNI BAPTISTE RISSONE . I live at 71. Mount Pleasant, Clerkenwell, and am works manager to Rose, Coop & Rissone—before the company was formed I knew Fiorillo and I had sold him five pianos—I saw him in February, 1903, in my office at the works, 13 and 14, Bull Buildings, Clerkenwell—Alfred Coop was present at the time, but nobody else—Fiorillo came for another man, offering to sell the company their pianos far £60, and we agreed to give him that—£18 was not paid to him when the bargain was made; no money was paid at that time—I did rot see anybody pay 17 10s. to Fiorillo—the £60 was to be paid the day after—the next day a man that worked for the firm brought me from the office an envelope with the money inside, six £10 notes—I sent him round to the Blue Posts public-house to change one of them—when I paid Fiorillo I gave him five £1 notes and £9 in gold—he gave me a receipt for it in Italian—this is not it (Produced); it was on a plain piece of paper, not printed on—nothing else was paid to Fiorillo, as far as I know—I put the receipt in the drawer with the sovereign change—in the morning I gave Alfred Coop the receipt and the sovereign when he came; the two together—I have nothing to do with keeping the accounts of the company—it coats £20 to make a new piano—I am a maker of pianos myself—these three pianos were old ones—two of them were in public-houses and one in the works for repairs—some people pay 5s., some 3s., and some 2s. 6d. for getting a place for a piano; that is hiring them out—you could buy new pianos of this description in the market at the time this transaction took place for £26 or £27—Morini was present when I sent the man out for the change.

Cross-examined. I cannot say the name of the man who brought the notes—it was not Morini—he did not bring two £20 notes, two £10 notes and £30 in gold—it was formerly my business, and I sold it to Rose, Coop and Rissone in 1902—the prisoner paid somebody had touched the petty cash, but it was not me—the porter at the door came upstairs once and said, "This bill is not it"—the prisoner never said I had altered the patty cash receipts from "1s." to "1s. 9d."—I dealt with Foster and Cole, timber merchants, of Great Eastern Street—I did not ask Mr. Cole after I had sold my business to the company to post date the invoices for the June account for timber, so that the company should have to pay them and not me—the company did rot repudiate them—the company was formed on June 1st or 2nd—the wood was sold to me on May 24th, and was to be delivered on May 27th; but it was not delivered—I refuted it, because I did not want to buy wood for the company—it came two or three days before the company was formed, and I refuted it because it was not wanted then—Mr. Cole wanted the money from me when I

refused the wood—I am the Mr. Rissone who applied for a beer licence at the Kennington Licensing Sessions this year—I did not apply last year, nor did I put up a man to apply—the man who applied had nothing to do with me—the Magistrates would not give him a licence—they did not tell me that I had been guilty of attempting a fraud upon them—I do not know the name of the man who applied then—he wanted a licence as he had got a lease for twenty-one years—Fiorillo is an Italian—he is a traveller—I do not know what rent he paid for his room—I have never been there—I do not know exactly what time it was when the messenger brought this money—I am quite sure that I paid Fiorillo the five £10 notes and £9 in gold—I gave the messenger no receipt for the money—he works on the place—I did not pay Fiorillo until the next day, because he did not come until then—it was too late to pay him on the same day—he came next morning—he used to live in the neighbourhood—there is no director in the business who can talk and read Italian—the solicitor instructing Mr. Poyser is one of the directors now—Fiorillo said at the Police Court that he had sold the pianos to me and Mr. Alfred Hose, but he said that because he did not understand the company—he had nothing to do with it at that time—they had been sold by him to the company—the receipt I took from Fiorillo was not stamped—whether it had the names of the public houses where the pianos were has nothing to do with me—he gave me a receipt in Italian because he could not write English—I cannot write English—Morini does my English correspondence—I did not get him to write it in English, because Fiorillo wanted to write it himself—somebody else has got the £30, not me—ask the prisoner what has become of it—I have not heard since last night that you an going to produce one of the identical £20 notes that you are going to prove by the Bank of England was given in exchange for the cheque which the prisoner is prepared to swear was sent to me—ask Mr. Coop how he got that £20 note—the prisoner's brother take the sovereign when I gave the receipt to the prisoner; they came together in the morning—ore of them came a minute after the other—I did not steal this £30 and try and accuse the prisoner of it—I have got no chance of stealing anything—Fiorillo went to Pairs—I did not write to him to return from Paris—I wrote him to ask him to write in the price of the pianos, because the company did not believe it, and he wrote back telling me the pianos were sold for £59—I showed the letter to Mr. Goodman, the secretary—I do not know that I told him Fiorillo would come back from Paris at my request—this is the letter I received from Paris [The interpreter then translated the letter, which was in Italian, in which Fiorillo stated that he had sold the pianos for £59, for which he had given a receipt. MR. MARSHALL HALL then pointed out that though the letter was dated November, 1904, written on it in pencil was Received October 24th, 1904"]—I did not put that pencil writing on it—I do not know what day or month that letter came.

Re-examined. Not until now has there been any suggestion that I took this £30; I have not seen it in my life.

By the COURT. I gave Fiorillo £9; he did not give me £1 change when giving me the receipt—I did not say, "I paid the notes to Fiorilio.

He gave me a receipt for them written in Italian, together with one sovereign change in gold, which receipt and sovereign I gave to Thomas Coop on the following day"—that is not my writing.

DOMINIC MORINI . I live at 48, Scroop Buildings, Portpool Lane, Holborn—I was working there—I know Rissone—I was working at the factory in February, 1903—I received a £10 note from Rissone, and cashed it at the Blue Posts public house and brought back the change to him—I flaw Fiorillo there at the time—I saw Rissone then hand five £10 notes and £9 in gold to him—I did not see Fiorillo give any receipt for the money—I went downstairs directly to my work.

Cross-examined. I have done a little English correspondence for Rissone—a licence was not asked for in my and my wife's name by Ristone last year at Kennington—I never applied for a licence—I know nothing about that, and do not know that Rissone applied for a licence this year, nor did I do any English correspondence for that—Rissone has a wife who can speak English a little—I have left there a long time, about seven months—I did not take any money from the prisoner to Rissone—I am quite sure it was a £10 note I changed—they did not ask me to write my name upon it; we used to cash written cheques there sometimes, and they knew us—I do not know where the Blue Posts people bank—I know that the London and County Bank, Holborn, is just at the bottom of Gray's Inn Road—I should say it was five or six minutes walk from the Blue Posts—I never went to the bank with Mr. Coop one Tuesday; I remember once he gave me some gold in a bag, which I saw on getting hick to the works was for wages—very likely there was £50 or £60 in that bag—it is true when I said before, "I did not go on a Tuesday with Mr. Coop to the bank. I went with him on a Saturday. He gave me some money. I cannot say he cashed a cheque. Very likely I went into the bank with him. I did not see him endorse the cheque, or write on it. I went back with the money he gave me to Mr. Rissone. I handed that money to Mr. Rissone the same day. I did not see the cheque. The money was given to me in a bag, gold and silver only, for wages. I did not get any notes from Mr. Coop. There might have been £50 or £60 in the bag. I knew the money was for wages. I usually went on the Saturday to the bank"—I am not aware of any messenger in the business who would be likely to take £60 in notes to Rissone's place in Clerkenwell—I have no idea who took it—I do not know anybody who would have been trusted with that money, unless it was some of the staff of the offices in Regent Street, which had nothing to do with the works—I went every Saturday to the bank—I usually got a bearer cheque from the office and went to the bank for the wages; but on this occasion they refused to cash it, so I took the cheque back to the office and that was the time that Mr. Coop came with me to the bank—Rissone gave Fiorillo the notes between, roughly, 6 p.m. and 8 p.m.—I cannot say to an hour—I knew the pianos had been sold to the company—I generally worked to 10 or 11 p.m.; I was on piece work.

EDWARD WALKER . I am a canvassing agent of 53, Hailed Road, forest Gate—in February, 1903, I was secretary to Rose, Coop & Co.,

and my duties were at the office—when the cheque (Ex. A.) was drawn I and the prisoner were present—it is in my handwriting, signed by Alfred Rose and the prisoner, and countersigned by me as secretary—I drew it out for Fiorillo in this form at the prisoner's request—he said it was for the purchase of three pianos, £32 10s. each—it was a crossed cheque and afterwards at the prisoner's request, "Pay cash" was written across and initialled by the directors—as a result of that the bank would cash it without it going through another bank—I handed it to the prisoner, and entered it in the cash book—the books are all here—this receipt (Produced) is drawn by the prisoner, and it would come to me in the ordinary course of business, and be put on the receipt file—Mr. Bruford is the auditor of the company, and in the ordinary course of business this receipt would come before him when he went through the tiles—I cannot say I remember the exact date that it did so—he and I merely referred to it.

Cross-examined. I was secretary from the beginning of the company—I believe the prisoner, his wife, and one other person, found £250 to start it—I do not know that some portion of the business has been transferred to his wife; it is since my time—I knew the prisoner before I went to the company as the secretary of some big football clubs, and as a well-known footballer—during its early inception the whole cash of the company was in his hands—I have nothing to say against him—I was told that the pianos were being bought from Fiorillo—the name is spelt Wrongly on the cheque as "F-e-r-r-o-l-l-o"—it is an order cheque, therefore, it would have to bear at the back an endorsement exactly similar to the name of the payee—the endorsement is also spelt in the same way—Fiorillo was entered in the books as of that name—I see the name is spelt differently in the body of the stamped receipt, F-u-e-r-r-e-l-l-o, whereas the signature is spelt right—I do not know where the prisoner came from, but he came and asked for a cheque—he did not bring Morini, whom I know quite well by sight, with him—the offices of the company are at Regent Street—I do not recollect that Morini was at the offices when the cheque was drawn; I think not—I should not have seen him if he had been downstairs—in the middle of 1903. this receipt would come before the auditor—the prisoner remained managing director of the company down to September, 1904—I left the secretary ship in December, 1903—during the time I was there there was no suggestion of fraud against the prisoner.

Re-examined. This is the stock book at the works, May 16th, 1903—the third item in this book is, "Three new automatic pianos, walnut, gold, at £30, £90, carried forward"—there was "second-hand" originally put against it, but it is struck out in red, and the"£90" was originally"£60," therefore, one may assume that where there is now" £30" was"£20"—it is my writing and my alteration, which were approved by the prisoner—this happened before the audit.

By MR. MARSHALL HALL. I had entered them as "Three secondhand pianos at £20," and the prisoner called my attention to the fact that they

were not sold as secondhand pianos, and they must be taken at the stock value—Rissone did not tell me to enter them at £20.

ERNEST CABLE . I am a cashier at the Oxford Street branch of the London, City and Midland Bank—I have copies of entries in the bank-book, taken in accordance with the Act of Parliament—this cheque (Ex. A.) was paid by myself and debited to the account of Rote, Coop & co., Ltd—these figures on the back, "2 by £10 and 2 by £20," mean Bank of England notes—" £36 and £2 10s. in gold" indicate how the money was paid—there is an alteration on the cheque, "By cash," which obliteratea the crossing, so we would pay to anybody presenting the cheque, instead of it having to come through a banker.

Cross-examined. This is the remains of a £20 Bank of England note (Produced) mutilated, as it always is, by the bank—I find written upon the back, "Fiorillo, 9, Great Bath Street"—it is one of the notes that was given in exchange for the £97 10s. cheque.

JOHN CLITSOME BRUFORD . I am a chartered accountant at Broad Street House with the firm of Albert Goodman, Son, Pollard & Bros, who in auditors to Rose, Coop & Co.—I took part in the audit of that firm to the Spring, 1903—the prisoner was managing director at the time—when taking the audit I noticed this receipt (Ex. B.) because, in the first place, the secretary drew my attention to it, and then I saw that the signature was very similar, in my opinion, to the handwriting in the body of it; I also looked at the "F"—in consequence of that I made inquiries of the prisoner if that was Fiorillo's signature—he told me it was, and said, "If you are not satisfied, I will get you another one. If you art not satisfied then, I will produce Mr. Fiorillo"—I accepted his word—the next time I was on the audit, I cannot say for certain when, the receipt was produced, and the prisoner told me, as he had told me before, that it was Fiorillo's signature, and that he could produce me another receipt if I was not satisfied with that one, or he could produce fiorillo himself—there was nothing special about the other receipts to draw my attention to them.

Cross-examined. My partner is Mr. Goodman's brother, who is now secretary of the company—I am a director of the company—I did not mike it a condition of becoming a director that Mr. Goodman's brother should be appointed secretary—the fact that I was made a director and Mr. Goodman secretary at the same time is a coincidence—I certainly did not ask the prisoner to appoint me as secretary—I do not know that it is correct there was no suggestion made against the prisoner until he brought an action against the company to recover money which, he said, was owing to him—I believe that the prisoner's wife brought an action, and we paid without fighting—I know that he was arrested upon a warrant—I do not know what Mr. Goodman swore in his information—Mr. Worth, the solicitor instructing Mr. Poyser, is a director of the company.

By the COURT. I did not have the prisoner summoned, instead of being arrested, because I thought to arrest him was the proper way of proceeding in a criminal change—I do not know that they arrested him at

the place where he was working in a responsible position as manager to the International Music Company.

JOHN CURRY (Sergeant C.) I arrested the prisoner on January 17th—I read the warrant to him, and he said, "Yes, I understand, they have already taken an action against me, I have not forged any signature"—on the way to the station he said, "About 1903 I bought three pianos from a man on Saturday. He wanted the money, and I paid him some on recount. I drew a cheque on the bank for the full amount, and forwarded it to him, for which a receipt was sent. They say that I forged the signature; it is not my writing. I do not fear anything; that is why I have not run away"—he may have said, "I forwarded the balance to him."

Cross-examined. The warrant was given in the first instance to a sergeant, who was afterwards sent away in the country for another prisoner—it was on my own initiative that I arrested him at Vine Street, where he was working with a man who is here as a witness to his character, and is still employing him—I know nothing at all about him myself.

The Jury here stated that they did not think it safe to act upon the evidence of Fiorillo and returned a verdict of

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-268

268. THOMAS COOP was again indicted for forging and uttering knowing it to be forged, an indorsement upon an order for the payment of £97 10s.

MR. POYSER, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-269

269. THOMAS HOY, Feloniously wounding William Green with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. LYONS Prosecuted; MR. CURTIS BENNETT Defended.

WILLIAM GREEN . I am a carman, of 79, Catherst Road, Lefer Street, Mile End—between 7 and 8 p.m. on January 7th, Saturday, I met the prisoner in the Al beerhouse with several men—I never spoke to him—while I was in the bar a man threw something at me, and I remonstrated with him—I have never seen him from that day to this—the prisoner interfered and said to me, 'What is the matter with you? Do you want a row"—I said, "No, I do not want a row"—the man in the bar said, "Come away, Green; don't have a row," and I went outside—I did not see the prisoner there—I went into another beerhouse—the prisoner came and called me out, and wanted to renew the quarrel, saying, "You wanted a row. Have one outside now"—I went out and blows were struck on each side; we both struck one another together—he ran away saying, "Stop a minute, I will soon stop you"—I went away with another man—I was standing outside the Al again, when I saw the prisoner standing at the opposite corner of the street jeering—I said to him, "Let us finish the fight, or shake hands and be friends"—he thereupon rushed across the road and struck me from behind with something in his fist and I remembered no more—I had no weapon with me—I had not threatened the prisoner at all.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for three or four years,

and had been on friendly terms all that time—he is the brother-in-law of Lilly, whom I know—I had a drink with Lilly in the A1 on the first occasion—I do not remember having supper with him and the prisoner—that was the second public-house I had been in that evening, the Black Horse being the first, where I bad had one drink—I did not go up to the prisoner, pull him aside from Lilly, and say, "If you hit him, I shall smash your face in," and then start a quarrel—after leaving the Al I went to the Albion—I went back to the A1 because I thought the prisoner had gone away—I had simply got my coat off when I said, "Finish it, or let us shake hands"—I am not a professional boxer, nor am I a boxer—I swear I have not boxed professionally—I certainly did not null across to him with something in my hand—I do not know, nor have I ever heard of, Jeffries, nor have I ever boxed with him—the prisoner struck me either on the side or the back of my head.

By the COURT. I did not see him just before I got the blow, but he must have rushed across.

LEONARD OSBORN . I am a carman—on the evening of January 7th Green came into the A1 while I was there—somebody in the bar threw a paper bag at him, whereupon he turned round and told the man he did not want to be made a target of—the prisoner then turned round and asked Green if he was after trouble and asked him to have a fight—I turned to Green and said, "Come on you don't want to fight. Come oat of it"—I took him up the street and came back and went into the Albion—I then heard a noise at the back and went out and saw Green and the prisoner quarrelling with words—Green said, "Why don't you shake hands, and let us be friends, or let us fight and finish it?"—I said to Owen, "You do not want any fight. Come on out of it," and I took Mm as far as the Al, and the prisoner went to the other side of the road—while at the corner he began jeering and sneering and Green came across and said, "come on, Tom, if it is like that, let us finish it," and he threw off his coat—I turned round and caught hold of Green, when suddenly the prisoner rushed from the corner and struck him across the head—green was standing so that he could not see the prisoner coming—the prisoner hit Green several blows on his head with a hammer, or a piece of iron with a big head—Green was knocked down and I closed with the prisoner and brought him to the kerb, and his sister took the hammer away from him as I held his arms—I then released him and went over to pick up Green, whom I took to my house—I then fetched a cab which took him to the hospital.

Cross-examined. When the prisoner was jeering Green stood in the middle of the road and wanted to fight—the prisoner did not come up from behind but sideways—Green was knocked down by the first blow and he got up again—he had absolutely nothing in his hinds—there was any amount of people round, and some ought to have been here—they are rather rough people—Green could not defend himself—he was too dazed by the first blow—I did my best to stop the prisoner striking him—there were several blows struck by the prisoner.

By the COURT. I was catching hold of Green's right arm and was pulling him round when the blows were struck.

JOHN HENRY FARQUHAR WILLGRESS . I am house surgeon to the London Hospital—about 9.30 p.m. on January 7th I examined Green, and found two wounds, one a contused wound at the back of his head, about 1/2 inch by 3/4 inch and another one extending from about 4 inch above the ear, dividing part of the ear to the cheek—it had slit the ear and a piece of the scalp just behind the ear—the wound at the back of the head might have been caused by a blow from some blunt instrument or by a fall, but the one on the ear was undoubtedly caused by something with a cutting edge, in my opinion—it would be caused by moderate violence—he was under my care until February 1st.

By the COURT. There was no actual fracture of the head—the wound behind the head was not dangerous, and the other one was not especially dangerous of itself but on account of complications it might have been, and if it had been slightly to the other side, it would have been actually dangerous on its own account.

The prisoner here stated that he was guilty of unlawful wounding and the Jury returned a verdict to that effect. One minor conviction was proved against him. The police stated that he had been discharged from the Army as being worthless and incorrigible. Twelve months' hard labour.

NEW COURT—Monday and Tuesday, March 20th and 21st, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-270

270. JAMES JOYCE (37) , Unlawfully attempting to have carnal knowledge of Mary Burgess, a girl above 13 and under 16 years of age.

MR. A HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Prosecuted.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-271

271. WILLIAM JOHN MILNE (45) and CHARLES WILLIAM SMITH (40) , Conspiring together and with other persons unknown to defraud Thomas Perry of a ring and bracelet and £8 5s. 6d. his property. Other counts charge them with conspiring to defraud other persons of their goods and money and unlawfully and fraudulently obtaining from Thomas Perry a ring, a bracelet, and £8 5s. 6d. by false pretences with intent to defraud.

MR. PERCIVAL CLARKE Prosecuted; MR. MARTIN O'CONNOR and MR. RUTTNER Defended MILNE.

WILFRED CLARKE . I am manager to Thomas Perry, jeweler, of 272, Oxford Street—I was in the shop between 6 and 7 p.m. on December 19th, when Milne came in—he asked to see some rings—I showed him some and he selected a plain gold Belcher ring, value £3—he then asked to see some bracelets—he selected a curb bracelet, valued £1 4s. 6d.—he said he had not enough cash with him, would I take a cheque—I naked to see it, and he produced one drawn by Smith for £12 10s.—he said Smith was a collector or an inspector to the New York Life Insurance Co.,

and the cheque was given by Smith to him for work done—he produced this business card, "W. J. Milne, builder and decorator, 63, Navarino-Road, Dalston"—he also showed me several letters to himself—I cannot say who they were from, and a mortgage debenture on some property valued at £1,000, which he said the London County Council were engaging to purchase—he said it was a mortgage debenture—he said the address on the card was his and that he had works there—he said he would be responsible for the cheque and he endorsed it on the counter I believed his statements and handed him the ring, the bracelet and £8 to. 6d.—the cheque was banked on the 20th—it was returned about the 21st, and I at once sent a messenger to Navarino Road, but he could get no answer from anybody. I wrote to Milne the same night and five days later I received this letter from him (Stating that he was surprised that Smith had not met the cheque and asking him to put it through again,—in consequence the cheque was again put through the bank—when I first received it I did not particularly notice the date—I am under the impression that it was dated the 18th—I put it through the bank again, I think, on December 29th, and it was again returned—I wrote again to Milne and on January 14th received this letter from him (Stating that he had been doing his best to get the money from Smith, so that he could take up the cheque he had given, but had been unsuccessful; that he had executed a mortgage on some property and was quite certain the County Council would take it tithing a month, so that he would then be in a better position as regarded funds; that he proposed giring Mr. Perry a promissory note payable in two months, and he to return the cheque, that he (Milner) could then place it in his solicitor's hands and instruct him to proceed against Smith)—I agreed to accept a promissory note for one month and I received this promissory note, dated January 18th, promising to pay Mr. Perry or his order in one month in consideration of Mr. Perry returning the cheque—I returned the cheque and the promissory note passed into the hands of the police—we have not received our goods or money back.

