CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 12TH, 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 Tuesday, September 12th, 1905, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. Sir JOHN POUND , Bart., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WALTER GEORGE FRANK PHILLIMORE, BART., and the Hon. Sir THOMAS TOWNSEND BUCKNILL, Knt., two of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt.; Sir JOSEPH RENALS, Bart.; Sir ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOHN CHALES BELL , Knt.; HENRY GEORGE SMALLMAN , Esq., and WILLIAM CHARLES SIMMONS , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; LUMLEY SMITH , Esq., K.C., Judge of the City of London Court; and His Honour Judge RENTOUL, K.C., Commissioner, His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
POUND, MAYOR. ELEVENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) 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.—Tuesday, September 12th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(626.) WILLIAM SILVESTER (61) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing a silver match box and four penny postage stamps, the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(627.) HENRY JAMES CAMFIELD (33) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, two post letters containing postal orders for 8s. 6d. and 20s., the property of the Postmaster General. Nine months' hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(628.) ARTHUR VINCENT OLIVER (21) to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, two post letters containing an order for the payment of 10s. and some false teeth, the property of the Postmaster General. He received a good character. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(629.) FREDERICK WILLIAM LOXTON (24) to forging and uttering two orders for the payment of £8 and £5, with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of a banker's cheque, with intent to defraud. A previous conviction was proved against him. Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] —And
(630.) GEORGE HENRY FIELD to unlawfully and maliciously writing and publishing a false and malicious libel of and concerning Helen Mary Tatton. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.
NEW COURT, Tuesday, and
FOURTH COURT, Wednesday and Thursday, September 12th, 13th, and 14th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSION Prosecuted.
It appearing that though the coins in question were medals of the appearance and size of a shilling, they did not on their face bear any resemblance to a shilling, end the COURT held that the prisoner could not be convicted of uttering counterfeit coin, though in uttering them he may have intended them to pass as shillings.
NOT GUILTY . (See page 1421.)
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
VICTORIA ALICE GARNE . I am the wife of Thomas Garner, the landlord of the John Bull, Bruce Road, Bromley—at 12.5 p.m. on June 16th the prisoner came in with a man for two half pints of beer, price 2d., tendering this counterfeit shilling in payment (Produced)—I at once detected it to be bad and sent for an officer—I told the prisoner it was bad and she said that she did not know it was—on the officer's arrival he asked her to turn her purse out—I gave the coin to him.
WILLIAM ELLIOT (806 K.) On June 16th I was called to the John Bull, where I saw Mrs. Garner and the prisoner—Mrs. Garner gave me a counterfeit shilling—the prisoner said she had tendered the coin, but did not know where she had got it from; she had either got it in change for a half-sovereign, or she had got it from a man; she did not know which—two half-crowns, a sixpence and 6d. in bronze, good money, were found upon her—when taken to the station and charged, she said she was a prostitute and had got it from a man—the inspector at the station refused the charge.
JOHN KNEWSTUBB . I am a potman at the Lion beerhouse, Girand Street, Poplar—at 11.30 p.m. on August 25th the prisoner and a man came in and had two or three glasses of refreshment, for which the prisoner paid—I cannot say whether she paid for each lot—before they had a pony of bitter the man paid—he went out and called the prisoner out—after two or three minutes she came out and said, "Have you drawn that pony of bitter?"—she had ordered it as the man was calling her out—the price of a pony of bitter is 1d.—I said, "No," and drew the pony and she put down this counterfeit shilling (Produced)—I said, "This is bad," and she said, "Oh, yes," and gave me a good shilling, for which I gave her 11d. change—I put the bad shilling on the counter with the change—my eldest brother went to the till and said in her presence. "Here is another bad shilling"—I compared the two bad shillings and found they were both the same—referring to the one lying on the counter the prisoner said, "I got it off a man I went round the corner with."
ARTHUR LAYTON (867 K.) At 12.25 p.m. on August 25th I was called to the Lion beer-house, where I saw the prisoner and Knewstubb, who showed me a bad shilling—I asked the prisoner what she was doing with
such money as that and she said, "I have been round the corner with a man. You know b—well who I am. I am a prostitute, and the man gave me two shillings, and now he has gone and left me. How did I know it was bad?"—I asked if she had any more like it and she said, "No"—I saw she had a purse in her hand, and I took it—in it I found two six-pences and 7 3/4 d. in bronze, good money—I had never seen her before—the was taken to the station and charged with uttering one bad shilling, when she replied, "Very well."
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—I have three counterfeit shillings before me, of which these two shillings tendered at the Lion beer-house are from the same mould, which means that they, must come from the same source—I have seen as many as forty or fifty made from the same mould, but fifteen or twenty would be nearer the average; it depends on the skill of the maker and the strength of the mould.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "Last Friday night, about 9, I was at the Green Gate public-house, Plaistow, and I met a gentleman who gave me a drink, a shilling, a sixpence, and 6d. in bronze. I felt tired and went towards Brick Lane for a lodging. I had some beer and was getting into a 'bus when a man took me into the Liverpool Arms, and we then went to Poplar. We called in and had a drink at another house. By the time we got to Knewstubb's it was 10 o'clock and I had 1s. 8 3/4 d. in my possession. The man paid for the drinks there. I never tendered any money nor paid for a drink there. At 12.20 the man took me outside, gave me a shilling and told me to get one and a half pints of ale in a can and get a drop for myself. He said he would be back, but never returned. When I called for the pennyworth of bitter I tendered the shilling the man gave me. My purse was in my pocket. John Knewstubb said it was bad and I said I did not know it, nor anything of the other bad shilling found in the till."
The prisoner. "I have nothing more to add."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
EDGAR BERRINGER . I am a barman in the Cock and Hoop, Hanbury Street, E.C.—between 4.20 and 4.30 p.m. on Friday, August 18th, the prisoners and a man not in custody were in the bar—one of them called for a drink; I cannot say which—I know Williams had two pennyworth of port, but I cannot say what the other prisoners had; I think they had penny drinks—they were all talking together—this florin (Produced) was put on the counter; I cannot say by whom—I took it up and put it on the shelf at the side, as it felt rather lighter than an ordinary florin—I looked round for my testing apparatus, and, not seeing it, I put it in a glass—I gave 1s. 5d. or 1s. 6d. change for it, but I cannot recollect to whom—they had their drinks, and all went out together—a man, whom I know
now to be Skellington, came in, and I gave him the florin—I had no other florin there—later on the same evening I was called to the police station where I saw fifteen men in a room, amongst whom I recognised Gibson and Morris at once—I was taken from the room and on going back I saw six or seven women, from whom I picked out Williams—I was told to touch the people that came into the bar, and I touched all the prisoners—they said nothing when I did so—the following morning, August 19th I was taken to Leman Street police station, where I saw a number of men, amongst whom I recognised Walker—he had had a slight moustache, but it was oft when I saw him at the station.
Cross-examined by Gibson. I admit that I said before the Magistrate that you did not give me any bad money, but I say now that I do not know whether you did so or not—I remember Williams sat on a form in the bar—I think all the rest of you were standing up.
Cross-examined by Williams. I did not say at the Police Court that Walker was already in the public-house when you and the three other men entered.
ELIZA GRIGSON . I am the licence holder of the Enterprise, Chicksand Street, Mile End Road—Hanbury Street is just at the back of Chicksand Street, about a minute's walk away—on the afternoon of August 18th Morris, Gibson, Walker and another man came in together, and one of them, I do not remember who, called for a pot of ale—one of them, I do not know who, put down 4d.—two or three of them went out at the back, and when they came back Walker sat down opposite an old woman—I could not make out what he said, but he made out that he knew her and asked her to have a half pint of beer—she called out to me, "He will have it he knows me, but I do not remember ever seeing him before"—I served the half pint and Walker gave me a florin—I gave him 1s. 1ld. change and put the florin on the till with one other florin that was there—just about the time that Walker claimed acquaintance with the old woman, Williams in another bar ordered a glass of stout, price 1 1/2 d., and gave me a florin in payment—I served her and gave her 1s. 10 1/2 d. change—I put the florin on the till with the one Walker had given me, and another one, making three altogether—the four men then went out and Williams went out very much the same time; I cannot say they went out all at the same time—a man, whom I now know to be Skellington, came in some little time after they had gone and I found two counterfeit florins amongst the three that I put on the till, which I gave to him—that same evening I went to the police station, when I saw Williams standing alone, and I recognised her as the woman who had asked for a glass of stout—I also identified Gibson and Morris—three days after that I identified Walker.
Cross-examined by Gibson. You did not tender any bad money—I cannot say whether the other men went out before you.
was first drawn to them by a policeman coming in and pointing them out—there was a commotion and I saw Williams and Gibson try to break oat—after they had been arrested and in their presence the policeman, asked me if I had any coins similar to the one he showed me—I went to the till and found these two bad florins (Produced); there were no bigger coins than that in there—I had taken the two florins five minutes before the police rushed in, but I cannot say whom I took them from.
Cross-examined by Williams. You were standing up when I saw you first—I did not hear you say, "I have not got anything to run away for."
ARTHUR SKELLINGTON (183 H.) About 4.20 p.m. on August 18th I was in plain clothes and off duty in Hanbury Street, when I saw Gibson, Morris, Walker, another man not in custody and Williams in Dunk Street, which runs into Hanbury Street—I saw Walker look into the saloon bar of the Cock and Hoop and shake his head to the other four, and then beckon them with his hand to come along—they then all went into the public bar—I waited outside for five minutes, when they all came out again together and went along Hanbury Street, down King Edward Street—they stopped by a van there and Williams bent down and got something from the bottom of her skirt in white tissue paper, which she gave to Walker—they were all standing together facing each other in a circle; Walker and Williams were standing together—they then all went down King Edward Street and the four men went into the Enterprise public-house whilst Williams remained outside talking to an old woman, who was sitting on a chair—she then crossed the road and went into the door-way of a private house—she remained in there for about one minute, when the came out and entered the Enterprise public-house, but by another doorway from which the four men had entered—while they were in there I ran back to the Cock and Hoop, which is about thirty yards away, and spoke to the barman there, who gave me a counterfeit florin—I came back and waited for them to come out of the Enterprise—Williams came out of her door and the four men from their door at the same time and went down King Edward Street—they stopped at a van loaded with barrels and Williams again stooped down and handed one of them something; I cannot say whom—they then turned down Old Montagu Street and stood at the corner of St. Mary's Street and Old Montagu Street—while they were standing there I went back to the Enterprise about thirty yards off and spoke to Miss Grigson, who gave me two bad florins together—I ran back from the Enterprise and found they were going down St. Mary's Street, making towards Whitechapel Road—on getting to the corner of St. Mary's Street and Whitechapel Road they stopped and began talking together—they turned up Whitechapel Road and went into the Blue Anchor—while they were in there I ran and fetched Aylett, who was on point duty some 100 yards off—he and I went into the Blue Anchor, where we saw the five of them in the front bar—Walker, Gibson and the other man were standing up and Morris and Williams were sitting down on a wooden form underneath the window—we closed the door and I pointed them out to Aylett—I said to them
that they would be taken into custody for passing counterfeit coin, where-upon Walker said, "Me as well?" and threw this table knife (Produced) at Aylett, which missed him—I did not see where he got it from—I got him by the throat to arrest him and he hit me a violent blow in the stomach and knocked me down for the minute—Gibson made a rush for the door and kicked me while I was down—Aylett stopped him—Morris said, "Let me get out. I do not know these men," but I said, "No, you don't," and prevented him doing so—Williams also wanted to get out—Walker tried to get out by the door, but he was stopped by the other officer—I caught hold of him and pulled him in again, and he escaped over the bar—I cannot say where he went—he had a light moustache then—I then took Morris and Williams into custody—Morris said, "Me pass counterfeit coin? I do not know these men," and Williams said, "Mind what you are saying of; I am a married woman. These men asked me to have a drink"—I got other assistance and searched Morris, but I could not find anything on him at all—after having got further assistance I looked round the bar, and under the seat where Morris and Williams had been sitting I found this counterfeit florin (Produced)—the man not in custody escaped through the bar—Gibson was very violent and we could not search him then—Gibson, Morris and Williams were then taken to the station and charged with uttering counterfeit coin and assaulting the police, to which they said nothing—Walker had escaped—his description was circulated as a man wanted—I went with detectives to King's Cross on Monday, August 21st—I left the detectives and on coming back a minute after I found they had Walker in custody—I said, "That is the man," to which he made no reply.
Cross-examined by Morris. You were the quietest of the whole lot—you said something to the effect that you were innocent and did not wish to escape.
Cross-examined by Gibson. The first man I cot hold of was Walker—when you were brought back after you rushed out your head was bleeding—I felt the kick you gave me for a week afterwards—the doctor examined me when I got to the station—I have not mentioned that before because it was not necessary.
Cross-examined by Williams. I had not got time to ask Miss Grigson whether you had passed one of the counterfeit coins; I had to follow you up—I was twenty yards away when I saw you give something to Walker in the first place.
Cross-examined by Walker. The other man escaped out of the door first—I could not stop him; he shoved me away.
By the COURT. I know Walker by sight.
EDGAR AYLETT (57 H.) On the afternoon of Friday, August 18th, I was on point duty in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel Road when Skellington came up and told me something, in consequence of which we went to the front bar of the Blue Anchor, where we saw the four prisoners and another man not in custody—Morris and Williams were sitting on a seat, and Gibson and Walker were standing up against the counter—
Skellington pointed them out to me and I stood against the door and said, "Consider yourselves in custody for passing counterfeit coins"—Gibson made a rush at me and said, "Me pass counterfeit coins?"—I caught him by the throat and Walker threw a knife at me, which missed me and hit the side—I could not see where he got it from—Skellington caught hold of him and he struggled and got away by kicking and punching—he made a rush at me as I was standing at the door and I caught him by the throat—I had Gibson by my right hand and I caught Walker by the left—they threw me on my back, but I still held on to them—they dragged me into the street and kicked me about the legs and body—the man not in custody, when I was on the ground, caught hold of my left hand and twisted my fingers until I was compelled to leave go of Walker—I jumped up as soon as possible and hit Walker on the shoulder with my truncheon—I then struck Gibson on the head, felling him to the ground—the third man got away—I dragged Walker and Gibson into the public-house, when they became violent again—Walker got from me, jumped over the counter and escaped through the back—an officer came up and assisted us—we took Gibson's boots off, as he was kicking very violently—we took them all to the station, I taking Gibson—I saw a florin picked up from under the seat on which Morris and Williamson had been sitting.
Cross-examined by Williams. When Gibson and Walker dragged me into the street you were struggling with the other officer—the only time I struck Gibson was in the street—I did not hear you say, "If you strike that man again I will follow to the station and go for a witness"—I saw you in the house when I first came in.
WILLIAM CLARK (279 H.) About 5 p.m. on August 18th I was in the Commercial Street police station when Morris, Williams and Gibson were brought in—they were taken into the store room—I saw Gibson put his hand in his trousers pocket and bring something out, which he dropped behind some goods—I looked there and found this counterfeit florin (Produced)—I told him that I had seen him drop it, and I should search him, and he said some words to the effect that he did not drop it and that he had not any more—on searching him, in the same pocket from which he took the florin that he dropped I found another counterfeit florin and two shillings, two sixpences and 8 1/2 d. in bronze, good money.
EMMA DANSON . I am the matron at Leman Street police station and it is my duty to search female prisoners that are brought in—I searched Williams and found a purse containing 2s. 6d. in silver and 5s. in bronze, good money—under her upper skirt at the right side there was a detachable pocket—there was no other pocket of any kind.
Cross-examined by Williams. I found no hole or pocket of any description except the one on the hip.
CHARLEY SMITH (Detective H.) I received a description from Skellington in consequence of which I went with him and Pye to the neighbourhood of Pentonville on August 21st—I saw Walker in Ventnor Road and said to him. "We are going to arrest you"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "With being concerned with three others in uttering counterfeit
coin at the Blue Anchor public-house in the Whitechapel Road, last Friday"—he made no reply—Skellington then came up and said, "That is the man"—I took him to Leman Street police station—he was placed amongst eleven others when he was identified by Berringer, Grigson and Faustmann separately—he altered his position and his cap between each identification.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—I have eight counterfeit coins before me, seven of which are from the same mould—the broken one taken from Gibson's pocket comes from a different mould.
Morris's statement before the Magistrate: "I know nothing at all about it."
Williams: "I do not know these men. I only had one drink with them. When I was going into the Blue Anchor I saw the fighting with the men. I saw the policeman hit Gibson upon the head with his truncheon. Then he got out into the street and a policeman brought him back into the public-house and I followed. I said, 'If you hit him again like that I shall have to go to the station for a witness for the man.' The constable in private clothes said, 'I think I had better take you as well.' I was quite ignorant of what was going on."
Williams, in her defence on oath, said that on August 18th in the afternoon she met Gibson, Morris and another man not in custody, who asked her to have a drink; that on leaving the Cock and Hoop, where they met Walker, she was invited to have another drink, but did not care to; that the man not in custody gave her a florin to get a drink and she bought a glass of stout at the Enterprise; that on leaving the Enterprise the men followed her, and the man not in custody invited her to have another drink, which she accepted; that before going into the Blue Anchor with the other men she bought 2d. worth of grapes; that on going into the Blue Anchor she saw a struggle going on; that on seeing the policeman hit Gibson on the head she said, "If you hit that man again I shall follow to the station for a witness"; that on no occasion had she stopped by a van and handed something to one of the men; and that she had no pocket at the bottom of her skirt from which she could have taken anything.
By Morris: When you asked me I said I had not known the man who gave me 2s. before.
By Gibson: When the constable hit you on the head I did not see Walker there—you and the constable got out into the street and he fetched you back again—I saw him strike you on the head a second time with his truncheon—they held you down and took your boots off.
By Walker: I did not see you anywhere near when Gibson and the policeman were wrestling—I saw you run out of the doorway.
Evidence in Reply.
Morris, in his defence, said that after having earned id. in odd jobs on the day in question and having spent it in food, he met a man nicknamed Sampson in Hanbury Street, who treated him at public-houses until they arrived at the Blue Anchor, where he was charged with uttering counterfeit coin; that the whole thing was a trap laid for him; and that he had never been convicted in his life.
Gibson, in his defence, said that he met Morris and Sampson in Hanbury Street, when they went and had a drink at a public-house where they met Walker; that they finished up at the Blue Anchor, where he was arrested; that he had not uttered any counterfeit coin, and as to the florin found on him, he must have got it in his wages the night before.
Walker, in his defence on oath, said that Sampson with the other prisoners met Mm in a public-house where Sampson paid for drinks all round; that at the Enterprise Sampson gave Him a florin with which to treat an old lady, whom he said he knew but did not want to talk to; that he treated the old lady, but in tendering the florin he did not know it was bad; that on no occasion had Williams handed him anything in the street; that he had not thrown a knife at the police nor had he assaulted them in any way; and that the moustache he was said to have had was merely a four days' growth which he had since shaved off.
By Williams. You were not in my company at the Enterprise.
MORRIS NOT GUILTY . GIBSON, WALKER, WILLIAMS GUILTY . GIBSON, (†) against whom four previous convictions were proved— Two years' hard labour. WALKER(†)— Two years' hard labour. WILLIAMS,(†) against whom seven previous convictions were proved— Eighteen months' hard labour.
The COURT commended the police for their promptitude and vigour.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
LEONARD BATCHELOUR (107 E.) I have been a constable ten months and a fortnight—in the early morning of August 7th I was on duty in Emerald Street, Theobald's Road, when I saw the prisoners and another man standing in the street using obscene language and fighting—I told them to go home and not make a row—they went a few yards and Alfred Sills turned round and came back to me and said, "You are only half a f—man. I will f—well kill you"—the other man with him had gone away—Susan Sills came to the back of me and caught hold of me by the neck while Alfred held on to my feet and pulled me to the ground—he then jumped on my stomach with his feet twice while Susan punched my head, holding my arm—Alfred snatched my whistle and threw it away—he then ran down Emerald Street some fifty yards—Susan was still behind me and I shook her off—I picked up my whistle and ran after Alfred—I blew it as I ran along—I overtook him and caught hold of his.
neck—he wrestled with me and we both fell to the ground—he got on to the top of me and held my throat with his fingers—he knelt on my stomach, thumping me with his knees, while Susan punched my head—Speed then came to my assistance—I went to the station—the Divisional Surgeon saw me and attended to my injuries—I was on the sick list for about eleven days—my wrist and ankle were sprained—I have pains in my stomach still, and I still have marks on my shin—there were bruises on my ribs—neither prisoner was under the influence of drink at the time.
Cross-examined by Alfred Sills. It took me forty-five minutes to get from Bow Street to the police station where you were being tried—I had a stick to help me—I did not tell the Magistrate that I had no marks or bruises—I went to the Divisional Surgeon's house—there were mud marks from the heel and toe of a boot on my tunic—it was true when I said that I could not remember anything more after Speed arrived; I was knocked about so much—I was assisted to the station.
Cross-examined by Susan Sills. I have still got the mark on my head where you hit me; it has turned to an abscess now.
MARK SPEED (461 E.) About 12.20 a.m. on August 7th I was in Brownlow Street, which is about 200 yards from Emerald Street, when I heard a police whistle blown—I went to Theobald's Road, where I saw a large crowd running in the direction of Emerald Street—on arriving there I saw Batchelour struggling with the prisoners with a large crowd standing round—the prisoners had Batchelour between them, standing up—before I could get through the crowd they all fell to the ground, Batchelour at the bottom—Alfred bumped him with his knees and kicked him with his feet while Susan struck his head—I pulled her off and caught hold of Alfred, who had one hand over Batchelour's throat—I pulled him off—we struggled a bit and he said, "I will do the same to you, as I did to your f—pal"—he threw me to the ground and got on top of me, but I overpowered him and got on top of him—Crabtree arrived and I directed his attention to Batchelour, who was standing up, but in a very exhausted and rocky condition—I took Alfred to the station—I brought back the ambulance, and met Susan being taken to the station—she was very violent and refused to walk, so we put her on the ambulance.
Cross-examined by Alfred Sills. You might have fallen into the position I saw you, but you had no cause to bump your knees; you were free to get on to your feet—Batchelour could not use his legs—I suppose I was ten to fifteen yards away when I first saw you—Batchelour would have been choked if you had not released your hold of his throat—you did not get the chance to bump me with your knees—Constable 463 E assisted to take you to the station—he was not called at the Police Court, because he did not see the assault—I had nothing to do with your wife except to help put her in the ambulance.
Street when I saw a crowd—Speed was holding Alfred on the ground and Batchelour had hold of Susan—I went to Speed's assistance, who directed me to go to Batchelour's assistance—she was hitting him in the face and I took her away from him—he was very exhausted—I took her into custody—half-way to the station I had to send a private individual for an ambulance, as she became so violent—Speed fetched the ambulance back—Batchelour assisted to take her for about 100 yards, but he became very exhausted and could not go on.
WILLIAM WELCH (Inspector E.) I was in charge of the Gray's Inn Road police station on August 7th when the prisoners were brought in, Susan in an ambulance—Batchelour came to the station just before by himself in an exhausted condition—I sent him to the Divisional Surgeon, after he had given an account of the assault in the prisoners' hearing—the prisoners were then charged with assaulting him and they made no reply; they were shouting and bawling.
Cross-examined by Alfred Sills. You were brought in before your wife—the police had some difficulty in bringing you to the station—after Batchelour had had a rest he was in a fit state to go to the doctor.
CHARLES HAYMORE HILL , M.D. I am a registered medical practitioner, of 45, Mecklenburgh Square—I was acting for the Divisional Surgeon on August 7th when in the early morning Batchelour came in—he was looking very pale and suffering from shock, and could hardly hold himself upright—he complained of pain about the pit of his stomach, round the right side of his ribs and in various parts of his body where he had been injured—he had much difficulty in drawing his breath—his right wrist and right ankle were sprained, there were two abrasions on his right shin, and his right knee was swollen and bruised—there was a tenderness along the margin of his ribs on the right side and there were marks of mud on the front of his uniform covering the injury to his ribs, unmistakably caused by kicks from a boot, and there was a quantity of mud all down the right side of his trousers—I could distinguish the whole footmark on the front of his tunic, which was consistent with the prisoner jumping on him with both his feet—he was perfectly sober—I advised that he should be put on the sick list and I attended him for eleven days afterwards.
Cross-examined by Alfred Sills. I said at the Police Court that Batchelour came between 12.30 and 1 a.m.; I do not swear to any particular time—I only attended at the second hearing at the Police Court—I do not think the bruises on the constable's shin could have been caused by his leg hitting the kerb; I would undertake to tell the difference between those and kick marks—I swear they were kick marks—I believe he walked back to the station—the sprain to his ankle would cause him much pain, especially when walking—it is not half a mile from my house to the station—I did not consider it my duty to put him in a cab—I glanced professionally at his neck—I did not notice any marks there—I saw there were none—I have no note of his having complained of your having seized him by the throat.
Alfred Sills, in his defence on oath, said that his home having been burnt down the night before, he was taking his wife to her mother's to stop the night; that having had a little to drink they were singing when Batchelour pushed his wife; that he resented it and a struggle ensued; that his wife left him and went into her mother's, returning in time to see him arrested, when she was arrested also; that he did not kick or jump on Batchelour, but may have hit him accidentally; that he did not get up and run away; that neither Speed nor Crabtree came up, but two other constables whom he could identify; that he had forgotten to cross-examine Speed and Crabtree as to that, but he had it on his notes to do so.
Evidence for the Defence.
By Alfred Sills. My daughter has suffered from hysteria for years, especially if she gets a glass of beer; when she has a fit it takes four or, at times, five to hold her—she does not seem to know what she is doing, and she has done injury to herself.
Cross-examined. I expected my daughter to come in that night—I went out on the Sunday to my son's to dinner and did not come home that night—I do not think I have known her to assault a policeman.
Susan Sills, in her defence on oath, said that she and her husband were going to her mother's; that they were singing from having had a little to drink when Batchelour came up and pushed her; that a struggle ensued between him and her husband; that she went to her mother's and on her return found her husband bad been taken into custody; that she did not assault Batchelour in any way, but she was taken into custody, and that on the way to the station she had a hysterical fit, when she did not know what she did.
ALFRED SILLS then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Mansion House on January 8th, 1902. Three previous convictions were proved against him— Fifteen months' hard labour. SUSAN SILLS— Six months' hard labour.
MR. COHEN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM JENKINS . I am a barometer maker, of 16, Dame Street, E.—I have a lodger named Berry—in the early morning of August 8th Mr. and Mrs. Berry returned in a cab and he let himself in with a key—he came into the house and gave me half a sovereign and I went out to the cabman to pay him, but he had not any change—I had a conversation with him in a voice that could be heard at a little distance off, and the prisoner pushed himself forward and said, "Do you want change, guv'nor?"—I had never seen him before—I said, "Yes. Have you got it?"—he then took out these coins from his pocket and dealt out seven into my hand, counting them out loud—as he put his hand into his pocket to get the remainder I felt they were not shillings and I said, "These are not shillings, and I will give you in charge"—he had said nothing before he gave me the coins about his advertising for "Smith's Weekly"—he said, "You do not want to get me into trouble?"—I sent my wife for a constable, who came up, and I gave him in charge.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When I discovered they were not shillings I got excited, but I was not excited before that in the least.
THOMAS BERRY . I lodge with William Jenkins, of 16, Dame Street—in the early morning of August 8th after Bank Holiday I returned home with my wife in a cab—I went upstairs and got a half-sovereign which I handed to Jenkins to pay the cabman and bring the change to me—I was called down and found Jenkins holding the prisoner by the coat—Jenkins showed me some coins and said, "Are these shillings?" and I said, "No"—Mrs. Jenkins fetched a policeman and the prisoner was given in charge—I did not hear him say anything about advertising for a paper.
Cross-examined. I did not see you hand Jenkins the coins.
WILLIAM REEDMAN (666 N.) In the early morning of August 8th I was called to 16, Dame Street, where I saw the prisoner in the custody of the prosecutor—the prisoner said he heard a dispute between the cabman and the fare, and he thought the fare was trying to bilk the cabman, so he crossed over the road and offered to change the half-sovereign, offering the seven coins for the change—I took him to the station, and on being charged he said, "I got them for an advertisement"—on searching him I found these three other coins (Produced) on him and two halfpennies.
FRANCIS JOHN LAMBURN . I am the editor of "Smith's Weekly," a publication issued by Messrs. Pearson—these coins have been used to advertise that journal—I have never seen the prisoner before, and know nothing whatever about him; he is not authorised in any way to advertise, and certainly not to give the coins in change.
Cross-examined. We distribute them to he given away as an advertisement—I do not remember sending you twenty-five on your promising to advertise the paper, but I may have done so.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—these coins have been made for the purpose of advertising—they are not current coin of the realm; they are struck by Messrs. Heaton & Co.—they would have no idea that their coins would be used for purposes of this kind.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I would like to give my version of it. About 1 o'clock on Bank Holiday evening I was going home. I saw the cabman. He said, 'This man is trying to do me out of my fare.' I asked Jenkins why he did not pay. After an argument he paid the cabman, who drove away. Jenkins said, 'I have half a sovereign.' I said, 'You have got as much half a sovereign as I have.' With that I pulled the coins out of my pocket and jingled them, saving, 'I am advertising for "Smith's Weekly."' The prosecutor was very excited and caught me by the arm and said, 'I will give you in charge. These are bad coins.' I said, 'It is very foolish to give me in charge for a thing like this. I have not received or seen the half-sovereign.' He gave me in charge."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had no intention of defrauding in any way, and that it was simply a Bank Holiday squabble.
NOT GUILTY .
The Jury wished to censure Messrs. Pearson for issuing such coins.
MR. MORTON Prosecuted.
TIMOTHY COLLISON . I am a wine merchant, of 12, Savage Gardens, Trinity Square, Tower Hill—about 12.55 p.m. on July 17th I left my office and came back just after 2 p.m., when I missed this Remington No. 7 typewriter, No. 63524 (Produced), this directory with the county suburbs, which I identify by some marks of my customers in it (Produced), and an overcoat, which I have not seen since—the typewriter coat me £21 net, and I paid 35s. for the directory—until he was in custody I had never seen the prisoner before.
HARRY EDWARD TAYLOR . I am a clerk in the Taylor Typewriting Company, of 74, Chancery Lane—on Friday, July 21st, the prisoner came into our premises and asked if we bought typewriters—I said, "Yes," and asked him what the machine was—he said, "A Remington"—he gave the name as Mrs. Horspool at first, and afterwards he gave me his name, George Horspool—he said he wanted £8 for it and I arranged to send for it at his address, 148, Rhodeswell Road, Limehouse—I sent there for it with a written order (Read): "Please give bearer your No. 7 Remington as per instructions of to-day"—the messenger returned with this Remington typewriter with a letter from the prisoner (Read): "Sir,—If this machine is to your satisfaction and the price suits you, please send
the money as soon as possible, as I have to pay a bill to-morrow; postal order to Mr. George Horspool, c/o Mrs. Brown, 148, Rhodeswell Road, Limehouse"—I compared the number of the machine with the numbers in our books, and in consequence of what I found I communicated with the police—a detective came and saw the machine—I then wrote a letter on July 21st to the prisoner (Read): "Dear Sir,—In reply to your letter of to-day's date, kindly call up here to-morrow at about 11 o'clock for cheque in settlement"—the prisoner came next day, the 22nd, at 11.15 a.m., and I showed him into the room where the detective was.
HUBERT SMITH (Detective, City). I went to Taylor's Typewriting Company's office on July 22nd—the prisoner was shown into a room where I was waiting—I said to him, "Have you come about the typewriter?"—he said, "Yes"—I showed him the typewriter and the letter he had written, which he said was his—I asked him where he got the typewriter from and he said, "I exchanged a bicycle for it on Wednesday to a man named Swaddy"—I said, "Do you know the man?"—he said, "No"—I told him we were police officers and should arrest him for stealing the machine and he said, "You cannot"—on the way to the station he said, "I gave £7 for the typewriter. I only cleared £1 for myself"—I said, "You told me you gave a bicycle for it"—he said, "No, I did not. I gave a man named Swaddy £7 for it"—he was charged at the station with stealing the typewriter, when he made no reply—on my finding the directory at 64, Oxford Street, he was charged with stealing that also, when he said, "That is the same charge"—he did not give me an account of how he got it—I have not found the overcoat.
SAMUEL ABRAHAM ISAACS . I am an assistant to Messrs. Lazarus, book-sellers, of Oxford Street—this directory was brought to me by the prisoner about the middle or latter end of July—he said he had got it for sale; he clears out offices and goes to sales—I bought it for 8s.—I afterwards picked him out from ten or twelve men.
Cross-examined. I bought a directory of you previous to this, and you gave me a receipt for the money I paid you.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have nothing to say."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had bought the typewriter and directory from a man nicknamed "Swaddy" whom he had met at sales, for £7; that "Swaddy" told him he had obtained it from a girl in exchange for a bicycle; that ha had given a full description of "Swaddy "and his probable whereabouts to the police, who had made no effort to find him; that Smith misunderstood him; that he did not say that he had exchanged a bicycle for the typewriter, but that "Swaddy" had; that when charged he said the typewriter and the directory were both included in the one sale; that the reason why before the Magistrate he said nothing was because Smith had told him whilst in the cells it would be no use his saying anything.
HUBERT SMITH (Re-examined.) That I told the prisoner that it would be of no use his saying anything before the Magistrate is false—at Chancery Lane he told me that he had exchanged a bicycle for the typewriter
with Swaddy—on the way to the station I asked for Swaddy's description and where I should find him and he said, "I could not tell you; he is all over the place"—I said, "Don't you know where he lives?"—he said, "No, I do not"—I said, "What is his description?" and he refused to give it to me—he simply said, when charged with stealing the typewriter and directory, "That is ill the same charge"—I did not have a conversation with him.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the City Police Court, Liverpool, on December 1st, 1892, in the name of Peter Graham. Ten previous convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 13th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. MUIR and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; M. SANDS Defended.
JOSEPH DANIEL (Inspector E.) On July 15th, about 12.30 a.m., the prisoner came to Gray's Inn Road police station while I was in charge—she was carrying an infant, and said, "A woman, whom I do not know, gave me this baby to hold and she has gone away"—I said, "I will write down what you wish to say and it may be produced in evidence against you—the baby looked weak and ill and had a red mark round its throat, although the clothing round its neck was quite loose and free—she made this statement, which I took down, and she signed it (Read): "Jenny Lang, no home, third-class prostitute, says: About 10 o'clock this morning I was walking along Gray's Inn Road towards Holborn, when opposite Clovelly Mansions a women whom I had never seen before, age 28, height 5 ft. 2 ins., white blouse, black skirt and black sailor hat, pale thin face, asked me to hold the baby while she got something to eat in an eating house close by. I took hold of the infant; the woman went in the shop. I waited outside until 12.30, but the woman did not come out again. I have not seen her since. I did not go to any lodgings last night. The night before I went to an hotel with a man; I do not know where. This has been read over to me and is correct"—I sent for Dr. Edwards, who examined the child, and I then told the prisoner that she had been found in possession of the child on whom murder had been attempted, but she refused to give any account on which enquiries could be made—I said she would be charged with attempting to murder it—she said, "It was just as I received it from the woman, but I did not do anything to it"—I afterwards said to her, "Would you like to be examined by a doctor, and you will understand the result of that examination may be important for your case"—she said that she would like to be examined and I then called in Dr. Edwards, but on his arrival the prisoner said, "I will tell you the truth; that is my baby. I had no home and no money, only one penny. I did not know what to do with it; I am very
sorry I told that story to you. I do not know the father; this is my second child. I slept at a casual ward"—she was not examined by the doctor.
Cross-examined. When she came in she did not look miserable and poor; she was well dressed and healthy—she was not agitated—she told me several times that she was a third-class prostitute—I know generally the result of the enquiries which have been made about her—she has been a domestic servant in various places in London for the last seven years, and she has received a good character as being sober, industrious and honest—I do not know anything to contradict that this was a case of seduction—the enquiries show that she was not a prostitute—she was brought up at Bow Street on July 17th—she was put in the matron's room, where she would wait until her turn came to be brought into Court—a constable received her from the matron and brought her into Court—the constable's name was Walker—I told him that if he could get any information from the prisoner as to where she had been living, to do so—at that time we had no information of her—I had requested the matron to do the same.
Re-examined. I find, in fact, that this was her third child.
ROBERT EDWARDS , M.R.C.P. I live at 23, Brunswick Square, and act as police surgeon—on July 15th I was called to Gray's Inn Road police station about 1.15, where I was shown a baby—I examined it and found a red mark or narrow weal round its neck which, in parts, was somewhat abraded—it was about 1/8th inch wide—a narrow string or band or tape would have caused it—it had been done during the last two or three hours, I should say—a considerable amount of tension must have been used, the effect of which would be asphyxia or choking—the other effects would be fracture of the bones of the larynx—I diagnosed that there was such a fracture—the child was in a very bad condition; it breathed with difficulty and seemed in a state of partial collapse—it was well nourished—I attribute the partial collapse to the effects on the larynx—I could not say if it would have fatal consequences or not—it was sent to the infirmary—I saw it fed, but it would not take the bottle, and I thought perhaps it had not been accustomed to one—it took a certain amount of food from a spoon; it made violent efforts to swallow, which I connected with the injury to the neck.
Cross-examined. The child was not particularly clean; it had been neglected for the last two or three days—I cannot say if it had been taken about from place to place—the injury might have been caused by a sudden jerk or by a cord fastened tightly round the neck or by continuous pressure—the jerk could be applied by some string—I do not think it could have been caused by a string not tied too tight and then suddenly pulled—I do not think that would be sufficient to cause the weal—it would be continuous pressure which would cause the weal, not a jerk—pressure would have to continue for fifteen or thirty minutes, and would have to be severe—I do not know anything about a jerk—the injury to the larynx might have been caused by a jerk—I do not think that a cord which was tied tightly round the neck would cause the
injury to the larynx when it was released—increased pressure would cause it, but I do not think pulling at a knot to untie it would do so—the marks were not the same all the way round—they had shown no signs of disappearing; they were of three or four hours' standing—it would depend on what substance was used as to how soon the child would be suffocated—the thicker the cord, the more dangerous.
Re-examined. I saw no sign of a knot on the weal.
CHATHERINE GIBBS . I am assistant matron at the Gray's Inn Road police station, and I was present when the prisoner was there on July 15th—I searched her and found in her pocket a penny and this piece of bootlace—it has not got a knot in it—I said I should want to take it away from her—she said, "No, do not take it away; I use it to tie my hair up with."
Cross-examined. She did not say what she had been doing for the last few days—I did not see the child; its nightgown had a hem round it for the tape to go through, but there was no tape there.
LOUSIA SCOLEY . I am a nurse at the receiving ward at the Holborn Union Workhouse—I produce a flannelette nightdress which was made in the ward—I saw this child in it when she came in on July 15th—at that time there was no tape in it; it was fastened with a nursery pin—nightdresses like this generally have tapes in them.
EMMA BARKER . I am matron at the Gray's Inn Road police station—I saw the prisoner on July 15th and took charge of the child—it had on a white cotton shirt and a flannelette nightgown—there was no string in the shirt or in the nightgown, and I had to pin it up with a safety pin—I carried the child to the workhouse and left it there.
THOMAS EVANS . I am medical officer at the Holborn Union Workforce, Shepherdess Walk, and I was there when the prisoner's child was born on June 22nd—it was apparently a full-time, healthy male child—it suffered from no complaint with the exception of a slight discharge from the note—the prisoner remained in the workhouse from June 22nd till July 10th—I cannot say how long before she went away I saw the child—there was no complaint made about its health, so I passed through the ward and paid no attention to it—I vaccinated it on June 30th; the vaccination marks afterwards appeared to be quite well and the discharge from the nose was gone—on July 15th it was brought to the workhouse at 3.15 p.m.—I did not recognise it—I examined it and found round its neck a red mark, apparently recently made—it was not quite complete at the back of the neck, an inch or an inch and a half having no mark—it had been inflicted two or three hours before—a cord tied round the neck would cause it, but the mark not going right round would indicate that something had been tied round and had been pulled from behind—the child was in a collapsed condition—we tried to feed it with milk, but it made no effort at swallowing—there was some inflammation round the navel and some redness round the buttocks—this bootlace might have caused the mark; I thought the child was in a dangerous condition—it lived until July 29th—it was under my observation and care during that time—it developed inflammation round the larynx, and also there were two small patches of inflammation
in the mouth—those disappeared after three or four days, but the larynx continued inflamed and the child showed signs of congestion in both lungs—it got weaker and died on the 29th—I made a post-mortem examination and found that both lungs showed signs of congestion of three or four days' standing—there was a clot on the right side of the heart and the larynx showed a crack—the cord round the neck would cause that if the pressure had been very great—the membrane lining the larynx was inflamed; the other organs were apparently healthy—the cause of death was failure of the heart, following the congestion of the lungs, which was brought on, I think, secondly to the injury to the throat.
Cross-examined. I think a tape such as you would have in the neck of a nightdress would cause the mark—I do not think the mark was consistent with the tape not having been tied too tight round the child's neck in the first place and its having been further jerked in trying to untie it—I do not think that would cause the fracture—my idea is that the injury to the larynx was caused by a jerk from behind—if a finger was inserted at the back of the neck under the tape, that would tend to make the pressure very great—if the string had been tied tightly round the throat the skin would have been injured very much, and there was no evidence of that—pulling at a knot would give a distinct jerk—at the post-mortem examination the baby was heavier than it was when it—left my care—apart from the shock, I found nothing the matter with it—it would be carefully attended to in the workhouse—when it came in the second time it did not look as if it had been exposed to bad weather—I do not think the injury to the lungs could have been caused by the treatment it had received, as I saw no signs of it when it first came in—this kind of congestion takes a few days to show—I think it is very improbable that the congestion came from anything else than the injury to the larynx—I do not think the child was in as good condition when it came back as it was when it left.
By the COUT. Apart from the injury to the neck, I, think it was in as good condition, except for the marks on the navel and buttocks.
Re-examined. Assuming that the congestion of the lungs did not arise from the injury to the neck, that injury would accelerate the congestion—if the thing which was round the neck had been knotted I should have found a mark of a knot on the delicate flesh of the child—there was no mark of a knot.
CHARLES WALKER (234 E.) On July 17th I saw the prisoner at Bow Street Police Court—I had been directed to make enquiries of her—I asked her where she had been living and if she knew anybody about London, as I wanted to see if I could find out her whereabouts or anybody who knew her—I did not ask her any other question—she told me she had been living at 161, East Street Buildings, and that she knew a Mr. Deadman, a motor car driver—we were then in the Police Court passage—she started to make a statement and I told her it would be taken down and used in evidence against or for her—she had then told me about Deadman.
[MR. SANDS submitted that the statement was not admissible. The COURT considered that the evidence was admissible, but gave MR. SANDS permission cross-examine upon it.]
Cross-examined. My duty was to fetch her from the matron's room to the Court and to ask her questions as to where she came from—after answering the questions she made the statement at once—there were several policemen in the Court, but they were not taking much notice—she did not ask me about her baby; she had asked about it before, but not in my presence.
[MR. SANDS again submitted that the evidence was not admissible and quoted Reg. v. Gavin, 15 Cox, page 657; Reg. v. Male, 17 Cox, page 689; and Reg. v. Histed, 19 Cox, pages 16 and 17. The COURT ruled that the evidence was admissible.]
By MR. MUIR. The prisoner said, "I am not a prostitute, the same as I have told them, nor did I try to strangle the child with that shoe lace, as they want to make out, but I did it with a thin piece of cord run through the top of the gown, then I pulled it tight. I could not stand to see it die, so I cut the cord again."
By MR. SANDS. She was not represented before the Magistrate—my note was made five or ten minutes after she made the statement—she did not first ask me how the baby was, and I did not say it was just the same; I did not say to her, "What made you tie the string round the neck?" and it was not then that she said, "I tied it round the neck and pulled it tight, and then I was frightened and tried to break the string"—the words I have in my book are right—I did not say to her, "You could not stay and see it done"—I gave my statement to the inspector as soon as the Court was finished—I did not give evidence until the next hearing.
GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 13th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
MR. PURCELL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GANZ Prosecuted; M. BURNIE Defended.
ALFRED GARDNER . I am a bricklayer's labourer, of 40, Homebrook Street, Homerton—on September 2nd, about 3.50 p.m., I was outside a pawnshop in High Street, Homerton—as I was going into the shop I saw two men in the road and I stopped to see what was the matter—I saw the prisoner strike the deceased with his right fist on the left side of his
head and knock him into the roadway—I rushed across to pick him up—I asked for assistance to set him on the pavement—I washed his mouth out and brought him to—I then went to get my parcel, leaving him with two other men—I identified the body at the mortuary.
Cross-examined. I cannot say what had been going on before I saw the two men in the road—I came up as the prisoner was striking the deceased.
Re-examined. I did not see the deceased strike the prisoner.
HENRY STOKES . I am a pawnbroker's assistant at 17, High Street; Homerton—on Saturday, September 2nd, about 4 p.m., I was inside my shop looking through the window—I heard the prisoner call out from my side of the road, "Hullo, you bastard"—he was just outside my shop and I could see him well—he called that out to the deceased, who was on the other side of the road—with that he went across and struck him in the mouth, smashing his pipe—the deceased walked round him and got in the middle of the road to get away from him—the prisoner picked up a piece of the pipe and threw it at him, saying, "Go away" or "Go home," I do not know which—after that he went and hit him on the jaw—the deceased went down in the middle of the road, cracking his head—the prisoner walked off with a friend.
Cross-examined. My attention was attracted by the prisoner calling out—I had not seen what had taken place previously—what I saw take place lasted about three minutes.
ELIZABETH WILLIAMS . I live at 11, Marian Street, Homerton—on September 2nd I was standing in High Street, Homerton, when I saw the prisoner and the deceased standing in the road talking together—I was about three to four yards from them—I did not hear what they said—I law the prisoner hit the deceased with a second blow—the deceased fell in the road when he was picked up—the prisoner walked away—he did not help to pick him up.
Cross-examined. I was talking to a lady at the time—I did not hear any conversation between the two men.
CHALES WILLIAM FRIEND . I am a porter, of 11, Marian Street, Homerton—on September 2nd, about 3.50, I heard screams in High Street and went and saw the deceased sitting on the pavement near a beer-shop—two men were bathing his head—I and another man took him to 76, Digby Road—he could not walk by himself—I left him at his house.
GEORGE CARTWRIGHT . I live at 76, Digby Road, Homerton—the deceased was my lodger—he had been with me about three weeks—I remember his going to work on September 2nd—he was healthy and sober—he was brought home that afternoon about 4 o'clock—he was intoxicated—he made no complaint—I took him upstairs and put him to bed, where I left him—the next morning about 9.45 I knocked at his door—I got no answer—I then went in and found him lying on the bed on his stomach—he was dead and cold—I fetched the police.
Cross-examined. He went to work at 6 that morning—he left off work as a rule on Saturdays at 12 o'clock—he would have left work about
three hours when he was brought home—it was his habit to drink on Saturdays, Sundays, and Mondays.
