CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FOURTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 5TH, 1906.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORTHAND BY
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
(For many years with the late firm of Messrs. BARNETT & BUCKLER, Official Shorthand Writers to the Court.)
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the King's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, February 5th, 1906, and following days.
Before the Right Hon. WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir CHARLES JOHN DARLING , and the Hon. Sir HENRY SUTTON , two of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart.; Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Bart., G.C.I.E.; Sir JAMES THOMSON RITCHIE , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., K.C., Recorder of the said City; FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON , Esq., HOWARD CARLILE MORRIS, Esq., and FRANCIS STANHOPE HANSON , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET , Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; and His Honour Judge RENTOUL, K.C., Commissioner, His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
THOMAS VANSITTART BOWATER, Esq. J.P.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
MORGAN, MAYOR. FOURTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that the prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, February 5th, 1906.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ROWSELL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
198. ERNEST ALFRED JONES (30) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing ten concert tickets, the property of the Postmatter General. Nine months' hard labour. —
(199.) ROSE EMILY BYFORD. (29) to forging and uttering an authority for the payment of £7 4s. with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a receipt for £4 14s. One month hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(200.) RICHARD MURRAY (33) to burglary in the dwelling house of Henry St. John Wentworth and stealing a coffee pot and other goods, "his property; also to stealing a teapot, the property of Edward Giles, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on June 15th, 1896. Nine previous convictions, commencing in 1888, were proved against him. Four years' penal servitude.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(201.) GEORGE FRATER (30) to feloniously wounding Arthur Howard with intent to do him grievous bodily harm, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on August 15th, 1899. Twelve other convictions were proved against him, and he was stated to be an associate of thieves. Eighteen months' hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(202.) ALFRED ROBERTS (65) to unlawfully attempting to obtain from John Dickinson certain moneys by false pretences with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a certain paper writing with intent to defraud; also endeavouring, by virtue of a forged instrument, to obtain a letter of recommendation from John Dickinson, a Police Magistrate at the Thames Police Court. Four previous convictions were proved against him. Four months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(204.) DUNCAN MACKENZIE (62) to forging and uttering a receipt for £30 with intent to defraud; also to unlawfully obtaining from Joseph Henley and from Herbert Fisher £11 17s. 6d. by false pretences with intent to defraud; also to feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for £33 12s. with intent to defraud, having been convicted of felony at this Court on July 23rd, 1900, as Alexander Mackenzie. Several other convictions were proved against him. Twenty months' hard labour.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(205.) MORRIS STEIN (28) to a burglary in the dwelling house of George Clanson and stealing four medals and other goods; also to a burglary in the dwelling house of Stephen Turner Todd and stealing a coat and other goods; also to a burglary in the dwelling house of David Samuel Woolf and stealing a tray and other goods; also to being found by night in the possession of house-breaking implements without lawful excuse, having been convicted of felony at this Court on September 10th, 1901. Three other convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. DAVIS Prosecuted.
HENRY BEAOHY (Detective, City). On January 18th I was in Liverpool Street about 6 p.m., and saw the prisoners outside the Great Eastern Railway station gates—there were a great quantity of people there and the prisoners were mixing with them as they were walking along—I saw Smith follow a woman, Johnson being close behind, and Smith put his hands in front of him and fumble in the folds of the woman's dress—I was about half a yard away and Detective Burgess was a little way behind me; he could not see what I saw—the prisoners followed the woman about half a dosen yards—they went into the station and came back to the gates again, but I saw Smith go to another woman while Johnson was close behind him—Smith put his hands in the folds of the lady's dress—Johnson was then beside him—they left that woman and went across to New Broad Street, where the 'buses start—Smith went up to a woman who was waiting for a 'bus and put his left hand into the folds of her dress, Johnson standing beside—they left that woman and followed some others to Broad Street station, where I saw Smith go behind one of the women and put his hand into the folds of her dress, Johnson being close beside him—nothing was extracted to my knowledge—they left that woman and went back to the Great Eastern Railway station—they went inside, but did not take a ticket—Smith did the same thing there, Johnson being close beside him, and they then went to the 'bus-stand again—they went into the station three times while I was watching them—they did not appear to have any business there—I saw them do the same thing in New Broad Street—I was watching them for about twenty-five minutes—
I then left the observation to Burgess and I kept in the rear, watching Burgess, and from what he told me we arrested the prisoners—we charged them and Smith said, "You have made a mistake"—Johnson said nothing.
Cross-examined by Johnson. We used our discretion as to whether we should apprehend you after making so many attempts—we made an inquiry of a lady, but she had lost nothing.
Cross-examined by Smith. I saw you by the station gates, behind a lady, with both your hands in front of you, fumbling with her dress—I was just behind Johnson—I did not see you extract anything—after that you followed another lady and repeated the same attempt—I was about half a yard away and you were behind the lady—I did not say at the Police Court that you were at the side—I saw you repeat the same attempt—I was not very far away then—I left the observation to Burgess to twenty-five or thirty minutes and I was watching him.
JOSEPH BURGESS (Constable, City). On January 18th, about 6 p.m., I was with Beachy—I first saw the prisoners together at Liverpool Street railway station entrance—Beachy was with me—I saw nothing done while he had them under observation, but I took them under observation shortly after 6.30—before that I was following Beachy, but could not see the prisoners—when I took them under observation I saw Smith in Broad Street, following a lady across to the Great Eastern Railway entrance, and when in the thick of the crowd by the gates he lifted his overcoat with his right hand inside it—Johnson was on his left side and Smith's hand went into the folds of the lady's dress—I was within a yard of them—I went back after the prisoners into Broad Street—they brought another lady over and carried out a similar thing in the gateway, Smith putting his hands precisely as before and Johnson being on his right side—they left that lady and went into Liverpool Street station and I saw Smith get hold of his overcoat again as he had done previously, place his right hand in the folds of the lady's dress, Johnson standing on his right—they left that lady and came back into Liverpool Street, crossed into New Broad Street, where they followed another lady into Liverpool Street, and when outside the gate entrance in the thick of the crowd Smith again got hold of his overcoat behind the lady's dress, Johnson again coming up on the right side—Smith was covering the back of the lady's dress with his coat and Johnson was in such a position that if a purse had been taken it could readily have been passed to him, and that was the case on each occasion—they left that lady and went into New Broad Street and came back behind another lady, when Smith in New Broad Street held out his overcoat and in the thick of the crowd placed his hands in it and Johnson came up beside him—they left that lady, went back into New Broad Street, followed another lady and crossed into Liverpool Street, where they committed another offence in exactly the same way—I then followed them back into New Broad Street, where they followed another lady to the North London Railway—Smith held his overcoat in the same way as before and Johnson came up on his right—Johnson was not long
anything except standing on his right—I arrested them in company with Beachy after I had told them what I had seen taking place.
Cross-examined by Smith. I was about a yard from you when you attempted to pick the first lady's pocket and Johnson was touching me every time he came up to you—I could see your hands in the folds of the lady's dress.
Johnson, in his defence, said that he was in Liverpool Street on this night, but that the evidence of the officers was entirely false; that it was not reasonable that two detectives would watch two men for three-quarters of an how and see them make twelve or thirteen attempts on ladies and not call the ladies forward as witnesses.
Smith, in his defence, said that it was not feasible for a man to be at the side of another and see his hands in a lady's dress as described.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DAVIS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
HIRBERT RICHARD KEMPTON . I am a solicitor's clerk in the employ ment of Messrs. Kingsford, Dorman & Co.—that firm consists of Mr. Arthur Chisolm Moore and other gentlemen—on August 26th, 1905, I gave my son Cecil this cheque (Produced) for £4 15s. 1d. to be cashed—he was not employed by the firm—I gave him certain instructions—he came back inside ten minutes, but without any cash—the cheque is drawn on the London & Westminster bank by the firm—my son made a communication to me and I spoke to the assistant cashier, Mr. Munday, who immediately went to the bank, and saw the cashier there—on his return I reported the matter to one of my principals and then went to Bow Street.
Cross-examined. I have never seen the prisoner before.
CECIL KEMPTON . I am the son of the last witness—about noon on August 26th he handed me this cheque to get cashed—I took it straight to the London & Westminster Bank and got it cashed all right—the money was given to me in a bag, which I put into my pocket—I walked back, and when I got three parts of the way back the prisoner came up to me and said there was something wrong with the cheque—I did not recognise him as anybody I had seen in the bank—I did not ask him who he was—he said, "You must go and tell your cashier and ask him to come to the bank. You must first give me the money"—I gave him the money and went back and told the firm's cashier—later in the day I went with my father to Bow Street—I remember going to the Mansion House Police Court, where from about seventeen men I picked out the prisoner—I recognised him at once.
Cross-examined. I shall be fifteen next Thursday—the prisoner was dressed in a light grey suit, no hat, and he had a pen behind his ear—I
call the coat he has on now green—I identified him by his face, not by his clothes—I am certain he had not his arm in a sling—I said at the Police Court that I picked him out of twelve men—at first I thought there were twelve, but I heard afterwards there were seventeen—I did not notice how the other men were dressed.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that he is the man.
] EGBERT ROBERTSON. I am a paying cashier at the London & Westminster Bank, Temple Bar branch—I very well remember cashing this cheque, dated August 26th, 1905, and giving the money to a messenger from Kingsford, Dorman & Co.—the cheque is in proper form—no one was sent after the messenger to whom I had given the money.
Cross-examined. It was about mid-day; I did not see the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have not seen the prisoner before.
By the COURT. I subsequently saw the cheque; it came back in the usual way, paid.
Cross-examined. At the Police Court the boy said there were twelve men, but I counted them.
Re-examined. I was present at the identification—the boy had not the slightest hesitation.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I plead not guilty and reserve my defence."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a photographic dealer at 8, Mentmore Terrace, London Fields; that on August 26th he was not in the neighbourhood of the London & Westminster bank; that on that day he was at Victoria Park, Hackney, from 11 a.m. till 4 p.m., walking about; that he had never seen the boy before; that on July 31st he fell from a brake and put his arm out; that he wore his arm in a ding for six weeks afterwards; that on August 1st he went to St. Bartholomew's hospital; that his landlady, Mrs. Dewey, at 32, Squirries Street, Bethnal Green Road, dressed it for him afterwards; that she dressed it for him on August 26th before he went out; that he never went about without a hat; and that he went to Victoria Park on August 26th, as he wanted to go out, but could not go into a crowd on account of his injured arm.
Evidence for the Defence.
THOMAS BEACH . I live at 20, Royston Street, Bonnet Lane, Victoria Park—on July 31st I was waiting for my wife to come home on the same brake which the prisoner was on, and as it pulled up I saw the prisoner fell off the front—I picked him up and took him into the saloon bar of the Bishop Bonner in Royston Street, where he had a drop of brandy—when he took his coat off I saw that his arm was grased, and when I saw him next, a couple of days afterwards, he had his arm in a sling—I had seen him
in the public-house before—I last saw him with his arm in a sling about the end of August—I did not know he had been attending St. Bartholomew's Hospital.
Cross-examined. I am a cabinet manufacturer and work at home—I was asked last Saturday week to come and give evidence—I fix July 31st at the day of the accident, because my wife was at the same outing, and I was going myself, only business prevented me—I see the prisoner several times in Bethnal Green Road a couple or three weeks after the accident; it was more than ten days.
MRS. DEWEY. I live at 32, Squirries Street—last August the prisoner lodged with me, but I cannot say the exact date—I know he had bad arm on August 1st and I bound it up for him for the first time on that day—he came to lodge with me about eighteen months before that and left about the end of August because he was going to work somewhere else—I frequently bound up his arm in the mornings because he could not do it himself—that went on for about six weeks, but I did not bind t up all that time—he had a bad arm for six weeks and he was with me nearly all that time—he came to my place after he left, but I cannot remember if his arm was still up.
Cross-examined. A friend asked me to come and give evidence—I do not know her name; it was a couple of days ago—she only came to see me—she did not mention that his arm was in a sling, but I did—I do not know how long he wore his arm in a sling—I started binding it up on August 1st—he wore an overcoat which would hide my binding up—it was his right arm—I am quite sure he left me about the end of August—I never dressed his arm after he left us.
Re-examined. His arm was bandaged and folded up when he left me, but I do not know what kept it in that position.
NOT GUILTY .
(See page 671.)
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 5th, 1906.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
209. FREDERICK ROBERT MORGAN (23) PLEADED GUILTY to uttering a counterfeit shilling on December 1st, 1905, well knowing the same to be counterfeit, and on December 13th, 1905, a counterfeit florin, well knowing the same to be counterfeit. Five previous convictions, but none for coining offences, dating from 1898, were proved against him. Twelve months' hard labour. —And
(210.) ORGY CAMBRAY (21) to unlawfully having in his possession three counterfeit half-sovereigns, 106 counterfeit half-crowns, and a counterfeit florin, well knowing the same to be false and counterfeit, with intent to utter them; also to uttering counterfeit coin twice within ten days, well knowing the same to be counterfeit Five years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
JAMES GARDINER PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against MARY GARDINER.
NOT GUILTY (See next case.)
JAMES GARDINER PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE, for the Prosecution, offend no evidence against MARY GARDINER.
NOT GUILTY .
Eight previous convictions were proved against JAMES GARDINER.† not for coinage offences. Four years' penal servitude.
213. ASHER SYMONS (28) and HENRY SHERLOCK (40) , Unlawfally having in their possession eleven counterfeit florins, knowing the same to be counterfeit, and with intent to utter the same. Second Count. Uttering a counterfeit florin, knowing it to be counterfeit.
SYMONS PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended Symons.
DORA GARFINKEL . I am the wife of a grocer at 68, Oxford Street, E.—on January 16th Symons came into my shop and asked for two pennyworth of cheese, tendering this florin (Produced)in payment—I had not change in the shop, and I went to the public-house, where the man gave me change for it—I went back to my shop and gave him the cheese and 1s. 10d. change.
ALBERT HAMILTON . I am the licensee of the Honest Lawyer, in Oxford Street, E., Mrs. Garfinkel being my next-door neighbour—she came in to me with a florin and I gave her change for it—I put the florin in my cash box on the top of other coins—the police came in and I gave it to them; it was on the top, and was the last coin I had vat in.
ALBERT BOREHAM (Detective H.) About 7.15 p.m. on January 16th I was with Detective Horne, when I saw Symons leave 68, Oxford Street, E., Mrs. Garfinkel's shop—he then joined Sherlook at the corner of Russell Street and Oxford Street, just opposite the shop—they spoke to each other and then walked together up Russell Street into Mile End Road, a distance of 500 yards—they then went into the four ale bar of the Earl Grey—while there Sherlook took something from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to Symons; it appeared to me to be like a coin; it was small—I went in and told Sherlock that I suspected him of having counterfeit coin in his possession—he said, "You have made a mistake, guv'nor"—I felt in his right-hand waistcoat pocket, where I had seen him put his hand previously, and I found ten counterfeit florins wrapped up in a small piece of paper; they were not wrapped up with layers between—I also found 1s. 3d. in good money upon him—in the doorway I asked him how he had got this counterfeit money, and he said, "You find out; what I get I am going to put up with"—Home arrested Symons—I took Sherlock to the station, where he was charged with being concerned with Symons in uttering one counterfeit coin and possessing eleven altogether with intent to utter them—he made no reply—I went to the Honest lawyer, where this bad florin was produced to me from the cash box.
Cross-examined by Sherlook. I did not come to your cell that night and say to you, "Sherlock, tell me where you got. them from and I will let you off."
ALFRED HORNE (Detective H.) I have been out of Court till just now—on January 16th I was with Boreham in Oxford Street, and at 7 p.m. I saw Sherlock standing outside the baker's shop at the corner of Russell Street and Oxford Street, right opposite Mrs. Garfinkel's shop—I saw Symons come out of Mrs. Garfinkel's shop and walk across and join Sherlock—they both turned into Russell Street and walked through into Sydney Street and so into Mile End Road, which is a distance of about 500 yards, Boreham and I following them—they then stood in the doorway of the Earl Grey and Sherlock took something from he waistcoat pocket which was wrapped in paper, and passed it to Symons—Sherlock then remained on the doorstep and Symons went into the urinal of the public-house—I followed him and said, "I believe you are passing bad money"—he said, "No, sir, I am well known here"—I brought him out and took him to Arbour Square station, where I searched him—in his left-hand jacket pocket I found one counterfeit florin—I also found a small packet of tea dust, one piece of cheese, and a tablet of soap (Produced)—he made no answer when charged—I have seen him and Sherlock together frequently during the past two months.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—the ten florins found on Sherlock, the florin found on Symons, and that passed to Mrs. Garfinkel are all counterfeit and from the same mould.
Sherlock's defence: "All I have got to say is that I did not know they were bad; I am innocent of that. I picked them up in Chappel Street, Mile End Road. This is the first time I have ever been in trouble."
It was stated that for the fast three or four months Symons had been associated with convicted thieves and that Sherlock and he had been passing counterfeit coins in the neighbourhood for the last two months. Four months' hard labour each.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
FREDERICK BLIGH (Detective, City). On January 5th I was with Detective Butcher in Aldersgate Street, when I saw the prisoner standing by Jewin Street, which runs into Aldersgate Street—I followed him from there to Fenchurch Street, when he stopped by a shop window and took a number of coins from his pocket and examined them—this was abort 4 p.m.—I had followed him for quite a mile and a quarter, and noticed him looking about as though he were looking for someone and stopping now and again—I went up to him and said, "I am a police officer and I suspect you of having counterfeit coin in your possession"—he said, "Counterfeit coin! What do you mean?"—I held out my hand and said, "Give me those counterfeit coins you have got in your pocket"—he said, "I have only a few coppers," and at the same time he pat his hand in his left-hand jacket pocket—as he refused to withdraw it I put my hand in and took out 2s. 11 3/4 d. in bronze—in his trousers pocket I
found 14s. in silver, made up of shillings and sixpences—he then put his kind in his right-hand vest pocket and said, "All right; I will give in. You may as well have them now," and he took out four counterfeit florins which he gave me; two of them were bent—he pulled out two more counterfeit florins from other pockets, one of them being wrapped in paper—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he gave no address I examined the papers found in his possession and found a slip of paper with an address at Canning Town on it—I went there and found he resided there with his parents—I was searching the premises when two men entered and went to the back of the house—I followed and bond three men fitting up a blacksmith's forge, and anvil and a furnace—I recognised one of the men as the man I had seen with the prisoner on a previous occasion—I had not Been the prisoner pass any bad money—when he was charged with possessing these four counterfeit coins with intent to utter them he made no reply—he said before the Lord Mayor, "I was out of work and a man asked me to buy them."
The prisoner said before the Magistrate: "I was out of work and I had the offer of buying them. I plead guilty."
GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, February 6th, 1906.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(see page 666.) MR. GRAHAM CAMPBELL Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended.
ERNEST HENRY SUMMERS . I am an assistant salesman to the London Stereoscopic & Photographic Company, Ltd., at 54, Cheapside—on October 2nd, 1905, I received a telephone message between 4.30 and 4.45 p.m. in consequence of which I got a camera ready valued at fifteen guineas—this (Produced) is one of our cameras, called the Lesco Reflex, but I cannot say if it is the exact one I packed; it is an exact model and has "Lesco" on it, which is the name given to these cameras—the name was invented by our manager; it is registered, but we have only had it about a year—I also packed three slides identical with these—we started selling these cameras in March, 1905, and to private customers we have sold altogether eight, and none to the trade—they are intended for amateurs—in January we took stock, and, making allowance for the eight which we sold, there is a ninth missing—having packed up the camera it was sent by our errand boy, Gilman, about 4.50—the customer was supposed to be G. Home, of New Broad Street—I was out when the boy returned.
Cross-examined. The eight cameras which we have sold since March are identical in all respects with this one—I do not think they are
numbered—there is nothing to warrant me in saying that this particular camera was one sent out on any particular day—these slides an of a different pattern to the ordinary—we have a branch at 106 and 108, Regent Street, but nowhere else, and these Lesco cameras are only sold at our Cheapside branch—if a person went to Regent Street and wanted a Lesoo they would send to our place for it—I think the last Lesco which we sold was in December, but not to the trade.
ISAAC GILMAN . Last October I was employed by the London Stereoscopic Company in Cheapside as errand boy—I have left them now—on October 2nd I received a camera from Mr. Summers to take to Mr. Horne 4b, New Broad Street—I saw it packed; it was about the size of this one—I took it to New Broad Street, and outside No. 4b, which is a photographic shop, the prisoner met me and asked if I had a camera for Mr. Horne from the London Stereoscopic Company—he was in the street just outside the shop—I said, "Yes"—he asked me if I had the slides inside the parcel—I said, "Yes"—he told me to go back and get a camera case, and to hurry back as the customer was waiting for it, and he gave me 2d. for the 'but fare—I gave him the camera—he did not ask me for it—I asked him for a receipt for it and he signed my book (Produced) in an endorsing pencil—it appears to be, "H. Nelson"—I went back for the casc but could not get one—I was sent out to try and get one, but did not succeed—I returned to Home's, where I was told something, and I then returned to my employers—I made a complaint to the police, and on December 14th I went to the Mansion House Police Court, where I saw a number of men from whom I picked out the prisoner—I looked round and then picked him out—I cannot say how many men there were—the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I left the Stereoscopic Company about four months after October 2nd—I had never seen the man who accosted me on October 2nd before, and I did not see him again till December 14th—it was getting dark when the man accosted me—I was speaking to him for about two minutes—he was dressed in a jacket suit and bowler hat, but I cannot tell you the colour of the suit—he had a slight light moustache—I did not pick the prisoner out at once on December 14th—I looked round two or three times—I gave the same description of the man to the police as I have given to-day—I told them he was a little above my own height—when I picked the prisoner out he was clean shaven—I was only a few yards from Home's shop when the man spoke to me.
Re-examined. I identified the prisoner by his face, not by his clothes—I believed the man came from Home's shop, or I should not have given him the camera.
JAMES WILLIAM TYLER . I am a photographic salesman to G. F. Hone, 4b, New Broad Street—on October 2nd Gilman came to the shop—on that day we did not send a message to the London Stereoscopic Company by telephone—I never saw the prisoner until he was at Bow Street.
EDWIN MILES . I am manager to the London Stereoscopic Company, Cheapside—this Lesco camera is in all respects similar to the Lesco cameras we sell—these slides are specially made for those cameras—we have a
shop in Regent Street, but these cameras are only supplied by the Cheap side shop—Messrs. Horne are the only dealers to whom we have supplied a Leaico; we can locate the other eight which we have sold.
Crost-examined. We have got the names of the persons to whom we sold the eight, but we do not know what they have done with them.
JESSE CROUCH (Detective-Inspector, City). On December 7th I saw the prisoner at the Minories police station—he had been detained there on some other charge—I said to him, "I am a police officer; I am going: to your address. Any property that I find there I shall bring back and star you"—I proceeded to his address at 8, Mentmore Terrace, Hackney, with Detective Walton—he had a bed-sitting room there—I there found a large trunk which contained seven cameras and a quantity of other photographic appliances; this Lesco camera is one of them—we conveyed the trunk to the Minories police station, where I laid the contents out—I showed him this camera and he said he had bought it at Stevens' sale rooms—I took him to mean Stevens, the well-known place off Covent Garden—I said, "How did you buy it—under the hammer? Have you any receipt for it?"—he said, "No, I bought it of! a man in the room"—I asked him for the man's name, but he said he did not know—I did not ask him the price—on December 14th he was brought up on remand, and on January 11th, after his release from the Court, I charged him with stealing this camera and lens—he nodded his head and said, "Yes"—I showed him the camera.
Cross-examined. He was picked out by Oilman on December 14th—he bad been in custody for a week—on January 11th, before I charged him, he had been to the police station to recover his property, but not to me personally—the prisoner was acquitted at this Court last Session—with in a week of finding this camera I ascertained that it belonged to the London Stereoscopio Company.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I plead not guilty and reserve my defence."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was a photographic dealer at his private address at 8, Mentmore Terrace, and did his dealing at Stevens" sale rooms, where he went every week and bought and sold goods; that he purchased this camera there off a dealer whom he had seen there before, about the middle of October, for £6; that it was secondhand and had the shutter broken; that on October 2nd he was not near Broad Street, but could not remember where he was on that day; that he never saw Gilman until at the Police Court; that he had never grown a moustache; that he did not know the name of the man from whom he bought the camera, but thought it was Burton or Burden; that there were twenty people in the room, whose names he did not know; and that his proper name was Mills.
GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner had been watched and had been seen with a man named Bevan (See page 430) to stop boys outside banks, and also to change his hat or cap in the street. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. FISHER Prosecuted.
JEREMIAH DALY . I am a labourer and live at 53, Great Wild street—on January 2nd I was standing at the corner of Great Wild Street and Great Queen Street, reading a letter, about 2.30 p.m., when the prisoner and another man came up and the other man bid him good-day—the prisoner came up to me and said, "Hullo, you are out of work now; you are as badly of as I am"—I said, "You mind your own business"—he said, "You are a rotten b——b——"twice—I cannot say if he was drunk, but I gave him a push, and as I turned round he came at me with a knife—the blood spurted out as I walked away with a handkerchief up, and as I got to Drury Lane he said, "There is the b——blade for you"—I west to Dr. Hine with a constable and then I went to King's College Hospital—when the detective came there I gave him the blade of the Knife—the detective passed as the prisoner stabbed me—I had seen the prisoner two or three times and he interfered with me and I walked away because I heard people say he was not right in his mind—there was no reason why he should have assaulted me.
Cross-examined. I have not been working in Exeter Street or Burleigh Street—I may have seen you, but did not know who you were—I know your father and mother and they are very respectable people—I come from Ireland, but I do not know if you do.
The prisoner: "I cannot dispute that I used the knife, but I did not do it intentionally."
ALFRED WEBB (Detective E.) On January 2nd I was passing along Great Queen Street about 2.15 p.m., in plain clothes, when I saw the prisoner shouting and appearing to be excited—I turned round and saw him strike the prosecutor with his right hand—the prosecutor ran away shouting "Police"—I saw the prisoner throw a knife away, which I picked up and found to be minus one blade (Produced)—I then seized him and told him I was a police officer—he said, "I do not care who you are; I stabbed him with a knife and I wish to Christ I had killed him, and I will do so yet"—he was taken to the station and the prosecutor to the hospital—at the hospital the prosecutor handed me the blood-stained blade of a knife which corresponds with the handle which I picked up.
GEORGE THOM . I am house surgeon at King's College Hospital, and remember the prosecutor being brought in on January 2nd, about 3 p.m.—he was bleeding from a wound in his head about two inches long, and had lost a considerable amount of blood—it was in a dangerous position, but had no dangerous consequences—a sharp instrument like this knife could have caused it
The prisoner put in a long written statement, which was only partially read, relating to the Fenian Society, the Phoenix Park murders, the Man chester murders and other matters unconnected with the case.
DR. JAMES SCOTT (By the COURT). The prisoner was received at Brixton Prison on January 3rd, and his conduct has been very good peaceable and quiet—I have had a number of conversations with him, and he has always introduced the subject of Fenians and plots which he
supposed were carried on in various parts of London which I considered were insane ideas—he seemed to be sincere in his belief of them, and I came to the conclusion that they were insane delusions—I have not detected any signs of insanity when he speaks on other matters—he would know what he was doing when he attacked the prosecutor, but I think he acted under an insane delusion.
GUILTY of the act, but insane, so as not to be responsible for his actions.
To be confined during His Majesty's pleasure.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 6th, 1906.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
217. CHARLES TABOR (26) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining £2 from Martha Ann Hall with intent to defraud; also to forging a request for the payment of £2 with intent to defraud. Nine months' hard labour. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
JOHN BEARD (Detective-Sergeant L.) At 8 p.m. on January 9th with Detective Cornish I was going home off duty, when in Kennington Cross, Lambeth, I saw the prisoner go to the door of the Roebuck and look In—from there he went to the door of the White Hart, where he looked in—he afterwards went to Clever Street, and stopped opposite a small tobacconist's shop and looked in at the door—he then walked a few yards up Princess Square, where he took a small packet from his right-hand vest pocket, replaced it and walked back to the tobacconist's shop—he then vent to Princess Square again and loitered about—I went up to him with Cornish and said, "What are you loitering about here for?"—he said;" Ihave got nothing, guv'nor"—at the same time he took this small packet from his right-hand vest pocket containing coins (Produced)—I caught hold of it and said, "What have you got there?" and he said, "Tobacco"—I secured possession of it, examined it, and found it contained twelve counterfeit shillings—I said, "Where did you get these from?" and he said, "I found them at the Cross about an hour ago. I was going to Newington Butts to look at them"—I said, "Have you any more?" and he said, "No"—I then made a further search, and in his left-hand vest pocket I found another counterfeit shilling, loose—I said, "Where did you get this one from?" and he said, "I found it; that is quite good enough for you"—I then told him I should take him into custody, and was taking him back to Kennington Lane station, when we passed the public-house where I had seen him pass on the opposite side of the road, and he said, "That is where I picked it up"—I pointed out to him that it was very wet and muddy, and was actually raining at the time, and that the packet was perfectly dry and clean—he made no reply—at the station he
was charged with possessing thirteen counterfeit shillings with intent to utter them, when he made no reply.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not know you as a hard-working young man—I have known you for three years, but not as that—outside the tobacconist's shop there was a struggle—as soon as I caught hold of you, you placed your hand in your right-hand vest pocket.
GEORGE CORNISH (Detective-Sergeant L.) I went with Beard on this evening to the prisoner—as soon as we stopped him he put his hand into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out this paper packet—Beard at once seized it and said, "What have you got there?" and he said, "Tobacco"—I took him to the station, Beard walking some way behind to see if he dropped anything—on the way he said, "I have not changed any. You have got all I have. It is unlucky for me. I have been out of work for a long time and I cannot live on nothing."
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's Mint—these thirteen shillings are all counterfeit and from the same mould—twelve of them are wrapped with a thin piece of paper between each coin, to prevent them rubbing.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I with to say I picked them up. Not guilty."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he had picked the packet up, and put it in his pocket, not knowing its contents.
GUILTY .†A previous conviction of larceny was proved against him.
Twelve months' hard labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
RICHARD NORRIS (Detective-Sergeant K.) About 8 p.m. on Saturday January 13th, I was in Grove Road, Mile End Road, when I saw the prisoner loitering outside No. 4a, a butcher's shop—he entered the shop and selected a pig's head, had it weighed, and, it having come to 2s. 1 1/2 d, he put down a florin and 1 1/2 d. in bronze—I had followed close in behind—there were other people in the shop—Mr. Ablett, the butcher, took up the money and said, "Whose money is this? It is bad"—the prisoner said, "It is mine"—I said to Mr. Abett, "Give me that coin," and I took it from his hand—I told the prisoner that I should take him into custody for passing base coin—I took him outside the shop and placed my arms around him, and with the assistance of another officer conveyed him to the station—on the way he said, "I met a man on the tram at Angel Lane, Stratford. He left the packet on the seat. He said, 'Take this packet; it will do you a bit of good.' I took it and returned to Bow. I had only just started pitching for him when you got me"—"pitching" means passing base coin—I searched him when I got to the station, and in his left vest pocket I found twelve florins done up in tissue paper wrapped round with brown paper, and two loose florins—in his coat
pocket I found 2d. in bronze—he was charged with uttering the florin to Mr. Ablett, and further with possessing fourteen counterfeit florins, and he said, "I got them from a man with a grey beard, on the tram it Stratford. I wish you had got him"—he sent for me on Sunday, the next day, and said, "My name is not Willowtry; it is George Askew."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The other constable who helped to take you to the station could not corroborate what I said you said on the way.
FREDERICK BURROUGHS (88 K.) I helped to arrest the prisoner—on the way to the station he carried on a conversation with Norris, but I could not hear what he said; he was speaking in a low tone of voice.
EDWIN JOHN ABLETT . I am a butcher, of 4a, Grove Inn Road, Mile End Road, E.—the prisoner came into my shop on January 13th and give me 2s. 1 1/2 d. for a pig's head, made up of 1 1/2 d. and this florin (Produced)—I picked it up and asked him if it was his money, and he said, "Yes"—I told him it was bad—the sergeant came and arrested him, and also took the bad florin.
WILLIAM BARHAM (Inspector K.) I was in charge of Bow police station on January 13th when the prisoner was brought in and charged with uttering counterfeit coin, knowing it. to be counterfeit, and possessing with intent to utter—he said, "I got them from a man with a grey beard on a tram at Stratford. I wish you had him."
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin at His Majesty's. Mint—these fifteen florins are all counterfeit and from the same mould—they are from one of the moulds which were found in the Bush case. (see page 769.)
R. NORRIS (Recalled by the COURT). I have made inquiries with reference to the prisoner's employers, of whom he gave me the names, and find from his employers' foreman, Mr. Fraser, of No. 3, Warehouses, London Docks, that he had been employed there a number of years during the wool sales and worked on an average seventy to ninety day each year—I also ascertained that he dealt with Mr. Roberts, whose name the prisoner gave me, at 33, Harrow Alley, where he bought knives and different things, which he sold in the street.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that the story he had told as to receiving the packet from a man on the tram was true, but that he never said from the time he was arrested till he was asked the question at the police station as to where he had got the counterfeit coins from; and that if he had said anything on the way to the station Burrows must have heard it.
GUILTY . Three months' hard labour.
221. JOHN WARRINGTON (17) and WILLIAM PULLEN (17) , Breaking into a meeting house and a place of Divine worship, and stealing therein a censer and other articles, the property of Robert Sutton Thornewill. WARRINGTON PLEADED PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. W. M. POWELL Prosecuted.
ROBERT SUTTON THORNEWILL . I am a Clerk in Holy Orders, of St. Columba's Vicarage, Kingsland Road—there is a mission house at 11 and 12, Barton Court, in connection with the church; it is unconsecrated and used for no other purposes than services—at 9.45p.m. on January 28th I left the caretaker to lock up—I went there at 9 p.m. on January 29th and found the outside door at the back broken open—there were five doors broken open altogether, two of which were doors of cupboards—I found a large hole fn the outer door, big enough for anyone to get through; half the door was gone completely; I should say it was broken; I did not examine it very carefully—I found the following goods missing: one censer, about ten candlesticks, three of which were five-branched, two pairs of boxing gloves, two pounds of candles and a quantity of new clothing which had been made by a sewing class, the value of the whole lot being about £2 10s. to £3—this censer and this pair of boxing gloves are all that have been recovered (Produced)—I cannot swear as to the identity of the gloves—I have been in charge it a club I have down there for five years, and ever since I have been there I have known Pullen; I should say he had been at service within the last month and at the club within the last three months.
Cross-examined by Pullen. I do not know anything about you.
GEORGE BELL (Constable Y.) About 9.15 a.m. on February 1st I went to 31, Wilmer Gardens, where I saw Pullen and told him I was a police officer and should take him into custody for being concerned with another man in custody for breaking and entering 12, Barton Court, a mission house—he said, "I suppose Jim has split on me. Him and I went down to the Exchange in the Lane and sold the clothes for half-a-crown. Jim sold the brass"—Jim was Warrington—he was then detained and at 1.30 p.m. he was placed among nine other lads, when he was identified by a marine store dealer to whom he had offered the brass for sale—when charged he said the boxing gloves were at Jim's house—they were afterwards found in a cupboard at Warrington's house, 8, Barton Court.
SAMUEL GREEN . I am a marine store dealer, of 82, St. John's Road—on Monday, January 29th, Pullen brought this brass (Censer produced), which I thought then was the weight of a swing lamp—we put it on a scale and I said, "You have not got enough there," and he said, "I have plenty more at home"—he went away, leaving the censer, and I never saw him again—I picked him out afterwards at the police station, from some other boys, as being the boy who came to me and tried to sell me the brass.
Cross-examined. I had never seen you before this.
Pullen: "I do not know the man; I have never seen him before."
Pullen's statement before the Magistrate: "I do not know anything at all about it. Warrington came in the night and asked me to go out with him. I said I could not go, as my mother wanted to move."
Evidence in Defence.
ELIZABETH PULLEN (By the COURT). I am Pullen's mother—on Monday, January 29th, he did not get up till 10 a.m.—he went out at 11 a.m. and came back at 1 p.m.—he stayed in for a little while, went out again, and came back at 5—I asked him to stay and help me move, and he stayed—I do not know anything about him on Sunday—on the Monday night Warrington, who is called "Johnny" and not "Jim," came, and my son asked him to stay and help him move.
Cross-examined. He came about 5.15 p.m. and my son asked him to stop—they finished moving at 8 p.m. and left me at 8.30 p.m.; I do not know where they went to.
JESSIE EDWARDS (By the COURT). I am Pullen's aunt, and sister of Elisabeth Pullen, and live at 28, Wilmer Gardens—between 5 and 5.30 p.m. on Monday, January 29th, I saw Pullen helping to move his mother's things from one house in Wilmer Gardens to another house—he left at 8 p.m. and I saw him no more.
GUILTY . PULLEN then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on May 19th 1905, at Worship Street Police Court. Six months hard labour.
WARRINGTON— Discharged on recognisances.
FREDERICK CURRY (64 H.) I cannot say whether the prosecutor is here today; he was not here yesterday—shortly after 1 p.m. on January 6th I was in Cable Street, in the parish of St. George's near the London Docks, when I saw the prisoner in company with another man, not in custody, along with the prosecutor, who was drunk—the prisoner was on his right-hand side, leading him or steering him along—they went into Wellclose Square—I followed them up to the urinal, where they tried to get the prosecutor in—he refused to go in and they shoved him down outside—I then saw the prisoner put his right hand into the right-hand trousers pocket of the prosecutor—I went towards him, when I see some money in the prisoner's right hand, and he passed it into his left—when I tried to get hold of him he slipped by me—I chased him for nearly half a mile round the turnings when he was turned by Police Constable Crowe—he ran back into my arms—he was taken to the station, where he was charged and made no reply—the prosecutor was drunk at the time, but the prisoner was quite sober. [The learned Judge overruled the question of whether the prosecutor subsequently identified the prisoner, as the prosecutor was not in attendance at the Court.]
Cross-examined. I was going home towards Shadwell from Leman Street police station at the time, and the prosecutor and the prisoner and the other man were coming towards me from the east—I should be about forty or fifty yards away from them when I first saw them; I was
behind a van at the time—I was thirty yards away when they went down Shorter Street, so I followed them—just as they turned the corner I lost sight of them—I kept them in view down Shorter Street—when they got to the bottom of Shorter Street I was at the top—they were going at a walking pare—I do not think there is much difference between dragging a drunken man along and steering him—they were dragging him along against his will, as I thought—they were only out of my sight half a minute—they got to the urinal before I got to the north-east corner of Wellclose Square; I was on the other side of the railings at the corner, which were between me and them—the railings have plates over them—I cannot see through a plate—I did see them in front of the urinal, but not through these plates—I could see them turn and try to get him into the urinal—I drew up at the corner—I was clear of the corner and was about twenty yards away at the time—the prosecutor seemed to fall down and the others with him; I cannot say they all slipped—the prosecutor was incapable of holding himself up; they kind of shoved him down—the other man ran away when I approached, but he was there when I saw the prisoner put his hand in the prosecutor's pocket—I cannot say which way he went, or whether he went up Shorter Street or not—the prisoner ran round part of Wellclose Square and up Shorter Street—I had not got my eye on the other man—I was about fifteen or twenty yards behind the prisoner, and at one time about thirty yards—he was stopped at the corner of North Street—I did not see him run after a man at all.
Re-examined. It was daylight—I saw the prisoner before he turned into Wellclose Square, and I saw him again when I caught him, and I have no doubt it was the same man that I had seen before.
EDGAR CROWE (362 H.) I was in Cable Street on January 6th, shortly after 1 p.m., when I saw the prisoner running, followed by Police Constable Curry—the prisoner saw me in front of him, and turned and was caught by Curry—as he ran he put his left hand in his pocket, and made the motion of throwing something away—I cannot swear that he threw anything.
Cross-examined. I found nothing on him—I was about fifty yards away when I first saw him; he was coming towards me—he had run another ten yards nearer to me when I saw him make the motion of throwing away something.
Re-examined. It was daylight, so I could see perfectly well from fifty yards.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he saw two men fighting outside a public-house, the prosecutor being one of them; that with others he parted them and led the prosecutor down Weliclose Square to near the urinal, and then left him; that on looking round he saw him being robbed by two men, and that while chasing one of the men he was stopped by the constable and given in charge; that he never put his hand in the prosecutor's pocket; that the constable could not have seen him taking the prosecutor along Cable Street, and down Shorter Street, as he was not with the prosecutor there; and that the man with whom the prosecutor had been fighting, named Johnson, had given evidence on his behalf at the Police Court, but had failed to appear at this Court.
NOT GUILTY .
223. SAMUEL EDWARD DANSON (21) PLEADED GUILTY to being in the dwelling house of Walter Rogers and stealing therein two pairs of sleeve links and other articles, his property, and the sum of £8, the moneys of George Hodson, and afterwards burglariously breaking out of the said dwelling house. ( See next case.)
