CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EIGHTH SESSION, HELD MAY 29TH, 1905.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORTHAND BY
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
(For many years with the late firm of Messrs. BARNETT & BUCKLER, Official Shorthand Writers to the Court.)
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the King's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, May 29th, 1905, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. JOHN POUND, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WILLIAM GRANTHAM , Knt., one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir WALTER WILKIN , K.C.M.G.; Sir MARCUS SAMUEL , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir GEORGE WYATT TRUSCOTT , Knt.; THOMAS BOOR CROSLY, M.D.; W. MURRAY GUTHRIE , Esq. M.P., and FRANCIS STANHOPE HANSON , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; 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.
GEORGE JOSEPEH WOODMAN, Esq., J.P.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
POUND, MAYOR. EIGHTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, May 29th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
435. THOMAS VANGO (19) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the shop of Mary Argent and stealing £2 7s. 6d., her money, having been convicted of felony at Newington Sessions on October 21st, 1903. Nine months' hard labour. —
(438.) PETER JACKSON (28) , to breaking and entering the warehouse of Sir John Knill and others, and stealing a Masonic apron and other articles, the property of Edmund Bearman, and an overcoat and other articles, the property of Henry John Howell .—Four previous convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard Labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(439.) WILLIAM THOMPSON (19) and CHRISTOPHER MURVYN (22) , to stealing certain metal gas brackets, the property of William Lawrence and others; also to stealing certain gas brackets, the property of the governors of St. Dunstan's Charities; also to stealing certain metal gas brackets, the property of David Sassoon and Co.; also to stealing a metal gas bracket, the property of William Edward Clifton; Murvyn having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Green on August 7th, 1901. Three other convictions were proved against him. THOMPSON— Ten months' hard labour. MURVYN— Twenty months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(440.) THOMAS UNDERWOOD (32) , to breaking and entering the counting house of the Consolidated Petroleum Co., and stealing six keys, their property, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on November 18th, 1895. Five other convictions were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(441.) CHARLES HAMMOND CROXFORD (33) , to forging and uttering a receipt for £10 with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a notice of withdrawal for £10, from the Post Office Savings Bank; also to stealing a Post Office Savings Bank deposit book, having been convicted of felony at this Court on May 3rd, 1897. Six month' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(442.) ARTHUR EDWARD THOMAS , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing three postal orders for the payment of 20s., 20s. and 2s. 6d., the property of the Postmaster General; also to stealing a post letter containing a box of dyspepsia tablets, the property of the Postmaster General. He received a good character. Eight months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(443.) GEORGE JAMES BAVE (18) , to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a letter containing a postal order for 10s., the property of the Postmaster General . He received an excellent character. Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
JOHN COMPTON . I am a clerk in the employment of the Post Office—before May this year there were a number of complaints of letters being; missed which passed through the South Western Post Office—I was asked to investigate the matter, and on May 3rd I made up what is known as a test packet—it consisted of this gold ring (Produced), which has my private mark upon it—I placed it in a small chocolate box—I also put in the packet nine 1d. postage stamps, which I marked, and also a written communication—the whole I put into a very stout envelope, which I fastened down very carefully, but not with sealing wax—I addressed it to A. J. Cowley, Esq., Ringwood, Ranelagh Gardens, London, S.W.—that was not an address upon the prisoner's rounds—I posted it at the South Western District Post Office about 12.45 that day—that is the post office where the prisoner is employed—I gave instructions as to what was to be done—the packet coming in the ordinary way under the prisoner's observation, should have been thrown out as a mis-sort; it was placed in his delivery—about 5.15 I saw him at the district office and told him 1 had been enquiring into the losses of packets, and I cautioned him—I said, "You had a mis-sort packet on your walk to-day for Ranelagh Gardens; what did you do with it?"—he said, "I remember the packet; I threw it out as a mis-sort"—I said, "Do you mind turning out your pockets?"—he said, "No," and produced from a pocket a small purse, at the bottom of which was the ring marked by me—I said, "What have you done with the other contents
of the packet?"—he said, "I have not seen them. I can account for my possession of the ring; I picked it up on the floor of the office. After I threw the packet out as a mis-sort, I picked the ring up"—the ring could not have come out, even if the packet had been opened, because it would not have come out of the chocolate box—it was a very tightly pressed box.
ALBERT EDWARD MITCHLEY . On May 3rd I received instructions from Mr. Compton, and in consequence I received at the South Western District Post Office a packet addressed to A. J. Cowley, Esq., Ringwood, Ranelagh Gardens, London, S.W., which I put on the prisoner's board; that is where the letters which he is going to take out on his next round would be—if a letter was put there with an address which is not included in his delivery, he should reject it—there is a rack in front of his board, where he should put mis-sorted letters, and there is a clerk who takes them away—I did not see him go out on this morning, nor did I see on his board any letter as a mis-sort—I did not see this packet where it should have been.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Mis-sorted letters are sometimes put on the table—it frequently happens that men leave letters behind them which they endorse.
Re-examined. On this occasion I searched everywhere to see if there was a letter.
By the COURT. I was specially observing the prisoner on this day—I especially looked in every place which is usually used for mis-sorted letters, to see if there was one, but I did not find one.
FRANK AUGUSTUS ELSWORTHY . I am an overseer in the Post Office—I was on duty about 1 o'clock on May 3rd at the South Western District Post Office, where I saw the prisoner at his board—I had received instructions from Mitchley to keep an eye upon him—I called out to certain men to clear out their walks—the prisoner came and took this packet, I saw him put it to his ear and shake it, and I never saw it afterwards—if he had thrown out a packet as a mis-sort I should have seen it, and it would have come to the sorting table again—if anyone in the employment of the Post Office finds a ring, his duty is to hand it over to his overseer or some other responsible officer—on that day I should have been the officer—this (Produced) is the book in which everything found in this way is entered—the rule is well known among the employees that every thing that is found should be handed over.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I plead not guilty, and call no witnesses."
The prisoner, in a written statement, said that he saw the packet addressed to an address which was not on his walk; that he placed it in the packet tray and went back to his table; that as he was starting on his walk he saw something shining on the floor, which he picked up and found to be a ring; that he put it in his pocket and meant to give it up; that he went on his walk, and when he returned he was going upstairs to tell the inspector that he had found
a ring which he had forgotten to give up, when the overseer told him he was wanted in the Postmaster's room; that he told the two gentlemen there that he had seen the packet, and told them that he had sorted it; that when he was searched the ring was found in his purse, and that he had not seen the chocolate box and the stamps.
GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Eight months' hard labour.
NEW COURT Monday, and
THIRD COURT, Tuesday, May 29th and 30th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
FANNY CHARLTON . I am the landlady of a public-house at 34, Farringdon Street—on Saturday, April 22nd, I was behind the bar when the prisoner came in and called for half of mild and bitter, and my nephew served him under my eyes—the price was 1 1/2 d., and he tendered in payment this half-crown (Produced)—I tested it and found it was bad, and told the prisoner so—he said, "Give it me back," and he tendered 1 1/2 d. for his beer—I refused to give him the coin back, and broke it in two—I said that it did not belong to him—in the meantime he asked for a pennyworth of tobacco and I said, "You cannot have it; we have sold out"—it was then that I tested the half-crown and broke it—I said, "I shall look you up," and he said, "If you lock me up I shall have to stay there all night"—I said, "No, you will not have to stay there, if you can tell where you got it from"—I then told my nephew in the prisoner's presence to jump over the counter to see if he could see a policeman, and he did so—I went out of another door, and the prisoner followed us—we saw a policeman coming out of the Viaduct, and we signalled him—he came up and I told him what had happened—he took the prisoner and searched him—nothing else was found—I charged him and he was taken to the police station.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not say at the Police Court that I served you—you asked for the pennyworth of tobacco to take our attention off the half-crown you had given us—you asked for it back two or three times—I went out of one door, and you went out of another—when I came back you were waiting on the pavement—it was not any good your running away—I did not hear my nephew say to you, "Why don't you get away while you have got a chance," nor did I hear you say, "Give it to me back, and I will take it back to the public-house where I got it from"—you told the inspector at the police station you thought you got it at a public-house of which you did not know the name, while you told me you got it at Liverpool Street station—you were quite sober or you would not have been served—I did not have to call twice to my nephew to come out from the bar to fetch a policeman.
Re-examined. The policeman was only a few yards away when we came out of the public-house—we are not very busy on Saturday night.
SAMUEL BILLING (P.C. 312 City). On the night of April 22nd I was on duty in Holborn Viaduct, when I saw Miss Charlton standing about six yards away from the public-house near the Viaduct with the prisoner—she was beckoning to me, and I went to her—she said, "This man has given me this bad half-crown in payment for half of mild and bitter" and she handed me this coin—I said to him, "If this is yours, how do you account for its possession?"—he said, "It was given to me in change for half a sovereign last night at Liverpool Street station"—I said, "Have you got any money, or what have you done with the remainder?"—he replied, "I have no more; I have spent the rest"—I took him to the public-house, where 1 searched him and found nothing on him—I said to him, "Did not you know that this was bad?"and he said, "No"—I said, "You have had it in your possession twenty-four hours, and it is about time you did, and you will have to come to the station"—I took him to Snow Hill police station—on the way he said nothing—when the inspector on duty asked him how he could account for its possession he said that he had obtained it in change for half a sovereign the night before, at a public-house opposite Liverpool Street station—he was then asked where he got the half sovereign from, and he said, "I got it from a bookmaker," but he declined to give the name, saying he knew who he was—he was then charged with uttering counterfeit coin, well knowing the same to be counterfeit—he said, "Well knowing; all right"—he gave his name to the inspector as John Clark, and his address at a common lodging house in Eagle Street, Red Lion Street, Holborn—I went there, but there was no such person who had been residing there.
Cross-examined. On the way back to the cell at the station you said, referring to the address you had given at Eagle Street, "I do not suppose they will know me, as I have only been stopping there two or three weeks, and they do not enter the names in a book.
Re-examined. When I went to the lodging house I described the prisoner.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent of this crime.
The prisoner desired to know whether a letter had been received by the COURT from the bookmaker from whom he had obtained the ten shilling piece. It was ascertained that no such letter had been received. In his defence, he said that he had got the bad coin in some change for half a sovereign at a public-house.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
SAMUEL JAMES PARKER . I am a barman at the Queen's Arms, Norland Road, Hammersmith—I was serving in the bar on April 29th, when about 8.40 p.m. the prisoner came in, accompanied by a woman, and called for
two glasses of ale—the price is 2d. and he tendered this florin (Produced) in payment, putting it down quietly on the counter—I picked it up and thought it was light, so I took it to the manager—he scraped it with another coin and came back with me to where the prisoner and the woman were standing—I told the prisoner it was a bad one, and that we could not accept it—I gave it him back and he said, "Some b——will have to have it"—before he went away he said that he had got it from Bosher's, the pawnbrokers—when I gave him the bad florin back he threw a good one, which he took from his right-hand trousers packet, on the counter, and said, "Is that a bad one?"—the manager gave him the change, and they drank up and went out.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not throw down the first florin in the ordinary way—you did not give me two coppers when I returned the bad florin to you.
ALFRED GOODY . I am manager at the Queen's Arms—on the night of April 29th Parker brought me a florin, which I tested by scraping the edge with another coin, and I found it to be bad—I gave it back to him, and went with him to where the prisoner was standing with a woman—I heard the conversation that took place between the prisoner and Parker—I gave 1s. 10d. change to the prisoner in change for a good florin—he then left the bar with the woman, and I went back to where I was standing previously—I then saw two police constables, Wretham and Parrett, in plain clothes, off duty, and I spoke to them—they then left the bar—this is the bad florin that I tested (Produced).
Cross-examined. You said, "Some other b——will have to have it," meaning the bad florin.
Re-examined. I gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and four pennies in change for the good florin.
MARY ANN PARKER . I am the proprietress of the Victoria beerhouse, Latimer Road, Hammersmith—about 8.30 p.m. on April 29th I was in the bar when the prisoner came in with a woman and called for two glasses of ale, the price of which would be 2d.—I served him and he tendered this 2s. piece (Produced), in payment for which I gave him 1s. 10d. change—I took the coin in my hand—I had my doubts about it—at that moment Wretham came in and I handed it to him—he came in with another constable and they arrested the prisoner there and then.
HENRY PARRETT (P.C. 21 X.R.) On the evening of April 29th I was in the Queen's Arms, off duty, with Wretham when a communication was made to us by Mr. Goody, the manager, in consequence of which we went out and followed the prisoner with a woman for about half a mile—they entered the Victoria beerhouse at the corner of Hunt Street and Latimer Road—I went in while the prisoner was being served with two glasses of ale, and Wretham went round to the next bar to get the florin from the landlady—I arrested the prisoner and the woman—the woman was discharged before the Magistrate—when I arrested them I said they would both be arrested for passing a bad 2s. piece which they had shortly before attempted to pass to the potman at the Queen's Arms, who had returned it to them telling them it was a bad one—the prisoner replied,
" Yes, I know, but somebody put it into me, and I am going to see some other b—gets it. I must have got it at Bosher's"—the woman said, "Yes; that is right; he got some tools out of pawn and they must have given it him"—I searched the prisoner there and then and found 10s. in gold and two shillings, two sixpences and 7d. in bronze, all flood money—I took them to the station, where the charge was formally made—the prisoner said, "She is innocent. I will take all the blame myself"—he gave an address at 84, Blechynden Street, Notting Hill, the same address as the woman gave—the woman had some money on her also.
THOMAS WRETHAM (P.C. 142 X.) Between 8 and 9 p.m. on April 29th I was with Parrett, off duty, in the Queen's Arms—we followed the prisoner and a woman to the Victoria beerhouse—Mrs. Parker handed me this counterfeit coin (Produced), which was marked by Parrett at the police station—when charged, the prisoner gave an address at 84, Blechynder Street—I could find no traces of him there.
GEORGE ANDREWS . I am an assistant to Mr. Bosher, pawnbroker, of 74, Bramley Road, Notting Hill—I have known the prisoner in the name of Smith as a customer—I cannot say for certain if any property was pawned in that name on April 29th—property was redeemed in that name on that date—the amount paid on the redemption was 5s. 8 1/2 d. but I cannot say what money went to make up that amount, and I do not know by whom the goods were redeemed—the goods are described as carpenter's tools, and a pair of boots.
By the COURT. It may have been the prisoner who redeemed them, but I cannot remember.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I swear I got the 2s. piece at Bosher's. I thought it looked good enough after the first gentleman said it was not. I gave half a sovereign in payment at Bosher's."
Evidence for the Defence.
MAY BEAL . (By the COURT.) I live at 68, Thames Street—all I know about this case is that on April 29th the prisoner redeemed some things at Bosher's, the pawnbrokers—he gave half a sovereign, and they gave him two 2s. pieces back and some pence.
Cross-examined. I think he had to pay 5s. 7 1/2 d. for the goods—there were a pair of boots, 1s. 6d., and some stonemason's tools—the boots had been repaired before he pawned them, and they had not been worn—I should know the man who handed the goods over the counter again—I was charged with the prisoner at the Police Court—I did not see the prisoner call anyone on his own behalf there—I saw the man who served him called—the prisoner used to come to where I had rooms for his meals, at No. 68, Blechynden Street—I used to do his washing there also—he has not lived with me now for about two months.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he obtained the counterfeit florin in change for half a sovereign at a pawnbroker's; that on being told by the barman at the Queen's Arms that it was bad he was going back to the pawnbroker's
when on looking at it he thought it looked all right, and went into a public-house to have half a pint.
GUILTY . He received a good character. Discharged on recognisances.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
CAROLINE CHADWICK . I reside at 64. Deep Road Shoreditch, where my father keeps a general shop—I sometimes serve in the shop—in the afternoon of Thursday, April 27th, I was in the shop when the prisoner came in and asked for a halfpenny book of "A. G.," and I served him with a packet of fag papers—he gave me this coin (Produced) in payment, which I took and showed to my father, who was in the back room—he came into the shop and shut the door—on the Tuesday before, between 7.30 and 8 p.m., I had taken this bad coin (Produced) off a man like the prisoner, who asked for a halfpenny packet of cigarette papers—I gave it then to my mother, who put it in her pocket—she gave me 5 1/2 d. change and I gave it to the man—the coin is exactly like the one that the prisoner tendered on this occasion.
ERNEST CHADWICK . I am the father of Caroline Chadwick—between 1 and 2 p.m. on April 27th I was in the room at the back of the shop when she brought me in this coin—I tried it with my teeth, and then I followed my daughter into the shop—I said nothing to the prisoner, but I sent for a constable—whilst waiting in the shop for him the prisoner said, "I will pay a halfpenny for the cigarette book,' and he showed me a halfpenny—I told him to wait and he said, "If it is a bad one, I did rot know it"—I had not said anything to him about the coin being bad—he said he had got it in change at a public-house in the road the previous night—he did not say which road—on the Wednesday before this, about dinner-time a farthing just like this one silvered over (Produced) was shown to me by Willie Newman, a neighbour, who brought it back—I detained the prisoner till the constable's arrival, when I said in the prisoner's presence, "This is a bad sixpence"—the constable took it and looked at it, and I said, "This is another one I also had on Tuesday night," and I showed him the one that the neighbour had returned to me; it was brought back to me about two hours afterwards.
CAROLINE CHADWICK . I am the wife of Ernest Chadwick—on April 25th my daughter brought me a coin which I put in my pocket—I gave her 5 1/2 d. change—the next morning my neighbour's little boy, Willie Newman, came in with six pennies for 6d., and I gave him the coin that I had had from my little girl the day before—he brought it back—the prisoner was brought back about two hours afterwards.
ERNEST HOODLESS (431 J.) About 1.30 p.m. on April 27th I was summoned to Mr. Chadwick's shop, where I found the prisoner detained—Mr. Chadwick told me that the prisoner had come into the shop, and tendered a coin for a cigarette book, and as he did not like the appearance of it he
sent for me—he said that his little daughter had recognised the prisoner as the man who had come in two nights previously, and had given a similar coin and had received 5 1/2 d. change—I asked the little girl, who was in the shop at the time, if the prisoner was the same man that had come into the shop previously, and she said she was not certain, but he had the same appearance—this was all said in the prisoner's hearing, but he said nothing—I asked him where he had got the coin, and he said, "I did not know it was a bad one. I had it given to me in change in a public-house last night"—he said he did not know where the public-house was—I searched him in the shop, and found Ave cigarette books, fourteen pennies, fourteen halfpennies, and eleven farthings on him—I took him to the police station where the charge was formally made—he said, "All I have got to say is that I got it in a public-house in change last night in Clare Market"; he did not know the name of the public-house—he gave his address as Victoria Home, Whitechapel, which is a common lodging house—these are the coins that Mr. Chadwick handed to me (Produced).
Cross-examined. You did not tell me that you worked in Clare Market sometimes selling vegetables.
JOHN BOVEY (Sergeant 15 J.) I was in charge of the police station on April 27th when the prisoner was brought in—on reading the charge over to him, in which he was charged with uttering both coins, he said, "Only one of those was mine. One I took in change at a public-house at Market Place, Hackney"—he gave his address as Victoria Home, Whitechapel, where I made enquiries.
Cross-examined. You were not known there—you said you were known there in another name—I did net have a ticket from you with the registered number on—no ticket was found on you.
By the COURT. He gave the name of John Martin when charged—he did not give any further information by which he could be identified—I brought a person forward who had received similar coins on the same dates, but she was not able to identify him.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—these are two bronze farthings (Produced)—they have been filed on the reverse to take off the type of coin—one side is very similar to a sixpence—they have been then plated on both sides—they have both been manipulated in the same way, and they look like sixpences.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I got it in change for a shilling at a public-house in the Broadway, the Market Place. I do live at the address I gave, but in a different name."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he obtained the coin in change at a public-house, and when tendering it he did not know it was bad; that he gave 3d. for a dozen farthings to a woman to oblige her; that he bought the cigarette books found on him from a man in the same lodging house; that he had forgotten that he had them when he went in to purchase another book; and that
he knew nothing of the coin it was alleged that he had passed on the Tuesday before.
GUILTY . Several previous convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CONSTANCE GRAHAM . I am a barmaid, employed at the Walmer Castle, Peckham Road—I was on duty on Saturday, May 20th, about 10.15 p.m. when the prisoner came and asked for a small soda, price 2d.—I gave him the soda, and he tendered this shilling (Produced) in payment—I took it and thought it was counterfeit—I tried it and broke it into two pieces—he could see me do it—I told him it was counterfeit, and he said he was sorry, and gave me a florin—I gave him change for it, and he stood there some time, apologising—somebody said that I ought not to have broken it in half, but the prisoner said I was quite right in doing so—I gave him back the bits, and he stood there talking to a customer—Mr. Brown then came up and somebody told him about it—he did not speak to the prisoner at all—I do not know what became, of the coin, and I did not see it again until at the Police Court—when I gave the bits back to the prisoner he broke them again into four—the last time I saw the four pieces was on the counter—I do not think I spoke to Mr. Brown while the prisoner was there.
Cross-examined. Mr. Kemp entered the bar while you were there.
GEORGE JOSEPH BROWN . I keep the Walmer Castle—I was just going into the bar, about 10.20 p.m. on May 20th, when I saw the prisoner standing talking to my wife at the bar as if he were making excuses—I heard him say that the barmaid had done quite right in breaking the coin—four pieces of a shilling were handed to me by my wife—the prisoner left the house, not having seen me, and I followed him—he joined two other men some distance from the house, had some conversation with them, and exchanged some coins—I could see money was passing, but I could not swear to what coins they were—I followed them to the Stirling Castle, about half a mile off in the neighbourhood of Camberwell—the prisoner went in alone, the other men staying on the opposite side of the road—I followed the prisoner inside and saw him call for a glass of bitter, for which he tendered a shilling—the price was 2d., and the young woman, Georgina Lawrence, gave him 10d. change and put the shilling on the till, giving him the beer—I was behind him while that was going on—he then left having only drunk a portion of the beer—I asked the barmaid for the coin, which she gave me—I broke it into these three pieces (Produced) with my teeth, in her presence—I went outside and caught hold of the prisoner, and told him I should charge him with uttering counterfeit coin—he had got about five or six yards, and was standing looking up and down as if he were looking for someone—the other two men were not in sight—he became very violent and broke away from me—he said nothing—
I sent to the station for a constable, and afterwards made a communication to Sergeant Hedges—it was after 10.30 p.m. when he broke away from me—I saw him again just before 11 p.m., and I told the officers to take him into custody for uttering counterfeit coin—the prisoner made use of some language and said, "Strike me blind, I do not know what it means"—he was then taken into custody.
Cross-examined. I am certain that I saw you in company with two other men; I could identify one of them now—you were about twenty or thirty yards in front—there was enough light to enable me to see you distinctly in the company of two other men passing coins—I cannot say whether they were silver or not—you went into the private bar of the Stirling Castle, and from there into the saloon bar, and came back into the private bar again.
Re-examined. I took strict observation of the prisoner, as he was a stranger—I heard him speaking to my wife, and I can recognise his voice.
GEORGINA LAWRENCE . I am a barmaid at the Stirling Castle, Camberwell Green—about 10.30 p.m. on May 20th I was in the bar when the prisoner came in and ordered a glass of bitter—I served him, and he gave me a shilling, which I put on the till—it was the only shilling there—the prisoner went out—Mr. Brown then said something to me, and I handed the shilling to him—on the Monday after, I went to the police station, where, at the back of the Court, I saw a number of men in line—I had to look down them, and identify the prisoner—when I looked I said to the police officer, "There are two men alike here, sir"—I knew the prisoner at once; I simply passed the remark that there were two men alike—I picked out the prisoner as the man who had passed this bad coin, and I say now that he is the man.
Cross-examined. I did not have any difficulty in picking you out—I simply said, "There are two men alike here; I should like to see Mr. Brown"—I did not wait till I saw Mr. Brown before I picked you out—I had no object in saying that I wanted to see him; it was rather nervousness on my part, I suppose; it was just an expression—you came into the saloon, bar first, and Mr. Brown was behind you when you called for the beer—you did not go into the private bar.
FREDERICK HEDGES (Sergeant P.) I was with Mr. Brown on Saturday night, May 20th, in Church Road, Camberwell, when I saw the prisoner—Mr. Brown said to me in the presence of, and referring to, the prisoner, "This is the man who passed a counterfeit shilling at my house. I give him into custody"—I was with another officer at the time, and I said to the prisoner," We are two police officers, and we are going to take you into custody"—he said, "Strike me blind, I do not know what you mean"—on the way to the station he said, "Don't hold me so tight; I got none on me"—I searched him and found two separate shillings, a sixpence, and 3d. in bronze, all good money.
GEORGE DONNYMAN (Sergeant P.) I was in charge of the Camberwell station on May 20th when the prisoner was brought in—the other witnesses stated their evidence, Brown saying that the prisoner had passed a counterfeit shilling in his house; that he had then followed him
along to the Stirling Castle, and had seen him pass another counterfeit shilling—the prisoner said, "What is the meaning of it? I do not understand "—I explained to him the charge and he said, "I do not know where the Walmer Castle is, to commence with"—I entered the charges, And read them over to him, when he said, "I do not know anything about it. Where is the Stirling Castle?"
Cross-examined. You gave a correct address.
By the COURT. The Stirling Castle and the Walmer Castle are a little over a quarter of a mile apart—he did not know either of them.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—I have examined these two shillings, one in four pieces and the other in three pieces, and I find them both counterfeit; they are from the same mould—I have seen fifty coins got from the same mould, but it depends upon the skill of the maker; a bad maker could not make so many—I do not think you could get a thousand from the same mould.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that on leaving his brother, with whom he had some drinks, he went into the Walmer Castle; that he did not know that the shilling he tendered there was a bad one; that he did not meet two men outside afterwards, nor exchange coins with them; that he did not go to the Stirling Castle, and that Miss Lawrence said when he was put up for identification "I cannot recognise anyone here. There are two men alike; I must see Mr. Brown first."
GUILTY . Four previous convictions were proved against him. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
REBECCA WYLBURN . I am the wife of Richard Wylburn, of 14, Homer Road, Victoria Park, where I let the first floor back room—on May 8th Lea came to look at the room, and later returned with Taylor—on May 13th they took possession of it—it is a furnished bed-sitting room—Taylor went out in the morning end came home in the evening, and Lea went out shopping—nobody else had access to the room, of which they had a key—they were there from the Saturday till the following Friday, when the police came—I pointed the room out to them—Taylor was out all day as a rule, and they were both at home during the evening.
By the COURT. They waited on themselves.
ALBERT HANDLEY (Sergeant J.) I have had Taylor under observation for a few days—a little after 5 p.m. on May 18th I saw him in Homer Road, and on the day after, Friday, shortly before 11 a.m., I saw him leave 14, Homer Road—I stopped him and had some conversation with him—I searched him and found in one of his pockets fifteen counterfeit florins with a layer of tissue paper between each of them, and also £2 10s. in gold, and 8s. in silver, good money—I had followed him walking about in various places on previous days—I went with two other officers to 14,
Homer Road on the same day, where 1 was shown the first floor back room—I there saw Lea and told her we were police officers, and asked her her name—she said, "Mrs. Corbett; my husband has just gone out"—I said, "We have arrested a man who gave the name of William Taylor, and who, I have reason to believe, has been living here with you"—she said, "That is quite right. I am not married. I have been living here about a week with him"—I told her that Taylor had been arrested for being in possession of counterfeit coin, and I had reason to believe that instruments for manufacturing coin would be found in the room, and that a search would be made—she said, "I know nothing about it"—the other officers and myself made a search, and between the mattress and the bed I found these twenty-eight counterfeit florins (Produced) wrapped in this piece of stocking (Produced)—I showed them to Lea and she said, "I knew they were there, but when he went out he told me not to touch anything that was under the bed"—I left, leaving her with the other two officers.
Cross-examined. Taylor was released from penal servitude on April 15th—I have never seen Lea before—on none of the days that I followed Taylor or knocked up against him casually did I see Lea with him.
CHARLES LEE (Detective J.) I helped to search the room—in a cupboard I found a piece of whiting, a saucer containing silversand and five pieces of rag; on the top of the cupboard a packet containing silversand; in a drawer of a small table three pieces of copper wire, one iron spoon with metal in it, one file, lamp black, tissue paper, five part packets of cigarettes, and between the mattress and overlay a packet of potassium cyanide—underneath the bed these two brushes (Produced) were found, which have been used for polishing purposes as is shown by the silversand on them—I called Lea's attention to the articles and she said, "They are his things. I know nothing about it. Once he asked me to get a packet of silversand for him"—I told her she would be taken into custody—on the way to the station she said. "I am sorry I did not tell you the truth at first. I met him about a week ago, and we agreed to live together. We have lived at Homer Road for a week. I only came from Liverpool about three weeks ago—she was afterwards charged, and made no reply.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—these are forty-three counterfeit coins altogether—fifteen of them are finished ready for uttering, and the remaining twenty-eight, those found under the bed, are all unfinished; they have not yet received the silver deposit—they are all from the same mould—this is a spoon with some molten metal—the potassium cyanide is used for battery purposes—the tile is used for filing the edges of the coin when it is taken off the get—the copper wire is, of course, the negative element in a battery—all these articles are part of the stock-in-trade of a coiner.
Cross-examined. There is not a single mould—I have not seen any plaster of Paris—moulds are always made of plaster of Paris—there are several other things necessary for making counterfeit money missing.
GUILTY . TAYLOR then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this
Court on March 12th, 1900. Three previous convictions were proved against him— Five years' penal servitude. LEA— Discharged on her own recognisances.
451. JOSEPH MEAD (27) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously altering and uttering certain receipts for goods, with intent to defraud; also to obtaining from Joseph Carlton £1 10s. by means of a certain forged and altered instrument with intent to defraud.
He received a good character. Six months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 30th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
452. MARCUS SPENCE (29) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for feloniously sending three letters to William George Ayers, demanding money with menaces, he well knowing the contents thereof. Discharged on his own recognisances.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. OLIVER and MR. BOWEN DAVIES Defended.