JAMES HENY TURTLE . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police, and practice at 11, Gascoyne Road, South Hackney—about 10.30 a.m. on September 3rd I was called to 76. Digby Road, Homerton—I there saw the deceased lying on the bed on his chest with his head turned slightly to the right; he was clothed in his shirt only; rigor mortis was well established by then—I saw no external marks—I made a post-mortem examination and then examined the body for external injury; I was unable to find any mark on the skin, but two inches behind the right ear the scalp felt thickened, and beneath the scalp on both sides of the pericranium I found a diffusion of blood; inside the skull there was a fracture of the bone, about two inches long, and there was a large clot of recent blood which had broken down the brain substance—death was due to the fractured skull, which was caused either by a fall on some hard substance or a severe blow—the position of the fracture was rather peculiar, and it is uncommon to find it where it was, simply by falling backwards.
Cross-examined. I should say from the appearance of the abdominal organs there had been habitual drinking.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was about to go into a public-house when the deceased rolled against him; that he (the prisoner) asked him what he was doing, when the deceased struck him on the nose; that he hit him back, when he fell; and that he (the prisoner) walked away to save further bother.
Evidence for the Defence.
ALBERT EDWARD NORTH . I am a labourer, of 5, Framley Place, High Street, Homerton—I have known the prisoner for about twelve months—I did not know the deceased—on Saturday, September 2nd, I met the prisoner in the High Street between 3.30 and 4—he was sober, but had had some drink—as we were going into a beershop the deceased came out and rolled up against the prisoner, who asked him where he was going to—the deceased turned round and made use of a filthy expression and then struck the prisoner on the nose—the prisoner returned the blow—the deceased fell backwards into the road—I said to the prisoner, "Come away, you don't want to have any bother here"—with that we walked away.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was just off the pavement and on the wood pavement when he returned the blow—he struck at him twice, but only hit him once.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, September 13th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Three years' penal servitude. —And
(647.) JOHN GIBBS (36) and SIDNEY REEVES (36) to having feloniously broken into the shop of Alexander Lazarus, and stealing 130 watches, 30 rings, and 10 chains, his property, having been convicted of felony, Gibbs at Clerkenwell, on August 21st,. 1901, in the name of Robert Williams, and Reeves at this Court, on April, 22nd, 1905, in the name of Arthur Wright. GIBBS, against whom nine other convictions were proved, as well as four summary convictions— Three years' penal servitude. REEVES, against whom five other convictions were proved— Twenty months' hard labour.
FIFTH COURT.—Wednesday, September 13th, 1905.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. LYSONS Prosecuted.
MARY ANN SMITH . I went through the ceremony of marriage with the prisoner on June 12th last—I asked him last February whether he was married and he said, "I am like you"—I am a soldier's widow—I believed him to be a widower; he said his wife was dead—his first wife was dead and I did not think anything about his having a second, wife—a woman giving the name of Mrs. Nunny called on me and I took her to the bedroom to see the prisoner, who was not well that morning—he looked very bad when his first wife was there—he did not deny she was his wife—he admitted it, I think—he said, "Oh, Mil!" or "Oh, Amelia!"
MARY ANN LONG . I am single, and live at 16, The Parade, Chingford—my sister, Amelia Long, was married on October 22nd, 1900, to the prisoner at a registry office—I was the witness—in the certificate he is described as forty-two years of age, widower, and she as twenty-seven, spinster—she is alive now—I think it was two years ago this August that he left her.
Gross-examined by the prisoner. I know nothing against you as to the way you treated her—you always lived happily together—I always had entrance to the house whenever I came, which was rather often.
JOSEPH THOMPSON (Detective-Sergeant X.) I produce two marriage certificates—I arrested the prisoner, told him the charge and explained the dates, and so on—he said, "It is quite true"—when charged at the station he said, "That is quite right. I shall have to suffer for it."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I wrote several letters to my wife, and, not hearing from her, thought she was dead; I admitted I did not make proper enquiries."
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he could only say the same as he had before the Magistrate.
GUILTY . He received a good character. Six months in the Second Division.
MR. KYFFIN Prosecuted.
JAMES DUNNING (Detective, City). On August 11th, at 11.45, I was in Chatham Place, just over Blackfriars Bridge, with Detective Wagstaff—a large crowd of people collected, as it was the day of the visit of the French naval officers to the Guildhall—I saw the two prisoners in the crowd—I saw Kearns place his hands in the folds of ladies' dresses, his movements being covered by Hill—I and Wagstaff followed them along the Embankment on the river side—the prisoners made similar attempts, Kearns placing his hands in the folds of ladies' dresses, and Hill covering him—at Carmelite Street they forced their way through the crowd, and Kearns put his hand in the pockets of two young ladies, and felt their dresses, Hill covering him—then Kearns placed himself in front of an old gentleman wearing a gold watch chain exposed—Hill, standing on his left, placed his left hand under his right arm and got hold of his chain; the old gentleman at that moment moved away, and the prisoners failed—Hill then placed himself in front of the prosecutor, Mr. Ebden, who came there with his hands in his pockets and his watch chain exposed—Kearns placed himself immediately in front of the prosecutor and Hill pushed himself up close on the left-hand side, and with his left hand under his right arm he withdrew the gentleman's watch, switched it off the swivel, and left the chain hanging—the prisoners were going off, but saw us getting off some railings where we had been keeping observation, and tried to back through the crowd, but I seized one and Wagstaff the other—the watch was dropped in the crowd, or passed away; it was not recovered—no watch was on them—I was not in uniform—I arrested Kearns and told him I was a police officer and he would be charged with stealing a gentleman's watch, and picking pockets along Chatham Place—Kearns replied, "I have not been picking pockets"—Hill replied, "You won't find it on me"—we lost sight of the prosecutor, but he followed to the station and reported the loss of the watch; he was the man we had seen in the crowd—Kearns was searched at the station and the rim of a watch was found on him; it is nothing of great importance; it is not gold—I saw Kearns the night previous and had him under observation at a shop in Fleet Street, where they were playing games of chance—he was then trying to pick pockets, but was unsuccessful.
Cross-examined by Kearns. We use our discretion whether we arrest for attempting to pick pockets—they were old ladies principally and they had their pockets at the back; younger ladies have a side pocket—I had no idea you had been previously arrested till after this.
By the COURT. I saw Hill take the watch and switch it off the swivel; it is done with one hand, and does not take a second; that is the usual
practice—Kearns was standing immediately in front of the gentleman—it was a great crowd, and we were on some railings where a number of other people had assembled—directly Hill moved off he saw us getting down and he knew my mate.
FREDERICK WAGSTAFF (Detective, City). On August 11th I was with Dunning at Chatham Place about 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoners behaving suspiciously in the crowd which was waiting there to see the French sailors go by—I saw Reams going behind ladies and feeling in the folds of their dresses and tapping their pockets—we followed them on the south side of the Embankment; they stopped behind ladies, mostly old ladies, and repeated their previous conduct—when they got to Carmelite Street they forced their way through the people, and went to the back of two young ladies, and Kearns placed his hand in the folds of their skirts, and Hill, standing behind, covered his movements—an old gentleman with a gold watch chain was standing there—Kearns pushed himself in front to cover the chain and Hill stood at his side and placed his hand across his waistcoat—just then something disturbed the old gentleman, and he moved away—then the prosecutor came down Carmelite Street, and stood there with his hands in his pockets—at that particular moment the sailors were coming by—Kearns looked down at the prosecutor's chain, pushed himself in front, half way, looking at the sailors, apparently, and Hill got on his left-hand side, putting one hand on Kearns' shoulder and the other across to the prosecutor's waistcoat—just then the crowd parted and I distinctly saw the chain hanging down—I cannot say exactly that I saw the watch in Hill's hand, but he drew his hand away and put it in his left-hand jacket pocket—he turned away; we were on some railings almost behind and he looked at me and saw me getting down, and keeping his eye on me he backed into the crowd, keeping his hand in his pocket, and pushed himself further into the crowd—I caught hold of his hand and arm and put my hand into his pocket, but he had got rid of the watch—I told him I was a police officer and should take him into custody for stealing a gentleman's watch—he said, "You won't find it on me"—we looked for the prosecutor, but lost sight of him—he followed us to the station.
Cross-examined by Hill. I said, "Take your hands out of your pockets," and you did—directly I caught hold of you I felt in your pocket for the witch and found I was too late.
HENRY EBDEN . I am a clerk, and live at 98, Southampton Street, Camberwell—I came out of Carmelite Street into the crowd on August 11th—when I left the crowd I saw my watch chain hanging and my watch was missing—I went to the police station and reported my loss and found the prisoners were in custody—my watch was worth about £5—this is the chain I was wearing—the swivel was not broken.
Cross-examined by Hill. I did not see you.
Kearns, in his defence on oath, said that he was perfectly innocent.
Hill, in his defence on oath, said that he was innocent; that he was watching the sailors come by from the back of the crowd, and had both his hands in his pockets.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September 14th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
(For cases tried this day see Essex and Surrey Cases.)
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September 14th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
651. LEONARD BROWN GRIFFIN (37) PLAEDED GUILTY to maliciously and feloniously sending to and causing to be received by, William John Mann, upon July 17th last, a letter threatening to kill and murder him; also to unlawfully and maliciously writing and publishing a false, scandalous, malicious and defamatory libel of and concerning Horace Mann upon April 14th. Discharged on his own recognisances in £500.
M. HINDE Prosecuted.
GEORGE ANDREWS (Police Inspector B). On September 1st, at 6.10p.m., I was called to 73, Blantyre Street, Chelsea—I found some people in the parlour putting out a fire which was there—I did not go in then, but spoke to the prisoner, who stood amongst the people outside the house—I was there a few minutes after the fire broke out—I then entered the house—I asked the prisoner if he had any matches upon him—he produced a box with one match in it—subsequently I went into the room where the fire was and the prisoner came in and in his presence Mrs. Fluskey said, "I saw that gentleman," pointing to the prisoner, "enter by the open street door and walk out not a minute after; I then saw flames come out of the window; he stood the other side of the road, looked at the house, and then walked towards the World's End"—I said to the prisoner, "What do you say to that?"—he said, "I deny what she says; I have not been in the house"—I then examined the premises—the window curtains were burnt, the bedding was burnt, the mattress was turned over by somebody and scattered over the floor—there were no means of ignition whatever in the room, no gas jet, no matches, nothing that would account for the fire; there was a small paraffin lamp that had not been lighted—the sides of the window frames were charred, the curtains burnt and a pane of glass broken—the prisoner was arrested—he was drunk—in reply to the charge he said, "Very good"—I then searched him and I found some loose matches upon him, cigarette papers and tobacco.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When I first saw you, you were standing amongst the people outside—I did not see that you had a baby in your arms—when the inspector was writing out the charge I said you were drunk, but he said nothing; your condition had improved a little bit.
I was at home in the basement—I heard a cry of "Fire"—I went up to see what it was and helped to put it out—it was in the parlour—the curtains were burnt and some bedding and other articles, the window frames charred and the glass broken in the window—my wife being an invalid, we left the street door ajar and anyone could get in—there were about six people in the house at the time—the prisoners wife was one of them—she came round to have a bit of food with us—the prisoner had not been invited to accompany her.
Cross-examined. Your wife was not invited; I asked her to have a bit of food when she came in—at the station I said I did not believe you had done it—I only charged you on the evidence I heard from the witnesses—I have been on friendly terms with you and have never forbidden you to enter the house.
By the COURT. Whatever straw there was in the room we ourselves had booked about.
ELIZA FLUSKEY . I live at 71, Blantyre Street, Chelsea, which is next door to 73—about 6 p.m. on September 1st I was standing on my steps—I saw the prisoner before the fire occurred, standing opposite the house—he crossed the road and walked into No. 73—I saw him come out again in a very few minutes—he walked to the corner and watched the house and from there walked to the World's End—when he came away I saw the smoke and flames from the window as I stood on the steps—he came back to help put the fire out—I saw him then in the room—I communicated with the police.
Cross-examined. There was a woman with me on the steps—I told her you were Mr. Edney's son-in-law—that was when you came out of the house, when you set the place on fire—there was nothing unusual in your entering the house—I have seen you there before, but not often—you have never been in my company.
ANNIE DREWITT . I live at 36, Seaton Street, Chelsea—on September 1st, about 6 p.m., I was with Mrs. Fluskey on her doorstep—I saw the prisoner come out of 73—Mrs. Fluskey said he was her landlord's son-in-law—he walked away towards the World's End—I was one of those who called out "Fire"—I did not see the prisoner go into the house.
CHARLES ALEXANDER . I am a fireman—on September 1st I was walking home when I saw the fire—I went to 73 and assisted to put the flames out—I saw some straw there which was from the mattress that was used to put the fire out.
JOSEPH GEORGE . I live at 71, Blantyre Street, Chelsea—about 6 p.m. on September 1st I heard a cry of "Fire" and went to 73—someone was there helping to put the fire out—I did not see the prisoner till later.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he did not know how the fire originated, and that he went in to extinguish the flames.
Evidence for the Defend.
name and address as a witness—I did not see you enter the house either before the fire or after—the first time I saw you was when you were under arrest at the station—I was standing outside the house when the fire was first observed—I had not seen the prisoner up to the time that I went into the house to help to put the fire out.
MRS. WHEELER. I am the prisoner's wife—I was not invited to the house to dinner; I did not know I was going to have any when I went there—I went out without my husband knowing it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PICKERING Prosecuted; MR. SYDENHAM-JONES Defended.
FRED CROSBY . I am a lance-corporal in the Army Service Corps, stationed at Millbank barracks—on August 10th, about 1.15 a.m., I was on picket duty—I was standing in the guard room—the prisoner's wife came to me—she said something to me, in consequence of which I went to the prisoner's quarters—the prisoner was there—he had a, carbine in his hand—he said to me, "Clear away from me or I'll fire"—he then presented the carbine at me—as I stepped aside he fired—I then stepped to the square to call for an escort and saw Mrs. Cooper fall to the ground—I went to her assistance—the prisoner followed me, re-loading the carbine—when I reached her I assisted her to rise—the prisoner was behind me and said, "What are you doing here?"—I said, "Stop your nonsense; she has fainted"—the prisoner then threw the carbine on the square, saying, "Do as you like with it; it is loaded"—he ran to the back gate as I picked up the carbine—after raising Mrs. Cooper I went and informed the police—I extracted an unexpended cartridge from the carbine—I then went to the prisoner's quarters and found a fired cartridge case which I handed with the unexpended cartridge to the sergeant-major—I saw where the bullet had struck—it was about fourteen inches above and in a line with my head.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner well by sight—he is a sergeant in the Army Service Corps—I do not know that he has been a sergeant for five years or that he has been twelve years in the Service—I do not personally know that he is a qualified instructor of musketry—I have heard that he had a party of friends the previous evening to this occurrence—I did not hear that they were under the influence of drink—this affair took place really in a few seconds—I approached to within three yards of him or perhaps four—I do not believe that he had any intention to injure me, for he does not know me.
Re-examined. I say the prisoner was not under the influence of drink at the time—I say he had no motive in murdering me—I do not mean by that that he did not intend to hit me.
ARTHUR CORY (38 W.R.) At 1.30 a.m. on August 10th I was at Vaux-hall Cross, about three-quarters of a mile from the barracks—the prisoner came to me and said, "I want to give myself up; I have murdered my
wife by shooting her with a carbine at Millbank barracks. I came in and found another sergeant in my quarters with her and I fired at her. I am to be tried to-day by court-martial for embezzlement, bat I have paid the money and they are going to try me for being two days absent without leave"—I took him to Rochester Row police station, where he was charged—he made no reply.
[MR. JONES stated that the prisoner regretted that he should have thrown any aspersion on his good and dutiful wife.]
Cross-examined. He was charged with shooting at the corporal with intent—the corporal made a charge—he came to the police station at the same time—we passed the barracks on the way to the station.
The COURT here considered that there was no evidence to support the indictment and directed the Jury to find a verdict of
NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
MR. METHVEN Prosecuted; MR. PETER GRAIN appeared for Frederick Ernest Allen and MR. FITCH for Maud Allen.
WALTER CANDLER . I am barman at the Friend-at-Hand public-house, Russell Square—I know the prisoners as customers—on Monday, August 7th, about 11 p.m., the deceased was in the saloon bar—the prisoners were not there then—they came in about 11.25 together—the deceased was quite sober at that time; also the prisoners—the deceased said something—I did not hear what the remarks were, but he was sitting on a table and the accused walked up to him—the deceased then hit Frederick Allen on the nose, making it bleed—I left the bar and then my master came round—we parted them—the female prisoner was trying to get Frederick Allen away—my master said, "If you want to fight you must go out"—there was an argument as to who should go out first—the prisoners went out and the deceased followed them immediately—I did not see what happened outside.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I did not see Frederick Allen return any blow in the house—I saw him outside with his head bent down avoiding blows that the deceased was making at him, but I did not see Frederick strike any blows.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. Except that the woman tried to get Frederick Allen away, she took no part in the matter
Re-examined. I was not outside the public-house when they were turned out—when I said just now "outside" I mean in the saloon bar; I never saw anything take place outside.
to the deceased and the male prisoner fighting—I went and parted them and told them they were not to do it there—they said they would not, they would go out of my house immediately, which they did—I heard a scream outside and I walked to the door and back again—I saw nothing more—there was a crowd outside.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I did not see the blow struck by the deceased at Frederick; I was sleeping in my office—when I came out I saw blood on the male prisoner's nose.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. I heard some female scream outside.
EBENEZER GEORGE BOURNE . I live at 14.3, Wightman Road, Hornsey, and am a clerk—I was in the Friend-at-Hand on August 7th, and saw the disturbance there between the prisoners and the deceased—there was quarrelling and the male prisoner said he did not want to have anything to do with his brother, and he did not want him to have anything to say to him—the male prisoner advanced to the deceased and blows were struck—I got out of the way—the deceased was using his arms and fists, and the male prisoner may have been doing the same, but at the same time he was using his legs and feet—I heard the deceased say, "I will teach you to kick me," or words to that effect—I could see the male prisoner using his legs and feet as if he were kicking—that was inside—I did not see what occurred outside.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I think the barman who has given evidence was serving in the bar at the time; I cannot say for certain—I did not hear him give his evidence at the Police Court—I say I did not see anything definite in the way of blows, I only saw the legs moving as if the male prisoner were kicking, but I did not see any kick landed.
ROBERT DYCE SCOTT . I am an author, living at 68, Braeburn Avenue, Clapham—on August 7th I was in this public-house—I saw the deceased and the two prisoners there—there were several remarks that passed between them—the deceased called his brother a bastard repeatedly and then he (the prisoner) squared up to him—the brother nearly winded the prisoner, and the prisoner lifted his foot repeatedly—the deceased made the male prisoner's nose bleed and also his neck—they were turned out of the house—a minute or two after I heard a female voice cry out, "Murder! murder! murder!"—I went outside—I saw the deceased and the two prisoners there—the female was pulling Frederick away—his foot was lifted and the deceased fell like a log as the result of a kick from the male prisoner—I have no doubt of that.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. Frederick Allen broke away from the female, and as he swung round his foot went up.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. The part the female prisoner took was to try and separate the two.
Re-examined. Anything that was like a kick was a kick undoubtedly.
JAMES HOLDEN . I am a boarding-house keeper at 33, Bernard Street—I was in the public-house on August 7th and saw the disturbance between the deceased and the prisoners—I saw them aiming blows at each other—the woman was standing there doing nothing—I only saw blows in the bar—they went out and a few minutes after I heard a female voice scream—
I went out and saw the deceased and the woman holding him at arms' length with the male prisoner behind the female—I saw the male prisoner make two kicks when the deceased fell—I went to pick him up, when a policeman arrived.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I saw no blow in the shape of a kick touch the deceased.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. I said before the Magistrate that when I went out the deceased was moving forward and the prisoners backwards—that is quite correct—it was as if they were trying to get away.
WALTER COOK (351 E.) On August 7th, about 11.30 p.m., I was on duty in Portman Street—I saw a crowd outside the public-house in question—I went there and saw the deceased man on the footway—the prisoners were there in the crowd—they could hear what was said—I asked the deceased what was the matter—he said, "The female here has kicked me in the testicles"—I said to the woman, "You heard what he said?"—she said, "Yes, I kicked him because he was quarrelling with my friend"—I took her to the station—the deceased was taken to the hospital—she was afterwards charged with the assault.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I know that the male prisoner had been to the police station to ask for protection against the deceased—I do not know that the woman had also been to the police station for the same purpose.
Cross-examined by MR. FIRCH. The woman did not say, "I admit I hit him"—I have not made a mistake about it—I heard it stated by a witness at the inquest that the deceased had said it was not the woman who did it.
FREDERICK THOMAS BOWERBANK . I am House Surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn Road—Walter James Allen was admitted there on August 1st—he was in a semi-collapsed state—he was conscious when spoken to—I examined him—there was no evidence of external injury, no bruising—I performed an operation on him next day to see what had occurred in the abdomen—I found the bladder was ruptured 2 1/2 inches—we sewed it up—he died the same evening—death was the result of the shock due to the rupture of the bladder—his condition was consistent with injuries received by blows or kicks in the region of the abdomen—it might also have been caused by a fall on some projecting surface.
Cross-examined by M. GRAIN. A kick in the testicles would not account for the rupture of the bladder, nor a blow from the fist in the testicles—it would have to be a blow somewhere above the pelvis—it is difficult for anybody to kick that part standing in an upright position—when the deceased was admitted to the hospital he was suffering from alcoholism—his organs were all healthy.
By the COURT. The tear in the bladder was transverse—it would have to be partially full to cause a rupture in such a position—I cannot draw any conclusion from that as to the sort of blow that would cause such a tear—if he had fallen on a corner of a chair it might possibly have caused a rupture, but such a fall would not be so severe—he would not have so far
to fall—if a blow or kick was administered in the lower part of the abdomen it is not likely that any pain would be felt in the testicles—as a matter of fact, the distance between the testicles and the lower part of the abdomen is only a matter of inches.
ALBERT PEDDER (Police Sergeant E.) I arrested the female prisoner on the evening of August 8th—I said to her, "Maudie, Wallie is dead"—she said, "Oh, dear"—I said, "You will be taken to Hunter Street police station and charged with kicking him and causing his death"—she said, "I did not kick him; I hit him in self defence"—when charged she said there was no kick at all.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I have known both the men and the woman as well—the deceased was not a man of good character—the female prisoner had been living with him—she left him and went to live with his brother, the male prisoner—the deceased used to threaten her—he had been living on her prostitution—so far as I know, the male prisoner has been an inoffensive, quiet young man of good character, hard-working and helping his mother.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. After the female left the deceased he continued to sponge upon her—the male prisoner took her off the streets.
HENRY GARRARD (Police Constable E.) I arrested the male prisoner—I told him I was a police officer and should arrest him for being concerned with Maud Allen in causing the death of his brother—he said, "My brother struck me first inside the saloon bar and then we had a stand-up fight. Maud struck him with her fist and he fell down on his back"—I took him to the police station and put down what he said and read it to him—he replied, 'That is not quite correct Me and the missus went into the house to have a drink; my brother was in there and he said, 'I will come and rout your place and upset you to-morrow morning.' I said, 'I don't wish you to speak to me and I don't wish to speak to you.' He then struck me in the face, forcing my nose to bleed. I then struck him back. Read pulled him back. He came back and said, 'If he is not going out I will not.' Read said to me, 'Drink up and go.' I said, 'I will.' Me and the missus went out. Reed held him back so that he could not come back; as soon as we got into the street he struck me on the side of the jaw and Maud on her breast. Maud then struck him back and punched him in his privates; me and the missus then went up to the constable"—that statement was not made in the presence of the female prisoner.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. The male prisoner has been given an excellent character by his employer.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. I have heard that the female prisoner made an application to Hunter Street police station for protection.
Cross-examined by MR. FITCH. I do not know that the two prisoners intend to get married.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, September 14th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
656. ERNEST PASK (20) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Walter Daniels £3 10s. and from Thomas Edgar Cook and Arthur Smith a shirt, a tie and other goods, with intent to defraud. Judgment respited. —
(657.) GUSTAV LORIER (24) to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £1, with intent to defraud; also to stealing a piece of paper, an envelope and an order for £1, the property of Felix Banando. To enter into recognisances — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(658.) RENE SOLO (26) to forging and uttering orders for the payment of £70 10s. and £70 10s.; also to stealing two blank cheque forms, the goods of Lawrence Grant, and two blank cheque forms, the property of Malcolm Barrington; also to obtaining by false pretences from Angelo Villa £3 10s., and from Louis Allard £1, with intent to defraud.— Nine months' hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(660.) HENRY FRANCIS HAMILTON to stealing fifteen engravings, the property of the Mendoza Gallery, Limited, having been convicted of obtaining goods by false pretences at Bournemouth in January, 1903, in the name of Harry Hamilton.—Three other convictions were proved against him. Three years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] —And
(661.) WILLIAM ANDERSON (31) to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of certain goods, the property of Albert Jones, with intent to defraud, and to receiving those goods by means of a forged instrument; also to stealing a watch and other jewellery, the property of Ethel Lindo Regan in her dwelling house. (See page 1495.) [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
JAMES WILLIAM THOMSPSON . I live at 29, Clarence Road, Canning Town, and am a messenger—previous to July 20th this year I lived at 149, Percy Road, Canning Town, with my wife, who is the female prisoner—I was married to her in December, 1898—there are two children of the marriage a boy five and a half years old, and a girl seventeen months—in July 1 left London to go to Oxford on business—I knew of it three months before—I have to attend the officers of the Thames Conservancy on their inspection of the river—I left a list of the different places I would have to visit on the dressing table in the bedroom and it remained there some weeks before I went on July 20th—I made Langham's acquaintance in November, 1903—by my invitation he visited my house—he says he is an electrician—he spent Christmas of 1893 with me as a friend, and he visited us from time to time—in November, 1904, I forbid him the house, because I found that he was not the company I ought to associate with—I could see he was too familiar with my wife, and I thought the sooner I got rid of his acquaintance the better—I did not then suspect
any improper intimacy between them—I told my wife that he was no friend of mine, and, therefore, he was no friend of hers—we had lived very happily until he came across our path—on January 3rd, 1905, I saw them by accident near Canning Town station—she was going down a side turning with him—I asked her what it meant—he said to me, "Yes, you can see, and there is no law in this land to stop me walking with your wife"—I said to her, "You come on home, and I will speak to you when I get home"—when I got home I asked her the meaning of it—she told me she met him casually, and asked me to forgive her—I said, "I do not think I can believe you"—she said, "You can, and you can trust me," and I forgave her—she promised me and her mother she would never speak to him again—on July 20th when I went away I had no reason to believe that promise had not been kept—her mother lived near—my wife and I were on good terms—she brought me up a cup of tea, and packed my bag, and kissed me before I went away in the morning, and got my breakfast—I returned home on the 22nd in the ordinary way, arriving from 8 to 8.30—I did not find anybody in the house—I got in with my key, and, looking round, I saw that the linen was gone, as well as her clothes, the two children's chairs, a mail cart, some presents I had brought home for the children, the children's bath, a saucepan, and one or two other small items—these things were given for the home, therefore I take them to be my property—some were given by her mother, and some I bought myself—I got the mail cart with my own money—the linen supplied at the time of the marriage had worn out and we bought fresh with my money; we replaced it from time to time—she brought some linen to the home when she was married—my wages were 34s. 6d. a week—I found this letter on a bracket over the table in the kitchen in her writing (Read): "You will see by this when you read it that I have left here; you never want me or my company if you can get anybody else. I am rather above being only a convenience. I think I am worth a little more. You have told me to go a good many times if I did not like things as they were, so I am taking you at your word. You need not trouble to look for me at all, or ever think of me; I am as if I were dead to you. That is all I have to say, except take care of the boy. If you do not, may God deal with you as you deserve. I would not leave him if I could help it; I shall be sure to look after Ethel all right"—I had never told her to go—I had never quarrelled with her all the while I was married—both before and after the introduction of Langham I used to speak to her for her good—if I thought she was going wrong I endeavoured to check her—she would not listen—"Mind your own business": that is the kind of answer I would get—on July 22nd, when I found a quantity of property had gone, I put the matter into the hands of the police, who discovered she was at 36, Meeson Road, and on August 2nd I went there with Sergeant Stephens, where I saw her and my things mentioned in List B (Produced); the linen is similar to mine, but I cannot swear to it—some of these articles were presents to the baby—this silk scarf I gave to the boy—I have him in my charge—this loose lace ruffle I remember buying for her—the baby's
chair was a present from her mother—the glass money box I got, and the jug—the bag of sugar was given me for my wife, and I carried it home, but in the first place it had been given to her—there were 30 lbs. of sugar to make jam of—I went to a friend's house, and he said, "I have got a tin of sugar," and I carried it home—she took it away—we did not touch it—the price is about 2d. a lb.—the large saucepan was a Christmas box from her mother—I identify the articles produced, including the baby's bath—I have the receipt for the mail cart—the sugar was given us about July 17th or 18th by Mr. Ralph—these things were found at 36, Meeson Road.
Cross-examined. Mr. Ralph said, "Mr. Thompson, I have got a tin of sugar for you"—it was unopened—I know now it was promised to my wife; it was not f given to her—when it was found at her lodgings I left it in her possession—I at first charged her with stealing it, but not since I knew it was hers; that was a misunderstanding—I never had quarrels with my wife about this man beyond what I have mentioned—I never told her that if she wanted him she had better go to him, nor anything of that kind—when I saw them together I did not tell them that the best thing they could do was to give me a chance to get a divorce—she earned money on her sewing machine occasionally by doing work for a friend—I cannot say if it was paid far out of a loan, or whether I paid the loan off—my mother-in-law went security for a loan, but the loan was some time after—I did have a loan, but for what I cannot say—I paid it off—she did not pay for it out of her own earnings, nor any part of it—the two babys' chairs were given by my mother-in-law—I paid for the baby's bath—the saucepan was given by my mother-in-law as a Christmas present—the lace ruffle I gave her to take her out in—she said it was mine, therefore the police took it—I did not charge her with stealing it—I claimed all her clothes—I bought them to accompany me in, and not anyone else—I bought the bag—I do not think I claimed a pair of lace curtains—only an old pair was left in my house.
[At the request of Counsel the COURT consented to state a case, if necessary, upon any question arising under the Married Woman's Property Act.]
Re-examined. I received these letters (Produced) from my wife two or three weeks before she left me—these were ordinary letters about the children and other family matters, and were couched in affectionate term—we were upon good terms at that time, as far as I can judge.
THOMAS CHARLES SAMPSON . I am a greengrocer, of 2, Baron Road, Canning Town—on Friday, July 14th, Langham came and asked me to deliver goods from 149, Percy Road, to the Dale Road—I agreed, and on July 21st I sent Readey with a horse and cart to remove the goods—he returned with the cart containing articles of furniture—I saw the lady that morning—my man and I transferred the articles from the cart into a van, because the cart was not large enough—a mail cart and two chairs were in the cart—I subsequently identified them as articles removed from Percy Road—having put the articles on the van, I went with Reading to 108, Dale Road, and removed some furniture from there—Langham was there—after removing some things from Dale Road we went to
36, Meeson Road—Langham accompanied me and my man—he helped to unload—he carried things upstairs to the top floor—I saw a sitting room, a kitchen, and a bedroom—Langham paid me—he had been living in a furnished room—that was his own furniture.
CHARLES READEY . I live at 4, Baring Road, Canning Town—I am a potman—I was engaged by Mr. Sampson to help him to remove goods on July 21st—I first went under my orders to 149, Percy Road—Mrs. Thompson pointed out the articles I was to take—I took nothing but what she pointed out—among the articles were a mail cart, and a high and low chair—I removed them from Percy Road to Sampson's, and then we both went to deliver the goods.
ANN LOFT . I am married, and live at 29, Clarence Road, Canning Town—my husband is here—the female prisoner is my daughter—my husband is a waterman, and master of a small boat—I have, seen the articles claimed as his by my daughter's husband, and which were moved from Percy Road to Meeson Road—I gave them the high and the low chair, the small one, five weeks before the baby was twelve months old, on the last day in April—I gave them, supposing they were on agreeing terms, for the use of the home—the wife was sometimes earning money by the use of the sewing machine by doing work at her home—I lived near them, and was constantly in and out of the place—I knew that Langham used to visit—I spoke to my daughter about it, and she used to assure me that she would bring no disgrace upon me, or upon my children, and I believed her—after that I did not know that Langham was coming about the place.
Cross-examined. She bought the sewing machine when she was an apprentice—she was frequently earning money by it—she got her living by it after her apprenticeship before she was married, and she frequently worked with it afterwards—I remember the mail cart being bought—I was security for a loan for Mr. Thompson—I think that was after the mail cart was bought—no doubt some of the loan went to pay for the mail cart—I do not know what he had the loan for—it was paid by my daughter, but her husband gave her money—she earned money by the machine, but I cannot say whether she paid off any of the loan out of that—the loan was obtained from a loan society, guaranteed by me, and my daughter used to bring money each week to pay it off.
Re-examined. What she earned went towards paying the home expenses—she kept her children very nice, and she made everything—(Read from Deposition): "My daughter had no money; what money she earned she spent on herself"—she never told me what she spent, or earned, but since I found out she must have had a deal more money paid her than what I know of—she earned a few shillings as a milliner sometimes—they lived together in a friendly way as man and wife till the appearance of Langham, as far as I know—the row was about Langham, but that was not in my house.
FREDERICK STEPHENS (Detective-Sergeant K.) On July 29th I went into the kitchen at 36, Meeson Road, and read the summons in this case to the defendants—Langham said, "It is a joint summons. He is mad. I
have been expecting something of this sort, bat that don't matter"—on August 2nd I went with the prosecutor to 36, Meeson Road, for the purpose of identification—I saw both prisoners—the woman produced a lace ruffle from a drawer, threw it to her husband, and said, "That is his"—she took a plaided silk sash from the drawer, and said, "That is the boy's; he can have that back"—there was then a lot of argument between her and the prosecutor, but nothing with regard to the identity, or the part he had played in removing the goods.
Cross-examined. I put the things down in this list, and the prisoner took a copy—this glass mug I seized, but not the tin of sugar—the prosecutor claimed all her clothing—that was left there—he said the curtains were similar to his—they were left there—they were not seized—he also claimed a dress bag, but his wife kept that, as she said it was a present to her.
Thompson, in her defence on oath, denied having taken anything but what she believed to be her own property, and said that she took no bed or table linen or towels which belonged to Langham; that the mail cart was paid for out of a loan of £7, which she re-paid out of money she earned; that her husband only allowed her 15s. a week; that she earned 9s. or 10s.; and that her husband contented to her leaving him, and taking the younger child.
Langham, in his defence on oath, denied any immorality before the wife left her husband, and said that he asked her whether the prosecutor would have any claim upon any article that she was bringing away, and told her that if so she was not to bring it; that her answer was, "All I am bringing I have a perfect right to"; and that the linen and furniture were his own.
The COURT directed the Jury that whatever feeling they might have with regard to the disgraceful conduct of the male prisoner, the evidence was not such that it would be safe to convict upon this charge.
NOT GUILTY .
FIFTH COURT, Thursday, September 14th,
FOURTH COURT, Friday, September 14th, and
OLD COURT, Tuesday, September 19th, 1905.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
MR. RODERICK Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended Wheeler and MR. JENKINS Defended Sawyer.
GEORGE HANMER . I live at 45, Dove Row, Shoreditch, and am a fountain pen manufacturer—I have known the prisoners for several years—about 12.15 on Saturday, August 6th, I was in Whiston Street by myself—I was struck from behind; I do not know by whom—Why Wheeler came up and said, "Come out of it," and at the same time he got hold me round the waistcoat pocket—I said, "Come out of it; you are one of them"—I meant he was one of the men who were going to set about me—he pretended to assist me—he said, "Come out of it," that was all—I gathered he meant come away from these fellows—he then demanded
that he should be weighed out for getting me out of this scrape—he said, "I want weighing out"—that was practically a demand for money—I said I should not think of anything of the sort—he then struck me a savage blow in the eye, and wells and Wheeler got me round the neck and I was thrown to the ground; I felt their hands going round my pockets; I was kicked about the legs and body, and in the eye; although it is five weeks ago the scar and discoloration have not quite gone—I was unconscious when Mrs. Norton picked me up—I have since found out her name—there were several more fellows there; I only recognise the prisoners—Sawyer was among those who struck me when I was on the bridge—I lost my pin and a rather old silk handkerchief—I fetched two policemen and we went after the men, but they ran and disappeared into a house by the side of the Canal, and the policemen did not care about going into the house after them; it was a place where they can go through and come out into another street—on the following Monday I met Wheeler and Wells when I was going out for a cycle ride—I did not wait to hear what they said—I said, "I do not want to have anything to say to you." and I rode away to keep an appointment—I next saw the prisoners at the police station—I saw the police on Monday and mentioned the prisoners' names to them and the police knew them—I had no fight with Wheeler; I was carrying a parcel.
By the COURT. I was going home when I was suddenly knocked down—several fellows were about, they came behind me—I had seen Sawyer and Wheeler among them before I was knocked down—it was rather dark and there were a number of noisy fellows on the right-hand side.
Cross-examined by Wells. You were not there the first time I was molested—you joined Wheeler when I was molested the second time at the corner of the bridge—you were punching me—I cannot say where you came from—you came straight at me; I only recollect seeing you a few seconds before; I have known you from a baby—I cannot say that you individually robbed me; you attempted to; you felt all over me, in my pockets—I had money in my pockets—I did not say before that I had lost money, because I was not sure of the amount—every pocket was empty with the exception of my hip pocket—I cannot say who robbed me—I had a couple of pieces of gold left—you punched me in the face and kicked me—you did not know me at the time; you told my mother so—I have no idea why you hit me—I have lost sight of you for many years—I did not see you on the Sunday.
Cross-examined by M. SANDS. The first time I was attacked by about six or eight men, Sawyer and Wheeler were among them—Wheeler came away from the rest and pretended to be a friend—I was simply struck from behind and I turned and saw Sawyer and Wheeler—Wheeler was doing nothing at the time except making a noise; the others were doing nothing then—they did not hustle me—some of them saw I recognised them—I had picked up my hat, which had been knocked off, and was going home when Wheeler came to me—I was hustled and pushed about when I was first struck—directly after I was struck from behind, on the same spot, Wheeler came and spoke to me—he walked beside me and
would not let me go—as soon as I recovered my hat I moved on and then Wheeler came and spoke to me—the other young men were not following me as well; Wheeler was the only one—the others joined shortly afterwards—Wheeler and I walked a little way in the same direction—he was speaking to me the whole time—I said if I knew what was the name of the fellow who struck me I should give him in charge and also Sawyer; I asked Wheeler his name; he made no answer—I did not tell the Magistrate that I asked Wheeler his name—you could throw a stone easily from the place where I was first struck to where Wheeler attacked me—he lives a very few doors off me; I know him perfectly well—he did not know me till this affair—I have lived there about twelve years and Wheeler has lived there for some time—he did not know me much—he wrote me a letter in which he said he never knew me—I have seen him about for twelve years—I keep a shop and am pretty well known about there—I knew where he lived—I was not angry with Wheeler because he would not tell me the man's name; I was trying to get away from him—I felt sure he knew the man's name—I was not annoyed that he would not tell me—I said I thought he was one of the mob; I felt sure he was—when I said that he struck me I did not hit him back, or defend myself; I had a parcel in my hand and I took care of it—I had plenty of money loose in my pockets, but no watch or chain—I keep my silver and coppers away from my gold—the handkerchief I lost was in an outside pocket; I was using it as a pocket handkerchief—the pin I wore as I wear this—I cannot say if I lost any money; I made no complaint about losing any—a considerable portion of my money was safe when I got home—they had felt every pocket except this one—after Wheeler struck me, a flood many of the rougher sort of fellows came up and struck me as well—there was a second attack—I missed my pin and handkerchief soon after I got home—I did not feel for my pin after the first or second attack; I did not know I had lost it—I had put it in my scarf four or five hours before—when I fetched the police before I went home I did not know I had lost it—I first discovered I had lost it when the policeman told me to look and see what I had lost—that was before I got home—I was too busy looking to my eye, which was bleeding; I thought more of looking after myself—my parcel had gone; it consisted of a cap—a boy took it home and told my parents about my being knocked about; I did not lose it.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I had just left my young lady's house; we had been for a walk; we paid no visits—I spoke about the second attack at the Police Court—the first thing that happened was a severe blow at the back of my head—I have the straw hat I was wearing at the time in Court—the blow staggered me; it did not exactly knock me down; I was just able to recover from it—it shook me a good deal—I do not know who delivered the blow—that was all that happened on the first attack—after that blow was struck I saw near me a tall fellow who looked as if he had had a military training, Sawyer, and Harry Brett—I gave Sawyer's name to the police, because I saw him after I was struck on the first occasion; there is no doubt about that—Wheeler then spoke to me, and shortly after I asked him who struck me—I did
not know then who it was—I had got thirty or forty paces from the place where I was first attacked when I was attacked again; I should not think it was 100 yards; it was some little distance—I complained to no one between the first and second attacks—I fetched two policemen that night and we went after the fellows—when I was attacked the second time the first thing that happened was that Wheeler struck me in the face under the eye—it did not knock me down—Wheeler and Wells put their arms round my neck with several men coming along—I was being pretty badly used—I should think roughly the whole crowd of twelve to fifteen were attacking me—I only felt Wells and Wheeler—they did not exactly obstruct my vision from anything else that was happening—they were the only two who kicked me or did anything that I could recognise or name—Sawyer was behind me at the first attack; I do not know who struck me—Sawyer was among those who knocked me down and kicked me—when I was being knocked about by Wheeler and Wells the others were coming on—twelve or fifteen were attacking me the second time, Sawyer among them—I could not identify who attacked me except Wheeler and Wells—I gave Sawyer's name to the police, and he was behind me when I was first struck—Sawyer was among those who struck me on the bridge; that was the first attack—I cannot say who struck the blow on the first attack, but Sawyer was among them—I cannot say that I saw Sawyer strike me in the second attack—on the second occasion I could not identify anyone but Wheeler and Wells—I have not spoken about this to any other people round about where I live—I do not know Allen or Payne—I was knocked unconscious on the second occasion—I went and got two policemen and went after all the men; they all went in the same direction—I do not know who those policemen were; they are not here to-day—I gave the names to the police, no description—I did not see Sawyer before I was attacked; I saw him when I turned round after I had been attacked—I knew the prisoners by name—I recognised them at the police station—I did not pick out Sawyer; he came out.
Re-examined. I have never been on terms of intimacy with any of the prisoners—I received this letter from Wheeler—I have not seen him write.
By the COURT. I was coming over the bridge; there was a gang of fellows behind me and I was hit by somebody—my hat was knocked off, but I was not thrown down—I cannot say who hit me—I looked round and saw among the gang behind me Sawyer and Wheeler, but not Wells—I cannot say if I was robbed then or later—I got away, and then Wheeler came with me for a bit and said I ought to weigh out, and struck me, and then he and Wells got their hands round my neck and threw me down and went through my pockets, and the other men came up and kicked me; I cannot say if Sawyer was among them—I saw him coming along with the same gang—no one interfered to prevent Wheeler and Wells throwing me down—I begged for help of one man—Sawyer was there.
WILLIAM SMITH (Sergeant J.) About 6.30 a.m. on August 8th I and Lee went to 58, Pritchard Road, where I saw Wells—I told him I was a police officer; he said, "I know what you have come about"—I told him the charge and he said, "I was there, but he lost nothing"—I afterwards went to 29, Dove Row, where I saw Wheeler—I told him the charge—he Said, "I thought Hanmar was going to summon me; I admit I had a fight with him."
Cross-examined by Wells. You did not say, "I was not robbing; I saw him having a fight with Wheeler."
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I took Wheeler to the station—I did not receive information from the prosecutor—I was sent from another station to assist Lee, other officers being away—the charge that came into our hands was assault, combined with robbery.
CHARLES LEE (Detective J.) About 7.30 a.m. on August 8th, the morning after Bank Holiday, I went to 108, Brunswick Street, where I saw Sawyer in bed—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with others in robbing Hanmer on the early morning of the 6th—he said, "What! Is Hanmer going to put it on me?"—in answer to the charge he said nothing.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. The prosecutor gave me the prisoners' names—he told me what had happened to him, and when he came to me both his eyes were black—he said he was attacked at the iron bridge, and after that, I think he said about 100 yards on he was again attacked—first he said there was a man whom he could identify, but he could not give his name; he was the man who came up and struck him behind—I have a note here of the account he gave me when he came to report to the station This was to the effect that early on Sunday morning, the 6th, at 12.18 a.m., Hanmer was walking over the bridge when he heard steps, and turned and saw a man he did not know by name, but could identify, and received a blow on his head; that he turned round and saw Wheeler, who came up said, "I will see you all right"; that he felt Wheelers hand in his waistcoat pocket, and said, "You get out of it, Wheeler; you are with them"; that Wheeler said Hanmer ought to be "weighed out," and struck him on the face, and caused his eye to go black; that Wells and others came up and Hanmer felt arms round his neck and a tug at hit tie; that when they released him he found his pin and scarf had gone; and that while on the ground he saw Sawyer and Brett—he said he was dazed—he said Sawyer was there with the men and when he was on the ground he recognised Sawyer and Brett—Brett I went there for the same morning, but he jumped out of the window and escaped—I have tried to get witnesses who lived close handy to the spot, but people are afraid to come—I received a letter from the prison from Wheeler and Sawyer asking me to ask Payne and Gardiner to attend as witnesses on their behalf—I have not interviewed them—I was directed by my superiors to ask them to come.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I know nothing about Stockley—Wheeler has been living in the same place for some years, two or three minutes' walk from the place where this assault took place—the other officers who were on the spot are not here because they said they ran after
a number of men, but could not see who they were—the prosecutor did not tell me that it was the police who first called his attention to the fact that his pin was not there.
In their statements before the Magistrate WELLS said that he should like to call two witnesses, Payne and Gardiner, to whom he was speaking, WHEELER said he should wish to call Stockley. SAWYER said he had his witnesses.
Wells, in his defence on oath, said that on the Saturday night he came out of the Sportsman with Payne and Gardiner and they stood talking for ten or fifteen minutes when they saw a crowd over the road against the Uncle Tom; that they crossed to see what was the matter and he saw Wheeler and Hanmer punching each other; that he stood there talking to Payne's son, having left Payne and Gardiner; that since his arrest the prosecutor had given his parents money to get food for him in prison; that he had never touched the prosecutor, and the only man he saw with him was Wheeler; that he had known Hanmer all his life as a respectable sober man and had always got on well with him; that he could not say he had ever seen him fighting before, but he knew he was short tempered; that the fight lasted about ten minutes and then people in the crowd stopped it because the prosecutor was getting the worst of it; that he saw in the crowd Harvey, Spalding and several others; and that when he was speaking to Payne and Gardiner he was asking for a job; he denied that he went through Hanmer's pockets, or that Sawyer was with him that night.
Evidence for Wells.
WILLIAM PAYNE, SENR . On the Saturday night I remember your talking to me and Alf Gardiner outside the Sportsman for about ten minutes—after that I and Gardiner bid each other good-night and you walked across the road—I went home, down the middle of the street where I lived, and Gardiner went towards home—I am a firewood chopper—we were chaffing together about our not giving you a job.
Cross-examined by MR. RODERICK. No one was with me but Wells and Gardiner—my son was not there—I did not see a fight between Wheeler and the prosecutor, in fact I do not know Wheeler; he knows me, he says—"when I got to my door there was a bit of a row up at the top; that is all I know about it.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I know Sawyer by sight; I never saw him there that night.
