Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 6.0, 26 July 2014), March 1879 (t18790331).

Old Bailey Proceedings, 31st March 1879.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

WHETHAM, MAYOR. SIXTH SESSION.

A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) 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, March 31st, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

374. JOHN ALVEY (49) and CATHERINE TYLER (29) , Stealing 6lb. of sugar, 6lb. of Fuller's earth, and 9lb. of quicksilver of George Atkinson, the master of Alvey. Second Count for receiving.

MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended Tyler.

WILLIAM POTTS (City Detective). About 6 o'clock on the evening of 1st Feb. I saw Alvey in Aldersgate Street, close to the door of Messrs. Atkinson's warehouse—I knew him to be one of their servants—I saw something projecting from underneath his short canvas jacket—I followed him to the corner of Carthusian Street—I saw Tyler standing on the kerb; he went up and spoke to her, and they both went into the Red Lion public-house—I suspected there was something wrong, I pushed the door partly open; I saw Tyler sit down and open this little bag; Alvey pulled this bottle from underneath his jacket and put it into the bag; I saw the quicksilver—I went few paces from the house to get assistance, I turned round and saw them both come out of the public-house—they parted, one came towards Aldersgate Street and the other towards Charterhouse Square—I followed Tyler, stopped her, and asked her what she had in the bag—she said "What belongs to my husband"—I said "I mean that bottle which the man in the public-house put into your bag just now"—she said "He put nothing in the bag"—I said "I saw him put a bottle in," and I put my hand in and pulled out this bottle of quicksilver—I then told her that I should take her into. custody—I took her to the prosecutor's warehouse, took Alvey also into custody and took them both to the station—she said that her husband had given ber this to take to be burnt—I told Alvey I should charge him with stealing this bottle of quicksilver and giving it to the female in the public-house—he said he had not given anything to her, she had merely come to deliver a message to him from her husband—Mr. Best, one of the prosecutor's clerks, afterwards came to the Guildhall Police-court and spoke to Alvey about the state of his machines; he wanted to know how they stood, because of putting the different ingredients into the mills—the prisoner said No. 3 was 44, and he told him of the other machines, and that they Would

want certain ingredients in at certain times—I went with Mr. Best to the prosecutor's premises and inspected the machine where the prisoner had been at work, and behind a box underneath the mill I found a jar containing 5lb. of quicksilver, and in the corner I found two bottles covered over with some old cocoanut matting containing this sugar and powdered Fuller's earth—I afterwards went to the house where Tyler was lodging and searched two rooms, one downstairs and one up; I found there a large quantity of tube* used for barometers.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. This matter was heard before the Alderman at Guildhall and was dismissed, and then this indictment was preferred—when I asked Tyler what she had in the bag she said "Something belonging to my husband"—she subsequently said her husband hid sent her with the quicksilver to be burnt—I found that she had some one who passed as her husband.

FREDERICK WILLIAM BODDY . I am warehouseman to the prosecutor—it was part of my duty to weigh out to Alvey at stated periods the quick-silver that he required for his machines, and as a rule I weighed it out in his presence and handed it to him and entered it in a book—I have been there 17 years, but not always in that capacity.

Cross-examined by Alvey. Two other workmen besides you used quicksilver—you were laid up for some time and had an allowance from a club.

CHARLES JAMES FOX . I am manager to the prosecutor—Alvey has been in the employ about 30 years—it was his duty to look after the machines for making ointment and pills, one of the chief ingredients being quicksilver—since this matter has been brought to my notice I have made an inspection of the books in which the quicksilver delivered to him appears—I have also made an inspection of the quantity of ointment that was turned out by him from the machines, and found a deficiency—about February, 1878, after taking stock, I had reason to tell Alvey that his stock was deficient, that he was continually having silver out, and I was dissatisfied with the result—he said he had worked up all the raw material and we had had the result, and as he had been in the employ such a number of years I was reluctant to be suspicious or to be harsh with him, and I passed it over at the time—about the early part of February this year I saw the female prisoner meet Alvey in Barbican; she opened a bag and he placed something in it—I did not we what it was—the mercury produced is similar to what was given out to Alvey—we use a bottle like this, this other is a spirit bottle—others besides the prisoner used mercury, each workman has it weighed out to him in his J presence, and they have to account for it—the manufactured article and the mercury account is balanced every month—it is in the manufactured article that we are deficient.

Cross-examined by Alvey. You have been absent from business—your brother has occasionally worked the machines when you have been absent Thomas Best. I am one of the managing chemists at the prosecutor's—I saw Alvey at the Guildhall Police-court and asked him how the machines stood—he said as to Ko. 3 that he had put 40lb. of quicksilver into that machine and 4lb. of other ingredients—I went back with Potts and looked at the machine and found there was only 30lb. of quicksilver—also found the sugar and Fuller's earth underneath in a box—it had no business there.

JAMES RUDD . I am manager to Mr. Wotherepoon, barometer manufacturer, Fox Court, Holborn—I have known Tyler and her family about 10 years—I have had dealings with her about 18 months, down to October last—some of them have been in respect of quicksilver—I have purchased some from her sometimes for cash, but it was mostly in exchange for goods—she generally brought it in a flat bottle—there was sometimes two or three months between her coming, sometimes less, it was more frequent latterly; altogether there were about 10 or 12 dealings—I ceased to purchase in October; I refused for reasons of my own—I may have bought 100lb. weight of ber.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I knew Mr. Tyler—I have had dealings with him as regards our own goods; we sell material to the trade; he was a barometer and thermometer maker.

JAMES EMMERTON ANDERTON . I am a barometer maker, of Hatton Garden—I have had dealings in quicksilver with the female prisoner; the last was about the latter part of January this year—I always gave her a bill when she purchased tubes of me; I did not have one from her for the quicksilver—she cannot write; I did not make one out for her—I made no entries of this in my books—I think the List quantity she brought was about 10lb.—it was usually brought in a flat bottle resembling this—I knew who she was.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I knew that her husband was in the trade.

LUIGI PERRONI I am a barometer maker—I know the female prisoner—I have only had one transaction with her—I then bought 18lb. of quicksilver of her; she brought it in a bottle of this sort, like a gin-bottle—I wanted a receipt, and wanted to know how she got the mercury—she said she sold some thermometers to au optician's shop, and they gave her the mercury in exchange—I asked how much she wanted for it—she said 2s. 3d. a pound—I said I would give her is 8d. a pound, as it was second-hand, and I had to burn it to clean it because it was dirty—throe or four days after she came again, and wanted to know if I would buy mercury again—I said "It don't look to me right; how much have you there?"—she said "About the same quantity"—I said "How did you get this? I want to know particularly before I buy any more"—she said "We have got a sailor down in the dock, and in coming over some of the iron bottles got broke, and in sweeping the ship they got this-mercury for themselves"—I said "That won't do for me; take your mercury, and never come in my place any more n—that was a year and nine months ago, and I have not seen her since.

CHARLES PIZZALA . I am a barometer maker in Hatton Garden—I have had dealings with the female prisoner for quicksilver for the last four years—the last transaction was about January this year—the first transaction, was with her deceased husbaud for 6lb.; then I bought' 6lb. again, then 9lb., then 5lb.; about 25lb. in all—I let them have goods for the value of the quicksilver.

ALEXANDER LURASKI . I am a barometer maker and glass tube blower, of Cross Street, Hatton Garden—I have purchased quicksilver from the f m le prisoner—the last transaction was during her first husband's lifetime—I have had none with her since.

GUILTY . ALVEY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . TYLER— Eighteen, Months' Imprisonment.

375. SKIRVING THOMPSON (36) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Catherine Gladstone an order for 5 guineas and other sums from other persons.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

376. JOHN EASON (21) to feloniously uttering a forged order for 370l., knowing it to be forged, having been before convicted.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

377. SAMUEL SAVAGE (36) to unlawfully detaining certain letters which he had to deliver whilst in the service of the Post Office.— One Month's Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

378. JOHN JOSEPH BACON (39) to a libel— To enter into his own recognisances to appear to receive judgment if called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

379. JAMES BURDEN (28) , Feloniously forging and uttering a warrant for payment of 20l., with intent to defraud.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

The Prisoner declined to plead, questioning the jurisdiction of the Court, the Recorder ordered a plea of

NOT GUILTY to be entered.

JOHN RUSKIN . I reside at Brightwell, Lancashire—I should not hare recognised the prisoner—I knew him well about three years ago—I gave him work to do—I bank at the Chancery Lane branch of the Union Bank—this cheque (produced) is not in my handwriting—I gave nobody authority to draw it—this other cheque is not in my handwriting—in consequence of a notification of matters brought to my knowledge I made a communication to the bank about paying my cheques—these two letters are in my handwriting—I do not think I had written to the prisoner in 1879—I did in 1878.

WILLIAM WALKER I am a cashier at the Union Bank, Chancery Lane branch—the prisoner came in on the 6th February, about 3.45—he presented this cheque for 20l. written on plain paper, purporting to be drawn by Mr. Ruskin—Mr. Ruskin had an account with us, and had been a customer many years—on 1st November this cheque for 35l. 10s. was presented by the prisoner—that was paid—that also purported to be a cheque by Mr. Ruskin dated the 30th October—we had a communication from Mr. Ruskin—I took the prisoner on the 6th February, when he presented the second cheque, to be the same man—I asked him if he wanted the money for this 20l. cheque—he said he did, and handed to me Mr. Ruskin's own letter—this is the envelope—he declined to answer any further questions—I took him to the manager's room, and asked him questions about having the 35l. 10s. cheque on the 1st of November—he said "I received the money"'—I sent for a constable, and he was given in custody—he would give us no further information.

JOHN NOLLETH (Policeman E 186). I was called to the Union Bank, Chancery Lane, to take the prisoner into custody—I told him the charge—he said "Very well"—I searched him at the station—I found on him a pair of gloves, a purse, and this letter crumpled up—on the back of it is written, "Mr. Walker, of the Union Bank, Chancery Lane, will wet the fly-leaf as before."

WILLIAM WALKER (Re-examined). That is not addressed to us, but the prisoner would know it was intended for us—with the surrounding circumstances the Bank would have allowed me to pay it—our customer would pot have repudiated it.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

380. FRANK THOMPSON (23) , Feloniously forging and uttering a warrant for 5l. 15s. 6d., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. METCALFE, Q.C., and BAGGALLAY Prosecuted; and MR. BUTLEE Defended.

FREDERICK MARTIN . I assist my father at the High Cross, Tottenham, Post Office, as post-office receiver; on Tuesday the 18th February, the prisoner came there for a post-office order for sixpence, and handed to me this requisition form to fill up. (Read: "Hyde Road, Hoxton," payable to H. Watson, and signed "J. Wilkinson")—I then issued to him form No. 3683, in accordance with the requisition, and made out the duplicate in the usual way—I sent the advice to the Hyde Road, Hoxton, office—it is made payable there; this form 3683 is the same—it now reads payable to "Southgate Road," instead of "High Street, Hoxton," and the amount 5l. 15s. 6d. instead of "6d."—my signature remains the same, and is the only part of my writing remaining—we sent no advice to Southgate Road.

Cross-examined. My signature remains intact—the rest of the order is not like my handwriting.

JANE EVANS . I am barmaid at the Rotherfield Arms, Rotherfield Street, Islington—I know the prisoner as a customer—on Tuesday, February 18th, at about 7 o'clock, he came and asked if Mrs. Goodman was at home—I said "Yes"—he said, "Would she be kind enough to cash an order for me, as it is too late for the post-office"—that is the order (produced)—it way then for 5l. 15s. 6d.—I took it to my mistress, she gave me the money, and I gave it to the prisoner—it was signed "H. Thompson," and was on the Southgate Road office as now—the prisoner left directly—I heard nothing more about it till the following Friday—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.

Cross-examined. I had never seen his writing before—I am not in the habit of cashing orders, but knowing the prisoner as a customer I did so—I have never heard anything against him.

EMILY WOODMAN . I am a widow and am the landlady of the Rotherfield Arms, Rotherfield Street, Islington—I know the prisoner—on Tuesday, February 18th, this post-office order was brought to me by the last witness—in consequence of what she said I gave her the cash for it, 5l. 15s. 6d.—on the following Friday I received a letter from the prisoner—it was not till then I had any suspicion of anything wrong—Mr. Finney referred to in that letter is a police inspector and a neighbour of mine.

(Letter read; "Friday, 21st February. Mrs. Woodman,—Memorandum,—I have just heard that there is something wrong with that post-office order I gave you to change on Tuesday last. Do please stop it at once. I will call to-night or 10 o'clock on Sunday evening. Unless you have done so, please not to mention it to Mr. Finney, and oblige yours truly, F. Thompson.") I did not know the handwriting.

Cross-examined. The barmaid told me who brought it—I did not cash it, because it was taken in a respectable name.

JAMES FINNEY (Inspector M). I know the prisoner—that letter is the prisoner's writing—the letter refers to me.

EDWARD HEARN (Police Sergeant M). On the 23rd of February I took the prisoner into custody from 34, Baring Street, Islington—I told him why I was taking him—he replied, "I did not do it by myself"—I took him to the Islington Poliee-station—I searched him and found in a letter these

three post-office orders, one 5l. 9s. 9d., the other two for 6d. and 1s. 9d., I also found upon him 10s. in gold, 9s. 9d. silver, and 5d. bronze.

Cross-examined. I made this memorandum at the time, "He said I did not do it by myself"—I made a report at the police-station.

JEREMIAH——(Policeman M). I was present when the prisoner was taken and heard him say, "I did not do it by myself"—I searched his room and found this pen and these bottles labelled, "International Ink Eraser, and Lightning Stain Ink Extractor. Notice.—This article is introduced for the purpose of superseding the knife or scraper. It does not injure the paper," &c., with full directions for use—I tried it at the police-court and it speedily removed the ink.

Cross-examined. Two of the bottles were on the mantelpiece—I did not see any of these bills (produced).

JOHN HILL . I am assistant at the Highgate Post-office—I issued this post-office order 7557 to F. Thompson—I recognise the prisoner as the man—the amount for which it was issued was 9d.—the amount it now bean is 5l. 9s. 9d.—the 9d., the office, and my name are my writing, the rest not—I produce the requisition form I made out at the time.

Cross-examined. The altered writing is written to imitate mine, but is not like it.

EDWARD HEARN (Re-examined). There were some papers there like these (printed circulars produced)—what I have here I got from a cupboard in his room—there are seven here.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

NEW COURT—Monday, March 31st, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

381. ELIZABETH SMITH (30) PLEADED GUILTY ** to feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, after a previous conviction of a like offence; also to uttering a medal representing a shilling, with intent to defraud.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

382. THOMAS HOLLAND (25) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. CRADFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.

ARTHUR THOMAS FARMER . I manage my brother's shop—on 15th March, about 6.30 p.m., I served the prisoner with half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a florin—I gave him 1s. 10 1/2 d. change, and he left—I had kept the florin in my hand, and two or three minutes after he left I examined it and found it was bad—I went out, but could not see him—on 20th March, about 6.30, he came again and tendered another florin—I recognised him, but did not say so—I said, "This is bad, I shall give you in custody"—he said, "It is not bad"—I saw 1 1/2 d. in his other hand—I called ray sister down, and then left for a constable, but could not find one—I went back to the shop, and he was just coming out—I followed him, and gave him in charge with the bad coin.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not offer to run away, but you did not stop in the shop.

ALICE FARMER . I was not in the shop on the first occasion—on the second occasion my brother called me downstairs and said, "I will fetch a constable"—the prisoner, who was in the shop, offered me a half-crown to

give him the coin back—I said, "I shall do nothing of the kind, I will double it up"—my brother had it in his hand—while my brother was away the prisoner said, 6 "Don't charge me, for I have a wife and two little children"—my brother was away two or three minutes—the prisoner moved towards the door, met my brother at the door, and went with him—they returned with a constable, with whom the prisoner struggled in the shop.

Cross-examined. I did not say, "If you pay for the bad half-crown you passed on Saturday, I will not lock you up," nor did you say, "You will have to lock me up."

JAMBS SMITH (Policeman K 113). On March 20th, about 6.30 p.m, I was on duty in Salmon Lane, Limehouse, and saw the prisoner and Farmer coming along—Farmer said, "What shall I do with this man; he gave me a bad two-shilling piece one Saturday night, and he has brought another now 1"—I said, "Give him in charge"—the prisoner said, "I did not know it was. bad"—I took him to the shop where Mr. Farmer gave me these two florins (produced)—the prisoner said, "Don't give me in charge"—he kicked and struggled with me very much, and wanted to walk by himself—I had hold of his collar—he said that he did not know anything of the florin passed on Saturday—I searched him at the station, and found ft half-crown, a penny, a halfpenny, and a farthing, good money.

By the COURT. I held him by his coat collar going to the station—I took hold of Lis necktie afterwards, because he nearly got away, but not till then—I have been three months in the force.

Cross-examined. I did not say that I would choke you.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these two coins are bad, and from the same mould.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate, "I did not pass the bad money on the previous Saturday, and the prosecutor's sister wanted me to pay for it."

Prisoner's Defence. I went to the shop and put down the counterfeit coin, which I thought was a good one. The prosecutor took it to his sister, and I dare say they were there two or three minutes, and I was waiting for the change. She came in and said, "Do you know what you have given?" I said, "A two-shilling bit." She said, "Yes, it is a bad one. I believe you are the man who left one here on Saturday; if you don't pay for that one, I will lock you up." I said, "It is not likely, I know nothing about it; I had to work for four hours for that 2s." They went into the parlour again and were there two or three more minutes. If I was guilty I should not have stopped in the shop like thai I have never been convicted in my life.

NOT GUILTY .

383. EMILY SMITH (39) , Unlawfully uttering a medal resembling a" sovereign, with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.