IVY KIRBY . I live at 48, Garvan Road, Fulham, and am a servant—I was engaged to be married to the deceased—on Saturday, April 1st, he called for me at my house between 8.10 and 8.30 p.m.—between 8.30 and 9p.m. I went out with him, and we walked towards the top of Field Road—we stopped at the Queen's Arms, at the corner of Field Road, for fifteen minutes and then walked towards Fulham Palace Road, along Greyhound Road—we were walking arm in arm on the right-hand side of the road—I noticed a barrel organ playing, and we stopped and listened to it for about twenty minutes—we then passed on in the same direction past the laundry shops in Greyhound Road—I know the railings on the right hand side of the road opposite the laundry shops—as we came along towards the railings, I saw two men coming in the opposite direction; one of them appeared to be drunk, and was rolling about—the other man was walking with him, but had not got hold of him then—I was walking next the railings—as we met them the drunken man rolled up against deceased, and pushed me into the railings—the deceased said, "Mind where you are going"—the drunken man said, "I will soon show you where I am going," and he got hold of the deceased, and pushed him into the road—he caught hold of him by his shoulders; they were facing each other—the deceased went back two or three steps, and fell on the back of his head in the road—the drunken man fell on top of the deceased, and, while in that position, punched him two or three times in his side—then he got up and kicked him on the head or neck while the deceased was still lying down—the second man
was standing on the pavement, and after the deceased had been kicked the drunken man walked away, and the other man took hold of him—they went away together towards the Prince of Wales, which was the direction they were going when we met them—only two of the shops were open at this time: a paper shop, and a barber's shop—the drunken man was the prisoner; I had never seen him before—he had on a dark cap, dark tie, turn-down collar, a square-cut dark coat and dark trousers—he had black round his eye, and the eye itself was red and bloodshot—he had heavy boots on—the second man had a bowler hat, an overcoat and light trousers—on April 2nd I saw a number of men at the police station, and picked out the prisoner—after the deceased fell down he did not move—I went to him, but he did not speak, and I sent a boy for assistance—the police came and took him away on an ambulance—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure we left the Queen's Arms about 9.15—I saw the time by a clock in a chemist's about three minutes from the Queen's Arms—it was after that that we heard the barrel organ in the Greyhound Road—the men were about fifteen or twenty yards away when I first saw them—I did not take particular notice of them then, only that they were rolling about, and we went in against the railings to get away from them—when the prisoner rolled up against the deceased I do not think he did it on purpose; I think it was the result of the condition he was in—I am quite sure the other man wore a bowler hat, and that his trousers were light—I know now that the prisoner lives in the same road as I do, but as far as I know I had not seen him before—it was rather dark in the road—I was not frightened when the prisoner caught hold of the deceased by the shoulders; I was when he was hitting him—when he was in the road I moved back, and did not go back to the deceased until the men had started to go away again—I saw the man's face who pushed the deceased down, I knew he was the same cut of man as the prisoner, but I could not exactly recognise his features—I did not see the other man face to face—he was facing me, but I did not look at him—after the deceased had been taken away I went to the police station with his mother—his sister also came to the door, but she stopped outside—a boy named Watson was not with us when we were going—before we got to the station I did not hear anybody say, "Jimmy Rice done that"—we stopped at the station with the deceased until he went to the infirmary—detective Hood first spoke to me about this about 12 o'clock that night; I do not remember who spoke to me first; there were two detectives there—I went with Hood to the prisoner's house—I had been out with Watson before that—Watson said he thought it was Jimmy Rice who had knocked the deceased down—that was the first I heard of Rice—when Hood and I went and knocked at the deceased's door two of his sisters answered it—Hood asked if their brother Jimmy lived there, and they said he was not in—Hood said he was a friend of his come to see him, and that he had been in the Army with him—he did not then say anything about a man having been knocked down—there was no conversation as to how the prisoner was dressed—Hood did not ask the sisters whether their brother wore a bowler hat; I did not hear anybody ask them that—I was not present when Bedford went; I was talking
to Hood about fifteen yards away—I did not know that Bedford was going to ask for the prisoner again—I did not knock at the door at all—I called at the house once—I heard the sisters tell Hood that their brother had a black eye—nobody told me that he had a black eye; I saw it for myself—I heard next day that Tomlin, the deceased's brother, had given the prisoner the black eye—when I identified the prisoner there was no other man with a black eye, but I picked him out by his clothes as well—his collar was not clean—I had seen his boots when he picked up his foot to kick the deceased; I was about five yards away then—they were not particularly heavy boots, nor very light—I did not notice any nails in them—the man who knocked the deceased down looked tidy; he did not look clean, but looked as if he was a respectable workman out for a Saturday night—the other man looked like a workman and looked tidy—when they went away I looked after them—there was a woman going along with them with a green coat on and I left them to her.
Re-examined. When I stepped back it was only for about five yards—I saw the woman in a green coat—I have seen her since; her name is Mrs. Dowden—when I went back to the deceased I had seen Mrs. Dowden—I went back to him directly the man left, and directly the other man had got hold of the prisoner—I first noticed the prisoner's face when he was coming towards me; there was a lamp at the corner of the road which shone on his face—it was then that I saw his black eye—I went with the ambulance to the police station; I did not go to the infirmary—I did not give any information to the police that night; I did next morning—about midnight I saw detectives Bedford and Hood at the station—I did not give them any description then; I had not made any statement to them at the time I went to Garvan Road—I had spoken to them—when I got to the police station with the ambulance I think I stayed there about thirty minutes—I remained until I went to 20, Garvan Road, with the officers—I think we got there about midnight—it was next day that I saw the prisoner at the station in the morning amongst a number of other people—I recognised him and pointed him out; I have no doubt at all that he is the man.
By the JURY. It was his right eye which was black.
By the COURT. It was light enough for me to see that the eye itself was bloodshot—the deceased was about 5 feet 3 inches tall.
WALTER LESTER . I am thirteen years, old and live with my parents at 5, Field Road, Fulham—on Saturday, April 1st, between 9.30 and 10 p.m., I was in Greyhound Road—I knew the deceased and Kirby; I saw them there—I know the railings outside the shops; they were near the railings when I saw them—I saw two men; I did not notice their condition—I saw them cross the road and knock up against the deceased, and knock him into the road, and one kicked him—I did not see if anything happened to Kirby—the deceased fell on his back—it was the prisoner who kicked him, but I do not know which of the two knocked him into the road—they ran round to the baker's—the prisoner kicked the deceased when he was in the road—I did not know him before by name; I knew his face—I saw him one Saturday night in the neighbourhood—the man who
kicked the deceased was dressed in cord trousers, heavy boots, and a, blue serge cap—both the men went round to the Prince of Wales which is near a baker's shop—I waited until the deceased was taken away on an ambulance, and on Sunday I went to the Fulham police station about 3.30 p.m.—I saw a number of men standing there in a row and picked out the prisoner; I noticed he had a black eye.
Cross-examined. I was out on an errand for my mother—I was just by Geissler's grocer's shop—I saw the men coming from Crefeld Road—they met the deceased and Kirby almost directly they came to the pavement—I know one of the men had a long coat on and the other one a short coat—the other man had a hard bowler hat—Kirby and the deceased were coming from the Prince of Wales and the two men were coming towards them—I did not see anybody fall on the deceased; he fell in the road by himself—I did not see any blow in his face—I did not see what made the deceased fall into the road—when I got home I told my mother that the deceased had been kicked by the prisoner—somebody in the road had said the prisoner had done it, about fifteen minutes after it had happened—my mother said she knew Jimmy Rice—I did not see the prisoner's face when we were in the road; he was coming behind me, I believe—when the man knocked up against the deceased I walked up to see what was the matter—I must have passed them because they went round Margravine Road—I did not see them come round Margravine Road; somebody in the road told me that they had—nobody told me that the prisoner had a black eye; I did not see that he had a black eye until the Sunday morning—I did not tell my mother what kind of a man it was I had seen do this—she did not tell me it was Jimmy Rice who had done it—I was shown a plan at the station and asked to show where I was standing—I do not know how long before this night it was that I had seen the prisoner—there were a lot of people in the road when it happened, and they came while the struggle was going on—I did not see anybody trying to stop the two men from going away—I went away to see how the deceased was getting on—I did not go to the station with him—I went on my errand—everybody was talking about it; it was then that I heard somebody say it was Jimmy Rice.
Re-examined. I had moved away when I heard somebody say it was Jimmy Rice—the men had gone by that time—it was a man who said it was Jimmy Rice.
ELLEN DOWDEN . I am a widow, and live at 14, Chelmsford Street, Fulham—on April 1st, I think about 9.20 p.m., I went to the Pear Tree in Margravine Road—I stayed there ten or fifteen minutes—there were a lot more in there—I knew the prisoner, but not to speak to—I saw him in the public-house that night with two other men, one named Curl, but I did not know his name until about ten minutes afterward; the other one was Watson—they were all drinking together; they drank up their glasses of beer and went out about five minutes before I did—I left and went home, and left again in about ten minutes—I was going to Clifford's, a greengrocer's in Greyhound Road—I know the railings opposite the laundries—Clifford's is on the same side of the road—I went to
Clifford's and was returning towards the Prince of Wales on the foot-path by the railings, and I saw three men coming down the road—two of them were struggling—I thought they were playing at wrestling—I saw two of them fall on the kerb—they got up and I cannot say which of them threw the deceased into the roadway—I cannot say how he was held—he fell very heavily upon his head and the other man kicked him—I saw the kick—I called out, "You dirty brute, you have kicked the man; hit him while he is up, not while he is down"—the third man who was standing by came to me, and said "Don't say anything, Missus; the other one kicked him first"—I said, "He did not"—the two men walked towards the Prince of Wales—the deceased was still lying on the ground, and, as far as I could see, did not move—I followed the men as they went in the direction of the Prince of Wales—I said I would give them in charge—the men who had kicked the deceased made use of a filthy expression, and said he would kick me too—I continued to follow, and he was going to break away to strike me, but the other one held him tight—he tried twice to break away to strike me—I was alarmed, and thought it wise to go into Geissler's shop, and I left them to go on their way—the last I saw of them was when they were going in the direction of the Prince of Wales—when the deceased was kicked as he lay in the road I heard a woman scream just after the kicking had taken place, but I did not see anybody there whom I could recognise—I had seen Curl, Watson and the prisoner together on Sunday, March 26th, in the Pear Tree—I noticed that the prisoner had a very bad black eye; that is the reason I noticed him—when I saw him in the Pear Tree on April 1st he still had it; it was even blacker—he looked to me as if he had come home from work.
Cross-examined. I first saw the prisoner and the other men at the Pear Tree on April 1st—I cannot say if the prisoner had anything in his hand—I heard him go and ask someone for a can for some beer, but who it was I cannot say—I noticed them all leave together—I did not notice if the prisoner took anything with him, I am not sure what time it was—when I was coming down Greyhound Road I saw this disturbance—I did not pass the men while they were struggling; I did not pass them at all—after the kicking one of them came and spoke to me and I saw his face—it was not Watson; I know him—it was not either of the men who were with the prisoner in the Pear Tree that night—I was not able to recognise the prisoner's face when the man struck at me; he had blood on his lip—next day I was taken to the station to identify the man who had kicked the deceased, but I was not able to do so—I saw the prisoner there—he did not seem to be like the man I had seen—when I saw him in the Pear Tree that evening I thought his clothes looked like working clothes, but I cannot tell you the colour—the clothes of the man who kicked the deceased looked clean and respectable, and he had hobnail boots—they looked heavy—when I saw the prisoner at the station next day I did not notice any mark on his mouth—I did not know his voice; I was not in his company—he was only in the same compartment—the man who spoke to me had on a long overcoat, a bowler hat and a white wrap round the inside of
his coat—I am quite sure about the bowler hat; I did not notice the colour of his trousers—I cannot say if the prisoner has on now the same clothes that he had on in the public-house.
Re-examined. I thought on the Saturday night that if I had seen the man who had kicked the deceased I could have recognised him—I saw his features when he made the second strike at me, but not at the time he was committing the assault on the deceased—I did not notice if it was dark, I was too excited—I did not see more than two people at the spot except the deceased man—I followed the two men as they were going away—they were walking in front of me on the kerb—I saw their faces when one of them came to me, and the second one I saw when he made the second blow at me—his companion got hold of him by his neck and he tried to twist away to hit me—that is the only opportunity I had of seeing his face—it was then that I saw the streak of blood—I did not notice if either of them had a black eye then.
ALFRED PHILIP SMITH . I live at 127, Greyhound Road, opposite Crefeld Road—on Saturday, April 1st, about 9.30, I was at the corner of Bayonne Road and Greyhound Road—I saw the deceased, whom I knew before, and a young woman walking along Greyhound Road, and a couple of men coming in the opposite direction—near Geissler's shop I see one of the men come up to the deceased and push him—he fell in the roadway, and then I see the man go to him and raise his foot three or four times in the action of kicking—it seemed as though the man caught hold of the deceased's two shoulders and pushed him into the road—it was while he was lying in the road that I saw the man's foot go three or four times—I did not see the deceased move after he fell down—I know now the man who kicked him—I had not seen him before that night—I noticed he had a bloodshot eye with black marks round it—on April 11th I saw a number of men in a row at the station and picked out the prisoner as the man who had kicked the deceased—after the man had done the kicking he and the other man walked towards Geissler's store and towards the Prince of Wales, and disappeared.
Cross-examined. I was at the Police Court and the Coroner's Court—the prisoner had not got a black eye when I picked him put, he had a bloodshot eye—there was no other man there who had a black eye—it was the prisoner's right eye—there was about a foot between the prisoner and the other man who was nearest me—to see the prisoner's black eye I should have to look through the other man who was standing between us—the nearest lamp was about thirty feet away—the prisoner was dressed in a kind of dark tweed coat and waistcoat of a kind of greenish colour—when the sergeant came to my house I told him he had a light grey suit on by mistake—I did not tell him he had a dark cap on—I first thought of that at the West London Police Court—I saw the policeman come to the deceased—I did not go and say a word to the policeman—when I saw the deceased in the road it did not strike me that he was hurt—I did not hear any crash—I did not go over to the policeman, because I was waiting to see somebody—it did not strike me that something serious had happened—it is not usual for men to be thrown down in the street and be kicked
and a policeman to go to them—I did not think it was right to go and see if the man was hurt—I did not notice how the other man was dressed; all I know is that he had an overcoat on and a bowler hat—I did not tell the police that, and they did not tell me that he had a bowler hat on—I did not hear the witnesses at the Court say that he had a bowler hat on—nobody ever said to me, "There is Rice and Watson going for Tomlin," but I heard somebody say that to another man; I do not know who the man was—the deceased was then on the ground—I did not tell the policeman that, because I did not want to have anything to do with it—I did not know the prisoner or Watson before—I did not see the man who threw the deceased down fall on top of him—if he had fallen I must have seen it—the two men I saw walking along opposite me were respectably dressed—the clothes the prisoner had on appeared to be working ones—the other man had an overcoat on and a clean collar; he looked clean—the first time I talked about this was eight days afterwards—I had not paid a word to anybody during that time—I was asked to give a statement, and then told Sergeant Bedford that the man was wearing light clothes—the statement was read over to me and Bedford asked me if it was correct.
Re-examined. I corrected my statement about the light suit at the West London Police Court—I do not know how I came to describe it as a light suit—I did not know the prisoner or Watson before—I had known the deceased for about six years—I also knew Frederick and Frederick Robert Tomlin—I do not know who made the statement as to the prisoner and Watson being at Tomlin again—I did not notice a little boy there at the time.
JOHN CHUDLEY (320 T.) On April 1st I was on duty about 10.30 p.m. in Greyhound Road—I saw a crowd, and on going towards it saw the deceased lying on his back in the road unconscious—I saw Kirby there—I assisted in taking the deceased to the police station.
Cross-examined. Another officer was with me—Kirby did not point out the way the men had gone—the other officer went after them in consequence of information from a boy—this road is on my beat—it is not very busy on Saturday night—it is a fairly rough neighbourhood—it was not Watson who gave us the information—the boy gave his name to the other constable.
MILTON TOWNSEND .—I am a medical practitioner, of 184, Hammersmith Road—I went to the police station and saw the deceased, who was then suffering from a fracture of the base of the skull—he was in a dying condition, and I sent him to the Fulham Infirmary.
Cross-examined. There were no external marks—if he had been kicked about the skull with heavy hobnail boots I should have to know what part of the boot kicked him before I could say whether I should expect to see any marks.
JOHN JENKINS . I am a registered medical practitioner, and assistant medical superintendent to the Fulham Infirmary—about 10.50 p.m. on April 1st the deceased was brought in in a comatose condition, and blood was issuing from his nostrils—I made a careful examination of him after he had been undressed in the ward—there was no evidence of external
injury, and he remained in the same condition until he died about 12.50 that morning—on Monday, April 3rd, I made a post-mortem examination—I found no external signs of injury, but on removing the brain I found an extensive fracture at the base of the skull—that would hardly be consistent with a fall on the back of the head—the fracture extended to the hole in the bottom of the skull through which the spinal cord enters, and it radiated from there—it was consistent with a fall on to the top or side of the head or with a kick by a boot—I cannot say if I should expect to find marks of violence upon the head if the fracture had been caused by a lack from a boot—if it was a sharp pointed tipped boot it might have given the injury; the side of the boot would not have given it—it could have been very severe without leaving any mark—the force must have been violent to cause such an extensive injury—the force could be violent without showing any outward sign, such as a man falling from a height into a bale of wool, or falling on his feet on to a soft mass—if the deceased had been thrown very violently into the roadway, this extensive fracture might have been caused then, and there might have been a mark left—I do not think you could throw anybody into the road with all your might without marking his head—if the deceased wore a cap he might fall without showing any signs.
JOHN JENKINS (Re-examined). I have formed the opinion that the injury was due to some violence directed to the top of the skull—a kick at the top of the skull might have done it—I do not think a kick with the aide of a boot would necessarily leave any mark, but I cannot state it as a fact—I have never heard of a man kicking anything with the side of his boot—a sudden jar or jerk would, I think, cause the injury—a sudden jar may have injured the inside of the head, and not the outside.
Cross-examined. Assuming a man of the prisoner's height was kicking a man on the ground on the head, or on the side of the neck, I should expect to find bruises—it would not be possible for a man to lock another on the head without doing so, unless he kicked him with the side of his boot, but I cannot say if the force would be sufficient then to break his skull.
LEONARD HAMMANT (701 T.) On Sunday, April 2nd, at 3.45 a.m., I saw the prisoner in Garvan Road—I cautioned him, and said I should take him into custody for assaulting a man named Tomlin, who had since died—he replied, "You have made a mistake this time; I know nothing about it. I can prove where I have been since about 7.30 p.m., and I have not been out since. I was with Bill Watson at 49, Chelmsford Street, all that time until now. I thought there was something wrong when I saw you here"—at the station he said, "I went home about 6.45 and gave my sister Ethel my money and left again, and got to Watsons' about 7.30 p.m. As to Tomlin, I thought it was him that set Tomlin on to me, and he gave me a black eye last Saturday week"—at the station Tomlin's name had been mentioned as Tomlin, not Robert Tomlin—I do not know the christian name—later that morning the prisoner said, "I did go out for a pint of beer in a bottle. I went to the Pear Tree I do not know
what time it was?"—he was then taken to the charge room, where a man named Watson was detained, and the prisoner said, "Are you detained here too?"—he then turned to me and said, "He has nothing to do with it"—when charged he said, "I am innocent, and know nothing of it"—he was dressed in a darkish mixture trousers and vest, black boots, and dark coloured tie, and a collar attached.
Cross-examined. I do not know where the collar and tie are now—the prisoner at once told me where he had been the night before—there are several other Tomlins; one had given the prisoner a black eye, and one had knocked him over the head with a bottle—a lad named Watson told me that the prisoner had done this—he came to the station door and said, "I know who done it; it was Jim Rice that kicked him"—I believe Watson was called in to identify the prisoner, but I was not there—I cannot say that, although Watson said it was Jim Rice and described him, he could not pick him out when he was called in.
ISRAEL BEDFORD (Detective-Sergeant T.) About 4.30 a.m. on April 2nd a man named William Watson was arrested at 49, Chelmsford Street, and brought to the station—Kirby and Lester saw him amongst others, but were unable to pick him out, and he was liberated—the same two witnesses saw the prisoner amongst a number of others, and picked him out—I was present when he was charged with murder by Collins—he said "I am innocent; I do not know that man at all. I think it was the greengrocer's son. I never touched the man"—I was present on April 11th when Smith picked him out from eleven other men.
Cross-examined. The other people who did not identify the prisoner were Dowden, Frank Watson, and a boy named Groom or Broom—I did not have a conversation with Watson as to the man who had done this—Watson did not tell me that the man who had done it was a thin man, and dressed in a blue serge suit—he told me it was Rice who did it, but he did not say anything about the boots—after the prisoner was arrested he was placed with other men, and the inspector took young Watson in—the prisoner was the only man who had a black eye, and yet Watson was unable to pick him out, he did not even know his own brother—Hood and Kirby and I called at the prisoner's house, but not together—Hood and I called about 12 o'clock; Kirby was not with us—Hood and Kirby went before I called, and I called afterwards by myself—I saw the two sisters—Kirby and Hood were then in the road about fifty yards off—I did not ask the prisoner's sister if the prisoner was wearing a bowler hat that night—I did not ask her if she would describe her brother to me; if she said I did, it would be wrong—neither of the sisters described their brother—she did not say he had a black eye, and I did not ask her—I was present at the Police Court when she swore that she had told me he had a black eye—they did not tell me that Tomlin had given him a black eye the week before, nor that another Tomlin had struck her brother over the head with a bottle—she asked me if I had come to see about a man who had been assaulted in Greyhound Road—I did not tell her I was a police officer, nor the name of the man—she said she had heard about an assault, but she did not mention the name—Hood had already called upon her to see if
her brother was at home—I saw the sisters a lot of times, and spoke to them twice—I did not go to Watson's that night; I went there on Sunday morning with Inspector Collins—I did not ask Mrs. Watson to make a statement—she made a statement to Collins—I did not say I had another independent witness—I went to the Watson's on April 3rd to get a statement signed which Mrs. Watson had made to Collins—I read the statement to her; she did not complain that the statement was incorrect—she swore at the Police Court that she told me that statement was incorrect, but I had another officer with me when it was signed, and she then said it was all right—I did not tell her that I would rectify the statement before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. I was at the police station when the deceased was brought in about 10.30 p.m.—at that time I did not get any description of the man who was supposed to have caused the injury, but Hammant came in and said, "Here is a boy, sergeant, who saw it," and the boy said, "It is Jim Rice who did it"—I did not know Rice then, but Hammant did, and I got him to go out with me in plain clothes to assist me—he knewwhom to look for, and no description was necessary—we went straight to the prisoner's house, and saw the two sisters to ascertain if he was at home—if he had been at home I should have arrested him—I left the officers to wait until he came home, when he was arrested—Watson is ten or eleven years old, I think—he did not recognise the prisoner and said he did not know his own brother—the prisoner and Watson were standing in a row at the time.
FREDERICK TOMLIN . I live at 10, Chelmsford Street, and work at my mother's, who is a greengrocer at 86, Greyhound Road, which is at the corner of Bayonne Road—the deceased was a distant relative of mine and was just like me—he wore a very light moustache—he was the same as I am in height, size and everything—I know the prisoner well enough—I have had two little fights with him—I hit him on the head with a claret bottle once before Christmas—we were sober—it was outside a public-house—we got on pretty well after that—about a week before the death, we had a bit of a bother, but it did not come to anything because I walked away—the prisoner walked into me as I was having a drink—he asked me if I put Fred Tomlin on to him—I said, "No, I do not want to know anything about you or Fred Tomlin"—that is the Tomlin who lives at Barnes—I live at Fulham—the prisoner asked me if I put the Barnes Tomlin on to him—I had not put the Barnes Tomlin on to the prisoner—on the night this happened I came up and saw Robert Tomlin in the road, and I got hold of him and told him to go to the station quietly—I did not see the prisoner that night.
Cross-examined. The prisoner summoned me for our little difference—when we met outside the West London Police Court we agreed to drop it and shook hands—we did not turn up for the summons, and we have been pretty good friends since, until he asked me if I had put the other Tomlin on to him.
nothing about his appearance—about a week before the tragedy I had met him—he brought on a drunken squabble which ended in a fight—I struck him in the eye—I should think the force of the blow would give him a black eye—I struck him twice.
Cross-examined. He retaliated—on April 1st we were in the Devonshire Arms—he did not seem to bear any ill feeling—the other quarrel was just an ordinary one which we have among ourselves when we get a bit boozed.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on April 1st he got home from work about 7p. m.; that he did not change his clothes, as he had no others; that he went straight to the Watsons' house at 49, Chelmsford Street; that he went to the Pear Tree about 7.45, and bought half a pint of stout and a pint of ale and took it book to the Watsons' in a bottle, arriving about 8 p.m.; that Mr. Watson and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Curl, and himself all had some of the beer; that he and Watson and Curl then went to the Pear Tree and had a drink; that they returned to Watsons' about 8.45 with some more beer; that he went to sleep and did not remember any more till he had some supper given to him by Mrs. Watson; that the others left the room and that he did not remember any more till he woke up in the Watsons' room about 3.30 a.m.: that he did not go outside the house from the time he returned from the Pear Tree till Mrs. Watson gave him some supper, when she told him that a man had been killed in Carvan Road named Tomlin and that she had heard that he had done it; that he said, "I have been with Bill all night," and offered to go to the station, but that she said, "Don't go, as they will look you up for being drunk "; that when he had had supper he must have gone to sleep again; that when he woke up at 3 a.m. he walked home and was then arrested.
The COURT considered that the evidence was not sufficiently clear, and the Jury returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 30th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
455. CHARLES YOUNG (45), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling 15s. and 10s. 6d., the moneys of Batey & Co., Limited; also to forging and uttering a receipt for goods to the value of £1 18s. 6d., their property; having been convicted of felony at Sunbury, Middlesex, on October 21st, 1895. Nine months' hard labour. —
(456.) HENRY ARTHUR GILSON (45) , to, while being a director of H. A. Gilson, Limited, omitting to make, or cause to be made full and proper entries, and to making false entries in the books of that company. He received an excellent character. Three months' imprisonment in the Second Division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(457.) RICHARD EDWARD KING (50) , to obtaining from Edward Silverlock 282 stereotyped plates; from Robert Woodger Bowers three gallons of ink and 5,000 copies of a book by false pretences with intent to defraud; and to obtaining credit from John Lester Gear for £7 9s. under false pretences. Six months' imprisonment in the Second Division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(458.) HENRY MASON PLAISTO BUSKIN (69) , to obtaining from Samuel Ernest George Von Schultz trading as Morris & Company, credit for £40, and a further credit of £40, from John William Todd £41 5s., and from Edward Coventry £209 7s. 6d., without informing them that he was an undischarged bankrupt. Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LEWIS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
(See page 943).
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. HUGHES Defended.
WALTER MCDOUGALL . I am wharf clerk to F. Meyer's Sohn, Limited, of 17, Mincing Lane, sugarbrokers—we have been interested in the sale of a commodity called Moloweat, and appointed agents to canvass for orders—among the agents was the prisoner, who was appointed on March 17th, 1904—Moloweat is a mixture of molasses and other things for feeding horses and cattle—the terms were that the prisoner was to be paid 10 per cent, on all orders, subject to the receipt of the amounts of the invoice from his buyers—he was told never to collect money—the first agreement was verbal, but this is the prisoner's letter of March 19th, 1904 (Acknowledging receipt of agreement, and confirming the verbal agreement, and stating that the Moloweat was to be sold at £5 a ton net, and that the commission would be payable to the prisoner on the amounts when received]—he had no authority to collect moneys—he sent in thirty-eight orders from customers, amounting to £252—I received from Mr. Carter, a customer, £3 3s. 9d., upon which I sent the prisoner 6s. 4d. due to him for commission—altogether I think he has had £3 2s. 6d. on account of his commissions—he wrote asking for money for expenses, and I think he had £1 at that time—I made continuous applications to customers whose names he had sent to me—I got no payment—I commenced an action against Carter in the Mayor's Court—in the course of that action Carter produced a receipt signed by the prisoner for the amount I was suing him for, and I had to pay the costs—I made inquiries and ascertained that a similar sum had been collected from a Mr. Strickland—in consequence my solicitor swore an information, and a warrant was granted by the Magistrate.
Cross-examined. The prisoner worked for our firm from March till October, 1904—in October he was soliciting orders for us in his district
of Hammersmith—we sued about twelve people besides Carter—we got judgments in our favour, but we could not get the money—when the prisoner wrote to the firm for commission we told him to see his buyers and to get the amount remitted.
GEORGE STRICKLAND . I am a contractor, of 10, Greenside Road, Shepherd's Bush—I ordered a ton of Moloweat cattle food from the prisoner at £6 10s.—on August 6th he called on me, and I paid him the £6 10s.—this is the receipt, signed in the name of Shepherd—I know him as Shepherd and Howard too.
CHARLESSS CARTER . I reside at Alexandra Cottage, Alexandra Yard, West Kensington, and am a cabman—I ordered some Moloweat from the prisoner, one ton at first, and afterwards three tons more, which came to £18—on March 17th he called for payment—I paid him the £18 and he gave me this receipt, which I produced when I was summoned, and the action failed.
ALBERT ALDRIDGE (Detective T.) I arrested the prisoner on a warrant, which I read to him, and which charged him with misappropriating £6 10s. and £18—he said, "I am surprised; the firm owe me a considerable amount of money, and what I collected I had to pay myself, and I should do so now. I had to push trade, and pay the expenses. That will be my defence."
The prisoner withdrew his flea and stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was guilty.
GUILTY . Three months' imprisonment in the Second Division.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, May 30th, 1905.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
461. JACOB BAROVITCH (29) and MARK VOLSTEIN (29) , Burglary in the dwelling house of Abraham Blumenthal, and stealing 90 1/2 lbs. of tobacco, thirty-three boxes of cigarettes, and £1 10s. 10 1/2 d. in money. BAROVITCH PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. FRITH Prosecuted.
ABRAHAM BLUMENTHAL . I am a tobacconist, of 179, Banbury Street, E.—I locked up my premises before going to bed at 12 p.m. on May 8th—when I got up at 7 a.m. next day I found the back door had been broken open and two large holes had been bored in the door—I found the money-box in the yard, and that 90 1/2 lbs. of. tobacco, thirty-three boxes of cigarettes, and £1 10s. 10 1/2 d. in money had disappeared—a police-sergeant came and examined the place—the value of the goods was between £30 and £40—I have the goods and money now.
MICHAEL O'SULLIVAN (272 H.) At 5.15 a.m. on May 9th I was in Baiter Street, when I saw the prisoners pushing a barrow—they were half a mile from the prosecutor's place—I did not know them before—the barrow was full of tobacco, cigarettes, and matches—they went up Salter Street—I went there and they were outside a door—Barovitch
rushed to the door—I followed him—Volstein jumped from behind the door and rushed out—I arrested Barovitch—a sergeant came up, and we forced our way to the back room and found the sacks there—it was Volstein's room; he and Barovitch tried to stop us—the sacks contained cigarettes, loose tobacco, and matches—Volstein was not present—Mrs. Volstein was charged—she has been discharged—we found a jack, a forcing screw, a chisel, and a jemmy—I have compared the marks with these instruments.
Cross-examined by Volstein. I saw the barrow outside at the time I went in—your wife said you occupied the room—Barovitch told me he was your lodger.
By the COURT. I was engaged inside, and they tried to escape—they tried to force me outside—Volstein's man could have taken away the barrow—it was five minutes before the sergeant came up.
JAMES RICHARDSON (Sergeant H.) On May 9th, at 5.15, I was in Salter Street—I saw O'Sullivan standing in the door of 77, Salter Street—I found Barovitch and Rose Volstein inside—Barovitch made a statement—I went upstairs—Volstein prevented me from going into the room—I asked him where he got this property—he replied, Don't understand."
Cross-examined by Volstein. I saw you going away with the barrow.
THOMAS SMART . (P.C. H.) On May 11th Volstein was brought to the station—he made this statement after being cautioned, which I took down (Read): "1 had a room to let. There was a bill out in the window, and this man Barovitch passed and came in to ask for the room; he looked at the room and asked me how much. I said 3s. 6d.; he said his wife is a servant and he goes to move in next week with her; meantime he live here alone. The day before the stealing he said to me, 'I am going to shift in here tomorrow morning, in the presence of my missus. Will you help me? I will give you 1s. 6d. I replied, 'All right, and in the evening he said he was going to sleep where his things are, and going to pack them up, and tomorrow morning he would come for me to help him to get it over to me; next morning as I was in bed he came up and woke me, and I went with him and took a barrow and went to that place. He told me to stop outside by the barrow, and he and another man brought these sacks out and he told me, 'Now you can go; we will come by-and-bye again. 'I went as far as Brick Lane under the railway bridge. I got tired and stopped to rest. Barovitch went and took for me the barrow; he pushed it along up to the house. The other man was alongside the barrow. I went behind them a good bit off, because I was very tired. Before I come up to the door I saw this policeman standing at a corner, and the stuff was off all right. Barovitch said, 'Take the barrow and give it back.' I did not know what was going on here. I went into the market to buy something. About 10 I met a man in town and he said,' You know your missus and another man is locked up for some stolen property which was found at your house this morning. The next day I went to see her, and ask what was the matter, and this detective locked me up."
