The Proceedings of the Old Bailey

 

330.   MARY CARR (25) , Unlawfully taking   Michael McGee from his mother, by force on April 24th, 1895, with intent to deprive her of him. Other Counts, for unlawfully detaining the child.

MR. HUTTON Prosecuted., and MR. LAWLESS Defended.

  BRIDGET MCGEE . I am the wife of Michael McGee, but have not lived with him for five years—he takes care of two of my children, and I of one—I took the boy about to racecourses, where I sell cards—last year I was at the City and Suburban with the boy, and went into a booth, where I saw the prisoner with two men—the prisoner asked me whether I would part with my child; I said, "No, not for the Queen's crown"—one of the men gave me some drink and took the boy on his knee—he was in the prisoner's company, and I missed him and the child, and the prisoner—she said that he had children of his own, and would bring him back—one of the men said he would fetch my child, but he never came back—I went looking in the booths for the child, and then went to the station—I am quite sure the prisoner is the woman.

Cross-examined. I was taken to the station to identify the child, and as the prisoner came through the passage I said, "That is the woman that took my child"—she was the only woman there, and the other people there were prisoners—a man named Thin was at the Police-court; he was at the races, and in here—he is not the man who took the child out of the booth—he had curls on his forehead, on the racecourse; his hair has been cut now—I remained in the booth after the child was gone—I slept at Barnes occasionally—the child was never out of my company—I sometimes get into the hands of the police, but I always have the child with me—it was Phil who took the child out; the prisoner remained with me.

Re-examined. The child went to prison with me once; that was for selling flowers.

By the COURT. I heard the man talk to the prisoner in the booth—he did not speak to her by any name, but I remember her calling him Phil—I do not remember anyone calling her Polly—when I went to the station I described her as dressed in a plum-coloured dress and a white hat—I had some drink.

  PHILIP JACOBS . I am a general dealer, of 40, Commercial Road—I know Phil Oker—on April 24th I was at the City and Suburban, and the child went up to the prisoner in a booth—she asked me to take the child to her place; that is 118, Stamford Street—I thought he was a friend of hers, because he went to her—I took him to her house, and saw her and the child there next morning—she wore a blue dress.

Cross-examined. I never saw the mother at all that day; I swear that—if she says that the prisoner and I were drinking with her, that is untrue, and it is untrue that she spoke to me about the child, and that I said that the man had children of his own—I will swear that I was not drinking with the mother; if she swears so, that is untrue—I took the child to the prisoner's house that very evening—a servant named King opened the door; she was confronted with me at the Police-court—I did not say to her, "Is Polly in?"—I told her that Polly had asked me to leave the child there—she did not say, "Does she know you have brought him?" nor did I answer, "No; it will be all right"—I was not at the prisoner's house at any time during last February. (Mrs. Harman was here called in.) I do not know that woman—I was

not there on a Wednesday in the middle of February, at three o'clock—I did not take a ring there and ask her to buy it; that was Saturday, the first day of this month—I have not seen Mrs. Harman at the prisoner's house; I did not see her there on the day I took the ring there—it was a sapphire ring; the prisoner refused to buy it, but said that if she had some money she would buy it—she did not refuse to buy it and say, "I have heard rumours that this boy you have brought here has been stolen," nor did I say, "Do you think I should do such a thing as that, and get Polly into trouble?"—I did not tell the prisoner that I dared not take the child to my house on account of my mother, and ask her to look after him—I did not say on the occasion of the ring, "I will take the child away with me now if you have any doubt about it"; nor did the prisoner say, "I shan't let the poor little chap go; God knows what will become of him"—there is not a word of truth in any of that—I am a general dealer; I buy things, children included—I do not mean that—I live at my mother's, 3, Samuel Road, Bishopsgate Street—I lodge now somewhere in the Commercial Road—I have never been in the dock of a Criminal Court, only once for drunkenness—I was not charged with attempting to steal, nor aid I do a month for that; it was for frequenting.

Re-examined. That was a long time ago; the prisoner did not know it—I went into several booths with her—nothing was asked me at the Police-court about Mrs. Harman.

MR. HUTTON here stated that he would aband in the Counts for stealing the child, and proceed only upon the two Counts for harboring and

detaining him.

  FREDERICK GRAY (Detective Sergeant L). From information I received, I went on February 25th, about 1.30, with Sergeant Dalla, to 118, Stamford Street, and saw the prisoner—I said, "Polly, I want to speak to you"; we went down in the kitchen, where I saw the little boy—I said, "Has this child got anything the matter with it?"—she said, "I believe so"—I said, "Who has been attending to it?" I shall take you in custody for stealing the child on Epsom Downs on April 24th last—she said, "It was not me who stole it; I know who sent you here; Mrs. Hart"—I said, "No, it was not"—she said, "She can prove I never stole the boy; I came home with her"—I took this note at the time in her presence—I said, "How do you account for the possession of this child?"—she said, "Phil Oker brought it here"—I said, "Where does he live?"—she said, "I don't know, but I can find him in an hour or two"—I said, "You have been telling people that it ss yours"—she said, "Yes, I took a liking to it"—I said, "Where are the clothes which it had when you took it?"—she said, "I burnt them; they were lousy"—I said, "Do you know where Mrs. Hart lives?"—she said, "Yes"—I have made inquiries of her—I know her by sight—I have not seen her here to-day; she lives next door but one to the prisoner.