224. SAMUEL EDWARD DAN SON was again indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling house of Edward Samuel Fleetwood and stealing therein a bicycle and other articles and the sum of £3 10s., his property and moneys. Second Count, Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
EDWARD SAMUEL FLEETWOOD . I am an oil merchant, of 74, Lorn Road, Forest Gate—at 2.30 p.m. on January 1st I left that house empty, but with the front door securely fastened—on my return I found the front door burst open, and I missed a gentleman's bicycle, a silver chain, a pair of boots, a lady's small gold chain, a gold scarf pin, three silver watches, and £3 10s. in gold, which were all safe when I left the house—the bicycle was in a room—I have seen it and the silver chain since (Produced).
WALTER SELBY (Sergeant G.) At 10.30 a.m. on January 6th I was with Cunningham in Northampton Road, Clerkenwell, where I saw the prisoner wheeling this bicycle (Produced)—he entered the Red Lion, Northampton Road, and we followed him in—I told him I should arrest him on a charge of burglary, to which indictment he has pleaded guilty—we conveyed him to King's Cross Road police station—on the way he became very violent, and we had great difficulty in getting him to the station—when there I said to him, "Is this bicycle your property?"—he said, "No, it belongs to a friend of mine. I am trying to sell it for him"—I said, "What is his name and where does he live?"—he said, "I do not know, and if I did I would not tell you."
JAMES CUNNINGHAM (Sergeant G.) I was with Selby and was present when the prisoner made his explanation as to the possession of the bicycle—on searching him I found a pawnbroker's duplicate ticket for a chain (Produced)—with regard to that he said it belonged to his friend, who owned the bicycle.
DOUGLAS SAUNDERS . I am a pawnbroker's assistant to Mr. Pockett, of 35, Gray's Inn Road, and produce a duplicate ticket for a silver chain pledged with us on January 3rd—I have compared it with the other ticket found—this is the chain (Produced) —it was pledged in the name of John Seymour, of 14, Wilson Street, Gray's Inn Road, but I cannot recognise the person who pledged it.
GUY MERCER (Detective-Sergeant K.) At 10 p.m. on January 1st I examined Mr. Fleetwood's premises, and found an entry had been effected by forcing the front door—there were jemmy marks on the front of the door, the box of the lock was burst right off, and the wood was all splintered as if by some blunt instrument.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "On Monday, January 1st, 1906, I was in Rowton House, Fieldgate Street, Whitechapel. A man accosted me whom I had seen several times within the last year or so. He said, 'Would you like to buy a bicycle?' as his son wanted to get this year's patent. I said, 'No, I have no money.' He says, 'Do you know of anyone who will buy it?' I said, 'I might be able to sell it where I am living.' He said, 'Where is that?' I said, 'Rowton House, King's Cross Road.' He said, 'I will come over with you and stop there.' We both stopped there that night. On the Tuesday morning I met him in Rowton House. He had a bicycle with him and asked me to take charge of it. I left it in the parcel room of Rowton House. On the Wednesday morning, while out together, he asked me to lend him 10s. I said, 'I cannot do it.' He then asked me if I would pawn his chain. I said, 'I do not like the job.' He said if I took it in he would let me have the ticket, so that I could get it out for myself, seeing that I was wearing a black ribbon as a watch guard. On the Thursday or Friday he again asked me for some more money. I said I had none, but I might be able to borrow some. I went to a friend of mine and borrowed 15s. and I gave him 10s. deposit for the machine. He saw me arrested and got away. I can give the address where I borrowed the money."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had obtained the bicycle on January 2nd from a friend of his who gave him the name of Melville, paying him 10 s. deposit, which he borrowed from Mr. Seers, the manager of the Farringdon Watch Company, whom he had expected would appear as a witness for him; that when he was arrested he was negotiating with a young lady in the public-house for the sale of the bicycle, Melville waiting outside; that he did not inform the police that Melville was waiting outside, because he expected him to have come forward to claim the bicycle; that on the next day, at Melville's request he pawned a silver chain for him on the condition that he (the prisoner) kept the ticket.
GUILTY on the second count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Bow Street Police Court on April 24 th, 1903, as Edward Danson. Two previous convictions were proved against him. He was stated to be an associate of thieves and had been a great source of trouble to his parents, who had done everything they could for him. Twelve months* hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, February 6th, 1906.
Before His Honour Judge Rentoul, Commissioner,
225. HENRY TOWNSEND (70) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining from Herbert Page £1 by false pretences, with intent to defraud; also to obtaining credit by means of false pretences, and to incurring a debt and liability to him; having been convicted at the North London Sessions on July 21st, 1903, of having obtained goods by false pretences. Seven other convictions were proved against him. Nine months' hard labour. —And
(226.) JOHANN KOEPP (19) to feloniously receiving and having in his possession a watch-and other articles belonging to Alma Klein, knowing them to have been stolen outside the United Kingdom. Six months' hard labour, and expulsion from the country to be recommended. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ELLIOTT and MR. FITCH Prosecuted; MR. JENKINS Defended.
AGATHA MAUD McKILLEN . I live at 17, Byron Road, Seacombe, Cheshire—the prisoner is my sister—her name is Maggie McKillen—my father was James McKillen, a joiner and builder, who died twenty-three years ago—the prisoner is thirty years of age—I have lost sight of her for some considerable time—I was at school with her.
Cross-examined. I am twenty-seven years of age—the prisoner is three years older than I am—I know she is my sister, because I was brought up with her—my mother is alive, but she is in bad health, and unable to come here—I honestly believe the prisoner is my sister.
Re-examined. My mother is seventy-five years old—she is not in good health, and could not travel—my sister lived in the same house with me until she was thirteen years of age—I have not seen her since.
WILLIAM LEAF . I am curate-in-charge of Holy Trinity, Southwark—I recognise the prisoner as the person I married to Mr. Prebble on September 22nd, 1896—I have seen a copy of the certificate (Produced)—the names of the parties contracting the marriage are Nina Margaret Stolterfoht, twenty-one, and Ernest Alfred Prebble, twenty-seven—I have seen the husband once since; I believe he was a private in some regiment.
LADY MURIEL PAGET . My husband is Mr. Paget—I do not know the prisoner, nor anyone named J. Davies—I did not authorise anyone to write to Esme Collings in that name—I have seen the letters produced—I know nothing about them—I never stayed at the Hotel Metropole in Brighton—I do not know E. J. Roberts—I never stayed at Arundel Square, nor at Winwick Hall—I never had any miniatures from Esme pollings, Limited; I have never been inside their place—I am no relation to the Anglesey family—my proper title is Lady Muriel Evelyn Vernon—my name before marriage was Finch-Hatton—I am daughter of the eleventh Earl of Winchelsea—the die on these letters produced is not the die of my family crest—nobody else is entitled to use the name of Lady Muriel Paget; I am the only person.
Cross-examined. I never lived at 38, Charlwood Street, Pimlico—I was not at an hotel in Brighton when these letters were written—I was never at Portslade—I have not gone under the name of Lady Muriel W. Paget—I have never used the term Lady Muriel Wyndham Paget.
Re-examined. There is no one entitled to the name of Lady Muriel Wyndham Paget.
J. Davies—that letter lies been destroyed; at all events it has gone from the letter file—I afterwards received Exhibit A: "Be good enough to forward me a copy of my cousin, the late Merquis of Anglesey"—I had painted a miniature of the late Marquis, and I replied to 38, Charlwood Street, to that effect—I then received Exhibit B, making an appointment to be photographed, which was not kept—on June 22nd the prisoner came—I saw her—she said she was Lady Muriel Paget, a cousin of the late Lord Anglesey, and she wanted to see a painting of the miniature of him, and that she also might want portraits of herself, for which she made an appointment to sit the following day—she said it was very foolish of her secretary to have made an appointment for the 20th, as she knew she would be at Ascot that day—she also mentioned that there had been a motor accident in Piccadilly, that she had run into the back of an old lady's carriage, with her mother, and had upset it—at that interview she simply ordered the miniature of Lord Anglesey—she came the following day and sat for her own photograph—on July 1st, after I had sent proofs of her photograph, she came again—she ordered from her proofs her own miniature, four dozen whole plate photographs, two Cosway pictures coloured, two Hogarth frames, and a gilt rim to be fitted to Lord Anglesey's miniature—the value of her own miniature was twenty guineas, and the Anglesey pictures were to be twenty-five guineas, the rim was to be two guineas, the four dozen photographs sixteen guineas, and the Cosway pictures £3 17s. (6d.—I call myself Cosway, and my establishment the Cosway Gallery—she sat several times for her miniature; it had to be reduced—she said she had been staying at Anglesey Castle, and when she was there Lord Anglesey was always wanting to call on her, and try on her dresses, and that she used to call him "Poor Cyril"—she sent Lord Anglesey's miniature back for a glass to be fitted to preserve it from damp—those letters were all signed "J. Davies"—when I received Exhibit D of July 27th from "Hove, Portslade," I did not know that she was a nurse at a sanatorium—we addressed a letter to Portslade, end it was returned—she gave the various addresses in the letters produced—we sent the goods she ordered, and the amount of our account comes to £77 7s. 6d.—it is made out to Lady Muriel Paget—I do not know anything about Wyndham Paget—I never heard that name given—we were never paid—on November 18th I instructed our solicitors to write to Lady Muriel Paget, when the debt was repudiated—on November 20th I went to 5, Churton Place, Pimlico—the prisoner opened the door—I asked if Mrs. True lived there—it was rather dark, hut I afterwards recognised her—she said she was Mrs. True—I told her she was not Mrs. True, but was the woman who had been posing as Lady Muriel Paget—she asked me to go in after I had remained with my foot in the doorway—I told her I was very dissatisfied, and that I had been consulting our solicitors and had told them to take what action they thought advisable—she said she had a perfect right to the name, because it was the name she had before she was married—she afterwards wrote from 5, Churton Place, "Since you wish for an acknowledgment of my indebtedness, I give it; I have had both miniatures, but nothing further. I have been suffering
from an infections disease, and could not do anything else in the matter. My fingers were sore through scarlet fever"—we have recovered all the property—we keep a Permission Book in which well-known ladies write their names, giving us permission to send their pictures to the papers for production—unless we have that permission we cannot publish a portrait—the signature produced, "Lady Muriel Paget," is that of the prisoner—in consequence of the prisoner's representations we executed her orders—she gave us permission to publish her portrait—I believed her when she told me she was Lady Muriel Paget and a cousin of the Marquis of Anglesey—I did not know that Winwick Hall was the ward of an asylum.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner sign the book—I do not know the date—it would not necessarily be before we executed the orders—it is signed "M. Wyndham Paget"—I have not looked up the Peerage, but I made inquiries through the usual inquiry agencies—I instructed oar Mr. Herbert to write for payment of the account—Lady Muriel Paget repudiated the account—I did not issue a writ, because I was advised by our solicitor not to do so, as there might be some mistake—we wrote to 38, Charlwood Street, but could get no answers—I also wrote to Winwick Hall—I cannot tell you whether any of my letters went to the real Lady Paget or not—I did get replies that her ladyship was travelling, sad so on—I took criminal proceedings directly I found what a mistake I had made—I cannot say if proceedings would have been taken if the account had been paid.
Re-examined. I wrote letters to Lady Muriel Paget, whoever that might be—I got replies, some of them from Charlwood Street—the photographs produced are those we supplied.
FLORENCE HANNAH . I painted the two miniatures that have been produced—the prisoner sat for one of them under the name of Lady Muriel Paget—she talked to me in the ordinary way during the sitting—she spoke of the Marquis of Anglesey, and of her visit to her cousin's house—she said her hair was dyed when the remark was made that she was not like the Marquis, as she was very fair and he was dark—we had executed a painting of the Marquis from life.
MAY McFARLANE . I am receptionist at Esme Collings, Limited—on Jane 14th the prisoner called—the last time I saw her was June 3rd—she announced herself as Lady Muriel Paget—she said she was a cousin of the late Marquis of Anglesey and wanted a miniature—we usually ask anyone of title for permission to reproduce the portrait for the illustrated papers—we asked her, and she gave us permission on June 23rd—the top part of the writing in the paper produced is mine and the name is the name she gave me—on August 9th the photographs were sent to Arundel Square, addressed to Lady Muriel Paget, and two Cosway pictures on August 17th to Hove, Portslade—on July 28th the miniatures were sent, and on August 22nd the remaining photographs; all were addressed to Lady Muriel Paget.
Cross-examined. She had no objection to sign the Permission Book—I did not look up her name in the Peerage.
LIONEL CAMP . I am an assistant to Messrs. Attenborough, pawnbrokers, John Street, Golden Square—the ticket produced is a pawnticket for a gold locket pawned on November 20th by the prisoner in the name of Mrs. Paget, Anglesey Castle, Bangor.
Cross-examined. More people give the right name in pawning than the wrong one—we ask for the name and address, and take what the people give—I have given evidence in criminal cases at the North London Sessions—I do not know that addresses given us are false.
LEWIS GOOD . I am an assistant to Mr. Haycock, 44, Wilton Road Victoria, pawnbroker—I produce a silver gilt frame pawned by the prisoner on November 18th in the name of Mrs. Paget, of the Hotel Metropole Brighton.
WILLIAM FREDERICK COOK . I am a clerk to Debenham & Freebody of Wigmore Street—on May 29th I received the letter produced from Winwick Hall, Warrington (Ordering a toque and other goods on approved)—I did not know what Winwick Hall was—I sent a catalogue addressed to "The Honourable M. W. Paget, Winwick Hall," having a telegram asking for a copy, on June 2nd—all the letters that came to our firm had a coronet and a "P" on them—she requested an ostrich pelerine, which I sent—in consequence of a telephone message on June 19th sent a dust coat and other articles to the same address, for the same person—the next letter I received was June 22nd and on the same day another apologising as the parcel had arrived and that the things she did not wish to keep would be returned from Hove, Portslade—that was signed in the name of "J. Davies" in the same writing as the signature "M. Wyndham Paget" from Winwick Hall—the total amount of our bill was £12 13s. 6d.—we have never been paid—I believe an account has been rendered to the Honourable M. W. Paget, Winwick Hall Warrington—we have no previous account in our ledger under that name, nor the name of Margaret Prebble—I believed the goods were being sent to the Honourable M. W. Paget.
Cross-examined. I do not think we ever had the name Lady Muriel Paget—sometimes she is referred to in the letters signed "J. Davies" as "Her Ladyship"—we only sent our bill in—I do not think we had any thought of any criminal proceedings, but I am not in a position to say; I simply passed the orders—I never thought, until approached in this case, that we had been defrauded—I do not think we should have sent the goods if no "Honourable" or "Ladyship" had been referred to, without something else being found out about the customer, but in the case of a title we usually send in a small amount—it was the "little of title" that made us part with the goods—no one spoke to me abort this—I am solely responsible.
ETHEL LEWIS . I am an assistant in the order room of Debenham & Freebody—on June 19th I got a telephone message and made this note of it—it is an order for a black skirt, and other goods, "on appro.," and the address given is "The Honourable Miss Paget, Winwick Hall, near Warrington."
Freebody—I prepared parcels on June 2nd containing a white feather Stole, on June 6th a grey ostrich cape, and on June 20th four blouses, a skirt, and a dust coat—they were addressed to the Honourable Miss. paget, and were all dispatched to Winwick Hall.
GEORGE TUFFS . I am in the postal department of Messrs. Debenham & Freebody—on June 2nd I posted a parcel addressed to the Honourable M. W. Paget, Winwick Hall, Warrington, and entered in this postage book, "Paget, Warrington, 4d."
WILLIAM HERBERT COOPER . I am in the employ of Debenham & Freebody—on June 6th I received from Dayns a parcel addressed to the Honourable M. W. Paget, Winwick Hall, to be despatched by post, and produce the book with that entry.
JAMES FOWLES . I am a clerk in the despatch department of Debenham & Freebody—on June 1st I handed a parcel to Messrs. Carter Paterson, addressed to the Honourable Miss Paget, Winwick Hall, Warrington—this is the despatch book, which contans a note of it.
WINIFRED TAYLOR . I am ledger clerk to Debenham & Freebody—on July 19th I prepared a statement of account with the Honourable Miss Paget, of Winwick Hall, Warrington, amounting to £6 14s. 6d., and on August 22nd a further full statement, amounting to £12 13s. 6d.
NATHALIE MARTIN . I am an assistant in the show room of Berkeleys, Limited, costumiers, in Victoria Street—I remember the prisoner coming to our premises on June 27th last—that was the first time I had seen her—she asked for a costume—I showed her some—she picked out a pink one—the price was six guineas—I asked her for her name and address—she gave me "Lady Muriel Paget, 38, Charlwood Street"—I handed the costume to another department, where she had ordered other goods—on July 5th I packed the costume for delivery to 38, Charlwood Street—I never heard anything about "Wyndham" as being her name—this is the box in which I packed the costume.
CHARLES ROBERT BEACH . I am manager of Berkeleys, Limited, 125, Victoria Street—the last witness made a communication to me, in consequence of which I made inquiries about Lady Muriel Paget, and in consequence of replies to my inquiries I sanctioned the execution of the order for the pink costume—I wrote to Lady Muriel Paget, 38, Charlwood Street—the correspondence ensued which is produced, in which estimates were given, and the other goods referred to were ordered and sent, for which an account has been rendered, amounting to £16 8s.—none of that account has been paid—I believed I was dealing with Lady Muriel Paget, and the inquiries I made were about her—if I had known whom I was dealing with I should not have sent the goods.
Cross-examined. I found there was such a person as Lady Muriel Pagett—the replies were satisfactory, and I supposed I was supplying her with the goods to 38, Charlwood Street—I did not look up the name Lady Muriel Paget in the Peerage, nor in the Directory—our inquiries were made through a Trade Protection Society—we knew nothing about Wyndham gave us the name Lady Muriel Paget—I furnished the address to the society in making the inquiries—so far as I can judg
from walking along it, I believe Charlwood Street to be a respectable street—the prisoner first came to us on June 27th—we sent her a skirt and other goods on August 15th; on August 4th we sent three bodice pieces, so that our business relations were from June 27th to August 15th—she was constantly writing to us during that time, and we were constantly writing to her—I took no civil proceedings, nor any criminal proceedings—we did not know that we had been defrauded till the police came to us—if we had been paid we should not have wanted to take any proceedings Re-examined. Until the police came I had no idea that we were dealing with anyone else except Lady Muriel Paget—we sent goods to Winwick Hall, Warrington, and to Portslade, Brighton—we gave our trust to Lady Muriel Paget.
FREDERICK SMITH . I am head porter at Berkeleys—I oversaw the packing of a box on August 4th, containing three black skirts and body pieces—it was addressed to Lady Muriel Paget, Portslade, Sussex—I took it to the post and got this receipt for it—on August 15th I helped to pack in a box a skirt and a lace frill—that was addressed to Lady Muriel Paget, Hotel Metropole, Brighton, and it was sent to the railway for despatch.
EMILY BIRD . I am matron of the County Asylum, Winwick, Warrington, Lancashire—the prisoner was engaged there as nurse on April 3rd last—I produce her application form, in which she gives her name as Muriel Wyndham Paget—she usually had her letters and parcels addressed to "The Honourable Wyndham Paget, Winwick Hall, Lancashire"—a part of the asylum inhabited by fifty boys is known as Winwick Hall—she had nothing to do with that—the correct address is "The County Asylum, Winwick"—she once told me she was cousin to the Marquis of Anglesey—she had no maid when she was at the asylum—nobody named J. Davies was staying there—she had no private secretary—she gave satisfaction as 3 nurse—she was engaged at a salary of £18 a year.
Cross-examined. I made no inquiries as to her being a relation of the Marquis of Anglesey—she was known to us as Miss Muriel Wyndham Paget, but her letters were addressed as "The Honourable."
Re-examined. Letters and parcels came for her after she left, which were re-addressed by myself and forwarded.
WINIFRED BERGHAUSER . I am the wife of Frank Berghauser, of 38, Charlwood Street, Pimlico—we let lodgings—the prisoner came there on June 3rd under the name of Lady Muriel Paget—she engaged a bed sitting room at 10s. a week—she said she came to us because she could not get on with her mother, who was Lady Alfred Paget, and that she was related to the late Lord Anglesey, whom she called Cyril; she said he was her cousin—she also gave the address of Lord Berkeley Paget, of 11, Upper Wimpole Street—she had a number of letters and parcels come, and she said some fools had sent some of them to Winwick Hall, where she had gone as a nurse in order to see how the patients were treated—she said she expected some parcels from Winwick which had been sent by Debenham & Freebody and others—I saw some of the parcels opened—some
were addressed to "Lady Muriel Paget," and some to "The Honourable Muriel Paget"—one parcel I saw opened contained a feather stole, another two hats, and one some white dresses, two cream dresses, and one some blouses and a grey dust cloak—I have seen her wearing a cloak which she told me was grey, but which had been dyed red—she said she expected a dress from Berkeleys, and asked if I would let her know when it arrived—this is the parcel (Produced) that did arrive—she was not present then, and my husband wrote to her at Arundel Square as the Honourable M. W. paget, telling her the parcel had arrived from Berkeleys, and asking if she desired it forwarded—Mrs. Smith, her landlady in Arundel Square, called in response to the letter, and I handed her the box and the feather stole—a few days afterwards the prisoner called—she had on a pink gown, which She told me she had from Berkeleys—I was paid for the lodgings.
ROSE SMITH . I am the wife of Alfred Smith, of 31, Arundel Square, N.—I keep a private boarding house—I first saw the prisoner on July 2nd or 3rd she came to visit Dr. James Roberts, who was staying as a boarder—she came with Dr. Roberts one evening when I did not see her—she did not stay—she came on July 6th in the early morning with a carriage and pair—she asked for Dr. Roberts—I said he had gone out—"Oh," she said, "I must see him, because my mother will be going to the hospital to see him"—I asked her why and she said, "I have slipped my mother at the station; I wanted to be a nurse, and my mother has been to object to my having the post, and I came in the carriage to fetch him"—she came back, in the afternoon, and Dr. Roberts asked me to take her in—we arranged for a private bed and sitting room at £1 3s. a week—I charged £1 3s. for nine days' rent—after tea, when I took her to show her the rooms, she hid she was Lady Muriel Paget—she said her mother was Lady Alfred paget, the wife of Major Paget, that General Albert Paget was her eldest brother, that Rowland Paget was her youngest brother, that the used to call him Rowley, that the late Marquis of Anglesey was her cousin, and that she called him Cyril—on July 9th she handed me this letter from Berghauser, saying that a parcel had come from Berkeleys, and she asked me if I would go and fetch it—I did so, and it was opened in my presence—in the dining room—I saw a pink muslin dress with cream lace inserted—she had not said anything about having dealt with Berkeleys previous to that—she did not say how long she had dealt with them—she arrived in a creamy white serge dress—I remarked how pretty the dress from Berkeleys was, and that it must have been very expensive—she said it was six guineas, but it did not matter, as her mother paid for all her dresses, but allowed her no pocket money—I brought her this brown box with me—in it was this grey and white feather boa—she said, "Fancy my silly old fool a mother sending a thing like that; it is too big"—I said it was very handsome—she said, "It cost seven guineas, but we are getting it for five, with a bodice"—she stayed from July 6th till the 14th—the owed me £4 8s. 4d. with cab expenses and other things which I paid for her—I have not been paid—I got one letter after she had left.
parcels came for her on August 8th—I handed those to the police.
LILIAN BAKER . I am matron of the Hove Sanatorium, Portsade—the prisoner came there on July 15th last as a probationer nurse—she remained till August 5th—letters came to her addressed as Lady Muriel Paget, and some as the Honourable Muriel Paget—she resigned of her own accord—I saw her wearing a miniature once—it was like the one produced—she said it was of Lord Anglesey, her cousin—when she weat away she said she was going to Anglesey Castle—she was a satisfactory nurse—her wages were £18 a year.
ALGERNON HODSON, M.D . Charles Thomas Pepperell, the secretary of the Hotel Metropole, Brighton, is a patient of mine—I saw him on Saturday—he is not in a condition to travel and to attend this Court as a witness.
EDWARD DREW (Inspector, Scotland Yard). I was present at the Police Court when Charles Thomas Pepperell gave his evidence—I saw him sign his deposition—the prisoner was represented in Court—an opportunity was given of cross-examination—the witness was specially directed to attend on the remand, and he presented himself for that purpose, but he was not cross-examined—his deposition was read over to him (Read): "And this deponent, Charles Thomas Pepperell, secretary of Gordon's Hotel Metropole, Brighton, on oath saith as follows: The letter produced, dated 16th July, purporting to be from Lady Muriel W. Paget was received by me "O." I also received the letter produced dated 26th July, signed M. Paget, "P," and the same day the letter marked "Q," to which I replied. The letter marked 31st July, "R," was received by me. On August 5th prisoner arrived at the Hotel Metropole about 7.30 to 8 p.m. Portslade is three or four miles from Brighton. She took Room No. 608, booking it in the name of Lady Paget she signed the register in the name of M. W. Paget. She remained at the Metropole nine days, and left on the 14th without then paying her bill She wrote letter "S" for it to be sent on to her, and it was sent. I amounted to £19 10s. Part of that account, the week's bill, is produced, "T." A parcel came for her after she left, and was forwarded to her with letters to 38, Charlwood Street, Belgravia, and I received the letter produced, dated August 17th, acknowledging their receipt. The account was never paid. Cross-examination reserved." (Letter "O" was as paper with a crest and letter "P." and was headed 38, Charlwood Street, S.W.
July 10 th 1905," signed "Lady Muriel W. Paget," stating that she had written some letters on the Metropole paper, and asked that any letter coming to the hotel should be re-directed to her.) ("P" Read): "Hove, Portslade, Sussex, July 26th, 1905. Dear Sir,—The enclosed letter was received by me from the manager at the Cosway Galleries. I gave him your address, knowing that sooner or later I should arrive there. The delay in doing so is owing to the shock my brother got through a motor accident. I shall be glad if anything arriving before the 1st should therefore be sent on here. We will arrive some time after the noon train from here. M. Paget." ("Q"): "July 26th. Lady Muriel Paget presents her compliments to the manager, and desires him to say or give instruction
that in the event of callers Lady Muriel will be at the Metropole on 1st August until the end of month, and letters and parcel; had better wait Lady Muriel unless sent for. If the manager should de tire to write Lady Muriel, any letters addressed 'Portslade' will find her; but this address must not be given to callers." ("R"): "Portslade, Sussex, July 31st. Dear Sir,—I thank you for your letter and the letters sent on. I fear unless our governess arrives by a later train I will not arrive to-morrow. I shall be obliged to see the children in safe hands first. Their governess was to have returned last night from France. It is just possible that she has missed the boat. I therefore will arrive later in the week. M. Wyndham Paget." "S" is signed M. W. Paget" and dated 38, Charlwood Street, S.W., August 13th, 1905 (Asking for her account, and stating that she would not be in Brighton for some time owing to an accident, and also asking that some dresses that she had sent to a dressmaker's for alteration should be forwarded to her after they were returned to the hotel)—"T" is the hotel account.
THOMAS DUGGAN (Sergeant S.) On November 21st last I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest, and about 10 p.m. I went with Inspector Drew to 5, Churton Place, Pimlico—Drew first entered the house, and Afterwards called me in—in the front room I saw the prisoner and Drew asked me if I knew her—I said, "Yes, I know her as Princess Soltykoff"—then addressing the prisoner, I said, "But your true name is Margaret True Prebble"—she dropped her head And then said, "Yes, Mr. Duggan, that is true"—Drew? told her the object of our visit, and mentioned the property—she led the way to the basement, and pointed to a cupboard—we found the four pawntickets produced, two of which relate to miniatures—the warrant was read to her, and she said, "I admit I had the miniatures, and nothing else, which I pawned"—she produced a metal die from a table in a little bedroom—I also found a visiting card on which was the name, "The Honourable M. W. Paget," also a bill in the name of "Lady Muriel Paget" from the Hotel Metropole, Brighton, and memoranda in the name of Lady Muriel Paget—when charged at the police station she said, "I know there were two miniatures and nothing else, nothing at all"—when charged at Maryborough Street on the Berkeley charge she said, "It is no question of fraud; I certainly had a matter of account with Berkeleys, Limited"—when I first went to Churton Place I found this envelope, and this typed document, in the margin of which is what I believe to be the prisoner's writing.
ELLEN ATKINSON . I am principal wardress in the prison at Holloway—when the prisoner came under my charge on November 23rd she asked for writing materials and to have a letter addressed to Inspector Drew—I initialed the letter.
E. DREW (Re-examined). On November 24th I received the letter produced—about 9 p.m. on November 21st I went with Duggan to 5, churton Place—I left him outside—I found the prisoner in the first floor back room, sitting on the bed, and a man in the uniform of the Army Hospital Corps—I told her I believed she was Sirs. Prebble—she said,
"yes" and pointing to the soldier, she said, "He is my husband; he knows nothing about it"—I said, "You must have heard your landlady tell me you were not in"—she said, "Yes; I told her to say I was not in"—I said, "I have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of obtaining two miniatures and other portraits from Esme Collings, Limited," and I then signed for Duggan to come into the room—the prisoner then said she had got them downstairs, and she would hand them to me—when Duggan came in he recognised her as the woman who had personated Princess Soltykoff—the rest of the conversation has been related by Duggan—she went downstairs and pointed to the top of a cupboard in the kitchen, in which were found two pawn-tickets relating to miniatures in an envelope which was sealed with sealing wax, and with a crest, a coronet, and a "P" similar to that used on the letters written by the prisoner in this case—she was taken upstairs and the warrant read over to her—we began to search the room—she said, "I do not know what made me do it; I must have been mad"—she was afterwards taken to Vine Street police station and charged—she was taken before the Magistrate the following morning and remanded two days, during which time the letter produced came to me, dated November 24th, in which she states, "I never told Mr. Cosway, I am sure, that I was Lady M. Paget, or at least that I was the person he speaks of; I stated it was my name like I could take yours if I did not claim to be you"—on December 13th the prisoner was charged in this case—from inquiries it was ascertained that she had obtained goods from Debenham & Freebody—when the charge was read over to her, she said, "The whole of the things came after I left the asylum, and were in the hands of the railway company for some time, and when I did get them about a month afterwards I gave them all away. I know who I gave them to. One was Mrs. Smith, of Arundel Square, one the landlady of Charlwood Street, and I think I gave the blouses to Miss Hall, the landlady's daughter at Churton Place."
The prisoner, in her defence on oath, maintained that she had a right to call herself Lady Muriel Wyndham Paget, that name having been given to her by Major Paget, who had made her an allowance, and paid her bills for her; that she did not falsely personate Lady Muriel Paget, as her stated relationship with the late Marquis of Anglesey, with whom Lady Page admitted she had no relation, showed; that she had got none of the goods by false pretences or fraud, but that she could not get proper accounts, nor even all the things she was charged with obtaining; and that she could not recolled all she did in consequence of having acquired a habit of taking drugs, vodka and stout, in her trouble at the loss of Prince Soltykoff, to whom she had been married, when, believing him to be dead, she was afterwards married to Prebble in the name of, not Lena, but Nina Margaret Stolterfoht to hide her identity.
GUILTY . She was proved to have been convicted on August 31st, 1901, at the Suffolk Assizes for fraud, and to be a very dangerous alventuress. Eighteen months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February, 7th, 1906.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
228. ISIDORE STEINER (32) and GEORGE ERASER (25) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously threatening a person to accuse him of an infamous crime with intent to extort and gain money from him. It was stated that there were two convictions against Fraser. STEINER— Fifteen years' penal servitude. FRASER— Ten years' penal servitude. In each case expulsion from the country to be recommended.—And
(229.) JOHN LEASEROBSKY (27) to feloniously and maliciously throwing upon Rosie Dixon nitric acid with intent to burn, disfigure and do her grievous bodily harm. Seven years' penal servitude, and expulsion from the country to be recommended [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. MORICE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
FRANK PARSONSON . I live with my parents at Cricklewood—I have known the prisoner for some two years, and walked out with her up to September last—we did not get on well together—on a Sunday in December I was rather late in meeting her—she had a little bother with me and said she would not see me again, and she did not until a month afterwards—on January 15th, as I left my business at 8 o'clock, I saw her waiting outside—I hurried away, not to notice her—she followed me—she caught up to me and spoke to me—we got to Oxford Street, where she wanted me to take a cab—I did not want to, and as it was then raining, I suggested we should have something to drink, and we would settle matters—we went—we afterwards proceeded on our way—I wanted her to go home, but she said she would follow wherever I went—I at last managed to evade her, and went home by myself—I did not hurry—I got there about 11.30 or 12 and found her there waiting for me—I remonstrated with her and wanted her to go home—she wanted me to see her home, but I refused—I raised my hand to stop a 'bus for her—I then felt a sharp instrument across my throat—I put up my hand and felt it was out, and rushed home—I had previously noticed her fumbling with her dress, but attached no importance to it at the time—I went to a doctor and had the wound attended to.
Cross-examined. During the two years she has known me I think she has shown herself greatly attached to me—I should describe it as an infatuation—I have written her a great number of letters—my mother did not approve of my relations with the prisoner any more than I did—my letters were got back through my mother's instrumentality—during the two years I have had occasional tiffs with the prisoner, nothing more—I have heard that she has relatives in Ireland.
By the COURT. I had an understanding with the prisoner as to marrying her; I should not call it a proper engagement; I gave her no ring—I had suggested that she should marry me—I should think she was an impatient girl with a hasty temper—I thought she was rather an illiterate kind of girl and no companion for me, and I got tired of her.
ARTHUR JOHN DALTON . I am a Doctor of Medicine at Cricklewood—about 12.30 a.m. on January 16th the prosecutor was brought to me—he had a cut across his throat from two and three-quarters to three inches long, and he had lost a good deal of blood, but there were no large arteries severed—it was three-quarters of an inch deep—I disinfected the wound and sewed it up—he is now entirely out of danger—he was able to attend the Police Court on January 18th.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been in my employment—before that she was about two years with a Mrs. Hay wood—she had a very good character; she left because she could not cook sufficiently—I knew then that she had not long come over from Ireland.
MARTHA ELLINGWORTH . I am the wife of Thomas Ellingworth and live at Harlesden—the prisoner was in my employ for four months—on January 15th she was under notice to leave, as we required a younger girl—she went out that evening at 6.30 and came back about 12.45—I asked her where she had been—she said, "That fellow nearly killed me"—she did not answer my question—she was very excited and said she would go away to Ireland the next day—this razor is my husband's—it was kept in the bath room in a leather case—the prisoner would be able to get at it—she was arrested about 3 a.m. on January 16th.
Cross-examined. I knew she was keeping company with the prosecutor—she appeared very much attached to him—she was a steady wellbehaved girl—I think she came from Ireland.
ARTHUR TRITTON (Detective-Sergeant X.) At 2.30 a.m. on January 16th I went to the last witness's residence with Detective Chichester—I saw the prisoner; she was in bed and asleep—when awakened I told her that we were police officers, and that I was going to take her into custody for cutting her sweetheart's throat with a razor some time that night—I told her to be very careful not to say anything, as if she did I should take it down and use it in evidence—she said, "He has been very wicked to me. He has struck me. I meant to kill him and then myself, but after I used the razor I got frightened and came home. He knocked the razor out of my hand into the road. His mother turned him against me. I have a great passion for him"—afterwards she said, "His mother got his letters from me so that I should have no claim"—when charged she said, "I did not intend to kill him; I did not intend to murder him I cut my right finger with the razor."
Cross-examined. My note was made very soon after her arrest—when the charge was read over she was very hysterical—she bears a very excellent character—she is impatient, and has Irish blood.
GEORGE CHICHESTER (Detective X.) I went with the last witness to arrest the prisoner—I found this razor at 3.30 a.m. on the 16th, opposite the prosecutor's house, in the middle of the road—I took it to the police station—the prisoner said, "That is the razor that I done it with."
Cross-examined. I showed her the razor and asked her if that was the one, and she said, "I believe it is."
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Discharged on her own recognisances in £10 on her consenting to go to a home for two years.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 7th, 1906.
Before Mr. Justice Sutton.
HENRY GLASS (538 N.) I produce a plan of 37, Sixth Avenue, Bush Hill Park, Enfield—it is made by me and is correct and drawn to scale—it shows that the front room opens out of the kitchen—there is a cupboard on each side of the fireplace in the front room.
CORNELIUS COSGRIFF . The prisoner is my father—I am seventeen years old and am employed as an engine cleaner—on December 24th I was living at home with my parents—I have three brothers and four sisters—my younger brother, Daniel, was living in the house at this time—my eldest brother, Eugene, was not living at home—before December 24th my father and mother did not seem to me to be on very friendly terms—my mother was a sober woman, but my father was not sober, and when he got drunk it used to cause trouble between them; I have heard him use very bad language to her—he often said he would do for her—before December 24th he had been working at a nursery, and before that he had been working as a scaffolder—I should think at this time he had been working in the nursery about three months, and he worked as a scaffolder two years ago—when he worked as a scaffolder he always took this hammer (Produced) to work with him—I have not seen him use it during the last two years—between the time he was a scaffolder and when he worked at the nursery he was getting about on all sorts of jobs—on Sunday, December 24th, about 9.30 a.m., I came downstairs and found mother getting breakfast for the children—father and she were not saying anything to each other, but they seemed very disagreeable—when I was in bed before I came down I thought I heard sounds of quarrelling—I had my breakfast and went to church, leaving the house at about 10.30 a.m.—I think Daniel left just before me—I got home about 1.45 p.m. and found my mother and father both in the kitchen—they were not having dinner; mother seemed to be tidying the place up a little—she got dinner ready for us and had it with us; father had had his dinner—mother asked him to get up for a minute so that she could move the table, and he said, "I suppose I cannot have this mouthful in peace now; I must get out of the way," or something like that; he appeared very angry—he then finished his dinner and went out into the back yard—he stayed there a few minutes, came in again, and said he had some friends in the Salisbury Arms he wanted to see—he put on his coat and went out—he came back about 2.45 p.m., mother and I being in the kitchen; she was sweeping up the kitchen hob—father got a chair and sat down by the fireplace—mother got a pail of water and a swab and started washing the hearth up—she said something to father about moving his foot a minute because it was in the way, and he very angrily said, "I suppose I must get out of the way
All right, I have got a job to go to to-morrow"—he got up and went to the cupboard on the left side of the fireplace in the front room—there is a door opening out of the kitchen into the front room, and I could see the cupboard from where I was sitting in the kitchen—he got his hammer out of it and came back through the kitchen into the scullery—he there got a stone and rubbed it on the axe end of the hammer (Indicating on a scaffolder's hammer)—mother was still washing the hearth up—he was in the scullery for a good twenty minutes, and he kept saving something to her and she kept answering him from the kitchen to the scullery—I cannot remember the words; they were quarrelling—mother finished the hearth and sat down on a chair by the fireplace; she said, "Let it drop at that," and said no more to him, but he still kept on saying something—after she had sat down he came in several times and flourished the hammer over her head—he still kept talking angrily to her, but mother kept quiet the whole time—I do not remember the exact words—I think he came in four or five times flourishing the hammer—I did nothing—he went back into the scullery again and commenced sharpening the hammer—mother was still sitting on the chair, when father rushed in and struck her twice with the hammer on the side of her head—the second blow came very quickly after the first; they almost seemed like one blow—as he struck her he said, "I would sooner die than put up with this"—he held the hammer with both hands and came front ways towards her—when he struck her he was just at the side of her—she was sitting almost facing the wash house on the left-hand side of the fireplace—he must have taken a step sideways to get to the side of her—I was sitting in the corner of the kitchen and could not see; he was standing in the way—I saw him just at her side and then strike her—I rushed towards him and with the assistance of Daniel, who had been standing beside her, pushed him into the front room—he had still got the hammer in his hand; he had it lifted over his head and struggled to get back to her—when we got him in the corner of the front room he seemed to drop it near the cupboard where he got it from—he then went back to the kitchen—mother was lying on the floor with a pool of blood round her head—father got a bowl of water and a rag and wiped the blood up off the floor—I did not hear him say anything—I sent Daniel to fetch Dr. Shaw—he came back shortly afterwards without him—he fetched Mrs. Muttitt, who, when she came, said to father, "You must have a doctor. Go and fetch Dr. Morrow"—he said, "I will fetch him myself," and went out—I did not see him come back, as I had gone to my brother's place—when Daniel went for Dr. Shaw father kept saying, "It was only a tap"—I went to fetch my brother Eugene—mother had generally been in good health; she seemed to be quite strong—on this day father seemed to be sober, and so was mother—mother had not been nagging him; she never answered unless he prompted her and made her answer; it was him nagging her all day.
Cross-examined. I think this hammer had been lying idle for two years; I never saw father take it out since he was out of scaffolding—he did not seen to be cleaning it; he seemed to be sharpening it—the stone
he was using was wet—he did not say what the job was he was hoping to get; he said nothing about the accident at Charing Cross station—when he returned from the public-house he did hot seem excited at all, nor was he the worse for drink—when he was sharpening the hammer he kept either muttering to himself or shouting at mother, and he did the same when he came in flourishing the hammer—he did not swing the hammer about when he rushed in and struck her—the minute after he struck her he went to strike at her again; he did not throw the hammer away immediately afterwards—he helped Mrs. Muttitt to lift mother on a chair afterwards.
Re-examined. This is the stone which he used (Produced); it was ordinarily used for sharpening table knives—he always wetted it when he sharpened anything with it—only father used it—when he flourished the hammer he used one hand, but when he struck he used both, holding it with one hand near the top—when father wiped up the blood no one did anything for mother until Mrs. Muttitt came five minutes afterwards; she was the first to do anything to help her.