Volstein, in his defence on oath, said that Barovitch came to ask for lodgings and engaged a bedroom at 3s. 6d.; that he said, "I am going to shift tomorrow, will you help me? I will give you 1s. 6d. "; that he (Volstein) said, "All right "; that he came the next morning and woke him up, and asked him to come and take his things; that he took the barrow and went to this place: that he took him (Volstein) to the shop, and gave him the stuff outside; that he (Volstein) took the barrow away until he got tired, and then Barovitch took the barrow, and he remained behind; that when he got to the house the stuff was off; that he went to the market, and a man came and said, "Your missus has been licked up for receiving stolen property "; that he bought one of the tools for sixpence, for opening some orange boxes; that the others did not belong to him; and that he was afraid to go to the police station.
Evidence for the Defence.
Cross-examined. I did not obstruct the police—I know nothing about these tools—they were not used by my husband—they were found in the sack of things.
GUILTY . BAROVITCH then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at North London Sessions— Twelve months' hard labour. VOLSTEIN— Six months' hard labour.
MR. LEWIS Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended.
SAMUEL PARKER . I am a labourer, of 64, High Road, Clapton—on Saturday, May 6th, I was in a public-house in Leman Street—I saw Russell, I believe—he asked me to have a drink—I went into the urinal—he pushed me in—Campbell came up—one put his arm round my neck and took my money from my right-hand pocket—after he had put his hand in my pocket my money was gone—he struck me twice on my face—I was knocked down—a policeman took him to the station—he said, "Search his other pockets; he has more pockets than one"—I found the money in my jacket pocket—I had not a penny in that pocket before.
Cross-examined. I did not know Campbell before—he paid for the drink—I did not take any money out—I came from New Gravel Lane—I had been re-constructing a gully—the urinal is a very small place—I was looking towards the wall—I could not see properly—one pushed past me, one came behind me—I could not see either of them for the moment—I held the one whom I believed had the money—I cannot tell who put his arm round my neck—there were a good many people about—I caught hold of Campbell by the collar—I struck him and he struck me—my wages were 26s. 3d.—there was only one entrance to the urinal—it is only just a convenient place for one man—I cannot identify Russell for certain.
By the COURT. I identify Campbell.
Re-examined. It is a very narrow place—just room to squeeze in.
FREDERICK GOODING (Detective H.) At 7.15 p.m. on Saturday, May 6th, I was in Hooper Square—I saw Campbell strike the prosecutor, and the other man was in the act of doing so—Campbell saw me and ran off—I caught him and the prosecutor said, "You have robbed me; you have taken my purse, a 4s. piece and 6d."—at the police station Campbell was very insistent on having the prosecutor's other pockets searched—when charged he replied, "Very good, sir"—Russell was there at the time—I saw Russell strike at him.
Cross-examined. Some other detective went to Russell's house—his bed was searched—I know the man—there was not a great crowd, only a few people from Rupert Square—they dispersed when I came up—Russell lives about a mile and a quarter from Rupert Street—there is a good deal of traffic about on Saturday night—I can walk a mile and a quarter in a quarter of an hour.
ALBERT SHEAD (Detective H.) I know the prisoners—I have seen them together continually during two months—I saw them last together on May 6th—they were a short distance from where the robbery took place.
Cross-examined. I have seen Russell two or three times a week, almost nightly—I did not see him on Wednesday, or Friday, or Thursday—I saw him on May 6th, just the same as on other nights—I did not take particular notice.
Campbell, in his defence on oath, said that he thought he knew the prosecutor; that he asked him if he knew a friend of his; that they had a drink at the Mint Street public-house; that they did not have any at the White Swan; that he was round the other side of the public-house; that nothing was found in his pockets; and that he had been drinking heavily and was much excited.
Russell, in his defence on oath, said that he lived at Cady Street, two miles away; that he knew Campbell; that he was arrested two days afterwards; that he was at a barber's shop; that he lived with his wife; that two other people lived in the house; and that he spoke to them on Saturday after 9 o'clock.
Evidence for the Defence.
ALICE SCOTT . I am not Russell's wife; I live with him—I remember the morning when the detective took him away—I never knew what for until I took him some tea, when I was told—I was out with him on the night of the robbery from 9 to 11, marketing—when I left to go to the pawnbroker's soon after 7 he was in the house—I went out with him and another young woman. Lilian Ayles—she was at the house from half-past 3 till 11 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I was indoors from 6 to 9—I was in the house until I went to Leman Street—Russell went out at half-past 5 to get a shave.
6th I was with him and his wife from 3.30 till 11 o'clock—I went out with them shopping—he wanted to have a shave—I did not go with him.
Cross-examined. I never lost sight of him—he was there from 3.30 to 11, and never moved—he was in bed when I went—he got up—when he went to get a shave he was out of my sight.
RUSSELL NOT GUILTY . CAMPBELL GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on April 16th, 1902, at the Mansion House. The police stated he had been in prison constantly since 1894. Three years' penal servitude.
(464.) ARCHIBALD HOBBS (29) , to forging and uttering a bill of exchange for £8 10s. 6d. with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony at West London Police Court on July 15th, 1902. One other conviction was proved against him. Two years' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(466.) LUCY IRWIN (27) , to forging and uttering three orders for the payment of £4, £6, and £5. Four other convictions were proved against her. Twelve months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
MR. WIGG Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended.
SOLOMON GOLDSTEIN . I am a cycle manufacturer, carrying on business in Whitechapel Yard—John Goldstein came to me and hired a bicycle on March 7th—I next saw it on May 14th in Club Row—alterations had been made to it—Goldstein said it belonged to his brother-inlaw, Shoolman, who said the bicycle belonged to him—Goldstein was charged—my name was on the bicycle.
Cross-examined. It is easy to alter the appearance of a bicycle; that is why I put my name upon it—the saddle was not mine, nor the handle bars, nor the brake—the mudguard had been altered—when I saw Shoolman he said the bicycle was his—I showed him my name on it—the moment he saw the name he said, "The bicycle is not mine."
FREDERICK GOODING (Detective H.) On May 14th the prosecutor came to the police station with John Goldstein—I told him I was a police officer and was making inquiries about the bicycle—John Goldstein said the bicycle was his; he could prove it by a dozen persons—he said, "I bought it in Club Row"—I showed him the name—he said, "It is my bicycle."
Cross-examined. I know the handle and saddle does not belong to the prosecutor—I mentioned this before the Magistrate; he cut a lot of it out—I did not have a row at the police station—I did not have a drink
with Shoolman—I paid for my own refreshment—Sergeant Watson issued the warrant for his apprehension—I told the Magistrate I had seen Shoolman in Court on Tuesday—he told me he had a bicycle of his own.
Re-examined. This prosecution was instituted at the instigation of the Magistrate.
BENJAMIN SEESON (Detective H.) I arrested the prisoner on May 17th at his house, on a charge of receiving—in answer to the charge he said, "I wish I had nothing to do with it, but I can easily get out of it"—he is a thoroughly respectable man—there is not a word against him—I could always have found him when I wanted him.
NOT GUILTY . GOLDSTEIN Discharged on recognisances.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, May 31st, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. WARBURTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, May 31st and June 1st, and
OLD COURT.—Friday, June 2nd, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ELLIOTT, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against MARK SPECTERMAN— NOT GUILTY . SIMON SPECTERMAN PLEADED GUILTY — Three days' imprisonment.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES and MR. GAYTHORNE HARDY Defended.
JACOB KLEISHEI (Interpreted). I am a process server to the Cantonal Court of Zurich—from March 21st to April 3rd I was on my honey-moon—on April 2nd I went to the Nervi Flower Festival at Genoa, and was in a crowd where the trams stop—I had eight coupons in a pocket-book in my right-hand pocket—five of those coupons are produced—I
have the securities corresponding with them—I was wearing a Kodak with a strap from right to left—I missed my pocket-book next morning—the gentleman with whom I was lodging gave information to the police at Genoa, and I gave information to the bank at Zurich.
Cross-examined. I took the coupons with me on my honeymoon, for safety, but I was mistaken—I gave information to the bank at Zurich on my return there on April 5th.
HAROLD CLYDE MESSENGER . I am a clerk to A. Keyser & Co., foreign bankers, 21, Cornhill—on April 26th the prisoner called at the bank and left these five coupons with me of the Banque Populaire Suisse—I gave him this receipt—I sent them to our correspondents, the Banque Federale, Zurich—I got this telegram on May 5th [Stopping payment] and at once communicated with the police—I saw the prisoner write the list of the five coupons—he gave his name and address as M. Robin, 7, Church Lane, E.—the coupons are of the value of about £2 each—the writing in this letter is like the prisoner's [Exhibit B.]—after his arrest I sent to the Banque Federale for the return of the coupons—I did not receive them—we never got any money for them.
Cross-examined. We always pay by crossed cheque—we should not take a stranger's cheque—I read French—I do not know what "lausagne" means.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner, I believe, on three occasions about the beginning of May—he called to know if we had been advised to pay the coupons—he would be informed that we could not cash securities until they had been to Zurich, or the place where they originally came from—there are no dividend marks on the coupons, and we did not know the dividend the holders were entitled to—they were in our possession for over two days—we would have delivered them up to the prisoner his receipt.
JAMES MURPHY (Detective-Inspector City). On May 5th, about 11 a.m., I received the prisoner into custody as he was leaving Keyser's office, 21, Cornhill—I was with a detective-sergeant—I said to the prisoner, "We are police officers. I am making some inquiries respecting five coupons of the Banque Populaire Suisse that you presented for payment on the 26th of last month at Keyser's Bank, Cornhill. I am told they are stolen "—he said, "I did not know they were stolen. I bought them about two weeks ago from a man whose name and address I do not know, at the Cafe Zimmer, Grand Boulevard, Paris"—on the way to the station he said, "Do you think I would have taken them to the bank if I knew they were stolen, and have given my correct name and address?"—he made no reply to the charge—on searching him I found this letter from Messrs. Keyser upon him, this paper with the name Max Levin on it, of the United States, the letter and envelope B & BI—he said his name was Robin—I have known him as Robinowitz since 1893—he said he got this naturalization paper in the name of Max Levin from an American in London.
Cross-examined. He gave me an address where he said he slept the night previous to his arrest, but not the address of an hotel where he stayed in Paris—he did not give me a card or we should have had inquiries made about it—he is known as Robin, the English equivalent of Robinowitz.
ISAAC BENJAMIN . I keep a restaurant at 7, Church Lane, E.—I have known the prisoner as Robinowitz about five yean—he had meals at my place—looking at my book I see entries which show me he was there every day from April 1st to 15th, and 17th to 21st, inclusive—the 16th being Sunday, he was not there—he was also there on May 3rd and 4th—I put his name down because he did not pay me—he owes me—I 9s. 5d.—he had his letters addressed there.
Cross-examined. I am a Russian Jew—I put down the names given me—I receive letters addressed to customers under my name.
FREDERICK BOYLE . I am night superintendent at 145, High Street, Whitechapel, an hotel and restaurant—I do not know the prisoner—I produce the hotel books of persons who sleep there—I have a name of Robin on May 4th, who is a Canadian, and not the prisoner.
Cross-examined. An inspector called at the hotel, and that is why I am here.
JOHN WATT . I am a translator of languages—I produce my translations of a letter and an envelope, B & B1 (Read): "Dear Friend,—You have no doubt received my letter which I wrote you from Paris. Upon returning to London I thought of starting at once with Charles for Russia. The lausagne is quite ready to be negotiated, but one cannot rely on people like Charles & Co. Twice a day they alter their promises, and one does not know what to hold on to. Last week a workman, William, an Englishman (with whom you had dealings on starting from London), came to London with a good lausagne of seventy-five bags"—written under is, "Banque Populaire Suisse, Berne, 6, Rue Christoffle. P. 517, 758, Grand Hotel. Villa Igea, Palermo"—the envelope is, "Mr. Arthur, 50, Rue Montgrand, Marseillis Bouche du Rhone, France"—I have looked at several dictionaries, and made inquiries, but I do not know what." lausagne "means.
Cross-examined. I do not think the word means the wife of a cossack—the letters are "lau "and "gne," and not" cau "and "que"—" cossque" is used as a term of reproach—it occurs twice.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he met a gentleman at the Cafe Zimmer, who sat at the same table, and in conversation said he wanted to go to Italy, but had not the cash, only the coupons, and that after inquiry at the Credit Lyonnais he (the prisoner) bought the coupons for forty-five francs, but had no knowledge that they were stolen.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on May 1st, 1893, of forging an order for the payment of money. He was stated to be an associate of a dangerous gang of Continental thieves, and to have been convicted at the Court of Assize of the Seine, and it was stated there were two other convictions against him. Seven years' penal servitude.
473. FRANK CLARABUTT (36) and HENRY SIDNEY JENN (35) , Conspiring to falsify certain books of Abraham Israel and another, trading as Israel & Joel, and omitting material particulars with intent to defraud. CLARABUTT PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. MUIR and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. GUY STEPHENSON appeared for Clarabutt, and MR. FORREST FULTON for Jenn.
FRANK CLARABUTT (The prisoner). I was a clerk in the service of Mr. Sidford, an accountant, of 1, New Court, Carey Street—I was employed in keeping the books of Israel & Joel for some time—I had a salary of £2 10s. a week—Jenn kept the Sold Ledger—he was a clerk to Israel & Joel at £2 5s. a week—the debits in the Sold Ledger are written up from the Day Book, and the credits from the Cash Book—I checked the Sold Ledger with another clerk every week—if the debit entries were not there the clerk would make a note which would be handed to Jenn, and the error pointed out to him; that is what I ought to have done—the credits were not called, but posted direct by Jenn from the Cash Book—those were checked by two of Sidford's clerks—in September or October, 1903, Jenn spoke to me—I cannot give you the exact words, but the effect of his proposition was that I should pass certain omissions, and that the customer would pay him half, which he would divide with me—I did not agree to that at first, but afterwards I did—in pursuance of that arrangement I received money from Jenn from time to time—another method of falsification was that I should put entries into the ledger of cheques that never came, representing moneys that had never been paid—I did that, and received money from Jenn for the transaction, amounting to £150 or £160—looking at the account of Marsh in the Sold Ledger I see that under the date of July 9th, 1904, I entered a cheque of £29 18s.; October 31st, 1904, a cheque for £61 2s., 6d. and empties £7 1s.; December 3rd, a cheque for £7 3s. 6d.; January 20th, 1905, a cheque for £28 1s. 3d., and empties £8 2s.; July 27th, a cheque for £46 10s. 6d.; March 2nd, a cheque for £98 7s. 9d., and empties £19; March 9th, a cheque for £80 2s. 11d. all those entries are in my writing—I had no duty in connection with the entries in that ledger except in Jenn's absence—they are all fictitious entries, I believe; I speak from memory—they are my ticks opposite to them—the ticks should have been those of the accountant's clerk, Kelly—looking at the Day Book for the Russell Street shop, I find the entry of 11 flats of grapes, 153 1/2 lbs. at 10d., £6 9s. 8d., under the date of December 1st, 1903—that is ticked in the ledger—the Day Book was kept by the clerk Gorman—I cannot swear to the tick, but I know whose tick it should be—it is made in green ink in the ordinary way—it was Jenn's duty to pass these entries into the ledger—in the same entry is 33s. for empties, ticked in green ink, and as far as I can see it is the same tick as applied to the immediately preceding entries—looking at the ledger, I find two entries preceding that of the grapes, and two following it in Jenn's writing—they are ticked in the same way as this one—they are 5 bags of Brazil nuts, 5 of almonds, 6 bags of flowers, and 100 flowers, but there is no entry of the grapes where it should be in the middle of those four
entries—turning to the account of Bonning, under date of April 23rd 1904, I find the entry of a cheque for £62 13s. 6d. in Jenn's writing—the entry of July 16th, 1904, of a cheque for £20 14s. 3d., and empties, £14s., it in my writing—it is not genuine—there ought to have been nothing there—the tick should be that of one of Mr. Sidford's clerks, not mine—the counterfoil of the Receipt Book shows a receipt from G. Bonner of 13s. 6d.—the name should be Bonning—that entry of £62 13s. 6d. on July 16th is altered from the 13s. 6d.—my entry of December 7th, 1904, of a cheque for £17 5s. 1d., and empties, £2 9s., is fictitious; also that of July 21st, 1906, of a cheque for £29 8s. 4d., and empties, £1 2s.—the entry of July 29th, 1904, is in Jenn's writing—looking to Bonning's ledger account of that date, I find two entries of 10 1/2 bushels of greengages, and 10 1/2 bushels of plums in Jenn's writing—there are two Day Books for one shop, and one for the other—looking at the Day Book for Russell Street, on July 29th I find the entry of 20 half bushels of pears, 20 bags of tomatoes, and 2 flats of cucumbers, ticked as if they were entered in the ledger with the same sort of tick—the ledger was made up every day—the books of the two shops were kept in the same office—they were checked, not necessarily the same day, but as soon as convenient—the books of the Russell Street shop, and of the South Row shop never left the office—Jenn was employed at the South Row office—the Day Books are made up from the sale tickets which are sent from the shops to the office where the books are kept—turning to Newman's account under date January 1st, 1905 find an entry of a cheque for £13 9s. in my writing—that is not fictitious, as well as the entry of the 25th of £23 4s. 4d.—on December 15th, 1903, I find in the ledger, "50 bags of potatoes, empties 25s. price 90s. balance £9 5s.,"and in the Russell Street Day Book, "20 cases of dates at 8s. 9d. balance £5 4s. 2d."—the latter is not entered in the ledger, though it is ticked as if it were—the entry of 50 bags of potatoes in the ledger is in Jenn's writing—the entry in the Day Book is that of a clerk—the 20 cases of dates is in the same writing—on April 12th Mr. Sidford spoke to me about some false entries—I made a statements to him, and pointed out the entries in the books—I told Jenn later on that day what Mr. Sidford had said—Jenn had been called into the office and we were there together—our attention was called to the £62 first—I told Jenn that I thought the best thing he could do was to make a clean breast of it—he said, "No, I do not think so"—on the same day I saw him at a public-house, near the market, later on, about 1.30 or 2 o'clock, in the luncheon interval—I still advised him to come back to the office and own up—he promised he would do so the next day—he did not come back to the office—I was suspended the same day, about 12 o'clock, and returned at 6 in the evening—I saw Mr. Sidford—I was told to stay away for a few days—Jenn called at my house—very little was said—I did not see him again till last Tuesday after the police-sergeant had arrested him.
Cross-examined. From November, 1903, till April 7th, 1905, there is no entry in Jenn's writing except one of £56 13s. 6d.—it did not strike me that it would look suspicious for the cash entries to appear in my writing in a book kept by him—it does not appear so now—an audit is
made by Mr. Sidford and his clerks, apart from me—there are a number of genuine entries in my writing in the ledger of money payments—here is one of £3 14s. and another of £2 0s. 6d. of another customer—my fictitious entries do not extend over two years—the clerk Gorman received some of the Proceeds of' this fraud—we can identify one another's ticks, as different people make their ticks in different ways—there are genuine mistakes in the entries—I had nothing to do with checking payments—I ticked the credits in the ledger—it was not Gorman's duty to call out to Jenn the entries which he had made in the Day Book from the tickets—I made entries from the Day Book into the ledger in a good many instances, covering a considerable period—another clerk named Coleman checked the entries in the ledger—I know the porter, Levy—he carries the goods from the shop to the van of the customer when it is waiting outside—I have not heard of complaints being made of Gorman not entering the goods—Jenn's words to me were not, "I know nothing about it, but I cannot explain the entry of the £62"—that is not the substance of what he said—I do not know of any difficulties with the firm as to Michael Israel keeping the books—I do not know that the books were removed from the office—I do not know that they were moved at the request of Mr. Joel—it is very difficult to keep accounts of large dealings of this kind by different clerks.
Reexamined. My entry of July 9th, 1904, of a cheque for £29 18s. is the earliest of my fictitious entries, to the best of my belief—the stock was checked each week—I passed over the omitted entries when the amounts were called out as if they appeared in the ledger—the fictitious entries were made after the checking, because they would not be referred back to—the books were balanced, to the best of my knowledge, once a year—a customer was credited with considerable amounts which he never, in fact, paid, and one entry was made to balance another—I have not stated' till to day that Gorman was a party to these frauds, if I may exclude what I have said to my legal adviser—Jenn paid Gorman—the money I had was given to me by Jenn, perhaps once a week, or not quite so often—I received about a third, not in a public-house, but in the office—I think I only received gold on two occasions—Gorman was only concerned with Marsh's account, so far as I know he knows nothing of the others—some of the money I have received on the way from Marsh's place of business—I went there with Jenn at night time once, and on a second occasion in the afternoon—the first occasion was about Christmas, 1903, and the second occasion early in March of the present year—Jenn went to Marsh's shop And I waited in the Harrow Road—Jenn took a turning out of the Harrow Road—on the first occasion I waited quite half an hour, and on the second occasion a good deal longer—when Jenn came back to me he gave me money—on the first occasion how much I do not remember, but on the second it was £6 or £8—Gorman assisted in the frauds in Marsh's case—he had nothing to do with omissions from the ledger; he simply knew what we were doing, therefore he had to stand in with the money—I did not tell him our proceedings were limited to Marsh—I did not tell him about Newman, so
that he got no share of that—I only made entries in the Day Book on very few occasions—I made them from the sale tickets—that is the regular course of business—I did it in another man's absence, in the case of illness or anything of that sort.
ERNEST EDWARD GORMAN . I was a clerk in the service of Israel & Joel—I kept the Day Book, and the Ledger Accounts of Sales and Empties—this is the rough Pay Book which I entered up from the tickets—these books were kept by Clarabutt and myself; he or I would call the tickets, which would then be entered—I usually made the entries—whatever is in the Day Book would properly go into the ledger—I did not know of any irregularities going on with regard to Marsh'sr account—the accountant's clerk checked the entries—he came once a week.
New Court, June 1st, 1905.
EDWIN GUY SIDFORD . I am an accountant practising at 1, New Court, Carey Street—for some time past I have had charge of the accounts of Israel & Joel—they are wholesale fruiterers in the market—the first document is the sale ticket, which is made out at the time of the sale, and is sent into the counting house—from it an entry is made into the Day Book—these tickets are numbered in numerical order and in series—there may be three series at a time—from the Day Book the entries, were posted into the Sold Ledger by Jenn, who was principally the Sold Ledger clerk—there were others—the accounts were sent out weekly on the Saturday by Jenn, made up from the Sold Ledger—they would be paid to the cashier, who was downstairs in the shop—they are supposed to be paid weekly, but sometimes they ran a little longer—the cashier would give a receipt upon a printed form—that was the only form of receipt recognised—those forms have running numbers like the one produced; then the cashier would enter the payment in a rough Cash Book, and from that they were copied into a Fair Copy Cash Book—that was Jenn's duty—it was also his duty to enter them into the customer's account in the ledger—this is a counterfoil receipt—on Tuesdays I checked the entries—I called out the, debit entries from the Day Book, while Clarabutt looked at the ledger—Clarabutt had nothing to do with the Sold Ledger except in Jenn's absence, and even then it was not necessary—I sent two clerks to check the credits of the customer with the Cash Book—the entries were ticked as they were checked—I see now the ticks of a different person—the entry of July 9th, 1904, in Marsh's account is not ticked by the regular clerk—that is a false entry of £29 18s.—it is in red ink—I have checked the entries of Marsh's credit in a ledger with the entries in the Cash Book of payments made by him, and the counterfoil receipt books in black ink, and in another column the red ink checkings of entries in the Cash Book, amounting to £559 11s. 5d., between July 9th, 1904, and March 9th of this year, in Clarabutt's writing—I find £559 11s. 5d. credited to Marsh, but those entries are fictitious—they have tickets other than those of the entering clerk—I know Clarabutt's ticks—these are his—the items must have been ticked
after they had been called over—he must have gone back and put them in, otherwise it must have been discovered—supposing the ledger was ticked on July 15th, the entry would be put in before that date—the ledger was not squared off weekly—the entry as to the five bags of Brazil nuts, etc., is omitted from the ledger—from the £559 11s. 5d. there has to be deducted £287 16s. 6d., the amount of falsification—I have prepared a similar exhibit with regard to Bonning's account, as to which I find a false credit amounting to £134 2s. 8d., and the fraudulent omissions to £105 1s. 7d., the total of both being £239 4s. 3d.—in Newman's account the false credits are £36 6s. 1d., and the improper omissions £106 5s. 10d., making a total of £142 11s. 11d.—I first gave evidence on April 26th, when these three exhibits were put in—at that time no process had been obtained against Marsh, Bonning or Newman, and I did not know what documents they might have in their possession—since their arrest documents have been found in their possession—with regard to Marsh's account I find a bundle of invoices which were found by the police and produced in Court—I have them in my hand—I have examined them with Israel & Joel's ledger—they are in Jenn's writing—it was his duty to make out those bills—in the accounts sent to Marsh there are a large number of omissions of items which appear even in the ledger and which are not included in the bills—I find the items so omitted from the accounts, but included in the ledger, exactly balance the false credits entered in the ledger, so far as they relate to these accounts—I have prepared a statement (Exhibit 7), which show those omissions and the corresponding false entries in the ledger to balance them, in red ink—the items in black are in the ledger, but omitted from the accounts—the fictitious entries which balance the omissions are shown in red ink—I knew nothing of the existence of those invoices found by the police at the time I made out this statement, but they exactly agree with the statement I made out—there are a double set of omissions, first the omissions of orders received, and there are other omissions of goods supplied—then entries are balanced by fictitious entries of cash which was never paid—I also find amongst the papers found by the police receipts for genuine payments, and some accounts not receipted—the receipts correspond with the genuine payments according to my exhibit—on the other hand 1 do not find any receipt for the fictitious payments—I have examined Marsh's banking account (Exhibit 8, produced)—I find that it shows payments which I have put in my exhibit as genuine, and no items in respect of payments which are fictitious—the fictitious items are not in Marsh's Pass Book—turning to Bonning's account, some documents were found by the police in his possession; amongst them were receipts—there were no receipts between January 16th and May 5th, 1904, but I find false entries from April 23rd and July 16th, 1904—an item of £62 settles all the accounts between those two dates—that is a false entry of a payment of £62, which purports to have been made on April 23rd, before some of the goods were supplied—the entry is in Jenn's writing—there is am absence of documents between those two dates—I find among the documents produced genuine payments on June 14th
and 18th, a false credit of £20 14s. 3d. and £1 4s. and in the documents produced by the police, unreceipted accounts for that sum of £21 18s. 3d.—all the others are receipted after that till I come to a group of false credits—the documents produced by the police exactly corroborate my statement which was made out some weeks before—at Bow Street, when I was being cross-examined by the defendant Newman's [Not yet tried] advocate some documents were put in, in his defence—on examining them I find there were debts ranging from May, 1698, to December, 1904—bills were produced which range from October, 1899, to October, 1903—Newmans banking account was also produced, in which I found entries of his genuine payments in every case, but the fictitious entries of April 26th are not in the banking account and there are no receipts for them—there are some receipts recording genuine payments—I find the fictitious entries are all in 1905, and that no accounts for 1905 are produced—the bills put in by Newman's counsel stop in November, 1903—the first falsification is on December 15th, as to twenty cases of dates—my attention was first called to this matter on April 12th, 1905, by my clerk Kelly, who was investigating some matter in connection with the accounts, but not connected with this case—I spoke to Jenn first of all about the item of Bonning being altered from 13s. 6d. to £62 13s. 6d.—in the other cases there is an entirely false entry, and this is the only case where the genuine and false entries are mixed—that is dated April 23rd—the entry now reads," Cheque. £62 13s. 6d."—the tick is genuine, but it really applies to the 13s. 6d.—Jenn's writing is peculiar—he makes his sixes in a peculiar way—I point out three of them—on April 12th I asked him how he could explain that item of £62 13s. 6d. in the ledger when he had in the Counterfoil Receipt Book 13s. 6d., all in his writing; I said, "How do you explain this?"—he looked at the items and said, "I cannot explain it. There it is; I suppose it is put in to balance"—he kept on repeating, "Oh! I cannot explain it," but he said they were his figures—I did not ask him that; I simply asked for an explanation—he said, "I think they are my figures"—he repeated about twenty times, "I cannot explain it. I think they are my figures; there it is"—I then called Clarabutt in, and Jenn and Clarabutt were together, and I showed Clarabutt one or two of the fictitious items as to Marsh, in Clarabutt's writing, and I said to him, "Where did you get that item from to pass into the ledger?"—he said, "From, the Cash Book"—I gave him the Cash Book and said, "Will you find it for me in the Cash Book?"—he looked for it, but did not find it—he still persisted it was in the Cash Book—Jenn was there all that time—he said nothing—it was about 11 a.m.—that was the last I saw of Jenn—I went to call him that morning, and it was said he had gone out—so far as I know, he did not attend Israel & Joel's office after that date—I was there daily about that time.
Cross-examined. I can distinguish the ticks of the different clerks in my employment by their position in the money column, but not mainly or largely by that, but by many other things, which distinguish ticks made by different clerks—they are of different angles—it may not be
very difficult, but it is not so easy as it seems to imitate another person's tick—I am not an expert in handwriting—I assisted Jenn in auditing the books of Israel & Joel—young Israel once balanced the accounts—I was managing clerk to Israel & Joel's previous accountant whom the firm gave up because they could not agree as to terms—I did not hear of any complaints made by customers about the accounts—the sale ticket never leaves the firm's possession—later in the day it is sent to the office, after the goods have been delivered—the goods could not go out without it—sometimes a portion of the goods are left over—the sale tickets were entered up by Gorman—goods are delivered as arranged at the time of the sale and taken there and then to the carts waiting for them—the firm sell the stuff that is in the shop—if certain goods are omitted which had been ordered they would be entered in blank in the Day Book—I never heard of the case of the goods being bought "To arrive"—the £62 entry is in the undisguised writing of Jenn, but the pen is thick.
EDWARD PENNY COLEMAN . I am a clerk in Mr. Sid ford's employment in his business of an accountant—part of my duty was to go weekly to Israel & Joel's office and tick the debits from the Day Book into the ledger with Clarabutt—I took the Day Book, and called out the entries from it—Clarabutt signified that the entries I called out were correct—I did not look at the ledger to see; I assumed that Clarabutt was doing his duty—on every occasion he took the ledger—the practice was for the senior clerk to take the ledger and the junior clerk the Day Book—I did that the whole time Clarabutt was there—when he was away I checked the books with someone else.
HAROLD KELLY . I am a clerk in Mr. Sidford's service as an accountant—when Coleman was away I called over the Day Book for the purpose of checking the entries into the ledger—I have heard Coleman's evidence—I checked the accounts in the same way—I assumed Clarabutt was doing his duty—I checked the credits with Coleman or a junior clerk—I am sure the fictitious entries were not in the ledger then—these are my ticks on the credit side of the ledger—since then this £62 has been put in—the other ticks are Clarabutt's—I know my own ticks and I know Coleman's—in my opinion these are Clarabutt's—I know his writing and figures—these figures, I think, are Jenn's—these fictitious entries are Clarabutt's.
Cross-examined. I would not go further than to say that the figures are like Jenn's—they could be imitated.
HARRY CALLAGHAN (Detective E.) I received a warrant from Inspector Dew on April 27th for Jenn's arrest, and executed it on the 28th at Hastings—I met Jenn coming towards the railway station—I said to him, "Your name is Jenn?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I hold a warrant for your arrest"—he did not reply, but afterwards he said, "I was just going to London to see the firm"—I took him to the police station, and read the warrant to him—it charged him with falsifying books—he said, "All right"—I brought him to London—when formally charged he said, "Very well."
Cross-examined. Something came to the knowledge of the police which led them to believe that Jenn' was at Hastings—I executed the warrant when he was coming to the railway station—his wife was with him.