Cross-examined by MR. RUTTNER. I am not sufficiently versed in these matters to know if the document he showed me was a mortgage deed, but he satisfied me that he was what he was representing himself my messenger left about 0 p.m., and would get to Navarino Road, I presume, about six—he saw me when he returned—the cheque was, not dated the 28th—this is it (Produced)—it is dated December 19th. I thought his letter of January 14th was a bona fide offer—he suggested two months for the promissory note—I said one month—at that time I knew nothing of the other cheques which he had presented.

Cross-examined by Smith. I do not think Milne gave me a card or prospectus of yours to show that you were an inspector or a collector to an insurance company—I did not ask him anything further as to who you were—I did not look to sec if his name was in the directory—I did not think it a curious thing for an absolute stranger to draw £8 in" gold without our using ordinary precautions—we must take certain, risks—I thought he was an honest man—I have to use my judgment, which I thought was correct but it was not—I have done business in

the same circumstances scores of times, and have only had one cheque returned—I did not inquire who you were, because Milne assumed responsibility by endorsing the cheque.

WILLIAM JAMES HORSFIELD . I am an assistant to Thomas Jones, jeweler, of 41, St. James, Street—I was at his shop on December 22nd about 6 p.m., when Milne came in and asked to see some bracelets—I showed him some—he selected one, price £8 8s.—hesaid he had not sufficient change, and asked me if I would change a cheque which had been given to him—he said he was a builder, and showed me a business card—he showed me this cheque, made payable to cash or bearer, for £10 10s., signed Charles Smith, dated December 28th—at that time I took the date to be December 20th—he said Smith was an agent for, I think, the New York Life Insurance Co., and produced Smith's card—I am not sure what became of that, but I think he left it with us—I have not got it—I understood that he had got Smith's cheque for work done—I believed his statements and handed him the bracelet and £2 2s. change—the cheque was paid into the bank in the ordinary way—it was returned in the week following Christmas marked "Post dated"—I sent a messenger to Milne's place—he came back with an unsatisfactory account—I did not see Milne—I paid the cheque in again after December 28th; it was again returned, marked "Refer to drawer"—we took no further steps in the matter—the next thing that happened was that we got this letter dated January 2nd from Milne (Asking the cheque had been passed through the bank again, and if it had been met)—we did not reply to that—we next got this letter dated January 12th from him (Asking if the cheque had been met, and if not whether they could not come to some arrangements, so that they could get their money, and he would not lose his)—on January 14th we got a letter suggesting a promissory note in two months—we took no further steps in the matter, and did not answer his letter—the next thing was a visit from the police.

Cross-examined by MR. RUTTINER. I sent a messenger to Milne's house in the morning—he left a message—I believe a woman opened the door, and said Milne was away in the country—I did not reply to Milne's letter, because from what our messenger told us I did not think it was any use—I told him to tell Milne to call upon us—I should not think of accepting a promissory note in place of a cheque—I would sooner lose the money—I thought it was a put-up job when he wrote the letters—when I saw him at the shop I thought he was perfectly bona fide—the messenger said the place was very small, a matter of a few shillings a week, and that the works consisted of a part of a shed with nothing in it.

Cross-examined by Smith. I thought that Milne came to us because he "had come to the district about some work—it was not an expensive bracelet—he looked exactly what he represented himself to be—I was satisfied with what he said.

MORRIS SCHWARTZ . I am manager to the Great Eastern Timber Co., Limited, of 7, Austin Street, Shore ditch—on December 21st, about 2 p.m., I saw Milne in the yard—I had seen one of his cards—I asked him what he wanted—he said he wanted to buy some inch mahogany for fitting up a coffee shop at Barking—I took him to our saw mills—I took

him back to the yard, and he ordered several boards of mahogany, and some match lining value £6 8s.—I think after the transaction was finished he took out a cheque and said, "You would not mind cashing that"—I said, "What is it?"—he said, "It is my architect"—he said he had just drew some money—this (Produced) is the cheque for £9 7s. 6d., drawn by Charles M. Smith on the Economic Bank, dated December 28th, but it looks like the 20th—I said, "Is not this more like an 8 than a 0?"—he said, "No, it is merely a slip of the pen"—it looks like an 8 to me, but I took it for a cheque drawn on the 20th—going to the mill we had a fairly long ride by train, and on the was he said he had some property in Barking which the County Council would probably want very shortly, and he would get a big profit on it—I believed what he said about the cheque and gave him. £2—we came back late from the mill, and the money in the office was banked—he said he could do with very little money, and I gave him the £2 out of my own pocket, and sent the 19s. 6d. balance up with the goods to Wells Street, Haekney—I paid the cheque in, and it was returned, marked "Postdated"—I thought the bank had read it for the 28th, and I paid it in on the 27th to be presented on the 28th—it was returned again marked "Refer to drawer"—I wrote to Milne and I received a letter, but before that I handed it over to the company's solicitors—I did not see Milne again—the letter was dated January 14th (Stating that he had been unable to fit the money from Smith, or he would have brought it; that he had just executed a mortgage on some property, and was quite certain the London County Council would want it in a month or two, and that he would then be in a better position as regarded funds; that he proposed giving a promissory note payable in two months, and Mr. Schwartz to return the cheque so that he could instruct his solicitors to proceed against Smith)—the matter had been put into the hands of the Timber Trades Protection Society—a summons was issued, and the ordinary proceedings in the County Court taken—in the first place Milne gave notice of defence, and I had to turn up, but when I got to the County Court there was no defence—our solicitors put in an execution, but of course they got nothing.

Cross-examined by MR. RUTTNER. I am sure Milne said the property was at Barking—he said nothing about a mortgage there—it takes about twenty-five minutes to get by tram from the office to the saw mills—we when talking about trade, and I could see he understood it—the cheque did not come back until after the goods were delivered—I did not do anything in the matter until the 28th—I did not reply to Milne's letter of January 14th—my instruct ions are when any money gets behind to send the facts to the Trade Protection Society—when I got his letter of the 14th the matter was out of my hands—I cannot exactly say when the hearing was at the County Court, but it was about six weeks afterwards—we may have had two or three cases at the County Court—I do not know the dates; I did not know when I went to the County Court that Milne had been criminally and was then locked up.

Cross-examined by Smith. I have only known Milne since December 20th—I had not done business with him previously—I was so impressed with his business abilities that I believed everything he said—I inquired

who you were—I did not ask where your office was or the nature of the work he had done, except that it was a coffee shop in Barking Road—it was immaterial to me whether the cheque was the 20th or the 28th—if it was the 23rd I should not have troubled very much—I occasionally have to take post-dated cheques—the goods were delivered on December 21at—I had not time to make inquiries, and I did not think it fit to do so—I was satisfied and I did not trouble who you were.

Re-examined. I understood that the cheque was a valuable security for money—I gave evidence before the Magistrate on February 22nd and then said that I had been to the County Court a fortnight before.

ALFRED WOOLARD . I am a jeweller, of 26, Westbourne Grove—about 6.30 p.m. on December 21st Milne came to my shop and said he wanted to see a gold chain marked £8 10s. in the window—I showed it to him and he decided to purchase it—he also selected two rings and a scarf pin and then tendered me this cheque for £17 12s. 6d., dated December 28th, drawn by Charles Smith—the goods were altogether valued at £15 12s. 6d.—before he purchased them he said, "It being Christmas time I may as well give something to the wife"—I took the cheque to be dated December 20th—he said he was a builder in a very good way of business and that he had workshops at an address on his business card, which he handed me—he said Smith, who had drawn the cheque, was a district inspector in the New York Life Insurance Office and in a very good way of business and I need not fear—he showed me Smith's card and said the cheque was for the building work done—I believed his statements and accepted the cheque—I gave him the articles and £2 change—I paid the cheque into my bank on the 22nd and it was returned, marked "Post-dated"—it was presented again on the 28th and returned, marked "Refer drawer"—I went to Navarino Road and to the workshop the same day, but could not make anyone hear—I made inquiries and found another man had taken a similar cheque—the house appeared to be occupied, but all the blinds were drawn—the cheque is drawn to W. J. Milne or bearer, but it bears Milne's endorsement—he signed it as an extra precaution in case it was returned—he said, to show me that he was a man of means he would show me these two document" (Produced) relating to the purchase of some property.

Cross-examined by MR. RUTTNER. When the bank said the cheque was post-dated I took it for granted—it was returned about the 25th—it did not occur to me that it was dated the 28th—Milne said he had just taken it from Smith on the day before—I should not have taken a post-dated cheque—I did not do anything between the 22nd and the 29th—it did not raise suspicion in my mind, because I thought it was all right—I went to Milne's house about 3 p.m.; it was not dark—I went to the next door neighbor who said, "Oh, it is no good you knocking there; everyone knocks there and nobody comes in answer"—that made me suspicious, and then I found a man who had taken a bad cheque, and who, I think, would have given Milne a good thrashing if he could have found him—the neighbors said a lady and her daughter were living in the house, but would not open the door.

Cross-examined by Smith. I made inquiries concerning you at the insurance office on December 28th—I do not know the man's name who I saw there; he is a witness—I showed him this card—he said you were not a district inspector and never had been—I pressed him very hard on that—the New York Life Insurance Office is at Basildon House, Moorgate Street—he said you had no right to use this card which has on it "Agents' inspector"—December 28th was a bit foggy and Milne said he was down my way visiting some friends and had seen the chain in the window—I have a small shop, but there is a lot of business done in it—Milne came to buy a chain and when he offered a cheque I refused to let the assistant take it, but I cross-questioned him and I eventually took it—I felt a little suspicious at first—I did not look in the directory, because I had not got one—I was satisfied with his statement—I can generally cross-examine a man so well that I can find out whether he is right or wrong—I did not trouble very much whether you were the sort of person who was described on the card—I concluded that if you were not a sound man Milne would be—I should not have taken the cheque if your card had not been produced, and on the strength of the letter from the solicitors which he showed me I parted with my goods and money.

WATLER CHARLES COLLINGWOOD . I am a salesman to William Gabrilo, jeweller, of 61, Cornhill—on January 6th, about 6 or 6. 15, Milne came into the shop and asked to see a ring and a wedding ring, which I sold to him for £8 2s.—he produced this cheque for £10 15s.—he said he was a builder and produced this card—the cheque is dated January 5th, drawn by Smith on the Economic Bank—he said Smith was a contractor and he had had many cheques before from him, and they had always been met—I believed what he told me and handed him the goods and £2 13s.—he went away—the cheque was paid into the bank in the ordinary way and returned, marked "Refer to drawer"—I went to Navarino Road on the 10th, the day the cheque was returned—I saw a lady who said she was Mrs. Milne and that Mr. Milne was away—I went to Wells Street, Hackney, but found nobody there—I went back to Navarino Road and told Mrs. Milne that I was unable to find him, and left a message for him—on January 14th I received this letter from him (Stating that he had not been able to call as promised as he had been engaged with hit workmen on a very difficult job; that he had executed a mortgage on torn property and was pretty certain that the County Council would take it in a month or so, when he would be in a better position as regarded funds; that if Mr. Gabrilo would accept a promissory note payable in two months and return the cheque he would then instruct his solicitors to proceed against Smith)—I put the matter into the hands of our solicitors—this letter of January 23rd we did not see, but it is in the same writing as the other—we have not got the chain or money back.

Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I do not know if Milne had purchased any property.

Cross-examined by Smith. I did not ask Milne the nature of your business or for your ard—I did not look into the directory to see if what he said was true—I was not influenced by your name.

HENRY DODGE . I am manager to Nora Webster, of 91, Gracechurch Street—about 6 p.m. on January 6th Milne came in and said he wanted to see a gold chain which was in the window, price £6—I showed it to him—he said he would have it, but was rather short of cash; would I mind taking a cheque?—he produced this cheque, dated January 5th, on the Economic Bank, payable to himself or order, for £7 4s. 9d., signed Charles M. Smith—he said Smith was a friend of his who he had been doing work for—I believed his statements—he endorsed the cheque—this is his signature on the back—I handed him the gold chain and £1 4s. 9d. change—the cheque was paid into the bank in the ordinary way and was returned, marked "Refer to drawer"—I sent a messenger to Milne at Navarino Road and a few days afterwards I received this letter from him, dated January 11th (Stating he could not call as he had to leave home early on business and would not be back in the City before closing time, but would endeavor to call the following day unless he got back earlier than he anticipated, when he would call to-day)—he did not call the following day, and on January 12th I received this letter from him (Stating that he was sorry he had not been able to call before 6.45, when he found the shop closed, but would call to-morrow)—he did not come and see me, and the next I heard was when I got this letter of January 14th (Apologising for not calling; stating that he had executed a mortgage on some property he was certain the London County Council would require within a month, when he would be in a better position with regard to funds; that he proposed giving a promissory note payable in two months; and on receiving back the cheque he would instruct his solicitor to proceed against Smith)—I did not accept his suggestion of a promissory note—I wrote and asked him to return the chain and got this letter, dated January 23rd (Stating he would like to carry out the suggestion, but had mislaid or lost the chain and was now rather short of ready money, but if Webster would accept a promissory note payable in one month it would enable him to sue Smith and show that he was not a man of straw; and that when the matter was settled he would probably buy other things from them)—that is the last I heard of it except the visit from the police.

Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. did not make any inquiries as to who Smith was—I looked in the directory to see who Milne was, but could not find his name—that was after I parted with the chain and money—I did not do so before, because he presented his card—he gave me Smith's address, which I cannot remember—I knew that Smith would be the first person liable to meet the cheque, but Milne saying he was a builder and I thought he would be the first to meet it—he also gave me the name of a firm of solicitors, Messrs. Norris, Allen & Chapman—I was satisfied about the drawer of the cheque.

Cross-examined by Smith. Milne said the work was some carpenter in repairs—he gave me no particulars—I did not trouble very much about you; I was satisfied with what he said about himself.

LYDIA CARR . I am clerk to Charles Read, jeweller, of 54, Strand—I was at' his shop on January 10th, between 7 and 8 p.m., when Milne came in—an assistant who has since left attended to him—I was present

and heard what took place—Milne asked to see a ring which we had in the window marked £6 15s.—he wanted to purchase it—he produced this cheque and asked us to take for it out of that—the cheque is on the Economic Bank, signed by Charles M. Smith, for £8 17s. 6d., dated January 10th, as we took it, but it may be the 18th—he produced a business card which he said was his own, and a letter of which he said, "This is who I got the cheque from"—he endorsed it—the ring was given to him and £2 2s. 6d. change—the cheque was paid into the bank And returned, marked" R. D."

Cross-examined by Smith. I did not read the letter Milne produced—there was an address on it, but I did not read it—we did not ask him who you were—I was not actually serving or I should have read the letter—the assistant was perfectly satisfied with the representation Milne made.

HARRY ROY STAMP . From November until the end of December I was a cashier in the New York Life Insurance Company, Basildon House, Moorgate Street—about August Smith was engaged by the company as an agency inspector on commission—while with us he earned no commission—an agency inspector, I believe, is a term generally used by insurance companies—since January 1st we have not used it—they are now called agents—we terminated Smith's agreement on December 30th—he had to find people to insure—he received no salary.

Cross-examined by Smith. I do not know that you have been associated with the company for four or five years—I have heard of Mr. Phillip Williams—I knew you were on his staff; you did some business—that was another branch of our company two or three years ago—your contract was discontinued at that time—you had a contract from August 4th, 1904, to January 7th, 1905—if a casual person dropped into the office and asked for Mr. Smith or Mr. Brown, I think the person in charge would know the name—the staff is not so large that a mistake might be made and the person say he did not know the name—if any one had asked me between August and January if we had an agent named Smith I should have said yes and I think the other people in the office would have done the same—I believe someone asked for you; I do not know if I said you were there or not.

A. WOLLARD (Re-examined by Smith). Mr. Stamp is the person I saw At Basildon House about 5 p.m. on December 28th.

H.R. STAMP (Re-examined by Smith.) When Mr. Wollard called on December 28th I may have told him you were not associated with the company—if I did I made a mistake through not looking up your name—I thought your contract was finished.

Re-examined. The last time Smith did any business for the company was at least two years ago.

By the COURT. We do not put into the hands of people who are merely touting agents cards saying they are agents, inspectors—Smith was a man with no salary, who would get commission if he got a person to insure—he was employed before, and we found him perfectly straight-forward—the agents were allowed to have their cards printed and were

allowed to pay avenge away to get their commission—at that time the staff at Basil don House was only three outside the manager and the other agents.

ARTHUR WALKER . I am cashier at the Economic Bank, Bishops gate Street, and produce a certified copy o! Charles Smith's account from November 1st, 1904, to January 31st, 1905—the amount which passed through the account was £30; it was opened with a payment in of £10, which was the largest sum ever paid in—there is a cheque-book debited on November let, 2s.—there was £5 paid in on November 22nd, and postal orders on the 23rd for £2—at the end of November £24 had been paid in and £16 7s. 3d. taken out—on January 2nd £1 7s. 6d. is paid in and by January 31st there is a balance of Is., which was returned to him—I frequently saw Smith at the bank—this 5s. is commission for keeping the account—we received cheques when there was no money in the bank to meet—I have here a list which I have made of the cheques presented and dishonoured—on December 10th, 1904, a cheque for £1 10s. was dishonoured; on December 12th cheques for £2 and £12; on December 13th, £5; on December 19th, £2 5s.; on December 21st, £1210s.; and on December 22nd, £9 7s. 6d.—the cheque given to the Great Eastern Timber Co. was presented before it was due, it is dated December 28th, but it might be 20th or 28th—the cheque is in Smith's writing, or at any rate the signature is—there is also a cheque dishonoured, dated December 23rd, for £17 12s. 6d.—it is signed by Smith—that was post-dated also on December 29th there was one for £12 10s. which was dishonoured on December 29th for £10 10s.; on the 30th, one for £8 15s.; on January 7th one for £7 4s. 9d.—that is undoubtedly drawn by Smith—we should honour it if there was money to meet it—on January 9th there was one dishonoured for £10 15s.; on January 11th, £8 17s. 6d.; one on the 12th for £10 17s. and one on the 17th for £2 2s.—the account was not in a satisfactory condition, and I requested him to close it I think after the second or third cheque which I sent back—if we cannot see the customer we send a printed notice requesting that the account should be closed—I sent Smith a notice like this (Produced) on two occasions, if not more, but it wan not necessary, because I told him personally we should close his account if he kept on this sort of thing.

Cross-examined by Smith. I should speak to you about the account immediately there was a return—I do not remember your coming in on November 23rd and paying in sufficient money to cover a cheque which was dishonoured about two hours before—you may have called on December 8th or 10th to inquire if a certain sum had been paid to your credit—you paid in £4 10s. on December 20th and 15s. on the 28th—you complained to me about one or two cheques which you had lost—if you asked me to stop payment of them I should ask for full particulars, which no doubt was done—I cannot call to mind your calling on December 29th and asking me about a cheque for £2 12s. 6d. which had been paid and had been materially altered from what it originally was—I see that this cheque (Produced) has been altered from "Bearer to "Order" and has not been initialled or endorsed—I do not remember

your speaking to me about it—I believe you asked me to stop one or two orders—all I remember is that you spoke about a cheque for £10 15s. and you would have funds in a day or two to meet it—the notices in writing would be sent to Basildon House, but you were gone and the letter returned—we did not send it to your private address—you have never had the official notice closing the account.

Re-examined. Basildon House was Smith's address, which we had on our books—to the best of my belief he did not give us notice of his leaving—he did not suggest at the Police Court that any cheques were stolen—it was unnecessary to stop cheques for which he had got no money.

