CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
NINTH SESSION, HELD JUNE 26TH, 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, June 26th, 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 JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart; Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL-PHILLIPS, Bart, G.C.I.E; Sir JAMES THOMSON RITCHIE , Bart, Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., and HOWARD CARLILE MORRIS, Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City, and LUMLEY SMITH Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court, His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
POUND, MAYOR. NINTH 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, June 26th, 1906.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(510.) THOMAS STANISLAUS MAXWELL (33) to embezzling £30 15s. and £100, the moneys of George Taverner Mills and others, his masters; also to embezzling £25 15s. and that sum in money, the property of George Taverner Mills and others, his masters; also to embezzling £50 and £1 10s., the property of George Taverner Mills and others, his masters. It was stated that the prisoner's total defalcations amounted to £4,141. He received an excellent character. Fifteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(511.) JOHN ALEXANDER MEIKLE (18) to stealing six cheque forms, the property of P. B. Burgoyne & Co., Ltd., his masters. He received a good character. Six months' imprisonment in the Second Division. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(512.) JAMES HANCOCK (25) to forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of £5, with intent to defraud; also to forging an authority for the payment of £5, with intent to defraud. One month's imprisonment in the Second Division. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(513.) JESSE STEPHEN RICHARD RAGGETT (33) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing an order for the payment of 2s. 6d, the property of the Postmaster General . Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(514.) WILLIAM THOMAS JOHN HANSTEAD (22) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a postal packet containing an order for the payment of 21s., the property of the Postmaster General . Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(515). WILLIAM JOHN THORNTON (27) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing two gold rings, the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, June 26th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
516. JOHN BODKIN (35) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a portmanteau and other articles, the property of Anthony Anstell Delmege, his master; also to forging and uttering a request for the payment of £10 in a deposit account of the Post Office Savings Bank, with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a receipt for £10, with intent to defraud. He received a good character. Twelve months' hard labour. —
(517.) GEORGE SARGEANT (22) and HENRY FEAR (27) to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of George Jay and stealing therein a locket and chain and other articles, his property, having been convicted at the Guildhall on April 7th, 1900, Sargeant in the name of Frank Thomas, and Fear in the name of Frank Watts . Six previous convictions were proved against each. Seven years' penal servitude, and three years' police supervision each. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(518.) LUIGI ENGLIELMI (24) to maliciously wounding Attilio Botti . He was stated to be of excellent behaviour when not in drink. Twelve months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(519.) ALFRED NELSON (23) to uttering counterfeit coin twice on the same day, well knowing the same to be counterfeit. Five previous convictions were proved against him. He was stated to be an associate of known thieves and utterers. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WILKSON Prosecuted.
LOUISA WALLACE . I keep a general shop at 19, Field Road, Fulham—between 8 and 8.30 p.m. on June 8th Wilde came into the shop and asked for a packet of Woodbine cigarettes—I gave one to him and he gave me a half-crown in payment, for which I gave him two separate shillings and 5d. bronze change—he then left the shop—I was not quite sure whether it was a good coin, so I weighed it and found it of very short weight—I took it into my father in the shop parlour, and in consequence of what he said I went after Wilde—I knew him before by sight up and down the street—he had only been in my shop once previously to this—I found him at 6, Hatfield Street, near Field Road, where he lives—I said, "Will you give me the change back? This is a bad half-crown"—I had brought the coin with me—he took it out of my hand and said that it was not his, but it belonged to a young man in the crowd which was standing on the opposite side of the road—this conversation took place in the street—Wilde then went up to the crowd, taking the half-crown, and said, "Floyd, give me the change back; this is a bad half-crown"—Floyd said, "You won't have the change, because you have got the half-crown"—Wilde then gave me back the half-crown and said, "Floyd will not give the change back"—I did not know Floyd—I said to him, "You will not give me the change?"—he said, "No"—I said, "Then I will fetch a Wiseman and have you locked up," to which he said nothing—I went
back to my father with the half-crown, which I afterwards handed to the constable—I have not received back the 2s. 5d. or any part of it,.
Cross-examined by Floyd. I did not see you when I spoke to you.
By the COURT. I knew I was speaking to Floyd, because I heard Wilde say to him, "Floyd, give me that change back," but I did not see him.
THOMAS MARTIN . I am a coal hawker, of 43, Field Road, Fulham—between 8 and 8.30 p.m. on June 8th I was in Hatfield Street with two men named Codge and Busby and the prisoners—I asked Floyd to lend me 6d. and he did so—he then showed me half-a-crown and told me it was bad—this is it (Produced)—Codge and Busby also saw it—as Codge was handing it me back Wilde snatched it from between our hands—I cannot recollect his saying anything—he ran away with it and returned a few minutes afterwards—he asked Floyd for a shilling—I cannot remember the exact words he used—he made no reference to what had taken place before, nor did he say why he wanted the shilling—I do not know whether Floyd gave him a shilling—I do not know whether Floyd ever got it back again before Wilde snatched it or not.
Cross-examined by Floyd. When you handed me the half-crown I said it was bad—I do not know what you said then.
By the COURT. I cannot say whether Floyd ever got the coin back before Wilde snatched it—Floyd showed me it; I passed it to Codge and he was handing it back to me when Wilde snatched it.
Cross-examined by Wilde. I think you asked Floyd for a shilling.
JOHN CODGE . I am a tailor, of 49, Field Road, Fulham—on the evening of June 8th I was in Hatfield Street with Martin, one or two other men, and the prisoners—Floyd handed a half-crown to Martin, saying it was bad—it was passed round and as it was coming into my hands it was snatched by Wilde, who ran away, saying he was going away to change it—I did not hear Floyd say anything on that—I saw Wilde come back and give Floyd the change—I did not see the money—Wilde said he had bought a pennyworth of chocolate cream—he asked Floyd for a penny—I did not see Floyd give him anything.
LEONARD HAMMANT (701 T.) On the evening of June 8th Louisa Wallace made a communication to me, in consequence of which I called at 43, Field Road, Fulham, where I arrested Floyd—I told him the charge on which I arrested him, that of passing counterfeit coin to Louisa Wallace—he said, "I knew it was bad, but he (meaning Wilde) snatched it out of Codge's hand and went and changed it. I had 2s. 5d. change and he had the cigarettes"—I then took him to Wilde's house, 6, Hatfield Street—on charging Wilde he said, in Floyd's presence, "Floyd was showing the half-crown and saying, "What a good made one for a bad one.' He then gave it to me to get a packet of Woodbines. I went to Wallace's and got a packet, and came back to Floyd and gave him the cigarettes and change. He gave me back the cigarettes, but kept the change"—on being searched, on Floyd was found 1s. 6d. in silver and Is. bronze, and on Wilde 1/2 d. bronze and three Woodbine cigarettes—they were taken to the station and charged; they made no reply—this is the coin I received from Wallace (Produced), which I marked at the time.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—this half-crown is bad; it is a very good imitation—the mould from which it has been taken was of a half-crown which had been very much in circulation.
The COURT. intimated to Floyd that he need not address the Jury.
Wilde. "I did not know it was bad."
The COURT. directed the Jury to find a verdict of NOT GUILTY against Floyd. Wilde NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 11th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham:
MR. COLTMAN Prosecuted; MR. ELLIOTT and MR. FITCH Defended.
CHARLES MALCOLM HENRY SWAN . I am a solicitor, practising at 20, South Moulton Street—I have known the prisoner for some years as a daughter of a client of mine, and for three or four years I have known her well—she called upon me for some information in reference to some office she wanted to go to at the Royal Courts—she said she was with a Countess, but I could never get from her the relationship; she considered herself to be an adopted daughter—the Countess's name is Galve; I think she is a Russian—the prisoner called upon me again—I do not know the date; that was in relation to some business—the Countess became a client of mine and I was consulted upon various matters—the Countess from time to time borrowed small sums of money from me which at first were repaid—she went away three times, leaving the prisoner here—the first occasion was in 1902—she made no arrangement as to the support of the prisoner while she was away—on account of the prisoner having no money, I supplied her with funds, and when the Countess returned to England she repaid me the money—the same thing happened in the following year, but not to any great extent—in 1904 she again went away, leaving the prisoner unprovided for, and I made considerable advances then—I think the Countess left in August and I continued to make advances until April last—I had written to the Countess, pointing out the position the prisoner was placed in, and pressing that she should forward funds—I think she sent one £5 note to the prisoner—my friendship with the prisoner became closer, and ultimately became intimate—I gave the prisoner to understand a long time ago that the relationship should end, but I brought it more to a head in the latter part of April in a conversation—on April 22nd I wrote to her, telling her to keep away from the office, and after that day I gave instructions at the office with regard to her, and told my clerks that I could not advance any more money to her, and could not see her if she called—I had had some discussions with my wife with regard to Miss Doughty; they were hardly differences—on April 22nd I wrote: "Keep away from the office to-day for goodness'
sake. I enclose P.O. for 10&"—on the following Tuesday she came to the office while my wife was there and had a conversation, and I told the prisoner I should not be able to do anything more with regard to advancing moneys, and that therefore it would be useless for her to call at the office any more—I had for some time warned her when I found the amount was getting too large—after the interview she left, but there was no unpleasantness—on Friday, April 28th, I met my son at the top of South Moulton Street—as he came to me I saw the prisoner standing a few yards off in a doorway—my son was speaking to me; I forget what he said, and as he was speaking the prisoner came up and asked me what I had been saying to my son—she also said to my son, "What has your father told you?" or words to that effect—he said, "That is my business"—she immediately pulled a revolver out of her pocket and fired at him—he was standing by her side, facing her; they were close together—he stepped back and I saw nothing more of him—I think she fired again, but I am not quite sure—she aimed the revolver at me and fired, and I was struck in the chest on the right side—I rushed forward and seized her hand with the revolver in it, pressing her hand down—at that time somebody was seizing her from behind, and just at that moment the revolver went off again, the bullet striking me in the leg, and I fell—I cannot say if another shot was fired when I was on the ground; I do not know how many shots were fired altogether—I cannot recognise the revolver—I was removed to the hospital and operated upon the same day—I was discharged from the hospital three weeks ago yesterday—my leg was then in a plaster of Paris casement, as it is now, and will have to be for another three weeks.
Cross-examined. I believe the prisoner was extremely fond of me—I did not expect anybody to do me an injury, more particularly the prisoner—I do not know if a letter was found on her—A statement by the prisoner, dated April 27th, was then read): "I have been in my heart a good woman, but Fate has always followed me up relentlessly. I have never willingly harmed a creature, and I seldom pass a beggar even if it is my last copper, and I have been so happy lately, but, as I told my husband, I was afraid of this Easter"—I do not know if she referred to me as her husband—when she wrote to me she addressed me as "Dear Mr. Swan"; when in the office she called me "Mr. Swan" or one of my Christian names—"as Fate always gave me then an unexpected disaster, and he said he would be extra nice with me when it was over"—she said Easter always seemed to be an unlucky time for her, I had not said I would be extra nice to her—I did not comfort her; I daresay I said, "Don't be so full of fancies"—"I never dreamed the blow would come from him. I knew him from young, and always thought he was a nice, kind man; he was in 1901 and 1902. I had strange expressions and was practically friendless, and he helped me with business all he could"—I did help her in business—"When he made advances to me I reminded him he had a wife to be thought of. He took in, hand and told me it was worse than having none; he only had not had a separation for the sake of the children, but they slept in different parts of the house, and were not on speaking terms, only compulsory.
I thought what a dreadful woman she must be for such a kind man. I gave him my sympathy, and in return was glad of someone to tell my troubles to, but I insisted on keeping the friendship platonic. He was kindness and patience itself. He took me out or waited any time for me "—I have been to the theatre with her and to, lunches—"and then when I was left alone by a lady who had promised to make me rich and do everything for (but as I found afterwards she only did this to make me borrow thousands altogether for her), and then left me in the lurch when payment became due. He then saw that I was provided for, and at last I came to lean on him for every little thing"—I do not know if she came to lean on me, and that I was practically her only support, but I did what I could—I saw her father a few weeks ago—"and also I gave into him partly out of gratitude"—I presume she yielded to me—I had connection with her—"We have been man and we 3 since. I regarded him as my husband, and I was his little wife, and he gave me his confidence, which was withheld in his house?, and in time I grew very fond of him, which has deepened and deepened. I know he loved me. He has told me it was his only happiness when we were out together. He has made tea for me every evening unless we had tea out, and nursed me afterwards in his arm-chair, and only last Tuesday, the 18th, he gave up a Masonic dinner to dine with me"—I believe we were on terms of the greatest intimacy, and that she was very much attached to me—"I told him to dine with his friends, but he said he would much rather with his little girl, and we would have an extra one, and we were so happy that evening. He has always sworn I was his only wife in the true sense of the word. I know he loved me, or he could not have done all he has, and he always gave the strongest proofs of his love and affection. He told me always about the hell Mrs. Swan led in his house, etc. He has always seemed afraid of her, and yet after all the love he had shown me I had not a doubt he would stand by me for ever, when Mrs. Swan, who I have heard has often made a fuss about me and him, either watched or discovered we were together Thursday evening"—my wife did not find us in the office together—my wife had known for some time that I was very friendly with the prisoner—there was unpleasantness, but I do not admit everything in this statement—"his manliness seemed to desert him. Ho had told me he had given the clerk a holiday last Saturday that I might spend the day entirely with him. Yet he not only disparages me to her, but says he will renounce me. This after he has taught me to love him, and I know he was so fond of me. He did not mean it, though, for he wrote me a letter to help him and keep away for a day or two. I did not get that letter in time and went to the office. I was surprised to see the son there, but when my husband came in he asked me to kiss him, which I did. He told me he had sent the letter with money and I had better go, when Mrs. Swan rushed in. And when she said how he had disparaged me I was broken-hearted, although he denied it"—my wife came in while the prisoner was there, and told the prisoner that I had said something disparaging—that did not seem to upset her—my wife rather exaggerated what I had said, and I modified it—"I went away sticking
up for him, but how I suffered! In reply to a note he said he would try and see me, and then somehow they prevailed on him to renounce me. I do not know whether he meant it or was only pretending, but I could neither eat nor sleep, and was half mad. I could not get to see him alone, and at last was so strung that I told her all in short. He was the only person I had left to love, and whose own love I was so sure of. He had just been arranging to do such a lot of things for my future, and has now not only to give me up but has left me destitute after paying everything for me, and all this came on me so suddenly and unexpectedly. I know I am mad and broken-hearted; I am going to meet my Master. I have heard she is leading him a worse his than ever, and going to spoil his prospects and his uncle"—I think that refers to an uncle of mine—"I think I will rid him of her before I go, and as he has treated another man's daughter so will it fall on his own. I have often had something in me urging me to do things contrary to commonsense. Now I have something urging, urging, urging what to do, yet Another voice is saying, "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay. Yet I know the other force will conquer; it always does. I have only been so long because my strength gives out. I have had no physical strength for five or six years. This dose not seem legible, but I cannot write otherwise now. He loved me and taught me to love him, and has made such promises. I have thought I have suffered before, but never like this; but it will soon be over. When I was about fifteen a man said to me he could wish I had not those eyes; they were more likely to be a curse than a blessing. I could not then understand, but now I know he was right. I have tried so hard always to be a good woman, but there is always fate, fate, fate. This time I will go and see who or what it is. I had destroyed all the letters he wrote me to "My dear Florence,' etc."—Florence is her Christian name, and years ago I wrote like that—" before going abroad. I did this entirely for his sake, and afterwards he thought it safer to write otherwise, as any letters were so often seen. In those letters he said he would make me as happy as he wished, etc."—on the Tuesday when she called she did not seem to be upset, by the way she spoke to my wife—when she was alone with me she seemed to be perfectly calm and seemed to be doing what she could to lower me in the eyes of my wife—she tried to make the breach wider—I think she asked to see me alone—on April 28th I do not think she asked to see me alone—she evidently had not heard what I had said to my son—I was not conscious then that she was anxious to have an interview with me alone—I was anxious that the acquaintance should come to an end—I do not know if she was equally anxious to see me—I do not think that she had given me the slightest indication that she acquiesced in giving me up—I think on the Tuesday I told her that after what she had said to my wife I should not have any more to do with her, and I heard no more of her till the Friday morning—when she first fired at me nobody had seized her—at the second shot either I or somebody else had seized her—I cannot say for certain whether when the second shot was fired I had hold of her hand or not—it is impossible for me to say if the other person or myself grasping her interrex with the guidance
of the pistol; it may have done—I did not see any shot fired while I was lying on the ground—I have heard that shots were fired while I was on the ground, and that one went across Oxford Street and another hit a lady.
Re-examined. The prisoner was looking at me at the time the second shot was fired.
LEONARD CHARLES SWAN . I am the son of the list witness and am employed by him as a clerk at 20, South Moulton Street—on April 28th I saw the prisoner near the office—I spoke to her and then went out to meet my father—I met him in South Moulton Street—the prisoner walked up to us and said to me, "Has your father said anything to you?"—I said, "That is my business," and she pulled out a revolver and fired at me twice—one of the shots hit me in the left side of my chest—I was removed to the hospital, but was too ill to be operated upon then—I was discharged from the hospital on May 17th.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that the prisoner was in a very excited state—it was in consequence of her excitement that I went to meet my father.
By the COURT. I do not know of any business between my father and the prisoner.
WALTER FLOWERS . I live at 68, Christchurch Street, Chelsea, and am a chauffeur—on April 28th, about 11 a.m., I was in South Moulton Street—I saw the prisoner with the last two witnesses—I saw her take her hand from her coat pocket and point a revolver at the elder Mr. Swan—she fired two shots at him and one at his son, who was about eight yards away—she fired five shots altogether—a lad ran up from behind and seized her by the arms, but all the shots had been fired before he held her—the prisoner's back was to me—she held the revolver by both hands.
Cross-examined. As she fired the revolver dropped—I said before the Magistrate, "As she fired her hands went down and the shots went low; shot, seemed to fire towards the ground."
HARRY MARKS . I live at 122, Earl Street, Edgeware Road, and am a grocer's porter—on April 28th I was in South Moulton Street about 11 a.m.—as I crossed the road I heard a shot fired; I rushed up and saw the prisoner fire another one at Mr. Swan—I tried to take her arms down by her side—Mr. Swan was struggling with her and fell down—as he did so she fired another shot—I was then holding her—she fired four shots altogether—I or someone else knocked the revolver out of her hand—the revolver was pointed at Mr. Swan.
ARTHUR WILCOX (208 C.) I was in South Moulton Street on April 28th, about 11 a.m., at the corner of Oxford Street—I saw the two Swans standing in front of the prisoner, the son about five yards away from his father—the prisoner had a revolver in her right hand; I saw two shots fired, but I cannot say at whom; I was about twenty-five yards away—I saw Mr. Swan fall; he was on the Oxford Street side of the prisoner—the shots were fired in the direction of Oxford Street, and in the direction of Mr. Swan—I rushed up and knocked the revolver out of her hand; it was picked up and handed to me—this (Produced) is it; I handed it over to Protective Clarke.
Cross-examined. I said before that she teemed a little excited and looked dazed.
ALFRED COLLINS (243 C.) On April 26th I was on duty in South Moulton Street about 11 a.m. and heard a revolver shot—I saw some people running, and I ran too—I first saw Mr. Swan, senior, lying on his left side, on the footway—a private person came to me and said, "I have picked this revolver up on the ground; it was knocked out of this woman's hand"—that was the prisoner, who was standing on the kerb about two yards away—I went up to her and took her into custody—I took her to the station in a cab, where she was searched.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner standing there—she was not very much excited.
EDWARD DREW (Inspector C.) About noon on April 28th the prisoner was brought to Marlborough Street police station by Collins—when I saw her she had been attended to by the divisional surgeon—I went to the Middlesex hospital and found the two Swans, both wounded—I returned to the station and saw the prisoner, and told her she would be charged with shooting at these two gentlemen and also with attempting to commit suicide—she made no reply—she was then charged and made no reply.
ARTHUR CLARKE (Sergeant C.) I was present at the Marlborough Street Police Court on April 28th when the prisoner was brought in—Wilcox handed me this revolver; it had in it six cartridges, five of them spent, and one which had not been fired—I extracted them (Produced)—I also received some letters found upon the prisoner (Produced) and three cartridges which have not been fired found upon the prisoner at the time she was searched—I went with Inspector Drew to 5, Bryanston Street, and found a letter on the prisoner's table.
Cross-examined. I found this letter beginning, "Dear Mrs. Gough,—Forgive me if I gave you trouble; if there were more women in the world like you it would be happier. You have outlaid a few thing for me this week. I am past thinking of arranging further; take what you like from my wardrobe"—Mrs. Gough was the prisoner's housekeeper.
ANNIE DANN . I am a female searcher at the Marlborough Street Police Court—on April 28th I searched the prisoner and found upon her three loaded cartridges, a packet of correspondence, two purses, a pair of gloves, two handkerchiefs, a knife and a key—I gave the cartridges to Sergeant Clarke—in the correspondence there was a gun licence—the prisoner said she was sorry that she had shot the prosecutor; that she did not mean to kill him, but she meant to kill herself.
Cross-examined. I said to her, "How do you feel?"—she said, "Well in body, but troubled in mind"—that was after Dr. Edmunds had treated her for laudanum.
PERCY JAMES EDMUNDS . I reside at 5, Great Marlborough Street, and am surgeon to the "C" Division of police—on April 28th, about 11.20 a.m., I was called to Marlborough Street Police Court and saw the prisoner—two bottles were shown to me, both of them marked laudanum, one
holding one dram and the other two (Produced); they both smelt of laudanum—there was also a third Phil marked camphorated chloroform which also smelt of that drug (Produced); it has some in it now—I was told the prisoner had been seen to swallow something from these bottles, and she stated that she had—there were no medical symptoms at the moment of laudanum poisoning, but in view of the probability of the case it was necessary to treat her—she did not wish to be treated and said, "What is the good?" but I insisted upon washing the stomach out with Condy's fluid and water several times—her mental condition was not sufficiently definite to swear to—I should not like to express an opinion as to whether she was mentally sound or not—she was a little excited.
Crass-examined. Before the Magistrate I said, "I should doubt her mental condition; at that time she was in a slightly strung condition and agitated"—I have not sufficient experience of her to really form a definite opinion—I think it is for the Jury to say whether she is of sound mind or not rather than a medical man—I do not think she had any real disease of the brain, but for all I can say she might have been mentally unstrung, although, I do not think so.
Re-examined. It would be a common thing for a perfectly sane person to be excited after what had happened that morning.
SIDNEY SMITH . On April 28th I was house surgeon at the Middlesex Hospital when Mi. Swan and his son were brought in—Mr. Swan, senior, was suffering from two bullet wounds, one in his chest and one in his leg—on examining him 1 found the wound in his chest was between the fourth and fifth ribs, and these was an abrasion in his right armpit and a bruise on the inner side of his right arm; there was no point of exit of the bullet—he had a wound on the inner side of his right leg, about two inches below the knee—there was no point of exit of the bullet found there—he was examined with the X-rays, and shadows of both bullets were seen—the wound in the leg was very much shattered as well as the bone—he was operated upon about 4 o'clock that afternoon and a bullet was removed from his side about half an inch below the skin—it must have struck a rib and run round—that bullet was not fractured at all—his leg was operated upon and portions of a bullet and portions of the bone were removed—the leg was broken—he made a practically uninterrupted recovery, and was discharged from the hospital on June 5th with his leg in a plaster splint, in which it is now—the younger Swan was more seriously injured and was in a state of collapse.
Cross-examined. Both the gentlemen are now on the road to recovery—these are the bullets.
CALUD EDWARD HARRISON . I am one of the partners of the firm of Cogs well & Harrison, Ltd., 141, New Bond Street, gun makers—on April 54th the prisoner came into the shop and asked to see some revolvers—she said she was going to America and wanted it for her own protection——I said it would be necessary to comply with the Act and to have a license, and next day she returned and gave me the money to get a license and waited while it was being procured—this (Produced) is the revolver—she also bought fifty cartridges similar to this (Produced)—she paid £3
for the revolver and asked where she could try it—I said she could try it at a range, and that she was not to do so within fifty feet of the highway—she came a third time and obtained a ticket to have some practice at our range at Victoria—she seemed quite calm and rational; I should not have sold her the revolver otherwise.
REGINALD ROBERT KELLAND . I live at 29a, Gillingham Street, Pimlico, and am an instructor at Messrs. Cogswell & Harrison's range at Victoria—on April 27th the prisoner came, bringing a revolver and cartridges, and had a shooting lesson for about forty-five minutes, firing twenty to twenty-five shots—first of all I placed her at about twenty yards and she was firing at a four-inch bull—she asked me if it would be more deadly at a closer range, and of course I said it would—this (Produced) is the revolver; the recoil from it is considerable for a lady—the tendency would be, when it is fired, for it to come up, so I think I told her to aim a little low.
Cross-examined. I never knew a gun or revolver which did not go up when it was fired.
GEORGE BATHO GRIFFITHS . I am the medical officer of Holloway prison, and have had the prisoner under my observation since May 1st; she came in on April 28th—when I first saw her, her condition was described to me as being exactly the same as when she came in—she was depressed and dazed, and her general bodily condition was bad—she was very excitable and refused food—she said she wanted to die, and when the time came for her to go to the Police Court she was not in a fit state—I fed her on several occasions, and she has got a good deal better in general condition—I cannot say if at the time of this occurrence she was insane, but I do not think she is insane now—it would be natural for her to be in an excited condition under the events which have been related.
Cross-examined. Having regard to the condition I saw her in I should be doubtful as to her mental condition a few days prior to my seeing her—I should not say definitely that she was of sound mind then—she was wild and haggard looking, and appeared as if she had had very little food or rest—she had the appearance of a person who had gone through great anxiety, and her mental condition was extremely unstable—she refused food for a long time and I had to feed her with a tube—she seemed to be in a condition of great despair and said it was no good taking any more trouble, and her life was over—I did not form any opinion as to what effect life in prison would have upon her—I think she is now in a condition in which extreme care is desirable.
Re-examined. It is extremely doubtful if she was ever insane, and I cannot say definitely.
GUILTY. of wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Seven years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, June 27th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
having been convicted of felony on April 22nd, 1902, at the North London Sessions. He was stated to be an associate of foreign thieves. He had 284 days still to serve. Eighteen months, hard labour. —
(523.) WILLIAM THOMPSON (28) to stealing seven nickel plated suture cases, the goods of Charles Trentham Maw and others; also to stealing six dozen towels, the goods of William Dangerfield , having been convicted of felony at the North London Sessions on February 8th, 1902, in the name of Henry Weham. A number of previous convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(524.) JOSEPH ROSE (54) to assaulting Charles Henry Ballard with intent to resist his lawful apprehension, and causing him grievous bodily harm; also to attempting to break and enter the shop of Alice Emily Maude, with intent to steal therein. A large number of previous convictions were proved against him, commencing in 1861. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(525.) HENRY WILLIAM DESBURY (52) to maliciously damaging part of a shop window belonging to James Ernest Arnold, to the amount of £8, in the night time. Eight previous convictions of a similar nature were proved against him. Six months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(526.) JOHN JONES (34) to feloniously causing grievous bodily harm to George Farnham, a Metropolitan police constable, with intent to prevent his lawful apprehension. Seven previous convictions of assault were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
JOSEPH GEORGE STEVENS . I am a clerk in the Secretary's Office of the General Post Office—in consequence of information that had come to my knowledge I made inquiries as to the non-delivery of letters that had passed through the St. John's Wood Office—I made up a packet identical in shape and size to this (Produced) and addressed it to "Mr. J. Hamilton, care of Mrs. Bush, 21, Townsend Road, St. John's Wood, N.W.'*—I put in it one sovereign, one half-sovereign, one half-crown, two separate shillings, a sixpence, and two penny stamps—this is the sixpence that I put in (Produced)—I marked it with a die "S.R.," and before I put it in the packet I noticed it was a bent one as this one is—it was also discoloured, but the discoloration has disappeared with friction—I posted the packet at 3.30 p.m. at the General Post Office, and in the ordinary course it would arrive at the St. John's Wood Post Office just before 8.30 p.m., where the prisoner's duties were—about 11 p.m. the same day I was shown this sixpence—on June 16th I saw the prisoner at the Post Office, Clifton Road, Maida Vale—after telling him who I was I said, "Last night you took out for delivery a packet addressed to Mr. J. Hamilton, care of Mrs. Bush, 21, Townsend Road, St. John's Wood, N.W. You did not deliver it. Have you any explanation to offer?"—he said, "I beg to state that before going out on my
delivery I put the packet in my bag. The bag has a hole in it, I lost the packet. I looked for it in the Townsend Road, but could not find it I went back along the road and looked for it"—I then said, "After completing your delivery you went to your father's house and from there to the Ordnance Arms, where you changed this sixpence," and I produced this sixpence to him, and said, "I identify this coin as one which I enclosed yesterday in the packet I addressed to Mr. Hamilton. The packet contained coins to the value of £1 15s. and two penny stamps, and they all bear my private mark"—he said, "I went there and changed a sixpence. I never had the other money. I am willing to be searched, and my house as well. I lost the packet"—I said, "You were seen to change this sixpence, and it was placed in the cash register. No other sixpence was placed in the register before it was examined, and after the one you changed was placed there"—he said, "The sixpence I changed was mine. You can search me and my house"—I gave instructtions that the prisoner's bag should be taken from his house, and later in the day I saw him at the General Post Office, and, showing him the bag, said, "When you went to the address of the packet after you had finished your delivery, you said you had lost the packet through the hole in this bag. Had it been there long?"—he said, "Yes, some time; my keys wore it, "meaning the keys he took out—I said, "You knew it was there when you say you put the packet in?"—he said, "Yes, but I did not think it was big enough to let anything through"—this packet was at the time in the corner of the bag, and I said, "There is a packet in the bag now. Would that drop through the hole?"—he said, "No, it is too large"—I said, "It is identical in shape and size with the one you had last night"—he said, "I thought that was smaller"—the hole was not nearly large enough to let the packet through.
WILLIAM JOHN VIOLET . I am an overseer at the Eastern Central District Post Office—I remember clearing a packet out of the letter box of the General Post Office—I placed it in the bag for dispatch at 7.10 p.m. for the delivery at St. John's Wood Road Post Office—I saw the bag off—the packet was delivered that night.
GEORGE MARTIN . I am an overseer at the St. John's Wood Post Office—the prisoner was on duty there on June 15th ac 7.15 p.m., and it was part of his duty to clear the letters for the 8.30 delivery—I had received certain instructions about a packet, similar to this (Produced), addressed to 21, Townsend Road, which was expected—it arrived at the office about 8.2 p.m., and I put it down at the prisoner's seat among some other letters for him to deliver—I kept my eye on him till he went out on his round—when he went out I noticed he had the package in his hand, not in his bag.
RICHARD WALTER DAVIS . I am an assistant in the Confidential Inquiry Branch of the General Post Office—I received certain instructions as to the prisoner, in consequence of which on June 15th, in the evening, I kept him under observation—at 8.40 p.m. I saw him leave the St. John's Wood Post Office for his delivery—in his right hand he carried the test packet—at St. John's Wood Terrace he paused, looked at the packet, and
placed it in his inside pocket—shortly afterwards he began his delivery, and I saw him again at 9.45 p.m., when he went to his parents, home; at 10.25 p.m. he left there and went to the Ordnance Arms, where I saw him put on the counter the marked sixpence which was contained in the test packet and which I recognised as soon as I saw it—I did not lose sight of him until he had passed 21, Townsend Road, where he did not deliver the packet—I recognised the sixpence, as it was bent end disc louder—I acquainted Mr. Steven of what I had seen, and he instructed Roberts to make a search in the till.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I could see the sixpence from where I stood; I could see right into the other bar—there is a partition between the bar you were standing in and mine, coming only nine inches over the counter, and then there is an opening—I was not four or five feet from you.
By the COURT. I could see quite distinctly what coin the prisoner put down.
WILLIAM ROBERTS (313 A.) I am attached to the General Post Office—in consequence of instructions received I kept the prisoner under observation on this evening, and saw him go to the Ordnance Arms, and then saw him leave again—after he left I examined the cash register in which I found this sixpence, which is marked "S. R."—I identified it, as I knew the mark—I was with Davis, and I know where he was standing in the public-house, and I also know the bar in which the prisoner was standing—Davis could see from one bar to the other—the counter is twenty inches wide, and the partition comes over nine inches of it, which leaves eleven inches for anybody to look over—I found the sixpence ten minutes after the prisoner had paid it.
Cross-examined. I saw no one else change a sixpence while you were there—I saw people go into the house, but I do not know what they changed.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that on reaching St. John's Wood Terrace he put the packet in his bag; that on reaching 21, Townsend Road, he felt for it, and found it had gone; that he looked up Townsend Road and St. John's Wood Terrace, but failed to find it; that on finishing his round he went to Mrs. Bush, and enquired for the gentleman to whom it was addressed, whom he found to be out; that he made an arrangement to call the next evening, when he would tell him what had happened; and that he changed a sixpence in the Ordnance Arms, but it was not the sixpence in the test packet.
By the COURT. I have a complete record of every coin I have marked during the last eighteen years—the date of this sixpence is 1893—I should say it was the last one I marked—it is the only 1893 sixpence I have ever marked—I should say it was four months before this since I marked another sixpence "S. R."
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
528. ARTHUR EDWARD GREEN (30) , Stealing seven gross and eight dozen paint brushes, the property of Rudolph Boecker, his master; and WALTER BENJAMIN (21) , Feloniously receiving the said property, well knowing it to have been stolen.
MR. GUY STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM BULLARD (Detective, City.) At 1.15 p.m. on June 15th I was in Edward Place, when I saw Benjamin walking up and down—I thought he acted suspiciously—I saw him sit on the steps of several doorways, with a newspaper in his hand—he then walked to the top of Edward Place by Aldersgate Street and appeared to be as if he were watching to see if any person came out—he walked up by Jewin Street and waited there for a few minutes, and then walked back, passing No. 11, which is the shop of Mr. Boecker, a brush importer—all of a sudden he darted into the doorway of No. 11, and came out with a large parcel not half a minute afterwards—I followed him through Edward Place into Jewin Street—he then went from Jewin Street into Australian Avenue, and from there into Barbican, thence into Aldersgate Street, going a distance of 800 yards when he could have got into Aldersgate in about fifty yards—I thought that was rather funny—I followed him to the trams by Goswell Road, where he got on to a tram—I did the same and said to him, "I am a police officer. What have you got in that parcel?" he said, "Paint brushes, sir"—I said, "Where did you get them from?"—he said, "I got them from 11, Edward Place"—I said, "Have you an invoice for them?"—he replied, "I have an invoice"—I said, "For this?"—he said, "No, for a parcel I received yesterday from the same place"—I said, "Does the gentleman there know that you have these things?"—he said, "Yes, he gave them to me. I very often have goods from him"—he then produced an invoice which is signed, "A. W. Green, Cash, "and it is apparently on Mr. Boecker's billhead and made out to Mr. W. Taylor, being for a list of goods at various prices amounting altogether to £1 13s. (Produced)—he made a rambling statement as to the day of the invoice and I said to him, "Your answer does not seem very satisfactory to me; I shall have to take you back to 11, Edward Place"—he said, "Very good, sir, I will come"—I took him back to Edward Place, where we went into No. 11—I said to him, "Which is the man who let you have these goods?" and he pointed out Green, a clerk in the employment of Mr. Boecker—I said to Green, "What about this parcel?"—he said, "That is all right; I let him have them"—I said, "Is it all right? What about the invoice?"—he said, "I am going to forward the invoice later on, because I am busy"—I said, "Is this with your master's knowledge?" and he said, "Well, the guv'nor is away now having lunch"—I said, "But as regards these things, does he know that you let him have these?"—he said, "Well, I do let anybody have goods when they come in in the absence of the master, also the manager"—I said, "Does he know that he has had these, or that this man deals here?"—he said, "Yes, he knows he deals here. I will go and fetch the master"—I said, "About how long will he be?"—he said,
"About an hour"—I said. "Well, I can wait; I have got plenty of time, I do not think you had better go"—he afterwards made an excuse that he wanted to take a letter to post—I said, "You must not go away; you must wait and give an answer as regards the goods"—I said to Benjamin, "What is in the parcel?"—Green was going to give me the information when I said, "No, I want this man to tell me what is in the parcel"—Benjamin said, "I do not know what is in the parcel"—I said, "Do you usually have a parcel of goods and you do not know what is in it?"—he said, "Well, I asked him to let me have a parcel of about £2"—I said, "Do not you know the number or the quantity of the goods?"—he said, "No, I only know they are paint brushes"—I then waited for Mr. Boecker—in the presence of the prisoners when he arrived he said that Green had no authority whatever to let this man have the goods, and also that he did not know Benjamin—I took them both into custody, and took them to the station—they were charged with stealing and receiving these brushes, to which they made no answer—when searched,. on Benjamin, amongst a number of other papers, were found these four invoices (Produced)—one of them is made out to "A. E. Green"—he said he traded under the name of "William Taylor"—in Green's drawer where he was employed was found this blank book of invoices, which can be bought off a stall—there is no name on them (Produced)—these are three of Mr. Boecker's invoices (Produced).
Cross-examined by Green. You pleaded for your master not to press the charge, but he left it in our hands—since you have been on remand I swear I did not tell Mr. Boecker that I could compel him to press the charge under a penalty, on his saying he did not wish to do so—you mentioned that you had not got the price of one line—the reason you gave for not making out an invoice was that you had not the time.
Cross-examined by Benjamin. You never said anything to me why you were waiting about; you did not tell me that you had to meet a man there to take and see some goods, and that that was why you went round Barbican way.
RUDOLPH BOECKER . I am a brush importer, of 11, Edward Place, Alders-gate Street—Green has been in my employ for three years as a book-keeper and invoice clerk—these seven gross and eight dozen paint brushes found in the parcel are mine, and their value is £3 1s.—Green had no authority to part with them without making an entry—on that particular day there was no invoice given to Benjamin, nor is there any entry in the books—I had not been paid for them—I do not know any firm of Taylor, nor have I to my knowledge been dealing with a firm of that name—on looking at these invoices I see two of them purport to be sales of goods to Mr. Taylor on my billheads in Green's handwriting—no entries appear of those in my books as being bona fide transactions—if people of Benjamin's class wanted any parcel, they would have to pay for them as they took them away, and my manager would enter them as petty cash sales—Green would not make those entries as a rule—when he sold the goods it would be his duty to mention the matter to the head clerk—there is no entry in the petty cash book of a sale to Benjamin—the invoice made out by Green for £3 9s.
from which he deducted 20 per cent., which he was not entitled to do, says at the bottom, "Received on account, 20s.,"but there is no record of any 20s. received—I cannot say whether the other invoice is correct or other-wise; the amount is £2 1s. 6d., and the items are mentioned; it does not purport to be receipted.
Cross-examined by Green. At 3.30 p.m. this day Bullard met me at the door, and told me I was being robbed—then we went in and saw you and Benjamin—I said to you, "You have no business to give a man like this any goods without my authority"—I cannot recollect whether you said that Benjamin was going to pay for them on the Saturday; I was so excited at being robbed—it is true that I did not want to press the charge against you, but the detective told me it was a very clear charge, and I must go on, which, of course, was quite right—the next morning your wife and brother came to me and told me if I did not wish to press the charge, the matter could be withdrawn—I at once agreed to do so if it were possible, and I went with them to the police station, but I was told that the matter had gone forward, and that it was beyond my province to interfere, and I should have to appear at the Guildhall, which I did.
By the COURT. Bullard was not watching by my instructions—£1 13s. was afterwards handed to me by Green; he was supposed to have received it from Benjamin on the Wednesday or Thursday morning, and in due course he ought to have handed that 'over to my manager, which he did not do—there is a receipted invoice found in his drawer for that amount, signed, "Cash, A. Green."
Cross-examined by Benjamin. I do not remember your face, and I can only say that if you meant to deal honestly with me you would know that I was the responsible party, and you would not always come in at the dinner hour because you would know I was out, the only people in the premises being Green and my porter downstairs—Mr. Lock, my manager, does not know that you have been to my place—at some date in 1903 there is an item in my books of 9s. under the name of Taylor; since then no entry has appeared—according to the entry of November 18th, which was made out by Green in his name, which is quite an unusual proceeding, you have paid Green 20s.
By the COURT. Green had no authority to make out invoices for my goods as if they were his, such as "Bought of Mr. A. E. Green."
Green, in his defence, said that on the Tuesday preceding this he let Benjamin have £1 13s. worth of goods, the cash for which he received the next day; that he put it in the desk, but, owing to being so busy, had not had time to pay it to the manager; that he often had money in his desk which he had received but had not paid over at once, but some little time afterwards; that he let Benjamin have another parcel of goods on the Thursday to the value of £3 11s., that he had made up ready when he came for them, for which Benjamin was going to pay on the Saturday when he had sold them; that he pleaded guilty to stealing the other quantities which were not mentioned in the indictment, and for which bills had been produced, not receipted; that he had paid over the £1 13s. received from Benjamin, and intended paying Over the £3 11s. when he received it
Benjamin, in his defence, said that when receiving the goods he did not know they were stolen; that Green said he would send on the invoice for the £3 11s. worth of goods; and that he still owed Mr. Boecker £2. GUILTY. The prosecutor wished to recommend Green to mercy. One month hard labour each .
MR. PASMORE Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
WALTER EVANS . I am a cycle maker—on June 13th, about 10.30 p.m., I was in Rosoman Street, Clerkenwell—I had just locked my shop up and walked across the road and stood against the wall to see if my light was properly out—while standing there the prisoner came up and pulled at my watch, breaking it off the chain—I pulled it back out of his hand, and he put his hand in another of my pockets, and said, "What have you got here?"—I pushed him away when he went down to the ground—he got up and punched me on the chest, and I punched him back again the best I could—nobody came to my assistance; there were not many people about—we as good as had a fight, and I said, "Hold up," and went across the road—he followed me, and would not let me go—he was alone—this is my watch (Produced) with the broken part of the chain—I have known him about the place with other fellows—I have never spoken to him—he is all right when he is sober, but when he is drunk he gets quarrel-some—I think he was drunk on this night—I was not much hurt.
Cross-examined. He came over and caught me in a drunken sort of way—I cannot swear whether he intended to steal my watch, or whether it was only a drunken spree—it is a pretty bright street and people were about—there was a man standing close to us, but he was frightened to come up as a witness—this is not a busy street on a holiday time; it was Whit-Tuesday evening—the fight only lasted a few minutes and we separated—as he was coming back at me again the policeman came up—he did not come back and ask me what I had been fighting for—I told the policeman the prisoner came at me and tried to take my watch—nothing was taken from me by him—I have never had a drink with him.
JOSEPH AUSTIN (224 C.) At 10.30 p.m. on June 13th I was in the neighbourhood of Rosoman Street, when the prosecutor said to me, "Jack Heatley has stolen my watch"—I said, "Where is he?" and on the prosecutor pointing the prisoner out to me, I took him into custody—he said he would not go to the station, and struggled very violently—he might have had some drink—he did not appear as if he had been drinking; as a rule he has a rough appearance—I took him to the station—when charged he denied it.
Cross-examined. When I got him to the station I told him he would be charged with stealing a watch, and at the time I took him into custody also—he was trying to shoot past me when I caught him—he might have been ten or twelve yards from the prosecutor.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, June 27th, 1903.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
530. WILLIAM HOATH (23) PLEADED GUILTY . to feloniously wounding Lawrence Frederick Beyer with intent to do him grievous bodily harm. Four previous convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude. —
(531.) HENRY BURTON (21) to stealing an organette, the property of Cornelius Alderson, and a gelding, the property of Hugh Pike . Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(532.) WILLIAM LINTON (60) to unlawfully possessing a number of counterfeit shillings with intent to utter them; and JOHN POTTER (40) to feloniously making 107 counterfeit shillings. (See next case.) [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
533. WILLIAM LINTON was again indicted with JOHN POTTER with the unlawful possession of a mould on which was impressed the obverse side of a shilling, and another mould on which was impressed the reverse side of a shilling. POTTER PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
ETHEL ROSINA LAYBOURN . I live at 11, Lingen Street, Bromley—by Bow—I have lived there since October, 1898—Linton has knocked at the door for the Potters upstairs, who have answered the door, and asked him upstairs—they had possession of the upper floor—Linton called on and off since Christmas, not before—he called every week, or two or three times a week—he went upstairs every time he came—he stayed about half an hour, never more than an hour—the police came in my place, and I afterwards pointed out Potter's room.
Cross-examined by Linton. On one occasion I answered the door, and said the Potters were out, but generally they came and asked you upstairs.
Re-examined. When Potter was at home Linton was asked upstairs.
STEPHEN CROOKSHANKS (Detective J.) Under the direction of Sergeant Pride, with other officers, I kept observation on Linton, as well as on Potter—on Thursday, May 4th, I saw Linton, who lives at 102, White-chapel Road, at a coffee house—when he left the coffee house he went to Valence Road, where he met Potter, who walked towards him from an opposite direction—they proceeded along Hanbury Street, through various turnings into Brick Lane, and together went into the Ship in Bacon Street, and stopped about three-quarters of an hour—Linton then went to the Weaver's Arms, Hoxton, Potter going towards Brick Lane—on May 9th I saw Linton leave his lodgings at 102, Whitechapel Road, and meet Potter in Valence Road—they walked together through some streets and entered the Ship—they remained there together about twenty minutes, then came out and separated—I followed Potter to High Street, Bromley, but owing to the neighbourhood I lost him—I next saw Linton on May 11th, leaving his lodgings—I and another officer followed him in the train—he got out at Bromley railway station, where Potter was waiting for him—both men went to Lingen Street;
Potter went in and stopped a few minutes, Linton left him, but they met again, took train to Whitechapel and visited the Ship—on May 18th I saw Linton leave his lodgings, go to Whitechapel railway station, take the train to Bromley, and from Bromley he went to 11, Lingen Street; where he entered and stayed half an hour, when he came out and took train to Whitechapel—he then went to the Weaver's Arms, Drysdale Street, Hoxton—I had other duties besides watching the prisoners, but I have seen them together about ten times—four times we followed them, and six times we followed Linton to Lingen Street—once he stayed outside, and five times he went in.
LINTON NOT GUILTY . (See last case.) Three years' penal servitude. POTTER— Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. CORNES Prosecuted.
FREDERICK ALLEN . I live at 14, Chapel Grove, Exmouth Street—about nine years ago I was at the Strand Registry Office, and witnessed the marriage between the prisoner and his wife, whose maiden name was Talbot—she is still alive—I knew her—this is the certificate. [This was dated at the District Registry Office, Strand, July 19th, 1886]—those are the people I saw married referred to in the certificate.
WALTER SELBY (Sergeant G.) I have searched the records at Somerset House and produce copies of the certificates of marriage of the prisoner with Emily Elizabeth Talbot, on July 19th, 1886, and of his marriage with Mary Ann Pearse, on November 29th, 1899—I arrested him on June 2nd at 120, Farringdon Road—I said, "Is your name John Howard Simpson?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer, and I have seen a woman named Emily Elizabeth Simpson; she alleges that she is your wife, and that you have committed bigamy with a woman named Mary Ann Pearse"—he said, "It is quite true"—I said, "I shall arrest you for feloniously marrying Mary Ann Pearse on November 29th, 1899"—he said, "I will give myself up at once for it"—when charged at the police station he made no reply.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You gave yourself up for a bigamous marriage on July 29th, 1901, at Old Street police station—the report says that you entered the station the worse for drink and wished to give yourself up for bigamy—inquires were made, the necessary witnesses could not be found, and you were subsequently liberated.