WALTER DEW (Inspector E.) After Jenn's and Bonning's arrest I searched Jenn's premises, and found a number of receipted invoices which have been put in and marked Exhibit 7; also this unreceipted bill for £121 18s. 3d., and some of the documents produced in Marsh's and Newman's case.
Cross-examined. I knew there was an appointment between Jenn and his firm when the warrant was executed.
EDWIN GUY SIDFORD (Re-examined by the Jury). It did not strike me as extraordinary that 13s. 6d. could be paid by cheque—there is a smaller cheque for 1s. 3d.—that might be cash to balance an account paid partly by cheques—I think the clerks generally put "By cheque" whether it was cash or cheque.
JENN GUILTY . Judgment respited.
MR. MUIR and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. GEORGE ELLIOTT Defended Bonning.
FRANK CLARABUTT (The prisoner). I was a clerk in the service of Mr. Sidford, who keeps the accounts of Israel & Joel—from time to time I checked the Sold Ledger which was kept by Jenn. [MR. ELLIOTT objected to all evidence, as against his client, where connection was not shown with him, and submitted that neither Jenn's entries, nor any agreement between Jenn and the witness would affect Bonning. The COURT held that upon a charge of conspiracy the evidence was admissible unless it could not be traced to Bonning.]—looking at the exhibit referring to Bonning, I find a credit entry on July 16th of £20 14s. 3d., and empties, £1 4s., making £21 18s. 3d., in Jenns writing—this invoice of July 16th is such an account as in regular course is made out from the debit entries in the ledger—the effect of those entries is to wipe out Bonning's indebtedness of £21 18s. 3d.—that amount is entered as if paid by cheque—I was employed exclusively in the office of Israel & Joel—I am Well acquainted with their course of business, the keeping of their books, and so on—in the same account I find under the date of December 7th. "Cheque, £17 5s. 1d"—on January 21st there is a similar credit of £29 8s. 4d. and empties, £1 2s.—those would wipe out Bonning's indebtedness to that extent—part of my duty was to check the ledger with another clerk
Coleman, who called out the entries from the Day Book—many items were called out which were not entered in the Sold Ledger—I ticked the items in the ledger—I did not call Coleman's attention to the absence of items, but passed them as if they were there—those items are in red ink in the second and third pages of the exhibit produced—for passing those omissions I should have received from Jenn half of the half he got, the customer taking the other half. [MR. LEYCESTER stated that the fictitious credits and omissions in Bonning's account amounted to £239 4s. 3d.]—I cannot state whether that is the correct figure; I have not been through it—I received my share from Jenn in different payments from time to time.
Cross-examined. The first time I saw Bonning was at Bow Street Police Court—I never received a penny from him, nor gave him a penny—I never had the slightest communication with him with regard to these accounts.
EDWING GUY SIDFORD . I have prepared from the books of Israel & Joel, and documents in their possession, this correct exhibit, showing in black ink the true entries, and in red ink the false entries—I have also examined the Counterfoil Receipt Books with the Cash Book and the Ledger—the red ink entries are not entered in the Sold Ledger, but they are entered in the Day Book—I produce the sale tickets relating to those items—the sale tickets form the foundation of the Day Book—I find a sale ticket for each omitted item, or else a Midland Railway pass which relates to goods of Israel & Joel in the possession of the railway company, and is an order for delivery from them—the railway pass leaves Israel & Joel's possession; the sale ticket does not—I find no documents produced by the police between January 6th and May 5th, 1904, the period covering the item of £62—there is an unreceipted account for the false credit—I find receipts between July 23rd and November 5th, during which time there are no false entries—there is a payment on November 19th, which settles up to November 5th—I find receipts for the true entries, but none for the fictitious ones—the books show that Bonning benefited by this double system of falsification to the extent of £239 4s. 3d.—I produce the sale notes.
HENRY GOTHARD . I am a cashier in the service of Israel & Joel and have been since April 18th, 1904—when I received money in payment of bills I entered it in the Receipt Book—I invariably gave a receipt on a printed form—I filled in the amount in the counterfoil—I afterwards entered the amount in the Rough Cash Book from the counterfoil—the Rough Cash Book was given to Jenn, in order that he might make from it a Fair Copy Cash Book—I gave receipts for all the amounts received from Bonning and entered them in the Cash Book.
Cross-examined. John Israel was cashier of the Russell Street department from March to December, 1904—retail customers deal at either shop—John Israel was cashier previous to my going to Israel & Joel's in 1904.
the whole of 1904—my custom was to give receipts for money received by me as cashier on a printed form of the firm—I entered those payments in the Rough Cash Book every day—all payments made to me were entered in that way.
Cross-examined. I was the only cashier at that time—my brother Michael was at the other shop—I gave up my position as cashier because I did not want the situation of cashier and salesman, when I could not do either right; there was too much to do—I cannot say if I sent Bonning's receipts on; he very seldom paid me—I never had a cheque from him—he always paid with other people's cheques—I made the receipt out for cash—accounts were sent out every Saturday by Jenn or Clarabutt—I believe a boy used to write the wrappers—Jenn or Clarabutt sent out the invoices to customers with an account of the order, or "Account rendered" on the top of it.
Re-examined. I made my cash up every night—the Cash Book is always checked with the counterfoil receipts—for cheques by post I sent receipts by post—if busy, I have said to a customer, "I will send the receipt by post"—I would send it in the same form—the Cash Book would agree with the Counterfoil Receipt Book.
JOSEPH GOSLER . I was cashier for Israel & Joel between January 1st and March 25th, 1905, at 6, Russell Street, Covent Garden—I gave receipts on the authorised form of the firm only, and entered them in the Rough Cash Book which I knew would be checked with the counterfoil forms—the Receipt Book would go into the office for the purpose of being checked—I balanced my cash every night.
WALTER DEW (Detective-Inspector). I was entrusted with a warrant for the arrest of Bonning on May 4th—I went that evening about 8 o'clock to Crawford Street, Marylebone, where I found Bonning carrying on business at No. 39 as a greengrocer—I drove there in a trap with a man named Hawkins, and with Michael Israel—I left Hawkins in the trap, and Michael Israel went in while I waited outside—while waiting outside I spoke to Bonning's son, and in consequence of what he said I went to a public house—I returned to 39, Crawford Street, and searched the premises—in consequence of what Hawkins told me I looked about the neighbourhood—I did not find Bonning—in the first floor back room of the house, used as a kitchen, I found some documents and the receipts produced, including the account for £21 18s. 3d.—I showed them to Mr. Sidford—some of the papers were in a drawer, and some in a pocket—I remained till after 11 o'clock, and then left someone to keep observation—I saw nothing of Bonning while I was there.
Cross-examined. I went to serve the warrant on a Thursday—Callaghan arrested Bonning on the Saturday—he surrendered to the sergeant—I believe there was an appointment—Bonning's documents were kept in a disorderly manner—I am told he has an extensive business—I found no books—I think the business has degenerated.
ROBERT HAWKINS . I am a coachman in the service of Abraham Joel—on May 4th I drove Inspector Dew and Michael Israel to Crawford Street, Marylebone—I saw the inspector go to Bonning's shop with Israel—I
remained on the other side—after they had gone I saw a man go into a public-house, speak to Bonning who came out at the side hall which was close handy—I knew him by sight quite well.
Cross-examined. I did not tell Bonning a gentleman was waiting for him, because it was not my business—it was not important enough.
HARRY CALLAGHAN (Detective-Sergeant.) On May 6th I saw Bonning come out of the Tavistock Restaurant, Covent Garden—he asked me if I held a warrant for his arrest—I said, "Are you Bonning?"—he said, "Yes"—I read the warrant to him—he said he knew nothing about it—he was subsequently charged—he said he was innocent.
Cross-examined. I had got information that Bonning was likely to be buying in Covent Garden on the Saturday—I know now he was expecting me.
Re-examined. I followed a man from his office to the Tavistock Restaurant, and got information—I never saw Bonning till I took him into custody.
Old Court, June 2nd, 1905.
MR. ELLIOTT submitted that there was no evidence to connect Bonning with the conspiracy to go to the Jury; and that if the sale tickets were relied upon they must be proved.
The Prosecution then called the following further evidence.
EDWIN GUY SIDFORD (Re-examined). I have here the sale tickets which represent the omitted items from Bonning's account in the ledger, not having been posted from the Day Book—one is for 30 bags of potatoes on November 20th, 1903—that is a Midland pass, on which there is no number—that is the document handed to the purchaser, but that is not in my department, I am the accountant—I have exclusive charge of the books as an accountant—I am acquainted with the books of Israel & Joel—that is a necessary part of my business—on December 22nd there is one case of figs, £4 2s. 10d.—that is a Covent Garden sale—the number on the ticket is 33640—it comes from the file in the office, and from a counterfoil book—in the ordinary course of business the stock is put upon the tickets, and when the goods are taken away by the customer he sends for the ticket—this is signed "G. Bonning"—the next one is 24 celery and 12 celery, of December 24th—that is a Midland pass—as passes, they are not signed—goods are sometimes at the railway station, and no carman can get them unless he gives the pass to the railway—the next is a pass and relates to 30 sacks of potatoes, and is dated December 29th—then January 14th, 1904, 20 sacks of potatoes, and 24 celery; January 19th, 30 sacks potatoes, Midland pass; 30 bags, another pass the same date—Israel & Joel's books are made up afterwards, when the rush is over, from the tickets which go up to the office, and the business goes on the same way the next day—the railway offices close at 8 p.m.; then the next day begins, so that some tickets issued on the 19th would be dated 20th—the next is 10 bags of onions, and 10 boxes of dates—that ticket is signed; and the next of the same date, March 5th, some dates, and a bag of Brazils—then June 17th, 20 hampers of potatoes—that is a sale ticket, not signed—that ticket was sent up—I produce Gorman's way bill—
when the customer does not take the goods away the ticket goes into Israel & Joel's office, and the customer does not sign it—Gorman would enter it on his daily sheet, which I have here—I do not know his signature—on July 20th there are three lots: 20 1/2 bushels pears, 20 bags of tomatoes, and 2 bags of cucumbers—that is initialled "G. Bo'"—then August 20th, 20 half bushels of plums, signed "G. Bonning"; then August 26th, 6 flats of grapes—that ticket is signed "Bonning; also 13 half bushels of plums, and 4 flats of cucumbers on one ticket, signed "G. Bonning," and 20 half bushels of plums, and 10 half bushels of plums and 12 parsley—those tickets are signed "G. Bonning"—the ticket for 7 baskets of tomatoes of that date is not signed—that is out of the ordinary course of business—it should have been signed—sometimes several on the same day are unsigned—here is a sales ticket of August 26th, unsigned—on September 3rd there are four ticket: 10 bushels of plums; 12 half bushels; 4 ditto and 20 ditto—those are signed for by the name "D. Kirby"—I put the sale to Bonning—then September 9th, 68 bushels of apples, and 9 flats of apples—those tickets are signed "6. Bonning"—then September 29th, 10 flats of pears, signed "J. Keary"; October 7th, 10 crates of pears, signed "Bonning"; and November 28th, 30 bags of potatoes—that is a Midland pass—there are empties for the whole lot—the item as to ticket 5432 of October 7th, of 10 crates of pears (Duchess), is omitted—the others for sales on that day are properly charged and paid for—there are five sales on October 7th, including the pears—the others have been duly debited, in the Sold Ledger and paid for by Bonning.
Cross-examined. Israel & Joel are one firm among a number for whom I act—I have no part in their business apart from being their accountant—I never saw Bonning that I know of before these proceedings—I do not go beyond saying the documents purport to be signed "Bonning"—I recognise some, but not all the writings in which the sale tickets are made out—they are made out by somebody in Israel & Joel's employment.
WILLIAM JEFFERY TOP . I am a clerk and salesman employed by Israel & Joel at Covent Garden market—I know Bonning—I have seen him write on some of these sale tickets—the salesman makes out the sale ticket—the purchaser or his carman signs them when he gets the goods—in nine cases out of ten the greengrocer takes his own goods—Bonning took his goods unless he had a very big load, when he would have them sent home—then a delivery ticket is made out and sent by our carman, who would sign the sale ticket—the carman invariably has a way bill which whoever took delivery would sign—the carman is responsible—when goods are at the railway depot there are weekly credits, and credit notes are sent through.—the salesman makes out a pass or the purchaser cannot get the goods from the railway—that pass is delivered to the railway foreman at the gate—the salesman in the office enters the pass in the Pass Book and hands it to the man to pass him out of the railway station—that document shows what goods the customer is entitled to receive—the pass is made out in the name of the buyer—this pass produced, is written by our foreman at the Midland in the name of Bonning—it was made out when I was absent at lunch—Fryer is the name of the clerk—
this is a railway pass signed by Bonning (No. 3)—I made it out—I delivered it to Bonning or his carman—we would deliver the goods ourselves—No 4 pass is also in my writing—we delivered those goods to Bonning or his carman—No. 5 is made out by Fryer, and No. 6 by Mr. Israel, one of the governors—No. 7 is in Fryer's writing—No. 8 sale ticket is signed by Bonning—No. 9 sale ticket I cannot swear to, it is indistinct—No. 10 sale ticket, which is not signed, I think was made out by John Israel—No 12 ticket which is signed with the initials "R. G. B." I cannot swear to—No. 13 ticket, signed "G. Bonning," is not Bonning's writing—I should say it was signed by his carman—I nearly always see the tickets signed—No. 14 is signed by Bonning, not No. 15, which is "Received by Bonning," nor No. 16—Nos. 17 and 18, signed "J. Bonning," by the carman—No. 19 is a railway ticket in John Israel's writing, not signed—No. 20 is signed in a name that looks like Kirby, who is the carman, I presume; also No. 21, signed "G. Bonning"—the carmen nearly always sign their master's name—No. 22 is signed, "J. Kirby," possibly the carman—No. 23 is signed in Bonning's writing—No. 24 is a railway pass made out by me—the goods were delivered to Mr. Bonning or his carman—the carman's identity as representing the buyer lies with the delivery porter—generally the name is on the cart.
Cross-examined. I have been five years with Israel & Joel—Bonning has been a customer ever since I have been there.
MR. ELLIOTT again submitted that the evidence connecting Bonning with the conspiracy was not sufficient to go to the Jury. The RECORDER said that he was clearly of opinion that it was.
Bonning, in his defence on oath, said that as he did not receive an "Account rendered" he did not keep all his receipts, but that he had nothing to do with the falsification of accounts and never received a farthing from Jenn in any shape or form, nor entered into any improper agreement with him or anybody; and that he never saw Clarabutt till he was at Bow Street. He received a good character. GUILTY . Judgment respited.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, May 31st, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
(For cases tried this day, see Essex and Surrey Cases.)
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, May 31st and June 1st, 1905.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. LANE Prosecuted; MR. METHVEN Defended.
JOHN THEODORE WHITE . I live at 40, Anne Street, New North Road, City, and am a painter—I recollect meeting the prisoner on May 7th about 10.30 p.m.—I saw him waiting at the corner of the street—he said, "I want to speak to you for a moment"—I said, "All right," and walked down a street by the side of a public-house—he said, "I hear you were with two 'd's' (meaning detectives) the other day," and before I had time to answer he struck at me on the right side of my face—I closed with him, and as I did so another man came up, and punched me from behind—I broke away from the prisoner, and ran after the other man, and the prisoner tripped me up, and kicked me in the privates, and on the knee—after that I managed to get up against a ladder by the side of a building—I could not get away from there, because I was surrounded by thirty or forty people—I saw the prisoner pull out a revolver, and hold it straight at me, and fire at me"—I ran round the corner into New Street, into New Inn Yard, and got on to a 'bus with them at my heels—I am positive it was a revolver—I told the conductor to drive on—five people jumped on at the back, on the footboard—it was not the prisoner, but the one who struck me from behind, who was with the others on the footboard—I. told the conductor to stop outside Kingsley Road police station, and told the inspector there what had happened—he told me to see the Magistrate next morning.
Cross-examined. I say the prisoner fired the revolver at me pointing it straight at me—I saw it fired—I did not see any smoke at all—directly I saw the revolver and heard the report I made off—when I got on to the 'bus the prisoner was following with the others, but he did not actually get on to the bus—this took place at the crossing of Anne Street, where the road runs through—there would be no business being done at this time of night, and, with the exception of the public-houses there would be no lights, it being Sunday—there were, about thirty or forty of them, and it was all an arranged affair—they met together to assault me, because they accused me of giving information to the police—I admit I have been in trouble, and since then they seem to bear me a grudge—it was not the prisoner only who desired to do me an injury—I had not said anything to the prisoner when he came up—I had seen him about four or five times during the last week—I knew there was a policeman on point duty near by, and the reason I did not go to him was because the crowd were in front of me, and I should have to rush into the whole lot of them to get to him—I cried for help, and I know for a fact that stolen things are got rid of in the public-house—I was struck in the side of my face, on the knee, and in the privates—I was not knocked silly—I got away the best I could—I had to run sixty or seventy yards to the 'bus—I gave information to the inspector the same night.
Re-examined. The lamps were lighted in the street—I do not think they had put them out—I saw the revolver pointed at me—I did not want to
be shot at, or to notice if there was any smoke, but made off directly I heard the report.
RANDALL HODSON (Sergeant G.) On May 5th I was with Sergeant Fuller in Whitmoore Road, where I saw the prosecutor—I did not see any of this struggle—I saw the prisoner at 1, Grove Walk, Hoxton, in bed, asleep—I woke him and said, "Nichollson, I want you for shooting at Jack White in Shoreditch last Sunday"—he said, "Do you think I should shoot such a b—s—pot as him"—I read the warrant to him—I then took him in custody to the King's Road police station, where he was charged.
Cross-examined. He made no statement denying the charge.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he saw the prosecutor in High Street, Shoreditch, on May 7th, but neither spoke to nor interfered with him; that there was no grievance between them; that he had never had a revolver in his possession in his life; that it was a got up affair; that the only explanation that occurred to him was that the prosecutor had been living apart from his wife for three or four weeks, and that he (the prisoner) had been in Shoreditch with her and had a drink with her, and perhaps somebody had informed the prosecutor.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LANE Prosecuted; MR. METHVEN Defended.
John Theodore White and Randall Hodson repeated their evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LIVETT Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN ARTHUR WOOLF . I am a solicitor, practising at 25, Abchurch Lane—on April 5th I received a letter from the prisoner, stating that I was required to draw a deed of partnership—I had no knowledge of the prisoner at that time—the prisoner and Mr. Lester called upon me on April 5th, and I was told by the prisoner that she required me to draw a deed of partnership between herself and Mr. Gordon Lester, she acquiring one third interest in his business, and she was to pay him £750—she informed me that she had not the money at that time, but that she had an interest under the will of her late uncle, William John Barker, and she asked me to search at Somerset House, and, if I was satisfied, to raise her £750 to enable her to acquire this interest—she stated that her father was the life tenant under the will, and the reversion was expectant on his death—I caused a search to be made and I found that there was a will of John Barker, and that his brother Richard Smith Barker was entitled to the life interest with remainder to his children, of which the prisoner was one—I did not make the search personally, but through one of my clerks between
April 5th and 10th—I prepared a draft deed and the prisoner and Mr. Lester went through it with me—it was sent to Mr. Lester's solicitor for his approval, and subsequently returned to me—the prisoner came to me on April 10th and stated that she required me to advance her £10—I told her that it was a very extraordinary request, as I had very little knowledge of her and had been unable, during the few days I had had the matter in hand, to satisfy myself, because I had not the name of the trustees' solicitor, which she informed me she did not know—she said her father was too ill to be communicated with and added, "You have my affairs in hand, and you know my affairs are all right. I have been unable to work for some weeks and should be indebted to you if you would advance me the sum of £10"—on that I drew this cheque and handed it to her—she had previously handed me a retainer to act for her—on the 15th, although I had been seeing her every day, she coming into my office and telling me she could not obtain the information, she obtained a further £5 from me on the same allegations and story as before—about the 19th or 20th, from information I had received from another solicitor, I communicated with Mr. Freeman, who, I was told, acted for the trustees and ascertained from him that the prisoner had disposed of her reversion under this will some years since, and that she had no interest under the will—this information would not be found at Somerset House—I then applied for a summons, and, as the prisoner did not surrender, a warrant was obtained for her apprehension.—On April 19th I received a letter from the prisoner, asking for a further £10, and a similar letter on the 30th—I did not give her any more money.
ROBERT JOHN COOK . I am a solicitor practising at 23, Abingdon Street, Westminster—my firm acted for the trustees under the will of William John Barker, and have been so acting for many years—I sent this document dated February 20th, 1899, to Mr. Woolf, which purports to be an assignment by the prisoner of her interest under the will of William John Barker—on receiving a letter from the prosecutor, I telephoned to him, and he sent round a clerk—I told the clerk that the interest had been sold, and gave him a copy of the notice of assignment reciting these facts, which are true to my knowledge—the prisoner is the person referred to therein—the prisoner knew I was solicitor for the trustees having acted for the assignee in the matter of the assignment—I think there could be no possibility of the prisoner not knowing that this money was assigned.
CHARLES ATKINS (Detective City). On April 28th I saw the prisoner outside Hampton Court railway station—she went into the booking office—when she came out I followed her some little distance away—I stopped her, and told her I was a police officer, and should take her into custody on a warrant granted at Mansion House Police Court for obtaining money on false pretences, and not answering the summons—she said, "Yes, that is all right"—I then cautioned her, and she replied, "The reason I did not attend to the summons was that I had not £3 to pay my soliciton, and I did not know what it meant, as I have done nothing intentionally
wrong"—I took her to the detective office in Old Jewry, where Inspector Willis read the warrant to her—she then made the same reply.
GORDEN LESTER . I am the proprietor of the "Carriage Companion"—I first met the prisoner on January 12th, 1905, our acquaintance being brought about by my advertisement for a canvasser, to which she replied—I engaged her from that time until about the end of March, when she asked me to take her into partnership—I asked her if she had any money—she said that her father was ill, but she was endeavouring to get a mortgage—on a reversion, and would I have the deed of partnership drawn up?—I said, "Yes"—the deed of partnership was drawn up by Mr. Woolf, a solicitor to whom I was recommended by a Mr. Hodges, carrying on a financial business in Long Acre—I have not called him here to-day, as he could not be found—the prisoner did canvassing for me, and I subsequently discovered that contracts she had made were obtained by misrepresentation by which I am a loser to the extent of £2,000—the contracts were for advertisements in my book called the "Carriage Companion."
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she went to Mr. Hodges, who is a financier in Long Acre, that he (Mr. Hodges) called upon a solicitor who had charge of the estate; that she had only sold her interest in an annuity of £1 per week; that she believed there was more money to come; that she had no wish to do Mr. Woolf out of money; that she could get work, and would guarantee to return the money obtained from him within three months; that she signed no paper to return the money so obtained, and took no oath to do so; that she did not suggest that her solicitor had withheld money due to her on the reversion, and did not remember having had £1,300; that her father was too ill to attend the Court; that she had received as her share of the reversion £600 which she had applied in the purchase of a laundry, the management of which she did not understand, and had lost every penny.
GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on December 16th, 1901. Two years' hard labour.
MR. HURRELL Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES Defended Jacobs.
MICHAEL BURKE . I am a costermonger—on May 12th, at 11.30 I was walking along Flower and Dean Street—I was seized by the throat and drawn down a court—the man who seized me was behind me—I did not see him—I was hit on the jaw and knocked to the ground—the man who hit me was the image of this man (Jacobs) in side face and build—one got away—Woolf was caught and at the police station said, "There is the money," and threw it on the desk—there was £4—he did not give me the whole—there was £13 4s.—I saw Jacobs on Monday morning—I believe he is the man—I only saw his side face.
Cross-examined by MR. HUGHES. I had £13 14s. in my pocket—I had been to market and went from there to Spitalfields first thing in the
morning—I had been in one or two public-houses—the last one I went into was in Commercial Street—I saw no one who was following me—one man collared me by the throat from behind and hustled me into a court, the other man took the money out of my pocket—I saw his face while he was running away—he was some distance from me—it was dark—there are a great many Jews in Flower and Dean Street—the only identification I had of this man (Jacobs) was the slight glance I had whilst he was running away—I am not sure if he is the man.
Re-examined. I picked him out from thirteen others.
Cross-examined by Woolf. I did not come out of the public-house with a young woman—I was by myself—I had had a few glasses—I was not hauled up by a young woman.
By the COURT. Jacobs did assault me—he did not use any violence.
EDGAR BETTS (210 H.) I was in Brick Lane at 11.30 p.m. on May 12th—I heard a scream and saw Woolf running towards me—I caught him—the prosecutor said, "That man has done me for £13 4s."—I took Woolf to the station—he said, "I give you your money back if you let me go"—lie handed over £4 4s. 9 1/2 d.
Cross-examined by MR. HUGHES. It is a very busy neighbourhood and there are a good many people about.
JOHN STEVENS (321 H.) At 8.15 on May 14th I saw Jacobs in Middlesex Street—I said, "I want you, Jacobs; I shall take you to the station. You answer the description of a man wanted for being concerned with Woolf last Friday in assaulting and robbing a man"—he said, "I can prove where I was at the time."
Cross-examined. He said that at once.
JACOBS NOT GUILTY . WOOLF, against whom several other convictions were proved— Six months' hard labour.
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted; MR. PERCIVAL HUGHES Defended McKaig, and MR. BURNIE Defended Brent.
HAROLD RALPH MIDDLEMOST . I am an engineer, of Chalton, Huddersfield—I went to the King's Head, Leicester Square, about 9.45 p.m. on March 15th—I left my portmanteau at the bottom of the stairs and went upstairs—when I looked for my portmanteau an hour later it was gone—there was a cheque book in it with twenty-eight unused cheques—some of these (Produced) cheques are out of that book—it is the Huddersfield branch of the London City and Midland Bank—I lost £20 worth of things—these are my clothes (Produced)—I know nothing about the prisoners.
ALLEN HYDE GARDNER . I live at 32, Bury Street—I know Brent—I saw him in March, I am not certain when—I met him in the King's Head, in Leicester Square—I had known him six months—he asked me to do him a favour by getting a cheque cashed for him—I said I could not, but
I took it to a friend and he cashed it—I took it to Mr. Appelby, a wine and spirit merchant—he was away, but his cashier knew me—this cheque is signed "Lord Gardner"—I am known as "Lord Gardner"—at the time I did not know Brent as Brent; I knew him as Harper—I always heard him called Jack—that cheque was written by him and signed by him—I had no occasion to ask him about his banking account—I do not know where the cheque came from, except that it came out of Brent's pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. usually called him Jack—I knew nothing about him—I am called "Lord Gardner"—I have never been to the House of Lords about it; I have not the finance—I am doing nothing at the present moment—I have an income—not from my estates; I have no estates—I had an action brought against me—I was committed for trial—they offered no evidence on the second trial—I was stopping at hotels and running up bills which were paid—one bill of £40 is not paid now—I did not ask Brent where he got that cheque book from—I said I could get the cheque changed for him—it was not my suggestion—I did not keep £1—I gave him the £2—I had something a little over half a sovereign of my own at the time as far as I can remember—he did not give me anything at all—we stood drinks and drinks about—I heard that the cheque was returned marked "No account" about five days afterwards, from Mr. Appelby himself—I had no conversation with Brent about it whatever.
By the COURT. It is payable to Lord Gardner, and I have endorsed it—I did not go a long way out of my road to cash the cheque—I was going to Hampstead to see a friend—I went to this place because it was only 200 yards further—Brent came with me—I did not have a conversation with him about this, because I did not speak to him—had I known as much as I do now, I should not have had the slightest hesitation in calling a policeman—one does not always know how to act on the spur of the moment.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I knew Lord Gardner as a customer.
By the COURT. Mr. Appleby would have cashed the cheque.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. Brent came in on March 18th at 11 o'clock—I was very busy—he came in on the following Monday and asked me if I still had the cheque and he would give me back the money—I said it was too late.
By the COURT. I knew him—I have cashed several cheques for him before.
CHARLES SEPTIMUS SPEED ANDREWS . I am a licensed victualler—on April 12th Stone came to my place and asked me to change a cheque for £5 13s: signed "Harry Phelps" and endorsed "A. Stone"—Phelps' address was
given to me as at Coventry—the cheque was returned marked "No account"—I met Stone in Water Street, and gave him into custody—I handed him over in the King's Head—I believe I had seen McKaig once before—whilst Stone was talking to the detective Thomas came up and spoke to him—Thomas came and told me on Sunday that the cheque would not be met—he did not say it had been stolen—he must have known Stone and McKaig.
Cross-examined by Stone. I have known you about two months—you were generally with people in your own trade—I have seen you with McKaig twice—I have lent you money—you went to a police concert with me the next night—I asked you for an address; I saw you write it—you told me you were starting in a new situation, but you did not start—you told me you would repay me the money—I changed the cheque on Wednesday—I was in your company Thursday, Saturday and Sunday—I did not see you with regard to the cheque; it had not been returned—Thomas told me he had overheard the conversation.
Cross-examined by Thomas You were not with Stone when the cheque was brought—you met me in a motor car, I think, on April 15th, and we went for a run—you told me oh Sunday that you had overheard that the cheque would not be cashed.
Cross-examined by MR. HUGHES. Stone and McKaig came in together—I knew Stone, but not McKaig—Stone spoke to me about this matter—McKaig was standing in the background—I cannot remember him saying at the time that if there was anything wrong with the cheque he would repay the money—I cashed the cheque on Wednesday and paid it in on Saturday—I saw him between then and that, but I had no idea the cheque was wrong—possibly he came in once or twice before the Saturday—it was not McKaig who said he would pay for the cheque if there was anything wrong.
CHARLES ROBERT CUTLER . I am a licensed victualler—on April 15th Stone presented a cheque for £1 18s. and asked me if I would give him £1 for it—he was a friend of Andrews, and I said he could have 10s.—I have not been repaid.
Cross-examined by Stone. You told me you had just left Andrews—I knew you as a friend of his.
Cross-examined by Thomas. You said you would pay the 10s. back—you came to my house with Andrews.
FELIX SIEGERIST . I live at the International Artists' Club, 41, Lisle Street—I knew McKaig as being a trick cyclist at the Empire Theatre, Leicester Square—on April 18th two of them came to my place—they were hungry—McKaig asked me to change a cheque and I would not—he said, "I will have a sandwich"—I said, "You can have that without the cheque."
Cross-examined by Mr. Hughes. I could find him if I wanted to—he left the cheque on a table—they did not ask me for any money for the cheque.
FREDERICK WEST (Police Sergeant C.) On April 20th I saw Stone and told him I was a police officer and that I believed he had cashed a cheque with Andrews—he said, "Yes, I did; a trick cyclist gave me the cheque"—Thomas was standing with him and said, "It serves you right for mixing
up with that class"—I said, "I arrest you for being concerned in stealing a bag from this public house containing property of £20 and a cheque book with thirty cheques in it"—he made no reply—at the police station he said the cheques were handed to him by a trick cyclist, Jack McKaig, who asked him to get a cheque cashed, and if he did he would get 10s. out of it; that he saw McKaig fill in one and sign his name as "Phelps"—he said the landlord must have known he had no money, so he told him it was a cheque in payment for work done—I searched him and found a slip of paper, a knife and some memorandum containing the name "Harry Phelps," care of Shakespeare Hotel, Horsage Street—he gave another address—it is not the address he gave Andrews—Thomas was present when I spoke to Stone—I apprehended him later on—at midnight I went back to the public house and saw Thomas speaking to McKaig—I asked Thomas if he knew where McKaig lived—he said, "Strike me dead, I don't"—I told him I should arrest him for being concerned with Stone in stealing a bag and forging and uttering cheques—I handed him over to a constable and sent him to Vine Street—later I saw McKaig with a bicycle—I asked him if his name was McKaig; he said, "Yes"—I arrested him—at the police station I showed him the cheques and he said, "It is quite right. I admit I wrote them; I must have been a fool to do it. I did not sign the others. What Stone says is correct; he saw me sign one cheque"—Thomas said, "This is what I get for mixing up with your class"—on the next day he stated that McKaig showed him the cheques, and had said he had no banking account, and that Stone gave him (McKaig) the cheques—I saw Brent on April 24th and searched him; he had nothing in his pockets—I asked him to write his name and address in my pocket book—the name corresponds to the signatures—I arrested him—he said, "Mr. West, you have made a great mistake. I do not know anything about it"—on being charged at Vine Street he said, "I admit I wrote the cheque I gave to Martin, and also the one I gave to Gardner. He knew I had no banking account, because I told him so."