HARRY WALKER . I am a wood chopper, and have a shed at Coach Yard, Wells Street, Hackney—about May, 1904, I let about half of it to Milne—he paid 3s. a week rent, which I got without difficulty, and without having to ask for—he does not owe me anything now—he had two or four men to work for him to make ice and meat safes—he did a big business—I do not know how many he made—I have seen about twelve or a little over—he left off working there in February last—he need to bring his wood there and make his cases and send them out—he did a lot in the building line at different places—he did not have building in the shed—he had match lining and long planks and beams but no mahogany—I saw a sausage machine there—it is there now with two long planks and, I believe, some bicycle wheels.

Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. There was a genuine business done by him in his shed—his men were pretty regular—I do not know the exile of the whole shed—it is not quite as large as this court—occasionally when he wanted to leave these boards and any wood, I let him us it outside—the safes are tremendously big; I should say six or eight lest high—he made them in the shed and then took them to pieces and took them out—you could not get them through the double doors—there was also a bench there.

HANRY WARNER (Detective F.) On the evening of February 6th I saw Milne in the Three Crowns, Old Street—I went up to him and asked him if his name was Milne—he made no answer, and I said, "I think you are Milne, and 1 am a detective officer and have got a warrant for your arrest. I shall arrest you"—I asked him to come outside and I read the warrant to him, which charged him with obtaining goods by false pretences from Mr. Wollard—he said, "It is not me you want, it is Smith. I lent him about £130, and hearing he was a bit flush with money I asked him to let me have some, which he did in cheques"—I took him to the station and charged him—he made no reply.

GORDON ROSE (Detective F.) On February 20th I saw Smith in Cheapside—I had received a description of him—I walked sharply up to him and said, "Mr. Smith"—he said, "Oh"—I said, "Your name is Mr. Smith, is it not?"—he said, "Oh"—I knew the man I wanted had an account with Tyler in Queen Street, so I said, "Cannot you pay a little bit off Tyler's account?"—he said, "As a matter of fact, old chap, I was just going round there to do it"—I said, "That is all right. I am a police-officer

and shall arrest you for conspiracy with Milne, in custody, to defraud persona by means of worthless cheques"—he said, "I have been expecting this. I had some intimation of it. When one does this sort of thing one has to expect to put up with it"—I took him to Paddington police station, and when charged he said, "At the proper time and the proper place I can give an answer to that"—I searched him and found these papers (Produced) on him and this cheque book on the Economic Bank, which contained two up used cheques.

Cross-examined by Smith. I have a very good memory—at the police station I made a note of what you said—you did not say when I spoke to you about Tyler's account, "As a matter of fact, if I had received monies due to me to-day that account would have been paid, but according to arrangements I am not supposed to see him until to-morrow"—you asked to see the warrant and I said I should read it to you in the proper way at the police station—you did not say you would give an answer to that as soon as you heard the warrant read—I told you the effect of the warrant—I do not remember hearing it mentioned that Milne had said you had borrowed £130 off him or your saying that 130d. would be a lot—or your making any comment on Milne's accommodation.

HENRY WARNER (Re-examined by Smith). I was with Rose when we met you in Cheapside—you said to him about Tyler, "As a matter of fact, I was just going round to see him"—you asked me what Milne had said when he was arrested—I said, "Have not you seen it in the paper?"—you said, "Oh, yes, I saw something about lending me £130. I should like to see it. I should like to see 130d."—you said 130d. would be a lot—you seemed to be surprised that Milne had said it—I do not remember your saying anything else.

Milne, in his defence on oath, said that he met Smith about four years ago, that he placed absolute confidence in him; that Smith had borrowed £130 at different times from him; that when he asked for its return Smith gave him a sexes of postdated cheques, saying he would be sure to meet them when they became due; that he (Milne) had no banking account and found he could get the cheques cashed at jewellers, easier than anywhere else; that he could not remember when he first heard of their not being met, but thought it was about the first week in January; that when he did hear of it he went to Smith, who said it would be all right; and that when he heard it was not all right he offered to give promissory notes.

Smith, in his defence on oath, said that he gave the cheques to Milne at his earnest request, to enable him to get them discounted to carry out certain work, that he (Milne) out of the profit he made, said he would provide for all the cheques he used and that he (Smith) said that if he used them he did so at his own risk and on his own responsibility.

GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoners were well known in the City as associates of long firm swindlers. Twelve months hard labour each.

Reference Number: t19050306-272

272. JEREMIAH KEOGH (28) , Unlawfully and indecently assaulting Eveline Rose Wheeler.

MR. A. HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL

HUGHES Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 22nd, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-273

273. CHARLES BRAMBLE (47) , Feloniously wounding William Hill with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. SHERWOOD COOPER Prosecuted; MR. COHEN Defended.

VIOLET ROSITTI MACNULTY . I am the wife of James Macnulty, of 181, Royal Mint Square, Mile End—the prisoner is my father—on February 2nd, about 3.30,1 saw him at my house—he had been drinking—I gave him some tea, and after that he said he was going to Edmonton to catch Hill and my mother on the quiet—I said, "Father, don't go—he pulled a razor from his waistcoat pocket and said, "This means mischief"—these (Produced) are the pieces of the razor—he left my house it 6.30—I do not think his wife had been living with him just before that time.

Cross-examined. I have not been a friend of Hill's for some time—I do not know him much—I know him to speak to—I did not know him before my mother went to live with him—I did not know till lately that she was living with him—I have had some refreshment with him daring this case-my husband did not seem to object to my associating with my mother's paramour—he knew of it—my father is a hairdresser—I have never known him to carry, a razor before—his shop is at Strat-ford—he lives there—it is a good distance from my house—it would tike fifteen or twenty minutes by train—he was very drunk when he came to my house—I only gave him tea to drink.

WILLIAM HILL . I am a costermonger, and on February 2nd I lived At 19, Woolmore Road, Edmonton—the prisoner's wife had been living there for three or four weeks—on February 2nd 1 was going home about 8.30 by myself—there is a garden and a gate in front of my house—the fence is about five feet high—when I went in at the gate I saw the prisoner standing by the house—he said, "You are first come, first serve"—I had seen him at Christmas time in his wife's house when I was paying the rent in Beaconsfield Road, Edmonton—when he said, "First come first serve, "he put his hand into his grey overcoat pocket and made a feint—he put it back again—he drawed it out again and he slashed me across the ear—when he made the feint he put his hand tack and then pulled it out with something in it—he drawed it across my ears and my eyes, where you see the mark—then he stabbed me through the cheek—he did not say anything—when I tried to get the razor away from him I got him down, and as I did so ho cut me across the lip and the chin and three of my fingers were cut—I broke it and threw

some of it into the garden over the fence—I wanted to throw it all over—it was in more than one piece—the prisoner ran out of the gate into the middle of the road and I reeled against the fence and tried to get out down to the back door, as the front door was shut—the prisoner came at me with his two lists and tried to strike me, but I gathered all the strength I had got and overpowered him and dropped him on to the kerb—he never spoke a word the whole time—later on the police came, and I was taken to the police station and from there to Tottenham hospital, where I was three or four days.

Cross-examined. I was convicted and sentenced to penal servitude at this Court nine years ago for uttering bad coin—I swear I have not been in prison since for violently assaulting the police—I was summoned only once for defending my guv'nor against my brother, and the case was dismissed—I have been living with the prisoner's wife as man and wife about eight or nine months ago—she never told me she was still living with the prisoner—for three weeks she lived openly in my house with her daughter, but not as my wife—I first did wrong with her from the time I first knew her up to eight or nine months—I was not living with her for seven months—I began carrying on with her about seven months ago—the daughter was with her in her house at that time, but I was not—I have not ill-treated her—she went to the police station when she came home the worse for drink one day—I do not know her handwriting—I know that since this occurrence she has gone to live with her brother at 25, Stamford Road—the prisoner spoke first to me on this night—he never mentioned his wife, nor did he convey to me that he wanted to see her—I did not know what he had come for; he did not give me an opportunity to think—I was very much surprised to see him—I have formed the idea from his daughter, Mrs. Macnulty, since that he came down to murder me and his wife—there is a boy named George in the house, who works for me, and calls me "Bill"—he did not bring me that crooked iron rod (Produced) during the struggle, and it was never in my hands—the first time I saw him was when he was running up to the policeman to stop the prisoner from running away—he came from behind the house, and holload, "Oh, ray gracious, they have cut Bill's throat"—he did not have an iron bar—that iron rod has been in my hands when I was at work—I brought this rod (Straight iron rod produced) to show you—I had nothing whatever in my hands to protect myself with—I did not strike the first blow—a week or so ago the prisoner's wife left me because she was frightened of stopping in the house in case the prisoner ever got at her again and murdered her—I am not aware that she has been to see him in prison—I do not know that she went to him before she came to live with me in my house at Christmas and begged to be forgiven nor that he had made it up with her—she did not leave me because I ill-treated her, nor have I ever said so.

NELLIE BRAMBLE . I was fourteen years old last June, and the prisoner is my father—on February 2nd I was living at 19, Woolmore Road, Edmonton, where Hill was living—he left there about three weeks ago—I lived with my father and mother at Silver Street, Edmonton, until seven

or eight months ago, when they separated—I left with my mother and went to 23, Beaconsfield Road, Edmonton, where Hill came sometimes on a Sunday—just after Christmas I went with my mother to Vicarage Lane, Stratford; we went to take my little brother to my father at Stratford—about Christmas my father came back to see mother for one night at 23, Beaconsfield Road—he was not living there—Hill came that night and there was a bit of a disturbance—he knocked at the door, and nobody answered, and, of course, he brake a pane of glass in the door—I went down and opened it, and he came in and went upstairs, where he saw father—we had the whole house and my mother was upstairs, too—Hill came downstairs and came back with two men, threatening to turn my mother and father out—he then went upstairs, and got my mother's coat and fur, and left the house again—that is all that happened—I do not remember father saying anything after Hill had gone—about 8 p.m. on February 2nd I heard someone knocking at the door, and I looked out of the window and saw father—he palled out to me, "Tell your mother I only want her for two minutes"—she was in the passage—I did not see anybody else in the front of the house then—father then went to the back, opened the back gate, and knocked at the back door—he found he could not get in that way, so he returned and flung the front room window open from the outside—I and mother went out at the back gate and saw Hill coming along—we then went back into the parlour—I saw Hill come in at the gate, and my father rushed at him and there was struggling; I could not see anything else—J did not hear either of them say anything—I went for the police.

Cross-examined. When I and mother lived at Beaconsfield Road Hill paid the expenses of the house—when he broke the front door glass panel mother was upstairs in bed; father was in the back room at that time—my father was in bed with her—I think I said that before—I called Hill "Rill"—I did not know Hill and my mother were doing something wrong, and I do not know it now—my mother slept upstairs, and I slept with my little brother in the back room—Hill slept with my mother—I told mother that I had seen father outside on the night of February 2nd—I did not say to Hill when he came up, "There is my father hanging About"—I said to him, "I see my father going down Angel Road"—this was opposite the Three Crowns, a little way down the street and before they met—Hill knew that my father was about—I did not tell Hill that my father had come to see mother—mother did not tell Hill that she had seen father—we went into the parlour and saw the struggle start from the front window—it was dark, and it was not a very well lighted street—when I was in the parlour Hill had just come in through the gate—as I was coming home from work about fifteen minutes before this I saw father, and I went up and told Hill at his stall that I had seen him—I am now living at my uncle's house—I have left Hill's house for about a week—mother has been there all the time till about a week or ten days ago—we left the house at the game time—I have seen Hill knock mother about, and she has been twice to the police station to complain—I did not go with her—I came to Count this morning with Hill; I did not have

a drink with him—I had a chat with him yesterday, but not a drink—I am still friendly with him—my uncle, who is mother's brother, is named Bill—I have never troubled about mother's writing, and I did not see her write this letter (Produced) nor can I tell you whether it is in her writing—I made a mistake when I said I knew her writing.

WILLIAM SPIERS (581 N.) About 8.40 p.m. on February 2nd I was on duty in Fore Street, Edmonton, when, in consequence of information I received, 1 went to 19, Woolmore Road, where I saw the prisoner standing in the middle of the road and Hill standing outside the house—Hill said to me, indicating the prisoner, and within his hearing, "I wish to give that man into custody. He has been using a knife on me. Look at my face"—his face was smothered in blood—I arrested the prisoner, who said, "I will come with you, sir. This is what Mr. Hill done to me," and he pointed to the left side of his hear—I took them both to the station.

Cross-examined. The prisoner showed marks of being violently hurt; he was not bleeding, as his head was bandaged up—he was perfectly calm—he did not appear to be in pain—I have seen him doing business in Edmonton as a barber and I do not know anything against him.

By the COURT. There was a cut down the left side of the prisoner's head and one round his left eye—the doctor saw both him and Hill.

WILLIAM JONES . I am the divisional surgeon at the Edmonton police station—between 9 and 10 p.m. on February 2nd I was called to that station, where I examined the prisoner and Hill—on Hill I found incised wounds over the eyelashes of his right eye across the bridge of his nose, over his left eye, on his left temple, and on his left ear—the wound over his right eye was one-eighth inch deep, the one on his left ear being the deepest of them all—there was also a contused wound on his left cheek, right through into the mouth—the incised wounds would have been caused by a sharp instrument—he had lost a quantity of blood, and there were signs of it on his clothing—I dressed, and put a good many stitches in the wounds, and directed that he should be removed to Tottenham Hospital—on February 16th I took out the last of the stitches—I examined the prisoner and found contused wounds on the top of his head about five inches in length, and just above the left eye—the wound on the top of his head might have been caused by this bent iron rod—it was impossible to have been caused by the fist—the wound on his left eye might have been caused by the fist, or he might have fallen against something.

Cross-examined. Hill is quite well now—I do not think the wound on the prisoner's left eye could have been caused by that crooked iron rod.

By the COURT. I should not like to say the contused wound on Hill's cheek was caused by a sharp instrument.

WILLIAM SOPER (Inspector N.) At 11 p.m. on February 2nd, in consequence of information I received, I went to the Edmonton police station where I saw Hill—I found him suffering from cuts on his face, and bleeding very profusely—in the prisoner's presence he said, "That man has done it

with a knife"—I charged the prisoner with attempting to murder Hill and he said, "I am not guilty. He started on me first. I never had any tool to cut him with. He set about me with an iron, and I set about him with something else; do you see? I did it in sell-defence"—I went afterwards to 19, Woolmore Road, where I found about ten yards from the right of the gate in the road this broken razor, which was then quite wet with blood—two other portions were picked up and handed to me by detective sergeants, who made a search—they almost made the razor complete—I went there at about 11.45 p.m. the same night, and it looked as if a severe struggle had taken place in the garden and in the roadway; there was blood on the wall and all down the fore-court.

Cross-examined. I have known both the men for some time—Hill is a costermonger of rather doubtful character—the prisoner's wife has come to complain three times of Hill's ill treatment of her—I have known the prisoner eight years, and have never known him do anything wrong, except that once he was charged with drunkenness, and once with using obscene language—Thursday is the early closing day in those parts and the barbers shut early on that day—I suppose the prisoner has been in business ever since February 3rd.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "My wife left me, and I went away to my daughter's in Stratford. I never molested her until at Christmas. She came to me and made it up. I went back with her to her lace in Beaconsfield Road. I went there again on this Thursday, to see when she was coming home, and was standing there knocking at the door when this man Hill came up. He set about me. Someone gave him an iron bar and he knocked me down, and then if I had not done what I did, he would have murdered me."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that his wife had left him about twelve months ago to live with Hill, with whom he was not angry; that she returned to him at Stratford, when he forgave her; that she left him to go to her house at Beaconsfield Road, promising to come back to him as soon as she could leave her work; that on February 2nd, shutting his barber's shop at 2 p.m., and putting his rotor in his pocket, as he generally did, he went to his daughter's house; that he was drunk at the time and could not remember anything he said or did whilst there; that about three hours afterwards he went to Beaconsfield Road to see if his wife could come home; that whilst knocking at the door Hill came up and said, "Do you want a little fight?"and threw him down, got on top of him and pummelled his head with his fists for about fifteen minutes; that he struggled on to his feet, whereupon Hill hit him on the head and knocked him down-again with a piece of iron which a little boy who had just come up had given him; that to save himself from being murdered he used his razor to protect himself; that he was in the Brixton Hospital for ten days; and that he never said after Hill had gone away with his wife's fur and coat, "I he comes again I will get the knife on him."

Evidence in Defence.

THOMAS BRAMBLE . I am the prisoner's brother, and am a hairdresser at Tottenham—I do not work at the same shop with the prisoner—the

prisoner's wife gave me this crooked piece of iron last Tuesday week—I did not find it myself.

ETHEL NEWLAND . I am fourteen and a half years old, and live at 3, Westbourne Terrace, which is part of Woolmore Road—about 7.45 p.m. on February 2nd I was playing outside either 18, 19, or 20, Woolmore Road, with my friend, Annie Holmes, when I heard someone say, "I want my children"—I turned round, and saw the prisoner go up to No. 19, and look through the window—he then knocked at the door, but nobody opened it—I did not hear any voice from inside—Hill came along and said to the prisoner, "What do you want here?"—he said, "I want my children"—Hill said, "What do you want them for?"and the prisoner said, "I only want to see them for a minute"—Hill pushed the prisoner in the road—that was the beginning of the row, and the first violence I saw—the prisoner said, "I will not have that for nothing, "and rushed at Hill, who threw him to the ground—Hill then knelt on him for about a quarter of an hour—the prisoner shouted, "Oh, let me get up, for God's sake"—Hill holload out, "Nellie, run and fetch a policeman; I have got him now," and the girl said, "All right, Bill"—I had not seen her before that night—she went to fetch a policeman—the prisoner got on to his feet, and they started fighting again—I then saw a boy whom I know as "George" coming along with Hill's barrow, and Mrs. Bramble came out and helped him to push it into the stables at the side of the house—the boy, who is Hill's regular boy handed a piece of iron like a fish hook to Hill, and said, "Here you are Bill, here is something for you"—the iron war straight like that one (Produced)—when the boy turned round to give Hill this fish hook he and the prisoner were covered with blood about the face—Hill rushed at the prisoner, and struck him with the iron—the prisoner fell down in the road, they both went to the ground, and there was a good struggle—George holload, "Go it, Bill." and then they both got up, and Hill went indoors, while the prisoner went on to the opposite side—he said to me, "Have you got a rag?"—I said, "Yes, you can have my handkerchief, but will you give it me back?"—I gave him my handkerchief, and ran to fetch a pinafore, which I gave him, and he put it round his head—he then said, "I haven't got no money, and I want to go to Stratford to-night"—he said that because all his money had fallen on the ground, and I helped him to pick it up—two policemen then came up and took the prisoner and Hill to the station—the prisoner, whose head was bandaged up, and whose face was bleeding, said, 'How far is it?"—the policeman said, "Not far, old man"—he seemed as if he would fall down and faint—he was sober.

Cross-examined. I never saw any razor; the prisoner had nothing in his hand that I know of—when Hill was kneeling on the prisoner he did not hit him—he was simply holding him down—they were quite quiet—there were only us two there—when the boy gave Hill the bar they were lighting with their hands—Mrs. Bramble must have seen the fight.

ANNIE HOLMES . I live at 6, Westmoreland Terrace, Edmonton, and I know No. 19, Voolmore Road—I was playing at the top of the street with Ethel Newland, when I heard a man saying, "I want my children" against the window—we went to see, and we saw the prisoner knocking at the

door of No. 19—Hill came along using bad language and said to him, "Will you have a fight just for friendship?" then he pushed the prisoner right over into the road—the prisoner said, "I will not take that for nothing, "And pitched into Hill, who then got him on the step in the gateway, and kneeled on him—the prisoner said, "Let me get up for God's sake" they both got up—then the fish man (Hill) had in his hand a short, bright thing like a knife, and he struck the barber (the prisoner) three times on the head with it, and when he done it, it sounded as if it scraped on a bone; then the fishman got him down on the road again, and kneeled on him again—I do not know whether he did anything then—I came away, and that was the last I saw of it.

JAMEES SCOTT (By the COURT.). I am the medical officer at Brixton prison—I examined the prisoner, who came on February 3rd, and found he had a scalp wound on the top of his head, about three inches long and lather deep, a small cut over his left eye, and his face was bruised and scratched—he was in the hospital for ten days—such a thing as that iron rod would have produced an injury like that—he was not actually in-toxicated; he presented the appearance of having been drinking the day before.

NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 23rd, 1905.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t19050306-274

274. WILLIAM YELVEBTON DAVENPORT, Feloniously marrying Harriette Pain Morgan, his wife being alive.

MR. KENRICK Prosecuted; MR. SYDENHAM JONES Defended,

CHARLES CRUTCHETT (Detective-Sergeant T.) I arrested the prisoner on February 4th—I produce a certified copy of an entry in the Register of Marriages at Somerset House, showing that William Yelverton Davenport married Mary Evans on February 29th, 1876—he was then described as a surgeon, residing at Broad Street, Hereford, and she was a spinster, residing at Commercial Street, Hereford, at the time of marriage—I also produce the original certificate of marriage solemnized at St. Mary's Church, in the Parish of St. Mary, Fulham, which shows that the prisoner on December 26th, 1892, married Harriette Pain Morgan.