ALBERT ROBINS . I am assistant to John Ibbetson, a grocer, of 11, Regent Place, Westminster—on 24th February, at 1.30, the prisoner came in and said, "Will you give me change for a sovereign?" and tendered this Hanoverian coin (produced)—I took back the change and said, "This is not a good coin"—she said, "I got it from Captain Parkinson"—I made this large mark on it with a knife and gave it to my master.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said that you had been Irving at Captain Parkinson's, and that he paid it to you for your wages.

JOHN IBBETSON . I keep a grocer's shop and a post-office—Robins is my assistant—he gave me this coin when the prisoner came in, and I asked her where she got it—she said, "From Captain Parkinson, Onslow Gardens"—I said, "What for?"—she said, "For my wages," and that she had come from there; but after I gave her in charge she begged me not to do so, and said she was a widow with three children, and had just come up from Southampton, and had left her boxes at Victoria Station—I do not think the coin was bent so much as it is now—Roberts made this mark on it.

Cross-examined. After you were in charge you said that Captain Parkinson paid you no wages.

CHARLES ROWSELL . I am a draper—the prisoner came into the shop and asked me to show her some linen—I did so, and she asked for five yards, and tendered me a spurious coin, very similar to this—I thought it was slightly bent, and knew it was bad by the sight of it the moment I got it into my hand—I said, "This is not good enough for me"—she said, "Is it bad?"—I said, "Yes"—she said that Captain Parkinson, of Onslow Gardens, gave it to her—I said that she had better take it back and get 19s. 11 3/4 d. for it, as it was only worth a farthing—I made no mark on it. Albert James. I am a draper, of 118, Horseferry Road, about two minutes' walk from Mr. Rowsell's—on 24th February, about 12.30, the prisoner came in for somo Berlin wool and put down a coin similar to this—there were no marks on it, and I did not see that it was bent—I said, "What is this?"—she said, "A sovereign"—I said, "It is not"—she said that it was given to her by a captain; she did not say for what—I cannot swear to the name—I then cut a mark on it with a knife—there are three other marks on it, which were not there then—she said that she had no other money, and left with the coin.

MANY ANN BUTTON . I keep a coffee-shop at St. Peter's Terrace, two or three minutes' walk from Horseferry Road—on February 24th, a few minutes after 1 o'clock, the prisoner came in for a cup of coffee, and as I went to get it she said, "Have you change for a sovereign?"—when I brought the coffee she put this coin down—I did not notice any mark on it—there was no cut on it, but my husband bent it very much in the tester—I returned it to her, and she left.

WILLIAM SANDERCOCK (Policeman B R 9). On 2nd February I was called to Mr. Ibbetson's, and he gave the prisoner into my charge for uttering this counterfeit sovereign—she said "I have worked hard for it"—she afterwards said that Captain Parkinson lived at 1, Onslow Gardens, but she, did not say that he gave it to her—this cut was on it, and it was slightly bent—I asked her address, and found that it was correct—she had lived three days at Captain Parkinson's, who had engaged her from Brighton, but she got drunk on the Sunday—she was sober—nothing was found on her.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a Hanover medal or whist-marker—it has on it "To Hanover, 1837"—it is smaller than a sovereign, and it is knerled on the edge—they were struck at the time of the Queen's accession, and were sold in the street.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am truly sorry. I cannot believe it is bad. I had been at work at Captain Parkinson's. I had been saving to get back to my children. Whether my money has been changed out of my box I cannot say. I never saw a bad one before."

The Prisoner produced a written defence, stating that she got the coin from

a lady who she worked for at Brighion,. and did not know that it was bad, and that she gave Mrs. Parkinson 16s. 1d. change.

GUILTY .— Three Months' Imprisonment.

384. CHARLES EDWARDS (36) and GEORGE CLIFTON (22) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession, with intent to utter it.

MESSRS. CRAUFUBD and LLOYD Prosecuted.

CHARLES BRYNE (City Policeman 359). On 4th March, about 3.30 p.m., I was in plain clothes, and saw Edwards standing at the corner of Coleman Street, City—I had previously seen him with a man who I had in custody for passing bad coin, that induced me to watch him—he appeared to be looking for somebody—he walked backwards and forwards a quarter of an hour, saw me watching him, put two fingers in his mouth and gave a little whistle, and Clifton came up from Fore Street, and they went together to a coffee-house—Argent joined me; we went into the coffee-shop, and said to Edwards "Have you got any counterfeit coin in you possession?"—he said "No, I have not"—I said "I believe you have, and I shall search you"—I put my hand into his trousers pocket, and got a handful of good money, nine shillings, eight sixpences, and 1s. 5 1/2 d. in bronze—I then put my hand in his coat-pocket behind, and took out this handkerchief, which contained something hard wrapped in paper which I did not see, 1 only felt it—I handed it to Argent, and Edwards snatched it from my hand, threw it into the next compartment, and nodded to a young man who was sitting there—Edwards picked it up, and I told him to open his hand, and let me see what there was in it—he said "You have put something in my hand; I will swear you have"—I asked him again, and then caught hold of his legs, and threw him on the floor—he threw the paper under a seat, I picked it up, it contained two florins—one or two other constables came and took him in custody—he was very violent, and tried to shove his elbows about, and kicked out on the floor, but he went quietly outside—the young man William Roberts handed me a parcel containing ten bad shillings—I did not see him pick it up—when the charge was read over at the station Edwards said that he did not know Clifton, and Clifton that he did not know Edwards—I found on Clifton in the coffee-house 2s. 9d. in good money—he was sitting on a seat when I went in, and I told him not to move as I wanted him as well—when they said that they did not know one another, I said "I know different to that; I saw you together last Saturday week"—I had seen them in White Cross Street with a man who was taken for uttering, and discharged, at Guildhall Police-court—each bad shilling was wrapped up separately in paper—I have five florins here, one of which I received from Bright—I have not the slightest doubt about Clifton. being with the other two on the previous occasion.

WILLIAM ROBERTS . I am a clerk at 67s., Basinghall Street—I was in this coffee-house on the afternoon of March 4th, and saw the prisoners come in—I have heard Bryne's evidence, it is correct—I fetched one constable, and another came—I picked up this small packet at Edwards's feet; Clifton was about a yard off—it was nearer to Edwards—I did not notice how it came there—I handed it to the constable.

CHARLES ARGENT (City Policeman 147). I went with Bryne to the coffee shop, and saw him search Edwards, and take a handkerchief from his inside coat-pocket, which he handed to me, and Edwards snatched it out of my

hand—I felt something very hard in it—Edwards was very violent in the coffee-house, but he went quietly.

Cross-examined by Edwards. The handkerchief was given back to you in the cell under Guildhall; you had asked for it; you said "Give me the handkerchief."

ELIZABETH SMITH . I am cook at a coffee-shop, 40, Little Moorfields—I cook in the shop—on 4th March the prisoners came in together, and Edwards asked me to cook a steak, which he handed to me; Clifton then handed me a steak, and asked me to cook it for him—they sat down together as if they were companions—the police came in directly, and I saw them all struggling together, except Clifton—I saw the detective take the handkerchief out of Edwards's pocket—I picked up a florin between where the two had been sitting, and handed it to Bright.

WILLIAM BRIGHT (Policeman G 146). I was called, and saw the prisoners taken to the station—I received this bad florin from Argent, and gave it to O'Byrne.

JOHN DAVIS (City Detective). I have known the prisoners as companions for the last two months: I have followed them and watched them—I recognised them in the cell at Guildhall Police-court.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These three florins are bad and from different moulds—these 10 shillings are bad; four are of 1856, from the same mould, and five of 1864, four of which are from one mould.

Edwards's Defence. I never saw the bad money till I was in the coffee-house. As for this young man, I never set eyes on him till he came into the coffee-house.

Clifton's Defence. I was going home to get my dinner and saw this prisoner. I asked him where there was a coffee-house. He showed me and I walked on, and the constable came in and charged me, and found half-a-crown and two sixpences and threepence on me. I had 5s. when I left home in the morning. I never saw this man in my life.

EDWARDS— GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

CLIFTON— NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 1st, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

385. JOHN WOOD MILLER (46) and WILLIAM THOMAS WIGHT RICHARDSON (44) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully conspiring to defraud the London and Westminster Bank . MILLER— Two Months Imprisonment . RICHARDSON— Eight Months' Imprisonment.

386. HENRY PEGG (16) , Stealing, whilst employed under the Post-office, a post letter containing two half-sovereigns, two sixpences, and 53 postage stamps, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.

MESSRS. METCALFE, Q.C., and BAGGALLAY Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.

ROBERT BRADFORD . I am attached to the Missing Letter Branch of the General Post-office—on 18th March, in consequence of instructions, I went to the Eastern District office and made up a test letter; I put in it two half-sovereigns, two sixpences, and 53 penny postage stamps, and addressed it to Mrs. S. Bouts, 10, Park Street, Church Street, Stoke Newington, London—I fastened it, and posted it about 1.45 the same day in the Eastern District

office, having previously called the attention of Mr. Maloney, the overseer, to it—I saw the prisoner at the office that day from about 1.30 to about 2.30—I saw him stamp the letters, among which this one had been placed; I had seen Mr. Maloney place it with those letters, and I saw him withdraw it from the others and place it by his side—he took it up with two other packets and walked round the office, endeavouring apparently to force the coins out of the letter; he was pulling the letter about—he took up a basket and covered his left breast with it; it was a shallow basket used for carrying letters in—he placed the letter underneath his tunic under his left arm; he kept his arm very close to his side, then threw down the basket and the other two packets and left the office; he was out about two minutes—on his return he was taken into a private room upstairs, and I said to him, "I am an officer from the Missing Letter Branch; did you stamp the inwards letters this afternoon from 2.15 to 2.30"—he said "Yes"—this was an inwards letter—I said, "Did you see a letter addressed to Mrs. S. Bouts, 10, Park Street, Church Street, Stoke Newington?"—he said "No"—I said, "I posted that letter; it was placed with those you say you stamped, it is now missing; do you know anything about it?"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—shortly after that I told Moore to search him; he put his hand in his pockets, but could not find the letter—from what I had noticed I told the prisoner to take off his trousers—he demurred at first; he then took them off and threw them on the floor—Moore took them up, and the letter fell out of the left leg of the trousers—I said, "This is the letter I have been asking you about; have you any explanation to offer?"—he said, "I have nothing to say"—he afterwards said, "I must acknowledge it now"—I then gave him into custody—this is the letter; it is still unopened.

Cross-examined. There were no letters in the basket he was carrying; it was perfectly empty—his words were not, "I must acknowledge it is there now"—the letter had been picked up from the floor by the officer—I am sure his words were, "I must acknowledge it now."

STEPHEN MALONEY . I am overseer at the Eastern District office—the prisoner was a sorter there—on Tuesday, about 1.45, from instructions I received from Mr. Bradford, I went to the letter-box and took from it this letter—I placed it with the letters which the prisoner had to stamp—I did not see him stamp it—shortly before 3, by Mr. Bradford's direction, I told the prisoner to follow me, and I took him to Mr. Bradford—I was walking before him.

HENRY BARKER . I am an inspector at the Eastern District Post-office—on Tuesday, 18th March, the prisoner was taken into the private room—as he was going along in front of me I saw him place his hand underneath his tunic and apparently put his hand in his left-hand trousers pocket, partially draw it out again, and place it back again, as if he was anxious to conceal something.

MOORE. I am a police-officer attached to the Post-office—I was called to search the prisoner—I found nothing at first—he was then directed to take off his trousers—he did so, and let them fall on the ground—I took them up and shook them, and this letter fell out of the bottom part of the leg of his trousers—I took it up and handed it to Mr. Bradford, and he told the prisoner that was the letter he was speaking to him about—the prisoner said, "I must acknowledge to taking it"

Cross-examiruid. I think the letter was then in Mr. Bradford's hands—

am sure the prisoner used the words, "I must acknowledge to taking it now."

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth .— Five years' Penal Servitude.

387. GEORGE DOUGLAS (41) , Feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for 40l. 10s. 4d .

MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.

SAMUEL MUNNS . I am employed at the Gun Tavern, Brushfield Street, kept by Mr. Fisher—on 24th Jan. the prisoner in my presence wrote this document: "Jan. 24th, 1879. I promise to pay Mr. Samuel Munn on demand 2l. for value received and services rendered. George E. Douglas"—I had this pass book in my possession at the time, he had given it to me two or three days before—he had borrowed money of me and had given me an order before for a smaller sum—the pass-book represents him to be entitled to 40l. 10s. 4d., and 5l. in the National Penny Bank—I went to the bank on the 24th with the pass-book and the order; two days afterwards I received this letter from the prisoner, I believe it is the same handwriting as the entries of 40l. 10s. 1d. and 5l. in the deposit book.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I believe the first amount you borrowed of me was 5s., and you wrote an order for 10s.—you told me you were expecting a sum of money from America—these two entries were in the book when you gave it me—you handed me a telegram to read, I gave it back to you, I believe 50l. was mentioned in the telegram, this is the telegram (produced)—it is from a Mr. Ball, consul—I did not say I should like to borrow the money to go into business with—I kept the book on the mantelpiece in the bar parlour, no one could have access to it but those in the house—you left your pocket-book with me one night because you said you had been robbed at a lodging-house—you spoke about my selling you a watch on the 25th, I valued it at 5l.—I gave you 23s. on the 2l. order—when you gave me the order for 5l., I gave you the other back—I lent you the money because I saw this entry in the book, or I should not have lent it you.

WALTER THOMAS LOCK . I am manager of the National Penny Bank, Shoreditch branch—on 20th January the prisoner deposited 4d. in the bank—I made an entry of it in this pass-book, of "fourpence," and I also put the figure 4 in the pence column and initialled it, I took the prisoner's signature in the signature book—the entry in the pass-book has been altered "40l. 10s." has been added to the 4d. and also "5l."—it is in the same writing as his' signature in the signature book.

Cross-examined. I am sure you are the person who paid in the 4d., I had to ask you a number of questions before I could do the transaction.

Re-examined. He gave an address which the ledger clerk entered.

WALTER ANDREWS (Police Inspector). I made inquiries about a Mr. Ball, the consul, I did not find him at the address given by the prisoner, there is no such place in London.

FREDERICK WHITBY (Policeman H 131). The prisoner was given into my charge by a woman on 5th March, for obtaining a watch from Mr. Fisher in Brushfield Street; I said, "You hear what this woman says n—he said, "Yes"—I said, "What have you to say in answer to the charge?"—he said, "All right, I will tell you all about it by-and-by."

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate, "I have been in the habit

of going to Fisher's public house, and made the acquaintance of Munn. After I had made this small deposit in the bank, he wished to know how much it was, but I would not gratify him; he accepted the order for 5l. if and agreed not to present it till I was with him; he sent his friends after me offering me 20l. to settle it; I refused, and he gave me in charge."

The Prisoner put in a written defence stating that when he gave the prosecutor the book it only contained an entry of 4d. and that whatever alteration had taken place since, had been without his knowledge or consent; that the money which the prosecutor lent him, as well as his earnings, he spent at the home in excessive drinking.

GUILTY — Four Months' Imprisonment.

388. GEORGE GARDNER (20) and FREDERICK GOWER (18) , Stealing 50 pair of boots and a hamper of John South. Second Count receiving the same.

MR. LILLET Prosecuted.

JOHN SOUTH . I am an auctioneer in Bishopsgate Street—on 6th March, about 1 p.m., I received by railway a hamper containing 50 pairs of boots; it was placed in front of the warehouse in the street—I went over into the leather market, and on my return about 5.30 I missed the hamper—I could not identify it, but I could the boots; I had not looked at them, but I know the make.

THOMAS SAGER . I am a medical student and live in Bartholomew Close—on 6th March, about 5 o'clock, I saw the two prisoners together in Chiswell Street; I followed them into Beech Street, Barbican; they there met a man carrying a hamper; they took it off his head and had some conversation; Gower gave him dome money and the man then left them and went towards Finsbury Square—the prisoners each took hold of the hamper and carried it to the top of Red Cross Street, they met a man there with a costermonger's barrow and spoke to him, and then placed the hamper on the barrow and all three went on together, Gower pulling one side of. the barrow assisting the man, and Gardner walking on the footway—I followed them into Charter-house Street, I saw Sergeant Coldery, and gave him information; we followed them and they were taken into custody—I went with them to the station—the hamper was opened there and contained 50 pairs of boots—this is the hamper and these are some of the boots.

Cross-examined by Gower. I did not hear what you said to the man with the hamper—I saw you give him some money; it was silver—I was on the opposite side of the road—you had no chance of escape after I spoke to the policeman.

GEORGE COLDERY (City Police Sergeant 45). I received a communication from Mr. Sager, and he and I and Pack, another constable who was with me, followed the prisoner into Charterhouse Street, where I stopped the barrow and took them into custody—Gower was violent, and was threatening Mr. Seager—we all went to the station; the man with the barrow followed with the hamper—the prisoners were asked what the hamper contained—they said they did not know; that a man had given it them tacarry—they were asked for their addresses; they said they had no fixed residence.

Cross-examined by Gower. You were not violent to me—you threatened to knock Mr. Sager's b——head off—you did not strike him; you used violent language.

JAMES PACK (City Policeman 164). I was with Coldery when Mr. Sager

gave him information—I followed and apprehended Gardner; he was behind a railway van a few yards from the barrow—Gower was threatening Mr. Sager.

JOSEPH WILLIAM NORRIS . I am a coal-dealer in Camomile Street, about fifty or sixty yards from the prosecutor's—I let out trucks—on 6th March, about 25 minutes to 5, the prisoners came and said "Lend us a truck, governor"—they had this hamper with them—I was serving a customer, and when I had served him the prisoners were half way up the street with the hamper in their hands, one on each side—I did not let them the truck; they did not stop long enough.

ALFRED WHEELER . I am a porter at 2, York Row, Central Street, St. Luke's—on 6th March I was in Beech Street; I there met the prisoners—they said "Charlie, give us a lift up"—they put the hamper on my barrow, and we went on till the police stopped us.

Cross-examined by Gower. You said you would give me 6d. for doing it.