Cross-examined by Stone. You said you had given the wrong particulars at the police station—I did not tell you I was going to bring it as evidence against you.
Cross-examined by Thomas. I have not got any cheque endorsed by you—your statements are correct as far as I know.
Cross-examined by MR. HUGHES. The cheque I found on McKaig was signed Daisy Grevel—I did not know that she was one of the bicycle troup—McKaig comes of respectable parents—except for this charge he is of undoubtedly good character.
Stone, in his defence on oath, said that he did not know the other prisoners for more than a week before his arrest; that he met them with a friend of his named Blackburn, who introduced him to Thomas; that they went to a public-house, where they met McKaig; that the next day he met McKaig, who gave him the two cheques in question to cash; that he took one to Mr. Andrews, who gave him £2 and the other he took to Mr. Cutler, who gave him 10s. on it; that he thought McKaig had a banking account, as he was well dressed, and had a
gold chain and gold rings; and that he knew nothing about the stolen clothes. He was given a good character.
Thomas, in his defence, stated that he met McKaig, who went with him to his (Thomas') lodgings; that on the way McKaig showed him a cheque-book and that he had nothing to do with the cheques.
STONE and THOMAS NOT GUILTY . MCKAIG and BRENT GUILTY . JOHN McKAIG then withdrew his plea and PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering orders for £5 and £1 18s. He was given a good character. Discharged on his own recognisances in £10. BRENT, against whom a previous conviction at Bow Street was proved, and who was given a bad character— Judgment respited.
482. WILLIAM THOMAS was again indicted for forging and uttering orders for the payment of £5 13s. and £1 18s; also for obtaining £2 5s. from Charles Septimus Speed Andrews and 10s. from Charles Robert Cutler.
MR. RAVEN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.
HARRY RALPH MIDDLEMOST . I am the prosecutor in this case—I lost a portmanteau with a cheque-book inside it—this cheque is one that came from the book—I do not know how it became detached from the book.
CHARLES SEPTIMUS SPEED ANDREWS . I live at 51, Dean Street—on April 12th this cheque was brought to me by the prisoner—McKaig was with him—he asked me to change the cheque—it was drawn for £5 13s.—I knew him as a customer and I treated him as a friend—he said it was in part payment for work done for Phelps, who was the drawer of it—he wrote this slip of paper in my presence—it says: "Harry Phelps, 15, The Burgess, Coventry"—he gave me it when I asked who the drawer was—I gave him £2 5s. on it—I presented it the following Saturday—it was a country cheque, so it did not come back till the following Thursday—I met the prisoner in Wardour Street and gave him into custody—before that another man had come to me and offered to repay my money—I have never had it, and am £2 5s. out of pocket.
The prisoner. "I have only the same to ask the witness as before."
FREDERICK WEST (Sergeant C.) On April 20th, I saw the prisoner in Bear Street, and told him I was a police officer, and that I believed he had cashed a cheque with Mr. Andrews—he said, "I did; a trick cyclist gave me the cheque"—he afterwards made this statement: "The cheques were handed to me by a trick cyclist Jack McKaig, he asked me to get them cashed. I saw him fill in one of the cheques in a public-house in the Edgware Road. The other I did not see filled in. He has also cashed one at the German Club at Lisle Street. I saw him sign his name as Phelps. The landlord, Mr. Andrews, must have known I had not got £7, so I had to tell him the cheque was given to me in part payment of a
bill for work I had done for Phelps. I knew when I gave the landlord Phelps' address at Coventry he did not live there"—I wrote that statement at his dictation—after I had read this statement to McKaig, the prisoner said, "Yes, he was the man that gave me the cheques"—when I searched him, that card was amongst other documents he had in his possession—this gives an address at Oldham.
Prisoner's defence: "The cheque was given to me, and I thought it was a proper cheque. I passed it in my own name, thinking everything was satisfactory connected with it. I did not have 10s. given to me as part proceeds; it was 10s. lent to me. I did not ask for the loan of 10s. I was in Mr. Andrews' house every day. I did not ask Mr. Andrews to keep the cheque back."
NOT GUILTY .
484. ARTHUR STONE was again indicted for forging and uttering, knowing it to be forged, an order for the payment of £1 18s. with intent to defraud. On another indictment Obtaining by means of false pretences, from Charles Septimus Speed Andrews, £2 5s., and from Charles Robert Cutler, 10s. with intent to defraud.
MR. RAVEN for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, June 1st, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
486. EVAN COUSINS (38) to committing an unnatural offence upon John McFee and William Joseph Fielder; also to attempting to commit an unnatural offence upon Reginald John Howard Belcher; having been convicted of felony at the West London Police Court on December 10th, 1901. It was stated that the prisoner had been convicted fifty-two times in the Army. Ten years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
487. WILLIAM KEARNEY (34) to carnally knowing Nelly Kime, a girl under the age of thirteen years, and indecently assaulting her. He received a good character. Nine months hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HAYMAN CUMMINGS . I am a doctor of music, and principal of the Guildhall School of Music—I received this postcard (Produced) through the post it is dated May 18th—(Read): "Dr. Cummings, you are an old rogue, villain, and liar. You old coward, why don't you fight?
Yours truly, Melita Macready"—I know the prisoner's writing perfectly well; I have seen her write—this postcard is in her writing.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Any student could get a certificate if she went up and deserved it—you have not had one because you are not qualified for it.
By the COURT. I have never called the prisoner immoral—I know nothing about one of the professors refusing to teach the prisoner until I said why she had left the Guildhall—she could have applied for a certificate to go in for the examination quite independent of me through her professor—she has had nine professors altogether, and I am sorry to say that they have said they could not teach her; it is not her fault, I know—I have never heard any suggestion against her morality.
HENRY PHILLIPS (Detective-Inspector City). On May 18th, I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—at 5 p.m. the same day I saw her at her residence, and told her what I had come for—she said, "I have been expecting you. I have purposely done this so that my case shall have proper notice. I am being very badly treated; it is impossible to get a certificate unless you bribe the professor"—she was taken to the station and charged—she took with her a quantity of documents, including this copy book (Produced), which contains a copy of a letter to the Lord Mayor dated May 6th. (Read): "To the Lord Mayor of London. My Lord,—May I be allowed to bring my case before your Lordship' notice. I have been a student at the Guildhall School of Music more than eight years, all consecutive terms, taking for my studies elocution, solo singing, sight singing, and piano. I have sung in the Guildhall School Opera Chorus twelve months, and three years in the Guildhall School Choir at the Guildhall. For some unknown reason to me at the time Dr. Cummings had me expelled. He knows my mother is a widow, and I was studying that I might earn my living by my studies. Since I was expelled I applied to a professor of the Guildhall to teach me privately. He has refused until Dr. Cummings will say what I was expelled for. I have heard since that Dr. Cummings has said I am an immoral woman. By the sacred Cross of our Saviour I will say I am the same moral and virtuous woman Nature bore me. Therefore I make this appeal to your Lordship, as Chief Magistrate of the City of London, to protect the honour of a woman of the country of which your Lordship has the honour to be Chief Magistrate of, and one of England's women. I can prove, if your Lordship will allow me, that I have been insulted, betrayed; my injured honour cries aloud to your Lordship for protection to help me to hold up the honour of my virtue and my womanhood. I have a letter in my possession from Dr. Cummings written in his own writing, dated January 15th, 1904, where he writes to me, "I shall be happy to see you. Signed, William Cummings.' What has made him change, and why is he not to speak all he has against me in this short time? I have consulted two solicitors upon my case, and they cannot help me, unless I pay £50 down. Will your Lordship make him speak, and prove the immorality he accuses me of? He is a rogue, villain, and a liar. He is a rogue to hold a secret of immorality against an honest woman's honour when he is principal where
75 per cent are women. A villain to be an accomplice to such a rash, mad act to accuse a virtuous woman, and a liar to tell lies to hide his shame. With all due honour to your Lordship's post, heed my pleadings lest in my hour of distress of mind I may be tempted to take that which is not mine to give—my life. I have sought the advice of many who tell me it is a case that must be fought out, because there is malice, deceit, and treachery. My only hope now is your Lordship's help; make him speak all he knows against me. Awaiting your Lordship's reply, I have the honour to be, Your Lordship's most humble and obedient servant, Melita Macready."
Cross-examined. I do not remember having any whisky at your house.
GUILTY . Discharged on her own recognisances.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, June 1st, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SIDNEY WILLIAMS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM CAMPBELL . At 12.45 a.m. on May 6th I was in Islington Lane when the prisoners rushed at me—Smith pinned my arms up against the wall while Connolly went down my right-hand waistcoat pocket—I did not lose anything, as I had nothing on me to lose—I struggled and got free—the police officers ran up and took them into custody or I should have been very badly hurt.
By the COURT. There was only a knife in my waistcoat pocket, and they did not take that.
CHARLES LEACH (Sergeant G.) At 12.45 a.m. on May 6th I was in High Street, Islington, with Hearn, when we saw the prisoners loitering—we kept them under observation for some time and followed them to the Grand Theatre in the High Street—they hid there in a big doorway for a few minutes—the prosecutor came along in the opposite direction and Smith rushed at him, seized him by the wrists whilst Connolly placed his hands in his waistcoat pocket—the prosecutor struggled and got away—they rushed at him again and we ran towards them—we were in plain clothes—I caught hold of Smith, who broke away from me, and after some difficulty I took him to the station—he did not say anything—Hearn took Connolly—after they were charged and were being placed in the cells Smith said to me, "I should hardly think that Connolly could have hurt him. Put me under the Act to-morrow and I will take twelve months for my chance"—he evidently referred to the Prevention of Crimes Act—Connolly said to Smith, in my hearing, as he was being put into the cell, "If you get me out of this to-morrow I will get you £2 off Jerry Chandler."
By the COURT. I did not make a charge against Smith or Connolly under the Prevention of Crimes Act; it would be impossible to do so.
Cross-examined by Connolly. I did not ask the Magistrate to deal with you under the Prevention of Crimes Act.
THOMAS HEARN (Detective G.) About 12.45 p.m. on May 6th I was with Detective Leach in High Street, Islington, when we saw the prisoners loitering about—we kept them under observation—we saw the prosecutor coming along, when they ran up to him—Smith caught hold of his wrists and Connolly felt in his waistcoat pockets—the prosecutor struggled and we ran up and arrested the prisoners—I took Connolly into custody and conveyed him to the station, where he was charged, to which he made no reply—as we were putting them back into the cells Smith said to Leach, "Put me under the Act to-morrow and I will take twelve months for my chance—Connolly said to Smith, "Get me out of this and I will get you two quid from Jerry Chandler"—they were both sober.
Connolly. "I have no recollection of saying that. I do not know what I did say."
GUILTY . Smith then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on December 10th, 1900, and Connolly to a conviction of felony at this Court on April 22nd, 1901. SMITH, against whom eleven previous convictions were proved— Five years' penal servitude. CONNOLLY, against whom a number of previous convictions were proved— Four years' penal servitude.
490. PHILIP TREVOR (25) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences from William Collins a pair of gloves, and from Hook, Knowles & Company, Ltd., a pair of boots, with intent to defraud; also to stealing a ring, the property of Florence Skipper, having been convicted of misdemeanour on August 12th, 1902, at Clerkenwell Sessions.
Five previous convictions were proved against him, commencing in 1896, and he had two and a half months still to serve. Application was made by counsel for defence that opportunity should be given for the prisoner's state of mind to be medically examined into. Dr. Scott was then called, who said that although not having made a minute examination, from conversations with and observation of the prisoner, he was of the opinion that there was absolutely no insanity about him. The COURT refused to postpone sentence. Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, June 2nd, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
491. GEORGE WALLACE and GEORGE COOKSON PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring with other persons unknown, that Wallace being a servant of the Holborn Borough Council should corruptly receive, and Cookson should corruptly give, certain gifts and loans, to wit, £50, £50 and £30, contrary to the provisions of the Public Bodies Corrupt Practices Act, 1889. WALLACE also to aiding and abetting Cookson, and COOKSON to aiding and abetting Wallace. It was stated by the Prosecution that the Holborn Borough Council had not, in fact, been defrauded in the sense of losing money; nor had they had their work improperly carried out.
The COMMON SERJEANT, in passing sentence, said: "The sentence of the Court is this, that you do, each of you, pay a fine of £200 and be imprisoned till that fine be paid; that in addition to that penalty you, Wallace, be ordered to pay to the Borough Council of Holborn, into the hands of their clerk, the sum of £130, being the amount received by you as mentioned in the indictment, within twenty-one days from this time. The Court also orders that under another section of the Act, that each of you be judged incapable of being elected or appointed to any public office for seven years from the date of this conviction. I suppose you, Wallace, have been dismissed from your office; I am not going to judge of that, but merely to order as part of the sentence upon you, that you forfeit the office held by you at the time of your conviction. There is a power in some cases for the Court to order that an official committing this offence is liable to forfeit his right to any pension, but that is not a matter with which the Court can deal in this case, and I, therefore, make no order as to that."
Before Mr. Justice Grantham,
Old Court, May 31st, 1905.
492. CHARLES NORTON PICKARD (26) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously wounding Louise Emma Pickard and Edith King, with intent to do them grievous bodily harm. He received a good character. Three years' penal servitude.
MR. BODKIN and MR. UY STEPHENSON Prosecuted; MR. GRANTHAM Defended.
MAY FLORENCE WALKER . I am the wife of Robert Stevens Walker, of "Wrentham," Church Road, Leyton—it is a detached house standing in a garden—the kitchen is on the ground level towards the back of the house, and at the back and joined on to the house there is an outside lavatory—a few yards from the house there is an outbuilding used for washing; there is a copper in it with a fireplace underneath—there is a side door which leads from the kitchen to the garden—the prisoner entered my service as cook on March 16th—she came to me with a five months' reference—I have a parlour maid named Edith Bray—I did not notice anything about the prisoner's appearance until April 23rd—I had no suspicion that she was pregnant—she continued performing her duties till Easter Day—she was a satisfactory servant—on the morning of Easter Day I went to church at 7 a.m., and returned to breakfast—between breakfast and the time that I went to church again, the prisoner asked me if dinner would be the same time as usual, and I said, "Yes, please"—the usual time was 1.30—I went to church again, leaving in the house Edith
Bray and the prisoner—my children went to church with me—I got back from church at 12.35—I sat down for a moment or two in the dining room, waiting for my husband—I saw the prisoner go upstairs to her room, but she did not speak to me—my husband returned in a few minutes, and we went out for a walk and returned at 1.10—I went upstairs to take my hat off, and Edith Bray came and spoke to me—I went down to the kitchen and saw the prisoner dishing up the dinner—she looked very pale and Appeared to have bean crying—she said, "If the dinner is not as it should be, will you excuse it?"—I said, "Yes, certainly, what is the matter; are you unwell?" meaning her courses—she had to cook some lamb, spinach and potatoes for dinner; the sweets were prepared the day before—I told the prisoner I would attend to the dinner—she sat down in the kitchen, passed her hand over her face and said, "Oh! dear," as if she felt faint—I and Edith Bray then attended to the dinner and took it into the dining room—in about twenty minutes I went out to the kitchen, and, not seeing the prisoner, I opened the side door, which opens on to the garden, and saw the prisoner coming towards me from the direction of the laundry—her face was very white and I asked her if she felt any better—she said yes, and that her nose had been bleeding—I saw no blood on her face or clothes; she had her usual maid's cap on—I asked her to sit down for a few moments and then go to her room and lie down—she sat down for about three minutes, and I assisted her up to her room and she remained on her bed until the doctor arrived—my husband fetched Dr. Dawson—I showed him up to her room and said to the prisoner, "Clara, the doctor has come to see you"—she was lying on the bed—I went out of the room at the doctor's request—after a little while the doctor called me in and the prisoner asked me to forgive her—I think she said, "Oh! forgive me for bringing all this trouble upon you"—I had not then heard from the doctor what was the matter—I thought it might have been a miscarriage—I remained with her until she was taken to the infirmary—I was shown a pair of scissors at the Police Court; they were not mine.
Cross-examined. She did her work well while she was with me—if the child was a nine months' child I should expect to see some signs if the prisoner was pregnant, but I had seen none—it would have been quite easy for her to have gone to the infirmary—I would have done anything to help her—when Dr. Dawson arrived, the prisoner was very agitated and upset—she threatened to hurt herself, and, I believe, to commit suicide.
Re-examined. I saw no clothes having been provided—I did not hear the prisoner threaten to commit suicide; she said it to the doctor.
ROBERT STEVENS WALKER . I live at "Wrentham," Church Road, Leyton—on April 23rd I went to church with my wife in the morning, and came back about 12.50—I went out again and returned—we sat down to dinner about 1.30—whilst in the dining room I Remember hearing the side door shut—my wife went to the kitchen and came back and made a statement to me—shortly afterwards I went into the garden by the front door—I went to the water-closet close to the laundry—I noticed some blood on the floor, and on the sill of the door inside—I went to the laundry and noticed one or two spots of blood on the floor—I looked into the
copper, which was completely covered by the lid—I removed it and saw a coarse apron blood-stained—I took hold of one corner of it, but I did not see what was inside it—I let it go back to the place I found it—I returned to the house and spoke to my wife and went again to the copper—I removed the lid and saw the dead body of the baby in the copper—the body was warm, with blood on the face—it was naked—I covered it up just as I had found it, replaced the lid and went for Dr. Dawson—after he had attended to the prisoner I showed him the copper and the body of the child.
ERNEST RUMBY DAWSON . I am a registered medical practitioner at 4, Grange Park Road. Leyton—about 2.30 on April 23rd I was called to "Wrentham"—I went to the prisoner's bed room on the first floor and saw her lying on the bed with her clothes on—I said, "What is the matter; what is your trouble?"—at first she said, "There is nothing the matter"—I had not seen the body, but I had heard that it had been found—I said to the prisoner, "Oh! come, tell me what is the matter with you?"—she said, "I have had a child and I have killed it"—I said, "Oh! don't say that"—she said, "But I have"—I then examined her with her permission, and found that the end of the cord was visible—it had been cut and tied—I said, "Who cut this cord; who tied it?"—she said, "I did"—I said, "You have had a child before then?"—at first she denied it and then admitted it, and said, "It is with my mother"—she had been delivered within an hour of my seeing her—she asked me if I had seen its body—I said, "No, not yet; I must get you well first. I must see to you first"—referring to her mother she said, "It will kill her if she knows I have had this child"—I do not remember making any actual remark then, but I soothed her all the time, I said "I must get you well, don't worry"—she said, "Oh! don't bother about me; I do not want to get well. I would rather die. It is no good getting me well"—I did not look for anything in the room, the prisoner told me where to find the scissors—I looked for them—they were lying on a cardboard box where she told me they were—they were partly covered by her bodice—they looked as if they had been recently washed, but there were a few spots of blood or them—as soon as I had put her comfortable I went down to see the child's body; that was after having found the scissors—when I found them the prisoner said, "I stuck them into the child's neck"—I then went and examined the lavatory and the child's body—it was the dead body of a male child, still warm—I noticed that the face was covered with blood and that there was blood in the mouth—a portion of the cord was attached to the child—it had been cut, but was not tied, and there had been no apparent haemorrhage from it—there was a wound in the child's throat on the left-hand side of the middle line—it could have been caused by the scissors or by a knife—I noticed the child's head—there was no bruising at all, but the bone on the right-hand side was badly broken—in my opinion it was not quite a full-time child, it was practically, and was well developed—I went back to the prisoner's room and stayed with her on and off for five hours—she said she gave birth to a child in the water closet; that it was
born into the pan; that she had lifted it from the pan, cut the cord and tied it and then stuck the scissors into its neck—she said she had washed up the water closet, wrapped the child in a coarse apron, carried it to the laundry and put it into the copper—after five hours she was removed to the infirmary.
Cross-examined. I should think the bone in the head would be very easily fractured—I stayed with the prisoner for five hours, as I was distinctly afraid of suicidal tendencies, because she threatened to commit suicide—she was in great anguish—her mental distress was very pitiful and painful to see, and she kept repeating, "I do not know how I could have done it, or what made me do it," and she was filled with horror and grief—I think it is quite likely that a woman in this class of life, going about her duties and having this unexpected delivery, might have her mental equilibrium upset and that for a brief period she might not have realised what she was doing—when I examined her she was wearing a woman's ordinary clothes—her mental condition for half an hour after I saw her was extremely pitiful to see—it was then that I thought it prudent to move the scissors and a piece of broken glass, because she had no wish to live and would undoubtedly have used one or the other—for a short time she was demented and quite off her head.
Re-examined. I do not think it would be necessary for me to see the post-mortem examination, to be better able to judge of the amount of violence used—I found it was a very bad fracture—I cannot tell the length—the post-mortem would be a surer way of telling that—she was not very much depressed at her mother possibly hearing of this—she said, "It will kill my mother if she knows I have another child," but she was not depressed at that; she was depressed at what she had done—she knew quite well what she had done, and had taken steps to conceal it—I was not present at the time the child met its death, but I say that at the time the prisoner killed the child she was undoubtedly not responsible for her actions, and did not know what she was doing—that is my opinion—I say that the prisoner's mental equilibrium was temporarily upset when I saw her—her being off her head lasted for about half an hour, and she then came round to her own mind—it was during that time that I put some questions to her as to what was the matter with her, and she gave the answers during that time—she was quite sane when I asked her the questions—I have no doubt that she was giving her answers from her recollections of what had happened.
LEWIS JEKELL . I am a medical man, practising at Leytonstone, where I am also police surgeon—on April 23rd I saw these scissors (Produced) at the police station—they have bloodstains upon them on both blades and on the handle and fork—the same day I went to "Wrentham" and saw the body of the child, which, in my opinion, was fully developed—I examined its neck and found a wound nearly an inch long and threequarters of an inch deep, with a jagged end—it had severed the jugular vein and other important blood vessels—the injury would be caused by nipping with the scissors, opening and closing them; stabbing with
the points apart and then closing them—that was the immediate cause of death—any injury to the jugular vein would cause death very rapidly—it would be a question of minutes—I went into the closet and found marked evidence of blood having spurted from living arteries on to the wall and on to a book which was on the floor—it was all over the walls, quite two feet high—I am sure it was blood which had spurted from a living artery; that is a characteristic condition—there were marks as if an attempt had been made to remove the blood marks by washing and wiping—next day I made a post-mortem examination of the body and found bruises and contusions in front of the head, on the eyebrow and on the right side and back of the head—they could not have been caused at one time—there was an extensive fracture on the right side only—it was a multiple fracture, a piece of bone being completely broken out of the side of the head and was lying loose—there was one slight bruise on the forehead—on the side of the head and back there was no external mark—there were very marked bruises on the tissues—such injuries to the skull and head could not have been caused by a fall in the act of delivery, or all caused at the same time—a child falling from the height at which it would fall in the act of delivery might have caused the bruises, but not the fracture—very considerable force would be required to fracture the skull of even so young a child as this—it must have been done by some purposeful blow with some flat surface; it could not have been done by the child itself or by falling—the injury might have been brought about if the head had been directed against some hard flat substance with an equivalent amount of force—the child had had a separate existence, and I found by applying the usual tests to the lungs, that it had breathed I should say, for an appreciable number of seconds—it had an independent circulation of its own—the pumping action of the blood through the artery would cause the spurting appearance on the wall if the artery was cut.
By the COURT. If a sledge hammer had been used it would have broken the skin, but it was not damaged—a bat would have done it if the flat side had been used; it would not necessarily have broken the skin—the contusions over the forehead and the right side of the head were not visible outside—the wound on the forehead was visible outside—if one received a blow with a cricket, bat it would not be visible in thirty seconds.
GEORGE WALLIS (Detective-Inspector J.) On May 11th I saw the prisoner at Whips Cross Infirmary, in Essex—I told her I was a police officer and that I should arrest her for the wilful murder of her newly-born male child on April 23rd by cutting its throat with a pair of scissors at "Wrentham," Church Road, Leyton—she made no reply—I conveyed her to the station and she made no reply to the charge.
By the COURT. May 11th was the first time she was fit.
NOT GUILTY of the murder. GUILTY of endeavouring to conceal the birth. Six months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, May 30th, 1905.
494. JAMES THOMAS (43) PLEADED GUILTY to possessing sixty-one counterfeit coins, well knowing the same to be counterfeit; also to uttering two of the said coins. Nine previous convictions were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. PETER GRAIN Prosecuted.
ERNEST GEORGE COOK . I am a labourer and live at Customs House—at 5.50 p.m. on April 29th I was in the urinal at Garvary Road, Customs House, when the prisoner came in after me—as I was in the act of coming out he delivered me a violent blow with his right fist in my face—it dazed me and I put my hands up—as I did so he put his hand in my pocket—I turned round and seized hold of him, but he shook me off and ran away—I ran after him till I was exhausted—I followed him for about 200 yards—outside the urinal I said to him, "Give me my money back," and he said, "Go to the one who has got it"—before I was assaulted I had 14s. 9d. in my pocket and when we went outside, after I had been struck, I put my hand in my pocket and found it was gone—when I found I could not follow him I spoke to a constable, who took my name and address, and another constable caught the prisoner—on the next occasion that I saw him, I picked him out from a number of other men in a police station, and I say now that he is the man who assaulted and robbed me.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You struggled to get outside and I chased you out—you ran towards Freemasons Road—you were more violent than I was—I caught hold of you, I cannot tell you where—I do not think I said at the police station, "Let me have a fair fight with the prisoner"—I may have said something like it; I was excited.
ELIZABETH BUTCHER . I live at 2 Garvary Road—between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. on April 29th I was standing outside my front door, the urinal being right opposite, when I saw the prosecutor and the prisoner come out—the prosecutor had got hold of the prisoner and they had a tussle and fell to the ground—the prisoner ran away and the prosecutor followed him—I heard the prosecutor ask the prisoner for his money back and the prisoner said that he did not have it and, "Go to them as has got it," or something of that sort—I was taken to the police station, but they did not ask me to identify the prisoner as I knew him.
Cross-examined. When you and the prosecutor got outside the urinal you struck him—I did not see no robbery.
RANCIS CRONK (573 K.) On April 29th I was in Freemason's Road, near Garvary Road, when I saw the prisoner running, being chased by the prosecutor—I had seen the prisoner previous to his going into a public convenience—the prosecutor had no hat on—they ran in the direction of Freemasons Road across Dawson Road, where I lost sight of the prisoner.
JOHN SEAL (133 K.) On April 29th I was on duty in Butcher's Row in plain clothes, when I saw the prisoner running—in consequence of what was told me I gave chase and eventually caught him at the back-yard of 8, Garvary Road—I had chased him about 500 yards—I said, "I am a police officer. You are wanted, and you will have to come with me to the station"—he made no reply—I got him out of the yard and a little way towards the station, when he became very violent and threw himself to the ground—I held him there, and blew my whistle for assistance, which came—on the way to the station he said, "I admit I was there. I give him a black eye, and will do so again if I get the chance"—I had not told him that he was going to be charged for assault or for stealing, because I did not know the full extent of the charge—he was put up for identification at the station and then charged, and he made no reply.
SIDNEY BROWN . I am assistant divisional surgeon at Canning Town—about 8 p.m. on April 29th I was called to the police station, where I examined the prosecutor—he had a contused wound on his right eyebrow, his eye being swollen and completely closed—it looked as if violence had been used to cause it—it must have been a pretty hard blow to break the skin.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have nothing to say, and I have no witnesses to call."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that when he came out of the urinal the prosecutor accused him of robbing him; that he admitted striking the prosecutor, but that he did not rob him, and that only 3d. was found on him when searched.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the West Ham Borough Sessions on June 12th, 1903. Three previous convictions were proved against him; he received a bad character from the police. Five years' penal servitude.
MR. J. H. MURRHY Prosecuted; MR. LINCOLN REED Defended.
JOHN DANIEL CLARK . I am a bricklayer of 19, Fisher's Street, Canning Town, and am seventy two years old—I am the freeholder of 136, Chapel Street, Battersea Park, and of 17, Buckingham Cottages, Rochester Row, Westminster—I built the Battersea Park house myself, and the other one I purchased—the last time I saw the deeds relating to those properties was on a Sunday before April 19th, in my iron safe in my bedroom which I kept locked in a cupboard—I kept the key in my clothes box, which I kept locked, and I had the keys of the clothes box and the cupboard in my pocket—I had authorised nobody to deal with those deeds on my behalf, nor authorised my grandson, Thompson, in particular—on April 10th, mid-day, I received a telegram.
sent to the prosecutor on April 19th, and I take the Court's order to produce it—it is sent from the Canning Town Post Office to John Clark, 19, Fisher's Street, Canning Town, saying, "Come down home at once. Jack. Urgent. Mr. T Ellis"—it was handed in at the Canning Town office at 11.41 a.m.—I cannot tell you what time it was received.
JOHN DANIEL CLARK (Re-examined). I received this telegram about 12 a.m.—Ellis is an old friend of mine and he was ill at the time—I left my house about 12.15 p.m., and when I got there I found that no telegram had been sent, and I could not make out where it had come from—I remained with Ellis sometime and got home between 6 and 7 p.m.—when I left home my clothes box was looked up—I had the key with me—when I came back I took my coat off to put it away in the clothes box, and I had the key but I could not turn the lock, and I saw that the lid when I lifted it up was broken open—the cupboard door was partly open, and I went back from the cupboard to the box and looked for the key, and found that it had gone—the safe was locked and the key taken away—I got two small chisels and broke the lock of the safe open, and found it turned all upside down inside—the first thing I found was that £3 in gold was taken and £3 left; and that the two deeds had gone—I also missed a watch from my clothes box—I had not authorised anybody to take them—I was not anxious at that time to raise any money on the deeds; I had no occasion to—next morning I went round to the police station and a detective came home with me—I heard from the lodger that somebody had been to the house while I was out—I went to see the Magistrate with the detective to get a warrant the next day, but we could not get one—I know nothing of the prisoner—I never asked him to sign any promissory note in my name—as far as I know Thompson has not got any other grandfather but me; at any rate, not any one in the name of John Clark.
Cross-examined. My grandson has not been arrested in connection with this—I do not know where he is—I said to Mrs. Smith, my lodger downstairs, "I have been robbed; my box has been broken into. Has anybody been here?" and she said, "Yes, your grandson has been here"—the first time the detective and I went up, we saw the Magistrate's clerk who said, "You had beetter employ a solicitor at once to get your deeds back, and then I went to see Mr. Stern—I did not see the Magistrate at all on that day—I certainly did not delay going to the police station, in order to give my grandson an opportunity to get away—I saw him on the Sunday, because I always dine at his place every Sunday—he had not been to my house for three months until this affair—when I saw him on the Sunday he did not say anything about his wanting money nor did he ask me to render him any assistance.
Re-examined. I should say that the writing on this telegram produced by Mr. Hollamby which was sent to me, is in my grandson's writing—it is not true that I allowed my grandson to take the deeds.
to the prosecutor and he went out—almost as soon as he had gone his grandson knocked at the door and went upstairs—I went out, so I do not know what happened—when the prosecutor came home he complained to me that he had been robbed.