WILLIAM PAYNE, JUNR . I am a cabinetmaker—on this Saturday night I do not remember seeing or speaking to you; you were there among the crowd—I never saw you do nothing—I saw Hanmer and a big fellow, who had his coat off, arguing, and I saw Hanmer walk over to Wheeler and Stockley, and when they got to Uncle Tom's Cabin, Wheeler and Hanmer got rowing and fighting—it was a fair fight between them according to what I saw of it—I did not see you strike Hanmer—I never
saw Sawyer among the mob at all; he was not there when this row was on—I saw him go with his wife and another woman out of the Acorn and home about ten minutes before they shut up.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I am no friend of Wheeler; I know him by sight—I used to live in Whiston Street; I do not now—I know the prosecutor by sight—when I first saw him on this night he was standing by the electric light post by the iron bridge in Whiston Street, and there was a big fellow there with his coat off, and he walked away—Hanmer walked over to Wheeler and Stockley; I was one side and they the other—Wheeler and Hanmer argued the point and got to fighting—they started talking about this fellow who had his coat off; I cannot say who he was; he was bigger than the prisoners—I did not see Hanmer struck by anybody before he and Wheeler began to fight—there were plenty of people about—there was not such a good crowd where the fellow had his coat off, but that was not where the fight between Wheeler and Hanmer was—there was a bother where Hanmer and the man with his coat off was, not a fight—there was no fight except between Wheeler and Hanmer—I knew Stockley before by living down there—I did not see the end of the fight between Wheeler and Hanmer—I saw Hanmer walking towards the Sportsman after the fight; there was a crowd as they came out of the two public-houses and they surged round the two men who were going to fight.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I saw Sawyer come out of the public-house with his wife and another young woman—they went towards home, and I and a young man and two young women walked towards home—Sawyer was not in Whiston Street then.
Cross-examined by MR. RODEICK. It is untrue to say that I, my father and Wells were together when the fight took place—I cannot say if Gardiner was with me—I never came across these men—I came out of the Acorn—neither Wells, Gardiner nor my father were there; I was not with them—I was with two young women and a young man—I did not see my father at all—where the first row started was just over the bridge—I am no friend of any of the prisoners; I know them by sight—we used to have bikes out round Hanmer's place—I cannot say who the man was who was going to have a fight with Hanmer; the man had his coat off to fight, but Hanmer walked away with Wheeler and Stockley—Hanmer and Wheeler fought; I cannot say what about—I did not follow item up; I was on the other side of the way, and it was my way home; I had to walk through Whiston Street—I cannot say if Wheeler was with Wells when the last disturbance took place—there was a crowd there and I was among it on the outskirts, or I should not have seen it—I deny that Wells and Wheeler were going through Hanmer's pockets; the crowd did not prevent my seeing—there was no crowd when the man had his coat off; the crowd came out of the two public-houses.
ALFRED GARDINE . I am a foreman contractor for John Lymes—on this Saturday night, just before closing time, I, you and Mr. Payne were standing outside the Sportsman talking for four or five minutes and I bade Payne good-night and the company as well—I did not walk
across the road with you to see what was the matter; I bade you all good-night and left you on the corner.
Cross-examined by MR. RODERICK. I did not see any fight, or any man with his coat off and a crowd round—I saw a crowd coming over the iron bridge when I was standing at my door—I saw nothing going on, but the affair might have occurred lower down where the crowd remained—I was with Wells and Payne, senior, outside the public-house—I know Wheeler; I did not see him at all.
Wheeler, in his defence on oath, said that he lived eight doors from Hanmer, whom he knew perfectly well by sight; that he was not in regular employment and had never been convicted; that on this Saturday night at 12.10 he was talking to Stockley at the foot of the iron bridge when he saw Hanmer with his hat off and a tall man with his coat off as if about to strike Hanmer; that there were a good many people there; that he went up and persuaded the other man to put his coat on and Hanmer told him his hat had been knocked off: that he advised Hanmer not to stop there, and walked 500 yards with him, looking for a policeman, but not seeing one; that Hanmer asked him the tall man's name and when he (Wheeler) said he did not know, said, "Don*t tell lies," used a foul expression, and said he was one of his mob, and that then he (Wheeler) lost his temper and struck him, and he struck back; that he did not see Hanmer on the ground at any time; that he did not steal anything from him; that the crowd parted them; that he stayed there and saw Hanmer come back with policemen who followed some lads who ran off when they saw the policemen; that he did not see Sawyer there that night; that he had had a drop of beer, but knew what he was doing; that he saw Wells when he got to the Sportsman, but not till after the fight; and Wells did not touch Hanmer; that when in prison he wrote the following letter to Hanmer, in which Frank meant Wells: "Dear George,—I write these few lines to you. I heard last Friday that you wish you had not started the charge, and you would like to get us off only you have got to prosecute. You know, George, that we are innocent of the charge of robbing you. I would not have minded if you had charged me with assault. We now come up at the Old Bailey next month and you know Sawyer was not there at all, It will be five weeks we have done when we leave here. You know how our defence stands; we have not got much change and I hope you won't try and send us to prison for a long term because we are sure to get it if you don't try and get us out of it. George, if you had listened to Frank on that morning you would not have gone any further. Though I have lived in the same turning five years I never knew your name was Hanmer: I thought you came from Shoreditch when you said you knew me and all my brothers, else it would never have been like this. I had a drop of beer else I should have had more reason, and you know Frank had a drop. You can believe me or not when I say I did not know you, because Tom Harvey told me afterwards who you was. You can ask him, and no more did Frank till after. I thought I was doing good when I took you away. You know I never asked you for money if you speak the truth. I would not have cared, George; it won't do you no good to see us go to prison innocent, and I hope you will think it over and let me know good or bad. You can visit me if you like
or bring two more and visit the three of us. I hope you will think it over and send me a letter, then I will tell Frank good or bad."
Evidence for Wheeler.
EDWARD STOCKLEY . I am a French polisher—on the night of this row I was with Wheeler—I knew the prosecutor by sight—he came and complained to me and Wheeler that he had been molested; I did not see him molested—I saw Wheeler go down the turning with him—Wheeler offered his assistance to get the man out of it and we walked down to the corner of the turning, where he and Wheeler got talking and it came to a fight between them—I did not know till that night who the prosecutor was or where he lived—it was too much of a row to see him and Wheeler separated—a lot of people came up—I kept out of it as well as I could—I did not see the prosecutor after it was over; I went towards my home.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. I never saw Sawyer there at all.
Cross-examined by MR. RODERICK. I did not see the prosecutor with a big man with his coat off accompanied by Wheeler—the prosecutor did not say how he had been molested—the prosecutor turned to Wheeler and said. "You are one of the mob," and that caused the bother between them—Wells was there; only Wheeler and me were together—the fight did not take so very long—it was opposite the Sportsman—it was a stand-up fight.
Re-examined. The prosecutor and Wheeler and I all walked away from the bridge in the same direction—Wheeler and the prosecutor were talking together, I cannot say what about—I did not think it was coming to such a serious matter as this.
By the COURT. I did not see the prosecutor thrown to the ground by Wheeler; it was a rare struggle—you could not see really who was there—the prosecutor was certainly on the ground, but I do not know who put him there—Wheeler never put the man upon the ground—some one else must have; Wheeler was fighting with him.
ARTHUR SPALDING . I live in Whiston Street, and am a French polisher—I was not with Wheeler on the night of this bother; I was standing opposite where the row occurred—I saw Wheeler and the prosecutor talking for about ten minutes and then I looked round and saw them struggling and the prosecutor struck Wheeler and then Wheeler struck him back in self-defence—I saw a fight between the two—I did not see what happened at the end of it—I saw a crowd; it did nothing—it was not a rough crowd that I know of.
Cross-examined by MR. RODERICK. I did not see the combatants separated—they fought it out in self-defence—I had a little conversation with the prosecutor in Club Row about this matter—I asked him whether he had lost anything, and he would not tell me.
Sawyer, in his defence on oath, said that he was a stevedore; that on this Saturday night he was with his wife and Mrs. Arno, a lodger, in the Acorn, and they left just before closing time and went home; that he went to bed and did not go out again that night; that he was not near where Hanm said he was assaulted either the first or second time; that he knew Hanm
well, but did not see him that night; and that he knew Detective lee had a grudge against him.
Evidence for Sawyer.
BEATERICE ARNO . I am married to a polisher, and lived at 108, Brunswick Street, the same house as Sawyer—on this Saturday night, August 5th, shortly before closing time, Sawyer, his wife and I left the Acorn and went straight home—they went indoors and went to their room—we got home about 12.10—the door was closed when we got in and it was bolted shortly afterwards—I saw no disturbance that night—Sawyer was with me the whole time after coming out of the Acorn until we got home.
Cross-examined by MR. RODERICK. I was a lodger in Sawyer's house and a friend of him and his wife—we had been in the Acorn about half an hour; we went away directly we came out—we had previously been in the Victoria.
JANE SAWYER . I am Sawyer's wife—I am living now at the Anchor with my brother; I have had to leave my lodgings since this bother—on this Saturday night, about 11.55, I left the Acorn with Mrs. Arno and my husband, and we all went straight home—I and my husband went straight upstairs into our room, had a bit of supper and went to bed—he did not go out again that night—I saw no disturbance that night—I did not see my husband strike or kick anybody.
WELLS and WHEELER GUILTY . Thirteen months' hard labour each.
SAWYER NOT GUILTY .
664. VICTOR EMMANUEL NAZARET (45) , Fraudulently converting to his own use and benefit certain property entrusted to him by Henri de Gesne in order that he might pay the proceeds thereof to Henri Pierre Simon.
MR. FRAMPTON Prosecuted; MR. HOLLOWAY Defended.
HENRY PEIRRE SIMON (Interpreted). I am the agent of M. de Gesne, who is a private gentleman in Paris—the prisoner is my representative there—I introduced him to M. de Gesne in March last, who had an antique commode for sale—the prisoner called upon me on March 7th with a gentleman and asked to see it—the prisoner said he (the gentleman) was a customer, but he did not buy the commode—he then said he had another customer in London and that in order to show the commode to the customer it ought to be sent to him in London—I arranged to send it to my packer, which I did—on March 11th I received a letter from the prisoner saying that he had seen it—I arranged with him that if he sold the commode he was to have 5 per cent, commission—I asked 15,000 francs for it—I received a letter from the prisoner saying he had just declined an offer of £600 for it—I received another letter from him in which he said the commode was always at my disposal—I asked him to return it to me—that was on May 22nd—I had no idea that two days before that he had pawned it with Mr. Attenborough—I came to London and discovered that the prisoner had pawned it with Mr. Attenborough for
£250—he had no authority to do so—he was only my agent to sell it here in London.
Cross-examined. He was only to have commission if he sold it—there was no partnership between me and the prisoner—if he had sold it for more than £600 he was to have half the difference, but he was still my agent—M. de Gesne did not sell me the commode—I proposed to M. de Gesne that he should have £600 for it or have it back—all that I could make beyond the £600 was to be my profit—I wished at first to get £1,000 for it—the prisoner was not able to sell it at that price—he could not buy the commode, as he had not the money—I did not offer in the first instance to sell it to him.
JACQUES CHENUE . I am a packer, carrying on business at 10, Great St. Andrew Street, Shaftesbury Avenue—on March 11th I received a commode from Mr. Simon, of Paris—on that day I unpacked it before the prisoner—I handed it to him on Monday, March 13th—he took it away.
Cross-examined. I have never done business with the prisoner before.
HERBERT ATTENBOROUGH . I carry on business at 127, Buckingham Palace Road—the prisoner called upon me upon May 9th and showed me a portrait of a commode—he asked me if I would entertain it in the way of business—I went to see it and agreed to advance £250 on it—I advanced that money to the prisoner—that was done upon a contract of the 10th, which stated among other things that he had lawful power and authority to pledge the goods.
Cross-examined. I have had other transactions with him before—they have been advances on fine art goods—he is a fine art dealer; I do not know that he deals in furniture—when I made the advance upon the commode it remained at the-Pall Mall depository—I gave notice of my charge to the proprietors of that establishment—I was aware he was trying to sell it—he would have had to come to me for my sanction.
Re-examined. If I had known the article was not his I should certainly not have advanced the money upon it—I have not been repaid my money—the commode is still at the same place.
LEONARD ARTHUR WILLIAMS . I am in business at 72, Victoria Street, a letting clerk for offices there—I let the prisoner a flat at 15, Alexander Mansions, on September 24th, 1903—in April of this year I put in an execution there for six months' rent—the prisoner left the premises on May let—the amount of the distress was £24.
Cross-examined. Letters did not follow him; ours were returned—I do not know that he gave notice to the Post Office of his new address.
TOM COCK (Detective A.) On June 19th I saw the prisoner at Brook Green—I said to him, "Mr. Nazaret, I believe?"—he said, "Yes"—I said to him, "I am a police officer and hold a warrant for your arrest for converting to your own use a valuable commode, the property of Mr. Simon"—he said, "Yes; have you got the warrant?"—I said, "Yes"—I read it—he then replied, "Is this an extraditable offence, "part of the business is in Paris and Mr. Simon lives there?"—when charged he said nothing.
GUILTY . The police stated that he had obtained a quantity of other goods from different people and dealt with them in the same way. Twelve months' hard labour.
665. JOSEPH ANTOINE LOUIS LOBJOIS (38) , Fraudulently converting to his own use and benefit a cheque for £6 2s. 8d., received by him for and on account of Jules Bengue. Eight other counts charged him with similar offences as to other amounts.
MR. HEMMERDE Prosecuted; MR. HOLLOWAY Defended.
JULES BENGUE (Interpreted). I live at 47, Rue Blanche, Paris, and carry on business in Paris as a manufacturing chemist—I have a branch business at Great Titchfield Street, London—the prisoner was in my employment as manager of my London office during 1902 and 1903—the arrangement was that cheques received were to be paid to the Societe Generale here and I remitted as much money as was wanted to the London, City & Midland Bank, Tottenham Court Road branch, for all expenses—as manager the prisoner had the superintendence of the collection of accounts due—beyond the money paid into the account at the Societe Generale I have never received any other moneys from the prisoner—among my English customers there were two firms, namely, the American Dental Manufacturing Company and Messrs. Parro—I had a conversation with the prisoner respecting those accounts—I do not remember when—he went to see the customers and to get in the money—the prisoner left my service in June, 1904, without giving any notice.
Cross-examined. My first agreement with the prisoner was on January 7th, 1900—under that he was appointed manager of the business in England—it was his duty to keep the books, but he engaged another person to do it—he was only employed to sell goods—he had no absolute discretion as to buying stock—he had to ask me for all expenses—if the prisoner wanted to carry on another business he had always to get my permission—the prisoner invented an inhaler against my orders—this pamphlet relating to it was printed without my consent—the benefit from the sale of it went in the business, but none had been sold for two years—there is an account of the commission due to the prisoner in the books—I do not know that he paid over directly customers, cheques in payment for goods—before 1902 he was doing so, but I forbade him to do it any more—the inhaler patents cost me a lot of money—they were paid for by cheques signed by me on the London, City & Midland Bank—I am prosecuting in this case because I say the prisoner has embezzled sums of money—it is not because I desire to get possession of this patent—I never wanted it—I wrote a letter to my nephew in which I said, "Don't do any filling up work before Lobjois if by chance he returns. The fear of seeing him set up in business against me made me delay matters, but I think we hold him well and that we shall not have any fear on this point"—I did not receive a letter from my nephew in which this is stated: "Lobjois will in all certainty seek to set up on his own
account. It will therefore be necessary to get him convicted and pursue him by a red-hot bullet"—the prisoner had a right to deduct his salary and commission from my moneys—I never had an account prepared of the profits coming to him either on the inhaler or on the other part of the business—I know he owes the money, as he always paid himself out of the money received from me.
Re-examined. He always received his commission and salary during the time he was with me.
LEANDER PORRO . I carry on business at 33, New Cavendish Street, as a manufacturing dentist—I have been for several years a customer of Dr. Bengue & Co.—I settled my accounts with them by cheque—in March, 1902, I received this account from them for £6 2s. 8d. and paid the amount by cheque on May 9th—it was made payable to the prisoner—he gave me a receipt for it—there is another account of July 31st, 1902—I paid a cheque in respect of that on September 2nd for £3 9s. 4d.—there is another one of December 31st, 1902—that was paid by cheque on January 2nd, 1903, for £9 10s.—another one of July, 1903, for £13—that was paid to the prisoner by cheque.
Cross-examined. Accounts are still going on with the firm.
FREDERICK CHARLES TUCKER . I carry on business at 16, Poland Street, W., as manager of the American Dental Manufacturing Company—we are customers of the prosecutor—I had an account of April 30th, 1902, for £9 9s. which was paid by my firm's cheque on May 23rd, 1902, made payable to the prisoner—there was another account of July 30th, 1902, for £12 13s. 11d., which was paid to the prisoner on September 2nd by my firm's cheque—both those cheques are indorsed by him—there is Another one of August 31st for £5 8s. paid by cheque on September 25th, 1902—another of October 31st for £7 7s. 10d., paid by cheque on November 24th, 1902, and another of December 31st, 1902, for £11 0s. 1d. paid by cheque for £11 on January 7th, 1903—there were three subsequent accounts paid by cheque made payable to Bengue & Co.—these cheques are stamped "Societe Generale de Paris"—the others are stamped with the Tottenham Court Road bank stamp.
MARTIN EDWARD SHUFFELL . I am a clerk to the London, City & Midland bank, 237, Tottenham Court Road—there is an account there of Bengue & Co., and an account of the prisoner's—I produce a copy of the entries in our books relating to the prisoner's account—it is correct—I find in that an entry of a cheque for £6 2s. 8d. paid in on May 12th, and cheques for £3 9s. 4d., £9 10s. and other amounts, in all nine cheques paid into the prisoner's private account—that account is at present overdrawn.
Cross-examined. It is now closed—it was overdrawn in 1904 to the amount of 15s. 3d.—in 1902 and 1903 it was in credit—in addition to the cheques mentioned there were a great many payments in.
ROY PERKINS . I am a clerk to the Societe Generate, 53, Old Broad Street, City—I produce copy of entries in the account for the years 1901, 1902, 1903 and 1904 of Dr. Bengue—these cheques of May 8th, 1903, for £12 3s. 11d., May 21st, 1903, for £13 17s., and July 20th, 1903, for £17 5s., were paid to the London, City & Midland Bank.
Cross-examined. I do not know who paid them in.
FANNY NAOME STAMP . I am employed by Dr. Bengue & Co., at 91 Great Titchfield Street, and have been there since 1900—I produce our petty cash book, cash book and ledger—most of the entries are in my writing—the practice with regard to cheques used to be that the letters were opened by the prisoner; the cheques were handed to me, I entered them and the cheques were handed back to the prisoner—these entries represent all the sums I have received from him—the prisoner paid the cheques into the bank—I never paid any in—I have looked in the books for entries of the nine cheques in question—they do not appear there—they never came into my hands—I do not find any trace in the books of the three other cheques—I used to send all the accounts out, but the accounts to Mr. Porto and the American Dental Company were handed to the prisoner, as he wished to deliver them himself—he asked me to do so—in July, 1903, whilst I was away on my holiday, there was an amount of £27 6s. 3d. entered by the prisoner in the books as having been received from Mr. Porro—when I came back I crossed the amount out, as I had a doubt about it—no comment was made as to my doing that—on one occasion I found an account for the American Dental Company made out by the prisoner when I had already made one out and it did not correspond with mine.
Cross-examined. I have not got that account; it has got mislaid, not destroyed—it was not given to the prosecutor—the account as made out by the prisoner was for a period of two months, whereas mine was for quite a year—I kept the books—there was no other book-keeper—there was a Frenchman sent over; he was there a fortnight and I was there the whole time—he might have been there for a month: I have forgotten—he would write in the journal and make out invoices—he did not keep the cash book—at that time I was discharged on a Saturday at lunch time and asked to return to my duties on the following Monday—I believe I had a telegram on the Saturday—if the £27 6s. 3d. had been a correct amount, the prisoner should have entered it in the ledger—it is my duty to post up the ledger—if we received stamps and postal orders, the stamps were used for letters and the orders paid into the bank the same as the cheques—it was very seldom that postal orders were cashed and used to pay accounts with—it was done, but not always—it was for the purpose of petty cash for parcels post—in that case they never found their way into the bank account—on one or two occasions customers' cheques were, I believe, used, but not recently; it was never done to pay the firm's creditors with the money—the prisoner instead of paying the cheque into the bank would give me the money and cash it himself—that was not done frequently—I entered the amount in the cash book as "Cash received"—there were custom dues payable on some of the goods—the prisoner gave me the money to pay these—I cannot say that cheques were turned into money to pay these—I can only say that on two or three occasions customers' cheques were cashed by the prisoner for the purposes of the business generally—it is so long ago I can hardly remember—the largest amount paid to the customs would be about £4—I cannot remember one as big as £10.
Re-examined. I never sent out an account for £27 6s. 3d. to Mr. Porro—all accounts were made out by me.
Old Court, September 19th.
FANNY NAOME STAMP (Re-examined). I have examined Dr. Bengue's books since the last hearing as to the inhalers—during 1902-3-4, twelve were sold at 65s.—that would be £39, less discount, roughly about £31—about four dozen were bought from the makers at 35s. each—the twelve would cost us about £21—I have also looked into the expense for printing the pamphlet that was produced last time—I find there is one receipt for £6 10s. and 18s. 6d. for the printing—that was paid by Dr. Bengue—I have looked all through the books and can find no trace since the new Arrangement of 1902 of an odd amount being received by me in cash and corresponding with any cheque entered in the books—where sums are entered in the receipt books I find corresponding entries in the cash book—moneys received by me in cash are always entered in the cash book—when I received petty cash from the prisoner I find from an examination of Dr. Bengue's pass-book that moneys were invariably drawn out to the same amount at or after the time—the customs were all paid out of petty cash—I mostly had a balance of petty cash in hand.
By MR. HOLLOWAY. I have gone through the order book to ascertain the number of inhalers bought—there is an entry of October 26th, 1903, "3 dozen chloride-ethyl inhalers"—I do not think that is the same as the prisoner's.
FREDERICK BENGUE (Partly interpreted). I carry on business at 91, Great Titchfield Street, and am the prosecutor's nephew—I have been manager of his London branch since July, 1904—I received instructions to go through the books—I had some correspondence with Dr. Bengue of July 7th, 8th and 9th—these letters were put in a desk which I afterwards found broken open—I and the prisoner had keys of the office—I next saw those letters at the Police Court, when they were produced by the prisoner—the chloride-ethyl inhaler is not the same as the prisoner's—we have four special inhalers—I have gone through the two banks' accounts and find that the prisoner has drawn out all that was due to him for salary and commission.
Cross-examined. The desk that was broken open was not the prisoner's—I suppose the prisoner came to fetch away the things that belonged to him—I could not give a certain account of the inhalers—I do not know Anything about the accounts of the business prior to July, 1904—these cheques were not part of the payment for the prisoner's profit and commission.
Re-examined. I have examined Dr. Bengue's pass-book of the London, City & Midland Bank—I produce extracts showing the amounts the prisoner drew put—in 1902, £464 17s. 7d. was drawn out by the prisoner; a 1903 £780 16s. 2d.; in 1904 £457 18s., making a total of £1,703 11s. 9d.—I have also examined the cash book and find that in 1902 £266 6s. 6d.
was handed over by the prisoner to the cashier as petty cash; in 1903 £426 11s. 8d.; and in 1904 £206, making a total of £899 18s. 2d., leaving £803 13s. 7d. drawn from the bank and not accounted for by petty cash payments—I have also gone through a copy of the waste and counter cash books at the London, City & Midland Bank relating to the prisoner's private account and find that he has paid into his own account cheques drawn on Dr. Bengue's account amounting to £657 15s. 1d.—I find, taking his salary and commission, that in 1903 he was entitled to £215 17s. 5d.; in 1903 £239 15s. 8d.; and in 1904 £109 14s. 6d., making a total of £565 7s. 7d., showing that the prisoner has drawn out £238 6s. unaccounted for by petty cash or commission—I have also gone through the cash received books and find that the total receipts in cheques and postal orders in 1902 amounted to £3,341 5s. 3d.; in 1903 it was £4,096 13s. 6 1/2 d.; and in the half year of 1904 £1,645 9s. 11 1/2 d.—that is excluding cash and stamps—I have looked through the account at the Society Generale and find that in 1902 £3,225 10s. 11d. was paid in; in 1903 £5,985 13s. 8d.; and in 1904 £1,617 3s. 2d.—there was further paid into the London, City & Midland Bank £192 17s. 1d., making a total of £9,021 4s. 10d., leaving a balance unaccounted for of £62 3s. 11d. received but not paid into the bank—I also find the sum of £42 15s. 11d. received from the American Dental Company and paid into the account but not appearing in the books—that makes altogether unaccounted for £104 19s. 10d.—I have here a list of cheques amounting to £100 17s. 11d. extending from September 10th, 1902, to January 27th, 1904, which cheques appear in the books as having been received but do not appear in Dr. Bengue's account as having been paid in, but which appear in the prisoner's private account.
By MR. HOLLOWAY. These books that I have examined have been kept by Miss Stamp—she was the only bookkeeper.
CORNELIUS SEXTON (Inspector, New Scotland Yard). On August 16th, 1904, I received the first warrant for the prisoner's arrest—I traced him to New York—on January 21st last I received a fresh warrant—the prisoner was subsequently extradited—I arrested him at Bristol on July 1st, at 6 a.m.—he was then in charge of the captain of the Brooklyn city—I asked the prisoner his name—he said, "Joseph Lobjois"—I told him who I was—I produced and read the warrant to him—he replied, "Yes, sir, I know all about it"—I conveyed him to London, where he was formally charged—he made no reply to the charge.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that he had been a manufacturing chemist for nearly twenty years; that he was engaged by the prosecutor to sell his products; that he invented three apparatus for administering anasthetics, which the prosecutor agreed to his selling in the business on a share of the profits; that a large profit was made on the sale; that he had never had an account with the prosecutor of what those profits were or what the share was; that there was a considerable sum due to him (the prisoner); and that the cheques in question were used by him (the prisoner) in the business.
The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict and the trial was postponed till next Sessions.
OLD COURT.—Friday, September 15th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimores.
666. ADOLFO ANTONELLI (23) , Contriving and intending to justify the crimes of assassination and murder, and encouraging and inciting other persons to commit those crimes, and unlawfully printing and publishing and procuring to be printed and published in a pamphlet called "L'lnsurrezione" a scandalous and malicious libel in the Italian language. Other counts. Encouraging persons unknown to murder the Sovereigns and Rulers of Europe and endeavouring to persuade persons, whose names are unknown, to murder the Sovereigns and Rulers of Europe and particularly His Majesty King Emanuel III., King of Italy. And FRANCESCO BARBERI (33) , For aiding and abetting Antonelli in the commission of the said misdemeanour.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. THOMPSON and MR. THORNE Defended Antonelli; MR. HUTTON and MR. MARTIN O'CONNOR Defended Barberi.
ISRAEL NARODICZKY . I am a printer at 48, Mile End Road—I know Antonelli and a man named Baron, who is a Russian tailor—in the week beginning July 9th I saw Baron at my premises—after his first visit he came with Antonelli, whom he introduced as an editor who wanted to print an Italian paper—Baron spoke to me in Yiddish—I had made arrangements with him about doing some printing and when he came with Antonelli he said, "This is the man who wants to print the paper"—I told Antonelli that I did not understand the language, and as this was an anarchist paper I did not want to print it, but if I was told there was nothing in the paper I would take it—he told me the paper was all right—I spoke to him in English—I did not understand the language the paper was in, but I gathered that it was an anarchist paper—he said, "It is all legal and you can print it"—I told him the manuscript must be very plain writing, because I did not understand the language, and if it was not plain I could not set it up—he said, "The writing will be very plain"—I had told Baron before the price, and that day I received £1 deposit from Antonelli—a few days later I got some manuscript by post and proceeded to set up the type—Antonelli called on me a few times and corrected the proofs—he said a thousand copies were to be printed—I printed a thousand and Antonelli called and took away the parcel which contained them—there was another man with him—that was on a Friday—I do not remember the date; it was in July—it was about two weeks after his first visit—in the middle of the time I received some money and at the last I received the rest—altogether I bad from Antonelli £4 7s. which included the £1 I received the first day—when Antonelli took the papers away he told me to keep the type, because he wanted another 1,000 printed—he asked me about the price for the second 1,000 and the arrangement was £1 2s.—I agreed to keep the type set up, and I afterwards handed it over to the police—this paper (Produced) is one of the copies I printed—I have since been to Scotland yard and seen some further copies printed from my type—at the end
of each week I burn the manuscript because the dustmen will not take the waste paper away—I remember the handwriting of the manuscript; this paper (Ex. 1) is in the same writing; it is a list of subscriptions and appears in the last column of the paper.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. I do not remember Antonelli bringing me some manuscripts when he came to see me about the printing—he did not tell me, when I asked him that the writing should be plain, that he would copy it, but he told me it would be very plain—I remember the handwriting, although I do not know Italian, because I am a printer and see several handwritings, and that makes an impression on me.
By the COURT. I am quite sure that this list is in the same writing as the manuscript.
GEORGE RILEY (Sergeant, Criminal Investigation Department). On Saturday, July 29th, about 2.15 p.m, I went to 41, Dean Street, Soho, which is a newspaper shop occupied by Barberi—I saw him in the back room of the shop from which he came—on the counter I saw this copy of "L'lnsurrezione" (Produced)—I bought it—Barberi charged 6d. for it—I asked him if he had any more and he said, "That is the last for the present"—I was in plain clothes—the same day with Constable Kirchner I went to the shop about 2.45 and on the counter I saw thirteen copies of "L'lnsurrezione"—Barberi was behind the counter—I seized the copies and said to him, "Have you any more?"—he said, "No"—I said, "If you sell any more of these you will be prosecuted"—next day I went to 20, Manor Street, Chelsea, about 12.5—it is a barber's shop—I do not remember if there was any name over the door—I spoke to a woman in the passage—shortly afterwards Antonelli came to the door of his room at the back—in the room was a woman whom I now know as Delfina Rutizo—I made as if to go into the room and Antonelli put his arm across the doorway and prevented me, and Delfina stayed close to him—Detective Fitch was with me—I said, "We are police officers and we are making inquiries respecting this paper," showing him the copy which I had purchased the day before; "Are you the editor and the publisher of it?"—he replied, "Yes, I am"—I asked him where he had it printed and he replied, "In Switzerland and Geneva"—I asked him how many copies he had had printed and he said, "Two thousand"—I asked him to show me those still in his possession—he replied, "I distributed them all among my friends yesterday," and added that he had one copy left—I asked him to show it to me, which he did—I took it from him and, saying that I should keep it, I handed it to Fitch—Antonelli said, "You must not take it; that is the last copy I have left for myself"—I said, "Now you say you are the editor of this paper; where is your name on it?"—he said, "There," and pointed to the last column at the top of page 8—these other copies (Produced) are what I have seized—I said to him, "Then you are Adolfo Antonelli?"—I was reading from the paper and he said, "Yes, I am"—I said, "Where are the manuscripts relating to the articles in this journal?"—he said, "The printer has them. I have sent them all to him"—I said, "Which articles did you write in this paper?"—he replied, "I did not
write any; I only corrected the grammatical mistakes and the printer's errors; the articles were all written by persons in Italy"—I asked him how much the paper had cost him, and he said he had not paid anything yet and that he did not know how much it would cost him for printing—I said, "How many copies did you leave with Barberi?"—he replied, "I do not know; I gave some to him and some to my friends who were in the shop yesterday"—I asked him for their names and he would not give them to me, but subsequently he said, "I gave some to Ranieri"—I again asked him to show me the copies which were in his possession and he said, "I distributed them yesterday in the anarchist centres"—I did not go into his room—he said he knew something about the law and that I could not enter the room without his permission—on August 7th, about 11 p.m., I went to 41, Dean Street, with other officers and saw Barberi behind the counter—we said to him, "We have got a warrant for your arrest"—he requested it to be read, which was done by Sergeant Macbride—I spoke in English to him—he speaks English well—he said, "I am innocent. I have done no wrong"—we took him to Bow Street and he was detained until the following day—on August 8th I went to 20, Manor Street, and searched the premises—I did not find anybody there—the whole of the people with whom Antonelli lived had left, and the premises were entirely empty.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. I got my instructions to make enquiries from Scotland Yard—I have not yet visited the Italian Embassy or the Consul-General—when I had this conversation with Antonelli at his house I had no intention of arresting him—most of the conversation was in English, but I spoke a few words to him in French respecting his birthplace—I never warn persons when making enquiries—I had seized a great number of these papers on the previous day and had seen his name as a person to whom communications could be sent, but I knew it long before then.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Barberi's shop in Dean Street is an ordinary newspaper shop; I suppose about 16 ft. by 12 ft in size—it was filled with all kinds of papers; there might have been ten or fifteen kinds of Italian papers there and about the same number of French, "Le Petit Journal," "Le Matin" and other harmless papers—some English papers were there also—Barberi has been there since the end of January—to all appearances his shop was a genuine one—I spoke English to him, which he speaks very well—the paper which I took first was being sold on the counter—when I told him that if he sold any more I should prosecute him, he knew that I was a police officer, but I told him that I was a police officer to make certain—I told him I should prosecute him if he sold the papers because I was carrying out my instructions—I did not tell him what I should prosecute him for, but he understood that distinctly—I did not hear him say that, as far as he knew, there was nothing wrong in selling the papers—I did not point out to him any objectionable or offensive parts—I did not tell him why he should not sell the papers.
Re-examined. The main conversation with Antonelli was carried on
in English—there were several other anarchist papers among those sold by Barberi, both in Italian and French—I have got here one or two which I bought in his shop.
HERBERT FITCH (Detective). On July 29th I was near Barberi's shop when I saw Antonelli take a parcel in and another man took a second parcel in—they were together—the parcels were placed on the counter and opened by Antonelli, and a certain number of copies were taken from them by him, handed to Barberi and then placed under the counter—I saw that it was a journal of some description in the parcels, but I could not identify them; I was looking through the window—it was about 1.50.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. A small quantity of papers were left on the counter—I cannot say what other papers were on the counter; there were some there evidently for sale.
LIONEL KIRCHNER (Detective). On July 29th I was at Dean Street and went to Barberi's shop about 2.5 p.m.—I saw there Antonelli, Barberi and his brother—I saw a bundle of "L'Insurrezione" lying on the counter being folded up by Barberi, junior—Antonelli was leaning on the counter doing up a parcel which looked like papers—I bought ten copies at 6d. each, which the prisoner, Barberi, sold me—I went into the shop again that afternoon about 2.40 with Riley and saw him seize thirteen copies on the counter—Riley held up the copies and said, "If you sell any more of these you will be prosecuted."
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I spoke English to Barberi—he had no hesitation in selling me the copies.
FRANCIS POWELL (Sergeant). On Saturday, July 29th, between 11 and 13 a.m., I commenced keeping observation on Barberi's shop up to about 5.40 p.m.—I passed the shop several times—I did not see Riley go in—after about 2.45 I saw about twenty persons leave the shop with copies of "L'lnsurrezione"—about 6.30 I went to the shop with Riley and others and saw Barberi—I said to him, "Can I speak with you privately, Mr. Barberi?"—he said, "This is private enough for me. I know who you are"—I said, "I must speak with you"—he came to the back of the shop—I said to him interrogatively, "You have been selling a paper called 'L Insurrezione'"—he said, "Yes, but I have no more of it"—I said, "Who is the editor or printer of this paper?"—he said, "I do not know his name; you will find it in the paper, and your colleague, indicating Sergeant Riley, "has got one, I think"—I said, "But I want to know from you"—he replied, "I will tell you nothing"—I also said, "I want to know who brought the papers for sale"—he walked behind the counter—I said, "Since you will tell me nothing, I will find out for myself," and seeing that he appeared to be trying to hide something with his back, I looked in that direction and saw a number of the papers on a shelf behind the counter as if for sale, with several other lots of different papers—I took them—Barberi tried to prevent me reaching them, but as he saw I was determined to have them, he did not offer any strong resistance—I found that there were forty copies of the paper—I searched the shop and afterwards the rooms—on searching the shop Barberi did not appear to like the trouble the search would cause and said, "Now
I will tell you. Antonelli brought the papers here, and about an hour ago he took them away"—it was then 7.15—he said that Antonelli had brought them at 2 o'clock—I said, "How do you account for the possession of those I have just seized?"—he hesitated an instant and said, "Antonelli brought them all here"—I asked him the price and he said, "Some pay a penny, others twopence, others sixpence and some a shilling. There is no price. Since I was cautioned to-day I have sold very few, perhaps five or six"—I said I had seen several leave the shop—he said, "They were distributed by Antonelli"—there was a man named Ranieri in the shop—he had some papers in his hand—I said, "What have you got there?"—he did not wish me to see them—I said, "I will see," and he let me see them—they were five copies of "L'Insurrezione"—he said he got them from Antonelli—on August 7th a warrant was granted and a communication made to the Southampton police—on August 8th I went to Southampton with Sergeant Macnamara and there found Antonelli detained—I said, "I have a warrant for your arrest"—he smiled and seemed rather pleased to see me, and asked if I was about to take him to London—I said "By and bye"—before I did so I saw Emilie Sala at 17, Council Buildings, Southampton—on her table there I saw a letter, the envelope being addressed to Madam Sala—it was partly opened and "Caro Antonelli" was showing—the letter had an address on it which I took a note of, 87, Patshull Road, Kentish Town—after I saw the letter at Sala's I went back to Antonelli and took him up to London—in the train I said, "Do not you wish to have the warrant read?"—he shrugged his shoulders as if with an air of indifference and said, "Yes, read it"—I did so and he said, "All right, I understand what you have read" or "what you are reading. I do not know whether the immorality or incitation comes to assassination in my paper"—he said that in English—he afterwards said that the paper was printed in Switzerland; the proofs were sent to him by post, he corrected them and returned them by the same means—he did not say how he came to be in Southampton—he said that two comrades came to London on Sunday and he passed the day with them, but he would not say their names—the Southampton police handed me some property—Antonelli was taken to Bow Street police station—on the 9th I went to 87, Patshull Road, and found this trunk (Produced) and took possession of it—I was present when the two prisoners were charged at Bow Street—Antonelli made no reply and Barberi said, "I do not know anything about it. I only put the papers in my shop. Antonelli brought them"—I searched the trunk and found in it a number of documents and papers, including Exhibit No. 1 and a passport in the name of Adolfo Antonelli, which purports to be signed by him—also a number of photographic negatives from which Exhibit a was printed—I was not there when it was done, but I have the negative—it shows the two prisoners—I also found this portrait, which purports to be of Gaetano Bresci, headed July 29th, 1900: "Who, comprehending in his heart all the tears and the hatred of the mothers, wives and children of the massacred by the royal lead in the butchery of Sicily and Milan, taught the cowards how the murderers of the people ought to be punished"—that is in English
—I also found a letter signed Adolfo and addressed to Delfina in the box, and a photograph of Antonelli with the writing on top of it, "To my Delfina, 20th April, 1904"—I found two slips with writing on relating to the circulation of "L'lnsurrezione" in two towns, also a registration of the French domicile of Antonelli, dated July, 1902, and a newspaper called "II Grido della Folla," dated March 18th, 1905, and another copy of the same paper of June 3rd, also a copy of "L'Aurora," dated March 3rd, 1905; also this little red book, with a number of entries relating to money matters.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. These papers describe themselves as being weekly.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. When you are standing on the public side of the counter you might be able to reach across to where the papers were, but it would be inconvenient—it is an ordinary counter—Barberi did not offer me any violent resistance, but pushed against me to prevent me going behind the counter—I did not see the paper when I went in until he attracted my attention by standing in front of them—I could have seen them, but I did not.
FLORENCE CONSIGLIO . I am English and married to Veto Consiglio, who is an Italian—I am now living at 22, Manor Street, Chelsea—last Christmas I was living at 20, Manor Street, Chelsea—my husband was a hairdresser there—we had a vacant room at the back of the shop which my husband permitted Antonelli to live in—he paid rent when he had it and was able to work—he is a stonemason—a woman whom I believed was his wife lived there with him, named Delfina—we left those premises on Saturday, August 5th—on July 30th Antonelli occupied the room until the evening—he was not there at night and never came again—I recognise this trunk as being in his room; it was taken away on the Saturday that I left by Carter, Paterson's man.
EDWIN WILMSHURST . I am a carman employed by Carter, Paterson & Co.—on Friday, August 4th, I collected a box from 20, Manor Street, Chelsea—I was asked to do so by Antonelli on that day and he then asked me to call for two boxes on Saturday, the 5th, and asked me what time I would be round—I said about the same time—he was then standing in the doorway of No. 22—I said, "Shall I come here?"—he said, "No, call at 20"—I called the next day and collected this box—it was addressed—a female put a label on addressed to Kentish Town—I took it to the depot to be forwarded in the ordinary way.
ARTHUR GEORGE GREGORY . I am employed by Carter, Paterson & Co., at their depot at Chalk Farm—I delivered this box on Saturday night, August 5th, to a foreigner, I do not know who, at 29, Patshull Road, Kentish Town—the gentleman signed for it—the name is Corieo.
JOHN CARTER (Detective Sergeant, Southampton Police). On Monday, August 7th, I read a telegram from Scotland Yard containing a description of a person who was wanted—the same day I was in St. Michael's Square, Southampton, and saw Antonelli—I stopped him, told him I was a police officer, and said, "You answer the description of a man wanted in
London for inciting to murder. How long have you been in Southampton?"—he said, "A fortnight"—subsequently he said two days—I took him to the police station and asked him to write his name—he wrote on this piece of paper (Produced), "Alfredo Politi"—I asked him if his name was Antonelli and he stoutly denied it—I said, "You are the man I am looking for," and he afterwards wrote his proper name, "Antonelli Adolfo"—I detained him until the London police came—I saw him write both these pieces of paper.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. I asked him to write his name down when I took him to the station—I had no warrant, but I arrested him then and there.
Re-examined, I asked him to write his name because I had an idea he was telling me lies.
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . For over twenty years I have devoted myself to the study of handwriting, and on many occasions I have given evidence upon the subject in Courts of Justice—I have had submitted to me for comparison these two pieces of writing produced by Carter—I have compared them with the writing upon a number of other documents which were seized by the police—this Exhibit No. 1, I think, is in the same writing as the other documents [MR. THOMPSON admitted that Exhibit No. 1 was in Antonelli's writing]—the letter beginning, "Delfina mia" is in the same writing—the writing on Exhibit 3, which is part of an identification certificate, resembles that of Antonelli, but I will not speak to it with, certainty; the signature on the other side is undoubtedly his—the photograph to Delfina also bears Antonelli's writing.
FRANCIS CARR . I live at 13, Walcot Gardens, Kensington, and am well acquainted with Italian—I have before me prints of "L'Insurrezione" which I have made a translation of—on page 20 of the translation there is a passage, "July 29th, 1900-1905. To Gaetano Bresci, who by the spontaneous sacrifice of his own liberty, freed Italy from that crowned monster Humbert I. To Gaetano Bresci, who alone amongst the general cowardliness knew how to rise and strike the murderer of the starved ones of Italy. To our heroic companion, barbarously murdered in the prison of St. Stephen by the order of the deformed Emanuel III., we send to day—the fifth anniversary of the event—our sincere salutations as fighters with the ardent desire, the firm determination to follow him, as quickly as possible, on the way, by him so brightly marked out—to rebellion. Hail!! The anarchists of the Insurrection"—to the best of my knowledge that is perfectly correct—on page 1 I find the English heading of the paper, "London, July 29th, 1905," and the motto, "The future we are Thought and Dynamite," then "The Insurrection." "A single number issued by a group of anarchists. Price 10 centmi, to go to funds of revolutionary propaganda"—then follows the translation of an article called Insurrection, and on page 4 I find, "It is necessary that, taught by experience of past abortive movements, by all those sad episodes in which the flesh of the children of the people was torn to strips by the bullets in the service of tyranny, the people should be taught that to the arms of the soldier a more intelligent answer should be given than cobblestones"—a little lower down, "To
reach all this we have need of efficacious means and of firm and daring deeds. Those who are willing must arm themselves and be of one accord as to the work to be undertaken, so that when the people, pushed by hunger or by any other reason to enter the public squares to make their usual protests, may be found ready to face the situation and to initiate with decision the action against the class which detains the social riches. Arms and every explosive material must, under these circumstances, be furnished to the people, teaching them by word and example, where and how the employ of such means may have useful results for the revolutionary cause"—on page 5, "Let the monarchy of the thieves of Savoy be removed from the bloody throne of Italy, and with her also fall the monarchies of other States, by the violent action of the people made to rise by the spur of the anarchists. Let us begin by throwing down the first obstacle when we have overthrown the thrones and trodden under foot the altars, then we shall think of the rest"—on page 6 there is, "Procure arms, have at your disposal all the most modern discoveries of science which may secure you the victory in the struggle against the bulwarks of the bourgeoisie tyrants. And when the hour of the final rising will strike, when we shall feel strong and decided, let us descend on the squares, arms in hand. Let the streets be again barricaded. Let dynamite help in the work of destruction and annihilation by being employed in blowing up every edifice which would afford a shelter to any man belonging to the class that reigns and despoils us; and also every man who forsakes our class to become a puppet of the other party. You who are willing to work, wherever the spark may come from, be it from frozen Russia of the gallows and of the knout, from Spain of the modern inquisitor, from the hypocritical Republic France, or from Italy, made miserable and sad by the tyranny of the brigands of Savoy, wherever the mass of workers which rebels against the yoke which oppresses it, wherever begins the resurrection of the people, wherever the insurrection may break out, there with arms in hand we shall be found. (Sd.) Those of the Insurrection"—then follows an article called, "An Open Letter," and on page 9, "If under the leaden yoke of servility, which weighs on all and everything, if in this great and servile tragedy, within which generous hearts are suffering in vain oppressed by the cowardice of the many, if from time to time did not shine the flash of the dagger, or if the sound of the menacing bomb was not heard, or if a handful of men did not hoist the red flag where, being stronger than opposition, they could use the rifle, then indeed would our souls be desperately deprived of every thread of hope"—I have missed out in the translation some words; it should read, "Or if a handful of men did not hoist the red flag where oppression is most atrocious and rather than to delay the use of the rifle, then indeed would our souls be desperately deprived of every thread of hope"—later on I find an article headed, "To thee, O Soldier! "and on page 25 I find, "The army serves to defend the masters, the capitalists, and the idle from the recognised representations of the workmen who have been despoiled, and from the wretched starving people"—on page 26
I find, "On that day, the day of the Insurrection of the people against their tyrants, you know what you must do if you wish us to again consider you as a brother: Desert the ranks—unite yourself to those whom with you have a life of common miseries, and fire—yes, fire—but remember that those on whom you must fire are not those insufficiently covered by rags, but those wearing gold lace and decorations; they are not your brothers, but your tyrants. Soldier, in front of the rising people, before the advancing future, to-day, to-morrow, for ever, on every occasion your sole duty is to desert the ranks and fire on your officers, and on the enemies of the people. Soldier, up with your rifle—grasp the hand which your fellow worker extends to you and shout with us 'Hurrah for the Social Revolution'"—I think "Up with your rifle" means "Pointed in the air"—the next article is headed "War—Country and Social Democracy," and on page 29 I find a paragraph, "And the country? Who knows it? Ask all those dead from hunger and bullets, the homeless, and the wanderers in all lands in search of that bread which their country denied them. They alone can tell you. We pride our selves on being those who have given up all; we know no country we consider as much as a brother a man born in Italy as one born in Russia or Patagonia"—on page 35 I find, "To those comrades who receive this sole number we warmly recommend—to circulate it especially in Italy—to let us know at least with a post-card that they have received it, so that we may know that their address is of service, and to send us at once the amount realised, if the propaganda initiated by us can be useful, and if they wish that we should continue it with other numbers, by pamphlets, open and otherwise, of frankly revolutionary propaganda. For all matters concerning the editing and administration of this number, the address is Adolfo Antonelli, 20, Manor Street, Chelsea, London"—amongst the list of subscribers I find "Southampton, E. Sala, 3, 6"—at the very end of the paper there is a kind of general invitation by the companions, interested in the anarchist propaganda to attend a private meeting on Thursday, August 3rd, in the meeting place of the P.S.I. in Charlotte Street, "The editor of 'L'Insurrezione' will be present from 8.30 to 12.30 of the same evening"—there are two slips relating to the circulation of "L'Insurrezione" through Italy—this (Produced) is a letter to "My Delfina" from Southampton, dated August 6th: "I left this morning at 8 and arrived here at 10.30 and was pleasantly received by these comrades. They tell me that I can easily and quickly embark. Have courage, then, and hope that your Adolfo will be able to get a situation and have you again by his side. For my part I earnestly desire it and anxiously await the moment when I shall be able to embrace you tightly. As these comrades had not sleeping room for me in their house I hired a room at four shillings and although they wished to pay for it I paid myself. I have my meals, and good ones, with them, but I wish, if possible, to pay my own lodging. Perhaps to-morrow I shall go to work as extra hand in a kitchen for a week, and thus be able to earn at least a sovereign. Send me as soon as possible clean handkerchiefs, socks and my shirt; if I can I will buy some things here. I hope that by now
you are perfectly at ease as regards myself, and that you will now eat and be prudent. Write me quickly, reassuring me on this matter, as it strikes me you must suffer. The journey cost me four shillings only, so that I am still rich. The address is Emilie Sala, 17, Council Buildings, Southampton. Wish me well as I wish you well, be calm and accept a good kiss from yours always, Adolfo"—this (Produced) is a portion of a newspaper "II Grido della Folia" dated March 18th, 1905, which reads:". After the tragedy of Monza. bourgeosie—reactionaries and social reformers—sang the praises of the deceased and railed against Bresci. The newspaper 'I'Avanti' said, 'As individualist anarchists are wild beasts they must be treated as wild beasts'. But if Bresci was a wild beast for having killed a man, we do not know what epithet to apply to the Czar."—those are extracts and not in sequence—there is another extract from the same paper, "Under the auspices of a few anarchists in London, will shortly be published the sole number of 'L' Insurrezione' which, putting aside every question of theory and tendency, will wage a vigorous war in favour of revolutionary tactics, preaching the necessity for action and the conceptions which will inform it. Hurry up the orders, accompanied by the relative value, to Companion Adolfo Antonelli, 20, Manor Street, King's Road, Chelsea, London. Ten centesime per copy."