JOHN WILLIAM BOND . I am warehouseman to Mr. South—I saw this hamper there on 6th March; I did not open it; I opened a case that came with it after the hamper was missed—this is the invoice; it came by post—the hamper contained a portion of what we expected, and the boots in the case came from the same man, Mr. Waite, of Northampton—they exactly correspond with those found in the hamper.

Gower in his defence stated that the man who had the hamper promised them 1s. to carry it for him.

GUILTY of receiving . Both the prisoners PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted and several summary convictions were also proved against them.— Seven years' Penal Servitude.

389. OSCAR REUTER (19) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing (in Surrey) a watch of James Welsher, having been before convicted.

390. OSCAR REITTER was again indicted for stealing on 21st December 2 books, 4 books, and 1 other book, of the Civil Service Supply Association.

MESSRS. POLAND and BUCK Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.

EDWIN ARMITAGE GREGORY WELLS . I am an assistant to the Civil Service Supply Association at the stores in Bedford Street, Covent Garden—on 9th January, between 4 and half-past in the afternoon, I was engaged there attending to my business on the second floor—I saw the prisoner looking at some books in a book-case; I had suspicion, and watched him; I saw him put one under his coat and walk away—he had got as far as the front entrance on the second floor when Mr. Odell, the manager, stopped him—I told Mr. Odell that he had got a book under his coat—the prisoner said he had not—I left him with the manager—I afterwards saw the book; it is Campbell's works, worth 13s. 9d.

Cross-examined. I am employed in the jewellery department in the same room—I was going towards my counter when I saw the prisoner—several other persons were looking at books—I saw the colour of the book as the prisoner took it—I did not know at the time what book it was—I actually saw him take the book.

JOHN ODELL . The last witness called my attention to the prisoner, and I stopped him as he was opening the door to go out—I said "Have you been dealing in the book department?"—he said "No"—I said

"Have you a book taken from the shelf in the book department?"—he said "No"—I said "Have you any book about you?"—he said "No"—I asked him to step into the office; at first he refused; he said he was a member of the association, and he came up there to purchase goods, and I had no right to charge him with stealing a book—he made an effort to get near the book counter; I took him into the office, and as we entered he made a step to the right and leaned against the desk, and a moment afterwards this book appeared on the desk behind him—it was not there before—he said "What book do you charge me with stealing?"—he afterwards said he was not a member, but that he had come with a member—he gave the name of Abrahams, and gave an address—I sent Roland with him, and Roland returned without him.

Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner put the book on the desk, but I saw a motion of his body which suggested that it was put there.

FRBDEBICK MERITON . I am manager of the book department—I was called by Mr. Odell, and went with the prisoner into the office—I noticed a peculiar gesture against the back of the desk, and I saw this book these—I said "What about this book?"—he said "I know nothing whatever about it"—he said "Will you charge me with stealing it?"—I said "How was it you came in the stores?"—he said "With a member"—I said "What is his name?"—he said "Wootton"—the name was familiar to me, and I was rather cautious how I dealt with him—he gave some address at Clapham—I sent Roland with him.

Cross-examined. He gave some name as his own—to the best of my recollection it was Reuter. WILLIAM ROLAND. I received directions to go with the prisoner to 46, Holland Street, Clapham Road—he took me up one street and down another, and walked me about as if he was walking for pastime—at last he pointed to a house, and said, "Go and rap at the door"—I said, "No, you are better acquainted with the house"—I believe it was an unoccupied house—I just stooped down to see if there was any light, and he made a bolt and got away.

GEORGE BUSH (Policeman P 483). I took the prisoner into custody in the afternoon of March 8th on another charge—I took him to Southwark Police-court—I found on him 28 pawn-tickets, and others at his lodging, amongst them one of January 9th for five books, pledged at Mr. Vaughan's for 13s. in the name of John Brown, 18, Albert Square.

WILLIAM VAUGHAN . I am a pawnbroker, of 6, Upper Saint Martin's Line, which is about three minutes' walk from the Bedford Street stores—I produce five books pledged by the prisoner on January 9th for 13s. in the name of John Brown, Albert Square.

GUILTY of stealing the one book.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 1st, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

391. HENRY WHITE (25) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a coat of Robert Drummond, after a previous conviction of felony in August, 1873.

(Seven other convictions were proved against him.)— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

392. HARRY SCHULTZ (32) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Elizabeth Mattheson and stealing a pair of boots and 17s. the property of Peter Dalton .

MESSRS. COLE and PURCELL Prosecuted, and the evidence was interpreted to the Prisoner.

PETER DALTON . I am a seaman—on March 6th I was stopping at 29, St. George's Street in the East, but I slept at 7, St. John's Hill, which runs down from St. George's Street—I went to bed after 1 am., and took off everything—I awoke at 4 a.m. and missed my shoes and a silk handkerchief, and from my trousers pocket 17s.—I had put all my clothes in a box, and they were lying there in the morning when I missed my money—I found these old boots under the bed instead of mine—I examined the window and found the glass broken, so that a hand could be put through, and the bolt of the door shot—I tried that—I have not seen my property since.

ELIZABETH MATTHESON . I keep some girls at 7, St. John's Hill—it is a dwelling-house—I live there, and was sleeping there that night—I shut the house up about 11.30, and fastened the back door after 12 o'clock, just before I went to bed—the window in that door was not broken then—I afterwards heard a noise, got up, and found the door open and the window broken—I know the prisoner; he came in about 11.30, after knocking at the door, but I did not let him in—I told a young man to shut the door in his face, and he did so—the young man opened the street door, and I saw the prisoner—he has been to the house many times. (The Prisoner: "Never")—I swear he has—he is a seaman, and I stopped with him on more than one occasion, but he is not a friend of mine—I mean he stopped with me.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You stopped with me when you came from sea—we slept together.

ELIZABETH MUSCHAHP . I live at 5, John's Road—at 12.30 on the morning of March 6th I saw the prisoner pushing the door of No. 7, as I was coming from a dance with a friend—he seemed to be cross, and pushed the door with both hands—I said, "Go away; what is the use of your standing at the door?"—he said, "That is nothing"—I said, "She has got one young man; she can't open the door, and can't stop with you"—I then went in and shut the door—I saw him again from my bedroom window about 1 o'clock, pushing at No, 7 again—I opened my window and said, "Go away and don't make a noise, disturbing people"—he went down a little court, and I went in and shut my window.

JOHN SMITH . I am a pensioner, and live at St. George's Terrace, St. George's in the East—on March 6th, at 12.30 a.m., the prisoner came in drunk—I asked him to lend me 6d.—he said, "I have none, my old woman has taken it all away from me; if you will come with me I know where to get money and a lodging as well"—a lot of men were sitting round the table—I did not go with him; I stopped where I was—he went out and left me—I know these boots quite well; they are the prisoner's; he had them on that very night—the heels are full of nails, and they are worn on one side—I helped him tear the leather off the heels about a fortnight ago—I lodge in the same house with him.

Cross-examined. I will swear that these are the boots that came from on board ship—you have a fresh pair on now.

HENRY GIFFEN (Policeman K 562). I took the prisoner at St. George's chambers—on March 6th at 2 p.m., and told him it was for stealing a pair

of boots, a silk handkerchief and 17s.—he said, "I know nothing of it—he had on the boots he has on now.

The Prisoners Statemeat before the Magistrate. "It was not me."

Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about it.

NOT GUILTY .

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, April 1st, 1879.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

393. EMMA WOOD (20) PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing a watch, value 13l., and 20l., the property of Maria Trueman, having been previously convicted.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

394. ALEXANDER EDGAR SUTHERLAND (23) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for 30l., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. POLAND and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted.

FREDERICK WALTER BURTON . I am cashier at the City Bank, Tottenham Court Road branch—Mr. Rowland Plumbe had an account at that branch—on 6th March I cashed this cheque for 30l.—it purports to be signed by Rowland Plumbe, and was presented by the prisoner at about 10.15—I paid him four 5l. notes, Nos. 28847 to 50 inclusive, dated 6th July, 1878, and the rest in gold—on the 7th March the prisoner was brought into the bank and I immediately recognised him—I charged him with having presented the cheque the previous day—he said, "Had I this coat on?"—I said, "I do not know anything about the coat, but I go by the features and the voice"—I have not the least doubt he is the same person—this is one of the cheque books issued by the bank.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not say, "Was the person who got the cheque cashed dressed as I am?"—I am not aware that I ever saw you before that day.

ROWLAND PLUMBE . I am an architect and surveyor, and live at 13, Fitzroy Square—I keep an account at the City Bank, Tottenham Court Road branch—this is my cheque book—the prisoner was in my service for about 9 months and left last December—I kept the cheque book in a drawer in my office—it was open—the prisoner would know it was there—I was at my office on the 5th March—I live there—this cheque book was in the drawer—the drawer was not locked—this cheque is not written by me or by my authority—my attention was called to it on Thursday, 6th March—I had previously examined my cheque book and found that two counterfoils were taken out—one leaf is torn and cut out with the counterfoils—that is the number of one taken out—I also find that two genuine cheques which have been passed through the bankers are missing—one of these was signed by me in the ordinary way and is payable to J. Palmer—the forged cheque (produced) is payable to J. Palmer—the genuine cheque had Palmer's endorsement upon it, and the forged cheque has a similar endorsement—on Thursday morning, March 6th, in consequence of two police officers coming to my premises, I examined the yard and saw marks of someone having got over the wall, and also marks of someone having got into the back office—I had noticed on returning home late the previous night, Wednesday, 5th, that the street door was locked—I was the last up that night—the door was locked, the chain down, and the bolt shut.

Cross-examined. If the cheque had been taken out before the 5th I should

party of friends in Fleet Street—you said you were going to play at billiards—I have heard you speak about going to Fleet Street, but not what to do, or about a tavern there—I did not call you at 1 o'clock, but I called you afterwards—my mistress employs a brougham to drive about—I remember it being smashed, but not that same night—it gave rise to some talk in the kitchen—Mrs. Pastow stayed that night talking in the kitchen—that prevented me from calling you at 1—I am certain it was not another night—it was 2 o'clock when you went out—next morning I heard the bell ring, and sent down my son to let you in—the other lodger did not go out that morning—he is in the habit of going out at 6 o'clock—you said you had been waiting about the house till he came down, as you could not open the door—you said nothing about waiting from half-past 4—the door was fastened—the front bell rings on the steps, I believe—the bell, is not outside my bedroom door—the only bells I have noticed are inside the kitchen—I heard the bell; it woke me—there are two bedrooms below and one next to me—I am sure it was a cheque which you told me you expected—I do not remember your getting a paper from Scotland concerning money—I remember your having to sign a paper to send back to get some money on the Wednesday—that was a few days before this occurrence—you told me a week before to tell my mistress you expected some money and would pay her—it was between 10 and 11 by our clock when you returned—r was in the kitchen and went upstairs, and when I came down you told me you would pay me—you passed me in the kitchen—you passed me on the stairs afterwards at the breakfast-room door—I cannot tell whether our clock is fast; it was near 11—the clock varies.

RICHARD EDWARDS . I am an attendant upon a gentleman who sings at music-halls—I lodge with the prisoner, and we occupy the same bed—on Thursday, 6th March, I went home between 2 and 3 a.m.—I am very often late—the prisoner was not in bed—I went to bed—I do not know what time 1 got up in the morning—I saw the prisoner In the room, and he told me it was half-past 10—up to that time I had not been disturbed, and did not know the prisoner was in the room—I went to see the prisoner at the House of Detention in consequence of a letter I had from him—I cannot tell the date; it was the day after I. received the letter—he asked me to get him some money to provide him with proper food, and to mind some clothes for him which were in his box—in consequence of what he said I removed some of his things into my box—this pipe-case was among them—on the morning the prisoner was taken the servant found the watch and chain—I saw it on the table and I removed it—I had never seen it before—I never saw the prisoner with it—there were often socks lying about—there were some on that morning—I did not see these socks (produced)—I have seen the prisoner with stockings very much like these—they are not mine—the prisoner said nothing about the socks except that some friends had knitted some for him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Something was said about the brougham coming to grief, but I cannot say if that was the same night—on the night the brougham met with an accident I stayed in the kitchen a little while when they were talking about it—I remember your talking about cricket or billiards, but cannot say it was that night—I do not remember anything about the housekeeper calling you—she told me she was asleep past the time she promised to call you up—I do not remember your being in the kitchen that

party of friends in Fleet Street—you said you were going to play at billiards—I have heard you speak about going to Fleet Street, but not what to do, or about a tavern there—I did not call you at 1 o'clock, but I called you afterwards—my mistress employs a brougham to drive about—I remember it being smashed, but not that same night—it gave rise to some talk in the kitchen—Mrs. Pastow stayed that night talking in the kitchen—that prevented me from calling you at 1—I am certain it was not another night—it was 2 o'clock when you went out—next morning I heard the bell ring, and sent down my son to let you in—the other lodger did not go out that morning—he is in the habit of going out at 6 o'clock—you said you had been waiting about the house till he came down, as you could not open the door—you said nothing about waiting from half-past 4—the door was fastened—the front bell rings on the steps, I believe—the bell, is not outside my bedroom door—the only bells I have noticed are inside the kitchen—I heard the bell; it woke me—there are two bedrooms below and one next to me—I am sure it was a cheque which you told me you expected—I do not remember your getting a paper from Scotland concerning money—I remember your having to sign a paper to send back to get some money on the Wednesday—that was a few days before this occurrence—you told me a week before to tell my mistress you expected some money and would pay her—it was between 10 and 11 by our clock when you returned—r was in the kitchen and went upstairs, and when I came down you told me you would pay me—you passed me in the kitchen—you passed me on the stairs afterwards at the breakfast-room door—I cannot tell whether our clock is fast; it was near 11—the clock varies.

RICHARD EDWARDS . I am an attendant upon a gentleman who sings at music-halls—I lodge with the prisoner, and we occupy the same bed—on Thursday, 6th March, I went home between 2 and 3 a.m.—I am very often late—the prisoner was not in bed—I went to bed—I do not know what time 1 got up in the morning—I saw the prisoner In the room, and he told me it was half-past 10—up to that time I had not been disturbed, and did not know the prisoner was in the room—I went to see the prisoner at the House of Detention in consequence of a letter I had from him—I cannot tell the date; it was the day after I. received the letter—he asked me to get him some money to provide him with proper food, and to mind some clothes for him which were in his box—in consequence of what he said I removed some of his things into my box—this pipe-case was among them—on the morning the prisoner was taken the servant found the watch and chain—I saw it on the table and I removed it—I had never seen it before—I never saw the prisoner with it—there were often socks lying about—there were some on that morning—I did not see these socks (produced)—I have seen the prisoner with stockings very much like these—they are not mine—the prisoner said nothing about the socks except that some friends had knitted some for him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Something was said about the brougham coming to grief, but I cannot say if that was the same night—on the night the brougham met with an accident I stayed in the kitchen a little while when they were talking about it—I remember your talking about cricket or billiards, but cannot say it was that night—I do not remember anything about the housekeeper calling you—she told me she was asleep past the time she promised to call you up—I do not remember your being in the kitchen that

morning at 2 o'clock—when you told me it was half-past 10 I said "it is quite early; I thought it was about 12"—I rose shortly after—you had a pair of leather shoes or moccasins, which you said were made of buffalo-hide—I do not remember whether you had a pair of shoes before you went to Scotland—you used to go downstairs in the leather shoes—before you got them you went down in your stockings to brush your shoes—I remember your getting some grey knitted socks—you wore them, and they used to go to the wash—the grey ones were discarded by that time, and several pairs were lying about the room—going downstairs and into the washhouse in your socks, would leave a mark upon the soles—sometimes we would go out into the yard to brush the boots—I have looked at the socks—there is sufficient dirt to make these socks in the state they are now in—I do not remember the time when I got downstairs that morning—I did not think you wanted to conceal the property.

Re-examined. At this time he had a pair of leather shoes he had been wearing to go downstairs in.

SOLOMON BOTIBOL . I am a tobacconist at 77, Fleet Street—on Thursday, March 6th, I sold this pipe and cigar case to a young man for 2bs.—he paid for it with a 5l. note, taken from several others he had in his hand—I gave him the change—I could not say what the notes were—the one I had was a 5l. note—I keep an account at the London and County Bank, Aldersgate Street branch, and paid this note in there with other money on the 10th March.

CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk at the Bank of England, and produce a 5l. note, No. 28849, dated 6th July, 1878—it came into the Bank of England on the 11th March from the London and County Bank, Aldersgate Street branch.

JAMES RAINEY . I am cashier at the London and County Bank, Aidersgate Street branch—Mr. Solomon Botibol has an account there, and on the 10th March he paid in 29l. including this 5l. note—I passed it to the Bank of England.

HENRY FLETCHER (Detective L). On Friday, 7th March, I arrested the prisoner at 94, Hercules Buildings—I told him he was suspected of uttering a forged cheque in the name of Mr. Plumbe—I said "I want you to go to Tottenham Court Road with me"—on the way I said, "You know Mr. Plumbe, don't you?" he said "Yes, I have been in his employment"—at the bank he was identified by the clerk, Mr. Burton, and the prisoner said, "Did I have the same clothes on as I have got now?"—Mr. Burton said he did not know, he recognised him by his features—when charged at the police station he said nothing—I went to his lodgings on the 8th March—I saw some socks—I found 5l. in gold in a box, and 3l. 10s. in gold in the table drawer—this watch and chain were handed to me by the witness Edwards—I went again on the 13th March and brought away the pair of socks which have been produced here—I noticed mud at the bottom and it looked fresher than now—I saw this pipe and cigar case in his box on the 8th—on the 13th Edwards handed it to me, and I brought it away.

Cross-examined. I saw no other socks with dirt on them—I did not examine a locked box—I have a bunch of keys I took from you at Tottenham Court Road—I examined the large box—I saw a pair of shoes out at one of the sides, but the soles were good—I went to your lodgings the night the forgery was discovered and inquired for you—I left word that Harry

had called for some money—I was obliged to make some excuse—the next morning I sent to say a gentleman wanted to see you—you went voluntarily to Tottenham Court Road with me quietly when I asked you to go—I took you to the cashier—he had seen me before on the Thursday night—he might be aware you were the person sent for—I did not make any motion to him—he did not notice us when we first came in—he told you he recognised you by your features.