JOHN EDWARD SIMPSON . I am the prisoner's son—about six years ago I went to the Castle public-house in New Cross Street to sell boot laces and etude—I saw my father and two other men—he said to me, "Halloa, Johnny"—I said, "Halloa, Dad"—he said, "How is your mother?"—I said, "All right, thank you; we only live round the corner, Dad"—he came outside the public-house, gave me 2d. and went into the railway station with the two other men—I went straight home and told my mother—I have not seen him since till now—I had seen him once
"before that, when mother came out of the smallpox hospital when he took me and mother to his granny's—I shall be nineteen years of age on December 21st—I went to school then, and came home, and when mother and I went for a walk we met him.
Cross-examined. I was about thirteen when I saw you at the public-house—it is not twelve years ago.
MARY ANN PEARSE . I live at 141, Carlyle Road, Manor Park—on November 29th, 1899,1 was married to the prisoner—this is the certificate—I have been living with him since—he has always been very good to me.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was separated from his wife by a Magistrate's order eighteen months after the marriage; that he could not live with her in consequence of her prostitution and living with other men; that he had lost sight of her and believed from information he received that she was dead; that it was twelve or thirteen years ago when the boy who said he was his son recognised him; and that the allowances ordered of 12s. a week he had never paid to her.
JOHN EDWARD SIMPSON (Re-examined). Ten years ago we were living in Theobald's Road, Lamb's Conduit Street—mother was called Mrs. Simpson—she was living with a man named Russell in one room on the top floor—then she left him and lived with a man named Hipper in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell, in the same way as she lived with Russell, occupying the same room—she is still living with him—she was living with him when I saw the prisoner at the Castle public-house.
GUILTY , with a strong recommendation to mercy. He received a good character from the police. Discharged on his own recognisances.
MR. ORMSBY Prosecuted.
(The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.)
ELLEN EVANS . I live at 118, Britannia Street, City Road—I am married, but am living with another man—I kept company with the prisoner for some time—I had a child by him—six months ago I parted from him—about October 7th I met him—we walked to Margaret Street—we had a row and a fight—I went with him to Pear Tree Court—we had another row—I hit him, and he hit me—then I felt something in my side—I was taken to the hospital—I was cut or wounded—I was not detained there—I attended the hospital once afterwards—I do not wish to harm the fellow—I was with another man.
RICHARD GOMPERTZ , M.D. I was casualty officer at the Royal Free Hospital—I attended the prosecutrix—she was suffering from a stab in her left side about the eighth rib, and two or three slight scratches—the wound was less than an inch deep, a clean cut, and about a third of an inch long—a small blade of a knife would have done it—I dressed the wound—it was not of a serious character.
WALTER SELBY (Sergeant G.) I saw the prosecutrix about midnight on October 8th, at King's Cross Road police station—from what she told me I examined the jacket she was wearing and found six distinct cuts; also six distinct cuts through the blouse she was wearing and a quantity of blood on it—a warrant was applied for on May 31st, and that day I explained it to the prisoner at King's Cross Road police station—he was charged—he made no reply—between October and May he had left the country—he was arrested by another officer.
FREDERICK MASTERS (271 G.) On May 31st I arrested the prisoner in Northampton Road—he was pointed out to me by the prosecutrix—when I approached him he ran into a house, and I followed him—he said, "Did that girl tell you I stabbed her?"—I replied, "Yes"—I told him he was wanted at King's Cross Road on a warrant, and he must come to the station.
The prisoner's defence: I do not know who stabbed the girl; I have not done it. I went away at once. We had a row and a fight. I fell ill, and went to Italy, and as soon as I was better I came back. I did not know a policeman had a warrant to arrest me.
GUILTY . Four months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 28th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
536. PAUL WELSCH (27) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously causing grievous bodily harm to Ada Hockley, with intent to do her grievous bodily harm. Three years' penal servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
MR. A. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. PETER GRAIN Defended.
RHODA MARTHA BROWN . I am a widow, of 96, Chapman Road, Hackney Wick—the prisoner occupied the front room on the second floor as my lodger with his wife and two children—on June 2nd they had a baby about twelve months old—at about 11.30 p.m. the prisoner returned home—I could hear from my room anything that was going on in his room—I heard him and his wife jangling; I then went to bed—I think about 1 o'clock I was awakened by a scream from the top room—I got out of bed and went on the stairs, and I heard the noise of something go down on the floor in the prisoner's room—I heard Mrs. Cornfield scream; I knew her voice—she said, "You have hit my baby on the head with a boot"—I heard the prisoner mumble something, but could not hear what it was—I saw Mrs. Cornfield on the stairs and she came into my room—the had the baby in her arms—the prisoner was coming down after her and could hear what she said to me—I called him a dirty cur—he said he would like to kick my f—face in—the baby looked very bad; I did not
notice any mark—when I came home from work next morning' I saw the baby and asked Mrs. Cornfield to take it to the doctor's—after she came back the prisoner said that she was only spending money by going to the doctor's—she said if it was her last sixpence she would take it to the doctor's—I told the prisoner it was very bad and he would get into trouble—this, was on the Sunday, the second day after the occurrence.
AMELIA GATTER . I live at, 96, Chapman Road—on June 2nd I went to bed—I know the room occupied by the prisoner and his wife and two children—on June 2nd I heard the prisoner's wife say, "You have hit my baby with the boot"—I could not hear what the prisoner said.
ROBERT DUDGEON . I am a fully qualified medical man, and live at 1, Cadogan Terrace, Victoria Park—on June 3rd Mrs. Cornfield brought the deceased to me—I examined him and found a mark behind the right ear of a sort of round shape, surrounding which there was a lot of extravasation of blood coming up to the eye in front and some distance behind, about five inches in extent—it was a mark which would be caused by the throwing of a boot, and it had the shape of a boot heel—I attended to the child until June 17th, when it died—on the 19th I made a postmortem examination and found the skull was fractured; it had been pushed in—the cause of death was meningitis caused by the fracture.
GEORGE WALLANCE (Inspector 0.) I was present at the inquest held on the deceased, who was twelve months old—after the verdict I arrested the prisoner—I said to him, "I shall arrest you on a warrant just issued by the Coroner for the manslaughter of your baby"—he said, "You can do what you f—well like; you can give me five years if you like"—I took him to Hackney police station, where he was charged—in answer to the charge he said, "It is a damned lie"—I heard him give his evidence before the Coroner—he was cautioned—it was read over to him and he signed it—he said, "When I came home from posting a letter my wife laughed at me. I asked her what she was laughing at. She said, "You, you bastard." She kept on laughing at me, when I threw my boot at her which she said hit the baby on the bed. I meant it for her, not for the baby. "The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he asked his wife for some ink; that she said she would try to get him a bottle; that she came back and said, "Here you are, you bastard "; that he went to post his letter, and when he came back his wife asked him where he had been; that she continually called him names; that he threw his boot across the room in his temper, but not intending to hurt his wife or the baby.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the provocation. The police stated that the prisoner was frequently drunk, and knocked to wife about continually. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. PETER GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. GREENFIELD Defended.
EDWARD COOK . I am an ironworker, of 86, Great Cambridge Street—on November 5th, 1904, about 10 p.m., I was in Columbia Road where there is a public-house called the Bird Cage—I saw five men come out of the Bird Cage
the prisoner was one of them—they went to the corner of Fountain Street and started fighting—I did not see anybody struck—I saw one of them bleeding from a wound in his forehead—he was a foreigner; I do not know who he was—I saw an ordinary half-pint glass on the ground.
Cross-examined. I did not see from which direction the glass came.
JOHN FRANKLIN (375 H.) On November 5th, about 10 p.m., I was in the neighbourhood of Columbia Road and in sight of the Bird Cage—I saw five men come out of the Bird Cage—they were jangling together—the prisoner and the deceased were with them—I saw the deceased take his overcoat off and want to fight with one of the men; I cannot say which one—then they happened to see me on the other side of the road, so he put his overcoat on again and they all went down towards Fountain Street—no fight took place then—as I was walking by Virginia Street towards Fountain Street I heard some glass being broken—I saw the prisoner holding the deceased by the throat—the deceased said the prisoner had struck him on the head with a glass while another man named Kichovitch (See page 1073) held him round the neck—they were all sober—the glass was broken; I saw the pieces.
Cross-examined. I saw nothing of the glass being broken or used by anybody; I simply heard what the deceased man said.
By the COURT. The deceased was about five feet tall—they were all foreigners; some of them as in the bamboo trade.
GEORGE CORNELL . I am a chair maker, and live at Ravenscroft Buildings—on November 5th, about 10 p.m., I was in Columbia Road and saw the prisoner with five other men—I did not know the deceased—the men were all turned out of the Bird Cage and were standing outside—the prisoner and Kichovitch were rowing—they went down Columbia Road and when they came to Fountain Street the prisoner and the deceased started fighting—I saw the prisoner take an ordinary half-pint glass out of his pocket and strike the deceased on the forehead—the glass was not broken—the constables came up and took him into custody—when they came up the deceased was standing against the wall and the prisoner and Kichovitch had him by the neck—I did not hear the deceased say anything to the constable—when the prisoner struck the deceased with a glass it dropped to the ground and was broken by the fall—the deceased was bleeding from his forehead after he was stick—the prisoner did not throw the glass.
Cross-examined. I had not known any of the men before—I said before the Magistrate, "I saw a man 1 do not know strike the deceased with the beer glass on the head"—it was the prisoner who did it, but I did not know him before—I know him now because I have seen him at the Court—I could not have described him—I followed the prisoner to the station.
Re-examined. He was arrested at the moment.
ARTHUR MULBERGER . I am house surgeon at the German hospital—on November 24th the deceased was brought in, suffering from a compound fracture of the forehead on the right side—he remained so until he died on January 4th—the wound was such as might have been caused by a
blow from an ordinary glass tumbler—when I examined him on November 24th the wound might have been caused three weeks before—he died from inflammation of the membrane of the brain, which was the result of the wound on his forehead.
Cross-examined. After he had been wounded he did not take any trouble about the injury, and the inflammation indirectly caused the inflammation of the membrane of the brain—if he had been to a hospital im-mediately afterwards, I am quite sure he would have been saved.
HENRY DESSENT (Sergeant H.) I found the prisoner detained at Salford—through an interpreter I told him I was a police officer, and the substance of the warrant was explained to him—he replied, "I did not strike him; I can find witnesses"—on the following morning he was charged at Commercial Street police station, and through an interpreter he said, "Find George Navitska; he can prove I did not strike him.
Cross-examined. After the disturbance he was apprehended and charged with the assault—on November 7th it was explained that the prosecutor was too ill to attend—the prisoner was discharged, and after the fatal result the prisoner surrendered himself at Salford.
Re-examined. On the 7th the prisoner, with another prisoner, was remanded until the 12th—on the 12th the interpreter was not obtainable and they were further remanded until the 19th, when the prosecutor was not it attendance—the Magistrate was informed that the prosecutor could have been in attendance, and the prisoner was discharged—five days after that the deceased was admitted to the German Hospital—Kichovitch was brought up on May 31st for causing the death of the deceased, and acquitted, no evidence being offered.
MR. GREENFIELD submitted that the evidence of the cause of death was not efficient, and the COURT, concurring, directed the Jury to return a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. CLARKE HALL Defended.
The COURT considered that the child, who was of the age of seven years, ought not to be sworn, and MR. HUTTON thereupon offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, June 28th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WING Prosecuted.
the Commercial Road, going eastwards—I had passed the corner of a road where, I think, there is a factory, and was in the bend of the road which takes the form of an "S"—there is a gas light about twenty yards away, but I do not think there is one at the corner—as I was going to step off the pavement to go across the carriage way I heard something behind me, and felt that I had been grappled on both sides of the neck, not on the wind pipe, but on the transverse vertebrae, and I knew at once that I would fall—I turned my head to the right, feeling the pressure more, and my blood flew to the brain, but I was able to see in profile the head of the man who was holding me and that he was a tall man, and was drawing me backwards with his hands on both sides of my neck—another man was in front of me—my frock coat, which was buttoned, was opened—I shouted and struck out, and I believe I struck the man in front of me—I heard a voice that seemed to come from one side of me, evidently addressed to the man who was holding me from behind, say, "You clumsy b—choke him; don't you see he is strong t"—I presume I was trying to kick out with my feet at the man in front—I felt the grip on my neck closed—I became unconscious—by gripping the side of the neck you stop the supply of blood to the brain, and fall within about ten seconds from the time it is closed—when I recovered consciousness I found myself lying on the pavement, with my top hat driven over my nose, and smashed like a concertina—it was a new hat, and stiff, and must have required considerable pressure to do it; my clothes were all torn, and I missed my umbrella, which was silk, and had a silver top, mounted with a stone, and cost over £12—the stone was green and brown, and is only to be got usually in small pieces, but this was a large piece—it was of the crysolite series—the silver top had my monogram on it—I have had it perhaps twenty years—I also lost an 18-carat gold Albert chain, except one link, which seems to have been cut, and my watch at the end of the chain, also two silver cigar holders, a diamond scarf pin, and a silver and gold cigar case—the watch was valuable; fortunately I had not my gold watch on at the time—the scarf pin was worth about £25; it had a seal stone and my initials—the detective has it—that was the only thing that was picked up; it has a screw on the end to prevent the pin being pulled out readily, and they had to tear the whole thing right through, and force the nut behind—on regaining consciousness I found a man standing over me trying to revive me—he asked me whether I had been hurt, and told me he was the coffee stall keeper; he helped me up, and to his coffee stall, a short distance away—I felt ill, and had to be carried, but in about an hour I was able to walk, and was taken to the police station in West India Dock Road, where I gave a description of one of my assailants—I subsequently attended at the police station, and identified the prisoner from nine or ten other men, three of whom were similar in appearance—that was the same day that I was before the Magistrate, Thursday, June 8th—it is the prisoner who held me from behind—I live miles further east, but my cab horse had broken down at Albert Square, and I was walking to the next cab rank—I am a stranger to the neighbourhood.
WILLIAM BROWN (Detective K.) About 8.45 p.m. on the 7th inst. I saw the prisoner in Commercial Road—I said, "Doyle, I am going to arrest you on suspicion of being concerned with four men who assaulted and robbed an old gentleman in the Commercial Road between 2 and 3 on Tuesday morning"—he said, "All right I expect I shall get picked up for this job; I saw it in the newspaper, but I know nothing about it"—I took him to the police station—the following morning he was placed with eight or nine other men, and identified by the doctor—when charged he said, "I am innocent"—I conveyed him to Thames Police Court in a cab—on the way he said, "I stayed all that night with Mrs. Gilby, at 71, Chapman Street."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not come across the road to meet me, but you were standing still when I arrested you—I called at your house and made a communication to your mother—as I knew you had gone out of the neighbourhood, I asked her to try and find you.
Re-examined. I, with another officer in plain clothes, had been looking after the prisoner—I crossed the road, and he saw me when I was about a yard away.
ARTHUR MAY . I live at 18, Castle Street, Stepney, and keep a coffee stall in Commercial Road—about 2.30 a.m. on June 7th I saw Mr. Gallie go by the stall—in about two seconds two chaps followed him—when the old gentleman had got to the corner I heard him holloa—jumping over the stall, I saw four men run across the road; one was tall and another taller still—the prisoner was one—I picked him out from eight others on Tuesday—the prisoner had been at my stall once or twice before—I recognised him by his clothes—he had the same clothes on on the Monday morning as he had on the night the doctor was robbed—I saw him dodge Across the road—I saw his face—two of the men when they passed the stall had their coats buttoned up at the neck—I helped to pick the old gentleman up, took him to my stall, and looked after him—later I was shown a photograph, which I identified as the prisoner's—when I first went to the old gentleman he was "like silly"—he was on his knees. getting up, and against the railing—he had three cups of coffee.
Cross-examined. The Magistrate asked me if I could identify any of the four men—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Which one?"—I said, "The one in the dock"—I first identified your photograph as one of the men who crossed the road, and the man I had seen sometimes at my stall.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said he knew nothing of the robbery, and that he stayed on that Monday night at 10, Kirk's Place, Roswell Road, Limehouse, which he never left till Wednesday, June 7th, between 9 and 10 a.m.
Evidence for the Defence.
MARGARET GILBY . I am the wife of Charles Gilby—I have no fixed abode—I am not living with him—I have seen the prisoner on several occasions—I have been sleeping at my sister's place, 10, Kirk's Place, since I came out of hospital on a Monday, and she took me there—the prisoner came on June 5th, and we played judo and penny games till Wednesday morning, when he went away, and I saw no more of him till I saw him at Arbor
Square Police Court—he left about 11 a.m., and I stayed and had a bit of dinner—I had a baby lying ill—it was the Monday before that when I came out of the hospital—I went to my mother-in-law's about 9.30, and then went to Kirk's Place—the prisoner stayed two nights, and went away on the Wednesday morning—he slept by himself on a made-up bed in the corner by the fire place, and we two women slept in the bed in the same room—the same thing happened when the prisoner came on May 29th—he came there because he was keeping company with Emma Gilby.
EMMA GLIBY . I am single, and live at 10, Kirk's Place, Roswell Road—the prisoner was in my company from June 5th till June 7th—I met him on June 5th, and we went to my mother's place about 3.30 p.m., and stayed till 9.30 p.m., when the prisoner, I, and my sister-in-law left together, and went straight home to Kirk's Place, where the prisoner stayed till Wednesday, June 7th, when he went away.
Cross-examined. The prisoner stopped at 10, Kirk's Place, because he was intoxicated, and it was raining—I slept with my sister and her baby—the prisoner slept on an overlay which my sister put on the floor—he went out of the room when we went to bed, and then came and stopped—we talked a little, but not for long, and then went to sleep—on several occasions he has spent the night there—he had been living with his mother—he has been keeping company with me.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on January 1st, 1902. Four other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK READ (Police-Sergeant). On May 19th I was with Fowler and Burnham in the neighbourhood of Selgrave Road, Shepherd's Bush, about 5.45 p.m.—I saw Jones and Percy Courtney in Shepherd's Bush Road together—Jones was carrying a brown hand-bag—they got outside a motor 'bus going eastward, and alighted before they got to the Tube station at Notting Hill Gate, a distance of about two miles—when they got off they stood in conversation about two minutes, and Jones handed Courtney the bag—I saw Courtney hand something to Jones, and they separated—Courtney walked towards the Tube station and Jones went to 88, High Street, the shop of Mr. Hawkins, a hosier on the north side—Courtney stood and looked in that direction—I saw Jones leave the shop—when he came out I entered the shop, and spoke to the assistant, Mr. George, who produced this coin, which I examined, and found to be a counter-feit florin—I left the shop immediately, and walked in the direct on where I had seen Jones—I saw them meet in the Tube railway station entrance—Jones handed Courtney something which he placed in the brown bag, and then Courtney handed something back to Jones—they then
came out of the station together, and separated—Jones went to Straker's shop at 68, High Street—Courtney was then standing outside the Tube station looking in the direction of the shop, at a distance of about forty yards—Jones looked into the window before he went into the shop—as he was coming out of the door I pushed by him, and went and spoke to the cashier, Beatrice Short, who handed me this counterfeit florin, which is similar to the one uttered at the hosier's, and of the same date—I marked the coins in the presence of the persons to whom they had been uttered—the one uttered at Hawkins, shop is bent by the assistant testing it—I spoke to Burnham, who was near, before I went into the shops—when I came out of Straker's the men were turning into Silver Street together—Burnham and I followed and stopped them—I told Jones I was a police officer, and should take him into custody for uttering counterfeit coins—the prisoners made no reply—I took Jones, and Burn—ham took Courtney to the station—on being searched I found on Jones fifteen shillings, and two pence bronze, good money, and a watch.
Cross-examined by Jones. I did not say at the Police Court that Courtney opened the bag and gave you something out of it.
GEORGE BIRNIE (Sergeant F.) I was with Read, and saw Jones leave Straker's shop, and Read enter it—when Jones came out he joined Courtney at the top of Silver Street, which" is almost opposite the shop—when Read came out of Straker's he rejoined me, and we followed the men to Silver Street—we stopped them—I took Courtney into custody—I told him the charge—he made no reply—I took him to the station—when searched I found in his trousers pocket this purse, which contained forty florins wrapped up separately in paper, twenty-one of which are dated 1872, and nineteen 1873—I found four others similarly wrapped up in his waistcoat pocket—in good money I found three shillings, four sixpences, three pennies, and two halfpennies in two pockets, not with the counter-feit coins—when arrested he was carrying this bag, in which were two coins, two collars, and this tube of "Mendine"—when charged at the station with uttering he said, "I understand."
FREDERICK GEORGE . I reside at 88, High Street, Nothing Hill Gate—I am assistant to Mr. Hawkins, a hosier—on May 19th, about 6.15 p.m., I served Jones with this sixpenny collar—he gave me a 2s. piece in payment, and I gave him the change—when he left the shop Read came in and spoke to me, in consequence of which I showed him the coin I had received—I examined it; it is bent, and I marked it with a pencil.
Cross-examined by Jones. I am positive it was not a half-crown you gave me—no one else was in the shop—I simply mark the cost of the article on the till—I gave you 1s. 6d. change—I was satisfied at the time that the coin was genuine till I was spoken to—I had only one other 2s. piece—yours was in better preservation than the other—I laid it on the top of the till—I did not notice the date.
BEATRICE SHORT . I am cashier at Straker's stationer's shop, 68, High Street, Nothing Hill Gate—on May 19th, about 6.15 p.m., I served, Jones with a tube of "Mendine," price 4 1/2 d.—he tendered a 2s. piece, and I gave him 1s. 7 1/2 d. change—as soon as he had gone out Read came in and
spoke to me, in consequence of which I showed him the coin which I had still on the desk, and had not put in the till—he took it away, and gave me another for it—he marked it in my presence.
Cross-examined by Jones. I took the coin between the lights, and did not notice it was bad, but I should have been sure to have noticed it in checking my money—I dare say I should have found it out before putting it in the till—the first intimation I had that it was bad proceeded from somebody who was not in the shop when it was passed.
HENRY FOWLER (Detective-Sergeant). I was with Bernie and Burnham on May 19th in Selgrave Road—about 5.45 p.m. I saw the male prisoner going towards Shepherd's Bush Road—Jones was carrying this bag—Read was acting with us—we had been keeping the prisoners under observation—about 7 p.m., in consequence of a communication made to me, I went with Burnham to Percy House, which contains six flats—I rang the bell at No. 6—the door was answered by the female prisoner—I said, "Is Mr. Palmer in?"—she said, "No"—I said, "We are police officers, and suspect you of being in possession of counterfeit coin"—we walked into the passage—she led the way into the back kitchen, where she sat on a couch, upon which was a small cushion, from which I saw Burnham take ten or twelve coins—on a small table close to the couch I found fifteen counterfeit coins loose, also wrapped in this paper, all burnt and stained with acid, and twenty-five other counterfeit florins—I said to her, "You will be charged with two others in custody with having these coins in your possession"—she said, "Who has done this for us?"—I searched the place with Burnham—she said, "You do not want to pull the place about; you will find all you want in that drawer," and she pointed to a drawer in the dresser—on a shelf in the scullery I saw Burnham find various articles—we continued to search other parts of the premises—she said, "You will not find any moulds, as they have been broken up and thrown away; everything is in the drawer and on the shelf—she pointed out the drawer and the shelf—while making the further search she said, "Will I be allowed out on bail?"—I said, "I do not think so, but that is a matter for the Magistrate"—she said, "I do not know what I shall do about the home; my people will not have anything to do with me since my husband died"—we conveyed her by cab to Nothing Hill police station—while she was dressing to go out I searched a chest of drawers in the bedroom, and found a purse containing £5 10s. in gold, and 12s. silver; a purse was on the table, which contained 8s. 3d. silver, good money—in the back bedroom I found several cards bearing the name "W. J. Jones," and referring to portraits—in a drawer in a dressing table in that room I found 18s. fn silver, and this Post Office Savings Bank book, in the name of W. J. Jones, No. 6, Percy House, Selgrave Road, Shepherd's Bush—she said, "That belongs to Jones"—I gave the book up by order of the Magistrate, on the prisoners applicant on, and all good money. [The book produced was No. 7047, of William J. Jones, No. 6, Percy House, Selgrave Road, Shepherds Bush, occupation, artist; and showed a balance of £7 15s. on May 6th.]—the flat consisted of four rooms: two bedrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen and scullery,
and was fairly well furnished—I have searched 226, Uxbridge Road, the address given by Jones at the station after his arrest—I found no signs of photography being carried on there—it is furnished as an office and is over a confectioner's shop—I found there some more of Jones' cards, giving that address, and an empty picture frame—we conveyed the female prisoner to the station—I asked her her name, which she gave as Mary Courtney, and described herself as a dressmaker—at the station I told the prisoners they would be charged with being concerned together in knowingly uttering two counterfeit florins to Frederick George and Beatrice Short, with intent to cheat and defraud, and further with being concerned in having possession of forty-four counterfeit coins, the coins found at the time of arrest, with intent to utter and put off the same—the men replied, "All right, sir"—I then told all three prisoners that they would be charged with being concerned together in having in their possession fifty-two counterfeit florins, with intent to utter and put off the same, and further feloniously having in their possession a machine or battery, and other materials used in the manufacture of counterfeit coin at 6, Percy House, Shepherd's Bush—Mary Courtney made no reply—Arthur Courtney said, "All right, sir."
Cross-examined by Mary Courtney. I never said to you, "You have been properly put away, so you may just as well tell me where the things are."
Re-examined. I noticed the front parts of her fingers were black—there was a cup of tea on the table.
WILLIAM BURNHAM (Detective-Sergeant.) I was with Fowler on May 19th at 6.15 p.m., and saw the two men leave Percy House—Jones was carrying the brown bag produced—about 7 p.m. Fowler and I searched the home—the female prisoner at once took us to the kitchen, and sat on the sofa—twelve coins were on the table, and two files and some coins were under a pillow on the couch where she sat, and which was near the table where these two files were found—the tops of the woman's fingers were black—eight of the coins found on the table were dated 1872, and four were dated 1873—she pointed out the dresser drawer, in which were found these two earthen water wheeled—one is a plating phial, and the other a little bath for clean water—there were also a bottle of cyanide of potassium, and two empty bottles, a saucepan with metal attached to the sides, these piece of metal, one is known as a get, and is a little bit of metal which sticks out from the mould, a spoon with metal attached to it, some copper wire in the bath, some pincers, and a clamp which goes round the mould—I found a large packet of plaster of Paris on a shelf in the scullery, and in the kitchen some silver sand, some clothe, used when putting the fingers in acid, two knives with plaster of Paris on them, this polishing board in the scullery, and a brush, with marks where coins have been polished, and which is called a scrubbing board, some long stripe of new paper on the table in the kitchen, bearing marks where coins had been, the coins having been greased, ready for taking out—they are generally wrapped up in this way so that they shall not rub—these two bottles were on a shell in the scullery, and contained cyanide of potassium, and nitrate of silver, for plating—I have tested the
acids, and plated with them—the following day we made another search, when I found in a vase in the sitting room on a little side shelf six shillings and three florins—one of the shillings is dated 1873, and has slight signs of plaster of Paris upon it—the coins are very well cleaned—on the way to the station in the cab the female prisoner said, "If I do not get bail I do not know what I shall do with the home; I have no friends that will look after it"—I said, "Perhaps your husband's friends will take charge of it"—she said, "He is not my husband; I may as well tell you, as it is bound to come out. I shall get Russell to look after it"—Russell is someone who moved them.
QUINTON RICHARD KEAY . I am the caretaker at 2, Percy House, Selgrave Road, and have the letting of the rooms—the female prisoner came about January 15th, giving the name of Mrs. Palmer, and asked to look at a flat—she looked at No. 6, and arranged to rent it unfurnished at 14s. a week—she said she wanted it for herself, her husband or her brother-in-law, I forget which—possession was taken about a week after her coming—rent was paid first in advance and next on January 30th—the flat was occupied till the arrest on this charge—I have seen the two men on one or two occasions go out—the woman has been there all the time—the rent was paid regularly by the female prisoner.
Cross-examined by Jones. I have seen you there once or twice.
Re-examined. I knew Courtney as Palmer.
SAMUEL AINSWORTH STURTON . I am a chemist, of 9, Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush—Arthur Courtney has been to my shop as a customer—on one occasion Jones accompanied him—the first time the name is in my book is on April 18th—he has had various pick-me-ups and many things, and a pennyworth of nitrate of silver—he signed himself as Jones—he handed me this card (Jones's card) when he came alone—I have sold him cyanide of potassium on two occasions—he specially asked for it to be 98 per cent strength—the usual strength is 40 per cent., as used in photography—I last supplied him on April 25th with a four-ounce bottle—I never went to 226, Uxbridge Road, to make enquiries, because I was single handed and could not get away—in the first place he showed me a bottle, and asked for that strength—I would know the bottle again—when Jones and Courtney were there together I believe they asked me for another bottle of cyanide of potassium of that strength.
Cross-examined by Jones. You were not present when Courtney ordered cyanide of potassium in your name, or I should have required you to sign as a witness—a customer is required to sign a poison book if the acid is supplied—you were not with Courtney when he offered me the card.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to His Majesty's Mint—all the ninety-eight coins produced are counterfeit—fifty-nine are dated 1872, and thirty-nine 1873, two different moulds—the twelve coins found below the cushion on the sofa are in various stages of completion, some are filed, some are finished up to the silvering, some are ready for uttering—the coins in being finished will mark the finger as if by a black lead pencil in rubbing them over—I have seen all these articles produced—they form part of a stock-in-trade of coiners.
Jones, in his defence on oath, said that he tendered what he believed to be genuine coin; that he lodged at Percy House, but knew nothing about a coining business; and that the police had stated what they must have known was untrue. He admitted a conviction on September 2nd, 1901, at Bow Street Police Court when he was sentenced to six weeks' hard labour, and another conviction at the North London Sessions, Clerkenwell, on December 23rd, 1903, when he was sentenced to three months' had labour.
Witness for Jones.
THOMAS MAITLAND . I live at 221, Hammersmith Road, W.—I have been an agent for Jones in getting orders for enlarged photographs for pictures for framing since first week in April at a salary and a commission—I sent in my orders to Jones' office in Uxbridge Road as his sub-agent—no photographic business was carried on there—the orders varied from one or two in a day to four or five hundred a week.
Cross-examined. My salary was a 1s. a day to cover expenses, and a commission of 1s. 6d. on each order for five or six pictures—221, Hammersmith Road, is one of the Rowton Houses—the pictures are crown enlargements of photographs which are executed at 165, Rosebery Avenue, Clerkenwell, 226, Uxbridge Road, being the office to which the orders were sent—the price of the pictures was 5s. 6d. each.
Mary Courtney, in ha defence on oath, said that Courtney was her maiden name; that she knew of the coins and things being in the place, but had no control over them, and had nothing to do with them; that her business was merely to look after the flat; and that her fingers were merely black by having made a cup of tea.
Cross-examined by Jones. I did not go to another shop where you had purchased the collar, to ascertain whether you had tendered good money.
JONES and MARY COURTNEY GUILTY . Jones's two former convictions were stated by the police to be in addition to two other convictions. Two other convictions were proved against Arthur Courtney— Five years' penal servitude each. MARY COURTNEY— Twelve months, hard labour.
NEW COURT and OLD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, June 28th and 29th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
544. ALBERT CHAPMAN (32) , Stealing a rope of pearls and other jewels, the property of Hugh Richard Arthur Grosvenor, Duke of Westminster; and GEORGE WHITE (33) , Feloniously receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen. CHAPMAN PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SYMMONS Prosecuted; MR. H. ST. JOHN RAIKES Defended White.
CONSTANCE GROSVENOR . I am the Duchess of Westminster—on May 30th I was staying at my town house, 33, Upper Grosvenor Street—about midnight on May 29th I returned home—before going to bed I put on my dressing table in my dressing-room a pearl necklace and a diamond brooch, with a number of other articles of jewellery, amongst which was this owl brooch (Produced)—these are the articles that were on the table (Produced)—at 9 a.m. next morning when I came down I found they were not there—at some date in June Mr. Drew showed them all to me and I recognised them as my property—there is one little diamond brooch broken, the small leaves being broken off—Chapman was formerly a night watchman in my service; he would know the way about the house—these are my handkerchiefs; they are marked with my initials and coronet.
ALEXANDER HATCHARD . I am assistant secretary to the Duke of Westminster, and live at 33, Upper Grosvenor Street—Chapman was formerly a night watchman at Grosvenor House, and I discharged him on November 25th for misconduct—in front of No. 33, Upper Grosvenor Street, there is a courtyard in front of the carriage drive—in and beside the carriage entrance there are two doors for pedestrians—once you are in the courtyard you can get On to the staircase, but you cannot get into the lumber rooms, as they are looked from the inside—the outer door which leads into the courtyard is locked, I should think, about 10 p.m.—a person who had an acquaintance with the locality like Chapman had could get in and conceal himself before the door was locked; he could stop on the landing by the lumber rooms—it is almost between the houses; it is part of No. 33—to gain access to No. 33 a person would have to descend a disused staircase and turn off to the left down to the basement which goes right down into the house; the whole of Grosvenor House was then open to him—he would not then have to come into the courtyard again to get access.
Cross-examined. Within a reasonable time of his discharge we regarded Chapman as a fairly satisfactory man—he had been in the service of the Duke since March, 1901, always as a night watchman—I was with 4he Duke during the time—he came with excellent testimonials.
JOSEPH WHEELER . I live at 7, Hawkshead Road, Willesden, and am employed as night watchman at Grosvenor House—on the night of May 29th and the morning of May 30th I was on duty, commencing my rounds about 10 p.m. and leaving off about 7 a.m.—I should patrol Nos. 31, 32, 33, and 35, Upper Grosvenor Street—about 11.30 p.m. I opened the gate to admit the Duchess—I locked the door giving access from the staircase into the courtyard at 11 p.m., and closed the front gates and the front door at 12.30 a.m., leaving the key of the front door inside, so that anybody who once got into the place could get out—I found the Duchess's dressing room window, which is on the first floor, was open about ten minutes after she had gone to bed, and I closed it—I did not notice whether there was anything on the table at the
time—about 2.30 a.m. I left Grosvenor House by the side door, shutting and locking it after me, and walked to No. 35, where I went through the premises to see that they were all safe—I then came from the side door of No. 35, and walked across the courtyard to No. 33 again—the distance between the two doors is about eighty yards—I was on duty till 7 a.m. and I saw nothing wrong.
DAVID LEVIN . I am a dealer in jewellery, of 127, Clapham Park Road—I do not recognise Chapman as well as my wife does; he is altered in appearance, but some man whom I believe to be Chapman called upon me on the morning of May 30th and brought me this brooch (Produced) and I had a conversation with him—at the end of the conversation I kept the brooch and he went away—I communicated with the police and handed the brooch over to them.
AMY LEVIN . I am the wife of David Levin—on May 30th someone came into the ship with a brooch, and while my husband was looking at it I looked at the man; it was Chapman—I picked him out from some others at Vine Street.
EDWARD DREW (Inspector C.) On May 30th I received information of this robbery of jewellery from Grosvenor House, and I made enquiries—in consequence of a communication I received from Levin, Chapman, about 11p.m. on June 13th, was brought to Vine Street police station by a constable—after his identification the following morning he made a statement to me which I took down in writing, and he signed it—in consequence of information received in that way, I went down to Cambridge on June 11th, and, with Chief Constable Holland, went to 17, Priory Road, which is a small house—I there saw White's wife and had a conversation with her, but I cannot say whether White heard it; he was in the next room—she called him and he came from the kitchen—I told him who I was, and said, pointing to the chief constable, "I think you know who this is"—I said, "I want the parcel of jewellery that Chapman left here about a fortnight ago"—he hesitated and did not appear to make any answer—I then cautioned him, and showed him the written statement signed by Chapman—he said, "He did bring some things here, but he took them away again"—he then hesitated and seemed to be prevaricating and I said, "I do not believe by your manner that you are telling me the truth"—his wife thereupon said, "For God's sake tell the truth"—he did not answer to that—I said, "Give me all the things at once"—he said, "I have not got them here" I said, "Where are they I" and he again made no reply—his wife said, "Do tell them"—he said, "They are not here; they are about two miles away. I got afraid of having them in the house, and buried them in a field along the Newmarket Road"—I told him I should require him to accompany me and point out the spot—we got a cab out-side, and I again cautioned him, as he appeared to hesitate—I told him to dress himself, as he was partly undressed, being a tailor, and we went to the door—he then said, "I will tell you the truth. He left them here, and I saw the case in the paper and got frightened and buried them. I will show you where they are"—with the chief constable we got into
the cab, and he directed it through different streets into the Newmarket Road, and along the Newmarket Road we stopped at a gateway leading into a couple of fields divided by a thick hedge—we got out and went into the field, proceeding along the hedge for about sixty yards, where he pointed to a spot, underneath which he said they were—I dug down and found all the missing jewellery, except some broken pieces of a brooch which were handed to me by Levin—they were wrapped up in this piece of wadding and this piece of brown paper (Produced)—this rope of pearls was wrapped in this handkerchief (Produced), which made one of six that we found there all marked with a coronet and the letter "W."—the jewellery comprised a rope of pearls, twelve diamond brooches, a diamond hair ornament, a gold chain bracelet, and a gold muff chain—one brooch alone is worth £400 or £500—I took White to the Cambridge police station, where I put down in writing the result of the interview, which he signed—I wrote down this correction at his dictation, "I meant by him taking them away that he did take them away, but he brought them back again, and I was going to add that when you told me you did not believe I was telling the truth"—he then went on to say, "He (Chapman) was on the Newmarket Road when I was out in the morning, and when I got home my wife asked me if I had seen anybody; neither she nor me had seen him till that time. It was one of my children that saw him, and I sent my child out about half-past 2 to look for him. The child came back and said he had gone, and about 4 p.m. he came himself to the back of the house, and sent one of my children in to tell me he wanted to see me. I went to the front door and asked him in, but he would not come in, as he said he had someone to meet, and was afraid he should miss him; he asked me to go to the top of the street with him, where he walked. I went up there in about half-an-hour's time and saw him there and asked him what he was doing there; he told me he had walked down from London. I asked him to come in and have a cup of tea, when he showed me a piece of broken brooch with two leaves broken off, and he also produced a tobacco pouch which he opened and was full of jewellery. I asked him where he got them from, and he said, "That is all right. Ask no questions.' He then came down to my house and had tea and took some of the jewellery from the tobacco pouch which he again showed to me, and put it back again, and he and I went out into the town and returned home about 11.30 p.m. when he said he would not walk to London that night, and I invited him to sleep at my house, which he said he would do. Before he went to bed he handed me the whole of the jewellery which he had, and asked me to mind it. I told him I would, and put it on the mantelpiece in the room where he slept, which was the kitchen. I got up at 6 a.m., and he got up and had breakfast, and after that he went, leaving the jewellery for me to mind. He said nothing whatever about when he would come again for it. On the day after he left I saw an account in the papers, the" Express," about the robbery at the Duke of Westminster's, and as there were some pocket-handkerchiefs with a coronet and 'W' on it, I surmised that the jewellery he left might be from there, and, wanting to get rid
of them out of the house, I went and buried them"—I took that statement down in writing in my pocket book and read it over to him, and he signed it—he had given me to understand before that he had known Chapman as a native of Cambridge—the wife told me that they knew him quite well—I took him to Vine Street police station, where the two prisoners were put together and charged with the robbery and receiving—White said, "I wish to state that when I received the jewels I did not know they were stolen"—Chapman said, in White's presence, "Mrs. White begged of me to bring them back again"—White said, "Was that in my presence or my absence?" and Chapman said, "In your absence, of course"—this is Chapman's tobacco pouch, found on him Winn arrested (Produced), but I cannot say whether it is the one White spoke of—I got some pieces of broken brooch at Cambridge, where they had been sold at a shop, and also three little pieces sold in Wandsworth Road, London.
Cross-examined. The statement I took down in writing from Chapman was practically a confession; he described his movements after he had taken the jewellery. [MR. RAIKES proposed to read the statement, to which MR. SYMMONS objected on the ground that Chapman was available at a witness, and the fact that he had said something was not evidence. The COURT intimated that the statement was past of the case, and that the Defence should not of necessity le obliged to call Chapman. MR. SYMMONS withdrew his objection, but-said he must not be taken to have assented to the truth of the statement]—as regards the time he reached Cambridge, he said, "I then went to 17, Priory Road, Newmarket Road, Cambridge, to Mrs. White, whom I know personally, and slept at her house. She was alone when I went there, and I showed her the rest of the jewellery and asked her to hide it for me, telling her where I had got it from. She begged of me to take it back again, but I could not see my way clear to do so, otherwise I would have started that same night and walked the whole of the way back, as I then realised the enormity of my crime, and thought of the effect on my aged parents, should it become known to them. Mr. White arrived home soon after 9.30 p.m., and, having left the jewellery in the keeping of Mrs. White, I explained to him that I had been tramping the country in search of work. When I handed the jewellery to Mrs. White she wrapped them up in some cotton wool and placed them in a box which she tied up in brown paper, which she implored me to allow her to send back. I told her I could not possibly send them back, as they would see that they came from Cam-bridge, and suspicion would then fall on me, as they knew at Grosvenor House that I come from Cambridge. I slept there that night and started off for London in the morning, and before leaving Mrs. White I told her that I should eventually call for them and find some means of restoring them to the Duchess, and it was only on these conditions that she retained them"—when White came to me from the kitchen he appeared to be somewhat frightened and nervous; he did not give me a straight-forward answer; he appeared to be confused—I should not have thought it was a difficult position for him—he seemed to make up his mind to
tell the whole truth when we got the cab—it was entirely due to him that we recovered the jewels—according to Chapman, White was not on the scene till 9.30 p.m., whereas White says that he knew about Chapman during the whole afternoon—according to Chapman, Mrs. White received the jewels—I understood by Chapman saying, "Mrs. White begged me to bring them back "that Mrs. White begged him to take them back to London. [MR. RAIKES submitted that the evidence went to show that the receipt was by the wife, and that the question was whether the prisoner adapted her act (Queen v. Greig, Dear sty and Bell's Crown Cases.) The COURT held that according to the prisoner's own statement he had received the jewels, and that there was never a receipt by the wife. MR. RAIKES stated that he would not ask for a special case.]
White, in his defence on oath, said that at 3.30 p.m. on May 30th he saw Chapman, an old school fellow of his, in a very dilapidated condition in Cambridge; that he told him he had walked from London; that on going back to his (White's) house Chapman opened a purse and he caught a momentary glance of some jewellery; that he said, "What have you got there?" and Chapman said, "Ask no questions and you will hear no lies"; that he then asked him if he had started cheap jewellery; that Chapman said,' I have got to do something for a living,' from which he gathered that he was traveling in jewellery; that at tea, in the presence of his wife, Chapman produced two brooches and asked his opinion of them, but that he said he was no judge; that he invited Chapman to stop the night, and that on retiring he asked him to mind the jewellery; that he told Chapman to put it on the kitchen mantelpiece, which he saw him do; that Chapman left next morning, asking him to mind the jewels, which he said he would; that he (White) left them on the mantelpiece and did not examine them till the following morning, when he read in the paper of the robbery; that on examination he surmised that Chapman had stolen them from the Duchess by finding some handkerchiefs with a letter "W" upon them; that he waited till the following Sunday for Chapman to come back, and on his failing to do so, and not seeing anything in the papa about it, he got frightened and hid them in a field, but not with a view to benefitting himself. He received a good character.
NOT GUILTY . CHAPMAN— Eighteen months' hard labour.
The COURT highly commended Mr. Levin for his conduct in the matter.
MR. YELVERTON Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
CHARLES WILLIAM LEES . I reside at 66, Glass Road, Wimbledon, and from the beginning of this year have been manager to Robert Winskell, a glazier and leadlight maker, and as such I keep the books—amongst the debtors when I became manager I found the prisoner—for several years previous to this and up to 1903 I had been a solicitor's clerk—in respect of the liability of £29 14s. 6d. of the prisoner to Mr. Winskell I myself served a writ upon him on the evening of April 14th—I said to him, "What are you going to do?" or words to that effect—he looked at
the writ and turned it over to the reverse side—seeing the amount, he said, "That is all right. I am sorry it has been owing so long"—I said, "Well, cannot we settle it? Come over and see us at Wimbledon and see if we cannot come to terms"—on April 21st he came to Mr. Winskell's place of business in Haydons Road, Wimbledon, just after 11 a.m.—I was out at the time of his arrival—on going to Mr. Winskell's house I found the prisoner in the parlour with Herbert Winskell, Mr. Winskell's son, who is in the business—as near as I can recollect, I said, "Halloa, Cartwright; what are you going to do?"—he said, "I have got nothing"—"Well, "I said, "look here, cannot we settle this matter? We do not want to run up expense"—he said, "No"—I said, "What about your property at New Maiden?"—he is a builder, and that is where he built—"Will you give the boss a charge over any equities you may have"—he said, "I cannot; it is out of my hands. The bank have foreclosed and are taking the rents"—I said, "What terms can you come to? Provided you do not enter an appearance and in order to help you and save expense, I will get the guv'nor to give you a letter and accept £1 a month. How will that suit you?"—he said, "I never intended to enter an appearance. I do not want to add to the original debt; I only want time to pay"—he had not entered an appearance at that time, but I did not know it then—he said, "The papers are in my solicitors' hands, but I will wire them not to enter an appearance. If they have, I will instruct them to withdraw"—on that occasion the safe was never opened and the books were never got out; in fact, we never went into the office where the books were kept—it is absolutely untrue that any sum of £18 17s. 10d. was mentioned or agreed upon—there was only one sum mentioned, and that was £29 14s. 6d.—I had not then instructed a solicitor, as I wanted to keep the expense down—on April 26th, one day prior to the date of judgment, I found he had entered an appearance of which we had received no notice—I then issued the Order 14 myself and took out a summons under it—I instructed a solicitor—I made an affidavit on April 28th, which was filed on May 9th [Stating that the witness was authorised by the plaintiff to make the affidavit; that the prisoner admitted the £29 14s. 6d. to be due and owing to the plaintiff, and informed the plaintiff's son in his presence on April 20th, 1905, that he did not intend to enter an appearance; and that he had no defence, but only wanted time]—April 20th is a clerical error; it should be April 21st—the prisoner then swore an affidavit on May 13th, which was filed on May 16th—[Par. 3] "On the 21st of April, 1905, I saw the said Charles William Lees, who acted on behalf of the plaintiff, and we examined the said accounts, and he agreed also that I was indebted to the plaintiff in the said sum of £18 17s. 10d. only"—we never went out of the front room to see the accounts at all—[Par. 5]: "I did not admit to the said Charles William Lees that the said sum of £29 14s. 6d. was due and owing to the plaintiff, nor did I inform the plaintiffs son in the presence of the said Charles William Lees on the 20th day of April, 1905, that I did not intend to enter an appearance, and that I only required time to pay. (6) The plaintiff agreed with me to accept payment of the said sum of
£18 17s. 10d. at the expiration of two years from the said 21st of April, 1905"—those affidavits came before the Master under Order 14 when Mr. Barrett attended, and the result was that the Master gave leave to defend—the summons is dated May 1st, 1905, with Master Wilberforce's initials and the date.