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I am not an Italian—I have had some knowledge of Italian literature—I may have heard of an Italian poet named Rapisardi, but I do not remember it—I do not know that the motto of this paper comes from a collection of poems of his, called "Guistizia"—this is not the first time I have done translations for Scotland Yard—I have not done translations for the Italian Embassy or the Italian Consul-General—I did not make the translation for the Information—I should say "ratico" means "rickety"—I put deformed in the translation, but rickety is deformed—I had no object in making it worse than it is; I simply translated—I do not know how I came to leave out on page 9 of the translation, "If at times the flash of the dagger did not show out, or the fierce menacing sound of the bomb did not sound, or the hand of the audacious man did not raise the red flag where the pressure is most atrocious, where also the mob"—but it is easily done when you have along thing to translate; I do not know the meaning of "shala"—"then our souls would be desperately deprived of every thread of hope."
Re-examined. My mother was an Italian, my father an Englishman—the police came to me as a person qualified to translate Italian. [The COURT said that Mr. Carr had apparently only made two slips, and that the other passages were not apparently questioned.]
COMMENDATORE BALDASSARE CEOLA . I am Inspector-General in the Public Security Department in Italy—on July 29th, 1900, I was Director of the Police of Milan—I received a telegram and a phonogramme and went to Monza at once by special train, where I found a man in custody for having killed the King, and he said his name was Gaetano Bresci—I was the first to speak to him—he told me he had killed the King with a revolver shot—this appears to be a portrait of Bresci—I was present
at his trial on August 29th, when he was convicted of the murder of the King and was sentenced to segregation for life—he was confined in the prison of St. Stephen; he committed suicide in prison.
Cross-examined by MR. THORNE. I was not in Milan in 1898; I was at Rome—I know that in 1898 there was a rising of the people in Milan—I do not know that the number of killed in that rising was more than 400—I heard that two members of the Italian Parliament, Turati and De Andreis, were tried by a military tribunal, and also a priest, Don Albertario, who was Director of the Osservatore Cattolico, for inciting the people to rise—Turati and De Andreis were sentenced to fifteen years' penal servitude and Don Albertario to ten years—in Italy newspapers in free, but the first copy or proof must be given to the Public Prosecutor—I cannot testify that the words in this paper (Produced) are what Bresci said at his trial—when I put the interrogation the first time to him, he said, "I have not killed a man, I have killed a King"—(Paper read): "I have attempted the life of the Chief of the State because, in my opinion, he is responsible for all the victims of the system that he represents to the defenders. As I have said several times, I conceived such a design after the bloody repression of Sicily seven or eight years ago"—there are ten or eleven anarchist papers published in Italy.
[MR. THORNE said that the suggestion was that this prosecution would be impossible in Italy, and that the Italian Government was using the English Courts to do what they could not do in the Italian Courts, MR. MUIR stated that the Italian Government knew nothing about the matter until the witness was communicated with about coming to this country. MR. MUIR desired that the witness should be thanked on behalf of the Government for attending]
[MR. THOMPSON objected to the indictment and contended that no specific person was mentioned in the counts for conspiracy, the term "Sovereigns and rulers" being vague, and submitted that there was no evidence of inciting to kill Victor Emanuel III. of Italy. MR. JUSTICE PHILLIMORE said that he considered the word "Rulers" vague, but "Sovereigns of Europe" was sufficiently definite; that "Rulers" was probably intended to embrace the President of a Republic. He upheld the indictment, but thought that the words "Rulers of Europe" should be left out.]
GUILTY . ANTONELLI— Ten months' hard labour. BARBERI— Nine months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, September 15th, 1905.
Before M. Recorder
MR. ROWSELL Prosecuted.
JERALD WALTER MAY . I am manager to Messrs. Sardy, trading as the Block Light Company of England—our business is the sale of incandescent lights—the prisoner was employed by me as a canvasser—our office is at Snow Hill, City—a canvasser's duty is to put lights on free trial, and to bring us a signed contract agreeing to pay—we send out a
collector—the canvasser is provided with a book, and the words "Pay no accounts to travellers" are printed on the "Agree to pay" slip—I told the prisoner under no circumstances to take money—that was one of the causes of instant dismissal—he was dismissed on Saturday, July 8th, last—on the Friday I gave him his salary, and some commission, £1, which I think was more than was due—he came to me on the Saturday and asked for more money, which I refused, when he was very abusive, and I dismissed him on the spot—I have not received from him, nor has he accounted for any of the sums mentioned in the indictment—I sent round collectors, and found amounts had been collected in many cases.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You had a printed slip of instructions to travellers, and those are on the printed contract which you signed—you signed the contract for a salary and commission [The contract produced provided for the payment of a salary of 5s. per week, and a commission of 1s. for each complete burner sold at 6s. 6d., and 2d. for each extra mantle]—I wrote to you asking you to call and give an explanation, as complaints had been made [Letter dated July 11th produced]—you called and I was obliged to call in an officer, when you went away, and after he had gone you came back again, when the officer returned and told you your remedy was to take another course—I gave no authority to allow you 25 per cent.
HARRY ASH . I am a tobacconist, of 57, High Street, Tooting—on July 3rd the prisoner called upon me and said he was a canvasser of the Block Light Company of England—he left two block lights with me for approval—he called again on July 13th to see whether the lights were satisfactory, and for the money, which I paid him—this is the receipt.
GEORGE HUNT . I am a picture frame maker, of 171, High Road, Streatham—the prisoner left a block light from the Block Light Company somewhere towards the end of June—he called again on July 11th, when I paid him 5s. 9d.—this is the receipt—I was not aware that he had been summarily dismissed.
PERCU TULER . I am an assistant to Arthur Metcalfe, ironmonger, of 304, Brixton Hill—on June 13th a block light was left with me, and on July 15th the prisoner came to be paid for the burner which he had left on June 13th, and I paid him 1s. 1d.—I have not the receipt, but I have a cash bill—he wanted a frying pan at 2s. 9d., which with the 33 1/3 discount on 5s. 9d. for the burner, brought the cash paid him down to 1s. 1d.—later on I had three more lights left—the prisoner came again to our shop about August 24th—I did not know that he had been summarily dismissed in July—he introduced an article called "Electro Plating Paste," and then he asked me for 2s. on account of the three burners he had left—I said "Certainly not"—then he asked if I could let him have another frying pan—I said, "Yes, if you like to pay for it"—he did not pay for it, but I let him have it—I had not then heard anything about his dismissal, but a representative came to me the same night and told me about it, and requested me to attend the Guildhall, and I went—the prisoner told me he had been out all day, and asked me if I could let him have his fare, and I gave him 2d. out of my own pocket
to go home with, as he said he had not any money—I live out from the shop.
Cross-examined. You did not first ask for Mr. Metcalfe—I am governor even when Mr. Metcalfe is there.
ABRAHAM COHEN . I am a publican at 85, High Street, Whitechapel—on June 30th the prisoner left a block light at my premises—I paid him on Saturday, July 8th, 5s. 9d.—this is the receipt—he came about 8 p.m.; I told him I was rather busy, but I would settle for the light, as it was satisfactory.
THOMAS FRICKER . I am a dairyman at 549, Battersea Park Road, S.W.—on July 3rd Newton left two block lights on trial—he called again on July 26th and asked for payment—this is his receipt for 13s.—I then ordered another light—I believed he was still in his firm's employment—he did not tell me he had been summarily dismissed on July 8th, or I should not have paid him—the other light was delivered and I paid him 5s.—1s. 6d. discount was allowed on the whole—I believed he was a traveller for the Block Light Company, and that he had authority to sell and to receive money.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said there was an arrangement between the company and himself before the contract was signed, which he believed still held good; that he was an agent; and not the company's servant; and that it was a matter of account.
GUILTLY on all counts. The prisoner was shown to have been charged with at empted suicide, and to have been confined in a lunatic asylum. To enable Dr. Scott to observe him he was respited till next Sessions.
MR. FITCH Prosecuted.
PHYLLIS KENT . I am a confectioner's assistant at 325, Vauxhall Bridge Road—I know the prisoner and Ralph Stern as customers—on August 24th the prisoner came about 6 p.m. and asked if Mr. Stern had been in—I replied that he had not—he said might he leave a note—I said, "Yes"—I gave him a piece of paper and an envelope—I saw him write a letter—I handed the letter to Mr. Stern when he came in the same day about 9 p.m.
RALPH PETER STERN . I live at 325, Vauxhall Bridge Road—I am an optician and salesman at the Army and Navy Stores, Victor a Street—the prisoner came with Mabel Fyson to live at the same house—I did not then know her name; she came as his wife—I did not know them before then—on August 24th this letter was handed to me by Miss Kent—this envelope he had handed me in a friendly way with his other address on it, on the 20th, I think—I had only seen him on the 20th—he said, "You can write to me if you like" [The letter charged the witness with going into his wife's bedroom, demanded £5, and threatened exposure; the envelope given to witness was addressed "Jack Beveridge, Motor Car Driver, 68, Kinnerton Street, Knightsbridge"]—there is no foundation for the suggestion
made against me—I had undergone an operation—about 10 o'clock I went into the room, not for any improper purpose.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he found the prosecutor with the woman he was living with; that the prosecutor promised him £5, and as he could not depend on his promises, he wrote the letter in jest, but he had no intention to blackmail.
GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.
MR. FITCH Prosecuted.
FREDERICK ARTHUR ROBERTS . In August last I was staving at the Golden Cross Hotel, Charing Cross—on August 10th, about 9 p.m., I met Mabel Fyson in Piccadilly—she was a stranger—I took her to supper—subsequently I drove her in a cab about the West End—I parted from her about 11.45 p.m. at my hotel—I had £15 in gold in the hip pocket of my trousers or about £17 altogether; also a watch, and a chain, and a cigar cutter, attached to the chain—the watch was of rolled gold, worth about £5, and £3 the chain—when I got back to the hotel I missed the watch, chain, a cheque book, and a bag—I had spent in her company roughly about £2 after 9 o'clock, and during supper at a West End hotel, near the Pavilion, in Coventry Street—the gold was in a London & South Western Bank bag—I had silver and copper in my trousers pocket—all these things were missing when I got back to my hotel—I had not given them to her, I gave her a sovereign—my cheque book was in the same pocket as the money—I never took it out of my pocket—it was removed feloniously—I never felt it go—the money in my other trousers pocket was not taken—I had spare cash I used for payment for the supper, etc., and a sovereign—I next saw these articles when the police showed them to me—when I had supper I was not drunk—I drank whiskey and soda—I had not been drinking during the day more than what I had had at lunch; I had taken very little during the day.
Cross-examined by Fyson. It is not true that I asked you to go in a cab with me, took you to Waterloo Station, and then to an hotel, and had connection with you—I went up to the bedroom and came down sober—I took a room at a West End hotel—I cannot say whether it was where we had supper—I had not slept there the previous night—I took the bedroom when you were present—I went upstairs, and you told the head porter to say you had gone away, and were coming back again—I had no luggage—this is a licensed house—I did not give you seven quid besides giving tips.
by Beveridge—I recognised him at the Westminster Police Court when he was before the Magistrates.
HENRY JONES (Detective B.) I arrested Fyson on September 2nd outside the Westminster Police Court when Beveridge was brought up on remand—I charged her with stealing the watch, chain, cigar cutter, and the other articles and money that have been mentioned—she said, "The man was drunk; he gave them to me. The cheque book he left in the cab, and I gave them to Jack, and he pawned them," meaning the watch and chain—the cheque, book was found among her luggage at their lodgings at Vauxhall Bridge Road, and the two pawn tickets on Beveridge—Fyson has not said before to-day that she found the watch and chain with the cheque-book, and the bag, with £3 in it, in the cab—I told her there was alleged to have been stolen a gold watch and chain, and a cheque-book, and about £15 in money—I did not know where they had been taken from; the matter had been reported to another division altogether—the police have made inquiries into Fyson's history, and she has been reported to be of weak intellect—we communicated with the police of the district she belonged to.
Cross-examined by Fyson. You said nothing about the money—I made a note at the time.
Beveridge, in his defence, said that Fyson gave him the property, and said the gentleman had given it to her, and that he was drunk.
Fyson, in her defence, said that the prosecutor was very drunk, and after taking her about and paying tips and expenses, gave her £7, and that she found the other things in the cab, and that she gave them to "Jack" in the morning.
GUILTY . BEVERIDGE— Twelve months' hard labour, to run concurrently with five years' penal servitude in the last case. FYSON— Six month' hard labour.
MARY JANE CROSSMAN . I am a widow, of 135, Newington Causeway, and let lodgings—the prisoner lodged with me the early part of last year for about twelve weeks till June 11th or 18th—she said she was a waitress at Spiers and Ponds'—I had to turn her out about the middle of June—I received these post-cards last year—I saw her write her name on this paper (Produced) so many times to "bring her along a bit"—I believe these post-cards are her writing. [These were addressed to Mrs. Crossman, 135, Newington Causeway, S.W., and were]: 14th July. "A neighbour in Newing Causeway. You dirty orr, you have had 3 husbands, and now you want to kill another one; that is the way you live by robbing poor girls of their brushes and steel bags and peddicotts and chimes; no wonder you live without work I have heard all about the layde; I have known her from 15 years of age, you dirty beast." "22 July. And you having yourself New-cross. You dirty thief, look out the police are on your track fro having
milk under fals per tenses, telling the milkman the lodgeger hav garn." "Aug. 30. New Cross. You dirty Old Bitch, you have killed 3 husbands and now you Want to Kill another one; I do not forget the way you trited my poor childer and me, and when I hear the way you have robed that poor young lady Brushes and waring apperal this is what you been used to." And "Feb. 14-05. Now Look out for yourself, for the Police are on your track for stealing that young laidy closes and her shalard bags and also her little clock. You have got read of three husbands, now you want to git rid of another one. Neighbour of the Causeway"—after the second post-card I applied for a warrant for her arrest—a tremendous long time elapsed before she could be found—I also saw her write this telegram, addressed to Mr. Atkins, the manager for Spiers and Ponds', at the Criterion Theatre, where she was employed to sell programmes: "For God's sake forgive Lydia."
MARGARET CHAPMAN . I am the wife of Thomas Chapman, of 1, Orient Street, St. George's Road, Southwark—the prisoner lodged with us in the beginning of November, 1903, till we gave her notice early in 1904—she was with us about four months—she has come into the kitchen, borrowed pen, ink and paper, and sat at my table and written, but she was a very bad speller—I would not like to say I know her writing—she came to my house with a married man, and these letters were written to different men.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I cannot write. I am no scholar."
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, said that she did not write the post-cards that she could only write her name; that she had had inflammation of the brain, and St. Vitus' Dance, and had been unable to learn; that even on a washing day she had asked the children to put down the items when she came out of the hospital after an operation for appendicitis; that the pen and ink she borrowed of Mrs. Chapman was for a Mr. Hopkins to write a letter for her.
Evidence for the Defence.
ELIZA CURTIS . I am a Police Court Missionary at Tower Bridge—the prisoner came to our Court some time ago and complained that her clothing had been detained by Mrs. Crossman, who had refused to give them up, and at the Magistrate's request I asked her to write out a list, but she could not write, and I had to make out the list for her—I think she got the clothes—Mrs. Crossman brought me a lot of things—the prisoner has made a statement to me about the post-cards, but not that she has written them herself, and I would ask that she be allowed to make that statement now.
The prisoner: "What I meant about robbing me is that she tried to tread me down, and I told my trouble to a friend, somebody who had lived with me, and whether she has written them I do not know."
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, September 15th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PURCELL and MR. A. DUNCAN Prosecuted; MR. WILDEY WRIGHT Defended.
GEORGE FOX HAMILTON . I am the licensee of the Phene Arms, Phene Street, Chelsea—about 7 p.m. on Friday, May 19th, I was in my bar parlour with my wife when I saw through the glass panels of the door the prisoner walk downstairs towards the kitchen—I went to the top of the staircase and shouted to him, "What the devil are you doing down there?"—he turned round, and fell down the remaining part of the stairs—he did not make any reply—he afterwards said that he was sorry, but he had made a mistake—I told him he had no right there, and to get out of it—the next thing was I received this plaint note (Produced) for injuries received, and I attended at the Brompton County Court on July 25th—I heard the prisoner give evidence, when he was afterwards cross-examined by my solicitor, who asked him if he had ever been in trouble, and he said, "No"—being hard pressed, he admitted he had done two months for felony at the Middlesex Sessions in 1887—he was asked if he had been sentenced to two months at the Westminster Police Court, which he denied—he was then asked if he had been convicted in 1891 at the North London Sessions, when he had got nine months, and he said, "No"—he was then asked if he had been in trouble in 1892, when he had got sixteen months for stealing lead at the North London Sessions, and he said, "No"—he was asked if he had been convicted at the North London Sessions at all, and he said, "No"—he also said he had never been in trouble nor in prison since 1887—the case was completed that day, and there was a verdict for the prisoner—it was tried by a Jury.
Cross-examined. There was a verdict of £40 and £31 16s. 6d. taxed costs, which money has been paid into Court and remains there—I cannot tell you what Mr. Humphreys, my solicitor, has done with regard to applications for a new trial—I believe at the conclusion of the case my solicitor asked for a new trial and the Judge declined to grant one—on a subsequent day another application was made by counsel on my behalf, but that was refused—I believe it is already settled that I am to have a new trial—I am desirous of obtaining one—I know I should get my money back if there were a new trial and the verdict were in my favour—I am here to get a conviction against the prisoner for perjury in order that I may get a new trial—I do not know if I will get one—the main object of this prosecution is to prove that the prisoner was on my premises for an unlawful purpose, and to get a conviction—I swore in my information that I heard the prisoner swear he had not been convicted on December 29th, 1892—I believe it was December 19th—I have not refreshed my memory since—I
have not got any copy of the local newspapers containing a report of this trial—I have not seen a copy of the evidence taken before the Magistrate since the prisoner's commital—my chief business is not that of a bookmaker; I was a bookmaker before I came to the Phene Arms two years ago—I do a few commissions for a few of my old clients—I have not since 1891 published a book of rules for guidance in betting—I have a code address lasting till February next to take a commission if I went into the National Club, Brompton Road, and any other purpose that I might want—the National Club is an all-round club and I have not been there for just about a month—I know my solicitor put to the witness that he was convicted in December, but the exact date I could not fix—the name of Wade was mentioned, but I cannot remember whether my solicitor asked him if he had been convicted with a man of that name—I know he was not convicted with a man named Wade—I cannot explain why his name was mentioned—I cannot swear that it was not in connection with the December, 1892, conviction—I gave the list of the prisoner's former convictions to my solicitor; I got them from an ex-inspector—I do not remember saying anything about the January, 1891, conviction before the Magistrate; I may have done; I knew about it—I should have mentioned it if I had been asked, but I was not asked—I am positive that December was the month he was convicted in 1892—I said before the Magistrate, "I do not remember the month exactly, but I believe it was in December," but I corrected myself afterwards and said, "It was in December, 1892; I cannot tell you why I said just now I believed it was in December, 1892."
Re-examined. I certainly do not do betting of any kind on my premises—I want to show by this prosecution that I was not responsible for the prisoner's injuries.
ALBERT WILLIAM SCRASE . I am an accountant, of 8, Sarsfield Road, Balham—I attended the Brompton County Court on July 15th as an expert in drawing plans—I drew plans of Mr. Hamilton's premises for the purposes of the action—I heard the prisoner give evidence and cross-examined as to his past by Mr. Humphreys, Mr. Hamilton's solicitor—he was asked if he had ever been in trouble and he said, "No"—he was asked if he had ever been convicted of any offence and he said, "No"—he denied being convicted in December, 1887, but after repeated questions he seemed to recollect it—he denied being convicted in January, 1890, at the Westminster Police Court, when he got three months, in 1891 at the North London Sessions, nine months, and in 1892, at the same Sessions, sixteen months for stealing lead—he was asked if he had ever been convicted at the North London Sessions, and he said, "No"—the last question Mr. Humphreys put to him was whether he had been convicted since 1887, and he totally denied it—Mr. Moyses put the same question to him in the re-examination, and he emphatically denied it.
Cross-examined. There was a body of evidence given for the plaintiff showing negligence on the part of the defendant, Hamilton, and that the passage was dark—I was there for the purpose of giving evidence with regard to the situation of the door and so forth—I am sure that the
dates January, 1890, January, 1891, and December, 1892, were mentioned—when you asked me before I did not recollect them for the moment; they have come Since to my memory—I swear I have always remembered them—I could not answer at the Police Court; I was a bit flurried—the two dates I remembered at the Police Court were 1887 and 1892—I do not know what has refreshed my memory since.
CHARLES EDWARDS . I am the licensee of the Duke of Cambridge, Chelsea—I was present at the Brompton County Court on July 25th when I heard the whole of the case of Rolfe v. Hamilton—I heard Mr. Humphreys ask the prisoner whether he had ever been in trouble and he said, "No," and when he asked point blank whether he had ever been in prison he again said, "No"—he was asked if he had been convicted in 1887, and he admitted it—he was asked if he had been convicted some time in December, 1891, and he said, "What has that to do with this case?"—he denied ever having been in trouble since 1887—I do not think any other sentence was put to him—I was not especially interested in the case.
Cross-examined. I am a friend of Mr. Hamilton's of many years' standing—I saw him there—I was first approached last Monday with reference to giving evidence here—there has been nothing to call my attention to this case from July 25th to last Monday.
Cross-examined. I gave the date of December 19th, 1892—I know it was December.
JAMES SMITHERHAM (54 B.R.) On January 14th, 1890, I was present at the Westminster Police Court when the prisoner was sentenced to three months' hard labour for being on enclosed premises for an unlawful purpose.
Cross-examined. I swore at the Police Court that it was January 14th, 1890—if it was February 14th in my depositions, it is the clerk's mistake.
Re-examined. I am quite certain that he had three months' at the Westminster Police Court.
GEORGE PAINTER (13 X.) I was present on January 19th, 1891, at at the North London Sessions and produce a certificate of the Clerk of the Peace that the prisoner was convicted for stealing on December 20th, 1890, 2 cwt. of lead and sentenced to nine months' hard labour.
FREDERICK BILLINGS (303 B.) I was present at the North London Sessions on December 19th, 1892, when the prisoner was sentenced to sixteen months' hard labour for stealing 5 cwt. of lead, and I produce the certificate of that conviction (Produced).
ALBERT FERRETT (Detective-Sergeant B.) At 12.45 p.m. on August 2nd I went with another officer to 48, Flood Street, where I saw the prisoner—I told him we were police officers and I held a warrant for his arrest, which I read to him—he replied, "Oh, is that all? We will see"—on the way to the station in general conversation he said, "I know I have been convicted, but I think it is a shame that a man's convictions
should be brought against him in a case like this"—at the station he was charged.
Cross-examined. I have made enquiries as to his character since his last conviction and I find that he has been married for about twelve years—I cannot say that he has lived an absolutely honest life since that time, but I have found nothing against him; the people where he has been working speak very well of him and he has worked for highly respectable firms.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he admitted having been convicted in 1887; that the solicitor cross-examining him had read out the other convictions so quickly that he could not follow them; that he was finally asked whether he had been convicted with a man named Wade on January 19th, 1892, which, not being the fact, he denied; that if the right date, December 19th, had been put to him and if he had understood he was being asked with reference to the 1890 and 1891 convictions, he would certainly have owned to them.
GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury. Three months' hard labour.
MR. H. E. M. YOUNG Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH COLE . I am the wife of Robert Cole, of 50, Zetland Street—on the morning of August 9th I was walking along Aldgate when I felt somebody's hand in my pocket—I turned round quickly and caught hold of the prisoner's arm—there was nobody near but him—I told him he had taken my purse and he said he had not got it—I held him for a little, but he struggled and got a way—a gentleman came from the opposite direction, picked up my purse from the ground, and gave it to me—I did not see the prisoner throw it away—several people ran after him and brought him back—I gave him in charge—my husband was about two yards in front of me when my purse was taken; he did not see it.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You showed me one hand when I caught your arm; I did not see the other one as I was holding it down—I did not see my purse in your hands—your hand was right down against my pocket—I never saw you stooping down.
EVAN BROWN DREW . I am a cooper—on August 9th I was in Aldgate coming along the Fenchurch Street end to get to the right-hand side of the pavement, when six yards away I saw the prosecutrix put her hand behind her and seize the prisoner's hand—she said, "You have got my purse"—he twisted himself out of her grasp and bolted down Michel Street—I gave chase and caught him—he said, "For God's sake, give me a chance, old man; I have got nothing"—I said, "Come back and see the lady"—on the way back I met the prosecutrix's husband and I handed the prisoner over to him—when I first saw him he was walking by the side of the prosecutrix.
By the COURT. They were coming towards me—there was nobody between them and myself—there were several people about, but not close to them.
Cross-examined. I did not see the purse in your hand—I did not see you with your hand in the prosecutrix's pocket—I did not see you throw anything down.
GEORGE BENNETT (704 City). The prisoner was given into my custody on August 9th, charged with stealing a purse—when I took him to the prosecutrix, who immediately recognised him, he said that he knew nothing whatever of the purse—I took him to the Minories police station, where he was charged, and said he knew nothing whatever of it, and that it was some other boys that were near him.
Cross-examined. The prosecutrix said in the street she would not charge you, but her husband insisted on her doing so.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not steal that lady's purse. I happened to pass by several persons walking into Leaden-hall Street and when a young fellow suddenly turned round and dashed into me, we both fell over. He did not seem to take any notice, so I turned my head to see who it was; no sooner did I turn my head than the lady catches hold of me and accuses me of stealing her purse. I told her she had made a mistake and showed her my hands. She began to shout and I was frightened I should get locked up for nothing, so I ran away. When I was brought back the lady said the gentleman picked her purse up in an opposite direction and gave it to her. The constable asked her to charge me and she said she did not want to, two or three times. The man who caught me said he was there when the lady accused me of stealing her purse, but he said he never saw me with no purse, and he ran after me when he saw me run away. He caught me and said he never saw me drop a purse, but he was close to me; and the lady herself says she never saw me with her purse. She suspected me because I was closest to her. I never had the purse in my possession."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was going down Aldgate when he passed by several persons; that a man turned round suddenly and dashed into him; that on turning his head the prosecutrix accused him of stealing a purse and, on his denying it, screamed; that having just done three months in prison, he thought he was going to be arrested for nothing and ran away.
Evidence in Reply.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Worship Street Police Court on May 8th, 1905, in the name of Reuben. Seven previous convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard labour.
MR. HARRIS Prosecuted; MR. METHVEN Defended.
tobacco and sweets—it has a small window with a small kitchen at the back and a sitting room in the front—a little before 4 p.m. on August 3rd a man came in and ordered a lemon squash, which I gave him—he paid for it and went out—two other men then came in—one ordered a large lemon squash and the other a small one, which I served them—they then had a 2d. cigar each and a pennyworth of cake—they paid with a sovereign—after that one of them asked for another bottle of lemon squash each—I was opening one when one of them went out, leaving the one man only in the shop—he returned just as I was opening the second bottle—he said, "Do not open it yet. I should like a clean glass. I have dropped a crumb or two in this and I do not like it"—I said I would wash it, and took it to the kitchen to do so—the moment I got in there he was in there too, and grasped my mouth with his hand, so that I could not make a noise—the other one then came in and they tied my hands with this piece of green cord (Produced), and with this piece of white cord (Produced) they tied my feet—there was no cord like it about the shop—I did not notice anything put over my mouth but the man's hand—they said they would cut my throat if I did not tell them where my money was and I said, "I will, if you let me free"—they went away and left me bound on the floor—I reached and got a knife and cut the cord round my ankles, and freed myself—I went out into the shop and into the parlour, and missed a sovereign that I had left on the parlour table; it was not the sovereign that the men had given me—I found this piece of calico (Produced) hanging on the inside handle of the door, which was open—I think the prisoner is the man who came in first and went out.
Cross-examined. I have never seen him before in my shop—when I was asked to identify him from a number of other men I at once picked him out, saying I believed he was the man—I never saw him with the other two men and there was no apparent connection between them—I should not have so much difficulty in recognising the other two men—I did not tell them where my money was—after I picked out the prisoner I was shown some men two or three times, as they had someone on suspicion.
Re-examined. The two men were in the shop about fifteen or twenty minutes altogether.
JAMES GILLINGS . I am eighteen next birthday, and am a paper-boy employed by the "Westminster Gazette"—I go up with a cart to Westminster Bridge, and leave the man there to do my round and meet him again at Vauxhall between 4.20 and 4.30 p.m.—on August 3rd I called with the cart at Miss Fairchild's shop to deliver a paper—I found the door shut and I knocked, but there was no answer—I looked through the glass and saw the prisoner behind the counter—I knocked again and called out to him, "Westminster"—he opened the door, and I asked him if he would take the paper, which he did—I asked him if there were any changes, which mean papers left over from the day before, and he said, "No"—I said it would be 1 1/2 d., and he paid me—the 1 1/2 d. was for two papers, the other one I was going to leave later on—I then went back to the cart, and just as I got there the prisoner came out, holding a black leather bag, with two other men—there was a lady customer outside who went in, and the
men then ran round the corner—about a week afterwards I went to the police station and picked out the prisoner from a number of other men as the man I had seen in the shop and come out.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before—he is wearing the same clothes now as he was when I identified him, and when I saw him in the shop—he took the 1 1/2 d. from a pocket on the right-hand side of his coat [The witness went to the dock and examined the prisoner's coat]—he has not got one now, but I am almost certain he took it from his side.
Re-examined. His coat was open.
ROSE BURTON . I live at 11, Ponsonby Terrace, Grosvenor Road—about 4.30 p.m. on August 3rd I went to Miss Fairchild's shop to buy a paper and some sweets, when I found the door closed, and I could not open it—I did not know it was locked—I was coming away when the "Westminster Gazette" man told me there was someone inside—I thought he meant Miss Fairchild, so I waited—I went to the door and knocked again, but no one came—I waited a few minutes and knocked again—looking through the window I could see a man drinking in the shop, so I knocked again rather impatiently—after a few seconds he came and opened the door—to my surprise he unlocked it—no sooner had he got out than two more men came out and bumped against me—I said, "Be careful or you will knock me down"—the last man muttered something and shut the door; in doing so he shut in a piece of calico which caught on to the handle—I saw them turn round the corner—I opened the door and went into the shop, when I heard Miss Fairchild moaning—I called to her, but she did not answer me—I went outside and got two men to help me—on our return Miss Fairchild had freed herself and was sitting down—I cannot swear to it, but I think the prisoner is one of the men.
Cross-examined. I did not notice a black bag at all—I had never seen the prisoner before—the first man that came out had a handkerchief up to his mouth; I could only see his eyes—the man whom I think is the prisoner was the second man who came out—I did not see his face at all; I saw his back—I identify him by his walk; he walks differently to any other man that I know—at the police station I said I thought he was the man—I did not see him walk then, but I saw him walk to and from the Westminster Police Court.
By the COURT. Having seen his walk, I should say that I think he is the man—I should describe it as throwing one foot forward more than the other; it seemed to be more of a habit than lameness.
Re-examined. I am quite certain that the prisoner walks in the same way as the man I saw on August 3rd.
ROBERT FULLER (Detective Inspector A.) I arrested the prisoner on August 19th, and took him to the police station—he was placed amongst a number of other men, and Gillings picked him out—Miss Fairchild was not sure about him.
By the COURT. I have not noticed anything very unusual about his walk.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a horse-backer for bookmakers; that on August 3rd, which was Goodwood Cup Day, he took
an excursion train between 8.30 a.m. and 9 a.m. from London Bridge, arriving at Chichester about 12 p.m., where he took a brake, on which were hid friends, Charles Payne, a fruit-seller, whom he knew by the name of Barney, and a friend of Payne's, arriving at the racecourse about 12.30 p.m.; that he returned between 6 and 6.30 p.m., arriving home at 9.30 p.m.; and that he had taken no part in this outrage, it being a case of mistaken identity.
Evidence for the Defence.
CHARLES PAYNE . I am a commission agent—I remember the Goodwood Cup Day, and I went down to Goodwood on that day by train to Chichester and from Chichester by brake to the racecourse—I am positively certain that I saw the prisoner on that brake—I saw him on the racecourse, and the last I saw of him would be about 4.30 p.m.
Cross-examined. I think it would be the 8.30 train I went down by—I have known the prisoner for some years, but only the last four or five months to speak to—I did not come back with him.
Cross-examined. There were four or five of his friends on the brakes, but I do not know many of them.
WILLIAM JOSEPH BUNTER . I am a commercial traveller—on August 3rd I went to Goodwood racecourse by brake, where I saw the prisoner on the front—I am positive it was he, because he gave me a tip for a horse.
Cross-examined. I had not met him before that day—I overheard him tell Payne the name of a horse—last Sunday night Payne asked me if I remembered the prisoner—I recognise Read as a man who got up with a basket of fruit.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, September 16th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. HUTTON and MR. JENKINS Prosecuted; MR. NICHOLSON Defended.
GUILTY of carnally knowing the girl, who was between the age of thirteen and sixteen. Eighteen months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, September 16th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
675. JOHN RICHARD LOCKWOOD (29) , Attempting to carnally know Annie Caton, a girl above the age of thirteen years, and under the age of sixteen years. Second count. Indecently assaulting her. Third count. Indecently assaulting her and occasioning her actual bodily harm.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.
GUILTY on all three counts. Two years' hard labour on each count, to run concurrently.
676. JOSEPH SWANWICK GARNER (53), GEORGE WILLIAM BRIDGMAN (41), and MARIAN TABOR (60) , Obtaining an agreement in writing for letting 51, Clifton Gardens, Maida Vale. Second count. Conspiring to fraudulently induce the landlord of that house to sign an agreement.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. OVEREND Defended Garner; MR. HUTTON and MR. LYONS Defended Tabor, and MR. PURCELL Defended Bridgman.
EDWIN GRIMLEY . I am agent to Mr. Tildersley, of 108, Great Western Road, Paddington—he was the trustee of 24, Portsdown Road, of which Mrs. Tabor became the tenant at Michaelmas, 1896—she occupied it up to September, 1902, when my connection with the premises ended—the rent was £63 a year, and I think it was a five or seven years' agreement—I went to the house from time to time, when I saw her, her daughter, Miss Tabor, her husband, and occasionally Garner, who was a lodger there, I imagine—Mr. Tabor was an invalid to a great extent; he was very infirm—Mrs. Tabor told me she had lodgers—the rent was paid up to 1902 by quarterly instalments, sometimes in arrear—in 1902 the property was assigned by the trustees to a person who ultimately became entitled to it.
Cross-examined by MR. OVEREND. I do not remember Mrs. Tabor telling me that Garner was a lodger—he told me himself that he resided in the house—I saw him on one occasion early in the morning at his bedroom door, and he told me it was his room.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I usually want to see Mrs. Tabor for rent—so far as I had to do with it, the rent was paid up ultimately—there seemed a difficulty at times to raise the money.
CHARLES CLARK . I am a house agent, of 49, Maida Vale, and was in partnership with a Mr. Joslin—he and I acted in partnership as agents for 24, Portsdown Road, from September, 1902—Mrs. Tabor was the tenant from whom I was instructed to collect the rent, but I was unsuccessful in doing so—the Christmas rent was due at the end of that year, and I got instructions to distrain in February, 1903, for that rent—a man having been put in possession, Garner called on me and said he was a lodger of Mrs. Tabor and the goods belonged to him, and asked me to withdraw the restraint at once—he said that Mrs. Tabor's goods had been seized under a bill of sale, and there was nothing there belonging to her in the house; all the goods were his—in consequence of that I withdrew the man from possession—on that Garner and Mrs. Tabor jointly agreed to give up possession of the house—after three weeks from that date, which they asked for, they did so, just before the March quarter—they asked that we should pay the Queen's taxes, but that the owner refused to do—I did not get any rent up to Christmas, or after—substantially, I lost six months' rent, £31 10s.
Cross-examined by MR. OVEREND. I know nothing at all about what was taken under the bill of sale—I saw the goods that were claimed by Garner; they were worth something between £15 to £20—they did not look as if they had been made by himself.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. Garner proposed, on behalf of Mrs. Tabor, that if we withdrew the restraint they would give up possession.
SAMUEL EVERETT CAYFORD . I am a certificated bailiff, of 42, Glengale Road, Kilburn—I took possession of 24, Portsdown Road, in February, 1903—I saw Mrs. Tabor, who told me that she had no goods of her own there, only what I saw in the two rooms downstairs—Miss Tabor took me through the house and showed me the goods belonging to the lodger, who they said was Garner—the next morning I saw Garner and advised him to see Mr. Clarke, his landlord—he told me he was an accountant and took me into a room upstairs in the front of the house, and showed me his table, typewriter, and account books.
JOSEPH JOSE NEVILLE . I am a house agent, of Broadway Street, High Street, Barnes—in May, 1902, I was agent for 28, Elmbank Gardens, rent £40 a year—Mrs. Bridgman called first with reference to it and afterwards Bridgman, who wanted to take the house—he gave his address as 24. Portsdown Road, Maida Vale, and as a reference his present landlord, J. S. Garner, 11 Mecklenburgh Square, Doughty Street, W.—I communicated with Garner and he eventually became the tenant.
Garner and Tabor here PLEADED GUILTY to conspiring to defraud. Count 17.
WILLIAM HYEM . I live at 64, Hanwell Road, Wandsworth, and am a clerk to the owner of 28, Elmbank Gardens—in consequence of a communication I received from Mr. Neville, I wrote this letter [Ex. 9, addressed to "J. Gardiner, Esq.," stating that Bridgman was about to take a house at £40 a year and asking him whether he considered that he was in a position to pay such a rent, and teas a desirable tenant]—I got in reply this letter (Ex. 20 from "J. S. Gamer," stating that he had known Bridgman for a very considerable period, and had found him a very desirable tenant; that he was sorry to lose him, and he was certainly in a position to pay £40 a year]—this agreement was then entered between Mr. Harber and George John Bridgman, that he should become a tenant for three years at £40 a year (Ex. 21)—it began from midsummer, 1902, and the rent was to be paid quarterly—the Michaelmas quarter became due and was not paid, nor was any rent paid at all—no distraint was put in—on December 20th I received a letter signed, "M. Ellen Bridgman," enclosing the keys (Ex. 22), with which we re-obtained vacant possession of the house—they went off with two quarters' rent owing, £20.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. In the letter Mrs. Bridgman stated that owing to unfortunate circumstances, over which they had no control, they regretted they had to vacate the house, but as soon as Bridgman's, business which he had in hand was completed he would pay the rent due on his return to London.
TREVOR EDMOND DOWSE . I am the owner of 80, The Grove, Hammersmith, and live at 3, Westwick Gardens, Shepherd's Bush—at the end of 1902, being desirous of letting my house, I put it into the hands of Mr. Wright, an estate agent in that district—I was introduced by him to Bridgman, who gave his address as 24, Portsdown Road, and giving as his reference Mr. Garner, of 24, Portsdown Road, who, he said, was
his landlord, and Mrs. Vassell, of the Royal Victoria public-house, Old Ford—I went to see Garner—it is so long ago that I cannot say whether it is the prisoner, but I believe he is the Garner that I saw—he told me Bridgman was living and that he paid his rent and so on—this agreement was then entered into between "William Bridgman" and myself (Ex. 5) for one year at £55 a year from January 3rd, 1903—he went in a few days before that—at the end of June, 1904, he was one year's rent in arrear—he paid me the first six months' rent very promptly and the second quarter's not quite so promptly—for the next four quarters' rent in arrear I took two charges from him over Mrs. Bridgman's interest in a public-house in Mile End Road, one in March, 1904, and the other in June before the last quarter became due—I had been pressing him for the rent—he paid me no cheque or cash for rent after July, 1903—the amount of the charges were £55 and in October, 1904, they were redeemed by a man named Pannett, and I recovered £35—I lost £20 therefore—his tenancy of my house ceased on June 25th, 1904—I have never seen Garner there, nor anybody of the name of Coombs.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I took the £35 in settlement—I understood that Bridgman's occupation was buying and selling public houses—I understood that he was in difficulties and could not pay the rent—he gave my name as a reference and I wrote saying exactly what occurred.
GEORGE PEARCEY . I am an estate agent, of 85, Maida Vale—in February, 1903, Mrs. Tabor came to me about taking a house and afterwards Garner, who gave me some references, one of which was, "G. P. Bridgman, c/o Innes Bailey, 16, John Street, Adelphi," who, he said, was his landlord—I wrote to him and got this letter [Ex. 2, stating that he had known Garner for some considerable time and had always found him honest and straightforward; that he had paid his rent regularly and should he sorry to lose him. Signed, G. W. Bridgman]—we had two other references, and we accepted him as a tenant—if Bridgman's reference had been unsatisfactory, we should not have done so; we regard landlords' references as the most important—it was let for five years at £80 a year—he paid no rent and we took proceedings for ejectment—there were no goods to restrain on—he was there in March and it was August before we could get him out—I have seen Mrs. Tabor at the house.
FRANK NORMAN EVE . I am a house agent, of 10, Union Court, Old Broad Street—Mr. William Eve owns 71, Brondesbury Villas, and I acted for him in letting that house in September, 1903—Garner, giving the name of Brook, called upon me—he gave me his address as 80, The Grove, Hammersmith, and described himself as a mining engineer, practically retired—he gave as his reference "G. S. Bridgman, Richmond Arms, Blundell Street, Caledonian Road," who, he said, was his landlord—I wrote a letter, on the fly leaf of which there are a series of questions for him to answer [Ex. 6, read, stating that Mr. W. Brooks had been in his house about five years at £60 per annum; that he had always paid regularly; that he had found him a very responsible and careful tenant; that he was a professional engineer of some sort and that his agreement had termined, for which he (Bridgman) was sorry. Signed, "W. Bridgman." Bridgman
said that he admitted the signature, but denied having typewritten the answer to the questions]—on that I accepted Brooks as a tenant for three years at £55 a year—this is the agreement, signed "Walter Brooks"—his rent became due at Christmas, 1903—he did not pay, in consequence of which I instructed Messrs. Mead, Baker & Co. to distrain—he did not give up possession till May, 1904, when we had obtained proceedings for his ejectment—I do not remember what the costs came to in the High Court—we got nothing from the restraint.
[Bridgman here stated that he was GUILTY of conspiring to defraud, Count 17].
GARNER, who received a good character— Two months in the Second Division. TAYLOR— Four days' imprisonment. BRIDGMAN, who received a good character— One month in the Second Division.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, September 16th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. METHVEN Defended.
JOHN THOMAS MALTBY . I am a corn merchant, of 3, Brookfield Road, South Hackney—in June of this year the prisoner came to me, and I entered into a verbal arrangement with him that he should sell hay and corn for me on commission, the orders to be brought to me, executed and invoiced by me—he was to collect at the end of the month after the bill was delivered, and hand the payments over to me—for that he was to receive 1 1/2 d. per quarter for oats, and 2s. 6d. for each load of hay of from thirty-five to forty trusses, when the customers paid the accounts—on July 8th and 18th I received two orders from Mr. Izzard amounting to £16 4s. 2d.—I sent the invoice to him at the end of the month with my name upon it—on July 12th the prisoner gave me another order to the amount of £12 to Mr. Bruce, in consequence of which I supplied the goods and sent the invoice—on July 17th I received another order from the prisoner for £4 3s. 9d. from Mr. James—that was executed, and I sent him the invoice—on June 22nd I executed an order to the amount of £10 1s. 7d. to Mr. John Wood, and sent him the invoice—I have never received any of the money either from or through the prisoner—on August 8th I received from the prisoner a cheque for £4, and a note saying he would see me the following day, Wednesday—it was in his writing—I was at the seaside at the time, and, thinking it was of no consequence, the note was torn up—between that and August 11th I wrote to him two post-cards asking him for immediate attendance at my place, but they were not replied to, nor did he call—on August 11th I went to his house and saw him—I asked him the reason he did not come to see me—he made no satisfactory reply—he said he declined to go into business that night—I then asked him whether he had received any money, and I went through each of the four accounts with him—he said he had received no money from either of them—I told him that I had called upon one man, Izzard,
and had seen the receipt—I asked him if he had taken the others, and he said, "No"—that was all that I knew of anything wrong at that time—when I said, "I know you have Izzard's, because I have seen the receipt," he still denied it—he said he would see me the following Saturday at 4 o'clock—he neither came nor wrote, nor did he send me any money—I then placed the matter in the hands of my solicitor—I received this post-card on the 17th, which is in his writing, by the first post, he having been arrested the previous day, I think: "Please send on statement of account between us"—there had been no question of account between us—the things were sold by me to the customer whose name he gave me.