The Prisoner in a long defence explained the mode in which he passed his time on the night in question, and accounted for the dirt upon the stockings through going into the yard; and he also stated that there were three other notes which he had not been charged with: a cheque and two counterfoils, and two cheques which had been used and obliterated were abstracted from the cheque book also: they were missing and had not been found, and his lodgings had been searched repeatedly.

GUILTY of uttering.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 2nd, 1879.

Before Mr. Justice Stephen.

395. THOMAS PERRYMAN (31) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the wilful murder of Frances Perryman.

MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted; MESSES. MONTAGU WIILIAMS and WARNER SLEIGH Defended.

ELIZABETH ANN STREVENS . I live at 29, Harmood Street, Kentish Town, with my husband, Henry Strevens—the prisoner lived in the same house with his mother, Frances Perryman, in the first-floor back—we lived in the front room on the same floor—on Wednesday afternoon, 5th February, I went out about 2 o'clock—I returned about 5 o'clock and went upstairs—the prisoner came in about five minutes after; I heard him, I did not see him; he went into his room—I then heard a scuffle, I heard his mother's voice; I did not hear her speak more than once, I could not hear the words that she used—it was when I heard the scuffle that I heard her voice—I thought there was something the matter—I had seen Mrs. Perryman between 12 and 1 o'clock that day; that Was the last time I saw her, I did not speak to her then; she went through the passage—when I heard the scuffle I went down to the landlady and spoke to her—while I was speaking to her I heard the prisoner come downstairs and go out; it seemed directly after I had come down, I should think it was about 10 minutes from the time I heard him go into the room until I heard him go out—I did not notice what time it was, it was a little after 5 o'clock—I continued speaking to the landlady, and the prisoner came in again in an instant and went up into his room—I mean he returned in an instant after he had gone out; I heard him come in and go upstairs again—I then went up to my room; I thought I heard the prisoner crying, I came down again directly and spoke to the landlady, and while doing so I heard the prisoner go out again—he would have to pass the door of the room, it was closed—immediately afterwards the landlady and her husband went upstairs and I followed; the room door was locked and the key was in it, outside—they knocked and received no answer—I think the landlord called "Mrs. Perryman" three times; they then opened the door and went in; I followed into the roo—I saw Mrs. Perryman lying on the bed on her left side—she was dead, but warm, the

bed clothes were all round up to her throat, covered up, right up to her ears—she had her clothes on—I did not notice the state of her dress then; I felt her forehead, she felt as if she had just gone, still warm—I did nothing else—the landlord left to get a doctor—a policeman afterwards came—nothing was done to the body or the clothes by me or the landlady, the clothes were not disturbed at all—the deceased and the prisoner had been living in the house about four months—she was a sober woman—he was not a sober man—I don't think he was in any work at this time—I had not seen him earlier in the day.

Cross-examined. I was not conversant with the contents of their room, I had never been in it before—the deceased's head was at the foot of the bed.

By the COURT. I heard the prisoner go upstairs twice; I did not see him either time; I thought it must be him because nobody else had any business there—I did not hear anything to make me sure it was him—I heard the deceased's voice, but did not hear what she said.

By MR. POLAND. The prisoner and his mother slept in the same room; they had a second room; they did not use it—the prisoner always slept in the same room with his mother.

JANE RUDD . I am the wife of James Lewis Rudd, of 39, Harmood Street—I am the landlady—the prisoner and his mother had been lodging there about four months; they occupied the first-floor back—the prisoner is a stonemason by trade; he was not in work at the time this occurred—I do not think he had been in work for 9 or 10 weeks—Mrs. Perryman was nearly 70 years of age, she told me she was just on 70—she did nothing for her living—they both used the same room—I believe there were some articles in the other room, but not a bed in it, there was one bed in the room which they both used—the prisoner told me that he himself slept in a corner of the room on the floor—on Wednesday, 5th February, I saw Mrs. Perryman between 11 and 12 o'clock in the day, I was in the back parlour and saw her go out with a pail and return with it—she appeared in her usual health at that time; she was dressed in her ordinary day clothing; she did not speak to me; I saw her out of the parlour window; that was the last time I saw her, I heard her afterwards—I generally saw her every day, sometimes she was rather bad and unable to go out, but latterly, for the last few weeks, she was in her usual health as far as I know—I don't remember hearing her after about 2 o'clock that day, she was then going through the passage from the street to go upstairs—I had not seen the prisoner that afternoon—I heard him go out about 1 o'clock—besides Mrs. Strevens there was a man and his wife lodging in an ante-room, a back room on the stairs, they were both out that day—about 5 o'clock that afternoon I saw Mrs. Strevens come in and the prisoner came in about live minutes after Mrs. Strevens went upstairs—I did not see the prisoner come in, I heard him—I thought it was him by the walk, he went upstairs—about eight or ten minutes afterwards Mrs. Strevens came down and made a statement to me and while she was speaking to me I heard the prisoner come down and go out, and I saw him through the parlour window—I saw him run out from the street door and out of the gate and up the street, he appeared madly excited, he ran and threw up his arms and legs, he seemed to fly almost, he did not pass by the window, he went the other way—he returned in what appeared to be not more than a minute or a minute and a half—I caught sight of him as he returned but

not distinctly, it was getting dusk—my husband saw him—he went upstairs leaving the street door wide open, it opens with a latch key, he usually had one—Mrs. Strevens was still with me in the front parlour, she went upstairs, my husband came home at the time—Mrs. Strevens had been gone only a minute or so before she ran down again and made a statement to me—I heard the prisoner come downstairs again and go out and shut the door—I did not see him at all on that occasion, I only heard him—I ran upstairs immediately and went to the door of the back room first floor—I knocked loudly and called Mrs. Perryman three times by name—I got no answer or any sound of any kind—my husband came up immediately after—he knocked three times and called; he then opened the door, we got a light, and went in—the door was locked and the key left on the outside—there was no light or fire in the room; when we went in we saw Mrs. Perryman lying on the bed: there was no sign of life at all in her—she was lying partially on the left side, with the knees drawn up; her head was towards the foot of the bed; lying on pillows and bolster; they were placed underneath her head, about a foot from the foot of the bedstead—the bedclothes were partially covered over her up round the ears, and part of an old black shawl was wrapped round the neck—there were not many bedclothes—she was wearing boots and stockings and her legs were drawn up and exposed to the knees—she was fully dressed—I got a looking-glass and placed it to her mouth, but I saw no sign of breath—I did not move the clothes in the least—I noticed no marks about her at that time—we did not know that anything had happened to her then—my husband felt the pulse of her left hand, which was outside the coverlid, and I felt her forehead—my husband ran for a doctor, there were two or three tables in the room, but it was all in a state of confusion—there was nothing overturned—I believe it always had been in that state, I have heard so but I have not been inside the room—there were no signs of disturbance, nothing to attract my attention—there were two or three chairs in the room—I remained in the room while my husband had gone for the doctor—I dare say we were there for an hour or more; he was not able to get a doctor for some considerable time—I remained there till Mr. Shoppee came—my husband fetched a policeman when he could not get a doctor—he did not disturb the body or the clothes, he came and looked but did not touch, he fetched another constable—when Mr. Shoppee came he looked at the deceased and thought that her death might have arisen from a blow—there was a large lump on her forehead, but that was a tumour—the doctor did nob disturb the clothes at all—nothing was done with the room after the doctor left, it was locked up and the body was left in the room that night, the door was locked and I had the key—about 9 o'clock or a little before, that same night, the prisoner came to the house, he went straight upstairs—I had the key of the room at that time—he came down immediately and asked for the key—I said the police had got it—my husband came in at the front door and confronted the prisoner at the foot of the stairs; he said, "Are you aware what has occurred upstairs?" the prisoner said, "Unfortunately I am"—he said, "I ran for brandy and I ran all the way to Holloway;" he muttered something else not quite distinct, about having friends, and walked out of the house—he was not sober then, he came back again but I did not admit him, I kept the chain on the door, he was not allowed to come into the house that night—about 12 or between 12 and 1 that same night, Inspector Dodd came with another

Inspector—I gave him the key of the room and went up with him—in con-sequence of what my husband had told him, he uncovered the deceased's throat, and I saw a mark round the throat quite distinctly—I had seen that before, I went up with my husband previous to that, I think about 11 o'clock, he uncovered the throat, then I saw the mark, and I noticed that her dress was unfastened from the stays down to the waist—the stays were unfastened and the dress also and the chemise, literally quite bare to the waist—I think my husband covered the clothes over again, and I locked the room up again—after the Inspector had left the room we locked it up again until Inspector Dodd with Sergeant Lucas came next morning; about half past 9, I gave him the key and went into the room with him—I saw them examine the body—I don't remember noticing this red handkerchief until after the death, I saw it round the deceased's neck when the Inspector and Sergeant Lucas were there—I saw Sergeant Lucas take it from the neck, it was hanging quite loose—the body was taken away about 7 o'clock that evening to the mortuary—that would be Thursday evening; she was removed in the same state, with the clothes on—after the police had made a further examination of the place, the key of the room was given to me—I did not know much about Mrs. Perryman's means—I don't know anything about this black handkerchief—I remember a foreign letter coming for her about Christmas time—the deceased told me that it came from Australia, 18,000 miles off—I believe I should know the envelope again, it was a square envelope—a young lady brought it to the door and I called Mrs. Perryman downstairs to receive it from her—I should say this (produced) is the envelope, but I could not be quite positive; it had either three or four stamps on it, I think this was about three weeks before Christmas, but that I am not quite sure of.

Cross-examined. The prisoner returned to the house several times after 9 o'clock, and I refused to let him in or his brother—the brother came several times also—there was no sign of any struggle when I went first into the room—the bed was greatly in confusion—there was no sign of any struggle on the bed—when we first went to the door the key was on the outside of the door and locked—I do not know anything about the furniture that was in the room—I had never been inside the room, only to the door—when my husband said to the prisoner, "Are you aware what has happened?" I believe his reply was, "Unfortunately I do"—I think he said, "I know she has gone, poor old soul; you don't know our circumstances"—I could not say whether he appeared to be sober when I saw him run out in the afternoon—I said before the Coroner, "He walked as if sober that afternoon, but in the evening when he returned he was the worse for drink"—that is correct—that was after I had refused him admittance.

JAMES LEWIS BUDD . I am the husband of the last witness—on 5th February I came home about 5.15—as I approached the house I saw the prisoner coming down the street towards the house—he turned into the small garden in front of the house in front of me, went in, and left the door wide open and went upstairs—I went into my own room—while I was there with my wife Mrs. Strevens came downstairs—while she was speaking to in I heard, as I supposed, the prisoner come downstairs and go out; that was not more than 3 minutes after he had gone up—after he had gone out my wife and Mrs. Strevens went upstairs; they called me and I followed them up; I knocked at the door three or four times, and called "Mrs.

Perryman" each time—the door was locked and the key was on the outside; getting no answer I asked Mrs. Strevens for a light, and I went into the room, and behind the door, lying on the bed, I saw the body of Mrs. Perryman she was lying partially on her left side; her head was towards the foot of the bed; the door opens close to the bed; her head was about half a yard from the foot of the bed—I felt her pulse directly I went in; she was quite warm—I could not see any part of her neck—I went out to try and find a doctor—I first removed the clothes about 10 o'clock, after I had been and heard a remark from the prisoner's brother; they were torn completely open in front—I met the prisoner on the stain about 9 o'clock—at that time the room had been locked up—he was under the influence of liquor—I asked him if he knew what had occurred upstairs—he said, "Unfortunately I do, but you don't know our circumstances; I have been for brandy, and I ran all the way to Hollo way"—that was all that was said; he then went out of the house—he was in a very excitable state; he burst out crying whilst he was speaking to me—I next saw him about 10 o'clock at the Prince of Wales public-house at the corner of the street, about 80 yards from the house; I was in the private bar then, he was in the public bar opposite—I could see him quite distinctly; he was speaking to a person whom I have since found out was his brother, William Henry Perryman—they were quarrelling together; the brother was trying to stand up from a fall, and the prisoner was trying to push him down—I heard the brother say, "You told me you hung your mother," or words to that effect; that was when the prisoner was trying to push his brother down into the seat; he pushed him down, and said, "You shut up"—I did not hear anything else said—they were both drunk—in consequence of what I heard there I went back to my house and told my wife, and then it was that I went upstairs and saw the marks; I removed a portion of the garments round the throat and chin, and by the light of the lamp I saw the red mark round the throat; that was, I believe, the first time that the clothing had been touched—in consequence of what I saw I consulted a friend and then went to the police-station; Inspector Dodd followed me back—the door of the room remained locked during the night—the prisoner came there several times and the brother also, they came separately—I don't know when the brother came first; it was after I had seen him at the public-house—I did not admit either of them—the brother came again about 7 in the morning—I got up and went out to look for a policeman, and the brother followed me while I was looking for the policeman as far as the Shipton public-house—he went in there and brought the prisoner out, and that was the last I saw of the prisoner until he was in custody.

Cross-examined. In the public-house they both appeared to me to be considerably the worse for drink.

By the COURT. I could not swear exactly to the words the brother used; they were, "You hung your mother," or "You told me you hung your mother;" it was one of those two; I am not sure which; that was what I meant by saying "or words to that effect."

CHARLES 'DODO (Police Inspector Y). On Wednesday night, 5th February, at midnight, Mr. Rudd came to the Kentish Town Police station; in consequence of what he said I went to 39, Harmood Street—on the way I saw the prisoner at the top of Harmood Street; he was drunk; he looked Very excited in his manner—he said to me "Where can I get a bed?"—I

told him at a coffee-house—he made no reply—I followed him to a coffee-house close by, 44, Ferdinand Street, and engaged him a bed, and he went in there—I directed an officer to watch the house—I then went to 39 Harmood Street, to the first-floor back room; Mrs. Rudd opened the door and I saw the woman lying on the bed; I then saw the mark on the neck; I did not make any full examination then; I merely looked at the mark, and cleared the room of the people that were in, locked the door, and gave the key to Mrs. Rudd with directions that no one should enter till I returned in the morning—next morning I went there at 9.30 with Sergeant Lucas—I then examined the woman; I moved a black shawl that was round the neck, which I had covered up on the previous night; it had been put there and removed by the witness Rudd, and I covered up the neck again with it in the same state in which it was—I removed it and the bedclothing to the waist—I saw this red handkerchief lying loosely round the neck on to the breast, in this position (describing it)—I directed Lucas to remove it, which he did, and I took possession of it; it was precisely in the same condition when he removed it as it is now, with this knot in it, and it was torn exactly as it is now—I noticed that the clothing she was wearing had been undone to the waist, the dress, stays, and chemise; it was a very old chemise, and it was low down towards the waist; it was unfastened, or looked as if it had been torn; it looked as if they had all come away at once—I noticed a mark round the neck—she was fully dressed; she was lying partially on her left side, her knees drawn up, and the head was very much elevated on pillows—the room was in a very dirty state—I did not see any appearance of any struggle having taken place—I noticed a cupboard with a door to it; it had on it an ordinary iron hat-peg; that was unbroken; there was nothing attached to it—I found this piece of cord in the room, which was used as a. clothes-line; it was suspended across the room fastened to two nails, one on each side of the room—the hat-peg was six feet from the ground—there was nothing underneath it—I examined the floor; the size of the room was 12 feet by 11—the room door opened against the bedstead, on the right as you go in—the Chief Inspector arranged for the body to be removed—Sergeant Lucas searched the room in my presence to see if he could find any money—no money was found—I did not smell or see any spirits in the room—the body was removed about half-past 6 on the Thursday evening—I saw the prisoner during that day; I first saw him about 11 at the Prince of Wales public-house; he was not sober; I did not speak to him—I saw next about half-past 1 in the day; he was not sober then; that was at the Kentish Town Police-station—he was brought there in custody on a charge of drunkenness—he was searched in my presence, and this small black handkerchief was taken from his breast coat-pocket; there was nothing in it; the money was in his waistcoat pocket; 16s. 3 1/2 d. was taken from him, and five pawnbrokers'duplicates, one for two neckties on 11th January, 1879, for 6d. in the name of Williams; on 18th January, 1879, a hammer for 1s. in the name of Johnson; on 27th January five tools for 1s. in the same name; on 28th January 23 tools and a bag for 3s. in the same name; and on 29th January six silver tea-spoons and sugar-tongs for 17s. in the name of Thomas Payne, pledged at Mr. Alworthy's, 5, Lismore Circus, Haverstock Hill; the others were pledged at another pawnbroker's named Thompson close by—I also found on him this latch-key—as he was going to the cells he said "Give me that money; what are you going to do with it?

it was my mother's, poor old girl; she has been dead these two months, and buried in Finchley Cemetery"—he was drunk—I next spoke to him at 1.30 p. m. at the Marylebone Police-court—he was then sober—I said "You will be charged on suspicion of having caused the death of your mother, Frances Perryman, at 39, Harmood Street, on the 5th instant"—he said "Very well"—he made a long pause, and then said "Me kill the poor old girl 1"—I cautioned him; I told him that anything he said might be used in evidence; I said that before he said anything—I then held up this black handkerchief, and said "How do you account for the possession of this handkerchief?"—he said "I suppose that is what the money was wrapped in"—I said "How do you account for the possession of the money?"—he said "That is change for a sovereign I found about the poor old girl"—he afterwards corrected himself, and said "No, it must have been in the handkerchief on the mantelshelf"—that was all that passed—the charge was then entered, and he was taken before the Magistrate the same day.