DANIEL COSGRIFF . I am thirteen years old—the prisoner is my father, and I lived with him at 37, Sixth Avenue, Bush Hill Park—I was at home on Sunday, December 24th—I went with my brother, Cornelius, to church in the morning, coming back somewhere about 1 p.m.—I came back before Cornelius—shortly after my return father came into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and began his dinner—the table was up against the wall and mother went to pull it out from the wall while father was having his dinner—he said, "I suppose I must get up from this mouthful"—he seemed to be disagreeable—the table was not pulled out; she left it where it was—father told me to come and stand beside him and have dinner—after he had finished he went out into the back garden and I went upstairs—I was up there fifteen minutes and I came down again—mother was just leaving the hearth and father was in the wash-house—while I was upstairs I heard them quarrelling; that is why I came downstairs—father had this hammer is his right hand and this stone in his left (Produced)—he was rubbing the hammer with the stone; I cannot say whether he was sharpening it or cleaning it; he was rubbing all over the hammer—I saw him through the kitchen door—mother was sitting on the left-hand side of the fireplace in the kitchen—father then came into the kitchen, swinging the hammer loosely by his side with one hand, holding it by the handle—he walked round the kitchen and said, "I would rather die than put up with this"—mother, who was still sitting by the fire, said, "Let it drop at that"—she also said, "If you don't put that hammer away I will go to the Salisbury public-house and fetch a policeman"—she said that the first time he came in—he said, "Thank God for it"—he was taking loud breaths through his nose—he went back into the scullery and started rubbing the hammer again with the stone—he rushed in, taking the distance between the scullery and the fireplace in about two steps—he then struck her two blows upon the head with the hammer, saying, "Shut your mouth"—he held the hammer with his two hands and hit her anyhow over the head; I cannot say what part of the hammer struck her—he had come in
before this about three times, swinging the hammer—he came in twice and then on the third time he came in and struck her—the second blow was quickly given after the first—I do not think many words passed between them before the blow was struck—when he hit her Cornelius and I went for him and pushed him into the front room—we tried to get him outside, but we could not, but when we got him to the corner where the cupboard was he seemed to realise what he had done and threw the hammer into the cupboard and rushed back into the kitchen—he stood looking at mother and said, "Cheer up, Johannah; I didn't mean it"—she was then lying on the floor, and blood was coming from her head—he went out into the scullery and got a pail of water and a flannel and came back and wiped up some of the blood—Mrs. Muttitt had come in by that time and he lifted mother with her aid on to the chair—previously to this he did not wipe any blood from her—I fetched Mrs. Muttitt—as soon as he had done this Cornelius told me to fetch Dr. Shaw, but I found he was not in—when mother was put on to the chair father wiped some blood from her face—she put up her hands and I said, "Go away; she doesn't want you to touch her"—Mrs. Muttitt said, "Go and fetch a doctor"—I do not know what father said, but he ran out at once to fetch Dr. Morrow and afterwards came back with him—I gave the hammer which had been thrown into the cupboard to the constable.
AMILIA MANNING . I am the wife of Frederick Charles Manning, of 35, Sixth Avenue, which is next door to the Cosgriff's—I can hear through my wall sounds from their house—about 130 p.m. on December 24th I saw the prisoner going in the direction of the Salisbury Arms and he said "Good-morning" to me—between 3 and 4 p.m. I was in my scullery, when I heard sounds of quarrelling coming from their house—I heard the prisoner say, "Shut up or I will do for you," and Mrs. Cosgriff said, "You would, you dirty old villain," and then very soon after I heard something fall—I did not hear anything more said—I thought by the sound that it was her falling.
CATHERINE MUTTITT . I live at 39, Sixth Avenue, Bush Hill Park, which is next door to the prisoner's—I was at home on the afternoon of December 24th, when Daniel fetched me to his house—I went to the kitchen, where I saw Mrs. Cosgriff lying on the floor with her head lying in a pool of blood; she was apparently unconscious—the prisoner began to wipe the blood up and I said to him, "Man, what have you done?"—he said, "Missus, I didn't mean to do it"; he repeated those words twice—I said, "You had no right to do this," and I asked him to help me raise her on to a chair, and he did so—he did not say anything to me as to what had happened—I said, "You had better fetch a doctor," and it was his wish that Dr. Shaw should be fetched—Daniel went for him, but he was out—when he came back I said, "You must have a doctor; you had better send for Dr. Morrow"—the prisoner went for him himself and returned very shortly, the doctor following him—when he told me he did not mean to do it, I heard him say, I do not know to whom, "It was only a tap; I only gave her a slight tap."
and am the prisoner's eldest son—I am married—I was generally in the habit of going to see my father and mother every week end for an hour or something of that sort—on December 24th my brother, Cornelius, came to fetch me and I went to my parents' house, where I found Dr. Morrow attending my mother—I asked the prisoner what he had been doing and he said, "Oh, it is nothing," or something to that effect—I am not sure whether he said anything else; I did not take particular notice of what he said; he was mumbling something in an agitated manner—I sent my brother for the police.
STEPHEN BARRATT (343 Y.) About 4 p.m. on December 24th I went to 37, Sixth Avenue—I saw the prisoner and asked him what he had done—he replied, "The hammer slipped; I did not do it for the purpose"—I asked Daniel for the hammer, which he fetched and gave to me—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody on the charge of assaulting his wife with this hammer and he would have to go to the station with me—he replied, "I shall not leave this house until that woman," nodding towards the deceased, "charges me"—he made some resistance and he was forced from the house—Godfrey was with me—I then took him to the police station—he went very quietly after we left the house—on the way he said, "It is not much. I would not hurt a hair on her head. She kept on nag, nag, nag."
GEORGE MOORE . I am the foreman to Messrs. Low, nurserymen, at Bush Hill Park—about the second week in October last the prisoner came to work as a labourer—he would be paid on Saturday, December 23rd, but I did not pay him myself; I was down in the country—he was expected back to work again on December 27th, the day after Boxing Day, and he did not come.
Cross-examined. He made good time whilst he was in our employ—I cannot say whether he was there every day—sometimes the labourers did not torn up till 9 o'clock and sometimes they did not turn up at all—I do not think it is possible that the prisoner might have been at other jobs as well while he was with us—he was a daily labourer, with no notice, and paid 20s. a week—he did not earn 20s. a week regularly—of course I paid him every Saturday what was due to him, week by week, except the last week.
Re-examined. He had no use whatever for a hammer of this description in our employment.
RINGER MORROW . I am a registered medical practitioner at Bush Hill Park—on Sunday, December 24th, about 4.15 p.m., the prisoner came to my house and asked me to go to his house to attend to a cut on his wife's head—I asked him if the cut were a bad one and he said it was not—I then asked him, if the cut were not a bad one, could his wife not come to the surgery and have the wound dressed there—he said she would not come—I asked him how she got the cut and he said she had been getting on to him in the afternoon and he had been cleaning a tool
for his work and gave her a tap on the head with it—I asked him if he had been drinking and he said only a glass or two of beer—he went away and I followed him to his kitchen, where Mrs. Cosgriff was—it was a bed light and a dark room—I asked for a light and the prisoner lit a small lamp—I examined Mrs. Cosgriffs wounds and found a wound on the right-hand side of her head, almost at the top—I cleaned, dressed, stitched and bandaged it up—the next day I went back to have a better look at it in the daylight—I removed the dressings and found a considerable quantity of clotted blood on the left side of the head about three inches from the first wound on the other side of the head; it was further forward over the frontal bone—I washed the clots away and found a wound, which I dressed temporarily—I examined her skull and found two small pieces of broken bone at the bottom of the wound on the left side—I advised that she should be taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. The first wound went down through the scalp; it was between a quarter and half an inch deep, and the second wound was about the same depth, rather deeper, perhaps, about half an inch—this hammer has a sharp blade and is very heavy—a blow struck with this sharp edge on the head would crush through into the brain; it would almost cut the head in two and certainly cause instant death if it entered the brain any distance—if struck with violence it would go several inches—a hard blow from this blunt end struck with two hands would probably crush the skull in considerably, and might cause instant death.
Re-examined. The wounds could have been caused by the blunt end or the edge of the axe where the haft enters it—I did not examine the skull afterwards—an examination of the skull would throw light upon the degree of the force used—from the external appearance of the skull I should not say that great force was used.
EDWARD COOPER MAY , F.R.C.S. I am senior surgeon at the Tottenham hospital—Mrs. Cosgriff was admitted there on December 25th, about 4 p.m.—I saw her about 5 p.m.—I examined her—she was conscious and did not complain of any pain, but she was sick once—on examining her skull I found two rather small wounds, one on the left side near the forehead and the other on the right side a little further back—in each of them the bone was depressed—in my opinion an operation was necessary, and I performed the operation of trephining about 6 p.m.—she lost a great deal of blood from one of the wounds, which made her very low at the time, but she soon rallied, and by the next day she was going on satisfactorily—we felt no anxiety about her till December 31st, when she was decidedly worse—she died on the early morning of January 9th—from my examination of the skull I do not think any great violence had been used to cause the wounds—this hammer is extremely heavy—the violence of the blow would depend very much on the way it was held—if it was held with one hand at each end, as one of the witnesses showed, it would require more of a blow, but if it was held away from the head the weight of the hammer would have been sufficient to have caused the wounds—I do not think they could have been caused so readily
by the sharp end; I came to the conclusion myself that it was done with the edge of the blunt end.
[MR. WARBURTON submitted on the medical evidence that it was dear that there had been no intention to kill, but that he could not resist a verdict of manslaughter. MR. MUIR, for the Prosecution, stated that he would invite the Jury to come to that conclusion, as if the prisoner had really intended to have done a serious injury he would have used more violence, and death would have probably ensued at once. The learned Judge, in addressing the Jury, stated that from the evidence, that was the impression left on his mind, and they would be perfectly justified in returning a verdict of manslaughter.]
GUILTY of manslaughter. Fifteen months' hard labour.
MR. HENDERSON Prosecuted; MR. BOHN Defended.
ALFRED BROOKS . I live at 15, Sunbury Buildings, Arnold Circus—the prisoner lives at Room No. 12—on January 6th a child came knocking at my door and said, "Mr. Barber's room is on fire"—I ran along the passage and entered his room, which is on the same landing as mine—I picked the table up to smother the flames, and in doing so the two legs of the table came adrift—I then proceeded to pick the table up by the top part and smother the flames with that—the flames were coming from some clothes on the floor in the centre of the room—the prisoner was standing by a chest of drawers—he did nothing in my presence to put out the flames, but asked me what I wanted to interfere for—it was then that I picked up the table and smothered the flame—other people brought water in—I turned off the gas stove, which was alight—the fire was put out—in the grate there was a burnt piece of tapestry, which had come off the mantelshelf—there was no coal or coke fire in the grate at all.
Cross-examined. The piece of tapestry was partly alight when I was in the room, which is, I daresay, 14 or 15 feet long by 8 or 9 feet wide—the tapestry was quite apart from the mantelshelf when I came in—the table was turned upside down—the pile of clothes was about 3 feet or 4 feet away from the piece of tapestry—the prisoner looked rather more dazed than anything else.
Re-examined. The clothes were alight and the table on top.
JOHN WESTHROP . I am the officer in charge of the Fire Brigade at Tabernacle Street—at 10.23 p.m. we received a call to Sunbury Buildings and I went in charge of the men—at No. 12 I found some articles of furniture, a table and a chair—two drawers were taken out of the chest of drawers, broken up and laid on the floor in front of the fireplace; they had been on fire—there were some ashes on the top of the kitchener—I did not see any clothes on the floor—the fire was extinguished previous, to my arrival—I asked the prisoner who was there what was the cause of the fire, but he did not answer me; in fact, I could get nothing out of him at all; I had to go to his wife for particulars—I did not notice
any ashes or coal in the fireplace—I took a rough sketch of the room, which is a small one.
Cross-examined. The floor of the building and the building was quite intact—a piece of tapestry detached from the mantelpiece was burning in front of the fire—the prisoner appeared dazed—I had been there ten minutes before I asked him the cause of the fire.
By the COURT. The estimated damage I returned at £3.
JAMES RICHARDSON (Sergeant 5 H. R.) On January 6th I went to No. 12, Sunbury Buildings, about 10.20 p.m.—I saw the prisoner—directly I entered the room he walked up to me and said, "I set fire to them. I have a right to bum them if I like; they are my things in my own house. I gave the caretaker notice that I was going out on Saturday. I was getting rid of my things when somebody came"—I told him I should take him into custody, but he made no reply—when charged with setting fire to the dwelling house he said, "Who told you that is a liar"—he was drunk all the time.
Cross-examined. When I arrived first he appeared dazed, in a drunken condition—I cannot say he was worse at the station—the goods are his own.
Re-examined. It is a very large building; there are forty tenements in the block.
By the JURY. The furniture is not insured.
Evidence for the Defence.
PHILIP WELLS . I have known the prisoner for fifteen years as a steady industrous man of good character—I have never known him do any malicious acts in the way of setting fire to furniture—he has been in his present employment fifteen years and before that he was with Sir Joseph Causton & Sons; I believe those are the only two places he has been in.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 7th, 1906.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
(The evidence was interpreted where necessary.)
ESTHER LIBOVITCH . I am the wife of Simon Libovitch, a tailor, of 53, Broad Street, Golden Square, W.—the prisoner came to the workshop on January 12th—I said to him, "You had better leave, because there is no work for you"—he followed me into the kitchen and asked me, "Is it true there is no work for me?"—I said nothing else—he soon afterwards stabbed me in the right side, both arms, and in the back—I did not see what he did it with until afterwards, when the scissors were taken from him—I went out of the kitchen, crying, and he followed me and stabbed me again in the arm.
Cross-examined. When he stabbed me the last time I was in the kitchen—I did not quarrel with him nor strike him, nor have I under similar circumstances struck other workmen.
SAMUEL COHEN . I live at 107, Cleveland Street West, and work for Simon Libovitch—on January 12th the prisoner came at 9.30 a.m. and asked Mr. Libovitch if there was any work—he said, "You have come too late. You ought to have come at 8. As it was a special I intend to do it myself. I shall go to the shop and may fetch some work"—he then left—Mrs. Libovitch then came in and said to the prisoner, "We are very slack now; it would be better for you to look after another place. We have not enough work for ourselves"—the prisoner then took his pair of shears from the table, put them in his pocket, went into the kitchen, and all of a sudden I heard screams—Mrs. Libovitch ran into the kitchen, screaming "Murder!" the prisoner following her—I tried to stop him and he stabbed her three times with the shears—Police Constable Garrod then took him into custody.
Cross-examined. I did not see him stab her—there is a second room between the kitchen and the workshop—I told Garrod that he stabbed her in the workshop—I have not spoken to anybody about this case—I know Johnson, a tailor; he lives upstairs and sometimes comes into the work-shop—I told him that the prisoner stabbed the prosecutrix in the workshop in my presence—I have never known the prosecutrix knock about any of the smaller workmen.
HENRY GARROD . On January 12th I was on duty in Broad Street—hearing a police whistle I ran in the direction of No. 53, where I saw the prisoner detained by the last witness—the prosecutrix was standing in the passage, bleeding from a wound in the left arm, and I was told in the prisoner's presence that he had stabbed her with a pair of shears, which were handed to me (Produced)—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for stabbing—he made no reply—when charged at the station he made no reply.
Cross-examined. The prisoner appeared to understand English—he gave me his name and address in broken English.
PERCY JAMES EDMUNDS . I live at 5, Great Marlborough Street, and am Divisional Surgeon—I attended the prosecutrix on January 12th—she was suffering from three definite wounds, four lacerations or superficial wounds, and there was also one small abrasion—one wound, 2 1/2 inches long and 3/4 inch deep, was about 3 inches above the left elbow on the outer side of the left arm—another was 1 inch long and about 1/3 inch deep, 6 inches below the right shoulder—both those were straight and clean cut—there was a punctured wound 1/2 inch long, and 1/2 inch deep in the axilla over the ninth right rib—that only apparently escaped going into the lung because the rib stopped the weapon—surgically speaking it was a dangerous place—there was a laceration 1/2 inch long, 3 inches below the left shoulder on the outside of the arm, a small superficial puncture 3 inches below the right shoulder, a laceration 1 1/2 inches long above the right elbow, and there was a small puncture over the left shoulder blade behind—there was a slight abrasion on the left side of the vertibral
column in the back—those wounds might have been caused by the shears produced—the scissors might have been partly open—there must have been four blows struck—there were holes through the garments corresponding to the wounds—none of the wounds are dangerous.
Cross-examined. Four of the wounds were of the nature of deep scratches—the two long wounds were in my opinion done with the open scissors by the cutting edge—the punctured wound suggests that the scissors were closed—I examined the prosecutrix at 11 a.m.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that when he went to the workshop Libovitch said, "If you had come at 8 o'clock you would have found work by now, but as you have come too late you will have to wait over an hour"; that the prosecutrix came in and said, "Simon, you must not employ him, because work is slack"; that Libovitch then went out to another shop; that later on the prosecutrix came into the workshop and said to the prisoner, "Take your shears; I will not allow you to work here," and immediately went into the kitchen; that he put his scissors in his pocket, went into the kitchen and asked her if she meant seriously to sack him; that she replied, "Yes"; that later on he asked her what he had done and said, "Simon gives me work and you will not let him"; that she made no reply, but started shouting, "Go out of my house," and then took him to throw him out; that he was mixed up, puzzled and had lost his memory, and, being without sense he struck her with the scissors because she quarrelled with him; that he wanted to leave the kitchen and go up the staircase into the middle room and the prosecutrix pushed him and he fell on the steps; that he stood up and she struggled with him, caught him by the body, and pushed him forward; that he did not remember whether he took his shears out of his pocket or if they had fallen out of his pocket; that he defended himself with the shears; that he did not recollect how it happened, but did not want to wound her; that he did not run after her and stub her behind; and did not understand the constable when he spoke to him.
GUILTY of feloniously wounding. Twelve months' hard labour.
HOSEGOOD PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Kerner.
JAMES ALEXANDER HOSEGOOD (The prisoner). I have been for fifteen years in the employ of C. & J. Weldon, of 130, Cheapside—for the past twelve months I have been first salesman in the silk twist department—I have known Kerner about two years through a friend of mine in the City, who used to do business with his brother—his brother is a tailor's trimming merchant at 81, Berwick Street, Oxford Street, on his own account—I have disposed of silk to the prisoner from early in 1905—I took silk from Messrs. Weldon's premises, sent it to my home by a carrier, then took it to a cloak room and then wrote to "Mr. Kerner," the prisoner's brother, making an appointment to meet him—the prisoner would meet me cutside the Tube station in Newgate Street and I would give him the ticket in
return for money—the first time I said, "I have silk for sale; are you open to buy?" he said, "Yes, I will give you 8s. a lb. for it"—I accepted that and told him I had 5 lbs. and that I had left it in the Ludgate Hill cloak room—he said, "Here is the money; I will give you 8s. a lb. for it"—he accepted my statement and paid me there and then and I gave him the ticket—on subsequent occasions I have sold him from 2 to 5 lbs.—I got it out of the firm's premises generally by sending it by a carrier to my home, but sometimes I have sent it by one of Messrs. Weldon's porters to the Post Office Tube station—I never directed the letters to Noah Kerner, but only to "Mr. Kerner" at 81, Berwick Street—I have disposed of about twelve parcels of silk in that way during the last twelve months—I have handed the ticket to the prisoner's brother on about two occasions—no bill or receipt were ever given—on December 30th, 1905, I sent a parcel of 5 lbs. of silk by carrier to my home and took it to Ludgate Hill cloak room on the following Tuesday morning—I wrote to "Mr. Kerner" to meet me at 5.30 opposite the Tube station in Newgate Street that night, and the prisoner met me—I told him I had 5 lbs. of silk for sale, and that it was all right—he paid me £2; I gave him the ticket and he left—I invariably met him outside the Tube station in Newgate Street alone—my firm made inquiries of me and I wrote a letter of confession on January 9th and was taken into custody on the 10th—on the 9th I met the prisoner in St. Paul's Churchyard and he told me he had been arrested with silk in his possession and was out on £20 bail—I have not seen him since—I never mentioned Cannon Street station to him, nor was that the station I ever used for putting the goods in—I was committed for trial and I have pleaded guilty to this offence.
Cross-examined. On January 10th, when I was arrested, I made a statement that I left the silk at Ludgate Hill cloak room on the Monday—that was true as far as I could remember at the time—I have heard that the prisoner is eighteen years of age and is employed by his father at a restaurant, but I did not know it then—I thought he was assisting his brother—I was not with the prisoner when he was arrested—I started in Messrs. Weldon's employment as a young lad, have been promoted, and was receiving £10 a month as first salesman—I was in a position of trust—I have been robbing them since the early part of 1905—it was a lie when I told them I had only robbed them once—I do not say I negotiated the sale of this stolen property with this young lad—I wrote to his brother, and his brother sent him—all my dealings with the prisoner were that he received the cloak room ticket and handed me money, on every occasion except two, when I saw his brother—the bargain or the nature of the transaction was not discussed with the prisoner—I was introduced to his brother by a friend of mine—the introduction was not an ordinary introduction; he was pointed out to me as being a buyer—I wrote to him and he sent the prisoner down—I told the prisoner on each occasion the quantity the cloak room ticket provided, and he gave me the amount of money on the scale which I had arranged with his brother.
Re-examined. Before the first occasion I met the prisoner—I had been
outside his brother's shop, but not inside—I had not spoken to the prisoner or his brother until the early part of 1905, when I wrote.
HERBERT HINE (Detective-Sergeant, City). About half-past 5 on January 3rd I was in Newgate Street—I noticed the prisoner Kerner and another man about the same age, not in custody, loitering about and acting suspiciously—they were about twenty yards from the General Post Office Tube station—the prisoner left the other man three times and rejoined him again; then the prisoner went into the Tube station and returned with a parcel like the one produced—they walked down Warwick Lane towards Ludgate Hill—I followed them up with the intention of stopping them—the other man apparently saw me and ran away—I stopped the prisoner and said, "I am a police officer; what have you got in that parcel?"—he said, "I do not know"—I said, "Who gave it you?"—he said, "A man gave it me"—I said, "What did he tell you to do with it?"—he said, "He told me to take it to Cannon Street"—I said, "What part of Cannon Street?"—he said, "Cannon Street station or any other station"—I said, "Well, how are you to know where to meet him, then?"—he said, "Well, he told me to take it away, put it down anywhere"—I said, "I shall take you to Snow Hill police station, where you will be charged with the unlawful possession of it"—at the station I opened the parcel and found it contained silk sewings, about 5 lbs. in weight—he there repeated the statement that a man told him to take it away and put it down anywhere—he was taken to the Guildhall Police Court and remanded until January 12th, when in consequence of Hosegood's arrest he was charged with him at the Mansion House for stealing and receiving the property.
Cross-examined. The prisoner gave his address as 28, Berwick Street, Oxford Street, a restaurant kept by his father—I have ascerta ned that he has been working there as a waiter—has father has been there some seven years, and the prisoner has been here since he was seven, and hat had a board school education—so far as I know, he has borne the character of a decent and well-behaved lad—the man with him was a stranger to me; it was not his brother—his brother carries on business at 81, Berwick Street—he was bail for the prisoner—I took the prisoner on the Wednesday evening—I gave the conversation from memory; I did not take notes—he seemed startled when I seized him—I am quite certain he said, "The man gave it to me and told me to put it down anywhere"—whether that is reasonable or not, that is what he said.
WILLIE JORDAN . I am a member of the firm of C. & J. Weldon, of 130, Cheapside, tailors' trimming warehousemen—Hosegood was first salesman in the sewing silk department—we keep sewing silk manufactured by George Hill, of Leek, Staffs, of which business Mr. Edwards is the proprietor—this (Produced), is a 5-lb. parcel of "Special Raven Sewings" from that firm—such silk was kept in a cupboard to which Hosegood would have access—the parcel is worth about £6 5s.
Cross-examined. We keep a great quantity of this sewing silk—we keep an accurate account of it—we have not gone into it to find out how long we have been robbed, and I cannot say from the accounts—we have not thought it necessary to examine into that.
ALFRED ERNEST BURGESS . I have been porter with C. & J. Weldon for about seven years—I have, at Hosegood's request, taken parcels to the Tube station and handed them in at the office, got a ticket and taken it to him—I have taken about four parcels in that way—the first was about six months ago—Bean & Co. are the carriers for the firm—I have given parcels to them at Hosegood's request—it is, I believe, an understood thing that the employes in the firm can get Bean & Co. to take their own parcels if necessary—I have delivered to the carriers about six to ten parcels addressed to Hosegood's home, 43, Cambria Road, Loughborough Junction—the first of those was after I took parcels to the Tube station—I did not address those I took to the Tube station—I would be the packer to whom Hosegood would come, because my particular work is the despatch of town parcels.
Evidence for the Defence.
REUBEN KERNER . I am the prisoner's father and carry on business as a restaurant keeper at 28, Berwick Street—my son has lived with me since he was born and has worked with me at my business—he has always borne the character of a steady and trustworthy lad.
Cross-examined. My other son carries on the business of a tailors trimming dealer in Berwick Street—the prisoner does not assist him in that business—he is always daily in my service—if I send him on an errand he goes—on January 3rd I sent him to the City to buy some fish—he did not bring it back—I never saw any stuff like that—he never brought any parcel back to me—I send the prisoner to Petticoat Lane for grocery—I send there for everything—I cannot say what he would be doing in Newgate Street.
GODFREY PURCELL . I live at 13, Marshall Street, Golden Square—I have known the prisoner since the first day Mr. Kerner opened his restaurant, about seven yean ago, as a respectable and honest young man.
GUILTY . KERNER— Six month's hard labour.
HOSEGOOD— Twelve months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 8th, 1906.
Before Mr. Justice Sutton.
MR. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
236. ANNIE PEARSON (43) and JEANNIE PEARSON (26) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a transfer of £1,544 15s. in India 3 per cent. stock, transferable at the Bank of England, purporting to be made on behalf of Marian May Pearson. JEANNIE PEARSON also to feloniously personating Marian May Pearson and thereby transferring £1,544 15s. India 3 per cent. stock standing in the books of the Bank of Eng land in the name of Marian May Pearson, and ANNIE PEARSON to feloniously aiding and abetting her in that felony. ANNIE PEARSON— Three years' penal servitude. JEANNIE PEARSON— Three months' imprisonment.
MR. FORDHAM Prosecuted.
LOUISA ELLEN THOMAS . I am single and live with my father and mother at 68, Robert Street, Hampstead, and am seventeen years old—I have known the prisoner for just over two years, and in 1904 I had a child by him, and once or twice since he has been intimate with me—on December 29th, 1905, I went to the theatre with Ted Harvey, who is my young man I am walking out with now—on that day I left him about 11.30 or 11.45 p.m.—I had not seen the prisoner at all that evening—after leaving Harvey I went to bed in a room where I sleep alone—I was roused during the night; I think it was about 1.30—my attention was first attracted by seeing the window being pushed up by the prisoner—after he had opened it he came in through the window and crawled on his hands and knees to the bedside—he did not speak before he got to the bed, but when he got there he called me by name, "Louie"—I said, "What do you want?"—he asked me what did the young man mean by saying he would knock the top of his hat in—I said I did not know what he meant—I knew he meant Harvey by the young man—he said, "Will you come away with me this minute?" and I said, "No, I will not"—he said, "I will help you to get your things out and I have sold my business and have got £15 in my pocket"—I said I would not go—he said, "If you do not have me you will have nobody else"—I could see his form in the dark, but I could not see his face—when I said I would not go with him he said, "You won't?" and seized me by the throat, I think with his left hand—I turned over on my left side and screamed out—I next felt something sharp go across my throat, and I put my right hand up to my neck and my fingers got cut—I was also cut on my left side and had a slight scratch on my right shoulder—I had not seen anything in his hand—the wound on my left shoulder was very deep—my father and mother came in just as the prisoner was going out by the window—he did not say anything more before he went through the window—about two months before Christmas I had stayed with him at 77, Graham Street, but I cannot remember anything that he said to me then.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When I first went away with you I told you I was eighteen—when you came into my room on this night you did not ask if I was going away with you or the other fellow—I went in fear of you, but I spoke to you on December 23rd because you came to the shop where I was working—we went away together for a week in August; we have not been away together since, but I have seen you—I did not say I was going to Bedford with the other young man.
By the COURT. I was in fear of the prisoner because he threatened me several times.
into trouble—on the night of December 29th I heard my daughter scream twice between 1 and 2 a.m.—I and my husband went into the room and found her standing up—a candle was quickly lit and I saw a streak of blood from her neck—the window was open—I only knew of the prisoner coming in by the window once before when my daughter was carrying her baby, and I asked her why he came up, and she said he had come with a paper and I said, "You must not let Daddy know or he will turn you out."
Cross-examined. You have been up there on several occasions without my knowing it, and Louie left the side door open for you, but I told her not to do it—you have not been up, to my knowledge, since the baby was born—I did not go into her room about 3 a.m. one day in August and see you in the room, and I have not got out of bed to let you in when you came in by the window.
DR. CLARK. I am house surgeon at the London Temperance Hospital, and about 2 a.m. on December 30th I saw the prosecutrix there—she was faint from loss of blood and had got a deep skin cut wound about 4 inches long on the right side of her neck from the middle line behind to about two thirds round the side of the neck close to the carotid artery, and if it had gone in as far as that it would have been fatal—it was about 2 inches deep in the deepest part, dividing the muscles—she also had a cut on her left shoulder about 2 inches long and ¼ inch deep, dividing the skin and the subcutaneous fat—she had a lacerated wound on the third finger of her right hand, cutting the last joint of the finger—there was a cut on the inner side of the middle finger and a scratch on the right arm—they were wounds such as might have been caused by this razor—considerable force must have been used.
GEORGE WALLACE (Inspector S.) On December 31st I went to 17, Hercules road, Hollo way, and saw the prisoner—I said to him, "I am a police officer"—he said, "I know that; I am very glad you have come, is I have not had any peace these last two days. I got a sovereign and was going away for a week when I should have given myself up"—I said, "I snail arrest you for attempting to murder Louisa Thomas by cutting her neck with a razor or other instrument about 1 a.m. on the 30th, at 68, Robert Street, Hampstead Road"—he said, "How is she getting on?"—I said, "She is getting better"—he said, "I am glad of that; I shall say nothing else"—I then searched the wash-house and found a jacket, which the prisoner said was his, and in the inside pocket I found this razor—he said, "That is what you are looking for," and as I was examining it he said, "You will find no blood on it," and that was so—I took him to Albany Street police station, where he was charged, but made no reply.
THOMAS GREGORY (Police-Sergeant). I found this letter on the prisoner signed "Louie" (Read): "12th, 1905. Sweet dreams for Wednesday. dear. Will, I am very sorry I did not write, as I have not been very well. The postcard you sent me is very saucy; wherever did you get it from? Will, I am going to ask you where is my Christmas box going to be. I have got some cheek, but still, never mind, I have a Christmas present for you, but not before Christmas. I must not let the young man know I am going to send you it or else he would eat his hat if he knew. It is something that
you want. Will, I am going to ask you one thing: if you can remember December 13th; that is to-day, Wednesday, at fifteen minutes past 12, I was dying. I am very pleased to think I am as well this year; I also hope you are the same and got plenty of money. I hope to see you before Christmas. I think this is all I have got to say at present, and hoping you are in the best of health, I remain, Your true friend, Louie"—I also examined 68, Robert Street, and found marks on the waterspout leading up to the girl's bedroom—it is a place where a man could climb up—on the mortar on the side of the wall there were marks, and there were finger marks on the waterspout—there were marks to indicate that a person had been up the waterspout and come down the same way.
Cross-examined. You told me that you had not left 68, Robert Street, until the next evening.
The prisoner's defence: "I am very sorry for what has happened; it was done under great provocation, and that is all I have got to say."
L. THOMAS (Re-examined). I cannot say what state the prisoner was in when he came into my room; he spoke as he always did.
GUILTY on the second count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell Sessions on April 16th, 1901. The police stated that the prisoner had been married for ten years; that at his house were found the proceeds of two burglaries at Stoke Newington and a crucible such as used by receivers of stolen property. Seven years' penal servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 8th, 1906.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
238. PHILIP POYNTING (24) and ROSE POYNTING (24) , Having I been jointly entrusted by Mary Ann Howden with a spirit decanter and £1, her goods and money, for a certain purpose, fraudulently converted the proceeds thereof to their own use and benefit. Second Count: Charged a similar offence with regard to the property of Mary Brooks.
MR. WHITELEY Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
MARY ANN HOWDEN . I live at 1, Harrison Street, and am the wife of William Howden—on November 14th last I was charged with keeping a disorderly house—I was convicted and fined £25 or two months—I did the two months—I was released from prison on January 13th—I left a decanter, which has been produced in this Court, on the sideboard in my front parlour—one of my watches I left in a tin box in my bedroom and one I was wearing at the time of my sentence, and which I handed to my sister-in-law, Mrs. Brooks, as well as a necklace and neck chain—she was then living at my house, 58, Liverpool Street, N.—I also handed to Mrs. Brooks £7 in money—a girl named Nellie Callan was living in my house—I gave no authority to anyone to pawn any of my things to pay my fine—I know the female prisoner, but not the man—I r✗ either of them authority to pawn any of my property—I gave✗ instructions as to my furniture—the property I have missed is worth £30, including a bicycle found in the prisoner's room—I asked Mrs. Brooks to look after my things for me.
Cross-examined. While I was in prison Mr. Wilson, clerk to the solicitors for my landlord, visited me—he asked me if I would authorise Rose Poynting to remove my goods from 58, Liverpool Street, and store them—he wrote out this document, which I signed (Read): "Holloway Prison. To Mrs. Rose Poynting, 6, Liverpool Street, King's Cross. I hereby authorise you to remove my goods from off the premises, No. 58, Liverpool Street, King's Cross, and to store same and further to hand the keys of the premises to Mr. F. R. Wilson, of Walker & Battiscombe, solicitors, 38, Basinghall Street. Dated 27th day of November, 1905"—the prison authorities told me they had had a letter from Rose Poynting asking whether I wanted anything done for the purpose of paying the fine, but they did not hand me the letter—they said that there was a lady who wanted to know if there was anything that could be done for me—I said, "Nothing, only pay my fine, and she is unable to do so"—they did not say who the lady was—it was the chaplain who told me that—he did not say there was a letter—I never saw this document (Produced), which is marked "L. P."—I know a Mrs. Rogers, of 247, Gray's Inn Road—I gave her authority to take possession of a bag, a tin box, all the papers in the drawers and my clothes—this authority to her was written by Mr. Wilson and signed by me—I did not tell Mr. Wilson that Rose was an old friend of mine—when I was taken away I left in the house Mrs. Brooks, Nellie Callan and my own baby—Mrs. Brooks lives at Royston, Yorkshire—after I came out of prison I learnt that after my arrest Mrs. Brooks went to Royston, taking Nellie and the baby with her, also my jewellery—when I came out of prison on January 13th I went to Mrs. Callan's house, 1, Harrison Street—on January 13th, after going to the police, I went with Detective Garrard and saw Philip Poynting, who was then arrested—I did not hear him ask the police officer to wait till Rose, who had gone to Manchester to attend her mother's funeral, came back, when she would explain everything—Mr. Wilson did tell me in prison that he had seen my baby with the Poyntings and that he looked quite well—I know that the decanter, the watches and the necklace were pawned for £3 3s.—that would not have paid my fine.
Re-examined. I have never had that money—I found a lot of my property was not stored; it was in P. Poynting's room—I never gave the prisoners permission to go into my house at all—I asked for them to be asked to have my furniture stored.
NELLIE CALLAN . I live at 1, Harrison Street, Gray's Inn Road, with my mother—on November 14th last I was living with Mary Howden—on that day she was taken to prison—on November 17th the prisoners came to 58, Liverpool Street—Mrs. Brooks was not there then; she was in Yorkshire—the prisoners said they had been authorised by Mrs. Howden to sell or pawn everything to raise the fine—I let them do as they liked on hearing that; I did not interfere—Rose Poynting took a decanter ✗board—then Philip asked me if I had any money; I said yes, ✗—he said, "You had better let me have £1 for solicitors," because, he said, he could get a loan on the house—I had £2 of Mrs. Howden's and I let him have £1—Rose gave the decanter to our servant to pledge—
the prisoners stayed in the house—the next morning they asked me where Mrs. Howden's jewellery was—I said, "Mrs. Brooks has it at Wakefield"; that is Royston—I gave them her address—the male prisoner went out and sent a wire to her to bring the jewellery back—he told me so—he signed my name to the telegram—they stayed on at the house—Mrs. Brooks came the next day, bringing a pearl necklace, two gold watches and a gold locket—the female prisoner took me with her to pawn them—she did not pawn all the things, as she could not get sufficient money—she pawned one gold watch—she afterwards sent their servant to pawn the necklace—the prisoners had the money—I do not know what happened to the other things—I did not sleep in the house while the prisoners were there.
Cross-examined. When Mrs. Howden was taken to prison there were in the house Mrs. Brooks and her two children, Mrs. Howden's baby and a young woman named Edna Edwards—Mrs. Edwards had been in prison at Holloway for a week—she took a clock away while Mrs. Brooks was in Yorkshire; also Mrs. Howden's clothes—I missed them when I came back, so I suppose she took them—she was not altogether a nice sort of person—I was about five months with Mrs. Howden—she has disappeared somewhere—before the prisoners came to the house I knew the female prisoner for about a week—I had seen her at the house, but I did not know who she was—Mrs. Howden may have known her for something like two months without my knowing it—when the prisoners came on the Friday they showed me the letter with "L. P." on it and they said the answer was on the back (Read): "Mary Howden is very anxious for you to help her by raising money to pay her fine. Any communication must be addressed to the Governor. L. P."—I introduced Mrs. Brooks to Philip and said that he was trying to raise money to pay the fine—there was a discussion as to how the money could best be got—the furniture was carried off and stored at the suggestion of the solicitor for the landlord who wanted to get possession of the house—I know that the prisoners were unable to get any advance on the furniture—the prisoners told me so—when Mrs. Howden came out of prison she knew where the prisoners were to be found; that was right opposite her house—the first thing she did was to go to the police station.
Re-examined. I knew that Mrs. Howden had authorised the prisoners to store the furniture—there was no authority from her to raise money on it—I had 5s. and 2s. 6d. given to me by Rose for the care of the child.
MARY BROOKS . I live at 74, Millgate Street, Royston, Yorkshire, and am the wife of John William Brooks—after Mrs. Howden was convicted I took her jewellery to Royston—while there I received a telegram and came back to London, bringing the jewellery with me—I gave it to Philip Poynting, as he asked me to—he said he was going to pawn them to try and make up the fine money—I handed all the jewellery to him; that is two gold watches, a gold locket, chain, and necklace—he told me that Mrs. Howden had sent a letter from Holloway to take possession of the house—when I handed the jewellery over the prisoners said I had better go home—I never saw any of the money, the proceeds of the pawning.
Cross-examined. What I know of the transaction is that they said they had been asked to raise money to pay her fine and that the jewellery was taken to the pawnbroker to get something towards it—I do not know that the man also tried to raise money on the furniture and could not—I heard him talking about trying to do so—I understood they had had a letter from Holloway—I did not see it.
The COURT stated that there was no evidence to support the charge, and directed the Jury to return a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT and
NEW COURT.—Friday and Saturday, February 9th and 10th, 1906.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
239. LEONARD DOUGLAS CAFFREY (23) , Obtaining by false pretences from Charles Havey Malim and Frederick Cox and others £30 with intent to defraud. Second Count. LEONARD DOUGLAS CAFFREY and ALGERNON GILBERT CAFFREY (20) , Receiving the said £30, well knowing it to have been obtained by false pretences. (See page 441.)
MR. SYMMONS and MR. DRUCQUER Prosecuted; MR. FRAMPTON Defended.
JOSEPH HENRY SAUNDERS . I am secretary to Princes Club, Knightsbridge, and in October last Sir Francis Astley Corbett had occasion to remit me £30—I never received this cheque (Ex. 2), and this is not my indorsement on the back—I did not authorise anybody to indorse it and I never received any letter from Sir Francis containing this cheque or an envelope containing a cheque.
SIR FRANCIS ASTLEY CORBETT . I live at 45, Cadogan Gardens, and am a member of the Guards' Club—on October 10th last I was in the smoking room of the club about 5 p.m. and remember drawing a couple of cheques—I know Leonard Caffrey as a waiter in the smoking room, but I cannot say if he was the waiter in that room on that day, because when I wrote the cheque my back was towards the waiter, and I was facing the window—I first rang the bell and sat down at the writing table, and the door opened—I looked to see if it was a waiter, but did not look at his face and I said, "Bring me Cox's cheque book"—the cheque book was brought while I was still writing—I took out a cheque, which I wrote for myself for £10, to be cashed in the club, and the waiter went away with it to cash it—the second cheque I put on the writing table in front of me, but I do not think I filled it up then, but I did fill it up for £30 to Mr. J. H. Saunders—it is an order cheque, not crossed—I always put my initials and the date on the counterfoils of cheques with the amount—I believe I did so on this occasion, and I also put "Paid" on the counterfoil, as we pay a penny for each cheque—I finished writing my letter and put the £30 cheque into the envelope and posted it in the letter box which is kept in the smoking-room—there was no one else in the room, and I then left the room and went down to the front hall, where I met three other members who asked me to come up and
play a rubber of bridge—we returned to the same room about ten minutes after I had left it; no one was in it when I came back—we called for cards, which were brought by the smoking-room waiter, and we played bridge for about an hour and a half—I think I left the club about 7 p.m.—the letter box is similar to this (Produced)—next day I left town and returned on the 16th and went to the club on the 17th in the morning—I found no acknowledgment there of my cheque to Mr. Saunden, and I left town again by the 2.22 p.m. train, returning on October 20th, when I went to the club in the afternoon—I still found no acknowledgment of my cheque and I had heard by then that Mr. Saunders had not received it—I sent for the secretary of the club and an inquiry was instituted for the counterfoils—all the counterfoils which could be found in the club were produced, but I could not find the counterfoils of these two cheques—I found one of a cheque which I had written since.