Cross-examined. In the second certificate he is described as a widower, and she as a spinster, thirty-four years of age—the warrant for the prisoner's appprehension was issued on the information of Miss Harriette Pain Morgan, as she described herself then—it came into my hands on February 4th, and I arrested him the same evening—he said, "I do not understand"—on the way to the station, and at the station, on hearing the charge, he said, "This is a great surprise to me, or words to that effect—I do not know how Miss Morgan obtained the information.

ROBERT JULIUS JONES . I live at 13, Commercial Road, Hereford, and am the parish clerk at St. Peter's Church, Hereford—I recollect February 29th, 1876, when I was present at St. Peter's Church at a marriage

between the prisoner and Mary Evans—I recognise the prisoner as the man who went through the marriage ceremony—neither of them are natives of Hereford; the prisoner was a stranger to me.

Cross-examined. The next time I saw the prisoner was at Teddington Police Court quite recently, when I gave evidence—I identified him and his wife—I had particular reason for taking notice at the time they were married.

By the COURT. I have not seen the wife since she was married, but I was able to recognise her; she has worn well.

HARRIETTE PAIN MORGAN . I live at The Brackens, Feltham Road, Ashford—I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner on December 26th, 1892, at St. Mary's Church, Fulham—I first met him in April or May of that year—he described himself as a widower—I was residing in London at the time; my mother's home being at Ashford—he told me that he had had four children, but they had all died of consumption, and that his wife had died from the effects of alcohol—I do not think he told me when she had died—I had no suspicion whatever that he had a wife living; I believed him implicitly—from December, 1892, I lived with him as his wife until 1896, when we separated for six months—he came back to me, and I left him finally on November 19th, 1904—I left him for a few days repeatedly between those two dates, but I cannot give you the dates—I left him because of his cruelty to me and intemperance—I have four children, of whom the prisoner is the father, born since the marriage—the first was born in June, 1893—on December 12th a separation order was granted to me on my application in November—after that I heard that he was married, and 1 applied for a warrant, which was issued, and he was given into custody.

Cross-examined. When I first made his acquaintance I was living at 3, Sterndale Road, and he was living at a fishing cottage he had taken for the season at Ashford—at that time I used to teach Mrs. Richardson's nephew, a grandson of an Indian judge—this cottage was many miles from where I was living—I and my sister went there for afternoon tea with Miss Crane, who kept his house—this letter is in my writing, but it does not refer to a visit to his house, but one to my mother—we occaionally stayed to supper—this letter is in my writing and not dated [This was addressed from 3, Sterndale Road, West Kensington, S.W., to "My dearest Will" in which the witness suggested that the prisoner should see the vicar and that if the banns were published on Sunday, they could be married on the 21st; suggesting a good, place to pitch his business in, asking how many days, notice were required to be given before the banns were published and signed, "Your own Blossy"]—it would not be December 21st that I referred to there; it was fixed for an earlier date, but it was postponed—that was before Christmas—the object was that the prisoner was going to open a new surgery and he wished to have the marriage, so that it should not interfere with the opening at all, in the autumn or New Year—I really cannot fix the date when he first told me his wife was dead—he told me repeatedly—he proposed to me on July 9th—the banns were not published; we had a licence—the last of my children was born at Ashford—the prisoner

had a medical appointment at Brynmawr, and I and the children were going down there when he wired us not to do so—he has always attended me at my confinements—I believe he had taken a house for us at Brynmawr—I was naturally anxious for him to attend me at my last confinement—Dr. De la Mot, with a trained nurse, attended me about a month after the birth of my first child—it is true that I had correspondence with Mr. Jarman, the Clerk of the Guardians at Rhayader—I expect it would be about three years after our marriage—I cannot say for certain—my sister gave roe his address and the information; I am a very unsuspicious person myself and I did not seek information—I did not find a diary of the prisoner's amongst his papers, in which he kept his visiting list and other particulars; he never allowed me to read his letters and I never interfered with his papers or looked at them—I have heard of a diary and letters kept in a box by the prisoner, but I have never seen them—Lady Nisbet is the prisoner's aunt, and had looked after his education—I have never heard of a letter from the vicar of Rhayader to the prisoner or to Commander Davenport, his brother, or to Mr. Bromley Davenport—the prisoner told me before the marriage that his wife had had a serious illness, and the news of her death had come from his aunt—I do not remember ever having been told of the communications that took place between the prisoner and the vicar of Rhayader about 1880—these letters ire in the prisoner's writing (Produced) but I think they are to his wife, who was Miss Evans—I have corresponded with Commander Davenport for some years; he has been on foreign Service—he always addressed me as "Mrs. Davenport" in his letters—he has been very kind to me; the prisoner was not able to support us—he sent me money before the separation—his first wife has told me that Commander Davenport knew her—I have never head him mention her to me; I presume he thought she was dead—I obtained Shelly Davenport's address, who is one of the prisoner's sons by his first wife, from my sister; I wrote to the first wife to ascertain the truth of the first marriage, and he replied—the diary was given to me by my sister, who found it on the occasion when the prisoner tried to commit suicide and was sent to a home—I know Mr. Michael Nichols, the prisoner's cousin, who is a very nice man, and treated me in every way as the prisoner's wife—the prisoner and I have been touring a good deal with theatrical companies, in Shropshire, and we went to many places—the Rev. Edmund Nichols sent me some presents for the children, bat I do not think he sent some money to roe to enable me to get home as the company had come to a standstill, which often happens in the dramatic profession—he treated me well in every way—I know the prisoner had a tin hat box into which he was in the habit of putting letters, which went to Ashford to my mother's place, and from there we removed it to Twickenham; when we went on tour it was taken to my mother's at 30, London Road, Twickenham, with our furniture—my mother did not live long there and the goods were sold by Mr. Forge, who destroyed all the letters in that box—I never went to Brynmawr on tour; that is before the prisoner gave up the medical for the dramatic profession—Brynmawr is in Brecanshire, and Rhayader is in Radnorshire—Beconshire

is the next county to Radnorshire, which is within an easy distance of Shropshire—they would not be very far distant from Rhayader.

GEORGE MOPRGAN JARMAN . I live at Rhayader and am Clerk to the Guardians of the Rhayader Union—I have known the prisoner and his wife, who was formerly Mary Kvans, a native of Rhayader, for about twenty-five years—they did not live some years in Rhayader after their marriage; they went away together—she came back to Rhayader alone and is living there still—I saw her two or three days ago in the precincts of this Court, and to my knowledge she is still living—I should see her nearly every day in Rhayader.

By the COURT. They did not live together as man and wife in Rhayader, but I heard from my father—I do not know anything at all of the circumstances under which they separated, except from what I have heard from other people.

MR. SYDENHAM JONES submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury, on the grounds that after an absence of seven years the presumption of death would arise. MR. KENRICK submitted that that question did not arise unless the absence were under such circumstances as to give reasonable ground for supposition of the death, which were not present in this case. The COURT ruled that the evidence was that they were absent a great deal longer than seven years; that therefore there was no evidence as to the circumstances under which they separated; and that there was no case made out.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Thursday, March 23rd, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-275

275. WILLIAM CLARKE OLIPHANT (36) , Unlawfully omitting certain particulars from the Paris Cash Account book, the property of Charles Henry Sandon & Co., his masters. (See page 662.)

MR. MUIR and MR. MURPHY Prosecuted; and MR. A. GILL and MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Defended.

JAMES MCCLUSKEY . I am in the service of Sandon & Co., tailors, in London at 8, Saville Row, and in Paris at 5, Rue Clement Marot—I was at their Paris branch—about 7.30 p.m. on February 12th I collected from Baron Robert de Rothschild an account of £146 15e. 6d. which was paid to me by a cheque for 3,670 francs (Ex. C.)—I receipted the account on this document (Ex. B.) and gave it to the Baron—I handed the cheque to the prisoner at the shop the next morning, about 9.30 or 10 a.m., and it is endorsed by him—this is a receipt given to M. Jean Stern, which I got from his secretary for the purposes of this case.

CHARLES WILKINSON . I am a clerk to Messrs. Sandon & Co. at Paris—I made out this receipt (Ex. D.) for M. Stern's account of £60 0s. 7d. at the prisoner's request—just before I did so M. Stern's valet was in the shop; he came and told me he was going to cash a

cheque on the bank and he would come and pay this account—I told the prisoner about it and he told me to make out a receipt ready for him when the valet came back—this was about March 25th—I cannot fix the exact date, and the receipt is not dated—I was not present when the money was actually paid, but the prisoner told me that it had been paid—on December 15th I gave Mr. Vanbergen this receipt for £35 12s., which money was paid to me in French notes, 890 francs—I handed that money to the prisoner about 3 p.m. to 5 p.m. on the same day—I have a note of it—Mr. Moore has got the receipt back from Mr. Vanbergen—the Paris banking hours are up to 4 p.m.

WILLIAM JAMES MOORE . I am a partner in the firm of Sandon & Co., tailors, of 8, Saville Row, and we have a branch business at Paris, of which the prisoner has been the manager since 1898 under this agreement (Ex. F.) (Paragraph 3 stated that the prisoner on receiving orders was to remit full particulars to the London establishment. Paragraph 4, that the prisoner should keep proper books of accounts and make correct entries of all sums received by him, and of all petty expenses and outgoings, and also of all goods received, sold and delivered, and all orders and other transactions, however small; that on the Monday of every week he was to transmit to Sandon & Co. a full, dear and correct statement in writing, of all monies, goods, orders and transactions which shall have been received, told or delivered, or have taken place during the preceding week, distinguishing sales of cash and sales of credit. That all monies received by the prisoner should be remitted to London Paragraph 7, tights he was to have a clear yearly salary of £100 and a commission of £5 per cent, on all orders of full price taken by him. Paragraph 8, that Sandon & Co. were to pay the rent and the other expenses, and that the prisoner was not to incur any expenses without the authority in writing of the firm)—at first all monies were to be remitted by him, but I cannot say that all monies were actually remitted—as far as I know, all monies were accounted for by him to me—in the early part of the time money that might have been used for business purposes was accounted for, but not remitted; he regretted the balance—subsequently that course of business was altered and we opened an account in Paris with the Credit Leona's, and it was the prisoner's duty to pay all monies received by him on our account into that tank absolutely without deduction—we supplied him with a weekly sum for whatever he spent during the week, so that at any time after the receipt of that cheque he had 300 francs in hand—the books of the paris branch were kept in London, and this is the book in which the entries were made relating to the Paris business called' Paris Cash Account (Produced) which I kept personally—it contains the entries of all cash received in Paris excepting tome possible oases where cheques were sent to me—in London—it would not be correct to say that this contains an account of all the cheques received in Paris—the cash paid out in Paris is accounted for in this book on the other side—the prisoner made payments out in Paris in the ordinary course of business except, perhaps, when we made payments for customs charges, which were pretty considerable; that cheque would be sent by me direct to the customs agent—the

prisoner's duty was to send me immediately on receipt of money a slip notifying that he had received it—these are the slips for 1904 (Produced)—there is nothing at all on the slip as to what has happened to the money; the only thing he had to do with them was to pay them into the bank, and I should know that—provided there were payments daily, they would be sent to me daily—except for these I had no other means of knowing what monies the prisoner received in Paris—he never accounted for the receipt of £146 15s. 6d. from Baron Robert de Rothschild, nor for any account of £160 0s. 7d. from M. Jean Stern, or for £35 11s. from H. A. Vanbergen, and I did not at any time in 1904 make entries of those payments in the Paris Cash Account as he had not informed me that they had been paid—he knew that this Paris Cash Account was kept by me in London and that I made entries in it, so far as the receipts of cash were concerned, from his slips, because occasionally one might be missing, as I should find out from the passbook, and I should write, and he would send me the slip to account for that one—when he came to London he did not go through the Paris Cash Account with me personally, but went through this ledger (Produced) to vouch for the validity of the balances in it—the items made in the ledger are in part from the Paris Cash Account—the last time he went through it with me personally was on April 5th, 1904—there are some entries in marginal notes in the handwriting of Harry Honeyball—in December there was some correspondence between him and myself about my going to Paris for the purpose of going through the accounts with him, and the final letter was that I would postpone going until February, at his suggestion—I had not seen him personally in September for a sufficiently long time to go through his accounts; he was on his holidays and I saw him just as he was passing through London, and when he had returned from his holidays I had not returned to Town and I missed the opportunity of going through the ledger that I should have had—he wrote and said that on further consideration, if I were not coming over immediately, he would himself come to London, and I wired that I would not come until February—the next communication I had from him was this letter (Produced) delivered to me on January 14th by a messenger from the Langham Hotel, where he was staying, asking me to go and see him there—I sent a verbal message to say that if he wished to see me he could do so in Saville Row before 11 o'clock, as I had an appointment—he came about 10.30 a.m., and after the usual salutations I motioned him into one of the private rooms and asked him what was the meaning of this and he said, "I have made an ass of myself"—I asked him what he had done and he told me after some rather rambling remarks that he had received 18,000 francs, for which he had not accounted, and he gave me a list (Ex. A.) of the names of customers who had paid their accounts of which I had not been informed—in English money those accounts amount to £745 5s. 6d., and there are two of them which have the names and amounts transposed—I said that I might not have been surprised to hear that he had made an ass of himself, but it was a very different thing for him to come and confess

to me that he was a thief, and that this was a matter with which I, personally, could not deal, and that I should have to send for the police—before doing that I sent for my partner and told him whit the prisoner hid said, and we sent for the police—Sergeant Tapper and then Inspector Drew came—I stated the facts as far as I knew them to Inspector Drew and left the matter to him.

Cross-examined. After the prisoner had paid the monies he had received into the bank, and informed me that he had done so, his immediate duty was then at an end—he had other duties connected with cash; to account to me for the expenses which we stood at in Paris—there are slips here for February 12th and 13th, 1904, and the complaint is that upon February 12th he did not make the entry of the £145 15s. 6d., Baron de Rothschild's account—I received that slip through the post in London on the following morning—I subsequently compare the entries derived from those slips with the pass-book, and if there were any discrepancies I would have to call upon him to explain them; it would not be correct to say that his duties were completed when those slips were sent, because I have to refer to him to check them with the passbook—he was a very successful agent in a business capacity; when he took up the agency the gross receipts were about £2,000 per annum, and in the five or six years that he worked for us he raised the turnover to something like £7,000 per annum—with the exception, of course, of the suspicion I had: on receiving the letter stating that if I did not come over he would come to London immediately; on his arrival in London there was no suspicion of anything being wrong, he came voluntarily from France into the jurisdiction here—he explained that he had lent the money to a friend and showed me an I.O.U. for 18,000 francs; no mention was made of bills; I understood that he had had no benefit himself—I did not understand that his object in coming to me was to make some proposition with a view to replacing the money—while I was waiting for Inspector Drew to come he said, "I did not think you would have done this"—I said, "Well, what would you have supposed me to have done?"—he supposed that I would have given him some time in which to repay it, but I did not entertain that for a minute.

Re-examined. I find that there is a slip here for March 25th, the next March 30th, and the next April 7th—I find also a slip for December 15th—he also sent me with the slip a covering letter, and the same remark about the slips coming daily would apply to the letters—we have got any amount that we have received from him—I have looked through all the letters, and I can find no statement with regard to these particular sums—his letters generally began, "Enclosed payments." which referred to the slips—he would send a summary of the orders he received during every week—in the course of business if any cheque required endorsement it was sent to London—the ledger shows the exact state of the customers, accounts, and he has been through this ledger with me, but I cannot give you any definite date—he has seen the Paris Cash Account open in my presence.

HENRY HONEYBALL . I am a clerk to Sandon & Co., of 8, Saville Row—

I know the Paris Cash Account which is kept by Mr. Moore—I know the prisoner—he went through that book with me in August last year; he called item by item from the Credit Lyonnais vouchers, and also from the private book he had—he queried no items that were in this Paris Cash Account, but three items that he had in his book that were not in this book, and I made a note of them, two in May and one in July, in it—I understood him to say that they were payments he had received, and which he had sent straight through to the London house instead of paying them into the bank—they turned out to be cheques which required endorsement—they appeared in the ledger, but the sums were not credited in the Paris Cash Account—to my recollection he did not call attention to the fact that there were no entries of the payment by Baron Robert de Rothschild of £146 15s. 6d., nor by M. Jean Stern of £160 0s. 7d.—I made notes of what he called my attention to, and there is no note of them—that was the last time I saw him.

EDWARD DREW (Inspector C.) At the Vine Street police station on the morning of January 14th I received a message, and I went to 8, Saville Row, about 11.30 a.m., where I saw Mr. Moore, who made a statement to me, and handed me a list of accounts (Ex. A)—I saw the prisoner and told him that Mr. Moore had told me that he had given himself up on a charge of embezzling £700 received by him on behalf of the firm—he said, "It is quite right," and added, "The amount was £745. I am very sorry indeed, but, whatever the result of this case is, I shall in due course pay back every penny I have had"—I then showed him the list I had received from Mr. Moore of monies alleged to have been embezzled, and he said, "That is a list of the monies I have received; I wrote it myself before I came here. I have lent the money to a gentleman in Paris for stockbroking purposes to pay his debts. He told me he had to pay 10,000 francs. It has been going on now since February 26th last"—I took him to Vine Street police station, where he was charged, and upon being searched he had a sovereign in gold, a French 50-franc note, 5s. in silver, a French pawnticket for a ring, and this I.O.U., dated February 26th, 1904, signed by a man named Barber, whom he said he had lent the money to (Ex. L).

MR. GILL submitted that there was no evidence of the commission within the jurisdiction of the COURT of the offences charged in the indictment; that as regards the omissions from the slips, they were made in Paris, and as regards the omission entries in the Paris Cash Account, the prisoner did not concur in those omissions (Reg. v. Butt, 15 Cox; Reg. v.Rogers, 32 Q.B.D.; Reg. v. Ellis Law Reports, 1899, 1 Q.B.D.; Reg. v. Keyn. 2 Excheq. Div., vol 63.)The facts being admitted, the COURT decided to cite a cast to the Court of Crown Cases Reserved. GUILTY . Judgment respited.

ESSEX CASES

Before Mr. Justice Darling.

Old Court, March 8th and 9th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-276

276. CLARA HLLDEBRAND (23) , Indicted for and charged on the Owner's inquisition with the wilful murder of her newly-born female child.

MR. BODKIN and MR. PERCIVAL CLARKE Prosecuted; MR. GRANTHM

and MR. JONES Defended.

Frederick Humphreys (Sergeant J.R. 4) produced and proved a plan of 120, Ashville Road, Leytonstone.

LOUISA CATCHPOLE . I am the wife of Robert William Catchpole, of 130, Ashville Road—the prisoner is my sister; she is single, and up to the end of last November she had been in the service of Mrs. Bains in Stratford Street, Blackfriars—she came to live at my house about November 25th, and remained with me till January 14th—she had a little room at the back of Mrs. Nix's on the first floor—I and my husband occupied the room downstairs—on January 13th I had a baby which was about a fortnight old—I noticed that the prisoner was getting stout—I said, "Clara, you look rather stout"—she made no answer—between I and 2 a.m. on January 14th she came to my room and said, "Have you got such a thing as a little drop of gin, Louie?"—I said, "No, Clara, I have not. I have got a little drop of warm tea in the pot"—she said she felt bad, as if she was going to die—she went straight out of my room; I could not hear where she went—about five minutes afterwards she came back for some matches; she came back and returned the matches and I noticed that her right hand was covered with blood—between her borrowing the matches and her returning them I heard a baby cry—it seemed as if it was against the kitchen door on the ground floor; there is a little passage form my room to the kitchen—I had my baby with me; she did not cry—the cry I heard was one long cry—I also heard the back door, which leads into the yard, shut—I think that is the only other sound I heard—when the prisoner returned with the matches, I said, "I heard a baby cry"—she said, "You did not, Louie; it was the cat I sat on that you heard cry"—when I heard the cry I roused my husband, who was with me in my room—I got up and put on my skirt and coat and stockings, and went out—I took my lamp with me—I saw some blood on the passage floor and against the foot of my bed—I called out to the prisoner, who was going upstairs, "Clara, come down to wipe up this mess. Whatever have you done?"—it struck me that she had had a baby—she came down and said, "There is nothing more unusual, Louie"—the blood was in clots—and she picked them up and put them on her apron, which was in her left hand—the kitchen floor was all wet and had been wiped up as if it had been washed—in the scullery beyond the kitchen there is a sink, and in it there was a brown bowl, yellow inside with pale bloody water in it and an ordinary dinner-fork with curls down it; it was not a carving-fork—after a little while my husband came down and took the prisoner to her

room—while the prisoner was living with me I did her washing twice—I never had any diapers to wash for her—I never saw any preparation by her for a confinement.