Cross-examined. I did not take any note of the articles of furniture that were in the room—I noticed, but did not take any note—there were chairs, only one bed—I saw a tub, it was like a tub cut in two—it is here—the iron peg behind the door was an ordinary one for hanging dresses on, screwed into the door—it was about 6 feet from the ground—I measured it at 9.30 on the Thursday morning—I went there first, about 1 o'clock on the Thursday morning, or a little after—it was on my second visit at 9.30 that I measured it—I should say the tub stood about 2 feet high from the floor—this red handkerchief is torn, and broken short off at the knot—that is precisely as I found it—it was severed, and lying loosely on the neck. Re-examined. The parts where it is severed were lying close together—I could see the two ends—I could see that it was severed when Lucas took it up—the tub was empty—I should think it had been used for washing purposes—it is about 20 inches in diameter—it was behind a chest of drawers, which as I entered the room faced the door—then there was a distance between the back of the chest of drawers to the cupboard door of about 5 feet, and the end of the tub was up against the drawers, or nearly so—the tub was standing on its side against the wall—the open part was lying out into the room—(The witness drew a sketch of the room)—the tub stood between the drawers and the cupboard—the cupboard door is here (produced)—the peg is now broken—at the time I examined the room the peg was screwed on all right—the witness is here who broke it—the tub was standing about 8 inches from the cupboard door—I believe the object of the drawers standing out from the wall was that the prisoner should have a bed there where he could lie, but there was nothing of the kind there.

THOMAS LUCAS (Police Sergeant Y). I went with the last witness to the house, and was present while he examined the place—I assisted in searching the room—I found some papers there, amongst them the envelope of one from Australia—another witness will produce the letter—we found three or four Australian letters—the Coroner's officer has one, dated 7th October,* 1878, it was taken charge of before I was there—I have heard Inspector Dodd describe the manner in which this handkerchief was found round the neck—it was an accurate description.

EDWARD COLLETT SHOPPEE . I am a M.R.C.S., and a registered medical practitioner, living at 233, Kentish Town Road—on Wednesday, 5th February, the police fetched me to 39, Harmood Street—I got there about

6.10—I went up into the back room first-floor, and saw the woman lying dead on the bed—her head was towards the door as you entered the room, propped up by several pillows, and a bolster folded underneath her shoulders—there was an interval between the pillows and the iron work of the bed—the upper portion of the body was covered up with old bedclothing right up to the face; the lower portion was uncovered, to the extent of a couple of feet perhaps, up to the knees—I saw that she had her clothing on—she was quite dead—the body was cooling, but still warm—I thought she had been dead about an hour—I did not notice any smell of spirits in the room—my attention was called to a swelling on the deceased's right temple—I asked if it was recent, and I was told yes—I was of opinion at that time that it was possibly a mark of violence—I afterwards ascertained that it was an old wen from a tumour—I did not make any examination of the state of the body at that time, except to ascertain the fact of life or death—I did not uncover the neck; I only felt the condition of the hand to see if there was any pulsation—having satisfied myself that she was dead, I made no further examination—I did not see the handkerchief at that time—I reported the matter to the Coroner's officer—I was afterwards directed to make a post-mortem examination—I made it on Friday the 7th at the mortuary, St. Pancras—the divisional surgeon of the police, Mr. Downes, was present—I have my original notes made at the time in the mortuary—externally I found the body was fairly nourished—she appeared to be a little over 70—there was a cluster of blood spots at the top of the left thigh; that is usually found in cases of suffocation, arising from various causes—there was not very much post-mortem staining—the lividity of the body was not very great—I found a mark on the neck which began three fingers' breadth below the right ear, and passed backwards round the back of the neck, and under the chin, terminating with a deep dent on the margin of the lower jaw-bone—it extended round the neck, across the left side to about an inch in front of the angle of the jaw, fading off into a pink line on the right cheek—the mark varied in width from a quarter to half an inch, broader behind, but mow deeply indented in front, particularly so at its termination—the colour of the mark was a light mahogany brown, and the skin was parchment-like to the touch—I believe it was a mark made during life—there was no blood or froth from the mouth or nose; the eyes were not congested; the clothing and the buttocks of the deceased were soiled by a motion—the palms of the hands were not marked by the print of finger nails, but both palms and nails were livid—on turning back the skin corresponding to the mark, the superficial muscles were found somewhat blanched internally—the liver and kidneys were healthy, the stomach was half-full of partially digested food, composed of meat and vegetable matter—there was no smell of alcohol—the stomach itself was healthy, the heart was healthy, containing an ounce or more of dark fluid blood in the right ventricle, the left side empty; the aorta, the principal bloodvessel, was healthy; there was some evidence of old disease at the top of the right lung—on section the lobes appeared deeply congested, mostly so at the base, with frothy mucus of a dark bloody colour—the right bronchial tube was intensely congested, and its divisions filled up with frothy bloody mucus; on the left side similar appearances—the trachea was much congested, diminishing towards the upper end—the trachea or larynx was uninjured, the tongue pale and not bitten, the superficial vessels of the brain were slightly congested, the brain

healthy—the upper portion of the spinal cord healthy, the vertebrae uninjured—that was all—the marks I saw on the neck might have been caused by this handkerchief—in my judgment the cause of death was strangulation—I should think in this case constriction of the neck would not have to be kept up more than a minute and a half before death would be caused—I think that would be quite sufficient time to cause death—I saw no other cause of death but the strangulation; I should think it was accelerated by fear—in my judgment she could not herself have inflicted the marks I saw on the neck by strangulation—in my judgment she could not have used this handkerchief in a way to strangle herself, from the marks I saw; she had not power enough to produce such deep indentations—in my judgment the marks on the neck might have been caused by hanging herself, if a specially arranged loop had been made.

By the COURT. I mean, if a running knot had been made, but then we should not have had the absence of the 2 1/2 inches mark on the neck; if these two ends had been tied together and hung on a nail such as that, and her head thrust through it, she might have been suspended, and that might have made the appearances I saw, but not with a running noose; if it had been tied at the ends and hung on a nail and the woman was suspended in it, it might have caused such marks; that is, if a person in order to hang themselves had first of all tied a tight knot and placed the two ends together and then put the loop over the peg, and then put the head into the loop, in that way it might be done, but the chances on the contrary are that the body might fall out before death had taken place—there was no connecting mark on the throat or neck; if done in the way suggested it would account for the marks on the back part of the neck as well—it depends upon whether the woman hung herself sideways or with her face to the door—there must have been a great deal of pressure on the back of the neck—if a person wanted to commit suicide in that way, one would presume they could not do otherwise than fix the loop under the chin; if that were done one would expect to find a deep mark there—I wanted to put it in every possible light, and it occurred to me that supposing by accidental circumstances the woman, instead of putting it in that way, put her face sideways instead of having her back to the door, and getting the pressure under the chin, she had gone in a side way direction facing the bed or window, then you might get the interval of 2 1/2 inches; then the pressure would come under the angle of the jaw on one side—if done in that way I should expect to find a point where there was no pressure behind—if a person was lying on a bed and you put a loop round the neck and exerted, great pressure, that pressure would show at every point except where the cords did not cross; if on the other hand a person exerts the pressure by their own weight, then the indentation must prevail about the point where the weight of the body acts; the pressure could not come, and the marks could not be made on that part of the body where the weight did not act—if a person hung herself with such a loop as I have described the body would probably swing about in one way or other, but the point where the cords would not cross must almost of necessity he at the back of the neck—I put forward the fact of a person hanging herself in the way described as a remote possibility.

Q. Then just see if this expresses your view quite accurately: "I think that if a person did hang herself in a loop, it would be possible, but highly improbable, that such an indentation as I saw in this case should appear on

the back of the neck, as the chin must be put through the loop, and the weight of the body, in the absence of a running noose, would be thrown on the fore part and sides of the neck." A. Quite. so; I assent to that.

By MR. POLAND. Assuming that the woman was on the bed and that some person had used this handkerchief for the purpose of strangling her the marks I saw were consistent with that; if the handerchief had been worn round the neck as it ordinarily is, by just catching hold of the two ends and pulling backwards and upwards, if the woman was lying on the bed, that would be sufficient—the pink mark on the cheek showed that there was an upward direction used—the distortion is generally greater in strangulation than in hanging, because, as a rule, more violence is used—in this case there was not what I should term great distortion—I have said that the death might have been caused by strangulation, accelerated by fear, because terror has been known to do so; I do not say so from the post-mortem appearance—the motion would come from her just at the time of death—she was rather peculiarity dressed, she wore men's trousers—I could not form any opinion as to what position she was in when the motion came from her.

Cross-examined. In my opinion death from strangulation inflicted by herself was impossible—suffocation by suspension by herself is very remotely possible; there is a remote possibility—in death by strangulation I should expect to find considerable distortion, as a rule—there was a decided absence of distortion in this case—the mark on the neck was over the whole circumference of the neck except about 2 1/2 inches—if the head was in an ordinary position the mark would be slightly oblique; it depends on the way in which you have the head—obliquity is more common in death by suspension, and the mark is generally high up; in strangulation it is more circular—there must have been a good deal of violence to produce such a mark as I saw—I should not have expected to find the remains of a considerable struggle on the bed—if it had been done in the room, and the body subsequently placed on the bed, I should have expected to find signs of a considerable struggle, if strangulation had been inflicted with considerable violence—I have not seen any death caused by hanging—I cannot tell how many I have seen from strangulation; I have seen bodies after death, but I have not taken part in the examination of any from strangulation—I have not made any examination in either case; I have made plenty of post-mortem examinations in other cases—I have said that the muscles were blanched—I should not expect to find the muscles dark in colour under the mark—I do not think in hanging by a loose noose that the weight of the body would necessarily cause it to swing, unless it was suspended from a tree; it depends from what point you suspend it, if you suspended it from that gas branch it might; if suspended from that hook it would be quite unlikely to twist right round—supposing a person had a low stool or something underneath to raise themselves from the ground, and kicked it away, if the noose was loose, it would be quite unlikely that the body, if against a door, would swing round.

Re-examined. I do not know what the weight of the deceased's body was; she was fairly nourished; she was about 5 feet 4 inches in height.

By the COURT. The distortion of the features depends a good deal on the amount of time during which the constriction is kept up; if quickly removed, in cases of hanging, even in judicial executions, there would be very little distortion—I have said that in this case it would not take more than a minute and a half to effect strangulation; if after that time the ligature was removed

I should expect to find very little distortion—the degree of distortion would depend partly on the violence used and partly on the time during which the process lasted—it would require extraordinary resolution for a person to keep up the pressure for a minute and a half on their own person, they would become insensible; if they became insensible and the hands relaxed, the cords would at once become loose, therefore it would be morally impossible that any person could strangle themselves and produce the mark on themselves otherwise than by hanging.

DENNIS SYDNEY DOWNBS . I am a M.RC.S. of Dublin, and surgeon to the police at Kentish Town—I was present with Mr. Shoppee at the time the post-mortem examination was made on the body of the deceased—I have heard the account that he has given as the result of that examination, and agree with him in what he has said as to the appearance of the body—I took part with him in the examination—I think the cause of death was strangulation; it would have, required great violence to produce the marks I saw—I think it is possible that a person could have produced such a mark upon themselves by strangulation—I have seen it in the living—it would require considerable strength to do it, long-continued constriction—a person would he likely to lose consciousness in the attempt—I do not think that a woman of 70 could have used such violence as this without losing consciousness—I have a case in my mind where a drunken woman in a cell got her bonnet strings round her neck, and I was called in to cut her down, there was a very strong mark there, the strings were tied tightly, and she could not undo them; in that case the strangulation would go on after the loss of consciousness—if the strings were not tied constriction would cease—the mark I saw could be produced by suspension—I do not moan by hanging in the ordinary way, except by a regulated noose, not by the handkerchief I have seen—I agree with what Mr. Shoppee has said with regard to a running noose—it would have to be done in the way he described, in a noose, a loop would not do it; it would not make that mark en the neck—a prepared noose would be continuous—I do not think it possible that the mark could he produced by a prepared loop, because the mark did not unite, there was an interval of 2 1/2 inches—I am of opinion that it was produced by the handkerchief put round the neck, and caught by the hand.

By the COURT. A person might make a mark round their neck by hanging themselves, but if hung in a running noose it would make a mark right round the neck—this mark must have been made by a loop, not by a noose—the hanging by the loop would not produce a similar mark, the mark would not go all round the neck, and it would be differently placed—in my judgment this mark was caused by strangulation.

Cross-examined The frayed part of this handkerchief is about three quarters of an inch from the knot, a woman's head could go into that space if the two ends were put together; if she stood sideways to the hook on the door, and kicked something away on which she was standing that might account for the want of continuity round the neck, but it would be differently placed, it would be placed posteriorly—if the noose was placed on the hook, and then she put her head into it, and then kicked away the object on which she stood, I don't think that would account for the want of continuity of the mark round the neck; I feel sure of that; the continuity would be greater, there would be a larger space between the ends; they would not meet where they did—there would be a want of continuity, but it would be a

very large amount of it—the face was placid and pale in colour when I saw it—that was on the Friday at 2.30 in the afternoon—there was a certain amount of lividity of the palms of the hands, and they were clenched, but not closed—there was not so much lividity as you would find in extreme violence, that is from hanging—you may have them violently clenched sometimes, they vary very much—I could not form any definite opinion from the state of the hands as I found them.

Re-examined. I agree with Mr. Shoppee that the amount of distortion would depend upon whether the constriction was quickly removed or not—if quickly removed there would be very little distortion—it would depend upon the amount of the violence and the time at which the constriction was kept up—death would be caused by the constriction very rapidly.

JOSEPH PIMM . I am barman to my uncle, who keeps the Prince of Wales public-house—I had known the prisoner as a customer for about three months before this matter occurred—on Wednesday, 5th February, I saw him in the Prince of Wales, about 7 o'clock in the evening, with his brother—I did not know his brother before—they were in front of the bar; they were sober; they had nothing to drink in the house then—the brother said to him "You have hung my mother; you told me you have hung my mother"—the prisoner made no reply—the remark was made in an angry tone by the brother; they were on the other side of the bar—I know Mr. Rudd—I did not notice him there at the time; he was a customer of ours—they were sitting down on the other side of the bar at the time, and after that they rose up and walked out in two or three minutes—about 9 o'clock that evening I saw the prisoner again—there was another man there named Cowten—the prisoner was in a very excited state; I served him with two threes of brandy hot; he paid me with a sovereign, which he took from his breast pocket, it seemed to come from a corner of a black handkerchief like this (produced); he took it out of the handkerchief and handed it to me to pay for the brandy, and I gave him 19s. 6d. change—I did not notice what he did with the change; he left without drinking the brandy.

Cross-examined. I gave my evidence to the Treasury, but not before the Magistrate or Coroner—in my opinion they were both perfectly sober when the brother said this, and they were both sitting down at the time, they got up and went out together—Cowten was present when the prisoner took the sovereign from the handkerchief.

Re-examined. I knew Cowten before, he is a jobbing gardener; he did not come in with the prisoner when he changed the sovereign, he was present at the time.

JOSEPH GIBSON . I live at 17, Mansfield Road, Kentish Town—the prisoner and his mother used to live in the adjoining house to me—I left on 12th October—I saw her frequently and spoke to her—I noticed that she kept her money in a black silk handkerchief with a fringe to it—that is the one produced—she kept it tied up in a knot rolled up in her bosom.

THOMAS APPLEBY . I live at 46, Harmood Street, and am an assistant to Mrs. Austin, a greengrocer—I knew Mrs. Perryman as a customer between three and four months; she used to come and order coals—on Wednesday, 5th February, she came to the shop a little after 2 and ordered some coals; they were to be sent in shortly afterwards, but I never took them; she did not pay for them; she told me to bring change for 6d.—she seemed about the same as usual—our shop is about three minutes' walk from where she

lived—she had her bonnet on and was dressed in the ordinary way, and had on a very dark veil.

FRANK ROBERTS . I am assistant to Mr. Alworthy, a pawnbroker, of 5, Lismore Circus, Haverstock Hill—I knew Mrs. Perryman—on 22nd July last she pledged with me six tea spoons and some sugar tongs for 2s. 6d.—I kept one ticket and gave her the other—on 16th January the prisoner came to the shop; I saw him; he brought the ticket, and asked for 10s. more on the spoons—I did that, made out a fresh ticket for 12s. 6d., and gave it him; I kept the old one—on 29th January he came again, and Wanted all they were worth—I made out a fresh ticket for 17s., and gave him 1s. 6d.—this is the ticket (produced); it is my writing—on the Monday or Tuesday in the next week Mrs. Perryman called and spoke about the spoons, and gave me some directions—I had not been in the habit of seeing her very often; she appeared the same as usual on the Monday or Tuesday—after she spoke to me I wrote something on the ticket.

MR. POLAND proposed to ask what directions the deceased gave the witness as to the spoons, also to produce the ticket to show what memorandum the witness made upon it.

MR. WILLIAMS objected, the matter taking place in the absence of the prisoner.

MR. JUSTICE STEPHEN entertaining some doubt as to the admissibility of the evidence, it was not pressed.

Cross-examined. I had known the woman before as a customer pledging things.

JOHN HODSDEN MURRAY . I am the Coroner's officer—I visited this house after this occurrence—I found this letter in a drawer—the drawer was closed and on pulling the slide back I found the letter in a recess. (This was a tetter dated from California 7th October, 1878, purporting to come from a niece of the deceased, enclosing a draft for 5l.)

FREDERICK PENN . I am timekeeper at Betts's tinfoil manufactory, Birkbeck Road, Upper Holloway—I knew William Henry Perryman; he used to work at the factory as a caster—I did not know where he lived—he used to come to work daily—on Wednesday, 5th February, he was at work there up to 6 o'clock—he did not come to work after that—I believe he did come the next day, but I did not see him; he never did any more work after Wednesday night—I do not of my own knowledge know that he is dead.

Cross-examined. I believe he committed suicide.

WILLIAM GREEN (Policeman R 213). I am stationed at Bexley Heath—on 18th February I saw the body of a man lying under a tree; he had been cut down—he had committed suicide by hanging himself on a tree—I did not know him personally; he was afterwards identified as William Henry Perryman—there was an inquest; I believe Inspector Dodd saw the body.