Cross-examined. I was alone in the smoking room when I rang for the waiter, and he came and handed me the cheque book—I cannot remember if that book was nearly exhausted, but it was not the first cheque in the book which I took out—I tore out the two cheque forms; the books are in fifties—the numbers of the cheques which I tore out were 582847 and 582848, so there would be two forms left in the book—I would not swear that I filled up the counterfoils, but I always do so and I always pay the waiter for the cheque forms at the time I take the cheques—when the waiter returned and brought me the change I was still writing my letter with my back to the door, and I think the other cheque was lying blank in front of me—I think I should finish my letter and then fill up the cheque—the waiter then left the room and would not know what I was going to do with the cheque—I should think it was then 5.5 or 5.10—I had nothing else to do in the smoking room besides write the letter and I should think I left the room about 5.20—I have no idea how many members would be coming in and out of the room while we were playing bridge, but the club was very empty that night at that time—I do not remember the boy coming in to clear the letter box while we were playing bridge, but I should probably have noticed him if he had.
By the COURT. I do not write my cheques before I tear them out of the book; I always tear them out first—if I am going to cash a cheque in the club I may write it in the book, but if I wanted the cheques myself I should tear them out.
WILLIAM HOLBECK . I am a lieutenant in the Guards and a member of the Guards' Club—on October 12th I was in the club and cashed a cheque there for £10—I got a £5 note in exchange for it and £5 in gold—I did not take the number of the note, but on that day I paid it to "A. Rushton," whose name is on the back of it—it is number 61200, of April 19th, 1905—the cheque was cashed in the card or smoking room.
Cross-examined. I should think it was between 6 and 7 p.m. when I cashed the cheque—I do not recollect the waiter who cashed it for me—I am fairly confident that it was a £5 note I received—I am certain I had not another note on me at that time—I cannot say if this is the note I had on that day, because I did not take the number—the person to
whom I gave it would be likely to receive other notes from other people—I do not know if the note Mrs. A. Rushton parted with at Peter Robinson's the next day had been received from somebody else.
By the COURT. This indorsement is in the writing of the person to whom I gave the note.
By MR. FRAMPTON. I have only seen her writing once.
EILEEN DAVEY . I am an assistant at Peter Robinson's, in Oxford Street—this bank note, 61200, was paid to me on October 13th—this is the duplicate bill, and the number of the bill, 404, also appears on the note, which shows the money passed through my hands—the name on the duplicate bill is the same as the name on the note—the date on the bill is "13-10"—I handed the note to the cashier in the ordinary course.
Cross-examined. I do not know from whom this person got the note—she was an ordinary customer.
FREDERICK CHARLES EVANS . I am secretary to the Guards' Club and Leonard Caffrey has been a waiter there since March, 1901—he was the smoking and card-room waiter—in October last we obtained our cheque books from Cox's bank, some with their name on and some without, what we called a plain cheque book—they were supplied to me and I handed them out to the two head coffee-room waiters, each of whom would have a Cox's cheque book and a plain cheque book, which he would get from me upon paying 4s. 2d.—the only other waiter who would have a cheque book would be the card-room waiter, who would have books exactly the same as the head coffee-room waiters—when Caffrey was not on duty his two cheque books would be still in the smoking room at the disposal of the smoking room waiter for the time being—up to that time they had been lying in a drawer in the morning room, which is just below the smoking room, so that any waiter could get them if asked to—the waiter would fetch the cheque book if it was wanted in the smoking room—I issued the cheque books to the smoking room waiter, and other waiters had access to them, so if a morning room waiter wanted a cheque book he would not go to the smoking room waiter and ask him for it, but would go and get it—we cashed cheques for members during the day and got them changed every morning into notes and gold—these notes, 61199 and 61200, never came to me from Cox's—the coffee-room waiter would cash cheques, but the morning-room waiters and the others would have to go to the coffee-room waiter to do it; they have no money—the coffee-room waiters have £200 a day to work upon, supplied by me, and when the money came from Cox's in the morning it was all brought to me—Leonard Caffrey's days on duty would be two long and one short, the long day being from 8 a.m. to 1 a.m. next morning, and the short days would be from 1 to 2.30 p.m. in the afternoon, and then he would come on to help from 7.15 to 9 or 9.30 p.m.—October 10th was a long day, October 11th a short day, and October 12th a long day—on his long days he would not be assisted by anybody in the smoking room, but was the sole smoking and card-room waiter—about 5 p.m. the other waiters would be very busy, the morning room being more or less full at that time, so they would not have time to help Caffrey—this (Produced) is the letter box from the smoking or card room, and I have succeeded
in getting a letter out of that box quite easily without unlocking it—it is kept in the smoking room, locked, and the page boy goes round and clears it and has a key for the purpose—he puts the letters in a bag and takes them away—on October 20th Sir Francis Corbett spoke to me and I called for the cheque books to look through them—on the morning of the 21st I saw Leonard Caffrey and asked him to produce the counterfoils of the cheque book from which the two cheques had been taken by Sir Francis Corbett—he told me the counterfoils had never been kept and that the counterfoils of that particular book had been destroyed as well as others in the usual way—I looked through the counterfoils which were available, but could not find those—on October 20th I found a cheque book which was then in use in the smoking room with some counterfoils in it, as well as cheques (Produced), but it did not include the cheques drawn by Sir Francis Corbett—it would be quite possible for the smoking room waiter to have the end of one book and also a new book in use at the same time—this cheque book (Ex. 8) is probably the cheque book next before the one which is missing, but I might not hand the books out in their proper order—members very seldom fill in the counterfoils, but I was surprised to hear the counterfoils had not been kept—the system at the club was intended for the convenience of members, so that they could get a cheque and cash it—I do not think the question of fraud occurred to anybody.
Cross-examined. Leonard Caffrey was entitled to two cheque books, one of Cox's and one blank one—there were two waiters in the morning room and hall named Herman and Jarman, but I have never issued a cheque book to them; they would get it from the coffee-room waiter—I would issue a cheque book to any waiter in the club if he gave me 4s. 2d., provided he came from the head waiter or the coffee-room waiter—when Caffrey was off duty I think Jarman or Herman would take his place—if one of the other waiters came to me and said, "The smoking-room cheque book is out and Caffrey is not in, will you give me one?" I should do so—if Jarman came to me and said he wanted a cheque book and gave me 4s. 2d., but said nothing else, I should give him one—as far as I can find out, all the cheque books which have been used in the smoking and morning rooms are kept in the morning room—nothing has gone wrong before this—for the whole five years that Caffrey has been employed at the club, cheque books which he had access to, as well as the other waiters, were, I believe, kept in the morning room, but I cannot tell if that was so before I entered the service of the club last May—from my inquiries that has not been departed from until I issued directions in consequence of this trouble—the morning room waiters would use the same books as the smoking-room waiters—these (Produced) are the counterfoils of the book which was in use on October 20th—I have looked through it on several occasions and I should say about two-thirds are quite blank and a lot of the others have only got "Paid" or an initial—as a matter of record they are practically useless—the coffee-room waiters have made a practice of keeping their counterfoils, but they cashed cheques, the head waiter acting as cashier—if a member dining at the club wanted some money, he
could get a cheque from the coffee-room waiter, hand the cheque to the waiter and get the cash, so the waiter would get the cheque back and see the name and could fill in the counterfoil, but in the smoking room the member tears out the cheque and fills it in himself—on October 20th Caffrey was off duty, it being his short day, and he was away when I was making inquiries, and the waiter who was then on duty in the smoking and card room was one of the morning-room waiters and was present when I went into the room—I saw Jarman and Herman together and asked them for the counterfoils and they told me at once it had never been the practice in the smoking or morning rooms to keep the counterfoils, and I believe up to that time there had never been instructions that they should be kept—the waiters had to account to me in the first instance fox the value of the stamps on the cheques, but so far as I was concerned that was an end of the matter and he had to get his pennies from the members as he could—it was before I saw Caffrey that I was told the counterfoils were never kept—when I saw Caffrey it is possible that I said that I had been told counterfoils had been destroyed and asked him if it was true, and I told him in future he had better keep them—it appeared to me to be an irregularity to throw them away, but when I came to understand the thing more clearly I do not admit that it is an irregularity—I think it is very likely, having seen the numbers on the cheque showing that only two more would be remaining in the book, that the book would become exhausted on the 10th, so there would be ten days for the book to be finished and to be thrown away in—there is' nothing in the fact that two cheque books were in use at the same time, as the waiter would never allow one took to run out before he applied to me for another—if a member having dinner desired to pay for it then, he would pay the coffee-room waiter, and he might do so in gold or note, and the waiter would keep the note until it was necessary to pay it into the bank, or if a member wanted change the waiter would give it to him—there is only one boy to clear this letter box until 8 p.m., when he goes off duty—the staff in the club is thirty-three, and I should think about a dozen would be on duty at the same time—the thirty-three includes housemaids; there are about a dozen men altogether—on October 10th the waiters would be about the club between 5 and 6, and in addition to them at that time members would be dropping in before dinner.
Re-examined. I accept from Sir Francis Corbett his statement that there were no other gentlemen there that afternoon—the other waiters would be busy.
By the COURT. If the smoking room waiter was not busy and nobody had rung for him, if on duty he would be in the waiter's caboose on the ground floor.
CHARLES HAVEY MALIM . I live at 46, Boundaries Road, Balham, and am chief cashier at Cox's Bank, Charing Cross, where Sir Francis Corbett banks—on October 11th I cashed a cheque for £30; I cannot remember the time, but from the position it occupies in my book I should say it was about 11.30 or 12 a.m.—I gave in exchange for it two £5 notes, 61199, and 61200, and twenty sovereigns—I cannot say who presented
the cheque—we supply cheque books to the Guards' Club—this (Produced) is a list of the cheque books we supplied, with the dates—we sometimes hand out only one book at a time, when they are not busy but as a rule they have three at a time—we supply cash to the club, in return for cheques on ourselves and on bankers, drawn by members the previous day—there is a regular man who comes as a rule, but sometimes others come if he is engaged.
Cross-examined. That takes place each morning—sometimes note are brought, but very occasionally—the club pays in once a week, but not on Thursdays.
JOHN HENRY STOTT . I am one of the head waiters at the Guards' Club, Noakes being the other, and we are on duty on alternate days—I keep two cheque books, one from Cox's and one blank—they are put in the desk and great care is not taken of them, but if a coffee-room waiter wants a cheque he comes to us for it and gives us a penny for it—if a cheque is wanted to be cashed the waiter must come to the head waiter—the cheque books are locked up when we have finished at night and art not used when we are not on duty—my cheque books are not used when Noakes is on duty—I have my meals quite close to the coffee room, so if anybody wanted a cheque I should be there to give it to him—these (Produced) are two of my counterfoil books from August 22nd to October 11 th, but there is another cheque after that, not filled in—this book ranges from October 13th to November 6th—nearly all of the counterfoils are filled up—both books are on Cox's—the money given to me by Mr. Evans in the morning I should keep in my desk and should cash cheques from that, and sometimes I go to the office once or twice a day to replenish that fund—if I received money in the coffee room I should put it with the money which I had, as it all goes to the one fund.
Cross-examined. Most of the counterfoils are filled in by me, and I do that because I get back from the member the cheque he has taken and I have cashed it, so that I can then fill the counterfoil in as a record but in the smoking room the cheque need not be brought to us—if a member tears out a cheque in the coffee room he might not hand it back, but if he did the waiter could fill in the details—it must come to me if it is to be cashed—if I get a cheque from another part of the club I do not keep a record of what I send back in exchange, or if it is money or notes or the numbers of any notes I might send—if I received a note in the coffee room we should put it with our money and the next gentleman who wanted change would probably get that note, but if it was towards closing time and I still had a note it would go into the cash for next day, so it would be possible for a note which came into my possession on the 11th to be handed out on the 12th—it would not be sent to the bank—at the close of the day I hand the money to the secretary, who hands it to the head waiter next day, and the chances are that you get the same money back—the head waiter gets £200 a day.
Re-examined. I have kept my counterfoils for years.
cheque books; one of them is from August 3rd to October 12th, 1905—they are both on Cox's and the other one is from October 12th to November 1st, 1905—I keep my counterfoils for about two years—on October 12th I cashed Lieutenant Holbeck's cheque—I do not keep a record of what I give in change for cheques—I corroborate what Stott says as to the practice with regard to cheques—this cheque for £30 drawn by Sir Francis Corbett is not out of either of the books I produce.
Cross-examined. I make a practice of filling in the counterfoils when they come back to me, as the members frequently tear out cheques and do not even initial the counterfoils—I can only fill them in by getting the cheque to cash—when we are paid by members in cash or notes I should use the money for exchanging cheques, and the last £5 note brought to us would probably be the first to go out—I cannot say whether I gave two notes, or one and cash for Lieutenant Holbeck's £10 cheque.
THOMAS WILLIAM SWINDALL . I am a page boy at the Guards' Club, and am on duty during the day—part of my duty is to take the letters from the letter boxes, and I have a key to go round and unlock them—it is kept hanging on a nail by the side of the porter's box, and he tells me to collect the letters and then I put the key back—I put the letters into a bag and take them to St. James' Street Post Office—I was on duty in October last—in the afternoons I collected about 5.45 for the 6 p.m. post.
Cross-examined. Sometimes I collected at 5.40, but very seldom earlier than that—I do not remember October 10th last, or whether I went into the smoking room at 5.40, or whether Sir Francis Corbett was fitting there playing cards, or what letters there were to take out—I go round three or four rooms—the collection before 5.45 is 4.25—I should not be collecting at 5.15.
ARTHUR GEORGE HERMAN . I am a waiter at the Guards' Club and have been there about sixteen months—my duties are in the morning room on the first floor—the card room is on the second floor and the coffee room on the third—I have two long days and one short day, and then two short days and one long day—it is not my duty to go into the smoking room at any time—between 5 and 6 is a very busy time, and I should have quite enough work to do in my own room—if the bell rang for the card room I should take no notice of it—I know nothing about Sir Francis Corbett's cheque—on October 12th I was off duty, but I was on duty on the 10th and 11th, both being long days—long off-duty day means that I am off duty for the rest of the day after luncheon, and it was a long off-day for me on the 12th.
Cross-examined. When Caffrey is off duty Jarman relieves him and Jarman also relieves me—I am on duty if Jarman is on duty in the smoking room—he is on duty one day and Caffrey the other, and the third day I should be off—the cheque books were kept quite openly in a drawer in the morning room—only one book was in use, not two—if one book was nearly exhausted we should get another one from the office—if there were only four cheques left in a book I should say to Caffrey, "The cheque book is getting low," but if he was not there and it was getting low I
should go to the clerk and say I wanted another one, and Caffrey would pay for it next day—perhaps Jarman would keep the book; there is nothing wrong about getting another one—the books which were kept in the morning room were used for members by myself, Jarman, Caffrey, and the billiard marker, and perhaps the hall porter—I do not know if the porter would take it to the member, but the billiard marker would.
Re-examined. If I wanted a new cheque book I should ask for one on Caffrey's behalf.
By MR. FRAMPTON. During the time I have been at the club counterfoils have not been kept in the morning room.
HENRY JARMAN . I am a waiter at the Guards' Club and have been there about five years—I help in the smoking room and in the morning room—the day Caffrey is off I take his duties on, which is my long day, on the next day I am in the morning room, taking duty for Herman, and the third day I am off duty—on October 10th I was off duty at mid-day and off duty again at 2.45, and should not be in the club again until 8 next morning—on the 11th I was on duty in the smoking room and had nothing to do with the coffee room—on the 10th I was in the coffee room for an hour and three quarters, but was off duty for the rest of the day, and on the 11th I was relieving Caffrey—on the 12th I was on long day, relieving Herman—I know nothing about this cheque of £30 of Sir Francis Corbett's—on the 12th, when Lieutenant Holbeck cashed a cheque in the smoking room, I was in the morning room, but I cannot swear that I did not cash his cheque; we cash so many, but if it was cashed in the smoking room it was not done where I had any right to be, because I was in the morning room.
Cross-examined. The cheques were kept in the morning room drawer, where any of the staff could go and get one for a member—when I first did smoking-room duty I asked whether the counterfoils had to be kept and was told it was no good, because members did not fill them in, and we cashed so many we had not time to fill them in ourselves—when a member wants a cheque cashed we have to go to the coffee room for it—all the waiters are friendly and if one had to go off there would be no objection to another one answering the bell, but the smoking room waiter knows when his business comes on and arranges for that time—if he were going away for a few minutes there would be no objection to another waiter answering his bell if he had not to answer his own.
Re-examined. If I am working at 5 o'clock in the morning room I should sometimes like two more waiters to help me, as I am so busy.
MAUD GEER . I am a clerk in the post office at Harringay, and on October 14th I remember receiving this £5 bank note (Produced)—I took it in exchange for this money order for £2 19s. 6d. (Produced)—I do not recognise the person who got the money order—we keep a record of bank notes which we receive for orders, putting the numbers down in a book—this (Produced) is my duplicate for the order, giving the name of the sender and the address to whom the order is to be sent—on October 12th there was another order for £33 17s. issued from the Harringay Post Office in the name of L. D. Caffrey—this (Produced) is the duplicate—
in part payment for that order there were received two bank notes, of which a record was made, but I did not issue the order—the number of the order is stamped on the back of the notes, and we also enter the numbers in this book—the number of this order was 687, and the bank note is stamped 687.
Cross-examined. The post office is quite close to the Grand Parade at Harringay, and I know the laundry business carried on at 18, Grand Parade, but I did not know the name of the people carrying it on—the nearest post office to Grand Parade would be the Harringay office—I was on duty on October 12th, but I did not issue this order, and the young lady who did so is not here—on the 14th I issued the order for £2 19s. 6d. and the person filled up the name, "A. G. Caffrey, 18, Grand Parade"—the person fills in a form and you cannot get an order without doing so—I do not know Algernon Caffrey by sight—I do not remember him asking me if he should put his name on the back of the note and then my saying that as he had filled up the form it did not matter—if I had not got his name I should have asked for it and his address.
Re-examined. If Caffrey had asked me whether he should put his. name on the bank note I should have said there was no occasion, because I had already his name and address on the slip—I have not the faintest recollection whether he did ask me that.
JOSEPH PERCIVAL HUDSON . I am a clerk in the Bank Note Office in the Bank of England, and produce two notes, 61199 and 61200, dated April 19th, 1905—they came back to the Bank of England in the ordinary way, and except for the cancellation they are in the same condition—one is endorsed "A. Rushton," and the other has some stamps—they were in that condition when they came back—these two notes, 53931 of March 21st, 1905, and 77843 of March 27th, 1905, were returned to the Bank of England in the ordinary way and subject to cancellation they are in the same condition as when they were returned—on the back of both of them there is the number 687.
THOMAS TAPPENDEN (Detective-Sergeant A.) I had the conduct of this inquiry put into my hands, and in consequence of my investigations I called on November 3rd last at 18, Grand Parade, Harringay, about 4.30 p.m., where I saw Algernon Caffrey—I told him I was a police officer and was making inquiries about a £5 note which he had cashed at the post office opposite—he said, "I remember cashing a £5 note for a money order for £2 19s"—I said, "How long ago is this?"—he said, "I should think about a fortnight"—I said, "Where did you get that note from?"—he said, "I went to Finsbury Park Post Office to get two or three notes for gold to pay my rent, but I only got two, and while I was in the post office a man accosted me and offered to let me have one. I did not have anything to do with him and came out and got into a tram"—I do not remember his saying anything which took place with the girl in the post office—he said, "I got into a tram and a man followed me in and said to me, 'Won't you have this note? It is perfectly all right' "—I said, "Who is this man?"—he said, "He said his name was Scott, and as he appeared to be a respectable man I took the note from him and gave
him the gold"—I said, "Do you know where that man lives?"—be said, "He gave me a card with Warham Road on it. I do not remember the number"—Warham Road is nearly opposite No. 18, Grand Parade—I said, "Have you got that card now?"—he said, "I think I have it in my other clothes," and he went into another room and shortly afterwards returned and said, "I cannot find it; I must have destroyed it"—I said, "You had better endeavour to find it, as this note was part of the proceeds of a forged cheque"—I then went away—at that tune I did not know that he had a brother who was a servant at the Guards' Club—next day I went to the club and saw Mr. Evans and had a conversation with him, and went back that day with him to 18, Grand Parade, and again saw Algernon Caffrey—by that time I did know about his brother and I said to him, "Have you communicated with your brother?" and he said, "Yes, I wrote to him last night"—I said, "Is your brother in?"—he said, "Yes, I think so"—I was speaking to him in the shop and he went out to the private door by the side and opened it, and I saw his brother in the passage—I pointed him out to Mr. Evans and asked him if that was the man employed at the club as a waiter, and he said, "Yes"—I said to Leonard, "Your brother has been found dealing with a £5 note which is part of the proceeds of a cheque which has been stolen and forged belonging to Sir Francis Astley Corbett of the Guards' Club"—he said, "I do not know anything about it. It seems to me my brother has been made a dupe of by someone who has got a grudge against me"—we then all went back to the Guards' Club, where I asked Leonard for the letter his brother had written to him, and he handed it to me (Read): "Dear Len,—You will be surprised to hear that I have had a visit from a detective to-night. You remember I told you some time ago that I went to Finsbury Park Post Office to get some £5 notes for gold. A man there in the shop offered to let me have some, which I told you I refused on the advice of the girl behind the desk, but I never told you that I afterwards accepted on meeting him in the car on the way home, because I thought you might think me a fool for doing so, but I did, and you see what a mess I have caused by so doing. The detective told me the note was stolen, and, therefore, I am under suspicion for changing it. Do not tell anyone, as he told me to keep it secret. The fellow gave me a card with Scott, Warham Road, on it, but nobody lives there of that name, so it must have been false. Trusting it will end satisfactorily, I remain, Your Affec. Bro., Alg. I am keeping my eyes open for the blackguard, so I am quite an amateur detective. N.B. Splendid trade this week"—I made inquiries at Warham Road and looked up the local directory, but could not find anybody named Scott there—the prisoners were charged at the police station and Leonard said, "Absolutely not guilty," and Algernon made no reply.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries respecting both the prisoners and find they are both highly respectable young men—I have ascertained that in addition to his duties at the Guards' Club Leonard had saved money and carried on a laundry business at Harringay with his brother, which, I should say, is a fairly good one—they have let off a portion of the premises
there, and although the rent is £130 a year they receive about £120 from tenants—one of the tenants, a doctor refused to give me any information, and I do not know if he pays his rent monthly; I believe the others pay weekly—the prisoners have a receiving office at Holloway—I found that the person who had tendered the £5 note had done so at a post office immediately opposite his place of business and had given in writing his correct name and address, "A. G. Caffrey," so probably he must have known if there was any question about the note that it could be traced quite easily—Algernon said at once that he had been to Finsbury Park Post Office to get notes for gold, and I think something was said about the young lady behind the counter there, and on the way to the station at Algernon's suggestion we went to the post office—last Session I said, "He said that the girl behind the counter at the Finsbury Post Office told him that she was glad that he had not taken the note of the man," and that is correct—it was in consequence of that, that I went to Finsbury Post Office with him, and the young lady said she remembered such an incident; she could not swear what man, but a man had called there a short time ago and wanted notes for gold—I do not think she said anything about being glad the prisoner had not taken a note from another man—I heard that young lady called at the request of the Recorder last Sessions; she was not called for the Prosecution at the Police Court—the statement made by Algernon was quite frank and there was no appearance of concealment, and he went with me to the post office to look at the directory to see if we could find Scott of Warham Road—I asked him if he had communicated with his brother previous to receiving that letter, and he said he had—the person named Rushton, whose name appears on the back of the note, was in England at the time of the Police Court proceedings, but she was not called as a witness—I told Algernon that he had better keep his mouth quiet and look about for himself, as he was in a funny predicament.
By the COURT. On November 3rd I did not mention to Algarnon that the cheque had been stolen from the Guards' Club, and I did not mention the club at all—I did not tell him that the cheque had been drawn by Sir Francis Corbett; I simply said the note was the proceeds of a forged cheque.
ALICE JESSIE COATES . I am a clerk at the Finsbury Park Post Office, and early in November Algernon Caffrey and Sergeant Tappenden came in and asked me if I could recollect anything happening in October—in that month I remembered a gentleman coming into the office who, I think, wanted two £5 notes, which I gave him—he asked for another, which I had not got, and a man stepped forward and offered one which he refused—the man who offered the note then left and I think I said to the other man, "I am glad you did not take it; you do not know where they get them from," and he went away—I cannot fix the date, but I think it was about a fortnight before the detective visited me—I did not recognise Algernon when he came to the post office as the man who had been in before—I should not know the other man again if I saw him—when Caffrey came and asked me about it I remembered the matter at once.
Cross-examined. The man who offered the note appeared to be respectable and considerably older than the man who wanted the note, and he stuttered a little—I remembered the incident at once, but I have made no record of it—I do not remember what time of the day it was—on October 12th I was on duty from 8 a.m., to 2 p.m. when I left for the day.
Leonard Caffrey, in his defence on oath, said that he had never been in any trouble before; that when not at the Guards' Club he lived with his brother at Harringay and carried on the laundry business with him, which was very profitable; that they had purchased the business last year for £180, £100 of which he himself found, the remainder being obtained from a former employer; that he had no reason to doubt that he was on duty at the dub on October 10th, but did not remember attending to Sir Francis Corbett, although in the ordinary course he would be the waiter to answer the card-room bell, and if Sir Francis wanted a cheque he would be the waiter to take it to him; that he did not remember cashing a cheque for Sir Francis for £10, although he had cashed cheques for him dozens of times; that he had no knowledge of the cheque for £30 drawn and posted by Sir Francis; that he had not extracted any letter front the letter box in that room; that he never had in his possession a cheque for £30 payable to Mr. Sounders; that on October 11th he did not present or cause to be presented a cheque for £30 at Cox's bank; that the first time he heard that a cheque had gone astray was on October 20th, from Jarman; that Mr. Evans first saw him about it on October 21st; that it had not been the practice in the morning or smoking rooms to keep the counterfoils; that the majority of members left the counterfoils blank; that the cheque books used in the smoking room were used by himself, the morning-room waiter, and the billiard-room waiter; that if the book containing these two cheques was destroyed it was done in the ordinary way; that he did not remember cashing a cheque for £10 for Lieutenant Holbeck, although he had received cheques from him many times; that if he was on duty on October 12th he would probably have been the waxier to attend to him; that if he had received a cheque from Lieutenant Holbeck he would have taken it to the coffee-room waiter to change; that he had not substituted another note for the one he might have received from the waiter, and given the substituted note to Lieutenant Holbeck; that if he received a cheque from Lieutenant Holbeck to change he gave him the change just as he received it from the coffee-room waiter; that he had never handed to his brother a £5 note received from Cox's bank in payment of any cheque, and at that time had not handed him any money at all; that when his brother mentioned a note in his letter he (Leonard) did not know it had anything to do with Sir Francis Corbet's cheque; that he did not remember mentioning to his brother the fact that a cheque of Sir Francis Corbett had been stolen; and that he could not suggest any person who had gone to the bank neat morning and changed the £30 cheque.
Algernon Caffrey, in his defence on oath, said that he had never been in any trouble before; that he was in partnership with his brother and managed the business, which was doing very well; that they let off part of their premises for £120 a year; that they had no banking account, but sent the rent in bank notes; that he went to Finsbury Park Post Office, which is larger than the
Harringay office, to get three £5 notes, but could only get two, which he took; that a man in the office, aged about forty-five, who looked respectable, said he could let him have another note, which he did not take; that the lady behind the counter said she was glad he had not taken it and that he then left the office, the other man honing left first; that he then possessed £40 or £50, and, before he went to the office, believed he had two notes; that on leaving the post office he got on a car and saw the same man again, who said, "Won't you have this note? It is all right"; that after a time he took it; that the man spoke as if he knew him, said he was a neighbour, and gave him a card bearing the some of Scott, Warham Road, Harringay; that he gave the man £5 for As note, so then had five £5 notes, and to make up the amount of the rent that he wanted he was going to the Harringay office to take out a money order; that he learned for the first time at the office that he could get money orders up to 140, and so got an order for the full amount which he required, paying for it in notes and gold, giving his brother's name, as the lease was in his name, and 18, Grand Parade, as the address; that on the 14th he went to the post office again for an order for £2 19s., giving his own name and paying with a £5 note, but he could not say if that was the note he had received from the stranger or one of those he had had in his possession previously; that he had not received a £5 note from his brother about this time and had not knowledge that a cheque drawn by Sir Francis Corbett for £30 had been stolen; that the next thing he heard after obtaining the money order was on November 3rd, when he saw Tappenden, whom he at once told of the incident at the post office; that he had no idea that Tappenden was inquiring about the proceeds of a cheque from the Guards' Club, and that he had no knowledge that the note was the proceeds of a stolen cheque; and that he did not see his brother on October 11th.
LEONARD CAFFREY, who received a good character, GUILTY . He was strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury— Six months' hard labour.
ALGERNON CAFFREY NOT GUILTY .
240. CHARLES BUTLER (74) , Unlawfully obtaining from Reginald Paget and from, Stanley Davis Wylde two sides of beef by false pretences with intent to defraud. Second Count. Obtaining from Max Shoebinsky a diamond ring by false pretences and with intent to defraud.
MR. CALYERT Prosecuted; MR. OLIVER Defended.
REGINALD PAGET . I am a salesman to Mr. Stanley Wylde, who carries on business in the Central Meat Market as Wylde & Sons, butchers—on January 4th last a Mr. Brook brought the prisoner to me—I had not known him before, but I knew Mr. Brook some years ago as a butcher—he introduced him as a purchaser of his business, and said that the prisoner had paid him a deposit on it and they had come to London to complete the sale—the prisoner said he could do with two sides of beef—Brook looked at the beef and then went out of the shop—the prisoner asked me the price of the beef—I told him 3s. 4d. a stone—he picked it out with skewers—the sides were quartered and weighed—the prisoner went to the desk—the
clerk told him how much they were—I was called to the desk—the clerk said, "This gentleman has tendered a cheque and cannot give a reference in the market"—I then asked the prisoner if upon presentation of the cheque at the bank at Southend it would be met—he said I had no need to fear that, "I have hundreds of pounds at the bank and I am a large moneylender at Southend"—he handed me a card—he said that he was in the habit of lending large sums of money to different hotel managers and that he wanted the meat for them—I went outside to Brook and came back and told the clerk to accept the cheque, which was for £14 8s. 7d.—it, was paid into the bank the same day and returned on January 8th—is has never been paid.
Cross-examined. But for what I was told when I went outside the shop to make inquiries, I should not have accepted the cheque—Brook had a butcher's shop in Essex Road—he looked at the beef before the prisoner picked it out—Brook did not choose it—I do not know, as a matter of fact, that the prisoner is a moneylender's agent—he new mentioned any names—I learned subsequently that our meat was sent to Brook's place—I did not know it at the time—it did not at the time strike me as funny that a moneylender, who was introduced by a butchet, should pick out the meat—I do not know who filled the cheque up.
Re-examined. Looking at the cheque now, I can recognise the clerk's writing in the body of it—at the time of accepting the cheque I believed the prisoner's statements.
ROBERT HALL . I am a meat carrier at "F" Avenue, Central Meat Market—on January 4th the prisoner asked us to fetch some meat from Wylde & Sons, which we did—I believe it was the prisoner who paid as for doing so—it was booked to him.
Cross-examined. The prisoner came with a man named Brook, whom I knew slightly—I had done work for him on one or two occasions—I never saw the prisoner before—as far as I remember, the prisoner paid me—the order was booked in the name of "Butler" and the payment was made in that name—I am not positive who paid me—the meat was sent to Mr. Brook, Benfleet—it did not strike me as curious that the order should be given by the prisoner and the meat sent to Brook—a butcher has a special rate for carriage, and by sending the meat to Brook it was done at half the ordinary rate—Brook took part in our conversation.
Re-examined. I am not certain who told me to consign it to Brook.
FRANK JOSLING . I am a cashier at the London & South Western Bank, Southend—I produce a certified copy of prisoner's account with us—it was opened on May 27th, 1905, with £47 10s.—various amounts were drawn out—on June 7th the balance was £23 12s. 5d.—that was attached by garnishee order which we received on June 1st, obtained by Messrs. Wilkinson, Raikes & Co., which swept away everything—the prisoner was informed of this by the bank by letter of June 1st—I produce a list of cheques drawn by the prisoner and returned.
Cross-examined. The letter to the prisoner was sent to 61, Park Street, Southend, which was the only address we had—I heard a rumour that e carried on business also at Norfolk Avenue, Southend—if he had left
61, Park Street, and gone to Norfolk Avenue in June, I should not be aware of the fact.
Re-examined. We never had the letter returned.
CLARENCE LESTER HOON . I am a clerk at the London & South Western Bank, Southend—this letter informs the prisoner of the garnishee order I took to his house in Park Street—the letter of June 7th, informing him that the garnishee order was paid, was posted to him by me.
ARTHUR PENTIN (Detective-Inspector, City). On January 20th I went with a warrant to 52, Norfolk Avenue, Southend, to arrest the prisoner—I found him hidden in a cupboard in his scullery—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I did not have an ounce of the meat or a penny of the money—I intended to put the proceeds of the sale of the meat into the bank, so that when the cheque was presented it would have been met. Another man had every penny"—I brought him up to Snow Hill police station—he was charged and made no reply—I found a number of documents in his possession, including this cheque, marked "No account," a notice from Messrs. Barclay & Co., returning a cheque, and a number of cancelled cheques on various banks, including a number marked "Refer to Drawer."
Cross-examined. I called twice at the prisoner's house—I saw his wife and told her the first time, that I wanted a loan—the second time I said I wanted to serve a summons personally—I have all the prisoner's cheques here—they might run into hundreds—I have not ascertained whether the cheques have been paid or not—he has had four banking accounts—he said he was acting as agent for a moneylender—I have no reason to doubt he was carrying on a moneylender's agency—I have seen Brook, and according to his statement I know the beef was sent to Brook and sold by him.
MAX SHOEBINSKY . I am a jeweller, living at 38, Havering Street, Commercial Road, E.—on October 20th, at 6 p.m., I saw the prisoner in Houndsditch, talking to a barber, who said the prisoner wanted to buy a single stone diamond ring—I said, "You would not buy it at night"—be said, "Yes, I will buy it," and that he had been to a shop to buy one, but that it was closed and that he wanted to buy a diamond ring that night—I said, "Are you a judge of diamonds?"—he said, "No"—I said, "I should not like to serve you at night; you come in the morning and try it, and see if it is worth the money"—the prisoner repeated that he must have it that night—I said, "I have pawned a ring at Fisher's for £5; the ring is worth a few pounds more than that. I want a sovereign for the ticket; I will go with you and pay the interest, and if you are satisfied you can take it out"—the prisoner said, "All right"—I went with him to Fisher's, paid the interest, and showed him the ring—on the way there he said he was a big buyer, that he had bought the Pavilion Theatre and had got a lot of property in Southend, where he lived; also property in Poplar—he looked at the ring—I said, "The stone weighs over a carat; the ring is well worth the money, and any time you like I will return you the money"—he said he had not got cash; he would give a cheque—the pawnbroker refused to accept a cheque—I said, "It does not matter;
I will pay you the money"—I paid for the ring and the prisoner gave me the cheque—he put the ring on his finger and went out with it—I went out with him—when I took his cheque I thought it must be a good one—the cheque was paid into the bank, but returned marked "No account"—it was drawn on Barclay's Bank, Leigh-on-Sea—I have never received my money.
Cross-examined. We called in at several public-houses on our way to the pawnbroker—we passed near the Pavilion Theatre, Whitechapel—he did not say he had built the Forester's Music Hall—he gave me a card with his address—I cannot read or write—the prisoner did not give me the ring back, saying as soon as the cheque was cleared he would hive the ring—I went to Leman Street police station and reported the matter—I did not write to the prisoner, because I had heard something that made me think it was useless.
SAMUEL ALEXANDER BIRD . I am manager at Messrs. Barclay's Bank, Leigh-on-Sea—I produce a certified copy of the prisoner's account at our bank—it was opened on March 10th, 1905, with £12—on March 14th £11 1s. 1d. had been withdrawn—no other money was paid in—from then till October 24th twenty cheques were presented for payment and returned.
CHARLES FREDERICK BRITCHER . I am an assistant to Louisa Fisher, pawnbroker, 115, Commercial Road—I saw the prisoner on October 20th last in our shop with a man who goes by the name of "Max," one of the witnesses here—Max had a ring in pawn with us for £5—he came in with the prisoner and asked to see it—he showed it to the prisoner, who said he thought it would do—the prisoner put it on his finger and asked my manager if he would take a cheque for the amount—he refused and max said he would pay the money and take the cheque, which he did—the prisoner kept the ring on his finger.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he bought the beef for Brook; that it was sent to Brook's address, where he sold it and kept the money; that the proceeds, of the sale were to have gone to pay for the beef; that he (the prisoner) had no intention to defraud when the beef was bought; and that the ring was taken back from him by Shoebinsky.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this court on October 22nd, 1888. Five other convictions, dating from 1858, were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude and three years' police supervision
NEW COURT.—Thursday and Friday, February 8th and 9th, 1906
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ELSIE TREVOR . I have carried on the business of an antique dealer at 18, Burlington Street, since June 25th—Mr. Graham, a friend of mine, brought the prisoner down to me and told me that he might be a great deal of use to me and be able to sell things for me on commission—nothing
was done at that interview—the prisoner came again a short time after that, and he came several times between that and the end of August—he always examined my stock—some time in August he came in and picked out a pair of Sheffield candlesticks which he had seen before, and asked me to allow him to take them away to show them to someone—I allowed him to do so—he took them on sale or return—they were never returned—they were worth about £2—he called between that and September several times and I asked him if he had sold them—he said, "I cannot say positively, but I will let you know in a few days"; he always put it off—on September 15th he saw a diamond necklace of mine worth £110, the price then asked for it being £125—he said if I would allow him to take it down he thought he could sell it; he had a friend, a diamond merchant, called Brodie, who he thought would buy it—I believed him and let him have it on the condition that he brought it back the next day—about three days after, he brought it back—he came again and asked me if I had sold it and I said, "No"—he said, "Well, may I take it again? I do not think I can bring it back to you to-morrow"—I said, "Yes, on condition that you retain it to me in three days"—he took it away—at the end of three days he came in and asked to be allowed to keep it for three days more, and I agreed—he did not come for several days, so I wrote to him more than once for it to be returned at once, but he never replied—he came in eventually and told at he had sent it to a friend in the country—I told him he had no right to do that without my permission and he said he would get it back at once—he did not come back and I wrote to him several tunes—he has never returned it nor accounted for the money—he called in October and inspected six Sheffield plate candlesticks—I asked him several times about the necklace—I allowed him to have the candlesticks for a special purpose; they were to be sent to Mr. Simmons, of Orchard Street, and returned on the following morning—the necklace was still supposed to be in the country—up to that time I supposed him to be honest—Messrs. Simmons are well-known antique dealers, and he told me they were great friends of his; he had previously told me he was going to bring Mr. Simmons down to look at some pictures I had—subsequently to his taking the candlesticks he called again and began to make excuses about the necklace and other things, and he said I should have them back the next day—the six pairs of Sheffield candlesticks were worth £12—on October 30th he came in and said he was going to write to Mr. Simmons and get them back—that was the last lot of goods he got from me—I brought an action against him in the High Court and got judgment against him, but nothing came of it—after that I went to see Mr. Simmons, and in consequence of what he told me I communicated with the police and the prisoner was taken into custody.
ARTHUR CLARK (Sergeant C.) On January 20th I saw the prisoner in Moorgate Street, E.C., and told him I was a police officer and held a warrant for his arrest for stealing a diamond necklace, six candlesticks and other Articles, the property of Miss Trevor—I made inquiries of him as to the property, but he would give no information—at Vine Street he said, "I
did not steal them"—I said before the Magistrate that he said, "Yes, but I do not see how you make it stealing"; that is what he actually said—I made inquiries at his address at 80, First Avenue, Manor Park, and found he was not there.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was told by a female I saw then that you had left for a week.
ELIAS SIMMONS . I am a member of the firm of Wills & Simmons, antique dealers, of 21, Orchard Street—I cannot remember the prisoner; I have never done business with him—I did not authorise him to say on October 20th that I wanted six Sheffield candlesticks—he never showed them to me—it is a long time ago if he has ever called at our establishment.