Cross-examined. I do not know that the prisoner had been a corn dealer on his own account—presumably he had a connection of his own—he told me he was a commission agent—I did not know that he had been in business for himself—he gave the names of James, Wood, and others as persons who had been customers of his—some previous accounts were paid, but they had nothing to do with this account—I wrote this post-card to the prisoner, dated April 7th, 1905: "Dear Sir,—Send all hay orders direct to my carman, Grover; he has orders to execute them promptly. Oat orders you must forward to me"—may I explain that? I was out at the time, and we had trucks of hay ready for delivery which my carman had instructions to deal with, but the oats he knew nothing about, and required instructions from me—that was an exception to the role that all orders were to be sent to me—I wrote that from Margate—there was no exception to the commission being due when the money was paid—there Was a book which the prisoner used to bring to me to make up—you have it—it was produced at the Police Court—I produced it to the prisoner every time he asked for it to-make up his commission account—on August 11th I went to see him at his house in Shacklewell Lane—I went to tell him that he had received money which I had not got, but it was not necessarily an angry interview—I cannot remember any temper being shown—I do not think we had disagreeable words—you may be sure I would not be very pleased with him, but I cannot remember being very cross with him; I taxed him with the facts, and left-him very quickly, but nothing very serious took place—I did not go out of the house and say, "You are a thief"—I put the matter into the hands of my solicitor on the 12th or the 14th, and got the post-card referred to on the morning of the 17th, and I gave it to my solicitor—I do not remember the prisoner paying me £16.
Re-Examined. The prisoner saw me enter what sums I received in my cash book—from the cash book I posted them into the ledger—the commission book was over and over again produced at the Police Court, and handed in—goods were sent in marked in my name.
By the JURY. I have never at any time during the existence of this arrangement given the prisoner credit personally—I never considered his position good enough for credit on the Corn Exchange Market terms.
£16 4s. 2d.—on August 4th I paid him that amount for hay and corn delivered by Mr. Maltby, and for which I received Mr. Maltby's invoice, which the prisoner receipted.
Cross-examined. I did not pay by instalments; I paid it in one sum—I remember the prisoner coming, and my saying to him that the firm seemed rather sharp for payment—when the prisoner took the first order he said he was travelling for a new firm.
GEORGE BRUCE . I am a carman and coal dealer at 8, Baron Street, Homerton—I gave orders to the prisoner amounting to £12 on July 12th and 29th—I received this invoice for the July account from Mr. Maltby by post—I paid the prisoner the £12 on August 5th in cash and by a cheque—he showed me a note from Mr. Maltby to draw all money—I believe he said Mr. Maltby was at the seaside—I paid the money for Mr. Maltby.
Cross-examined. I am an old customer of the prisoner's.
Re-examined. I knew he was not on his own account when I gave him the order.
GEORGE JAMES . I am a fishmonger, of 2, Winchester Place, Dalston—I gave the prisoner an order for oats on July 17th to the amount of £4 3s. 9d.—I received an invoice from Mr. Maltby, and paid the prisoner that sum on August 9th—he said he was with a new firm, and asked me for an order and I gave him one—I paid him the money for Mr. Maltby.
Cross-examined. I did not know him when he was on his own account.
GEORGE WOOD . I am a corn dealer at 40, Arcola Street—in June I gave the prisoner an order for oats to the amount of £10 1s. 7d.—I paid him that amount on August 10th—this is the invoice I received from Mr. Maltby—the prisoner told me he had come to collect the money for the oats, and I paid him—when I gave him the order he said he had started for a new firm, and he asked me for the order, and I gave it—when he was collecting he told me Mr. Maltby was away for a holiday, and he was authorised to collect the money—this is the invoice I received—I have known the prisoner pretty well—he called one day before I paid him and asked if I had got the bill, and I told him no—he told me he was authorised to collect the money.
Cross-examined. I have never paid him any money before—I took orders of him—I have known him in business of his own.
Re-examined. He was dealing for himself a good many years, I think.
WILLIAM SMITH (Sergeant J.) I arrested the prisoner on September 16th, about 11.45, on a warrant—I told him I was a police officer and held a warrant for his apprehension—I read it to him—he said, "That is right"—I conveyed him to Victoria Park police station—when charged he made no reply.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that it was a question of account between them; that the prosecutor said, "I will send the invoice on to you if you like" and "I shall not interfere with the trade of customers, but I shall hold you responsible for the money"; that the agreement between them was to divide the profits after the payment of the expenses; and that he had no intention to defraud.
GUILTY . Nine months' hard labour.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended Cherlin.
ALFRED GEORGE MASKELL . I am manager to Mr. Spikins, jeweller, at 305, Old Kent Road—in July and August, 1904, Anderson was employed by Mr. Spikins as an assistant in that shop—about August 13th he stayed away, and I received this letter from him: "29, Paris Street. Dear Sir,—I shall be able to resume work Thursday morning. Yours obediently, W. Anderson"—I had one letter before that that got burnt—he left on Saturday, the 13th, and I got a letter on the 15th, saying that he had seen the doctor, and that he should not be able to attend business yet—the letter produced I received about the 17th—he did not return, nor again communicate with us—no reason was given—about a week afterwards I found plated chains placed in the window amongst the gold ones—they were substituted to nil up the gap—in consequence of what I found I communicated with Mr. Spikins—stock was afterwards taken.
Cross-examined by Anderson. I did not miss any stock while you were there—when the stock was taken some gold watches were missing—there went about 600 watches in the window, and fresh stock was coming in—the stock missing was not all from the window; we had a surplus stock as well—I had no suspicion of you at the time, nor till about a week afterwards—I should not be likely to miss £400 worth of jewellery from a large stock like ours—watches and rings might have been taken without my finding out, because they were continually coming in, and so much was deducted from the amount, and so much was put in the window, and they hung in bunches in a crowded window, twelve in a row—I said at the Police Court that you had substituted imitation for gold chains—on the Saturday you asked me, "Can I put my coat on, I feel very ill?"—that is the reason I did not suspect you, as it is usual to ask permission on such a matter, and you put your coat on at once, said you felt very unwell, and that you did not expect to be back on Monday—you did not look unwell, but you said so, and I had sympathy with you, and gave you the permission asked—your request put my suspicions off, as I thought you were unwell.
WILLIAM CHARLES SPIKINS . I am a jeweller, of 305, Old Kent Road—Anderson was in my employment as assistant in July and August, 1904—in consequence of a communication I received on August 25th, 1904, I went and examined my stock—I missed 33 silver watches, 18 gold, 275 rings, 38 gold chains, 31 gold brooches, 8 metal watches, 27 gold charms, and 21 gold bracelets—the total value of the stock missing is £434 14s. 3d.—I have been shown a diamond ring, a chain ring, and a gold watch—they are my property, and down in the list as having been stolen—the chain ring has my stock number and the cost—it was made for me, and has my initials inside—the diamond ring has the number and the cost roughly filed out of it; I applied acids to it, and that brought
up my original number, and the cost price—the watch also has had the number and the cost roughly filed out—I applied the acid to that, and it brought up the cost only—the prisoner had no authority to deal with any of the property except as an assistant in the shop.
Cross-examined by Anderson. I cannot say about, the Old Kent Road, but the watch is one of my stock watches—my stock mark is the same at Deptford as in the Old Kent Road—I had an assistant named Segal working for me in the Old Kent Road—I said at the Tower Bridge Police Court that a watch had been pledged by Segal's wife—I have not taken any further action with regard to that, not having seen the watch since, but I know it is one of my watches—I had been away a fortnight for my holidays at Broadstairs., but I was in the habit of coming three or four times a week to the Old Kent Road shop, and putting things straight in passing—I have been there sometimes three or four times a week, and sometimes I have missed a fortnight—if goods are transferred from one shop to another they are invoiced, and the invoice is sent in a proper business way, and they are charged for just as they would be to a stranger—the metal watches are not expensive; the eight would not cost more than 30s., or £2 at the most—I think you had the metal watches, because you gave two brooches to a man at Southampton, and they were returned to me.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNE. The value of the diamond ring produced is, I think, about 30s. or £2—the other one produced cost something like 10s. 10d., and the gold watch 25s.—I have seven establishments—there is a stock mark on all my goods—I stocked the whole of the goods myself, and their names are written by me at my shop in the Old Kent Road—on the chain ring the number has not been obliterated.
BETSY PHILLIPS . I am single, and live at 46, Mount Street, Bethnal Green—I have known Cherlin about twenty months—I was engaged to be married to him two weeks after Whitsun, 1905—he made me a present of this diamond ring about August last year—I returned the ring to him about ten days before Christmas—I was in his shop every week I could, or sometimes twice a week—it is a jeweller's shop at 15, Little Earl Street, Seven Dials—I have seen Anderson in that shop about four or five times.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. That is during eighteen months.
DORA PHILLIPS . I am the wife of Aaron Phillips, and live at the same address as my daughter—in August or September last year Cherlin made me a present of this chain ring—I gave it to my daughter, and she returned it to him before Christmas last.
GEORGE TWYMAN . I am caretaker at 15, Little Earl Street, where Cherlin's shop was—Anderson visited the shop for two or three months last year—I saw him in the shop in August, 1894. and on other occasions—I wrote from six to nine letters for Anderson to Cherlin—I did not keep count of how many I wrote—they were written in August and September—there was one written after that—that was to somebody else—I said at the Police Court that I wrote the letter which was shown to me then, to Anderson, and that Cherlin dictated it—this is the letter dated from 15, Little Earl Street, Cambridge Circus: "August 29th, 1905. Dear
Sir,—Will you kindly call early evenings. Kindly let me know what time to expect you, and I will wait for you" [This was addressed to Anderson at 305, Old Kent Road]—I wrote that because Cherlin was unable to write English—he told me what to say—I have seen these rings before—I returned one of them to Mrs. Phillips at Cherlin's request—on May 20th this year I pawned it for Cherlin for 7s. with Mr. Clarke in Longacre—I also pawned the diamond ring at Brabington's in Wardour Street for £1 on January 9th this year.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNE. I said before the Magistrate that I knew Anderson as a casual visitor during the past twelve months—that would mean before July 19th; before I was before the Magistrate—I do not remember what time in August I saw him—I used to do all the correspondence for Cherlin, and I kept the books—he is a Russian Jew, and does not write English.
CHARLES BEAVER . I am assistant to Mr. T. Layman, pawnbroker, 31, Whitechapel Road—this watch was pawned with me on October 26th, 1904, for 15s.—the address given was 134, Christian Street, Whitechapel.
PERCY SAVAGE (Sergeant M.) On July 9th I went to 15, Little Earl Street, Seven Dials, and arrested Cherlin on another charge—I searched the shop—in a safe I found three pawn tickets relating to the three articles before me—I was with another officer, Willis, at the time—on July 18th at 7 o'clock I went there again, accompanied by Willis, who in my presence said to Cherlin, "We are police officers, and we are making inquiries respecting a quantity of jewellery stolen from the Old Kent Road in August of last year," and producing three pawn tickets, he said, "These three pawn tickets were found in the safe at your shop; they relate to the stolen property. How do you account for your possession of them?"—Cherlin said, "The ring pledged at Brabington's is my property; I bought the stone and made the ring up. The other two tickets were given to me by a man flamed Segal, who lives at Leytonstone"—later, whilst we were searching the shop, he said, "You don't want to be hard on me; I was a fool not to have known what you were when you called on me last August. I know I told you I bought the stuff and melted it all up, but you won't find anything here" (he meant that as part of what he had said last August, when I had an interview with him) and "If you help me to get out of this I will help you to get Anderson; he was here last week, and promised to call again this week, and to get some money to get me out of my trouble"—he was taken to the station, and charged with being concerned with Anderson in stealing and receiving the jewellery stolen from Mr. Spikins—he said, "I should not have been such a fool as to keep the tickets had I known they were stolen"—at the back of the Court on August 2nd he made this further statement, "I know I wrote letters to Anderson, but
there is no harm in that"—Anderson said at that time, but not in Cherlin's presence, "I am willing to give you every assistance in my power to recover the property; I want all the charges brought against me and settled."
Cross-examined by Anderson. I have not traced Segal—I never sent to ask you why you did not plead guilty.
Cross-examined by MR. BURINE. We have had no address of Segal given us—I said before the Magistrate that Cherlin said, "The other two pawn tickets I have bought from a man named Segal, of Leytonstone"—that statement was made before the commital.
Re-examined. I produce a statement made by Anderson which was taken down in writing in Cherlin's absence—Nicholls, my superior officer, was present—Anderson signed it, and I witnessed his signature.
By Anderson. You gave us information as regards the charge made against you—we have not recovered all the property in this case—you assisted in the statement I wrote out, and you signed.
MARSHALL KNOTT (Detective M.) On July 19th I went to Cherlin's shop, 15, Little Earl Street, about 5 p.m.—I was there when Anderson came in—he asked the young lady behind the counter if Arthur was in—I went behind him, and told him I believed him to be William Anderson—he said, "No, that is not my name"—I said, "I believe it is, and shall arrest you for stealing £430 worth of jewellery between July 11th and August 13th last from 305, Old Kent Road, the property of Mr. Spikins"—he said, "Yes, that is right"—on the way to the station he said, "He has made a mistake in the value of the stuff"—he was searched at the station—I found on him a gold watch, a metal chain, and a metal ring, and a gold pin which was identified as the proceeds of another larceny; also two pawn tickets, and there was a letter containing a forged order for some jewellery.
Cross-examined by Anderson. I do not remember your saying, "You have made a mistake in the price; somebody else has had a picking"—I do not remember any message being sent to you in prison."
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Detective-Inspector M.) I received a letter and submitted it to the Commissioner of Police, and in consequence of instructions went to see Anderson in gaol—he made this statement in my presence, which I witnessed the signature of [The material parts of the statement relating to this case was read, and was: "In July, 1904, by means of a character which I forged on a bill head, I obtained a situation as assistant salesman to Mr. Spiking, 305, Old Kent Road, and was in that place till 11th August the same year. Whilst there I succeeded in stealing a quantity of jewellery, the greater portion of which I sold to Cherlin; the other I took with me to New York," and, "I took the jewellery I had stolen from Spikins to him (Cherlin). The jewellery was all perfectly new"].
Cross-examined by Anderson. You gave information with regard to a charge I knew nothing about, and the whereabouts of the property as far as you could, I believe—I believe you rendered us every assistance in tracing the stolen property.
Anderson, in his defence, said he did not agree with the quantity of jewellery put down to him as having stolen; that somebody else must have taken it; that he was very sorry, and he had given what information he could. GUILTY . ANDERSON then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Winchester on June 23rd, 1903, in the name of William Jackson. There was another indictment against him (See page 1441). Five years' penal servitude. CHERLIN— Three years' penal servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, September 16th, 1905.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. MACMAHON Prosecuted; MR. SANDS Defended.
FREDERICK JAMES . I am a storekeeper, of 49, Corporation Road, clerkenwell—I have known the prisoner about eighteen months as Price—on July 21st he came to my shop and said he had some orders to get; if I had nothing to do he could give me a Job to help him—I said I had nothing to do—I went with him to get a barrow on hire—he said, "I want you to go to Tanner's, Dorset Street, and get me some paper there while I go to another place"—I went there and gave in the order—it is addressed to Messrs. Tanner, and says, "Please supply 12 reams 48 lb. D. Demy, as sample. For C. F. Hodgson & Son, A. C. Cole, per bearer"—I was detained by Tanner's and given into custody—the next day I was discharged from custody—I have had orders to take from the prisoner three times.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner came to me he told me he had been at Plymouth—I knew he was not in business for himself—I knew he did odd Jobs—I saw the order with Hodgson's name on it, and assumed it was a job for Hodgson's—it was a small truck I fetched—twelve reams is rather a large order—the prisoner said the truck would hold it.
ARTHUR TANNER . I am one of the firm of R. J. Tanner A Co., 16, Dorset Street, Salisbury Square, wholesale paper merchants—C. F. Hodgson & Son are customers of mine—on July 21st, 1905, James brought me this order purporting to come from Hodgson—I knew it was forged, because it was different to Mr. Hodgson's orders, and was not signed by him, so I telephoned through to them and asked about it—I did not supply the goods, to James—I gave him into custody—he was afterwards discharged—I had had previously a similar order purporting to come from Messrs. Hodgson—I cannot say if the writing on this order is the same—it was on a printed form—I cannot say who presented it.
Cross-examined. The other forged order was on November 12th, 1904—this order has "A. C. Cole" on it—twelve reams of the paper mentioned is worth about £5—it is a fairly big quantity—I saw the truck that was brought to take it away on—it could have been placed on it—the reams are flat.
THOMAS THOMPSON HODGSON . I am a printer, trading as C. F. Hodgson & Son, 2, Newton Street, High Holborn—this order dated July 21st is not mine—it was not issued by me or by my authority, nor is it on my paper—I produce one of my order forms—this forged order was printed by somebody else—I employ no one named A. C. Cole—the prisoner has never been in my employment—I never saw him till at the Mansion House.
Cross-examined. Our orders are either signed by me or the heads of two other departments—it would be signed "For C. F. Hodgson"—I do not know the writing on the forged order.
CHARLES WOODS (Detective-Constable, City). On July 24th, 1905, about 7.30 p.m., I met James and went with him to Holydale Road, Nunhead, where I saw the prisoner—I arrested him—James said, "I know this man as Mr. Price"—I produced the order and said to James, "Who gave you this order?"—he said, "Mr. Price, on Friday, to get paper from Tanner & Co.'s"—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what this lad said, Mr. Harvey or Price. I am a police officer; I shall take you to Bridewell station, where you will be charged with forging and causing to be uttered this order"—he said, "All right; I have been hard up, and have been trying to get a few shillings anyhow. What the lad said is correct, and had I known he was in custody I should have given myself up"—at the station he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. I showed him the order, and he said at once, "I gave it to the boy"—there was no attempt at denial—when James was brought up at the Police Court I cannot say whether the proceedings were reported or not.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate; "I wish to say I acted as the intermediary for another. I came across the man twelve months ago at a Free Library in Blackfriars Road. Since I have been at Plymouth he has called at my house. The orders I made out for him were plain orders without any address, and I knew nothing about Hodgson's, except that there was a Hodgson in Chancery Lane or Fetter Lane, where he used to get his books from."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he wrote the order, which was plain, without any printing on it, about twelve months ago, for a man named Coleman, for whom he did odd jobs; that when Coleman wanted any little things to do the work with, he (the prisoner) would write it down on a piece of paper; that the order in question was given to him by Coleman to get two reams of paper with, and that he (the prisoner) took it without looking at it.
GUILTY . One previous conviction was proved against him. It was stated by the police that there were several other cases of forged orders against the prisoner. Judgment respited.
MR. RODERICK Prosecuted.
into a public-house in the Essex Road, Islington, with three or four friends—as I passed down the side passage there was a bicycle there which I moved and stood upright so as to pass through—the prisoner, who was there, turned round and said if the machine belonged to him he would know what to do to me—a female who was with him made some remark; I did not hear what—I told the prisoner to mind his own business as the bicycle did not belong to him—the female said something and the prisoner struck her in the face—the publican turned them out in the street—I remained with my friends and had some ale—about fifteen or twenty minutes afterwards we left—as I came out the prisoner dashed at me—I felt a sharp pain over the eye—he had his arm up and I saw a knife in his hand—there was a pail of water on the kerb and I went to wash the wound, as the blood was squirting out—I next saw the prisoner about 100 yards away in charge of a policeman—at first I did not wish to charge him—I did not know what I was saying—I was treated by the police surgeon and on August 9th my eye was removed—I had no vindictiveness against the prisoner and I have none now—I thought at the time it was only a slight flesh wound and I did not want to be put to the trouble and inconvenience of prosecuting—I did not then know my eye was injured.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I am positive you are the man who cut me with the knife—I had never seen you before—when my eye was cut I did not fall on you—you did not say, "Look at your eye," and I did not turn round and say, "Go away"—it is not true that I told the constable it was not you.
GEORGE LUCAS . I live at Islington and am a scavenger—on August 7th, at 3.45, I was with the prosecutor—there were four or five of us in his company—I saw the prisoner, in the public-house with a female—there was an altercation between the prosecutor and the prisoner—the prisoner was asked to leave the public-house—he did so—the prosecutor and my friends left about fifteen minutes afterwards—I saw the prisoner standing on the step outside—the prosecutor was walking behind me—as he came out the prisoner rushed at him with a knife in his hand, over my shoulder—I caught hold of the prisoner's wrist and wrenched the knife from him—this is the knife.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not shove you into the street.
HERBERT ANDREWS . I live at 20, Barnsbury Street, and am a labourer—I was with the prosecutor on the day in question—we went into the public-house—the prosecutor put straight a bicycle that was standing there—when inside, the prisoner wanted to fight the prosecutor—the prisoner had a female with him, and they had a row and the prisoner hit her, then the publican told them to leave—they did so—we went out about twelve or fifteen minutes afterwards—I saw the prisoner dash at the prosecutor—I saw no knife—the prosecutor's face was bleeding—I cannot say what from.
HENRY RANSOME (252 N.) About 4.20 p.m. on August 7th I saw the prisoner with a young woman—he was being followed by a crowd, who shouted, "Get hold of him; he has stabbed a man in the Essex Road"—I caught the prisoner—he said, "It is nothing; we hare only had a bit
of a row"—the prosecutor came up with his face bleeding—I asked him who had done it—he said, "I don't know who did it"—the prosecutor did not give him into custody—I arrested him from what the crowd said—a knife was brought to me later on.
DENNY BURTON . I am a doctor, practising at 17, Compton Street, Highbury—about 5 p.m. on August 7th I saw the prosecutor at the Upper Street police station—I examined him and found a deep cut over his left eyebrow—there was a slight incised wound across the eyelid, a slight cut on the left ear, and two or three slight cuts about the finger—I stitched, the big wound—I could not then tell whether the eye was destroyed—great, force had been used—the prosecutor was under the influence of drink when I saw him.
MABEL EMILY GATES . I am house surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn Road—on August 8th I saw the prosecutor—he had a cut over the eyebrow—I found his eyeball was cut—the eye was soft and was getting septic—the sight was destroyed and the eye had to be removed.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not stab the man I swear I did not stab him; the prosecutor at first said he did not wish to charge me."
Evidence for the Defence.
CHARLES JONES . I was in the public-house bar in question when the prosecutor and three or four others entered—there were a few words brought up by another person in the bar and the prisoner told them they had no right to interfere with the bicycle—he was ordered out—when the prosecutor and the others went out I heard the prosecutor turn round and distinctly say, "Do it on him"—there was a bit of scrimmage, and I saw the prisoner turn round and strike him in self-defence—I saw no knife used, but I followed them into St. James Street, where the prisoner was arrested—the policeman let him go at first and the prisoner walked a dozen yards when another constable came up with the prosecutor, who had a bandage over his eye—the constable said he would take the two into custody, but before that the prosecutor said, "I do not want to prosecute, as that is not the man what's done it."
Cross-examined. All the argument was over the bicycle—when the prosecutor and the prisoner left the public-house I was outside then, as I had only gone in to get a pint of ale in a jug—I did not see anybody assist the prisoner to knock the prosecutor about—I saw no knife—I saw a blow struck—I have never seen the prisoner before in my life—it is true that I have been convicted eleven times.
The prisoner's defence: "I am innocent; that is all I can say. I am no scholar. I cannot read or write. If I had been any scholar I would have had a counsel to speak for me. I cannot speak myself. I don't want to have any more remands. I will take whatever sentence I am going to have innocent."
GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner bore a good character. Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Six months' hard labour.
MR. CORNES Prosecuted.
THOMAS HENRY BROWN . I live at 67, Somerset Road, and am a fancy belt maker—on August 5th in the early morning I was in Commercial Road—I had had some drink, but was quite capable—while walking down Commercial Street Clarke came towards me and deliberately put his hand into my pocket and threw the contents on to the ground—I put my hands down to prevent him, when he clasped my hands down and kept them so—Jones picked the money up—they took my pin and watch and chain and ran away—I shouted "Police," and the police promptly came—there were a number of other men round about who looked like some of the gang.
Cross-examined by Clarke. I did not say at the station that you came behind.
Cross-examined by Jones. I have made no mistake; you stood in front of me.
JUDAH MORRIS . I live at 62, Chicksand Street, and am a tailor—on August 5th, about 2 a.m., I was in Commercial Street and saw the prisoners get round the prosecutor with about two more—Clarke turned him round and tipped his pockets out while Jones picked the money up—when the police came up Clarke was standing at the corner of the street while Jones was on the other side.
Cross-examined by Clarke. I said at the Police Court, "I recognise this man because he has got a black eye"—you were given in charge at the corner of Wentworth Street opposite the Princess Alice—I do not know if you were smoking.
Cross-examined by Jones. You walked on the other side of the road when you saw the police come up—you were not 150 yards away when arrested, only about ten.
MARK BARNETT . I am a tailor—on August 5th, about 2 a.m., I was in Commercial Street—I saw the prisoners surround the prosecutor—Clarke emptied his pocket while Jones picked up the money—there were two or three other men who ran away—when I came up to them Clarke was holding the prosecutor round the waist—he said, "He is a pal of ours," so we let him go.
Cross-examined by Clarke. You held him round the waist and emptied his pockets.
Cross-examined by Jones. You were not arrested with Clarke—you were on the opposite side of the road about ten to fifteen yards away.
Street when I heard a shout of "Police"—I ran in the direction of it and saw the prosecutor, who said he had lost his watch and chain and some money—two witnesses pointed out Clarke, whom I arrested and handed to Turle—they then pointed out Jones on the other side of the road—I crossed the road and arrested him—Jones said, "I am innocent. I know nothing about it"—I found on him 3s. 10 1/2 d.; on Clarke nothing.
Cross-examined by Jones. I arrested you at the corner of Wentworth Street.
Evidence for Jones.
MISS—.I remember your changing half-a-crown at my public-house on Friday, August 4 th.
MRS. TAPLEY. I am proprietor of a public-house—I know you changed a half-crown—I cannot say the date—I know it was a Friday evening.
Jones, in his defence, said that as he was walking along he was suddenly arrested; that he was absolutely innocent; that he knew nothing whatever about it; and that he had only 3s. 10 1/2 d. on him when searched.
Clarke, in his defence, said he knew nothing about the robbery.
GUILTY . Jones then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at North London Sessions on February 17th, 1903, in the name, of William Dawson, and Clarke to a conviction of felony at this Court on June 25th, 1900, as George Clarke. One other conviction and three summary convictions were proved against Jones, and nine other convictions against Clarke. They were both given bad characters as waiting about the streets for drunken men in order to rob them. Five years' penal servitude each.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 18th, 1905.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted; MR. MARTIN O'CONNOR Defended Patrach and MR. LYONS Defended Ferrai.
(The Evidence was Interpreted to the prisoners.)
KATE LOUGHTON . I am a cashier to Richard Mills and Company, Ltd., of 19, Liverpool Street, fishmongers and poulterers—on May 26th I was in the office, at the desk part of it—there are two clerks, my sister Nessie and myself, and we both act as cashiers—on that day the prisoners came in and each made a small purchase of fish—it is the practice in the shop that when a customer makes a purchase the salesman calls out the price—the customer then comes to the desk and pays; there is no bill—Patrach came to my desk, the salesman having called out the amount of her purchase—I do not remember what it was—it was less than 1s.—she tendered a sovereign and put it on the desk, and I put 19s. odd on the desk and picked up the sovereign—both prisoners then started speaking to me in French—they had both come to the desk window—I do not remember what Ferrai's purchase amounted to, but the amount had been called out—
it came to 2d. or 3d.—I do not understand French—all I could understand the prisoners to say was, "Take for two, take for two, we pay sil, give back gold"—they were, excited and waving their parcels about as if to confuse me, and one nearly touched my face—I put the sovereign back on the desk; the change had not then been taken up—in the confusion Patrach paid me for both in silver—I do not recollect if any change was given to her then—I got confused and they took up the sovereign and the silver and went out—directly they had gone I realised what had happened and I asked Mr. Mills if I might check the till and I found that it was 19s. and some pence short—the till is a National Cash Register—when the prisoners were arrested I was away on my holiday—I went for my holiday on August 14th and returned on the 28th—upon that day I was taken to the Guildhall—I there saw the prisoners among ten other women and I at once recognised them as the two women who came in on May 26th—all the women there were dark—I think they were English.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I suppose they were in the shop on May 26th for three or four minutes—I took no notice of them until they came to the desk—they were at the opening in the front of the desk for three or four minutes—there was a lot of confusion—ours is a busy shop—about 300 people come to the counter every day—there is plate glass in front of the counter with wood work under the counter—in the glass there is an opening through which I speak to customers and pay back change—when I picked up the sovereign I put it into the till—Patrach did not pick up the change at once, not until I had given her the sovereign back—I did not see her pick up the change—I did not notice what she took up, but I know she took them both up, because I put them both down—I did not think everything was right until after they had left the shop—I felt confused about it—there was nobody else in the shop at the time—I spoke to Mr. Mills directly they had left the shop—it took five or ten minutes to make up the till—We communicated with the police three or four hours afterwards—I could have recognised the prisoners through the glass, but I saw them through the opening—I do not know how many pence the till was wrong—we do not keep the records—the till is wrong 1/2 d. or 1d. on three or four days a week—some days it is short, some days it is over—on occasions it is 1s. or 2s. or 2s. 6d. wrong—the till has keys in a row for 1/2 d., 1d., shillings and pounds—if a person purchases something which comes to 7d. and I press the 9d. key it would be 2d. wrong—mistakes might arise by my pressing the shilling key instead of the penny key, but I should see it registered 1s., because the register comes up—a key could not be pressed by my leaning across them—the mistake can only be a question of touching the wrong key—if the machine gets out of order it is no good—the women who came into the shop on May 26th could not make themselves well understood in English—I understood what they said in English—they said a great deal in French which I did not understand—the amount registers itself inside the till and at the end of the day we check the money to see if we are short—the money ought to agree with the register except for a £5 balance which we start with—it is very seldom as much as 1s. out—the till does not close itself—I have to close it, but I
did not do so because Patrach started talking before I had time to do so—when you press the key you open the till, but if you want to open it without registering any money you have to make a no-sale—I cannot close the till until I have given the change—I close it directly I have finished with the customer—if a person came in and paid a sovereign, the amount of the purchase being 6d., I should want to give them 19s. 6d.—I should press the 6d. key and the till drawer would open—I should take the change out, pick up the sovereign, put it into the sovereign box in the drawer and shut it—I did all that on this day except close the drawer—the sovereign drawer is locked and I have to get a key to open it—the key was hanging on the wall just at my back—you cannot unlock it by pressing the sovereign key again—I always make a rule of taking out the change before I pick up people's money—at the Police Court on August 28th I did not notice that the prisoners were very much darker than they are now—I think they wore ordinary hats; I have seen plenty of them in the East End—all the women were dark when I identified the prisoners—I should think they were all English, but I did not look at them—I recognised the prisoners at once—I heard their solicitor protest in Court that it was not fair to identify dark women from among white women—[MR. O'CONNOR stated that he thought the prisoners were Spanish]—I knew the prisoners at once because they are very peculiar looking, and I had a bother with them.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I saw the prisoners in the cells with their hats on, but they were not the same kind of hats which they were wearing in May—I do not know what kind of hats the other women in the cells had on—I do not remember what the silver coin was that Patrach gave me—we did not keep the record at the end of the day—I do not have to touch any pressing down key to unlock the sovereign box, only the key to the box—I always close the till after each purchase.
Re-examined. Except on this occasion I have never known the till to be 19s. wrong or anything like it—when it is a few pence wrong it is because I have given the wrong change—it does not show any fault with the till.
By the COURT. The prisoners came into the shop about 11 a.m.
NESSIE LOUGHTON . I am sister to the last witness and in the service of Messrs. Mills & Company—I was in the cashier's office on May 26th, when I saw the prisoners come into the shop—they came to the desk to pay, Patrach coming first—I do not remember how much she had to pay, but it was less than a shilling—she offered a sovereign, which she put on the desk in front of my sister, who registered the amount in the till and took the change out, which she put on the counter in front of Patrach—my sister put the sovereign into the till—Patrach said, "No, no," and asked in broken English for her sovereign back, which my sister gave her—I understood Patrach to say sovereign, but she did not say it like an English person would—I saw Patrach pick up the silver and the sovereign Do—Ferrai was standing by at the time—they both flourished their parcels about a good deal, but Patrach paid for both purchases—Patrach said, "Take for two; take for two"—they both went away with the
sovereign and the change—on August 19th they came in about 6 p.m. and made a purchase and came up to the desk—I did not see them come in—when I looked up they were standing in front of my desk—I recognised them as the two women who came in on May 26th—I spoke to Mr. Mills at once, who stood up in the office, and when they went away he went outside and stood in the shop—the women stood outside the shop and then went away, and Mr. Mills followed them—I next saw the prisoners at the Guildhall on the following Monday—I gave evidence against them.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I saw Patrach take up the sovereign and the silver on May 26th—I saw the women through the opening in the cash desk—my sister was sitting there, but I could see through too—they stayed in front of the desk for a minute or two—I cannot say if there were any other customers in the shop at the time—my sister and I had a very strong suspicion that the prisoners had stolen something before they left the shop, and we appealed to the till to be positive—I said to my sister, "Has that woman got your sovereign?"—she went on giving Patrach the change—I do not know if she made any answer to me—she was doubtful although I warned her of the woman—I did not tell Mr. Mills; I did not hear my sister tell him—I do not think he heard what I said to my sister—if I am talking in one direction people in another cannot hear—we were both suspicious of the woman having the sovereign and the change, but it is not safe to turn round and swear people have taken money before you are certain—the amount of the purchase was called out; my sister registered it on the till—the sovereign was taken, but not tested—she would put this sovereign in the till and take the change out, but she would not then necessarily close the till—we never touch the money at our place until we have given the change—supposing a sovereign is put on the desk, we should register the amount, take the change out, put it down, and then pick the sovereign up—the till was not closed on this occasion because we should have to register "No sale" to open it again, and we did not have to do that—I do not know if a key was used to unlock the drawer—the sovereign was put into the till by putting it through a little slit, but it can be taken out by being unlocked with an ordinary key kept on the wall—I cannot say if it was used on that day—I think I said at the Police Court, "I realised she had got the silver, but I had not realised that she had got the sovereign"—I was doubtful and did not realise it sufficiently to make a strong point and keep her—immediately after the woman had left the shop the till was made up—it had previously been made up over night and checked—when I saw the prisoners in the shop on August 19th I was certain they were the same women who had been in on May 26th—I was in the desk; they were outside—I cannot say how they were dressed in May—I do not remember the colour of their clothes; I recognised them by their general appearance—I have never identified anybody before at a Police Court—we have 460 or 500 customers in the shop daily—I think I am very good at identification—I have no idea of the height of the two women who came into the shop in May.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. We have no books kept as a record of the till; we do not keep notes of the till—it is out 1d. or 1 1/2 d. four days
a week—we keep the till ourselves—the opening in the front desk is about 2 feet or 18 inches—there is a little ledge outside—customers do not show their parcels to the cashier—I cannot say if customers hold their parcels and pay their money with the same hand—different customers have different methods.
By MR. O'CONNOR. On May 26th the women spoke in broken English.
WILLIAM JAMES MILLS . I am managing director to Richard Mills & Company, Ltd.—I was in the shop on Friday, May 26th, when the prisoners came in—I recognise them, undoubtedly—I was in the office—I saw them come to the cashier's desk—Patrach put a sovereign down to pay for some goods she had bought and stated in broken English the amount the cashier was to take, but I do not remember how much that was—the sovereign was picked up by the cashier, Miss Kate Loughton, and the change put into her hand or on to the indiarubber mat—at the same time Ferrai came along and in broken English said, "Take for two; take for two"—they were both waving their parcels in the office before the clerk's face—Patrach said, "Give me my sov back, I pay you sil"—in the confusion the clerk handed back the sovereign, apparently neglecting to ask Patrach for the silver, and she immediately paid for what they had purchased with a silver coin, and they both went out—immediately they went out we had some conversation and Miss Kate Loughton asked that the till should be checked, which was done, and to the best of my belief it was a sovereign wrong—it is very often a halfpenny or a penny short or a few coppers, through giving wrong change—on one occasion I believe it was 7d. out, but undoubtedly never a sovereign—I saw the prisoners again on Saturday, August 19th—I was sitting in the office when I was asked a question by one of my clerks—I immediately got up and saw two women, whom I recognised as the prisoners—when I went to the police station on May 26th I gave an exact description of them—on August 19th they were at the cashier's desk—when they left the shop I waited until they got a little way up Liverpool Street—I spoke to a constable, but seeing that they were likely to get away I crossed Liverpool Street, got in front of them and spoke to a second constable—while I was doing so they arrived opposite where we were standing and saw me speaking to the constable—they turned round and ran down Bishopsgate Street and turned down Camomile Street—the constable was in uniform—the prisoners ran fast—I ran after them and when I came up with them two constables were just behind me—the prisoners had run 200 or 300 yards—they were stopped by the police—they said nothing in English—they were charged for stealing this money on May 26th—at the station there was an officer who understood French.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I gave a description of the prisoners at Bishopsgate Street station on May 26th—I do not know the difference between foreign and English garments—I have been in France and seen the headgear in country parts—they were not wearing that sort of thing—I do not know by their clothes whether they were London made—I do not remember the costume they were in when they came to the shop—I sat in my seat at the counter the whole time they were there—there
is thick plate glass directly in front of me, but I saw them through the opening—I was sitting about 5 feet from them—the desk intervened between myself and the plate glass and I was about 3 feet from the window—the opening at the pay desk is about 18 inches wide and 18 or 24 inches high—I stood up directly the confusion began and examined the women closely through the opening—I do not remember Miss Nessie Loughton saying to her sister, "Has that woman got your sovereign?"—if I had been listening I could have heard anything she said to her sister—at the time the conversation took place I had no idea anything wrong was going on in the shop—I did not see the sovereign actually put down, but the moment the confusion was caused I looked up—the sovereign may then have been in the cashier's hand or on the desk—I do not remember what was being done when my attention was called, but there was a lot of confusion and bad English and patois—I heard the woman ask for the sovereign back and saw it handed to her—the first thing I heard was the "Take for two" business, then I saw the waving parcels and so on—I will not say I was suspicious, but my attention was called to it, and I stood up to see what was going on—the next thing I saw was the payment by a silver coin—I do not know what the coin was—I saw the prisoners at the counter for about a minute; it may have been two or three—I leaned forward to see what was going on—I do not know if the sovereign was ever put into the till; I do not know that the cashier stood up—there is a key for the till in my possession, or hanging on a nail, or pinned on my desk—if Miss Loughton wanted to open the gold drawer she could take the key down—having my full confidence, she uses it—both the Misses Loughton have my full confidence—I do not know if either of them took the key down—if she wanted some half-sovereigns to give change she could take them out of the till drawer—I do not know how often she takes down the key for the gold box; it is her business, not mine—she may do it once or a thousand times a day—I do not know if anybody was being served in the shop at this time—there may have been one or two, but certainly not thirteen or fourteen—if you suggest that it is impossible that Miss Kate Loughton could take the key down without Attracting my attention, I most emphatically deny it—she does not have to leave her seat to take the key down—both ladies have been in my employ two years—it is owing to their great integrity that they both have my full confidence—they deal with something like £500 or £600 a week, and there has never been anything wrong—immediately after the sovereign was taken the change would be given—I am certain that I saw the change put down—I do not know how much it was—I do not know if I have said that the first thing I saw was the cashier giving back the sovereign—I do not remember if the till has ever been wrong to the extent of 2s.—it may have been in years gone by—if the sovereign was put in the till the cashier would get it out with the key hanging on the wall—if Miss Kate Loughton says the till has been 2s. wrong I should say yes; she has more knowledge than I—tapping the key for the pounds would not register the amount wrong—it would take a lot of tapping—there is a special lever for opening the till—on August 19th the women used no English
sentences—they only said, "No, no." [MR. O'CONNOR called for the original description given by the witness to the police.]
FREDERICK BAREHAM (Detective-Sergeant, City), I did not take this description myself, but this (Produced) is the Official Occurrence Book, dated May 26th [This stated that one of the women was aged about 45, height 5 feet, dark hair and complexion, black skirt and light blouse. The other aged 40. Height 5 feet, dark hair and complexion, black skirt.]
W. J. MILLS (Cross-examined by MR. LYONS). I am sure the woman said, "Give me sov. back; I pay you sil. I have change"—I did not say "I have change" just now, because it did not occur to me—I did not hear the evidence of the two girls at the Police Court—I have not talked the case over; I have read a part of it in a newspaper—I have been given notice to produce some documents or accounts which were never in existence—the notice was to produce the register of the till, but there is not one in existence; it is destroyed directly the checking is correct—we keep full books, but they do not show how much the till is in error—if it is out 1 1/2 d. nobody makes it up; it is written off—if it was a sovereign short no record would be made of it, but I should inquire into it, and if it was through the fault of my employees I should discharge them if it was done more than once—I have not called the attention of the makers of the till to the fact that it is four days out of six wrong; it is not important enough—the till has a register which indicates how often it is opened, but I do not keep a record of it—I should know every night how often it is opened—if I saw "No sales" registered a number of times I should want to know why it had been opened so often—on August 19th, when the prisoners left my shop, they walked about four miles an hour and they began to run when they saw me talking to the constable.
THOMAS SMITH (950 City). On August 19th I was on duty in Liverpool Street when Mr. Mills spoke to me and pointed out two women, but I could not see whom he meant at the time—when I saw the prisoners first, they were running across the road from Bishopsgate Street into Camomile Street—I ran after them and caught them and took them to the station—from where I caught sight of them to where they were arrested was about 250 yards—another constable stopped them in Camomile Street—they ran pretty fast.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I know nothing except that they ran across the street—when they turned the corner I lost sight of them and when I got to the corner of Camomile Street they had been stopped—when they crossed Bishopsgate Street they were quite close to Camomile Street—I was 30 or 40 yards from them when they crossed the street—Mr. Mills was running in front of me—I was running also.
WILLIAM DAY (951 City). I stopped the prisoners on August 19th, when they were running in Camomile Street—they had been running for about 250 yards when I first caught sight of them—I saw them run from the time the prosecutor pointed them out to me until I stopped them—they were running as fast as they could; I was running after them.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I was about 20 yards from them when they started running—I ran as hard as I could—Liverpool Street
was very crowded with workmen going to the station—I was going five or six miles an hour—I did not see the prisoners walk; they were under my observation the whole time.
ERNEST NICHOLLS (Constable, City). On August 19th I saw the prisoners at Bishopsgate Street police station at 7 p.m.—I speak French and interpreted the charge to them—speaking of May 26th Patrach said, "We were not in London at the time; we have only been in London two days"—she said they did not know their address and that they were staying with friends.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNOR. I did not hear them speak English—I asked them if they did so and they said, "No."
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I was not present at the identification; I had nothing to do with it—the solicitor for the defence did not approach me personally about bringing Jewesses similar in colour and type to the prisoners for the identification—I heard the solicitor, Mr. Searle, make some objections in Court with regard to the identification because the other people were not dark enough—I think he said something about French hats and I heard him complain that he had not been allowed to take a photograph—the case came before Alderman Hanson—I saw a man with a camera, but I was not present at the identification at the station.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. Mr. Searle asked me to have proper people put up with the prisoners after ten other women were engaged—I had nothing to do with obtaining the women; they were in Court when I got there—if I had thought they did not resemble or were not very near to the prisoners I should have sent them away—Mr. Searle saw the women before the identification—he said the prisoners were very swarthy and the women put up with them were very white—I said it was impossible for me to get any women in London to tally with the prisoners exactly—he did not tell me that another officer had promised that women should be got from the East End—I was asked to put the prisoners up for identification in daylight and not artificial light, but that was not done because there was no closed yard—the identification was in a large cell, whitewashed and having electric light and gas—it is now used as a passage—I believe it was originally a cell—I did not hear a request made that the names of the other people should be taken with their addresses so that they might be brought up here—I did not refuse to do so—a photographer was present—Mr. Searle wanted to have a photograph taken, but he said nothing about the unfairness of the identification—the photographer in answer to a question by Mr. Searle said there was not enough light to take a photograph.
Re-examined. When people are put up for identification there are a series of rules laid down by the Home Office, and everything I did was done under those rules—there is no rule saying that if a friend of the prisoner thinks one of the other men is no good that I must take him out, but
I should use my discretion—I know nothing about the practice of the Metropolitan police apart from the City—if one of the men put up for identification with a prisoner was a dwarf I should not have him.
Patrach, in her defence on oath, said that she first came to England on August 18th with Ferrai from St. Charant, near Bordeaux, where she lived with her husband, who was a horse-dealer; that she could speak no English; that when they arrived at Victoria she went to a man named La Roche by cab; that she did not know where he lived, but gave the cabman a piece of paper with the address on it which La Roche had sent her; that on August 19th she, Ferrai, and a man went for a walk to see London; that the man conducted them to the corner of a street and told them to wait for him; that he did not come any more, so they went to buy some fish; that on coming out of the shop she ran a little bit to cross the road when she was arrested; that she stayed at St. Charant for two months; that she left there in May and went to Dieppe, where she stayed about two months, and then came to London; that her husband was in Dieppe with her; that she left him there with their children; that they went to Dieppe for a feast and market; that she and Ferrai came to England because Ferrai had a quarrel with her husband and wanted to leave him, and that she (Patrach) came with her to take her back.
Ferrai, in her defence on oath, said that she left her husband in Dieppe; that she was there in May, that being her home; that she had three children there; that she arrived in London on August 18th; that she left Dieppe because she had a quarrel with her husband; that she and Patrach went to La Roche's; that on August 19th they and a man went to buy some fish; that the man waited at the corner for them; that when they came out of the shop they did not see him, so they ran across the road to try and join him; and that the had not seen him since.
During the examination in chief of this witness MR. LYONS said he wished to call witnesses from Dieppe. No application had been made to postpone the trial till next Sessions, and being pressed by MR. LYONS to postpone the trial for the attendance of witnesses to prove an alibi the RECORDER postponed the case until October 16th.
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 18th, 1905.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
JULIUS BRAUNER . I am a hairdresser, of 5, Southampton Row, W.C.—I married the prisoner's sister and have a son named Harry, who looks after the business behind the counter, generally as well as myself—he has control of the cheque-books, pass-books, and account-books—until November, 1904, I banked with the London & Westminster, when I changed to the London Joint Stock Bank, Holborn branch—I paid in about £100—this is my pass-book (Produced), and this my cheque-book (Produced), which was issued to me at the beginning of February this year—on looking
at it about April 14th I found that the first cheque and counterfoil were missing—this is the cheque No. B. 000403, for £33 13s., dated February 11th, 1905, "London Joint Stock Bank, 120, High Holborn, W.C. Pay Mr. George Seymour, or bearer, £33 13s."—then there is the stamp of the bank, "Paid, February 11th, 1905, Signed, 'Julius Brauner'"—on the back there is, "George Seymour, The Fines, Ealing"—the signature is a forgery, and I know nobody of the name of "George Seymour, The Pines, Ealing"—I did not give authority to anyone to draw a cheque in my name—this cheque-book (Produced) was issued to me by the bank about the beginning of April—I find that cheques Nos. B. 000465, 000466, and 000467 are missing, with their counterfoils—I discovered that fact a few days after they were drawn—this is the cheque No. B. 000466, dated April 3rd, 1905—"Pay Mr. Philip Wagner, or bearer, £37 17s."—then there is the stamp of the bank, "Paid, April 7th, 1905"; signed, "Julius Brauner"—on the back of it is endorsed, Philip Wagner, Mount Pleasant Road, Lewisham"—the signature is a forgery and I know nobody of the name of "Philip Wagner"—I opened my account with a loan of £1300 made to me by the bank on my securities, which I paid on June 24th or 28th last.