CHARLES DODD (Re-examined). The body of the man at Bexley was that of the prisoner's brother, the same I have spoken of—he had been examined previously at the Coroner's inquest on the mother.

JAMES BARTER . I live at 26, Quadrant Grove, Kentish Town—a day or two after the death of Mrs. Perryman I went to the house, 39, Harmood Street—I saw an iron peg on the cupboard door in the first floor back room—I took hold of it and put the pressure of about 6lb. on it, and it snapped off close to the screws; it was so fearfully rotten it would not hold anything; a very slight effort did it.

CHARLES DODD (Re-examined). After the peg was broken I took off what remained of it; I unscrewed it from the door; this is it (produced)—there are two screws left in it now; I took the bottom one off.

ROBERT STEWART . I live at 9, Frederick Road, Peckham—I am officer of the Society for the Protection of Women—on 30th August, 1878,1 went to a house in Lismore Circus, where the prisoner resided with his mother—the prisoner came to the door—I asked him if Mrs. Perryman was in—he said no, she had gone out charing—about 10 minutes afterwards I saw her; she had two black eyes and her face was very much bruised—I spoke to her, and afterwards went and looked for the prisoner—I saw him outside the door; I told him who I was; I said, "What have you been knocking your mother about for?"—he said he was very sorry for what he had done—I said, "If your mother won't prosecute, the Society will"—he said, "I am very sorry, it won't occur again."

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am not guilty. What was done she done herself with her own hands."

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — DEATH .

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

396. BENJAMIN ALLUM (36) , Robbery on John Evans, and stealing from his person a scarf and a breast-pin, his property.

MR. CROOME Prosecuted.

JOHN EVANS . I keep a coffee-house at 174, St. George's Street—on 17th March I went into a urinal in Cannon Street Road, about 3 p.m., and the prisoner, who was there, gave me a hard blow by my right ear, and then snatched my necktie with my gold pin in it—I got hold of him, we. struggled, and he threw them away—I let him go and picked them np—I kept close behind him through one street into another street—he went into a public-house—I got a policeman and gave him in custody—I never lost sight of him—it was a very hard blow—I felt it for two hours.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. No one else was in the urinal.

HARRY LONG (Policeman H 27). On 17th. March about 3.15 I went with Evans into the King's Head, Wellclose Square; that is about 200 yards from the urinal—the prisoner was in the house, and Evans gave him into my charge for robbing him of his scarf and pin—he said, "All right, I will go with you quietly, but I have never seen the gentleman before"—Evans had a portion of his tie in his hand and a portion round his neck.

Prisoner's Defence. I went into the public-house, and was taken in charge; I had never seen the gentleman.

GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction at this Court in July, 1863, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

397. ALFRED HEMMINGS (21) and JOHN SHEA (22) , Stealing 22 boxes of cigars and 4l. 14s. in money of Costa Economides in the dwelling house of Evan Astley. Second Count for receiving the same.

MESSRS. MEAD and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY appeared for Hemmings, and MR. FRITH for Shea.

EVAN ASTLEY . I live with my wife and family at 24, Regent Street—Mr. Economides keeps a tobacconist's shop there—there is an entrance by the private door as well as by the shop, and a door also from the passage to the shop, which fastens with a bolt—on 3rd March I went

to bed about 11 o'clock, having seen the front door safe—I went down next morning a few minutes after 8, opened the street door, and secured ft open by the little latch—I did not then notice the door leading into the shop, but at 9.14 Mr. Boughton called my attention to it, and I noticed that it was broken open.

COSTA ECONOMIDES . I am a tobacconist of 24, Regent Street—when I left on 3rd March, at 9.30, the shop door leading to the street was property secured, and the door between the shop and the passage was fastened on the shop side with a bolt—the till was locked, and I left 4l. 10s. in it—I went to the shop next day and missed 25 boxes of cigars of 100 each and two large boxes of 500 each, but they were not quite full—I saw some cigars at the police-court; they were mine.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I do not sleep on the premises—my young man went there in the morning before me—the only mark of violence was inside the shop—there was no mark on the street door—the door leading to the passage was broken.

DAVID OUHHTON . I am in the prosecutor's employ—on 3rd March, about 9.30, when I left, I fastened the door leading into the passage; the lock catches, and then there is a bolt on the outside, but it could easily be pulled back—I left by the shop door into the street—I arrived at the shop at 9 o'clock next morning, and found the door leading into the shop had been opened by some blunt instrument, and about half a yard of the door-post lying on the floor—the door had not been touched—the shop Was in great confusion, and cigar-boxes were lying all over it—I missed about 22 boxes containing 100 cigars each and two boxes of 500 each—I identify these boxes of cigars (produced)—the till was wrenched open, and about 4l. 14s. taken—I do not know either of the prisoners.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The only door broken was the inner door in the passage—the remains of a tallow candle were on the mantelpiece—they would have to use a candle as the shutters were shut.

MATTHEW FOX (Police Inspector M). On 4th March I watched No. 23, Elliott Road, St. George's Road, Borough, from 10 a.m. till 9.30 p.m.—I was at the end of the street, and March and Harvey were in a house opposite No. 23—I saw the two prisoners at 9.30 p.m. carrying this large box, one holding each handle—they went into Si George's Road, but before that I had seen them calling a cab from the rank opposite Elliott's Row—I did not see where they picked the box up—they put it on the roof of the cab with the cabman's assistance, told him to drive to Wigmore Street, opened the door, and were about to get in—the two other officers pushed them in, and I stopped at the other window—they were both smoking cigars—I asked them what the box contained—they both said, "I don't know"—I told the cabman to drive to Southwark Station, and again asked each of them what it contained—they each said, "I do not know"—I found it contained 22 boxes of cigars—Hemmings said that his name was Alfred Hemmings, he refused his address and occupation, but said that he attended races—Shea gave his address Monmouth Court, Seven Dials—I asked his occupation—he said that he attended billiard rooms—Hemmings gave his father's address next morning, 65, St. Martin's Lane—I went there and found his brother James; I did not see his father.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The father is respectable; I don't know whether he is a vestryman—the prosecutor's front door was not damaged—

it has a chain and lock—they neither broke in nor out by that door—I do not know whether Shea carried the box out on his shoulder; he was 200 yards from where I stood, and there is a bend in the street; I could not see the house.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. The box was not covered or concealed, but there is nothing remarkable about it—Shea did not say that the box had been given to him to take care of for a few hours; he was so confounded he could not speak—I heard him call a cab—there was not the least concealment.

DAVID OUGHTON (Re-examined). I went in in the morning by the door leading from the street, and then through the door which had been tampered with—the shop door is covered with an iron shutter—I left it fastened, and left by the other door, and next morning I found it as I had left it.

GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant M). On 4th March, at 10 a.m., I went with Inspector Fox to watch 23, Elliott Row from a house at the end—the first thing we saw was, about 6.20 at dusk the two prisoners went inwhile they were there we shifted into a house opposite, and I saw them come out together about 7 and go towards St. George's Road—they came back about 9 o'clock, went in again, and came out about 9.30, Shea carrying this large box on his shoulder, and Hemmings by his side—they stopped in St. George's Road and placed the box on the pavement; Hemmings stood by it while Shea went towards the cab stand—Shea returned to Hemmings, and they took the box up and took it to a cab, put it on the cab, and Hemmings was getting in—we pushed them in and got in too—I heard Fox say, "What does the box contain?"—they both said that they did not know—we took them to the station, and then went to 23, Elliott Row to the second floor front room, where a woman gave me these two large boxes of cigars (produced).

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The house we watched was 23, Pleasant Place, at the end of Elliott Row—I sat and looked across—no vehicles passed; it is a blind street—there is a road—Elliott Row is 8 or 9 feet wide, and there are posts across—my eyes were 50 yards from the house—there were lamps between me and the house; I will not say whether they were lit before or after 6.30—the woman who gave me the boxes said that she was Shea's sister—I saw everybody who went in and out—I am positive that I saw Hemmings go in at 6.20—it is not the fact that he stood at the door till Shea brought the box out; no one stood at the door—I am sure he went into the house—the box was corded.

JAMES WALSH (Detective M). I was watching with Harvey, and at 6.20 p.m. saw the two prisoners go into 23, Elliott Row together—they came out again at 6.50—I saw them again at 9 o'clock going in again together, and saw them come out about 9.20—I followed them to the top of the street—Shea was carrying a box.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I was in the same room with Fox and Harvey—we relieved one another at the window, but we never went out at the front door—we had very little refreshment; I tasted no beer.

JAMES BENNETT (Police Inspector C). I examined the door leading from the passage to the shop, it was broken from the passage side.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The door that was broken was at the bottom of the stairs; it led from the passage to the shop—neither of the external doors were tamperod with.

Witnesses for Hemmings.

JANE HEMMINGS . I married Hemmings' brother James—their father

lives at 65, St. Martin's Lane, and is a vestryman of Si Martin's-in—the—Fields—on Monday, 3rd March, Hemmings was at his father's from 8.30 to 10.30, and then he went out alone.

Cross-examined. He was not living with his father at that time—he had left home about 12 months—his father is not here—he makes him an allow* ance—I do not know Shea, nor have I heard Hemmings speak of him.

Re-examined. His father has not been asked for till this moment.

LOUISA WATKINS . I am single, and have an engagement at Canterbury Hall—Henimings's wife was also engaged there, but has left—she was playing there on 3rd March, and we left at the same time, 11.50 p.m., and I saw Hemmings standing outside speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Hodges—I saw him till 12.15.

MARGARET ELEANOR HODGES . My husband's name is Alfred—I know Hemmings and his wife—they spoke to me and my husband outside Canterbury Hall on Monday, 3rd March, at 11.45—they were in my presence a few minutes.

ELLEN CANTWELL . My husband's name is John—we live at 23, Elliott Road, St. George's Road, and occupy the second floor—Shea is my brother—I remember his being taken in custody on Tuesday evening, 4th March—Hemmings was not at my place that day on my oath—a different man entered the house with my brother, about 6.30—he was quite different in his dress—Hemmings did not come up to my room that day.

Examined by MR. FRITH. My brother brought a gentleman with him in a Hansom's cab, between 9.30 and 10 a.m.—he said, I think, that it was Mr. Woodford—he said that in the gentleman's presence, and he did not deny it—when the cab came a sack tied at the mouth was brought upstairs—I do not know what was in it—the two men came again after 6 p.m., and* the gentleman asked me to lend him a box, and I consented, provided I had it back next day—the things in the sack" were put into my box, and the gentleman asked my brother to meet him at Waterloo railway station, and wished him good evening, and gave my children some coppers—my brother took the box away at 9 o'clock.

Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. I have two rooms—Woodford did not assist to carry the box out—the cigars were put into the back room where the box was kept—I spoke to Harvey and gave him two boxes of cigars which were left behind in the bedroom, I suppose they could not be got into the box—they said nothing about leaving them—I do not think my brother even knew it—I did not tell Harvey that I asked these two men whether the cigars were stolen property—I said that the man who brought them said that he bought them at a sale—I did not say they said so—throughout it all I did, not know that they were cigars, I did not go into the room where the sack was, nor did I ask what they were, I had no suspicions—I saw the box carried down, and opened the street door—I swear that only one man went out.

Re-examined. Hemmings did not come in at all—he had not been there for a fortnight or three weeks previous—the cord was put round the box at 6 p.m.—Woodford asked me if I had a kef for it—I could not find it, and he asked me if I had some cord, and I got some from the washhand-stand and he corded it—Woodford is not like Hemmings, quite different, he had a short hat and a black moustache—he could not be mistaken for him—I understand that Woodford is a commissioner at a sale-room.

ANN KIREBY . I am the wife of Robert Kirkby, an upholsterer, of 23, Elliott Road; we let it out in lodgings, and occupy the ground floor—on Tuesday evening, 4th March, about 6.20, somebody knocked; I opened the door and saw John Shea and a strange gentleman—I swear it was not Hemmings—I admitted them, but did not see them go out—I was indoors but did not notice Shea go out at 9 o'clock with the box—I did not see Hemmings that day.

Cross-examined. I have seen him there visiting Mrs. Cantwell—the strange gentleman was rather stout and very showy, like a racing man—I think he had a moustache, but I did not take notice—I saw a cab come between 9 and 10 am., but did not see who got out of it, nor did I hear any voice which I recognised—I did not notice that they were carrying anything—I was at my front window ground floor—I did not go into Mrs. Cantwell's room that day—I very seldom, do.

WILLIAM JOHN GRIMES . I am a tobacconist of 187, Westminster Bridge Road; on a Tuesday evening in March, about 6.30, Hemmings bought a shilling box of cigarettes, which I let him have for 3d. less—it was either March 3rd or 5th.

Cross-examined. I have no reason for saying that it was Tuesday, it might have been Monday, but I should give Tuesday the preference, because I saw him playing at billiards on the Monday, the night before, at Gatti's.

Re-examined. I know it was not the next night because he was in custody, it was a different night to the night of his being at Gatti's.

ROBERT HEMMINGS . I assist my father, a tailor, of 65, St. Martin's Lane—the cutting room is behind the shop—Hemmings is my brother—he came there about 7.30 on the Tuesday night he was taken in custody—he came up into the kitchen, which is on the first floor back, and remained till 8.30—I was with him—I remember an elder brother of mine attending a lodge meeting on a Tuesday, and this was on a Tuesday.

Cross-examined. I say this was on Tuesday, because my brother went to the lodge at Woolwich—I heard on the Wednesday night of my brother being taken on the Tuesday night—I will swear it was not Monday that he was at my father's house.

HEMMINGS— NOT GUILTY .

SHEA— GUILTY on the second count . He was further charged with a previous conviction at Clerkenwell in February, 1876, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

398. ALFRED HEMMINGS was again indicted for stealing 29l. of Elizabeth Jane Pauley, in her dwelling-house.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN Defended.

ELIZABETH JANE PAULEY . I am a dressmaker, of 10, Blenheim Street Bond Street—I occupy the house and let the ground floor—my bedroom is the first-floor back, and the front is used for business—on 4th February, about 2 o'clock, I had a customer in the front room, and went to my bed-room for a pen—the room was then the same as usual—I shut the door and went into the front room, and waited while my customer wrote a letter—I heard my bedroom door-handle move, and soon afterwards came out with the customer on to the landing, and saw my bedroom door open, and the prisoner standing at the foot of my bed—I stood at the bedroom door and said "What are you doing here"—he had a little book in his hand, and said "I suppose I have made a mistake and come into the wrong room; you are

Miss Pauley?"—I said "Yes; what are you doing here state your business"—I repeated that once or twice—he was facing me all that time—Jib did not answer, and I said "Go downstairs to the front door and ring, and be answered in a proper manner; how dare you take the liberty of coming tip here?"—he went down a few steps and passed close to me, and then turned round and in the most impudent manner said) "You have a servant; could not she have shown me to your bedroom?"—my servant was upstrairs at that time—the customer exclaimed "My God, Miss Pauley, what has that man been doing in your bedroom?"—I went into my bedroom and missed my watch and 29l. in gold, which was wrapped up in a piece of soft brown paper in a small drawer in a chest of drawers, which I had seen safe about 1.3, when I took a half-sovereign from it—the prisoner was still on the stains just turning from the door, and as I got out I saw him running very fast up the street to Bond Street—I followed—he looked over his shoulder, turned into Bond Street, got through the carriages and into Union Street, looking twice over his shoulder—he could see me—I did not go into Union Street—the last I saw of him he was turning into Oxford Street—I described him to the police the same afternoon—I afterwards read a case in the papers, and thought the description given answered to the prisoner, and on 12th March I went to Marlborough Street Police-court, and saw the prisoner come into court with another man—I knew him in a moment as the man who was in my bedroom—that was before he went into the dock—I told Inspector Fox, who was in court, and afterwards gave my evidence—there are two windows in my bedroom, and there is a very good light indeed—I have no doubt that the prisoner is the man.,

Cross-examined. About two minutes elapsed from the time I saw the man in my bedroom to the time he began to run outside the door—I was not very excited at the time, but I was afterwards—I was puzzled at seeing him at the foot of my bed, but not so nervous as I am to day—he only stood still long enough to exchange the few words I have stated.

MATTHEW FOX (Police Inspector M). I was at Marlborough Street Police-court on 12th March, when the prisoner was in custody on another charge—I saw Miss Pauley taken ill in Court—I went to ask her what was the matter, and she gave me certain information.

GUILTY .†— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

399. SAMUEL EDWARD JORDAN (39) and THOMAS FORD (19) , Feloniously forging and uttering a request for the delivery of goods, with intent to defraud.

MR. GOODMAN Prosecuted.

EDMUND SIMKINS . I am a butcher, of Ball's Pond Road—on 28th February I bought four quarters of beef from Kilsby and Son, salesmen in the market—the value was 18l. 18s. 3d.—I arranged that it should be fetched in the afternoon—this order (produced) was not written by me or by my authority—I do not know the prisoners—when I sent for the meat I foundit had been taken away.

Cross-examined by Jordan. My name is Simkins, and the name on this paper is Simpkins—it is the practice in the market when you buy meat always to have a weight note with it.

THOMAS CURNICK . I am in the employ of Kilsby and Son, salesmen, of the Metropolitan Market—Mr. Simkins purchased 4 quarters of beef of us in

the early morning, and later in the day a porter came and made a representation to me, but I did not part with the beef as he did not know the right name—I did not ask for a written order.