Cross-examined. I am sure I never paid you 25s. on account on May 20th, 1903, for Levi & Barnet, of Brushnfield Street; our clerk may have paid you—I do not remember you.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he had told the prosecutrix that he could sell the goods; that he had received them and not accounted for them; that he had known Mr. Simmons for a considerable time, and that his name cropped up with reference to some pictures.
GUILTY . The prisoner stated, on being asked as to what had become of the property, that the diamond necklace had been sent into the country and sold; that the other articles had been sold to various parties, and that he could give no further information. The learned Judge postponed sentence till the next Sessions, advising the prisoner to give information to enable the property to be recovered.
242. WILLIAM DAVENPORT (54) and HENRY MOYLE (71) , Conspiring together to cheat and defraud of their moneys and valuable securities, such subjects of His Majesty the King as they could induce to become depositors in the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate, and to advance their moneys to William Dayenport as manager. Other Counts. Charging them with obtaining moneys and securities by false pretences and with intent to defraud.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. MUIR Defended Davenport, and MR. COOMBE Defended Moyle.
CHRISTOPHER WALTON . I live at 23, Crowhurst Road, Brixton—in July last I saw this advertisement in the "Daily Telegraph" (Ex. 1, read): "If you do not mind my rather common business, somewhat similar to farming, and can invest £100 on mortgage, at short or long notice, you may secure a monthly income of about £20 without liability or partnership. Box 4, 970, care of Pool & Co., Fleet Street, E.C."—I answered that advertisement—in reply I got this letter, dated July 13th, addressed from 156, Stamford Street, and with the heading, "South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate" (Ex. 2, enclosing "complete documents with the form of mortgage bond," and asking him to return enclosed newspaper; that his esteemed order would have prompt attention, but that should he wish to see him a previous appointment must be arranged. Signed, "W. Davenport")—with that letter I got this document, which purports to be a prospectus of the syndicate (Ex. 3)—portions of it run thus;
"12 per cent mortgage bonds of £50 each. As prescribed by H.M. Customs with the consent of the Board of Trade. Instituted to secure capital and interest, giving right to a monthly served bonus and 1 percent, a Month. The business of the syndicate is dealing with appliances directly or indirectly connected with shipping and fishing, and promoting same. Trawling, fishing with nets and lines. The capture of lobsters, crabs, pawns, shell fish, etc.; in general, all kinds of fishing"—lower down it says, "Profits. We have here two means of securing profits, each of which being a source of income capable in itself of providing for the 12 percent., leaves sufficient margin for a big bonus"—a little further on: "Ships are always divided into sixty-four shares, no matter the size and value of the ship"—lower down: "A registered ship or a share therein may be made a security for a loan." "To further develop the business 12 per cent, mortgage bonds are being given to Investors. The mortgagees thereof enjoy also a monthly bonus. The preference will be given to those investing the largest sum"; then come, "Rules and regulations for mortgagees to secure principal sum, interest and bonus"—No. 1 is, "By South & South-West coast it is understood that the fishing is mostly carried on from the mouth of the Thames to Valentia"—3, "The mortgagor will be the present manager of the syndicate, in whose name the ships are registered, and who alone has power to mortgage them. All sums to be invested are paid to the mortgagor in person"—5, "The mortgage must be on a ship, propelled by steam of no less than 60 tons gross register and no less than 99 feet long. It will include all boats, fishing gear and all accessories on board, or housed on shore"—6, "Each month the profits are shared for the previous month's work, and share sent as bonus to the mortgagee, together with interest calculated at the rate of 1 per cent, per month"—9, "Each £25 invested by the subscriber to the following form of application is represented by a mortgagee of one share in the ship mortgaged. This must be a first and only mortgage and the share or shares thus mortgaged can in no way be mortgaged to any other investor or in any other way. The future mortgage of other shares than the one or those applied for on following form can in no way affect the said shares, either in percentage a year or in amount of estimation of share"—15, "The manager is bound to follow up the fishing by being present, or near the fishing grounds, unless otherwise engaged. He will from there be in communication with the investor when necessary"—further on it says: "To estimate future profits we go by profits of the two last years. The year 1903 gave £293 5s. per £50 invested, The year 1904 gave £320 5s. per £50 invested"—with that document there was another document described as the "Half Yearly Report to Holders of Mortgage Bonds or Mortgagees entitled to Interest and Bonus according to Article 8 of Rules and Regulations"; it is headed, "First Six Months of Third Year" (Ex. 4)—it says: "Gentlemen, I am happy to report that the cumulative interest and bonus due to entitled mortgagees for the month of June last is £28 5s. 6d. per £50 invested. This sum, added to that of the five previous months, makes a total of £183 17s. 9d. for the first lit months of the present year (1905). This shows a steady increase
compared with the year 1903, which was for the whole year £293 5s. and 1904, which was £320 5s. per £50 invested"—on the back then is a note as to their inventions (Extract read: Stating that their invention were attracting considerable notice, and obtaining flattering press opinions and splendid reports from scientific sources; that their contrivance for saving life in cases of drowning was predicted to have a world-wide use; and that the manager wished it to be understood that in many instances he was only lending his name; that others deserved the honours, and their investors a fair share of profits)—it says farther on: "It is hoped the present mortgaged will invest part of their interests in same 12 per cent, mortgage bonds, though I know that in most circumstances they require their money for other purposes. In any case they may know that a few more bonds an now available, the invested money to be secured by mortgages at 12 per cent, a year, with bonus, according to Rules and Regulations"—that is dated July 1st, 1905, and is signed, "The manager, W. Davenport"—there was also enclosed a blank form of mortgage (Ex. 5), having on the top, "Prescribed by H.M. Customs with the consent of the Board of Trade. Form No. 11"—then there are spaces for the name of the ship, whether a sailing or steamship, and then follows a form of contract by which the mortgagor covenants to pay back the principal advanced with interest and as security share or shares in a ship are given, the mortgagor covenanting that the share in question is free from encumbrances—there is a note at the bottom: (g) "If any prior encumbrance, add, 'save as appears by the registry of the said ship,'" and there is a note at the side: "The prompt registration of a mortgage deed at the Port of Registry of the ship is essential to the security of the mortgagee, as a mortgage takes its priority from the date of production for registry, not from the date of the instrument"—I find printed in red in my mortgage after it was issued: "Registered (blank) day of (blank) 1905, in the offices of the South & South-West Coast Syndicate, Steamship (blank) registered as fishing boat," and so on—I also received Exhibit 6, which purports to be a copy of extracts from different papers headed "Press Opinions"—this is an extract from the "Sunex Advertiser" (Read: Stating that by joining the revenue expected from sale of royalties, fishing and business connected with same, the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate were able to offer a fixed interest of 12 per cent, a year; that substantial security was given on one or more steamships and that the sum one ship could be mortgaged for was limited to a very low figure; it followed, therefore, that the investment were pretty safe)—this is one from the "Mercury" (Read: Stating how mortgages could be obtained on ships which secured the interest as well as the principal sum; that special forms were issued by H.M. Customs with consent of the Board of Trade, and in accordance with the Merchant Shipping Act, and that such mortgages seemed to offer a very safe and remunerative investment)—there is also an extract from "Financial Truth" (Read: Describing the nature of the mortgages, and that the business was conducted by this company on legal lines, and there appeared to be but little risk, if any, although interest was paid at the rate of 12 per cent, per annum)—with
those documents I also received this document—it is headed, "Bishop's Mansions, Fulham," and dated May 8th, 1905, and the subject matter is "life Saving Apparatus" (Ex. 7, read): "Having thoroughly investigated the mechanism of your Enforced Breathing Apparatus, I am firmly of opinion that as a means of bringing back to life apparently dying (and even actually dead) beings" (Describing the uses to which the invention could be put, and stating that it would take precedence and supersede all present means to restore life)—I do not think I paid particular attention to it—it is signed "J. H. Hart, M.D., U.S.A., L.R.C.P., L.R.C.S., L.F.P.S.G., Edin., etc.," and addressed to "Mr. W. Davenport" [MR. MUIR contended that the proper construction of the sentence as a means of bringing back to life apparently dying (and even actually dead) beings" was "as a means of bringing back to life apparently dying (and even apparently actually dead) beings"]—on receipt of those documents I wrote, making an appointment with Davenport—on July 26th I called at 156, Stamford Street, and had an interview with him—I asked him about the syndicate and he told me general particulars of what was going on—I think I asked him whether there was a fishing fleet and he said there was a fleet of vessels—I think we touched on one or two things in the prospectus and he gave me, as I considered, satisfactory answers—I asked him what might be the value of one of these fishing vessels and I understood him to say between £3,000 and £4,000—consequently I took it as there could only be £l, 600 borrowed on one of these vessels that there was ample security, sixty-four parts in each vessel at £25 coming to £1,600 roughly—I said I would consider it for a couple of days and let him know—on the second day after I went and decided to take a share; this was somewhere about July 28th—he offered to reserve me two shares, £50, and I agreed to take them—I have here this cheque, payable to "W. Davenport, Esq.," for £50, and it has been paid by my Dank (Ex. 9), and I received this receipt (Ex. 10), saying the bond would be sent me in a day or two—on August 1st I received this letter (Ex. 11) enclosing the mortgage bond—that bond was dated on a Sunday and I pointed out to him that that was not a legal bond and he made out this fresh one, executed July 31st by "William Davenport," in the presence of "Charles Johnston," by which he covenants to pay me 12 per cent, per annum on my advance and to repay the principal and to mortgage to me two shares in the steamship Shanklin— he says at the end, "I for myself and my heirs covenant with the said Christopher Walton and his assigns that I have power to mortgage in manner aforesaid the above-mentioned shares, and that the same are free from encumbrances"—I noticed this note about registering this mortgage and I took it as soon as possible to the Customs and registered it—I thought it was a genuine thing that was being carried on, and that I had security from the vessel, and that is what induced me to part with my money—I cannot say I expected the profits always to be such as they set forth in the prospectus; I expected they would vary from time to time; I believed what they stated there at the time—on one of my visits, Davenport said he had a never and gentleman who was interesting himself in the syndicate and
who was able to influence them a good bit, and who could get some good investors—on the next occasion that I saw Davenport he introduced him to me as the Reverend Mr. Moyle—that was after I parted with the first sum I invested—Moyle took no part in persuading me to join—on one occasion afterwards I went to the office and found Davenport out, but Moyle was there—in a general conversation we had he said he hoped the business was all right, as he had got influential friends who wanted to invest in it—I said I hoped so too—he handed me this visiting card: "Rev. V. H. Moyle (Minister) Pembroke College, Oxford, 2, St. Stephen's Square, W." (Ex. 23)—the addresses are in ink—on one occasion I asked Davenport how he disposed of the fish, whether it came into London, and he said it was sold at ports of call—the first return I got for my investment was on September 4th, when I received this letter, enclosing a postal order for 10s. and a paper (Ex. 13, read: Enclosing P.O. for 10s., being at the rate of 12 per cent, per year; and that he expected he (Walton) would next month have full bonus; that he hoped very shortly to write him about a good piece of news, and enclosing a paper which he might keep, Signed, "W. Davenport, manager")—the paper was a copy of "Farm Life," in which there was a picture of the propeller and rudder of a vessel, underneath which was printed "Underpart of the stern and propeller of the first-class fishing ship, No. 212, belonging to the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate" (Ex. 15, read: Describing the nature of the propeller; stating that extensive experiments had been made by Mr. Davenport, the syndicate's manager, with a view to feeding poultry in general exclusively on fish, which experiments had been proved so successful that a large tract of land had been purchased by Mr. Davenport on which buildings had been erected by him for this purpose; stating the advantages of such diet for animals and that information would be given to interested persons on application to W. Davenport, 156, Stamford Street, S.E.)—I noticed that the number 212 corresponds with the number of the ship on my mortgage bond—the letter also enclosed a receipt form—on reading that paper I thought it looked very good and I wrote and proposed to invest another £50—I called at the office on September 15th and said I had looked at the reference in the paper, and I thought it was a very good thing for the syndicate, and I thought I should like to invest another £50—I gave him this cheque for that amount, dated September 11th, 1905 (Ex. 16)—I was not expecting profits, because he explained to me that they would not come until the vessel was put into commission—on the same day I received a receipt from him (Ex. 17)—I received a further mortgage bond from him, executed by "William Davenport" in the presence of "Vyvyan Henry Moyle, Clerk in Holy Orders, 2, St. Stephen's Square, London, W."—on October 1st another month's interest would be due, and I received a letter of October 5th from Davenport (Ex. 19, read: Stating that he found it was not possible to post off his lot before Monday, the 9th, for reasons given; that he wrote so that he (Walton) would not be anxious; that amongst other importants things would be the certificate of his bond entitling its owner to a monthly bonus as well as interest) on October 10th I received a letter from him enclosing P.O. for 15s. and a notice that the ship I had invested in was to be entitled to bonus
on October 15th (Ex. 20, read: Stating that the good news was that the syndicate was to be turned over to a limited company with a capital of about £100, 000; that he felt sure the interests of the members of the syntiate and the bondholders would be fully secured, but that no bondholdor need join unless he or she pleased; that he (Walton) would have as a limited company all usual facilities given by such companies for controlling all accounts, and that by his votes at meetings he joined in deciding important points, naming directors, etc.")—I wrote in reply to that on the same day (Ex. 22, read: Stating that he was under the impression that he would get free bonus on the July bond for £50, as stated in his (Davenport's) letter on September 14th, and when he called on him on the 15th he confirmed that impression; that he would be pleased to do his share in joining the proposed conversion into a limited company, and he was sure he (Davenport) would see to the safeguarding of the present bondholder's interests)—the police communicated with me at the end of October, and partly under their instructions I wrote this letter to Davenport of November 1st (Ex. 24, read): "When you are sending me the interest and bonus for last month please let me know if there is any chance of getting a further bond for £100, as I am getting some business settled soon and may be able to make an investment. I suppose I shall hear from you in the course of a few posts with monthly settlement. Yours, C. Walton. P.S. I hope the Shanklin is doing well since being put in commission for fishing"—in reply to that I got this letter of November 2nd from him (Ex. 25, read: Stating that a mistake had arisen from their last hurried conversation; that he had been entitled to bonus from the 15th of last month, which would be sent to him at the rate of £31 per £50 invested; that according to his memory this bonus would be on £100, making £30, which he would receive as per enclosed notice; that this method, though more expensive, had been adopted to avoid giving a chance to the papers to hint that they did not pay the bonus; and that he would be glad to let him have the privilege of extending his interests in the business, but that this must depend on the time it took him (Walton) to dear his accounts)—there was not a word about the Shanklin—with that came a document headed "Important Notice" (Ex. 26, read: Stating that owing to the fact that certain papers maliciously denied that they paid the bonus and interest each month, as advertised, it had been decided that for the month of October the bonus and interest would be sent by a chartered accountant in postal money orders; stating the reasons for taking the step and detailing how it was to be carried out)—I was never informed that the Shanklin had not been commissioned on October 15th—I received this letter from him on November 6th. headed: "Bonus, including interest for month of October, £31; this bonus is due for the following number of days, fifteen; total being sent to you by chartered accountant, £30" (Ex. 27, read: Stating that the above sum would be sent him by a chartered accountant in the course of a few days; enclosing prepared registered envelope for him to return his bond; and that he hoped to send him very soon important and interesting communications respecting the means of assuring the future prosperity of this syndicate and explaining the advisability of adopting this means)—no statement of account was included—accompanying that was a letter headed, "Deferred Payment
Bonds" (Ex. 28, read: A long letter explaining the deferred payment system)—at the same time came a request to send my mortgage back to the office (Ex. 29), but I did not do so—I then received this letter of November 8th, from Messrs. Blandford, Lawrence & Hann (Ex. 21, read: Enclosing a postal money order for £30 handed to them by Mr. Davenport as being his (Walton's) interest and share of profits for October)—at one time when I called I got this document, dated February, 1905 (Ex. 33, read: Stating that the manager of the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate respectfully reminded mortgagees that paragraph 11 of the agreement extended to other mortgagees, and it must be understood that the security resided in the mortgage instituted for the purposes of securing principal sum and interest)—my net loss was £70.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I cannot name any promise Davenport made that he did not fulfil—I have no idea why the police came into communication with me; it was before Messrs. Blandford sent the postal money order, so it could not be through them—I have been no party to any civil proceedings—from my careful reading of the prospectus I understood that the company would not only deal with fishing directly, but promote companies to do so—I had experience in dealing with shares—I cannot say how many years I have been investing in shares in public companies; not many cases—sometimes I have made a good investment and sometimes bad—I have not prosecuted the people with whom I invested money and lost it—this is not my prosecution—I know sometimes very large profits are made from promoting companies—I read in the prospectus that one of the appliances that this syndicate was dealing with was a special kind of trawling net—I did not go to the Fisheries Naval Exhibition—I was given to understand that there were models there to be seen, but I had no knowledge of what was there—I heard this from Davenport, and I could have gone and seen it if I had liked—he told me that Moyle was there explaining the apparatus, amongst it being this so-called life-restoring apparatus—what was said about that life-restoring apparatus had no influence on me as far as investing my money was concerned—I believed the statement, "The business of the syndicate is dealing with appliances directly or indirectly connected with shipping and fishing and promoting same"; Davenport added nothing to that—I thought well of the photograph of the propeller, but I have had no means of verifying it; it influenced my mind at the time—I thought it was likely to save money—I do not think I heard the evidence of Mr. Cubbin at the Police Court; I did not stop after giving my evidence—I thought the idea of feeding animals on fish was a good one, but I do not know if it was carried out; it may have been—I thought it was in an experimental stageem as regards my money, I looked upon the mortgage deed as security at good interest; I was not paying particular attention to the profits—£ looked at the blank form of deed that was first sent to me; it had no red printing, and I noticed that upon that the mortgages took rank in the order in which they were registered—according to the deed, the repayment of my principal is not due—everything that has become due has been paid to me up to the time of the prisoner's arrest.
MANTON OLD FIELD . I am a chemist, of Imperial Buildings 39, New Bridge Street, which is close to Ludgate Circus—I have known Moyle for some time past as a customer—he came in the summer of last year, bringing with him a number of documents which he left with me to read, at my leisure—one of them was a prospectus similar to this (Ex. 3), a document similar to this half yearly report (Ex. 4), and "Press Opinions" (Ex. 6)—I understood him to say he was a bondholder and that the syndicate had been very successful as far as he was concerned, and that he had the whole of his amount back again from the syndicate in interest and bonuses—I heard that more than once—I believed what he told me and the statements in the papers which he left, and I handed him a cheque drawn in Davenport's favour for £50, dated August 10th—I do not know that when I handed him that cheque that he told me the amount he had invested at that time, but they had been very successful so far—my dealings with Davenport were entirely through Moyle—Moyle gave me a receipt (Ex. 96): "Received of Mr. Oldfield cheque for £50 for one mortgage bond in the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling Fishing Syndicate of £50 for Mr. Davenport, with thanks. V. H. Moyle. 10-8-05. £50"—within a short time he brought me the mortgage bond with a letter (Ex. 97; Enclosing mortgage bond for £50 cheque handed him yesterday, stating that he heartily wished him all success therewith, and asking him to acknowledge receipt lot filing in the offices. Signed, "V. H. Moyle")—I retained that mortgage bond for some time," but I did not register it—he visited me between August 11th and September 28th, when occasionally I had conve rsations with regard to the continued success of the venture—on September 28th I gave him another cheque for £25, payable to Davenport (Ex. 98) for the purpose of making a further investment in the syndicate—on September 29th I had this letter from Davenport (Ex. 99, read: Stating that the Rev. V. H. Moyle had handed him his application for a £25 mortgage bond and cheque for £25; requesting him to alter his application from nine years to eight years, as eight years was the longest limit allowed; and that the bond would be executed and sent to him in due course)and later the bond was sent me for this additional share—I believe at one time Movie told me the value of the Shanklin was between £3,000 and £4,000; that was the vessel named in my bond—on October 21st, at Movie's request, I handed him my bonds to be returned to the office to be registered, and he gave me this receipt for them (Ex. 100)—I did not see any more of them—within a short tune Moyle told me he wanted an introduction to a firm of chartered accountants to distribute the bonuses, and I eventually introduced him to the firm of Blandford, Lawrence & Hann—after that I received a bonus of £22 10s.—I saw Davenport once at his office in Stamford Street; I was expecting some interest which was due to me at a certain date—Moyle introduced him to me; I suppose I was there ten minutes—this was, I should think, early in September—Moyle was at the office when I arrived—my interest was paid; it was simply behind—Moyle had been coming to my premises for four years; and before I was there myself—I understood him to be a clergyman; he told me he was—my mortgage was in the same form as Mr. Walton's and upon the
same vessel—on the one occasion that I saw Davenport he never told me he was a discharged bankrupt, nor did Moyle tell me that he was either.
Cross-examined by MR. MUM. I saw Davenport about a month before I parted with my second instalment—the conversation with him was on quite trivial matters, but I do not remember it at all.
Cross-examined by MR. COOMBE. My first interview on this matter was August 10th—I had known him as a fairly regular customer for two and a half years—I understood he lived at St. Stephen's Square, Westminster—he did not volunteer any information what he was doing down in the City, and it was not my province to ask him—they were all cash transactions I had with him—he did not tell me he was employed by the syndicate—he told me personally that he had invested money in it, which had helped him with his charities—he also told me that friends of his had invested, and he mentioned the name of Mr. Sheriff Bowater, which considerably influenced me—I have seen Mr. Bowater, and he told me that he was an investor—Moyle said he was a vicar in some parish in Berkshire, and I assumed that it was Berkshire that he was referring to—I think he did tell me what he invested, but I would not like to say for certain; it seems uppermost in my mind that it was £50; I think he told me so himself—whatever I said at the Police Court, I say now—I said then, "He did not say he was going to invest if he came into some money"—I am most emphatic that he told me he had invested, and the same statement was made when I introduced him to a gentleman on my premises who would have nothing to do with it—he he is not coming here to-day—he told me he got a commission for inducing persons to invest, but I am not talking about that when I say he told me he had an interest in the matter—I read the papers before Moyle spoke to me about the matter in detail: my mind was not quite made up then—what went to make up my mind were partly statements in the papers, and partly his statements, and partly the fact that he told me Mr. Sheriff Bowater and his other friends had invested—I learnt from him that the syndicate would have some interest in certain trawling inventions, life-saving apparatus and so on.
Re-examined. I am not quite certain whether he told me he had procured Mr. Sheriff Bowater to become an investor; I fancy that he had myself—this gentleman whom I introduced him to asked Moyle if he was satisfied with what he had invested in the concern, and he said he was perfectly satisfied—the gentleman evidently was not, because he did not invest.
Friday, February 9th.
LUCY CARLYLE . I am the wife of the Rev. Mr. Carlyle, of 5, Camden Grove, Kensington—in August I saw an advertisement in the "Daily Mirror" similar to this advertisement in the "Daily Chronicle" (Ex. 106, read): "£1 a day and 12 per cent, a year for each £50, withdraw able deposit. Minimum £25. Maximum £1,000. Capital and interest absolutely secured by British mortgage bonds. Third year of continually increasing
success. The bonus for each £50 mortgage bond entitled to monthly interest, and bonus has been in 1903, £293 5s.; in 1904, £320 5s.; in the first six months of 1905, £183 17s. 9d. Prospectus free. Write Dept 9, South Coast Syndicate, 156, Stamford Street, London, S.E."—I wrote to that address and in reply I received a number of documents, amongst them being Exhibit 41a, which purports to be a prospectus, "Fifth and Last Issue, September, 1905" [MR. MUIR stated that it seemed to be substantially the same prospectus as that sent to Mr. Walton, but that it embodied the half-yearly report], and Exhibit 40a, a picture of the propeller of the first-class fishing steamer No. 212 of the South & South-West Coast Steam Trawling & Fishing Syndicate, and a copy of favourable press opinions similar to this (Ex. 6)—I do not remember getting one of these blank forms (Ex. 5)—I got this letter from 2, St. Stephen's Square, London, W., dated August 31st, 1905, a few days after receiving those documents—I did not knew Moyle before this (Ex. 111, read: Stating that as there seemed to be a genuine tone about her letter he had advised Mr. Davenport to send her what she asked for; that he was a clergyman of the Church of England and was therefore bound to caution this testimony; that he considered the syndicate worthy of full and serious consideration; that he had persuaded some old friends of his, a Viscount and a City official of high standing, all hard-headed men who would not even for their friendship for him have invested in the same if they had had any doubts as to any future liability; advising her to visit the syndicate's stand in the yachting section at Earl's Court, and if she would make an appointment there between 3 and 6 he would give her all the information she desired; that he was sending one of his circulars about a book he was writing, not asking her to subscribe, but simply to show his standing; and that he lately took part in a marriage ceremony at St. Mary Abbots Church. Signed, "Rev. V. H. Moyle") [MR. COOMBE admitted this to be in the handwriting of Moyle]—I sent a cheque to Davenport for £25 (Ex. 112) with this letter (Ex. 113, read: That she and her husband had gone through the prospectus very carefully, from which they understood that capital and interest were secured and that investors had no liability whatever, and on that understanding she was sending cheque for £25; that she was enclosing application form duly filed up; that there was a chance of her having more capital, which would enable her to invest further, and that she supposed in a month's time she would receive first interest and bonus)—this is my application form taken off the prospectus sent to me (Ex. 114)—I wrote to Moyle on September 7th (Ex. 115, read: Thanking him for his letter, and that she had received prospectus and letters from Mr. Davenport; that on the strength of what he, Mr. Davenport, and the prospectus stated about the syndicate she had invested £25, and that if she had known of this syndicate a few months ago she could have invested much more)—I addressed the envelope to "The Rev. V. H. Moyle, 2, St. Stephen's Square, London, W.," and I see now that has been crossed out and "Post Restante, General Post Office," has been substituted; that had nothing to do with me—I received a mortgage bond charging me with a share in the steamship Shanklin, signed by W, Davenport and attested by C. Johnson—I believed that the Shanklin
was a proper vessel—I took no steps to register my mortgage at the Customs House; I do not know that I noticed the little marginal note as to that—after I invested, my husband saw the bond—I noticed something in red ink to the effect that the boat had been registered on September 16th at the Port of London—I sent it to Davenport a few days before I received my bonus, and never received it back—on September 8th I received another letter from Moyle (Ex. 117: Stating that he was glad to learn she had become an investor; that if he had not full faith and experimental faith in it he would not have put three old and valued friends into it, and some more were coming also; advising her to go to Earl's Court, where he gave daily lecturettes on the principle of a life-saving apparatus connected with the syndicate, an invention of Davenport's, and that if she would let him know when she and her friends were likely to be there he would make a point of being there to explain it. Signed, "V. H. Moyle")—I do not remember that I noticed in particular he signed himself "Rev. V. H. Moyle" in Exhibit 111; I knew he was a reverend gentleman—that influenced me, because my husband is a clerk in Holy Orders—I went to the Naval Exhibition—I saw Moyle and said, "If I wish to put more money in can I see the balance sheet?"—I meant my solicitors really—he said it had always been in the hands of the syndicate and that I could not see it—he said he had seen it—I understood he was a member of the syndicate, but I cannot remember what it was that made me think so—I had a request from Davenport to send my bond in, and on November 8th I wrote, enclosing it (Ex. 118, read: Enclosing bond to be registered, and stating that she noted from his letter that £7 10s. was due to her for October, and that she would be glad if he would send her that amount by Saturday)—on October 31st I received this letter from Moyle (Ex. 120, read: Stating in reply to her letter of the 30th that as she was already a mortgage bondholder every consideration would be shown to her by the managing director, Mr. Davenport, and that the company would be registered during the coming months; that the balance sheet was the property of the syndicate members only, and they kept to that rule, and generally as to a scheme for providing cooked fish tor the poorer classes, and asking to give his kind regards to "Mr. C" Signed, "F. H. Moyle")—"Mr. C." is my husband—I never saw Davenport; all my communications were with Moyle—I was not informed when I parted with my money that Davenport was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. When I wrote the letter of November 8th, returning my bond to be registered, I did not notice that the red ink form on it had not been filled in—the bond is dated at the end, September 11th, 1905—the red printing is filled in with the date of November 18th [MR. MATHEWS pointed out that it was September 16th]—in my letter of September 6th, when I say that I "understand from prospectus and your letters," I meant Moyle's letters, I should think—I saw some apparatus when I went to the Naval Exhibition, but it was not uncovered: I went about 4 p.m.—I saw a Japanese doll later, and some people were standing by—that did not influence my mind at all—I did not see any travelling apparatus—I am not sure whether I saw models there—there might have been models of ships trawling a net, but I did not notice
them—Moyle was dressed as a clergyman then—my reason for investing was that I thought there would be a fair interest and some bonus; I did not expect such a large bonus as they promised; I expected that some months it would be less and some more.
Cross-examined by MR. COOMBE. I saw Moyle twice, once at Earl's Court and once at my house—at Earl's Court he spoke principally about the syndicate—he repeated what he had written me—he told me he was working for the syndicate in explaining the life-saving apparatus, and I was there when he did lecture—he lectured for about ten minutes—he illustrated from this Japanese doll the artificial respiration which could, be brought about in a person who was apparently dead—I do not remember the particular leaflet, where it said that if a person was actually dead he could be restored to life; I cannot say whether they were on exhibition there at all—we also had a conversation on various things not connected with the models, and on the work the syndicate intended to do, and of the idea of the syndicate's to sell snacks of fish to poor people in London—I cannot remember that he explained to me he had been interested in various charities in the country—I remember him saying that he was particularly interested in the humane aspect of the proposal to sell fish to poor people—I thought he had money in the syndicate; he did not tell me he had—he did not give me the impression of being an employe—I do not know if he was paid for this lecturing work—he was twenty minutes at my house when he came to see me—in any mention he made of the syndicate he might have referred to Davenport, but I do not remember that he said Davenport—I do not think he talked about Davenport and the syndicate more or less indiscriminately—I cannot be sure that he did not tell me he was in the syndicate.
Re-examined. The address of the syndicate was up at Earl's Court—in the course of the lecture I did not hear any reference to the syndicate or whom it was who was interested in it.
LEONARD CHARLES CHERRY . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I recognise Davenport as C. H. Wells, a man who was adjudicated bankrupt on March 9th, 1903, with liabilities of £978 7s. 10d. [MR. MUIR objected to the figures being given on the ground that they were wholly immaterial and were only introduced for the purpose of prejudice. The learned Judge said that he could not exclude them]—the assets were estimated to rank at £5,423 5s. 2d. and realised £88 0s. 2d.—no dividend has ever been paid, and he is still undischarged.
WILLIAM HENRY SHEPHERD . I am the Chief Clerk of the Reading County Court—I know Moyle and I produce the file in his bankruptcy—there was a receiving order made on November 3rd, 1894, and the adjudication followed on November 14th—the statement of affairs was filed on December 18th, 1894, showing gross liabilities at £625, all expected to rank, and his assets 16s.—he is still undischarged.
By the COURT. He was then vicar of Ashampstead, nine miles from Reading.
I saw this advertisement in the "Daily Chronicle" (Ex. 106, see p. 738) and I wrote for a prospectus—I received one like this (Ex. 3) and some press notices like this (Ex. 6)—I wrote to 156, Stamford Street, and in reply I received this letter, signed "V. H. Moyle," dated September 14th, 1905, addressed from 2, St. Stephen's Square, London, W. (Ex. 107, read: Stating that Mr. Davenport had informed him that he had heard from 'him'; that he (Moyle) was well acquainted with the business, and before his ordination as a clergyman of the Church of England was a frequent yachting and amateur trawling man, and had so become acquainted with this pleasurable occupation; enclosing a cutting from a circular about a book he was writing, to show his reliability and position; stating that 'he' could not do better than to invest in this excellent business, and that three old and valuable friends of his had become investors for substantial sums)—he took me for a male—having received that letter, on September 19th I sent £50 in £5 notes to Davenport at 156, Stamford Street—they were practically the whole of my savings, but not quite—I believed then the statements made in the printed documents sent me, and Moyle's letter made me think it was safe—on September 20th I received a letter from Davenport, addressed, "Miss Amy E. Elliot" (Ex. 108, read: Stating that he was pleased she had taken at least one bond in that last issue and last chance, and felt sure she would be fully satisfied with the results, and that the bond would be sent her in a few posts)—it had a receipt at the bottom of it—on September 25th I received the mortgage bond, accompanied by a letter from Davenport (Ex. 109, read: Enclosing 12 per cent, mortgage bond with bonus and monthly settlement; stating that he had all the more reason to believe she would be fully satisfied with her investment and giving his reasons; that he hoped in two or three weeks to give her more information and the option of obtaining the advantages he named without any further outlay of cash; enclosing a copy of the prospectus of their fifth and last issue, in case she wished to make a further investment)—the bond (Ex. 110) purports to be upon the Shanklin for two shares; it bears Davenport's signature attested by Charles Johnson—it is dated September 20th and purports to be registered on September 23rd—on October 10th I received 3s. interest and on November 11th a bonus of £15—£38 represents my loss—I never saw Davenport—I did not know he was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I went for advice to my solicitor, but he was away—I had no one to help me—it seemed a very good interest and then Mr. Moyle's letter came, so it seemed to be very good—I had not made up my mind to invest before I received that letter; the letter settled it—I am a member of the Church of England, and the fact that he was a clergyman influenced me a great deal.
DAVENPORT here PLEADED GUILTY to the first ten counts of the indictment relating to the false pretences.
MOYLE PLEADED GUILTY to the conspiracy counts. The Jury returned a verdict to that effect.
DAVENPORT, against whom a previous conviction was proved, from which he was liberated on March 1th, 1899— Three years' penal servitude.
A previous conviction was proved against MOYLE, from which he was liberated on October 19th, 1878, when, MR. COOMBE stated, he was given a vicarage, the
circumstances of hit conviction having been brought to the knowledge of the Bishop, who was now dead, but who gave him another chance as a repentant man— Eighteen months' hard labour.
The COURT commended the conduct of the police.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, February 7th, 8th, and 9th, 1906.
Before His Honour Judge Rentoul, Commissioner.
MR. WATERLOW Prosecuted; MR. BASIL WATSON Defended.
JAMES WILBURN . I deal in wood and coke at 68, Stanley Road, Stratford—on January 13th I was in Dorset Street—all I remember is that I had been on a moving job for an old lady, and when I had done moving her I had a couple of glasses—I left my companions, and was walking along, making no disturbance, when I was knocked down, and felt somebody's hands down my pockets—he tore the pocket and took every penny—these are the same trousers—I had in my pocket between 4s. and 5s.
Cross-examined. I was alone when I was knocked down—I am not sure, but I believe it was Dorset Street—I must have had 4s. in my pocket, because I had 6s. when I left my comrades about half an hour before—I had been to one or two public-house—I cannot tell you the time or whether it was 7 or 9—it was rather dark down Dorset Street.
BEN CROSS . I am seventeen years old—I live in Fryingpan Alley and am a printer's assistant—on Saturday night, January 13th, I was standing at the corner of Fryingpan Lane in Bell Lane, near Commercial Road—I saw the prisoner holding the prosecutor with one hand over his mouth, and another man, not the prisoner, put his hands into the prosecutor's pocket, and run away, taking the money—I next saw the prisoner at Worship Street, when I recognised him—I had not seen him before.
Cross-examined. I was not more than a couple of yards away when I saw the prisoner in the middle of the road—I was on the pavement—the prisoner was bending over the prosecutor—the time was 10.46 or 11 p.m.—the prisoner was wearing a cap—I saw him walking along to the station in custody—I saw no women—no one ran after the other man.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that the man I saw ten minutes afterwards was the man I had seen in the street.
ALFRED SOLOMONS . I am a furrier, of 3, St. Ann's Place, Wentworth Streets-on January 13th I was in Bell Lane about 10.45—I saw the prosecutor on the "floor" and the prisoner on the top of him—two other men were standing there as well—I think they were in company—two women were standing on the opposite side of the road—another man was going down the prosecutor's pockets—the others ran away—I kept this one in sight for 300 or 400 yards, the police behind me, and I helped the constable to stop him—I did not lose sight of him—his face is rather familiar, but I cannot say where I have seen him.
Cross-examined. I first saw the prisoner across the road—I saw two women, and two other men—the red-headed boy (Cross) was standing on the side of the road—he may not have seen the women, but they were there—I followed the prisoner through four streets and helped to arrest him in Tenter Street—I think he had a bowler hat on—he had been knocked about—he was covered with dust—I did not notice him limp as he ran; I had sight of him the whole distance—he did not tell the policeman that he had been knocked about and that was why he ran away—I think 1s. 11d. was found on him—I think there are three lamp posts in Bell Lane, and a light from the wall—it is about 80 yards long—what first attracted my attention was the shouting in the street—I have not said that this happened in Wentworth Street—I never mentioned to the police that I knew one of the women—the prisoner was the first I kept observation on, and I followed him—at Worship Street he accused me of knocking him about.
Re-examined. Bell Lane is a narrow street—it is not difficult to see from, one side to the other at night.
OLIVER TURNER (368 H.) On January 13th, about 10.45 p.m., I heard some shouting for police in Bell Lane—I proceeded there and saw the prisoner and another man, not in custody, on the prosecutor about 50 yards away—two young men, when they saw me, shouted, and the two on the prosecutor ran away—I went to the prosecutor and asked what was the matter—he said, "They have knocked me down and robbed me"—I then chased the prisoner through several streets, and caught him in Tenter Street—I told him I should take him to the station for being concerned in robbing the prosecutor—he turned round and began to struggle—someone in the crowd blew my whistle, and with the assistance of two or three more constables I took him to the station—when he was charged he said, "I had no money; I had to borrow 1s. 6d. from Mr. Kyd"—1s. 11 1/2 d. was found on him when searched.
Cross-examined. I first saw the struggle 15 to 20 yards away—I only lost sight of the prisoner a few moments in rounding the corners—he said, some Jew had kicked him, and that he had made a complaint at the Police Court, but I could not find out about that—I reported that to my superior officer in Commercial Street, and inquiries were made—I heard the prisoner say at Worship Street that he had been knocked about by some Jews—Bell Lane is not a back street, and it is lighted by incandescent lamps—I was standing at the corner about 30 yards away—I could not identify the other man.
Re-examined. When I came up the men were running away in different directions—I saw two young women and the prisoner and another man—two men were struggling with the prosecutor, who was on the ground.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "When I was charged the policeman said he see nothing of the affair till I was taken up to Bell Lane, and two Jew fellows kicked me, and I ran to get away from the Jews because they are always attacking me. Will you kindly read this paper? The man said I did not rob him, and he knew nothing about it; I am absolutely innocent."
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said he knew nothing of the robbery, end that he was running away from Jews, who were always attaching him because he had stopped a man who had committed a robbery, and he had made a complaint at Commercial Street police station to that effect.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on September 7th, 1897. Seven other convictions were proved against him, but the police stated that he had before this offence been in employment. Eighteen months' hard labour.
MR. LEYCSTER and MR. WHITELEY Prosecuted; MR. LYONS Defended
Clarke and MR. STEWART Defended Cole.
JAMES CLARKE (337 H.) On December 2nd I was on duty in uniform in Carr Street, Limehouse, between Saturday night and Sunday morning—the public-houses close on Saturday night at 12—after they had shut up a number of men were standing outside the Salisbury Arms; about four went away, but others were left, who started singing and shouting—the prisoners, whom I have known about three years, were among these—I said, "Go easy, chaps; don't make too much noise"—Clarke said, "I suppose this means a blister"—I had summoned him—at the same time he caught me a left-handed blow with his right fist, and Cole hit me on the other side of the head with his fist—by the two blows at the same time I was knocked to the ground—Clarke made me a running kick in the stomach, and said, "Take that"—I was kicked in the pit of the stomach when I was on the ground—I got up, but I was hardly up when I was knocked down again—I got up again, and with my back against the wall drew my truncheon and hit out as well as I could was pulled backwards—there were six of them, and when I was on the ground again Cole said, "Hold up, and I'll pay him for you"—I remembered no more till I was in a butcher's shop—I was also kicked in the side, and I feel it now—I felt it when I received it—I became unconscious, but I remember the butcher closing the door, and I was allowed to sit down a few minutes, when I went out at the back through a large hole in the wall, and I do not remember anything more till I found myself at the station—Inspector Cross was on duty, but how I found my way there I cannot tell you—I next found myself in bed, where I was for five days—I have been attended by a doctor ever since—I am not yet fit for duty—I suffer great pains inside, on my right side, and on the hip, where I fell—Clarke was summoned on July 5th at the Thames Police Court, when he said, "Wait till we get you down Carr Street, and we will do you in for this."
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. Clarke did not say, "I do not want no blister off you, Nobby"—he said, "I suppose this means another blister"—I got a blow on the right side of my head behind the ear—I did not use my truncheon till I had been knocked down, when I stood against the wall—this statement is not correct: "He said, 'You do not want to tend no blister,' then the officer pulled out his stick and struck me, and that is how much I ran after you"—I do not know the butcher; he is a stringer—if the butcher says, "The policeman rushed into my shop," it is not
correct—it is not a window where I got out, but a large hole in the wall, about 7 feet high, and there is a copper under it—I was assisted up, and I stepped down on to some palings outside, which are about 3 or 4 feet from the ground; I held on to the palings and got down by myself as well as I could—I do not know when, but I found out afterwards that I had hit Clarke on the head—I struck him as hard as I could—I did not see him fall, because as soon as I struck him I was pulled over myself—it is true that I saw him on his legs after that—the butcher's shop is about 5 yards from where I was knocked down, and about 25 or 30 yards from where the first assault was—it would be incorrect to say it was 20 yards.