JAMES EDWARDS (Detective K.) I first received information of the robbery from this safe from the prosecutor on April 20th—he came to the station and told me of the facts—we went to 19, Fisher's Street, where he showed me the place—the next morning, Good Friday, we went to the Police Court, but we were not able to obtain process that day—we returned on Easter Tuesday, when a warrant was granted for the apprehension of Thompson—I first heard of a transaction having taken place in respect of these deeds with Mr. Whiteman on the evening of April 20th—I saw Mr. Whiteman who is a financier and money lender at his office in Walbrook—on April 26th I was sent for to the police station about 10 p.m., when I saw Whiteman, who made a statement to me—in consequence of that we went together to 57, Venue Street, Bromley, where we saw the prisoner—Whiteman said, referring to the prisoner, "This is the man who came to my office with Thompson, and said he was John Clark, and signed some documents in that name"—I said "I am a police officer. What have you got to say?"—he said, "I admit I went to the City with Thompson and represented myself as John Clark, and signed documents in the name of Clark. I done as I was told. Thompson told me what to do"—I asked Whiteman if he would charge the prisoner with obtaining the money, and he said he would do nothing; he would consult his solicitor and let us know next day—I know his solictor to be a Mr. Ash—I returned to Plaistow police station, and reported the matter—I received a letter from him afterwards. [MR. REED objected to the letter being read, which objection the COURT upheld.] I kept observation on the prisoner from April 26th to May 9th—I saw nothing of Thompson—I cannot say whether it was Mr. Ash whom I saw at the Police Court at the hearing of this case, but I see a gentleman here that I saw there—on May 9th I went with Detective Stephens to the prisoner's house, where we saw the prisoner—I said to him, "I am a police officer and I am going to arrest you for being concerned with a man not in custody in stealing certain title deeds, the property of John Clark, of 19, Fisher's Street, and further of forging the name of John Clark to a document, thereby obtaining the sum of £120"—he said "That is funny, you coming to arrest me; I was going to Burdett Road to arrest a man myself for a debt"—on the way to the station, he said, "I done as I was instructed"—when the charge was read over, he said, 'I did not get the money"—on May 10th when taken to the West Ham Police Court, he said, "I called for orders to a man for whom I work. He asked roe if I would accompany a man to London, and I went home and had a wash. I went with a man who I know now was Thompson. I said I was John Clark, and signed some papers. Thompson told me
what to do. He promised me £5, but I only received 3s."—he said his employer was a man named Ewington, a certified bailiff.
Cross-examined. I think I saw Ewington before the interview of April 26th, but I will not be sure—I think it was after I saw him in Romford Road—I saw him before the arrest, immediately after the Easter holidays—Wednesday, April 26th, was the first day on which I saw the prisoner—the prisoner has worked for Ewington occasionally for about two years—it was not on seeing Ewington that I first formed the suspicion that the prisoner had been to London with Thompson—Ewington told me that he had nothing to complain of about the prisoner during the time he had been with him—I have made enquiries about him and find that he has a clean record, with nothing against him, so far as I know—he has been for many years in the merchant service; but I have not seen his discharges—I found that on leaving the merchant service he was employed by a firm for many years, and left there with a good character—he then went to Ewington—on April 20th the prosecutor did not tell me that he suspected anyone at all—he said nothing about his grandson when he came to the police station—we left the station together, and it was then that he told me that he suspected his grandson—I had to make enquiries to get sufficient evidence before I could apply for a warrant against Thompson—I could not have applied sooner—I did not know, on the prosecutor telling me the story on the morning of April 20th, as much as I do now—he told me about the telegram and showed me the safe and I saw the box had been broken open—he told me where he kept the keys, and that he had heard his grandson had been to his house in his absence—I applied for a warrant the next morning, but on account of the holidays I could not get one till Tuesday morning—I made enquiries at once for Thompson at his residence and other places, but it was late in the afternoon before they were quite complete—I was told that he was seen in Poplar on the Saturday evening, but I could not prove it—he has disappeared—I do not think that he has done so with the connivance of the prosecutor—I am quite sure that on April 26th the prisoner said, "I went to your office with Thompson. I said I was John Clark, and signed the name of John Clark to papers"—in the additional evidence served I stated that the prisoner said, "I went with Thompson to your office and said I was John Clark, Mr. Jack's grandfather, and signed papers. I done as I was instructed. Thompson told me what to say and do"—I did not make notes at the time, as the conversation lasted some time, but from recollection—I did not give evidence of that at the Police Court, because I considered the case closed then—it is an important admisson of guilt—I did not think it necessary to mention that statement, because the prisoner had never denied his guilt—I was at the Police Court to satisfy the Magistrate that there was a sufficient case upon which to send the prisoner to trial—the Magistrate considered he had sufficient evidence—I began the statement before the Magistrate, "On May 9th, in consequence of information received," because I was starting from the date of arrest—I was cross-examined at the Police Court on the second occasion—Whiteman said he failed to identify the prisoner,
and I saw further evidence was necessary, and it was forthcoming—with reference to the statement made by the prisoner on the wary to the station on May 10th, I put in, "I said I was John Clark, and signed some papers. Thompson told me what to do," because I must have confused that statement with what occurred at the prisoner's house; I cannot say that he did say that—when before the Magistrate the words were fresh in my mind, and I did not incorporate those words in the statement on May 10th—I say that on April 26th Whiteman positively identified the prisoner as the man who had been to his office—I did not arrest him at the time—I knew where I could find him—I had my own reason for taking the course I did—between April 26th and May 9th on one occasion I asked the prisoner to have a drink—I went to his house and found he was out—I followed him to another house, where his brother-in-law lived—I then asked him to wait in a public-house nicknamed "The Gin Palace," and I paid for drinks—I did not say I did not want to do him any harm if he would help to find Thompson, nor that he would be rewarded if he would assist; nothing of the kind—I may have given him my card with my name and Plaistow police station on it—I told him if he should hear of Thompson to inform me—at the station on May 9th he was searched and a pocket book taken from him which I subsequently returned—I do not know if it had the piece of paper in it with my name and address on—I never saw it—the book was under look and key—I do not know who took that piece of paper out—I went into the public-house to use the telephone and I told him to wait—I have not found anything to the contrary that until the morning of April 19th the prosecutor and the prisoner were absolute strangers.
Re-examined. My account of what took place on April 26th is not concocted—it is not true that I made it up because of the line Whiteman took before the Magistrate.
WILLIAM HERBERT WHITEMAN (By the COURT). I am a moneylender; a financier I call myself—there is no difference really—I know a young man named Thompson—on April 19th, I think it was, he came to my office, 32, Walbrook, and brought with him some deeds which I have here. [An assignment of 17, Buckingham Cottages, Rochester Row, Westminster, in the name of John Clark, dated 1874, a conveyance of freehold land at Chapel Street, Battersea Park, to J. T. Clark, 1866, an abstract of title and other papers produced and handed to the Judge, who stated that he could find no document that had been forged by the prisoner, and that therefore there was no forgery proved, and, it being necessary in a case of forgery in the first place to produce the forged document, directed the Jury, as the case was not proued, to return a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
Third court, June 22nd, 1905.
MR. GRANTHAM and MR. AUBREY THOMAS Prosecuted;
MR. LORT WILLIAMS Defended.
SIMON MARKS . I live in Russell Road, Leyton, and am a greengrocer—I had a bay mare, and on Friday, April 7th, at 8 p.m. I saw her in my stable—I locked the door from the outside—I missed my mare, a bridle, collar, and traces—I have not seen the bridle again—the collar a man found on the road—I next saw my mare on April 13th, at Eastleigh, in the possession of the police—she was quite altered—she was clipped all over where she was half clipped before—she had her mane pulled, that means thinned, and her tail cut—nobody who did not know much of her would recognised her—I had had her for six months and she had certain marks on her which I recognised—she is worth £30 or £35.
Cross-examined. My little boy came and told me the mare had gone—I was at my stall at the Baker's Arms—I first missed her at 8.30, when I went to the stable to look at her; the gate was then open—my little boy missed the mare two or three minutes after she was taken—the stable is in Russell Road and only two or three minutes from the Baker's Arms—the boy came straight to me—my missus sent him to me—she and the boy went to the stable to take the horse out—they saw it going up the road, but they could not see the faces of the two men who were taking it—that was about 8.30—my wife and son started running after them, but the mare is jolly fast, and they could not catch her—there is a constable at the back of the police station—the servant went to the stable, which is at the side of the house—the servant noticed the horse being taken out when she was in the house; she could not recognise either of the men, but she saw two men hanging on the reins and the horse dragging them along—I do not knew Ferry Lane, Walthamstow.
Re-examined. I saw my collar and traces at Walthamstow police station and I identified them.
FREDERICK THOMAS THIMBLEBEE . I live at Blackhorse Lane, Walthamstow, and am a platelayer on the Tottenham and Forest Gate Railway—on the morning of April 8th I found a collar and some traces at Ferry Lane, Walthamstow—I handed them to the police—the prisoners were present when I identified the callar and taces at the Court.
Cross-examined. I found them at 6 o'clock—I cannot say how far Ferry Lane is from Russell Road, Leyton.
FREDERICK WEBBER . I live at "Mayswood," West Hampstead and am a clerk on the Great Western Railway—on April 11th I remember a man coming to book a horse at Paddington to Eastleigh—I have the consignment note—I did not identify the man—the note is signed "Jas" or "J. S. Ball"—the consignor's name is Blake, of Kensal Road, and the consignee is Pownes, Eastleigh—in the ordinary course the horse would have left Paddington at 8.35 a.m.—I did not put it into the box myself, but I know it left at 8.35—it would arrive at Eastleigh between 12 and I—the train would arrive at 11.45, but horse boxes may be transferred
from one train to another—several horses were sent off that day, hut not to Eastleigh.
Cross-examined. I did not see the horse go off; it was booked at 8.15 a.m.—horses to Eastleigh should really be sent from Waterloo; we have a very bad service there—I am not the only booking clerk for horses—I was talking to Ball for about five minutes; he was outside the office—I was speaking to him through the window—I saw his face; he is not one of the prisoners—I do not know any one named Blake in the West of London—I do not deal with horses generally at Paddington; this was a special case—I have been at the offices for nearly two years—I do not get to know hone dealers at Paddington pretty well—I am in the booking office—I did not see the horse.
JOHN RICHARDS . I belong to the Hants Constabulary—about 5 p.m. on Tuesday, April 11th, I was with another constable at Aylesford, in Hampshire, when I stopped the prisoners, who were driving in a gig—I said to them, "You answer the description of two men wanted in London for horse stealing and I shall charge you on suspicion for stealing a horse at Walthamstow; I shall take you to the police station"—Brown replied, "All right, only on suspicion"—Bell made no reply—Aylesford is fifteen miles from Eastleigh.
Cross-examined. The description I got was, "Stolen at Walthamstow on the 7th inst a bay mare 15.2, short mane and tail, star on forehead, white spot on back, shod all round, good-condition, two men suspected; driving in a yellow gig, yellow wheels, yellow about body, bag of corn tied on behind. Description of two men: Age about thirty, dark complexion clean shaven, dark clothes, dark hard hats"—that is not fairly vague—both the prisoners are dark—the description of the cart was accurate—I know it is customary for people who deal in horses to be clean shaven—I did not see them in possession of the stolen horse—Aylesford is fifty-three miles by road from London—I do not know London—I do not know which road you would take from Aylesford to the East of London.
Re-examined. The description I received tallied—the bag of corn was tied on behind.
BERT MILLER . I live with my father at Southampton—I saw the prisoners, I believe, on the 11th, but I do not know which month—I saw a detective on the same day—the prisoners drove into our stable yard on that day with a horse and cart with yellow wheels—they put the horse into the stable and had some breakfast—later on I was told to fetch a mare from Eastleigh railway station—I did so—the mare was subsequently taken by a detective—I brought it back to our stables—the prisoners were still there—they took their horse out of the stable to make room for the mare, and then my father and I had dinner with them—later in the afternoon they went away—the trap was yellow and had yellow wheels, and a nose bag was tied on behind, I believe—I saw the same cart the other day—we had dinner about 2 o'clock—I should think the prisoners left about 3 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoners at Eastleigh before—they were in the yard when the horse arrived from the station—when they
drove away they took their own hone—I brought the mare from the station between 12 and 1—while we were having dinner their horse was in the yard—they did not take the mare with them when they drove away—a detective took it away—Mr. Dunning told me to fetch it from the station—he is the owner of the yard—he is not here—I do not know where he is, nor where my father is—I had to sign a note when I fetched the mare from the station—I signed in the name of Pownee—I do not know that he is a butcher at Eastleigh—my father was a sort of partner in the stables—the prisoners have nothing to do with the stables—I do not know what has become of Pownee—he has gone—another horse was not tied behind when the prisoners drove into the yard.
GEORGE SMITH . I keep the Ranleigh Hotel, Eastleigh—I know nothing about the stables which are close there, but I have been told that Mr. Dunning keeps them—I know Miller—he had the stables; they are about 100 yards from my house—I recognise the prisoners as coming into my house on April 11th for breakfast about 8.45, and for dinner about 1.15—Miller and his son came with them—they all sat down to the same table—Brown offered to pay for the dinner for all four, but Miller objected and said he would pay for himself and his son.
Cross-examined. Mine is a temperance hotel—I have an eating house in front as well—I did not think it extraordinary for these four people to have breakfast and then lunch at my place—Miller had been in two or three times a week for three weeks—I had never seen the prisoners there before—I did not hear what they were talking about—it did not look as if there was any conspiracy between them—they were having a meal in the ordinary way.
Re-examined. I was not looking for a conspiracy.
HENRY GREGORY , (Sergeant, Hampshire Constabulary) I am stationed at Eastleigh—on April 11th I received information that a mare had been stolen from Walthamstow, and on the morning of April 12th I went to "Park View," 10, Market Street, Eastleigh, to a stable there which was rented by George Dunning—I there found a mare with five others—I took possession of the mare, which was dark brown and answered the description I had—she was afterwards identified by Mr. Marks.
Cross-examined. George Dunning has absconded and also Pownes and Miller—I took Pownee and Miller to the station, but after that they went—I did not see the prisoner at Miller's stables or in the possession of the stolen horse—the other horses belonged to the firm of Miller, Pownes and Dunning; at least, they were in their stables and I supposed they belonged to them—they may have belonged to someone else—I know part of the road to London from Eastleigh—there are two or three ways you can go; the nearest is by Winchester and Basingstoke—I cannot say f it is nearer to turn off by the Golden Farmer through Alton.
By the COURT. There are other stables at Eastleigh—my information was that the prisoner were detained at Aylesford and that they had stated they came from Southampton, and, knowing that Miller, Pownes, and Dunning dealt in hones, I went there—Eastleigh is six miles from Southampton.
ROBERT SHARP (Detective-Sergeant N.) About 4 p.m. on April 12th I saw the prisoners detained at Aylesford—I said, "I am a police officer from London, and I am making enquiries about a mare stolen from Walthamstow, and I understand you know what you are detained for"—Brown said, "Yes, we are detained on suspicion of stealing the mare, but we know nothing about it; they say," meaning the police, "we had it when we came through Basingstoke, but the horse we had when we came through Basingstoke we bought from a traveller named Clark for £5 10s. at Caledonian Market, and the gig we bought at the Elephant and Castle of a man, we do not know his name and address, for £12"—they did not give Clark's address—I said, "I am going on to Eastleigh to make enquiries there"—Bell turned round and said, "Well, you won't find anything there"—the following day, about 5 p.m., I arrived at Aylesford and said to the prisoners, "I have found the mare at Dunning's stables, Market Street, Eastleigh, and you answer the description of two men who were at the stables when the mare arrived"—Brown said, "I came through Eastleigh, but never stopped"—Bell said, "I was never in Dunning's stables"—I afterwards placed them with six other men and they were identified by Miller and Smith as having been in the coffee shop—I told them I should take them back to London on a charge of stealing—on the way, in the train, Bell said, "You have got the mare"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Have you got anybody else for receiving it?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Is not that strange?"—at the station they were asked where the trap was, and he said, "We had it at a place at Tooting, but it is a friend's place and we do not want to say anything; we do not want to let them into it, or know what the trouble is we are in"—they said they could both prove where they were that particular night by Bell's wife and by his landlady—Brown said he could prove where he was—they both live together.
Cross-examined. We have the prisoners' address—Bell said he could prove they were both at home on the night of the robbery—I have got all they said in my pocket book; I made my notes when I got home to Walthamstow—I will swear to the accuracy of what they said—I made some notes at once, and then put them altogether when I got home—the greater part of what I have said is from memory—when I taxed the prisoners with having been through Basingstoke they said at once they had been there with a horse tied behind, but that is not the horse charged here—I cannot say if you would pass through Basingstoke going from Leyton to Eastleigh—I do not know the road; I generally go by train—London is fifty-seven miles from Aylesford—I put the prisoners among six other men, and they said they were satisfied with their position—they said, "We do not know which stable you mean"—the stable is really Dunning's; I believe he is the landlord—it is quite possible that the prisoners made a mistake about it—I do not know if Brown had ever been to Eastleigh before, but I think there is no doubt about it; I believe he is a native of that part; from what I have been told, he belongs to Winchester I believe his father was in Winchester for many years—this gig is not one you would see every day—the suspicion was thrown upon the prisoners
because they were at Miller's, and because the mare was found there—we have seen Miller a time or two since, but we have not got him here—he, and Dunning, and Pownes have been suspected in the neighbourhood—I do not know if Brown's people live at Winchester now—I think enquiries have been made as to livery stable keeper named Blake in Paddington—I do not know if there is one of that name at Kensal Rise—I do not know of any horse dealer of that name—I call Bell fair—I do not know if the description was two dark men—the prisoners were not identified at all in London—they were placed for identification at Stratford, and the people failed to identify them.
Re-examined. Mr. Smith had no doubt about their identification—I do not know where Brown's father lives now—the prisoners were together when Brown said, "I came through Eastleigh, but never stopped."
MR. WILLLIAMS submitted there was no case to go to the Jury, as there was no evidence of the prisoners having been seen near Mark's stables. The COURT held that the case must go to the Jury.
Brown, in his defence on oath, said that he was a horse dealer; that on April 7th he and Bell were at home, at 6, Aldane Road, Fulham, between 8.30 and 9 p.m. with Bell's wife, and her sister, and Waddell; that he and Bell passed through Basingstoke on April 9th with a horse tied behind their cart, on the way to Southampton, where they arrived on the Monday, and sold the horse to a travelling man named Clark; that he (Brown) travelled about the road on his business; that he knew nothing of the stolen mare and never saw it, to his knowledge; that he knew nothing of the harness; that he did not know Ferry Lane, Walthamstow; that he knew Miller, but not Dunning or Pownes; that he knew there was a horse dealer named Blake at Kensal Rise; that that was not his (Brown's) name, although he went by that name; that he did not know Eastleigh by that name, but as Bishop's Stoke; and that it was true they had bought the gig from a man whose name he did not know at Caledonian Market.
Bell, in his defence on oath, said that on April 7th he went home to Aldane Road at 8.30 and stopped in until next day; that his wife and her sister and Waddell were there; that Fulham is about eighteen miles from Leyton; that on Sunday he drove with a horse behind, through Basingstoke with Brown; that they sold the horse to a travelling man who lived in a waggon; that he knew nothing about the stolen horse; that he did not know Ferry Lane; and that they had breakfast with a man at Eastleigh, but that he did not know his name was Miller.
Evidence for the Defence.
Cross-examined. I do not know what time my husband came home on April 3rd or April 1st—he comes home at all times—sometimes he and Brown are rather late, it may be 10 or 11, or after turning-out time, which in our neighbourhood is 12.30—I know Tooting—I do not know Mr. Thompson; I have never heard the name—I do not know where
my husband stables his odd horses; I believe he has a stable at Edgware Road—he put them up wherever we were living, but I did not enquire into his business—we have never lived in Kensal Rise or Kensal Road; we have lived at Shepherd's Bush and Leytonstone—I know Leytonstone fairly well; we lived there about three years—Leytonstone, Walthamstow, and Lea Bridge are fairly close together—as far as I know, the only place my husband stabled horses in April was at Edgware Road; I do not know the name of the stables.
Re-examined. It is six or seven months ago that we lived at Leyton-stone—my husband has never had a stable of his own that I know of—on April 7th my sister's sweetheart, Mr. Waddell, was at our house; he is not there every night—I remember April 7th, because my husband brought home some bacon in the morning and I cooked it—Tooting is not far from Fulham.
Cross-examined. I am living with my sister now—up to April 7th or 8th I went to Walham Green, where she lives, about twice—I do not know the other time; it was a Sunday evening; it was since Christmas, I think about January, February, or March—I only spent the evening there; I left to go to Putney, where I have to be about 10—I was first asked whether I was at my sister's house on a certain day in April, on the Saturday week after the Friday evening—my sister asked if I remembered being with her that night, and I remembered being there—I have known Bell about two years, I think—I have not known him by any other name—I have not heard him called Arthur Jones or Rose—I do not know where my brother-in-law stabled—I have never seen him with a horse.
Re-examined. I did not go to Walham Green to meet Mr. Waddell; we both went there together.
Cross-examined. I do not go there very often; perhaps about once a week—I meet Miss Barnes two or three times a week somewhere else.
GUILTY . There were indictments against the prisoners which were not proceeded with, but the COURT expressed the opinion that any money in the hands of the police should be handed to the proper owners.
BELL then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on July 25th, 1904, as Arthur Jones. One other conviction was proved against him and one against BROWN (†) Two years' hard labour each.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, May 29th, 1905.
MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted.
FRANK SHIRLEY RAINER . I am first cashier at the London and South Western Bank at Lewisham High Road—on October 20th, 1904, this cheque (Produced) for £3 15s. 6d. was presented for payment—it is drawn in favour of F. King and signed Edgar Plummer—it was presented through the London City & Midland Bank, Rotherhithe—I sent it back to the bank marked, "Forged signature"—it is something like the signature of our customer, but it would not deceive anybody who knew it—the cheque had been taken from a book issued to James Brigg—he is no our customer now.
EDGAR PLUMMER . I live at 203, High Road, Lewisham, and am a draper—I have an account at the New Cross Branch of the London & South Western Bank—this cheque was not drawn by me—the signature is a poor imitation—I do not know the prisoner—I never employed any man called King to repair blinds or do any work for me—I never gave him this cheque.
WALTER JOHNSON . I live at 1, Evelyn Street, Deptford, and am a pawnbroker—a man came into my shop and asked me if I would cash this cheque; I think it was on October 20th—I gave him £3 15s. 6d. for it—I cannot identify the man—I gave him the full face value—I paid it into my account at the London City & Midland Bank—it was returned marked "Forged."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When you came into my shop, as you say you did, you may have said that you did not want the full amount, but you had the full amount.
Re-examined. He said he took the cheque from a Mr. Plummer, a large draper at Lewisham, for repairing a blue blind
By the COURT. He had done work for me about a week before.
NEWSTEAD WESTBROOK . I live at 50, Birch Road, Peckham, and am a salesman—I know the prisoner and introduced him to Mr. Johnson who is my governor, about October 17th—the prisoner asked me if I thought the governor would change a crossed cheque for him, and that is why I introduced him.
WILLIAM BINCH (Sergeant, New Scotland Yard). On May 2nd I found the prisoner detained at Beverley police station—I told him I was a police officer from Scotland Yard and had come for him, and anything he said would be taken down in writing, and might be given in evidence against him—he said, "That is what I want you to do. I want to get it over so that I can go back to my work"—he made this statement to me, which I took down at his dictation—it was read over to him and he signed it
—he was taken to the station and made no reply to the charge (Statement read): "I made the acquaintance of a friend of Morgan's, in Carrington House, Deptford, last October, and he asked me if I could get a cheque cashed for him as it was a crossed cheque and he had no banking account. I said, 'It seems funny, but the cheque is made payable to the same name as yourself. I was in the dining room at the time; he told me to see him later on in the smoking room there. I said, 'To-morrow morning I daresay I can get the cheque cashed for you.' After getting the cheque cashed at Mr. Johnson's, at Deptford, I think it was £3 15s., I gave it to Morgan's friend and he gave me 10s. the next day; he said to me, 'I have another cheque for £7 odd.' He said, 'If you can cash that, you can have a sovereign,' I said, 'I will have nothing at all to do with it.' We had been drinking together and I struck him, and I went away after being told the cheque he had given me before was a worthless one. I forgot to mention that when I was going with him to Johnson's, a man told me to say I had been doing a job for some draper in Lewisham High Road, whose name I forget, and that it was given to me in payment for work done. I do not know the man's name, but he has got a wife, an actress. He told me not to tell Morgan how much we got for the cheque, as he would be satisfied with a few shillings. The above is an entirely voluntary statement made by me"—this (Produced) is a circular which Mr. Plummer sent out in the neighbourhood; it bears his signature.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that the statement he made to the police was true; that when he took the cheque to Mr. Johnson he told a lie; that as soon as he knew the police were after him he thought it was better to get it done with, so that he could get back to work; that he intended to wait till the next Sessions as he thought they occurred every three months, and then give himself up; that he did not know where the man was who had spoken to him about the cheque, but that he had given the police a description.
GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner had always borne an excellent character; that the man who had signed the cheques had been sentenced to three months' for fraud and had got the prisoner to cash the cheque for him. Three months hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, May 30th and 31st, 1905.
499. JOHN THOMAS COLLINS (21), FRANCIS JOHN LOWE (24), AND JOHN HOARE (24) , Conspiring and agreeing together to defraud the Gas Light and Coke Co. of their moneys. Second count. LOWE, Obtaining by false pretences from the said Company 11s. 6d. 3s., 8s., 5s., and 8s., with intent to defraud. HOARE, Obtaining by false pretences from the said company, 3s. 11d., 3s. 4d., 9s., 6s. 9d. and 9s., with intent to defraud; and COLLINS, Making and agreeing in making certain false entries in a book of the said company and making and con-curring in making certain false entries in certain wages sheets belonging to the said company.
HAROLD IAGO . I am chief engineer to the Gas Light and Coke Co. at their Beckton Works—Collins was employed there in the oil gas and tar department, at a weekly wage of 35s.—Lowe and Hoare worked under him and were paid by time, Lowe at the rate of 6d. an hour, and Hoare at 6 3/4 d. an hour—Collins had been in the company's service to my knowledge three years; Lowe under twelve months—I cannot tell you as to Hoare—in that department it was sometimes necessary for the men to work overtime and sometimes on Sundays—for working on Sundays they would get double time allowed, and for overtime on week days it was an hour and a quarter for certain hours and more as it got on towards night time; it varied—in March and April the prisoners were doing day work and overtime if it was required—Collins would not be paid extra for overtime—it was his duty to keep the times of Lowe and Hoare in this book called "Collins' time book (Produced)—there were only three other men, besides himself and the other two prisoners, whose times he had to keep—for this purpose our week ended at 5 p.m. on Thursday, and anything after that would be overtime—on Fridays I find some of the figures have a little dash under them, which means that the men worked overtime on the Thursday after the book was made up—the wages sheets were made out from Collins' time book, and all the particulars of over-time made by Collins were copied into the wages sheets by a time keeper; then the amount due to each man would be made up by a clerk from the wages sheet—a book was kept for the valve men, whose duty it is to manipulate the valves for supplying the gas to town—one of them would be on duty all the twenty-four hours—the head valvemen were required to keep a book in which they put the times of Lowe and Hoare coming in and going out—otherwise they had nothing to do with those prisoners—they simply had to book them in and out—this is the valvemen's time book for the period in question (Produced), in which the times are booked—assuming both to be accurate, the times in the valvemen's book and Collins' time book must agree—on April 19th my assistant, Mr. Moys, spoke to me, and in consequence of what he said I examined the entries in Collins' time book with the entries in the valvemen's book for the week between April 7th and 14th, for which the prisoners would be paid on Friday, the 14th—I sent for the prisoners and saw them in my office in the presence of Mr. Moys—I said to Collins. "A serious charge has been made against you; that is, that you have booked Lowe and Hoare's time that they have not worked"—he said, "It was dirty money"—that means a special allowance made for dirty work—I said, "There was no dirty work"—had there been any, he would have had to ask for permission to book it—he acknowledged that he had not asked—I then said, "What do you say to these two men being booked in on Sunday sixteen hours when you know they were not at work?"—he said, "I know they were not, and I must suffer for it," or words akin to that—it is as near as I can remember—I asked Lowe and Hoare if they had heard what Collins had said, and said, "Do you agree that you accepted this money, well knowing that you had not worked for it?"
and each of them said, "Yes"—I told them that I must report the matter to the general manager, and I suspended them—they then left—Mr. Moys was the person who would authorise "dirty money" to be paid—on April 20th Hoare came into my office and asked if he might have the money that was due to him, and I told him that it must wait until the end of the investigation—he said, "Can you overlook my share in this offence, as I was drawn into it, and it was only on one occasion?"—he meant by that Sunday, April 9th—I said, "I cannot accept that, because there is another occasion—there are two Sundays where the same thing happened, and it was your duty, if you received more money than you earned, to acquaint me of the matter, and not keep it As you have not done so, I consider you all three to blame, and I can make no distinction between you"—he said he had asked Collins to take the money back, and he promised he would never book any more time that was not due to him, and he said that he had told Collins that they would be sure to be found out owing to the check book that was kept by the valvemen, and that that was why he asked Collins to take it back, but that Collins said he would not—I told him if he wished to make any further appeal he could put it down in black and white and I would send it to the proper quarter, meaning the general manager—the matter was referred to the general manager and it was then out of my hands—on taking Collins time book and the valvemen's book for the week ending March 10th I find under Saturday, March 4th, in Collins' time book, opposite Hoare's name, the figure 2, showing that he was credited with two hours overtime, and opposite Lowe's name also the figure 2, showing that he was credited also with two hours overtime—on Monday, March 6th, Collins has credited Lowe and Hoare with one hour overtime each—on Wednesday, March 8th, he has credited each of them four hours overtime—on Sunday, March 5th, he has credited Lowe with sixteen hours, but there is nothing to Hoare on that day—the total extra hours credited to Hoare during that week are seven, which would be equal to 3s. 11d. extra—Lowe is credited with twenty-three hours extra, equal to 11s. 6d.—in the valvemen's time book neither of them is shown as having worked overtime that week at all—in Collins' time book for the week ending March 17th, on Friday March 10th, Hoare and Lowe are credited with four hours overtime each—on Sunday, March 11th, they are both credited with two hours—that is all in that week—the extra money paid that week to Hoare would be 3s. 4d., and Lowe 3s.—the valvemen's time book for that week shows no overtime credited to either of them—in Collins' time book for the next week, ending March 24th, Hoare and Lowe are both credited with sixteen hours on Sunday, March 19th, and so far as the valvemen's time book is concerned, there is no entry of them having done any work on that day—that would be 9s. for Hoare and 8s. for Lowe—then there is a week missing—for the week ending April 6th, Hoare is credited on Friday, March 31st, with eight hours, and Lowe with six hours, which would be the overtime carried forward from, the previous Thursday—on April 1st they are both credited with two hours overtime, and on Monday, April 3rd, they ate both, credited with one hour, and the
same thing again on April 5th—in that week the total extra hours credited to Hoare is twelve, equal to 6s. 9d. extra in wages, and to Lowe ten hours, equal to 5s.—in the valvemen's time book for that week there is no entry of either of them having worked overtime—for the week ending April 14th in Collins' time book they are both credited on Sunday, April 9th, with working sixteen hours, on which occasion they both admitted they had not worked.