Cross-examined. The light had not been left burning in the kitchen; it is lighted by a hanging lamp—I took my lamp with me to the kitchen; until then it was quit;, dark—as far as I know, nobody in the house noticed that the prisoner was in the family way—she came into my room at 2,30 a.m. three times, and each time after rather a short interval, so the confinement must have been very quick indeed—some women burn their diapers instead of having them washed—the prisoner has told me that she burned hers—on the Thursday before the child was born she went to see about another situation, and she told me she was going in on the following Tuesday as a general servant.—the person who was expecting her came to my house to see why she had not arrived—the prisoner asked me for some gin on the Friday night, which is often taken by women who are having their monthly periods—the fork was Mrs. Nix's; she is the landlady—she may have used it the previous night for tea or supper.

ALICE MAUD MARY NIX . I am the wife of William Henry Nix, of 120, Ashville Road, Leytonstone—I knew the prisoner before last November and that she was Mrs. Catchpole's sister—in November she came to lodge at my house and used the little back room which opened out of mine, which is on the first floor—I noticed in November that she was a little bit stout—I think it was one night about a week or two before this day, when she was undressing in my bedroom—I cannot say how long after she first came to my house—I told her I thought she was rather stout, more so than she ought to be for a young woman—she said, "There is nothing the matter with me"—previously I had asked her if she had ever gone wrong and she said, "No, Mrs. Nix"—I don't think I spoke to her on any other occasion about her stoutness—I remember her being indoors during the day of January 13th—about one o'clock she complained that she had come on unwell and asked me if I had any cloves to give her to eat—she had some and I believe she put them in hot water and then drank it—this took place in the kitchen—she was mostly on the couch in the kitchen—I advised her to go upstairs and rest herself as she complained of her legs being bad—she said, "I would rather sit here, Mrs. Nix, if I am not in your way, because it is rather cold upstairs"—she remained in the kitchen till 8 or 9 p.m.—between 9 and 9.30 a young man came to see her and stayed in the kitchen till nearly 10.30—after he left I and the rest of us went to bed—Mr. Nix went up first and then I and the prisoner followed about 10.45—she went up to my room and then to her own—she did not then say that she felt unwell—Mr. Nix slept in the front room with a little boy—I was in the other room with a little girl and the prisoner in the back—she had to go through my room to get to her own—about 1 a.m. I heard her in her room complaining about being ill—she said, "I feel so bad, I feel so ill, I feel as if I was dying"—I was lying in bed and asked her if she was in pain, as if so I would get her a cup of tea—she said she was not—she then complained of being in pain and I again asked her if I should get her a cup of tea—she said, "No, Mrs. Nix; you

lie there, I shall be better presently"—a little while after she said she must go downstairs—she came to my room—I advised her not to go down, as I could hear fog signals going and it seemed a bad morning—the railway goes at the back of our house—she went back to her room—a little while afterwards she wanted to go downstairs and she went—she did not take no light with her—I had a small lamp in my room—it sounded it if she went out at the back—I am almost sure I heard the back door shut as she was coming back again—the next I heard was when she came ape airs and went into her own room—I do not remember speaking to her as she came through—a little while after she came into my room and asked for my lamp because she felt so nervous and so ill and bad, because her stepmother had boxed her ears on the Wednesday night and she felt unwell—she took the lamp of! the mantelpiece and went back to her room again—as she was so nervous I asked if I should go and lie beside her—she said, "No, Mrs. Nix, I shall be better presently"—she when downstairs again, saying she was going to ask her sister if she had a drop of gin—I see her pass and I heard voices—I heard no other sounds then—she came up to my room again and lay on the foot of my bed for a minute or two—she then said, "I cannot stop here," and went downstairs—I could not hear what part of the house she went to—I heard a lamp glass shake as she lit a lamp and then I heard the cry of a baby—there was only one cry—at first I thought it was her liter's baby—it was rather a strong cry—as far as I knew, Mrs. Catchpole's baby was the only one in the house—I cannot say from what part of the house the cry came—I then heard Mrs. Catch pole call up the stain to the prisoner to come down—before that I heard splashing of water like water running, and the backyard door open and shut—Mrs. Catchpole called out, "Come down, Clara, and clear up this mess"—the prisoner was then in my room but I did not see her come in—she did not answer Mrs. Catchpole—I said to the prisoner," By what I can hear your sister saying you have had a miscarriage; have you or have you not?"—she said she was surprised at me and her sister accusing her of having such a thing, as she was only more unwell than usual—she went downstairs when her sister called—I got up and went down—I did not see any blood marks in my room, but towards the bottom of the stairs I did—the prisoner was standing at the foot of the stairs, holding a white apron covered in blood—I said to her, "There must be something wrong"—she said, "There is nothing wrong"—I referred to the blood on her apron—I went into the kitchen with her sister's lamp and saw that the oilcloth had been washed over—I asked what the mess was—the prisoner said she had been sick and had cleared it up—I said, "I thought I heard the cry of a baby"—she said, "No, Mrs. Nix, it was the cat you heard cry; I sat on it"—the cat was then on the couch—I went into the scullery and saw splashes of Wood on the wall, on the wood work, and in the passage from the kitchen to the scullery—in the sink I saw a basin lined with yellow, and pale Wood and water in it and also this fork (Produced); it is an ordinary dinner fork; it had not been there before—I said to the prisoner, "You have had a child and done away with it, and killed it with a fork"—I thought she

had killed it—I said. "Where have you put it?"—she said, "I have not had a child"—I told Mrs. Catchpole to go and fetch her husband—she went towards the front parlour to fetch him—I remained in the kitchen with Clara—she got hold of my hands and said, "Pray forgive me, Mrs. Nix, I have had a child"—I said, "You wicked girl, where have you put it?"—she said, "I have put it in the rabbit hutch next to the closet"—she then went into the passage towards the kitchen—by that time Mrs. Catchpole had come back from her room—my husband had got up and was standing at the top of the stairs—I said, so that the prisoner could hear, "For God's sake, Will, come down quick; this girl has had a child and done away with it"—I do not remember if he came down directly—I told the prisoner she must go upstairs and I asked Mr. Catchpole to take her up and I followed behind with the lamp—as I was going towards my husband's bedroom she said, "Mrs. Nix, I want you. I have not put the baby in the rabbit hutch, I have put it down the water closet"—shortly afterwards the police and the doctor came—I did not have any further conversation with the prisoner before they arrived.

Cross-examined. The prisoner may have said, "I have put it in the water closet"; I cannot say for certain—it is a small V-shaped pan—the prisoner slept in the room adjoining mine all the seven weeks that she was at the house—all that time she would have to go by my room and by my bed to get to her own room—it was the rule for her to go about in the day in a scarlet petticoat, combinations and a grey ulster—I have seen her undress—sometimes she would not take her petticoat and combinations off until she got into her own room—the cat was mine—it sometimes slept on the couch—the prisoner complained of her right leg hurting her—I have eight children—I do not know if it is usual when a woman is carrying a child that it is the left leg which generally gives pain—the prisoner complained of costiveness on the Friday night—when she said she was going to the lavatory I understood she was going to relieve herself—I had no idea then that she was going to be confined—that night she had on her scarlet petticoat, her combinations and a red blouse—she had not got her Ulster on except when I saw her with the lamp—women sometimes are unwell right up to the birth of the child—I was with my first child, and the doctor said it was extreme weakness—I cannot swear that I was like that right up to the time, but I had to go to the doctor's.

By the COURT. I asked the prisoner if she would go to the hospital, because she looked to me rather stouter in the stomach than she ought to have been—she said there was nothing the matter with her and she had never gone wrong—I thought perhaps she had a tumor or a cancer growing—she would not go to the hospital—I think that was after Christmas—it must have been, because her sister was confined—I thought the prisoner might be in the family wav because of her stoutness.

WILLIAM HENRT NIX . I am the husband of the last witness and live at 120, Ashville Road, Leytonstone—I remember the prisoner coming on live at ray house on November 25th—I saw her daily, and I noticed afterwards that her figure was a little bit different to what a girl in good health should be—on January 13th I went up to bed about 10.45, and

was awakened about 2 a.m. by a lot of voices downstairs—I slept in the front room, upstairs—I lay in bed listening and I thought something was the matter—I heard my wife's voice—I went downstairs—my wife distincted the prisoner to go upstairs—I ultimately went out to the water closet at the back and saw in the pan the naked body of a newly-born child—I left it there and went for the police—I returned with an officer, who took it from the pan—I did not see where he took it—the child was apparently dead—the kitchen floor had recently been washed; it was a wooden floor with linoleum over it—a little bit which had not been washed was stained and smeary with what appeared to be blood—that was in front of the couch—I saw blood on the couch, and on a lot of old linen, and in the kitchen and backyard—this chopper (Produced) was usually kept in the kitchen table drawer—it was there on the 13th when I went to bed, and the drawer was then closed—when I came down next morning I noticed that it was half open and bloodstained—I found the chopper against the wall in the water closet; there was blood on the head of it—I did not see any on the sharp edge—I think I should have seen it if some had been there—when I found it in the water closet there was a little drop of blood on it in one corner.

Cross-examined. The scullery has an uncovered wooden floor—the kitchen floor is covered with linoleum—in the kitchen there were spots of blood as if some had dropped.

HENRY GENTRY (76 J.) At 2.45 a.m. on January 14th I was called to 120, Ashville Road, by Mrs. Nix—I went into the kitchen, scullery and back yard—I noticed stains of blood on the floors and in the yard—near the safe, in the kitchen, the floor looked as if it had been recently wiped—in the pan of the water closet I found the nude body of a newly-born female child; the pan was otherwise clean—another officer was with me and he lifted the body out—it was apparently dead, but was quite warm—it had scratches on its back and right side, and a large bruise over its left-eye—the body was curled round in the pan with its knees pressed into its chest—I cannot say if it had been firmly pressed there or accidentally placed there—the officer who lifted it out did not have any difficulty in doing so—I sent him for the doctor while I remained at the house—I went upstairs to the back room occupied by the prisoner, whom I saw—she spoke first and said, "You have not come to take me away, policeman, have you? I have not done murder"—I said, "The dead body of a child has been found in the pan of a water closet downstairs, which I have reason to believe is yours. I should advise you to be careful what you say, for whatever is said may probably be used later in evidence against you"—she afterwards said, I gave birth to my child in the kitchen and took it to the lavatory. I laid it on the seat while I cleaned up the mess; it must have fallen in. I had not been to the back for two or three days, and in straining to go the child came. I have seen things a little every month and did not know I was like that. I was assaulted by a man in a train between Broad stairs and Chatham in June. I do not know who he is"—Dr. McGregor arrived and the prisoner was taken to the infirmary and the body of the child removed to the mortuary—I examined the

premises and found this chopper standing by the side of the water closet wall—there was a blood stain on the back of the head and a small one on the handle—the handle of the kitchen door also had bloodstains on it—I was present on "January 30th when the prisoner was charged with murder—she said, in reply, "I am exceedingly sorry. I did not mean to murder the child, but I was so worried I did not know what I was doing"—there was no blood on the seat of the closet—when I first saw the child it had no blood upon it and was perfectly clean.

Cross-examined. I should not expect, therefore, to find any blood on the seat—the yard is an ordinary one, paved with bricks and flags and odd pieces of stone—I do not think there was any blood near the bruise on the child's eye.

PATRICK MCGREGOR . I am a registered medical practitioner, practising at Leytonstone—on January 14th I was called about 3.40 a.m. to 120. Ashfield Road—I saw the prisoner therein bed—I examined her and found she had quite recently been confined and that some blood was still coming from her—I removed the afterbirth and she was subsequently sent to the infirmary in an ambulance—I examined the body of the child—it was a newly born female child and had been dead about an hour—it was still slightly warm—it is very difficult to give an exact opinion as to the time—it was a fully-developed and a full-time child—two inches of the umbilical cord were still attached to it—it had not been tied—I am not able to say precisely how it had been severed, but I believe by some very blunt instrument or possibly it may have been torn—the other portion of the cord was from 14 to 16 inches, but I did not measure it—that would be about the normal length—the child's body had been partially washed; on the back of its right shoulder there were some small scratches as if the body had been pulled over a rough floor—I described them as scraped scratches and dirty-looking—there was dirt in them—across its chest there was a superficial scratch about three inches long and rather deeper than the back scratch—it was red, and blood had been washed away—in my opinion some sharp instrument caused it—it may have been the fork which I saw in the basin—it was something bigger than an ordinary pin—there was a little rubbing of the skin on the right knee—above the left eye there was a large bruise which extended downwards towards the left ear, and there was, in addition, a large bruise extending from over the left temple to the ear and cheek, where there was a small abrasion—it occupied the whole side of the child's head—the abrasion over the left eyebrow was about 1 1/2 inches long by 3/4 inch wide—there was blood-stained or watery blood serum which had come from both of those abrasions—the bones beneath the area of bruising were broken and felt quite pulpy—on January 17th I made a post-mortem examination—I found that the weight and size of the body were that of an ordinary child—the internal organs were healthy and the stomach empty—under the scalp on the left side there was a large clot of blood and more extensive than the area of bruising—the frontal bone was broken into five pieces—one piece was quite detached and brain matter was oozing out through the orifice—the left parietal bone and the temporal

bones were broken in two places—the injury which caused those fractures was the cause of death—the child died of shock caused by injury to the brain and by haemorrhage as a result of those injuries—I believe the fractures could all have been done at once with one blow—the only opinion I could form as to how the injuries had been caused was that it had been caused by direct violence with a blunt instrument—a severe blow with the blunt side of this chopper could have caused them—the abrasion above the left eyebrow had a similar shape to the head of the chopper—the bones of the head of a newly-born child would be very gelatinous—I examined the child's lungs—they were healthy and contained air—I put both lungs with their attachments in water at a temperature of 60 degrees and I found they floated—I cut them in small pieces and pressed them with my thumb against the table as hard as I could—I put them into the basin and they floated—that satisfied me that they contained air, and they appeared to me to have been fully inflated—in my opinion the child had lived and had had a separate existence and circulation—its heart had acted.

Cross-examined. I cannot tell if the child lived for half a minute—I did not compare the wounds of the head with anything in the house—ell I can say is that they might have been caused by something like this hatchet—the injuries would not be accounted for by the child falling, on the floor if it had been a delivery in a standing position—the locality of the wound on the head was consistent with that theory—I said before the Magistrate that any blunt instrument would have caused the wounds on the head and I cannot think of any blunt instrument which would not have caused them—the bones of a child just born are not at all strong and they are very thin, but they are very gelatinous—a young child's head will stand a good deal—I think the edge of a table or something, like that would cause the wounds on the head, but the violence would, be great—if the prisoner in the dark was dragging the child by the arm or leg and its head struck such an object as the corner of a table with great violence, the injuries I found might have been caused thereby—some of the scratches on the child's body were as if it had been dragged—I do not suggest that the fork had anything to do with the child's-death—I do not think that the blood on the hatchet came from the abrasion on the left of the child's head—where women have never had a child before there is a possibility in cases of this nature, and especially in illegitimate pregnancy, that an occurrence of transitory mania may be followed by loss of memory of events at this period—loss of memory may follow any confinement—I would not say as to illegitimate pregnancy—I should say especially to first labours, whether they were illegitimate or not.

Re-examined. The scratches on the shoulder were not severe—the most likely explanation of their being caused is that the body was dragged on the floor—I cannot say if it was a lengthened dragging—I cannot say if the suggestion that the injury to the left side of the head was caused by the child being dragged by the leg or arm, and being banged against the table or anything else, or if the scratches fit in with that suggestion—

I am quite sure that the child being born from a standing woman and falling would not cause the injuries I found—I went into the kitchen on this night, and have in my mind the position of the couch—taking a course from the couch to the door in the scullery, I think the table would be in the way—I noticed spots of blood on the leg of the table just where the floor had been washed up, and on the couch side—I can hardly conceive the table leg causing the injury—I think it was a square leg—if the table was upside down, and the leg sticking up in the air it might have caused the injury—the abrasion had two right angles with about 18 inches between them—I have not measured the distance between the right angles on the two edges of the chopper, but I should say it is about 1 1/2 inches—leaving the upturned table out of it, I do not think there is anything between the couch and the door which could inflict the injuries—the table was on its legs when I saw it—a person suffering from transitory mania shows symptoms at the time—I should expect to find them wild and excited, eyes staring, and manner altogether strange for the time being—a person in that condition is not able to think or to know what he or she may be doing—I do not think that the concealment of the body of a child recently born would be the act of a person suffering from transitory mania—it generally comes on after the last pain and before the child is born—it is the pain acting on the nerves of a woman; that is why it is called transitory—it does not last long—it is not dignified by the phrase of mania except in extreme cases, where a person did some damage to herself or her child—puerperal mania comes on afterwards—when T saw the prisoner she was sobbing—I did not speak to her—I cannot say whether she was suffering from transitory mania or not.

By MR. GRANTHAM. A newly-born child is slippery or slimy.

GEORGE WALLACE (Inspector J.) On January 30th, at 10.20, I went with another officer to West Ham Infirmary, and saw the prisoner—I said to her, "I am a police officer, and shall arrest you for the wilful murder of your newly-born female child on the early morning of January 14th. You need not say anything unless you like, but what you do say I shall take down in writing, and it may be given in evidence against you later"—she said, "I thoroughly understand"—she was then taken to the police station, where she was formerly charged—she said, "I am exceedingly sorry. I did not mean to murder the child, but I was so worried I did not know what I was doing."

GUILTY of manslaughter. Twelve months' imprisonment.

Reference Number: t19050306-277

277. MARY HOLLAND (32), otherwise MARY ELIZABETH CAMERON , Indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's inquisition with, the manslaughter of Dorothy Francis Cameron.

MR. A. HUTTON and MR. FORDHAM Prosecuted; MR. PETER GRAIN

Defended

ELIZABETH ASH . I am the wife of William Ash, of 4, Prince of Wales Road, Custom House—on December 31st, 1904, about 10.30 p.m., I was

in Victoria Dock Road—I saw the prisoner with a baby in her arms coming from a tram or' bus—she asked me if I could find her a lodging—I took her with me up the street, and took her to a house, but it was full, and I brought her home with me—she said she came home with me as her husband's ship was coming in the dock that night or next day—I saw the child; it was very ill—I am married and have children—it was noticeable to anyone that the child was ill—I kept saying to the prisoner that the child ought to see the doctor; it had some milk, and tea, and some beer—the prisoner gave it the beer—I said none of my children never had any beer—next day I said she should go and see a doctor—she said perhaps she would to-morrow—she went out and came back and said she had not been to a doctor—next day, January 3rd, I gave her 2s. to go to Dr. Taylor with the baby—she went about 12.30, and returned about 3.45 p.m.—the child was very ill, and in a dying condition—during those two or three days I noticed it was very dirty—I saw vermin and sores all about—I asked the prisoner if she would have some hot water to wash herself with—she said she did not require it—it was obvious that the child wanted washing.

Cross-examined. When I first met her she was not destitute—she had 2s. and she told me she had some papers on her to get money with, but I never seen them—she remained over a week with me—she did not look very grand herself; she did not look so well as she does now.

WILLIAM CHARLES TAYLOR . I am a medical man, of 291, Victoria Dock Road—on January 3rd I remember the prisoner bringing a child between one and two years old to me—I examined it about 3 p.m.—I said to the prisoner, "What is this terrible stench?"—she removed the bonnet, and then I discovered that the head was covered with thick yellow scurf, the hair looking very unhealthy, and smelling very badly—it was caused by vermin—ordinary soap and water at the very commencement might have kept it clean—if it had had proper attention at the beginning, it would not have occurred—the vermin certainly caused the child unnecessary suffering—the prisoner inquired of me if she could get the child into an institution—and I gave her a letter to the London Hospital—she came back soon afterwards with the child, which was then dead—the following afternoon I made a post-mortem examination—the body was slightly', but not excessively, emaciated—there was some vermin on the upper part of the chest, and at the back of the shoulders there were about a dozen small sores and abrasions, the largest of them being about the size of a 3d. piece, undoubtedly due to the irritation caused by the vermin—the head was found to be full of vermin—I think death was due to bronchial pneumonia, accelerated by neglect—the stomach and the intestines were absolutely empty—there was no evidence to show that the child had been fed at all—carrying it about by day and night would be injurious.

Cross-examined. Washing the child's head in the state I saw it would not have done it any good; it would have required a long treatment to make it well—the prisoner said she had been on a voyage from Norway, and a sailor had given her some ointment to put on the child's head—I could see no signs of any ointment—the pneumonia had been going on for

some time and went on up to the child's death—pneumonia might he Caused by some infectious disease, such as fever, but exposure is the commonest cause—the child's stomach was perfectly healthy—there was still a thin layer of fat between the flesh and the muscles—I do not think any amount of care or feeding would have saved its life at the time I saw it—I doubt if any amount of medical care would have done it any good then, but as the prisoner asked to have it taken into some institution, I thought as she had allowed it to get into such a state it would do it good to have it treated.