  WILLIAM BBOGDKN (Detective Sergeant L). I went with Gray to the prisoner's house, and heard the conversation—on the way to the station, she said, "A man named Phil Oker brought the boy to me on the night of the City and Suburban, and said he did not like to take it home because of his mother, and asked me to let him stop for a day or two"—I said, "I know you were at the City and Suburban, because I saw you go."

Cross-examined. She said, "I know Phil Oker; he is well known in the Lane."

Witnesses for the Defence.

  SARAH HARMAN . I am the wife of John Harman:, of 88, Laurence Street, Lambeth—on, I think, February 1st, I was in the prisoner's kitchen—Oker came in—it was the day after the benefit at the Washington Music Hall this year—the prisoner opened the door to him—they both came down, and he wanted her to buy a ring, a half-hoop sapphire—I looked at it and said, "If I was you I would not buy it; I do not like the looks of the man; I should not like you to get into any trouble"—she said, "I don't half like buying it, because I have heard some very funny rumours, that of this little Billy being stolen from Epsom"—I said, "Then, go to the station and make a report of the case"—she said, "I would not do anything like that to get you into trouble, Polly" and he said, "Is these the slightest doubt about it? I will take him away now if you like"—I said, "Not if you have got nowhere to take him"—she said, "I will keep him here till you get a place to take him to"—he then offered her some drink, and went away.

Cross-examined. I know the prisoner very well—I frequently go to her house in Stamford Street—it is a respectable house—I have known her ten years—she has some women lodgers, single women as far as I know—I did not like Phil Oker's appearance; he seemed a suspicious character—he was almost in rags, and I did not think he could possess such a valuable ring; I thought it was stolen—I took his word with regard to the little boy—he said that it was his own child, and he had had a row with his mother—the prisoner said, "I have been told that little Billy has been stolen"—I was in Court when Oker was examined and Cross-examined at the Police-court—I said to the prisoner, "If it was me, Polly, I should take the little boy and go to the police"—I did not go there again the next day, or any day during the following week—I went three or four times during February, but did not ask her if she had been to the police.

Re-examined. I have eight children of my own; the prisoner stood god-mother to some of them.

By the COURT. I do not know whether she does any work; she used to sit to Arthur Small as an artist's model.

  MARY CARR (the prisoner). I live at 118, Stamford Street—my marriage name is Crane; I have heard Mrs. McGee's evidence about my being in her company, and speaking to her in a booth on April 24th; it is not true; I never saw her in my life till I saw her at the Police-station—when I returned home on the evening of April 24th, the little boy was in my passage—Jenny King was my servant; I cannot say what she said, because she was laughing so much—Oker came to me next day, and I said, "You had better take this child away from here"—he said, "It is a young woman's who I have been keeping company with, Minnie"—I said, "I can't have him here; he is covered with vermin;" he said, "Will you keep it a little while, because my mother will not have it because she is sheeney"—that is a Jewess—he said, "Polly, will you keep him for a week or two?"—I consented, but not for so long as I have done—I was let out on bail, and I told the policeman where he was to be found.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Harman is an old friend of mine—I asked the

prisoner to take the boy aw ay—I had heard that he was stolen—I had an anonymous letter, but I never go it; it went to Mrs. Ted Pritchett; she told me that four weeks before I was arrested; that was about a fortnight before Gray came to see me—I did not go straight away to Oker, and tell him that I heard the boy was stolen; I did not know his address—the child remained with me nearly ten months—Oker told me he was going to make him a jockey; he led me to believe who his father was; he asked me to let him come and live at my house—I only know the name of his mother as Minnie; she did not say who the father was—I tried to find her address—I knew he had been living with her; she told me that she had nursed him—when the sergeants came I did not tell them that I believed the child was the son of Minnie and Phil Oker, because I was not bound to answer policemen—I told my Counsel and solicitors to put this question to-day—I know Mrs. Hart; she did not go with me, I went alone—I came with her party; she lives next door but one to me—she was still living in the house when I was out on bail—I was dressed at the City and Suburban in an electric blue cretonne dress, and a little band round my neck—I went into some booths because it came on to rain; I was in a booth inside the big ring.

By the COURT. I saw Oker there, but did not know him well enough to speak to, but I was not astonished at his bringing the child to me, because I have brought up little girls—I had the care of the child while he was in my house, but Edith Smith looked after him; she gave me her address, and I went there, but she had moved.

GUILTY of unlawfully taking the child away. Medical evidence was then called to the effect that the child was suffering from a foul disease; and SERGEANT GRAIN stated that the prisoner lived with bad characters, who called themselves the "Forty Thieves" and had been sentenced to Four Months' Hard Labour for stealing a watch and chain .—Three Years' Penal Servitude. The Society for the Suppression of Vice took charge of the child, with the mother's consent.