Cross-examined. I paid it off from the proceeds of the sale of my business—the manager of the bank did not complain to me about the state of my account till after April; he was not continually calling attention to it between February and April—I did not make an actual promise that I would keep £100 in the account; he said as long as I kept about £50 that would do—sometimes I had £50 in and sometimes I had not—I began 1905 with a balance of £16 11s. 8d., and on January 16th, there was £34, January 80th, £82—I had not always got £37 in the bank—up till April they always honoured my cheques whether I had money in there or not—I only had my pass-book at home between February and April once; that was for only a few days; in March it might hare been—I ticked these entries in it—this cross against the item of "Seymour, £33 13s.," was made in March when I had the pass book—I was very busy on that day and was called away, and I put the book in the safe—on the following day my son took it to the bank and I did not see anything further of it—I think I made this pencil mark underneath that item, but I cannot swear to it; I simply made the tick, and bore the item in mind—I made no mark against it at any time—I did not take any steps about it until the middle of April—I cannot tell you whether on March 25th a cheque drawn by me for £25 presented through Glynn's was dishonoured by the bank—I do not wish to swear whether it was so or not; I am not quite sure—if the bank says so, it is so—on March 16th my credit was £905 15s. 5d. and my debit £897 16s. 10d., so I had less than £8 in the bank—I do not think after the cheque of February till April 18th the manager was continually calling my attention to the state of my account; I swear he was not—I had my pass-book out on April 12th—I do not remember the manager calling my attention to the state of my account on that day; I will not swear he did not—I remember he did draw my attention on that day to the fact that my account was over drawn—that was because the cheque for £37 17s., which was not
mine, was honoured—on April 11th a cheque for £38 12s. 6d. was not dishonoured—I cannot tell you whether the manager told me so on April 12th—I believe after my interview with him it was re-presented and met—the cashier did not continually come across to my shop to speak about my account—I know the cashier, Mr. Appleyard—I do not know the submanager, Mr. Grout—Mr. Appleyard has never been in my shop; it was another clerk; a young man whose name I do not know—he has only been about twice—it might have been in February or March—I cannot tell you whether when the manager told me on April 12th that the cheque had been dishonoured on April 11th, that I said I would make it all right and pay more money in; I am not positive about it—it might be the next day he paid the cheque on that understanding although there were not funds to meet it—when he was talking to me I had the pass-book before me—I did not say anything about the cheque on April 3rd—I did not look at it on that day; I looked at it in that week—on April 18th I went alone to the bank and complained about that cheque for the first time—the manager asked me to let him have my paid cheques—I am not quite sure whether he called my attention to the fact that the endorsement on the cheque of February 11th seemed to be in the same handwriting as that of April 3rd—I told him it was not my cheque and said I would find out who had forged it; I did not mention whom I suspected at that time—I am quite sure I said that the signature on both cheques, "Julius Brauner," was not mine—on the 19th I instructed my solicitor, Mr. Negus, to write a letter dated the 19th—I left the matter entirely in his hands to do what he thought best—I might have instructed him to write to the manager, "With reference to the cheque in February to which you called his attention in favour of Mr. Seymour, he is making enquiry, and I therefore reserve for the present any claim with regard to this cheque"—the manager did not tell me on the 18th that in his judgment the signature on April 3rd cheque was in my writing; he said he thought it was not a forgery—I never spoke to Mr. Appleyard on the subject—I cannot tell you whether the manager said the cashier was of the same opinion—it was with reference to the February cheque that the manager said he was not quite sure about the writing; he did not say definitely that the cheque was not forged—he also said that about the April 3rd cheque—after April 18th he did not press me about my account; there was always plenty of security there—he might have said something to me about my keeping my account in better order——the April 3rd cheque, "Wagner," is underlined and has a cross beside—I did not put it there; it may have been mine—directly I saw it in the pass-book I went off to the bank at once—I put that tick by the side about April 18th—I did not look at it before the 18th—I did not make those ticks on the 12th—I first made the charge against the prisoner towards the end of July—almost immediately after April 18th I told the manager that I suspected the prisoner—he asked for some of the prisoner's handwriting and I gave a post-card to my solicitor to give to him—my solicitor gave him this envelope addressed in the prisoner's handwriting to my son (Produced)—I cannot swear whether I gave the manager the envelope myself or not—Mr. Appleyard was never present at my interviews with the manager
—I am not sure whether my solicitor was present when the envelope was produced—it was handed to the manager in my presence—I will not swear I did not hand it him—I do not know the gentlemen at the bank by name—I did not know Mr. Appleyard's name; he was not present—nobody spoke to me about the pencil marks on the envelope—I cannot say whether at that interview I said I had put those pencil marks—I cannot tell you whether they were there at the time; I do not know anything about them—I do not remember if they were there when I handed it to my solicitor—it was the only specimen of the prisoner's handwriting we had at that time—I will not swear the manager did not ask me who made them, nor that I said I had—I may have made those pencil marks myself, but not to my recollection; I cannot swear to it—in my opinion the "J" in pencil on the envelope is not like the "J "in the signature on the cheque of April 3rd—I have no idea why I wrote those pencil marks, if I did do so—I do not know anything about the envelope except that we handed it to Mr. Hughes, the manager—I did not tell the manager that I had been practising that writing, or anything of the kind—I told him that I knew nothing of Seymour—I cannot remember whether he asked me if I had ever paid Seymour any money; I do not think he did; it might be so—I have never paid a cheque to Seymour—I do not remember him warning me to be careful about it, nor that I said, "I do not remember"—I was not in difficulties all this time—after I sold my business a Receiving Order was made against me on August 23rd—I got to know Kendal first two months ago through the prisoner's late employer—I cannot tell you whether my son bets—it was not through my son that I got to know Kendal—I have never been to the Court for being drunk in my life—I have never been to the bank drunk; that is quite new to me—I have not many account books—I do not remember telling the manager I had none—I have none referring to about these dates.
Re-examined. I have always borne a good character and have never been in trouble of any sort—I have been carrying on a hairdresser's business for twenty-six years—about June the manager said to me, "If you find out the man to whom we paid the money, we shall make the amount of the two cheques good for you"—I tried everything to find out who cashed those cheques and one day Isaacs, the prisoner's late employer, called at my place, and it was in consequence of that that I discovered Kendal—I told him to go to my solicitor and give him all the information he could—at the time of the interview of April 18th I thought the bank was liable to me for the amount of the two forged cheques—I think it was about the end of April that I put the whole matter in the hands of my solicitor—there might have been a cheque dishonoured about March 15th, but I cannot remember—I cannot remember a cheque for £38 being dishonoured on April 11th, nor any conversation with the manager with reference to it—there would have been sufficient to my credit in the bank to have paid that amount, had not the forged cheque for £37 been honoured—all my account books are in the hands of the Bankruptcy Court.
By the COURT. I drew these cheques about February and entered these counterfoils (Produced).
HARRY BRAUNER . I am the son of Julius Brauner and I assisted him in carrying on his hairdresser's business in Southampton Row—it was part of my duty to take charge of the cheques and cheque books on the London Joint Stock Bank—I kept the cheque-book and the paying in book behind the counter in a drawer—I had charge of no other books—the pass-book was in my hands in February, March and April, but I cannot say as to what days or weeks—I remember having a cheque-book on the London Joint Stock Bank issued on February 9th—the prisoner, who is my uncle, would come three or four times a week to see me in the shop for the last twelve months—between 5 and 6 p.m. on February 10th he came and remained until we closed—it was my business to lock up the cheque book and the money in a drawer at night—on February 10th I took the cheque-book out of the drawer and left it on a chair behind the counter—I then went upstairs, leaving the prisoner in the shop alone—on my return he was still there—I took the cheque-book and money and locked them away in the safe, and went out with him—this is the cheque-book I left on the counter (Ex. 3)—I did not hear that a cheque was missing from it until the middle of April—the prisoner came to see me between April 5th and 8th—I had then in my possession this cheque book issued on April 5th (Ex. 4)—I heard that there were three cheques and counterfoils missing about the same time—I know the prisoner's handwriting—this postcard (Ex. 6), signed "Uncle Peter," to me is in his writing—these two letter-cards and letters and envelope are in his handwriting.
Cross-examined. The reason I remember February 10th is that he did not come for a long while after that—I left the prisoner about five minutes, or longer, in the shop—I did not tell him afterwards that if my father won the case against the bank he had promised me £12—I have a brother who bets occasionally—I have betted only once or twice—I do not know Kendal as a betting man—I know Mr. Gurrin was consulted about these forged cheques in April, I think—I do not think he is a witness here to-day.
Re-examined. I had never seen Kendal before these proceedings; the first time I saw him was in April, when he was taken round to the solicitors.
GEORGE KENDALL . I am a private enquiry agent, of 22, Cottage Grove, Clapham—I have known the prisoner for eighteen months or two years—I met him first at Mr. Isaac's, a barber in Gray's Inn Road; I have been in the habit of going there to be shaved and he was an assistant there—he left the employment in December, 1904—I saw him several times after that—I received this post-card, dated February 10th, from him [Stating that the prisoner would be glad to see him at Finch's at 10 a.m. on Saturday morning to make some arrangement, as he fully expected to be in hospital for a month. Signed "P. Walters"]—I kept the appointment at Finch's in Holborn—he asked me if I would cash a cheque for him, and on my saying I would, he told me he had overdrawn his account £5 and did not want to go to the bank himself in case they might deduct the £5—he
then handed me a cheque like this one (Ex. 1); I cannot say it is absolutely the same cheque; it was for £33 13s.—I took it to the London Joint Stock Bank, and got the money, and returned to the prisoner, who was waiting in the street—we went to a public-house for a drink, where, I think, I handed him the money—he treated me and gave me half a sovereign—this letter-card was sent to me by the prisoner [Dated April 4th, making an appointment for Wednesday about the same time and place]—Wednesday would be April 6th—I met him at Finch's, our usual place for meeting, and he gave me, I believe, this cheque (Ex. 2); it was for £371 7s.—I cashed that for him at the same bank and gave the money to the prisoner, who was waiting outside—we went to a public-house and he gave me a half-sovereign with which to pay for drinks, and he told me to keep the change—I saw the bank clerk give evidence at the Police Court—I pointed him out as the man who had given me the money for the cheques.
Cross-examined. I introduced the prisoner to a bookmaker—I work for myself; I have no connection with Slater's—I have not backed a horse for eighteen months—I did not ask the prisoner where he got the cheques from; I did not even look at the drawer or endorsee—it did not seem odd to me that he should have a banking account, as he led me to suppose he had private means of his own as he did his employer—I cannot tell you whether they were bearer cheques—I thought most decidedly that it was a legitimate transaction I was lending myself to—I met him on February 11th from 12 to 1 or 2; I cannot say the time—after the cheque was cashed he asked me to put £5 on a horse for him—I introduced him to a bookmaker and he put it on—I was not certain of the date before the Magistrate; I said in February or March, but I am sure of the date now; it was a Saturday—on the second occasion an ex-detective from Scotland Yard, Harris, saw me give him the money—he is not here to-day—he got a half-sovereign out of it also; we were really at that particular time in business together; he was a partner in the transaction in a sense—the prisoner said he was short of money, and I had implicit confidence in him on both occasions—one cannot look at it as an honest transaction from the bank's point of view, but I did not regard him as a dishonest man.
GEORGE ARTHUR APPLEYARD . I am a cashier at the London Joint Stock Bank, High Holborn branch—this cheque (Ex. 1) was presented to me on February 11th and I paid the amount, £33 13s., at once—I believe Kendal is the man I paid it to—the amount was charged to Mr. Brauner's account—on April 7th this cheque (Ex. 2) was presented to the best of my belief by the same man—I looked up the signature and referred it to the manager, Mr. Hughes, and we paid it, £37 17s., feeling quite sure it was all right—that amount also was charged to Mr. Brauner's account.
Cross-examined. I have been fifteen yean in the employment of the bank and I have a good deal of experience in the comparison of signatures—I should say Mr. Brauner signed both cheques—Kendal is slightly different from when I saw him, but I hear he has been ill—I will not swear he is the man who cashed them; I saw him for so short a time
—the reason I hesitated over the April 3rd cheque was that it is a finer writing, and has evidently been written with a finer pen—I was present at the interview when the envelope was given to Mr. Hughes when the prosecutor, and Mr. Grant, the head cashier and deputy manager, were present—Mr. Hughes was talking to the prosecutor, when he noticed the envelope in his hand and said, "Which is your writing, the ink or the pencil?" and the prosecutor said, "Oh no, the pencil is my writing; I wrote those 'J' s'"—I have compared the pencil 'J' s" with the "J" in the signature on the April 3rd cheque and I should say they were written by the same person—the prosecutor had his pass-book out several times in February, March and April—I passed it with the ledger when it came back—the ink ticks are made by the bank—the paid cheques were put in the pass book and we noticed on its return they had been taken out—I have personally called the prosecutor's attention to the state of his account—I have been to his shop to speak about it—in February and March I have been across to his shop to advise him before paying a cheque—sometimes when he has been to the bank he has been very merry; I have not seen him absolutely intoxicated.
Re-examined. We should not have cashed the cheques unless we were absolutely certain of the signatures being genuine—the son at times took out the pass-book—it was the bank who produced the February cheque, in whose custody it was on April 18th.
By the COURT. I recognised the man who cashed the second cheque as the same man who cashed the first one—those are the only two times I have seen him cash cheques.
ALFRED COLLINS (Detective-Sergeant E.) At 9.40 a.m. on July 21st, in company with Sergeant Baxter, I went to Bream Street, Old Ford—Baxter remained at a distance and I saw the prisoner standing at the door of No. 19.—I asked him if his name was Peter Walters and he said, "Why?"—I said, "Were you present at the inquest yesterday?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer," and he at once made a dash at me and ran through the passage of his house—I ran after him and we struggled and fell to the floor—I restrained him and blew my whistle—Baxter came, and we got him into the kitchen—Baxter then told him the charge and afterwards he said to me, "I would not have tried to get away; the reason I tried to get away was because I thought you came to give me a good hiding for giving evidence against the police at the inquest on the man who died in Victoria Park"—the day previous he had given evidence at an inquest—on being told the charge he said, "Is Mr. Brauner going to charge me?"—Baxter said, "Yes"—he said, "He has been very kind to me"—Baxter also explained to him that a witness named Kendal had made a statement which would be read to him at the police station—he was taken to the Gray's Inn Road police station, where he was charged, to which he made no reply.
Cross-examined. He had given evidence at the inquest, which might be taken as contrary to the view of the police.
into No. 19—on hearing the whistle I went in and found the prisoner and Collins struggling on the floor—we took him into the kitchen and told him we were police officers—I said I should arrest him for stealing two cheques, the property of Mr. Brauner, and that there would be further charges against him which would be gone into at the station, and that Mr. Kendal had already made a statement which I would explain later on—he said, "Is Mr. Turner going to charge me?"and I said, "Yes"—he said, "He has been very kind to me"—on being taken to the station I showed him the two cheques and said, "These form the charges for forging and uttering. It is alleged by this means you obtained the sums of money which are mentioned thereon; I have compared the handwriting on the cheques with yours, and I am of the opinion they are your handwriting"—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I do not put myself forward as a handwriting expert.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate; "I have nothing to say."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was in the prosecutor's shop on February 6th; that he admitted writing the letter-card on the 10th, making an appointment with Kendal, but he was too ill and did not meet him; that he went into hospital on the 14th; that he could not keep the appointment made with Kendal on April 6th, as he again went to the hospital on that day, and he produced a hospital card proving that fact; that in the evening at 9 he went to the prosecutor's shop just as it was closing; that there was a young lady there; that he met Kendal a few days after, but only to ask him to put £5 on a horse, which was the purpose for which he had made the previous appointments; that on no occasion had he asked Kendal to change cheques for him; that he did not steal any cheques, and that he had no access to them; that he knew nothing of either cheque until Harry Brauner had mentioned the February cheque three months before he was arrested; that he had not been dismissed from Isaacs', his late employer, for obtaining money under false pretences; and that he had never been in trouble.
Evidence for the Defence.
ALFRED MCGREGOR HUGHES . I am manager of the High Holborn branch of the London Joint Stock Bank, Ltd., and have been employed by the bank twenty-four and a half years—during that time I have had great experience in testing signatures, and I have acted as a cashier—the prosecutor opened an account in December, 1904, by giving us certain securities in consideration of which we placed £1,300 to his credit—he told me that the average balance he kept at the London & Westminster Bank and which he was prepared to keep with us was between £200 and £300—that was quite satisfactory and I agreed to that—I have a statement here of his balance every day this year (Produced)—he began the year with a balance of £16 11s. 8d.—at the close of his business, February 9th, it was £61, and on February 10th £133 odd; on February 14th £28, on February 17th £33—at no date from February 14th till the end of March, except on February 17th, was there as much as £33—on April
3rd he had a loan from the bank of £100; his credit before that had been £23—it was given on the condition that he fulfilled his bargain of paying £50 every quarter—on April 7th there was a credit of £49, but from that date till May 22nd there was never as much as £37 to his credit—these two cheques in question were presented at convenient time to ensure payment—we certainly would not have cashed them if there had not been money to meet them—this is a certified copy of our returns book (Produced)—on March 14th a cheque was presented for £25 when his credit was £14—on April 11th there was a cheque to a Mr. Thorne for £38 12s. 6d. when his credit was £14—I sent Mr. Grout for him and he came to see me on the same day about it—I have frequently called his attention to the state of his account and we had to send over to his shop to ask him what he was going to do about the cheques that were presented—I cannot say whether he brought his pass-book with him on April 11th—he was very anxious that the cheque to Mr. Thorne should be paid and that if I paid it next day he would see that the account was put in credit again—on the next day I honoured the cheque, leaving the account overdrawn £17 odd—on April 13th there was £5 overdrawn; on the 14th £7 in credit; on the 15th £6 in credit; on the 17th £7 overdrawn—on the 18th I was advised by telephone that this cheque for £37 17s. the prosecutor claimed to be a forgery—he was waiting in my room when I got to the Holborn branch and I asked him again, and he said it was a forgery—the cheque dated April 3rd, and presented on the 7th, was the only one mentioned—Mr. Appleyard showed it to me when it was presented and I formed the opinion that it was genuine and ordered it to be paid, and I still think it is genuine—I asked him what reason he had for saying it was forged and he said as he had not written it himself it must be forged—I asked him where he kept his cheque-book and I understood him to say he kept it locked in a drawer behind the counter, outside the barber's part of the shop—I asked him who had access to it, and he said no one but himself and his sons—I asked him if he suspected anyone and he said a relative—I said I must think the matter over, and that ended the interview—he told me the first thing on the 19th that he suspected his brother-in-law, the prisoner, and I asked him then for a specimen of the prisoner's handwriting and to give me all his (the prosecutor's) paid cheques—it was on that day that he gave me the envelope—Mr. Grout and Mr. Appleyard were there, but not Mr. Negus—there were some pencil marks on it—I asked whose writing in ink was it and he said the prisoner's—I then asked him who had written the pencil marks under-neath it and he said he had written them himself—I said, "Do you mean to say you wrote these yourself?"and he said, "Oh, yes; I was scribbling on it"—I say the "J "of the pencil marks and the "J "of the signature of the cheque are identical—his old cheques came over in one or two batches and amongst them was the cheque of February 11th—I noticed that the cheque of April, although a bearer cheque, bore an endorsement with an address, which is very unusual., and as the cashier stated that he knew the man who cashed it I thought I should find a previous cheque with a similar endorsement on the back of it—I found the February cheque
and asked the prosecutor if he knew a man named Seymour and he said, "No"—I then asked him to think again, as I thought I could prove that he had paid Seymour money and he still said he did not know anything about him—on showing him the February cheque first he would not say whether he signed it or not—Mr. Negus was present at that time—I had a letter from him dated April 20th (Read): "Referring to my interview with you this morning, I beg to make formally the claim on Mr. Brauner's behalf for payment of £37 17s., the amount of the cheque in favour of Mr. Wagner, which you cashed, and the signature of which Mr. Brauner denies to be his. With reference to the cheque in February, to which you called his attention in favour of Mr. Seymour, he is making enquiry, and I therefore reserve for the present any claim with regard to this. Mr. Brauner will be happy to give you every possible assistance that may be necessary to enable you to trace the forgery. Yours faithfully, William Negus"—we placed the matter in the hands of our solicitor—the claim for the February cheque was made on the 26th—in my opinion the signature on that cheque is genuine—the prosecutor has come to the bank once or twice the worse for liquor.
Cross-examined. I do not pretend to be an expert, except as regards my professional duties—we generally go by the general character of the handwriting—I have not compared the different letters in the signature, because in analysing the letters it is very difficult to form an opinion—if it had not been for the cheque of February being honoured, the £25 cheque on March 14th would have been honoured and the same as regards the cheque for £38 on April 11th if the April 3rd cheque had not been honoured—on comparing the prisoner's writing with the endorsements on the two cheques, there is some similarity, but I should not like to say they were the same writing; the "P "is not the same to begin with—I do not think "P "in "Peter "is like the "P "in "Pines"—I am more dissatisfied with the endorsement on the April cheque being the prisoners writing than I am with the February cheque—I suggest the prosecutor is mistaken in denying the signatures.
NOT GUILTY .
The COMMON SERJEANT: "That verdict does not determine anything at all with regard to the genuineness of the cheques." (See next case.)
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Monday, September 18th, 1905.
Before J. A. Rentoul, Esq., K.C.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted; MR. WARDE Defended.
Green—on Saturday, May 27th, about midnight I was sitting on my doorstep with some friends—a young man came up and called me "John"—I went towards him because he called me—he said, "Let go," and I heard a revolver shot—I was not near enough to touch him—I saw the prisoner fire it—I have known him for years—I have spoken to him—he has been a neighbour—I saw him fire two shots—the second bullet caught me in the leg—it penetrated my knee—I was taken to the hospital—when the bullet hit me I fell, and a young woman came and helped me up—a policeman came up and put me on the bed, and I was taken to the hospital in a cab—I had had no quarrel with the prisoner—I was in the hospital a week—the prisoner was about five yards off, across the road, when he fired.
Cross-examined. I had been out for a walk from between 8 and 9 p.m.—I had been to about five public-houses—I had only had one drink in each—I was with three friends—they paid for drinks—I drank out of a glass—I drink out of a quart pot if it is handy—I got home about 11.55 p.m.—we sent to the public-house at the top of the street for drink—my young woman brought it—the four of us sat on the step and drank, two on one step, and two behind—I was on the bottom step in front—my brother Joseph and his missus were with us—the man may have called "Jack"—I say it was "John"—there were a few people in the street, but not many—I know the prisoner has not denied being in the street, and he has asked me not to prosecute—I have seen him twice since, once on a Saturday night—I gave him a drink of beer out of a can—I had a quarrel with one of his associates, but none with him—it was not Woodhams—I stabbed Woodhams—that did not make a good deal of bad feeling against me in the neighbourhood—I have not made a good many mistakes as to the people who were there on this Saturday night—I do not know about Harding being locked up—I heard that Overy was locked up for being concerned in shooting—he was discharged by the Magistrate—a man named Newman was locked up, sent for trial, and tried at this Court—I appeared as a witness—he was found not guilty—Newman was there that night, but the prisoner is the man who fired the bullet I got in the leg—I swore that Newman was there, and he was there—four shots were fired—I do not know who fired the other, but the prisoner fired at me when I went out to the man who was standing by the side of him, and he caught me with the bullet of the second shot, and he was the man who shot me—Newman was standing at the side of him.
Re-examined. I was sober—I said in my depositions in Newman's case that I called out, "Callaghan is the man who did it; I will have you for that"—I saw Newman alongside of Callighan—I did not see Overy.
By the JURY. I did not charge any others.
JOSEPH RICHARD BAILEY . I am a carman, of 8, Ducal Street—I was with the last witness, my brother, and his young lady and my wife, about midnight on May 27th, a few minutes after 12 o'clock, sitting on the doorstep, when seven or eight chaps came along on one side and one on the other—one called out "Jack," when my brother jumped up, and the
same man holloaed out, "Let go," and there was a report of a pistol—as Jack went out to the road there was a second shot, which felled him to the ground—I crossed the road and caught hold of one man in the crowd, and one of them pointed a pistol right in my face as I held this man—I saw the prisoner fire two shots—it was lucky for me there was a lamp post, as I was just scared with a bullet which caught me across the eye—we had given no provocation to the prisoner, who was a stranger—I had been with my brother all the evening—we had been into three or four public-houses—he was quite sober—we are both in respectable employment.
Cross-examined. There was a lamp post at the opposite corner—I picked out Newman, who was there that night—he was found not guilty at this Court—I ran up the street and caught Overy as he ran away along with the rest—the Magistrate discharged him—I cannot say anything about bad feeling; I do not associate with these men—I live in the same house as my brother, but he goes out early in the morning, and comes back late—I did not hear of his stabbing Woodhams till I was up at the Court last time.
ANNIE WHITEHEAD . I live at 21, Gibraltar Gardens—I am single—I was sitting with the Baileys on the night in question when I saw six or seven fellows come on one side of the street, and one on the other, and one called "Jack"—Jack looked up, and one called to the others," Let go"—a shot was fired—Jack ran towards them—a second shot was fired, and he fell, shot through the leg—he called out," All right, Callaghan; I'll have you yet"—I saw the prisoner standing with the others, and when they said, "Let go," he held the revolver and fired twice.
Cross-examined. I did not see anyone else there with a revolver—four shots were fired—I am positive the prisoner fired two—the men ran away—I helped the one who was shot.
REBECCA BAILEY . I am the wife of Joseph Richard Bailey, of 8, Ducal Street, Bethnal Green—I was on the doorstep, and saw the men come along and call out, and somebody said, "Let go"—the prisoner fired the first shot, which missed my brother-in-law, who ran across the road, when the prisoner fired a second shot at him and hit him in the leg—the men got away after that—one man fired at my husband.
Cross-examined. The lamp post was at the other corner, but they were facing it—I did not know the prisoner till the night he fired, but he has been to me since and asked me to let the case drop—I let him drink out of my beer can on a Saturday night since Newman's case—we had a talk first, and then the company had a drink out of my beer can—I do not know whether the prisoner did; the can was passed round—the prisoner did not deny being there that night.
JOSEPH PULLEIN (Detective-Sergeant H.) About 3 a.m. on July 29th I saw the prisoner at the station—I told him the charge—he said, "I have been about; why did not you have me before?"—I said, "Because you absconded from the neighbourhood, and also gave up your employment"—he said, "If Bailey had not cut my head open on the Saturday night before, it would not have been"—he was afterwards charged, and made
no reply—I had been looking for him before the June Sessions of this Court, and at 6 o'clock one morning I found out he had been to Wales—the prosecutor told me the prisoner was the man who fired about 3 the following morning.
Cross-examined. I know that the prisoner has been to Wales from information only—I know he was away; he did not go back to work.
Re-examined. When I did not find the prisoner at his usual haunts I made use of the usual channel of police inquiry.
JAMES HUGH THOMAS . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—the prosecutor was admitted on May 28th at 12.50—he had a ballet wound in his right thigh—it had entered about four inches above the knee—the bullet was extracted, and he was discharged on June 4th.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was going quietly home alone on this night when he heard shots fired; that he never fired a revolver, and never had one, but that he had met the prosecutor and his friends on a Saturday night subsequently, when they had a friendly drink together; that he never went to Wales, but only kept out of the way in the day time because the Baileys had a spite against him since the prosecutor's head had been cut open previously; and that he had charged, among others, Newman, who was tried at this Court. [The Sessions Paper was referred to and the evidence in that case read to the Jury. See Vol. cxlii., page 1276.]
GUILTY . He was shown to be an associate of bad characters, and convicted thieves at night, although employed in the day time. Six months' hard labour.
MR. GREEN Prosecuted.
HENRY CARNELL . I am a land and estate agent at 34, Norfolk Street, Strand—I became acquainted with the prisoner through certain mortgage transactions—he came to me about June 13th and asked me whether I could discount a bill for him—I said yes, if he got a good person to accept it—he gave me the name of Augustus Hamilton Johnston—this bill is in my writing—he took the bill away with him and brought it back on the 14th, or a day or two afterwards—it appeared to have been accepted by Augustus Hamilton Johnston and payable at the Bank of Scotland—he also produced this letter, dated June 14th, and signed "A. Hamilton Johnston," stating "I authorise you to discount the bill for £100"—I believed the signatures to the bill and letter to be Johnston's—I took it to Mr. Kent, and arrangements were made, in consequence of which Mr. Kent, the prisoner and I went to the office of Messrs. Williams & Co., and saw Mr. Love, their manager—that firm consented to discount the bill—on Saturday, June 17th, a cheque was drawn for £93, and handed in my presence to the prisoner—I heard the clerk ask the prisoner if the bill was all right, and he said, "Yes."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I drew out the bill—probably I put in some date—probably I swore at the Police Court that you brought the bill back on the 16th—you said that Mr. Johnston was away, but that you could
get hold of him when necessary—I did not make a note of our appointments—I remember your wanting a cheque changed—I cashed a cheque for you—I gave you £2 10s., and paid £2 10s. for the risk—there was an I.O.U., and I had a letter from your wife about it—I took advice, and was Advised not to pay that £5 over in the present condition of matters.
Re-examined. I endorsed the bill and gave it to the prisoner, who took it away with him—I did not know Johnston had not signed the bill till he brought it to me—I cannot remember the date.
ALDWYN PELHAM KENT . I am an insurance agent, of 47, Powis Square, Bayswater—the prisoner came to me with Mr. Carnell with reference to discounting this bill which was produced by Mr. Carnell—I afterwards took them to Messrs. Williams & Co.—I was present on June 17th when this cheque for £93 was handed to the prisoner, who was anxious to get it cashed, in consequence of which I took him to my friend, Mr. Gilham, who gave him two cheques, one for £60 10s., and one for £32—the cheque for £32 was not to be presented till the other cheque was cleared—this letter was handed to me by Mr. Carnell [The letter authorising the bill] on the 15th—all I did was to introduce the matter to Messrs. Williams & Co., and they did the business.
Cross-examined. I cannot remember whether you were present when the bill was handed to me—I received 5 per cent, commission—I do not know how much Mr. Carnell received—he handed me £5, which I understood was under your direction, and which I said I should charge for introducing the business to Messrs. Williams & Co.—Mr. Carnell handed me the letter with the bill—he did not go with me—I said "Good-morning" to him and took the bill and letter to Williams & Co.—he went with me to get the bill cashed—Williams & Co. discounted the bill two days afterwards, on the Saturday, when you were present, by one cheque for £93, less discount—you said you were anxious to get it cashed, and I said, "I know a gentleman in the City who knows Messrs. Williams & Co., and I shall have pleasure in going and asking for the accommodation," and we went and got it from Mr. Gilham, who charged 10s. for the accommodation—the bill purported to be accepted by Sir. Johnston.
STEPHEN HENRY LOVE . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Williams & Co., 155, Fenchurch Street, City—I was present on the Saturday when this bill was discounted, and when I saw this letter: "Dear Hart,—I authorise you to discount the bill"—the bill was brought to us by Mr. Kent, and the letter by the prisoner—I asked the prisoner the usual question whether the bill was in order, and he said, "Yes"—the question meant whether it was duly accepted, which I believed it was—thereupon I drew this cheque for £93, and handed it to the prisoner—at the same time he lodged with me an agreement between himself and "The English Motor Car Company," and the Articles of Association of the Company called "The Maxim Boyd, Limited," upon which I see the signature "A Hamilton Johnston," and that resembles the signature on the bill.
Cross-examined. I remember Friday, June 16th, making an appointment with Mr. Carnell and yourself at 3 o'clock—I made enquiries then at the bank—I found everything correct as far as I inquired as to the bill—
Mr. Williams did not come, and I made an appointment for the next day—the next morning you and Mr. Carnell arrived—you saw me, and afterwards Mr. Williams—in the presence of Mr. Carnell Mr. Williams asked you the question whose bill it was, and you said, "Johnston's," and you explained that Mr. Johnston had personally agreed to become a director of "The Maxim Boyd Company, Limited," and that he had agreed to pay part of the promotion expenses—you told me the bill was for the purposes of bringing out that company—I do not remember if there was any question about yourself—I am sure the signature of Johnston was then on the articles, because that was brought up as a matter of bona-fides that you were dealing with Johnston at the time—you afterwards asked me for the copy of the articles back, because you wanted new signatures, and there was only printed the one we had—you undertook to return it—I did not have any gratuity.
Re-examined. A print of the articles would not have been worth much without the signature—I said at the Police Court that he lodged the security for what it was worth—if I had had the slightest doubt, the matter would not have gone through—my inquiry at the bank was as to the stability of the acceptors; we do not inquire of a bank as to whether a bill is forged as a rule.
AUGUTUS HAMILTON JOHNSTON . I reside at 17, Cadogan Gardens—this bill of exchange for £100 bearing date June 14th or 15th has not my signature—I did not authorise the prisoner to accept that bill on my behalf—I did not write this letter purporting to come from 17, Cadogan Gardens, of June 14th: "Dear Hart,—I authorise you to discount the bill for £100," etc.—it is written on my headed paper, but it has not the embossed stamp—this letter was left at my house, signed "M. Boyd Hart"—I know his signature [This was addressed, "Dear Johnston" and other letters were produced between the witness and the prisoner of a friendly character]—I keep my notepaper in my writing-desk in the smoking-room; my headed paper is also kept there—if the prisoner wrote a letter there he had an opportunity of possessing himself of my paper—I first heard of this £93 bill when Sergeant Sargant asked me about it some time in August—I did not have any part of that £93—I did not tell the prisoner to get any sum of money for the purpose of his company, "The Maxim Boyd Hart, Limited"—I signed the Articles of Association at the prisoner's request, and I had on two occasions given him cheques, one for £10, and one for £15—this is my genuine signature [On a cheque].
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I know that my parlour-maid admitted you into my smoking-room—I was not present—she is away in the country—I agreed to act as a director of "The Maxim Boyd Company," but it was a good thing I did not—I agreed to give you £15, which I did—I did not agree to pay part of the promoting expenses—the telegram I sent I believe was the first time I met you in the City, about May 19th—I do not remember what we discussed, if anything—I have written and made appointments with you—you told me you had no ready cash—I said, "I have no ready cash; I cannot assist you with cash," and you said, "All I want is you to honour me with your name "; that was as regards
getting furniture from Wallis & Co., in the East End—I gave you a letter to Messrs. Wallis to get the furniture for the company—I did not write to you when you were in prison; I wrote to your wife, not because I had the slightest doubt as to the case, and if you thought so you misunderstood me—I signed two sets of Articles of Association, I believe in my smoking-room.
Re-examined. The prisoner wrote asking me to back a bill, and I said, "I have never issued a bill in my life, and I never intend to"—I had no idea he was using my name in accepting this bill for £100—I signed the second copy of the Articles of Association when I was living in Scotland, and the first in my solicitor's, Mr. Ellis's, office, I think on May 11th—the prisoner had a copy with my signature on, therefore before June 17th he was in possession of a memorandum signed by me.
WILLIAM SARGANT (Detective-Sergeant, City). On September 6th I saw the prisoner in custody on another matter—I read the warrant to him—he said, "Very well"—he has not asked the police to produce letters, or we would have done so, and every facility would have been given—there is a notice in the cells to that effect.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that after the bill was drawn he never had it again; that the money was expended for the benefit of "The Maxim Boyd Hart Company" of which Mr. Johnston had consented to become a director, and to pay part of the promotion expenses; and that he had Mr. Johnston's authority to use his name in discounting the bill.
GUILTY . He was further charged in the indictment with having been convicted at Clerkenwell Sessions on May 27th, 1902, in the name of Hans St. Lausnitz, of obtaining goods by false pretences, to which he pleaded Not Guilty.
JOHN MACPHERSON (Detective-Sergeant, New Scotland Yard). I was present at the North London Sessions on May 28th, 1902, when a man named Hans St. Lausnitz was convicted of obtaining goods by false pretences—that man is the prisoner.
GUILTY. Another conviction was proved against him. Three years' penal servitude, and five years' police supervision.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
Old Court, September 14th, 1905.
HENRY CHARLES COLLISSON . I live at 13, Courtney Place, Walthamtow, and am a box cutter—in 1884 I married Emily Pope, the prisoner's sister, and had by her three children, who are now alive—the eldest was Harry, who is eighteen, Margaret, who is fifteen, and Nelly, who is
twelve—my wife died in 1893 and I went to live with her sister, the prisoner, and on August 1st this year I had three children by her alive, Frank, age ten, Elsie, a little over eight, and Catherine, just turned seven—I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner in 1898—I lived with her at various places and eventually went to 13, Courtney Place—we had been there just over twelve months before August 1st—on that day we were living there with all the children, except Harry, who did not sleep there as far as I knew—I was not exactly out of work; I was doing odd jobs—on Tuesday, August 1st, I went back to 13, Courtney Place, about 2 p.m.—the prisoner was there; she seemed in her usual state of health—I went to bed that night about 9—I slept in a room with the prisoner and Kate—the other four children slept in another room at the back—on the early morning of Wednesday, August 2nd, I woke the prisoner about 5—she got up and made breakfast—I afterwards got up and left the house about 6.30, having had breakfast with the prisoner—when I left, the other children, as far as I knew, were asleep—I knew nothing more of this until I saw it in the paper—when I last saw the prisoner that morning I noticed nothing strange, or I should not have gone out.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner's father occasionally some years ago—I think he died ten years ago or more in Colney Hatch—I visited him at Islington Infirmary and they told me there that he had cut his throat and tried to drown himself—my wife died in St. Bartholomew's Hospital after having thrown herself out of a six-storied window in Goswell Road—the first time the prisoner was taken bad was after Kate's birth and she went to the asylum ward in the workhouse in City Road—then I fetched her home—she was in the asylum for about a month and I then told her to come to St. Bartholomew's Hospital as she complained of feeling weak, and they kept her there because she said she had attempted to kill her children—she was only there a few hours and I had to take her back to the same asylum—she was there about a month and we then went to Tottenham—after the birth of the child she went wrong again and then they took her away from Tottenham to Wandsworth Asylum—she was drafted to Hanwell—she was away about twelve months altogether—she discharged herself from there and came home in the beginning of 1901—she has been home since then—we have had no more children—she has been very rough up against me ever since, but she has been very kind to the children—she has threatened me dozens of times, and has often said she would cut my throat or stick a knife into me for no cause—I paid no attention to what she said because I did not fear her—I waked up one morning and found her sitting in a chair staring at me—I said, "Who are you staring at?" and she said, "I was considering whether I should cut your throat or not"—I did not threaten to send her back to the asylum the Monday before this happened, but I daresay she was under the impression that I was going to send her back—she said to me once, "You put me there before; I suppose you want to put me there again"—she always blamed me for putting her in the asylum.
MARGARET UNIE COLLISSON . The prisoner is my aunt and I lived at Courtney Place with her and my father—I am fifteen years old—on August 1st the prisoner was in her usual state of health—next morning I got up about 6.15—Elsie, Kate and Frank were in bed, asleep—I had breakfast with the prisoner—I left the house just before 6.40—my sisters and brother were still in bed and asleep; my father had left the house before me—I did not see my brother Harry that morning—I know a tub which is used at home; it was generally kept empty in the back kitchen, downstairs—I did not notice it in the kitchen upstairs that morning; I was in the kitchen.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has always treated me kindly—I have never heard her threaten me or any of the children—at this time the house drain was stopped up and the prisoner usually slops into the pail and then down the sink.
HARRY COLLISSON . I am the son of Henry Charles Collisson—before August 1st I had had some difference with my father and I was not supposed to be sleeping at home—on August 1st I saw the prisoner about 10.30 p.m. at the street door—I asked her whether I could sleep there that night—she said, "Yes"—I went into the kitchen about 11 o'clock—I had had a key for some time—I slept that night in the kitchen—the prisoner seemed all right—she called me next morning at 6; she seemed all right then—I had to clear out before my father came down—I left the house and stayed out until 6.55—I did not see my father leave; he generally left about 6.30—as I was returning to the house I saw the prisoner coming out of the street door; we did not speak to each other—she was wearing a hat and a cape and was carrying a key in her hand—she went in the direction of High Street—I let myself into the house; I went up into the kitchen—I found the door was locked and I went down into the garden—I was there until somebody next door asked what was the matter—when I went up to the kitchen the police were there—when I slept in the kitchen that night I did not notice if the tub was there or not.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has always been kind to me and protected me against my father—I have seen a tub in the kitchen sometimes.
JOHN HIGGS . (462 N.) On August 2nd, about 7.10 a.m., I was on duty in High Street, Walthamstow, where I saw the prisoner—she said, "Come with me; I have drowned my two children"—I said, "Where do you live?"—she replied, "Courtney Place"—I followed her to No. 13—she unlocked the street door and entered—I followed her into the passage and said, "Where are they?"—she replied, "Upstairs in the kitchen," and handed me this small key (Produced)—I went upstairs to the kitchen door and found it locked—I unlocked it and entered—in the middle of the kitchen I saw a wooden washing tub full of dirty water and the bodies of Elsie and Kate lying on their backs with their bodies and heads underneath the water and their legs hanging over the edge of the tub—I felt the legs; they were warm and, I removed the bodies from the water on to the floor—I sent for a doctor at once, and in about five minutes Dr. Jerome arrived and he resorted to artificial respiration—we could not recover life—when the prisoner spoke to me she appeared rather excited and I noticed that the front of her skirt and the sleeves of her bodice were
saturated with water—apart from appearing excited she seemed rational and spoke to me connectedly and answered my questions—I went into the back room on the second floor and found Nelly and Frank in bed.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not seem upset over what she had done—the water in the tub looked like slops.
HAROLD ROE JEROME . I am a registered medical practitioner, and on August 2nd I was called to 13, Courtney Place, about 7.20 a.m.—I went into the back room on the first floor and saw Higgs—there was a tub of water and two children on the floor—the children were recently dead—their bodies were still warm—the police constable and I tried artificial respiration, but with no avail—on August 3rd I made a post-mortem examination—on Elsie I found a small bruise on the outer side of the right ulna which might have been caused by striking the side of the tub—the cause of death was asphyxia from drowning—on Kate I found a small old scratch on the right side of the bridge of the nose partially healed—on the right temple I found a bruise about half an inch in circumference and another bruise on the left temple, both quite recent, and might have been caused by the side of the tub—the cause of her death was asphyxia from drowning—Elsie was about eight years old and Kate about seven—in my opinion they were old enough to struggle if they had been placed in water, and if anybody had put them into water it would be necessary to use some considerable force.
Cross-examined. Kate was consumptive—both children appeared well cared for and clean.
WILLIAM KNOTT (Detective). Just after 8 a.m. on August 2nd I saw the prisoner at her house—I said to her, "I am a police officer and am going to take you into custody for wilfully killing your two children"—she replied, "I could not help it; I had to do it. It is not the first time I have tried it"—she shook her head and said, "Oh my poor brain"—on the way to the station she said, "I done Kate first"—when charged she said, "I could not help it; I had to do it. They put me away before because I threatened my children"—she seemed very downcast indeed and was scarcely able to stand, and I had to have a chair put for her—she seemed to be almost in a state of collapse.
Evidence for the Defence.
HARRY PERCIVAL FULLERTON . I am deputy medical officer for Holloway prison—the prisoner has been there since August 3rd under careful observation—I have examined her—when she entered the prison she was in a depressed and exhausted condition and was more or less unable to stand and had to be supported—her pupils were dilated, her tongue was thickly furred, and she was more or less mute and continually repeated the words, "I had to do it"—she was in a state of melancholia and in a state often seen after a mental explosion amongst the insane—in my opinion when she entered the prison she was insane so as not to be responsible for her actions, and I should say that that was her condition when she committed the act on the day before—she is now suffering from melancholia and homicidal impulses—I have had frequent conversations with her.
Cross-examined. I have no doubt about her condition—I have had considerable experience in this class of case.
GUILTY , but insane. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
New Court, September 13th, 1905.
MR. KENT Prosecuted.
LAURA FITCH . I live at 39, Bickerstaff Road, Stratford—the prisoner is my sister—she came to me on July 28th—she had been crying—she said she could not help it because Harry said Mrs. Emerson, the landlady, ought to give her a good hiding—Harry is her husband—she went out—I went to the door about ten minutes after to see if I could see her, when I saw people running the River Lea way—when I got to the bank of the river I saw the little baby pulled out of the water—I went further along and saw my sister lying on the side of the bank—she was unconscious—when she was conscious I said to her, "Oh, Minnie, whatever have you done this for?"—she turned round, and said, "Not Harry," as well as she was able to speak—she was then taken away on an ambulance—she had been rather unhappy because she had four little children and they had no food sometimes—she was a very good mother.
FREDERICK TRAYLOR . I live at 14, New Providence Street, Stratford, and am a carman—on July 28th, in the afternoon, I was near the Lea—I saw the prisoner walking alongside the river—she went into the water carrying a child in her arms—she had to go down a bank 5 feet deep to get to the water, and I lost sight of her—when I next saw her she was in the water—the baby was in the middle of the stream on its back—the stream is about 15 or 16 yards wide at that spot—as I got down to the water she called out," Oh, my baby!" and went down—I and another man caught hold of her and pulled her out on to the bank—another man got the baby out of the water—I went and fetched a policeman.
JAMES THOMAS HARRIS . I live at 3, Violet Street, Millbank Road, Wood-ford, and am a fitter—on July 28th I was working on a bridge at Wharton Road, Stratford, and heard someone shout, "Woman and child in the water!"—I dropped my tools and ran across to the bank, when I saw the prisoner struggling in the water—the baby was floating on the top of the water—I entered the water and picked the baby up—there was about 4 feet of water where the baby was—I assisted the other men to get the woman up the bank—the stream there is a backwater of the Lea and is tidal water.
JOHN JENNINGS (363 K.) On July 28th I was on duty at Stratford—I was informed that the prisoner had jumped into the backwater of the Lea with a child in her arms—I proceeded to the place and applied the usual means of artificial respiration and brought her round when a doctor arrived—she was removed to the West Ham Infirmary—after being cautioned
she said she meant to drown herself and the baby because she had had a lot of trouble—she was detained in the ward.
WALTER ATKINS GROGONO . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police, and practise at West Ham—on July 28th, about 4 p.m., the baby was brought to my surgery suffering from immersion—it was about seven months old—it is perfectly well now.
WILLIAM EUSTACE (Detective). On August 1st I went to Whipps Cross Infirmary and there saw the prisoner—I told her I was a police officer and that she would be charged with attempting to murder her child by drowning it in the backwater of the Lea—she said, "Yes."
The prisoner, in her defence, stated that she did it through trouble, being short of food; that she had four little children and three of them used to ask her for bread, which she had not got; that she had some furniture on the hire system; that she had had to pawn things and became depressed; and that she owed some rent, which worried her.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, September 12th, 1905.