Cross-examined. I may not have said before the Magistrate that the prisoner turned over the writ when I served him with it, and saw the amount endorsed on the back of it; I think I said he saw the amount—I signed my depositions as correct, and 1 notice that there is nothing in them about his turning over the writ—he could not have said, "That is all right" if he had not seen the amount—I am positive that no other sum but £29 14s. 6d. was mentioned at the interview in April, and it is a matter about which I—could make no mistake—I have given evidence in a Court of Justice before—I do not work exclusively for Mr. Winskell—I work three days in the week for him, and then I work for a Mr. Ford—a few weeks ago I charged a man of thirty years' good character for embezzling money from Mr. Ford—I went through the books and found it out—I swore then that that prisoner came to me, admitted his guilt, and asked for forgiveness—Mr. Ford said the same thing—it was not said before the Magistrate, nor did it transpire that nothing of the sort had happened—the Jury stopped the case—that prisoner never denied that he had the money—he said that it was his—I do not see what that has got to do with this case—I was corroborated by another witness—I say now that what I said then was true—a witness said, "I do not recognise the prosecutor in the case. I gave the job to the prisoner"—that is why the Jury stopped it—I have been working for Mr. Ford a little over two months—he trade in the same line as Mr. Winskell—I kept the books, of which I have had years' experience—my next employment to a solicitor's clerk was a time keeper and book keeper to a builder some twelve months ago—the solicitor I was with was Mr. E. A. Newman, and he lived in my own house in Wimbledon and had offices at Walbrook—I was convicted at this Court and got twelve months for conspiracy to defraud on April 20th, 1903—the Recorder said he hoped I should get honest employment when I came out, and I have ever since.
Re-examined. Newman, to save himself, put me in the dock—he dictated a letter to me which I signed in his name, giving a reference for one of Newman's clients whom I knew—I was charged with having represented this individual to be a respectable man in Mr. Newman's name when he was not so—nothing was said to me about waiting for £18 17s. 10d. for two years.
eight or nine years—Lees is ray fathers book-keeper—I remember the prisoner dealing with my father—on April 21st he came to my father's place about 11 a.m., and I asked him into the front room to wait till Lees came, as he was out—he asked for Lees and I said he would not be long—I turned the phonograph on, and after about fifteen or twenty minutes Lees came in—he said, "Good-morning, Mr. Cartwright. What can we do in this matter?"—the prisoner said, "I cannot say, I am sure"—Lees said, "What about your rent at New Maiden; cannot we collect them?" and the prisoner said, "No, you cannot, as the bank has foreclosed on them"—we then came to the arrangement that he was to pay £1 a month—Lees asked him if he was going to put in an appearance, and he said, "No"—I am quite sure that no accounts were examined between him and Lees—that is all I can think of and remember.
ROBERT WINSKELL . I am a glass merchant, of l, Haydon's Road, Wimbledon—before Mr. Lees came I left the management of my business to my son; I simply signed a cheque or two or something of that sort—I do not work the accounts myself; I assist my eon—I know by the books that the prisoner owed me £29 14s. 6d., and it is the custom in my business to send accounts to our customers, and in the ordinary course they would be sent to the prisoner—this is a letter in the prisoner's handwriting, dated December 16th, 1902 (Staling that the prisoner had gone carefully through the account and found that he had made no error; and that he held a credit note for the £6 0s. 6s., for which he had not been credited)—I saw him in June, 1903, by appointment, when he showed me the credit note for £6 0s. 6d.—that reduced the original debt of £35 odd to £29 14s. 6d.—the only sum mentioned on that occasion was the £6 0s. 6d. with which I had not credited him—this is a letter of December 13th from the prisoner [Stating that the prisoner expected to be in the neighbourhood shortly, when he would be glad to compare his books with the delivery notes to see if any error could have occurred]—I did not agree on any occasion to take £18 17s. 10d.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about six or seven years, and I have been doing business with him for five years—I have done a lot of business with him, but I cannot remember whether part of it was done on behalf of a firm I was representing—it has been his practice from time to time to send me a cheque on account, and then I should give him a credit note.
The Jury here stopped the case, and returned a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted; MR. JENKINS Defended Barry and Carey.
FREDERICK WILLIAM MADDOCKS . I am a rate collector, of 33, Dublin Road, Forest Gate—about 12.55 p.m. on Saturday, May 27th, I was in Brook Street, Ratcliff; I had just finished collecting the rates for the day—I saw some men standing at the entrance of Blackpool Court as I came out of 135, Brook Street, and I was seized round my waist by a man whom I afterwards recognised as Bromley—he tried to throw me down—
he seized my pockets and covered my face with his arms; he got me back by my shoulders, and after a few seconds another man who was with him seized me by my throat and mouth—I am unable to identify the second man—he forced me on to the pavement and to break my fall I had to put my arm out and then I left my pocket uncovered—a third man, whom I identified as Barry, tore off a portion of my chain and sovereign purse and a seal pendant—I had a key chain with a bunch of keys at the end, and he pulled the key chain and tore away the keys, and took some loose silver that I had in my pocket—I had my eye-glasses broken and my mouth damaged; I had some false teeth which were forced out of position; I also lost a gold fountain pen, and the buttons were torn off my waistcoat and my shirt was torn—I was very much shaken by the fall—they carried off everything except a portion of the chain—they ran away—one or two people collected on the spot; the whole affair did not last more than a minute and a half—I pulled myself together and went into a barber's shop which I had previously left, and washed the blood from my face and put myself a bit tidy—I went with the policeman to the station and described as well as I could the men who had attacked me—I picked out Bromley and Barry the next morning.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. This is a very rough neighbourhood—there were only four or five men; not more than that—a boy or two, a woman, and two men collected round—there was a van with a tilt to it which made a screen—I cannot recognise Carey as the one who took me by the throat—I cannot say that he did anything—I cannot say whether Barry and Carey came up to me when I went back to the barber's shop—the barber was so frightened that he shut the door, and a man whom I afterwards knew to be Barry knocked at it—I saw the man who knocked at the door, and he bore a great resemblance to Barry—I should not like to say it was not Barry—I cannot say what he came for—some body had a handkerchief which was offered to the barber; I cannot say who it was—my face was bleeding—I had just pulled myself together, and it all happened within a minute of the occurrence—there were three or four men outside, and one of them had a handkerchief—I asked the general question, "Is there anyone here who saw me robbed?"—I did not ask particularly the man with the handkerchief—I was in a condition to recognise nobody—I think a waistcoat button was handed to the barber—my recollection is that a child brought it into the shop.
Re-examined. I was very much flurried and upset; I could hardly speak, because my teeth had been forced into my gums, and I could not get them out.
ALBERT HELSON (Sergeant H.) At 9 p.m. on May 27th I arrested Carey and Bromley—I said they would be arrested for robbery with violence on the same afternoon, and stealing a portion of a gold chain, a seal, a fountain pen, and a pair of eye-glasses—Bromley said, "Of course you fix on me; if anything goes wrong you think I am in it"—Carey made no remark—they were taken to the station, and detained all night—the next morning the prosecutor picked out Bromley and Barry from fourteen other men with just a faint hesitation; he touched them very easily—they were charged—he did not pick out Carey.
WILLIAM MCCARTHY . I am a fishmonger in the employ of John Arnold, and reside at 146, Brook Street, Ratcliff—about 1 p.m. on Saturday, May 27th, I was outside my shop when I saw a gentleman lying flat on the ground with Carey, whom I know, holding his throat, and Barry holding his leg—after it was done Bromley came up and gave the barber a handkerchief to wipe the gentleman's face—I only Raw two men robbing the prosecutor—I did not see them take anything from his pocket, nor did I see Carey take anything with him—I did not see a bunch of keys—at the police station I picked out Carey and Barry from about a dozen men.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I did not say before the Magistrate that Carey took a bunch from the prosecutor's pockets—I remember accurately what took place—I remember now that I said before the Magistrate that he did take a bunch of keys away from him—I did not see the keys; I did not see all that took place—there were about four men present at the assault—I did not see any crowd at all—I did not follow any of those men; they walked up White Horse Street—they did not run away—I said before the Magistrate that Barry ran off; that is true—I understand what it is I am saying, and that I am an important witness—Carey ran off as well—the prosecutor went into the shop; I saw Barry outside—he and Carey both came back again, and Bromley went off—Barry and Carey said nothing to me—the barber shut the door—I did not hear the prosecutor say anything to Barry and Carey—I remember now he did say to them, "Has anyone seen me assaulted?"—I swear 1 heard that said—I did not see either of them do anything to help the prosecutor—I saw Barry produce a handkerchief for the purpose of helping the prosecutor—I did not say anything when the prosecutor asked if anybody had seen him assaulted; I did not like to—I was not frightened—I have heard people mention the prisoners' names—the policemen told me their names—I heard Barry and Carey's names at the Thames Police Court—I told the Magistrate I knew their faces, but not Carey's name; I knew Barry's name—I mean to say that I knew Carey's, but not Barry's name—I told the policeman something about the case—he asked me my name and address—he did not ask me whether it was Barry or Carey; he asked me whether 1 knew the men.
Re-examined. I know a man named Holland; he has been speaking to me about this case—I am not afraid of giving evidence—I am still with the fishmonger.
Cross-examined by Bromley. I saw you in Court after the robbery with some other men—I did not tell the Magistrate that I saw you standing at the corner when the robbery was being done.
WILLIAM CARIDLAND (Detective H.) About 9 p.m. on the Saturday evening, in company with another officer, 1 arrested Carey and Bromley—Bromley said, "Of course you always fix on me for anything that is done down here.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I am certain I was not present at the identification—I cannot say that 1 said before the Magistrate, "The prosecutor picked out Bromley and Barry, but not Carey"—I remember now that I was present, and I did tell the Magistrate that—the prosecutor hesitated slightly—he walked down the rank, and coming back he put his hand on Bromley, and then Barry—Carey was in the rank as well—there were about fourteen others.
ARTHUR HILLS . (247 H.) About 12.40 p.m. on May 27th I was in the neighbourhood of Blackpool Court when I saw Bromley, Carey, and Barry, and another man standing in Brook Street—when I approached them they walked towards the scene of the robbery—I then turned off from Brook Street into the Orchard—about 1.5 p.m. I saw Carey and Barry at the bottom of the Causeway—I then walked down to the scene of the robbery, not knowing it had been committed—I saw a crowd standing there—I enquired what was the matter, and somebody replied that Carey and Barry had been fighting—after I had been there three or four minutes the prosecutor came up and informed me that he had been robbed—I did not arrest the prisoners, nor did I see anything of the robbery.
Cross-examined by Bromley. I did not tell the Magistrate that I did not see you all that day.
Cross-examined by JENKINS. When I saw Barry and Carey five minutes after the robbery they were about sixty or eighty yards from the scene of it—I passed them—I should say there were fifty people there—I did not see McCarthy there—the prosecutor was coming down from White Horse Street towards the scene of the robbery—he was about ten yards away when I first saw him—I should not think McCarthy's shop was further than ten yards away—the boy did not come and say anything to me.
ALBERT CARVELL (233 H.) About 1 p.m. on Saturday, May 27th, I was at the top end of Stepney Causeway in Commercial Road, and then I walked down Brook Street; I was on point duty—when I got to the bottom of Stepney Causeway I saw Barry and Bromley standing at the corner of the Causeway, Brook Street end, about 1.10 p.m.—I walked about twice up and down the causeway, when I saw a strange man whom I do not know, and Bromley and Carey walking down the Causeway towards Brook Street end about 1.20 p.m.—I heard the strange man say to Bromley (I believe it was) rather loud, "This job is going to do us no good this afternoon"—Bromley replied, "Shut up, you b——fool; there is a copper over there listening. You will put him on us"—I knew nothing of the robbery then—I afterwards saw them in custody at the police station—I know Bromley and Carey, and I am sure it was they that I saw.
Cross-examined by Bromley. I said before the Magistrate that I saw you coming through Stepney Causeway with two men about 2 p.m.—Carey was with you—I have never spoken to you, to my knowledge, or to the other two prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I made a note of what I heard when I heard of the arrest some hours afterwards—it struck me at the time that these men had done something wrong—I applied the words to this
case when I heard of it—I spoke about it to the officers in charge of the case and they asked me to attend at the Police Court.
By the COURT. My note is, "I saw Bromley and Carey in company with another man walking down the Causeway towards Brook Street. The other man said to Bromley, 'Look here, this job is going to do us no good this afternoon.' Bromley replied, 'Shut up, you b—fool; there is a copper over there listening. You will put him on us.' "
Bromley's statement before the Magistrate: "I was knocking about outside Carrington's coal wharf all day till the men got paid. I was drinking in with Carrington's men till half-past 6. I was coming through Brook Street and met Carey, and was walking along when two detectives asked me to go to the station on suspicion."
Barry: "I want witnesses."
Carey: "I reserve my defence. I call witnesses now."
Barry, in his defence on oath, said that the scene of the robbery was where men congregated to be taken on to unload coal from the ships; that at 12.15 p.m. he was at the bottom of the Causeway with Carey, about eighty yards from where the robbery had occurred; that he and Carey saw a crowd of people; that they went up, and on his inquiring of the prosecutor what was the matter he said that he had been robbed; that seeing he was dusty he (Barry) offered him his handkerchief to wipe hit face, and gave the barber a waistcoat button which he found lying on the ground; that the prosecutor asked him and Carey whether they had seen him robbed, and that they said, "No"; that sometime afterwards he heard that Carey had been arrested, he concluded for drunkenness; and was going to bail him out when he was arrested; and that the prosecutor had picked him out because he recognised him as the man who had offered him the handkerchief.
Carey, in his defence on oath, said that what Barry had stated was true; that after the robbery he came up with him and saw the prosecutor outside the shop; and that McCarthy's evidence was false.
Evidence in Defence.
KARL GOLDSTEIN . I am a barber, of 135, Brook Street—I did not see anything of the robbery—the prosecutor came into the shop and told me that he had been robbed—his clothes were upset and dusty, and he bore traces of having been robbed—Barry and Carey came in, and one started cleaning him while the other produced a handkerchief—the prosecutor said to them, "I think some of you has been there in it, and they said, "No, sir; if we had seen it we would be too willing to assist you"—he said, "Did any of you see me robbed?"—the prosecutor never suggested that Barry and Carey did it—I have known the prosecutor for ten years—I am not unfriendly to him—soon after he had gone a policeman came—I did not give him Barry or Carey's name—I said they had been in the shop.
Cross-examined by MR. GREENFIELD I did not notice if the prosecutor had glasses on when he came in; I was too excited—I know Barry and Carey—I am not afraid of giving evidence—there was only him, the two prisoners, me and a girl in the shop—outside the shop it was crowded; I had to close the door.
ELIZABETH O'BRIEN . I am the wife of Patrick O'Brien, and live at No. 5 Blackpool Court—I remember the day of the robbery—the prosecutor came to the bottom of the court and called my little girl—I saw two big men knock him down—I never saw Barry and Carey, whom I know by eight, there at all—I am not related to them in any way—I ran up the court, screamed, and fainted.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that I saw no robbery, but I see the two men knock the prosecutor down—I know Holland as a neighbour—I am not living with him—I know Barry and Carey as walking up and down the neighbourhood—I do not know Bromley at all—I cannot say whether he was there or not—I never drink with the prisoners.
Re-examined. I live with my husband, and am the mother of five little children.
Bromley, in his defence, said that he had not seen Barry at all that day; and that he only met Carey when walking home with his (Bromley's) wife.
Bromley then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony at the Clerkenwell Sessions on May 13th, 1902; Barry to a conviction of felony at the Clerkenwell Sessions on April 1st. 1895; and Carey to a conviction of felony at the Thames Police Court on March 23rd, 1903. BROMLEY, against whom seventeen previous convictions were proved— Six years' penal servitude. BARRY against whom one previous conviction was proved— Judgment respited, so that his character when in the Army might be inquired into. CAREY, against whom a number of previous convictions were proved— Five years' penal servitude. They were stated to be the most desperate men in the neighbourhood.
MR. HOLFORD KNIGHT Prosecuted.
SARAH GRIMES . I am prisoner's wife, and live at 27, Greenacres Street, Limehouse—my occupation is selling old clothes—between 2.30 and 3 p.m. on May 2nd I came home and saw my husband standing on the opposite side of the road—when I got in he followed me—he asked me where I had been and I said, "I do not know where I have been to"—he said, "That is no answer. You are drunk. I will make you tell me where you have been. I will put you through it"—he then paid me with his fist, and held me against the wall and kicked me all about the body—he was not drunk then—he is a labourer on the canal—this is my marriage certificate (Produced)—I have got two little girls, one eight years old and the other nine—I was married fifteen years ago—I have had eleven children altogether, of which I have only three left—on the Wednesday morning I washed and dressed the children for school—he kept the doors fastened and put things against them so that I should not go out—he then paid me the same way again and kicked me—I screamed, and holloaed "Murder," and my landlady called out from downstairs, "I will not have this going on in my place"—my husband holloaed out, "Keep down out of my place. If anyone comes in this place I will chop them down"—
about 5 p.m. that day I went to the hospital, when my leg was bandaged up, and a plaster was put on my back—on Saturday morning I was getting worse, so I said to my husband, "I shall have to go to the hospital, "and he said, "I don't care where you go. I have got more feeling for a dog than I have got for you"—I then went to the hospital—I have still got my leg bandaged—he has been away ever since—he was locked up on May 6th, the same day that I went into the infirmary—the first day after he had been remanded and was on bail he came to see me—I said, "You know what you done with me, and that is what has brought me here," and he said, "Never mind; what I have done I can suffer for"—he was out for a fortnight on bail and he came two or three times—he came one Sunday and wanted me to come out—I was in bed, and was still very bad, and I said, "I cannot come out"—he said, "When do you expect to get up?"—I said, "I do not know; I cannot tell you"—he said, "When you come out, if you come up against me, I mean to do for you. I will put your light bang out"—I left the hospital this Monday.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was sitting on the bed when you wanted me to get up and come out.
HENRY ARCHIBALD STONEHAM . I am a registered medical practitioner in Commercial Road, and am medical officer for the parish—from information that I received I went about 7 p.m. on Saturday, May 2nd, to 27, Greenacre Road, where I saw Sarah Grimes in a state of extreme nervous, prostration and fear—she complained that she had been knocked about—I examined her, and found a contused wound over her right eye, a bruise on her right buttock about as large as the back of my hand; a bruise in the right lumbar region about the size of two of my fingers; two bruises, on the outer part of her right thigh; an extensive bruise on the lower part of her right leg, half-way up the leg down to the ankle, and some swelling in the centre of it, with some slight inflammation of some of the veins—"he was lying on a mattress, and suffered a good deal of pain on movement—this condition might have been produced by kooks or by some blunt instrument—to have caused the bruise on the lower part of the leg she must have been repeatedly kicked—I thought she was quite bad enough to send her to the infirmary—I should not think she would be quite right yet as regards the bruise on the lower part of her leg; I have not examined her since.
ELIZABETH TAYLOR . I am the wife of George Taylor, and live at 27, Greenacre Street, Limehouse—the prisoner and his wife have been lodgers of mine for six months—in the afternoon of May 2nd the prisoner was standing outside the door, when his wife came up with her clothes, and they went into the house—after that I heard cries of "Police! Murder!"—about 11 a.m. the next day I heard more screams, so I called up the stairs that I could not have her screaming in the place, and I should have to get a constable—the prisoner told me to mind my own business—at 6 p.m. or 7 p.m. that day Mrs. Grimes showed me her leg, and I advised her to go to the hospital.
of rags on the first floor—the room was scantily furnished, but clean——she appeared to be very ill indeed, and was in pain—about 7.30 p.m. I found the prisoner detained at Limehouse police station, and I charged him with causing grievous bodily harm to his wife—he made no answer.
Cross-examined. There was a clean bed and bedstead in the room.
Re-examined. I fetched her from the hospital last Sunday.
By the COURT. They have discharged her, but with instructions to apply in the ordinary way if she chose—she was rather anxious to get to her children, and be at work again—the children are in the workhouse, and are very happy there—she is not really strong enough to get to work yet.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am sorry it occurred, and should like to have it settled here."
The prisoner, in a written statement, said that he and his wife lived very happily together until the last year, when she gave way to drink; that the injuries to her leg were caused by her falling downstairs when drunk; that she also had varicose veins; that on May 2nd she came home drunk, and that they quarrelled; that he lost his temper and struck her; that a struggle then ensued; that the next morning she started "nagging" at him, and on his telling her to hold her tongue she screamed "Murder"; that he had endeavoured to make it up with her in the hospital, but she would not do so; and that on one occasion she had had delirium tremens.
ELIZABETH TAYLOR (Re-examined by the COURT). I have never seen Mrs. Grimes the worse for drink—if she had been in the habit of coming in drunk I should have seen it, as I saw her nearly every day—he does not drink anything out of the way—the children were well fed and clean.
Cross-examined. One night I think you both had had a little drop to drink, and she asked me to let her stop downstairs with me till you had gone up, as she was afraid to go upstairs, and I allowed her to stop with me until you had gone to sleep—she came in about a quarter of an hour before you did—the next night she slept under your bed all night; I heard the children pulling the boxes from under it.
Cross-examined. On the day of the row I had only one glass of bitter.
GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner had been ill-using his wife, by whom he was kept, for two years. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Thames Police Court in August, 1901. Twelve previous convictions for drunkenness were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude.
FOURTH COURT and
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, June 27th, 28th, 29th and 30th, and Saturday
and Monday, July 1st and 3rd, 1905.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
548. WILLIAM SCULLY (32), ALFRED PRICE (32), and FREDERICK PEARCE (26) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully and wilfully breaking and destroying a plate glass window, value £13 13s. 4d., the property of James Spence & Co., Limited .
It was stated that there was a previous conviction against Pearce. Two months' hard labour each.
549. WILLIAM GEORGE MOSS (29), HARRY MOSS (27), ARTHUR HENRY CASTLE and ARTHUR CASTLE, Stealing twentytwo bales of India-rubber belonging to Page, Son & East, Limited, of the value of £600. Second Count, receiving those goods, knowing them to be stolen.
MR. HORACE AVORY, K. C. MR. BODKIN, MR. SYMMONS and MR. BIRON Prosecuted; MR. MARSHALL HALL, K. C., and MR. MATHEWS appeared for Arthur Henry Castle; MR. MUIR and MR. FULTON for Arthur Castle; and MR. LEYCESTER for William George Moss and Harry Moss.
WILLIAM GEORGE WHITE . I live at Burgees Street, Southampton, and am a clerk to the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company—part of my duty is to see that cargo comes (from their steamers into the docks—on March 4th the Clyde was in the docks at Southampton—I got the manifest from the purser—part of the cargo was india-rubber, consisting of 1,047 bales—they were all landed by March 8th, and the different lots arranged according to destination—amongst the 1,047 bales I sent off thirty-two bales marked K.F. and J., with an arrow through it, underneath, 111 marked "K & F./M.C.F.C." seven marked "K & F./"B.C" thirty-eight marked "H.H/E.R., and twenty-nine marked "K & F./J.H.A.F."—these were all consigned to London.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. The dominant mark on all, with the exception of the thirty-eight, is "K. & F."
ARTHUR ASHUR . I live at Southampton, and am a landing clerk to the London and South Western Railway Company—on March 4th the Clyde was berthed—I had the manifest and made a summary of the 1,047 packages of india-rubber, showing the number of each mark—some of the bales were put into three railway trucks which were put into the shunting shed to go up to London on March 9th—I have not the numbers of the trucks.
BENJAMIN GRAY . I am a landing clerk employed by the London, & South Western Railway Company at Southampton Docks—on March 9th I had instructions to see to a number of bales of India-rubber—three trucks were loaded with 228 bales, all consigned to Bull Wharf—I produce the loading notes.
JAMES ELWICK . I live at Wyvil Street, South Lambeth, London, and am foreman checker at the L. & S.W. Railway Company's depot, Nine Elms—on Friday, March 10th, I checked three trucks of India-rubber, 228 bales altogether, with the loading notes, and found them correct—
they were consigned to Bull Wharf—the lightermen for the company are Page, Son & East—they were signed for to me—they got those 228 bales—this is the note they gave to show they got them from me.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. The trucks are run into our goods station at Nine Elms—I tallied out the contents of the trucks into the barge—the packages were shot out of the truck straight into the barge which was lying alongside the wharf—this delivery order was made out by the railway company and sent to me—I checked the marks on the bales as they came out of the trucks—the man who gave this receipt was F. Seaman—he was not called as a witness at the Police Court, although he was there—he is Messrs. Page & East's foreman at the wharf—I am prepared to say that I saw every one of those 228 bales put into the barge—these figures "228" on this yellow form are Seaman's—I believe it was mid-day when I delivered these over—the delivery might have taken about 2 or 2 1/2 hours—the bales varied in size—I cannot say the weight of them—some might weigh 1 1/4 cwt. or 1 1/2 cwt., and some more—the weight would not come under my notice—I think they all weighed over a hundredweight each—they were all put on board the barge, covered over with a tarpaulin sheet which was nailed down—after they were tallied into the barge my business with them was finished—I saw Messrs. Page's people nail down the tarpaulin—the nails were put in close and tight—nothing could have been taken from under the tarpaulin except by tearing up some of the nails and disarranging the tarpaulin.
Re-examined. I do not know anything about the unloading—if there had been less than the 228 bales I should have reported it at once—after we left, one of Messrs. Page's representatives was left in charge.
WILLIAM BAILEY . I am a laborer employed by Messrs. Page, Son & East—on March 18th I assisted to load the dumb barge Sarah at Nine Elms Wharf with bales of India-rubber—there were three truck loads, 228 bales—I got a loading note—I helped to fasten the barge down with tarpaulin after it was loaded—it was nailed down—the 228 bales were all safely on board before it was nailed down.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. There were two of us working at the loading—we started at 2.30 and finished at 5—the bales were stowed in the centre of the barge and filled her—when the filling was completed we sheeted it at once—it was done carefully—nothing could have been got out without disturbing the nails—the bales were of different sizes; I should say the average was about 3 feet square; some weighed 3 cwts.—I could not carry one by myself—I dragged them into the barge with my hands—I did not use clutch irons—the smallest one was about 2. feet square—I could not lift that—the lightest weighed well over 1 1/4 cwt., probably 2 cwts., and the heaviest about 3 cwts.—I did not see the barge go away—I did not go down the river with it.
Re-examined. I did not see any of the bales weighed.
JOSEPH EDWARD BYRNE . I am a barge shifter employed by Page, Son & East at Nine Elms Wharf—on Saturday, March 11th, between 4.30 and 5 a.m., I shifted the barge Sarah out to be towed away—the cargo was then covered over—I had seen it the day before—it had not been disturbed at all—there is a night watchman in charge of the wharf.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I saw the barge covered over with tarpaulin and nailed down—it was all properly done—there were people on the barge in the night, shifting different craft about—it was used as a sort of pontoon to the other craft lying about—if the tarpaulin had been tampered with I should have noticed it—you would have to lift a corner up to get out any of the bales, but I saw no sign of this having been done.
THOMAS COOMBS . I am a lighterman employed by Page, Son & East—on March 11th, at 6 a.m., I went on board the Sarah—at that time the covering was all secure—I remained on her while she was being towed to the Bull Wharf—when I arrived there 1 handed in these forwarding notes at the office—this was before 8 o'clock—I remained on board till 4.30 p.m. on the Saturday—everything was safe up to that time—I did not see the barge again till 7 o'clock on the Monday—it appeared then not to have been disturbed, but a man could have got at the cargo by pulling up the tail end of the tarpaulin without disturbing the nails—I began to unload about 11 a.m. on the Monday morning, and then found twenty-two bales missing—I reported the loss.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. The tarpaulin covered over the barge, but it was not tied tightly over it—the goods were in the middle of the barge, but at each end of it the cloth remained slack—when I took off the cloth there was no appearance of anything being missing—the first I knew of it was when I finished my tally.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. The bales were all of different sizes—I should think they varied from 2 ft to 3 ft long—I did not try to lift one—the men at the wharf unloaded them—the object of the tarpaulin is to keep the goods dry—it is possibly to prevent people tampering with them—it is possible that the twenty-two bales were taken out of the barge whilst it was lying alongside Bull Wharf.
Re-examined. The end of the tarpaulin hung over the gratings of the barge, and that is where a man could have got underneath and taken out a bale.
GEORGE HARROD . I am a lighterman's apprentice—on March 11th I had orders to look after the barge Sarah at Bull Wharf—I got to the wharf between 9 and 9.30 p.m.—she was lying along the wharf one barge off—when I got there I saw two men sitting on the head sheets—I cannot say what they were like—one was tall and the other was short—I cannot say how they were dressed, but they had dark clothes—one had a "P. and O." hat on; that is a cap with a peak to it—I called out to them, "Who are you?"—they did not answer for the first half-dozen times; at last they called out, "Halloa"—I said, "What are you doing there?"—there was no answer—I went on to Southwark Bridge to see whether the men were stopping on the barge, when I see a boat row away from the barge straight across the river with two men in it—I could not see anything in the boat—this was about 9.30 p.m.—it was dark—I went to get a boat to go to the barge—I could not get across from the wharf without one, as there was 3 or 4 ft. of mud—I got to the barge between 11 and 12, and stayed on board all night till 1 o'clock midday—I came back to the barge on Sunday night about 7.30, and remained on board all night till 5 a.m.—I told Charles Coombs about the two men on Monday morning about 7 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. At the Police Court I said, "I saw nothing in the boat but the two men"—that is correct—at the Police Court I was shown a number of men in a row, to see if I could pick out the men I had seen on the barge—I did not recognise anyone—the two men Moss were there, but I did not pick either of them out—I know William Moss—I work with him, and I know the other one by sight, so that if they had been the two men I saw that night on the barge I should have recognised them—they were not the men.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I was in charge of the barge on the Saturday night, Sunday and Sunday night right through—nobody told me there was about £4,000 worth of stuff on board the barge, and I did not know it—I cannot say that the goods were left in such a condition that anybody could have got underneath and dragged off the bales—I did not see the bales when unloaded.
Re-examined. At 9.30 p.m. on March 11th it was quite dark.
By the COURT. I cannot say that the two men I saw sitting on the barge were the two men I saw rowing away.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I cannot give the weights—each bale is weighed separately.
FRANK IZOD . I am weighing clerk at Bull Wharf—I weighed the cargo of the Sarah on March 13th—I have got the number of each mark—there were five bales of "K. F." missing; that is twenty-seven instead of thirtytwo, thirteen missing of "K.F:,/F.C"., one missing of "K.F./B.C." and one missing of "H.H/EK.," and two others, twenty-two bales missing—I have not got the weights of the missing ones, but I have of the others.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. The weight of each bale varied from 1/2 cwt. up to 2 cwts.—the weight of the whole 228 was not advised, so I cannot give it.
WILLIAM JAMES GRAVATT . I am a carman and contractor at Paradise Street, Rotherhithe—I have done a carting job for Henry Moss and also for William Moss—I remember Henry Moss coming to me one Sunday in March last about 7 p.m.—he asked me could I do a job in the morning—I agreed to do so—I sent for my carman, Hepper, and left Moss to arrange with him—I saw Henry Moss the next day, when he paid me 10s.—I have not got the job booked, but I fix the day by the next job I had to it, which was to unload a load of iron—it was March 13th that my carman went for that, so that the Sunday would be the day previous, March 12th.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I have not been asked this before, so have not said it—the following job of iron is booked—it was for a regular monthly customer—Henry Moss has several brothers, and I do work off and on for all of them—I have only done a job or two for Henry Moss to the best of my recollection—I have no note in my books of the jobs I did for his brothers—it is not unusual for people to come on Sundays with orders—I do pleasure work on Sundays—I did not pay particular attention to the matter at the time—I was never asked about it till the police came on May 25th.
Re-examined. When the police came I sent for the carman, and it was after that that I recollected the job I had done for Moss—I have the book here with the entry of the iron job done on Monday, March 13th.
JOHN EDWARD HEPPER . I am a carman to Mr. Gravatt—I know the two Mosses—I remember doing a job for them on a Monday morning—I fix the date by a load of iron job I did, which was about the 13th—it may have been April or not, I cannot say—it was at 5 a.m.—I went to Batter-sea—Harry Moss told me to on the Sunday night at my master's place—at Battersea I saw the two Mosses, who are in the dock—Harry Moss told me to draw down to the dock alongside Price's Candle Works—I had two cobs to my van, one a dark bay and the other a chestnut—when I drew down the two Mosses loaded me up with nineteen or twenty bags—they were about 2 1/2 feet square each—they were not to say clean, they were damp—when loaded I covered up and drove off—I was told by Harry Moss to take them to the end of Burdett Street, Limehouse, by the railway arch—there is a water trough near there—I knew the spot and went there—in Burdett Road 1 had breakfast—the two Mosses had not driven with me—when I came out of the coffee shop after my breakfast 1 saw them—I met William Moss first and we went and had a drink together—I cannot name the public-house—it was some minutes' walk off—after that I went back to the van and looked for the load—the van was a few yards further on than where 1 left it, but it was unloaded—I spoke to Harry Moss about it, saying, "Where is the load, sir?"—he said, "Where have you been?"—I said, "Having a drink along with the dark one"—with that he said, "Well, I have been looking for it," and made some other remarks, and I said, "You have unloaded," and took no more notice of it—I then went back to my master—the same evening I saw Harry Moss again and he gave me 2s. for beer money.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I am regularly employed by Mr. Gravatt—I often do jobs for the man who wanted the iron job done—the first I knew about this matter was when the police came on May 25th—I talked the matter over with Mr. Gravatt to try and remember—when the police came I remembered nearly all 1 had done, but I could not remember the date—I said at the Police Court that I could not remember the date except that it was on a Sunday—I do not remember easing at the Police Court, "The police were with me about an hour, I had a little difficulty in recollecting the transaction, they gave me every assistance to recall it to my memory"—the police questioned me and tried to get me to remember what happened for about an hour—there is nothing unusual in starting work at 5 a.m.—I got to Battersea about 6; I did not take much notice of the time—the loading up there took about five or ten minutes—I got to Limehouse about 7.30—while I was having my breakfast the van was standing outside—I finished my breakfast a little before 8, and when I came out I saw William Moss—I went and had a drink with him, which occupied about seven to ten minutes, and when I got back the van was unloaded—I then drove off to Gravatt's Yard.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. The two Mosses helped me to load at Battersea—I placed the load in the van, the Mosses putting it on the van—they chucked it up one at each end—they carried it in their hands one at
a time—the van was within three or four feet of the bales—I put them in the middle of the van—I did not notice if there were any marks on the bales; I cannot say if there were any—I did not say before the Magistrate that there were no marks upon them—I said I could not see the marks on them—nobody has spoken to me since I gave my evidence about marks—I saw no marks as far as I am aware—the bags were sound once and looked as if they were sewn round—there were no holes in them that I could see, and nothing sticking through—a full load for my van would be about two tons—when I got to the water-trough my horses' heads were turned towards London—I had not turned round—I had gone down the Burdett Road and then came back along Commercial Road and got just clear of the bridge—when I had my breakfast my horses were unattended—I generally put a chain on a wheel when I stop—I did on this occasion—I had a small lemonade in the public-house; that was all, one drink—I did not drink it right down at once—I had a conversation with Moss in the public-house—I asked him bow far 1 had to go and all that—we were waiting for Harry—the horses and van were on the same side of the road as I had left them when I got back, but they were six or seven yards farther on—the chain was still on the wheel—I had no van boy—it would be possible to unload the van into another van brought alongside and do it in a few minutes—it all depends how many were helping to unload—supposing there were two it could be done in five minutes—it could have been done during the time I was in the public-house.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. When I left the van to have the drink, the stuff was all on it—I see Castle's gateway in the Commercial Road on the plan—there would not have been time while I was having my drink to back the horses into the gateway, unload the cart, and bring it out again to where it was—they could have drawn the van in—it would have taken half an hour to back my horses in, but you could turn them in in five minutes—I have told you the times as near as I can recollect.
Re-examined. I got back to Gravatt's yard about 11.30—when I found the van unloaded Harry Moss turned and said to me, "Tell your governor I will see him when I call round"—I then drove off—I know Castle's Yard—the van was nearer Castle's Yard when I came back from the drink than where I had left it—when I came out from my breakfast the only Moss I saw was William.
By the COURT. When I loaded up the van the Mosses put the stuff on to the cart, but I did not notice where they took it from—there was a heap on the ground close to the water's edge.
EDWARD ISRAEL . I am manager to Messrs. Hyman, of Portland Wharf, St. Ann's Road, Limehouse—they are metal, rubber and waste paper merchants—on Monday, March 13th, in consequence of a message from a clerk I went to the desk in my office and found a sample of raw rubber—it was very similar to this sample (Produced)—I did not at the time see the man who had brought it, but half an hour afterwards I did—it was William Moss—I had not known him before—he said he had 25 cents of rubber for sale—I said, "Is it your rubber?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Who are you?"—he said, "I represent a firm of the name of
Moss & Co."—I said, "What address?"—he said, "162, Old Kent Road"—I then said, "You don't look like a man to possess this weight of raw rubber, surely"—he said, "It is our property; we have it for disposal"—I said, "Where can it be seen?"—he said, "We have got it on a van round the corner"—my place of business is very near Burdett Road—I said to him, "If you will wait two or three minutes till I go through my morning correspondence I will give you my attention and go and see it"—I looked through my letters and then went with him to Burdett Road—I there saw a pair horse van with bags of raw rubber—the front part of the van was covered with tarpaulin—there was a little loose rubber at the back of the van which had apparently tumbled out—I then saw Harry Moss—I merely looked at the rubber, I did not examine it; I could see what it was—I did not notice any name on the van, but I saw there was a name which finished up with a "t," or "tt" I thought it was—I saw possibly two or three bags uncovered—I cannot remember seeing any marks on them—I may possibly have done so, but I do not quite remember—if there was a mark at all it was a "B" and something—I said to William Moss, "If this is your property you had better take it to the address which you have given me and send the firm a letter in the ordinary way, offering it for sale, and we will immediately give it our consideration"—they said they would do that, and with that they went away with the van—I saw the driver of the van—he was with it all the time and he drove it away—I followed the van and saw it go as for as the water-trough in Commercial Road, which is on the left under the railway arch—I saw one of the two Mosses go into Castle's—I then went back to my office—the same afternoon I went to the address which William Moss had given me, 162, Old Kent Road—it was a tin merchant's premises of the name of Katz & Co.—William Moss was dressed in dark clothes and had a cap on with a peak—afterwards at the Wapping police station, before I gave evidence at the Police Court, I was shown 4 or 5 lbs. of rubber by the police—it was similar to the rubber I saw on the 13th—I should think there were about 3 cwts. loose in the van that I saw.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I had never seen William Moss or Henry Moss before—my clerk Laing had told me about William Moss having been to our place on the Saturday before—he told me that when I came on the Monday—I got to the office about 9.30—ten minutes after Laing spoke to me—I have not mentioned before that I said to William Moss that he did not look like a man to have that quantity of rubber—when I saw the van for the first time it was standing on the right-hand side of Burdett Road—I say Henry Moss was there then—one of the horses attached to the van was grey colour; I am not certain as to the other one—I said at the Police Court it was a strawberry roan—the rubber that was lying loose in the van was in big lumps—I thought there was something fishy about the transaction—it did not occur to me that it would be useful to make a note of the name on the van—the van went away and the two Mosses walked together on the pavement—the driver drove the van at a walking pace—I followed behind—I say that one of them went into Castle's—I have never said that both went in—I cannot
give the date when the police first came to me about this matter—it was Sergeant Helden who came—it was about a fortnight after I first saw Moss—I first mentioned to the police about Moss going to Castle's some time after; it was about three or four weeks before I was called as a witness—I gave my evidence at the Police Court on May 19th—it was about a week before that that I first mentioned about Moss going to Castle's—I did not tell Helden that both Mosses went to Castle's—I cannot remember if, when I returned to the office, one of the Mosses was still standing by the van—I did not see either of them go into any public-house—I had never seen either before—I saw Henry Moss again the same afternoon at the address he had given, Matson Street—the address had been left in the office on the Saturday previous to the call at the office on the Monday—I am under the impression I said this at the Police Court—I told Inspector Reed and Sergeant Helden about this—I told Henry Moss at Matson Street that I had called at 162, Old Kent Road, and that it was a fictitious address—I said, "What have you done with the rubber?"—he said, "I have sold it, but that don't matter"—I then went away—I told the police about this—it was about 3 to 3.30 when I called at Matson Street on Monday, March 13th—I saw nobody else there—the next time I saw them was at Wapping police station—that was on Saturday, May 13th—I went with my clerk Laing—I saw a number of men in a row—they were working men—I picked William Moss out—he had on a peak cap—others had as well—I said at the Police Court, "William Moss bad a peak cap on when I saw him at the station; Henry had a cap, I did not notice if anyone else there had peak caps on"—I could not have said, "Henry had a peak cap when I first saw him"—I could not have heard those words read to me, otherwise I should not have signed the deposition—my hearing is all right—I cannot swear I did not say it—if I did say so it was not true—I did say I believe that I never noticed any one else at the station with a peak cap on—I now say there were other people—the statement should have read that William Moss had a peak cap on when I saw him when he called at the wharf and I saw him and I picked him out with the other men with a peak cap on; Henry Moss had a cap both times—what I said at the Police Court was not accurate—a peak cap is a cap with a shiny peak—I did not notice Henry's dress at all—William had a serge suit on—I could not recognise the driver.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I did not notice that a chain was on the wheel—there is a public-house right facing the water trough, I do not know the name—my office is 200 yards from that spot—it took me five minutes to walk from my office to Burdett Road—I stood by the van for two or three minutes only—I followed it down Commercial Road—at the horse-trough I saw the van draw up—I did not notice the carman get down—Henry and William were walking on the left-hand side of Commercial Road on the pavement—they were together—they parted at the horse trough—I believed one remained by the van—I do not know which one—I was about twenty-five yards off on the other side of the road—I cannot say which one went into Castle's, although William had a peak cap and the other had a cap without a peak—I stayed there for about
a minute—I first heard the name "Gravatt" at the Police Court, after I had given my evidence—I swear I never heard it before I gave my evidence at the Police Court—the police, when they were taking my statement, asked me if 1 had noticed the name on the van and I told them I did not know it—it was a van that could carry about two and a half tons or three tons—it was fully loaded up from front to back—three to four cwts. Were sticking out from under the sheet—the sheet was not big enough to cover it—the sheet was slightly raised—I said before the Magistrate, "I saw the mark 'K' on a bag"—that is right—my memory is more refreshed now—your mentioning the initial has refreshed my memory—I said "K. C." before the Magistrate—I am quite certain of that now—I am now quite certain that it was not "B"—it was not "F"—I cannot swear that—I now say it was "K. F."—it was not "F.C.," it was "K.C."—I say that because I am certain of it—that is my only reason—I said before the Magistrate, "I saw only one bag; the rest of the load was covered"—there may have been three or four bags uncovered—that was a mistake on my part, I saw three or four—I went to Old Kent Road to satisfy myself as to the address given me that it was bona fide, because my suspicions were aroused—I went in my master's time—from there I went to Matson Street—if I did not mention this in my evidence before the Magistrate it was a mistake I made; I was under the impression I had said it.
Fourth Court, Wednesday, June 28th.
By MR. LEYCESTER. I gave my evidence at the Police Court on May 19th—the first time I saw the prisoners and picked them out was Saturday, May 13th—if, according to the depositions, I said at the Police Court, "I never saw them before March 13th, I saw them last Saturday, "I cannot deny saying it.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I have been with Hymans for a year and nine months—on March 13th I had no idea there was any stolen rubber on the market—I have had a fair experience of rubber—at the time I first saw the rubber in the van I had no reason to suspect anything wrong—I have known the Castles for years, but have never traded with them—I believe they do a very large business in the same line as ourselves—they are not necessarily trade rivals—I know a man called Woolf Paros—I have known him for four or five years—he is a waste rubber merchant—I do not know that he is one of the sharpest and smartest judges of rubber in the trade—our telephone number is 112, East—I do not know Paros' telephone number from memory—I did not ring him up on the telephone on Monday, March 13th, about 10 a.m.—I swear that—I had no communication with him that morning—I have possibly rung him up during the last three months once or twice; no more—I have never rung him up on the telephone in connection with this matter—I cannot say if at 3.30 on the Monday afternoon, March 13th, I connected in my mind the alleged visit of Moss to Castle with the sale of the rubber—I may have done—it was about a fortnight after March 13th that Helden first called on me—I have no recollection of the date—I never saw an advertisement toll as to the stolen rubber (Bill produced)—my attention was never drawn to that—my firm is pretty well known—if I had seen the bill on March
28th I should not necessarily have associated it in my mind with this suspicious rubber I had seen on March 13th—the nearest police station to my office is in the East India Dock Road, about 300 or 400 yards away—I do not pass it every day—when Helden called on me he did not produce one of these bills—it was not so long as six weeks after March 13th that I first saw Helden—I may have heard about the Castles being arrested—Paros did not tell me—when Helden came I do not remember that he mentioned anything about the Castles—he took a statement from me in writing—I believe I knew on the morning he came that the Castles had been arrested, but I did not tell him anything about Moss going into their yard—I believe I saw Paros once between March 13th and my giving my evidence at the Police Court—I have been to this place several times—I may have been there a week before May 19th—I cannot swear to that—I have known Paros for years; it may be lour and a half—it has not come to my knowledge that anyone has ventured to suggest that I knew anything about this stolen rubber—the police never suggested it—people do get occasionally charged with receiving stolen property when they are innocent—I had the misfortune to be charged with receiving stolen property a good many years ago, but I was acquitted—I was not the man that was wanted—it was not stolen property at all—it was at Peterborough fourteen years ago—I have dealt in various things since for a living at 40, Burdett Road—I do not know that I had a good many goods there and did not pay for them—I know a firm called Norris & Co., of Juniper Street—I forget if I got £20 worth of leather from them and did not pay for it—it is some time ago—it never occurred to me—I have an uncle named Edward Israel—he buys scrap leather—he is six or seven years older than I—I do not know that he might be mistaken for me, but it is very likely—I know a Mr. Clarke, of Old Gravel Lane, Wapping—I do a big trade with him now—I have never given him a cheque that has been dishonoured—that I swear—I saw him the other day near Wapping station—he asked me what I was doing down there—he is a thoroughly respectable man—I did not tell him that I was down at Wapping police station trying to put the Castles away—I was not going down there trying to put them away, most decidedly not—I told him I had just come from Wapping police station and that they had sent for me to identify them—I know a Mr. W. Smith, a wholesale merchant, of 2, Crown Street, Portsmouth—I have no recollection that on August 28th, 1897, he sold me leather and a saddle valued between £30 and £40, and that I have never paid him—I do not know if he save so that he would be right, I do not remember it—I know a Mr. Godwin, of Glamis Road, Shadwell—I do not remember giving his carman half-a-sovereign to make some weights a little better for me—I was not sent for by Mr. Godwin and turned out of the place and told never to come there again—I have a wife named Sarah—she does not carry on business—there is a County Court judgment of August 7th, 1901, for £30; one of December 3rd, 1901, for £11 6s. 6d.; one of October 12th, 1903, for £14 11s. 10d.; all against a lady, named Sarah Israel and myself, trading as E. Ellis & Co.—I used to travel and buy and deal in metal, leather, rubber, and old materials—I cannot remember
if there are other judgments against me—I saw Detective Gale before I saw Helden—I did not tell him I knew anything about this matter—I met him at the Eastern Hotel where I have lunch sometimes—he did not speak to me about stolen rubber—he may have called at the wharf when I was not there—I did not see him—he knew my address pretty well—the first day I went to the Police Court I gave evidence—I was not in attendance there on any day prior—I believe I was served with a subpoena to attend—I believe it was the day before the trial or the morning of the trial—a telegram was sent to me—between May 13th and May 19th I went to Paros to offer him some rubber strips—Paros never showed me this bill—Helden one day came into my office and said to me that he had an idea that I knew the names of the prisoners, so I said, "If you think so, I am very pleased you think so."—he said, "I insist upon your telling me those names"—he said, "I know the names, and so do you"—"Very well," I said, "if you insist upon me telling you the names, you put the names down yourself, and I will put the names down and we will both turn them over, and if they correspond one with the other, they must be right"—I did not tell him right away the names—they did agree—I did not toss up a coin—there was nothing said about that at the Police Court—this conversation may have taken place at Helden's first visit to me or the second; I cannot swear to that—it may not have been the first thing he said; he may have said something else—it does not look to me as if Gale had told him I had denied any knowledge of these men—I have said I never mentioned a word to Gale—I had never told Helden I did not know the names; I was never asked the question.