HENRY EVERETT . I am a carman, and have been employed at the Metropolitan Meat Market—the prisoners came to me on 28th February between 7 and 8 a.m.—I knew them by sight working in the market—they asked me for 4 quarters of meat for one of their little masters; I cannot recollect the name, but he said he lived in Ball's Pond Road—I agreed to take the meat; it was to be obtained from Kilsby's—I first sent Richardson, who came back without the meat, but said nothing in the prisoners' presence about what would be required—the prisoners knew that I could not get it without a written order, and Ford got a sheet of paper next door at the Little Bell—I cannot tell whether this is the sheet, but it was similar to this—I cannot read—I stood inside the public-house door and saw Jordan writing—Ford then handed it to me and said, "Give that to the porter outside and he will fetch them," and I did so—Jordan was in the bar at that time—they took the paper and returned without it, but with the beef—it was put into my van, and by Jordan's instructions I drove to the Angel—they were to meet me up John Street, which is on the road to the Angel, but they met me a little farther on at Liverpool Road—I did not go to Ball's Pond Road because he wanted his beef to go to another place—I took it to Hill's, 69, Bingfield Street, Caledonian Road—Ford went in to deliver the beef, and I just went into the shop—I do not know how much it was sold for—having two quarters left we proceeded to Mr. Gray's shop in the Roman Road, which is a little place, half of a bootmaker's shop; we left the other two quarters there—I do not know what they fetched—Ford gave me a sovereign, and Jordan said, "Give him another 5s.," and I got it—I did not charge anything—the ordinary charge for the carriage of four quarters of beef would be 3s.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I was in the market on Saturday, 1st March, the day after the beef is said to have been stolen—I cannot say whether you were there.

Cross-examined by Ford. You paid me for the beef—I did not ask you. if you. would go and fetch four quarters of beef from Kelly's in the name of Simkins; that is not true—you told me to send a man for it, and said that you wanted it for one of your little masters—you told me you could not fetch it because you were not a licensed porter—I said half an hour afterwards, "Tommy, I have got the beef"—I did not say, "Do you know where to sell it?" nor did you say, "I do not"—I did not say, "Come along with me; it will be a shilling in your way"—you said that you would walk up John Street in front of me—I did not send you into a tobacco shop and tell you to say that you had four quarters of beef to sell, nor did I see you go in—I do not know the man—I did not send you into two or three more shops in Barnsbury Road—I did not say, "Don't say it is mine; say it has come from the market"—I delivered it to you, and you carried it into the shop—I said, "If the man buys the beef I will come over, you beckon me over," and I got up in the van and gave it out to you—I did not say that I did not want Mr. Hill to see me—I did not give you a paper in the public-house to take with the meat—you did not give me nine sovereigns, nor did I say, "I must apply to Monkey Mars the detective, and if I do we shall all get lagged"—I did not receive 35s. only 25s.—I did not say, "Give me 5*. and some grub for the horse."

By the COURT. I cannot read writing, but I found that Richardson could not get the beef because the right name was not given—I knew that the right name was Simkins—I knew that a person called Hill or a person called Gray was not Simkins—I am not a licensed porter, I am a carman.

THOMAS EDWARD BAKER , Junior. I helped my father to take the meat from Messrs. Kilsby's to Everett's van—Everett gave me this order to enable me to get the meat; that is the order upon which it was delivered.

Cross-examined by Ford. I saw you running by the road, and I saw you before you gave the note—I saw you with Everett after the beef was on the Tan, not before.

THOMAS EDWARD BAKER . My son brought me this order, and we both took the meat from Mr. Kilsby's to the van—Curnick delivered it to me—I saw Ford run across the road.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I did not visit Everett's place on Friday evening—my son went with Mr. Marshall, I don't know where he went—he picked Everett out on the Saturday as the man who gave the order—I did not see you with Everett.

JOSEPH HENRY MARSHALL (Chief Constable, Meat Market). I received this pencil memorandum from George Hill—it is a receipt for 9l.—I went in consequence of what I heard from Everett—I have looked at this other paper, they both appear to be in the same writing—from Hill's I went to Gray's shop, and from what I heard I apprehended Jordan—he is a porter in the Meat Market—Ford was a licensed porter, but forfeited his licence in consequence of being convicted of felony—I told Jordan I wanted to know something from him about the four quarters of beef from Kilsby's—he said, "I shall answer you nothing, for if I do I know you will use it against me"—I took him in Nile Street, Hoxton, about 8 p.m. on Thursday, 6th March.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I have known you several years—I never heard anything against you—I called on Everett on 1st March, he said that he knew nothing about the beef.

GEORGE HILL . I am a butcher of 69, Bingfield Street, Caledonian Road—on 28th February two quarters of beef were delivered at my shop—I gave the receipt to Mr. Marshall—Ford gave it to me—I did not see him write it—I asked him whether he had brought a paper with it, and he produced this from his pocket—I did not see Jordan at my shop.

By the COURT. I knew Ford as a porter, but did not know his name—I did not look at the document at the time, I was busy and put it into my pocket—I took the beef without any certificate, as he represented that it had been sent from the market by a person I deal with—I did not expect the two quarters of beef, but I thought they might come—I had made a bid in the morning for some beef of a man named Sketchley, who would not take my price, and when these two quarters were sent up to me, I thought they had come from the man I had bid of in the morning—the prisoner's name is not Sketchley, but I did not examine the paper.

WILLIAM GRAY . I am a butcher—on 28th February Jordan came into my shop, and Everett was at the van—Jordan offered me the beef, and I bought it for 5l.—I did not weigh it, it was a job lot—he said that he had bought it cheap.

Jordan, in his defence, produced a certificate from his doctor stating that he was suffering from pleurisy, which was the reason of his not being in the

market. He charged Everett with being the thief, and stated that he had not received a farthing of the money. He produced his licence unmarked, thawing that there was nothing against him in the market. He denied writing the order or saying anything to Gray about payment.

Ford's Defence. I sold the beef for Everett—I am not guilty of writing any orders, for I cannot write. He told me I should get a shilling by it, and he led me into it.

JORDAN— GUILTY ,— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. FORD— GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. The Jury considered the conduct of Everett, Hill, and Gray to be highly reprehensible. (Everett had been charged before the Magistrate, but discharged.)

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 2nd, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

400. FREDERICK NEALE (19) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, and FRANCIS ALLEN (22) to stealing and uttering a post-office order for 2l., the property of Charles Butcher, NEALE having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell in June, 1877. Allen received a good character. NEALE*— Two Years' Imprisonment . ALLEN— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

401. WALTER ALLEN (16) , Unlawfully wounding Joseph Ray.

MR. CROOME Prosecuted.

FREDERICK MARTIN . I am an umbrella maker, of 5, Sandy's Street, Bishopsgate—the prisoner was in my employ about a fortnight up to Saturday, 1st March—Ray is also in my employ—at 9 o'clock on that morning I discharged him and paid him at twelve 5s. 0 1/2., which was what he had earned—he turned round and said, "You can keep your blooming work and stick it up"—I said, "Go downstairs"—Ray said, "Why don't you go down civil V and they began quarrelling outside on the landing—the prisoner did not go outside the shop, but stood inside with the flap of the door in his hand—the door comes open and has a flap which comes over on to a piece of wood—I was at my work—hearing a scuffle on the landing, I went out and saw them fighting with their fists—I closed the door and shut them both outside—when I went out to part them the prisoner rushed at me, and we knocked against the partition, which broke down, and we both fell inside the room—the prisoner then got up, and I saw him rush at Ray on the landing, saying, "Take that," and pull a knife out of Ray's left shoulder and drop it—I picked it up at once and gave it to the young woman below—it' was just at the back of the left shoulder—the blood poured out on the ground—I took Ray to the doctor's—I did not see the knife in his hand till he dropped it—it was a dagger knife—this is it (produced)—it is not used in our trade—I had never seen it before.

JOSEPH RAY . I work for Mr. Martin—I was at his place on Saturday, 8th March, about 12 o'clock, and saw him pay the prisoner his wages—when he got outside the door he said "Keep your blooming work and stick it up"—Mr. Martin asked him to leave the place, but he sauced him—I asked him to go downstairs and leave the place quietly, and said, "If you don't go I'll put you down"—he then turned round and struck me on my mouth and said, "I'm ready for you"—I struck him back on the nose—I am certain he struck me first—we then scuffled, and both fell together—I got

up and he ran away from me and rushed at Mr. Martin, and they fell together, knocking down the partition—I was standing about two yards away when he got up, rushed at me, and struck me with this knife in my shoulder, saying, "Take that"—he then pulled out the knife and dropped it on the ground—Mr. Martin took me to a doctor at once—my wound was dressed, and I then went to the London Hospital the same day and remained there a week as an in-patient, and have been three times since as an out-patient—I had never seen the knife before.

THOMAS FOULCHER (City Policeman 950). On Saturday, 8th. March, I was called to Sandy's Street, to Mr. Martin's, about 12.30, and saw the prisoner sitting on the top of the stairs—Mrs. Martin said in his presence, "This young man has stabbed another young man in the shoulder, and my husband has taken him to the doctor's"—he made no reply—Mrs. Martin gave me this knife—I saw fresh blood on the blade—I told the prisoner I should take him in custody—he replied "All right, I'm ready"—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You had blood on your face—I did not see if you had a black eye.

JAMBS RICHARDSON CLARK . I am one of the house surgeons at the London Hospital—on Saturday evening, 8th March, Kay was brought there, and I found an incised wound at the back of his shoulder, clean cut, apparently done with a dagger-like instrument—it was deeper than it was broad, and such as this knife might have made—a fair amount of force must have been used—it might have been deeper—it was about 11/2 inches deep—it was not dangerous from its position—he was under my care as an in-patient a little more than a week—I have not seen him since—as an out-patient he went under another surgeon.

Witness for the Defence,

CATHERINE DONOHOUGHE . I am single—I was on the landing on the same floor, the third floor, on the 8th March, between twelve and one—I was in my own room, and I heard the words, "Will you go down stairs? or if you don't I'll throw you down"—soon after I heard a noise, and on opening the door I found prisoner and Martin lying on the ground and the partition down—they got up and put him outside Mr. Martin's door on to the landing, and the prisoner was bleeding from the nose—Ray followed him out and said, "Will you go downstairs or I'll throw you down?"—that was the second time that expression was used—the prisoner answered, "Not for you"—Ray caught hold of him round the waist to throw him down—during the time Martin went in and shut the door and left them on the landing—they both fell—when they got up the prisoner went over to Ray and struck him in the arm—I did not see what with, but I saw the knife on the ground and blood on it—Ray said, "I am stabbed," and Martin came out, picked up the knife, gave it to his wife, and took Ray to the doctor—the prisoner then sat on our landing, and said, "I can't help it, they have been both beating me cruelly"—some one went for a constable, and he was taken in custody—I did not see Ray strike the prisoner first, because I was in my own room and he was in the workshop—he struck the prisoner on the landing in the face—I did not see the commencement of it.

Cross-examined. When Allen came out he was bleeding from the nose—I saw Allen strike Ray in the arm.

Prisoner's Defence. "I am very sorry. They were both knocking me about so very cruelly I could not help it."

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth and the considerable provocation .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

402. WILLIAM alias HENRY SQUIRES (30) , Stealing 12 dozen skins, the goods of Robert Goat.

MR. ST. AUBIN Prosecuted.

ROBERT GOAT . I am a furrier, of New Kent Road—on the 24th December at 11.30 I was in Leadenhall Market—the prisoner had frequently carried things for me to my place—on this occasion I gave him 12 dozen rabbit and hare skins, value 21., to carry home for me—I accompanied him as far as Adelaide Place, London Bridge, where I left him for two or three minutes, and on my return he was gone—I did not go far—I gave information to the police—I did not see him again or the skins up to the time of his apprehension—he knew where I lived—when I left him I said, "Wait there"—he said, "All right."

JOHN DAVIDSON (City Policeman 849). At 7.30 on Monday, March 3rd, from information received, I apprehended the prisoner in Queen Victoria Street, and charged him with stealing the skins—he said, "I did not steal them; I was knocked down and robbed of them."

ROBERT GOAT (Re-examined). I do not know why he was not arrested till March; I gave information a week after the robbery—I did not see the prisoner during that time and did not know where he was—I waited a week to see if he turned up, before giving the information—I had not paid him.

GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony in April, 1877, at Newington, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

403. EDWARD WALSH (22) and RICHARD HENRY POND (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James Hughes, and stealing therein 6lb. of meat, his property.

WALSH PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. ST. AUBIN Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

JAMES HENRY HUGHES . I am a butcher, of 338, Portobello Road, Notting Hill—on the night of 16th February I closed my house and went to bed about 10.30—about 12.30 I was called up by the police, and I found the shop shutters open and some suet and beef gone—the meat was worth 3s.—I afterwards identified it—the meat produced at the police-court was the same—it had a ticket on it—the meat was the fat ends of breasts of mutton.

EDWARD HARLOW (Policeman X 266). From information received I went, to the prosecutor's shop on the night of the 16th of February, and found the shutters rolled up and some meat lying on the pavement—I awoke Mr. Hughes, and then went to Swansbrook Road and saw Walsh about 4 yards away carrying a bundle which contained meat—in consequence of what he said I went to Pond's house, 46, Goldburn Road, and found him in bed—I said, "Get up, I want you for being concerned in stealing meat from Mr. Hughes's shop"—he said nothing—on the way to the station he said, "I know nothing about it; I was with him in the Eagle public-house last night, I know no more"—I took him to the station—I brought Walsh out of the cell and Walsh said, "That is the man"—the prisoner said nothing.

Cross-examined. When I charged Pond he said he knew nothing about it—I will not be certain that he said nothing at all; on the way to the

station he said, "I was in the Eagle public-house last night with him; I know no more"—I had previously had a conversation with Walsh, and when I brought Pond to the station I asked him whether Pond was the man; he said "Yes"—Pond said nothing.

WILLIAM DAVID FORDHAM . I am a letter carrier—I was in the Portobello Road on this Sunday night, outside Mr. Hughes's shop, and saw two men there—I identified Pond at the police-court, and am sure he is one of them—he had his body half way in the butcher's shop—they are patent shutters, and were partly open—the other man when he saw me said, "Look out! you d—fool, here comes the postman, we shall get nicked"—I ran round to Ladbroke Grove Road to give the information to Harlow—I am quite sure Pond is the man who had his body half way in the shop.

Cross-examined. I gave my evidence on the remand—I could see Pond's face from the light of the lamp when he came out from the window and ran past me—when the other man made the observation he pulled himself out and ran away.

POND received a good character.—

NOT GUILTY .

WALSH— Twelve Month' Imprisonment.

404. EDWARD WALSH and RICHARD HENRY POND were again indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Joseph Henry Boeg and stealing two pints of perriwinkles, upon which no evidence was offered.

NOT GUILTY .

405. GEORGE JAMES BISHOP (32), Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement on a request for the payment of 10l. 10s., with intent to defraud.

MR. OLIVER SMITH Prosecuted; MR. RAVEN Defended.

JAMES CHARLES WELLS . I am a tailor at 46, New Bond Street—the prisoner was till recently my clerk and kept my cash book and ledger—I produce them—when he received money it was his duty to enter it immediately in the cash book and then post it into the ledger, and hand the money over to me at once—I have a customer named Penton, of Faversham—I cannot remember sending that particular account, but it was an account of 10 guineas and would go out with the midsummer accounts—this is the original account—the receipt is in the prisoners' writing—I was at Scarborough at the end of August and in Lincolnshire for two or three days afterwards—I was not in London on the 29th or 30th—Mr. Wood opened business letters in my absence—I have never received this cheque (produced)—it is drawn in my favour by Mr. Penton, and endorsed in my name by the prisoner—I recognise his writing; it was not done with my authority—the prisoner had no general or special authority to sign cheques for me—I have never received the amount of the cheque—the total of my cash book for June is 5,039l. 6s. 11d., when I balanced the book on the 29th of June—that covered the 6 months—I make it come to 10 guineas more now—the pencil figures are by the accountant—the two items of 10l. 10*. and 9l. to to the credit of Mr. Penton were not there when I cast it up on 29th June—I recognise those figures as the prisoner's—I find in my ledger an entry on 29th June 30s. to Mr. Penton's credit—the reference is 29th June opposite the 10l. 10s.—I find entered in the ledger "By Cash 9l." and a reference "folio 12 cash book"—in another ledger 1l. 10*. is entered, with a similar reference to the cash book—the cheque is receivable, "29th August, 1878,

London and County Bank, Sittingbourne Branch. Pay Mr. J. C. Well or order 10l. 10s. J. W. Penton"—"J. W. Penton" is crossed out and it is endorsed "J. C. Wells."

Cross-examined. I am in a large way of business—I have no clerk but the prisoner, who assists me—no one else has anything to do with the books but the prisoner and myself—Wood is trimmer and general salesman—he makes entries in the books and has received cash—this cheque was from a customer in the country—I was out of town when it was received—I am aware of the circumstances of its receipt, and that Wightwick, a linendraper, a neighbour of mine, received it from the prisoner—he cashed it over his counter—he is frequently in my shop—I know him well—the endorsement is "J. C. Wells" and "G. J. B." the prisoner's initials—it was cashed by Mr. Wightwick, and handed by him into the bank with the prisoner's initials upon it—the forgery I complain of is that my name is signed by the prisoner with his initials upon it—customers pay small accounts over the counter, and we often find it necessary to give them cash in change for cheques—if a cheque is payable to bearer and he was short of cash, the assistant would go across to my neighbour and ask him for change—that is the usual practice if payable to bearer, but not ii payable to order—in that case Mr. Wood would go across and borrow money and give an I O U—the prisoner was to receive moneys if I was not there; if he was out Mr. Wood would do so—the prisoner had no authority to get the cheques cashed ft short of money, except when payable to bearer—if short of cash Mr. Wightwick would oblige us, and he cashed this cheque—an accountant has been through the cash book this Christmas—I balance the cash book every day—I go through it every night—I made the total come to 5,039l., on the 29th June—I was in London then—the cheque is 29th August, two months later—it comes in that half year, because it has been put in since—it should not have been entered in that half year, it should have been entered on 29th August—I have had several other dealings with Mr. Penton, and he has paid me several pounds.

By the Jury. The endorsement at the back of the cheque is nothing like my writing—I could tell at once it was the prisoner's writing, and the initials are his—Mr. Wightwick knows my signature well—that receipt was signed by the prisoner with his initials the same as the cheque.