ALICE SMITH . I live at Toronto Road, Tilbury Dock—some month's ago the prisoner came to my house with a girl which she said was three years old—she arrived by the midnight train—she slept at my house, and stayed until 12.30 on Sunday—I could see the child was in a filthy condition—the bedding that the prisoner had used had to be destroyed.

Cross-examined. The prisoner did not seem to be destitute when I saw her—she said her husband would be back, and then she would pay her lodging—she did not pay for it—her husband did not come—I went to buy some food, but she did not have it, because she said she would have it on board ship—she looked in fairly good health, and better than she does now.

EMMA ALICE WILSON . I live at 5, West Street, Gravesend—my husband keeps a coffee shop—I remember December 12th and 15th—the prisoner stayed with us for two nights—she had her child with her, about two years old—I did not examine its body—on the second morning the prisoner said the child when an instrument over its back, and she would show it to me that night—I did not see the child undressed, but it smelt very nasty, and its clothes were very dirty—she left behind a little white tippet belonging to the child.

Cross-examined. She came to my house the first night at 10.30—she did not say she had been walking about the whole day—she did not appear as if she had been doing so—she did not say what she had been doing—she looked tired—she had a little money, with which she paid for her lodgings—she had a little soup, and gave the child some—she did not appear to be destitute—she was dressed fairly smart.

EDWARD DAVY (Constable, Essex Police). I have known the prisoner about nine years—I remember seeing her about 12 p.m. on December 17th at Tilbury—I asked her where she was going as she had a child with her, which was crying bitterly—she said she was going to walk about if she could not get lodgings—I told her she would have to get a lodging for the child as it looked very ill; she said she would if she could—I followed her to see if she did so—she went to a greengrocer's who recommended her to Mrs. Ladbrook, and I see her go in.

Cross-examined. I did not recommend her to anyone, because she has been to the same place so many times, and has got lodgings through the recommendation of the police, and robbed the persons and gone away, that I was afraid.

By the COURT. The nearest workhouse was four or five miles away—if she had said, "I cannot get lodgings, I am destitute," I should have taken her to the overseer of the place, and she would have been conveyed to the workhouse.

MARTHA LADBROOK . I live at 21, Toronto Road, Tilbury—on December 18th the prisoner came to my house between 12 and 12.15 a.m.—she had a child with her, and asked if I could oblige her with lodgings—I said I did not take in lady lodgers as a rule, as it gave the house a bad name, but I took her in on account of the child—I did not notice that the child was dirty or she would not have slept in my bed—in the morning the baby came into my kitchen, and I picked it up to show to one of the men, and I smelt a horrible stench like dirty water—I put it down and just raised its hat up and I see its head was full of vermin—I said to the prisoner that it looked as if it was queer—she said it enjoyed good health as a rule—I said, "The poor little thing looks half-starved"—she did not make any remark to that, and on Sunday morning I asked her if she would have some hot water to wash the baby with—she said, "No, I can manage without hot water"—I said, "I would not like to wash a baby of mine with cold water at this time of the year"—I do not know if she washed it—I asked her on the Sunday night if she would have some milk, and she said, "No."

Cross-examined. She did not give the baby any Ridge's food while she was with me—I made some toast and tea and I had some eggs and bacon, but 1 do not think the prisoner had any.

CHARLES HUTTON (Detective-Sergeant). On March 2nd I charged the prisoner with manslaughter—I said, "I was present at an inquest held at the Public Hall, Barking Road, on January 20th, when a verdict of manslaughter was returned against you for causing the death of your child"—she said, "I did not kill the child; I took it to a doctor's, and he told me to take it to the hospital"—she was afterwards charged, and taken to the station.

The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she had been divorced for four or five years, and had since then entirely maintained herself; that she had tried to earn her living, but, having the baby, could not do much; that she fed the child as well as she could, but was often short of money, and had often insufficient food herself; that she went to the doctor and was on the way to the hospital when the child died.

NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Recorder.

Old Court, March 6th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-278

278. JOHN EDWARDS (50), PLEADED GUILTY . to breaking and entering the dwelling house of William Claydon with intent to steal his goods, having been convicted of felony at Newington on June 12th, 1901, as Thomas Driscoll. It was stated that the prisoner had 364 days still to serve, and had been continuously in prison or penal servitude since 1872. Twelve months, hard labour.

New Court, March 8th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-56

279 WILLIAM READ (25), and MARY ANN INGATE (27) , Robbery with violence upon John Newton Spender, and stealing from him a watch, a chain, and a pipe.

MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.

JOHN NEWTON SPENCER . I am an engineer, of 93, Cundy Road, Customs House—on February 7th I was in Freemason's Road, Customs House late at night—I had on me a watch, a chain, and a pipe—I do not remember—anything about the robbery—I do not remember being knocked down—when I had the chain on, it was not in the state it is now—I was drunk—when I came to my senses I found myself at the police station.

Cross-examined by Ingate. I do not remember knocking at any door.

ALEXANDER CONNELLY (6 K.R.) At 11.15 p.m. on February 7th I was in the Freemason's Road, Customs House, in plain clothes—I saw the prosecutor—he was very drunk—I saw two men following him—I cannot say whether Read was one of them—they were both fully dressed—they quietly pushed the prosecutor round into Martin Road from Freemason's Road—I directed Constable Greenwood to follow him—I shortly after heard some shouting—I saw Read running towards me—I tried to catch him, but he got away—Greenwood caught him in the doorway of 94, Martin Road, where the prisoners live—about forty or fifty yards on the line the prisoner took towards me I found this watch and chain—the chain was in three pieces—there was nobody else about—Read, at the time of his arrest, was dressed in shirt, trousers, and canvas shoes only.

Cross-examined by Read. I did not say that I arrested you.

Ingate: "I didn't do nothing:'

JIM GREENWOOD (616 K.) On February 7th I received instructions from Connelly, and followed the prosecutor into Martin Road—I know the prisoners—they live in that road—they are brother and sister—I saw Ingate accost the prosecutor—she asked him if he was going to have a short time—he said he did not want anything to do with her at all—I was in plain clothes and about 20 feet from them—Read then came up behind the man and hit him on the back of his head, and knocked him down into the road—I then saw both prisoners lean over him—I ran towards them, and they ran away—I caught Read at 94, Martin Road, as he was going into the house—I never lost sigh t of him the whole time—he was wearing his shirt and trousers only.

Cross-examined by Read. You had the prosecutor's pipe in your hand when I arrested you.

GEORGE AYRES (78 K.) At 11.15 on the evening in question I was in charge of the police station when Read was brought in—when charged, he said, "I hit him, but did not rob him"—Greenwood said in the prisoner's hearing that he found this pipe on Read—the watch and chain were brought to the station later by Connelly.

REUBEN BARCOCK (195 K.) Shortly before 6 on February 8th I went to 94, Martin Road, Customs House—the door was opened by Ingate—I said to her, "You know who I am; you know I am a police officer"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with a man named Read last night in robbing a man in Martin Road"—she said, "Yes, half a mo, let me put on my f—boots"—I said, "Where are your boots?"—she said, "Up in the b——kitchen"—she went and fetched them—I followed her, and then took her to the station—when

charged, she said, "Yes, I was with any brother last night, but where is the man I robbed?"

Read's statement before the Magistrate: "On February 7th I was in bed about half-past eleven when the prosecutor came to the door and knocked two knocks. My sister Ingate opened the door, and as soon as she did so the prosecutor hit her. I heard a scream, ran downstairs in my trousers and hit the prosecutor, and knocked him in the road. Up came Greenwood and arrested me for striking the man. Then up came Sergeant Connelly, and he also made me run 120 yards after the prosecutor, and they took me round to the station, and charged me with assaulting, and robbing the man, which I never did. The pipe and watch and chain I never saw till I saw them at the station. When the prosecutor came in the station he said, 'Where is the officer who has got my pipe?' I have no witnesses here."

Ingate's statement before the Magistrate: "I am quite innocent of what I am blamed for. I have no witnesses here."

Read, in his defence, repeated the above statement.

Evidence for the Defence.

ALICE GORLEY . I live at 61, Lee Road, Customs House—I know the prisoners—they are no relatives of mine—on February 7th, about 11.5 or 11.10 a man knocked at the door—I did not see him—Ingate looked out of the window, and asked who was there—he said, "Open the door and see"—she went down to open the door—then there was a scuffle, and Read went down—I did not go down myself—I looked out of the window, but it was very dark.

GUILTY . READ then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at West Ham Police Court on January 26th, 1904. It was stated that then were seven other convictions against him— Twelve months' hard labour. INGATE was stated to have been several times convicted of drunkenness and assaults— Nine months hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-280

280. GEORGE COMPTON (32) , Stealing fifty-six towels and twentyfour dusters, the property of the Thames Ironworks, Limited.

MR. MACKAY Prosecuted.

WALTER CHARLES CAMP . I am a storekeeper employee by the Thames Ironworks, Limited—on January 30th I went into a public-house in Burnham Street with two parcels containing towels and dusters—I put them down and went to the bar for some refreshment—I was there three or four minutes—on looking round I found the parcels were gone—a man spoke to me—the parcols were worth about £4—I did not see the prisoner.

CHARLES EDWARD WILLIAM GILL . I am a labourer—on January 30th I was in the public-house in Burnham Street about 8.40—I saw the prisoner there sitting on a seat behind the door with a man not in custody—there were two parcels lying on the floor—the prisoner and the other man got up, each took hold of the parcels which were fastened together,

and went out with them—Camp spoke to me afterwards, and I told him what I had seen—I gave information to the police—I identified the prisoner—I have known him for about four years.

Cross-examined by the prisoner, You opened the door while the other man went out.

Re-examined. There was about. 18 inches of string between the two parcels, enough room to go over the shoulders, one parcel in front and one behind—the prosecutor was in the public-house when I went in.

JAMES DUNSTALL (546 K.) From information received I went in search of the prisoner—I found him in a back room at 4, Crawford Street, Canning Town—I told him I should take him into custody on suspicion of larceny—he said, "Very well, I will go with you"—I took him to the station—he was placed with ten other men and identified by Gill—he made no reply to the charge—none of the property has been found.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I wish you to settle it here. I have no witnesses."

The prisoner, in his defence, said he had not been in the public-house in question for years, as they would not serve him, and that it was a mixed-up job.

GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at West Ham Borough Sessions, on October 9th, 1903. Three other convictions were proved against him— Nine months, hard labour.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant

New Court, March 6th, and 7th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-281

281. KATHLEEN CULLEN (18) and ALBERT WESTON (22) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully possessing three counterfeit florins and to unlawfully uttering a counterfeit florin. WESTON three months' hard labour. CULLEN discharged on recognizance's.

Reference Number: t19050306-59

282 SARAH ROWELL (24) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. BEAUMONT MORICE Prosecuted.

ROBERT CANHAM . About 9 p.m., on February 22nd, I served the prisoner with 1d. worth of cake about 9 p.m.—she tendered 1s.—I gave her 11d. change—I put the 1s. in the till, but after she had gone I examined it—on Monday, February 27th, I handed the Is. to Sergeant Marshall and identified the prisoner at Stratford Police Court from nine others.

ANNIE DENNIS . I keep a tobacconist's shop at 52, High Street, Stratford—on February 22nd, about 9.30 p.m., I served the prisoner with a packet of Woodbine cigarettes—she tendered a Is., for which I gave her 11d. change—Mrs. Savil afterwards came into the shop and said something, in consequence of which my husband looked at this Is., which was the only one in the till—he went across to another shop with it—this is the 1s.—it is bent.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. You returned me 6d. and 5d. change.

JOHN DENNIS . I am the last witness's husband—I was in the back parlour when the prisoner came into my shop—I saw her give my wife 1s. and my wife give her 6d. and 5d. change—I took the 1s. out of the till, bent it, and saw it was wrong—I saw the prisoner come out of a public-house and go over the road to Miss Cull's shop, and I went there—I saw her hand Miss Cull 1s.—I said to Miss Cull, "She has given me a bad 1s.; mind that isn't bad, "and to the prisoner, "You have given me a bad shilling"—she said, "Well, if I have I did not know it; I will give you another"—I said, "I want my change for the 1s.—she gave me 10d. and I gave her the 1s. back—the police took the 1s. from her and took her into custody.

Cross-examined. I only know of 10d.—you may have given me 1d. more.

SARAH CULL . I keep a shop at 91, High Street, Stratford—on February 22nd, between 9 and 10 p.m. I served the prisoner with 1d. worth of chocolate—she tendered 1s.—I noticed it looked bright and I was about to test it when Mr. Dennis came in and said, "Take care what money that woman has given you, she has given me a bad shilling"—I put it in the machine—it bent very easily—the prisoner said, "Give me the 1s. and I will give you Id. for the chocolate—I said "No," you don't; I will wait till I have seen a policeman. I will then see whether you have any more on you"—she said she was an unfortunate, and got it off a man she knew by sight—I said, "If you are an unfortunate that is no reason; I have worked very hard here."—I locked the shop door, with the prisoner inside, till the policeman came, when I gave him the coin and the prisoner into custody.

ELIZA JENKINS . I live at 1, Marsh Gate Lane, High Street, Stratford—on Wednesday February 22nd, between 9 and 9.30 p.m., in consequence of something my son said I went into the street and saw the prisoner in a stooping position, and a young man throwing something in her lap—another young man stood at the bottom of the street—the man then took it out of her lap and put it in his pocket—he then walked to the bottom of the street and the three went into a public-house—I went indoors and after a quarter of an hour came to Cull's shop, where I saw the prisoner taken into custody—I saw two men come out of the Marsh Gate public-house, look towards the woman and then walk sharply towards Bow.

EDWARD JONES (81 K. R.) On February 22nd, shortly after 9 pan., I was called by Cull to 91, High Street—he said, "This woman has come into my shop and called for 1d. worth of chocolate and given me this 1s. to pay for it, and it is a bad one"—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what is said about you?"—she replied, "Yes, I got the 1s. off a man over at Bow. I get my living that way"—the 1s. was handed over to me—I took her into custody—when charged at the station she made no reply—she handed me her purse, which contained 6d. silver and 4d. bronze.

JOHN MARSHALL (Detective K.) On February 24th I made enquiries at 2, Flower and Dean Street, Spitalfields, the address given by the prisoner—

no one was residing there of the name of Sarah Rowell, the address she gave at the police station on February 27th—I went to 64, High Street, where Can ham handed me this 1s., which I marked in the prisoners presence—it is dated 1879.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coins to His Majesty's Mint—these three shillings are bad—the two bent ones are from one mould and the other from a different mould.

The prisoner's statement, before the Magistrate: "I am an unfortunate girl. I had to go with a man to do wrong. That man gave me the money. I did not know the money was bad, or else I would not have done it. I do not remember going into the last shop which I am prosecuted for. I might have done. I have no witness."

The anisomery repeated this statement in defence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t19050306-283

283. WILLIAM STREETON NORTON (43) , Indecently assaulting Richard Rushton Harrison, Robert Harry Avery, Alexander Minnitt, and Cecil Stevenson, boys under the age of twelve years, and committing acts of gross indecency with them.

MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.

GUILTY but insane. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.

Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.

Third Court, March 7th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-284

284. ALBERT VINCENT (28) and THOMAS MATTHEWS (26), Breaking and entering the warehouse of William Thomas Fowler and stealing a metal steam valve and connecting rod, his property.

MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted; MR. HEADKEY Defended Vincent.

ALEXANDER MUNRO (507 K.) About 7 p.m., on January 28th, I was on duty in High Street, Plaistow, in company with Allen, when in consequence of information I went to the Plaistow Iron Works—on getting there I sent Allen to the rear whilst I went to the outside gates, and, throwing a light in one of the warehouses, I found this padlock (Produced) had been forced from the door—inside I found the prisoners—Matthews rushed at me with this bar (Produced), which is known as a connecting rod—I drew my stick and struck him on his head and knocked him to the ground—I also struck at Vincent to prevent his escaping, and he said, "All right, we are Vincents; we will be quiet"—I blew my whistle—Allen came up, and I took Vincent into custody—on getting outside I found this iron valve (Produced) on the pavement—I do not know how it got there—I found Matthews was bleeding, so he was taken to the hospital close by, and afterwards to the station—when the prisoners, were charged—Vincent said to Matthews, "Don't say anything"—Matthews said, referring to the valve, "Was that on us when they searched us? I cannot see how they can charge us with stealing it?—the prosecutor afterwards came and examined the premises.

and identified the connecting rod and valve—I know both prisoners by sight.

Cross-examined by MR. HEADLEY. The door to the warehouse, or shop, was closed—the prisoners were bending down, picking up something, when I saw them first; they were not sitting down—they were surprised to see me open the door—they were looking for bolts—Vincent did not make any attempt to strike me—no stolen property was found on him when searched.

Cross-examined by Matthews. You picked up the iron and rushed at me—I struck you between the eyes—it was dark at the time.

ALFRED ALLEN (779 K.) I was on duty with Munro on January 28th, about 7 p.m., when, in consequence of information, I went with him to Plaistow Iron works—I saw the prisoners in a stores on the factory of Mr. Thomas Fowler—they were in what Munro calls a shed, where they store bolts; it is hardly a shop, but a place built inside the factory for the purpose of storing iron work, such as nuts, bolts, and things relating to boiler works—I first went to the back of the premises, and then, hearing a noise, I got over a fence—I heard a whistle to went towards it—I saw the prisoners detained by Munro in this store—on seeing Vincent I said, "Hullo, Vincent, what are you doing here?"—he said, "It does not matter; we are here, and it is good enough for you"—I took Matthews into custody and took him to St. Mary's Hospital, and from there to the station, where he was charged.

Cross-examined by MR. HEADLEY. I came up just afterwards—the prisoners had been struck—I was going in that direction when I heard the whistle blowing; it was owing to my being delayed by not being able to pass some machinery that Munro blew his whistle.

By the COURT. I saw this connecting rod drop from Matthews' hand before I took him to the station—I afterwards went back and picked it up in the doorway exactly where he had dropped it—I put it in my pocket and took it to the station.

Cross-examined by Matthews. I sent for an ambulance for you; you said you felt faint—as a matter of fact, it did not come.

WILLIAM THOMAS FLOWER . I am the manager and proprietor of the Plaistow Iron Works, and live at 80, Stockford Road, Upton Manor—about 7.30 p.m. on January 28th I was called to my works and found that the place had been broken open; the outside gates had been forced, the iron bar had been removed, and the padlock had been removed from the door of the little warehouse—when I left that day just after 2 p.m. the doors were all locked and secured—the letter box on the gate had also been forced, and some of the letters inside had been torn up—I went over all the premises, and, as far as I could see in the darkness, that was the principal damage—I saw this valve at the station and identified it as mine—I last saw it on the top shelf of the little warehouse—this is a small connecting rod which I saw lying just on the sill of the door—there were some constables in charge of the place when I got there, and I waited till the other constable came back, when he put it in his pocket and took it away—I last saw it on the shelf in the little warehouse,

where I had placed it on the morning—I cannot swear to any particular time—it is a warehouse where I keep rivets, bolts and small prate—this is the padlock that was forced off that door (Produced).

Cross-examined by Matthews. The constable picked up the iron rod at 7.45 p.m.—we had a gas jet under the cylinder of the engine in the engine room; that was not in the workhouse—it could not possibly be seen from the outside.

By the COURT. We have not missed anything else.

Vincent's statement before the Magistrate: "I have nothing to say." Matthew's statement before the Magistrate: "I have no witnesses to call." Vincent, on his defence in oath, said that Matthews, whom he had known seven or eight years, asked him if he wanted to earn 2s. or 2s. 6d.; that he went for that purpose with him and another man, who was a perfect stranger to him, to the Plaistow Iron Works, when the stranger pushed the gates open, which were on the jar, and opened the shed, of which the door was wide open, and told him to wait there while he went to get a barrow; that while waiting the policeman came and arrested him; and that he did not know they had come there to steal.

Matthews, in his defence on oath, said that he was drinking with Vincent in a public-house when a man whom he had seen on two occasions before but did not know personally, about 3.30 to 4 p.m. asked him if he knew of a couple of men who would help him to remove some goods he had bought at a sale; that he and Vincent went to the Plaistow Iron Works with him; that on getting there the man asked them to wait in a little shed whilst he fetched a barrow: and that while waiting the police came.

GUILTY . MATTHEWS then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at West Ham Quarter Sessions on February 6th, 1903. Another conviction was proved against him— Ten months hard labour. VINCENT against whom three minor convictions were proved— Three months' hard labour.