Re-examined. I am being asked about things which occurred some weeks ago—Helden was the first police officer who saw me—I never saw Gale—my clerk Laing was present when he saw me—the first time at the office, there was Laing, Helden and another police officer there—I do not know his name—as nearly as I can remember they came in and said there was some rubber stolen, did I know anything about it? I said, "Yes," and told them the facts of the case from the start—I told them exactly what I saw, and all about it—at that time I did not mention the name of the Mosses or the Castles—Laing did not in my presence mention the names, so far as I recollect—something was taken down in writing by the sergeant on that occasion—the second occasion that he came may have been a week or less after—he came with the same officer as before—Laing was in the office—there was nothing taken down the second time—he came to see if I could give him any more information—Helden saw me again about a week before I gave evidence—that was again at my office—I may have met Gale since March 13th at a place of refreshment—I saw him almost every day at the Eastern Hotel—I did not talk to him about this case—I can only remember Paros as having had one address since I first knew him—I do not keep a record of the people I communicate with on the telephone—I do not know of many people who stop outside police stations and read the notices—I do not know anything about the poster—I am not the principal of my firm; Mr. Hyman is—I have never seen a circular appertaining to this
robber—I owe people money, but that is unfortunate—I have met others who owe people money—I should think Mr. Castle or someone for him has been very busy looking after my debts—I have no doubt that on March 13th I saw the two Mosses and the van and the rubber in the van, and they drove to the water-trough—I am certain of that.
FRANCIS WILLIAM LAING . I live at 60, Sheen Park, Richmond, and am a clerk to Messrs. Hyman—I remember Saturday, March 11th—on that day William George Moss called with a sample of beeswax—he showed it to Israel or Hyman; I am not sure which—I next saw him again on the following Monday about 10 a.m.—he came alone, as far as I saw—he brought a sample of rubber with him—it was, I think, in a bit of newspaper—Israel was at the office and asked him what he had got—I think he replied, "I have got some rubber to sell," showing it to him—Israel asked him how much he had—I think he replied that he had about 25 cwts.—Israel said, "I will bet you a sovereign you have not got 25 ounces of it"—he said, "Yes, I have; I have got 25 cwts."—Israel then said, "Can I see it?"—Moss said, "Yes, I have it round the corner"—Israel told him to go out of the office for a few minutes while he was doing his letters and he would then go and see it—Israel left the office about ten minutes after—I did not see where he went—I did not see William Moss again that morning—Israel was away about fifteen or twenty minutes—William Moss was wearing a peak cap—on May 13th I saw a number of men at Wapping police station, and out of them recognised the man who came to the office on Saturday and Monday—he was William Moss.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. He was wearing a peak cap on the Saturday and the Monday, and also on May 13th—on May 13th I went to Wapping police station with Israel—I went into the identification first—I should think there were thirteen or fifteen men there—they were ordinary working men—I did not notice whether any were wearing peak caps except Moss—I was not looking out for a man with a peak cap, I was looking out for the face—there was nothing remarkable about his dress in general—he called on the Saturday between 11 and 12—he spoke to Mr. Hyman or Mr. Israel; I am not sure which it was—there was a sample of beeswax left, I think—I do not know what has become of it—there was, I think, no entry made of his call, but I have not looked to see—on the Monday he came straight into the office and spoke to Mr. Israel, as far as I remember—he had the sample of rubber in his hand—I do not think I ever told Mr. Israel that he had called on the Saturday—I did not mention any name to Mr. Israel—I did not know any name—I heard an address given to Mr. Israel; I think it was Matson Street—I think that was on the Monday morning—I do not think I have said this before—I first heard the name of Moss when the police mentioned it—that was some time afterwards—it was mentioned by Sergeant Helden—I think it was when he and Israel were together—I cannot remember how he came to mention it—in the course of questioning he must have mentioned the name of Moss—I had no conversation with Israel about the matter before the police came—I first heard of the
robbery of the rubber on Tuesday, June 14th, the next day—I then had my suspicions that the visit of the man had something to do with it—I think I made a remark on it to one of the Messrs. Hyman in the office—I do not think I said anything about it to Mr. Israel, or he to me—I afterwards heard of the Castles' arrest—I knew their firm—their arrest did not interest me particularly—I connected in my mind the arrest of the Castles with the visit of the man on the Monday morning—I do not think I mentioned that to Mr. Israel—Mr. Israel never told me that he had been to the Old Kent Road, but I know I beard it mentioned in the office—it was some time after—I believe it was one of the Hymans who mentioned it, but not to me—that is the first time I heard any mention of the Old Kent Road address—no such address and no name of Moss was given in my hearing on the Monday.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I think it was Matson Street that was mentioned; I cannot say for certain; it was something like that.
Re-examined. My wages are £1 a week—I am under the orders of Israel and of Hyman—I just mentioned in the office on the Tuesday after seeing it in the newspaper that there had been £600 worth of rubber stolen, but I did not, of course, say it was the stuff offered to us—when Helden called and saw Mr. Israel and me I do not think there was any mention made of the name of Moss by Israel at that time—that is the first visit—it was not Helden who fetched me to the station, but I saw him there—I cannot say when I first heard the name of Moss in connection with this india-rubber—I am not quite certain that I heard any address given on the Saturday by the man who brought the beeswax—what I have told you is what I overheard in the office.
HERMAN KATZ . I live at 162, Old Kent Road, and am an enamel ware merchant; I also deal in incandescent goods—I do not know either of the two Mosses—I do not think I have seen them before this case—there is no business of a rubber merchant done at my address.
BESTY PAROS . I am the wife of Mr. Woolf Paros, and live with him at 135, St. George's Street, E.—he is an india-rubber dealer—I have three children—we nave the whole house—the business part of the premises is on the ground floor—my husband's name is up on the premises—he deals in various kinds of waste rubber—I remember being at home on a Saturday, I cannot remember the date, when somebody called—it was in the afternoon, I think—I remember some few days afterwards going to Wapping police station and seeing a number of men there—amongst them I recognised the one who had called on the previous Saturday—he is the younger Castle—that would make it the Saturday, as I now know, March 18th—he came to my house and inquired about my husband—I told him he was out—I asked him what he wanted—he asked me if Mr. Paros had sold the rubber he bought of him; "floating rubber," he said—I said I thought he had sold it—he then asked me if he had sold it in the same bags as he bought it in of him, saying that there was a dispute about the bags—I told him I would tell Mr. Paros—he said he wanted Mr. Paros to keep them for him as he had burnt his bags—I said I would tell Mr. Paros to keep the bags for him—he then went away—the next time I saw him was at Wapping police station—I think it was the Wednesday after that—I told my husband of the conversation.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I am positive it was on a Saturday—I said before the Magistrate I could not remember the exact date—I did not say it was on a Monday; I said perhaps it was, because I could not recollect, but I now remember it better—I have been thinking it over, and I reminded myself that on a Saturday we keep our place shut, and it was shut when he called—I think the interview was between 3 and 4 o'clock, not about 10 a.m.—it was certainly in the afternoon—I do not remember the visit of the Prince of Wales to East Ham—I say the visit Castle paid to me was not on Monday, March 20th—there was no sample of gutta-percha produced at the interview—he did not say he wanted to show my husband this sample of gutta-percha; he said he wanted to inquire about the rubber—he gave no reason as to the burning of the bags—that was the first time I had spoken to him—I might have seen him before, but I did not know him then—he told me who he was—that was the only knowledge I had as to who he was—the same day two gentlemen called to see my husband—I did not then know who they were; I now know they were police officers—they saw him for about ten or fifteen minutes—on the following Tuesday night three or four officers came—I was out, and when I got home they were already there—I did not hear what passed between them and my husband; I went upstairs to our living rooms—they left and my husband went with them—that did not alarm me—the police came several times on the Wednesday—on Wednesday evening my husband went to the police station—I did not go with him—it was after that that I was fetched—I made no statement to the officers at home—at the station I saw my husband and it was then I made my first statement—I took no share in my husband's business, except with regard to messages by hand or through the telephone—I had a knowledge of my husband's business and what he was doing—he conducted his business himself and kept his knowledge of it, and the way he conducted it, to himself.
Re-examined. I have three children, and find my hands full in looking after them, so that I take no active part in the business—I had no conversation with my husband before I made my statement—it is not true that I invented the conversation with Castle to try and help my husband.
ABRAHAM ROSENBERG (Interpreted). I live at 125, Cannon Street Road, E., and am a Russian—I act as carman to Mr. Paros—he has a horse and cart—I remember one day in the middle of March going with a van of Mr. Lavington's from Paros' to Commercial Road—I do not know what place in Commercial Road—the van was empty when I started from Paros'—when we got to the place in Commercial Road my governor went inside—when he came out an order was given to drive the van into the yard there and it was loaded up with rubber pipes, over-shoes, bicycle tyre covers and eight bags—I saw the Castles (the prisoners) at this place—when we were loaded up Paros told me to drive to his place, which I did—we unloaded everything there except the eight bags which my governor told me were to go to the India-Rubber Company—I do not know the other name of the company—it is somewhere near Hyde Park—I saw no marks upon the bags—I went to the India-Rubber Company by myself, and Mr. Paros came after—Lavington's carman drove the van—the eight sacks were
delivered to the Rubber Company—a day or two later I went to the same place in the Commercial Road with our own van and fetched away four bags similar to the previous ones and also some piping—there was nothing else—Paros was there—the goods went to our place—the four bags were sold to a Mr. Mason at Manchester.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I came from Russia about ten months ago—besides being carman to Mr. Paros I sort the rubber goods—Castles' men loaded up the van on Tuesday, March 14th—I do not know that man [Pinion] or that man [McCarty], although he may have been there—that man [Bowles] was not there; I do not know him—I have never seen him before to-day—there were about ten men there—I am sure that man was not there—[Williams] I am sure he was not there—[Colls] that man was there—[Poulter] I have not seen that man—[Pinion, junior] that man was not there—all the load put into the van on March 14th was in bags, except the covers—I saw the contents of the bags as they went to our place—there were samples of the contents tied outside the bags—the sacks were weighed at the place where they were taken from—Paros stood by the scales as they were weighed—I did not see the sacks cut open—the contents of the sacks were examined at our place—the goods, when placed on the van, were covered up by Paros' directions—it was not raining—I helped to unload at Paros'—it took about half an hour—Paros was there all the time.
Re-examined. I did not look very closely at the men at Castles', and do not know whether the men called into Court were there or not—about ten men took part in the loading up.
GEORGE HENY KNIGHTON . I am a carman to Messrs. Lavington—on March 14th I went with my van to 135, St. George's Street, Paros' place—he and Rosenberg got into the van—we went to Castles' place in the Commercial Road—I remained outside for a few minutes, when Paros told me to back my van inside—this was about 9 or 9.30 a.m.—I backed into the yard near some scales—I saw the elder Castle there—I remained in the van with Rosenberg—on the van were placed some bags of waste rubber such as tyres and cuttings, and at the back of the van were eight newish bags of rubber, and on top were put some bicycle covers and a bag of gas tubing cut up—I could not see what was in the eight bags—two or three men loaded the van—it was a trolley, not a van—the goods were covered over with my tarpaulin—I drove back to Paros' with the goods—the things were carried indoors with the exception of the eight bags, which were left on the trolley—Paros gave me and Rosenberg instructions to go to the Kensington Rubber Works, Silchester Road, Notting Hill, with the fight bags—I did so and carried them in—I suppose they each weighed from 1 1/4 cwts. to 1 3/4 cwts.—I did not notice any marks on the bags—Paros came up just as I was getting the last two or three bags in—he came by train.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIT. We were about thirty to forty-five minutes loading up at Castles', and about the same unloading at Paros'—Paros told me to cover the things up at both places—it was not raining at the time, but it rained on the way—I did not see what was in the bags—I was
not near the scales when the bags were weighed at Castles', I was on my trolley all the time—Paros was standing by the scales seeing them weighed—I did not see him examine any of the contents—I was not watching him—my business was merely to take the load where I was told; that is all.
By the COURT. The scraps were in oldish packing, and it was necessary to cover them up with tarpaulin to prevent them falling off on to the road, but going to Kensington the tarpaulin was not wanted to prevent the bags falling off—I should have put it on later in consequence of rain coming on—it had not rained going from Castles' to Paros'.
AUBREY TOMLINSON . I am Secretary to the Kensington Rubber Company, of Silchester Road, Notting Hill—on Tuesday, March 14th, about midday, a van of Lavington's drew up at our place and Rosenberg came with it—Paros came about an hour afterwards—I did not know him before—before Paros arrived several sacks were brought in—I do not remember how many—I knew that some rubber was coming—I think Mr. Rath told me—he is our manager—the eight sacks were brought in and I saw the contents, which were raw rubber—the total weight of the eight sacks was 1,554 1/2 lbs. gross, that is with the sacks—the bags were afterwards weighed and found to be 43 lbs., bringing the weight down to 1,511 1/2 lbs. net., that is 13 cwts. 1 qr. 27 lbs. exactly—there were marks on the sacks, but I did not notice what they were—the rubber was bought by us and not brought for any other purpose—it was very wet, dirty, and offensive smelling; it seemed to be full of water—after Mr. Rath examined it I had orders to take about 100 lbs. and check it over, as it was washed, to see what it lost in the washing—about March 23rd Sergeant Helden came to our premises and the rubber was handed over to him—it was what we had received from Paros.
Crow examined by MR. MATHEWS. I went to the Kensington Rubber Company in July, 1904—Paros has had dealings with the firm since about April or May, 1904—the company was registered on September 26th, 1904—Paros had been a seller to the company and was a constant visitor—it was Paros' own van which brought the stuff from Paros as a rule, of which Rosenberg was the carman—the appearance of the rubber is entirely changed by the treatment at our works—it is taken and cut up by hand and then placed in boiling water for some time to soften it; it is then placed between two rollers, one of which runs faster than the other, which tear the rubber to shreds and if it is any good it will come out the other side in a long sheet—we make it up into tyres and compound it with other materials—Paros had sold us raw rubber before this under the description of "raw rubber"—I cannot say at what price—the price of raw rubber is higher than scrap rubber, but there are various grades of raw rubber and scrap rubber which approach each other very closely in price—some of the better grades of raw rubber are worth from 3s. 6d. to 48. 6d. a lb.—scrap rubber would vary in value from 2 1/2 d. to 2s. 6d. a lb.—some of Paros' rubber was treated at our works and in that condition handed over to Sergeant Helden about March 23rd—the sacks in which the rubber was, and which were handed to the
police, I believe were the same as it came in, but I am not absolutely certain—under our treatment rubber loses quite 40 per cent, in weight.
Re-examined. The eight bags contained only raw rubber, no scrap or rubber that had been used before.
MORRIS MASON . I am a rubber merchant at Salford, Manchester—I know Woolf Paros and have had dealings with him in rubber for some time past—in consequence of a telephone message from him on March 14th I came to London on Thursday, Much 16th, and saw him at St. George's Street—through the telephone he had offered me some raw rubber—when I got to Paros' I saw some 6 or 7 cwts. of raw rubber which he had offered me—it was in bags each holding about 1 1/2 cwts.—there were no marks on the bags—I bought rubber goods from him including this raw rubber, which weighed 7 cwts. 1 qr. 16 lbs—I gave him 2s. a lb. for it—the rubber had not been treated in any way—it was raw rubber in the original state.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I received the telephone message on the 14th at Salford between 5 and 6 p.m.—he said he had about 13 cwts. for sale at 2s. 1d. a lb.—he said he would send samples—I got a letter the next morning—it was in Hebrew—I am a Russian—I have been in this country about twenty-one years—I acquired the name of Mason when I entered into business—my real name is something very similar, Mofson, and I Anglicised it—I replied to him by letter—I got this wire from him: "Reply R. rubber 2s. 1d., Paros"—in the evening I got another telephone message offering to take 2s. a lb.—I told him I should be in London on the Thursday and would look at it—I did so, and agreed to take it—it was delivered to me by the Midland Railway in the same sacks that I saw it in—I did not keep those sacks—they had no marks—I had a small parcel of mixed rubber from Paros about two years ago—in all this dealing in March with him the rubber was spoken of as raw rubber by both of us and I paid the price of raw rubber for it, and it was invoiced to me in that name.
Re-examined. This is a copy of the invoice—I sold some of the rubber on March 20th at 2s. 0 1/2 d. a lb. less 2 1/2 on the usual draft.
WOOLF PAROS . I am a rubber dealer at 135, St. George's Street, E., and have been there two years—I have dealt in india-rubber in London for five years—I am a Russian—Betsy Paros is my wife and lives with me—she takes no part in the business—Rosenberg is in my employ—I deal in waste rubber in its manufactured state and in a little raw rubber—I have known the Castles, father and son, for three or four years—I have had dealings with them in rubber before this transaction in March—it was waste rubber, manufactured—I have bought rubber from them which has included a little raw rubber—the last transaction before March was about six or seven weeks before—on a Monday in the middle of March I had a message from my wife, and in consequence went to Castle's place in the Commercial Road—I know the place—there is a gateway for vans to go in and a yard—when I have been there I have seen the son, as a rule—I have had dealings with the father—on this Monday I got there between 4 and 5 p.m. and saw the son—I was taken into the office—
he first of all sold me some covers, hose pipes and toy rubber; that is waste rubber—after that he fetched me some brown paper and took from it two samples of rubber—it was unmanufactured rubber—he asked me if I wanted to buy that rubber—I said, "What kind of rubber?"—he said, "That is a good kind of rubber"—I said, "I do not know if it is good or not; will it float in water?"—"Certainly," he said—"Well," I said, "I should like to see if it will float"—a glass of water was brought and I cut a little piece and put it in the water, and I saw that it floated—I told him that as it floated my price would be 1s. a pound—he said, "No, it is worth more"—I said, "I will give 1s. 1d."—the father then came in and I saw he had two pieces of the same rubber in an envelope—the father and son talked together in the corner—I did not know what they were saying—then young Castle said to his father, "Mr. Paros offers for the rubber 1s. per lb."—the father laughed and said, "The rubber is worth 2s. a lb. or more. Do you call yourself a rubber merchant if you offer for that rubber 1s. a lb.?"—I told him that as floating rubber it was worth from 1s. to 1s. 1d. to me"—he said, "No, you cannot have it under 2s. a lb."—I said, "I do not know if it is worth 2s.; if you like to give me a sample I have got a man who will tell me what the rubber is worth"—he said, "All right; cut a sample from both the pieces and to-morrow morning when you call for the other goods that you have bought you can tell me if you will have this"——I cut two pieces off the two samples—this sample is the kind of rubber, but both the pieces I cut were very much thicker and bigger, and of a different shape—I asked the elder Castle what quantity he had got, and he said he had got a big bag, between 2 and 3 cwts.—the son said, "No, I think it will be a lot more"—I went away with the two samples to the Kensington Rubber Company, Silchester Road, Notting Hill—I showed the two samples to Mr. Rath at the Kensington Company—I arranged for one of Messrs. Lavington's vans to go to Commercial Road the next morning—Knighton, the driver, came to my place about 8 o'clock—I went with Rosenberg in the van to Castle's place—we got there about 8.30—the van waited outside while I went in—I saw Arthur Henry Castle—he said, "You have got your van"—I said, "Yes, I have got my van outside"—he said, "What price do you offer for the rubber of which you had a sample last night?"—I said, "I will give you 1s. 6d."—he said, "Wait a second; I will go in the office"—he came out and said, "All right, you can have it; pull your van in"—we pulled the van in and the elder Castle came out—he said, "Weigh in first the hose pipes"—the waste stuff was weighed first and then there were put on eight bags, but I did not see what was in them; it was called floating rubber—the weights were noted down at the time—the floating rubber in the bags weighed 13 cwts. 1qr. 22 lbs. net—in addition to that there was the hosing, covers and other rubber—the hosing was loaded first; then the eight bags were put in the middle and then the other things put on—I then went to the office, where young Castle made out the invoice which came to £126 11s.—when I saw there was such a big quantity of floating
rubber, I said, "I don't think I can do with such a large quantity of that floating rubber"—the father said, "If you are a business man the bigger the quantity is the better for selling"—I said, "All right, I will have it"—I took out my cheque book, saying, "I want to keep £10 back in case there should be any returns"—the father said that there should not be one piece wrong in that stuff, because they bought it from a big place and in a proper manner, and he took a blue paper from the table and said, "That is my guarantee, what I had from the man from whom I bought the goods, I bought the goods in Mincing Lane and the rubber on the Exchange, and the man that sold it to me told me that there was nothing wrong with the rubber, only what they call wetness"—he said he had bought it two months ago, as having wetness it was sold in a job lot and he bought it—he said he had kept it two months because it was so wet he could not sell it, but now it was drier—the son spoke for the other, because he has an impediment in his speech, and I could not understand him properly—the cheque was then drawn for the full amount, £126 11s., and signed by me—it has been paid—it is indorsed "A. Castle"—I took the goods home, leaving the waste rubber there, but the floating rubber was taken to the Kensington Rubber Company—I looked at the rubber as it was taken out of the bags—it was in very big lumps and very wet and dirty—it was all of the same class as the sample—I sold the rubber on the sample the night before—on the same day, Tuesday, I telephoned from the Kensington Company's place to Mr. Mason, of Manchester—the next day, Wednesday, the 16th, I saw the elder Castle, and another man in the street—Castle said to me, "Can you come to-morrow morning to my place? We have got another parcel of rubber"—I said, "Yes, I can call upon you to-morrow morning"—I went next morning and bought waste rubber, such as toy, red, tyres, goloshes, black, hosing, and then young Castle said to me, "We have got another four bags of floating rubber"—I said, "I do not want it; I cannot do with it. The man who I sold the eight bags to is grumbling that it has got too much water and too much dirt in it"—he took me into the office—I saw the father there—the son came out of the inner office and said, "You have got the four bags already on the vans"—"I said, I do not want it; I have not got a market for it"—the lather said, "All right, you can have it a penny cheaper. Take it"—I said, "I will have the rubber, but if I am not able to sell it I shall bring it back and you will return me the money"—they agreed to that—this is the invoice for it, 6 cwts., 3 qrs. 19 lbs. at 1s. 5d., and then there are a lot of other items, coming altogether to £71 16s. 9d.; there was an allowance for bags, 16s. 6d., making the net amount £71 0s. 3d.—a cheque was drawn for this and I signed it—it has been paid—I took the rubber to my place, where it was seen by Mr. Mason—I sold it to him at 2s. a lb.—it was sent to Salford—I saw the police on March 18th—I had a conversation with them—I did not see the Castles between that time and the following Wednesday—I have a telephone at my place—on Wednesday, the 22nd, Sergeant Helden came—I spoke on the telephone to young Castle—Helden heard what I said and what he said—I said to young Castle,
"Are you Mr. Castle?"—he said, "Yes, I am Castle"—I said, "I am inquiring if you have cot another lot of rubber just the same as you sold me last week"—he said, "I have not got it at present; we shall have it ready in a fortnight's time"—I said, "I think we shall have trouble about that rubber that you sold to me"—I told him that the detectives were after me; he said, "Don't be afraid, it is nothing; the police have already been to my place and left a paper, and I expect you have also the same paper; tell them nothing"—I asked him, "What shall I say I bought from you?"—he said, "Tell them that you bought from me floating rubber; I did not make an entry in my book only for floating rubber; when he comes tell him that you bought floating rubber"—I said, "That would not do, because I sell floating rubber for 1s. 1d., and I paid you 1s. 6d."—he said, "Tell them that it was inner tubes"—I said, "That would not do, because I sell my inner tubes at 1s. 4d., and how can I afford to pay you 1s. 6d.?"—he said, "Tell them you wanted to please a customer and that you paid 2d. a 1b. extra"—I said that would not do, "Perhaps somebody noticed it was big lumps of rubber, not inner tubes"—he said, "Tell them that you bought best floating rubber mixed with inner tubes"—we were then rung off—a few minutes afterwards there was another ring at the telephone—I said, "Who are you?"—he said, "Castle"—I said, "What do you want?"—he said, "I want to see you"—I said, "All right, I can come to you"—he said, "I want to see you to arrange that everything should be in order"—I said, "I will come to your place"—he said, "It is no good for you to come to my place and no good for me to come to yours; meet me somewhere"—I suggested the Swan Hotel—he said, "It is no good there; it is too close to my place. Meet me at the Three Nuns, Aldgate"—I said, "All right, I can meet you there"—I told him I could meet him at 11 o'clock—he said, "No, I want it before; can you do half-past ten?"—I said, "All right"—I went there at 10.30, but did not see him—I do not remember receiving a message from my wife on Saturday, March 18th.
Cross-examination postponed by request. (See page 1226.)
HENRY CAMPKIN (Detective). On March 17th I received information of this stolen rubber, and on the same day went to the Castles' premises with Detective Gale—about 4 o'clock the same day I again went to their premises and saw the younger Castle—I said to him, "I have had a full description of the rubber"—he said, "I will take it down"—he took it down—he said, "Give me the name; that is all we want, the marks will all be altered before now"; Castle, senior, then came in and, said, "Who is this man?"—Castle, junior, said, "This is a detective from West India Dock Road making inquiries about twenty-two bales of raw india-rubber stolen," and showed him the piece of paper on which he had written the description—Castle, senior, looked at it, and said, "We have had none of that rubber here, neither have I seen or bought any; should it come we shall know what to do."
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I made this note about two days afterwards—it may have been March 19th that I first gave my evidence—I looked
up my notes to refresh my memory—I went to a good many rubber places and said the same thing to the people there and got the same reply—I did not go to Paros; he is not in my division.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. My whole inquiry related to raw rubber.
THOMAS GALE (Detective K.) I went with Campkin on March 17th to the Castles' place about noon, end spoke to Castle, junior,—I said, "I am making inquiries about twenty-two bales of india-rubber which have been stolen from Nine Elms between the 11th and 13th of this month; have you got any or had any offered to you for sale?"—he said, "No, I have not bought any rubber for the last three months; I do not think I was at home on Monday, the 13th"—I did not then know the name of the rubber—I went again on Saturday, the 18th, about 11 a.m., and saw Castle, junior—I said to him, "I have called again respecting that rubber I spoke about yesterday; it is called Birgin and Manga Beira india-rubber"—he said, "I don't know anything about it; I will call father"—he said to his father, "Mr. Gale is here making some inquiry about some rubber which has been stolen"—Castle, senior, said, "I don't know anything about any rubber; I have not bought any for a long time. You can search my books and place if you like; I don't know anything about it."
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. On the Friday I was with Campkin; his inquiry then related to raw rubber, as did mine throughout the whole case—that was perfectly plain to the people of whom I inquired.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I inquired of other people—I went to Hyman's—I know Mr. Israel—I sometimes meet him—I have met him in the daytime when I have been walking around—that is the only time—I may have seen him once at the Eastern Hotel—it is not true that I have met him there almost daily at lunch time—I may have met him five or six times between March 17th and the day he gave his evidence, May 19th—I told him I was making inquiries about the stolen rubber and he said he had not heard anything about it—I cannot say when that was—he did not volunteer any information on that occasion—I did not go to Paros.
Re-examined. I met Israel casually in the street—it was not very far from the Eastern Hotel—I have never made any appointment to meet him—it was not to me that he ultimately gave information.
ALBERT HELDEN (Sergeant, Thames Police). I first heard of this robbery on March 13th—on March 21st I first visited Paros, and there saw Rosenberg, Paros, and his wife—on Wednesday, March 22nd, I was there when Paros conversed through the telephone—I had one of the receivers to my ear and heard the conversation—this is my note of the conversation made at the time—Paros said, "Who are you?"—the answer came, "Castle"—Paros said, "Arthur Castle?"—the answer came, "Yes"—Paros said, "Look here, have you got any more of that rubber what I bought on Tuesday, because I can do with another lot? You know, I mean the floating rubber, those big lumps"—the answer came, "I have not got any at present, but I shall have another lot like it in a fortnight"—Paros said, "Look here, I think we shall have some trouble about that rubber which I had from you last Tuesday"—the answer came, "Oh, why?"
—Paros said, "Two men called here about it, and made some inquiries of me"—the answer came, "Well, it was all right"—Paros said, "Yes, but they asked about those big lumps; what shall I say about that?"—the answer came, "Tell them you only bought floating rubber, all black inside, inner tubes, and so on"—Paros said, "Yes, but I sell inner tubes at 1s. 4d., and paid you 1s. 6d. for those lumps"—the answer came, "Well, you paid 2d. more, as you have got a new customer and want to keep him; you must do that in business"—Paros said, "What shall I say if they come again? I do not know what to say"—the answer came, "Look here, they are looking for 25 cwts. 1 qr. 23 lbs.; you have only got about half of that"—Paros said "13 cwts. 1 qr. 22 lbs.'; my invoice shows that"—the answer came, "If anybody comes, tell them nothing, we only sold you best floating rubber, white outside, which we have been saving for months; don't you tell them anything; we shan't know anything. They have been here already and did not find anything; I have got no entry in my book about it, so they cannot find anything here. You say we only sold you inner tubes, white outside, to make solution"—Paros said, "Yes, but what about the wet stuff?"—the answer came, "That is all right; it was for making solution with"—Paros said, "I am afraid someone has seen my van leaving my place with the stuff"—the answer came, "No fear; nobody saw the that rubber"—Paros said, "Well, someone may have watched us"—the answer came, "No, there was no one about"—Paros said, "I was afraid that other man, you know, to whom it was offered may have said something"—the answer came, "Yes, he is a bit sore about it, but I don't think he would say any-think"—Paros said, "Well, he might"—the answer came, "No, I do not think so; of course you know nothing"—Pares said, "All right," and then they rang off—soon after the telephone bell rang again—I again took hold of one receiver and Paros the other one—Paros said, "Hullo, who are you?"—the answer came, "Arthur Castle; I want to see you about that rubber. Can you meet me anywhere? but it is not safe for you to come here or me to your place"—Paros said, "Well, what do you want?"—Castle said, "I want to arrange everything in order"—Paros said, "Where shall I come to? the White Swan, Commercial Road; that is near to your place"—Castle said, "No, that is too near"—Paros said, "Where then?"—Castle said, "The Three Nuns at Aldgate, in the bar-room down the passage; what time will you be there?"—Paros said, "11 o'clock"—Castle said, "That is too late; make it earlier"—Paros said, "All right, half-past ten"—during that time Castle was speaking to someone else; I do not know who that was—the same day I went to Castles' place and saw Castle, senior; he was with his other son, William—said to him that his son had been arrested for stealing and receiving £600 worth of india-rubber—he turned round to his son William and said, "They have pinched Arthur," and to me he said, "Arrested Arthur? you cannot do that; he is my son, and only works for me. Why, he knows nothing about any rubber; we have not got any, and ain't had any for some months now; come into the office"—I went into the office with him—I said to him, "Have you bought any raw india-rubber during
the last month?"—he said, "No"—I said, "You sold some india-rubber to Paros on the 14th"—Castle said, "Yes, here are my books; look for yourself, everything bought or said is entered there"—he then showed me a book, and I copied out an entry which corresponds with this invoice amounting to £126 11s.—there was no mention of raw rubber in the entry—I said to him, "What does that refer to?"—he said, "I never knew of any rubber being stolen; no one told me anything"—I said, "Yes, I last Monday told your son about it; he told me P.C. Gale had been here. How do you account for this entry 'Sold to Paros'?"—he said, "That was only inner tubes and best rubber for solution"—I said, "Was there any raw rubber among that lot?"—to said, 'Well, there might have been 1 cwt."—I said, 'Not more?"—he said, "Perhaps 2 cwts."—I said, "Or more?"—his son said, 'Or less," and then Castle said, 'It was all inner tubes, the best floating rubber; it would be an impossibility for me to say how much raw rubber there was or was not"—he said he had bought some from Nash, of Brentford, and had been saving it up for a month or six weeks—I searched the book and found this entry, "Bought 20 lbs. from Nash, of Brentford," on March 21st, 1905, but failed to find any entry during the previous month or six weeks of the purchase of any raw rubber—he said, "Well, it came during the last six weeks"—on March 23rd I arrested Castle, senior, outside the Police Court at 10.45 a.m., where he had come to see his son, who was being brought up—I said to him, "I shall arrest you for being concerned with you son in stealing and receiving £600 worth of rubber"—he said, "I am here waiting for you"—when charged he said, "I am perfectly innocent of this charge."
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I am in the Thames Police, and make it my business to know the people who are employed about the water side—I knew both the Mosses—I did not know exactly where they lived—I did not know that Henry Moss lived at Matson Street—I knew he lived somewhere about there—I did not know his full address until about a week before he was arrested—he was arrested on May 12th, two months after the robbery—there is a man named Sluman working under me—I may have heard it from him—Israel never told me that address—he told me it was No. 14, and some street he could not think of—that was on March 24th—I saw both Israel and Laing, and questioned them on March 24th—they did not deny knowing anything about the rubber—they seemed to me to know more than they told me—Laing said that two men had been there—I did not take down what he said—they said that two men had been there on March 11th with beeswax and again on the 13th with rubber; Laing told me that he had seen one man on the morning of the 13th and that the same man afterwards called and saw Mr. Israel and went away with him; they said that the man brought in a sample and Israel said he showed him (Israel) a sample of rubber and he (Israel) went away with him and looked at the stuff on a van standing in Burdett Road, and he could see at once it was raw india-rubber, and it looked to him like what he termed Liverpool packages, that he saw it was partly covered up, that he looked through the after-part of the van and saw some bales, and he
believed that there was a letter on the bale, but he could not say what it was, that he then heard an order given to the carman and followed the van up the road in the direction of Castles' premises—he mentioned the name of Castle—he then said that he went back to his office—he did not tell me anything about the men going into Castles', but that they went in that direction—he tried to give me a description of the men, but could not give a clear description—he did not mention any name—he did not tell me anything that was of any use to me—I took a written statement from him on May 8th, four days before the Mosses were arrested.
Fourth Court, June 29th.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I called on Paros on March 18th and left this police notice as to the stolen rubber with him; it refers to twenty-two bales and mentions marks and the qualities of the rubber: Birgin, which should be Virgin, Matagrossa and Manga Beira—he did not understand what it meant and I told him it was pure rubber—he said he had not bought any—he asked me what the weight would be, and I said about 30 cwts.—that was of the twenty-two bales—I did not see Mrs. Paros at all—I next saw Paros on March 21st, the same day as I went to the Kensington Rubber Company—I went to the company between 3 and 4 p.m—I was shown eight bags, but not then—there were old marks upon them—they were really composed of old bags that had been cut up and then sewn together again—I saw Mr. Tomlinson and Mr. Rath there and afterwards went to Paros'—I told him that I had traced rubber to him through the Kensington Rubber Company—I did not take a statement from him on that day—I only saw him on that day about 10 p.m. or it might have been after 10—it was at his shop—he did not go to the station that night—the next morning I had a conversation with him—I did not make a note of it at the time—no statement of his was put into writing until he came to the police station; that was about 7 p.m. on the 22nd—I took the statement partly, but the whole of it was made in my presence [Paros' statement was then read]—in that statement there is nothing about a further purchase on the 16th—Paros mentioned that Mrs. Paros had had a conversation with Castle, junior, on the Sunday, as she said, and she was then sent for—about a week after I found out that he had sold raw rubber to Mr. Mason—we had not received verbal information from anybody that Paros had received more rubber than he acknowledged, but in a book at Castles' I found an entry as to rubber sold on March 15th—it is not entered to Paros—that is the information upon which I questioned Paros on the 27th; he then produced the invoice for that.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. The first information I had of the robbery was March 13th—that information came from the lightermen—it was of the loss of twenty-two bales of rubber—it was called Virgin rubber—I first saw Israel on March 24th—I have not a note of what took place then—no police officers, to my knowledge, had seen him before that—Paros' place is about seven minutes' walk from the nearest point of the river—on the 18th I asked Paros if he had bought any Virgin rubber, Matagrossa or Manga Beira; I told him there was about 30 cwts., twenty two bales—
he said, "No"—I told him it had been stolen from a barge—I did not at that time suspect Paros of receiving stolen rubber—he did not tell me at that time that the rubber had been taken to his premises, shot out and re-bagged—I do not know what Mrs. Paros said at the Police Court, I was out of Court—she said it was Sunday that Castle, junior, called on her—I take it that she meant her Sunday; that is Saturday—I do not know that Castle, senior, went with his solicitor to the Police Court and wanted to know if he was wanted—I was waiting for him at 602, Commercial Road—I afterwards found him at the police station—this note of the telephone conversation is in the original condition as I took it down—Paros' telephone is in a back room upstairs, which is used as a kitchen; it is close to the window, between the dresser and the window—it has an old-fashioned receiver and a flat one too—Paros was in front of the instrument—there is only one transmitter—I made the note whilst the conversation was going on and in between—the two conversations took, I should think, nearly half an hour—by that time the whole of that note was nearly complete—before I left there I put in the different letters "C" and "P," the initials of the people speaking, and the remainder of the second conversation—I stood up, holding the receiver in my hand to my ear—in between there were breaks in the conversation; Castle, junior, was speaking to somebody in the office—my note book rested partly on the dresser and partly on the ledge of the telephone—I do not write shorthand—I admit it would have been more comfortable to have had my book held—I kept the book steady myself—it did not slide about—I turned over the pages myself—I was actually at the telephone when the bell rang the second time—I did not think it was a message then from Castle—I at once took the receiver and put it to my ear—I anticipated a message might come from Mr. Rath, of the Kensington Company—I did suspect Mr. Rath at that time—I took a statement from him and from Mr. Tomlinson—Mr. Rath was not called as a witness; I cannot say why not—Paros and I were both close to the telephone—I had just finished my writing of the first conversation when the bell rang—I am sure I had finished—I had not then put in the C's and P's, but I had completed the note—Israel made a statement to me—it is not in a book—I have taken a great deal of interest in this case—I know a Mr. George Leder, who keeps a public-house—I did not tell him that this was my job and not Reed's, nor, "If I can hit Castle it will make my position in the Force"—I saw Leder here yesterday—I did not tell him to keep out of the Court—I did not prevent his coming anywhere near the Court—Leder came to me and asked me how Castle was getting on, how it was going against him—I did the same with him as with everybody else, told him I did rot know—I know that the Commissioner of the Police has given Castle a commendation.
Re-examined. I have been fifteen years in the Police Force—I began as a uniformed constable—I have been second-class sergeant for two years—Mr. Reed is our local inspector; he is the head—the Thames police take the whole of the river from Erith to Teddington—I was acting in this case entirely under his instructions—he heard of the loss of this rubber first, and at once sent me to see about the matter—I think Leder
is connected with this case in some way or other—he told me at the Police Court that ho had come up on account of his friend Castle—I absolutely deny that I said the words put to me to Leder—Castle was thanked by the Commissioner of Police for the assistance he gave in the matter of some guns stolen from Woolwich; he gave certain information—I reported the telephone conversation at once—the conversation was certainly not concocted by me with Paros—what I have given is the conversation as I heard it—during the conversation I got behind in my note, but I made up for it again—the voice of the person to whom Castle, junior, was speaking was indistinct—it was as if there was somebody in the room to whom he turned and then spoke into the instrument.
WOOLF PAROS (Recalled. Cross-examined by MR. HALL.) I am a Russian—I am not a naturalised Englishman, and have been in this county ten years—I am an india-rubber dealer—I have never been to a country where rubber comes from—I have never seen rubber collected—I have been a rubber dealer four or five years—I have known Mr. Rath about eighteen months and Mr. Tomlinson seven or eight months—a man named Hopkins introduced me to Mr. Rath—I have dealt with Castle for about three years—I do not know what raw rubber is—I do not know where raw rubber comes from—I do not know if it is dug out of the ground or whether it falls like manna—I do not know that rubber is collected by the natives from incisions made in rubber trees and that it is a gum that exudes; I never knew that before, nor that it is collected in lumps and then dried by various processes and so made useful for commerce—I do not know the difference between rubber as it is collected from a tree and rubber that is used for the outer covering of a motor-car—I never buy rubber at the Mincing Lane Sale Rooms—I buy my rubber from old metal merchants and old rag merchants—I was never given when a boy a piece of rubber to rub out pencil with; it is not done in my country—we write in chalk—I have now learnt a little of what raw rubber is, but not much—I went to Castle on March 13th and was offered some rubber and other things—I did not then see them—next morning I went with a van—I did not take my own van, as my horse was lame—he recovered from his lameness on the Wednesday morning—Castle showed me a piece of rubber, the like of which I had not seen before—I said at once I should like to see if it would float—I said that because young Castle told me it was a good kind of rubber—good rubber floats—"floating" is a pure quality of rubber—the piece of rubber was tried and it floated—when I saw that, I offered 1s. a lb. for it—some kind of outer covers are worth 1s. a lb.—rubber is much adulterated with sand and dirt and mixed with compo—I should think during the last eighteen months I have sold the Kensington Rubber Company 3 or 4 cwts. of raw rubber—Mr. Rath told me that this rubber was worth 1s. 9d. to 2s. a lb.—next morning I got the eight bags of that kind of rubber—I did not notice on the invoice that it was described as "floating rubber"—I did not cut the bags open to see what was in them—the bags were not very clean and not very dirty—they were old bags put together—when we got them to our place I told my man to cut one bag and see what was in it—it is
not true that I ordered my man Rosenberg and Julius Potosh to take the bags off the van and shoot the contents in the passage of my premises—I told Helden that it was two pieces that I took out in my passage—the eight bags never left the van—the contents of one bag were not shot out—two bags were cut at the top—they were taken straight away to the Kensington Company without any interference at all, with the exception of the two I have mentioned—Potosh told me that the bag was cut, that the rubber was very wet and in big lumps, and he brought me the two pieces—not one bag was taken out of the van—I telephoned to Mr. Mason at Manchester from the Kensington Rubber Company on Tuesday evening, because Mr. Rath was not satisfied with the rubber—Mr. Rath was testing a sample of 100 lbs., and if it was all good he was going to give me 2s. a lb. for it—when I took delivery of the rubber I did not examine the contents of any other bags—there was no sample outside—I took Castle's word that it was worth 1s. 9d. to 2s. a lb.—I had tried a sample—I did not rip up at Castles' every bag as they went out to see what was in it—each bag was weighed—this is like the sample I saw, but it was thicker—I did not know it was raw rubber—I thought it was good, as Castle, junior, told me—when I bought' the 6 cwts. 3 qrs. on Thursday I knew then that it was raw rubber—I went to buy other goods, and then I was told the floating rubber had been put on the van—raw rubber is floating rubber—I first heard that there was something wrong on Tuesday, the 21st, from Sergeant Helden—my wife told me that Castle, junior, had been to see her on the Saturday—I do not remember when she told me that—the conversation at the telephone took perhaps about ten or fifteen minutes, but I do not know for certain—I think Helden took down everything as it was spoken through the telephone—he never read his note over to me—Castle said to me on the telephone that the police were looking for 25 cwts. odd, and that I had only had half of that—I do not remember saying, "I have only had 13 cwts. 1 qr. 22 lbs.; my invoice shows that"—I have known Israel two or three years—I had no communication with him about the rubber I had bought from Castle—Castle told me to be quiet, because it had been offered to another party, but that I was giving a bigger price and the other parties were very sorry about it—I first thought of that this morning—Castles' men were present when this load of eight bags was put upon the van, and could see what was done—I am sure there were no marks on the bags—they were old bags—they were bound round with string—I had dealings with the Castles in floating rubber before.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I stood close to the scales while the bags were weighed—Castle cut one bag and took out a few pieces, and I saw what was in it—my wife did not tell me that Castle, junior, had said to her that he had burnt his bags; till the Wednesday evening—I then thought there was something wrong—I did not speak to Castle about it on the telephone or otherwise.
Re-examined. There were the eight bags put upon the van at Castles', which contained the rubber which I afterwards delivered at the Kensington Rubber Company.
WILLIAM REED (Inspector, Thames Police). I have had this case under my supervision—I received a communication from Sergeant Hills, and in consequence went to Aldgate, where I saw Castle, junior, at the Three Nuns—I asked him if his name was Castle—he said, "Yes"—I said I was a police officer, that I was making inquiry respecting twenty-two bales of rubber, value £600, which had been stolen from a barge on the river between the 11th and 13th of the month, that 13 cwts. 1 qr. 22 lbs. had been sold by him to a man named Paros, living in St. George's Street, for £112 19s.—I asked him where he got it from—he said, "I know nothing about any rubber; I have not sold Paros any rubber or anyone else"—I said, "You were speaking on the telephone to Paros this morning about some rubber"—he said, "Yes, that is right; I was"—I asked him what rubber that was—he said, "I know nothing about any rubber"—I said his replies were unsatisfactory and that I should detain him for the present—I took him to Wapping police station—after a short time, as I was about to leave, he called me and said, "I wish to add to what I have already said that to my knowledge no raw rubber has been bought by myself or my governor; I am only the clerk, and keep the books"—I left him there—I then went to 604, Commercial Road, where I saw Helden—I also saw the elder Castle—I told him that his son was detained at Wapping police station, that I was making inquiry about twenty-two bales of rubber which had been stolen from a barge on the river, value £600, and that 13 cwts. 1 qr. 22 lbs. had been sold by him to Paros at St. George's Street—he said, "It was all tube rubber that was sent to Paros; I know nothing of any other rubber"—he produced a book which he said was kept by his son Arthur—he showed me an entry of 13 cwts. 1 qr. 22 lbs., described as "floating rubber," with several other sorts of rubber—I asked him where it came from—he said, "I have been saving that for a long time, and cannot say where it came from"—I laid the book down, intending to take it away with me—when I went for it, it had gone, and I have not seen it since—Castle, junior, was charged with stealing and receiving, and made no reply—I saw Harry Moss on May 12th at Rotherhithe, in the Cherry Tree—I told him I was inquiring about twenty-two bales of rubber stolen from a barge on the river between March 11th and 13th, and that "You and William Moss deposited a large quantity of rubber at Messrs. Hyman Brothers, at St. Ann Street at 10 a.m. on the 13th"—he said, "Yes; well, this is not the place to talk about it. Where will you take me?"—I said, "Wapping police station"—I took him there and repeated to him there about the rubber—he said, "I know nothing about any load of rubber, and I was never in St. Ann Street in my life; what day was it?"—I told him it was a Monday—he consulted a time table that he had and said, "Yes, the 13th was a Monday, but I was not in St. Ann Street on that day or any other"—later in the day I saw William Moss about 10.10 p.m.—I told him that there were twenty-two bales of rubber stolen from a barge on the river between the 11th and 13th, value £600; that he had offered a quantity in a van for sale to Hyman Brothers, St. Ann Street, Limehouse, who declined to buy it unless it was sent through from his firm, which he said was Moss, 162, Old Kent Road; that "it was followed
to Castles', Commercial Road, van and contents left outside; you and your cousin Harry went in"—he said, "I know nothing about it; as far as I remember I was at work that night. It is a long time ago; I cannot now say where I was, but can find out from one of the firm I was working for"—that is all that took place—Laing and Israel were brought to the police station next day and they both identified the Mosses—when charged, neither made any reply.
Cross-examined by MR. LEYCESTER. I am not quite accurate in the last statement; Laing never identified Henry; he only identified William—he never pretended to have seen Henry—I donot know whether Laing and Israel were brought together to the station; they were both at the station at the same time, between 9 and 10—after they were there I collected the men who were to be stood up with the prisoners—they were waterside people, lightermen and labourers—none of them were prisoners—I knew that William lived near Old Kent Road—when I arrested the prisoners they gave me their address; before that one of my officers had told me where Henry lived—that was about six weeks before they were arrested—I had never heard the address from Israel till in the precincts of the Court.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. At the time I arrested Castle, junior, I do not think it was plain that I was talking about raw rubber—I say he said he had never sold rubber to anybody at that time—I know they are rubber dealers—when I got to the station he said he had never sold raw rubber—I said before the Magistrate that I had told him I was inquiring about twenty-two bales of raw rubber—I had forgotten that—it was made plain to young Castle that it was raw rubber I was talking about—I had had in my possession a book called the Out Book—Castle showed me a book with an entry in it of floating rubber.