Cross-examined by Collins. I do not wish to discredit the statement that you were in the company's service some years before I came—Mr. Moys has been in the position of assistant engineer twelve months—Mr. Cossey was the assistant engineer before him—you did not within my recollection, on my saying that there was a serious charge against you, go through your time book, and show that the entries were vouched for by Mr. Cossey—you did try to explain that Mr. Cossey had vouched it, but it was for some prior accounts, not the ones in this charge—Mr. Cossey had left his position some ten months before these entries were made, and had nothing at all to do with the entries in question—you kept the times of a very small gang and they were working at hours when the regular time keepers would not be at the works, and would not be able to book, therefore a book was given to you in which to book their time—you have never pointed out to me or tried to make out that on previous occasions Mr. Cossey has corrected entries, so as to make the men receive more—for some time past the dirty work has been removed from your department altogether, and now there is no dirty work which would come under your supervision—I am not in a position to say whether you would see the valvemen's time book or not; it is not material to the question—it would not be Berry's duty to bring your time book up to me to sanction the overtime; it would go to my assistants—you would have to give your book to Berry to transfer the overtime for wages—he is the timekeeper who makes but the sheets; he is not in a position to allow overtime—I put you on a fixed weekly wage instead of by the hour; that covered the overtime—I did not give instructions with reference to keeping the times—I showed you the entries and you then volunteered to make a clean breast of it—you did not show me entries that I had not seen before; I did not require you to do so—I had only then found false entries in the weeks ending April 7th and 14th—I cannot tell you under what heading you were paid—the heading would not make any difference as to your wages.
Cross-examined by Hoare. Collins was your timekeeper—if Berry wrongly copied the entries in Collins' time book on to the wages sheets, it would lead to the men getting wrong wages—if there were any question with reference to the amount, I should say your duty would be to go to Collins—Berry would not personally check your work; he would not know whether you were there or what you were doing—I know the entries in Collins' time books are his, because they are in his handwriting—he has never handed it over to somebody else, and gone away for a week.
examined the wages sheets for the last week, and found some discrepancies, which made me go and see Collins—I asked him who booked up Hoare and Lowe, and he replied, "I do"—I went to Hoare and Lowe and said to Hoare, "What wages did you receive last week?" in Collins' and Lowe's hearing—Hoare replied, "I do not know"—I said, "That is ridiculous; you must know. Well, I will tell you, 36s. Can you tell me how it was made up?"—he said, "No"—I said, "You know you did not work any overtime"—he said, "Yes, that is so"—I then left, Collins following me—he said, "You had better give us all the sock"—I told him that I should have to report the matter to Mr. Iago, and I did so a few minutes afterwards—I saw the prisoners together again and said to Hoare, "Did you tell Collins to book this overtime for you?"—he said, "No"—I put the same question to Lowe, who said, "Yes"—Collins heard what was said, and he seemed annoyed at one saying "Yes" and the other "No;" and he said, "Well, I will make a clean breast of it; we are all in the swim"—the next day, April 20th, after Hoare had seen Mr. Iago, he saw me and said that he would not make any further statement—I know Collins' writing—this is his time book, and is in his writing—I have not the least doubt about that—no overtime would be worked on weekdays or Sundays without my knowledge—on the Sundays between March 3rd and April 19th, when the prisoners were suspended, there was no overtime worked by either Lowe, Hoare, or Collins—I usually go to the works about 10 a.m. on Sundays, and I was there on all those Sundays until about 1 p.m.—the prisoners were not at work on those days, or I should have seen them—if they had desired to work on Sundays, they could not have done so without my permission, and I had no such application from them—there was no necessity for them to work then—between March 3rd and April 19th, as regards weekdays, only on March 23rd to 25th did I give authority to work overtime, which was for unloading an oil ship—Hoare worked overtime on those occasions, but he was paid, and it appears in the valvemen's books—apart from that I did not sanction any other overtime—if a man is put on a job that spoils his clothes, such as emptying tanks, we make him an extra allowance called "dirty money" to cover the expense; we allow for so many hours—I am quite sure that between March 3rd and April 19th no such work was done by the prisoners, nor by anybody in our employ—previous to that there had been some, but it was done in a different department to the prisoners'—if such work were done the "dirty money" would not have been credited to the prisoners without my knowing it, and my sanction would have to be asked.
Cross-examined by Collins. I did not know that you booked Hoare and Lowe's times—I did not have to get out the expenses of the oil gas tar department, nor did I enter it up in my sheet—the last time that Mr. Iago gave instructions for oil gas tar to be prepared day and night was about last November and December—I cannot say whether he told Mr. Davies of the tar burning people, that they were working day and night—Mr. Davies is not in our employ, but somebody whom we dealt with—I cannot say whether I told him that Lowe and Hoare were working
day and night on it—Mr. Iago left it to my discretion when they should work—about Christmas you did say something to me about telling Berry to do all the booking on and off, so that he could make up the times himself; there was a complaint that you were not booking your own time properly—that was after you were put on fixed wages—Mr. Iago gave instructions that the men had to book on in the valve room, and I insisted that that should be done, and then you desired that Berry should do it—I said you must book on in the valve room and you threatened to leave, and I said, "Well, you will have to leave if you do not book on"—this was three months before March—if you wanted any extra money for extra work, you came and asked me for that yourself—when Hoare came to see me there was no object in asking him to make a written statement, so that I could prosecute you and Lowe—Mr. Burroughs was not working with me in charge of the tar during the time in question, and I am sure there was no bad feeling between you, myself and Mr. Burroughs—Lowe and Hoare did work sometimes on a Sunday in September and October—when I was in Mr. Iago's office I did not say that I knew it was a conspiracy between you three.
Cross-examined by Lowe. I think it was 24s. a week you were told you were to have when you came on first; I told Collins that, as far as I can remember; that would be 6d. per hour, 4s. a day—I am sure I did not tell you that there would be an extra allowance for "dirty money"; I never used such an expression—I am quite sure you did not do the same work as Hoare—I do not think you were booked on and off when you worked on Sundays in September and October—in those days there was some arrangement between you three by which you neglected to book on at all for about two months, I think, and when my attention was called to it I told you you must book on; that is the time you are referring to—you would come to work without Collins booking you, and I said it must be done—I cannot say whether Collins held the Collins' time book the whole week—it is the rule that there must always be a valve man in the valve room or one of his assistants all the twenty-four hours—the telegraph and telephone instruments are there, and they are continuously receiving messages—it would be very foolish if a man were to start work without booking on; he would go to the valve room to report himself, so as to get his extra time booked—I never heard any complaint from you or Hoare that they could not find any man to book in.
Cross-examined by Hoare. When I asked you what wages you had received there was no mention of a ticket all the time—I was present at the interview with you and Mr. Iago on April 20th—you wanted to know if you could resume work, but you were suspended—Mr. Iago told you you had better go into Mr. Wright's office and make a statement—you asked, in consideration of the position your father held in the gas works, and your family circumstances, to be let off if it could be overlooked—you did not ask me what the statements to be written down were for, nor did I say, "You had better write that statement. It will clear yourself, and help to prosecute the others."
Re-examined. Between March 3rd and April 19th Mr. Burroughs
had nothing to do with allowing overtime—he took my place on some occasions when I was away—Collins introduced Lowe about September or October.
HENRY HERRY . I am a timekeeper in the service of the Gas Light and Coke Co. at their Beckton Gasworks, and it is part of my duty to make out the wages sheets of the men employed by the company, among whom were Hoare and Lowe—this is the wages sheet for the week ending March 10th, made out by me (Produced), which contains the wages of Hoare and Lowe—I got the times which are put down in this sheet from Collins' time book—I find for the week ending March 10th Hoare is credited with sixty-two and a half hours at 6 3/4 d. per hour, £1 15s. 2d., and Lowe sixty-two and a half hours at 6d. an hour, £1 11s. 3d—this is the wages sheet ending March 17th (Produced), made out from the entries in Collins' time book, and I find that Hoare is credited fiftyfour hours at 6 3/4 d. an hour, and his wages, £1 10s. 5d.—Lowe fifty-four hours, £1 7s.—this is the wages sheet for the week ending March 24th, made out in the same way (Produced), and I find that Hoare is credited with sixty-four hours, £1 16s., and Lowe sixty-four hours, £1 12s.—this is my wages sheet for the week ending April 7th (Produced), and I find Hoare has sixty hours, £1 13s. 9d., and Lowe fifty-eight hours, £1 9s.—this is my wages sheet for the week ending April 14th (Produced), and Hoare's time is sixty-four hours, £1 16s., and Lowe sixty-four hours, £1 12s.
Cross-examined by Collins. You had the time book on Thursday morning to make up—you could have had it any day you liked—I made up the sheets on Thursday morning and the men were paid on Friday afternoon—after I finished with the book it remained in my place if they did not fetch it—you brought the book in and sometimes left it—I am not always in the office—I believe occasionally you sent somebody for it—nobody had any right to make any entries but you—I do not know who made it up—the instructions were that you were to make it up—I cannot say whether the entry on October 14th, 1904, is in your writing—I have been thirty years in the service of the company, but I cannot say how long you have been with the company because there are so many men—you got from 6 1/2 d. to 6 3/4 d. per hour, 4s. 6d. a day, before you were put on fixed wages—I cannot say what time you did not work—I do not know that you got paid overtime for work that you did not do—I keep Durrant's time—I am not empowered to book him for more hours than he has worked—I only book him for work that he does—you do not have to book his time—I did not send the book out to you in order that you might do so—I do not know whether you book Powell's time or not—Durrant and Powell are in another department to yours altogether—they may have asked you to book their time—they are nothing to do with me—Joynes was only paid for the time he worked—forty-eight hours a week is the time he works—he begins at 9 a.m. and goes home at 5 p.m.—he comes down earlier than necessary—he has never come three quarters of an hour late and yet received his full wages—they get allowed forty-eight hours if they work eight hours on five days
and four and three quarter hours on Saturday—since this affair Joynes has been booking in at 9 a.m.—I do not remember Mr. Cossey crossing out some of your figures some years back—I do not know anything about it.
Cross-examined by Hoare. There was no dispute between you and Collins brought to me within the last two or three months—I do not know anything about Collins being away the whole day on a Thursday and somebody else booking you.
HERBERT MOYS (Re-examined). It was not Collins' special duty to book Powell's and Durrant's times, but he did so—he was not responsible at all for their times—he had nothing whatever to do with their work—I cannot say how it came about that he booked their time—the entries in Collins' time book for the weeks ending April 7th, March 31st, 24th, 17th, 10th, and 3rd are all in his handwriting; in fact, right back to the beginning of January.
JOHN JAMES ESCREET . I am a pay clerk in the service of the Gas Light and Coke Co. at Beckton, and it is my duty to pay to each man employed at that branch their weekly wages—the amounts I paid the men appear on the wages sheet—for the week ending March 10th, according to the wages sheet, I paid Hoare £1 15s. 2d., which included 3s. 11d. for extra hours, and I paid Lowe £1 11s. 3d.—for the week ending March 17th I paid Hoare £1 10s. 5d. and Lowe £1 7s.—for the week ending March 24th Hoare £1 16a. and Lowe £1 12s.—for the week ending April 7th I paid Hoare £1 13s. 9d. and Lowe £1 0s. 9d.—for the week ending April 14th Hoare £1 16s. and Lowe £1 12s.
ARTHUR PHILLIPS . I am a head valveman in the service of the company at Beckton—it is one of my duties to enter in a book known as the valvemen's time book the hours at which Lowe and Hoare and other workmen come to work in the morning and when they go away—this takes place in the valve room and it is the men's duty when they come in and go out to report themselves—taking the valvemen's time book (Produced), on Thursday, March 9th, I find Lowe is booked in at 6 a.m. and out at 4p.m., so that there is no overtime on that day—on the same day I booked Hoare in at 6 a.m.—on March 23rd I booked Lowe out at 5 p.m., and he did not work any overtime on that day from my book—on April 3rd I booked Lowe in at 7.30 a.m. and Hoare at 7.20 a.m.—on April 5th Lowe at 7.35 a.m. and Hoare at 7.20 a.m.—when a man books out it means that he has finished work for the day, and he will not be doing overtime—nobody but a valveman or one of his assistants was authorised to book a man in and out—when I booked in and out I always saw the men myself—the cases which I have given are those on which I personally booked the prisoners—I did not take them from other people's reports—sometimes one of my assistants would enter the times on a piece of paper when I was not there, and I would enter it into the book—on March 23rd I did not book either of them in; I was not on duty on the morning of that day—on April 3rd and 5th I was there.
Gross-examined by Collins. I cannot say if your book was made up from the valvemen's time book—I had nothing to do with your book—
I have known you come in and look at the valvemen's time book—there was always someone in the valve room—the telegraph boy is an assistant for that purpose; he is always there and used to book times—he is there to do what he is told—it is not necessary for this case to tell you whether I am a shareholder in the company or not—I do not know whether your time was ever booked on a slate.
GEORGE ROLPH . I am one of the head valvemen in the service of the company at Beckton, and it was part of my duty when I was in charge of the valve room to book the men's time on and off—on Sunday, March 5th, I was at the works all day from 7 a.m. till 6 p.m.—Lowe was not at work on that day—on March 6th I booked him in at 7.30 a.m., and Hoare at 7.20 a.m.—on March 8th Lowe in at 7.25 a.m., and Hoare at 7.28 a.m.; March 10th, Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and Hoare in at 7.30 a.m.; Saturday, March 11th, Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and out at noon, and Hoare in at 7.20 a.m., and out at noon—no overtime was done by either of them on that day—I remained on duty on that day till 2 p.m., beginning at 7 a.m.—from Saturday night till 7 a.m. on Sunday morning, March 19th, I was on duty, and when I left neither of them had been to the works—on Thursday, March 30th, I booked Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and Hoare at 7.20 a.m.; Friday, March 31st, Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and Hoare in at 7.20 a.m.; Saturday, April 1st, Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and out at noon, and Hoare in at 7.20 a.m., and out at noon—on that day neither of them worked overtime—on April 3rd I booked Lowe out at 5 p.m., and Hoare out at 5 p.m.; neither worked overtime on that day—Wednesday, April 5th, I booked Lowe out at 5 p.m., and Hoare out at 5 p.m.; no overtime that day—on Saturday, April 8th, I was on duty at night until 7 a.m. on Sunday—when I left neither of them had been to the works.
Cross-examined by Collins. I never knew your time book to be made up from the valvemen's book, nor the valvemen's book to leave the valve room for that purpose—I had no instructions as to the valve book leaving the valve room—there were times when I booked Lowe and Hoare off when I was not in the valve room; I took those entered on a slate by somebody else—the times that these men have come in have been written sometimes on a slate—it would not be possible for Lowe or Hoare to book on a Sunday morning, and off at night without my seeing them during that time; I would see them during that time about the works as a rule—I have never seen them there on a Sunday this year—sometimes when we were busy and you came in, we should put it on a piece of paper, and then enter it the same night or the following morning—if you wanted to book Lowe and Hoare off, and you mentioned it to the valvemen, I do not know that they ever booked them off for you—you have come to me to ask me to book them off, but I have always seen them go.
JOHN BENNETT . I am a head valveman in the service of the company at Beckton—on Saturday, March 4th, I booked Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and out at noon, and Hoare in at 7.30 a.m., and out at noon, so on that day neither of them did any overtime—on Wednesday, March 8th, I booked Lowe out at 5 p.m., and Hoare at the same time, and there was no overtime done by them on that day—Friday, March 9th, I booked Hoare out
at 4 p.m.; he did no overtime that day—on Sunday, March 19th, I went on duty at 7 a.m., and remained till 6 p.m.; neither Hoare nor Lowe were at work during that day—Thursday, March 23rd, I booked Lowe in at 7.30 a.m., and Hoare in at 7.25 a.m.; Saturday, March 25th, Lowe in at 7.20 a.m., and out at noon; Friday, March 31st, Lowe out at 5 p.m., and Hoare out at 5 p.m.; no overtime done by them on that day—on Sunday, April 9th, I was on duty at the works from 7 a.m. till 6 p.m., and neither Hoare nor Lowe were at work on that day.
Cross-examined by Collins. If you had Hoare and Lowe at work on a tar barge I would not see them—I would know you were loading it, because you would book on and off when you were done—if you kept them there till 10.15 and they booked off, I would consider they were done; I should not know what you were doing with them.
By the COURT. If they had been working on Sunday or overtime they would come and report so as to get their overtime allowed.
FREDERICK LEONARD . I am third valveman in the service of the company at Beckton—on Monday, March 6th, I booked Lowe out at 5 p.m. and Hoare out at 5 p.m., so that neither of them did any overtime on that day.
Cross-examined by Collins. If you had Lowe and Hoare at work on the foreshore in a tar barge, I should not purposely go up and see whether they were working or not—they could come at 9, 10 or 11 p.m. and book off, and I would not know whether they had done any work or not—if they did not come and book off, they would not get their overtime.
By the COURT. There are no gates where they come in and out—if a man came from the outside and booked off, I could not say whether he had been at work or not; I would book him out as having been at work.
GEORGE SPACKMAN . I am fourth valveman in the company's service at Beckton, and it was part of my duty when in charge of the valve room to book the men on and off—on March 10th I booked Lowe and Hoare out at 5 p.m.; there would be no overtime done by them on that day—on Thursday, March 30th, I booked them out at 5 p.m.; again no overtime—on Sunday, March 19th, I was on duty from 7 a.m. till 6 p.m., and neither of them were at work on that day; no one was booked in or out on that day—on Sunday, April 9th, I was on duty from 7 a.m. until 6 p.m., and neither of them were at work on that day.
Cross-examined by Collins. I do not know anything about your time book—if a man were to work till 2 or 3 p.m., and then hang about till 8p.m., and come and book off, I should book him off as at that time; I should not know what work he had done—they have never come to me earlier than 5, and asked me to book them off at 5 or a later hour.
THOMAS WHITTY (23 K.) On May 3rd a warrant was granted for the arrest of the prisoners—on the evening of that day I, with Sergeant Hutton, arrested Collins and Lowe, who live in the same house, at East Ham—I read the warrant to them, and Collins said, "I heard about this yesterday"—while on the way to the station he said, "There is only two men who have brought me into a hole over this; that is, Moys and Cossey. This is all from doing the engineers' work"—when charged he said, They have
not got Mr. H. Berry. He took the time every Thursday morning"—on May 4th I went to East Ham and arrested Hoare—I read the warrant to him, and he said, "It is a bad job. I shall have to get out of it the best way I can"—he was taken to the station and charged, to which he made no reply.
Cross-examined by Collins. You did not say, "Only two men can explain this, Mr. Moys and Mr. Cossey"—I am employed on special duty at the Beckton Gasworks, and I live in a cottage at Beckton.
CHARLLES HUTTON (Detective-Sergeant K.) On May 3rd I went with Sergeant Whitty and arrested Collins and Lowe—I took Lowe into custody, and took him to the station—on the way he said, "The only money I received was what they called 'dirty money.' Collins paid me and Hoare. We signed a book when we went on and off, and another book when we had the money, which was only 2s. now and again. I did not know anything was wrong"—when charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined by Lowe. I am sure those are the words you used—I did not say to you, going along, "It is a very serious matter. I do not know anything of the case," in order to entice you to tell me what it was.
Evidence called by Collins.
ERNEST JOHN COSSEY . I am now assistant engineer at the Kensal Green Gasworks, in the employ of the company—I was assistant engineer at Beckton for about fourteen years and left last June—I should say you have been in the service of the company since April 1st, 1892—I always found you in your proper place—when I left Beckton I did not give any instructions to Mr. Moys about booking Hoare's time—Hoare was discharged through slackness of work and I took him on to the oil gas staff—he had been working on the painter's gang—I do not remember crossing out his time in your book and putting more—the reason why there is a red ink mark on January 8th and 15th, 1904, and my initials "E. J. C." is that there was Sunday overtime—there are twenty-four hours marked on the Sunday before January 8th which would mean twelve hours—they are my signatures—for the next week Hoare came in at 5.45 a.m. on the Saturday and left at 6 a.m. on the Sunday, and the difference of five and a half hours there would be time and a half for working all that time, and I initialled that to show it was correct—there is twenty-eight hours allowed as overtime—in January there is six hours written in red ink by myself—you generally came to me to know what time to book—I never heard you refuse to put any times in—the entries on April 22nd are in your handwriting—on the Sunday that Hoare was credited twenty-eight hours he had an hour for meal time, with which he is not credited—it is made up as follows: eighteen and three quarters hours was the ordinary overtime and he was allowed time and a half for that, which makes twenty-eight hours—I do not remember when you were put on weekly wage—it was done in my time, but I had nothing to do with it at all—I heard a lot of complaints from you about overtime—I do not know whether you lost through being on fixed wages.
Cross-examined by Hoare. I took you over from Mr. Smith—you were not discharged because there was anything against you.
Collins' statement before the Magistrate: "I did nothing to defraud or conspire. I only entered figures in one book, the rough time book—I have never entered in any other."
Collins, in his defence, said that it was customary to allow the men for more Work than they had done; that when Mr. Cossey was assistant engineer and when Hoare used sometimes to complain of his time he (Collins) would tell him that if Mr. Cossey sanctioned the extra hours and signed it in his book he would do the tame; that Mr. Cossey did sanction such extra hours, part of which would be extra allowance for dirty work; that when Mr. Mays came no instructions were given to him to alter the arrangements; that although Lowe and Hoare had not worked the overtime credited to them, it was only keeping up the old system which Mr. Iago as a new man did not know of; that not a man entered in the valvemen's time book had worked the whole time that was credited to him there; that he had no intention to defraud and had gained nothing by it; that according to the valveman, the valvemen's time book was never examined with his book; that he had been in the company's service for fifteen years and had had no allegation of this kind made against him before.
Lowe, in his defence, said that he was not guilty of any conspiracy to defraud; that his booking was entirely in the hands of Collins, and he had simply taken the money; that extra allowance had been made him for "dirty money" by Collins when occasion arose; that he had never given Collins any money; and that he never said that Collins paid him, but that he had received his money from Escreet, the pay clerk.
Hoare, in his defence, said that he said the same as Lowe; that he considered he had honestly earned the money, as he sometimes did Collins' work as well as his own; that when Mr. Cossey left he thought the same arrangement would be continued under Mr. Moys of allowing extra hours, and he thought it right that Collins should continue it.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the lax way in which the books of the company had been checked by the officials. Three months' hard labour each .
HARRY KNITHT . I am the licencee of the Approach Tavern, Approach Road, Victoria Park—at 5.30 p.m. on January 12th Park came in and put a florin on the counter, for which I gave him a glass of ale—I tested the coin with acid and it went black—I knew by that it was counterfeit—I asked him where he had sot it and he said, "I can get it changed in the morning where I work. Give it me back"—while talking to him
Evens came in and I served him with a glass of ale for which he paid me one penny—I had sent my potman for a policeman—Evans walked out quietly, leaving half his beer—I next saw him at Greenwich—the policeman let Park go—I went to the Greenwich Police Court on April 24th and picked out the prisoners from amongst other men as being in my house on January 12th—I gave the counterfeit florin to the police.
Cross-examined. On January 12th Evans was a perfect stranger to me—no one else was serving in the bar but myself—Evans came into the same compartment and a very few minutes afterwards he went away—my attention was fixed on Park—there was only one other customer in the bar besides the prisoners—I am almost sure that it was May 2nd when I identified Evans—I am sure it was on a Monday—I did not see him brought before the Magistrate as I left—I was first asked to come here on last Monday week.
Cross-examined. I was not at the Greenwich Police Court when Evans was there.
ALFRED GEORGE SAPWORTH . I keep the British Queen at Church Green, Greenwich—at 9 p.m. on April 22nd Park came in and called for a glass of ale, with which I served him—he tendered in payment this, bad florin (Produced)—I gave him 1s. 11d. change—I bit the coin and put it in the me chine and found it was bad—I put on my coat and followed, him outside—he left half his beer—he joined Evans, who was standing about twenty yards away—they then went to Greenwich Tunnel and got into the lift—I went down the stairs—I kept them in view the whole time—they went to the Princess of Wales—I went to the police station and returned with a sergeant and a constable to the public-house where I pointed out the prisoners—they were told they would be taken into custody for passing bad coin at the British Queen, to which, they made no reply—I was present when they were charged—on Evans was found £2 6s. 0 1/4 d. in good money—I think three new handkerchiefs were found on them.
Cross-examined. Men sometimes come in the public-house to, sell goods, but I have never seen one selling linen goods or handkerchiefs—I have been in the trade eight years.
Evans stated that he was guilty of uttering counterfeit coin to Sapworth, and the Jury returned a verdict of GUILTY . PARK, against whom a minor conviction was proved#x2014; Four months' hard labour. EVANS— Two months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
Fourth Court, June 1st, 1905.
501. THOMAS CHITTY (51) PLEADED GUILTY to, while being clerk and servant to the Mayor, Aldermen and Councillors of the Metropolitan Borough of Lewisham, wilfully and with intent to defraud, omitting and concurring in omitting certain material particulars from certain books and papers belonging to his employers. Other counts. Unlawfully making false entries in books and papers belonging to his employers.
He was given a good character. Six months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
Old Court, May 30th and 31st, and June 1st, 1905.
The Grand Jury having ignored the Bill, MR. J. P. GRAIN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MATHEWS, MR. BODKIN and MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted;
WILLIAM THOMAS HEAL . I am a painter, of 83, Westmacott Street, Camberwell—the prisoner is my son; he is a gas fitter, and has always lived at home with me and my wife and family; he had been keeping company with the deceased—she lived next door to us at Mrs. Bridgen's house, No. 81, for about a year and nine months—she was in employment during the day and most evenings went out with the prisoner—as far as I knew, they were on good terms—for about a fortnight or a month before April 27th the prisoner was out of work—on April 27th I went to bed at 9.30 p.m., having been up late the night before—I left in the kitchen my wife, the prisoner, the deceased and my two daughters—one of them is named Ellen—the prisoner and the deceased were on fairly good terms that evening—I was awakened about 11.30 by a screaming noise which came up over the stairs—someone was rushing up over the stairs and I observed the deceased rush into my room—I observed her form; it was light enough in the room for that—she spoke to me—the prisoner was not in the room—I could see the deceased was pressing a petticoat to her throat—I rushed out of the room—I thought I was in a dream and I thought I would go below—I could not see if the deceased was bleeding, because the only light came from across the street—I called out to my daughter to bring a light—I ran downstairs and saw the prisoner in the street facing the front door—we did not speak to each other then, I went to the kitchen and lit the gas—the rest of the family were upstairs—I lit the gas in the passage and saw a few blood spots—as I was going upstairs the deceased was about to come down—she came down from the kitchen and I saw she was bleeding from her mouth—I left her in charge of my wife and daughter, and went for a doctor—I returned in about ten minutes—the doctor followed me—on the way to the doctor's I saw a policeman and
sent him back to the house, and when I got back I found the deceased sitting on a chair in the kitchen and a constable and the prisoner there—I did not speak to either of them.
Cross-examined. I should say the prisoner had been in moderately good work—he only got out of work through slackness of trade—he was always willing to work and was a good workman—I made no objection to his keeping company with the deceased; I thought it best not to interfere—I was not asked if I objected—on April 27th, up to the time I went to bed, there was no quarrel among the party that I was aware of; we were talking on general matters of the day—I think the girl came to the house on the 26th—she generally stayed pretty late and I made objection to it—she stayed till 11 p.m. or later.
ELLEN HEAL . The prisoner is my son—in April he was living at home with me—I remember the deceased coming to the house with him on April 27th—the prisoner was in all the afternoon—about 5 p.m. I noticed he was strange—he was in his bedroom, and when I came in to tea I called him and asked him if he would have a cup of tea—he came into the kitchen and I thought he looked very different from usual—he seemed excited but I did not know that he had been drinking until afterwards—he was in the house for some time before 8 o'clock, when he went out leaving the deceased in the kitchen with me—he remained out for something more than an hour and then returned and found the girl in the kitchen—I remained there with them till I went to bed about 10, leaving in the kitchen the prisoner, the deceased, and my daughter Nellie—I went to bed and to sleep—I was awakened by a scream from downstairs and shortly after the deceased rushed into our room—she spoke to us—my husband or daughter lit a candle, I was so frightened I do not know which it was, and I saw that the deceased was holding some petticoats to her throat—I did not see that her throat was bleeding until I got downstairs to the front door—I was in my nightdress—the street door faces the stairs—I saw the prisoner standing on the mat—the door was open—I went into the kitchen; the deceased was there—the prisoner came in, and also a constable—I heard no conversation between the prisoner and the deceased—I was downstairs when my daughter picked up a knife, but I was taken up stairs, so did not see it—I remember saying to the prisoner, "What have you done it for?" but I remember very little—he was trembling all over and said, "I meant to do for myself as well"—I said, "What have you done it for?"—he said "Mother, she is not true to me"—the deceased was sitting in a chair; she could hear what he said—she was quite sensible and was holding things to her throat till the doctor came—as soon as the doctor came I went upstairs.
Cross-examined. It may have been 10.20 when I went to bed—I had been ill that day and had collapsed—you cannot hear loud talking in our room from the kitchen, but you can from the passage—we were sitting in the back kitchen that night—if there had been any loud talking in the passage, I could have heard it—I have heard loud talking in the passage when I have been in my bedroom—the prisoner did not drink until lately—he never went into public-houses before he met the deceased—
between 7 and 8 that night they were reading the paper—I was with them in the kitchen.
Re-examined. We first noticed that the prisoner began to drink last Christmas twelve months; that was the first time I saw him the worse for drink—he was then in employment—he did not drink as a habit, only now and again—between November and April 27th he was out of work for nine weeks—I do not know if he was drinking during that time—I know he worried a great deal from being out of work.
By the COURT. The deceased appeared to be well conducted, all I have seen of her.
ELLEN HEAL . I am the prisoner's sister—I was at home in the kitchen on the night of April 27th—I went to bed about 10.30—I left the prisoner and the deceased in the passage leading to the street door—I heard them open the door—I went to bed and to sleep—I had not been long asleep when I heard the deceased rush into my room—she spoke to me, and I got up and lighted a candle—I saw blood coming from her throat—some petticoats of mine were near her, and she took them up and put them to her throat—she went into my parents' room, and then downstairs—I also went down into the kitchen—the prisoner was there, and I remember the arrival of the constable within a short time—I found this knife open (Produced) near the street door in the passage; it was stained with blood, which I think was still wet—I took it into the kitchen and gave it to the constable—I had never seen it before—I did not know that the prisoner was in possession of a knife of that kind—when I handed it to the constable the deceased said, "Oh, Lord, he must have bought it yesterday to do the deed"—I do not remember the prisoner saying anything—the constable sent me to find the knife—the deceased saw me hand it to the constable—I went upstairs to look after my mother and saw no more of them that night—I know the prisoner's writing—this is in his writing: "Dear friends,—We are both tired of life and both agree to die together, as bad luck has stopped our marriage, which nobody knows about, but which ought to have been on Easter Monday. I have no signs of work; we will not try no more. It is no use of me looking for it; I have looked for it till I am tired. Nobody will employ me. I am honest to the last. God has forgiven me for the wrongs I have done; also my sweetheart, Nell Goodspeed. We both love each other, and this is our end. God have mercy on those who love each other like we do. This is our end. Good-bye all Don't worry about spilt milk; it can't be mended. Alfred Heal"—this other letter is also in his writing, but this envelope is not. [MR. HUMPHREYS submitted that this letter was not admissible, as it was written to the deceased by the prisoner from the prison where he was confined, five or six days after the occurrence, and there was no evidence that he was warned that any letter he wrote or statement he made might be used in evidence against him. The COURT ruled that the letter was admissible]: "Brixton Prison, 3.5.05. Dear Nell,—Just a few lines to you to let you know I am sorry for what I have done. Nell, it is all over last Sunday week night, when I took a liberty with you and found out you had a child. You told me all along you did not have one. I
did not know what to do when I found out. The police have found out as well. Nell, I will forgive you for that and what you have said. Nell, I will always stop by your side if you wish, or, if you don't want any more to do with me, will rest my mind content. Nell, don't press the charge for my sake, from Yours truly, I wish you better. A. Heal. Dear Nell, don't forget to answer this and come and see me."