Cross-examined by MR. STEWART. I have been six and a half years in the police force—I have made a mistake in identification, but not in this case, and that only once, when I was assaulted, and over that summons—then it was daylight, about 4.30 p.m.—I next saw Cole at the Thames Police Court—he was not put with other men for identification, because it was not necessary—I was assaulted without the slightest provocation—Cole struck me as hard as he could—I do not say he struck the first time—after that my senses were not clear for a minute, and there were six men around me—after I got up from the ground I tried to cross the road, and when I got against the wall I was pulled over in front of the butcher's shop—I did not observe only these two men when I first spoke to them—when I saw Cole afterwards at the police station I had not the least doubt about him.
Re-examined. I have known the prisoners over three years, hanging about public-houses, and by name—on the occasion of the summons Clarke was fined 8s. 6d. and 2s. costs; it was another prisoner named Hone who was acquitted—of course I have to admit I am wrong if the Magistrate says so, but I have my own opinion—on this occasion I lost my truncheon, my whistle, and my helmet, and my overcoat was torn up the back—I tried to blow my whistle, but after I was knocked down the second time my whistle chain was broken.
WILLIAM CROTHALL (199 H.) In the early morning of December 3rd I was on duty in Carr Street—somebody gave me information from which I went towards the Salisbury Arms—I saw a great crowd, and then I went towards the butcher's shop in Carr Street, where I searched for Constable Clarke, but he had gone out the back way—I went round to Moreen Street and found him In a practically unconscious condition, supported by another constable, and two private persons—I got him to the station, where he made a statement, alter which I and other officers went to 116, Eastfield Street, where the prisoner Clarke lives—I knew his address when the other constable gave me the name of Clarke—we arrived there shortly before 1.30 a.m—he had his trousers on, a cap on his head, which was bandaged, and appeared to have been bleeding—Harman, who was with me, asked him what was the matter with his head—he said."The bleeding copper done it"—he was brought downstairs and handed over to other officers outside—we then went to Cole's house at 142, Eastfield Street, which is on the other side of the road—Cole was in bed, and appeared to be asleep—we woke him up—I said, "I shall arrest you for causing grievous
bodily harm with Robert Clarke, and another man shortly after 12 last night in Carr Street"—he said, "Oh, all right"—he appeared very dazed, as through he had recovered from drink—I asked him if he perfectly understood what he was arrested for—he said, "I done nothing; I can prove I did not run away"—he was undressed—I asked him to dress—he said, "If you want to dress me, dress me yourself"—he put his trousers on, but we had trouble to get him downstairs—he was very violent and resisted outside, and it took three men to get him to the station—when we got him there he was subsequently charged—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. About eighteen constables were present when we took these two men to the station—Clarke was in bed, but he had his trousers and his cap on, but no coat, vest, boots or shoes—the bandage on his head was wet, as if it had been bleeding from injury inflicted within the last hour or hour and a half—we put no more clothes on him, knowing the man's character—he asked to be allowed to put his boots on—he had his stockings or socks on, but no boots or shoes—neither of us said to him, "We will dress you; come on"—the prisoners' houses are about 100 yards apart—it took us no more than two or three minutes to go from one house to the other—it took several minutes to get Cole out, but Clarke was detained until Cole was in the street, and both were conveyed to the station practically at the same time—Clarke did not get a blow on the head, either accidentally or otherwise—his head was bleeding when he came down the stairs—when we removed" the bandage we saw that his head had been bleeding—no more force was used than was necessary—at the Police Court Clarke said, "Don't you think I have enough to do with my head now without your hitting me?"—I did not see him kicked—I did not see a man and a woman come out of a passage as we were going along with Clarke in custody—I did not see a young fellow bring Clarkes coat and boots—I did not notice anything with regard to Clarke's trousers at the station.
Cross-examined by MR. STEWART. I do not know why Constable Clarke was called "Nobby" Clarke—a constable may use his truncheon when life is in danger, not when a person strikes him, unless the blow is severe—Cole was examined by a police doctor at the police station—he had a discoloured and blood-shot eye when he was taken into custody—it became blacker afterwards—he said it had been done about 11 that night—I did not notice his back—I have been six or seven years in the force.
GEORGE HARMAN (428 H.) I went with the last witness to Clarke's house—we went to his room, and found he was on the bed with his clothes on—I woke him up and told him we were police officers, and should arrest him for assaulting Police Constable Clarke in Carr Street—he said, "I was not there"—I said, "How did you get that cut on the head?"—he said, "The bleeding copper did it"—he was taken downstairs and afterwards to the station—he went quietly, without violence; he tried several times to get away, but there was not much chance of that.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. He had on his trousers, stockings and shirt—he was asked to put on his vest; to dress himself—he did not ask
to dress himself, nor did the officer reply, "We will dress you; come on"—I never used those words—I did not see a man and a woman come out of Church Passage, but on the way to the station we met several people I did not notice—I did not notice a boy following with his coat, vest, and boots—just before we got to the station I saw a man with some clothes—some plain-clothes officers were there—I saw blood come from the prisoner Clarke's head, I did not notice the inside of his trousers, nor any smell—I cannot say if he had made a motion on the way—he said something to that effect, but I did not see it.
Cross-examined by MR. STEWART. After Cole was pulled out of bed he said he was not there—he was pulled out of bed because he would not get out—he was not treated with violence—he had a black eye when taken into custody—I did not see any marks on his back—he was taken to the station without more violence than was necessary to hold him—he tried to get away; he did not protest against the way he was being treated.
Thursday, February 8th.
GEORGE MUSTO (48 H.R.) On December 3rd I went to Eastfield Street with Crothall and Harman—I took Clarke from No. 116 to the station, which is about ten minutes' walk—I was with him the whole time—no violence was used—Joseph Hicks was with me—I did not strike Clarke—if there were any marks of violence on him it was not caused by me in any way—he was partially dressed—it is rather a roughish neighbourhood, and I believe there had been some trouble in getting him downstairs—he went to the station as he was—I saw him at the street door—I took him in the passage as he was brought down and handed to me.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I believe he had his socks on—I would not be sure if he had a bandage on his head, but it was bleeding—he went quietly to the station—I took him all the way—I saw nobody in uniform come up behind him and kick him.
JOSEPH HICKS (385 H.) I went with other officers to 116, Eastfield Street, on the morning of December 3rd, but did not go up to the bedroom—the prisoner Clarke was handed over to me and Musto, and we took him to the station—no violence was used to him in my presence—I did not see any constable assault him in any way—he was dressed in his trousers and shirt—he had no socks.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I did not notice any socks on him—he went quietly to the station—I did not see anybody kick him, not even anyone in plain clothes.
G. HARMAN (Re-examined). I said to Clarke, "Get up and put on your things"—he had his trousers, shirt, and cap on in bed—I told him to dress himself—he refused to do so—his wife came and asked him for his money that he had in his trousers pocket—he said, "You can take it," and she took it out of his pocket—after he had refused to put on other clothes I took him downstairs and handed him over to other officers—the neighbourhood is very rough.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. The prisoner did not ask if he might dress himself—we asked him to dress, and he refused—I did not take
the bandage off his head—he had his cap over it—it was on when he was handed downstairs.
HENRY FROST (Inspector H.) On December 3rd, at 12.45, Constable Clarke was brought into the station—he appeared to be in a state of collapse from injuries to the stomach—the prisoners were brought in about 2 o'clock—after Constable Clarke had been taken home I went to his house and took his statement—I went back to the station and read the statement to the prisoners—Cole said, "I never struck the constable; fetch the witnesses"—Clarke said, "About 12.10 Nobby Clarke came up to the corner of the street and said 'Good-evening' to me; there was an argument and he said, 'Get away out of it.' I said, 'You do not want to send another blister,' meaning a summons. With that he pulled out his stick and struck me; that is how much I ran after him"—I then charged them—they made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. When the prisoner Clarke was brought in he was bleeding from the head—I did not detect any smell in his trousers—no complaints were made.
Cross-examined by MR. STEWART."Nobby Clarice" was in a state of collapse and hardly able to give a consecutive story at that moment.
Re-examined. He gave his statement afterwards.
CHARLES GRAHAM GRANT . I am Police Surgeon to the H division—on December 3rd I saw Constable Clarke at the police station about 12.15 a.m.—he was then in considerable distress, apparently from injuries to his abdomen—he complained of contusions about the position of the navel and on the right elbow; his puise was 108 per minute—I saw him to his-house and visited him the next day—I was sent for the same evening before his removal to his house because he had had a fainting fit—he was removed to his house on an ambulance—on the 4th he complained of pain in passing water—his abdomen seemed sensitive, though less than it had been—on the 5th he passed a motion with streaks of blood in it—I did not see it, as his wife threw it away, forgetting my instructions to the contrary—on the 7th he passed another motion with some half-digested blood in it, which I did see—he then made progress as I thought, and I put him on duty again, but he was unable to remain on duty, as I happened to see him in the street and could tell that he was quite unfit for his work, therefore I sent him to the head sergeant—he has practically been on the sick list over two months—his internal organs had been injured and probably the intestines—you do not find bruising in the abdomen, because there is no hard surface behind to injure, but only soft tissues; that is to say, no bone except at a very great depth—about 2.15 a.m. the same day I saw the prisoner Clarke, who was suffering from a lacerated scalp wound on the left side on the heads an inch and a half in length—it was a typical truncheon wound—I examined Cole also: he was suffering from contusions about the shoulders and a contused eye which had been inflicted some time before I saw him, and when I saw him at 2.15 he told me that his black eye had been inflicted earlier, but was made worse in coming to the station—a black eye changes its colour, but I inferred from what the prisoner said, and the appearance
of the eye, that it had been inflicted about 11 o'clock—any injury behind the prisoner Clarke's ear might have been overlooked by me, as I only examined him casually at the station, but he certainly did not complain to me of anything behind his ears—that was the first time I saw him.
Cross-examined by MR. LYONS. I have no note to the effect of any mark near the ear of the prisoner Clarke, but I would not like to contradict his statement if he said that he received a blow—a motion in his trousers might be caused by a blow from a truncheon or even without it, by what is called "funk, owing to the nervous condition, just as if you put your foot to a dog it will pass water—Cole complained of his back—the prisoner Clarke drew my attention to his trousers—I think I have said that Clarke did complain of his back—so far as I recollect, the words he used were, "Look what they have done for me"—I did look and I assumed what he meant was a motion in his trousers—that was the expression he used.
Cross-examined by MR. STEWART. I saw Cole the next day at the Police Court—I believe he had a black eye—I was unable to say how recently it had been inflicted—I saw him within half an hour of his being brought to the station, or twenty minutes, and I do not think a blow had been inflicted on his eye within that time, because of its being so discoloured—I saw Clarke at 2.15 and Cole subsequently.
Re-examined. Clarke was in a state of great excitement—he had a bad scalp wound.
Clarke, in his defence on oath, said that Constable Clarke came up to the people who had just left the public-house, in a very unfriendly manner and told them to clear away out of it; that he (the prisoner) said, "I don't want no more blisters from you"; that the constable then struck him on the head with his truncheon and knocked him to the ground; that he was taken home, and had his head dressed; that when the police came he asked to be allowed to dress himself, but that the constable said."We will dress you; come on," and he was taken downstairs as he was; that a friend followed with his clothes to the station, but the police said, "We will clothe you if you are not out of it"; that he had not even his socks on; that he complained to the surgeon about his back after he had dressed his head; and that he never struck the constable at all.
Evidence for Clarke.
JAMES FRANCIS . On December 3rd I was in Eastfield Street with my wife—I saw ten or twelve people, and Constable Clarke spoke to the prisoner Clarke, who said, "I do not want no blisters off you," when the constable hit him with his truncheon and ran off into a butcher shop about twenty yards off, and blew his whistle.
Cross-examined. I am a door porter—I know Constable Clarke by sight; I am friendly and have talked with him—I know the prisoners—I had been in the public-house about 7.30 and stopped there until 8 o'clock, when I went back to my missis and we went out shopping from 10 till 12.15, when my missis came out of the chandler's shop, where she had been making a few purchases—I believe the constable was under the "influence of intoxication"—I did not go to the police station and make
a complaint, because it was no use—I went to the Police Court, but was not called upon—Cole asked me to give evidence when I told him what I saw, and he said, "Why don't you come up and say to?" so I came here—I was first asked about this case while proceedings were going on at the Police Court.
HARRY PAUL . About 12.90 a.m. on December 3rd I took the prisoner Clarke home to his own place where he lives—I saw him lying in the road with his face on the ground, and unconscious—I took him to his mother's house and then to his own house—I dressed a cut from which he was bleeding very much.
Cross-examined. I never saw any struggle.
HENRY PRICE . I am a carman, of 31, Carr Street, Limehouse—on December 3rd in the early morning I was near the Salisbury Arms—I noticed Constable Clarke go amongst six or seven people who were standing on the pavement, one of whom was the prisoner Clarke, whom I heard say, "I do not want no more blisters off of you"—with that I Constable Clarke hit him on the head with his truncheon and he fell down in the road and the constable ran about twenty yards and into a butcher's shop.
Cross-examined. I did not know the six or seven men, but I knew Clarke's voice—there was no argument—I did not attend the Police-Court—the prisoner Clarke asked me to come here—I made no complaint; I simply went home after I see it done—there was no assault on the constable; he ran away—he walked out from the road to the pavement—when he went into the butcher's shop he was not injured to my knowledge—I did not see anybody hit the constable or kick him in the stomach; I only saw him go into the butcher's shop—I saw no one on the ground.
AUGUSTUS ZOLLER . I am a butcher, of 49, Carr Street, Stepney—on Sunday, December 3rd, about midnight, when I was about shutting the door of my shop the policeman ran in; I shut the door and shut him in—I did not know him—that is the man (Constable Clarke)—he asked me for permission to go out through the back, and I sent my man with him to show him the way—I went afterwards and saw him get through a window, which is about 7 feet from the floor, and there is a copper about 3 feet high—he got on the copper and out through the window by himself—there is no glass in the window; it is open like a skylight to let light into the back—I cannot say what drop there is outside; I have not looked.
Cross-examined. I was at the door when the constable came—it was open, as I had not shut up the shop—it had been open all day while business was on—nobody was with the unstable—plenty of people were in the street—I cannot speak to the character of the neighbourhood, as I am a stranger—when the constable got into the shop he did not sit down; he asked for permission to get out; he asked the way—I snowed him the way out at the back—about ten minutes afterwards another constable came and I shut the door, because I did not want any more in.
Cole, in his defence on oath, said that he was not there and knew nothing about the assault; that he was at home at 12.30 on the Saturday night till
the officers came to him when he was in bed and said, "You have done something now; you've gone and killed a copper"; that they would not allow him to dress and that he was assaulted on the way to the station, but he did not know by whom he was struck; that he had had a black eye which had been given him by an acquaintance who was called "Ducky" but that it was made worse on the way to the station.
GUILTY . CLARKE then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on October 19th, 1903. Four other convictions were proved against him and it was stated that he was an associate of dangerous characters— Four years' penal servitude. COLE, who had been twice convicted for assault on the police, but who was stated to have been a very hard-working fish-curer when he was not led away by associates— Twenty-one months' hard labour.
MR. LYONS Prosecuted.
JAMES FRENCH . I live at 27, Drayton Park, Islington—I am a rag merchant, and have a warehouse at Elliot Place—on January 11th, before I left, I locked up the warehouse and saw that everything was safe and secure—I myself locked the two padlocks and the box lock which were on the door—the next morning when I went I found the padlocks had been wrenched off, the box lock had been broken open, and jemmy marks were on the gate—I communicated with the police, and then searched inside—I missed from my stock five bales of new woollen cloth cutting—I cannot identify them without the bags—they are tailors' snippings from West End houses, and cost me about £12, but of course they are worth more than that when sold—I have known the prisoner for some years, and shortly before my place was broken open I had seen him hanging about the locality—I believe he has worked as a carman for some houses with which I have done business—he has never been in my employment.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You have not collected goods from my warehouse.
GEORGE JONES . I am a carman, of 18, Chapel Street, Clerkenwell—I was in Shepperton Road on a Tuesday or Wednesday in the beginning of January—the prisoner crossed the road and said, "Ain't you working?"—I said, "No, I ain't doing much: two or three days a week"—he said, "How long have you been out of the rag cutting line?"—I told him just before Christmas—he said, "Who do you think is at the back of Elliott Place?"—I said, "I don't know: Mr. French?"—he said, "Yes; have you got the keys at home?"—I said, "No; what do you want them for?"—he said, "I want to get into French's place, and get the stuff out"—I went home, and then to Mr. French's place, and told him what I had heard—on Friday I went to a beer-house to have half a pint of beer, and saw the prisoner and two or three more men—the prisoner came over to me and said, "Tom, I have done Mr. French's show this morning"—I said "How did you get on?"—he said, "We got £6 between us for the
start"—I told Mr. French about it—I made a statement to the police—the prisoner was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. I did not ask you if you were in work—I was not hard up and hungry—I did not ask you for a pair of boots—I did not say I must get money from somewhere as I was starving—I had boots on—I did not say Mr. French had not got much stuff—I have worked for Mr. Jacobs—you saw me on the moving job, and asked me what was up—I did not say, "We have done ourselves a bit of good in moving Mr. French"; I told you nothing whatever—I have not been promised anything for this job, but I have had your people threatening my life out—I have not told anyone I was going to be looked after, and that I had been paid a sovereign—I was threatened by a mob, but I am not going to be frightened—I did not say Jarratt and Oates had promised to look after me, and had given me a sovereign.
CHARLES PEARSE . I live at 4, Church Grove, Essex Road, and am foreman for Mr. French—on January 8th I saw the prisoner and two others about 8 p.m.—the prisoner was trying the padlock of Mr. French's premises—he saw me and went away—I followed him and the other men along the Essex Road—a few days later I saw the prisoner loitering in the Essex Road, near Mr. French's premises.
Cross-examined. Mr. French only employs me at this warehouse—I remain in the warehouse while Mr. French is absent—I said at the Police Court that I saw you on the 8th or 9th, and not the 8th and 9th.
WILLIAM HALL (Police-Constable N.) On January 12th I saw the prisoner in New North Road, about 3 p.m.—I told him I was a police officer, and should arrest him for breaking into Mr. French's warehouse and stealing five bags of cloth cuttings—he said, "I know nothing at all about it; you have made a mistake. If I did, you find out where we sold the stuff"—about 8 p.m. the same evening Jones made a statement in his presence—he made no reply to it—I searched the prisoner—on him I found £110s. in gold, 1s., and 2d. bronze—I said, "Where did you get that from?"—he said, "I won it at gambling"—I know that Mr. French's premises were broken into between 12 and 8 a.m., because the prosecutor left them at 12 and returned at 8 a.m.
Cross-examined. I have seen you loitering about the New North Road—I know George Jones—he has not been convicted—I locked him up three or four years ago for taking 3s. 6d., the money of his master, and he was remanded for inquiries.
The prisoner, in his defence, said he had not been near the warehouse, and knew nothing about the burglary. He repeated this defence on oath, and stated that Jones' evidence was absolutely false. Jones came forward, and stated that he had a good character, and was and had been in employment.
NOT GUILTY .
246. EDWARD MOORE (39), HENRY FRENCH (28), and RICHARD HAYES (24) , Attempting to commit a burglary in the dwelling house of Harry Hudson. Second Count. Being found by night in possession of housebreaking implements without lawful excuse. MOOREand HAYES PLEADED GUILTY to the attempted burglary.
MR. CHALMERS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SKELTON (Inspector N.) On February 2nd I was in company with Smith, when I saw Moore at the corner of Queensbury Street, who ran away on seeing us—we followed; he ran into a urinal, and Hayes and he ran out at the other end—Smith caught French, and I caught Hayes—a constable called out, "He has a jemmy"—Hayes broke away, but after being chased three-quarters of a mile he was stopped—he was taken to the station—when charged he made no reply.
MARK SMITH (609 N.) On February 2nd I was with the last witness, and saw the prisoners, whose conduct appeared suspicious—we saw them leave the door of the Golden Fleece and enter the urinal, Hayes and French at the bottom end in Queensbury Street and Moore at the top end in Essex Street—I heard something drop like a bar of iron and when I got up to the urinal I saw Hayes and French run out into Queensbury Street—we chased them—I caught French and took him back to the urinal, where I found this jemmy—Lewis arrested Moore—the jemmy corresponds with the marks found on the door of the Golden Fleece, where I had seen the prisoners and a woman loitering the morning before—we saw the prisoners working at the door of the public-house, and there are seven distinct marks found on the door corresponding with this jemmy.
DAVID LEWIS (416 N.) I remember being in Essex Road on February 2nd as I was working my beat, and seeing the prisoners—they were loitering near the public-house in question at the top of Queensbury Street—they walked out of sight, and I hid in a doorway.
WILLIAM SAMUEL RAMSDEN . I am manager to Mr. Hudson, of the Golden Fleece, Essex Road—I was there on February 2nd, late in the evening—when I left, the house was properly locked up—when I came the next morning at 7 I found marks on the door, and that the window had been broken.
Friday, February 9th.
[MR. CHALMERS decided that he was unable to accept the prisoners' Pleat to attempted burglary.]
Mr. SKELTON (Re-examined). Smith found this jemmy—I heard the constable inside the urinal call out, "He has a jemmy"—Hayes broke away and ran down Queensbury Street—he was chased through several roads and brought back to the house—the other prisoners were secured, and they were all taken to the station—the jemmy was compared with the door of the public-house, and it was found that the marks on the door corresponded with it—I told the prisoners they would be charged with attempted burglary—they made no reply, except French, who said, "I deny the charge"—when the prisoners were searched a box of matches was found on one of them—this jemmy was dropped as the men ran into the urinal.
Cross-examined by Moore. I found a piece of candle and a spectacle case on you—on French was a box of matches and this key.
M. SMITH (Re-examined). Hayes and French entered the urinal at the bottom end in Queensbury Street and Moore at the top end in Essex Road—as I ran past I heard something fall like a bar of iron; as I got
to the top end French and Hayes ran out at the bottom end and down Queensbury Street—I passed Hayes, and caught French, who was in front, and Skelton arrested Hayes—French ran 50 to 60 yards—I saw him start from the door of the urinal—when I caught him he said, "All right, governor, I will go quiet; it is all up"—I took him back to the urinal, where I saw this jemmy lying under one of the pans—I shouted out to Skelton, "Here's the jemmy, sir"—I heard it fall in the urinal when the three men first entered—no other persons were in the urinal—one of the three must have dropped it—I saw these men at the door of the public-house—on their being searched I saw a piece of candle and a pair of spectacles on Moore, a knife and a penny on Hayes, and a box of matches and a key on French—they are all parts of a burglar's outfit in the usual way of trade—burglars use candles and matches to see their way about.
Cross-examined by Moore. When I heard the jemmy drop I did not go at once into the urinal to get it, because I had to run after you and you ran one way and one the other, and I wanted to bring you back—you were not standing outside the urinal when I held French; you ran round the corner and Lewis caught hold of you—you did not say, "Don't choke that man; he is not going away."
D. LEWIS (Re-examined). I am quite certain I saw the three prisoners in Essex Road in the beginning of February—they were standing at the corner of Queensbury Street and Essex Road at 1.10 a.m.—they were caught at 1.20—I was on my beat—I hid in a doorway—I next saw them when they were arrested—I arrested Moore—the prisoners were searched at the station.
Cross-examined by Moore. You were standing still in Queensbury Street when I arrested you.
W. S. RAMSDEN (Re-examined). I am manager and licensee of the Golden Fleece—I fastened the place up safely over-night, and when I came in the morning I found a pane of glass broken and marks of a crow bar or some such instrument on the door.
French's statement before the Magistrate: "I am on my ticket and have been home thirteen days. Since I have been home I have been living with my sister; I have hardly moved from the house. Last night I went to the Islington Empire. I was a bit late coming home. I come down New Path Road across to the coffee stall. I came straight across the road, and saw the constable and inspector standing round the corner. I was walking down, and Cox, 20 yards from the house, when the constable ran round the corner and grabbed me. He said, 'I want to search you.' I said, 'You can search me.' He did so, and found nothing but a box of matches and a key. He took me into custody and shouted to the sergeant, 'Claim that man.' These two men were walking down the other side. He took me into the urinal, and there he found this iron. With that he took me to the station, when the charge was read to me. I denied the charge."
French, in hit defence on oath, said he had to pass the Golden Fleece and the urinal on his way home, when he was arrested, out that he denied the charge.
Moore, in his defence, admitted the attempted burglary, but said that French had nothing to do with it.
Hayes, in his defence, said, "I can only say the tool did not belong to me. When I heard a man call out I ran."
GUILTY on both counts. MOORE then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on April 26th, 1904, and FRENCH to a conviction of felony at the Guildhall, Westminster, on April 12th, 1902, in the name of Harry French. Four other convictions were proved against MOORE, and six against FRENCH— Three years' penal servitude each. HAYES, against whom there was one conviction, and who stated that he had been discharged from the Post Office for betting fourteen months ago— Nine months' hard labour.
247. JOHN BENDALL (44) and HENRY WARD (54), otherwise WILLS (54) , Unlawfully obtaining from Robert Moggridge £2 14s. by false pretences with intent to defraud. Second Count, Conspiring together to defraud Robert Moggridge of his money.
MR. MACLEOD Prosecuted; MR. CHALMERS Defended Bendall ROBERT MOGGRIDGE. I am manager of a cab business in Doughty Mews, W.C.—on the afternoon of December 4th I was in the Duke of York, Henry Street—Bendall came to me and said he had some corn to sell for a friend, which was at Paddington station, and he produced a sample bag of oats—he said it had been assigned to him from Bristol by this gentleman (Ward)—I said, "I will have 10 quarters at 10s. a quarter"—he said, "Cannot you manage 26 quarters? A friend of mine has arranged to take them if he can get them all at once"—the prisoners said, "You will have to come with us to Ludgate Hill, as we have borrowed money on the consignment notes"—we went to the King Lud in Ludgate Hill in a van which was going that way—Ward went away to get the consignment notes, and brought one back, like this produced—I pointed out that there must be some mistake, as no 26 sacks could weigh 4 tons—Bendall said that must be a mistake of the clerk, and that that would be put right at Paddington—after we had settled the bill Bendall said, "Give my friend the money," and I gave Ward £2 13s. and another 1s., as he said, "Let me have 1s. for a drink"—Ward went away, and I never saw him again till I picked him out at the Bridewell—when Ward had gone Bendall wanted to get outside, and I said, "I think you have had me, but where you go I am going"—he took me to Ludgate Hill Post Office—I got a message from Paddington—I discovered it to be a swindle—I said I would give Bendall in charge, and I called a constable and gave him in charge—I have learned since that these consignment forms hang up at railway stations for the convenience of consignors.
Cross-examined by MR. CHALMERS; I had seen bendall before at an auction sale—on this occasion I met him casually.
Cross-examined by Ward. Bendall called you into the public-house—5s. a quarter is a ridiculous price; I said 10s. for the oats—it is a pack of lies to say that I asked you to get hay or turkeys for Christmas; I never spoke to you, except to pay for a drink, and I might have suggested brandy, as I like a drop of brandy, but I do not know what you spent,
though I do know that you were spending my money—I did not say "Keep your tongue quiet; I do not know you, if seen in your company by a detective"; you are saying a pack of lies—I have not bought any stolen property—you did recognise me at Brixton—I received some harness on my premises, but what you are saying about me is a pack of lies; I never spoke to you, and Bendall did all the talking all the time.
ARTHUR PITT (209 City). On December 4th, in the afternoon, I was in Ludgate Circus when the last witness came to me and said he wished to give Bendall into custody on the charge of obtaining money under false pretences—I took Bendall into custody—he said, "I had a sample, but I have lost some"—when charged he made no reply—he was searched, and a small quantity of oats was found in his coat pocket, but no bag.
Cross-examined by MR. CHALMERS. I remember that Bendall was let out on bail—I heard that he came to the Bridewell station—he has helped the police, to the best of my knowledge.
JESSE TUCKER . I am a Great Western Railway police sergeant employed at Paddington—this document is one of the railway forms for the use of consignors consigning goods from Paddington, which anybody can get at any railway depot, but they are not genuine unless they pass through the railway company's office—there were no such goods as these referred to lying at Paddington.
JAMES DUNNING (Detective, City). I have made inquiries as to the H. Scott, of Amberley Street, Paddington, mentioned in this consignment note, and no such name is known in Paddington—I made inquiries about Ward with a view to arresting him—I arrested him on January 6th at the Wandsworth and Clapham Union at Earlsfield at 11.30 a.m.—I told him I was a police officer, and held a warrant for his arrest for obtaining £2 14s. from Mr. Moggridge by means of false pretences—he replied, "I have a perfect answer to the charge"—I conveyed him to the station—he was charged and made no reply—some time afterwards from inquiries I found he had been in the habit of signing in the name of Wills—I asked him about it, and he said, "I admit I am the man, and I had the money."
Cross-examined by MR. CHALMERS. I have made inquiries, and find that Bendall has a very good character—his bail was £20 and a surety of £20, which was immediately forthcoming—I made inquiries of a man named Bow, who stated that Ward had approached him a few days previously, and offered to sell him corn, and that Row stated that he had introduced Bendall to a publican in Fetter Lane, and that Bendall after some time promised to find him a customer for the oats, and upon that statement, and that of Mr. Moggridge, we obtained a warrant for Ward's arrest—a great deal of assistance has been given to the police by Bendall, whose statements have been corroborated in every detail.
Cross-examined by Ward. When the inspector asked you at the station if you wanted any inquiries made you said you wanted inquiries made about the prosecutor and his witnesses.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Bendall said: "I never took any money whatever. I never had the notes in my hand. I also
asked Mr. Moggridge to go to the telephone and see if it was right, as I did not know the man." Ward said: "The prosecutor knew as much about it as Bendall and myself. At that meeting he asked if we could buy any turkeys or geese. I said it was easy to get things up, but was not so easy to sell them. He knew Bendall very well, but not myself, and if he could trust to me we could do business together; he had a man in Higgin Lane, a friend of his, who would buy anything."
Bendall, in his defence on oath, said that he was trying to sell the oats for Ward, who told him they were at Paddington, but he knew nothing about them, and he had no intention to defraud.
BENDALL NOT GUILTY .
WARD GUILTY .
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in July, 1893. Two other convictions were proved against him, but it was stated that he had been trying to get an honest living, and had given assistance to the police in the recovery of property. Six months' hard labour.
There was another indictment against Bendall alone for the same offence, which had been postponed from the last Session, and upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
New Court, Friday, February 9th.
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
FRANK TOOTEL . I am Deputy Superintendent Registrar of Births. Marriages, and Deaths for the Hendon District—I produce the original register for May 22nd, 1896, from the Registry Office at Hendon, containing the entry of the marriage of George Frederick Graham Parry and Winifred Stott by special licence—I performed the marriage on that day—the witnesses to the contract between the parties are F. H. Thomas and Charles Chaters.
Cross-examined. Thomas was my clerk—he does not now reside in the district, and I have not his address—Chaters, I know, is dead.
GEORGE COLE (Detective X.) I produce the certificate of marriage on May 22nd, 1896, at the Hendon Registry Office—I have seen the prisoner write, and produce a sample of his writing—I saw him write it [MR. PURCELL objected that the witness was not an expert, which the law required, and cited Rex v. Salmon (Archbold), the Queen v. Hardy (11 Cox's Criminal Cases) and Queen v. Polton (Archbold). The COURT admitted the evidence for what it was worth, but stated the Jury might not act upon it.
MARGARET MARY MCCARTHY . I cannot read or write—I was a domestic servant four or five years ago and was in Brixton about three years ago—before that I was at Miss Smith's in Acre Lane, and before that at Wicklow Hospital with cold on the lungs—I am very forgetful of dates—I met the prisoner about five years ago, when I was in apartments, or four years ago, when I was in Acre Lane—I met him on Clapham Common one evening—he made love to me—he said I was pretty and everything that
was nice: all the nice things he could speak of—he said he was secretary to the German Government, that he was a clever man, and he told me things I had not had told me before—after I married him he said he was connected with Sir William Everett, who had something to do with the German Government—he said I was the only woman he ever loved, or could love—he proposed marriage—I refused—I told him I would not marry him, as I did not know anything about him, and that I was engaged—afterwards I consented—he did not tell me he was married, only that he was keeping a woman—he talked about his cleverness and what he was going to do in the future, and I did not expect he was married—he asked me whether I had money—I said "No" at first—he said, "My father would not allow me to marry without money"—I said, "I have no money, but I have some property, some houses"—a couple of days Afterwards he said, "I am going to be arrested"—before that he brought me to a house; I cannot recognise where it was; I have been trying to find it since; I can recognise the house; but not the street—I showed it to the detective when he brought me there, when I recognised the house outside, and the street as far as I can remember—when the prisoner took me to that house he brought me up two flights of stairs—a man said, "What is your name?"—I said, "Margaret McCarthy"—"What is your father?"—"A master tailor in Wicklow," and several things, and then he said, "That is all right; good-night; Mrs. Parry, I wish you success"—the prisoner told me I was his wife and I was not to have anything to do with other men, as I was Mrs. Parry—that was at night—the prisoner said he had no money to buy the ring, but it did not matter; that I was very pretty, and I could buy the ring myself, and he would give it me back when he got it from his people—he said, "Goodnight," And arranged for me to meet him again—I went back to where I was stopping, and when I met him again he said he was going to be arrested—after the marriage I met him several times—he said, "Maggie, I am going to be arrested; lend me some money, or get me some money; I had better go abroad"—he went away, and I did not see him any more till I met him in Sackville Street, Dublin, accidentally—he said, "Maggie, is it you?"—I said, "Yes"—he had given me a password, "Slips"—he said, "You will come to me and we will get apartments," which he did in Mount Street in the name of Professor Peter Dudley—I said, "I am not going by that name"—he said, "You are my wife, and you will have to go," but I did not go—I said, "I will go, but I could not stop under that name"—he took a jarvey, and he took my luggage to an hotel in Sackville Street, where we stayed—I had been staying with friends—when he left me he said he might be arrested, and that when he had some money he would telegraph for me, but I have got no money up to the present—I saw him several times—when he met me the next day he saw me as far as Sackville Street station—he told me I would have to go and live with him, and he took apartments, but I went for my luggage and became ill and could not go back—I went to Mrs. Jones' apartments at 12s. a week in a street off the Sackville Road—I stopped there over a week, and after that I went to Upper Mount Street, a Mr. Dee's house,
where I stopped five months, and I had a still-born baby there—after that I went to the hospital—I had not been out of the house for some time, but as I had no money I was compelled to go, and he came and saw me off by the tram—the father of my child was the prisoner, and no other man—he wanted me to do several things that were wrong and bad, but I would not; I was frightened for my life—when I came out of the hospital he told me that the marriage at Brixton was illegal, and not a real and true marriage, and that it would be good for me to have a real and true marriage—he went out one morning, and when he came in he said, "Little one, get up; you can be married to-day"—I said, "Married? I have not got any breakfast yet," but he told me that the marriage at Brixton was not legal, and a priest came, and said, "You must come and get married," and I went and got married at Rathmines Chapel, a few yards from where I lived—after that I went to several apartments; then I went to Liverpool and returned to Dublin—after that I came to London again and lived at 190, Alexandra Road, Kilburn—that was about five months ago, I should say; I do not know—the prisoner came there several times, drunk—one night he was as drunk as ever, and he walked backwards—there were some papers lying on the table—I said, "What are those?"—he said, "Those are the divorce papers, little one. Listen: I do not get any except divorce papers"—I said, "Divorce! For what?"—he said, "I was married before I married you; read them through. I am going to be arrested to-night"—I said, "Arrested to-night?"—he said, "Yes, my first wife is going to have me arrested; a detective is after me, and at any minute I may be arrested"—I said, "I will go and give you in charge now"—I went to open the door, and he dragged me back and said, "You bitch," and cut my head, and swore, and said everything against me he could—the next day my head was bandaged—I had been crying all day, when he said, "My little one, I must see a man to-morrow," and he said that he would tell me everything, that he had arranged to get some money from his brother, and that it would be settled—he got some money, and he sent the papers off, and I do not know what he did—there was no quarrel, but he threatened to take my life at Dover, when I said I could not live with him, and he would not give me any money to go to Ireland—he had a razor, and caught me by my hair, and pulled me down—I said, "Do not kill me," but he opened the razor to cut my throat, and I said, "Remember, Fred, murder is never hid; you will be hung," and he dashed the razor against the floor and did not speak, and I was on my knees, crying all day—the next day he went away and left me, and I did not see him again—I did not hear from him, because he was afraid, but I had a few telegrams—after that I went to the police station and told them there that he was a deserter from the Army, that he had committed bigamy, and all I knew about him—I waited at Dover till I saw my brother, when I left Dover, and came to London, and I went straight to the police station—I have been in service some time, but first I went to the Salvation Army, who took me in, as I did not know where to go, and was in debt.
Cross-examined, I cannot say if I was married to the prisoner in Dublin
in March—I lived with him in Dublin eleven months as his wife—I did not want to go through another form of marriage—he suggested that I should be married in the Church—I said I was not prepared, and that I Had not any clothes—I had no right to think my husband should marry me a second time—I do not know that he was attached to me; he did not seem like it—he seemed to pay me attention, but I knew my own heart, which he did not—the marriage at Brixton was four years ago, and I am an uneducated girl, but I know all the man's doings—I told him I had house property because I knew he wanted property; he did not want me, but I was in love with him and I told him that—I was ill after that marriage—I told the Magistrate that after the ceremony we went on to Clapham Common, where he had connection with me, although my story is true, and not imagination—I cannot recollect the year of that marriage, but it is about four years ago—he told me when he came to Dublin that he had been arrested, but that was a pretence because I asked him why he did not write, or come, and he said, "I will tell you everything"—it is quite true he was intimate with me on Clapham Common, but I was going back to my situation, and I went back there—I said I was not quite certain, but as far as I could remember—in London I gave him my crucifix, which he said he kept in his cupboard—when I was in Dublin I was doing no work, I expect, because I was begging half my time for my mother—the prisoner said a marriage in a Registry Office was not a marriage in the Catholic Church, and that it was not legal.
GEORGE COLE (Detective X.) I produce two certificates, one of a marriage on May 22nd, 1896, at the Hendon Registry Office, and the other dated April 8th, 1904, at the Roman Catholic Church of Our Lady of Refuge, Rathmines, Dublin, between George Frederick Graham Party, bachelor, and Margaret Mary McCarthy, spinster—I also produce an exhibit which was signed by the prisoner in my presence—I arrested the prisoner on January 15th about 9 p.m.—I told him I should take him into custody for committing bigamy with Margaret McCarthy in Dublin in 1904—he said, "Yes; is Miss McCarthy alive?"—I told him she was—he said, "I have just heard she is dead; I am glad it is not true"—on the way to the station he said, "I lived with her twelve months before I married her. She knew I was a married man then, as I told her all about it. I have been up to see my first wife to-night, but she would not see me"—I charged him at Kilburn station, to which he made no reply—I searched him.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, denied the mock marriage at Brixton, or that he had ever seen the prosecutrix till he met her in Dublin, where he lived with her about twelve months before the marriage; he state that he enlisted in June, 1900, was sent to Malta in 1901, and did not return to England till March, 1902; that he was arrested in April and not released till November 21st, 1902, and went to Margate till Christmas, and in 1903 went to Paris and Hamburgh till March 23rd, when he went to Newcastle, and from there to Dublin, where he met the prosecutrix casually, whom he had never seen before.
GUILTY . He PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at the West London Police Court on May 22nd, 1902, of obtaining money by false pretences. Detective
Cole produced some of the prisoner's correspondence which showed that he was connected with, and was himself, a dangerous character. Four years' penal servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, February 10th, 1906. Before His Honour Judge Rentoul, Commissioner.
249. GEORGE WILSON (25) PLEADED GUILTY to attempting to obtain from Harry Hart Blankensee and S. Blankensee & Sons a ring, with intent to defraud, and to conspiring to defraud those persons. ( See next case.)
MR. BUSZARD Prosecuted; MR. SCHULTESS YOUNG Defended.
GEORGE RICHARD BALDOCK . I am a watch importer at 31, Holborn Viaduct—I have a telephone—in December last I was called to the telephone by one of my assistants, who said that Vander & Hedges had asked for some watches—I had previously supplied them with watches of various kinds, and I watched the telephone, when the voice asked for a neat thin watch and said their messenger would call—I imagined I was speaking with Vander & Hedges—I had two watches prepared for them, and I put on the note, "On appro."—this is one of the watches, as the number on the works agree—I believe I was in the shop when the messenger called—(he prisoner resembles him, but I cannot swear to him—in consequence of the belief that I was dealing with Vander & Hedges and that their messenger was authorised to receive them, I parted with the two watches—otherwise I should not have supplied them.
Cross-examined. The messenger handed me a slip of paper with initials on it—I have dealt with Vander & Hedges for eighteen months or two years—they are a large firm—we keep a small book to sign for goods—in this case, being in a hurry, a slip of paper was initialled—we send goods on approbation for seven days, but these remained about three weeks—we sometimes send goods by post, but these watches were wanted at once—we did not send an invoice by post—my traveller had called on Vander & Hedges within an hour of the telephone call, so that we were not astonished at receiving an order—since this matter we ring up the firms—the messenger came about 1 p.m.—if we had telephoned to the firm we should have known—the man came twice—I did not speak to him on the first occasion—on the second occasion I gave him the goods and he signed the paper—the only way to prevent a similar swindle is to telephone back to the firm.