690. WALTER HARRIS (20) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a gelding, the property of Andrew Webb; also to stealing a cart, the property of Richard Harris, having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford on May 18th, 1904. ( See next case.)
691. WALTER HARRIS was again indicted with ROBERT HOLMES (20) and WILLIAM BAILEY (20) for breaking and entering the shop of Alfred Lamartin Shaw and stealing eight boxes of margarine and other goods, his property. HARRIS and BAILEY PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. METCALF Prosecuted.
JAMES BOWLES . I live at 64, Elizabeth Road, Upton Park, and am manager to Mr. Shaw, a provision merchant, of 328, Green Street, Upton Park—on August 12th at midnight I saw the premises closed—all the bars and bolts were fastened; nobody was left on the premises—I next saw them again at 11.30 p.m. on August 13th, when I was called by the police—I found great confusion there and a large quantity of property had been disturbed—the value of the property taken away was between £17 and £18—the police showed me a horse and cart, and in the cart I found our provisions—I have known Holmes for three or four years—he had been on our premises on several occasions to get straw for his father—he probably would know the back part of the premises, as he would come in that way.
ERNEST HUBBARD (822 K.) On August 13th, at 10 p.m., I was on duty in Green Street—Plashet Lane is opposite Mr. Shaw's premises and there are some mews there—I saw a horse and cart in the mews—I saw Holmes and Harris with them—Bailey left the mews previous to my going down them—I cannot say how near the cart Holmes was—I have known him about a fortnight; I was 10 or 12 feet from him and I am positive
he is the man—I watched Bailey and Harris for some time; they were messing about with the cart and provisions—Holmes and Harris passed by me at the top of the mews and escaped—they walked a short distance" and then commenced to run—Holmes went to his father's premises about a quarter of a mile away—he went through Crescent Road and Whitfield Street into his father's backyard—he had to get over a gate to get there.
GUY MERCER (Detective Sergeant). I went to the house occupied by Holmes' father in Whitfield Street at 1 a.m., on August 14th—I found Holmes in the scullery, next door, lying down behind some boxes, his face covered over with a handkerchief—I told him I was a police officer and asked him to get up and said, "l am going to take you into custody for stealing some provisions from a shop in Green Street"—he said, "If I Knew it was coming to this I would not have run; I would have stood my ground '—the wash-house where he was, is occupied by his father as a storehouse—I handed the prisoner over to a uniformed officer and then commenced to search the house when he said, "It is no good looking for long Harris here; he ran round the other way"—he was taken to the station and charged and made no reply.
Holmes, in a written defence, said that a man named Krama asked him to look after a pony for him while he fetched some harness; that he did so and Krama, when he came back, said he was going to see a man about a cart; that he returned and told him (Holmes)"to bring the pony and put him into a cart; that they went round two or three turnings and got into Green Street; the Krama told him to go on by himself, which he did when he saw Harris and Bailey; that they put the pony into the cart; that he saw the cart was loaded with goods stolen out of the shop and said to Harris, "If I knew it was a thing like this, I would not have done it"; that he went to leave the yard; that Harris followed him and as he was going into his own yard Harris said "There is a 'copper 'coming round."; that they ran across the road and he did; that he had not broken into or entered the shop and knew nothing about it; that he led the pony along, thinking he was doing an honest action, and that he had been led away as he had led the pony.
GUILTY . One other conviction was proved against Harris, and the police stated that Holmes and Bailey were associates of thieves, although two witnesses were called to give Bailey a good character. HARRIS— Eighteen hard labour. BAILEY and HOLMES— Nine months' hard labour each.
Third Court, September 13th, 1905.
692. SAMUEL CHUMBLEY (62) and GEORGE HENMAN (56), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a mare, the property of Richard Charles leach, Henman having been convicted of felony at Stratford on October 17th, 1901. Nine months' hard labour each.
MR. METCALF Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
FREDERICK WILLIAM JONES . I am a cooper, of 22, Caldron Road, Leyton—on Sunday, August 6th, I had in my stable at 148, Leyton Road, two ponies, a cart, and a set of harness, which I saw safe at 9.30 p.m.—when I went again to the stable, between 7.30 and 8.30 in the morning, I missed one pony, the cart, the harness, and the three cushions—I had given nobody authority to take, them away—the prisoner had done a few days' work for me—I next saw the pony and the other things on the Tuesday morning at Leytonstone, where the prisoner was charged with drunkenness.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had been for three or four days driving about with me to get barrels—I gave him 30s. commission—I heard he was arrested for drunkenness—I value the pony, the cart, and other things at about £12—I had not the key of the stable—it is let to other tenants as well as the shed and the yard—other things were there.
ELIZA JEPP . My husband's name is Agar Jepp—we live at 210, Chandos Road, Stratford—between 4 and 5 p.m. on Sunday, August 6th, I was in my front room, which is between 4 and 5 yards from the stables at 148, Leyton Road—I saw the prisoner and another man get into the pony trap—it was a grey pony—they drove away towards the Leytonstone Road.
Cross-examined. It was perfectly light and open, I could see everything—there was no disguise about it—it was not done secretly—there was no hurry—I had seen the prisoner two or three days previously in the yard—I recognised him at once when he got in the trap—there was nothing to excite my suspicion—I had been looking through the window.
ARTHUR PRENTICE (82J.) On Monday, August 7th, about 8.20 p.m., I took the prisoner into custody at Brown Road, Leytonstone—he was charged with being drunk in charge of a horse and trap—the grey pony and the trap were afterwards identified by Jones.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was driving in the direction of Leyton or Epping—he was about two miles from Leyton—he gave me his right name and address.
Re-examined. He told me where he got the cart from—there was a name on it, but the owner had only bought it the previous day—the name was of someone in Lea Bridge Road—he said he took it out of Jones' yard—he did not say why or when.
JOHN MARSHAL (Detective). At 12.45 p.m. on August 8th I saw the prisoner at Stratford Police Court after he had been fined for being drunk while in charge of a pony and trap—I said to him, "I am going to arrest you for stealing on Sunday last from the rear of 148, Leyton Road, a horse, cart, and harness"—he said, "You say steal it; I can easily get out of this; I shall tell the Magistrate that he lent it to me; that will do him. I went down the country and bought 200 barrels; I was working for him last week. Someone has put you on to me for this; is it Joe?"—I said "No"—Joe is the brother—he said to the prosecutor, "I shall have you put away for this; I shall open what I know about you. You are doing a fine thing for me"—in answer to the charge he said, "That is right."
Cross-examined. I saw a name on the cart.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I wish to say that Mr. Jones gave me permission to take the trap out on the Sunday or the Monday which I chose; to take it out and wilfully break it up. He told me he had lost £20 since he started himself, and I took the trap out, and got a little the worse for drink. I had no intention to do anything wrong with it; I did not offer it for sale, or anything else.
FREDERICK WILLIAM JONES (Re-examined). It is not true that I gave the prisoner permission to take the trap out on Sunday or Monday, whichever he pleased; nor that he was to take it out and break it up—I had insured my other "lots," but that did not affect the cart—I insured the cart after that—I could not get a penny piece for it then.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had been out to buy barrels jar the prosecutor on commission, and that he took his friend for a drive, got drunk, lost him, and found himself asleep in the forest; that when he awoke he looked about and, finding the pony and trap tied up, he was driving them home with the money for the barrels when he was arrested and charged with stealing them, and that what he said in answer to the charge was only, "How can you charge me with stealing? I had permission to take it out at the time, and not, "I shall tell the Magistrate he lent it me; that will do him."
JOHN MARSHALL (Re-examined). The prisoner, when I told him the charge at the Stratford Petty Sessions', made the statement I have given—these are my notes (Produced)—he made no such statement as that which he alleges in his defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
FREDERICK WILLIAM KINDRED . I am a plumber, and live at 9, Vicarage Gardens, Stratford—I have seen the prisoner pass my house, but I have never associated with him—there was no cause of quarrel between us—on July 22nd, about 10.40, I was sitting at my door when he came along the street—he was not drunk, but he had had enough—without saying anything he knocked me off my chair, caught me in the eye, and got hold of my testicles—I have been unable to do any work since—he was very violent, and I have since been in pain—Dr. Galbraith has ever since attended me.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not insult your daughter's little girl, Alice Duncan, who lives at 3, Union Cottages, West Ham—I know nothing about the child—I know the sister; she is a very respectable woman—Union Cottages are about 100 yards away—you did not say to me, "I thought you were a different sort of man to talk to a little girl as you did"—I did not get up off the chair and say, "Who the b—hell are you?"—you did not answer, "Quite as good a man as you"—we did not fall together—I did not hit you in the mouth and cut your
lip; nor have another round and cut my head on the pavement—I did not come out again after being taken indoors and offer to fight you I was knocked unconscious, and I have the doctor here to prove it—I have no desire to get up a case against you.
EDWIN WISE . I am a coppersmith, of 15, Union Cottages, Vicarage Lane, Stratford, about two yards from 9, Vicarage Gardens—I remember on Saturday, July 22nd, about 10.45 p.m., sitting in my kitchen and hearing shouts of "Murder!"—I rushed out to see what had happened, when I saw the prosecutor on the ground, and the prisoner on the top of him, knocking his head on the ground; there are little square corrugated stones there—I went to them, and had great difficulty in taking the prisoner off—he put his hands between the prosecutor's legs—I saw no retaliation by him—the prisoner walked ten yards, and stood in front of me, and I thought he was going to attack me, but he never said a word—I saw the prosecutor's head was bleeding after the bumping—I told him to come into my house, and I went for a doctor—the whole thing was done in such quick time that I could not tell whether the prisoner was in drink—he was sober enough to walk.
SARAH KINDRED . I am the prosecutor's wife—I remember the Saturday night when my husband was sitting outside his house and I was standing at his side—he is a plumber—the prisoner came along and struck him without any conversation or explanation—he got my husband on the ground, but I could not understand what he was doing, and my husband lost his senses—he was holding him with one hand and beating him on the head with the other—I called Mr. Wise for help—I said, "My husband is being murdered"—Mr. Wise came up and got the prisoner away after a struggle, when the prisoner looked as if he was going to attack him—I only know him by seeing him pass, and saying on several occasions, "Good-night, mam" and I answered him—I know Mrs. Duncan and her daughter by their living at 3, Union Cottages; they are not my friends—I know there is one little girl, and a little boy—they are strangers.
ERNEST SCOTT GALBRATH . I am a medical practitioner at 77, Hart-land Road, Stratford—I was called to the prosecutor's house about 10.45 p.m. on July 22nd—I attended to him and found he was suffering from a jagged wound on the right side of his head—his head and face were covered with blood—I dressed the wound, which was about 1 ¼ or 1 1/2 in long, extending from front to back—it might have been caused by his head being bumped on the ground with great violence—the next morning he came to my place, and I examined him more thoroughly, when I found an abrasion on one arm, and the left thumb considerably swollen, a cut behind his ear, and he complained of his testicles being in pain—I found one testicle very much larger than the other, which might have been caused by its being touched violently—the injury was serious as the testicle is a vital part—he is all right now so far as I know—I last saw him three weeks ago.
F. W. KINDRED (Re-examined by the COURT). My testicle is not yet right—when walking along I feel as if I am going to fall over—the swelling has gone down from the lotion given.
E. S. GALBRATH (Re-examined). The prosecutor is of a nervous disposition, and this has upset him very much—his thumb is necessary for going up and down ladders in his work and he is anxious to get to work—I saw him several times and afterwards every second day—he did not keep his bed; he had his testicle suspended—I saw him yesterday, but have not examined him for three weeks, as I was away for my holidays [The COURT directed the witness to make a further examination]—having again examined the prosecutor I find him practically well except his right thumb—his left testicle is tender, but the swelling has subsided—he should get well in a few weeks—the terminal joint of the thumb is inflamed—it may require medical treatment—I have done my best for him, and have no objection to his going to the London Hospital.
PETER PLNT (644 K.) About 7 a.m. on August 14th I found the prisoner detained at West Ham police station—I read the warrant to him which charged him with this offence—he made no reply—afterwards he said, u I ought to have turned up at the Police Court. I have been a fool not to have attended when first summoned"—he was originally summoned on July 28th, but failed to appear, and a warrant was issued, upon which I took him—on the way to the Court he said, "I will stand my ground"—he said he had been in St. George's workhouse—he is a scaffolder.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I never pulled him down off the chair at all. I spoke, to him about my daughter's little girl, and he got up out of the chair and said, 'Who the b—hell are you?' When we got up we had a bit of a row, and he hit me, bruising my bottom lip and cutting it. On that I hit him, and we had another bit of a bother, and he fell down and cut the back of his head."
The prisoner repeated his defence, and added that the prosecutor struck him first, when he spoke about his daughter's little girl, and said he was at good a man as he was; that a dog had run into a field, and the prosecutor had said to the little girl, "I will break your b—neck, "and when he spoke to the prosecutor about it he got hold of him by the collar, and in the fight they went down together.
Witness for the Defence.
FLORENCE VINCE . I am married, and live at 12, Vicarage Gardens—the prisoner's wife is my husband's sister—on Saturday, July 22nd, I was going for an errand about 10.50 p.m. when I saw the prisoner and the prosecutor talking together outside the prosecutor's house; the prisoner was asking him what he wanted to speak to his grand-daughter for, like he did—the prosecutor said he was not aware who he was speaking to; with that they got talking together, and then there was a fight; the prosecutor got the worst of it and fell down—I went for a policeman, and when I came back he had been taken indoors.
Cross-examined. My brother-in-law was the worse for drink—the prosecutor is a quiet, inoffensive man always—both men got up—the prisoner started the violence first—the prosecutor got up off his chair—I did not see his head violently bumped on the ground; I had gone for
a policeman—the prosecutor lives in the front, and I live in the back of the house—my back entrance is towards the field, but you can get into the field another way by getting over some iron rails—there is no difficulty in doing so—I have not seen anybody doing it—I saw no girl there—the girl referred to is my niece, and lives at Vicarage Cottages—she was not in the field, but passing by when there was a dog in the field, and the prosecutor told her to take the dog out because he did not want more chicks killed, but this row was two or three weeks after that—my little girl told me about the dog—I do not suppose the prosecutor used bad language to her—I was sent by the prisoner to the prosecutor to offer him a half-sovereign for his injuries—he refused it, and said he would not take 20s.
GUILTY of felonious wounding. Eighteen months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
New Court, September 12th, 1905.
WILLIAM ANTHONY HOPE . I am a registered medical practitioner—about 8.15 a.m. on August 26th I was called to the prisoner's house, 6, May Road, Plaistow—a woman had died there—on getting there I thought it right to send for a constable, and Fisher came and searched the house—there was a smell of acid in the place and I thought we would see where the poison with which she had poisoned herself was—in the back room upstairs on the top of the cupboard there was a bottle labelled "Oil of Vitrol"—a small parcel containing twenty-seven counterfeit shillings, a mould for sixpences, and a bottle of ammonia—I took the parcel to my surgery, where I found the twenty-seven coins altogether.
FRANCIS FISHER (130 K.) About 8.30 on August 26th I was sent for by Dr. Hope to 6, May Road—in company with him I searched the house and found a bottle labelled "Oil of Vitrol," a bottle containing antimony in the back bedroom of the first floor on the top of a cupboard; also this battery, this small paper parcel, and a mould for sixpences (Produced)—I did not see the prisoner there at all.
CHARLES HULTON (Detective-Sergeant). About 11.30 p.m. on August 26th I went in company with Detective Reed to 6, May Road, which has two upstairs and two downstairs rooms and a wash-house—on searching the house, on the top of a cupboard in the back room upstairs I found a shilling mould dated 1892, a piece of sand paper, and in the bottom of the cupboard a small saucepan containing antimony, a bag of plaster of Paris and a brush—on the wainscotting a file; in the wash-house some sand in a paper and two spoons, one of which had metal in it—in the room there was only a small table, which had evidently been used for placing hot metal upon; a portion of it was burnt—in the front room upstairs there were three beds, and downstairs there was a sofa and a table in the living room—in the kitchen there was a clock and a few portions of
crockeryware on the dresser—the fire grid upstairs had only recently been used.
Cross-examined. You were in bed when you were arrested.
By the COURT. When arrested and told the charge he only said, "Oh, my poor Polly," referring to the dead woman downstairs—when at the station he said, "I do not know anything about them; they belong to the lodger."
GEORGE REED (Detective-Sergeant). I went to Dr. Hope's and got from him certain articles which are produced here to-day—at 11.30 p.m. on May 26th I went to 6, May Road, Plaistow, where I saw the prisoner, who was lying on the bed—I roused him and said, "Are you the landlord of this house?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer and I am going to take you into custody for being in possession of implements for the manufacture of counterfeit coin"—he raised his arms up and said. "Oh, my poor Polly"—he was detained in the house while Hulton and myself searched it—I afterwards took him to the police station, when on being charged he said, "I know nothing of them; they belong to the lodger"—I searched him and found these two counterfeit shillings in his inside breast pocket, dated 1892 (Produced).
EVA RABY . I am the wife of Mr. Thomas Raby, estate agent, of 12, Queen's Road, West Ham—the prisoner with his wife came to us on July 25th and we let 6, Hay Road, to him at 7s. 6d. a week—they said that they were sack makers, and wanted a house with a back gate, which 6, May Road, had.
GERTRUDE MARSHALL . I am the wife of Francis John Marshall and live at 8, May Road, next door to No. 6, which was occupied by the prisoner and his wife from about the beginning of August—a man came to live with them—I have seen them all go out at different times, and several times the prisoner and the man go out together—I slept in the back bedroom upstairs, which is separated from the upstairs back bedroom of No. 6 by a wall—I have heard men's voices in the room when I have been upstairs from midnight till early in the morning, and I have heard them poking the fire several times during that time.
By the COURT. I have seen a third man, a dark man, come in very late at night sometimes and go out early in the morning—just half an hour before the prisoner was arrested I saw that man go out.
ALFRED MALCOLM MARTIN . I am a potman of the Duke of Portland, Plashet Grove, West Ham—the prisoner came to the house about the middle of July and asked for a pint and a half of ale, tendering a florin in payment—on looking at it I found it was bad and returned it to him, when he said, "That is all right, old sport; I must have got that from the fish market"—he paid me with three coppers—about a week after he came in, and ordered a packet of Woodbines, tendering a "florin in payment—I found that also to be bad and gave it him back, when he gave me a penny.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I never went with your wife to a jeweller to see whether a coin she had tendered was bad, nor have I gone with
you for the same purpose—if your wife told you that I did, she told you a lie—I knew nothing of your wife.
JOHN KINCH . I am an oil and colour man, of 19, Kelly Road, Plaistow—about August 2nd the prisoner came into my shop and asked for a pennyworth of nails, saying he had recently moved down here—I supplied him and he tendered a shilling in payment—I did not like the look of it and said, "This will not do for me"—he said he had just had it in change from the Nelson—he gave me a good shilling and I gave him his change—he went out and I noticed that he took an opposite direction to the Nelson; he went into the corner shop almost opposite—he came back and asked for another pennyworth of nails for hanging pictures—he tendered a shilling which in my opinion was counterfeit and I refused it—he said he was glad I had noticed, it as it was the second he had had in one week—I gave it him back and he gave me a good penny.
JANE BLUNDER . I am the wife of George Blunder, of 24, Pelly Road, West Ham, tobacconist and confectioner—my shop is opposite Kinch's—between 3 and 4 p.m., I think, on August 2nd, the prisoner came into my shop for a packet of Woodbines, tendering a shilling in payment—by the look of it I saw it was bad, and I handed him it back—he made no comment whatever, but paid me with a good sixpence, for which I gave him change, and he went away.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—these two shillings found on the prisoner are both counterfeit and from the same mould—there are twenty-seven others here that I have also examined and find to be all counterfeit and from the same mould as the two found upon him—this is the single shilling mould from which those coins have been made; it has had a little wear—this is a single mould for sixpences—the galvanic battery, files, moulds, antimony, and plaster of Paris that have been found all form part of the stock-in-trade of a coiner.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that on coining home on the Saturday night he found that his wife had taken poison; that on looking for the bottle he found two shillings on the mantelpiece of his lodger's room which he had put in his pocket; that he knew nothing of the articles found, as they all belonged to his lodger.
GUILTY . A number of previous convictions were proved against him. He was stated to be a most dangerous man and an associate of thieves and coiners. Five years' penal Servitude.
Fourth Court, September 13th, 1905.
MR. WHITE Prosecuted.
GUILTY . He received a good character. Two months' hard labour.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C,
Fifth Court, September 13th, 1905.
(698.) GEORGE BASS (17) to stealing two live rabbits, the goods of Daniel Sharing, having been convicted of felony in November, 1904. Three other convictions were proved against him. Three months in the Second Division. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(699.) CHARLES GRAHAM (27) to burglary in the dwelling house of William Davies and stealing two teapots and other articles, his property, having been convicted of felony on December 31st, 1904, at the North London Police Court, in the name of Charles Nolan. Six other convictions were proved against him, and he was said to belong to a very dangerous gang of thieves. Three years' penal servitude. A witness, Minnie Reed, who caught hold of the prisoner and kept him, was commended by the COURT and awarded £2. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
700. JOHN WILLIAM WETHERELL (23), FREDERICK FINCH (22), and EMILY HERMAN (30) , Breaking into the shop of Robert Ready and stealing five shirts and other articles. Second count. Feloniously receiving, the same. WETHERELL PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HENRY CHAPLIN . I live at 6, North street, Barking, and am manager to Robert Ready, who has a shop at 65, East Street, Barking—no one resides there—I locked it up on September 6th and when I left at 10 p.m. the premises were fastened up and secure—next morning at 8, before I unlocked the door, I saw the window was all upset—the back room facing the yard had been ransacked; the window shutter had been forced, and the window was open—entry could be obtained through the window, which was all right the night before—I communicated with the police—I have identified these articles as the property of my employer and as having been stolen—we missed a blue serge suit, a blue serge jacket and vest, nine shirts and nine silk handkerchiefs—at the station I identified four shirts and three silk handkerchiefs—in the shop I found one old shirt, one old silk handkerchief, one old table knife, and a blouse which had been left behind by the thieves—I gave them to the police.
ALFRED GOUGH . I am manager at 22 and 24, North Street, Barking, to Robert Willett, pawnbroker—on September 7th, at 9.30 a.m., Herman came to my shop, bringing these three shirts and a jacket, and offered to pledge them—I declined to take them and she took them away; I had no conversation with her—I communicated with Mr. Chapman because I met him the first thing in the morning before the things were offered and he told me his place had been broken open—I afterwards communicated with the police.
JAMES BENZI (Sergeant 38 K.) On September 7th, at 8.30, I received certain information from the prosecutor—at 9.30 a.m. I stopped Herman, who was carrying a parcel—I said to her, "What have you got in the
parcel?"—she said, '" Only a few things I was taking to pawn"—I looked at them and saw they were new clothing, three skirts and a jacket—I said, "Where did you get them?"—she said, "A dark man gave me them to pawn"—I said, "What is his name?"—she said, I don't know"—I said, "I shall have to detain you for being in unlawful possession of these goods; I think they come from Ready's place"—she said, "You know the dark man gave them to me round at No. 6"—I went to 6, Trafalgar Square, and saw Finch and Wetherell there—I said to Herman, "Which of these men gave you the clothing to pawn?"—she said, "That one," pointing to Wetherell—I saw he was wearing some of the stolen property—I said to Finch, "Can you account for the new silk handkerchief you have on?"—he was wearing this one—he said, "Yes, I bought that up the road some time ago out of my last pension money"—I told all three they would be charged with being concerned together in breaking and entering 65, East Street, belonging to Mr. Ready, and receiving the property—Herman said, "I did not know there was anything wrong with them"—Finch said, "I can easily clear myself"—when charged at the station Wetherell said, "I went and broke into the place myself"—Finch said, "I can prove I was in all night"—in a cupboard in the front room, where I found the prisoners, I found a pair of trousers, a vest and other things, which were identified by Chapman as part of the proceeds of the robbery—some of the stolen property was found on Herman, and the rest was in the cupboard except what was being worn by Wetherell and Finch—Wetherell had on a shirt, a silk handkerchief, and a pair of socks, and Finch had on a silk handkerchief.
JOHN BEER (Inspector K.) On September 7th, about 10 o'clock, I went to 65, East Street, Barking, where Chapman handed me certain things which I took to the police station; on their being produced to the prisoners, Wetherell identified the shirt, the neckerchief he is now wearing, and also this table knife—as to the woman's bodice, he said, "I don't know anything about that; it is not mine"—I corroborate Mr. Chapman as to the state in which the premises were—I suppose Robert Ready terms himself a second-hand clothier—the stuff that was stolen is new.
In their statements before the Magistrate Wetherell said he did it himself and the other prisoners knew nothing about it; that he asked Herman to pawn the things and would not tell her where he got then,.
Finch and Herman each said they had been in bed all night.
Finch, in a written defence, stated that he got his parents' permission to allow Wetherell and Herman to sleep in his parents' house on the night of the 5th; that on going downstairs in the morning he saw Wetherell with a new shirt and silk handkerchief on; that he asked where Wetherell had got them, but received no reply; that he tried on the handkerchief and had no sooner put it on than he was locked up; and that he had worked hard and did not know that Wetherell had been carrying on that game.
Herman, in her defence on oath, said that on the Tuesday and Wednesday she and Wetherell slept in the Finch's kitchen; that to her knowledge Wetherell did not go out during the night; that on the Thursday he gave her the things
and asked her to pawn them, but the men would not take them; that on coming outside she met two policemen who asked where she got them; that she said a dark man gave them to her as she was too confused to remember his name, and afterwards at the house she pointed out Wetherell; that the things were on the Finchs' kitchen table on Thursday morning, and had not been there the night before; that Finch slept upstairs that night; that Wetherell gave Finch the handkerchief he had on; and that the blouse found at the shop was not hers, and she knew nothing about it.
FINCH and HERMAN GUILTY of receiving. (See next case.)
701. JOHN WILLIAM WETHERELL then PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the shop of Anna Elizabeth Danes and stealing a jacket and other articles. The police stated that Wetherell and Finch had been discharged from the Army with fair characters; that Finch had been at work at Beckon and bore a good character there as a workman, but that Wetherell had done no work; and that Herman had left her husband and five children six weeks before, taking one child with her. WETHERELL— Nine months' hard labour. HERMAN and FINCH— Discharged on recognisances.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
ARTHUR HARRISON (212 K.) About 4.30 on August 16th I was on duty in Carnarvon Road, Stratford, when I heard a noise at the rear of No. 83, an empty house—I found the side gate open and went through to the rear and there saw the prisoner taking the zinc from a slanting roof at the side of the house; he could reach it from the ground—he was doubling up the zinc and putting it into a sack—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "All right, governor, I just came in here to ease myself"—I said, "Where?"—he said, "Just behind you"—I did not see anything, and said, "What are you doing with the zinc?"—he said, "All right, governor, I did not thing I was doing any harm; I am going to take it to a place where I can sell it"—I said, "I am going to take you to the station"—there were about 28 lbs. of zinc in the sack, and more was lying on the ground—there was room for more in the sack—some of that on the ground had been pulled off recently—it was a circular roof, some of it 6 feet and, some 9 feet high, so he could reach the zinc from the ground—it was a furnished house to let.
WILLIAM DAVID NORMAN . I am a member of the firm of Norman & Sons, auctioneers, of Stratford, and agents to Arthur Frederick Weightman, the owner of 83, Carnarvon Road—I have examined the roof of the shed or lean to there—the zinc has been stripped off and damage done to the extent of about 25s., plus the price of the zinc—the prisoner had no right to touch it, or to be on the premises.
had been effected by opening a door and passing through the side entrance—the whole of the zinc on the top of a roof at the rear of the house I found had been stripped off, evidently cut or torn, because the edges in the sack were quite bright; the edges remain bright a very short time—it had been recently done.
The prisoner, in a written defence, stated that he went for a natural purpose to the rear of this empty house, which he saw had been broken open and entered, and that five boys ran out; that he saw the sack and the zinc on the ground, and was putting the zinc in the sack, thinking he might sell it, when he was arrested.
Witness for the Defence.
MRS. BENNETT. I am the prisoner's wife; he left my place on the day he was arrested about 4 o'clock—I live at 183, Chopin Road, Leyton, about half an hour's walk from where the zinc was stolen.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on April 15th, 1904. Three other convictions were proved against him. It was stated that he did no work, and was the constant associate of thieves. Two years' hard labour.
New Court, September 13th, 1905.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Third Court, September 13th, 1905.
(705.) SAMUEL JOHN ALLSOPP (19) and CHARLES BELL (17) to burglary in the dwelling house of Alfred Heston and stealing three boxes of cigars, six packets of cigarettes, and 2s. 6d. in money; and the said SAMUEL JOHN ALLSOPP, the said CHAPLES BELL, and GEORGE BELL (20) to stealing two fountain pens, three pocket knives, and 10s. in money, the property of Samuel Clement Simpson; also to feloniously breaking into St. Peter's Roman Catholic Church and stealing 25s. in money, Charles Bell and George Bell having been convicted of felony at Woolwich on March 30th, 1905. GEORGE BELL, against whom three other convictions were proved— Three years' penal servitude. CHARLES BELL, against whom another conviction was proved— Nine months' hard labour; and ALLSOPP, against whom three convictions were proved— Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Fourth Court, September 13th, 1905
706. DANIEL SMITH (25) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a request for the payment of money with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony at Gravesend Police Court on December 24th; 1901. Four other convictions were proved against him— Fifteen months' hard labour.
Fifth Court, September 13th, 1905.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
Old Court, September 13th, 1905.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. PROFUMO Defended.
BERTHA ELIZABETH POPPLE . I am fourteen years old and lived with the prisoner, who is my stepfather, and my mother at 2, Sandringham Buildings, Walworth—there were also living in the house my sisters Lilian, aged twelve, Ada, aged eight, Violet, aged four, and Gladys, aged two—the prisoner and my mother occupied one room and we children another—Lilian and I slept in one bed with one of the other children at the foot of it and the others in separate cots—the prisoner was engaged as a driver by Mr. Cornell—we were all at home on August 5th and went to bed as usual—on the early morning of August 6th I was waked by Ada crying, who was in a separate bed—I do not know what time it was—I saw the prisoner leaving the room—he had only his trousers on—I did not see him do anything in the room—I got out of bed and saw Gladys with her throat out and I saw her breathe her last breath—my half sister Violet was dead with her throat cut, and Ada also had her throat cut—I screamed out and my mother came in—I ran into the passage and saw the prisoner in the scullery trying to out his throat with a razor—shortly, afterwards a policeman came.
Cross-examined. Before that day the prisoner seemed to be in low spirits—I remember an occasion at tea time after he had been out looking for work that he only eat bread when the usual meat tea was before him—I cried because it was unusual and went and told my mother—he had been out of work for three weeks—when mother was in the kitchen he would go into the front room and when she was in the front room he would go into the kitchen, so as not to be in the same room with her—I thought that was strange—he had not done so when he was in work—my mother
did not complain to him when he had no work—she did not nag at him—he was very kind to us and made no difference between us, who were his step children, and his own children—we were exceedingly fond of him—there was no reason why he should have committed these acts—he was not angry with us.
HUGH DAVIES (283 L.) About 5.30 a.m. on August 6th I heard screams coming from Sandringham Buildings—I saw the prisoner in his scullery with a razor in his hand cutting at his right arm at the elbow—I took the razor from him and noticed that blood was coming from his neck—he said, "It is all right; I have killed my three children. I will go quietly; I did not want to see them starve"—he spoke very quietly—I was in uniform—he had a slight cut on his neck, but was able to walk to the station—at the station he said, "I have been out of work for a fortnight. There is no prospect of any more until September. The old razor would not cut butter. I wish it had been sharp; I would have cut my own head off. I intended to do this; I have been thinking about this for the last three days. I stropped the razor last night. I got up at 5 o'clock this morning"—this (Produced) is the razor—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. When he said he had been thinking about this for the last three days I do not know if he was thinking of killing himself or the children.
WILLIAM MANN (Inspector L.) Shortly before 6 a.m. on August 6th I went to Sandringham Buildings and found Gladys and Violet in a bed-room there dead—Ada had been removed to the hospital—I returned to the station and saw the prisoner—I cautioned him and told him he would be charged with murdering the two children, and injuring a third, and attempting to commit suicide—he made no reply—he was searched—2s. 8d. was found in his pockets and a key—he asked that the key and the money might be handed to his wife—he seemed rational and sober.
JOHN FRANCIS SMITH . I am a medical practitioner, of 44, Rodney Road, Walworth—at 5.30 a.m. on August 6th I was called to 2, Sandringham Buildings, and saw Gladys dead with a wound in her throat about 2 1/2 inches deep and 3 inches long—the external jugular vein was severed and the windpipe was cut—the body was still warm—I also saw the body of Violet; she had a similar wound in her throat, about 3 1/2 inches long, but it was very much deeper than in the other case—she also had recently died—I also saw on a couch Ada, who had a deep wound in her throat of the same character—I sent her to the hospital—all the wounds could have been caused by this razor—next day I made a post-mortem examination on the two bodies—the cause of death in each case was syncope and loss of blood.
Cross-examined. I have not had much experience of cases of mental depression—I have not seen the prisoner at all.
JOHN MORELAND MACVALE . I am a medical practitioner at 129, Camberwell Road—on August 6th, about 6.45 a.m., I saw the prisoner at the police station—I examined his neck and found a long superficial scratch on the right side 3 1/2 inches long—in the front of his neck there was a wound 2 inches long just through the skin—on the left side there were five
scratches, all superficial—blood had not come from them in any quantity—inside the bend of his right elbow there were two skin scratches about 2 inches long, and on the left arm there were five wounds from 1 to 3 inches long, all in the bend of the elbow, all recent, and they all might have been caused by this razor—he did not seem conscious of his position—he was dull and rather apathetic—some one was cutting a bandage and the scissors were very blunt—they remarked on it, and the prisoner said, "It is only fit for the scrap heap, like my razor"—he was quite sober.
CHARLES WEEKS . I live at 11, Jessop Road, Herne Hill, and am foreman to Robert Cornell, who has stables at Loughborough Junction—the prisoner was employed there for about twelve months ending on July 22nd—he was employed in driving a traveller named Mr. Barnes—I discharged him, telling him that Mr. Barnes would not have him to drive him any more, but if he showed up for job work on the Monday he could have it—that was on July 22nd—he did not come and I never saw him again—he had a week's notice on the 15th—he was earning 25s. a week—he was a sober man, punctual and a good workman.
Cross-examined. If he had come to me on the Monday morning I could have found him an odd job—he would then have earned 4s. a day—he would get less than before because he got tips, and it might have been only odd days—if his idea was that there was no prospect of his getting any work at all it would not be correct—he was at times somewhat erratic, passionate and eccentric—at times when one said "Good-morning "to him he would not answer, and at other times he would say "Good-morning" first—I never noticed that he was depressed—he would be very reserved and quiet—if anything upset him he was very passionate—when washing his brougham at night if he had to move it out of the way of any other man he would get into a passion and throw his pail about, but it was soon over and he would apologise next morning if he had done any harm—I had no fault to find with him as a workman—I never received any letters from him and I do not think my employers have.
ROBERT LINDSAY . I am district manager at Peckham for Messrs. Tillings, job masters—the prisoner was formerly employed by them at Peckham under me for nearly ten years—he was coachman to commercial travellers—he left about May, 1904—I do not know if he went to Messrs. Cornell—about 8 p.m. on August 5th last I saw him one of our yards in the Borough—he came to give an order for a wedding carriage—I believe he came rather to apply for the engagement—I asked him in a jocular manner if he was going to get married—he said, "No, I should rather be buried"—he then asked if I could give him employment—I said I could not as a coachman—he then applied for employment in the stables as a horse-keeper—I said that even in that respect I could not promise him anything, although if there was anything going I should see he had it—he said that in a short time his children would be starving—the wedding order would not bring him any commission and would not smooth his path with us, but it gave him an opportunity of getting into conversion with me—I did not mention any date when there would be employment in the stables.
Cross-examined. I always found him honest, sober, and industrious—I found that his behaviour was at all times erratic and eccentric—he was very passionate and quarrelsome with his fellow men—after he got into these tempers he frequently wrote to me about it afterwards—they were not wandering letters; they were to the point from his point of view—he often sent me a long letter after having spoken to me—I did not keep the letters—I got accustomed to his manner, so I took very little notice of his letters—on several occasions I enquired into his complaints about his fellow workmen, but there was nothing in them—we removed him from our stables to get over some difficulties—I have no doubt that he believed what he was writing about—I had him under my supervision for nearly three years—I did not give him notice to leave—he ran down and injured a person and he was dismissed as a coachman, but he was employed later on for a couple of months as horse-keeper—I do not know if he was a teetotaller—he was an abstemious man and he may have been chipped for not going into public-houses—when I saw him on August 5th he was in rather a different condition to what I had seen him before—he told me that he had been out of employment for some weeks—when I told him we could not re-engage him it had no apparent effect upon him—he was very downcast the whole time—I got a letter from him while he was in prison.
Evidence for the Defence.
EMILY POPPLE . I am the prisoner's wife—we have been married for over eleven years—I have had four children by him; one died some, time ago—I have two children by a former husband—the prisoner was employed for just over ten years by Tillings—he received 25s. a week, all of which he gave to me—he was a good husband and a good father—he made no difference between his own children and his step-children—he has been subject to attacks of depression and low spirits—he has repeatedly held his head in his hands with his elbows on the table—when I asked him if his head ached he said no, but it felt as if it was being jammed between two doors or in a vice—I asked him if it was the traffic that made him feel bewildered, but he said it was nothing to do with the driving—his idea was always that he could not do sufficient for me and the children—he was afraid that we should come to want, and always thought he could not get enough money for us—that was when he was in work, when there was no necessity to bother—once when I was buying new boots and clothes he said I must be a very good woman to be able to manage so—he was not particularly depressed as to where the next pair was to come from—when he was out of work I did a little washing but I had to hide it from him, because he did not like to see me out at work—none of the children did any—the eldest is fourteen—I was able to keep the house going for about three weeks—I had not saved very much—there was no money in the savings bank—I had enough to pay a week's rent—I gave the prisoner the same tea or supper when he was out of work as when he was in work; there was no difference during those there weeks—he did not ask me how I was doing it, but said I should not be
able to keep it on—it was on the Thursday before August 6th that Bertha came in and said that Daddy was only eating bread for tea—I asked him why he should eat a piece of dry bread and he said, "That is plenty good enough for me; I have not earned anything"—during those three weeks he seemed very depressed and seemed to want to be alone—he would go into the front room if I was in the kitchen, and if I was in the front room he would go into the kitchen—he said the reason was because he felt so low spirited and did not care to talk—the fits of depression would sometimes last half an hour and sometimes longer—he would stay out for two hours and come back quite different—he was not exactly a teetotaller, but he never drank—he would go from week to week and perhaps only drink a drain out of my half-pint on Saturday or Sunday—he smoked a little—at times he was depressed while he was in work—sometimes he was upset by something at his work—very little simple things upset him—there were no quarrels with me or the children—I can give no motive for his having continued these acts—he was most good to his children and bore them no ill-will—I have often seen him depressed and could get no answer from him—on the occasion of my sister's wedding, seven years ago, he was best man—he appeared all right during the ceremony—we had a wedding dinner about 2 o'clock, but when it was over he was missing and did not come back to 11.30 p.m., when everybody had gone—he had no quarrel with anybody—he did not bid anybody "Good-bye—when he returned he did not give anybody any reason—when Ivy Grace was born, which was on a Friday, the prisoner came into the room on the Monday and spoke about there being no meat left from the Sunday—I said, "Don't bother about it, I will see to it"—in the evening he came in and said, "There is no meat"—I said, "It does not matter; you can get something for yourself," and he then started picking up the things and throwing them about—he picked up a jug of cold water and poured it over me—I got out of bed when I saw him in such a temper—about half an hour afterwards he came in for forgiveness and said he was sorry—on various occasions he would smash articles of furniture—five or six weeks before this case he sat down to write a letter—I said, "Who are you writing to?"—he said, "Woman, don't ask me my business; leave the room"—before I could do so he started clearing the table and the mantelpiece—at that time he was in work—he would get cross if anything was out of its place—when he said, "Woman, leave the room, "I went back in about thirty minutes and he said, "Go, my dear, into the other room while I clear the mess away"—he was always very kind after he had had these fits—on the Friday before the Saturday when this case happened our bible should have been on the workbox, but it was underneath—he said, "Who put the bible here?" and he took it up and threw it to the other side of the street—I said, "How stupid to do that"—he said, "Well, things should be in their proper place"—he seemed to be very downhearted at times and would not speak at all—his face would be very pale—he would take no notice of anything—at times he said he could not earn enough money to keep the children as he liked—that was when he was in work—he constantly wrote letters—sometimes he would write
two a day to me while he was living with me—he would write about a clock if it was too slow and if he was late for his work—he would post the letters—sometimes he would get back to tea; I have sometimes had a letter at 10.30 a.m.—sometimes he would write and say he wanted me to make porridge for him instead of getting his dinner ready—I have not got any of the letters—if one of the children was not well he would write and tell me to take him to the doctor's—I have not heard that he thinks I am in any way to blame for the crime—if my husband says so, it is a delusion—I do not consider that he was right in his mind when he did this, because he was so good and kind—once he said the flower stand was not useful where children were, so he placed it in the street round the corner.
Cross-examined. Most of the eleven years that we have been married he has been in work—he has been out occasionally waiting, when Tilling's contract has gone off—I have had complaints of his eccentric ways from the people he has worked for, at he has always been a good workman—it has never been suggested that he should be locked up—at times he has shaved himself, but I do not think recently—this razor was kept in the drawer in the bedroom; I think he used it to cut his corns—it has not been used by him recently for shaving—I did not see him do anything with it on the Saturday night—he said he stropped it; he had a strop hanging in the scullery—I did not notice anything different about him on the Saturday night to what he had been during the rest of the week—he used to go out to work about 5.30 a.m. and sometimes be home about 7.30 or 8 p.m.—if he was at home he would go to bed about 10 or 10.30—if he was late home he would go to bed directly he came in—he was a good sleeper except lately, I think.
Re-examined. He had very sleepless nights during the week before the act—he did not go out much during that time—I packed him up a little food to take with him when he went out—I do not know if he eat it; he did not bring it home.
By the JURY. I do not know if he threw the flower stand into the street or arranged the flowers—he said he put them round the corner, but I never see them after he took them away.
GEORGINA GRACE EDMUNDS . I am the wife of William Edwards and sister to the last witness—the prisoner has been very funny during his married life—he was a very good husband and father—on the day that I was married he was very nice all the morning until after dinner, when he went out and we saw no more of him—that is seven years ago—I know that he was depressed at times, and especially when he was out of work—I did not see him when he was last out of work—I never got letters from him except since he has been in prison.
BETSY ANN POPPLE . I am a widow—my husband had one child, who is the prisoner—he is not my child; he was the only child of the other marriage—I had him when he was six years old—I considered him strange and eccentric as a child—he was at school at Doncaster for a time, and came backwards and forwards to me occasionally, and then he went to work there, but I do not know the date—his aunt and uncle sent him home because they were afraid he would get drowned, as he was so
food of the water—I know that his father's sister died in a lunatic asylum—while the prisoner has been under my care and supervision he has behaved strangely.
Cross-examined. His father has been dead close on ten years; he was all right—I do not know that he had any brothers or sisters who died in an asylum—he had one brother who is still alive; he is all right—he had three sisters, all of whom are all right.
GEORGE BARNES . I live at 30, Beckwith Road, Dulwich, and am a commercial traveller in the drapery business—the prisoner was my coach-man for eleven months—taking him all round, he was very proficient—all I had to complain of was his outbursts of temper—if I corrected him in any way he would have these tempers and then drive in a very erratic and unsafe way—he was sober while he was with me, honest and punctual, and a very good servant indeed—he occasionally spoke of his children, and I had the impression that he was a good father and fond of them—after the outbursts of temper he was depressed and rather morose.
WILLIAM HENRY BUTTER STODDART , M.D., M.R.C.P. I am assistant medical officer at the Bethlehem Royal Hospital for mental disorders—I am a Gaskell gold medallist and a lecturer on mental disorders and I have written on various subjects of diseases of the brain—I have had a large experience in these matters and have been at Bethlehem in my present position for seven years—there-are two officers above me, the other assistant and the superintendent—I have been in Court during the whole of this case and have read the depositions—with Dr. Scott I have seen the prisoner once—he was not depressed out of proportion to the circumstances in which he was placed, but from what he told me I came to the conclusion that he was depressed out of proportion to the circumstances at the time of the commission of the crime—I came to the conclusion that he was suffering from melancholia at that time and that I should have certified that he was insane if I had seen him for three days previously—I thought he was suffering from melancholia at the time of the commission of the crime, and for three days previously—he had lost the natural instinct of self-preservation—he told me he had intended to commit suicide for those three days and that he did not intend to kill his children until the last moment when he was about to commit suicide, when he thought that he could not leave his wife with the responsibility of those starving children, and that people would say he had done away with himself, but had left a lot of trouble behind him if he left the children alive—he told me he had been out of work and sleepless for the whole of the week previous to the act—I did not think of the fact that he had killed his own children rather than his step-children, but it strikes me now that it is a natural instinct to preserve one's own offspring and that instinct had obviously gone—my opinion is that at the time he committed these acts he was prevented by mental disease from controlling his conduct.
Cross-examined. I have had one other case of a criminal lunatic—it is obvious that the prisoner has been of an unstable mental condition for years—he had imaginary grievances and was erratic and eccentric—he
used to worry about the future when there was no necessity, and he had an idea that he thinks his wife is responsible for his actions, but I do not think he said anything about that to me—the natural instinct of self-preservation is inborn—in my opinion nearly every one who attempts to commit suicide must be insane—if a man was about to be burned I should say his suicide would be justifiable, but except in cases where a man is avoiding death I think if he takes his own life he is insane—I mentioned incidentally that the prisoner felt he ought not to leave his wife burdened with the children, but I do not attach much importance to that, and I did not mention the fact that he had said that he did not intend to kill his children until the last minute, as a sign of insanity—I regard his sleeplessness as a symptom of insanity—anybody who is overworked or underworked may suffer from sleeplessness, and not be insane—it is a mental disorder and one would not call it insanity or a symptom of insanity; no one would use it in signing a certificate—I have heard more than once of men who are about to commit suicide resolving to murder their children—it is a thing which occurs with much far too great a frequency—if a man says, "I am going out of the world and I think it is better for my children that they should die at the same time," he is insane already because he intends to commit suicide; the two instincts are inborn—I should say that a man who does not resolve to commit suicide, but resolves to murder his children because he thinks they are better out of the way, is insane, and a man may do that without being responsible in law, if he takes that view.
By the COURT. A man who takes the lives of his children because he thinks they are better out of the world is insane.
Re-examined. I base my opinion upon the whole of the case—a man who has had experience in insanity is able to come to a conclusion in a case of this kind as far as the mental condition is concerned, and I consider that a man who takes away the life of those he loves best must do it from an insane point of view.
Evidence in Reply.