Re-examined. I first saw a book of Castles on the 22nd—Castle, senior, produced the book when I went to his premises.
ALBERT HELDEN (Re-examined by MR. MUIR). I remember speaking about an entry in a book re Nash—I took a copy of it—the date of the entry is March 21st, 1905—I say this entry in this book now shown to me is not the entry I saw—it was in a book like this.
BENJAMIN GRAY (Re-examined by MR. BODKIN). The weights on this paper now shown to me are substantially correct—they are of the bales from Southampton, the bales out of the three trucks in London and the remaining bales as weighed at Bull Wharf—the total weight when they left Southampton was 14 tons 17 cwts. 2 qrs. 11 lbs.
Fourth Court, June 3th.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I am an Austrian—I have known Paros about twelve or fourteen months—I had dealings with him in india-rubber, mostly waste rubber, but a little raw rubber—the first transaction in raw rubber was about twelve months ago—I may have had six dealings with him since—they are all recorded in the books of the company—we bought from him and occasionally sold waste rubber to him that we did not
require—as far as raw rubber is concerned they have always been cases of out and out purchase from him—on March 13th I saw him—he showed me a sample of rubber—I offered him 2s. a 1b. for it—when I saw it next day I refused to have it—I complained about the quality and also that the quantity was more than we cared to have of that class of rubber—I considered it was not up to sample—I found it too wet—he asked me to try it—strictly speaking, there was not a purchase of it, but I was prepared to buy it—it was never paid for—the market value of the rubber at the time was 28. 2 1/4 d., subject to 2 1/2 per cent, discount—there is no entry in our books of a purchase, only of receiving and weighing it.
Cross-examined by M. HALL. I know a good deal about rubber—this 13 cwts. odd was not one lot of rubber; it contained various qualities of rubber; it was a mixed lot.
Re-examined. Looking at these three invoices, the first two do not describe the rubber at all; it simply gives the price and weights; the third one evidently refers to Virgin Para by the price, 5s. 1d.—there was no such rubber in the parcel.
ERNEST TOM EAST . I am a member of Page, Son & East, Limited—I produce invoices relating to the twenty-two stolen bales—we are the bailees of the goods—we have to pay for them, having had them stolen from our possession—the proprietors of Bull Wharf made out these invoices. [The COURT ruled that they were not evidence.]
Henry Moss, in his defence on oath, said that he was a marine store dealer; that he had nothing to do with stealing any rubber; that he had several brothers; that he did not go to Gravatt on March 12th and order a van from him for the Monday; that it was not true that Hepper came to Battersea with a van and that he (the prisoner) and William Moss loaded a lot of things in bags on it; that he was not at Battersea that morning; that he did not go with any van into Commercial Road, Burdett Road, or any part of the neighbourhood; that he did not see Israel that morning or have any transaction with him or any of the Castles; that he never knew the Castles before his charge; that he remembered Sunday, March 12th, because of a meeting as to a four-oared race; that on that day he visited a number of public-houses; that on March 13th he got up between 3 and 4 p.m.; that he never saw Israel in his life till he saw him at the Police Court; that there was not the slightest truth in his statement that he called upon him (the prisoner) when he (the prisoner) told him the rubber had been sold; that he had no conversation with him at all; that it was not true that he paid Hepper 2s.; and that he did not call and pay Gravatt for the hire of the van.
William George Moss, in his defence on oath, said that he was a lighterman; that it was not true that on March 11th he went to Hyman's with a sample of beeswax; that he knew Gravatt and Hepper; that he did not take a load of any sort from Battersea to Limehouse on March 13th; that he had no transaction with Israel; that he did not know Israel, nor the Castles, nor Paros; that he had never had any dealings with Paros; that on March 11th he was on the river looking for work with a man named Leahy, and left him about 4p.m.; that after tea he spent the evening with Harry, remaining with him till about midnight; that on Sunday he got up about 10 or 10.30 and stopped at home till 1, and spent the afternoon and evening at various public-houses;
that on Monday, March 13th, he was on the river with Leahy, looking for work; that at the time he did not possess a "P. and O." cap; and that he wore dark clothes, not serge.
Evidence for the Mosses.
CLARA MOSS . I am Henry Moss's wife, and live with him at 14, Matson Street, Rotherhithe—I remember on Monday morning, March 13th, my husband had a bilious attack and stayed in bed late—I fix the date by my husband coming home on the Sunday night from making a race at the Marquis of Wellington; he told me that Wallineer, whom he was going to row, would not row unless he had six weeks' training, and I looked at the almanack next day and I saw that six weeks from then would be Easter Sunday—he told me about the single sculling match being put up, and that is how I fix the date—on that Monday morning my husband stayed in bed—a man named Lawrence called while he was in bed—my husband got up between 3 and 4 o'clock—I never saw Israel before the Police Court proceedings—he did not call at my place on March 13th—there is nobody else to answer the front door but me—there is no stout woman living there.
Cross-examined. My attention was drawn to the importance of the March 12th date by the fact that my husband, when in Brixton prison, told me to remember where we were, on the 11th—I said to my husband, "You can account for where you were"—I knew that he came home and talked about the race; I did not argue it with him.
CHARLES LAWRENCE . I am a jobbing builder, of 25, Larnaca Street, Bermondsey—I remember calling on Henry Moss one Monday and finding him in bed—it would be about March 13th—it was about 10—I wanted him to buy some old rope—he gave me 10s. on the Monday morning on account of it, and 2s. on the Wednesday or Thursday evening following—I cannot say if I made a note of it; I have searched my papers, but have had no time to find it.
Cross-examined. Henry Moss came to me the latter end of last week—he asked me if I remembered going to him about the rope—I said, "Well, I do not know; have you any idea when it was?"—he said it was on or about the 13th—I said, "I shall soon tell you"—he said, "You remember, because you told me you had got a gas fitting job on"—I said, "Yes"—I turned up my book and found an entry in my book of the 15th, when I completed the gas fitting job (Book produced)—when he told me it was March 13th I remembered.
Re-examined. I merely make rough entries in that book—my brother does my proper books.
By the COURT. I might have given a little billhead for the 12s.—I would not swear whether I did or whether I have got it.
FREDERICK MANSON . I am a stevedore, and live at 39, Cherry Garden Street, Bermondsey—I remember the four-oared race being talked about that never came off—I remember seeing the two Mosses on Sunday, March 12th—before that I met Henry in the street about 7 p.m.—I left him and saw him again later on in the evening in the Marquis of Wellington—there
were there Henry, William, and Albert Moss, Thomas Main, Augustus Moss and several others—the subject talked about was the race—there was a visit to the Ship in Distress and to the Margate Town with the others.
Cross-examined. I do not know who stood treat that evening—I think there was £1 forfeit and it was spent or partly spent by Ernest Moss—this was on March 12th—I know I was there when the race was arranged—it might have been three weeks ago that I went over my dates—the race was arranged to be rowed in six weeks from then—I looked at an almanack and it gave the date of six weeks ahead as Easter Sunday—nothing took place in the public-house to fix March 12th—I cannot recollect that Ernest Moss did anything to fix that 12th March.
Re-examined. I first saw Ernest Moss on that day about 8.30.
THOMAS LEAHY . I am a labourer, and work for Darnell, corn merchant, of Bermondsey Road—I remember spending a great part of Saturday, March 11th, with William Moss—we went up and down the river—I was out in his boat—we got home that day about 3—I saw him again on the following Monday—I was doing no work, so I went out with him again about 7 a.m.—I spent that day with him—we get home about 4.30—I fix the date by the boat race that was arranged—I heard about it on the Monday.
Cross-examined. I heard on the Monday about the race between Moss and Wallineer—that was on the 13th—it made me very excited—I generally get excited over a race—Moss had on a rather light cap and wore something of a check suit.
ALBERT HENRY LONGHURST . I keep the Ship in Distress, Bermondsey—I know the two Mosses as living in the neighbourhood—I have always known them both as respectable men—they were in my house on Saturday evening, March 11th—William came in in the early part and Henry, I should think, between 8 and 9—Henry played me a game of cannons—they left, I should think, between 9 and 10—I saw them again the next evening with a party of others—they came about 10.40 and stayed till closing time, 11—their talk was about a race that was made between Henry Moss and Wallineer—they were to row in skiffs for £10 a side—it was to take place on Easter Sunday.
Cross-examined. The race was to be run six weeks from that date, and six weeks from Easter Sunday made it March 12th.
JOHN BODFIELD . I am a barman at the Golden Fleece, which is kept by my brother—I have not been employed by Page, Son & East—on March 12th I saw William and Henry Moss with others in the Marquis of Wellington—I was with them there till 9.30, when we went to the Margate Town—I left them about 10.15—I was the man who forfeited the pound.
Cross-examined. I was backing one of the parties, and put down a pound, which was forfeited and handed over to Erny Moss—we spent the pound in public-houses—they were not to row the race under six Weeks—I did not hear anything about it being the anniversary of somebody's death, and all the Mosses saying, "Dear me," and then going on to another public-house.
Re-examined. There were four or five Mosses and others—I could not hear everything that was said by Ernest Moss the whole of the evening.
THOMAS MAIN . I am a leather dresser, and am brother to John Main, who keeps the Marquis of Wellington—I was one of the party when the race was being discussed—it was on Sunday, March 12th—I saw both the prisoners Moss at the Marquis—I afterwards went with them to the Margate Town—I was in their company from 8 o'clock till about 11.30.
Cross-examined. I saw the single race rowed on Easter Sunday—that is the race that was arranged—I heard about the race that went off—I do not think Wallineer had anything to do with that—I do not think he was present with us on March 12th—there was a man there representing Wallineer—one of the contestants said he would not row within six weeks.
ERNEST VICTOR MOSS . I am brother of Henry Moss and nephew of William Moss—I am a lighterman—I remember the Sunday evening when the four-oared race went off and another race was arranged—that was March 12th—I was with the others in the Marquis of Wellington and afterwards, in the Ship in Distress and the Margate Town—I was with them from 8 till about 11.30—I remember that day because I made a boat race for that day and arranged with my brother to be there—my mother died on that date, March 12th, and I mentioned the fact to one of my brothers.
Cross-examined. I said, "Funny thing we are making a boat race of this sort"—I had been speaking about it beforehand—I just made the remark, and that was all—they said it was the date—we then went on trying to make a race—my brother Henry at that time was a marine store dealer and lighterman—William was also a lighterman—I cannot exactly say if he was in work then or not—my brother Henry did not have too much to drink that night—he was a bit queer the next day and may have had too much, but still I did not notice that he was so intoxicated that he did not know what he was doing—the forfeited money was handed to me—I had the bet on with Bodfield, and he lost his pound to me and I stood treat—I know that race was made for six weeks after—I have nothing in writing to fix the date.
AUGUSTUS SAMUEL MOSS . I am another of the brothers and am a waterman and lighterman's apprentice—I am nineteen—I was with my brothers on the evening the sculling match was arranged—it was March 13th—I fix it by going tack from the day the race was rowed to the night we were in there—it brings it to March 12th, exactly six weeks—both William and Henry were there.
Cross-examined. Six weeks was the training time—no articles were made on that night—they were made beforehand—I cannot say how long before—I think two or three weeks before.
Re-examined. My brother had made the arrangements for the fouroared race, and it had gone off—I was not present when the arrangement was made for that, but was present when the other race was arranged.
By the COURT. I saw the race on Easter Day—my brother and Wallineer rowed it—my brother won.
Third Court, July 1st.
Arthur Henry Castle, in his defence on oath, said that he was employed by his father as clerk at £3 a week; that the business belonged to his father, to whom the profits went; that he remembered Paros coming, on March 13th about 5p.m., and wanting to know if they had any goods for him; that he (the prisoner) told him there was a lot of rubber sorted, but he did not know if the governor wanted to sell them; that it was arranged that he (Paros) should come the next morning and take away a load of india-rubber; that it was then stated to be scrap rubber; that on the Monday Paros asked him whether they still had the large parcel of floating rubber that he (Paros) had previously seen; that he (the prisoner) said it was still there; that he said his governor wanted 1s. 6d. a lb. for it; that Paros eventually agreed to take it; that floating rubber is scrap rubber; that the next day part of the floating rubber was loaded on the trolley with the rest of the scrap rubber; that the floating rubber was in bags; that each bag was weighed separately while Paros stood by; that Paros cut down every bag to see what was in it; that neither on the Monday morning nor any other morning had William or Henry Moss been to his premises to his knowledge; that they were strangers to him till he saw them in the dock; that it was totally untrue that his father had said that he had bought the rubber on the Exchange in Mincing Lane in a job lot two months ago; that there was no raw rubber in either of the loads taken away on March 14th or 16th, nor any raw rubber received on his premises between March 11th and 13th; that it was not true that he (the prisoner) called on Mrs. Paros, as she stated; that he fixed where he was on Saturday, March 18th, by the Prince of Wales' visit to East Ham; that on that day he was at work till 3 o'clock, and afterwards was with a party waiting to see the Prince come by; that on Monday he went to Paros' with a sample of gutta-percha, but did not see him; and that the telephone conversation as given by Paros and Helden was incorrect.
Arthur Castle, in his defence on oath, said that he had been in the rubber business for about twenty-five years; that his son's evidence was correct; and that he did not buy any raw rubber from the Mosses or anybody else at any time between March 10th and 14th.
Evidence for Arthur Henry Castle.
THEODORE WILLIAM CASTLE . I remember the afternoon of March 18th, as the Prince and Princess of Wales came down Commercial Road—I was with my brother Arthur Henry up to about 3 o'clock, when we left off work—I did not see him again that afternoon—I was in the office on Wednesday, March 22nd, when the telephone bell rang—the account given by my brother of the conversation is correct.
Gross-examined. I could hear what Paros said on the telephone, because I had one of the receivers to my ear—we have two receivers on our telephone—it is the custom in our office for two to listen on the telephone, because some time ago there was a mistake made—Paros wanted to know what he was to say if the police inquired about big lumps—if I was not in the office two of those who were there would go to the telephone—there is no family rush to the telephone—I had no occasion to recollect the conversation till the police gave evidence at the Police Court—I do not know how long that was after it occurred.
Re-examined. I did not hear Inspector Reed's evidence at the Police Court—my brother did not tell me anything about the importance of the telephone message—I mentioned it to my brother first—my recollection is my own.
WILLIAM RANSOM . I live at 101, High Street, Homerton—I remember a Saturday in March when the Prince of Wales came through Commercial Road—I saw Arthur Castle, junior, between 12 and 1 p.m.—we after-wards waited outside a Mr. Talbot's place from about 3.30 till 5.30 or 6.
Cross-examined. We were together all that time—we had a glass or two till the procession came by—Arthur Henry Castle asked me if I could recollect being in his company—I said, "Yes"—I was in his company—he did not then tell me why he put the question—I am a general dealer.
ARTHUR HENRY RALBOT . I am a beer retailer, of 697, Commercial Road—that is about 80 or 100 yards from the Castles'—I remember being at the Sir Charles Napier beerhouse on a Saturday in March when the Prince of Wales came along—Castle, junior, was there, and he remained till about 6.
Cross-examined. Castle said to me, "You know where I was on the Saturday afternoon, don't you?"—I said, "I have very good cause to remember it"—the good cause was that a party of us, including Mr. and Mrs. Castle, went to St. Patriot's ball on the night previous—that made me remember I was with him the following day—I should say the earliest time I saw him that day was about 3, within five or ten minutes, I would not be sure—he never moved from my house—we were outside on the pavement watching some boys drilling.
Re-examined. That conversation was after he had been before the Magistrate and remanded.
Third Court, July 3rd.
Evidence for Arthur Castle.
GEORGE ERNEST COXILL . I live at 57, William Street, Stratford, and am foreman to Arthur Castle—I have been with him for four and a half years—all rubber which comes to his premises is sorted by sorters into bags and then stacked—the bags are tabbed with the grade of rubber—I have occasionally found in the rubber that comes pieces of raw rubber, never any large quantity—the Commercial Road entrance is where the rubber comes in and goes out—if by chance it goes to the rag department at the back it is brought round, but it is hardly possible for it to go there—I indistinctly remember Monday, March 13th—I was at work in the usual way then, because I have never been absent—no large consignmen t of raw rubber could have arrived on that day without my knowing it—I see everything that comes in—no such quantity as a ton or thereabouts ever arrived—when rubber goes out of our premises it is weighed, and the purchaser stands by the weighing machine—the buyer always makes a slit in the bag to see what the contents are—I do not remember Paros taking away two loads on March 14th and 16th—it is an every-day occurrence, loads going away—I was there when the police came on the 22nd and searched for rubber—I should think we had
then in stock over a ton of rubber of different kinds—it was thoroughly turned over by Mr. Castle's men for the police—there was no raw rubber Among it.
Cross-examined. I am the only manager—Castle, junior, manages in the absence of his father over me—I am bound to obey him; also Theodore William Castle—I should say that on March 13th I was at the back gate unloading rags—I had to see what sort of rags they were, and give directions as to their disposal—I have four men under me doing that—I should say that Arthur Henry Castle and Arthur Castle were at the other end in Commercial Road—after these answers I still assert that I know what was going on there about that time—it is no distance—there was a load of rubber loaded; I know that—I am talking about rubber going out on the 22nd; that is when the arrest was made—I had no occasion to remember what took place on the 13th—it is possible that rubber came in on the 13th; I could not say whether it was about 9.30 or 10—I do not assert that no rubber came in on that morning, but I do not think it possible, as I must have seen it if it had.
Re-examined. When rubber comes in there is a consignment note with it, and we check the weights on it; it is then signed in the office as correct, or alterations are made if necessary—from that document a book called the In Book is kept—that being so, it would be impossible for a ton of raw rubber to arrive without my knowing it—I pass the stack of sorted and unsorted rubber twenty times a day, and if there had been an addition of a ton I should have noticed it—it is a very large parcel.
JOHN PINION, SENIOR . I live at 48, Spencer Street, Sutton Street, Commercial Road—I have been in Castle's employment for about eighteen years as a rubber and metal sorter—rubber that comes in is weighed and marked with its weight—it is then taken to the rubber department and put on the unsorted stacks—it is there sorted by me and my son; after that it is put on the sorted stack and then into bags and tabbed—when sold it is put on the scale and weighed, and the purchaser stands by and cuts each bag down—if a ton of raw rubber had come upon our premises I would know of it—no such quantity came at any one time—I remember Paros taking his loads away—there might have been from one-half to three-quarters of a hundredweight of raw rubber amongst it—it was all mixed up—I handed it out—it is not true that there were eight bags of raw rubber put on his van.
Cross-examined. Scrap rubber is different from raw rubber; it is not so valuable—I do not know the price of raw rubber—it does not look like ancient liver—we put raw rubber that we find in a bag by itself—it is afterwards mixed with the best floating rubber—I helped to sort the stacks in the presence of the police—no unmanufactured rubber was there.
JOHN PINION, JUNIOR . I am the last witness's son, and have been with Castle for twelve or thirteen years—I assist in sorting rubber—if a ton of raw rubber had arrived there I should have known of it—no such quantity came—I was present when Paros took his loads away—the bags were taken from the sorted stack—it is not true that there were eight bags of raw rubber put on his van—I weighed the bags and he cut them down,
and I believe booked the weights; he was making an entry in a book—that is the usual practice with buyers.
Cross-examined. I am sure no raw rubber was sold to Paros, only what was in the floating rubber—that contained scrap raw rubber pieces—it comes to us in the mixed rubber and is put with the floating rubber to mprove the value of it—about a month ago I was asked to say where Paros was on that Tuesday morning—I did not talk it over with my father; we may have spoken of it casually—I remember Paros standing by the scale on March 14th—I know him as a customer—I say he out the bags down himself—the bags were not fastened up again—the contents were all showing, and they were driven off like that.
CHARLES MCCARTY . I am a labourer to Castle, and have been there About eleven years—I remember Paros taking his two loads away in March—while the load was being made up he stood by the scales and out every bag to see the contents—that is the usual practice with buyers.
GEORGE JAMES POULTER . I live at 4, Devonshire Place, Repton Street, Stepney—I am a carman employed by Mr. Castle—I have been with him for about eleven years—I remember Saturday, March 11th—I took my van round to Benton's Yard, which is by the side of our place, about 5 pm. on Monday I went there at 7 a.m. and loaded up brass—there was another van there loaded with rags—there was no other van in the yard that morning.
Cross-examined. I got back from delivering the brass about 11 or 12—I am quite certain as to that Monday—the rags were unloaded in the front of the premises, Commercial Road—that is the usual place—rags do go to the back and so they do to the front.
THOMAS WILLIAMS . I live at 14, Ann Street, Stepney, and am a stacker to Mr. Castle—I collect rags and bagging—they are stacked at the back of our premises—rags come there—all large quantities are unloaded in the yard—if rubber was delivered at the back I should be sure to know of it—no raw rubber was delivered there in March—I have been there three and a half years.
Cross-examined. No large quantity comes there; occasionally two or three bags of mixed scrap rubber may be in the bottom of the van—it is rags that are dealt with at the back chiefly.
JOSEPH COLLS . I live at 1, Goodheart Place, Lower Chapman Street, Commercial Road, and am a labourer employed by Mr. Castle—I have been there for twelve years—I load and unload vans at the back part of the premises—rags, glass and things of that kind come there—if rubber came to the back I should know it, I daresay—no large load of rubber came there in March.
By MR. BODKIN. I am not an expert on rubber—I look after the books and machinery at our premises—there would be many other shapes in which rubber would come over besides these now shown to me—the greater part of what was sold to us was in huge slabs like bullock's liver—
they were of various thicknesses—the stuff that Helden took away from our premises smelt very badly—I have described the smell elsewhere as that of intensely exaggerated gorgonzola—I saw the stuff that Paros brought when it arrived—I did not notice whether the bags were cut down—all I noticed was that the bags had the appearance of two bags sewn into one.
ARTHUR HALISTONE (Detective-Inspector, New Scotland Yard). I know the two Castles—about a year ago I had to make inquiries regarding some cannon stolen from Woolwich—valuable assistance was given by the Castles and they were thanked by the Commissioner of Police.
Cross-examined. They showed me an entry in a book relating to ingots that had been brought to them by people who were afterwards convicted.
Re-examined. The cannon had been sold to them in the form of metal—I had a description of the thief—I asked them if they had purchased that class of metal, and they then gave the information—I could have traced the thieves without their help, but could not have obtained a conviction.
Arthur and Arthur Henry Castle were given good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
550. ROBERT EMERY, Obtaining from William Monarch Turner a banker's cheque for £500 by means of false pretences with intent to defraud. Second count. Incurring a debt and liability to the amount of £500 to William Monarch Turner and obtaining credit from him by false pretences and other fraud.
MR. J. P. GRAIN. for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, June 30th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ROACH Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL, K.C., and MR. CLARKE HALL
ROBERT DENNIS . I am a cattle dealer, carrying on business at Bingham, Norfolk—I and the prisoner were married in 1890 and lived together in London and elsewhere until July, 1904—our marriage was not a very happy one all the time—finally she left me in July, and I did not see her again until the morning of May 30th—between the time of her leaving and my seeing her again I had some written communication from her; one when she was in Paris—I knew that she was living at 6, North Terrace, Kensington, with a niece of hers of about twenty-five—
I suppose the house was her own—on the afternoon of May 29th I kept observation on the house from outside—I saw the niece come out—the passed me in the street, going towards the post office—I followed her into the post office, but she did not speak to me—it might have been probably twelve months since she had seen me last—I saw her again when she went down Brompton Road about 12 p.m.—I was standing with a policeman under a lamp when I saw her—she then went back into the house—I waited until after 1, when I saw the light go out in the top room—I informed the policeman what I was waiting for—I then went up to the house and down the area step—I tried the door and, finding it done up, I got hold of the window and lifted it up; the shutters were closed, but they and the window were not fastened—I put my foot on a chair that I felt in the room inside and got in and lit the gas, and I then undid the area door—I do not know that I did that for any particular reason—there is a staircase leading from the kitchen to the other portion of the house—whilst I was in there I heard my wife call out, "Who is there?"—I said, "It is me"—I then opened the door at the bottom of the stairs—the stairs led directly into the kitchen—she said, "What do you want?"—she had either a dressing gown or a night gown on; she had just got out of bed—the staircase was quite light—I said, "I have come to see you. I have not seen you for a long time"—she said, "You had better take yourself off"—I then saw a revolver come by her side in her right hand—I stepped back and was going to close the door when she fired, the bullet catching me in my leg just about my knee—I stepped back very nearly a yard; I was at the bottom of the stairs with the door open—I recognised her voice and saw her face, and she saw mine—I was going to lock the door when I found there was not a key—my wife still kept upstairs and I held the door—I looked round to see if there was any other way where she could come in and I went and fastened the area door to keep her from coming in that way—then after she heard me moving about she went to a window which, I think, was on the first or second floor, and I heard her blow a policeman's whistle—I heard a cab come up and I recognised my wife's voice saying, "Go for a policeman"—a policeman came up a few minutes afterwards—I went up the area step when I heard the cab come up and met a policeman, to whom I made a complaint—he went to the front door and went in and got the revolver—he asked me to come with him—I did not see the revolver until we got to the police station—I did not go to the hospital, the doctor came to the station—I did not see my wife brought out in custody, but I saw her at the station rather more than a quarter of an hour after-wards, when she was charged with shooting me—my wound is now healed and I am quite well again; I was not ill at all.
Cross-examined. I had brought some horses up from the country, getting up to London at 1 p.m.—I do not contribute to my wife's support in any way—this house is one of many, of which there are only one or two occupied—I have heard from the policeman that my wife and niece are the only persons in that house; I have no reason to doubt him—I did not break into the house, I opened the window—I did not know that by opening the window and getting in I was breaking into the house according
to law—when my wife called out, "Who is there?" the kitchen door was shut—there is not a space between the door leading to the kitchen and the foot of the stairs—I did not say, "It is a burglar"—there was a light upstairs—I did not see any gas light on the stairs—I have not said anything before this about doing the other door up after the shot—I do not know who whistled out of the window—I did not hear my wife say to the policeman, "There are men in the house; protect me."
Re-examined. There was a good light from the room above on to the staircase.
WILLIAM TRUMP (312 B.) About 2 a.m. on May 30th I was on duty in Fulham Road, when a cabman came and spoke to me and I went to 6, North Terrace—I saw the prosecutor standing in the street some ten yards away from the house—he made a complaint to me—I knocked at the front door, which was answered by the prisoner; she said, "There are men in the house. Will you protect me?"—the prosecutor would not come back to the house, and the prisoner could not see him—she handed me a revolver which she was holding in her right hand—it was fully loaded in seven chambers, of which one had been spent—the prisoner and myself then made a search—there was no one in the house with the exception of a young girl, the prisoner's niece—I examined the window and found there was no catch on it—the gas was lit in the kitchen—the stairs which lead straight into the kitchen were dark, as was the hall—I told the prisoner I should have to take her to the station for shooting the prosecutor, whom she did not then know was her husband—I had left him in charge of two cabmen outside—she said, "All right; I will come with you"—on the way she said, "I fired the revolver in self-defence, as I was alone in the house"—she was charged at the station with intent t to do grievous bodily harm—she made no reply—it was at the station that I first knew that she had shot her husband.
By the COURT. I think it would be my duty to take any householder into custody who fired at a burglar.
Cross-examined. I now know that the niece whistled from the window, bringing up a cabman, who fetched me—the kitchen is right in front of the house—the position from the hall is that there are four steps to a landing with a door leading to a room, and then steps at the back, and from the landing there are stairs turning sharply to the right, and then a space of about five feet at the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen door—since this case, this house has been under police observation and protection.
HENRY MOTT (219 B.) About 10 p.m. on May 29th I was on duty in North Terrace, Kensington, when I saw the prosecutor standing at the corner, about thirty yards from No. 6—he spoke to me—I saw him again about 2 a.m. standing two yards from No. 6—he made a complaint to me and I took him to the station—he was perfectly sober on both occasions on which I saw him.
prosecutor—he was suffering from a bullet wound in the lower part of his left thigh—the track of the bullet was four inches long and its direction, downwards and inwards—the wound of entrance was four inches above the knee, and that of exit was one and a half inches above the inner side of the knee—the bullet passed right through—I dressed the wound—I have dressed it once since then, and he was going on very well—I saw him one day this week and he said he was quite well—such a wound might have been caused from a bullet from this revolver.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I reserve my defence And call no witnesses."
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that for four days previous to this she had been ill; that her niece on this night went upstairs to get her something, when she returned, saying there were men in the house; that she got up and went downstairs, taking a revolver with her; that at the top of the kitchen stairs she called out, "Who is there?" and that she heard a gruff voice reply, "It is a burglar"; that she said, "Then he had better take him-self off"; that she saw a man, and in order to prevent him coming upstairs; as she thought was his intention, fired the revolver to show that she was armed, but without intention of hitting him; that the first time she knew it was her husband was when she heard his voice on the other side of the road when she opened the door to the policeman; and that she had not recognised him in the kitchen, as the stairs were dark.
Evidence for the Defence.
ANNIE CREASY . I am living with my aunt, the prisoner, at 6, North Terrace—previous to this she had been ill for some days, and I was sleeping in her room—on this night I went upstairs to get her some eau de Cologne—I heard some one opening the window downstairs, and I went and told my aunt—we went downstairs, she taking her revolver—when we got into the hall she said, "You take the whistle and call for help while I protect myself"—I went upstairs and whistled out of my bedroom window—I attracted the attention of a cabman, who brought a policeman—before I had gone upstairs that night I had fastened the area door—the gate had not been opened for some days, and I think it was locked, but I cannot say—the next morning I saw the window was opened at the top—I did not see any marks on it.
CHARLES EDWARDS JOY . I am an auctioneer and surveyor, of Thurloe Place, South Kensington—I let 6, North Terrace, to the prisoner—before taking it I had a conversation with her about another house having been broken into near there and about the empty houses—she told me that she had a revolver.
By the COURT. No. 10 had been broken into and the men took refuge in No. 3, an empty house—it is a cul-de-sac—all the houses are unoccupied from Nos. 1 to 7 except No. 6.
NOT GUILTY . The Jury severely reprimanded the prosecutor for his mode of entering the house.
THIRD COURT and NEW COURT.—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, June 29th and 30th, and July 1st, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
552. JOSEPH KOPELEWITZ (37) PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring with Leon Bamberger, and Ann Jacobs and others unknown to obtain, and obtaining by false pretences from Robert Davies Roberts and others goods and credit. One previous conviction was proved against him. Two years' hard labour.
553. JOSEPH SCHNEIDER (19) , Obtaining by false pretences from Frederick John Johnson and others eleven chests of tea, an order for delivery of goods, and incurring debts and liabilities by false pretences.
MR. HUTTON and MR. BISHOP Prosecuted; MR. PUCELL Defended.
FREDERICK JOHN JOHNSON . I am a partner in the firm of Greenslade & Co., 7, Philpot Lane, tea and coffee merchants—we first commenced transactions with the prisoner in January last; he then desired goods upon credit—we declined to give him credit—he purchased £25 worth of tea, which he paid for on delivery by cheque, which was honoured, and the goods were delivered in the Mile End Road—he again asked us for credit, having taken premises in Aldgate Avenue, of which he said he had a lease—we asked him for the name of the landlord that we might enquire if he had received satisfactory references—he promised to supply references, but the next day we received this letter from 197, Mile End Road, dated January 21st, 1905, from him [Stating that he could not do business on the lines referred to by the witness's firm, and objected to their audacity in asking for the references they had asked for]—we heard from him again on April 13th or 14th on the telephone—he said he was very sorry he had written us that letter; that he had been unable to obtain any tea equal to that which we had supplied him with in January, and asked if we would supply him for cash—we agreed to that, and promised to send a traveller—the place of business was closed when our traveler called, and he left a card on April 15th—the next morning the prisoner telephoned to me, ordering tea to the value of £34 or £35, for which he paid on delivery by a cheque which was met—the following Tuesday, April 18th, he telephoned that he wanted some coffee, as the Passover was coming on, and stating that he would call the following morning and select some—the next morning, April 19th, he called, and, having selected some coffee, he said he wanted some more tea—he ordered coffee to the value of £30 and tea to the value of £70 at the same time, and to be delivered on Saturday, April 22nd—I saw the goods taken to be delivered at Aldgate Avenue—then he told me that he had received unexpectedly some coffee from the country and would not require ours—I deducted the value of the coffee from the invoice, and he then wrote me a cheque for £70 Us., and the goods were delivered—I would not have left the goods without the cheque, which I took to the Bank on the Saturday before Easter, thinking the money was there to meet it—the following Tuesday the prisoner called at our premises about 11.30 a.m. and said he
had been very busy in the meanwhile and wanted some more tea—he said he had collected that morning £70 out of a larger sum of £150 that be would collect, and he then ordered tea to the value of about £300—I booked the order—we did not deliver the tea, because we had a telegram about 2 o'clock that the £70 cheque was unpaid—I went down to Aldgate Avenue at once and saw the prisoner in his office with two other men—he came out to me in the street—I told him that we had been advised that the cheque was unpaid—he said, "Impossible. I have never had such a thing happen in all my business"—I said, "You had better come with me to your bank and find out what is the matter"—he said, "I am engaged just now; I will meet you at your office at 3,30"—it was then about 3 o'clock—having considered the matter for a moment, I went to the Capital and Counties Bank in Commercial Road and saw the manager—whilst I was there I saw the door close, and a moment, afterwards, when I went outside, I saw the prisoner running away—he tamed down a side street and disappeared into a passage or a house, I could not tell which—I saw him again the following Friday, April 28th—he said he could not pay the money at his office—I had been trying to find him in the interim, but could not—I went to his office several times when it was closed—on the 28th he said he had not any money, and that he would try and see if he could borrow some—we have never been paid for those goods—this is the cheque for £70 11s.
Cross-examined. I cannot say that I made enquiries before dealing with him—I knew he had been in business in the Mile End Road some little time—the first we heard was in November, 1904—I heard nothing of his age and did not enquire about it—I have since heard that he is under twenty—I should have parted with the coffee as well as the tea on receiving a cheque—I thought his explanation about not receiving the coffee was reasonable—I paid the cheque into the bank at once, because I did not want it lying about in my office over the Bank Holiday—I took it that his office was closed because it was a Jewish holiday—when I saw him on the 28th he said, "I have not any money," and that he would try and borrow some—he said he had lost money from racing in the previous days of the week, and he mentioned a horse's name—I suggested if he could pay me £20 I was quite willing to take the balance in instalments, to prove his good faith—I would have done so.
Re-examined. He told me he had sold the goods the same day—he did not tell me that he had sold other goods to Dubosky.
ALFRED BRUNTON . I am a carman, living at 19, Brick Lane, Spital-fields—I have been employed by the prisoner for about three months—I received some tea from the last witness on April 22nd in a van, and took it to Mr. Dubosky, in Nelson Street, from Greenslade's, in Philpot Lane, the day after—it remained at Aldgate Avenue till the next day, when it was loaded up again—some samples were taken from it before I drove it to Dubosky's—the prisoner went with me—two lots of tea arrived at 16, Aldgate Avenue, from Greenslade's, and the last delivery of tea was sold to another person, and I had to take away the papers—the second lot of, tea was sold to Ladbroke, of Islington—I remained outside while the
prisoner went into Dubosky's—that was the tea that had arrived the previous day from Johnson.
Cross-examined. Two lots of tea came from Greenslade's—I do not recollect the dates—one lot came on April 15th and the other on the 22nd—I took the tea to Dubosky on the same day that it came from Greenslade's—the second lot, which was twice the quantity, was taken to Dubosky's the day after it was delivered—the day I took the tea I heard a Mr. Lazarus ask for the van to stop, and they wired to Ladbroke—I took the bill to Dubosky, so that he could see what price was paid for the tea—Lazarus wanted to know what Dubosky had paid for it.
ABRAHAM DUBOSKY . I am manager to my brother, Dory Dubosky, wholesale and retail grocer and general merchant—on April 24th Brunton brought me some tea from the prisoner, which I bought—it was a Bank Holiday—this is the invoice, dated April 24th—the receipt is for £72 12s. 1 1/2 d. which I paid in cash—I always pay with the cash I have by me—I paid in gold and silver—I have a banking account.
Cross-examined. I had previously bought tea from him—he showed me samples.
F. J. JOHNSON (Re-examined). There was a difference of a farthing a pound between our price and the price obtained by the prisoner on some of the tea, and 1/8th of a penny on the other.
HENRY FERGUSON . I am a produce merchant at 155, Fenchurch Street—I did business with Schneider in February last—the terms at the beginning were cash against the delivery order, and afterwards half cash and half in fourteen days—I have had about twenty transactions with him—early in April a cheque for £20 came back—at that time about £40 was owing, and he received goods against a cheque, which made it over £60—I talked to him about the cheque, and he said he would pay in money; he wanted more goods and said he would pay me in the course of a day or two, so I went round several times to see him, but could not, and I would not do any more business unless I had cash or a noted cheque—he telephoned to say his brother was on the way to my place with the money—on April 20th I left for the Continent, leaving certain instructions—I came back from Italy on May 6th—I have not been paid.
Cross-examined. The amount of the twenty transactions was about £260—they were not satisfactory, because the prisoner did not keep to his agreement—about £200 was paid—his father is a grocer at 405, Turner Street, Commercial Road—I did not know him till I went to him about his son's debt, because the son mentioned so many times about his father—I was accompanied by Mr. McMeakin, the manager of Albers & Co.—I asked the father if he would be responsible for his son's debt—I did not directly ask him to pay it—I did not say, "I shall prosecute your son unless you pay his debt"—I went to obtain a settlement—he said he could not be responsible for his son's debt—McMeakin or I did mention a Police Court—the prisoner's father did not order us both out of the place—I knew the prisoner was going to be married—I had known it for several weeks past—I believed the prisoner was a respectable man, and our firm was willing to go on, provided the business was conducted in a proper
manner—the father refused to be guarantee for his son—then we put it to his future father-in-law that his son-in-law was owing money, and we knew he was about to be married in June, and as we did not want to take proceedings we asked him if he would be willing to guarantee the son's debts if we continued to do business with him—the father-in-law, Mr. Hyman, said he could not be responsible—after the hearing at the Guildhall on May 19th I called on the prisoner's father at the request of Mrs. Schneider, the prisoner's mother, but his father said he could not be responsible—I had a message from his mother, and I had no objection to go and see her—she asked me if the case could be withdrawn, and I told her, "No, under the circumstances," and left her—I did not say I was sorry he had been prosecuted, nor that if I was paid something on account I would endeavour to have the charge withdrawn—I would not have taken the money.
Re-examined. When I went to the prisoner's father about £66 was owing—I never received any of that—my clerks supplied the prisoner with £45 worth of tinned salmon when I was away, which would make the debt £115 or £120.
MORRIS FLASH . I live at 2, High Street, Mile End Road, and am a clerk in the service of Mr. Ferguson—he left for the Continent on April 20th, after giving instructions with reference to the prisoner—about £150 was owing to the firm—on April 25th an order for some tinned salmon was made out to be supplied to him, value about £45—I wrote the prisoner this letter of April 26th [Asking him to keep his repeated promises, when the order for delivery of the salmon, which was waiting for him, would be given up]—he replied by telephone and appeared indignant at the letter, as he said his father, who did not know of his debts, had found it—I replied that there was nothing offensive in the letter, and he again asked me if I would let him have the order—I said yes, if he would let me have some money—he said, "Very well, I will let you have £50 I will send you a cheque for £50"—I said, "I cannot very well accept this on account of your previous cheques having been returned, but if you like to send cash £50 I will let you have the delivery order"—he assured me that if he gave me a cheque it would certainly be met—I consented, but impressed upon him my position of responsibility, and he said through the telephone that the cheque would be met; then I told him I would let him have the order—that was about 11 a.m. on April 26th—he arranged to send his brother with a cheque—his brother brought this cheque between 1 and 2 p.m. [Dated "27-4-05"]—I handed him over the delivery order—directly afterwards I took the cheque to the bank—I gave written instructions to the bank—I communicated with the Sun Wharf, when I returned to the office, by telephone; then I took some labels to the prisoner's place in Turner Street, Whitechapel—I saw him there about 3 p.m.—he thanked me for bringing them down, and I asked him again whether the cheque would be met—he said certainly it would, and he said he would not leave me in a hole, and he repeatedly assured me that it would be met—after returning to the office in a little while I received a telegram from the bank—that was after 4 the same day—I then sent another
telephone message to the Sun Wharf—the next day the cheque was returned by post unpaid—I never gave any instructions to anybody at the Sun Wharf to deliver up those twenty-five cases of salmon.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner's father carried on business as a grocer, and that the prisoner was living with him at 40, Turner Street, where that business was carried on—I had spoken to Mr. Ferguson about it—when I saw the prisoner he said he had got no money—if I said before the Magistrate that he said he was very sorry, it is quite right—I told him it was very wrong of him to have done this—he mentioned about some races, but I do not think he told me the amount he lost—I knew he was engaged to be married.
Re-examined. I was not aware that he had any transaction with Dubosky.
SYDNEY KENT . I am manager to the Sun Wharf—on April 27th I received a telephone message, I believe from Ferguson & Co., about 2 o'clock, in consequence of which I gave instructions to Moore, who is a clerk in our service—the telephone asked us to delay delivery of the twenty-five cases of salmon—I instructed Moore to delay delivery until further instructions were received from Ferguson or myself.
ARTHUR THOMAS MOORE . I am a clerk at the Sun Wharf—on Thursday, April 27th, a delivery order for twenty-five cases of salmon was given to me about 2 p.m.—I did not deliver them, having received a message from Mr. Kent that the delivery must be delayed until further word—the prisoner's brother, Mr. S. Schneider, came with a delivery order and with Lloyd's van—he came again about 3.20 or 3.30 p.m. with the delivery order, and I delivered up the goods because I had received a telephone message from Ferguson & Co. to do so between 3 and 3.30.
Cross-examined. I did not recognise the voice on the telephone—I heard Flash first speak at the Guildhall Police Court.
ALBERT BRUNTON (Re-examined). I remember in April going to Messrs. Ferguson's with the prisoner's brother between 1 and 2 in the day—I stayed outside the premises while the brother went in—Flash came out with him, and I heard him say something, after which I went and got a van from A. C. Lloyd, at Thames Street, and went with the prisoner's brother to the Sun Wharf with this delivery order—the goods were not delivered then, and we went to 40, Turner Street, the prisoner's private house, and I saw him with his brother go to Cooks public telephone call office in Commercial Road—then the brother said we would have to go back to the wharf again, and I went again to the wharf with the delivery order, and received twenty-five cases of salmon—I took them to 40, Turner Street—twenty cases went to Dubosky's in Goldstein Street—the prisoner told me to take them there—I received the goods from the Sun Wharf about 3.50 p.m.
Cross-examined. I did not hear why the prisoner and his brother went to the call office.
MORIS FLASH (By MR. PURCELL). On this afternoon after I had telephoned to the wharf to delay delivery I did not have a telephone message from the prisoner stating delivery had not been refused, but only
delayed—most decidedly I do not recollect anything of that kind—I am absolutely clear that it did not occur.
ABRAHAM DUBOSKY (Re-examined). I remember buying twenty-two cases of salmon from the prisoner—I had seen a sample—I paid in gold and silver the same day, and the balance the next morning—the amount was £40 8s. 6d.
Cross-examined. I paid at the rate of 36s. 9d. per case according to the invoice.
ERNEST NORMAN TAYLOR . I am a clerk in the employment of the Albers Creameries, Ltd., of 4, St. Mary Axe, City—we have had business transactions with the prisoner since February—the terms were that the first lot of goods were to be paid for before any more were sent in—up to April 28th we had had ten or a dozen transactions—we were paid by cheques which were honoured—on April 28th I received the prisoner's telephonic message—I knew the voice—just over £48 was due—we were asked to send down for the cheque, as he wanted some more goods at once—at that time he had given us an order, I believe on the previous Monday, for 35 cwt. of margarine, value £57 15s. 5d., and the goods were lying at Goodman's Yard—we were waiting for the cheque—I went to Aldgate Avenue and saw the prisoner on April 29th, and received this cheque, which is post-dated, for £46 17s. 1d., between 3.30 and 4 p.m., so that there was not time to get back and put it through the bank—I asked him if it was all right, and he said, "Yes"—I believe the goods were delivered the same day—I paid in the cheque the next day—it was returned—I believe the firm has since received £4—about £101 is still due on two accounts—on Tuesday, May 3rd, I went to see him, but he was away all the morning—I saw him on the Wednesday morning, when I said his cheque had been returned—he said, "I know all about it; I have lost my money through betting. I am very sorry"—I believed the cheque to be a good one, or I would not have sent him the goods.
Cross-examined. Previous transactions with him amounted to about £300—previous cheques had been duly met—he said he had lost heavily in racing, and he seemed very much distressed—we knew from him that his father was in business in Turner Street—we made enquiries, but they were not very strong, because these were cash transactions.
Re-examined. The first transaction was for about £5 9s. 6d.—on March 8th there was one for £11 17s., and on March 15th one for £15 11s. 7d.—his transactions increased by leaps and bounds.
ISAAC ISAACS . I am a wholesale grocer and provision dealer, of 137, Whitehorse Lane, Stepney—I bought margarine and other provisions from the prisoner on several occasions—one was in April for margarine, for which I paid—the last amount I paid him was a little over £60 in cash, the latter end of April—I cannot exactly say the date—I do not keep any books—I do not keep my money in my pocket, but I know where to put my hand on it when I want it—I paid him in gold and silver.
Cross-examined. The price of margarine varies from 29s. to 53s. per cwt.—I have known the prisoner and his family for some years—he has borne a good character.
Re-examined. I knew he was indebted to Cadbury's—I had read in the newspapers that he set up in defence, when sued, that he was under age.
FRANK ALLISON ROGERS . I am a cashier in the Capital and Counties Bank at their branch at 210, Commercial Road, St. George's-in-the-East—I produce a copy of his account commencing on December 15th, 1904—it was closed on May 8th, 1905, because it was not kept in a satisfactory manner, and with a sufficient balance—cheques were being returned because there was not sufficient money to meet them—I have examined this copy account with the books—it is correct—on April 17th his balance was £1 0s., 3d., and on April 26th, 3d. more, as £11 12s. cash had been paid in, and a cheque had been drawn for £11 11s. 9d.—on the morning of April 27th the account opened with a balance of £1 0s. 6d.—cash was paid in for £35 and a cheque drawn for £34 10s.—the balance was then £1 10s. 6d.—on April 29th £3 10s. in cash was paid in, in notes or gold—a letter was sent to the prisoner, closing his account.
Cross-examined. I have a list of the cheques which were returned unpaid—there were nineteen altogether, and the amount is £392 14s. 10d—some have been since met, but not the last one—the credits amounted to £72 in December—the accounts are taken half-yearly—the balances are shown in the copy account produced.
ALFRED ROBERT TURNER . I am manager of the London, City and Midland Bank, Whitechapel Branch—the prisoner opened an account there on April 29th by a payment in of £25—the account has now been overdrawn 8d.—I produce a copy of the account which has been examined with the books.
Cross-examined. There are credit balances of £23 6s. 5d. and £39 8s. 5d., and there is credited to sundries £70—that was cash.