ELLEN MARY BRIDGEN . I am the wife of Henry Bridgen and live at 81, Westmacott Street, next door to the Heals—the deceased had lodged with me for about two years and nine months—she was employed at Hyde's seed factory, and had been keeping company with the prisoner for about two years—before that she had been keeping company with a man named Wyndham Howes, who works with my husband at some mineral waterworks—on April 14th, about 9 p.m. I was in the Waterloo Arms, Waterloo Street, Camberwell—I saw the deceased there with her mother, her sister and Howes—I had a drink with Howes, and returned with him and the deceased to my house—after we had been there about ten minutes the prisoner called—I asked him to come in—we had a bit of a sing-song—the deceased was singing songs with Howes—we had no musical instrument—the prisoner was there while they were singing and joined in—he told the deceased to hold her tongue, she said, "I shan't. I am enjoying myself, and you can do the same, can't you?"—the singing went on for a little while and then the party broke up—the deceased went to the door with the prisoner—they seemed to be on good terms then, and on other occasions when I saw them, between then and the date of the death—I was at my house on April 27th—I saw the prisoner and the deceased standing at their street door about 10.20—I gave her the door key and I said I was going to bed—I left them together there—they seemed on friendly terms—about 11.90 I was waked up and went to No. 83—I went into the kitchen and saw the deceased, a policeman, and the prisoner—I said to the deceased, "What is the matter?"—she said, "Alf has out my throat"—I said to the prisoner, "What have you done?"—he said, "I have done it, Mrs. Bridgen. I intended to do her in and myself too"—she was twenty-four years old—the prisoner appeared to be in a trembling kind of condition, but not drunk.
ALFRED PAGE (461 P.) On the night of April 27th I saw Mr. Heal, and in consequence of what he told me I went to 83, Westmacott Street, Camberwell—in the kitchen I found the deceased on one chair and the prisoner on another—the deceased's throat was bleeding—she said, "My sweetheart has cut my throat"—the prisoner said, "I meant to do her in and myself too"—I cautioned him, and after a few minutes he said, "I bought a new knife for the purpose"—about that time Ellen Heal went into the passage and brought back this knife—she handed it to me—it was open and there was wet blood on it—I have kept it ever since—I took the prisoner to the station, where he was searched—this letter in pencil and this one in ink were found on him, and amongst other things this small pocket knife, and £2 4s. 8d. in money.
Cross-examined. I found no pencil on him.
at Hyde's seed factory—she had been there eleven years—her wages were 12s. or 14s. a week—this letter is in her writing (Read): "Dear Alfred,—A line to you, hoping that you are in the best health and temper than you have been lately. I will forgive you for all you have done and said, so please let it drop. I turn all over when you say anything about it, so try and forget you. I mean no more to say this time. With best love to you, I remain your true and faithful sweetheart, Nell."
[A number of crosses followed.] "Take these like pills, not razor, before going to bed."
Cross-examined. Some months ago I told the prisoner my daughter was a virgin because he asked me, and he said, "Mother, as you say so, I believe it"—after I told him that, they continued to keep company—I and my husband approved of their doing so—they always seemed to be very happy together.
WILLIAM CHARLES JOHN KEAS . I am the medical superintendent at the Camberwell Infirmary, and a registered medical practitioner—about 12.40 on the early morning of April 28th the deceased was admitted to the infirmary—I saw a wound in her throat which was rather more than half an inch wide, just above the thyroid bone, a little to the left of the middle line—it was bleeding very slightly, but it was evident to me that she had lost blood—she could speak, and made a statement—I gave her the best assistance I could, and for a couple of days she seemed to be going on well and save no anxiety—the wound was quite healed by the third day, April 30th, but on that day I observed signs of inflammation, and from that time fever developed—she remained seriously ill until May 7th—it was obvious to me that she was suffering from some deepseated inflammation of the brain and spinal cord—on the afternoon of May 7th I came to the conclusion that the case was hopeless, and I communicated with the police—she died at 9.25 that night—I made a postmortem examination within three hours—the cause of death was a wound passing slightly from left to right backwards and downwards through the base of the tongue to the back of the pharynx and esophagus—it opened the membranes in front of the spinal cord—the deep part of the wound was unhealthy—the inflammation had extended over the surface of the brain, resulting in inflammation of the membranes of the brain or meningitis—a comor supervened, during which the girl died.
Cross-examined. I found the deceased was a virgin—there was some chronic kidney disease, which would render the tissues more liable to inflammation and cause such a wound as she received to be more likely to take an unfavourable turn.
Re-examined. Probably in ten or fifteen years the kidney disease would have destroyed life—it was chronic, but the wound was the cause of death.
By the COURT. The wound was a very dangerous one; it became fatal because of the poison which set up inflammation; the kidney disease had nothing to do with the cause of death.
EDWARD BADCOCK (Inspector P.) On the morning of May 12th, at the Police Court, I told the prisoner I was going to charge him with the murder of Ellen Mary Goodspeed on May 7th—he replied, "All right"—the charge was read to him, and he replied, "Yes."
Cross-examined. I have made enquiries about him in the neighbourhood—he bears a good, all-round character, and is a quiet, inoffensive man.
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. A. HUTTON and MR. FITZGERALD Defended.
LEONTINE EMMA GRINTER . I am the wife of John Grinter, and live at 7, Parker's Row, on the first floor—the prisoner and his wife lived on the ground floor—on Saturday, April 23rd, we went to bed about 10.35 p.m.—we had been in bed a little while when we heard a cry of "Murder," but we did not take any notice of it, as we thought it proceeded from the back—it must have been about 11 p.m.—we went to sleep again—the next thing was the deceased coming and knocking at our door—I asked my husband to get up—he did so, and opened the door, and the deceased rushed in in her nightdress, and her hair was hanging down her back—she said, "Mrs. Grinter, look what my husband has done"—I did not see the prisoner then—the deceased's face was red at the side and inflamed, and there was a stain towards the back of her nightdress—she made a complaint to me—I got up and said I would get her some water to bathe her face with, and when I got to the other room the prisoner came to the door with a basin of water—he said, "Lil, let me bathe your face"—she replied, "I will have nothing to do with you, you beast and murderer"—I bathed her face; she showed me her tongue, which was very much swollen—she had to go downstairs for her clothes, and she asked me to go down with her—I stayed on the stairs for some time—I did not at first care about going into their bedroom—she did not go in; she got someone from the street to go in with her—I believe it was Mrs. Fenton and Mrs. Bennett—they went in with her, and I walked in after—her clothes were brought from the bedroom into the kitchen; there is only a wooden partition between—the deceased dressed in the kitchen; the bedroom door was open while she was dressing—she kept closing it and the prisoner kept asking to have it open, and he kept calling her to come back and not to show him up—she was calling him a murderer and different thing—
she said, "He is all right when there is anybody about"—he kept saying, "Do not show me up, for the sake of my brother and your children at school"—she said, "You did not think of that before—while she was dressing she said, "It is not the first time he has tried it on; I have had my suspicions for some time"—she said he had tried it before with lead in the bed, and she had slept under the stairs, and no one in the house knew anything of it—I asked her if he was drunk—she said, "Not when he came in"—he did not appear to me to have been drinking—I said to her, "Have not you been living happily?"—she said, "No, we have never been happy, not since we were married"—she finished dressing and I asked her where she was going—she said to her brother's—she left about 12 o'clock—she put a cloth round her mouth as she said it hurted her—Mrs. Fenton and Mrs. Bennett left the house with her—I never saw her again—on the Monday morning I found this letter in the little place at the bottom of the stairs where we usually put our letters (Read): "Mr. and Mrs. Grinter,—I must beg of you to forgive me the annoyance I have caused you It was a mad trick to do, and has a serious ending up to now. My wife is in hospital. She forgave me. It will be a turning-point to both our lives for the better, I hope. I have had a lot to put up with, and I daresay she thinks she has had a lot to put up with, but I hope all that is past now. Please don't mention the affair to the neighbours, as it would do me a great deal of harm, and her, £00, as I am determined to make her life as happy as I can. I write this, as I think it is better than intruding, up to your door, and I feel you are entitled to some apology from the annoyance. I shall be greatly obliged if you will try and forget it. Yours respectfully, W. Lucas. If Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale were disturbed I tender an apology to them. Also please destroy this letter"—Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale live on the top floor.
Cross-examined. Our bedroom looks out on to the yard—I thought the noise we heard came from the back—when the prisoner brought the water for his wife he appeared to be doing all he could for her—he seemed to be quiet and calm—I did not think then that she was seriously injured—there is a window on the staircase outside our room, the deceased opened it; she and I stood on the stairs by the window—I did not feel the cold; she was also four or five minutes at the door—I should not think that half an hour elapsed from the time she first came to my room, until she put on her clothes—I should think it was about half an hour from the time she knocked at my door until she went away—she was not long putting on her things; she went away immediately she was dressed—from the time she knocked at my door till she put on her things she was in her nightdress—the prisoner was in his bedroom while the deceased was dressing—I heard him talking and asking her to come back to him, and not to show him up, but I did not see him—I have been in the house since July—I have never noticed any unpleasantness between them before; I thought they lived perfectly happy—she never came into my place, and I never went into theirs—I thought he treated her very well, but I did not see much of them.
Re-examined. I see her when I was doing my stairs on Saturday
mornings; the prisoner was not there then—I have seen them go out once or twice together, but I have not seen them in the room together—she came to my room about 11.30 and left the house about 12.
By the COURT. We did not take any notice of the cry of "Murder" because it was just before Bank Holiday, and we thought they had started early.
JANE FENTON . I am the wife of Robert Fenton, of 83, East Lane, Bermondsey—on Saturday, April 22nd, I was in Parker's Row shortly after 11 p.m., when I saw the deceased, who was a stranger to me, in her nightdress at the door of No. 7—Mrs. Bennett was with me—I went over and spoke to the deceased, and in consequence of what she said I went into the house, and into the kitchen—the deceased came in after me, and I asked her where her clothes were—I then went into the bedroom, where the prisoner was in bed—I said to him, "Excuse me, guv'nor, I want your wife's clothes"—he never said anything; he only looked at me—I looked for the clothes, but at first could not make out where they were, and I asked the deceased—I afterwards found some of them and took them into the kitchen—she put on what I had brought—she kept on saying to the prisoner, "You beast," and he said, "Lil, darling, don't be silly; think of the children"—she said, "It is not the first time he has tried it with lead in the bed"—she said he came home, and she cooked a plaice and they sat down, and he kept asking her to go to bed; that when she was in bed he asked her to have some whisky and she refused—when this conversation was going on the prisoner was in the bedroom, and the deceased in the kitchen—she kept on pushing the door to, and he kept on opening it—I should think he could hear what she said—the deceased was standing by the table in the centre of the kitchen—she said she went to sleep, that she woke up and found him pouring some stuff down her throat—when she had dressed herself she took a bottle from a cupboard, and poured some whisky into a cup; she put it to her mouth, sipped it and screamed out, "Oh!" as if it hurt her—I said, "Is it poison?"—she did not ask me to taste it—I took it up, tasted it and said, "It is all right"—it was whisky—I went out with her, but when Mrs. Bennett reminded me of my children I left her.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Bennett did not taste the whisky—the deceased did not seem suspicious about it—I was quite alone when I first went into the house—as I got in I could just see that the prisoner was in bed—I do not know how many times the bedroom door was opened and shut; it was more than once—I should not think that the deceased did not want the prisoner to know what she was saying; she spoke in rather a high tone in a temper—when he opened the door she did not cease speaking—he appeared to be very loving to her; she seemed cross—when I first went in I did not think there was anything serious the matter with her; I thought it was a family quarrel—the prisoner did not seem to mind my being there or talking to her—he said he was sorry to put me to such inconvenience.
Re-examined. The deceased's mouth was a bit red.
Fenton in Parker's Row—I noticed a woman standing in her nightdress at the door of No. 7—Mrs. Fenton went in while I waited across the road for about twenty minutes, when I went in—I noticed Mrs. Grinter standing on the staircase—I went to the kitchen door and saw the deceased standing in the kitchen, dressing—she did not speak then, but Mrs. Grinter did—I saw the prisoner in bed, the door being open—he could hear what the deceased and Mrs. Grinter was saying—Mrs. Grinter said to the deceased. "Is he drunk?"—the deceased said, "He is so artful, I don't think so"—she said he came home at 9 o'clock, that she got some plaice for supper, and they sat down together and had supper, that he kept on asking her to go to bed, which at last the did; that before she went to sleep he asked her if she would have a drop of whisky; that she had said she did not want any, and went to sleep, and that she woke up with him pouring something down her throat—during the rest of the time that I was there she kept on calling him, "You beast, you murderer"—he said, "Don't be silly, Lil, darling"—she said he worked from morning till night, and earned good money, and that he stinted her to the last farthing—I noticed that her lips were swollen—Mrs. Fenton and I waited until she was dressed, when we all came out together, and then parted.
Cross-examined. The kitchen parlour and bedroom appeared to be well-furnished and comfortable, and did not have the appearance of being stinted—during the whole of the conversation the prisoner appeared to be kindly disposed to the deceased—Mrs. Fenton was in the room the whole time I was there—she kept on going into the bedroom, and there might have been a word which she did not hear—Mrs. Grinter was on the staircase just outside the room the whole time—I did not taste the whisky.
THOMAS HENRY EDWARDS . I live at 32, Sillwood Street, Rotherhithe, about a mile and a half from Parker's Row—I am a removal contractor, and the deceased was my sister—she was about thirty-five years of age, and had been married to the prisoner about nine years—about 1 a.m. on Sunday, April 23rd, I was disturbed—I went to the window and saw my sister in the street—I let her in—she had a cloth to her mouth—before I let her in she hollaaed up to me, "Come down, Tom, and see what Will has done"—when I let her in I did not see what she was suffering from—my wife attended to her—about 2 p.m. the same day I went to Guy's Hospital, where I found her in bed—I then went to seek the prisoner—I found him about 2.50—I said, "Bill, do you know Lil is in the hospital?"—he said, "Go on, is she?"—I said, "Yes, Lil would like to see you; come with me to the hospital"—he seemed very much surprised and came straight away with me—on the way I said, "Will, how do you account for it?"—he said, "Tom, I asked your sister to have a drop of whisky and she said, I do not want your whisky; give it to your f—mother. I said, If you won't have a drop of whisky, have a smell of this,' and as I put the bottle to her nose she knocked it up and some got spilt"—I went with him to the hospital and to my sister's bedside—I saw him kiss and shake hands with her—I did not hear what was said—I stayed about twenty minutes, but as I could not hear what was said I bade them both good-bye and left—I got this letter on the
Monday morning—it is written by the prisoner (Read): "Dear Edie and Tom,—I called round to-night at about a quarter past 8 and knocked twice, but, getting no answer, thought perhaps that you had gone to bed early. I came round to thank you, Edie, for looking after Lil. She forgives me, and I am longing for her to be out again. I will endeavour to make her life happier some way or other. I have written to her to-night. Next visiting day is Wednesday, 3 to 4 p.m., when I hope to see a great improvement in her. Yours very sorrowfully, Will"—this other letter is also written by him—I saw my sister on April 24th, but the nurse told me not to speak to her.
Cross-examined. The prisoner and the deceased appeared to be friendly at the hospital—the deceased asked me to fetch her husband—I have been to their house—I have always found them on friendly terms—I always thought they were living on perfectly happy terms.
Re-examined. I had seen nay sister a week or two before this happened—the prisoner came to my house nearly every Sunday, but not with her—she came, but I very seldom saw her.
EDITH EDWARDS . I am the wife of Thomas Edwards, and reside with him—before April 23rd I had not seen much of the deceased—on the 20th she came about 8 p.m. and I next saw her about 1 a.m. on the 23rd—she was very faint and very badly burnt and her lips were very much swollen—she appeared to be in pain, and she complained that she thought she was going to choke—I took her straight to Dr. Atkinson's—I saw his assistant, Dr. Orr, who told me to take her to Guy's, which I did in a paper-cart—we got there about 1.45.
JAMES MORRISON ORR . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 38, Bulah Grove, West Croydon—on the early morning of April 23rd I was at 211 Lower Road, Rotherhithe, acting as assistant to Dr. Atkinson, when the last witness and the deceased came in—I examined the deceased as far as I could—she told me what had happened—she had an excoriated face and the inside of her mouth and tongue were in the same condition—I sent her to Guy's hospital—what I saw of her corresponded with what she told me had happened.
By the Jury. I found no signs of ammonia on her hands but I did not examine them or her chest.
ARNOLD LEEMING . I am a registered medical practitioner and clinical assistant at Guy's Hospital—I was in charge there on the early morning of April 23rd when the deceased was brought in—I admitted her at 3.15—she was put to bed—she was suffering from a large excoriated patch on the left cheek—her lips and tongue and the inner side of her mouth and uvula were excoriated and inflamed—on examination of her chest I found no sign of pulmonary disease and no other signs of disease whatever—I examined her for a pulmonary disease because I thought the inhalation of an irritant vapour might have caused bronchitis to appear, and about 10.30 a.m. bronchitis developed—the results which I saw accorded with the statement made by the deceased, and I formed the opinion that the excoriation was produced by the application of ammonia on a cloth to the left side of her face—I do not think that if a bottle had been held
to her nose for a moment and was then dashed away by her, some of the ammonia falling on her cheek, it would have caused the injuries I saw, because the patch of excoriation was distinctly circumscribed and localized—there were no signs of the fluid having run down the neck from the face—there was no trickling or dropping—the mark covered the left side of the chin and the left cheek, extending up as high as the cheek bone—it was limited by the margin of the lower jaw—there was no distinct line on the side of the mouth—the whole of the lips were excoriated—the mouth and tongue being excoriated would indicate that whatever had caused it had been taken into the throat in the form of liquid or vapour—if vapour had been applied for a sufficient length of time to the uvula and tongue it would nave caused the excoriation—I do not think the time would be sufficient if the bottle was simply held for a moment to the mouth or nose—the conditions I saw are consistent with a cloth steeped with ammonia being placed over the mouth and cheek—I do not think ammonia would leave any excoriation when spilt on the skin if it is at once wiped off—the deceased was taken from my care by Dr. Hertz the next day.
Cross-examined. I had an opportunity of seeing another case of ammonia burning about a over night later and another in the same week—in one case it was application of ammonia to the face and in the other it was the result of spilling some liniment containing strong ammonia—the burn on the face was caused by the vapour—the sores I saw in the deceased's mouth may have been caused by vapour—if some ammonia had been spilled on the cheek and then a cloth or shirt had been dabbed upon it and allowed to remain there a few seconds, that might have caused the excoriation, and if the cloth or shirt had become soaked I think it world have produced the sores in the mouth through the vapour—I was not present at the post-mortem examination—I did not find the lips cut or bruised, or the teeth injured—I saw nothing to indicate that the neck of a bottle had been forced into her mouth beyond the fact of the sores from the vapour or some ammonia being in the mouth.
Re-examined. I think that if ammonia had been spilt upon her face and then wiped up with a shirt and left on the face it would produce the excoriations I saw, but not if it was wiped away in the ordinary way.
By the COURT. I should say that it would be necessary for the cloth to be left there for at least ten seconds, a longer time than it would take usually to wipe off.
ARTHUR FREDERICK HERTZ . I am a registered medical practitioner and house physician at Guy's Hospital—I saw the deceased about 10.30 a.m. on April 23rd—I examined her and found she was suffering from excoriations on the side of her face and round her mouth; I did not see any on her hands—she was then suffering from incipient symptoms of bronchitis—she got worse—I saw her in the evening when there were signs of early pneumonia in part of the right lung—on the 24th she was considerably worse and the signs of pneumonia had developed further, and it appeared as if the pneumonia was beginning to develop on the left side as well—I considered her condition then to be critical and that she was quite likely
to die, so I sent for the police, as they had not been informed—a Magistrate attended—I was not attending the deceased when she died—I saw her again in the evening, but I handed the case over to Dr. Ticehurst, as I was doing his work—I saw the excoriations in the interior of the deceased's mouth on the uvula and fauces—the condition was consistent with the application of something steeped with ammonia to her mouth and the inhalation of it—I have heard Dr. Leeming's evidence, which I agree with—I think it would be quite impossible to cause the internal injuries by simply holding a bottle to the deceased's nose or mouth—you would have to hold it there for some time; it is impossible to say for how many seconds, but simply holding the bottle to the nose would not produce the inflammation of the fauces—if she had pushed it away at once it would not have been sufficient to cause the inflammation—it must have been forcibly held—the cause of the pneumonia, in my opinion, was the inhalation of ammonia vapour—pneumonia is inflammation of the lungs, and it can be caused by inhalation of an irritant vapour and, in my opinion, it was so caused in this case—my reason for saying that is because we know that she had ammonia over her face and a few hours later pneumonia came on, and at the post-mortem examination it was shown that it was much more likely to be caused by the fumes, than the ordinary pneumonia people get from cold or anything of that sort—there was a continuous inflammation all the way down the air passages.
Cross-examined. This is the first case I have seen of pneumonia coming from ammonia vapour—I heard the deceased had been standing at the open door in her nightgown for five or six minutes; that is likely to give cold and may develop into pneumonia—if some ammonia had been spilt on to her face and a cloth or shirt had been dabbed on her face, that would have caused excoriation, but it did not seem to me to be likely, because if it was simply spilt over her face there would be no pool or ammonia, as it were, which could be mopped up in that way—I have never seen ammonia spilt on a person which has been dabbed up in that way—if you held ammonia in your hands in a pool it may cause excoriation—assuming there is ammonia on the back of your hand, and you dabbed it up, I do not think it would cause excoriation, because I do not think the cloth would become soaked; I suppose it is possible, but you would have to be particularly careless in which way you did it and almost trying to produce excoriation—ammonia spilt on some people's faces might produce excoriation, but I cannot believe there would be sufficient ammonia soaked up in a cloth in that way to make it sufficiently moist to produce fumes which could go into the mouth, but if the cloth was soaked it is possible that the vapour would have caused the sores I saw—exposure may lay the foundation for pneumonia, but I do not think excitement would have anything to do with it.
Re-examined. There are cases on record where the inhalation of fumes have developed into pneumonia—assuming ammonia is spilt on the skin, there is no difficulty in wiping it up if you want to; it is done hundreds of times—assuming that there was pneumonia spilt on the deceased's face, I do not think that there was sufficient if it was wiped off with a shirt to apply it to her mouth and cause these injuries.
GEORGE AUGUSTUS TICEHURST . I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital, and a registered medical practitioner—I saw the deceased for the first time on Tuesday, April 25th, about midday—I considered her to be in a critical condition—her breathing was laboured, shallow and rapid; she died early the following morning—I made a post-mortem examination—the description given of the external excoriation is correct—internally I found intense inflammation at the back of the mouth, in the throat, windpipe, small tubes in the lungs, and the lungs themselves—there was what is called a forced membrane at the back of the throat, indicating that there had been great inflammation; it is possible that those conditions were caused by fumes of ammonia—I have heard it suggested that they were caused by wiping ammonia, which had been spilt on the woman's face off with a shirt, and apparently her inhaling the fumes from the cloth that was used, but it would depend on how long was occupied with wiping the ammonia away—the time ordinarily occupied in wiping liquid from the face I do not consider would be sufficient—I agree that the condition might be caused by the application to the face of a cloth steeped in ammonia—the cause of death was pneumonia, which can be caused by inhaling fumes of ammonia.
Cross-examined. There was no trace of ammonia having reached the stomach—the inhalation is a matter of seconds which would be required to cause the sores, but it is difficult to say how many—ammonia is of different strengths—this has not been tested; there was none available.
By the COURT. Ammonia is one of the chief ingredients of the smelling salts which people have for colds.
GEORGE GODLEY (Inspector M.) About 1 a.m. on Tuesday, April 25th, I went to Parker's Row, Dockhead—the prisoner came in about 1.5—I said, "What is your name?"—he said, "Lucas"—I said, "I am an inspector of police. I am going to take you into custody for attempting to murder your wife"—he said, "You do not say that, sir. I asked her to have a drop of whisky. She said 'I do not want your whisky; give it to your f—mother.' It riled me, and I said, 'If you won't have whisky have a smell of this. I took an ammonia bottle off the mantelpiece and put it under her nose. Some must have spilt on her face. I had no idea that it burnt as it apparently has. When I saw her in the hospital her face appeared burned. It was a very silly action, done in temper; I won't say that I was sober at the time; I had been drinking whisky. I am very very sorry." He pointed to this bottle (Produced) standing on the mantelshelf and said, "I found this bottle on the bed in the morning, and I washed it out in the wash basin." He also said, "I was taking off my shirt at the time. She screamed out; I put my shirt over her mouth and said, 'Shut up your mouth.' I think that must have made it worse." His left index finger was in a bandage, there were ten scratches on his face with red scabs just forming on them—he said, "She bit my finger and scratched my face."
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been employed by some Army contractors in Tooley Street—he has been there over twelve months, and bears a very good character,
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that his wife went to bed about 11; that he then went into the room; that he asked her to have a drop of whisky; that she said she did not want it, and used an abusive remark about his mother; that he was a bit staggered by it and said, "If you won't have a drop of whisky hare a smell of this" and he took a glass bottle off the mantelpiece containing ammonia; that he did not know that it burned if it spilled; that she was lying on her right side, and he put the bottle under her nose; that she caught his hand in her left; that he could not say what she did, but she caused the bottle to tilt up, and some ammonia went on her face; that she screamed out; that he thought she was being burned, and caught hold of her hand and said, "Shut up, Lil," to pacify her; that she scratched his face and bit his finger; that he wiped the ammonia off her face with his shirt, which he had taken off; that he had had just enough drink to make him unsteady, but was not drunk; that she asked him to get her some water, which he did, and she washed her hand in it, but would not use it for her face, saying it was dirty; that he had not attempted to pour ammonia down her throat; that he was surprised that she had gone to the hospital; that when he saw her then she patted his head, as she could not kiss him, her head being bandaged; that they had always lived happily together; that the only explanation of the lead being found in the bed was that he was putting two hooks in the wooden frame work, and was using a piece of lead for a hammer when he was called away, and left the lead on the mattress; and that he had never attempted to do any harm to his wife in any way. He received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
New Court, May 30th, 1905.
MR. BODKIN and MR. HARROLD MORRIS Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended Deller.
ALBERT BROWN (844 W.) I was on duty in Eardley Road, Streatham, on Saturday, May 6th, at 11.30 p.m.—I saw Deller and another man saying good-night to some friends at the corner of Besley Street and Eardley Road—Deller and the other man passed Hill's wardrobe shop on the other side of the road to me, and then came back and looked into the window—as the light went down in the shop the other man tried to take a dress off a hook, but could not—Deller went back and succeeded, then walked to the wall, and tried to put the dress at the back of his coat—when he saw me he dropped the dress and ran—in about a dozen paces I caught him, the other man having run away—when I caught Deller he said, "You have got the wrong bloke this time," and then turned round and tripped me up—the other man turned, kicked me in the head, and ran away again—Deller wrenched himself away from me and gave me a blow in my eye with his fist—I caught him again, when Young came up and hit me on the back of my neck, and caught me behind my
ear with his fist, and I fell with Deller to the ground, still holding him—while I was on the ground Young kicked me in the ribs—I took my whistle out, but someone knocked it out of my mouth, then someone blew it, whom I found to be a young woman—I saw her—the whistle was hanging by the chain—the result of the whistle blowing was that Lagne came up and took Deller in charge—I was then bleeding from the head, and was lame and exhausted—I was seen by a doctor and ordered on the sick list—I am still on the sick list—I am sure Deller kicked me on the head, because nobody else was then present—I am quite sure Young kicked me in the ribs.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. The shop was lit inside, but not outside—four or five men were there together—I was standing right opposite the shop, and in uniform—the street is about thirty yards wide—a crowd came up some seconds afterwards—the street is a fairly busy one—some of the shops had closed, but some were open.
THOMAS MOORE (Detective W.) I arrested Young about 5.20 a.m.—I told him I should take him into custody for assaulting Police Constable Albert Brown while he was taking Deller into custody—he said, "Yes, I know it is all right, but are you not going to take the others? There are three of them in the bar who did as I did," pointing towards the Railway Tavern in the Greyhound Lane. "They lacked the police constable, so you might as well take them. I suppose that I will have company to-night; it is not right that Riley should go away by himself. Hall pinched the dress, and threw it to Riley and Nobbs, and Warren kicked the policeman"—Riley is Deller.
MABEL MARY HAWKINS . I live at 1a, Leverson Street, Streatham, not far from Eardley Road—our street runs out of it—on Saturday, May 6th, about 11.30 p.m., I was standing at our shop door when I saw the policeman take hold of a man who threw him to the ground just across the road, and about the length of this Court—I crossed the road—three or four others had come up then, and were treating the policeman very roughly—the policeman blew his whistle once—then I blew it for him and assistance came.
ARTHUR GOLDS . I am a butcher, of 108, Eardley Road, Streatham—I was in my shop on Saturday, May 6th, about 11.30 p.m.—I heard a police whistle—I ran into the road—I saw a crowd and the policeman struggling with Deller—a man struck the constable—then Deller got loose—the constable recaptured him—both fell to the ground—after that I saw another man come and kick the constable—I went to him and said, "Stop that game; that won't do."
Cross-examined by Young. I could not see your face.
Re-examined. It was a bit dark.
ERNEST LAGNE (74 W.) I was on duty on May 6th, when I heard a police whistle, and went to the spot the sound came from—I saw a large crowd—I found the constable, who was bleeding from the head, struggling with Deller—I took him to the station—he was quiet all the way.
had a scalp wound on the left side of his head, just above and two inches behind the ear, about 7 inches long and extending to the bone—there was no injury to the bone—it required two stitches—it was jagged and such as would have been inflicted by some hard substance, such as the head coming against the kerb or a very heavy body—a kick could have done it—in addition, there was a slight bruising of the left eye, and he complained of a pain on the right rib—there was no obvious mark on him, but I found a little bruising subsequently—I ordered him on the sick list—he was evidently a good deal shaken and very exhausted, as if he had generally had a rough time of it—he has been on the sick list since on account of symptoms of shock—he has complained of severe headache—I cannot say definitely as to the ultimate result—he is suffering from shock to the nervous system, and insomnia—there has been a good deal of tenderness over the head, which might suggest injury and which might cause confusion of some sort to the brain—there is no other evidence of development, but one cannot always know—he has been three weeks under my care, and the staff surgeon has advised his being sent to a convalescent home, and that is where we shall have to send him.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. As far as I can judge, there is no permanent injury, but one can never tell—an attack of that sort very often has very nasty consequences.
Deller, in his defence on oath, said that the man Hall took the dress and threw it on his shoulder and he threw it down in front of the constable, who took hold of him, but that he never did anything to the constable.
Witness for Deller.
ANNIE LOVELL . I live at 161, Eardley Road, Streetham, which is a baker's shop, opposite this wardrobe shop—I was in the shop and saw the dress taken—nobody here took it—two other men were with Deller—one of the men took the dress and threw it at Deller, who picked it up, I think—the policeman ran over the road and took Deller—I went in.
Cross-examined. Deller did not put it behind his coat—while he was picking it up he was arrested.
Young's defence: "I am not guilty. I have not done anything. I am not guilty of kicking the constable. I never touched him at all.
GUILTY . Eighteen months' hard labour each. The COURT awarded the witness Hawkins £5 in addition to her remuneration as a witness, for her courageous assistance to the police, and service to the public.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, June 1st, 1905.
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.
GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner was well known in his neighbourhood as a man of low character. Eighteen months' hard labour.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
Fourth Court, May 30th, 1905.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JUNE 26TH, 1905.