Re-examined. The number of the watch produced is 8331214 on the movement—the initials "B.M." on the paper produced were written by the man who came into the shop—I was satisfied that he came from Vander & Hedges—they had dealt with us before, and, I believe, had sent messengers—the chain produced is 18-carat—this cigarette case is worth £5 or £6.
CARLOTTA BEST FOLKES . I am single, and live at 117, High Road Poplar—I am employed by Mr. Baldock—on December 4th last I remember these two watches being supplied to the prisoner, who came to the shop twice as a messenger from Vander & Hedges—I picked him out at the police station from a number of people—he asked if the parcel was ready for Vander & Hedges.
Cross-examined. He was wearing an overcoat and a black bowler hat—I did not serve the prisoner with the watches.
Re-examined. I spoke to him—I saw his face, and remember it—I have no doubt he is the man—I identified him a month after.
BEATRICE MARY WHITCOMBE . I am single and live at 168, Bromley Boad, Westboume Park—I am assistant to George Unit & Sons, of 11, Thavies Hill, City——I was in the shop on December 8th, when I received a telephone message from Vander & Hedges, asking if we had any gold cigarette cases in stock—I think it said, "Are you Unit & Sons?"—the answer was, "Yes"—I believe I gave the prices for the customer said to be wanting them—when the messenger came I let them go "on appro.," as it was said the customer was in a hurry, and to save time thirty would send a messenger down, and would I have them ready—that was about 4 p.m.—I do not know who the messenger was who called a little afterwards, only that he was a young fellow—George Unit & Sons do business with Vander & Hedges, otherwise I should not have let them go—this is one of the cigarette cases—I gave the messenger the parcel and this is his signature in my book: "W. C. R." or "K.," we could not make out which—I believed he came from Vander & Hedges, or I would not have sent the goods.
Cross-examined. I cannot say what dealings our firm have had with Vander & Hedges, as I have not been with them long—they are on the telephone and, I believe, had an account before—I did not communicate with Vander & Hedges on the telephone to know if the order was correct—the manager was out—I was the only person there at the time.
FREDERICK JOHN JENNINGS . I am a clerk, of 89, Camp Road, Kensal Rise—I first saw the prisoner on December 8th or 9th, after that I saw him nearly every day—he sold me this cigarette case, I believe the first day I saw him, or subsequently, for £3—he said it was his—I lent him £3 on his promise to pay me in two days—he came two days afterwards and said he could not pay me, but I could keep the case—I never was paid the £3.
Cross-examined. I am a bookmaker's clerk—I do not know Hill, at all events by that name—the transaction was in the presence of another man—I did not know the value of the case, and I did not really want it—my idea was to take it in pledge—I thought £3 was as much as it was worth—I met the prisoner casually a week before; I knew nothing about him—once or twice I saw him at a public-house.
Re-examined. I knew him as Will—I was under the impression he was going to pay me back.
in the shop on December 12th, about 12.30, when I received a telephone message that Vander & Hedges wanted to know if we had any diamond scarf pins—I knew Vander & Hedges had done business with our firm—I said that we had several in stock, and could let them have one or two—the reply was that a messenger would call—he called about fifteen or twenty minutes later—he was a young man of smart appearance—I gave him three diamond scarf pins, some with coloured stones, and I marked them "On appro., £3, £2 5s., and £5"—the messenger signed this receipt—I would not have parted with them if I had not thought the messenger came from Vander & Hedges.
Cross-examined. Vander & Hedges deal with us very much—they often send messengers, all young men of smart appearance—Mr. Holmes was in the shop—we did not communicate with Vander & Hedges that day—we did two or three weeks afterwards, when we were taking stock—the order was not confirmed by telephone—the messenger did not sign the book, but I gave an "Appro." note—I wrote it.
CHARLES WILLIAM HOLMES . I am a jeweller, and one of the firm of Holmes & Mapleson, of 28, Glasshouse Street—on December 12th I was in my office when a telephone call came—I told Miss Dale to pick out pins which I had priced—she handed them, I believe, to Wilson (See page 762)—I have identified him as the man, and to the best of my belief he called for the parcel which I made up for Vander & Hedges, with whom I have done business—I would not have parted with the goods if I had not thought the messenger had been authorised by them—the pin produced is one of the three—I think it cost us 50s. to 55s.—it is on the "Appro." note—I did not send any invoice—this is the counterfoil of the "Appro." note, which is not signed by anybody.
Cross-examined. The "Appro." note is taken on carbon—our custom is not for the messenger to sign it.
EDWARD CHARLES WOOD . I am assistant to David James Clear, pawnbroker, of 170, Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush—this diamond pin was pawired at our shop on December 14th by the prisoner in the name of Vere, of 25, Lena Gardens—I produce a gold chain pawned with us, but not to me—I know it was pawned.
Cross-examined. I do not produce our books; I only produce two tickets—the prisoner did not pledge an overcoat with me—I do not recollect it, but we have 600 or 700 customers—I identify the prisoner from speaking to him over the counter; by his looks in general, not by his clothes.
GEORGE EUGENE CHANDLER . I am a jeweller, trading as Chandler and Son, at 12, Newman Street, Oxford Street—on Saturday, December 23rd, I received a telephone message about 12 o'clock, stating that Vander & Hedges would send a messenger for some gold Albert chains—they were customers of ours, and sent to us frequently—I have had telephone messages on a good many occasions from them, and they have sent messengers—on this occasion the voice specified the patterns and said they were for Mr. Arthur Parsons, a partner of Vander & Hedges—I agreed to send the chains, believing the message had come from Vander and
Hedges—about ten minutes later Wilson came—I handed him the chains—this is one and this the other (Produced)—their value is about £13 the two—I believed the messenger was authorised by Vander & Hedges—he did not sign a receipt—I sent this note wrapped up with the chains—that is our usual custom—they are described in the note.
Cross-examined. I think Wilson had a lighter coat on than he has now.
HENRY ALGERNON CROWHURST . I am manager at the Duke of Sussex public-house, Latimer Road, Notting Hill—this gold chain was handed to me by the proprietor—I lent the prisoner a sovereign on it on Christmas night, when he came into the bar—I saw him the following day—he asked me to buy the chain—I refused at first—eventually I gave him 358., making £2 15s. altogether—I understood it belonged to him—he is a casual customer and comes in on and off—I knew him as Alf—I did not know his surname—I thought he travelled, or managed a jewellery business—I have not seen him with Wilson, to my knowledge—I have seen Wilson as a customer.
Cross-examined. Jones' name is Hartwell—I did not ask him any questions—I have seen a Mr. Hill with Jones in previous years, but not on that day—Hill was a customer—in the summer Wilson asked me to lend him £5—I did not pay for his defence, but Wilson took £3 out of the £5, and asked me to keep the other two sovereigns, and when he was in trouble I paid that money, and my liability ended there—about the second week in December I bought two miniatures for 25s., and I know that better ones have been pledged for 3s., 4s., and 5s.—the police told me they were the proceeds of these robberies—they came and asked me about the two, and I told them I cave 25s. for them—I have never bought any others besides those—I did not know their value, or I should not have given so much money—I have never bought things from Wilson—he had been in the house twelve months ago—I never saw Jones in his company, to my knowledge.
FRANK PARSONS . I trade with two others as Vander & Hedges, jewellers, at 26, New Bond Street—on December 4th I sent no telephone message to Mr. Baldock asking for two gold watches—I did not receive two gold watches, nor send a messenger there to receive them—on December 8th I did not telephone to Unit & Sons for three gold cigarette cases, or receive them or authorise anyone to receive them from that firm—on December 12th I did not telephone to Holmes & Mapleson, of Glass-house Street, for diamond soarf pins, nor receive them; nor on December 23rd to Chandler & Sons, of 12, Newman Street, for two gold Albert chains, nor receive them, nor authorise anyone to do so; nor did I do so on December 27th in the case of Blankensee & Sons; if anybody did so it was not with my authority, or anybody from my firm—Jones left my employment in November, 1904—he started in the office, and I took him into the shop as assistant shopkeeper—being in the office, he would have an opportunity of seeing the names of my customors—all these people were not customers, but Baldock we had dealt with for some long period—the prisoner would know them
Crass-examined, He would know many other jewellers as well—we are pretty well known, even to burglars, very likely.
Re-examined, We have telephoned, but we have afterwards sent a well-known man with a written order ad well, and that verified our telephone message—these things happened about Christmas time, when we might be a little more lax.
WILLIAM CLARKE . I am a draper's assistant and live at 85, Macfarlane Road—I lived at 74, Adelaide Road, Shepherd's Bush, both before and after Christmas—Jones lived there too—I only knew him three weeks previous to going to stay at that place—I had several conversations with him—he had a few letters in the name of De Vere, which I took in—he told me he was known by that name—he told me he had lived at 12, Bomore Road, Notting Hill—I only know Wilson by sight—I have seen Jones and Wilson together in a public-house in Shepherd's Bush more than once—one occasion was on December 19th—I saw them several times in December together—on Monday, January 9th, the night he was arrested, I had a conversation with Jones—I believe I had seen Wilson earlier—Jones told me Wilson was arrested, and I used to keep asking him how the chap got on, and he told me if the job had come off all right he would have had a share in it.
Cross-examined, I gave evidence before the Magistrate—on January 16th I was there—I gave evidence on the last occasion before the prisoners were committed for trial—nobody asked me to give evidence—Sergeant Hands asked me about De Vere—I was with Jones when he was arrested—Harry Dawson was arrested at the same time—we were arrested together—I had only known Jones four days—I was given to understand he was on the stage—that would account for the name De Vere—I have never spoken to Wilson; I have to Hill—Dawson introduced me to Jones—I cannot account for Jones telling me he would get a share if Wilson had pulled off the last job, but during the conversation it came out—the police came to me twice about this matter; first when they came and searched the place—that was after the first hearing—then the sergeant suggested I should go to the Guildhall—he said I must be there—he came the night before the hearing of January 16th, and I had to go on Jones' remand—I next saw the police four days after that—I give evidence here the first time to-day, but I have been in attendance every day—I was not at the Guildhall on January 12th.
HENRY DAWSON . I am a clerk, of 20, Bomore Road, North Kensington—I first met Jones on December 23rd, 1905, when he came to my room—he was living in the same house—I had seen him a month or six weeks before that, but had not known him—I have not seen him with Wilson before December 23rd; I have since—the day Jones came to my room he was brought by a woman who lived in the back room, whose husband is in the asylum, and who is living with another man—Jones then told me he had pawned a chain for £3 10s.—he showed me the pawn-ticket in the name of De Vere—he showed me another chain in tissue paper—I went out with him that evening—he had the chain then—he was wearing it the latter part of the evening—we went to the Bush Hotel, the Telegraph, and several houses in the neighbourhood of Shepherd's Bush—at the
Telegraph I saw Wilson and two others—Jones and Wilson talked together—on Christmas Day Jones and I went out—we had no money—Jones asked if I had got enough money to pay for a drink, and he would pay me back if he could sell this chain—we went into the Duke of Sussex, but the house was too full—Jones said he could not see the man he wanted to—he asked if we could get two dinners from the landlady, and he would pay me when he got money on the chain—between 1 and 3 o'clock we came out and went again to the Duke of Sussex about 6.30 or 7 p.m.—Jones handed the chain over the bar—we came out and walked up Latimer Road and came back, and I waited outside—the next day I did not see him till late in the evening—he said he had sold the chain—on December 27th he came out about 11 or 11.30 and went about Shepherd's Bush—Jones wanted to go to the West End—I did not have any money—he gave me his cigarette case and a match case—I think it was pig's skin; I only got 1s. 3d. on it at any rate when I pawned it in the Uxbridge Road, and I have got the ticket—we went and had a drink, and Jones paid 2d. for a telephone and Id. for a 'bus, and we went into the Telegraph with Wilson and Jones and two other men—Wilson did not speak to Jones—I went out and left Wilson and Jones there together—I met Jones the same evening between 6.30 and 7, but previous to that I had given him the pawn-ticket—we went down the Richmond Road and the Elsham Road—he said he was very sorry that Wilson had "dropped' meaning that he had got "copped," or taken into custody, as that was the first time he had ever worked with him—he tore the pawn-tickets up and I left him—on December 28th I showed him the evening paper and he read it, and I went to dinner—he told me that evening he had been on the telephone for some diamond rings—I saw him till late that evening.
Cross-examined. I think he spoke about the diamond rings on the 27th, and I did not show him the evening paper till the 28th—I have never seen Clarke with Wilson—I do not know Clarke—Jones got his overcoat out of pawn, and he is wearing it now—I was arrested by mistake—I was afterwards sent for by Inspector Hine to give evidence, and I went to Snow Hill—I made a statement; not a very long one—I am a bookmaker's clerk—I do not go to racecourses, I hang about the streets—I do not know what Clarke is—I have seen Jennings—I knew Crow hunt as Brighton Harry—there is another man I know; he might be Hartwell—I do not know who is the proprietor and who is the manager of the Duke of Sussex.
Re-examined. The statement I made is true from beginning to end—the overcoat was only in pawn for half-a-crown—about 2d. was paid—I cannot say how long it had been-in pawn, but it was more than a month.
By Wilson. When Jones said he was sorry you had dropped, as it was the first time you had worked with him, I had no reason to believe what he said.
HERBERT HINE (Detective Officer). On December 27th I arrested Wilson, who has pleaded guilty—I arrested Jones at 12.20 on January 10th—I was with two other officers—I said, "I am a police officer; if your name Jones?"—I took this note shortly afterwards—he said, "No"—I said
"Yes, it is"—he said, "Well, I go by the name of Jones"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "I refuse to tell you"—I said, "You will be taken to the police station and if identified you will be charged with stealing two watches on December 4th from Mr. Baldock, of 31, Holborn Viaduct; in that case you were concerned with George Wilson in stealing pins from Mapleson & Company on December 12th, and on December 23rd from Chandlers some chains"—he said, "No"—I said, "You know Wilson; he is now under trial at the Central Criminal Court for obtaining jewellery from the firms mentioned"—he said, "Yes, I have known Wilson for some time"—on the way to the station he said, "I do not wish to tell you anything now, but I will tell you all about it after I have seen my solicitor"—I said, "You had in your possession a gold cigarette case"—he said, "I did not know Wilson till last month"—at the police station he was put with nine others and identified by Miss Polkes as the man who called for the watches, and by Jennings in the cigarette case case—he was subsequently charged on these charges.
Cross-examined. Later he told me that the man Hill did pawn a cigarette case—I found one had been pledged at Thompsons, on December 11th, by Hill and redeemed two days later by a person unknown—Jones did write from Brixton prison offering to give the police information with regard to the missing property, and he did so.
Jones, in his defence on oath, said that he had no idea he teas dealing with stolen goods; that Hill, who owed him money, handed him the things to pawn, but he denied ordering goods on the telephone, and also the conversation as to Wilson having "dropped" the first time he had done anything with him.
GUILTY, but with a strong recommendation to mercy by the Jury. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on April 4th, 1905. He received a previous good character. To enter into recognisances.
WILSON also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Quarter Sessions, Worcester, on April 7th, 1902, in the name of Patrick Roach. He was proved to have been convicted seventeen times for various offences, and to have been charged twenty times, but stated he had a difficulty in obtaining employment. Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, February 5th.1906.
251. GEORGE VINCENT (40) and THOMAS GIBSON (36) PLEADED GUILTY to being found by night with certain implements of housebreaking in their possession without lawful excuse, Vincent having been convicted of felony at this Court on February 10th, 1902, as Charles Hescott. Six ether convictions were proved against him, commencing in 1879. He was stated to be a most dangerous man and to have struck the officer who arrested him, on the head with a jemmy. Five years' penal servitude.
GIBSON— Twelve months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
New Court, February 5th, 1906.
He was stated to be the brother of William Griffiths. (See page 490.) Four months' hard labour.
New Court, February 6th, 1906.
253. FREDERICK BUSH (40), CHARLES SAXTON (40), and ROSE SAXTON (31) , Feloniously possessing a mould upon which was impressed the obverse side of a shilling for making counterfeit coin, without lawful excuse.
CHARLES SAXTON and BUSH PLEADED GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY . (See next case).
254. FREDERICK BUSH PLEADED GUILTY to possessing fifty-seven counterfeit shillings, knowing them to be false and counterfeit and with intent to utter them, having been convicted at this Court on June 23rd, 1904, for feloniously possessing counterfeit coin.
Three previous convictions were proved against him. Five years' penal servitude. CHARLES SAXTON, against whom a number of previous convictions were proved— Five years' Penal Servitude.
Before His Honour Judge Rentoul, Commissioner.
New Court, February 9th, 1906.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. GREEN Defended.
GUILTY , but not responsible for his actions. To be detained during His Majesty's pleasure ,
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
Old Court, February 7th, 1906.
Before Mr. Justice Button.
Old Court, February 8th, 1906.
MR. GANZ Prosecuted.
live at 17, Henry Street, Battersea—on January 10th last we were all working on a building not far from Barnes railway station—we left off work at 12 a.m. and went to dinner—we sat down to have our dinner and Harry started frying some sausages—while doing so a piece of bread was Chuched at him and he got up and accused the prisoner of doing it—they had a few words and the prisoner punched Henry in the face—I got up and told the prisoner he ought not to punch his brother, as he was weaker thin himself, and that he ought to be taking his part and not knock him about—the prisoner jumped up and said he would fight anyone in the family, and my brother Bill jumped up and said, "Don't put your spite on the two little ones; fight me if you want to fight"—the prisoner said, "I will turn the job up and will be in gaol before 7 o'clock to-night"——that is all I remember, and after dinner he went away and we went back to work—we left off work at 4.30 and about 5 o'clock we got to Clapham Junction railway station—Mr. Cox and my brother Harry were with me; William had walked home—we walked away from the station towards home—I did not see the prisoner, and after I left the station I do not remember anything of what happened—we started walking home and the next I remember was I was at Bolingbroke Hospital and I felt the doctor pulling my head—I discharged myself from the hospital night day about 12.30—my head was bandaged up, but I was not told what was the matter with it—I asked the doctor about a dozen times before he would let me go out.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not know who aimed the piece of bread at Henry, as I was sitting with my back to you and him—Henry did not get up and call me names—you punched him in the jaw, but I did not hit you—I did not say, "Come out in our yard and I will fight you"—three weeks before this a hammer had fallen on to my head as I was walking under a scaffolding—it fell from 5 or 10 feet high and not two stories—it did not hurt me—it did not slightly cut my hat or head and there was no hole in my hat.
HENRY APPLEBY . I live at 17, Henry Street, Battersea, and am a labourer—on January 10th I was at Barnes with Charles and the prisoner—we knocked off work about 12 to go to dinner, and while we were having it, sitting in the mess room, someone threw a lump of bread which hit me in the eye—I got up and accused the prisoner of throwing it and we had a few words and he struck me in the face and knocked me down—Charles jumped up and told him he ought to take my part more than hitting me, and the prisoner said he should throw the work up and see Charles to-night and then he went and drew his money—he said that before 7 o'clock he would be in the South Western police station, as he meant to have brains to-night, but he did not say whose—at 5 p.m. I came out of Clapham Junction railway station, where we had arrived by train with Charles and Mr. Cox—as we were walking across the road we heard a terrible thump on Charles' head and he fell at our feet—as he fell I saw the prisoner run past us with this chopper (Produced) in his hand—this (Produced) is the hat Charles was wearing—I followed the prisoner as far as I could in Falcon Road and then I left off running, and the next I see of him
was when the constable was bringing him back—I then told him he had hit my brother on the head with a chopper, and he said, "I said I would have my b—own back."
Cross-examined. Bill did not tell me who had thrown the bread until after the row—when I got up I told you to leave off and not to do it again or I would throw a brick at your head—I did not call you names or throw a bit of wood at you—Charles did not hit you, but said you ought to know better than to hit me—he did not challenge you to fight in the yard—I have not accused you of having rows with my brother Jack; I only told you once to go and give him a smack in the chaps—I have not caused ail the trouble with my father and mother and brothers—I remember a hammer falling on Charles' head two or three weeks before this, but his head was not cut as far as I could see—Charles did not want to fight the man who had thrown the hammer, and I did not see that he got a lack in his eye.
HERBERT COX . I live at Battersea, and I remember coming out of Clapham Junction railway station on the afternoon of January 10th with Charles and Henry Appleby—I started walking home with them, when someone came behind and hit Charles on the head—I saw the prisoner running away; Charles had dropped down—I noticed that blood was coming down the back of his neck and he was taken to the hospital.
ALFRED FELSTEAD (529 V.) I was on duty at Faloon Road, Battens, on January 10th, about 5 p.m., and saw the prisoner running down the road, carrying this axe—people were running after him and shouting, "Stop him; he has knocked down his brother"—I stopped him and took him to the police station.
Cross-examined. what you said at the station was token down by the station sergeant at Lavender Hill—I should say seven or eight people were running after you.
Cross-examined. I saw nothing of the affair at dinner-time—I was not there as I do not have my food with you—I did not see you hit Chalks with the axe—I cannot say if anybody has sworn that they see you hit him.
STEWART MILL (Sergeant, 45 V.) I remember the prisoner being brought to Lavender Hill station at 5.30 p.m. on January 10th when Felstead in his presence said he had seen him running away in Falcon Road with an axe in his hand; that he had stopped him and some persons came an and said that he had knocked down his brother with the axe—the Prisoner said "My brother has got me the sack; I meant to kill my long brother and bought the axe at Harvey & Thompson's to kill him with"—I charged him with attempting to murder his brother and he made no replay.
Cross-examined. You did not say that you were going to hit your brother—you were suffering from suppressed excitement.
By the COURT. He was not drunk, but he may have been Drinking, although he did not smell of it—he was very strange in his manner, and his suppressed passion.
January 10th—was suffering from slight concussion and he was in a dazed state, but could answer questions—he had a lacerated wound on the top of his head, an inch and a half long—the scalp was completely divided and the bone notched or dented in very slightly—he had no bad symptoms at all and was discharged next day—the instrument which caused the wound was a blunt one and had not a sharp edge—I should say it might have been caused by the back or side of this hatchet—the head must have taken a good deal of the force from the blow, but from the wound there did not seem to have been much force used, and I do not think the blow was a heavy one.
Cross-examined. I said before, that the handle of the axe could have done it—your solicitor asked me if a stone could have done it and I said, "Yes"—the handle of the axe or a stone would have produced the concussion of the brain.'
Evidence for the Defence.
ELIZABETH APPLEBY . I am the prisoner's wife, and at 4.50 p.m. on January 10th I gave my husband 1s. to go to Harvey & Thompson's to buy an axe to chop me up some firewood—he did not return, and I came out, and the next I heard was that his brother was in the hospital and he was in the South Western Police Court—there are four brothers and they cap never agree and are always against the prisoner—we have been married nine years, and whenever he has been on a job where his brothers hare been, there has always been a row picked with him to get him the sack.
FISHER. I am a bricklayer, and in January was working with the prisoner and his brother, on the same job—I was in the mess-room at dinner time on January 10th, when the prisoner's brother, Bill, threw a piece of bread at Henry, who turned round and accused the prisoner of it—the prisoner told him he had not done it and Henry used some abusive language—the prisoner told him to be quiet, but Henry kept on using bad language to him and edging him on, and the prisoner pushed him and then hs brother Charles struck the prisoner from behind and William got his coat off ready to fight and all three then wanted to fight the prisoner—previous to that they had all been throwing nasty snacks at the prisoner when there was no cause—the prisoner left the mess room first and went and got his money and cleared off the job—I heard the prisoner say that he would fight them that night, and those are all the words he used.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that ever since he was a boy his brothers had been down on him; that on January 10th they started aiming bits of bread at him; that Henry accused him of throwing a piece of bread, which was really thrown by William; that Henry had caused rows between their father and mother; that in the mess room he got up and pushed Henry, when Charles pushed and struck him (the prisoner); that in the evening he met his brothers, and Henry picked up a stone and aimed at him; that he (the prisoner) picked up another stone in defence, when Charles at once ran at him, so he (the prisoner) hit Charles en the head with the stone; that five or six people were there and none of them had seen him hit Charles with the hatchet; that he had not done so, and that if he had he would have had more of a would then he had.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. The police Hated that the prisoner, bore an excellent character. Three months' hard labour.
MR. NICHOLSON Prosecuted.
CAROLINE BARRETT . I am a laundry woman, and live at 8, Yeovil Street, Clapham Junction—I have known the prisoner for seventeen years, and on Saturday, January 6th, I was living with him—on that day, about 5.30, he came home the worse for drink—he grumbled about his money and his work and then washed himself and had his tea, and I gave him 6d. and he went out—he came back again and sat down and I put out his supper, but he did not eat it—he hit me in the face, but I took no notice of it, and then I went to go to the washing-stand and he up with a knife and stuck it into me whilst he leant over the table—this (Produced) is the knife; we only had one—he hit me in the neck with the knife and I went backwards and he done it the other side—it cut me, but I did not do anything except sit down in my chair—I could not leave the room because the prisoner stood with his back to the door, to that I could not get out, and I did not try—the prisoner did not say anything except use bad language, which I took no notice of—I did not ask him to let me go out of the room until I found that I had no water; then I said, "Let me go out and get some water, as I feel so faint"—he said I could go out and get some water, but he did not want no copper business—I took the water jug and went downstairs into the back yard, and then I went out of the back gate and saw a constable.
By the COURT. He had been on the drink a long while, and I had not spoken to him for a week, but I got his food ready just the same.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were drunk all the week and you were drunk when you were in the bed rolled up in the quilt—when you stabbed me I did not call out, because I did not want to get notice to leave—I had never had a row in that house, and the people had only heard you falling about the room drunk.
ARTHUR DORIN . I am divisional surgeon at Clapham and saw the prosecutrix—she was suffering from two wounds, one on each side of her neck, that on the right being a superficial incised wound one inch long; it had only penetrated the skin—the wound on the left side was three inches long, the two outer inches being superficial, and the middle inch had got through to the muscle—its position was a very dangerous one, and both wounds might have been caused by this knife—when I was leaving the station the prisoner was in the dock being charged the same evening—I think he knew perfectly well what he was doing—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk then—that was 10.30 p.m. on the Saturday.
Cross-examined. The severity of the wound depends what force you used.
By the COURT. It would not take much force to cause the wound the prosecutrix was suffering from.
Wandsworth Road, and from information received I went to 8, Yeovil Street—I went upstairs and saw the prisoner and informed him I should take him into custody for cutting Caroline Barrett across the neck with a knife—he said, "I never done that; she done that herself, downstairs"—I took him to the station, where he was charged with attempted murder, to which he made no reply—while I was in the room the prosecutrix came upstairs and pointed this knife out to me as the one the prisoner had stabbed her with—that was after I had said I should take the prisoner into custody.
Cross-examined. You were putting your coat on when the knife was pointed out to me.
The prisoner desired to call John Davey, but on the advice of the learned Judge abstained from asking any question with regard to his character. The prisoner put in a written defence, in which he said that the story of the prosecutrix was false; that for some weeks she had accused him of carrying on with another woman, which was not true; that she tried to provoke him to commit a breach of the peace, but found she could not, and he told her he would leave her; that she had come into a public-house and knocked over his glass of beer, and the proprietor of the house tried to persuade her to go home; that he (the prisoner) took her into the street, but she returned and struck the barman and potman; that on January 6th he returned home at 9.30, but the prosecutrix was not there; that when she came in she called him a liar and then snatched up the knife and threatened to put it through him, but he took it away and put it on the table; that she sat down and he started reading a book and continued to read until the police came; that the prosecutrix took a pail of water and went downstairs some minutes before the police arrived, and that when they came they asked him what was the matter, and he said nothing, as far as he was aware; that he knew nothing about stabbing the prosecutrix, and that if he had taken up a knife in a passion the woman would have been seriously wounded.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. The police stated that when the prisoner was in drink he was a quarrelsome man, but when sober worked hard, and that he Had been charged on six occasions for assaulting the prosecutrix, each time when under Pie influence of drink. Six months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Old Court, February 5th, 1906.
259. FREDERICK ERNEST COOPER (25) and CHARLES SMITH (18) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling house of Ernest St. Clair and stealing a quantity of books and other articles, his property; also to breaking and entering the warehouse of Henry Stebbings and stealing 10s. 2d., some shuts and other articles, his property, Smith having been convicted of felony at the South London Sessions on April 20th, 1904, as Ernest Maraey. (See next case.)
MR. MORAN Prosecuted.
HENRY STEBBINGS . I am a laundryman and my laundry is at 47, Church Road, Brixton—I left there about 10.90 p.m. on January 16th, safe, as far as I could see—I left my cheque book in a locked cupboard—I arrived there the next morning at 6.40 a.m., when I found one window up and the latch of another one slipped—I found three cheques were torn from my cheque book—I have not my cheque book here, and I cannot tell you the numbers of the missing cheques, but I recognise this as one of them (Produced)—I found the thieves had taken away a considerable amount of property and they left two shirts and two collars; they had taken a new rig out—this collar, which is one of those left behind, is marked "Success," and its measurements are 2 1/4 inches by 14 inches—on the 18th I was sent for to go to the South Brixton branch of the London & South Western bank, where these cheques were payable—I went on to the police station, where I was shown this cheque filled up—it is, "Pay William Johnstone £15 6s." and is signed "H. H. Stebbings" and indorsed "William Johnstone"; it is dated 10-1-06—it is not in my writing, nor is it written or signed by my authority—it is not very much like my writing.
WILLIAM SMITH . I am cashier at the South Brixton branch of the London & South Western Bank—on January 18th the prisoner came into the bank and asked me to cash a cheque for £15 6s. and handed me this cheque—I asked him how he would like it cashed, and he said he would like £5 in silver—I asked him how he came by the cheque and he said, "I am very sorry; I picked it up"—I saw at once it was not a genuine signature, and we handed him over to the police.
CHARLES HAWKINS (Detective-Sergeant W.) I found the prisoner detained on January 18th—I told him he would be charged with this offence and also with uttering a cheque on the London & South Western Bank—he said, "I picked it up in Church Road at 1 p.m. on the 17th"—I searched him and found this collar (Produced) on him—it is the same size as the one found at the laundry, and it also bean the same name, "Success"—he gave his address as Rowton House, King's Cross—I asked him if he wished to give any explanation why he was in Churoh Road—he said, "I was walking round the shops"—I said, "There are no shops in Church Road, Brixton," and I called his attention to the fact that the cheque was perfectly dry, whereas it had been raining very hard on the night of the 16th—he made no reply to that.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It was not raining at 1.30 p.m. on the 17th, but the ground was very wet—the collar found on you has a different laundry mark to that found at the laundry.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that whilst walking in Church Road, Brixton, he picked up this cheque; that being hard up the next day he endeavoured to cash it, not knowing that it was a forgery; that as to the collar, the one found upon him had a different laundry mark to the one found at the laundry, and that there were hundreds of collars made with to name "Success" upon them.
GUILTY of uttering. The Jury recommended him to mercy on account
of his youth. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the West London Police Court on November 21st, 1904, in the name of Harry Hill, Twelve months' hard labour.
COOPER— Twelve months' hard labour.
SMITH, who was stated to be a very dangerous character— Five years' Penal Servitude.
New Court, February 9th, 1906.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
EDWARD LOWERY (781 V.) I was on duty in Battersea Park Road on January 5th, at 8.15 p.m., when I saw the prisoner acting in a very suspicious manner in company with another man outside a pawnbroker's shop—I kept him under observation and followed him through various streets to Russell Street, where I lost sight of him for fifteen minutes—I stopped in the vicinity of where I first saw him and then I saw him getting into the railway of the London & South Western Railway Company, alone; he went into a little doorway there for the officials of the company, which leads on to the property of the railway company—when I went inside I found various arches which seemed to run into each other—I went through and searched round—it was a very dark place—I discerned a dark object in one of the corners—on coming closer I saw it was the prisoner—I said, "What are you doing here?" and he made no reply, but struck me in the chest and knocked me to the ground—I was partly unconscious for a few seconds, but I regained myself sufficiently to stand up and follow him—when he saw me pursue him he ran away—I caught him by the side of Russell Street; he got about 100 yards away—he said, "It is not your duty to follow me on private property; your duty is on the streets—at the same time he gave me very violent kicks in the shins—a violent struggle then took place, and I managed to get my whistle and blow it—I got the assistance of another constable, who was in plain clothes—when the prisoner saw him, he said, "All right, I will give in; I will go quietly now," and he went quietly the remainder of the way to the station—I was wearing a great coat and uniform—when I got to the station I did not feel so bad at first, but when I was there about fifteen minutes I came over faint and felt very weak—the next morning blood came from my lungs—I was laid up in bed for twelve or thirteen days—I am able to get about now, but not able to go on duty—there is no truth in the statement that the prisoner found me smoking in the railway arch.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was in Russell Street when you went into the arch; you did not see me—I did not stop outside till you came ott, and, when you came out, say to you, "What have you got there?"—you did not say, "What is that to do with you, but if you want to know, it is a bit of meat I am taking home to my wife"—I did not say, "You will come along with me"—you did not say, "What have I done?" and I did not say, "Nothing"—you did not catch hold of the railings outside the
Earl Russell public-house, and as you were pulling I did not hit my chest up against them two or three times—I have no witnesses to prove you assaulted me under the railway arch; there was nobody else there.
ERNEST REW (Sergeant 15 F.) On the night on January 5th I was on duty at the station when Police-Constable Lowery came in, bringing the prisoner—the prisoner was charged with being a suspected person on enclosed premises, and with wounding Police-Constable Lowery—before he was charged he said, "I went on to the railway to ease myself, when the police came in and found me"—after the charge was read of his being on enclosed premises, he said, "When I went on to the railway I found the copper round the corner, smoking"—on reading the charge to him for wounding the constable, he said, "I would have given him some more if I had known it."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It was 8.55 p.m. when you were brought to the station, and it was nearly 10 p.m. when you were charged—I saw the wounds on the constable myself.
ARTHUR RUDD (510 V.) On the night of January 5th I was in plain clothes in Russell Street, Battersea Park, when I heard a police Whistle—I went in the direction of the sound, when I found the prisoner and Police-Constable Lowery struggling—the prisoner had Lowery round the neck, and was striking him very violently—I caught hold of him, and he said, "I will come quietly now," and he came quietly to the station—Lowery said the prisoner had struck him a violent blow in the chest, and the prisoner denied it—I know the entrance to the railway arches; they are a matter of fifty yards from where I saw the prisoner and Lowery.
Cross-examined. You did not have hold of the railings and Lowery was not pulling you away from them—there are some railings there outside the Earl Russell—I did not hear you holloaing to the chaps inside—I never saw two or three come outside.
FELIX CHARLES KEMPSTER . I am divisional surgeon of police at Battersea—directly after 10 p.m. on January 5th I went to the police station and examined Lowery—I found that his fifth rib on the left side was fractured, and around the fractured place there was a swollen, red and recent bruise—the sounds of his heart were very feeble and whistling, such sounds being given off from a bruised heart—he was very faint and appeared weak, so I ordered him on the sick list and sent him to bed—I examined him the next day, and attended him up till the 19th—the next day, the 6th, he started spitting Wood from a lung which had been injured through the fractured rib; the bag of the heart called the pericardium became full of blood, owing to the inflammation set up from the bruising of the muscle of the heart, and caused pericarditis—the heart became glued to the pericardium, causing what is called adherent pericarditis—in consequence of this gluing the heart has to do extra work, and the muscle of the heart became thickened—in consequence of this thickening of this muscle of the heart the left cavity of the heart has now become dilated or stretched—in consequence of this dilation or stretching of the heart the valves of the heart are also stretched and now cannot work in their proper position, and the consequence of that is hypertrophy of the heart, which is a very
bad form of heart disease—I propose to send him to Brighton for three weeks, and he will not be able to work for some time—if he has proper rest, he will be able to resume his duties in a month or six weeks—there will be a permanent injury to these organs, and he will always have pain on exertion, and shortness of breath; he will have to be careful—the lung has healed up all right, but it will always remain adherent—direct violence of a very severe nature must have been used to inflict these wounds; I have known injuries of such a nature to have been caused by the fist—if he were hurled with considerable violence against a projection it might have caused the wounds, but I found no evidence of his clothing having been pierced—it is absolutely impossible for it to have been caused by his knocking himself—it would be impossible for him to have fallen against the railings in the way described; he would have fallen the other way.
Cross-examined. I was called at 10 p.m., and I arrived at the station at 10.15 p.m.—it would have been possible for him to have stood from 8.40 till 10 p.m.; the symptoms of the spitting of blood and the swelling of the heart did not show themselves till next day—he has not been on duty since.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that after having had a drink with a friend at the Earl Russell public-house he went into these railway arches to ease himself, when he found Police-Constable Lowery smoking; on his coming out he asked him (the prisoner) what he was doing, and he said that he was taking a piece of meat home to his wife, given him by a friend; that a struggle ensued outside the Earl Russell, when he (the prisoner) caught hold of the railings and called to his friend George in the public-house; that another constable arrived, and that he had no intention of hurting Police-Constable Lowery; that he was not in these railway arches for the purpose of stealing, as there was nothing to steal; that he had been convicted twice before, but that he had been in drink to each case, which caused him to commit the offences of which he had been convicted,
Evidence for the Defence.
DANIEL MEAD (By the COURT). I am a general labourer, of 29, Alfred Street, Battersea Park Road—on the evening of January 5th I came from home between 7.30 and 7.40 p.m., when I met the prisoner, whom I asked to have a drink at the Eagle public-house—the prisoner refused, but he said, "You come down as far as the Earl Russell public-house"—we went down there, as I had got some friends to meet there—we stopped till 8.10 p.m., when the prisoner was asked by his friends to have another drink, but he refused and said, "Good-night," and went away—about five minutes after I heard a police whistle blown—I looked outside and saw the prisoner hanging onto the railings with one hand and appealing to the friends to let him (the policeman) know that he was in the public-house—the constable was pulling the other hand, and asking him to come to the station—a minute after a man in plain clothes came to his assistance; I do not know whether he was a civilian or not—the prisoner was still holding on to the railings, but he had to take his hands off, and the other constable in plain clothes seized him by the collar and arm—he went quietly to the station—I never see any violence whatever—the railings in front of the
public-house are 3 feet, 6 inches high, and about 40 yards from the door where the prisoner was taken from.
Cross-examined. I saw no harm done to the constable—I certainly cannot speak as to what was done in the arch.
WILLIAM JOHN GODWIN (By the COURT). I am a furniture remover, of 12, Torrington Grove, Battersea—I do not wish the name of the firm I work for mentioned—I met the prisoner in the Earl Russell public-house on this night of January 5th and asked him to have a drink and he had one—I was with him, Jim, and his wife and mother—I asked him to tare another drink before he went out, but he said, "No, I am going home," and we wished each other "Good-night"—he left about 7.45—I sat down and was talking to my friends when I heard a police whistle blow—I looked out at the door and I See a crowd of people there, but I did not take any notice; I went back into the public-house again—that is all I know about it.
HERBERT DARRATT (By the COURT). I am a secondhand clothes dealer—about &15 p.m. I went into the Earl Russell, where I saw one of the other witnesses—I had a drink with him, and a very short time afterwards I heard a police whistle blown—I went outside and went as far as two steps from the door, when I saw the prisoner hanging on to the railings with his hand and the constable trying to wrest him away from it, struggling with him—I went back into the public-house and drank up my beer—by that time the policeman had received assistance and the prisoner was escorted to the station—I went home—I was very unwilling to come and give evidence, but I was subpœnaed—I have lost a week's wages through this.
Cross-examined. I saw no violence on either side.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Newington Sessions on March 15th, 1905. A previous conviction was proved against him. The police stated that he was a hard-working man except when he gave way to drink. Twenty months' hard labour.
Second Count. Maliciously wounding him with intent to disable him. Third Count. Wounding him with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.
ARTHUR COLE (823 V.) At 3 p.m. on January 11th I was on duty in York Road, Battersea, when I saw the prisoner under the influence of drink—some trenches were being dug in the road for laying an electrical cable for the tramway, and the prisoner was walking from one gang of men to another; he seemed as if he wanted to treat them, and when they refused he quarreled with them—I asked him if he would go away like a sensible—I caught hold of his left arm and tow nun I should take him to the station—he threw himself on the pound sod began to struggle—a crowd got round and. a private individual I came to my assistance; he is not here—man, and he said, "I will knock your f——head off"—he was staggering
the prisoner tried to punch me with his right arm and he was kicking, but I could not say whether he was kicking intentionally at me—he did not touch me then—Detective Pritchard also appeared on the scene in plain clothes and caught hold of the prisoner's other arm—I said to the prisoner, "Get up and walk quietly," and he said, "Yes, I will"—we went on a few yards, when he said, "No, I am dashed if I will," and threw himself on the ground again and started kicking, saying, "I will kick your f——brains out"—the crowd got round—in trying to restrain him from kicking, Detective Pritchard was kicked over the right eye—I then sent for more assistance and for the ambulance—he was strapped down on the ambulance—he was more savage and mad than incapable—the private individual had lent his belt to tie his legs together—Detective Pritchard had hold of his right arm, and, I believe, was stooping down, trying to restrain him when he received the kick on the right eye.