HENRY BEACHY (Detective-Constable). On May 18th I arrested the prisoner upon a warrant, in Whitechapel—I read the warrant to him, which charged him with obtaining goods and credit by false pretences—he replied, "Very well, I will go with you"—he was taken to the station.
The prisoner received a good character.
SYDNEY KENT (Re-called by MR. PURCELL). I received one telephone message from Flash to delay twenty-five cases until I received further instructions—we do not keep a book, but I have looked up the rough jottings which we file—that was the only telephone message I received.
By M. HUTTON. I received it immediately upon my return from lunch about 2 o'clock—Moore or myself attend to the telephone—we have a little boy, but he never answers the telephone; only one of us.
ARTHUR THOMAS MOORE (Re-called by M. PUCELL). On April 27th I received only one telephone message—I answered the bell and asked who was there—I was told Ferguson & Co., and that the twenty-five cases of salmon could now be delivered—the reason given was that there was a mistake on the part of the clerk in stopping the goods.
By MR. HUTTON. That message was received about 3.20 or 3.30 p.m—the time was jotted down—I have referred to that.
MORRIS FLASH (Re-examined). The first telephone message I sent to the wharf was after I had given out the delivery order, about 1.30—I asked whether they were the Sun Wharf—the answer was, "Yes"—I said, "I have issued a delivery order for twenty-five cases of salmon, "and telling them not to deliver those goods till I farther instructed them—I telephoned the second time about 4.30 p.m.—I referred to my previous telephonic message and said, "Do not deliver these goods at all"—I could not recognise the voice on the telephone—it is very deceiving and you cannot really tell—those were the only two telephone messages I sent that day—the answer was, "Very well"—that is what I remember, so that the messages were evidently received—as far as I recollect they told me the goods had been delivered and the salmon had gone from us—I said, "Well, I did not tell you," and the answer was, "Well, if the goods have been delivered, it is no good parlying about it," and they rang off—there can be no mistake that my second message was understood.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had intended to meet the cheques, but had been induced by a friend to bet on horses that were said to be certain to win for him £1,000; that he had lost his money, and that he denied having sent any telephonic message on April 21th to deliver the goods.
GUILTY on the third count (With regard to the £46 17s. 1d.). NOT GUILTY on the other counts. Respited till the next Sessions.
FANNY HELEN EDEN . I live at 63, Warwick Road, South Kensington, and I am the wife of Frederick Morton Eden—on March 8th the prisoner was our manservant—he waited at table, cleaned the silver, and so on—he lived in the house—he went off without notice on the 11th—when I came down about 2 p.m. into the dining room, seeing no silver about I rang the bell and made enquiries—all the spoons and forks, three valuable silver teapots, and all the silver articles were gone—some electro-plated articles were left—a soup ladle, a large gravy spoon, a salt cellar, some candlesticks and everything connected with the table and all my silver had gone, as well as my son's overcoat, a large kit bag that cost him three guineas, and a portmanteau that cost him seven guineas; also a lady's black leather hat box, a pair of new boots belonging to my son, and which were in his dressing room before he left, were all gone—my initials, "F. H. E.," were on my hat box.
ELIZABETH BRETT . I live at 65, Warwick Road, Kensington—I saw a man go out with a black box in his hand one day—it was raining—it was several months ago—the box seemed heavy, and he put it down to rest, and moving on he put it down again, and that drew my attention—I did not see the man's face.
on March 11th, about 4 p.m., I received information that a robbery had taken place in Warwick Road—Williams arrested the prisoner—he is in charge of the case.
EDWARD WILLIAMS (Sergeant F.) I arrested the prisoner on June 7th at Marylebone Police Court—I told him the present charge, and that he would be placed with others for identification—he was identified by the witnesses in this case—he said he knew nothing about it.
The prisoner, in defence, said he never saw the prosecutrix before.
NOT GUILTY .
MARY FREDERICA RENDELL . I am the wife of Major William Rendell, of 56, Courtfield Gardens, S.W.—the prisoner was in our household as butler and general manservant from March 28th to 30th, when he went away without notice—after he had left I missed all my silver, the whole of my husband's jewellery, and forks and spoons, hanging lamp from the drawing room, and other articles, a list of which has been handed in—none have been recovered—the articles include two silver top bottles, an aluminium tobacco box, pins, rings, stud links, and diamond rings which were in a little silver box in the bedroom—I never saw the prisoner again till he was at the Police Court.
LOUSIA HANNAN . I am Mrs. Rendell's cook—the prisoner was employed as manservant—he came on March 28th about 6 p.m.—he left on the 30th—I went out at 11.45 and returned about 12.15 or 12.20, when he had gone—I am quite sure he is the man—things were missing—he called himself John Slider—he had his meals with me.
The prisoner, in defence, put in a written statement to the effect that he came to this country for a holiday, but knew nothing of this robbery; that he was not a butler, but a bookseller; that he did not know the witnesses; and that there had been a great mistake. GUILTY . It was stated that he was serving a sentence for a similar offence in Pembrokeshire. Judgment respited.
MR. M. WARREN Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended Jones.
WILLIAM AHRENS . I am a member of the firm of Cooper & Ahrens, wholesale importers and manufacturers of foreign goods, 68, Long Lane—previous to March 6th I knew Wilcox as Grover—he purchased some alarum clocks in February, which he did not pay for—I received this letter from Bulmer, Grover & Co., of February 15th [Notice of partnership of Bulmer & Grover at 85, Chiswell Street, Finsbury, and ordering three electric and three musical clocks] and this postcard of March 13th
[Stating that they had a customer for the goods and would call on the 15th]—on Wednesday, March 15th, both prisoners called and asked to see some watches—they examined them and inquired the prices—I said they were samples of goods we were able to supply—they said they seemed all right, and that they could do business with our firm—Wilcox went out—Jones said, "If you will let us have the samples we can get plenty of orders, as we have a large connection in the country"—I said that as samples we could not very well spare them for more than a fortnight and I must have them back—Jones said, "All right," and he signed an agreement that they were to be at any time at our disposal—Jones selected a few—my assistant Otway was with me—the next day, March 15th, I sent Otway to the prisoners with a parcel of twenty-six assorted silver watches, as Jones had said he wanted them by 5 o'clock next day—this is the list and the agreement signed "Bulmer & Grover, 16-3-05"—I sent a delivery note and this letter of that date with the goods, marking the note, "On approval, from Cooper & Ahrens"—other goods and an invoice were sent a day later—I received this letter signed Bulmer, Grover & Co., of March 23rd, acknowledging a list of things we had delivered to them and ordering further goods—their letter to us of April 1st closes with this: "We cannot at the moment remit you a cheque, as we hare two heavy bills to meet on Tuesday, but will remit cheque in a few days"—I sent them this letter of April 4th [Demanding return of the sample watches] to which they replied by this letter of April 7th [Stating a wire had been received from Bulmer at Newcastle of good business having been done]—on that same morning I had passed Jones, whom I only knew as Bulmer, and I then wrote this letter to his firm: "Your Mr. Bulmer evidently returned sooner than expected, as the undersigned met him in Farringdon Road," and asking for the return of the watches—I received no reply—our firm then wrote the letter of April 11th [Requesting immediate attention to the matter]—we received the prisoner's letter of April 12th [Stating that Mr. Bulmer had left the samples on his journey, but they would do all they could to get them at once]—we then received this letter of April 15th from Bulmer & Grover [Stating that they had returned by post five watches and that the others were promised on Monday]—the five watches we received were of the value of about £1, and the cheapest we had—the numbers correspond—on April 17th we wrote the prisoners this letter [Pressing for the return of the remainder of the samples, and for a cheque]—the cheque asked for was for clocks they had received—we also wrote them the letters of April 18th and 26th [Further pressing for the return of the samples]—we delivered no further goods—we instructed our solicitor—we never got the other samples back—we have not been paid—on May 1st I sent a messenger to the prisoners and several times afterwards for the watches, but they were not returned—we received their letter, stating they were doing their best to obtain the samples from their various clients—at the Police Court fourteen watches were handed, me to look at, which I identified as ours—they came from Wilcox the last day he was on bail—they remain with the police—seven I have never received back—I have seen them at the pawnbroker's—the total value of the watches is £32.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I did not know Jones when he was employed by the Planet Watch Company—I saw him for the first time when he came to my place.
Cross-examined by Wilcox. The custom is for the invoice to follow the delivery note when goods are sent on approval—this invoice is marked "30 days net"—the 10 per cent, refers to the clocks—the goods were ledgered to you, and the note marked "On approval."
WINIFRED OTWAY . I am employed by Messrs. Cooper & Ahrens—on March 16th I took a parcel to 85, Chiswell Street, to the top floor back room with this delivery note and this letter from my firm—I saw Jones sign the words, "Bulmer & Grover" to this receipt and put the date—he handed it back to me—he took the parcel and the delivery note—only Jones was there.
PECY NEAL . I am manager to Mr. Brabbington, pawnbroker, of 298, Pentonville Road, N.—I know both prisoners as customers—Jones for a number of years, and Wilcox for a year or two—on March 18th I took in pledge from Wilcox fourteen watches, on a loan of ten guineas—it was a special contract for three months—just before the three months were up I wrote to him threatening sale—I attended at the Police Court in this case and produced the fourteen watches—they have been redeemed from me—I produce them to-day—they were identified by Mr. Ahrens as his property.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have had a good many transactions with the prisoners, and they have always been satisfactory—the watches were redeemed by Wilcox, on June 19th, I believe.
Re-examined. He redeemed them while he was on bail.
EDWARD HOAD . I am in the employ of Mr. Barker, a pawnbroker, of 91, Houndsditch—I know Wilcox as a customer—last Monday he came and showed us two tickets—he has pawned these watches (Produced) with us—they are still in pawn—on March 28th four silver and two gold watches, and on March 29th one gold and two silver—the first six pawned have been identified by Mr. Ahrens as his property, and I am ready to hand these over—as to the other three, one has been identified by Mr. Ahrens as his property, and I am ready to hand that over also.
EDWARD HOAD (Re-examined). I advanced £2 10s. on the first six, and £1 on the next three—last Monday Wilcox came and produced some tickets and said he thought he would be able to receive a cheque from a person and be able to take these out of pawn, as he was in trouble over them—he hoped that we should see something more of him during the day—we did not see anything more of him.
WILLIAM KING . I am a member of the firm of King, Abbot & Martin, engravers, of 85, Chiswell Street—some time in February this year I let the third floor back room to the prisoners—they both applied—the rent was 4s., and according to the rent book (Produced) the last payment was made on May 2nd by postal order—the last time I knew them
to be in the room was a short time previous to that—it was an office—I presume they did not live there—I do not think I went into it during the time they occupied it—they left the door padlocked when they ceased to occupy it—they always padlocked it when they were not there—I put another padlock on—on June 9th I went in—I did not find any letters there—they were left at my office by the postman—the prisoners took the room in the names of Bulmer and Grover, and the letters came addressed in that name—there was a lot of waste paper in the room.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I did not know Jones' name as Jones—I never asked him his name—they had references, one of which I enquired into and found satisfactory—I did not bother about any more—we generally sent a lad up for the rent—we saw Wilcox in the place most—we saw some boxes on searching the room—there had been clocks in them—we found no jewellery—there was the office furniture which belonged to them, and we found a damaged watch.
Cross-examined by Wilcox. I would not necessarily know when you came in and out.
---- WRIGHT (Police-Sergeant). I told Jones I was a police officer and had a warrant for his arrest—he said, "Don't say that"—I then read the warrant to him and he said, "Cannot you give me time? Are you sure it is not a summons?"—I conveyed him to City Road police station, where he was charged—he made no reply—on June 13th I arrested Wilcox at 30, Neville Road, Stoke Newington, where he lived—I told him I was a police officer and had a warrant for his arrest—he said, "So I believe"—I read the warrant to him and he said, "Yes, all right; I shall have an answer to it at the proper time"—I conveyed him to City Road police station, where he was charged—he made no reply—I went to 85, Chiswell Street, and found several letters, one being from a pawnbroker—some notices of bills of exchange that were due were shown to me.
By MR. HUTTON. I saw Jones sign the signature on March 16th—that is the only time I have seen him sign—I am called to prove the signatures of all these letters.
WILLIAM AHRENS (Re-examined). I did not see either of the prisoners write these letters of February 15th and 20th—I did not see the prisoners with reference to the goods mentioned in them—one letter enclosed the other—one of my travellers who is not here saw them with reference to them—I got this postcard on March 13th from them, but they did not keep the appointment they made by it—they came on March 15th, when I saw them on the subject of the postcard.
[The COURT held that this evidence was sufficient to prove that the letters were in the handwriting of the prisoners.]
Jones, in his defence on oath, said that he started business with Wilcox, his brother-in-law; that previous to this He had been six or eight years in the employ of a man named Schneider, for whom he had pawned and redeemed a quantity of goods; that on the Planet Company buying Schneider's
business he became a partner in that firm for twelve months; that the fourteen watches and the seven watches were pawned by Wilcox with his (Jones') knowledge and approval, he (Jones) being pressed for money at the time; that the fourteen watches were redeemed on June 19th; that none of the watches were pawned for his own benefit, it having been his custom to do so for the last five years; that he always redeemed them; that he had not written telling the prosecutors that this had been done, because it was not customary in the trade to do so; that when Wilcox wrote saying the watches were in the country with customers he (Jones) was not in the office; that he thought there might be £100 owing to Moorheart, a watchmaker, the firm's principal creditor, for goods received which were pawned, but that he had the invoices and meant to pay; and that previous to this, no suggestion of a criminal charge had been made against him.
GUILTY . It was stated that the prisoners were willing to pay the pawnbrokers the £2 10s. advanced by them. The COURT postponed sentence to give the prisoners an opportunity of paying the further sums due to the pawnbrokers on their surrendering the goods.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday, July 1st, 3rd,
and 4th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(See page 1076.)
MR. MUIR and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. GILL, K.C., and
MR. FRAMPTON Defended.
WALTER DEW (Detective-Inspector). On April 20th two warrants were issued for two men, named Clarabutt and Jenn—on the same day Clarabutt was arrested, and brought to Bow Street on the 22nd—evidence of his arrest only was given on that date, and on April 26th Mr. Sidford, an accountant, was called and gave evidence against Clarabutt, who was the only person then in custody—he produced these four accounts and put in four exhibits—on April 28th Jenn was arrested by Sergeant Callaghan, and upon that date formal evidence of arrest was given against him—on April 29th Robert Marsh was arrested, and he pleaded guilty here last Sessions—on May 2nd evidence was given against Clarabutt Jenn and Marsh of conspiracy—up to that time Newman's name had not been mentioned in public—I do not know whether on that day Mr. Marsham asked whether any others had been arrested: I was not in Court, but warrants were applied for against Newman and Bonning on that day at the close of the proceedings—the application was not made in public—the warrants were granted and I got one for Newman's arrest on may 4th—I arrested him the same evening at Kew Market—he lives
at Bradmore Park Road, Hammersmith, and has a stall at Kew; it is Brentford really, but they call it Kew—I told him I was a police officer and held a warrant for his arrest—he said, "What is it for?"—I read it to him; it was for conspiracy to defraud Abraham Israel and another; it also mentions Clarabutt, Jenn, Bonning and divers other persons, whose names are unknown—he said, "I know nothing about it—I then went with him to 36, Bradmore Park Road, and asked him to produce his bills and invoices, as I wanted to find every name relating to Israel and Joel—he said, "I have handed them to my solicitor"—I took possession of several old invoices of Israel and Joel's; they were all on a file; he produced them himself—he was subsequently conveyed to Bow Street and when charged he said, "I am innocent"—I was present at Bow Street on May 10th, when Clarabutt, Jenn, Marsh, Newman, and Bonning were all before the Magistrate—Newman was represented by a solicitor named Dr. Cooney, and not by the gentleman who is now representing him—you (Mr. Muir), representing the prosecutors, called for invoices—notice having been given, Dr. Cooney handed you some—in cross-examining the witness, Dr. Cooney put in a number of invoices—he had called at my office on May 2nd.
[MR. GILL objected to any conversation which took place between Dr. Cooney and the witness. MR. MUIR submitted that there was evidence of agency, that if it was a privileged communication it could not be given in evidence, but if Dr. Cooney took a message two days before the warrant was issued from his client to the witness it was dearly not a privileged communication, because the express object of it was that it should be communicated to the witness. The RECORDER said he entertained great doubt as to the evidence being admissible, and that he should not admit it unless MR. MUIR pressed for it, in missible case he should reserve the point. MR. MUIR said that he would not press for the admission of the evidence.]
Cross-examined. I think the earliest date that this question of Israel and Joel's business was in my hands was about April 16th—I am not very much in Covent Garden, but I pass through there—Israel and Joel's business is well known there; there are a number of wholesale fruiterers there and amongst them are Israel and Joel—it only came to my knowledge that an information had been sworn on April 20th—the warrants, had been, applied for and were given—after that date I was backwards and forwards in the market seeing Israel and Joel and others—three warrants were issued altogether—the prisoner's house is a five or six roomed house with a small greengrocer's shop in front—I should say he is an uneducated man—I think he is married and I think he has eight or nine children, and that his wife is in an asylum—I have heard he has had a great deal of trouble with his wife and children—his manager told me that he kept books; he has rather an extensive business carried on at a kind of stand—I suppose he would go in the early morning to Covent Garden Market to buy stuff—at his place I found books, but not relating to this matter—they were small books, in which the manager says he made entries.
matter arose I was clerk to Mr. Sidford, who is an accountant employed to look after Israel & Joel's books—I was employed exclusively in Israel & Joel's business at their office—I have no other duties—I knew all about the book-keeping—when goods were purchased by a credit customer a sold note or ticket was issued to him indicating the goods purchased—it was not exactly issued; it was given to the customer or his agent for his signature—it stated the goods and was signed before the goods were taken away—the tickets were then sent into the office, when the accounts were copied—that is where I was—the ticket is made out by the salesman and then entered in the Day Book by the clerk who kept the Day Book—his name was Gorman—the Day Book would show day after day all the goods that had gone out to credit customers—a Rough Cash Book was kept by the cashier—when money was paid by the customer it was first entered in the Rough Cash Book by the cashier who received the money—in the office there was a clerk named Jenn—he was convicted here last Session—it was his duty, among other things, to keep a Fair Copy Cash Book—the cashier in the ordinary course when receiving payment would give a receipt on the firm's proper form and enter the details in the counterfoil—it was Jenn's duty to make up the Fair Copy Cash Book from the Rough Cash Book, and the counterfoil receipts, checking them one with the other—the Sold Ledger was also kept by Jenn and the customer's account would stand in the customer's name—the debit side would be made up from the pay Book; that is, the goods gone out upon credit—it would contain the same entries as the Day Book, only it would appear under the names of the different customers instead of in order of date—in the same way the credit side would be made up from the Fair Copy Cash Book—the Sold Ledger was checked each week so far as the debit side was concerned, and I believe every fortnight or so with regard to the credit side—a clerk named Coleman was sent down by Mr. Sidford for that purpose—if he was away a man named Kelly went—I took part in the weekly audit—I only had to do with the checking of the debit side of the Sold Ledger—I had no duties at all with regard to the credit side—I had before me the Sold Ledger and Coleman had the Day Book—he would call out the items from the Day Book, and I would look in the Sold Ledger to see if they were there—it was my duty to see whether they corresponded—if I found them there I signified the fact to Coleman by a nod or by saying "Yes"—if some item was not there, and if I had done my duty, I should have said so—we did not change books and reverse the process for the purpose of checking one another—a proposition was made to me by Jenn in September or October, 1903, with regard to the checking of these accounts—he proposed that certain items which were in the Day Book should be omitted from the Ledger—goods which a customer had really had were not to be entered against him in the Sold Ledger—I agreed to do it; that is, to pass them as though they were there—when they were called out I made no sign at all—I did not tell the clerk, who was an honest man, that they were not entered, and I agreed to deceive Coleman and to lead him to believe that all was well when all was not well—that was done systematically with several
different customers' accounts—one of the accounts was Newman's—I cannot point out from memory which were the particular items I passed—there were entries in the Day Book which were read out to me, which I did not find in the Ledger, but I signified to Coleman that they were there when they were not—there was another method by which credits were entered in the Sold Ledger which did not appear in the Cash Book, and which, in fact, had never been paid—I think that was a joint idea between Jenn and myself—it followed on the other fraud—one stopped when the other commenced—the items were fictitious—in Newman's account (Produced) on January 21st, 1905, there is a payment of £3 1s. 9d. in my writing—it was only my duty to make entries in the Ledger in Jenn's absence—someone had to do it, but in the ordinary way it was certainly not my duty—it was my duty" to make this entry—I am prepared to say that Jenn was not absent on that date—it is a fictitious entry—there is no such sum entered in the Cash Book and, as far as I know, no such sum was ever paid, but the figures would be the amount we had omitted to charge him and which was required to settle the account up to that date—it had been entered in the debit side of the Sold Ledger, but omitted from the invoices sent to him—the goods represented by that amount would appear on the debit side—he had not been invited to pay for them, although he had had the goods—looking at the entry of February 25th for £23 4s. 4d., I say the same with regard to that—it is another fictitious entry of the same kind made by me—I made both of them by arrangement with Jenn—the remuneration I got for doing this was a quarter of the total sum—the customer had half of the total and Jenn and I had the other half between us, so in this case, which was about £36, I got £9, and the customer would get goods to the value of £18, and Israel & Joel would get nothing—I got my money through Jenn in small sums from time to time—I had not direct dealings with the customer myself—I only knew Newman's name; that is all—on April 12th the system was discovered by M. Sidford, and the same day before my arrest I made a confession—this book (Produced) was then before me and I pointed out these two items in Newman's account—I did not point out items which had been omitted on the debit side and which ought to have been there—Mr. Sidford went through the debit side himself.
Cross-examined. I was in the service of Mr. Sidford, whose special business it was to guard the interests of Israel and Joel—it did not occur to me that when it was found there was something wrong to which I had been a party, that it would be a good thing for me if I could put as much as I could upon other people—Coleman was another clerk in Mr. Sidford's office—when I gave my account less than a month ago I said that other clerks were in it besides Jenn, but only as regards some other accounts, not as regards this one—I was acting with a clerk named Gorman, but he simply knew of the transactions—he only knew of Marsh's account, which was disposed of last time—I have only spoken to Newman once; I cannot remember when; it may have been the very early part of this year—I simply said good-morning to him—I expect there are a good many people who have been to Covent Garden in the morning who I have said good
morning to—I am not working for anybody now; I am in custody—I heard Gorman deny my statement—I do not know if he is still in the employment—I said before, "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," and, "Gorman assisted in the frauds in Marsh's case, but had nothing to do with omissions from the Ledger, but simply knew what we were doing, therefore he had to stand in with the money"—I objected to giving Gorman's name—what I said was true; he was called as a witness and denied my statement on oath—I did not suggest that there was anything between Gorman and myself with regard to Newman's case—I have practical knowledge of the inner working of the business—the only people I know of who were authorised to receive the money were the cashiers—when I first went there Mr. John Israel was cashier in one place, and Mr. Michael Israel in the other—they were the sons—Mr. John gave it up, and an outside man took his place—I knew nobody else except the new man who received money.
Re-examined. Mr. John ceased to be cashier at the end of 1904—I cannot say positively when Michael ceased, but it was sometime before that—the only false entries with regard to cash were made in January and February this year—neither John nor Michael were cashiers at that time.
SOLOMON MYERS . I am the solicitor for the prosecution in this case—I was at Bow Street on the day that Dr. Cooney was representing Newman—previous to that date I had caused a notice to produce invoices of Israel Joel to be served upon Newman at his address and upon his solicitor—you (Mr. Muir) conducted the prosecution—the documents were called for in Court and Dr. Cooney handed them to you—this is a list of the documents prepared in my office, arranged according to date as far as the black ink marks are concerned—the red ink marks are those documents produced by Dr. Cooney—in red ink I have had inserted the actual exhibits produced at the Police Court.
Cross-examined. Dr. Cooney said something about one of the receipts not being stamped, or giving a receipt without a stamp on it.
REGINALD GUY SIDFORD . I am an incorporated accountant, practising g at New Court, Carey Street—since January, 1902, I have had charge of Israel and Joel's book-keeping—it is a large business—some years previous to that I was in the office of another accountant who had charge of the books—I am thoroughly acquainted with their system of book-keeping—Clara butt described the system correctly—before I gave evidence for the first time on April 26th I prepared copies of the Ledger accounts showing what the alleged falsifications were—among others, I prepared Exhibit 3, relating to Newman's account—it shows in black ink the credit entries in the ledger for which I find entries in the cash book and counterfoil receipts—for the two credit entries in red ink I find no entry in the cash book and no counterfoil receipts; those amount to £36 6s. 1d.—since New-man's arrest a number of documents have been produced; among them I find no invoice or receipt for those two items—among these documents there are none relating to 1905 at all, although there is, in fact, a genuine
payment for which I find the counterfoil receipt and an entry in the cash books on March 30th—it is for £19 17s. 3d.—there was not even a receipt found for that—among, the documents put in at the Police Court there was a certified copy of Newman's banking account from September 21st, 1904, until May 6th—looking at Exhibit 3, the first payment is on October 20th, which is a cheque for £22 8s. 6d.—I found an entry in the cash book, but I do not know about a receipt—turning to the banking account for October 21st, I find Newman's account debited with that exact sum—the next genuine item of November 18th is only for empties for which there is a receipt, then the next one is December 15th, which is a cheque for £5 3s. 6d.—I cannot recollect if I found a receipt for that among the documents handed in—I find that amount in the banking account on December 16th—I now come to the fictitious entries of January 21st and February 25th; there are no receipts and no entry in the banking account at all—then I come to the next genuine entry, £19 17s. 3d. on March 30th—I find that in the banking account under the date of March 31st—I find on the second page of Exhibit 3 that there were a number of sale notes which had corresponding entries in the Day Book, but that no entries of those entries to Newman's account were made in the Ledger—they are shown in red ink—they were goods entered in the Day Book as supplied, but omitted from the Sold Ledger, and I find corresponding sale notes from which the Day Book would be made up—assuming that they were correct, it would show he had had the goods, but when the Sold Ledger was made up he is not charged with them—in making up this page of my account, what I have done is that where there is a fraudulent omission I have put in the genuine item in red ink and the fraudulent one in black ink—I have the Sale Book for the genuine items; they have been paid—the goods entered in black ink are the only ones which have been paid for on those dates—the goods with which he has not been charged, but which are debited in the ledger are marked in red ink—the total amount of the false entries is £36 6s. 1d., the amount of the omissions is £106 5s. 10d., the total being £142 11s. 11d.
Cross-examined. Covent Garden is exceedingly busy on market days, but I am not there—the selling part is not in my province—if a man has bought different things and wants to get delivery there should be a sale note referring to the things he has bought—sometimes he wants small quantities and sometimes large—there were two shops to either of which people might go—the cashier would give receipts—the payment is sometimes made by cash, sometimes by empties, sometimes by other people's cheques, and sometimes by a man's own cheques—a man signs for the things as he takes them away, or his man signs—I do not think the man gets the ticket at all—a porter gets the ticket who delivers, and he would not give up the goods until the man has signed it.
HAROLD KELLY . I am a clerk in the employment of Mr. Sidford, and have been employed in investigating the books in this case—I found one or two counterfoil receipt books were missing—the receipt book which contains the counterfoil for the cheque payable on October 20th for £22 8s. 6d. is missing.
Cross-examined. We searched through all the old books—there was
an enormous mass of them, but not so many receipt books—a receipt book will last a month or two.
R. G. SIDFORD (Further cross-examined by MR. GILL). I do not know the handwriting of all the people who give receipts—the counterfoil may be made up of cash only, or of cash and empties—if goods are paid for by cash the money could not be intercepted, as the things a man buys must be entered up—if he paid cash it would not be put in the Ledger at all—it would be in the cash column of the Day Book—it could not be intercepted without its being known in the office and to me—I remember swearing an information on April 19th—some items in Exhibit 3 are for small accounts—on March 19th there were two hampers of broccoli, £2 5s., £2 14s. for cucumbers, and 4s. 6d. for two bag tops—that is turnip tops—goods are purchased every day, but three days in the week are market days, when they are specially busy—if a man had received money paid by a customer and put it in his own pocket and entered the credit for that amount, it would appear as though the money had been paid on that day, but that would be a cash sale, and the ticket would have to be extended, which is not done—we check the items in the Rough Ledger—the auditor would not have discovered that these entries were fictitious, because they were put in behind us, and after we had checked the ledger to a point—the checking was done by one of my clerks, who would know the method; the auditor was taken in—if he had any idea that Clarabutt was dishonest he would have gone back and checked it again, but, being ticked, he assumed it was all right.
Re-examined. If a customer was only debited in the Ledger with a part of the goods supplied, but had paid the whole sum to Clarabutt or Jenn, that would not be discovered, but if the customer paid the whole he would have a receipt for it—many of the documents produced I have not been able to find the receipt for—the first item of fifty boxes of potatoes has been paid for—if the customer had been debited with the whole amount, the twenty cases of dates would have been paid for in the same account, and he would have had one receipt for the lot—among all the documents produced I have been unable to find the receipt for those dates—when there is a genuine entry coupled with a fraudulent omission the document is missing.
ALFRED ELLIS . I am a porter in the service of Israel & Joel—it is part of my duty to deliver goods to customers and to see that they or the carman who takes them away signs the sale ticket in the market—this sale ticket number 32,795 is for twenty cases of dates, and is signed "G. D."—I recognise that—I know a carman named George; he worked for the prisoner, who had two carman—the other one is named Peter—that is the only name I know him by—ticket number 37,954, for twenty hampers of broccoli and five trays of cucumber, is signed "G. D.,", that is George—the next one, 38,016, is for two bags of tops—the next number, 38,496, for twenty bags of onions and five hampers of heads, is signed for "G. D."—number 41,937 is for ten bushels of heads and twenty bags of potatoes, and is signed for by the same man—number 42,910, for forty half-bushels of cherries, is signed "P. Buchanan"; he is the other carman I knew as Peter—number 1,054 is signed for by
George; it is for red and black currants—George is the same person as G.D.—3,250, for fifty half-bushels of pears is signed by George—5,177, for walnuts and peas, is signed by Buchanan—5,831, for fifty-seven pecks of tomatoes, is signed "G. D."—5,974, twenty bags of onions, by "G. D."—6,192, sixty-two bushels of switzers, is signed for by both—George signed "G. D." for twenty-two, and Buchanan for forty—that was, perhaps, because their master wished to have two carmen; it may have been a heavy load—there is one ticket for fifty bags of potatoes, number 43,016, signed Ted, but I do not know who that is—A1057 is for ten strikes of red currants, July 8th, signed for by George—a strike is a basket—5,822 is for five flats of cobs and twenty bushels of plums on September 15th, signed "G. D."—5,971 is for fourteen and a half bushels of damsons, and twenty bushels of apples and five flats of nuts, signed for by Buchanan.
Cross-examined. I have not given evidence before in this case; none of the tickets are dated—sometimes goods are sold which have not arrived so a man might come a day or two afterwards and take away the goods which he had bought—each ticket does not always represent a separate transaction, but sometimes they do—all the things bought by a man are not necessarily put on the same ticket.
JOSEPH GOSLER . I was cashier in the service of Israel & Joel from January 1st to March 25th, 1905, at-6, Russell Street—when I was paid money by customers who came to pay their bills I gave them a receipt and entered the amount on the counterfoil and then in the Rough Cash Book—I never received amounts without entering them in the Cash Book—on January 21st I did not receive £13 1s. 9d. on behalf of the prisoner—on February 25th I did not receive £23 4s. 4d. on his account.
HENRY JOSEPH GOTTARD . I was cashier to Israel & Joel in January and February this year, and am still—in those months Mr. Gosler and myself were the only cashiers—I was at South Row; there was a cashier at each place—on January 21st, 1905, I did not receive £131 9s. on behalf of the prisoner—on February 25th I did not receive on the prisoner's behalf £23 4s. 4d., or any sum on that day on his behalf—all sums paid to me I enter in the Rough Cash Book and give receipts—in that book, under date March 30th, there is on account of the prisoner a payment of £19 17s. 3d., and in the counterfoil receipt book I find that amount in Jenn's writing—that is not in the usual course of business—I invariably fill in my own counterfoils—I cannot recall that transaction to memory—I might have been at lunch or breakfast—my receipt book would be on my desk—if I was out somebody would take my place—Jenn would not be at my desk—I do not know if he would have to take the money if somebody came who wanted to pay an account, but if I was out somebody would have to take it—he might do it—I afterwards received the money—I made my entry for my own protection.
Cross-examined. It does not take me by surprise to find that the writing on this counterfoil is somebody else's—when I saw that the writing was Jenn's on my return from lunch I should say, "Mr. Jenn, you have some money for me"—it might have been in either of the younger Mr. Israel's writing—if it was in a porter's writing it would surprise me
it might have been in anybody's writing who was there at the time—Clarabutt might have been there—when I returned and saw that some-body else had been giving a receipt for goods I should want the money.
HAROLD KELLY (Re-examined). I am a clerk for Mr. Sidford, and was employed in checking the credit side of this Ledger (Produced)—on folio 606 I find an entry underdate, January 1st, 1905, for £13 1s. 9d., which is ticked—I did not tick it—it was not there when I ticked the Ledger; it has been written in since—I say the same with regard to the £23 4s. 4d. on February 25th.
EDWARD PENNY COLEMAN . I am a clerk in the employment of Mr. Sidford, and once a week I went to Messrs. Israel & Joel's for the purpose of checking the debit entries in the Sold Ledger with Clarabutt—I held the Day Book and he answered—if he answered that an entry was there I ticked it and passed on—if Clarabutt had answered to an item which I called out which was not in the Ledger I should not know it—I had to accept his answer—I always had the Day Book and he the Ledger.
HENRY DRYSDALE BOSTON . I am ledger clerk at the Hammersmith Branch of the London and County Bank—the prisoner had an account there of which I produce a certified copy—this (Produced) is his pass-book—it goes back further than my copy.
Cross-examined. The prisoner seems to have had transactions with Munroe, Pankhurst, Jacobs, Isaacs, and others—I do not know who they are.
Cross-examined. I was at one shop and my brother Michael at the other—I heard my brother's evidence at the Police Court—I was always at the Russell Street shop and my brother at South Row—they are about 250 yards, apart—receipts should always be given to people who buy there, but not to cash customers—I said before, "When I have been too busy and have not had time to write out a receipt for Newman I have at times promised to send on a receipt," but that would be for a cheque—cash would have a receipt at once—I always made it convenient to give receipts for cash—if a man gave me a cheque I should send on the receipt if I was busy selling—a cheque is a receipt in itself—other people would sometimes pay money and not wait for a receipt, but not unless it was a cheque.
Cross-examined. I gave evidence at Bow Street, when I said, "I was always at the desk at my shop in Covent Garden. It was always at the desk I received payment. I generally gave receipts and always entered the receipts in the Cash Book; from the cash book they would in due course be entered in the Ledger. Sometimes I did not give receipts to the persons making payments. If the person did not wait I used to send the receipts upstairs and they would in most cases be posted by Jenn to the customer; sometimes a clerk went round to collect from customers"
—if I went out to lunch or for any purpose, whoever happened to be at the desk would take my place.
Re-examined. Jenn was never sent out to collect accounts except when they were in arrear—the prisoner was never in arrear; his accounts were weekly—at the end of the week he paid regularly—I sent on receipts if I had not one handy or was pressed at the time—in those cases I should certainly, enter the receipt of the cash in the Cash Book and make out receipts for the money received, so that it would appear in the Counterfoil Receipt Book.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury — Nine months in the Second Division.
MR. A. HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Wacher and MR. THORNE Defended Barnes.
LEWIS DROMART . I am a clerk to T. King & Co., of 9, Camomile Street—Wacher has been a carman in our employment—his duty was to drive goods to the docks—on May 24th he was sent to the Manachar Trading Company in the morning—he brought back two cases, which he deposited at our Houndsditch warehouse—he then went to Bousfield's for some more goods, and he was to take them with the other two cases, eight altogether, straight to the docks, for foreign shipment—he left at 2.57 p.m.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Wacher had been in our employment for about two months—after he had started from our place he did not come back—a few minutes after he had left I heard that he had lost his bills or shipping notes—they were brought in to me a few minutes after he left by a stranger, who had found them.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. Up to 1.46 Wacher was following his ordinary round.
Re-examined. We could not have given Wacher duplicate notes if he had come back, unless it was our goods which were on the van—he could not deliver at the docks without the notes—he did not come back to us for duplicate notes or to enquire if his were found.
JOHN HENRY REDFERN . I am a clerk in the employment of the Manachar Trading Company, of 20, Eastcheap—on May 24th I delivered to Wacher two cases, which I have since seen in the hands of the police—Wacher gave me a receipt, which remained with us—I gave him a shipping note—he was to take the oases to the docks for us for transit to South Africa—at the took they would keep one half of the shipping note and give him the other.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I think Wacher started about 11.30 a.m.—I did not see him again that day.
JOHN AVERY . I am a clerk to Bousfield & Company—on May 24th I delivered to Wacher two cases of clothing to go to the East India Dock for South Africa—they were brought back to me next day—Wacher gives the shipping note to the dock authorities, who sign his book, and he brings the book back to us—the value of the goods was £235 12s. 9d.—we got them back and they are now shipped—I think Wacher came for the cases about 1.30—it may have been later.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have no distinct recollection of the time—I was rather busy—it may have been 2.30—he came back in about half an hour and asked for duplicate notes—I do not know if he had the cases with him then—he said he had lost the notes—I saw him personally—I gave him duplicates—we do not declare the value to the dock company—we give the name of the ship on the note—these goods were going by different boats—it took me about five minutes to prepare the duplicate notes—I think that 4 o'clock is the latest time to be at the docks—I do not remember Wacher saying anything about his being pressed for time to get to the docks—he said, "More haste less speed; I had got as far as Gardiner's and found I had lost my shipping notes"—Gardiner's is at the corner of Whitechapel Road and Commercial Road—it would take him five or six minutes to get there—I should think it would take about half an hour to get to the docks from my office at 126, Houndsditch.
ABRAHAM MICHAELS . I live at 27, Green Dragon Place, and am a traveller—on May 24th, a little after 1 p.m. I met Barnes in Brick Lane—he asked me if I could do with a van load of stuff, and could I find a buyer—I said I could not buy a pig and a poke; I must have a look—he said, "I have to meet the carman outside Whitechapel Church at 3.30"—I went home to dinner and arranged to meet Barnes at 3.30 outside White-chapel Church—I found him there, and the carman, who was Wacher, passed in a cart with a lot of boxes in it—Barnes said, "That is him; that is the man. He is all right"—I understood he meant that Wacher would dispose of anything he could—I did not know Wacher before—I said to Barnes, "Tell him to go to the Mulberry Tree, Mulberry Street, Commercial Road"—I said I would follow—he went after Wacher and I went to the Mulberry Tree—I went inside and saw the prisoners, the cart being outside, unattended—up to that time I had said nothing about sending a telegram—Barnes said, "Can you find a buyer?"—I said, "I know a buyer from the West End; he has got a stable and I will go and send a wire away to the stable"—Wacher heard that—he did not say anything—Barnes said, "Come along and wire away," and I said I would—Barnes and I went to the Eastbourne Street Post Office and I asked him to wait while I sent the wire to the stable—I sent a wire to Chief Inspector Fox, of New Scotland Yard—this telegram (Produced) is in my writing—I returned to the Mulberry Tree with Barnes and said to both of them, "The buyer will be here very shortly"—the police came about twenty minutes afterwards and took us all into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I am quite certain that when I got to the Mulberry Tree Wacher was there—I may have said before
the Magistrate, "My first conversation with Wacher was in the Mulberry Tree; I was there about ten minutes before he came"—I will not swear that Wacher was there first, but I think he was—he took some bread and meat from his pocket and called for some lemonade—when I went into the public-house I did not hear a man Bay to Wacher, "Halloa, it is a long time since I have seen you; are you at work now?"—I do not know anything about the man asking him to have a drink and introducing him to me—I will not say if it is false or not—Wacher was introduced to me by Barnes outside the public-house—I treated Wacher to a drink; I did not ask him to drink whisky—I cannot say who I gave my order for drink to—Wacher only drank lemonade—I did not ask him what he was loaded with—he did not tell me it was cloth going to South Africa—I did not suggest to him doing the stuff in—I know what you mean by that—there was a penny-in-the-slot organ in the public-house—a penny was put in the slot, but I did not dance; a man who was there did—I do not know him—I did not tell Wacher that I could get a buyer for the goods in a minute—he did not say he had no intention of stealing them—I may have given information to Inspector Fox before—my line of business is not to get hold of a man who robs his employer and take the stolen stuff to a stable, some being taken to a receiver—I do not then give information to the police, so that the man is convicted while I get the balance of the stuff and my reward—that would be dishonest, and is not what I would do—I decline to say whether I have been here before, or whether I have been in penal servitude—I have never been in penal servitude seven years; I do not know if it was only five—I have not had penal servitude for five years more than once—I decline to answer if it was here—I have never been concerned in this building in van robberies before; I do not know if it was at the Sessions—I have been convicted three times; they are seventeen years ago—I have not been found out since—I cannot tell you how many times I have given information to the police—I have given information about receivers upon whom stolen property has been found, but not all of it.
By the COURT. I did not have any of this stolen property.
Cross-examined by MR. THORN. It was 1.30 that I met Barnes s—at times I have to do with horse racing—I am in a position to get racing tips, but I keep them to myself—I did not say to Barnes when I met him on this afternoon, "I can get you a tip"—I know that I said at the Police Court that I first met Wacher inside the public-house, but I think I have made a mistake there.
Re-examined. I have every reason to believe that Wacher was in the public-house first, because at 3.30 I said to Barnes, "Tell him to go to the Mulberry Tree and I will be there," so I think he must have been there first—I go by the name of Horsehair.
Tree I saw a horse and van belonging to Thomas King, containing eight full cases and six empty ones and a bale—no one was in charge of it—I went into the public-house and saw the two prisoners and two other men, one of them being Michaels—I said, "Whose horse and van is this outside?"—Wacher said, "It is mine, but I have lost my notes"—I took him to mean that he had lost his delivery notes—there were two other officers with me, and I said to Wacher, "We are police officers and we have received information that you have been all engaged in attempting to dispose of this load of goods outside, and you will all have to come to the Station"—Barnes said, "I have only just met him; I do not know anything about it"—I took it that he was referring to Wacher—Barnes said, "You are not going to take me without a go for it"—he became very violent—I sent for assistance—he was overpowered and taken to the station, where he made a statement—Wacher was then present—Barnes said, "I am sorry I did not tell you the truth in the pub. I met the carman about three weeks ago at the Ten Bells public-house; he was with a woman. To-day when I met him he had a van load of pounds. He asked me whether I could find a buyer, because he was going to do them in if he could find a buyer. I told him I could find one and I took him to Horsehair Michaels; we went back to the public-house and he (Wacher) said he should tell his employer he had left his horse and van load of goods outside a coffee house while he went in to get some refreshment, and whilst he was there his horse and van was taken away, and that is how he should account for the loss of it"—he said that at Michaels' suggestion he went with him to a post office in Eastbourne Street—Michaels went in and sent a telegram to a man who was supposed to have a stable and they went back to the public-house just as we came in—Wacher made no reply then—the statement he made in reply to the charge was taken down by other officers—when Barnes was charged on the 25th he said, referring to Wacher, "He asked for Horsehair"—Michaels' name is Horsehair—I know he has given information to the police.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I had probably been near the Mulberry Tree about fifteen minutes before I went in—I did not see Horse-hair go in; I had not seen him that day—I went with Divall and Leeson to the Mulberry Tree—I know all about Horsehair—when I went into the Mulberry Tree Wacher did not say that he had lost his shipping notes, which made him too late for the docks; he simply said he had lost his notes—Divall took Michaels to the station, and I and Leeson remained at the public-house—I took Barnes, and Leeson took Wacher.
By the COURT. They were arrested at 4 p.m., I should say if anything it was before 4, but it was not later—it was about ten minutes to 4 when I went into the public-house—Michaels came out with Divall immediately after 4, and was taken direct to the station—there is a considerable distance between the post office and the public-house; about seven or eight minutes' walk—it is possible that Michaels got into the public-house without my seeing him—I cannot account for the time, as the telegram was handed in at 4 o'clock—a uniform sergeant took the van to the station—Michaels was probably detained three or fours hours before we could get
the reply back to the effect that Inspector Fox had received the telegram—I made the entry in my pocket book, but I did not look particularly at the time—it is possible that Michaels and Barnes came out of the public-house without my seeing them, because the van obstructed my view, I being across the road—Barnes was taken to Leman Street police station—he made his statement in the charge room—I am certain it was made in Wacher's presence—it was read over to Wacher on the following day, and Wacher said something, but I cannot say what it was—I wrote Barnes's statement down immediately after he had made it, and he said it was right—I read it over to Wacher next day, but I did not take down what reply he made; Sergeant Leeson took it down.
Re-examined. Michaels had no opportunity of sending a telegram after he was taken into custody.
BENJAMIN LEESON (Detective H.) On May 24th I was with Divall and Wensley about 4 p.m. in Mulberry Street—we went to the Mulberry Tree, and inside I saw the two prisoners and two other men—I arrested Wacher—at first he did not go quietly to the station; he was very violent at first—on the way to the station he said, "You are bit before your time; this time you will have a job to do me. I know what I am talking about; I have only had two small lemons to-day"—after the charge Wacher turned round to Barnes and said, "If you had not opened your mouth we could easily have got out of this; you and the other one ought to have twenty years each"—I believe he referred to Michaels—next day I took him to the Police Court in a cab—on the way he said, "I have not seen Barnes for years until this; it is all through him. I have tried to go straight. He was taking me to Horsehair, or I should not have known him"—I heard Wensley read over Barnes's statement in Wacher's presence—I did not hear Wacher say anything—Barnes said, "It is quite right"—before the Magistrate I said, "When Barnes made his statement Wacher denied it"; that is correct—I had not the least idea until late in the day that a telegram had been sent—Michaels was allowed to go when I heard of it.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I did not make any note of what Wacher said on hearing Barnes's statement read—I have been in the "H" Division for fourteen years—on the second day there was another inspector on duty—the charge was not really taken until the second day, when Wacher denied the truth of the statement.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. It was on the way to the Police Court on the 25th that Wacher said, "I have not seen Barnes for years"—the other statement, "You are a bit before your time," was made on the way to the station—Barnes was perfectly sober.
THOMAS DIVALL (Inspector H.) I was present when the prisoners were taken into custody and I took Michaels to the station—I have had charge of this case—the prisoners were not arrested in consequence of any telegram sent to or received from Scotland Yard—Michaels could not have sent a telegram after he was in custody, so he must have been arrested about 4.30—he was detained for five or six hours, and when I found that he had sent the telegram I let him go.
The prisoners' statement before the Magistrates: Wacher: "I am, not guilty. I reserve my defence." Barnes: "I desire this written statement to be attached to the depositions. 'Kindly take note of this statement. Last Wednesday, May 24th, when taken into custody I was put into a room with another witness. There I was asked a few different questions concerning this case. I answered no questions whatever, was therefore put into a cell until next morning and charged. The statement being read out, I contradicted it, but no notice was taken, sir. This statement that is supposed to have been written by me is a downright falsehood. It is a statement not very cleverly made by the witness Horsehair and his confederates. I therefore say that I contradict all statements supposed to have been written by me unless they are signed with my signature. Sir, I am not at all surprised at Horsehair Michaels having bad intention towards me, as he told me he would do me a turn some day at which I took no notice of at the time being. He has now had his revenge not by fair means, but by false. Sir, I believe that the other prisoner is really innocent of the charge brought against him.' "
Wacher, in his defence on oath, said that he had lost his shipping notes and was therefore too late to go to the docks, but he went to the Mulberry Tree, where he met Barnes, whom he knew before, and Michaels, whom he did not know; that Michaels asked him to have some whisky and tried to make him drunk; that he would not have any; that Michaels said something about doing the stuff in and said he could find a buyer in a minute; that he (Wacher) did not say anything to them; that Michaels said he was going to send a telegram off; that when he returned, he (Wacher) said to Michaels that he had no intention of doing the stuff in; that when the officers came in he was not violent until somebody took his horse and van, when he thought he ought to defend his master's property; that he had not asked Michaels to find him a buyer to dispose of the stuff, but that it was Michaels who suggested it to him; and that he (Wacher) had been convicted six times altogether, but never for van robberies.