Reference Number: t19050306-285

285. JAMES WEBSTER (29) and GEORGE BULL (28) , Stealing four fowls, the property of John Marvell.

MR. GRANTHAM Prosecuted.

WILLIAM HYDE (Detective J.) I received information on the evening of February 10th and went to the Old Mill public-house, where I saw the prisoners in the taproom—I said, "I shall arrest you two for being concerned together in stealing four fowls from the back of this house tonight—Webster said, "What, me, guv'nor? You surprise me, I do not know anything about it"—Bull said "More do I"—I took them to the station—I found nothing on Webster, but on Bull I found two feathers adhering to the lining of his overcoat and fresh bloodstains, and blood-stains on his pocket knife—I showed him the feathers and he said, "You are very fly, guv'nor, but I am as fly as you are"—Webster made no reply—whilst being searched Bull said to the potman, "I will make it warm for you, I lay."

By the COURT. I have never found the fowls—people are frightened to give information in that quarter.

Cross-examined by Webster. You said you had been to work when I arrested you but I do not know whether you had been or not—you looked as if you had been, because you were black.

HENRY CURTIS . I am a potman at the Old Mill, South Woodford—the proprietor keeps some fowls which I attend to—about 5.55 p.m. on February 10th the prisoners came in, had a drink, and went out—about 6.5 p.m. I noticed them leaving the urinal—they were both bulky in front with something sticking out under their coats, and they were talking—they then went straight away—I found the hen-house door open and I went and told Mrs. Marvell—I found four fowls missing—a black, a Plymouth Rock, a brown one, and a brown one with a black neck, which I had last seen safely at 4 p.m.—it was wet about 5 p.m. or 6 p.m. that day—soon after the prisoners had been in the urinal I found feathers there—they corresponded with the feathers of the missing fowls—the prisoners came back about 8 p.m. when I informed the police.

Cross-examined by Webster. The fowls could run through an opening for them to go out—the door was generally not locked, but was shut and latched—the children might leave the door open—I did not follow you out—you bid me "Good-night" inside—I cannot say that I have ever known you touch any fowls—I do not know that I have ever found you dishonest in anything—I have known you seventeen years.

By the COURT. Webster lives about twenty minutes, walk away from the public-house—I do not know where Bull lives—he is very often at the public-house—the fowls go to roost before 6 p.m. and they would not have been running about at the time the prisoners were in the urinal—someone must have opened the door and taken them oft the roost.

GEORGE MELVILLE (Detective Q.) At 11 p.m. on February 10th I went to this urinal and found some feathers there which were dry, which I put into an envelope (Produced)—I found they corresponded with the feathers found in Bull's coat—between 5 and 5.30 p.m. there was some rain—there were some bloodstains on the sides of the urinal, but I cannot say whether it was chicken's blood or human blood—the quickest way of killing a chicken with the least noise is to cut the back of the neck.

By the COURT. The feathers I picked up corresponded with the description of the fowls that were missing.

Webster's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty and know nothing about it. I had been at work all day. Anybody can go into the urinal."

Bull's statement before the Magistrate: "I know nothing at all about it Anybody is liable to pick a feather up in his coat in the urinal."

Webster, in his defence on oath, said that he had been at work the whole of that day and went to the public-house for a drink; that he went to the urinal just as Bull was coming out; that he then went to George Lane with Bull, returned to the public-house where he saw Bull again, and there he was arrested; that he was not bulky when he came out of the urinal, but was holding a jacket over his arm.

Bull, in his defence on oath, said that he knew nothing at all about it;

that his coat, which was the same one that he had on at the time, and which had not been washed, had no pockets, and there were no bloodstains on it; that he must have picked up the feathers when he took his coat off in the urinal; that he did not remember saying to Curtis, "I will make it warm for you" and that he lived in the same house with Webster.

Evidence in Reply.

HENRY CURTIS . (Re-examined by the COURT.) I noticed both prisoners were bulky under the armpits.

By the JURY. The urinal is about two yards from the hen-house door—the hen-house is a long one and goes light back—when the prisoners left the public-house, one a little after the other, they were not bulky—by screwing fowls, necks you could kill them without any noise—they would bleed at the mouth.

NOT GUILTY .

KENT CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Darling,

Old Court, March 9th and 10th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-63

286 ARTHUR SWAIN (20) and EDWARD JONES, Rape on Mary Pascoe.

MR. PICKERING Prosecuted; MR. BASIL WATSON Defended Jones.

GUILTY . Swam then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Greenwich on October 26th, 1904, and Jones to a conviction of felony at the Guild-hall, Canterbury, on February 25th, 1902. Two other convictions were proved against Swain and one against Jones. The police stated that the prisoners were the most troublesome ruffians in the East End. Ten years penal servitude each.

Reference Number: t19050306-64

287 ALBERT EDWARD THOMPSON (41) , Indicted and charged on the Coroner's inquisition with the wilful murder of Florence Thompson.

MR. MATHEWS, MR. A. GILL, MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL, and MR. PERCIVAL

CLARKE Prosecuted; MR. LAWLESS and MR. P. GRAIN Defended.

ROSE FLORENCE THOMPSON . I am eighteen and the prisoner's daughter—I lived with him and my mother, the deceased, at 96, Bovill Road, Forest Hill—of late years he has been a house painter—beside myself there was at home my brother, Frederick, fifteen years old; Reginald, twelve; and Frank ten—my mother was a sober woman—the prisoner had a glass at times, but he was not a drunkard; he did not drink habitually—when he had a glass at times he and my mother had a quarrel, but not always—I have known Mrs. Pears for about three years—her real name is Alice Fisher—she had some furniture stored at 96, Bovill Road—it was taken there when my mother moved from Commercial Road about last May—Alice Fisher lived in the house; she came on Boxing Day, and continued to live there until February 1st—my mother went out nursing, and would be away from home for some weeks at a time—her last engagement was

Tuesday before Christmas—she came back about January 10th or 11th—she was away about three weeks—Mrs. Fisher was living in the house while my mother was away—my father did not like her living in the house—he said he did not think it was right, and he could not have her furniture there—he said that while she was last with us—I cannot remember if he laid why he did not think it right—when my mother came back about January 10th or 11th she and Alice Fisher were both living in the house—mother used to go out with her; sometimes they were out all day—my father objected to it strongly, and said it was mother's right place to be at home—I once heard her say she should go out when she liked—on February 1st she went away with Alice Fisher—I did not know where they were going to—mother said she would write to us—my father was at work when they went—there was some furniture in the house which belonged to my mother; she had bought it off a lady where I was in service—she took it away, and Alice Fisher's was also taken—I knew Mrs. Parker, who lived next door—we asked her on several occasions after that for advice—I took a letter on a Sunday from father to mother—I only took one—this one, bearing the post-mark February 4th, is in my father's writing (Read): "96, Bovill Road. My dear Flo, I now write to ask you to think better of what has happened. I will promise you to be different toward you. Do come back. You know the children do feel it more so to look in the rooms, and my governor has given me a rise, so come back. You can save a little from the bad times where I cannot. You can have all I get, and I will make you comfortable. Will you write to me? If you will, and tell me, I will take a little place for 6s. a week—not two rooms. You can do what you like. D. F., it is hard on the boys to lose you, and home so different. Write. With love from your Affectionate husband, Bert"—this letter is the one I took myself on Sunday, February 5th (Read): "90, Bovill Road, Honor Oak Park. My dear Flo, I write to you and also the boys. Will you come home! I will be better altogether to you and for the children's sake. Mr. Car Michael said how bad Frank looked. I have been to see Mi. Long and give him notice. Mr. Parker and I saw Mrs. Scott; both say come back, I wish to ask you, but I never told Mrs. Scott about it. Dear Flo, I have been about the room, Brockley, Catford, Sydenham, which you like, but come, none of them far from your doctor's if you want to keep on nursing. I have had one lady to-night for you, go at once, but I told them you was on a case. You know, Flo, I cannot and will not see the youngsters took bad, so if you will not come back something will happen. I am starting early next week and we shall be all right if you Come and look after the money. Mrs. Scott tells me that Mr. S. has been bringing home 1s. to 1s. 6d. a day for months for seven of them. I asked Florrie to being this in case you did not get the other one. I am nearly done for; I walk about all night. Two o'clock this morning, Saturday, I had a policeman pass while I was at the gate, so he stopped with me about two hours. For God's sake come back, not to this house—another one. Good-bye, and good-night to you. No doubt you sleep—I don't. With best love from the boys and self, I remain, Your

affectionate husband, Bert. I go and look at the boys often asleep, and both Frank and Reg lay saving 'Mum, Mum,' crying and sobbing to break their hearts. Will you write to them and rest their minds? You know there is a great change in Reggie; he seems unnerved, his hands won't keep still at school. D. F., this lady wanted me to come and fetch you to-night, no matter what it cost or expense. She said, 'Go at once by tram cab, 'bus, or anything,' but I told her it was beyond my power. Come back, your living is here, they are good people, ten minutes walk about. She would—to London and fetch one—this is quarter to eleven"—I took that letter to 14, Newman Road Barking—my father told me where they had gone—these two letters, one undated and the other dated February 6th, are in my father's writing (Read): "96, Bovill Road, Honor Oak Park, 6th January, 1905. My dear wife, Florrie—I do know I have been unkind to you, but do forgive me and come back for the boy's sake. They do want school and I have to give in to them. They break their hearts if anything said; they are all ill and they are awake. It is now 2 o'clock, Monday morning"—on the Monday night Frederick and Frank were very queer. "I will promise to be so good and make you happy as a man should do. I will swear before God if I never see you again. Do come home and I will never mention anything of the past. Do believe it, my dear wife. I am at work, but it won't last long if you do not come. Will you let me see you if you come to Forest Hill? Do, for God's sake, dear. I may say good-bye. With love from me and the boy, I remain your affectionate husband, Bert."—father attended to the boys while they were ill—on February 7th he came to me at an early hour and asked me if thought it proper to fetch mother—I said I would go—I do not know what time it was—I was in bed—he told me to ask mother if she would come back as the boys were queer—I went to 14, Newman Road, and saw her—I do not know what time I got there—it was first after 8 o'clock when I left home—I went home with her—we get there about 12.30 or 12.45—when we got into the kitchen I found my father there and Reginald and Frank—Frederick was upstairs, ill—my father asked me if my mother had come back—I said, "Yes"—she was wiping her feet—he went to embrace her at the kitchen door as she came, in but she said she would not lead the life she had been living; she would get her living by nursing and sue for a separation without maintenance—my father said, "If that is so my life is ended"—he rushed out of the kitchen putting his hand in his pocket—I ran after him and said, "Do not be silly, dad"—he seemed to put his right hand behind him—I went into the passage—I did not wait to see what he was going to do—I came back and shut the kitchen door—I had not been back many minutes before he opened the kitchen door, pushed me aside and struck mother—she was standing by the kitchen table going to open the door and facing the fireplace—he struck her under her right ear—I saw a knife in his hand after he nit her—I screamed and ran into the garden with Mrs. Parker and my brothers—I was in the garden a few seconds, and as I returned I saw mother fall to the floor just as I got to the door—

father ripped the fur she was wearing round her neck which was fastened—he pulled it away and stuck the knife in her throat—she was then lying on the ground—I screamed and ran for a policeman—I met one and shortly afterwards saw my father in the street, I pointed him out to the policeman—he said what I had told the policemen was quite true and he was willing to go with them and aid not wish to make any fuss—I went back to the house and found mother in the kitchen, where I had seen her lying—she was then dead—there was a pool of blood there—my father was brought there by the constable, and when he saw my mother he said, "That is my true love"—he was sober—I had never seen this knife before (Produced)—I did not see what he did with it after he had done what I have described—when I came back it was lying on the table on a bread and butter plate.

Cross-examined. I do not know if he carried the knife or not—all I can say is that I had not seen it—my father sometimes took drink, but not very often—with those exceptions he was a very affectionate and kind father—he seemed to be passionately attached to my mother there were bickerings between them after Mrs. Pears came—he did not like her being in the house—she and my mother went away on February 1st in the daytime when my father was at work—my mother took away furniture of her own, but not very much—there was a bed-stead and bedding and, I think, two or three little tables—when my father came home he seemed very much upset until February 7th—when I brought back my mother he seemed very strange—he was out at night and I heard him about at night—the boys seemed to be queer on the Saturday night and on the Sunday night my father had to be up with them—he got poultices for Fred and on the Monday he helped me to get the meals—practically the whole of that week he was up every night—at times he dozed in the chair—in the daytime he went to his work—when my mother came back my father seemed over-joyed—when she said she had not come to stay it seemed to turn him directly—it was then that he said, "My life is ended"—after he had put his hand in his pocket and rushed from the room, I rushed after him, thinking he was going to do himself an injury, but I did not want to see what he was going to do—I did not know what he was going to do—he opened the door and pushed me aside—I afterwards ran into the garden, but was there only a few seconds—I went to fetch the police—during the previous week the prisoner had eaten very little food.

FREDERICK JOSEPH THOMPSON . I am the prisoners son and lived at 96, Bovill Road, Forest Hill—I am fifteen years old—on February 7th I was ill in bed, upstairs—my brother Frank was queer too—about 1 p.m. I heard my sister scream—I jumped out of bed and ran down-stairs to the kitchen—I saw my mother lying on the floor—the prisoner was untying her fur boa, which was round her neck—I saw him stab her in the neck with a knife, which he then laid on the table—I had never seen the knife before—I tried to pull my father away—I saw him go out of the room—he did not say anything.

Cross-examined. He may have had the knife without me seeing

it—my father had stayed up the whole of the previous night poulticing me because I had a cold—I wrote one of the letters asking my mother to come home—I was not ill on the Sunday night.

EDITH PARKER . I am the wife of Joseph Parker, of 94a, Bovill Road, Forest Hill, which is next door to 96—I have known the deceased for about eight months—on February 1st the prisoner came to see me in the evening, and said his wife had left him, and asked me if I knew were she had gone—I said I did not know—he said that he intended to find her and if she did not return he would do for her—I said, "Perhaps she will return; she will come back"—I saw him next morning in the garden and asked him if he was not going to work—he said no, he was going to find his wife, and if she did not return that the children should never live to know that their mother had left them—on the 3rd I went in there about 8 a.m. to see if the children were all right—the prisoner said he had seen his wife the night before, but she would not come back, and he did not know whether to get his knife and do for her or to let her go—I saw him again on the 6th; he said he wished his wife would return on account of the children—he was very anxious for her to return and said the children were not well—about 8 a.m. on the 7th I went into the house—the prisoner said the boy had been very bad in bed all night and that he had been poulticing him, and asked me if I thought his wife would return—I said, "Perhaps she will send Florrie and see"—by Florrie I meant his daughter Rose—about 12 o'clock I went in to see how the boy was—the prisoner said his wife had not come back, and if she did not come back to stay she should not live long, and would never go out of the house again—I said, "Do not do anything like that; think of the children. If you do anything like that they would be both left parentless at once"—he said "I do not care; she has not cared. If she would have only come back to the children!"—about 1 o'clock I received a message and went in—I found Mrs. Thompson in the kitchen with the prisoner and Rose—I said to Mrs. Thompson, "I am so glad to see you back"—she said, "I am not going to stay"—I said, "Are not you?"—the prisoner said, "Why are not you going to stay?"—she said, "You know why; because you have been messing about with other women"—he said "I have not, and if I have, what about yourself"—she said, "Nothing of the kind"—he said, "If you are not going to stay, my life is ended"—he rushed out of the kitchen and I rushed into the garden—that is all I heard or saw—I got round into my own house, went out into the front and saw the prisoner pass my gate.

Cross-examined. During the eight months that I knew these people they seemed to live very happily together as far as I saw—after the deceased went away on February 1st I saw the prisoner nearly every day—he seemed very much depressed and upset and complained of not having slept at night—I did not regard these threats as serious—after I rushed out of the room, and as I was going up the garden, I heard a thud inside the house as if a body fell—I fell over my fence and as I got to the front of the house the prisoner came out and said, "It is done"—the whole thing was done in a couple of minutes—as far as I can tell, during

the eight months there was no truth in the suggestion that the prisoner went with other women.

ALICE FISHER . I live at 14 Newman Road, Barking—I went to live there on February 1st with the deceased—on February 2nd I remember seeing the prisoner there—I was present part of the time at an interview between him and the deceased—the deceased said she would go back to him in a month if he went on straight—afterwards she said she would get a separation from him without maintenance—he said, "If so, you will never live to carry it out; it will be a separation for ever"—I do not know in what way he was to keep straight—he asked her to go downstairs alone with him and she said she had said all she had to say, and he could go—I remember some letters coming.

By the COURT. The deceased went away to live with me because the prisoner treated her so badly—at Christmas they had quarrels, and she said she would leave him; I did not ask her to go—he used to drink a great deal—he often came home drunk—he threatened to do for her many times—I saw him pull her coat sleeve out once; he was sober then—I heard her once before accuse him of going with other women—he said, "If so, you have been as bad"—she told me she went in fear of her life, and she told him she would get a separation in consequence—I do Lot remember if she told him that before the night at Barking.

Cross-examined. I go to service as a cook—I did not take the deceased away—the prisoner never said anything to me about taking his wife out—she was not constantly going out with me, only when we were looking for rooms—I do not know "why she did not let the prisoner know we were going away—he knew I was going—I did not tell him she was going, as it was nothing to do with me—my life has only been what it should not be since I picked up with Mr. Pears—I did not know he was married—he is in prison now, and since he has been gone I have been straight and keeping myself respectable.

Re-excamined. I have known the prisoner five or six years—he knew about Mr. Pears—that was two years ago.

ALFRED ALDRIDGE (637P.) At 1.15 p.m. on February 7th I met Rose Thompson in Fosdale Road; she told me something—I went with her and we met the prisoner, who said, "It is quite true what my daughter has told you, I have cut my wife's throat and now she is settled with I do not care what becomes of myself. 1 do not want to make any fuss; I will go with you quietly"—with another constable I took him back to 96, Bovill Road, where I found the body of the deceased lying in the kitchen—I found this knife lying open on the kitchen table, with blood upon it—this fur collar (Produced) was round the deceased's neck—I took the prisoner to the station, where he was charged.

ALEXANDER CATO . I am a registered medical practitioner of 199 Stanstead Road, Forest Hill—on February 7th, about 1.30, I was called to Bovill Road, where I saw the deceased in the kitchen—she was then dead—she was lying on her back with her head to the door, and a pool of blood round her neck—the collar was fastened in front of her neck—there was a large incised wound in front of the throat—on February 8th

I made a post-mortem examination, and found another wound on the side of her neck about 1 inch long, and below it a slight scratch—the wound in front penetrated the right side of the wind pipe to the spinal column, and on the left side it severed the left common carotid artery—there were no other signs of wounds on the body—I was shown a cut on the collar which would correspond with the wound on the side of the neck, which might be rendered less serious by the knife passing through the collar—this knife might have done the injuries if used with considerable force—I examined the deceased's private parts, and found a slight abrasion in the neck of the womb about 4 inches or 5 inches in—there were two slight recent scratches—there were no signs of pregnancy—the scratches could have been caused by the packing needle which was shown to me at the Police Court, or by any similar instrument—a vaginal syringe might cause them while being used innocently—the instrument must have been inserted 4 or 5 inches—I had known the deceased for seven years, and for two or three years as a nurse—she had acted for my patients.

Cross-examined. The wounds in the vagina may have been a few days old—I only saw them at the post-mortem examination.

WALTER TURNER (Inspector). I was at Catford police station at 1.30 p.m. on February 7th when the prisoner was brought in—I searched him, and found this packing needle in his breast pocket—he said, "I want you to take care of that; it is important"—when he was charged he said, "I want that needle taken care of, my wife used that to do herself an injury with."

Cross-examined. He seemed very calm, sober, and rational—he was brought to the station about half an hour after the deed.

GUILTY. With the strongest possible recommendation to mercy by the Jury. DEATH.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Old Court, March 6th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-288

288. JAMES BALL (50) PLEADED GUILTY to, while being a clerk to His Majesty the King, unlawfully and with intent to defraud, falsifying a requisition for advances for the Army Veterinary Department for the month of January. 1905. Six months in the Second Division.

SURREY CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Darling.

Old Court, March 8th and 9th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-289

289. FREDERICK HENRY ROBINSON, (31), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously throwing certain corrosive fluid upon Beatrice Powell with intent to bun her or to do her grievous bodily harm. He received the best possible character from the Royal Navy and had two good conduct badges. Discharged in his own recognisances in £10.

Reference Number: t19050306-290

290. WILLIAM SAUNDERS . Feloniously and carnally knowing Frances Margaret Saunders a girl under the age of thirteen years.

MR. A. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Recorder.