JAMES SCOTT . I am medical officer of Brixton prison and was formerly chief medical officer at Holloway prison—I have been in those two prisons altogether nearly nine years and have had pass under my observation a large number of prisoners said or suggested to be insane, and it has been my duty to give evidence in all those cases—I have had the prisoner under my observation—he came into the prison on August 7th and I have constantly had him under my observation since August 25th, when I saw him first—I have noticed his demeanour—he has been depressed mentally, he is quiet and reserved, he shows some little eccentricities of manner, but during that time I have not detected any evidence of insanity on which I could have founded a certificate—I have had many conversations with him about himself, his history, and this case—he has been depressed all the time, but not more than I should expect under the circumstances—I think he was in a condition to know the quality of his act and the difference between right and wrong, but not to the full
extent, owing to his extreme state of despondency—I think he knew the nature of his act, but I do not think he fully realised the quality, or to know when he was doing a wrong act.
Cross-examined. A person in a state of extreme anger does not fully realise the quality of his act—I think the heinousness of the prisoner's act was not fully realised by him—the prisoner told me that he had been subject to fits of depression—I have heard the witnesses who spoke of the prisoner's depression, but that does not alter my opinion—there are cases where a man suffers from temporary mental aberration and is not responsible for the crime he commits, but except in cases of epilepsy temporary mental aberration is rare—there are cases of temporary lapses of memory, but I cannot speak of them from my own experience—there are cases of loss of control—I recognise Dr. Stoddart's position, but I cannot go so far as to say that the prisoner at the time of these acts had not control of his mental faculties—I agree with Dr. Stoddart that the prisoner was in a state of extreme despondency, and that his judgment and control would be to some extent affected by it—I do not think the circumstances justify the act—most crimes are done in what are called insane processes of reason—I found no evidence of malice here, but that does not alter my opinion—I have heard nothing to the contrary stated but that he had love for his children and home—the only motive I can suggest for this crime is the fear of approaching poverty for them all—I could not have certified the prisoner to be insane during the time he was under my observation—at the time he committed these acts his judgment was warped by his despondency—with such a trial as this over the prisoner's head I should not expect him to improve much, but no one suggests that he is a raving lunatic—I do not think any human being could swear that the prisoner was responsible for his actions at the time he committed these acts, but I have stated my opinion after I have heard the facts.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
The prisoner: "I did not realise what I had done until I got to the police station."
Old Court, September 14th, 1905.
MR. MUIR and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON and MR. CURTIS BENNETT Defended.
ANNIE ROWLAND . I am the wife of Hezekia Rowland, of 10, Adelaide Road, Tranmere, near Liverpool—the deceased was my sister—she was about forty-five years old and had been married to the prisoner for about twenty years—I stayed with them several times when they lived in Jersey, I should think about ten years ago—they were very happy—the prisoner was doing nothing—he had been left a little fortune; I think he lived upon the capital—I last saw the deceased two years ago at Tranmere—
she was a telegraphist in the post office—I heard of her death from the hospital and came to London—I obtained a bag which was lying at King's Cross cloak-room—I did not recognise it as my sister's, but I did its contents—in the bag I found a card with an address on it which I should think is in the prisoner's writing, "Miss Huke, Ferndale House, 43, Princes Road Great Yarmouth"—she lets apartments—I do not know if you can come up from Great Yarmouth to King's Cross—I do not know if the deceased had been at Great Yarmouth or not—I paid 8d. for the bag at the cloak-room—I took it out on the Tuesday or Wednesday—it had been there I think, since Thursday, August 24th.
Cross-examined. The prisoner always appeared to be an affectionate and loving husband—I remember the deceased talking about her undergoing an operation; it must be quite fifteen years ago; she always said the prisoner nursed her through it as well as any woman could have done.
HELENA FRANCES MORRIS . I am the wife of Frederick Morris, of 62, Ormeley Road, Balham—I have been in the habit of doing housework for the deceased at 45, Honeybrook Road—I knew she went for a holiday to Yarmouth—I knew she was expected back at the end of the week in which she was killed—I also did some housework for Mr. and Mrs. Mackintosh, who lived at No. 44—on Thursday, August 24th, I went to No. 44 at 10 o'clock—I had not been there on the Wednesday—on the Thursday I went first to No. 45; I had been there on the Wednesday—I could not get in, the house being closed—I waited, but could get no answer, and Mrs. Mackintosh called me across the road and I did some housework for her—she lives opposite—I wrote this note (Produced)—Mrs. Mackintosh gave me the paper and envelope; I put it into the box at No. 45—I wrote the note and envelope in pencil—the pencil writing on the envelope is now rubbed off—there was no stamp on it; it is now stamped and has gone through the post—it went to the address, 44, Honeybrook Road, which is in type on the back (Read): "Mrs. Morris called at 10 o'clock as promised, but will call at I and see if Mrs. Stephens is in. Mrs. Morris"—I wrote again from home in the evening—the letter was delivered for me by a boy about 5 o'clock—this is the letter—I got no answer to either of the communications—I did not find Mrs. Stephens at home—the latest that I called on the 24th was 1 o'clock—when I did the housework for Mrs. Stephens she and the prisoner always appeared to be very affectionate—I have been working for them for five months—I went there once a week, sometimes once a fortnight—as far as I know, the Mackintoshs and the Stephens were friendly; I have never seen them in each other's house or speaking to each other.
By the COURT. The first time I spoke to Mrs. Mackintosh was when I went over on that day and she asked me to do something for her while I was waiting—I never did any work for her before—the Stephens kept no servant—they had a flat of four furnished rooms—they had no children.
WILLIAM ROLAND OLIVER I am manager for Mr. Greener, gunmaker, in the Hay market—on August 24th, between 2 and 3 p.m., the prisoner came in—he was perfectly sober as far as I could tell; I noticed nothing peculiar about him—he said, "I want to purchase a revolver," or "Show me a
revolver"—I said, "There is a case of revolvers; what might you want one for; a large pattern or a small one?"—he said, "Oh, I suppose a small one"—I said, "The email ones are there," and I got some out and showed them to him—he rather equivocated about the price and said, "It is rather a high price"—I think I showed him a three guinea one, and then I showed him this small one (Produced), price £1 15s. 6d.—I asked him what pattern for abroad or for house protection, and he said, "House protection"—after he had selected it I said, "Will that do?"—he said, "Yes, that will do. I want some cartridges"—we keep a pistol's register, and before he selected one I asked him if he had his licence—he said, "I have not it by me"—I said, "It will be necessary for me to see it"—I asked him for his card and he gave me this one, "Mr. Cyril A. Desparde, E. I. and S. Laundry, Ltd., 36, Eastbourne Road, Acton, W."—he said, "I have not got the licence, but I can get one," or something to that effect—I said, "Yes, when I see it I can sell you the revolver"—he said, "Very well, I will get one"—I think he said, "I suppose I can get one at a post office," and I may have said, "Yes, sir," or something to that effect—he left the shop—that was before he said anything about the cartridges, I think—he came back in about an hour and produced this gun licence—we have to take a note of it in our register—the name on it is," Cyril A. Desparde," and it shows that it was purchased at 2.55 p.m. on August 24th—when the revolver was selected he said, "I shall want some cartridges"—I am not sure whether it was on his first or second visit or on both that he spoke about the cartridges—I said, "Do you want bulleted cartridges, sir, or blanks?"—he said, "Bulleted cartridges"—I sold him a box of 50 exactly like this one—it looks as if five had been used from this box—I gave the prisoner a receipt for £1 18s.—the revolver is operated entirely by pulling a trigger and releasing it—it is what we call a double action revolver.
Cross-examined. When he left the shop a second time I made the remark to the proprietor that I thought it a little strange by the way he held my arm to wish me good-bye—unless I know a customer he does not shake hands with me as a rule—when Tasked him whether he wanted ball cartridges he said, "I am absolutely certain I want bulleted cartridges."
ARTHUR JOHN SPENCER . I live at 42, Honeybrook Road, Clapham Park, which is almost directly opposite No. 40—I know the prisoner and his wife by sight only—I have been there about two years—I have seen them coming in and out-together—as far as I could see they appeared to be on good terms—on August 24tb, at 10.15 p.m., I was indoors bolting the front door when I heard a noise which seemed like something striking my door—I immediately opened the door and saw the prisoner, whom I recognised, firing at a woman—I did not know that she was his wife—she saw me at once and ran towards me and I assisted her into my house and shut the door—she was very excited, but not seriously hurt—she made some remarks, but they were all like, "Help me"—I assisted her upstairs, sat her down in the chair and give her a little brandy and then I rushed down for the police when I found they were already at the gate—they came in and took charge of the case at once—next morning I found a
bullet on my kitchen floor where the deceased had been sitting—it was in a pool of blood—it was a bullet very like this (Produced)—I do not think the prisoner moved many steps away from the place where he fired the shots—he was on the pavement right opposite his own house and not more than 10 feet from the deceased—the houses have small gardens in front of them—he was in front of the little garden—I heard a report before I opened the door and I saw two flashes.
JOHN BAVOILLOT (263 W.) On August 24th, about 10.15 p.m., I was on duty in Honeybrook Road when I heard five pistol shots and saw some flashes—I ran towards the spot and saw the prisoner standing still in the centre of the roadway, about 50 yards from No. 42—I went up to him—he said, "Yes, here I am. I done it; I will give myself up"—I asked him where the revolver was—he said, "Over there." pointing to a wall—I told him I should take him into custody, and I took him towards the station—on the way we passed Mrs. Mackintosh's house, No. 44, and the prisoner said, "Mrs. Mackintosh, you are my murderer"—he spoke in rather a loud tone—that is the only observation he made on the way to the station—he was charged, and made no reply.
FREDERICK SMART (855 W.) On August 24th, about 10.15 p.m., I heard some shots in Honeybrook Road—I went there and saw the last witness with the prisoner in his custody—in his hearing the constable said that there was a revolver on the other side of the wall belonging to a Mr. Knight, a builder—I got over the wall and found this revolver; it has five chambers, and there were five discharged cartridges in them—they correspond with the cartridges in this box.
A. J. SPENCER (Re-examined). The woman had a little rush basket and a cloak over her arm and a sunshade, as if she might have been travelling.
HENRY WORLOCK (511 W.) On August 24th, about 10.15 p.m., I went to 42, Honeybrook Road, and found the deceased in Mr. Spencer's kitchen—shortly after I got there Dr. Edwards came, and by his direction I took her to St. Thomas's Hospital—she only complained of her heart—I took with me the blouse and skirt which the doctor had removed—I afterwards gave them to my inspector.
HENRY HERBERT JOHNSON EDWARDS . I am a medical practitioner, of 1, Poynders Road, Clapham—on August 24th I was called to see the deceased at 42, Honeybrook Road—she was sitting in an armchair in the kitchen—she complained of great pain in her left side—I examined her and found four bullet wounds; one in the middle line of the body just below the throat, on the level of the upper border of the chest bone, another an inch and a half above the bend of the left elbow, and another on the left elbow, and the fourth on the top of the right buttock—I was unable to find any bullet in the chest wound by probing—it appeared that the two wounds on the left arm had been caused by the entrance and exit of the same bullet—the wound behind was rather a scrape than a serious wound—bullets the same as this might have caused the wounds—round the wound in the chest and also near the wound on the arm I found marks of burning, and from those appearances I should think the pistol was discharged
from about 4 to 6 feet away, but I cannot say with any degree of certainty—I recommended her removal to the hospital.
BERNARD HYAM , M.R.C.S. I am casualty officer at St. Thomas's Hospital—I saw the deceased on her admission about 11.15 on August 24th—I have heard the description of the wounds given by Dr. Edwards, which is correct—I probed the wound in the chest, but was unable to find any bullet—I did not at first consider her injuries to be serious, but a little later there was a swelling on the side of the face and a pain in swallowing, and next day she spat a small quantity of blood—she got weaker, and was in a state of collapse, and on the 25th, about 3.30 p.m., I communicated with the police—her condition was serious at that time—it could not be said definitely whether she would recover, but her condition was obviously a serious one unless she made a turn for the better—I last saw her alive about 4.15 p.m. that day—the police arrived after that and she died about 1 o'clock next morning—a few days later I made a post-mortem examination, and found that she was a healthy woman generally—I traced the course of the wound in the chest, and found that it had passed through the gullet, struck the left side of the spine, grazed the top of the left lung, injuring it sufficiently to create difficulties in breathing, and just behind the lung I found this ballet (Produced)—the cause of death was directly traceable to that wound, and was the immediate cause—the wounds on the left arm were the entrance and exit of one bullet—from the position and the direction that wound took I think her arm was held up to protect herself, and I think the shot was from behind; there was scorching at the back—the other wound must have been from the front—when I had last seen her she was quite conscious.
TOM ANDREWS (Detective-Sergeant). On August 24th I was at the Balham police station when the prisoner was brought there in custody—after he had been charged he said, "I want a letter produced by Mrs. Mackintosh, 44, Honeybrook Road, because I want to see the contents. It was addressed to Mrs. Stephens, 45, Honeybrook Road, delivered by hand. I do not know the contents of that letter, but I want it produced in evidence at my trial. The letter I put two half-penny stamps on and posted it. It had a printed address on the back. I rubbed out the address in front"—next morning Mackintosh came to the station and I received from him this letter and envelope—it was sealed down, and had originally been addressed in pencil to Mrs. Stephens—on the 25th I went to St. Thomas's Hospital in consequence of a police telegram—I saw the house surgeon and the deceased, and took a statement in writing from her—she was in a very collapsed condition and scarcely able to speak.
[MR. MUIR said that he did not think he could put the statement in evidence, as the statement, "Do you make the statement with the fear of death before your eyes?" was stated not to be sufficient to make it admissible. Reg. v. Gloucester].
Cross-examined. There were two letters written by Mrs. Morris—no letter was written by Mrs. Mackintosh.
"This man has shot a woman in Honeybrook Road with a revolver"—I said, "Where is the revolver?" and the prisoner took a box of cartridges from his coat pocket behind, handed it to me and said, "I am very sorry," and then after a pause, "I threw the revolver away"—I went to Honeybrook Road, made some enquiries, and then returned and charged the prisoner with attempting to murder his wife by shooting her with a revolver—he made no reply—he gave his name as Walter Stephens, known also as Cyril A. Desparde, of 45, Honeybrook Road—he sad he was a commission agent—I received this revolver from another constable and took from it five discharged cartridges—in this box there are forty-five undischarged, which make up the fifty which the box contained—I searched the prisoner and found upon him a gun licence, a receipt for the revolver, this pawn ticket marked D, dated August 24th, 1905, showing that Mr. W. Stephens pawned a chain on that day for £1 with Mr. Bravington, of 27, Wardour Street—I found a quartern bottle nearly full of brandy, (Produced) and also this letter and envelope—it was then sealed down—the prisoner opened and read it (Read): "62 Ormeley Road, Balham Dear Madam,—I came up this morning at 10, then again at 1 o'clock, but you were not in. Will you kindly let me know if I am to come to-morrow, Friday, and what time, and oblige, Yours respectfully, H. Morris"—the envelope is addressed, "Mrs. Stephens, 45, Honeybrook Road, Cavendish Road"—the prisoner appeared rather vacant, as if he had been drinking for several days, but I did not consider him drunk then—he stood erect in the charge room and answered every question I put to him as regards his name—he could walk perfectly—he smelt of drink, and from his appearance I thought it was desirable to send for the divisional surgeon and Dr. Needham came—from another constable I received some clothes belonging to the deceased; they have bullet holes in them corresponding to the wounds.
Cross-examined. The prisoner walked to the station—I thought he appeared very vacant in his manner—I have not made enquiries about his past; Inspector Allen has—I have heard that he was twice locked up in Jersey on account of his mind eight or ten years ago—he was detained as a lunatic, but I cannot say for how long, and also since at Peckham.
Re-examined. I got my information from the police report. [This stated that the prisoner and his wife had lived in Jersey in 1894 and 1895; that he was of intemperate habits; that his wife left him, and th-e police were informed that hit house was on fire; that the prisoner was found to have set it on fire and he was removed in a state of delirium tremens and was confined in a lunatic asylum from November 28th until December 2nd. 1895].
JOSEPH NEEDHAM . I am police surgeon of the W Division of the Metropolitan police, and in consequence of instructions from the Balham police station I went there at 11.30 p.m. on August 24th—on entering the receiving room I saw the prisoner standing at the desk with a number of officers, and not knowing for what purpose I was called I stood aside to watch the proceedings—I recognised the prisoner as a stranger and observed he was answering questions quietly without excitement, very deliberately, rather vascilliating, and not knowing quite what he wanted, and asking
the inspector to take certain evidence and statements and then wishing them to be erased—finally the inspector, having completed his work, asked me to see the prisoner—I began to put questions to him, but he objected to answer me because of the publicity of the position—I thereupon took him into the corridor of the cells and spent a considerable time talking to him and examining him—I found him suffering from chronic alcoholism, but it that moment he certainly was not drunk in the ordinary accepted term—he showed the usual signs of deep drinking—he was very deaf with one ear and partially so with the other—he answered all my questions slowly and rationally, with the exception of those relating to a letter which he alleged he had received that day addressed to his wife—to this letter he attached great importance, at the same time admitting that he did not know its contents—he mentioned Mrs. Mackintosh's name, but made no statement concerning her beyond saying that the letter had emanated from her residence and he said the letter would explain its contents—I then left him and made my report in the book—I enquired into his sleeping habits because I suspected mental trouble, he said he had slept during the last few nights and told me he had been drinking during the day and had spent some hours riding about on tramcars—he volunteered the statement that he had had a disappointment that morning in business which had not gone well—he became very communicative and told me a great deal of his past life—we did not refer to the charge against him except that he said the letter would explain all this trouble.
Cross-examined. That was the letter which came from No. 44—I came to the conclusion that his mind was unhealthy, and I immediately expressed the opinion that I thought it was a mind which should be enquired into—I put it into my note in the Occurrence Book, so that the Magistrate should see it—I was simply judging from his conversations and the answers to my questions—I had been informed that the woman was wounded—apparently he had no motive—he told me that they had lived on affectionate terms for twenty-three years—he volunteered that statement.
Evidence for the Defence.
THEODORE ADOLPHUS . I am the medical superintendent of the Constance Road Infirmary, Dulwich, in Camberwell Parish—I remember the prisoner being admitted to the lunacy ward there on August 15th, 1898—he was first placed in the padded room on the night of the 20th at 10.30 p.m. and remained there until 7 a.m. next morning—the next night he also was in the padded room from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., and he remained there the whole of the next day and the next night—on the morning of the 23rd he was taken out at 9 a.m.—he was under my care from the 15th to the 29th, when he was discharged—he was sent there by two Magistrates and they considered that he was not mad enough to be sent to an asylum—I recommended that he should be sent to a lunatic asylum and I marked the register, which I have here, when he left that he was not fit to take his discharge.
Cross-examined. Under the lunacy laws we can only keep a person for fourteen days and then only by the order of a Magistrate and the Magistrate can only detain him if he sends him to an asylum—if I could have
done so I would have kept him—he had attacks of mania which had every appearance of acute delirium tremens and he was extremely violent—the acute stages of delirium tremens pass away very suddenly and the patient becomes perfectly rational, but the finer faculties are permanently impaired—in such a case a man to all intents and purposes is sane after the acute stage has passed away, and I should think that that stage of sanity would have been reached in the prisoner's case if he had been kept in our custody about another month; I think a month in an asylum would have done him a great deal of good—I was rather doubtful about letting him go out—I do not think that he should be kept for ever in an asylum.
Re-examined. Extensive drinking would bring on attacks of delirium tremens which would be likely to permanently injure the brain—in medical opinion a great deal of the insanity at present in the lunatic asylums is due to drinking.
By the COURT. I have known nothing of the prisoner since.
JAMES SCOTT . I am the head medical authority at Brixton prison—the prisoner has been under my care since August 25th—I have not found direct evidence of his suffering from delusions, but he was evidently suffering from the effects of prolonged drinking—since he has been under my care the physical signs have passed off to a large extent—he told me that he had been sent to observation wards three times—long intemperate habits would weaken a man's mind—he would not discuss the letter with me—I cautioned him, as I always do, that I did not want him to give me anything in confidence, as I might be obliged to use it in the witness box—I asked him about the letter, and the purchase of the revolver, and the disappointment in business, and he said he would rather not discuss those with me—he said in a vague way it was all due to drink—I have heard Dr. Needham's evidence and without coming to the conclusion that the prisoner had mental delusions it is difficult to explain his conduct, and nothing I have heard in the evidence has shown any ordinary motive for his act—I said in my report, "It is impossible to deny that the prisoner may have had mental delusions"—that would be due to drinking—the letter which Dr. Needham mentioned struck me as a delusion of suspicion, which is very common in alcoholics.
Cross-examined. If the prisoner believed in what he said about this letter I should consider it a delusion—delusion of suspicion is a common term used with regard to mental diseases and a very common form with people who have such delusions—they suspect others of conspiring against them to hurt them in some way—in the case of husband and wife the delusion frequently is that of infidelity or trying to poison—that is not an uncommon delusion in alcoholic insanity—I think that on August 24th the prisoner was under the influence of delusions, the result of prolonged drinking.
By the COURT. If you thought a man robbed you of a £5 note and you killed him because you thought he had robbed you, I should not call you insane; but as regards these facts there seems no foundation on which one can base an opinion; I have listened carefully to the evidence and
I have detected nothing which could give rise to these delusions—my idea of a delusion is a false idea—a sane person may have a false and baseless suspicion, but his reason will control his conduct.
By MR. MUIR. Many a person has a false idea that another person has done him some injury, but I should not necessarily call that person insane, but with the insane their ideas take a much stronger hold and frequently guide their actions—in judging of insanity you must make up your mind first of all whether the patient's belief is false and baseless, and if you find there is such a false and baseless belief on the part of the patient, it gives rise to the idea in your mind that he is insane; it is one of the leading and chief symptoms of insanity—I have not detected any insanity in the prisoner while he has been under my observation—as to this hallucination, he declined to discuss it with me altogether, and I had no opportunity of arriving at an independent opinion upon that, and I had no right to force him, as I might be trying to force a confession of guilt—on August 24th from the mental condition he was in I do not think he knew the difference between right and wrong—I think he knew the nature but not the quality of his act—chronic long drinking blunts the moral sense to a very great extent.
The Jury, being unable to agree, were discharged without giving a verdict, and the trial was postponed to next Sessions. The COURT considered that more might have been found out about the prisoner, and that Mrs. Mackintosh might haw been called to say what the knew about the deceased.
Before Mr. Justice Bucknill.
New Court, September 13th, 1905.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Seven years' penal servitude.
MR. HUTTON and MR. JENKINS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
712. EMILY COTTRELL was then indicted for unlawfully neglecting Lilian Rose Lorenz, under the age of sixteen years, in a manner likely to cause her unnecessary suffering and injury to her health. Other counts contained similar charges relating to a child named Claud McLay, aged ten months.
MR. HUTTON and MR. JENKINS Prosecuted.
ALICE MCLAY . I live at 9, Leveret Street—I had a child named Claud, born about twelve months ago—I saw an advertisement in a paper which said, "Wanted the care of a child, or would adopt, by respectable widow. Mrs. E. C, 137, Battersea Park Road"—I went to see the prisoner and
arranged with her to take my child at 7s. a week—it was rather a delicate baby—I went to see it regularly about once a week—I always sent her the money—I noticed the baby particularly about the middle of July last—it appeared to be in good health then—I told her I was going to take it away and about three weeks after that I did so—it was then in a dying state—I took it to a doctor and then to a hospital—I then took it back to the prisoner—on July 31st I saw a Mrs. Wright and we went together with the baby to a Mrs. Bailey, where the child has been ever since—it was a good deal better, having gained 6 lbs. in weight—when I removed the child I did not notice any vermin on it, but I think it had nits in its head and had sores which have all now disappeared—it is now quite healthy.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I took the child away as soon as possible—I wrote you two letters saying I was satisfied with the child's treatment—that was to keep peace—I took the child to Dr. Harding, who ordered it to have beef juice and Mellin's Food—I think it is not a fact that the baby continued to have food that was too strong for him.
Re-examined. It was after I wrote my letter, and when I saw the child next that I noticed the change in its appearance—it was then in a dying state.
THOMAS EDWARD BOOTH MEYLER . I am a medical practitioner at 65, Battersea Park Road—in June last Claud McLay was brought to me three or four times by Mrs. Wright—he was suffering from rickets and diarrhoea—that was brought about by improper feeding—he had no organic disease that I know of—I prescribed for him.
Cross-examined. I never heard that the mother was dissatisfied with my treatment and took it to Dr. Harding.
By the COURT. Babies very rapidly decrease in weight when they have diarrhoea, or when suffering from indigestion—it is rather hard sometimes to know the sort of food that will be acceptable to the disordered condition of a child's stomach—it improved rapidly when I ordered it white of egg.
FELIX CHARLES KEMPSTER . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police, practising at Battersea—on August 4th I went to 3, Caledonian Place, Homerton, to Mrs. Bailey's house, and there examined Claud McLay—he weighed 8 lbs. clothed, at the age of eleven months, when he should weigh 17 lbs. 8 ozs. naked—I found traces of a verminous condition of the head; the eyes were sunken, the features were pinched, the complexion sallow, and he had symptoms of rickets; he had a large sore over his spine and buttocks and his buttocks showed signs of recent rawness—I again examined him seven days afterwards, when he had increased 2 lbs. in weight, and he was then in a much better condition than when I first saw him—he had suffered either from insufficient or improper feeding and also from general neglect
Cross-examined. I am not aware that I was the fifth doctor that attended the child, but I have heard several names mentioned since.
LILIAN LORENZ . In April this year I found myself about to be confined—I saw an advertisement in the West London Press—in consequence I wrote asking the prisoner to call upon me—she agreed to take the child for £20 10s. to be paid in instalments—I was confined on June 4th of a female child—the same evening the prisoner came and took the child away—I
then paid her £5—I had paid her 10s. previously—in July I went to see her and the child, which looked very nice—on July 13th I called again and gave her £4 10s.—I met her in July, when she told me the child was very ill, and she had had to send it to the hospital—I never saw the child again, till it was dead.
Cross-examined. I told you I did not want my friends to know I had had a child—I wanted it kept secret.
SUSANNAH DOREY . I live at 45, Burnaby Street, Chelsea, and am a certified midwife—on June 4th I attended the last witness in her confinement—I delivered her of a baby—it was a healthy child and there was nothing: whatever wrong with it.
Cross-examined. I attended the child properly.
ROBERT WHITTING . I was house physician at St. Thomas's Hospital on July 21st when a child called Lilian Beatrice Echler was brought in—it was then extremely emaciated; the skin on the limbs was hanging in folds, the face was sunken and it was extremely feeble—the child died about July 29th—there was no evidence of organic disease.
Cross-examined. I do not remember ever speaking to you about the child's condition.
ELLEN WRIGHT . I lived at the prisoner's house—I was aware that the babies were there—they were never taken out of the house except by me—the child Echler was a very fine one—it gradually wasted away—on July 21st I saw it and thought it was dying—I asked the prisoner to let me take it in the park, but she said she did not wish it to be seen, so I took it in the yard of the house—I took it to the hospital.
Cross-examined. I told you I thought it would not live.
CHARLES ROSS . I am an inspector of the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children—on August 3rd, about 8.30 p.m., I went to 137, Battersea Park Road, and there told the prisoner that the child Echler had died in St. Thomas's Hospital, and wanted to know if she had any other nurse children—she said, "I have no other nurse children and I don't intend to have any more, as I am not registered now. I had the child Echler from Mrs. Brown on June 8th when it was four days old and she gave an address at Norton Folgate, City, and she agreed to pay 7s. per week, but I only received three payments altogether. The child was very delicate then, and had a discharge from the eyes and ears and its lower parts were sore. I did not take it to a doctor. I fed it on barley water and Nestles milk. On July 21st the child was taken with convulsions and I gave it to Mrs. Wright, who took it to St. Thomas's Hospital, where it died on the 29th. I saw the mother once, but I don't know where she lives"—the next day I saw her again and said to her, "I have received information that you have had another nurse child, aged eleven months, and I want to know where it is, as it is alleged that it has been neglected"—she said, "It is untrue. I have not had another child since I have had, he child Echler"—a few minutes afterwards she came to me and said.
I have had another nurse child called McLay, aged eleven months. I had it from the mother when it was three weeks old, but she took it away a fortnight ago. The child has been ill and it has been under Dr. Meyler"—the same day I went to 3, Caledonian Place, Homerton, where I saw the child McLay—it was extremely thin and emaciated and the buttocks were red and sore, and there were several sores on the back, all form neglect; the child's head was also sore and very verminous—on the 6th I told the prisoner that I had seen the child McLay and described its condition—she said, "It must have got like that since it left me. I did not neglect it"—I saw the children's bedroom; it was in a very filthy condition, and also the bedding—the walls were covered with fly papers with hundreds of dead flies on them and the air was very foul.
Cross-examined. I did not tell you I had heard about the child; I told you I saw it.
The prisoner, in her defence, stated that she had done nothing of the kind alleged, and that she attended the child McLay night and day.
GUILTY . Three month' imprisonment in the Second Division.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Fourth Court, September 13th and 14th, 1905.
713. GEORGE ARTHUR BROWN (34) PLEADED GUILTY to, having been entrusted with £2 14s. 7d. by Arthur Piggott, £1 4s. 6d. by Joseph Hodgson, and 11s. 6d. by Stanley Ewles, in each case fraudulently converted the said moneys to his own use and benefit. He received a good character. Discharged on his own recognisances in £20 to come up for judgment on October 16th.—And
(714.) FERDINAND HENDERSON (30) to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Edward Rapson, and stealing therein a syphon of soda water and other articles, his goods. One previous conviction was proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. NICHOLSON Prosecuted; MR. WICKHAM Defended.
FREDERICK JAMES THOMAS . I am a bookmaker and employed the prisoner, who had to pay each man according to the list I gave him, I giving him the total amount—on July 29th I prepared a list of the people to whom I owed money, which I gave to Budden, a messenger of mine, to give to the prisoner, with £9 13s. 10d.—on the list there was a name of William Liddey, whose name appears as "W. L." for 17s. 6d., and also Chester Potts for 2s.—those gentlemen came to me afterwards for their money and I had to pay them again—the next I heard at the prisoner was on the Tuesday morning, when I learnt that no one had been paid—I sent to his house to see if he was ill, and his wife said she had not seen him since the Sunday morning—on the following morning I got this letter from him (Ex. A., read): "Just a few lines to you to tell you about my not being on my pitch. I am very sorry for what has occurred. The
starting of my trouble was a bet got in the corner of my pocket in the name of 'Tiny' and I never found it until the next morning. It came to £15 odd. I did not come to you about it because it looked very fishy, so I tried to pay the man out. In doing so I got worse into it. I had to keep bets to pay him. It became worse still the Saturday I ought to have paid it. I went home after I had done taking money. My wife had a few words with me, so I went out and had some beer, which got over me. I got my money off Tiny and went up the road again, after which I remember nothing more again until I woke up on Sunday morning. I then counted my money and found I was £4 16s. short, which you sent on my bet. I could not remember a little bit of where it went to, so what with being in a mess and being short of a day's paying-out money I did not know what to do. I tried to borrow it, but could not. I did not want to run away with the money. If I wanted to do that I could have done it when I ran back. I have had as much as £60 in silver. It was because I had no money to pay out with, so I hope you will forgive me. I hope to live long enough to pay you back. I am not drinking no beer now, and am working all kinds of different stuff to try and get it"—I cannot say for certain whether this letter is in his handwriting—I paid him 35s. a week—I have only employed him on this work for six weeks; previous to that he was employed by me as a messenger.
Cross-examined. I first met the prisoner nine years ago—he was an errand boy to me first; he did not collect betting slips then, nor distribute cards in the streets, nor keep a look out for policemen—I complain of the whole £9 13s. 10d. being taken, but my solicitor said the two items, 17s. 6d. and 2s., would be sufficient—he has borne a very good character with me—I did not give him any money for drink during the day—he has been fined for causing obstruction by betting, which fine he took out of the money I hid given him.
ERNEST BUDDEN . I am a clerk in the employ of Mr. Thomas—on July 29th he handed me £9 13s. 10d. and a list, which I did not read, to give to the prisoner—not seeing the prisoner, I gave it to my brother to give to him.
THOMAS BUDDEN , I an a brother of Ernest Budden—on July 29th he came and gave me certain instructions given him by Mr. Thomas and a list And some money in a bag to give to the prisoner—I handed it to him.
WILLIAM LIDDEY . I am a tobacconist in Battersea and I sometimes make bets—I made a bet with Mr. Thomas through his agent, the prisoner—I won, and 17s. 6d. was due to me—that was not paid to me by the prisoner, and I complained to Mr. Thomas.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has paid as much as £12 on one occasion for bets I have won.
CHESTER POTTS . I live in Palmerston Road, Battersea, and sometimes have a bet—on July 29th I made a bet with the prisoner, who was the agent of Mr. Thomas—I laid out 3s. and I had 10s. 6d. to come back, consisting of two amounts, 8s. 6d. and 2s.—I was paid nothing by the prisoner, but on the following Wednesday Mr. Thomas paid me himself.
Cross-examined. I made the bet at the top of Palmerston Street and I was to meet him at the same place at night to get the bet paid—I might easily have missed him.
HARRY PURKIS (Detective-Sergeant V.) The prisoner, for whom I had a warrant, came and gave himself up at the Lavender Hill police station at 9.45 on August 15th—I read the warrant to him—he replied, "Stealing? That is all I want to know. I did not know till yesterday that there was a warrant out for me"—when the charge was read to him he said, "That is a funny warrant."
Cross-examined. As far as I can ascertain, he has been a very honest man—he has been in the Army eighteen months, and has always borne a good character up to this time.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that a man named Henry Witham, nicknamed "Tiny," had won a bet made with him entitling him (Witham) to £15 odd, but that he (the prisoner) had left the betting slip in his pocket, and therefore Mr. Thomas would not have recognised it, so he was paying it off himself; that he had received the £9 13s. 10d. and had paid out about £4 3s. of it when he went and had drinks with the men he had paid; that on the following morning on counting his money he found he was £4 16s. 6d. short, by which he concluded he had been robbed.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRY WITHAM . I have known the prisoner on and off for some time and have always found him straightforward—on June 30th I had a 10s. bet with him on a double stake which came off, and I had £15 odd to come to me. I sent for the money the next day and the prisoner told me that he had mislaid the paper and could not pay me as he had not handed it in to his master, and he agreed to pay me £1 a week rather than go and tell his employer—he has paid me £8—he paid me 30s. on the first day.
NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
MR. NICHOLSON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HINDE Prosecuted; MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
The Jury, being unable to agree were discharged, and the trial postponed until next Sessions.
Before Lumley Smith, Esq., K.C.
Fifth Court, September 13th and 14th, 1905.
718. GEORGE VICTOR MARCH (21) , PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling house of Samuel James Linton and stealing therein acamera and other articles and 2s. 9d.; also to burglary in the dwelling house of John Gain and stealing therein seven pairs of socks and other articles; also to a burglary in the dwelling house of George Doughty Egerton and stealing therein a pin box and other articles and 3s., having been convicted of felony in March, 1901. Five other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. —And
MR. FORDHAM Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended Cohen.
THOMAS HALES . I live at 3, Tanser Road, Hampstead, and am manager to Bennett Son & Company, Ltd., tripe dressers, of Lambeth Walk—on July 28th they had a brown horse in their stables; the head ostler saw it there; I saw it one day that week—on Saturday morning, July 29th, I was telephoned for and missed from the stables a coat, a horse and cart and five sets of harness—the horse was a dark bay, standing about sixteen hands high, which had originally cost the firm thirty guineas—we reckoned it worth quite £20; we had to give thirty-seven guineas to replace it—I saw it about a month afterwards in the possession of the police.
Cross-examined. I have not had much experience in selling horses—we had had this one for about four years; it was about twelve years old—there was a very slight sore just under the saddle—when I saw it again there were two or three slight marks on the legs—I saw no mark of other sores—it had not been fired on the right hind leg, I swear—I have looked at it since—I do not think July and August is rather a cheap time for horses—I have bought a good many horses; I cannot say exactly the month when I have bought them, but I have always found that if we wanted to buy a horse for working we had to pay a good price for it.
Re-examined. I have never known a time when horses for working purposes were so cheap as £4—there was no damage of any consequence to the horse—our stables are in Lambeth Walk.
WILLIAM BALDOCK . I am a coal merchant, of 54, Spray Street, Plumstead—Cohen keeps a clothes shop not far off—four or five weeks ago I lent him a trolley—he brought a horse which has since been shown to be Bennett's and put it in the trolley—he said it was too big for him and asked me whether I would buy it—he said nothing about how he had obtained it—he asked £25 for it, and I in a joke said I would give £5—he would not accept that.
Cross-examined. I saw him several times about the horse and talked about it; I never got any further, only saying I would offer £5; I was always joking, because I knew he would not take that price, or thought he would not—I kept offering £5—he said the reason he wanted to sell it was because his shafts were too small for it—on one occasion I brought him a horse from my stable and offered to chop it with his; mine was a
decent horse; it had done me very good service—I did not say I would chap it and give him £5 as well; we never came to terms—I had had mine about six months, and it was in very good condition for that sort of horse, which does not carry much flesh—I gave £10 for it—I did not offer to give him any money as well as chop it; I offered my horse for his horse, or £5 for his horse.
Re-examined. I never bought a good working horse for £4.
GEORGE COLEMAN . I live at 16, Church Street, Woolwich—on August 18th I was driving when Cohen, who was walking, pulled me up in Plumstead and said he had a good horse for sale, a better one than he had sold me previously—I asked him the price—he said £18—he said he had bought it in London under the hammer for £25, and it was too big for his shafts—I said trade was very bad and money tight; I could not buy it, but I knew a firm who might buy it—the lowest he came to in bargaining was £17—I bought another horse of him for £10.
ARTHUR WOOLARD (Detective L.) On August 29th I went to Cohen's stables at Charles Street, Plumstead, and there found Messrs. Bennett's brown horse—next day, about 2.15, I saw Cohen at Woolwich police station—I told him I was a police officer, that I had traced a stolen horse to his possession and had taken possession of it—he said, "Well, sir, I will tell you all about it. I bought the horse about a month ago from a short man in Beresford Street, but I don't know who he was; he is a stranger to me. I gave him £4 for the horse, and he gave me a receipt, which I gave to my solicitor this morning. Mr. Morris at a public-house in High street sent the man to me, and my boy Sam went back with the man, and Mr. Morris said he knew him well, and the horse was straight, or I should not have bought him. Mr. Morris gave him ink and paper to write out the receipt"—after that statement I went to Morris and made enquiries there, and on my return I said to the prisoner that from the result of my enquiries I should take him into custody for feloniously receiving a horse—he made no reply—when charged at the Kensington Road police station, he said, "£20, and it had sores on it!"—it was said it was worth £20—I said to the prisoner, "Mr. Morris denies sending a man with a horse for you to buy; he says, 'Cohen's son, and a man came to my house; the man said Mr. Cohen had sent his eon to see if you know me. I replied, 'Yes, by seeing you come into the house three or four times; they asked me or paper and ink and a stamp; the man wrote out what appeared to be a receipt'"—he made no reply to that.
Cross-examined. Mr. Morris was not called as a witness for the prosecution before the Magistrates, but I believe he is here for Cohen; he is not here for the prosecution to my knowledge; we have not subpoenaed him—I did not see that according to my own version Cohen never said he sent a man with a horse to him—I asked Morris if he had sent any man with a horse to Cohen for him to buy—I had not observed that Cohen had not said that at all; he said Mr. Morris at a public-house in High Street sent a man to him—the other statement he made was after I asked him whether he had sent a man with a horse to Cohen; he volunteered that statement—I found the prisoner detained at the police station,
there he had come voluntarily to make enquiries about his horse after he had consulted his solicitor in the morning; we had tried to find him for a day and a half—I served a notice in writing on the prisoner that additional evidence would be called under the Prevention of Crimes Act; that was more than seven days ago—this is a copy of it.
[MR. FORDHAM proposed to give evidence under the provisions of Section 19 of the Prevention of Crimes Act. MR. BURNIE objected that the evidence of conviction did not satisfy those provisions. The learned judge ruled that he would allow the evidence to be given, but that if necessary he would state a case for the consideration of the Court of Crown Cases Reserved].
JAMES HALCE (Detective-Sergeant, Woolwich Dock Yard). I produce a conviction under the Army Act of 1881 and a second one under the Public Stores Act of 1875—I was present at Woolwich Police Court on November 11th, 1903, when Cohen was fined £2 or twenty-one days hard labour by R . Kettle, Esq., Magistrate, for unlawful possession of Government stores, a wooden ink box with three glass bottles with brass tops, value about 5s.; he had it at his shop—I was present at Woolwich Police Court on September 24th, 1901, when he was charged with the unlawful possession of Governmentstores and fined £3 or twenty-one days hard labour by E. Baggallay, Esq.; there were fifteen pairs of military boots, twelve shirts, four pairs of socks, and one pair of serge trousers in his shop, all military stores—military clothing we always charge under the Military Act, and when we are not certain it is military clothing we charge it under the Public Stores Act—Cohen lives at Woolwich.
Cohen, in his defence on oath, stated that he was a general dealer, and called himself a carman and contractor; that he had had his shop and lived there for fourteen years; that his son first spoke to him about buying this horse about the last Saturday in July, between 12 and 1, and then Bishop came with the horse in a van, and wanted to sell the horse because he had no work for it; that in answer to questions Bishop said he had bought the horse at the Barbican for £10 ten months back; that he (Cohen) said if Bishop could name anybody round about who knew him he would buy the horse; that Bishop said Mr. Morris, the publican, knew him very well; that he (Cohen) arranged to pay £4 and sent his son Sam, aged eighteen, to make enquiries; that Sam on his return said that Morris said he could buy it all right, as he knew that chap; "that Sam gave him the receipt which had been made out with the paper, ink, and stamp which Morris had supplied, and which Moon (which was the name Bishop went by) had written; that he (Cohen) paid the money; that he found afterwards the horse was not the right size for his cart, and offered it to Baldock; that when he bought it there were three sores on each side down the neck and a sore like a half-crown under the saddle on the back-bone; that he dealt in horses and everything that turned up; that this was the first time he had seen Bishop; that he considered £4 was a proper price for a horse with pads and sores; and that he did not know the horse was stolen.
Evidence for Cohen.
outside the shop I was going to, and he came up and asked me, "Do you want to buy a horse?"—he said, "Does Mr. Cohen want to buy a horse?"—I said, "Yes, he wants to buy a horse"—my father wanted a horse at the time—he came with me to my father and asked him, and father said, "Yes, I want to buy a horse," and he brought it down and father had a look at it, and asked him how much he wanted for it—he said he wanted £6 for it, and he ran the horse up and down the street, and then father said "The horse is a bit stiff on the back legs"—he said, "There is nothing; sometimes it goes like that"—then father arranged how much he would give him for the horse, and said, "Do you know anybody about here who knows you?"—he said, "Yes, Mr. Morris," so father sent me round with him to Mr. Morris to ask him whether he knew him—I knew Bishop then as Moon—this receipt was made out, and I came back with it and told my father Mr. Morris said he could buy the horse; it was all right, he knew the man—then father bought the horse for £4.
Cross-examined. When I was outside a shop two or three doors from my father's the man came up and said, "Does Mr. Cohen want to buy a horse?"—I did not know the man before—he was standing two or three doors from where my father lived, and he saw me coming—I do not know whether Mr. Morris sent the man to father—no one said Morris had sent him—the horse was in a van when Bishop showed it to me; the horse was left in the market—I do not know what became of the van, but before father bought it he asked him how he was going to take the van home and he said he was going to borrow a horse off Morris—I do not remember telling Baldock not to give any information to the officer; father had a trolley off him—I saw Moon write out this receipt in Morris's public-house—the stamp came from there, and Moon paid for it, I think.
COHEN NOT GUILTY . (See next case.)
721. RALPH BISHOP also PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a mare, the property of the Alliance Dairy Company; also to stealing a gelding and a set of harness, the property of Frederick William Howard; also to stealing a mare, a set of harness and two sacks of forage, the property of John Dickeson, having been convicted of felony in January 1905 ( See next case).
MR. FORDHAM Prosecuted.
WALTER JOHN PHILLIPS . I am dairy manager to the Alliance Dairy Company—on July 26th we had a horse in a field in Ravendale Road—it was perfectly sound and fit for being worked—on the morning of July 27th it was gone—I next saw it later that day at Harrison & Barber's, the horse slaughterers—its off fore-leg was then injured in some way so that it was quite useless; it could not put its foot to the ground—I examined it a few hours afterwards and found a 1 1/2 or 2-inch French nail driven into the centre of the frog—I took out the nail at 12 o'clock at night, and it went into the drain among some manure—I made arrangements to have
the horse taken home in an ambulance, and two other nails were taken out—I am afraid we shall have to kill it.
FREDERICK TOMLIN . I am manager to Harrison Barber & Co., horse slaughterers, of Blackwall Lane, Greenwich—on the early morning of July 27th the prisoner brought a mare to our yard and said he wished to sell it to be destroyed, and asked what it was worth—it was dead lame and could not put its foot to the ground—he said it had been turned out and blistered, and it had been no good—he said the owner was Mr. White—I gave him 32s. 6d. for it—it was not slaughtered.
By the COURT. I knew Mr. White as a dealer living in the neighbourhood—the prisoner brought a pony about a week before for slaughtering—we did not know there were nails in this mare's foot till about 12 o'clock that night, I think—I was not present; my foreman discovered it—I gave no directions to my people to examine it and see if the lameness was produced in this kind of way—the mare looked as though it had been blistered for the lameness, which looked like old standing; it had the appearance of being turned out for this lameness, and that not getting over it, it had to be slaughtered—we only buy things that are really unfit for work—it was very difficult to find the nail; the man had to wash the foot and probe about before he could find the head of the nail.
WILLIAM LOVETT . I am a farrier, of 63, Ligham Street—on July 28th I was called to the Alliance Dairy Company's yard, where I examined a mare—it was very lame on its off fore foot—I took out two nails from inside the frog—I do not consider they were could have got in accidentally from the position I found them—the mare was sufering very much pain, the nail had got right into the sensitive part of the foot.
ROBERT ELLIOTT . I am a veterinary surgeon, of 195, Upper Richmond Road—on August 4th I examined a mare, the property of the Alliance Dairy Company—she was suffering from a punctured sole, such as might he caused by a nail being driven into the frog of the foot—the nails had been extracted before I saw them—it was a condition that could have arisen through accident—I have not seen two, but I have seen where one nail of this length had gone into the frog quite accidentally.
JOHN ROWBOTTOM (Detective E.) On August 21st I arrested the prisoner and told him the charges of stealing and maiming—he said, "Well, I am fairly caught now; I shall have to put up with it. I intend to have all the cases cleared up"—I found this French nail in his pocket—this other one is one of the nails actually drawn out from the foot by Lovell—they are of the same class of nail, but the one in the hoof is longer than the one found in his pocket.
W. LOVETT (Re-examined). I found this nail inside the frog.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he stole the mare and took it to Blackwall Lane and slept with it in an old boat-builder's shed, where there were old nails and bolts about on the floor, but that he never touched the mare's foot.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in January, 1905. It was stated that the prisoner was suspected of stealing five other horses in addition to those for which he was indicted. Nine months' hard labour on
the indictment for maiming, five years' penal servitude on each indictment for stealing, to run concurrently, but not to commence till the expiration of the sentence for maiming.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 16TH, 1905.