GUILTY . It was stated that there were several previous convictions against the prisoners, and that Wacher had one year and seventy-five days still to serve. Twelve months each without hard labour.
MR. BODKIN and MR. SYMMONS Prosecuted; MR. THORNE Defended. Frederick Skipper.
ARTHUR DORIN . I am divisional surgeon, and on June 5th I was called to Clapham police station about 6.15 p.m., where I saw Joel—he was In rather an exhausted state and suffering considerable pain—he appeared to have been engaged in a serious struggle—I examined him and found on his head, behind his right ear, a big swelling—in my opinion such an injury could have been caused by a kick or a blow of some sort—I put him on the sick list, where he is still—I think he will be likely to resume duty in a day or two, but you can never tell in
these cases if the injuries will be permanent; there may be some aftereffects to the brain—the same day I went to Bridport House and saw Edwin Green—he had the appearance of having had a blow in his mouth, his lips being cut—he had been rather seriously treated and was in a dazed condition—he was unable to give me an account of what had happened; he had undoubtedly been drinking, which I think might have had something to do with his condition.
HENRY JOEL (234 W.) About 5.30 p.m. on June 5th I was in Wands-worth Road—I know Spackman's ironmonger's shop—near it I saw four men removing a shovel from outside—two of the men were the prisoners, but neither of them attempted to move the shovel—I was in uniform—I went up to them—on my approach the man who had the shovel put it back—Alfred Skipper said, "Look out, here is a f—copper"—the four men crossed the road and stayed outside the Bell—I crossed to them and Alfred said, "What the f—hell do you want?"—I told him to get away out of it—he did not move; he was drunk—Frederick was also under the influence of drink—I took Alfred into custody, and he struck me in the face with his fist—Frederick tried to release his brother by catching hold of his left shoulder and pulling him away from me; he also struck me in the face with his left fist—my helmet was knocked off—I struggled with Alfred for about twenty yards, he endeavouring all the time to get away—he struggled violently—the other three men were endeavouring to get him away and striking me about the head and body with their fists—we were thrown to the ground in the struggle, and it was then that they struck me—I drew my truncheon and struck Alfred on his left arm—my truncheon was taken away from me by someone in the crowd which had collected—fifty or sixty persons had assembled—I cannot say who took my truncheon away—while I was on the ground with Alfred, the other men undone the neck-tie I was holding him by, and so he escaped—he ran a few yards down the road—I gave chase and caught him again in a narrow turning down by the side of the Bell—he did not run very fast; I got hold of him and went to throw him—he slipped and fell, and kicked me behind my ear with his right boot, which rendered me insensible—I remember nothing more until I saw several other constables around me—I was taken to the station and seen by the divisional surgeon and put on the sick list, and I am on it still—I did not know either of the prisoners before that night—on June 20th I saw a number of men at Clapham police station, and picked out Frederick from them—I am sure of him now—I was not certain of him at first, because he turned side face to me, looking out of the window, but next he turned full face—then I was certain of him—there were eight men present.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I have not said before to-day that Frederick was one of the men outside the ironmonger's shop—after I had his brother in custody he struck me with his clenched fist—in order to arrest Alfred I had to go a little way into the Bell—we were forced in there in the struggle—it was after I had first got hold of Alfred that Frederick struck me—we were outside the Bell then—Frederick did not do anything besides hitting me—I was not on the ground then—he struck
me several times—after my truncheon was taken away from me I did not see what became of it—when I did not at first identify Frederick, Detective Goggin asked me to have a good look at the men—that was after I had failed to identify him—Detective Hamilton said nothing to me.
By the COURT. I was at home in bed for fifteen days, but I went to the Clapham police station and identified Frederick.
EDWIN GREEN . I am a carpenter, of 4, Bridport House, Salwin Road, Wandsworth Road—I was in Wandsworth Road on June 5th, near the Bell, when I saw Joel on the ground—I did not know him until then—I did not know what was happening to him, but I came round the corner and got hold of his whistle to blow it for assistance—I do not know more than that, because I was knocked out—I do not know if I blew his whistle, but I tried to—I do not know what happened to me—I lost my senses altogether for twenty-four hours—I do not know if somebody struck me—I am right again now—when I recovered I was at home in bed—my mouth, was all cut, and my lips bruised.
ERNEST SPACKMAN . I am an ironmonger at 397, Wandsworth Road—on the afternoon of June 5th I heard Joel speak to some men outside my door—I saw a shovel which had been removed from its proper place, and after the men had been spoken to by the constable they went half way across the road towards the Bell, and stood there for some seconds until they were again ordered away by the constable, who went across to them—I saw him take hold of one of the two prisoners; I cannot say which—there was a struggle between the constable and one of the men—I did not go across then—I did shortly afterwards—I saw the constable lying on his back, and he was being knocked about and punched by two or three men—three, I think, were on top of him—one of the three I can identify as going across the road—it is Alfred Skipper—I do not remember seeing him doing anything to the constable, but he was one of those who was doing something—I did not see Green knocked down, but I saw him lying insensible—I saw the constable take out his truncheon after a short struggle on the pavement, when his helmet was knocked off—I did not see him use his truncheon—he ran round the corner after three men and I was unable to see him—it was then that I ran across the road and saw the constable lying on his back in the gutter, and three or four men striking him and lying on top of him—I saw Mrs. Clark standing there with the policeman's truncheon in her hand—I blew a whistle—it was not mine—it was the property of somebody standing in the crowd—after that other constables came, and I saw Alfred taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. At first outside the shop there were two men, Alfred and another—when the constable interfered they crossed the road—those were the only men standing near him at the time—the other man took hold of the first man and more or less dragged the policeman inside the Bell—during that time there were only two men—after that they dragged the policeman out, and there were three men—I had a splendid view of all this, and am quite certain about Alfred—three men went round the corner into the alley, followed by the constable with his truncheon in his hand—I do not remember seeing Frederick there, and I
think if I had seen him I should remember, but his back may have been to me, so he may have been there without my seeing him.
Cross-examined by Alfred. I did not say that I saw you strike the policeman—I saw you struggle.
Alfred. I own I was there, but I did not knock the policeman about.
Re-examined. I should say that the whole thing took from fifteen to twenty minutes, and about five minutes from the time it began until the man ran into the passage, but I did not time it.
LYDIA CLARK . I am the wife of Alfred William Clark, a railway porter, of 30, Acre Street, Battersea—on the afternoon of June 5th I was in Wandsworth Road, where I saw Joel speaking to four men—he was on the Ball side of the road—he got hold of Alfred, and there was a struggle between them, the other three going in—they set about the policeman and knocked him about—they got hold of him and struggled and knocked him down—I ran for help, but there was no one to help—I rushed up and pushed Alfred on one side and said, "You are a brute"—Alfred had nothing in his hand at that time—he used bad language—the constable was then lying down—Alfred ran down the turning by the Ball and the policeman got up and ran after him—the other men rushed the other way—I followed the policeman and Alfred—there was a struggle in the passage by the Bell—Alfred knocked the constable down—I had the truncheon in my hand then, I having snatched it away from Alfred—that was in the passage—there were forty or fifty people there; a lot won men—none of them rendered any assistance, so I had to take away the truncheon—it was taken away from me by Alfred, who hit the constable on the head and rendered him unconscious—he punched me in the face—I said nothing—I stopped with the constable who was left on the ground—some other constables came up and took Joel away—I did not recognise Frederick.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I did not know either of the prisoners before—I saw Alfred distinctly at the first struggle—the other men had their faces turned towards the Bell—Alfred was in the middle—the scene in the passage lasted two or three minutes—I am absolutely certain I took the truncheon away from Alfred; it was taken from my hand again—I do not know who by; it was not Alfred—I afterwards took the truncheon away again from Alfred, but I do not know how he got it.
Cross-examined by Alfred. You snatched the truncheon away from the constable by the side of the Bell—I did not go to hit you with the truncheon and instead of doing so hit the constable unconscious—I did not tell my mistress that I had hit the constable; I helped him and pushed you on one side—you said at the police station you left the truncheon in the gutter.
ADA APPLIN . I am a barmaid at the Bell—I was there about 5.30 p.m. on June 5th—the kitchen window opens on to the side of the passage—I heard a noise and looked out of the window and saw a policeman strugglingon the ground with a man who I cannot recognise, and who he was trying to get into custody—I saw two other men besides—I recognise Frederick Skipper as one of them; I knew him before as a customer—I saw him take a truncheon out of Mrs. Clark's hand, but I did not see what he did
with it—I did not see how Mrs. Clark became possessed of the truncheon—when I opened the window she had it in her hand—I was then called to business in the house—about a fortnight later I went to the Westminster police station and saw a number of men, and picked out Frederick from about a dozen as the man who I saw take the truncheon from Mrs. Clark—I have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. When I went to the police station I was certain in my own mind who had taken the truncheon from the woman, but I did not know him by name, although I knew him very well by sight—I immediately picked out the customer—it would be untrue to say that Alfred took the truncheon from Mrs. Clark—I saw the man who took the truncheon away full in the face—Mrs. Clark was standing side face to me.
JAMES HAYLEY . I am a commercial traveller at 5, Reverdy Road, Bermondsey—I was on a tram-car going along Wandsworth Road on June 5th, when I saw Joel surrounded by a number of men and having a struggle with somebody—I could not see anything, except that it was a struggle and that there were three or four taking part in it—it was in a side turning by the Bell—I got off the tram-car and went to the constable—he was in the act of failing; his helmet went flying off; he had his truncheon in his hard—I believe he was about to strike Alfred—he fell to the ground and the crowd, intervening, obscured my view—I noticed a man in the crowd with a truncheon; I should describe him as a tall man—it was not Alfred—I did not see where he got the truncheon from—he was in the act of using it when I saw a woman in the crowd rush forward and snatch it from his hand—the next thing I saw was that both the prisoners were on top or mixed up with the policeman on the ground—I may say that I am morally certain of the tall man (Frederic); I picked him out at the station—I went down the line; I mean I got to the centre where he was standing, and feel certain he was the man—I looked at the others and then returned to him—all the men were much of a size; I touched him—it was at Clapham police station about June 20th—there were about a dozen men there—when I touched him I said, "I believe that is the man"—I had his height and general appearance in my mind, and his characteristic features, such as his high cheek bones—on the afternoon of the 5th, when the prisoners were mixed up with the policeman, they ran away together—the tall man ran to the bottom of the road, turned to the right and broke off towards Battersea Park Road—Alfred ran, I believe, into a coal and coke shed—Frederick was not arrested until much latest—Alfred was arrested a few minutes afterwards—I told the policeman where he was, and saw him brought out—I saw Green on his back, unconscious—I also saw Mrs. Clark; she was not injured—I remember giving my evidence on the second occasion at the Police Court against Frederick, and his putting questions to me—in reference to my evidence that he ran away, he said, I did not run, I walked"—he put the questions himself, and when he cross-examined me I said, "I recognise you by your general features and particularly by your high cheek bones."
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I think I have said before to-day that I thought that Frederick struck the constable—I think possibly I said it at the police station and I inferred it when I was before the Magistrate—I am quite certain that Mrs. Clark took the truncheon from Frederick I am aware that she says she took it from Alfred.
WILLIAM PUFFETT (233 W.) I was in Wandsworth Road on June 5th at 5.30 p.m. and heard a police whistle in the direction of New Road—I ran there and saw Green lying on the path, apparently insensible, and a little further on I saw Joel lying, apparently insensible—I was told by Mr. Hayley that one man who had assaulted the constable had gone into a stable—I went in there and saw Alfred trying to conceal himself behind a horse—he said to me, "You f—s—, I will do you in as well"—I took him into custody, and, with the assistance of Rogers, took him to the station—he was drunk—when charged he said he had only been out about an hour—I saw nothing of Frederick.
WALTER ROGERS (458 W.) I was at Clapham station on June 5th at 5.30 p.m., when I heard police whistles blowing in the direction of Wandsworth Road—I went in that direction and saw a crowd at the top of Howard Street, which is the turning by the Bell—I went down the street and saw Joel lying on his back, apparently unconscious—in consequence of what Hayley told me I followed Puffett into a stable in Richmond Place, and saw Alfred in the corner trying to conceal himself behind a horse—on Puffett approaching him he said, "You f—s—, I will do you in as well"—we took him to the station—I did not see Frederick.
CHARLES GOGGIN (Sergeant W.) On June 20th I saw Frederick at the Clapham police station—a warrant had been issued for the arrest of three men, and as he answered the description of one of them he was arrested—I read the warrant to him—it was for an assault upon Joel—he said, "No, I never did so"—I said he would be placed with others for identification, and said, "Do you wish to have anybody present here on your behalf to see that the identification is carried out properly?"—he said, "Yes, I should like to have my wife here, and also my sister"—I fetched both—he was put with eight other men and I said to him, "Are you quite satisfied with these other men?"—he said, "No, I am not; I will not stand up, I will sit down"—some forms were fetched in and the whole of the men sat down—Joel came in and had a look at the men and said, "I do not think the man is here"—I said, "Have a good look"—the men were then sitting, and Frederick had his Bide face towards him—Joel then looked at the man and said, "I believe that is the man," pointing to Frederick, and immediately afterwards said, "I am sure that is the man"—three others failed to identify him—that was about 3 p.m.—I told him he would be put up for identification again, and about 6 o'clock twelve other men were put up with him and he was picked out by Mr. Hayley—I asked him if he was quite satisfied and he said, "Yes"—I asked him if he had any objection to signing my pocket book, and he did so—the following morning at the Police Court he was placed with, about ten others, and Aplin picked him out without any hesitation.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. There was some hesitation in the identification by Joel, but none with regard to Hayley. (The witness was complimented by the COURT on the manner in which he conducted the identification.)
LYDIA CLARK (Re-examined by MR. THORNE). I said at the Police Court, "The prisoner," that is Alfred, "hit the policeman and knocked him down, and I went and helped the policeman. The prisoner then had the policeman's staff. I took it from him; I pushed the prisoner and said, 'You are a brute.' The prisoner ran away; the constable went after him; I followed. The prisoner got hold of the constable again, twisted him round and threw him down and snatched the truncheon from me"—that is true—I am quite certain it was Alfred—no other man was there—I did not see the truncheon in anybody else's hand—Alfred took it out of my hand and hit him unconscious—the man who snatched it out of my hand was not Alfred—I do not know who it was, but Alfred got it again—I had it in my hand again—whether I got it from him I do not know.
Frederick Skipper, in his defence on oath, said that on June 5th he was with Wing in the Albion in Stewart's Road, Battersea, four or five minutes' walk from the Bell; that he and Wing then went to the New Road and saw a crowd; that he (Frederick) walked over and saw his brother lying on the ground with his face cut; that Joel was also on the ground; that he (Frederick) picked his brother up, who was drunk, and told him to go home; that he and his brother both fell over; that they managed to get on their feet; that Alfred went through Richmond Place into a coal cellar; that he (Frederick) went to the bottom of a turning and then saw two policemen go into the cellar; that he then went home and told his other brother and mother that Alfred had got into trouble; that that was all he knew of the disturbance; and that he had asked Wing in the Albion to lend him a shilling, which he did not do.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRY WING . I live at 35, Patmore Street, Battersea—between 5.15 and 5.45 p.m. on June 5th I was going down to Wandsworth Road station—I went down Stewart Road, where I met Frederick walking towards me—he said, "How are you?"—I took him into the Albion and we had a glass of ale, and he started asking me about cricket—I left the Albion at 5.50 and he left me—I lent him a shilling, because he asked me for one to go and have some tea with—I had not taken a good deal of drink that day—Frederick seemed sober to me—I did not hear of this row until two days afterwards.
Cross-examined. I did not meet Frederick by appointment—I was reading a paper as he came along—I had not seen him for a week or a fortnight—I only know him from working on the same job—I paid for the drink—we only had one glass each—I changed half a crown and lent him a shilling—he has never paid it back—I have not seen him since—I went home and never came out any more that night—I am a coal porter and take the coal out—Frederick works on the wharf.
GUILTY . Alfred then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the South Western Police Court on February 24th, 1905, and Frederick to a conviction of felony at Newington Sessions on April 20th, 1904. One
previous conviction was proved against Alfred and three against Frederick. The police stated that Fredrick was very violent when arrested, and that both prisoners hung about outside public-houses. Three years' penal servitude each. The RECORDER highly commended Mrs. Clark for her behaviour, and regretted that it was not within his power to make her a reward.
NEW COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, July 3rd and 4th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. C. H. LE MAISTRE Prosecuted; MR. WATT Defended.
ROBERT BERRY . I live at 89, Cranfield Road, Brockley, and am wharf manager to Fisher Renwick & Co., wharf owners, at the London Docks, Shadwell—on May 8th Wiigglesworth, an employe of theirs, was sent to Lloyd's Bank in Lombard Street with a cheque to cash for £60, labourers' wages—he had a brown leather bag—on his return he had not the money—he seemed terrified, and his collar was marked with dirty finger marks—he said he had lost the bag.
SIDNEY WRIGGLESWORTH . I live in Leytonstone, and am in the employ of Fisher Renwick & Co.—about 10 a.m. on May 8th I was sent to cash a cheque for £60 at Lloyd's Bank—I cashed it and had the money in gold and silver in a brown leather bag in my left hand—when in High Street, Shadwell, just outside the Crown, I was attacked from behind and robbed of the money—I was thrown face downwards on the ground, and I saw four men running away with the bag—I got up and ran to the top of Charles Street and saw them right at the other end, running—I could not see any of their faces—I went to the police and gave some information—I saw that one of the men running away had the bag under his left arm.
THOMAS ALEXANDER TOLE . I am a traveller, of 388, Strume Road, Manor Park—at 10.30 a.m. on May 8th I was close to High Street, Shadwell, when I saw four men running, of whom one was the prisoner—he had a small brown bag under his arm—he was about eight yards from me—I cannot say what street they were running down—it was about thirty or forty yards from High Street—on June 16th I went to the police station, where I saw a number of men, from whom I picked out the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I can usually fix the time by the time I call on my customers—I did not hear any shouts—I thought there was something wrong, but I did not think I was entitled to stop anyone—if I had heard "Stop thief" I should have endeavoured to stop him—I was in the alleyway, where the men were running—it all happened within a minute—I saw the prisoner's full face coming towards me and then his side face—he went right down to the bottom of the alley, about forty yards, and he was then lost to sight—I could recognise the other three men if I saw them again.
By the COURT. The prisoner was quite a stranger to me.
ALBERT HELSON (Sergeant H.) At 2 a.m. on June 16th, in company with other officers, I went to Caroline Street, which is a turning off the Commercial Road—I saw the prisoner in bed with his brother, and I said to him, "I shall arrest you on suspicion of being concerned with three other men not in custody in robbing one Sidney Wrigglesworth and stealing from his person £60 in gold and silver at High Street, Shadwell, at 10.45 a.m. on May 8th"—he made no reply—he was taken to the station—at 1 p.m. the same day he was placed with a number of other men for identification, and was very readily identified by Tole—when charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. He is not known to the police at all.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate; "I have witnesses to prove I was indoors till 2.30 p.m."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on the day before this, Sunday, he came home about 11.30 p.m., and did not go out on the following day till 2.30 p.m.; that he could remember that Monday well, because his brother came home from hospital on that day; that the house he occupied had two rooms only; that from his bedroom, where he slept with his brother, access could not be gained to the street without the knowledge of his mother and sister, who slept in the outer room; that he had never been in a Police Court before; and that on being aroused from deep and arrested he did not understand what it was, and said nothing.
MAURICE MALONEY . I am the prisoner's brother, and live with him, occupying the same bed—there are two rooms, the whole family sleeping in the same room—we are very poor—my mother and sister live with us—I remember May 8th, because I left my work to go to the London Hospital to get a bottle of lotion, and I took a note of the date, so that I should be able to tell my employers if I should have to give an account of myself—my wages were not docked—I work in the shipping in Leaden-hall Street—I told my mother and sister on May 8th that I was going to the London Hospital—I saw my brother in bed that day—I cannot say whether he went to work that day—he is a dock labourer—he did not seem to me to be in possession of a good deal of money.
ELIZA MALONEY . I am the prisoner's mother—I remember on a Monday in May my son Maurice coming home for a bottle to go to the hospital—the prisoner was in bed when he came in—he did not come in till past 11 on the Sunday night—from 11 p.m. till 2 p.m. the next day he did not go out of the house—he could not have gone without my seeing him—he sleeps with his brother.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WATT Prosecuted; MR. WARDE Defended.
JOSEPH RICHARD BAILEY . I am a carman, of 8, Ducal Street, Bethnal Green—I have seen the prisoner knocking about Bethnal Green—on the evening of Saturday, May 27th, I was sitting at my door with my wife, my brother, and his young lady, Annie Whitehead, when I saw six or
seven chips on the opposite side of the street, or whom the prisoner was one, and one on my side—the one on my side called out, "Jack," and on his doing so my brother, who had been sitting down, jumped up—the one that holloaed out "Jack" then shouted, "Let go," and one of the six or seven on the other side fired—there were four shots altogether, the second one hitting my brother in the leg—the first shot hit nobody—I rushed over the road to try and get hold of one of them, and I caught hold of one—is I had him in my arms another man put a revolver in my face—my wife screamed out, and I let go and took protection behind a lamp post—the man then fired and the bullet took a little piece out of the lamp post, passing by my face and grazing my coat—that was the third shot—they then all ran away, when one of them turned round and fired the fourth shot into the middle of us—whether it hit anybody I cannot say—it did not hit me—among the six or seven running away was the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I saw three men firing revolvers—I have not said that before, because I was not asked—this was at 12.4 a.m. at the latest—I cannot say whether my brother is on bad terms with a lot of fellows in the neighbourhood—I do not associate with them myself—I know he stabbed a man named Woodhams some months ago—I said Overy was one of the men concerned in this shooting—the Magistrate discharged him—I did not make a mistake about him at all—I expect the Magistrate made a mistake—on May 20th I met the prisoner in the White Hart, High Street, Shoreditch, when in company with my brother, his young lady, and my wife—I heard the prisoner say to my brother, "Will you apologise?"—my brother said, "No; what I do not do, I am not going to apologise for"—the prisoner said, "All right, I will go down the lane and tell the boys"—I have not told about that conversation before, because I have not been asked—I did not hear my brother say to the prisoner, "Well, I am in for it again," nor did I hear the prisoner say, "What?"—I did not hear my brother say, "With the boys in the lane," nor did I hear the prisoner say, "Why don't you stop it? You don't want to get into any more rows"—my brother might have been in rows—he is living with me—on the night of the shooting I had been up Hackney Road, along Cambridge Heath, where my wife, my brother, and his young woman bought a clock and two images, and we were home at 12 p.m.—the street was not empty, but it was not full—there were one or two people walking home from the public-house—it would surprise me if the prisoner could prove he was not among the six or seven—I do not suggest that he or Overy had a pistol—when I caught hold of Overy a constable came up and he was taken in charge.
Re-examined. The policeman came up after the third shot was fired.
REBECCA BAILEY . I am the wife of Joseph Richard Bailey, and live at 8, Ducal Street, Bethnal Green—about 12 p.m. on May 27th I was sitting with my husband, my brother-in-law, and his young woman when six or seven young men came along the opposite side of the street and one on our side—he stood against the window ledge and called, "Jack"—I have no doubt at all that the prisoner was one of the six or seven—my brother-in-law is known as "Jack Bailey"—he stood up
and the man who had called "Jack" said, "Let it go," and a shot was fired from the opposite side by one of the six or seven—there were four shots altogether, the second bringing John to the ground—we all ran across the road at them, and my husband caught one—one of them then pointed a revolver at his face and I screamed—my husband then got behind the lamp post for protection—the man then shot and hit the lamp post, cutting my husband's face and grazing his coat at the shoulder—the men then ran away and the policeman came up—the prisoner ran away with the others.
Cross-examined. This could not have been more than two minutes past 12—I had known the prisoner come time by sight—he was not on bad terms with my brother-in-law as far as I am aware—I never go out with my brother-in-law—he lives upstairs with his mother—he is not on bad terms with a lot of fellows in the neighbourhood that I am aware of—I heard that he stabbed a man named Woodhams—I do not think Woodhams is a friend of the prisoner—it was settled between him and my brother-in-law—I have net heard that there was any bad feeling in the neighbourhood about that—I was quite sure that Overy was among the six or seven—I believe the Magistrate discharged him—I do not think that I was mistaken about him—I could recognise three of the six or seven—I do not know them.
ANNIE WHITEHEAD . I am single—I live at 21, Gibraltar Gardens, and keep company with Jack Bailey—about midnight on May 27th I was sitting on his doorstep at 8, Ducal Street, with Jack, Joseph and Rebecca Bailey, when I saw six or seven men come up on the other side of the road, and one on our side who said, "Jack," meaning Jack Bailey—as Jack looked up the one that was by himself shouted, "Let go," and then from across the road came the report of a pistol—the prisoner was one of the six or seven standing next to the man who fired—I have no doubt that it was him—I knew him before—the second shot which was fired by Culligan hit Jack Bailey—Joseph Bailey ran towards them and he caught one, but he had to let go to save his face from being blown out—another report came—there were four shots fired altogether—they all ran away, among them being the prisoner—the policeman then came up.
Cross-examined. They fired a shot as they were running—I did not see Overy until he was in the constable's hands—I did not see how many men were clean shaven like the prisoner—they were as far as the length of this Court from me.
JOHN BAILEY . I am sometimes called "Jack" and sometimes "John"—I live at 8, Ducal Street, Bethnal Green, and am a furniture polisher—on May 20th the prisoner called me outside the White Hart and said, "What is this affair on?"—I said, "It is only over a glass of ale"—he asked me who it was, and I told him that it was a man named Jim Brewer, a boxer—he said, "Look out for yourself. Look what sort of fellow he is; you had better not have much to say to him"—I said, "I know what sort of fellow he is. He is too good for me. I am not going to treat him every time I see him just because he is a boxer"—he said, "All right, I will go down and tell him"—about midnight on May 27th
I was sitting on the doorstep of 8, Ducal Street, with Annie Whitehead, my brother, and his wife, when a young man came to the window-ledge and called me by the name of "Jack"—I got up to go towards him, when he said, "Let go," and a report came from the other side of the street where Culligan, the prisoner, and several others were standing—the prisoner was standing by Culligan, who fired the second shot, which hit me in my leg—I fell, and my young woman came and helped me to the door—I do not know what happened afterwards—I was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. I have not had a good many rows lately—I have been in some rows when my life has been tortured, but not many—I had a row with Brewer because I would not treat him—I stabbed Woodhams—I have known the prisoner some time—I was never in the White Hart with him—it was outside that I had a talk with him—I did not say to him on May 20th, when he asked me, that I was in for a row with the boys down the lane—he did not say, "Why don't you stop it? What do you want to get into any more rows for?" or anything like it—I did not say, "They will have to do what they can; they will have either to do me in or I will do them in"—doing in means to get a hiding—he did not say after he advised me as to Brewer, "I will try and stop the row"—he has caused it—I had been for a walk previous to this shooting affair—I had only had four or five drinks—I went out just after 8 p.m.—I was not intoxicated—I do not know what has become of Culligan—I only saw him with the prisoner, and he is the only man I saw shoot—the prisoner is in with the whole lot of them, as is Brewer.
RICHARD BAILEY . I am a furniture polisher, of 36, Warner Place, Hackney Road, and am brother of John Bailey—about 8 p.m. on May 23rd I saw the prisoner in Sclater Street in company with two other men—he called to me and said, "You have a brother named Jack"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Well, we are going to put him through it"—I asked him the meaning of "putting him through it," and he said, "Why, to kill him," and he turned to one of the two men with him and said, "Won't we, Mullis?"—I have no doubt that it was the prisoner who spoke to me—he showed me a revolver when he said that—I made no answer.
Cross-examined. I do not know Mullis, nor did I know the prisoner before May 23rd—I was very much surprised and shocked—I ought to have called a policeman—I did not follow them—I did not tell my brother, but I told my mother at 9 p.m. that day—I hardly see my brother—if he had been there when I saw my mother, I should have told him—I have never seen Mullis again.
JAMES GILLETT (344 H.) About midnight on May 27th I was in Brick Lane, when I heard four revolver shots proceeding from Granby Street down Ducal Street—I went down to see what was the matter and found Sidney Overy detained by Joseph Bailey, who made a communication to me—I took Overy to the station.
THOMAS SMART (Detective H.) About 11.30 a.m. on May 28th I saw the prisoner in Brick Lane—I said, "Newman, I am going to take you into custody for being concerned with others in committing a serious offence at Ducal Street late last night. The sergeant will tell you the charge
at the police station"—he said, "All right; I was quarrelling with a neighbour of mine from 12 o'clock till 3 in the morning"—he was taken to the station, where he was identified.
Cross-examined. He did not say that he was quarrelling with some neighbours till 2 a.m.
JOSEPH PULLEN (Detective-Sergeant H.) At 11.30 a.m. on May 28th I was with Smart when the prisoner was taken to the station—I told him that he would be detained for being concerned with a man named Overy and other persons with shooting a man named Joseph Richard Bailey at midnight in Ducal Street, Bethnal Green"—he said, "I was not out with the crowd last night. I am innocent of this. I was in bed at half-past 12"—he was afterwards placed amongst ten other men, and three witnesses pointed him out as being the man who was with Culligan—the prisoner lives at 6, Granby Street—yesterday morning I paced the distance between the house and Ducal Street—holding my watch in my hand, and walking smartly, I did the distance in three minutes.
Cross-examined. It is not five or ten minutes' walk—the time it took to walk would, of course, depend on the strides.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on May 20th Jack Bailey, with whom he had never had a quarrel or bad feeling, told him that he was "in it" again with the boys down the lane, and that he (the prisoner) said he would try and stop it; that on the night in question he went out with his young woman at 9.30, returning with her to Granby Street at 12.2 p.m., when he found at the doorway Maney, Miss Kemp, and Mr. and Mrs. Welsh, who were having a row, which he stopped; that he was never in Ducal Street at all that evening, and was not concerned in any way with the firing; that Richard Bailey's evidence as to his saying to him that he (the prisoner) intended to kill his brother was pure invention; and that he had never had a revolver in his hand in his life.
Evidence for the Defence.
LIZZIE STANTON . I live at 6, Granby Street, Bethnal Green, and I walk out with the prisoner—on the evening of May 27th I went out with him between 9.30 and 10 up Shoreditch—we went into the Lord Nelson, the White Hart and the Van Tromp—from the Van Tromp we went home to 6, Granby Street—on getting home I found at the door my mother and father, the prisoner's mother, Mr. Maney, Nell Kemp, and Mr. and Mrs. Welsh—Mr. and Mrs. Welsh were quarrelling and the prisoner tried to stop it and persuaded them to go in—we got to Granby Street between five and ten minutes past 12; I did not notice the exact time—from the time I had been out with him he had never been out of my sight I do not know where Ducal Street is—we were not in any street where shots were fired.
Cross-examined. We sat in the Van Tromp, which is about three or four minutes' walk from Granby Street, till closing time—I only go out with the prisoner on Saturday and Sunday nights.
and 12.15 a.m., I was going home through Granby Street, when I saw the prisoner at his door with his young woman and several other people—he shouted out, "Good-night" to me, and I shouted, "Good-night, Bill," and that is all that passed.
Cross-examined. I fix the time because the public-house across the road was just closing—I had been to Chilton Street on a visit to my young woman, and I left her at the door just as the public-house was closing—the Van Tromp is about three minutes' walk from Granby Street—I do not know where Ducal Street is exactly.
Re-examined. Just as I left my young woman the church clock struck 12—Chiltern Street is about three minutes' walk from Granby Street.
NELLIE KEMP . I live at 4, Granby Street, next door to the prisoner—on this Saturday night I was sitting at the door from 7 o'clock; it is a usual thing to do in our neighbourhood—about midnight I saw the prisoner with his young lady come home together—he spoke to me before he went to his own door—I remember the time so exactly, because there is a beer-house just opposite to where I live, and it had just closed—Mr. and Mrs. Welsh were indoors.
Cross-examined. I am sure it was not more than 12.3 a.m.—this beer-house is very particular; it always closes at 12.
By the COURT. I did not take much notice of Mr. and Mrs. Welsh; I believe they were at the door when the prisoner and his young woman came up—I know they had a bit of a row and the prisoner spoke to them.
JAMES WELSH . On this Saturday night I was drinking in the Black Bull in Granby Street, about six doors from where I live—I left there just at dosing time, 12 midnight—I had not had a little drop too much—when I got home my missus started nagging for my being out so late, and I up with my hand and gave her a smack, and she made a kick at me—this happened in the passage—the prisoner was outside, and he came and told me not to have a row but to go indoors, and with that I went inside with the missus, who still kept on nagging—it was about 12.2 a.m. when I came into my door; the prisoner was outside when I was going in.
Cross-examined. I had been quarrelling with my wife about a minute when the prisoner came in.
ESTHER WELSH . James Welsh is my husband, and I live at 6, Granby Street—on this Saturday night my husband came in just as the public-houses closed—we were having a bit of a quarrel when the prisoner came in and parted us—then we went straight indoors some little time after 12.
Cross-examined. We occupy the ground floor of the house; I met my husband just at the doorstep—the prisoner was outside the door with his young woman—she lives in the same house.
By the COURT. When I came to the door to look for my husband the prisoner was speaking to his young woman—we started quarrelling in the passage.
up, not after 12.4 or 12.5 a.m., because the beer-house opposite had just closed—there were several people round the door—Mr. and Mrs. Welsh were rowing.
Cross-examined. I was liberated in November last, after twelve months for house-breaking—I saw Welsh come up—the prisoner was there then; he was there about a minute before—I cannot tell you where the prisoner came from; Welsh said he came from the public-house—I heard him tell his wife on her asking him.
GEORGE KEMP . I am a cabinet maker, of 4, Granby Street, and I know the prisoner, who lives next door to me—Nellie Kemp is my sister—on this Saturday night I was in company with my father and one or two friends in a public-house in Hare Street—after the public-house closed we stood about fifteen or twenty minutes outside, and then went home, getting there between 12.10 and 12.20 a.m.—I saw there Maney, my sister, Mr. and Mrs. Welsh, the prisoner, and, I believe, one or two others.
Cross-examined. Mr. and Mrs. Welsh were having a row; I did not see the beginning of it—I did not take sufficient notice to hear the first words—I told the prisoner that Sidney Overy, the bookmaker's clerk, had been took up—Arthur Evans, a friend of mine, had told me so in Brick Lane, which is a stone's throw from Granby Street—I knew Overy was a friend of the prisoner's; they are all friends—I know Overy, because when I want a little bit on a horse he takes it—the prisoner was sitting on the window ledge when I told him this—he said nothing—I heard someone holloaing about this time; I was given to understand it was the Welshs—I did not take sufficient notice to see if the prisoner was with anybody.
Re-examined. Overy is known as a bookmaker's clerk—I did not know what he had been locked up for, and I did not care—I had no particular reason in telling the prisoner that—we all know him, because we put out shillings on horses through him.
By the COURT. Just as I was coming home Evans told me about Overy—I did not stop at all; I said, "I do not want to know anything about it."
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, June 26th 1905.
563. JOHN EDWARDS (62) PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling house of Walter Deverell Welford and stealing a clock and other articles, having been convicted of felony at Wakefield on October 13th, 1902, as Thomas Bell . Four other convictions were proved against him. Six months' hard labour. —And
(564.) MAUD TUCKER (20) to stealing twenty pairs of knickers, the property of William Westerly from the person of Benjamin Tuttle; also to stealing a watch, the property of James Robertson from his person, having been convicted of felony at the Clerkenwell Sessions on December 22nd, 1903. Two other convictions were proved against her. Fifteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
New Court, June 29th, 1905.
MR. JENKINS Prosecuted; MR. KERSHAW Defended.
JAMES JOHNSON . I am a labourer, of 15, Sarah Street, Tidal Basin—about 11.40 p.m. on May 26th I was in Sarah Street—I was quite sober—the prisoner, who was with two or three other men, came up and hit me on the side of my face—he then got hold of my throat and they threw me to the ground and rifled my pockets—the prisoner put his handkerchief over my mouth to prevent my calling out—there was 4s. 3d. in money in my pocket, which they took, and some loose tobacco—a constable then came up—I saw the prisoner again next morning at 4 a.m. and identified him from eight other men—there was one other coloured man there.
Cross-examined. I told the inspector that the man who robbed me was a man of colour—I was a little confused when I identified him because I had just been woke up out of bed—the police station is about thirty or forty yards from where I was in bed—I hesitated about half a minute; I would not tie myself to a minute; I hesitated a minute or two till I was sure of my man—I knew the prisoner before, and when he assaulted me I asked him what I had done to him—I told the police sergeant that—they never asked me at the Police Court about that—the prisoner was in front of me when he caught me by the throat—I do not know whether he came up from the front of me—I never knew his name, but I had previously seen him in a football club at the Old Britannia.
Re-examined. I first met him last winter.
HERBERT BURR (832 K.) About 11.40 p.m. on May 26th I was on duty in Alice Street, when I saw the prosecutor standing at the top of Sarah Street under the light of a gas lamp, when the prisoner and two other men came along—the prisoner hit the prosecutor on his face and pulled him to the ground—I got within forty feet when one of them looked up and shouted, "Boys, here comes a copper," and they ran—I gave chase and got within three yards of the prisoner but failed to overtake him through colliding with another man in Victoria Dock Road—I then took the prosecutor to the station—I knew the prisoner and recognised him as the man I knew—I was present at his identification—there were six men, including another black man—the prosecutor, after just a slight hesitation, picked out the prisoner—I had taken the prosecutor to Sarah Street at 12 midnight from the station—in my opinion he was sober, but he appeared very dazed, which might have been the result of the violence used upon him—the prisoner wore a white muffler, similar to the one he is wearing now.
Cross-examined. The prisoner made a circle round the prosecutor and came round behind him—when he struck him he was on the prosecutor's left side—"Tindling made a circle and came up behind Johnston; the two other men came up behind; Tindling struck Johnston when standing behind him" is what I said before the Magistrate, and that is correct—
all three men fell together—I started to run directly they ran—I did not see the prisoner's face when he started to run—there are a good many black men in the neighbourhood—I have not taken particular notice whether a good many of them wear white handkerchiefs—one black man is not like another—Sarah Street is about 500 yards from the police station—the street where this assault occurred was lit by incandescent light—I was about fifty feet away when I first saw them—I ran about 200 yards after them, when I lost sight of them—their backs were turned towards me during that time—when I fetched the prosecutor at 4 a.m. to identify the prisoner he seemed flurried—I cannot say how long he hesitated before identifying the prisoner—it may have been two minutes or just over a minute, or three minutes, as I said at the Police Court.
Re-examined. I had seen the prisoner about twenty minutes before the assault—I passed him in Victoria Dock Road with another man—he lives in the neighbourhood, some distance from where I saw him.
By the COURT. I saw the prosecutor standing under an incandescent lamp, and the prisoner went up and assaulted him at the top of Sarah Street—they came from the direction of Tidal Basin station—I heard the prisoner make his statement to the Magistrate, but I do not recollect it—Cronk is the officer who arrested him—the prosecutor did not stand five minutes before he identified the prisoner—I had nothing to do with the identification—the inspector on duty told the prosecutor to put his hand on the man who hit him—as to the prosecutor pointing to the prisoner and saying, "I think that is the man there," I cannot say those were his actual words, but they were words very similar.
Cross-examined. If the prisoner was the man who committed the robbery he remained close to where the robbery had been committed.
FRANCIS CRONK (573 K.) On May 26th I went to the prisoner's house, 76, Burnham Street, and said to him, "Tindling, I am going to take you into custody for being concerned along with Chasey in committing a robbery at Sarah Street at 11.40 p.m."—he said, "All right, sir, I have not seen Chasey to-night"—I took him to the station, and on being charged, he said, "I know who done it. It is best not to say anything. I have never come copper yet, but I will"—come copper is a slang expression for giving information to the police—when searched 2d. was found on him.
Cross-examined. He lives at Burnham Street with his mother—I do not know that he lives there with an aunt, too.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "This prosecutor who is prosecuting me, I know nothing about him no more than this bench; when I was took on suspicion by Mr. Cronk, the prosecutor came in and stood for five minutes and kept on looking up and down. The constable said, "Put your hand on the one you say hit you,' and the prosecutor said, "I think that is the man there,' referring to me."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that on the day when this occurred he was selling potatoes with a man named William Street up to 9 p.m.; that after putting the pony and barrow in the stables, they went to the John Grant, staying there till 10.45 p.m.; that Street then saw him home to 76, Burnham Street, reaching there just on 11 p.m., where Street left him that his mother and aunt were at home and that he did not go out again that night until the police came; that he knew nothing of the robbery, and was not out with Chasey that night and did not know him; that, the prosecutor was about five minutes identifying him; that Chasey was put up for identification after him, but was not identified; that Chasey said to him after all the men had gone out that it was he and two other men who had done it.
FRANCIS CRONK (Re-examined by the COURT). I was present at the identification—a man named Chasey was arrested and was placed amongst these seven or eight people—prosecutor and the policeman failed to identify him.
HERBERT BURR (Re-examined by the COURT). I was present at the identification—Chasey was placed-among the men, but I could not identify him, nor could the prosecutor—when I saw the robbery I did not see all the men's faces—I only saw the prisoner's—I did not think it was needful to say anything about Chasey.
The Jury here stopped the case and returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, June 27th, 1905.
WILLIAM HENRY WEST . I live at 128, Caistor Park Road, and am a gas stoker—I had been out of employment about six weeks before May 30th and am still—previously I had been in regular employment—the prisoner's wife is my sister—on May 30th, about 11.45 p.m., I was passing the prisoner's house, quite sober—I saw my sister outside—I spoke to her—in consequence of what she said I knocked at the door—the prisoner opened the door—I said, "What's the matter now, Charlie?" as we were walking through the passage, he showed me a baker's bill and said, "This is all right again, ain't it?"—I said, "Charlie, don't be a fool; let Emily in—we talked in a perfectly friendly way—he started talking about this 4s. baker's bill again—I said, "Let her in; if I had come to pick a row with you, Charlie, I should have had one on Saturday night when I see the row"—he said, "I suppose I thought your blood was boiling the same as mine," and I thought he was going to the door to let her in, but he shut the kitchen door and went to the drawer, got a hammer, and hit me with it—I felt blood on my head—I had been sitting in a chair—he was about a yard and a half from the drawer before he went and opened it—I was sitting with my back to him, leaning towards the table—I know he struck me twice, but I became unconscious—I came to my senses and was going towards the street door when he put his foot behind me, and shoved me in the road—my head was bleeding—I went to a police constable and gave information
—the prisoner was taken into custody—I was examined by Dr. Grogono—I charged the prisoner—from first to last I attempted no violence.
Cross-examined. The prisoner and my sister have been married about ten years—during the first eight years of their married life the; were exceedingly happy—I know now, but I did not know then, that their home life during the last two years has been unhappy—I do not know that she habitually drank in public-houses; she would go after the been—she cannot stand beer shops—I know she incurred debts—the prisoner is respectable—he has been a good husband, a good father, and a decent fellow in every way, barring his temper—I have a bad temper at times—on Saturday night I was fighting with a black man—I was in the wrong; he was the better man—I was hurt at the back of my head, and I "turned it up"—that happened because I was in drink—I have been convicted for assault once, and for being drunk and disorderly—I knocked at the door; before the prisoner opened it he said, "Who is that?"—I said, "Bill"—he opened the door, and I walked in the same as I always did—I did not say if he did not open the door I would burst it open—I had had something to drink; not pints, but glasses; about three; it did not run to much more—I said to the prisoner, "I want to have a quiet talk for five minutes"—I do not think I said anything till I got into the kitchen—I may have said that before—I said, "Why don't you Jet Emily in?"—he said, "I have stood it eighteen months; I do not intend standing it any longer"—I said at the Police Court, "The prisoner started jawing me"—we said a lot in the five minutes—the talk was not all so quiet—I took off my coat after I got the first blow, to take the hammer away from him, when I came to myself—he did not pull me over his shoulder—it is not true that I took off my coat and went for him—I did not call him nasty names—I heard him say to the police-man, "I will give this man in charge"—I did not make another rush at him after he said he would lock me up—after he tripped me up I pulled myself together and went towards him, because a person said, "You are never going indoors like that, are you?"—I did not attack him—I did not fall on the kerb in front of the house—I did not call the policeman to charge him for pushing me down in the road; I called him to take me to the hospital—the prisoner did not say to me that he would not have his wife drinking in "four-ale" bars.
Re-examined. The assault I was convicted of was eight years ago.
IDA GOWER . I am the wife of Robert Gower, an engine driver—I lived with my husband in the same house as the prisoner, at 128, Caistor Park Road—on May 30th I was upstairs in ray room above the kitchen, when I heard a scuffle below and high words—after a minute or two I went down with Mrs. West's baby, which I was taking care of—I saw the prisoner and West—West was sitting in a chair with his side towards the kitchen drawer—I saw the prisoner get this hammer (Produced) out of the drawer and hit West on the head with it—West remained till he had another blow—the prisoner hit him a third time on the head, when he was on the floor—West did not take his coat off while I was in the room—I was frightened, and went out of the kitchen—at the do
the prisoner hit him with his fist, and he fell on the pavement—I did not see West use any violence—my daughter saw the prisoner's head—she is not here.
Cross-examined. I now live at 18, Albert Terrace, Plaistow—we had to move—we had two rooms upstairs—I went down to ask the prisoner if he would allow his wife to have the baby, which I had been taking care of—he said, "No, she shall not have the baby; she is not coming here to-night"—West said, "For what reason? Why can't you let her come in? My blood boiled when you banged her on Saturday. Don't let her be out there. Don't be so foolish"—with that the prisoner got the hammer and dealt the blow—there had been a wrangle and a struggle before, but my husband would not allow me to come down—after I left the kitchen I looked through the kitchen window and saw the prisoner deal another blow and I undid the door and handed the baby to a boy, and I was called away—the prisoner said we would have to clear out after I had given evidence—I heard him say it to his wife, as I swore his life away—we owed three weeks' rent.
JOHN CLARKE (1 K.) I was on dutyun Caistor Park Road on Tuesday, May 30th, about 11.45 p.m. when West made a complaint to me—he was bleeding very much from his head—in consequence of what he said I went to 128, Caistor Park Road, and told the prisoner I should take him into custody for assaulting his brother-in-law by striking him on the head with a hammer—he said, "All right"—I asked him where the hammer was that he inflicted the injury with, and he produced this hammer from the top of the dresser behind the kitchen door—I examined it—I saw no mark on it—he got his overcoat and went to the station with me—on the way he said he defended himself with the hammer—at the station he was charged with assaulting West, and afterwards with assaulting his wife—he made no reply—he bears a good character—he has been employed by the Richmond Gas Meter Manufacturers for the last seven years.
ERIC WALTER GROGONO , M.D. I practise with my father at Romford Road, Stratford—I was called to the West Ham police station, where any father acts as surgeon to the police, about 12.15 a.m. on May 30th—I examined West and found he was suffering from injuries on his head—there were several severe bruises extending from his left ear upwards to the top of the scalp and forward on his forehead, taking a triangular area—the skin was broken in four places—this hammer might have caused the injuries—considerable violence must have been used—West was sober when I examined him.