Cross-examined. He was mad drunk.
ELI PRITCHARD (Detective V.) On the afternoon of January 11th I was attracted by seeing a struggle; I saw Cole and a gentleman struggling with the prisoner, who was biting and kicking—I was in plain clothes—I took the prisoner by the right arm and said, "Iam a police officer. Don't be a silly man. Walk quietly"—we lifted him up and he walked a few wards very quietly—then he said, "I am f——if I do," and he threw himself on his back and said, "Let go of my hands or I will kick your f——brains out"—I got my hand into his mouth somehow and I have still got the marks—he kicked me on the forehead and caused me a very bad cut—he was absolutely mad drunk—he also kicked at Cole; his foot just went by the side of his face—I was kneeling on his thigh and I called to the crowd to assist me—one of his fellow workmen took his belt off and strapped his legs—he was taken to the station on the ambulance.
Cross-examined. I was told he attacked his other workmen before Cole took him in charge—some of the crowd called out that I was kneeling on his private parts, but I was only kneeling on his thigh—it was a very hard job to get him to the station—I know that he has been in constant employment ever since he has been in work, and that he has got a wife and three or four children—as far as we know, he is an honest and hardworking labouring man—he was put into the cell after he was charged, and he was very violent.
Re-examined. After he kicked me I knelt on his leg—at the time the kick was given I was simply trying to prevent him kicking and biting me; I was stooping over him.
By the COURT. He was frothing at the mouth with temper.
ALFRED CONSTANT . I am a labourer—on the afternoon of January 11th I was in York Road, Battersea, where there was some work going on for the new tramway—I saw the prisoner come along the road and go down the trench—presently I see a man come up with blood on his face, but whether from his nose or mouth I cannot say—his coat was torn—the prisoner came out of the trench and the constable takes hold of him; he was very drunk—a private gentleman name up and catches hold
of him, and then Detective Pritchard comes and the gentleman goes away—they got falling about, and he tried to kick and bite—they got him across the road, when he threw himself down again—he used offensive language, and said he would kick their brains out—he then kicked up with both legs and kicked Detective Pritchard on the head—I went for assistance and when I came back the prisoner was lying on the ground with his legs strapped—I waited till the ambulance came—I caught hold of the prisoner's foot and helped him on to the ambulance, and he was taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I heard the crowd cry out, "Take your knee off his stomach"—it was a very great struggle to arrest him; the officers had all their work cut out—he was kicking in all directions and waving his arms about—he was mad drunk—he is a perfect stranger to me Re-examined. When someone in the crowd shouted out for Detective Pritchard to take his knee off the prisoner's stomach I was close against the prisoner's feet—the officer was not kneeling on his stomach; he was kneeling on his thigh—that was after the kick had been given—I saw the detective's eye bleeding.
FELIX CHARLES KEMPSTER . I am divisional surgeon of police—at about 5.30 p.m. on January 11th I was called to the station, when I examined Pritchard—he had three severe contused wounds on the right side of his forehead, the three of them together measuring 2 1/2. inches—they were all three down to the bone—one of them, the most severe, was a star-shaped wound—he was then recovering from the effects of concussion; his pupils were dilated, and as I was dressing his wounds he was violently sick—he also had two abrasions on his thumb, which might have been caused by a man's teeth—his thumb was also badly sprained—he was on the sick list fourteen days, being in bed three or four days afterwards—he is all right now, but one can never tell what may happen after concussion of the brain—I examined the prisoner and found turn to be suffering from the effects of drink—he said, "I have been a teetotaller; I have touched nothing for two years"—he offered to fight a constable and endeavoured to reach him from the dock—he was drunk with excitement when I saw him at 5.30 p.m.; he was recovering from the effects of drink then.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he had been in constant work since he started; that on the day in question he met two friends whom he had not seen for a long time, with whom he had one drink, which led to several others; that for two years and seven months previously he had been a teetotaller, and the drink had a very strong effect on him; that he remembered coming outside, but could not remember any of the circumstances of his arrest; and that he was very sorry for any injury that he had caused to Detective Pritchard, but that he had no intention of so doing.
Evidence for the Defence.
him—he is a very steady workman, and I never knew him guilty of a cowardly action—to my knowledge he never tasted drink until this day for two years—he met two friends, and I saw them all go into a public-house—at 2.15 p.m. he came out, staggering drunk.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. The Jury recommended him to mercy, on account of his good character. Six months' hard labour.
Old Court, February 10th, 1906.
263. WILLIAM HENRY WELLS (29) , Fraudulently obtaining from Edward Arthur Richard Gohegan orders for the payment of £13, £10, and £8, and the sum of £5 in money; from Arnold Herbert Keevil, a grey gelding, and from Andrew Wyatt Payne two sacks of oats and other goods, in each case by means of false pretences and with intent to defraud. Second Count. Unlawfully obtaining credit from Joseph Marsh and another by means of false pretences.
EDWARD ARTHUR RICHARD GOHEGAN . I am a coal merchant in Fulham—I went in answer to an advertisement in the "Daily Telegraph" to the prisoner's address, 17, Thornton Road—I saw him there—on the following day I received a letter from him (Produced) and on December 23rd he came to see me and gave me this card, which stated his name was "W. H. Wells, Carman and Contractor, 17, Thornton Road"—he said he had had the bay mare, which he had advertised, for nine months; he had given £40 for it and had had it at work—he warranted it an honest sound working mare—the reason he gave me for parting with her was that he was going to change his business and turn his stables into a riding school—I believed his card and his statements, and I agreed to give him £18 for the mare without seeing it, on his warranty—I gave him £5 in gold and a cheque for £13, and he promised to send her to me on the Tuesday, the day after Christmas Day, December 26th; this was December 23rd—it failed to arrive on that day—I sent over on Wednesday afternoon and brought the mare back—it was a cart mare which had a big leg behind—it would not work; it was useless—it would not go on, nor back—I put it in a four-wheeled empty coal trolley, but it would not move; it would go on and keep stopping—I tried it on the 27th and again on the 28th, and I then sent it back on the Friday with a message to the prisoner—I sent my man over to him on January 1st and he brought a message back that the prisoner would see me at 12 down at my place—he came, and I said, "Here is a nice to do. A lot of trouble you have put me to. The mare would not move at all"—he said, "I tried it in a cart and I found the same; I cannot make it out"—I said, "The best thing to do is to settle up," and he said, "You might just as well buy a horse off me as anybody else. I will settle up first"—when he came to the point he found he only had a sovereign on him, which he gave me, giving me this I.O.U. for the balance, £17, on the condition that another horse would be sent over in the morning—it did not come and I Went over to see him and I said, "How about that hone?"—he said
it had not arrived, so I said, "You had better let me have the other one back"—he says, "Well, what about the other one?" so I bought the other one, which was a roan mare, which he said was a very hardworking mare and which he had had at work—I saw him on the following Wednesday and gave him £35 for it; I gave him two cheques for £10 and one for £8, cancelling the I.O.U. for £17—I took the roan back with me and tried her—he would not let me try her before I took it back—I found her to be a jibber also; as soon as she got on a bit of soft stuff she stopped—I have had to send her home and get another horse; she was perfectly useless—the reason that made me part with my money a second time was that I thought he was a carman and contractor and a responsible man, and I believed what he said—one of the £10 cheques I succeeded in stopping—I still hold the roan mare; I am afraid I should not get much for it.
Cross-examined by MR. JENKINS. From £40 which he said he paid for the bay mare to £18 he sold it to me for, did not seem to me a big reduction, because he said the mare had had an accident and had got a big leg—nobody could help seeing that; one leg was twice the size of the others—when I said he had better let me have it back again I wanted to see if I could not get it to work, and I was rather busy and I wanted it—I had satisfied myself it was perfectly hopeless, but I wanted it back because I did not see any likelihood of any other horse coming; I was doubtful of getting my money back—I could get the horse to take an empty trolley backwards and forwards to the station at times and I wanted it till the other one came—it was no good for anything else—it would only pull an empty trolley all right at times—I cannot say if it was a green horse—my idea of a green horse is a horse that is turned out into the fields, or a horse not broken in—according to the prisoner this horse was four years old—the roan mare is still in my stables and has been there since the 3rd of last month—I have had it out day after day in a coal trolley, not always empty—on a hard road it will pull a ton, but as soon as it gets on a soft bit it will stop dead—a good many horses will do that if they are overloaded perhaps—a horse of this description ought to pull two tons, but it has not got the heart to do it—I never started any civil proceedings for this money, because the I.O.U. said till January 18th—I went to the police and made a complaint of my own accord before I got the roan mare, about January 1st—I swear that Gillan never came to me first—after I had been to the police station Gillan did not come and ask me to give evidence as regards my one—they said when I went to the station they could not see the case was clear and I went away—I did not see Gillan; I saw the officer in charge behind the desk.
Re-examined. I pointed out the bay mare's big leg to the prisoner and asked him about it—I had seen the mare the night before, but I had not seen the prisoner—I thought it was better to have the hone back than nothing at all.
mare—the prisoner said that he had had the horse nine months, and had given £40 for it—he said he was a carman and contractor—he said he wanted to sell it because he was turning his stables into a riding school—he said he had been working it in a tip cart—I did not see my husband pay him the money—I saw the horse tried, but it would not work; it stood still—when my husband found this out he took it out—he did not try it a second time—my husband has got the roan—I am talking about the horse that he has got now.
Cross-examined. It will not pull a coal cart a bit—I saw the bay mare put into the trolley, but it would not work at all—the roan is a miserable horse—I do not understand much about horses—I swear without the slightest doubt that it is not in the habit of pulling a ton of coal.
Re-examined. I help to look after my husband's business, taking orders in the office, where it is my duty to sit.
HENRY CREED . I am a painter, and occasionally assist Mr. Gohegan in his business—I saw him try to work the bay mare, but it would not pull the trolley; it would not go either one way or the other—I was present on New Year's Day when the prisoner came about this mare—he said to Mr. Gohegan, "I have come to see about the bay mare what you sent back. I cannot make it out. I have had her nine months hard at work at the tip cart and I tried it myself. You are quite right what you said; she would not pull a cart. You might as well buy a horse off me as anybody else"—he said he was a carman and contractor and that he had paid £40 for this mare nine months ago—it had a swollen leg, which I should not say would improve its value—I saw him hand Mr. Gohegan the I.O.U.—I was present when Mr. Gohegan asked to have the bay mare back again and the prisoner said he could not have it as he had partly sold it again—I saw the roan mare in an empty trolley cart at Thornton Road; sometimes it would pull it a little bit on a hard road, but when it comes to a soft road it would not pull at all; you have to take it out and get another horse to pull.
Cross-examined. It will not pull a ton of coal on a hard road; it will not move at all with that—I was present when the police came to Mr. Gohegan—Mr. Gohegan had been to the police station and I myself went there to find the prisoner's address—this was after the first transaction—I did not look upon the roan mare as a second transaction after that; Mr. Gohegan wanted either to get the bay mare or his money back, and when he got the chance to get the roan mare in exchange for the bay he took it and paid the difference.
Cross-examined. The bay mare was four years old—she was too young really to work; she had no vice—I put her in a van three times when she was three years old and she done it on the hard all right, but, being young, she would not do the soft—she either jumped a fence or got kicked and she got a swelled leg—she is green, which means that she wants proper handling—I have never seen her jib, only when she was put in a very bad place
such as a very soft road; she would not have it in the collar—she wanted breaking in—if she had not a big leg she would be worth £40—of course a horse is worth about as much as you can get for it—she really ought not to have been put to work till she was five years old—this big leg made her bad selling—I gave £18 for the roan mare—on a hard road she would pull anything, but when she got on to the soft she was the same as the bay mare—she is eight years old and was worth about £25 to £30.
Re-examined. The bay mare ought to work properly on a hard road; she done it for me—she was fit to go to work on the hard road, but our job n not always on the hard road; sometimes we have very bad roads and they are very hard to pull up.
By the COURT. I am just on the borders of the county, where there an county roads, but she would have worked all right in London.
ARNOLD HERBERT KEEVIL . I am a corn merchant, of 149, High Road. Streatham—on Tuesday, January 9th, the prisoner came to my shop and said that he had heard I had a horse for sale; his man saw one working in one of Mr. Bell's carts—he had heard that Mr. Bell had not bought it and asked if it was for sale, as he had heard it was a good puller—he said he was a carman and contractor and he had a lot of work for horses in chains, pulling-out work—I said the horse was a very good puller—as a matter of fact, my reason for selling it was that it was too free for the pair-horse work that I had bought it for," and consequently it would be just suited to a single job, where it would be pulling out of shoots—I gave him my card and he gave me his business address as 48, North Road, but he said he had not enough accommodation for his horses; he was having another place altered for him—he said he had three or four hones all the time in the chains, pulling out—horses in the chains would imply that they would be pulling at a cart to assist the horse in a difficult position—I said the very lowest price I could take for the horse was £26, and he said no doubt he would buy it; the only thing that remained was, would I be contented to let him have a day's trial; he had heard a very good account of it and he was satisfied with that, but for his own self he would like to see it—I let him have the horse, believing that he was a carman and contractor, and that he had several horses working in the business; I would not have allowed it to go but for that—I sent it by a man to Tooting the following morning—I received a telephone message later in the day from the prisoner, saying that the horse had not turned up quite to time and he was afraid he should not be able to give it a trial that day—that aroused my suspicion, and later on I was communicated with by the police, who said that the man was not what he said he was, and they went afraid I had made a mistake.
By the COURT. I am sorry if I did not tell the Magistrate that he said he would return it the same day, but that was the fact.
Cross-examined. That was unquestionably the fact—he came on the 9th, between 10 and 11 a.m.—the horse went out that morning in my pair-horse van at 8 a.m.—I am certain he got possession of it the next day, because my lad delivered it up to him, certainly not in the presence of a police officer—my man told me he had delivered it to him; I was not
there—the police took possession of it and I have got it back and have since sold it—I should not have let the horse go without the money if I had not felt satisfied that he was what he said he was—I cannot say that I expected him to pay me before he had tried it.
JOHN GILLAN (Detective-Sergeant V.) About 12.45 p.m. on January 10th I was on duty in High Street, Merton, when I saw the prisoner get off a bus—I kept him under observation and saw him go over and take possession of a grey gelding—I went up to him—he was holding the reins, speaking to another man, who left—I said to the prisoner, "Whom does that horse belong?"—he said, "It belongs to me. Whom do you think it belongs to?"—I was in plain clothes MR. JENKINS submitted that this evidence was inadmissible, since no caution had been administered to the prisoner. The RECORDER held that it was admissible, but cautioned the witness to give only what was absolutely material to the charge)—I said to him, "Where are your stables?"—he said, "In North Road. I have got several horses and carts round there. I have been doing a bit of contracting work"—I then said, "You will have to satisfy me as to whom the horse belongs. Take me round to your stables"—we went round to Bell's yard in North Road, and when he took me to his stables I said, "Where are the horses you refer to?"—he opened the stable and showed me two old horses—I said, "But you said you had others"—he said, "That is all I have got," referring to the grey gelding, the subject of this charge, which was then in the yard—Bell then came into the yard and I said to him, in the prisoner's presence, "Bell, to whom do these two horses belong?"—he said, "Well, they belong to me, but I have let this man have them to sell for me"—I said to the prisoner, "You will have to satisfy me whom the horse belongs to, but otherwise I am going to take you to the police station, pending inquiries"—the prisoner said, "You don't want to do that. You have known me a number of years. I will tell you where I got the horse from. I got it from a corn merchant at Streatham. I told him I was a large carman and contractor and had several horses working chain work, and was doing a big job"—on the way to the station he gave me Mr. Keevil's card and said, "That is the owner of the hone. Let me take it to the owner; it is all right"—I went to see Mr. Keevil and he got his horse back again—when the charge was read to the prisoner he said, "I did tell Mr. Keevil I was a carman and contractor"—I have known him for five years and during that time he has never done any carman or contractor's work to my knowledge.
Cross-examined. All that he told me about the horse was true—he did not say that he had the horse for one day on trial—he had had the horse in his custody four or five minutes—I did not know the man he was speaking to was Mr. Keevil's man; if I had had anybody with me I was going to detain that man too and question him; I was certainly not going to arrest him; I should have made inquiries as to what he was doing with the horse—I should have cross-examined him without cautioning him if I had had assistance—I suppose it was true in a sense when he said the horse belonged to him.
assistant—on Tuesday, January 9th, the prisoner came into Mr. Keevil's shop; I was assistant to Mr. Keevil then—I was present at some of the conversation that passed between them—the prisoner said, "I hear you have a horse for sale"—Mr. Keevil said, "Yes, I have"—first of all the prisoner said he was a carman and contractor at Wimbledon, and that one of his men had seen the horse working in one of Mr. Bell's carts and thought it would be a likely horse to send him—they stood talking a little while and Mr. Keevil went out with him—when they came back the prisoner said that he had a lot of pulling-out work to do, and it required four or five chain horses.
JOHN FREDERICK MILLIDGE . I live at 17, Thornton Road, Wimbledon, and I have some stabling which I let to a Mr. Cox on December 11th at £2 10s. a month—after he took possession the prisoner came there and they had horses in the stables and carte in the coach-house—they left me on January 9th and I have not seen anything of them since—they did not pay any rent for the period they occupied my stable—I should say neither of them did any contracting work whilst they were there; they took out a horse and an empty cart once or twice for the purpose of trying the horse.
Cross-examined. They had one cart there—really Cox has got the table still.
Re-examined. Whilst they were with me I saw this card: "W. H. Wells, Carman and Contractor, 17, Thornton Road."
PHILIP BELL . I am a carman and contractor, of 110, Garfield Road, Wimbledon, and have known the prisoner for a long time by sight; I have seen him at horse sales—it was on my premises that Detective Gillan came with him; I had known the prisoner to speak to about seven or ten days before that—he said he was a horse dealer and I let him a yard which I had empty, at 10s. a week, and I sold him two horses at £10 each and one at £15; they were a light bay, a dark brown horse, and a dark brown mare—he had only been a day or two at my yard and I never saw him do anything in the nature of carman's or contractor's work because I was not much in the yard.
By the COURT. I did not care for what purpose they used the yard, provided I was paid—I had two carts there, but he had none—he had one big horse in a field besides the three I sold him.
Cross-examined. He could have worked the three horses he bought from me and I was willing to lend him my carts if he wanted to do contracting business—I believe he said something about wanting to get contracting business—I was hiring about forty or fifty horses a day, and I told him I would give him some work if he had horses and carte to do it—if he had come to me and asked me to lend him money to buy a horse with I would have lent it to him—I had Mr. Keevil's horse at my place on trial; he asked £27 for it and I offered him £14—if the prisoner had bought it at a reasonable price, I would have bought it from him and given him something for his trouble.
and am in Mr. Keevil's employ—he gave me instructions on the morning of January 10th to take a grey gelding to Merton—I took it to the Four Cross Roads, Merton, and the prisoner was not there, but on my return I met him getting off a 'bus—he came up to me and said, "I did not meet you on the road "; he was supposed to come and meet me—there was a sack on the horse and I said, "Do you want the sack?"—he said he did not—I said, "I have a paper for you to sign," and I gave him a paper to acknowledge the receipt of the horse—he said, "That will be all right," but he did not sign it—Gillan followed up about a dozen yards or so behind—he came up to us, and had a conversation with the prisoner and they both went off—he did not speak to me; he did not know who I was.
Cross-examined. Mr. Keevil's name was on the sack—by the time I got off the horse and asked the prisoner to sign the paper Gilland came up.
ALICE DUFNELL . I live at 12, Hartfield Crescent, Wimbledon—on December 27th the prisoner and a man named Miles came and took a room at my place at 5s. a week—they stayed a fortnight and I gave them notice to go; they paid the first week—the prisoner did not appear to be at work at all—he told me he was a carman and contractor.
[The Jury intimated with regard to this count they did not think there was any necessity to go into it.]
ANDREW WYATT PAIN . I am a corn merchant's manager and live at 53, High Street, Wimbledon—on or about December 13th the prisoner came into my shop and presented this card (Produced), which stated he is a carman and contractor, of 17, Thornton Road—he told me he was a carman and contractor in a big way of business and he had got stabling at Thornton Road, where he had two or three horses, and he had five or six horses at work for Mr. Bell, which were not at the stabling at Thornton Road—he bought some forage for horses and paid 7s. 6d.—he came in again on the 16th and gave an order for a sack of oats and a cwt. of chaff, value 12s. 6d., which was delivered at Thornton Road—I gave him credit, believing in what he told me, that he was a carman and contractor in a big way of business—on the 18th he came and ordered a quarter of a ton of hay, value £1 2s. 6d., for which I gave him credit—on the 19th he called and ordered some bran and straw, the value of which would be something like 6s. 5d.—the total amount in my books is £2 12s. 4d.—I have been round to his stables at Thornton Road several times to get money from him and he said he could not pay because he had not got any money—I applied for payment first about the 23rd—I only gave him eight days' credit.
By the COURT. If he had said he was only in a small way of business and kept only one horse, I should certainly have hesitated to let him have credit for 6s. 5d. worth of bran.
Cross-examined. I am serious in saying that I was deceived by this man—when I first went round for payment he owed me 6s. 5d. for the first lot of stuff.
The Jury, intimating that they thought it ought to be a civil case, found a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
264. JAMES BLUETT (24), FREDERICK BALLER (22), and THOMAS HOUSTON (24) , Feloniously breaking and entering the shop of Maurice Woolfe and stealing therein six suits of clothes and eight overcoats, his property. Second Count. Feloniously receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen.
HOUSTON PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. MACLEOD Prosecuted; MR. FITZGERALD Defended Bluett.
ALFRED HENRY HAROLD . I am the manager to Maurice Woolfe. tailor and clothier, of 17, The Quadrant, Richmond—on the evening of December 2nd I closed up the premises at 11.10 p.m., leaving them secure—nobody was left there till Monday morning—I came there on December 4th at 9 a.m., when in the course of the morning I missed eight overcoats and six suits of clothes which had been there on December 2nd—all these clothes (Produced) are my employer's property—I gave information to the police—entrance seemed to have been made through the back window, which was closed, but not secured—the window led to the rear of the premises—there is a road at the back, and to get to the window would mean getting on to the outhouses—the value of the goods missing is £22, and that recovered £12 14s.
JAMES NEWLOVE (Sergeant V.) On December 4th I received information of this shop breaking and I went to 17, The Quadrant, Richmond—I examined the premises and found that entry had apparently been effected by someone scaling the backyard of No. 16, next door, and then going across the roof of an outhouse which led to the back of No. 17; there were some footmarks on the wood leading across to the outhouse; they were footmarks of more than one person, but it is impossible to say with certainty, as the wood was old, green and sodden—I examined the back window on the first floor of No. 17, which had possibly not been opened for some considerable time before, and found it had been opened and it was clear from the disturbance of the dust that someone had passed through; it had not been securely fastened—by entering that room they could walk downstairs to the shop.
REGINALD JUDE BIDDISCOMBE . On December 4th I met Bailer, whom I know, in the Kew Road, near the Tamo Shanter public-house—he had a brown paper parcel with him and he asked me if I would go and pawn it for him for 6s., telling me to give the name of Cook, Cambridge Cottages, Kew Green—I took it into Mr. Clair's shop, where I saw the assistant—Baller had told me the parcel contained overcoats—the assistant made a communication to me and I went outside and told him he was to go in—he said, "No fear; if I were you I would go straight home"—he went away and I went home, leaving the things with the pawnbroker—I only know him by sight; I have only been living in Richmond ten or twelve weeks.
Cross-examined by Baller. I did not go with you to fetch the parcel from King's Cottages, Kew—you did not tell me to say King's Cottages, Kew, when pawning the parcel—the shop assistant sent me outside to fetch the owner—I did not like to go back and tell him you would not come—I did not say to you when you told me if you were me you would go home, "I shall alter my quiff in case they pick me out."
ERNEST PRING . I am assistant to Mr. Clair, pawnbroker, of 47, Kew Road—about 6.50 p.m. on December 8th a young fellow very much resembling Biddiscombe, but I would not swear to him, came in with a brown paper parcel—I undid it and found this overcoat inside (Produced) in an absolutely new condition, but the tab had been evidently torn out, as some loose threads were still hanging—that excited my suspicion and I declined to deal with the matter—he went out and never returned; I kept possession of the coat—on the following day Detective Sergeant Urben came in with the ticket of an overcoat that had been pledged on December 4th for 7s. with us—I would not be certain whether Baller or Houston pawned it; one or other of those two pawned it.
REGINALD ARTHUR BLISS . I am a pawnbroker's assistant at the shop of Amy Bliss, of 31, King's Road, Twickenham—on December 4th there was a suit of clothes pawned in the name of John Bowen, 23, Heath Road, for 10s.—on December 11th there was a pair of trousers pledged for 3s. in the name of George Hutchins, 3, Garfield Road—I have given up this clothing to the police.
By the COURT. I do not identify any of the prisoners.
FRANK MOTT . I am a pawnbroker's assistant at Mr. MacKary's shop in High Street, Mortlake—on December 4th a blue suit of clothes was pawned in the name of Taylor—I cannot say by whom, but I remember it was an English fellow.
ALBERT TILLER . I am a billposter and employed at the Richmond Theatre—I know all the prisoners by sight, but I have known Bluett five or six years—on December 18th he came and said to me that he knew a man who had some articles for sale—I said, "Are they all right, because I have got to study my position?"—he said, "I would not come and tell you a thing like that unless I knew they were right"—he said they were clothing, but I did not know what they were till Wednesday morning, when I saw two overcoats and two coats and vests—he said he would see the man between Monday night and Tuesday night and he would leave them at my address—I did not see him call, but I found the clothes there—he said the man wanted 25s. for them and I told him I would give him £1; I had not seen the articles then—I gave him £1—I sold two coats and vests and an overcoat to a man named Davis, for 35s.; the other overcoat I wore until the police came, and I gave it to them.
Cross-examined. I was not at all suspicious of their having been honestly come by—I had bought small articles in the same sort of way before—Bluett told me they were misfits, and I told Davies that.
Cross-examined by Baller. Bluett told me he was selling them for another man—I saw some of them were new, but that did not arouse my suspicion.
ALLEN DAVIES . I work at the Richmond Theatre—about a week before Christmas I bought an overcoat, two jackets and two waistcoats for 35s. from Tiller—he told me that he was selling for another man and they were misfits—the police came and took them—I lost my money.
Cross-examined by MR. FITZGERALD. I had had them in my possession nearly three weeks.
JOSEPH PINCHAM . I am a gardener, of 5, Paradise Cottages, Richmond, where Tiller lodges—on the Tuesday before Christmas before he went out he said he was expecting a parcel—between 7 and 8 p.m. a young man brought a parcel—he asked whether Tiller was in and I said, "No" and he asked me to take the parcel in—it was a dark court and I did not see him—I put the parcel on Tiller's table—the young man gave no name—I cannot say I have seen either Baller or Bluett before.
GEORGE URBEN (Detective-Sergeant V.) On the evening of January 10th saw Bailer and told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with others in breaking into Woolfe's premises—he said, "You have made a bloomer this time. Where did you get your information?"—"bloomer" is a slang term for a mistake—on the Green, Richmond, with another officer I arrested Baller and told him the same thing, and he said, "All right, do as you like.
Cross-examined by Baller. You made no statement that you pawned any of these articles.
Bluett said before the Magistrate: "Between the 2nd and 4th I am charged with breaking and entry. At the station I gave no address because I did not want it known because of my relations. On the Monday and Tuesday before Christmas I was working on the Barnes Local Board, and it took me three-quarters of an hour to get home from when I was working. After having my tea I came out between 7.30 and 8 on the Monday night. On the Tuesday I arrived home at 7.30 and came out after my tea at 8.30. On Wednesday morning I went to work without any breakfast, having no food all that day. I finished work on the Friday morning. On the Saturday, between 1 and 6, I was in a shop just outside St. James Park station, where I bought some things, and arrived at Richmond between 7.30 and 8. As for breaking and entering, I have no more to do with it than you have. On the 2nd and 4th of December I was at home at the time that this breaking and entering occurred." Baller said: "On the Saturday night, the 2nd December, I met Thomas Houston at the Station Hotel. He said, 'Are you going to have a drink?' I said, 'Yes.' I said, 'You have got some money, ain't you?' He said, 'I have got a couple of shilling.' I kept in his company till 11 o'clock. We then came out of the Station Hotel and went down home. I got up on Sunday about 2 o'clock, and soon after a soldier sent round for me to go and see him because he was going back to Jersey. I went round and saw him and we went up the town together and had a few drinks till 3 o'clock. We then went home again and had dinner, and I stopped in till about 6.30. I then came out and went and met him again, went up the town again until about 10 o'clock, and then went home and went to bed. I got up next morning about 10.30 and went up the town, and outside the Station Hotel I saw Thomas Houston. He said, 'Fred, come
with me. I will get you a couple of shillings.' I said, 'Where to?' He said, 'Twickenham.' We went together to this pawnshop and he showed me some clothing which he said he was going to pawn. We made up a parcel and pawned it for 10s., came back to Richmond and took two suits and pawned one at Mortlake for 13s. He then said, 'Come up to King's Gross and I will do the other suit in.' I said, 'No.' I then met the soldier and saw him off at the station about 9 o'clock p.m. and then stopped in the station till 11. On Monday or Tuesday before Christmas I met a man and said, 'Do you know anybody that wants to buy some clothes?' He said, 'Yes, if they are any good,' so I took him and showed him two waistcoats and two overcoats. He said, 'I know a man who will buy them.' I said, 'Is he safe?' He said, 'He is all right. I have sold him things before.' He took these things to Tiller's house. I said, 'Ask him 25s. for them.' He took them to his house and we went to the theatre to see Tiller. Tiller gave the man 3s. I said, 'We do not want this in dribs and drabs; we want it in a lump.' He said he would give me half a sovereign on Saturday and the rest on Monday. We then went up the town and he left me. Bluett has nothing to do with it. I saw this man on the Saturday. I said to him. 'Have you got that half sovereign?' and he said, 'No, I have not sent it.' I have not seen him since."
Bluett, in his defence on oath, said that he had had nothing to do with breaking and entering these premises; that on Monday, December 11th, he met Batter, whom he had known three years, who told him that he had several lots of clothes to sell and asked him to procure a purchaser; that he sold some to Tiller for £1, portions of which he received at different times, receiving a small sum for himself; that he was a had carrier and he had been in constant employment when his health, which was bad, permitted him to be; and that he had no reason to suppose that these clothes were stolen property.
Baller, in his defence on oath, said that on Saturday, December 2nd, he met Houston outside the Station Hotel, with whom he had some drinks, meeting him about 8 p.m., leaving him at 11 p.m. and getting home about 11.30 p.m.; that he stayed indoors on the Sunday till 12 a.m., when a soldier sent round to him, as he was going to Jersey; that he went down the town with him, getting home at 6.30 p.m.; that the next morning he met Houston, who asked him if he would like to earn a couple of shillings; that he went down to his (Houston) shop, where there were some clothes which Houston and he pawned at different places; that he gave some to Bluett to sell to Tiller, and Bluett's account of that was correct; that it was true he sent Biddiscombe in to pawn an overcoat, but it was untrue that Biddiscombe came out and said he was wanted; nor did he say, "I am not going in," and run away; and that he did not know whether Houston got them honestly or dishonestly, and it was not his business to inquire.
BLUETT NOT GUILTY .
BALLER GUILTY on the Second Count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Kingston Quarter Sessions on April 5th, 1904. Four previous convictions were proved against him. And Houston to a conviction of felony at Richmond, Surrey, on November 23rd, 1903. He was stated to be an associate of Baller. Twelve months' hard labour each.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Third Court, February 8th, 1906.
GEORGE MATTHEW EVANS . I am a labourer, living at 36, Clifton Crescent, Peckham—on December 19th last I was in the Fox and Hounds, Peckham, about 8 p.m.—I went away and returned again about 10.30—I remained till closing time, 12.30—I played a game of "coddem"—whilst doing so the prisoner came in about 10.50 or 10.55—he threw out to the company a challenge for him and another one to play the winners of the game—I replied, "You will?"—he said, "Yes, I'll play you for half a quid if you like"—I asked him where he got his money from, knowing he had been out of work for some time—he said, "I get my money the same way as you do: work for it"—he then said, "You have not got all the money; who are you?" and two or three other remarks—I lost my temper, got up and struck him; it was more of a slap than a blow—it was done with the open hand—the landlord came on the scene, told me to sit down, and ordered the prisoner out—as he went out he turned round to me and said, "All right, Matt., I have got this for nothing. It won't end at this; I'll have my own back"—at closing time me and two more friends came out—I then went to the urinal at the side of the house by myself—I saw the prisoner leaning against the corner of the house as I passed him—that was about 4 or 5 yards from the urinal—he was by himself—nothing was said by either of us—I had not got more than two steps past him when I felt a blow, behind my right ear—I did not see the blow struck—I remember nothing after that till I saw a man named Moore strike a match, asking me how I felt—I do not know how long afterwards that was—I was taken to a doctor and afterwards sent to the infirmary—I am still an in-patient—I have known the prisoner a good many years.
Cross-examined. I am very seldom in the Fox and Hounds—the evening in question was the sharing-out night of our slate club—on those occasions we sometimes have a little more drink than usual, but I did not do so that night—I was perfectly sober—I was there altogether about two hours—I went there at 8, but I did not stay there all the time till closing time—I did not go to other public-houses—I said at the Police Court that I lost my temper and struck the prisoner twice—it was not with my clenched hand—I knocked him down, but it was more of a push than a knock—he went down—I do not suggest he did that on purpose—I do not know that people in the neighbourhood are "down" on the prisoner—I know of a friend who assaulted him a fortnight before, but I do not know what about—it is common enough for people in a public-house to say, "I would like to take a hand "; that is in whatever game is going on.
Re-examined. The landlord came down just after I struck the blow—he just saw the finish of the scuffle.
FREDERICK WILLIAM CULLUM . I am the landlord of the Fox and Hounds, Peckham—December 19th was the "share-out" of our slate club—I remember the prosecutor being there—I cannot say what time he came in; it was about 8 o'clock, I believe—I saw the prisoner there during the evening—I cannot be certain of the time—he was there at 11.30—there seemed to be a row going on in the bar—the prosecutor was in a threatening attitude—I took him by the coat and told him to come into the room and told the prisoner to go home—he said, "All right, but don't forget you can't take these for nothing "; at the same time, pointing to an old scar on his chin, and turning up his lip, he showed a small mark inside the upper lip—it appeared to be a fresh mark—he turned round to walk out, but before he went he shouted out to Evans, who was in the tap room, "Don't forget, Matt, it won't end like this"—he then went out—about 12.10 he came back and said to me, "Is Matt still there, Fred?"—I said, "Yes, he is still sitting in the room; do you want him?"—he said, "No, it doesn't matter; it's all right"—he seemed to be quiet and cool—he drank up a glass of ale and went out again—he was about five minutes in the bar that time—I shut the house at 12.27—the prosecutor, who seemed to be perfectly sober, and the others all went out—the next thing I knew was someone knocking on the window and asking for water—I went out and found they were just bringing the prosecutor round; he was smothered in blood—I got a cloth and handed it to somebody, who bathed his head—this was in the yard where the urinal is—I was handed this chopper and took it inside—I saw no blow struck—About 3 a.m. on the 20th the prisoner knocked at the bar window—I opened the door, when he said, "Don't you think Matt got what he deserved?"—I said, "I don't know anything about it; I think you are a silly little fool, and you had better get off home at once"—he went away.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner came into the bar the second time I did not say to him, "Hullo, Bill, who has done that to your face?"—I am not mistaken—I noticed an old scar on his face.
Re-examined. The scar was on the chin and had healed up.
ELIZA FITSALL . I live at 78, Bridson Street, Camberwell—this chopper is my property—on December 19th the prisoner came to me at 11.30 and said, "Will you lend me your chopper?"—I said, "Yes, my boy"—he has been in the habit of borrowing it for chopping wood—he was not drunk—I noticed nothing wrong with his face—the Fox and Hounds is About five minutes' walk from my house—the prisoner lives near me.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for some years—I do not know that people in the neighbourhood have had a "down" upon him and been leading him rather a life—he did not say when he borrowed the chopper what he wanted it for—he did not say he wanted to chop wood.
THOMAS MOORE . I am a labourer, living at 9, Bridson Street, Old Kent Road—on December 19th I was at the Fox and Hounds about 9 o'clock—I stayed there till 12.30—the prosecutor was there when I arrived—the prisoner came in about 9—the prosecutor and three more were playing "coddem"—the prisoner said he would take the winners—Evans
said something and the prisoner said, "Yes, I will play you for half a quid"—Evans asked him where he got his half quide from—he replied the same as him: worked for it—Evans told him to take his half quid somewhere else and to shut up—the prisoner said he could not shut him up—then Evans lost his temper and struck the prisoner, I believe twice—the landlord came and pulled Evans back and told the prisoner to get out of the house—the prisoner came back to the room and, pointing to his chin, said, "I got this for nothing and I am not going to take the other for nothing"—he then left—we remained in the house till closing time and then left—Evans asked me to wait a minute while he went round the corner—he went and I heard him speak to another man and then he shouted, "Oh"—I went round and saw him in a helpless condition leaning on the window-ledge with his two hands round his head or his ears, and blood running down—I asked him who had done it—I then turned round and saw the prisoner with something in his hand; I could not see what—he was in a threatening attitude—he ran at Evans, and I caught him by the throat, and another man came and knocked him down—I suggested to Evans to go to a doctor—I do not know what became of the prisoner—Evans asked me to find his cap, which I did, and also the chopper, which was lying there—I gave the chopper to the publican.
Cross-examined. I should say Evans was in the public-house about three and a half hours—he did not have a good deal to drink—I am friendly with both the prosecutor and the prisoner—I never heard of people being "down" upon the prisoner—I heard that he had had a row with a man and got a cut over it—the prisoner began the trouble in question by waning to join in the game—Evans was the first to use violence.
Re-examined. I cannot say if Evans went out of the public-house and came back again.
WILLIAM DENNISON WIGGINS . I am assistant superintendent at the Greenwich Union Infirmary—shortly after 3 a.m. on December 20th I admitted the prosecutor to the infirmary—he was in a semi-conscious condition—he had four incised wounds on the scalp, one serious one being behind the right ear—the bone of the scull had been pulverised and pushed right in—this chopper might have inflicted the wounds—it was surprising that the injury behind the ear did not do more than render him unconscious.
Cross-examined. Evans smelt of drink—"smell" is a question of degree—a small quantity of drink will smell the same as a large quantity, especially of four ale—I should say he had been drinking beer.
WILLIAM SERGEANT (Detective-Sergeant R.) I arrested the prisoner at 3, Ardmere Road, Hither Green., on December 28th—I told him I was a police officer and should take him into custody for causing grievous bodily harm to Matthew Evans on December 20th at Ormside Street, Old Kent Road—he said, "It was all over a game of 'coddem'; he asked me where I got my money from; I said something to him and he hit me. When I was outside I was set on by a mob of them and went home with a black eye. I went and borrowed the chopper for my wife and before taking it home I went back to the Fox and Hounds. Evans
and a lot of them again set on me and I let go with the chopper and hit him with it"—he was taken to the station, where he was charged.
Cross-examined. I could not find the prisoner for nearly a week—I asked Mrs. Fitsall, but she did not know where he was—I asked his wife, and she also did not know—I went to his house in Bridson Street nearly every night.
Re-examined. I went to his house on the day of the occurrence, at 2.45 a.m., and he was not there.
The prisoner, in his defence on oath, stated that his wife asked him to borrow the chopper, which he did; that on his way home he called at the public-house to have another drink; that he afterwards went to the urinal in the yard, when he was set upon by the prosecutor and a mob, who knocked him down and kicked him; and that he used the chopper which he had in his pocket, in self-defence.
Evidence for the Defence.
BRIDGET NEWSON . I am the prisoner's wife—he came home on December 19th, about 11—I was in the wash-house—I called out to him to go over to Mrs. Fitsall's and borrow the chopper, as I wanted some wood broken up—he went—I never saw him any more that night.
Cross-examined by MR. DAVIES. I cannot say exactly the time he came in—I was washing clothes—he was in the kitchen—he did not come back with the chopper—he came in the morning after the "tecs" had been, but did not stop a second—I did not speak to him—he walked out again—he had a big black eye.
Re-examined. He has been in custody since.
JOHN TRACKQUAIR . I am a labourer, living at 70, Ormside Street—I was in the Fox and Hounds on December 19th, about 10.45—the prisoner came in and asked the two winners to play "coddem"—Evans was sitting down, playing—he turned round and said, "Where do you get your money from to play with?"—the prisoner said, "What has that got to do with you?"—they got arguing and Evans got up and knocked the prisoner down with a second blow—the prisoner got up and walked out without saying anything—I stayed in the bar till closing time—it was the club sharing out night—we usually all have a little extra drink on those occasions.
Cross-examined. Evans remained in the public-house till closing time. By MR. COHEN. I know a man struck the prisoner some days before this occurrence.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on October 27th, 1894. The police stated that he had been convicted for assaulting his wife and for begging and assault, and that he was an associate of bad characters. Four years' penal servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MARCH 5TH, 1906.
Page 646.For " hard labour "read " Imprisonment " and"Tennant—Two months' imprisonment."