Old Court, March 6th and 7th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-291

291. WILLIAM THOMAS ATWOOD PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a postal order for 3s. the property of the Postmaster General; also to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing a postal order for the payment of 2s., the property of the Postmaster-General. The prisoner's friends stated that they were willing he should go to his brother in Canada. Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t19050306-292

292. JOHN McGRATH (25) , Robbery with violence on Alfred Lee and stealing from his person 1s. 9 1/2 d., his money.

MR. DUCKWORTH Prosecuted.

ALFRED LEE . I reside at 126, Albert Road, Peckham—about 12.15 a.m. on Sunday, February 26th, I was coming from my stable, where I had been putting my horse up—it is about half a mile from my house—I was alone—three men came behind me/—one of them put his arm round my neck and nearly strangled me—the other two rifled my pockets—I had 1s. 9 1/2 d. on me altogether in my hip pocket, in silver and copper—after they had rifled my pockets they walked away sharp—I recognise the prisoner as one of them—I followed them—I had seen on my back on the ground—I lost sight of them and went home to bed—the same day at dinner time I went to the police station—I knew the prisoner, but not the others—I gave a description of the prisoner and in the evening I saw him at the station—he was by himself, except for a detective—I recognised him and charged him—I did not speak to him first when he assaulted me.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. When you met me I was going towards home, up Philip Road—you were not alone—I left my guvenor by the fish shop—there was no constable when I met you—one was not standing outside Philips's—I do not know where you were going when I met you—I did not say to you, "Hullo, Jack, I have not seen you since I have been home from the Navy."

ERNEST HAY (Sergeant P.) On February 26th I saw the prosecutor about noon at the station—I have known him for a long time—he complained that he had been robbed in the early morning—he mentioned a name to me and in consequence 1 went in search of the prisoner, I found aim about 9 p.m. in the Hanover, Rye Lane, Peckham—I told him I should arrest him for stealing 1s. 9 1/2 d. from Lee early that morning, he said, "I was drunk and did not know what happened—I can explain it. I had none of the money," when he was charged at the station he made no reply

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he met the prosecutor who was drunk, about 12.15 a.m. on February 26th, that they shook hands and walked along for about twenty-five yards; that he had known the prosecutor all his life; that they parted and he (the prisoner) went home; and that it was a got up affair by the prosecutor.

NOT GUILTY .

Old Court, March 15th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-293

293. CHARLES HURREN (23), and FREDERICK WATKINS (19) , Burglary in the dwelling house of George Woodrow Wells, and stealing and receiving therein thirty-four watches and other articles of jewellery, the goods of the said George Woodrow Wells. WATKINS

PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. GATHORNE-HARDY Prosecuted.

GEORGE WOODROW WELLS . I live and carry on business at 202. Grand Parade, High Street, Wimbledon, and am a watchmaker and jeweller—on February 14th, last I closed my shop about 8 o'clock leaving everything secure—the next morning I went downstairs about 7 o'clock and found the shop in confusion, goods lying about on the floor—I found that an entrance had been forced and that a great quantity of things were missing worth upwards of £100—I have seen some of my property since—this watch, with the number 107071 on it, is mine—all the property in this bag is mine.

JOHN GILLAN (Detective-Sergeant 7.) At 7.15 p.m. on Saturday, February 18th, I saw the prisoner? outside the "Prince of Wales," Somerstown—I followed them in the direction of Wandsworth and saw them standing underneath a lamp-poet—I saw Hurren take something from his pocket and examine it—I passed close up to him and saw he had three or four watches—he then gave something back to Watkins—they walked about 200 yards till they came to Keen's, a pawnbroker—Watkins stood at the opposite corner while Hurren went into the pledge department—I entered the sale department and called the pawnbroker aside and spoke to him—in consequence he said to the prisoner, "What can I do for you?"—I saw Hurren hand him this watch, since identified by the prosecutor as his property—the pawnbroker handed me the watch which I examined and noted the number—I handed the watch back to the pawnbroker and he handed it to the prisoner—the prisoner then left the pledge department and I left the other department—I saw him join Watkins—200 yards up the street I met a constable, who arrested Watkins, and I took Hurren to the station—he was searched, but I found nothing on him—this watch was brought in by a gentleman and identified—the prisoners were charged and on the 24th I went with Detective Scott to the prisoner's lodgings, 35, Kingsley Road, Wimbledon—over the cistern in the w.c. we found the watch produced and also the works of another watch, identified by the prosecutor—they were shown to the prisoner at the Police Court and he said that somebody must have put them there, he knew nothing about them—the other property was found on searching Watkins' premises.

Cross-examined. You were not examining one watch only under the lamp-post there were three or four—I am quite positive of that—it me almost as light as day on the night in question.

ARTHUR MEATON (Detective-Constable V.) I saw the two prisoners, detained at Wandsworth police station and searched them—I found, nothing on Hurren—on Watkins I found seven watches and nine ring)—they have been identified.

CHARLES BELCHER (Detective-Sergeant V.) On February 18th last I was at Wandsworth police station at 11 p.m.—the prisoners were in cells adjoining one another at the time—there were no other prisoners—I heard Hurren say to Watkins: "Ginger, where have you been? I thought you had been took to Wimbledon"—Watkins replied, "No"—Hurren went on to say, "Ginger, you isn't going to bring me in it, are you? You can say you came to call for me and I did not know any thing about it. Say you went in with the watch and you dropped it just outside the station"—Watkins replied, "All right"—Hurren said, "Have you come it to them? I believe you have told them"—Watkins said, "No"—Hurren then said, "I believe you have told them you live at Raynes Park"—Watkins replied, "No, but they will find that, out"—Hurren made another remark [The COURT directed it should not he read]—he went on to say, "You say I did not know anything about it, and then I can have a good haul with you with the other stuff when you come out. You was a fool with them watches. Why didn't you shove them down the pan?"—Watkins said, "I could not; they were watching me"—Hurren said, "Go on, you could if you had liked; what have you told them about where you got them?"—Watkins replied, "I told them I picked them up"—Hurren said, "Where?"—Watkins replied, "On Wimbledon Common"—Hurren said "When?"—Watkins replied, "On Thursday"—Hurren answered, "That is all right then" I then came away.

Hurren's statement before the Magistrate: "Sir, would you kindly look into my case has I have been brought into a thing what I no nothing a tall about. I went up the common on the 18 of February and only earn Is. 6d. all day and at 7 o'clock his the evening I was just going up Wimbledon when the prisoner knocked for me and ask me if I would come up Wandsworth with him. I said 'I don't mind where I go,' so we went and when I got has far has the porn shop with him he showed me a watch and ask me to porn it for him. I said, 'How much shall I get on it? He said, 'Try and get 12s. on it.' I said, 'Let me have a look at it first before I take it him,' and he showed me inside and out of the watch and it was the right time by it when I took it him. I stopped his the shop for about ten minutes before the pawnbroker ask what he could do for me. I said,' Let me have 12s. on this, and then he look at it and took it in the front shop and came back again and said he could not give me 12s. on it has it his a old fashon watch. I said,' All right,' and he gave it to me back and then I walked out and meet the prisoner opposite Looking in the Boot Shop window and I told him they would not give me any-think on it and I gave it to him back

and he said, 'Come on,' and has we was walking down the road about 100 yards from the porn shop we got stopped by a young gentleman and he ask me to come to the station and I went and he told a pleaceman to bring the other Chap and when we got to the station searched us both and found nothink on us. Then he told the sargent he would charge us with walking about him a suppisus manner and for standing outside of the porn shop examining the Stock for the purpose of committing a buglarie and then he said he would go back to the porn shop and see about it, but I never see him come back to the station no more that night, and after we had been setting down for about two hours we was searched again by a nuttier gentleman and he found on the other prisoner some watches and rings and then they put us his a Cell Next to one another and I said, 'Ginger, where did you get them from?' He said, 'I found them.' I said, 'Where?' He said, 'On Wimbledon Common.' I said, 'When?' He said, "On Thursday when I was up there goffing.' I said, "That all right.' He said, 'I am going to ring the bell,' and then I laved down and went to sleep for about two hours and then I heard a cell door bang and somebody call out, 'Charley.' I said, 'Hallow.' He said, 'I have had a blow out.' I said 'What of.' He said, 'Bread and Cheese and Beer.' I said, 'I have been to sleep and had Nothink.' He said, 'Charlie, they have took my feet and finger Marks.' I said, 'That to see if you have done anythink.' He said, 'I no that,' and then we both went to sleep for a Little wile and then we was fetched out again his front of a lot of pleaceman to see if they New us, and then we went back to hour Cell again and about a hour after we had a wash, and after that we had a cup of coffee and two little slices of bread and butter to last us all day up till 6 o'clock and then we got the same again; and then on Monday morning we came to Wimbledon pleace station and they tried us for Buglarie and I don't no no more than a dead Man about it so I hope, please God, you will do your Best for me, just for my poor old Mother's sake. I told her I was going on strate and Now I have got brought into this scrape and she his Nearly hin her grave over me. Sir, I must tell you I have only been out six weeks from twenty-two Months Hard labour, so I hope you will do your best to help me out of this fix what I have run into. I must now close from your obeant Servant, Charles Hurren."

Hurren, in his defence, said that the two watches found in his house had been there about eight or ten days, and if he had known they were there he would have moved them; that he did not know anything about them, and that anybody could have put them where they were found.

GUILTY of receiving. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on April 27th, 1903. Four other convictions and four summary convictions were proved against him. The police gave Watkins a good character. WATKINS, Six months' hard labour. HURREN. Three years, venal servitude.

New Court, March. 7th, 1905.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t19050306-71

294 ALBERT BOND (27) , Feloniously breaking into the counting house of the Kent County Laundry, Limited, and stealing 5s. 6d., their money.

MR. FLEMING Prosecuted.

FRANCIS MARY LIDDLE . I live at 31, Strathholme Street, Streatham, and am manageress of the Kent County Laundry, Limited, at Peckham—on February 17th I was on duty till 9.15 p.m. and returned on Saturday about 7.45 or 7.50 a.m.—I found that the door, which had been bolted from the inside, had been opened—I examined it and found a pane of glass had been cut out, also a front frame from the laundry door and a cash box was missing, which contained 3s. 10d. and 1s. 10d. in coppers in a little paper bag—I wrote to Detective Hay, asking him to come and see me.

ERNEST HAY (Detective E.) I was called in to this laundry about 9 a.m. on February 18th—I found that the outer door had been attacked ineffectually—there were seven marks of a jemmy—a pane of glass had been removed by cutting away the putty, and the pane of an inner window had been removed by similar means—on the glass that had been removed I found fresh finger impressions—I took this glass to the Finger Print Office of Scotland Yard, and submitted ft to Inspector Steadman—in consequence of what he said I went to, and found the prisoner detained at, Peckham police station on another charge—I charged him with having committed this offence—he made no reply.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I explained to the inspector how an entrance had been effected by crossing from Clifton Church through some gardens, but I did not say I had seen you there—I had seen marks on the railing passing along the side of the church—I saw footmarks on the mould of the adjoining garden, where it was dug ground about ten yards from the laundry window in both directions—one footmark was smaller than the other, as if of some other person.

CHARLES STEADMAN (Police-Inspector.) I am in charge of the Finger Print Department at Scotland Yard—I have had eleven years, experience and I have made a special study of finger prints and impressions—this piece of glass was handed me by Hay on February 18th—on examining it I found a finger print which I photographed—I produce the negative and the enlargement—I have compared it with the impression of the prisoner's right thumb, which I obtained from him in Brixton prison on February 23rd—I have marked eleven points, but if three points correspond there is an absolute certainty of the person being the same [The witness explained the points to the jury]—taking the points in conjunction identification is absolutely certain—there is a pure spiral wall in the impression—this method of identification hag been recognised throughout England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland and the colonies.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent, and call no witnesses."

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was in bed on the Friday at 12.30, and that he was a general dealer with a barrow.

NOT GUILTY .

New Court, March 23rd and 24th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-295

295. WILLIAM FRANKLAND and FRANCIS BEST (46) (who was deaf and dumb), Unlawfully committing an act of gross indecency with each other.

MR. H. C. DAVENPORT Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER appeared for Frankland and MR. SANDS for Best.

NOT GUILTY .

Before Lumley Smithy Esq.

Fourth Court, March 8th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-296

296. HARRY SLATER (18) , Feloniously assaulting Albert Clements and robbing him with violence of 7s. 6d., his property.

MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. WATT Defended.

THOMAS PEEL (43 L.) About 11.30 a.m. on January 22nd I was on duty in New Kent Road in plain clothes when I saw the prosecutor—I saw three men drag him from the footway down a side passage and as I came level with the passage I saw one man holding him from behind, and the other two on each side—one of them had his hand on his throat, and each of them had a hand in his pockets—I caught hold of one of the men, and dragged him away on to the footpath—I struggled for a few seconds with him when he back-heeled me—he said, "Let me go, guv'nor; I have done nothing"—I said, "You will come with me; I am a police officer"—the other two men then closed on me, and I was thrown to the ground—I retained my hold on my man all the time, and managed to get on my feet again, when he kicked me on the right leg and right ankle, and the two of us fell to the ground the second time—while on the ground I was kicked twice on the left side of my face by the two other men, who were standing up—that dazed me and they pulled me away, and all three escaped—in this passage-there is a fair light from incandescent gas lamps, of which we were in the centre of about three or four; they were twenty yards away I should say—I took the prosecutor to the station—he had undoubtedly been drinking, but I was somewhat misled as to his condition by his being a cripple—particulars wore obtained from him, and he was allowed to go—the prisoner is the man I had got hold of, and the next time I saw him was about 2 a.m. on February 11th, when he was standing in a row with eight or nine other men at the police station—I picked him out without hesitation—I spoke to three or four in order to hear their voices—I asked the prisoner how long it would take me to walk to London Bridge, and he made some sort of reply; it was merely to enable me to hear his voice, and I recognised it decidedly—I asked to look at his hands, because when I was on the ground for the second time and being kicked I shouted for help, and the prisoner put his hand over my mouth—to prevent myself being suffocated I bit one of his fingers which had got into my mouth, and I looked to see if there were any marks—there was a mark, but it was of more recent date, and would not be the one caused by my teeth.

Cross-examined. I was about twenty yards away from the men when I first noticed them, and I should not say they saw me—the place where I seized them was equidistant from four gas-lamps—it is a narrow footpath which turns immediately off the pavement; then there is a rail or a sort of gate that you go through, and it immediately opens out to about ten or fifteen yards wide, but you can only enter it by a gate of about two feet wide; there is no roadway for a cart to go through—there is one lamp less than twenty yards along the passage, another one about twenty yards to the right in New Kent Road, and another about twenty yards to the left in New Kent Road—on the right side of the passage it is entirely railings shout eight feet high, and part of the left side brick wall about three feet high, the remainder being made up of iron railings, and one lamp shines over each side—New Kent Road is about fifty feet wide at least—the railings are about three or four yards from the road—I saw the men in the narrow part—after I was kicked on the head, although I was dated, I had my senses all the time—the prosecutor was standing by at the time—the reason I asked the prisoner to take his cap off at the station was that in the struggle it came off, and it was then that I had a good look at his face; it was merely to convince me—I did not expect to find any mark on his hand after three weeks—I asked him to repeat, "Let me go, guv'nor; I have done nothing"—what he said to me in answer to my question about London Bridge was not quite satisfactory to my mind, and I wanted to try something still further.

Re-examined. I was struggling with the prisoner about three minutes, and during all the time I never let go of him until I was knocked down, and locked for the second time.

ALBERT CLEMENTS . I am a carman—about 11.30 p.m. on January 22nd I was in Buckingham Square, New Kent Road—I had 7s. 6d. in my right band trousers pocket which was stolen from me—I was sober with the exception of taking a glass or two during the evening; I was not the worse for drink—I was the worse for it, or no better for it—I was taken to identify the man after a time, but I failed to do so—I cannot say one way or the other whether the prisoner is one of the men who robbed me.

Cross-examined. I was taken to the station the same night, but they did not think me drunk, and they let me go—I had my wits about me that night—I have the impression that the men were sailors.

GEORGE WHITMORE (34 L.R.) At 1 a.m. on February 11th I went to the prisoner's house at 3, Nerissa Street, Walworth—he was sitting in bed with only his pants on—he said, "What is this for, the assault the other night?"—I was in plain clothes, but he knows me—I said, "No, the assault and robbery on the 22nd of last month," and he said, "I can prove where I was on the 22nd; I was over the water with a girl"—his mother was present, and he turned to her and said, "Mother, you know where I was on the 22nd, I was at Buckingham," and the mother replied, "No, I do not know. I have had enough trouble with you."

Cross-examined. The prisoner would mean on the north side of the Thames; Walworth is on the south side—the mother did not say, There has been enough trouble with you," meaning that there was

enough trouble in the police coining there—I took a note on arrival at the police station.

JOSEPH WELLS (330 L.) In the early morning of February 11th I went to 3, Nerissa Street, Walworth, where I saw the prisoner in bed—I told him that he was wanted for highway robbery, and assault in New Kent Road—he said, "Do you mean that assault?"—I said, "This is P.C. Whitmore's case; he will explain to you"—he did not say when or what time when he said, "Do you mean that assault?"—I did not take a note—Whitmore then came in and the prisoner said, "What is this?"—Whitmore said, "You will be detained on suspicion for highway robbery with violence in the New Kent Road on the 22nd ult."—he said, "I can prove where I was, "and, turning to his mother, said, "You know I was at Buckingham, mother"—his mother replied, "How do I know where you go to when you leave here? I have had enough trouble with you."

Cross-examined. He did not say, "Do you mean that assault the other night?"—I do not remember saying that when I gave my proof—I was not called before the Magistrate—I was told by the Crown to come here—I made a statement—I do not know that if the prisoner said, "Do you mean that assault?" it would be confession of guilt—I did not compare notes with Whitmore; I returned to my beat—I made a note after Whitmore spoke to the prisoner and his mother spoke, but I have no note of "Do you mean that assault?" and the mother was speaking to the prisoner when she said, "I have had enough trouble with you"—I do not remember the prisoner saying anything about being with a girl across the water—I did not hear Whitmore's evidence.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that from 6.30 p.m. until 10.30 p.m. he was with friends, leaving them just near his home; chat he went straight home, arriving there about 10.40 and did not go out again that night; that he could not have done so without his mother knowing it; that the reason he remembered that Sunday, was because it was his usual habit to go out with friends on that day: that he said at first he was at Buckingham, but his mother reminded him that that was on the night before; that when he said, "Do you mean the assault the other night?" he referred to a bit of a row he had had with a boy about a girl on the Thursday before; that a friend named Travel, who lived in Mason Street, came to see him in prison, he presumed, at the request of his young woman, on the Tuesday after his arrest and told him that he reckoned the robbery was done by Charlie Box, Alf. Watson, and Reed, men who were not friends of his, but whom he knew by sight, that the policeman only after hesitating some time identified him, and that when his mother said, "I have had enough trouble with you," she was speaking to the policemen and referring to their coming in the middle of the night.

Evidence for the Defence.

ELLEN SLATER . I live at 3, Nerissa Street, Walworth, and am the prisoner's mother, and he lives with me—on Sunday, January 22nd, he went out in the evening and came back about 10.30 or 11 p.m., going to bed shortly after and not going out again that night—he could not have

gone out without my knowing—on the early morning of February 11th there was a knock at the door which aroused me—there were then another two knocks and I went downstairs and found the policemen at the door—my son was putting on his clothes—the policeman said he wanted the name of "Slater" and I said, "Yes"—he then said, "I want your son, Harry Slater," and I called out, "Harry, you're wanted," and my son met him in the passage—the policeman said, "There is a young man here wants you," and my son asked him what he wanted him for, whereupon the policeman said, "He will tell you when he comes inside"—with that the second policeman came in and said he wanted my son for an assault on January 22nd, and my son said, "I know nothing about any assault. I am innocent"—I remember him saying to me that he was at Buckingham, but when I came to remember it it was the week before, the second week in the New Year—when I said, "I have had enough trouble with you, "I was referring to the policemen coming in the middle of the night, and I was speaking to myself.

Cross-examined. I do not know where my son went when he went out and came back at 10.30 to 11 p.m.—I said at first, when he asked me, "I do not know where you was," until I considered—I do not know anybody named Travel, Alf. Watson, or Charlie Box—I do not know any of the boys—I have heard Reed's name, but I do not know him.

THOMAS PEEL (Re-examined). It is almost seven minutes' walk from the place where the assault occurred to where the prisoner lives.

NOT GUILTY .

Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.

Fourth Court, March 9th, 1905.

Reference Number: t19050306-297

297. WILLIAM DAVID JONES (33) , Committing wilful and corrupt perjury at the Lambeth Police Court at the hearing of a complaint by Annie Mary Jones.

MR. WARBURTON and MR. STUART Prosecuted; Mr. Stuart Defended.

[The evidence is unfit for publication.]

GUILTY . Twelve months, hard labour.

ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 3RD, 1905.


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