Cross-examined. There were eight injuries, all of which could be caused by this hammer—I do not think any were caused by a fall on the kerb—it depends on the violence.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had the hammer and a gimlet to fasten up the door to keep hit wife out, at the had acquired drunken habits and was running into debt, and that West's injuries were caused in the scuffle when he interfered and by his falls in the row. He received a good character. GUILTY, with the Jury's recommendation to mercy on the ground of very gross provocation. Four months' hard labour.
New Court, July 1st, 1905.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted; MR. FITZGERALD Defended Chasey.
ALFRED HATTON HUGHES . I am a seaman of a steamship now in Victoria Docks—about 9 p.m. on June 1st I was on a piece of waste ground off the Freemasons Road, which is near the docks—I was just turning the corner by a kind of fence when one of the prisoners grasped me by my throat while the other rifled my trouser pockets—I fell unconscious to the ground, and when I came to, I found a woman bending over me—I had half a sovereign in one trouser pocket and some silver and a few coppers in another, £1 1s. altogether—my pockets were hanging out when I came to, and the money gone—I then went to a policeman and went with him to the Railway Tavern at Tidal Basin—there we found Shaw, and the policeman took him to the station—this was early in the morning of June 2nd—at 6 a.m. that morning I picked Chasey out from fifteen other men as being the other man who attacked me—I had seen them previously between 7.30 and 7.45 p.m., walking down Freemasons Road, hanging about the Peacock, and when I was paid off at the ship they were knocking about the gangway; this was the same day as the robbery—when I saw them hanging round the Peacock I did not speak to them, nor did they to me.
Cross-examined. The ship was not paid off until after 3 p.m., and I did not go on shore until 6 or 7 p.m.—I and my friends were having drinks together at the Peacock when I saw the prisoners—it was just after sunset when I was robbed—I was nearly strangled—I could not see which one grasped me by the throat.
By the COURT. I had half a sovereign, a couple of florins and some shillings, sixpences and threepenny bits.
CHARLES WARREN (439 K.) About 9 p.m. on June 1st I was in Freemasons Road, Custom House, when the prosecutor came up and made a complaint to me—he gave me a description of certain men, in consequence of which I took him to the police station, and from there we went to the Railway Tavern—the prosecutor went to the public bar and pointed out Shaw to me, saying, "That is one of the men," and I arrested him—on searching him I found two florins, a threepenny piece, a sixpence and 2 1/2 d. in bronze.
JOSEPH PAYNE (Detective). In consequence of information received between 12 and 1 a.m. on June 2nd, I went to 18, Francis Street, Canning Town, where I saw Chasey—I said to him, "I am a police officer and I am going to take you into custody on suspicion of being concerned with another man in custody in robbing a sailor of a guinea last night"—he said, "Who is the other one? Has he put me away?"—I took him to the station, where he was detained till the prosecutor was brought for the purpose of identification—he was placed amongst fifteen others and
was immediately identified by the prosecutor—on being charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. It was in consequence of the description given me by the inspector at the station that I went to the prisoner's house—I have not got that description written down—Chasey was in bed asleep when I arrested him, and I said, "Jack, I want you," and he immediately woke up—he never asked me what I wanted—it is true that I said before the Magistrate, "You asked what you were charged with, and I told you"; that is correct—on his being searched nothing was found.
JAMES GREENWOOD (616 K.) At 9 p.m. on June 1st I was going to Custom House when I saw the prisoners in Freemasons Road coming out of the pawnbroker's and going in the direction of the Peacock—I have known them some time.
Chasey's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty. I can call Shaw."
Chasey, in his defence on oath, stated that he left Shaw a few minutes before 9 p.m., and after having had a drink he went home alone; that he did not see Shaw again till 6 the next morning; that on being arrested he did not say, "Has anybody given me away?" but that he said, "What do you want me for?" and the policeman said, "I shall not tell you now, but when I get round to the station"; and that the reason why the prosecutor picked him out was that he (Chasey) and Shaw had a drink with him at 6 p.m. the previous day.
Cross-examined. There was no other man with me at the time—I seized the prosecutor by the throat by one hand and put my other hand in his pocket—the prosecutor would not have known who had done it—he got in my company in the day time and in the evening; he twisted money about on the counter and showed me it—I have a wife and two children and I thought I would take it to get some food for them—the prosecutor stood Chasey and me drinks at the Peacock—after leaving, Chasey went down the Freemasons Road along the Victoria Dock Road—I parted from him at the corner of Janet Road, opposite the Peacock, which is about three or four minutes' walk from the piece of waste ground—I saw him go over to a public-house; I did not go with him—I did, not see if he went into the public-house—I turned up a side street and the prosecutor seemed to go up a side turning—Chasey did not see the prosecutor—I followed the prosecutor, who was messing about with his money, pulling it out again—I do not know where Chasey was then; he had left me—I did not see the prosecutor till after Chasey had left me; he was up a side turning—I followed him on to the waste ground, which is about four or five yards from where I first saw him in front of me, and I robbed him—I did not see Chasey again till about 8.30 or 9 the next morning at the police station—I did not go to his house between the time of the robbery and when I was arrested; I never go round to where people lives.
By the COURT. I did not go down to the docks that afternoon when the ship was being paid off; I did not see the prosecutor till the evening—Chasey and I were not together on the gangway of the ship when it was being paid of; I was in the dock, but nowhere near the ship—I know the prosecutor's ship, but I did not know she was paying off—it was a mere accident our meeting the prosecutor—when I robbed him I only caught him by the collar—I do not know that he tumbled down; he was very quick behind my heels—I went to the Railway Tavern after the robbery, where I was arrested—I met a friend before getting there, and I sent him with some of the money to my missus.
NOT GUILTY .
The COMMON SERJEANT remarked that Chasey had had a previous conviction for highway robbery, and that he had been discharged on his own recognisances; and from the part of his having been found in the company of bad characters it was for the police authorities to consider whether they should not call him up on those recognisances for judgment. Two previous convictions were proved against SHAW— Three years' penal servitude.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
Fourth Court, June 27th, 1905.
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted; MR. WARDE Defended.
JOHN MARSH . I am a dairyman at Mary's Road, Plaistow—the prisoner was in my employment—he had to deliver milk, and account each day for the money paid to him—some of my customers pay daily and some weekly, and for two a book is kept—when the prisoner accounted for the money he received, I wrote it in a book at his dictation as he called it out—I have a customer named Mrs. Prior—on April 4th the prisoner did not hand me over 2s. 11d. as coming from her—I have a customer named Till-yard—on April 3rd the prisoner did not hand me 3s. 8d. as coming from her.
Cross-examined. I entered the amounts each day except on Sunday—I entered Sunday's and Monday's together on the Monday—I sometimes went out on afternoons and would say to the prisoner, "How much money have you got? We will book it to-morrow"—I am not likely to make a mistake in booking the two days together—there have been difficulties between the prisoner and me on a previous occasion—it was then a matter of about £8—that was not for shortages; it was money received—I say he stole the money on that occasion—I entered into an arrangement with his sister to pay me 10s. a month, and the prisoner to pay me 5s. a week off the amount—this was to give him another chance to retrieve his character—the money had been all paid back some time before the present matters—the prisoner absconded on the present occasion, leaving his milk cans and everything and customers unserved.
Re-examined. He absconded on Wednesday, April 5th—he was paid his wages on Saturdays—he went off without half a week's wages—I have not received this money.
weekly—on April 4th I paid him 2s. 11d.—he brought a bill, which he receipted.
ALICE MAUD STRUTT . I am servant to Miss Tillyard, who bought milk from Mr. Marsh—it was delivered by the prisoner—I paid him for it when he brought the bills—on April 3rd I paid him 3s. 8d.—he gave a receipt for it
ALBERT WEBB (613 K.) On June 1st I saw the prisoner in High Street, Plaistow—I said to him, "I believe your name is James Foot, wanted on a warrant for embezzlement; I shall take you to the station"—he said, "Yes, I know. I am wanted on a warrant, and was going to the station to give myself up"—I took him to the station—the warrant was dated April 7th.
Cross-examined. His father was with him when I arrested him.
FREDERICK STEVENS (Detective-Sergeant). I saw the prisoner on June 1st at the police station after Webb had brought him there—I read the warrant to him—he said "How much?"—I said, "£2 8s. 1d."—he said, "All-right"—he was then charged—in reply he said, "I have walked from Birmingham to give myself up."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had some difficulty over money with the prosecutor before, but that it was owing to shortages he had received, and that the money in the present case he had received and handed over to the prosecutor.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, July 4th, 1905.
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted; MR. WARDE Defended.
MR. WARDE submitted that the prisoner had already been tried and acquitted on this indictment. The RECORDER stated that he was informed that the prisoner had been given in charge before the learned Commissioner on the first indictment, and that evidence had been given with regard to 2s. 11d and 3s. 8d. MR. NOLAN said that that was so, but that when he was asked which indictment he wished to try, he said on the indictment for 3s. 8d. and 2s. 11d., and the Clerk of the Court (MR. ALFRED READ) gave the prisoner in charge on the other indictment; that evidence was then given about the 3s. 8d. and 2s. 11d., when the prisoner was acquitted. The RECORDER said that he thought MR. READ could not have made such a mistake, but that he did not think he should be justified in allowing the prisoner to be tried again, and that if the prisoner were convicted he should reserve the case for the Court of Crown Cases Reserved. MR. NOLAN then stated that he would offer no evidence, and the Jury returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
Old Court, June 30th, 1905.
MR. MUIR, MR. A. GILL, and MR. GUY STEPHENSON Prosecuted; MR. PROFUMO Defended.
JAMES MCLOUGHLIN (12 R.) (Produced and proved a ground plan of 1, Blissit Street, Greenwich, showing that No. 3 was on one side and No. 1a on the other Side of that house). There is a bed occupying a large part of the bedroom at No. 1; it is close to the window, which has a blind—if a candle was on the mantelpiece the shadow of anybody standing between the mantelpiece and the window would be cast upon the blind, which anybody in the street could see—there is a 9-inch wall between the bedroom and No. la.
Cross-examined. There is a step down into the scullery; I did not measure it—I should say it is 9 inches or 10 inches high—there is a sink about 3 feet from the step and opposite it—it would be possible for any-body in a weak or drunken condition falling down the step to fall against the sink—it is an earthenware sink with sharp edges—it is a rather difficult step.
EMANUEL ALFRED BOWRING . I am a retired scale maker, and live at Laurie Grove, New Cross—the deceased was my brother; he was fifty-six years old—my father died on December 9th, 1902—up to that time my brother had a remittance of £2 a week from him—he used to go out with a barrow with fruit, and then with an organ, but not for twelve months before my father's death—he has always been bad with rheumatism—on my father's death my brother became entitled to £1,000 in Indian Consols and £180 in notes—he was very bad on his feet with rheumatism—he very often went away to the infirmary—he had not got a club foot—I last saw him about twelve months back, when he lived at Florence Road—he was then in bed, and was wheeled about in a bath chair—the prisoner was with him then—they had been living together for about twelve months when he came into his legacy—I cannot say if they had been living together before that—I saw my brother's body at the infirmary.
Cross-examined. I am certain that my brother had not a club foot; if he had I never knew it—I am not certain that it was in the summer of 1904 that I last saw him—I have never seen him the worse for drink—I did not see him very often—he took his beer, and I expect he took a drop of whisky now and then—I have not seen him during the last twelve months—he must have been drinking more since he came into his money, because he did not have money to get drink with before—he has not been to the infirmary since he had his money—I never knew him to say that he suffered from gout; he had been rheumatic since he was a child—on the occasion that I last saw him I did not stop long—the prisoner was then in an intoxicated state and stumbled over me two or three times—she could not stand still—I was not allowed to tell that to the Coroner—I was not prevented from giving that information by the police—I do not know if that was the prisoner's usual state—that was the first time I had seen her—I have heard she has been in an inebriates'
home for three years—I did not know that she had a holiday one day while there and met my brother, who took her in a cab and that they got drunk—all I know about her being unkind to him is from what I have heard—I have never witnessed anything.
ALBERT MILLO . I live at 9, Eastbourne Row, Forest Gate, and am an agent on commission—the deceased was my wife's uncle—I knew him about the time his father died—I undertook to look after his money affairs I should say about a month or two after he came into the settlement; it was about the early part of 1903—the Indian Stock was transferred by the Bank of England to his name—I handed him the balance of cash and from time to time, under his instructions, I sold out portions of the stock and handed it to him or banked part of it in case he should run out at the bank—under his instructions I sold out about £500—I paid part into the London and County Bank and held the rest—I paid him £1 by telegraph money order on the day of his death and, I think, two days previously I paid £1 10s.
Cross-examined. I should say the deceased spent about £670 since his father's death—I believe at times he took too much—I believe that although he was receiving this amount things were pawned to obtain drink, but I cannot say whether by the prisoner or the deceased—I believe they were both heavy drinkers.
Re-examined. I have seen them both in drink, and when drunk they teemed rather bad tempered.
WILLIAM RICHFIELD . I am a firewood dealer, and live at Deptford—I have known the prisoner and the deceased for about two years; during that time they have lived at various addresses in Deptford and neighbourhood—during January or February they went to live at 1, Blissit Street—I used to wheel the deceased about in a bath chair, he being unable to walk—on May 23rd I went to 1, Blissit Street, about 7.30 p.m.—I saw a bandage on the deceased's head with vaseline on it—the prisoner was in the front room—the deceased was sitting in a chair against the fire in the bedroom—I said to the prisoner in the deceased's hearing, "What have you been doing?"—the said, "Nothing"—I said, "Mind you don't get yourself in trouble"—she said, "You do not know all"—I said, "No, 'taint fit I should know all," then we went and gathered up the washing and put it in a sack—she checked it downstairs and I held the sack open—my wife does the washing—I undressed the deceased and got him into bed—clean sheets and pillow cases were on that day—I had a glass of ale and a drop of whisky with him—he seemed all right then—about 10.30, after I had tied the sack up, I said, "I must be going"—the deceased said, "Don't go yet, Bill; it is quite early"—the prisoner said to him, "The man cannot stop here all night"—I said, "No, if I get stopped by the police for this I shall perhaps be pulled back"—the prisoner said, "You will have a tidy old dose if they do pull you back"—the only time I see an injury on the prisoner's forehead was when he told me in the prisoner's presence that he fell down the step and out his eye on the sink—on this night they had a bit of a bother and the prisoner said it was all through Mr. Millo not sending
any money—they were very short of money for about a month—they had to take things to pawn before they could get any money—the land-lady kept coming after the rent, and they had not got it, and of course it upset the prisoner, and she kept taking a drop of extra beer through it—I heard a bit of quarrelling on the night I went in.
Cross-examined. I do not know if they wanted the money for drink—I said in my depositions that they both drank too much and quarrelled on account of the man's dirty habits in bed—I know that the sheets had to be changed every day, and the bed once a fortnight—I have seen them both the worse for drink, and the woman not able to stand—they were both generally in that condition when I called—I took the deceased out every afternoon—the prisoner was kind towards the deceased, but paid to him, "Alf, you could help half this if you liked"—when she was sober there was not a better woman going than she was—I think she must have been driven—I have seen her go out into the yard and heave her heart up after cleaning up—she would tell me to sit in the front room, Baying, "It ain't fit for you to see," while she took the deceased out of bed and washed him all over and then run out into the yard—she put a clean shirt on him every day—they were both irritable when under the influence of drink—he would never let her go to the front door if he could help it—he had not got a club foot to my knowledge—I undressed him sometimes, because his legs were useless—he could not walk 200 or 300 yards by himself—he had a bad job sometimes to get across the room—if he attempted to walk about when under the influence of drink he would fall down—he fell heavily one night, six or seven weeks before his death—he fell on the fender and he would have been burned to death if I had not been there—the prisoner was then in the front room, sitting on a box, reading a paper—I only saw him fall twice—I went there one night and saw a bandage round the prisoner's head; she was then drunk—I said, "What is the matter; what have you been doing?"—she said, "Nothing"—I said, "What have you got that round your head for?"—she said, "That is nothing"—I have never seen her use a poker or any blunt instrument on him at all—I have never seen her strike him except in very aggravating circumstances, and when in drink.
Re-examined. When I told the prisoner not to get into trouble I saw that she had been hitting the deceased—his dirty habits irritated her, and he was always getting drunk when he went out in the chair; she did that too—I do not know what other provocation he gave her—his weakness was getting worse—I had to lift him into the chair at last—on the 24th he had had a drop to drink; he was half and half, and she was just about the same.
ELIZABETH RICHFIELD . I am the wife of the last witness—I have been in the habit of doing the washing and cleaning for the prisoner and the deceased since December—on May 23rd I went to their house between 11 and 12 a.m.—I saw the deceased in bed in the front room—the prisoner got him up while I was in the back room—he had a mark on his had seen it about a week before—he said he had done it by falling against the table getting into bed—there was no bandage upon it then; he was
in his ordinary ill-health—on the 24th I went there about 3 p.m.—he was in bed, but had a bandage on his forehead—I asked the prisoner about it and she said it was erysipelas in his face through sitting in the yard a couple of afternoons, and she had put some vaseline on it—on Thursday, the 25th, I went there with the washing between 11905062601402 and 1, or it may have been a little after 1—I heard the deceased's voice in the bedroom—they asked me to go on an errand—I usually tidied the bedroom after the deceased had got up—I did not do so on that day; the prisoner said she had done it herself—the deceased generally got up after I went there, but sometimes he would lay in bed for three or four days, or a week—I went to pledge some sheets and shirts for them—I brought back the money, half-a-crown—when I got back there was a telegraph boy with a telegraph order for 30s.—the prisoner told me that she had the order, and asked me if I would change it and pay the rent on my way home—I changed it and gave her the sovereign, and she went in with it to the deceased—I heard him say to her that she was to do the best she could with it, as business would be settled and he would pay right up to-morrow—he told the prisoner to ask me to get him some tobacco and to pay 5s. to the publican off what was owing, and he had a quartern of whisky—the prisoner gave me the sovereign—I went out and spent it in that way and brought back the change—I got a pot of ale, a quartern of whisky and some tobacco—the prisoner gave me some more money to pay for other things, I left between 1.15 and 1.30—next day, Friday, I went there between 10 and 11 a.m.—the deceased was not up, and I asked the prisoner if he was going to get up for me to do the place up and she said, "Not to-day"—I did not clean the house that day and I did not see the deceased—between 12 and 1, I heard the deceased ask the prisoner to get him some brawn and some beer, and I got it for him—he asked for a custard for his tea; he was able to feed himself—I left about 3—the prisoner had been drinking very heavily that day; she was habitually in drink—she could walk pretty straight from one room to another; she spoke all right—when I went away she said she was going to lie down, and she asked me to order some drink before I went, for the man to bring over between 6 and 7—she had been in that condition for several days—on Saturday I went about 10 o'clock—the prisoner had asked me to come early—I saw her at the door; she said, "Alf is gone"—I said, "Gone where?" thinking he had gone across the road—she said, "Dead"—I said, "Oh! ma, have you had the doctor?"—she said, "No"—in the meantime Mrs. Smith, whom the prisoner had sent for me, came up—the prisoner said the deceased had died about 5.40; that he knew her and died with his arms round her neck—the prisoner was then suffering from the effects of drink—I asked Mrs. Smith to go for Dr. Black and ask him to come at once, which he did—I received this letter on May 31st from the prisoner (Read): "May 31st, 1905. Dear Mrs. Richfield,—I write to you to tell you that I am truly sorry for what has happened; I shall never forget it as long as I live. If you see any of these gentlemen that it the key you might ask them if they will give you my things and the bodices out of the drawer, and you might wash the petticoat for me
and take them to the station for me, and I will get them when I come down. Please will you take the dear little kitten and keep it for me? Give my love to all at home. Hope you are quite well. God knows how I shall get on if I cannot come down on Monday. I shall be up at Greenwich Police Court on Tuesday, the 6th. This is all this time. From yours, broken hearted, Hannah Holland."
Cross-examined. I have been working for the couple since last September—they never quarrelled when I was there—I was there every morning, barring Wednesdays, when I sometimes did not go—only two rooms downstairs are occupied—the deceased could not get upstairs—there was not very much work to do—I helped in the charring because of the deceased's habits—they both drank very heavily indeed—on the Friday she looked as if she had not been to bed all night—I did not see the deceased on Friday at all—I cannot say if the prisoner was responsible for her actions on the Friday—she asked me to come on the Saturday morning; she was muddly then—I never saw her use a poker—I cannot say if she was likely to use one—I have seen them quarrel, but never seen blows struck—I have found things broken in the morning, but they have always said it was an accident—their craving for drink was so strong that one day I was sent out to pawn sheets for half-a-crown—I did not go into the bedroom with the sovereign which I got in change for the 30s. order—when the deceased said the business would be settled to-morrow, he meant that money would be put into the bank for them to draw—the pot of ale and the quartern of whisky was not consumed while I was there—my husband was not there that day—the deceased had very dirty habits, and was a very trying man—I know it, because I used to do the washing—the things were in a dreadful condition—when the prisoner was out of drink there was not a better woman—the deceased never allowed her out; I think she loved him in her way—in his aggravating ways she may have struck him—he would never allow her to go away—she had to fill his pipe or do something—I think he drank more than she did—on Saturday morning she was agitated—when I left on the Friday I did not think anything was going to happen—I thought she was going to lie down—I know the step from the scullery—it is a pretty big drop—I daresay it is 16 inches high—there is a sink there and a brick wall—whenever I saw a mark on the deceased's forehead he always said he had had a fall—I do not think he said that because the woman had done it—I thought it was always the truth when he said it—I have not seen the deceased fall down when he was intoxicated, but he was very tottery on his feet—when they were in drink it would be a very wretched and miserable life for the prisoner—I thought she was married to him—I know that they were in receipt of this money from the deceased's father, and I know now that the prisoner will not have any of it, but I did not know it before.
Re-examined. I should think the deceased had last been able to walk across the road about a month before his death—when I say he was aggravating I was referring to his dirty habits, and he was always demanding her to be in his sight.
CLARENCE EDWIN KAY . I am a bootmaker, of la, Blissit Street, Greenwich, but I do not sleep there—my hours are from 8.30 a.m. to 10 p.m.—I have heard sounds coming from No. 1, where the prisoner lived with the deceased—I have heard rowing and upsettings and similar noises and bangs against the wall adjoining my place—it is the bedroom which is next to my place, and there is a 9-inch wall between them—on Wednesday, May 24th, I heard nothing until night time, when I was about to close, when I went to my door and stayed outside their bedroom window and heard the prisoner delivering blows or smacks to the deceased, who, I presume, was lying on the bed—I saw the shadow of her hand upon the blind coming down—I could also see the figure which was that of a woman—I heard the prisoner say, "Now who is the best?" on the delivery of each smack, and the deceased would answer, "You are, Hannah! you are!"—when I saw the shadow of the arm come down I heard each smack—I should say there were ten or a dozen blows dealt in that manner and the same question put and the same answer, the prisoner giving a volley of abusive language—about three or four minutes after-wards I heard a smashing of glass and china, I believe in the same room, and I saw the prisoner come to the door, look each way into the street, but I did not hear any more that night—I then started closing—I had to pass their place to go home—my puppy dog ran into their front room under the table, and I passed the prisoner, who was on the doorstep and went under the table on my hands and knees to fetch him out—I said "Good-night" to her, but she did not reply, and I went home—I did not notice anything about her appearance—on Thursday, the 25th, I heard nothing of any account, but on Friday, the 26th, the rows commenced about dinner time at 1 or 1.30. and continued to 5 or 5.30—each row would last ten or fifteen minutes—I frequently heard the deceased say, "Oh! Hannah, don't!" and on one or two occasions, "For God's sake, don't!"—between 5 and 5.30 I heard something drop which sounded something like fire irons—I cannot say if it was—everything went quiet from that time until 9 p.m., when the prisoner came to my door and spoke to my boy—she spoke soberly enough—there was nothing to suggest that she was under the influence of drink—she gave my boy a bottle of ginger beer, and I did not see any more of her—I closed in the usual way and went home—I remember seeing a postman that night, and he passed a remark to me—I next saw the prisoner on the Saturday morning, about 9, standing on her doorstep with a walking-out coat on and no hat—she did not speak to me.
Cross-examined. On the Friday the original row commenced about 1 or 1.30, but it was nothing of any account until 3—I have not the slightest animosity against the prisoner—I have borrowed money from the deceased, but the prisoner has not asked me to repay it—I have a clear recollection of what took place—it was on the Wednesday that the dog ran into the prisoner's house—I am absolutely certain it was on the Wednesday night—I saw quite clearly what took place by the shadows on the blind—I did not only see the shadow of the arm; I saw the figure as well—I distinctly saw the action and the hand—I did not see
a poker in it—there was nothing in the hand—I should certainly have seen it if there had been—I did not think the prisoner was doing the deceased any bodily harm—I did not place any importance on the rows, because they have been rowing ever since they came, and I have grown used to them—I think they drank far more than they ought to, and were more often than not the worse for drink—I do not suppose that I went into the house more than half a dozen times—I know nothing of the deceased's dirty habits—I did not interfere, because the police, I believe, already knew the rows were continued there every night after I had shut my shop, therefore, I did not deem it my duty to interfere—I did not think the man was being killed—if I had I should have interfered—two months previously I went and interfered, and got abused and told to mind my own business—when the fire irons dropped I did not think it was more than an ordinary row—it is possible that they were in a drunken condition and fell against the tongs—it is not a large room, and if the fire-tongs or poker had been set up against the chair or wall they could have knocked them down and caused the sound that I heard—the bed is large, and if anybody were intoxicated I think they would have a job to get past it without knocking anything down which was standing up—I did not hear a blow on the deceased's head with a poker—when I saw the prisoner on the doorstep she appeared sober to me—she frequently stood on the doorstep—I got my dog out from the kitchen, not the bedroom—I heard the deceased man speak then—it was about 10.20 p.m.—the deceased called, "Come on, Hannah"—he was not unconscious then—I was not frightened to go in—when I saw the prisoner outside the house I did not see blood or anything on her hands; she had got them behind her.
Re-examined. When I went in two months ago, not being used to the noises at that time, I saw the prisoner at the door and the deceased was in the bedroom—I said to the prisoner, "Is everything all right?"—she said, "Of course everything is all right; mind your own business"—when I saw the shadows on the blind, the blows seemed to fall on the deceased's chest or head, assuming that he was on the bed.
EDWARD EASTUP . I am an auxiliary postman, and live at Lewisham—on May 26th I had a communication to deliver at 1, Blissit Street—I knocked at the door at 7.15 p.m.—it was not opened as quickly as usual, and when it was opened by the prisoner I noticed that she had blood on her hand—I fancied the door was bolted from the noise I heard—I handed her the letter, I do not think she said Anything—I may have said, "Thank you"—she seemed excited and not sober—I went next door and spoke to Kay.
Cross-examined. There's no mistake about there being blood upon the prisoner's hand—I had seen her three or four times before—on this occasion she was confused—if she was fumbling when she opened the door that might account for the noise.
LOUISA SMITH . I am the wife of Albert Smith, of 3, Blissit Street, Greenwich—on May 27th, about 9 a.m., I was sweeping the pavement in front of my house—I saw the prisoner in front of her doorstep—she called to me—I said I could not go to her, because I was busy—she beckoned as if
she was in trouble—I went to her at once and said, "What is the matter?"—she said, "He has gone"—I said, "Gone where, so early in the morning? Before it gets hot, I suppose"—she said, "No, you fool, he is dead"—I went for Mrs. Richfield, but found she was not at home—I fetched Dr. Black.
Cross-examined. The prisoner asked me to go for a doctor—she was very excited, and seemed very strange and upset—I think her condition was partly caused by drink; she seemed very much troubled.
ROBERT JAMES BLACK . I am a registered medical practitioner practising at Greenwich—about 10 a.m. on May 27th I was called to 1, Blissit Street—the door was opened, but not by the prisoner, and I was shown into a bedroom—I saw a man lying dead on the bed—he had several cuts and bruises on his face—I asked the prisoner how long he had been dead, and she said, "He kissed me at either a quarter or 20 minutes to 6 and then died"—I asked her who inflicted the wounds—she said, "I done it"—I asked her what with, and, pointing, I think, to her left hand which had three rings, she said, "I done it with these rings"—I asked her when she had done it, and she said on Tuesday night—she was more or less under the influence of drink, and seemed to me to have been drinking for some time before.
Cross-examined. I have been a medical practitioner for nearly ten years, and six years at Greenwich—I have had a considerable amount of experience in dealing with persons of this class—the deceased's wounds were contused and somewhat lacerated—they may have been caused by falling or by a blunt instrument or by rings—I did not count them, but I believe there were two or three serious ones—I do not know if the deceased had a club foot—there was a considerable amount of dried blood round the wounds, which, in my opinion, showed that they had been caused some little time before, I think before the Friday night—some of the bruises may have been caused on the Friday night, but I think the wounds were caused before that—I cannot say if it was as far back as the Tuesday or Wednesday—I made a careful examination of them and in my opinion the wounds were not all caused at the same time—I think that one of the serious wounds might have been caused by a fall against a sink—the deceased would fall very heavily, because he seemed to be a cripple—a fall against a table would also cause one of the serious wounds—I did not make the post-mortem—I have never found a man who has been drinking for some years with healthy organs—if there was blood in the deceased's stomach it could have been caused by the state of his liver—the deceased's death might have been caused by a thrust from a poker, but it is improbable; or it may have been caused by falling on broken glass—the most fatal wounds were one over the frontal bone and one over the nose—I got to the house at 10.15 a.m.—I do not think blows from a clenched fist would have caused death apart from the serious wounds which might have been caused by a fall.
Re-examined. I should not have the same means of judging of the character of the wounds as the man who made the post-mortem examination—there was no depression of the skull visible by an external examination.
—I was not aware that the brain was lacerated—the deceased may have lived for more than twenty-four hours if the brain substance was lacerated.
The prisoner here stated that she was GUILTY of Manslaughter, and the Jury returned that verdict . Twelve months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, June 26th, 1905.
571. HARRY WILLIAMS (27) (a soldier) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement on an order for the payment of £40 with intent to defraud. He received an excellent character. Three months in the Second Division.
MR. W. P. COX Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Jones.
ATTHUR BENNETT . I am a carman, of 3, Bemerton Street, Caledonian Road—on May 14th, at 11.30 p.m., I was in the London Road—I arrived at the Obelisk at the other side of the water—Jones came up to me and said, "Johnny, how are you getting on?"—I said, "Very well; I thought I might have seen you at dinner time"—I knew him—I walked out of my way 100 yards to walk with him—we were talking nice and civilly and as friends, and all at once he put his hands round my neck while Hewson, who came up, put his hands into my trouser pocket and took out 5s.—Hewson punched me right and left and Jones said, "You go home"—the man who was with me, Bristling, I left there; I walked away to Bemerton Street—I did not go for the police, because I was half dazed and quite surprised—I walked to King's Cross, which is about three miles away—next morning I saw Hewson smoking a cigarette on the kerb—he looked at me and I explained to a policeman what the case was—I knew Hewson before—the policeman told me to go to Kennington Road police station, where they directed me to go to Stone's End, where they sent a policeman out with me to where the robbery was committed—they then sent me to Kennington Road station, and afterwards apprehended both the prisoners—when they accosted me I was behaving in a perfectly orderly manner—I am perfectly sure that it was Hewson who rifled my pocket, and that Jones held me so that I could not move—since New Year's day I have been a carman, and at the present time I hold a good character.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. This occurred on a Sunday evening; I had not been to work that day—I started out about mid-day and this occurred about 11.30 that night—I had two or three drinks in the dinner hour, whilst the pubs. are open from 1 to 3—I was with another man named Thomas Bristling; I have known him for twenty years—I have known Jones since 1887, and Hewson for some time—Bristling was present while I was being robbed—he did not call out; he stood by the wall with surprise—he is fifty-two years old and knows the parties the prisoners belong to, and was frightened—the last public-house I was in before this
occurred was the Alfred's Head—I stayed there until turning-out time—Jones did not interfere with a fight which I was having; he got in between me and Hewson afterwards and said, "Now you go home"—it was not because I was drunk that he suggested that I should go home; he did not want me to get at Hewson—I was quite sober—I had been in about three public-houses between 1 and 3, and about the same number between 6 and 11—after the assault I must have passed a great many police officers—all the public-houses close at 11 p.m. as far as I know—Jones stopped Hewson from punching me—Hewson and I were not fighting after we had been in the public-house—I had not got my coat off, and several people were not standing round; there were several people round about the public-house—Jones did not come through the crowd and push Hewson one way and me another—I have been in a lunatic asylum once, but I am now almost as sensible as an educated gentleman—I hold up to the proper thing; anything cowardly I put down—I was doing a sentence of eighteen months, and was transferred from the prison to the asylum—I was very violent to a warder; I was not then in my right senses—I was undergoing three years' penal servitude—that is not the last time I have been under detention—I broke Harvey & Thompson's shop window, but I did not intend to steal—I was taken to the South London Sessions and was sentenced to eighteen months' hard labour—I served ten months and eight in an asylum—Bristling is not here to-day; I went and saw him, but I went with the detective; I could not find him.
By the COURT. He is not here, because he is frightened—I did not make a complaint, because I was so surprised.
Cross-examined by Hewson. We were not having a fair fight, and Jones did not come and separate us.
JOHN BEARD (Sergeant L.) I was present when Hewson was arrested—he was told the charge and said, "I know nothing about it; I was not with Jones on Sunday night. I heard he was pinched, but I did not know what for. I do not know a man named Bennett at all; I should like to see the man"—he was then taken to Kennington Lane police station, and on the way said, "This is what comes of being with such people"—at the station he was detained—Bennett came in and Hewson said, "I know that man now; what does Jones say about it?"—I explained to him what Jones had previously said, and Hewson said, "I am not going to be shoved into this for him; it is quite true I went down the man for 3d. and gave it to Harry, and he said he would give it back I was drunk and had none of the money. Of course if Bennett said he lost a dollar, Harry must have done it. It might have been two half-dollars and a penny I gave him; I am not going to be led into this for him. I shall mount the stand, and say what occurred. Harry strung him up and I went down him, and gave Harry what I took. I thought it was 3d.; all I know is that I only had tuppence next morning that I woke up. I was too drunk to know much about the job"—he was afterwards charged, and made no reply—I had previously arrested Jones at London Road and told him he would be arrested for being concerned with another man not in custody—he said, "This is another mixed-up
lot; I be struck dead, I do not know anything about a man being robbed last night. What time was it?"—I said, "About 11.30"—he said, "You have made a bloomer; this is another let-go"—at the station, whilst the prosecutor was explaining the facts, he said, "I can prove I was at the George all last evening"—whilst the charge was being taken he said, "Now speak the truth, Jack; did not I get between you and Hewson and try to save you from being hurt? You know I would not do you any harm. I never robbed you. It was the other man, and you know I tried to pall you away."
Hewson, in his defence on oath, said that he saw Bennett and another man that Bennett punched him and he punched Bennett; that Bennett flung his coat off and got him in the road; that Jones came up and separated them, and that he (Hewson) went home; that what Beard had said as to his statement was a lot of lies, and invented by him.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
New Court and Third Court, June 26th and 27th, 1905.
Five months' hard labour. —
(574.) WILLIAM HATHAWAY (22) to feloniously making counterfeit coins. Two previous convictions were proved against him. He was stated to be an associate of coiners. Eighteen months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(575.) JAMES HURRELL (26) to stealing £21 12s., the moneys of Frederick Charles Wright, his master, having been convicted of felony at Stratford on August 3rd, 1904. Six previous conviction were proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
New Court, July 3rd, 1905.
MR. A. M. TALBOT Prosecuted; MR. WILDEY-WRIGHT Defended.
ROBERT COHNREICH . I am a boot dealer, of 157, Whitechapel Road, and several other branches, and I live at 156, Waterloo Road—in November, 1903, I opened a new branch at 88, High Street, Deptford, and engaged the prisoner as manager at 30s. a week free rent, and gas—he is a married man, and lived on the premises with his wife—with the exception of a by outside he was the only man—during the busy time on Saturdays, about 4 or 5 p.m., I had an extra man—between November, 1903, and November, 1904, there were the following difference on stock-takings: on January 5th there was a difference of 6s. on stock of £411; on April 12th, there was a difference of 5s. on stock of £453; on August 11th there was a difference of £9 10s. on stock of £475; and on November 29th there was a difference of £1 10s. on stock of £467—we usually have a guarantee of some kind with a manager, end the prisoner arranged that he would pay me 5s. a week as a guarantee fund for any shortage in stock—these small deficiencies were made up out of the guarantee fund—the prisoner had on ordinary stock bock and a sales
book—in the stock book (M. 13 Produced) he entered up all goods received by him, and all the weekly expenditure—at stocktakings this book was submitted to me to compare with a duplicate which I had, and he also made a weekly statement to me—the greater part of the goods were sent him from my head office in Whitechapel Road, with all invoice, which was usually sent by post, or, if not, by the carmen, but it was always sent—the items would then be entered in the stock book by the prisoner after having been checked—these are twenty-two weekly statements (M. 14 to M. 35 Produced) from December, 1904, to April, 1905; they are receipts of money in the prisoner's handwriting and represent the cash handed over on the Saturday—this is the sales book (Produced) in which he entered up the amounts received for goods sold—these are some invoices, and against each item there is a tick—they were not ticked when they left me, and they were when I got them back again from the prisoner—on November 29th, 1904, the prisoner and I took stock—we have two duplicate books, the prisoner one and I the other, and he calls out the stock in the shop and it is put down in these books—he would, for instance, call out, "Five pairs at 12s. 6d.," and I would enter it in my book, "Five pairs at 12s. 6d.=£3 2s. 6d.—I would see that each of these items was accurate as he called it out—each page was added up separately without being carried forward, to compare the two books more easily—this stock-taking shows that there were 2,055 pairs of boots on the premises on November 29th, 1904—between that date and the next stocktaking, May 2nd, 1905, I sent boots usually every week, sometimes once a fortnight, from Whitechapel, where they were packed on the premises, usually in my presence—in other cases boots were sent direct from the manufacturers to the prisoner, in which cases the manufacturers would send the invoices to me and I would send them to the prisoner—2,821 pairs of boots are represented by those invoices sent to the prisoner, of which 2,115 had been sent by me from Whitechapel—I was in the habit of calling at the prisoner's shop on Saturdays, when I would ask him whether the goods were right and whether they were received in proper condition—on one or two occasions he complained of a small item wrong, and that was rectified in the next invoice, but it was never more than 4s. or 5s.—the trade value of the boots sent him after November 29th, 2,821 pairs, was between £500 and £600—the next stocktaking was on May 2nd—2,633 pairs had been sold and 63 pairs returned to Whitechapel since November 29th—I have not the number of pairs of boots that ought to have been in the shop—on May 2nd, when we took stock in exactly the same way as before, there were 1,735 pairs,—my wife and his wife helped—there was a deficiency of 445 pairs, value £123 12s. 8d., which I found on taking my stock back to Whitechapel—I went down to see him the next morning, May 3rd—I was rather agitated at the time, and I asked him if he had his stock book—he said, "Yes"—I asked him what he made it—he said, "I make it—123 11s. 11d. short"—I said, "How can you account for it?"—he said, "I cannot account for it at all"—I said, "Have you been robbed?"—he said, "No; I have missed five pairs of boots from the outside of the shop"—I asked him whether the invoices
were correct—he said, "I have gone all through them a second time and found them perfectly correct"—we went through the stock a second time, with exactly the same result—I sent for the manager of one of my other businesses and said to the prisoner, "I will give the shop in charge of somebody else"—I dismissed him summarily—he said, "I have no place to go to," and I said, "You cannot stop here under these conditions"—he asked for no salary—"Well," he said, "I will go and try and find someone to take my furniture away as soon as possible"—he came back after a little while and said he would fetch his furniture at 7—I communicated with the police, and when he returned about 7.30 I asked him in the presence of the police officer if he could account for the deficiency in the stock—he said, "I cannot account for it at all, only that I have lost five pairs of boots from the outside"—I said, "Were the goods correct to invoice?"—he said, "Yes"—I then gave him into custody—I have looked through all these railway receipts (Produced), and where "Mayhew" appears it is either in the prisoner's or his wife's writing. [The COURT held that unless the Prosecution could show fraudulent dealings on the part of the prisoner the Jury could not convict him on a mere deficiency of stock. MR. WILDEY-WRIGHT deferred his cross-examination of the prosecutor.]
WILLIAM SARJEANT (Sergeant.) On May 3rd I attended at 88, High Street, Deptford, when the prisoner was given into my custody by the prosecutor—he was in the act of moving his furniture away—I told him I should arrest him—he said, "I am very sorry, but I can give no possible idea where the goods have gone to. I had some bad debts, and I have lost one or two pairs outside, but that does not account for the deficiency"—on the way to the station he said, "I have been paying the hire of some furniture, which has made me very short; that is the only explanation I can give." MR. TALBOT intimated that he could not call evidence of dishonest dealings on the part of the prisoner, on which the COURT directed the Jury to return a verdict of NOT GUILTY . (See next Case.)
MR. A. M. TALBOT, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
Old Court, June 28th, 1905.
CHARLOTTE CAPON . I am the prisoner's wife—I have been living apart from him since November—I was then in Lewisham Workhouse—on November 5th I had a little drop to drink, and was locked up for five days—when I came out, my husband had put my children in the
workhouse and sold up my home—I stayed in the workhouse for five months—I understood that the prisoner was doing odd jobs at New Cross—when I came out I went to Mrs. Pomfrey's, 2, Boon's Place, Lea—I came out of the workhouse for my husband to get us a home—he said he would come back and live with me and have the children out—I stayed at Lea for three weeks, and then went to 14, Power's Place, New Cross, because my husband did not pay for my second two weeks' lodging—he paid for the first two—there was no payment at Power's Place; I stayed with a friend—I met my husband in the daytime and looked for rooms—the children were, and are still, in the workhouse—while I was living at this place the prisoner was living at his sister's at New Cross—on May 29th we got two rooms at 55, Elswick Road, Lewisham—my husband was going to pay the rent; he and I and the children were going to live there—he was going to pay the deposit on May 30th, and arrange with the people when he was to take the rooms—on the 29th I met him at 9 p.m. by appointment—he asked me where I was going—I said, "To Mr. Eley's, at New Cross," where I had been staying for a week—he said I was not to go there, and if I went there he would have no more to do with me—we had a few words—I said I would go back into the workhouse with my children—he did not care about me being with the people at New Cross; I do not know why—I went to the workhouse and told the master I was coming there; he would not' let me go, so I had nowhere to go—my husband followed me to the workhouse—the master asked me where my husband was; he was waiting outside and the master told me to go to him, so I went out and followed him—we walked about; I do not know where he took me—we ultimately came to a passage at Nunhead—I do not know what time it was; it was very late—we had been walking about for three or four hours—we had hardly spoken to each other—he said he would teach me a lesson not to follow him about—he went on walking, and then stopped nearly at the bottom of the passage—I thought he was going to light his pipe, so I stopped too—he put his arm round my neck and pulled me down—I screamed, and he put one hand over my mouth and caught me by the throat with the other—I expect I fainted—when I came to I felt a tickling at my throat; I put my hand up and felt him with a knife—I said, "Oh, don't"—he said, "I intend to finish you now"—I managed to get up—I struggled with him for the knife, and managed to get it away from him; it broke in the struggle—this (Produced) is it; he used it at his work—he is a bootmaker—I got the knife and ran away—I do not remember anything more—I was after-wards taken to the Camberwell infirmary, and I am there now—I know my husband's writing.
ARTHUR PYETT (481 P.) About 3.15 a.m. on Tuesday, May 30th, I was in Ivydale Road, Peckham Rye—I heard a woman screaming about 200 yards away—I saw the prosecutrix running towards me from the direction of Nunhead cemetery—I know the neighbourhood very well—there is a lighted passage there—the prosecutrix was holding a handkerchief to her throat—I found she was bleeding from her neck after she had made a statement to me she fainted—I sent for a doctor—
I pressed the wound together tight, and stopped the bleeding until he came—she was taken to the Camberwell infirmary—after I had picked her up I found the handle of a knife and part of a blade (Produced)—the handle was underneath where she fell, and the blade I found in the folds of her dress, just below her waist—the handle was covered with blood and part of the blade in her dress had several smears on it.
WILLIAM WITHERMAN . I am a bootmaker, of 134, High Road, Lea—the prisoner has worked for me for the last six weeks—he worked piece-work, and earned on the average about 20s. or 22s. per week—at the time he was working for me we were very slack, and he is a very slow workman—I have seen this knife before—it is the prisoner's—I sell knives, and sold him this one—he usually kept it on the bench—it was used in his trade—I received a letter from him, but it is the first time I have seen his writing, and he did not sign it.
ALFRED DUKE (Sergeant P.) I saw the prisoner at Blackheath Road police station—I told him he would be taken into custody for stabbing his wife in the throat with a knife—he replied, "Yes, that is quite right"—he was conveyed to Peckham police station, and in reply to the charge said, "Yes, that is quite right."
FRANK OSBORN . I am a surgeon at 290, Ivydale Road, Nunhead—about 3.30 a.m. on Tuesday, May 30th, I was called to attend to the prosecutrix—she was lying full length on the pavement, covered with blood, looking very ill; in fact, I thought for a moment she was dead—the policeman was holding the wound and was probably the means of saving her life, because directly he moved his hand away the blood started again—I applied a compress and first dressing, and had her removed on the police ambulance to the infirmary—I saw no more of her until I saw her at the Police Court—I examined her throat then and found a wound in the right side of her throat about one and a half inches long and very deep, from which blood was welling—it was a very dangerous wound—it might have been caused by this knife.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "Well, all I can say is I am very sorry for what I have done. She has misconducted herself in such a filthy manner."
JAMES SCOTT (By the COURT). I am the medical officer at Brixton prison—the prisoner first came under my observation in November, 1897—he was then on remand, having attempted suicide by taking oxalic acid—I had him under observation for a week—I reported that I considered him very melancholy, with insane delusions—he was sent from the Court to Camberwell House asylum, and was, I believe, detained for six months—I do not think he has been in any asylum since—he has now been in custody since May 30th—I have watched him—I cannot say that he is insane, but his mind is not well balanced—I cannot say that he does not know the difference between right and wrong.
ALFRED DUKE (Re-examined by the COURT.) The prisoner is looked upon as an honest hard-working man—I have the particulars given by Dr. Scott regarding his detention—apart from that, all I can find out is that his brother says he was always of a violent temper—his master
once found fault with him, when the prisoner threw a last at him—he took the prisoner to the Police Court and had his indentures cancelled, so he is not a good workman—each employer says he is a good, honest man—the prisoner states that his wife misconducted herself with his brother, but they both deny it—the brother says that all he has done for his sister-in-law is to give her a glass of stout occasionally—the prisoner and his wife lived with his sister for some years, and during that time they were fairly happy, although there were occasional quarrels through the wife drinking.
The prisoner. "I admit I did stab her in the throat. I did not do it with the intention of doing any grievous bodily harm to her."
GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude. The COURT and Jury commended Pyett for his prompt conduct.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, June 28th, 1905.
579. ERNEST MOBSBY (38), and ROBERT KAVANAGH (27) PLEADED GUILTY to acts of gross indecency with each other MOBSBY who had been charged with a similar offence before— Nine months' hard labour. KAVANAGH— Six months' hard labour —And
(580.) HERBERT BOSTOCK (40) to acts of gross indecency with male persons. Dr. Scott medical officer at Brixton, said that he considered him to be of weak intellect and practically imbecile. Two years' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JULY 24TH, 1905.