Re-examined. If I was not in nor the prisoner either, it was Wood's duty to enter the cash and hand me the money or the cheque when I came in—Mr. Wood opened the letters in my absence—cheques payable to order were all paid into the bank—if we had no cash Wood would go to Mr. Wightwick and give him his I O U—a cheque payable to order would not be taken to Mr. Wightwick—the prisoner had no authority to sign cheques payable to my order—Wood had authority to do so when I was in the country—cheques to order would be kept till I came back—we were never away both together—the prisoner was not allowed to open letters—he was not prohibited from doing so—he has taken cheques over to Mr. Wightwick payable to order, when I have put my name on the back—if a customer comes in with a cheque and wants the difference out of it, my bank is some distance, and I sign my name on the back and send over to Mr. Wightwick for the cash.

WILLIAM WIGHTWICK . I am a linendraper at 130, New Bond Street, opposite Mr. Wells's—I remember the cheque for 10l. being brought over by

the prisoner—I received it On the 2nd September, and paid it to my banters on the 3rd—this is the cheque.

Cross-examined. I am a neighbour of Mr. Wells and intimate with him—I change cheques for him—the prisoner brought this cheque, and I desired my cashier to cash it—I did not see him write his initials on it—a clerk said "May I change this Cheque?" and I said "Yes" Without looking at it, knowing it came from Mr. Wells—I have done that very often—. before the Magistrates I said "I have frequently paid cheques for the prisoner that were payable to Mr. Wells"—I did not notice that it was payable to bearer or order—my clerk's duty would be to do that.

Re-examined. I never recollect any particular transaction—when they brought cheques over I did not look whether they were endorsed or not—the clerk Would look, and if they were not endorsed 1 should them back to be endorsed—I do not know that I have done so.

WALTER WESTON GOSS . I am cashier at the City Bank, Bond Street branch—I remember receiving this cheque from Mr. Wightwick on the 4th September for 10l. 10s. payable at the London and County Bank, Sittingbourne—it passed through my hands on that date—we received the amount about the 6th—it goes through the Clearing House—I credited Mr. Wightwick with it.

Cross-examined. It was passed through his account in the ordinary Way—I cannot say if we have cashed the same sort of cheques before—we have bo clerk called Carroll.

JAMES WILLIAM PENTON . I am a brewer for Messrs. Biggs, of Faversham—I gent this cheque for 10l. 10s. and received back this receipt—(he cheque was eventually paid by my bankers, and 1 Was debited With the amount.

JOHN CHARLES WOOD . 1 am Mr. Wells's foreman—I Was at the shop at the end of August when Mr. Wells was away—the prisoner was there I could not swear 1 ever received this cheque—I did not cash it.

NOT GUILTY .

406. GEORGE JAMES BISHOP was again indicted for embezzling 1l. 3s., 4l. 17s. 6d., and 5l., of John Charles Wells, his master.

GEORGE KIRBY . I am a warehouseman at 20, Cannon Street, and a customer of Mr. Wells—I paid the prisoner 4l. 17s. 6d. on the 9th December for Mr. Wells—that is the receipt he gave me.

Cross-examined. I Went into the shop and handed the money to him—he took it round and signed it and brought me the receipt—I have never paid an account to Mr. Wells before—I only saw the prisoner, but could not say whether he was the only person in the shop.

CHARLES KINGSTON . I am a clerk in the Treasury, residing at Campden Hill Road—I called at Mr. Wells's on 23rd December and paid a 51. note to Mr. Wood—I took no receipt.

Cross-examined. I have paid accounts to Mr. Wells before in the same way, and that will account for my taking no receipt.

JOHN CHARLES WOOD . I have been Mr. Wells's foreman sixteen years—I remember receiving a 5l. note on 23rd December from the last witness—I gave it to the prisoner to give to Mr. Wells—the customer himself put his name upon the back—I remember also receiving 17. 2a. from Mr. Holme on

11th October in payment of an account—this is the receipt I gave him—the prisoner was there, and I paid the money to him.

Cross-examined. I am the foreman in the shop and look after the tailoring department—lam the managerin Mr. Wells's absence and second in authority to him—I have nothing to do with the prisoner, he was not under me in the office—if he told me to do anything I would not do it—supposing I told him to do a thing he would do it—he has been in Mr. Wells's employ about five years I believe, up till about throe weeks ago—this receipt for 4l. 17s. 6d. is from Mr. Gibbs—I did not see Mr. Kirby—I know him by his giving the order—I should see him on taking his measure and probably when he tried it on—I could not swear I saw him, except on that one occasion in the shop—the date of the order is January 18th—I cannot remember for a certainty whether ho came to give the order—I knew him before 9th December—I have no recollection of him prior to an order on 18th January, 1878—I did not see him come to the shop to pay this account—this is the receipt—if I had been in the shop and was busy when he came to pay the account, I should pass him forward to the prisoner, and the bill would be receipted as it is receipted—if I had nothing else to do I should take the money myself—I often gave bills over to the prisoner and told him to put a receipt stamp upon it—if a customer presented his account to me, I might give him a receipt myself or I might not—the prisoner would be very foolish to receipt and initial bills and hand them back to the customer without receiving the money from me—I could not swear it never occurred, I have no recolleotion of such a thing happening, it would be very unusual—such a thing might occur in 16 years—it would very seldom happen—I cannot swear it never did happen—I should consider it very unusual for one clerk to take the money and hand the bill to the other to give the receipt—I am not supposed to receive the money—if I did so it was my business to hand it to the prisoner, and for him to hand it to the principal—in this case Mr. Kirby gave the money to the prisoner himself—many of these entries in the cash book are in my writing—there are no entries of mine in the ledger—I find that Mr. Kirby is credited with this 4l. 17s. 6d. in the ledger, but not in the cash book—the ledger is made up from the cash book—I said before the Magistrate, "I have made entries in the cash book. I should do so if the prisoner was not there and hand the money to Mr. Wells"—I cannot give any idea of the amount—in this entry in the ledger "December 9th, 1878; by cash 4l. 17s. 6d." the reference is to page 40, cash book—I may have said, "I may have paid over to Mr. Wells between 30 and 50 sums during the last 12 months"—I should hand them over at once—if the prisoner received sums in the same way it would be his business to hand them over to Mr. Wells.

Re-examined. I have been in the prosecutor's service 16 years—I am clear that I did not see Mr. Kirby on the 9th December—judging from what I know of the prisoner, I should say I never told him to receipt a bill without handing him the money.

JOHN CHARLES WELLS . This receipt for 4l. 17s. 6d. is in the prisoner's writing—he has never accounted to me or paid me that money—there is an entry in the ledger, but not in the cash book—there is a reference to the cash book, page 40, but 1 find no such entry there.

Cross-examined. I balanced the cash book every night—if I had not referred to the cash book since this money was missed, I could not say that I

had not received it—I said at the police-court, "I say the prisoner has not accounted to me for the 4l. 17s. 6d., because it is not entered in the cash book"—that is how I know—there is an entry in the ledger but not in the cash book—sometimes I make entries in the cash book, and sometimes the prisoner—his duty is to post the ledger from the cash book—he does not make all the entries in the cash book—if I receive money I enter it, mostly Wood would do so and hand me the money when I came in—if the prisoner received money in my absence, he would hand it to me when I came in—the receipt is in the prisoner's ordinary writing—the date of the cash book, page 40, is December 9th—it would be his duty to enter the amount at the time he received the money—I found no corresponding entry in the cash book to the entry in the ledger.

WILLIAM LIDDELL . I have never been called before—I have gone through the prosecutor's books, and found an entry in the ledger which is not to be found in the cash-book—I was not called before the Magistrate.

JOHN CHARLES WELLS (Re-examined). I invariably made the entry in the cash-book myself the moment I received the money, if it had not been previously entered—when received from one of my assistants I should check the amount by the cash-book—when I balance the cash-book in the evening I check the accounts through—I write cheques for everything.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Justice Stephen.

407. JOHN NICHOLLS (62) , Feloniously wounding William Stanlake, with intent to murder. Second Count with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. RIBTON Prosecuted.

EMMA STANLAKE . I am the wife of Joseph Stanlake, of 23, Park Street, Islington, a French-polisher—the prisoner has been living with my husband's mother between eleven and twelve years—as far as we knew they were man and wife, they always said so—on the night of 5th March I went to meet my husband in Goswell Road at his place of business—at that time and up to the present my husband's mother was living with us, and had been for about three months; she had ceased to cohabit with the prisoner because he ill-used her—he was not in the habit of coming to our house; he was forbidden, but he has watched my husband and me several times—this happened in High Street, Islington—my husband and I were coming home arm-in-arm together—we had passed about a dozen yards from Barnsbury Street when the prisoner rushed out of a dark corner, seised hold of my husband, and held him by one shoulder with one hand, and dug the knife into him with the other (this was between 10 and 11 at night)—he said "I will kill you"—I kept screaming "Murder 1"—my husband struggled with him; he never ceased digging the knife into him; they fell together; my husband fell on his face, and the prisoner fell on the top of him—he said "I will do for you," and dug the knife into the spine of his back, the lower part of his back—I ran towards the police-station; the prisoner ran after me with the knife—I called out "Murder!"—a constable came up to my assistance, and the prisoner turned on hie heel and went a different way in the dark towards Highbury; the constable

went after him and took him—I went to the station and found my husband there bleeding dreadfully—he was sent to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and remained there a fortnight.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. About six months ago I went with my husband to see his mother in White Lion Street—I forced open the kitchen door—we did not strike you in the face or spit in your face—when I saw you kicking my husband I pulled your hair and tore your face; you kicked him most dreadfully and me too—I threw a flower-pot in your face when I saw you ill-using my husband—the flower-pot was not broken on your face—on this night I met my husband at his place of business—we went into the Star and Garter to have something to drink before we went home; we stopped there about half an hour with his friends—we afterwards went to the Fox; that was all—we did not meet you; we never saw you till you pounced on him behind—he was carrying two birds' turfs rolled up in paper, which I had bought—he did not call you any filthy name or strike you with the turfs—I have lived at 47, White Lion Street—that was a brothel.

JOSEPH STANLAKE . I am a French-polisher at a pianoforte manufacturer's—I have known the prisoner these twelve years—he has been living with my mother over eleven years—I was under the impression for some time that they were married; he told me so—I discovered that they were not married about eight years ago—my mother ceased to live with him because he broke up all the things and got a month's imprisonment—that was about four months ago—after that my mother came to live with us—I don't think the prisoner knew where we lived; he never came to the house—on the evening of 5th March my wife came into the city to meet me, and we were returning home together; we were going along Upper Street, Islington, and had got about three doors past Barnsbury Street, when all of a sudden I felt as if a load of bricks was falling on my head; it gradually knocked me down—I received a number of blows on my head—I turned and got up the best way I I could and faced the prisoner, and caught a large knife in my hand as it entered my throat—I struggled with him for two or three minutes, off the pavement into the road, on to the team lines—I fell on my face after all the blows—the blood was all over me, and it blinded me; I got exhausted, and he drew the knife from me and stuck it into my back, and said "You b—I have done for you now"—in pulling the knife out it pulled me up—I was taken to the station and then to the hospital, and was there three weeks—my hands were cut, and I have lost the use of a joint—as far I call tell this (produced) is the knife he had, or one exactly like it.

Cross-examined. I called at the house in White Lion Street for my daughter, I suppose about five years ago; she was then about 13; she is now 17 or 18; I did not allow her in the house—it was not your house, it was mine—I went after my daughter because I would not allow her there—about six months ago I went to the house and stopped you from going in—it was the house where you were living with my mother—I don't reeolieet an occasion when my wife threw a flower pot in your face; if she did, it was only what you deserved; that was the time you kicked her, it was when my daughter was in the house, and I had her out—it was not six months ago it was a long time, 5 or 6 years ago—I did not strike you and pull your mm if I could have got at you I would have given a good account of you—picked my wife off the stairs when you kicked her, and you bolted away and

fastened yourself in a room, and I could not get at you; I tried to do so, I should nave taken my wife's part; I took her away and she was under a doctor for a long time—I did not force my way into the kitchen—I have not on different occasions since then halloed after you in the street, or used bad expressions to you—I did not see you on the Tuesday and Wednesday, in the week previous to this occurrence, or make use of any expressions as I passed you; my wife and I walked home together on this night from my place of business; we called in at the Star and Garter, I always do every evening, it is like a half-way house—we afterwards met a friend and his wire and went into the Fox, and stopped there twenty minutes—I was perfectly sober—I did not see you till I caught the knife in my hand and in my throat—I don't know whether I or my wife had the turfs—we were struggling together about two or three minutes, I did not say a word to you, I was—too far gone; I feel on the tram lines on my face when you drew the knife out of my hand—it is 8 years ago since I discovered that you were not married to my mother—I have not received any money or anything from her since then—I did live at No. 1, Hermes Street, I did not keep a brothel there—I lived with Louie Dudley for eight or nine months, but that is years ago, in my young days—your house was a brothel, and you have been living on it all the time my mother kept you.

WILLIAM HARRAN (Policeman N 237). About a quarter to 11 on this night I was standing at the door of the police-station in Upper Street, Islington, and heard a woman calling out "Murder!"—I ran to the comer of Barnsbury Street and there saw the prosecutor standing staggering, bleeding from the head; his wife was in the road, she pointed to the prisoner, who was about a dozen yards off, I don't think he could hear what she said; I went after him and told him he would have to go to the station with me, he turned round and walked quietly to the station with me; he said nothing—he was placed in the dock and the charge was read over to him, it was for attempting to murder the prosecutor—he said nothing.

JOHN WONAOOTT (Policeman N 383). I was with Harran and heard the cries of "Murder!"—I assisted the prosecutor to the station—I found this knife on the grass-plat, in front of Tyndal Place, in Upper Street, about 100 yards from the police-station towards Highbury, about 20 yards from where the occurrence took place; there was fresh blood upon it, smeared all over it, tome of it was wiped off.

FRANCIS JOHN BUCKLE . I am a B.M. of the London University and surgeon of the N division of police, living at 31, Upper Street, Islington—on the night of 5th March, about 11.30,1 was called to the station and saw the prosecutor there—I examined him—all the wounds were clean cut wounds, first there was a wound across the top of the head 3 1/2 inches long, reaching quite down to the bone, a wound 2 inches long, about an inch and a half behind the first wound, slanting upwards from left to right, then two wounds on the level of the ear, one 2 inches behind the right ear, the other shout half an inch to the left of the spinal column; those were each about an inch and three-eighths in length, and five-eighths of an inch in depth; there was a small wound to the right of the ear, over the forehead; there was also a traverse wound one inch long in the lower part of the back, two inches to the left of the spine, and on the left hand there were four or five wounds—those were all I noticed at the time—I have since seen a cicatrix on the front of the neck about an inch and a half to the right of the middle

line, he had lost a great deal of blood and was very much exhausted' this knife was shown to me, and is exactly such an instrument as would inflict such wounds; the measurement exactly corresponds with many of the wounds, they were clearly stabs—there was blood on the knife—the prosecutor was perfectly sober—I examined the prisoner, there was dry blood on his cheek and both hands, and wet blood on both sleeves of his great-coat—he is a large powerful man, very much more powerful than the prosecutor.

The Prisoner, in a written defence, repeated the substance of his cross-examination of the witnesses, alleging ill-usage, drunkenness, and violence on their part, and stating that he purchased the knife on the evening in question of a man in the street for 6d., intending to sett it at a profit, and having it in his pocket at the time he met the prosecutor and his wife, he took it out to prevent any injury to himself.

GUILTY on Second Count — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

408. WALTER MELLISH (33) , Feloniously setting fire to certain clothing and rags in the dwelling-house of William Bray, he and others being therein.

MR. WILLES Prosecuted.

ELIZABETH BRAY . I am the wife of William Bray, carpenter, 2, Clayton Street, Caledonian Road—the prisoner has been lodging with us since last July, with his wife and children—he had two kitchens in the basement with an area in front—on the 23rd February I was upstairs in the evening nearly 9 o'clock, the prisoner was in the kitchen—his wife and children were not in the house—I had given the prisoner notice to quit about a fortnight previously—his wife and children had not gone away in consequence of that notice—I did not notice anything upstairs till on coming out of the room to fetch some water I discovered the smoke—I was going downstairs to see where it came from, when some people knocked at the street door—I opened it and some one ran in directly—I stood in the passage to keep them from going into another lodger's room, because there were only some children there, and the lodger was out—I went afterwards into the kitchen, and saw the prisoner sitting in front of the fire, smoking—some infants' clothing and rags were burning by the cupboard door—the drawers were open and the place was in great confusion—he said nothing to me—Mr. Knight put the fire out—the floor was not much burnt—the cupboard was scorched a little—my husband gave the prisoner into custody.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There is not much damage done, only a little of the cupboard door scorched.

THOMAS KNIGHT . I am a grinder, and live at 1, Clayton Street, Islington—on the night of the 23rd of February I heard cries of "Fire!" next door—I came downstairs and saw the smoke coming up the staircase—I ran downstairs and opened the door, and the smoke came out of the kitchen—there was a good deal of smoke, and I could hardly see anything for a moment—I stopped a moment till the smoke got out, and then I saw the prisoner sitting in the chair—I said, "Mellish, what are you doing are you trying to set the place on fire?"—he said, "No, a spark fell out'—I looked down and there was a heap of rags burning—the bundle was about a foot high by the cupboard—I put it out—the prisoner did not help me—he sat in the chair and never attempted to move at

all—he threw some of the things back again on to the floor while they were burning—I believe he was sober.

Cross-examined. There was not much damage done—I do not know if you were out when the fire happened, you were in when I was there—the fire-place was about 18 inches from the bundle of rags.

GEORGE GAMBLIN (Policeman Y 286). When I went into the house on the 23rd February, the kitchen was in a state of confusion—in one corner, on the right-hand side from the fireplace, some clothes were burning, and underneath the table, in front of the fire, was a heap about two feet high of cardboard boxes broken in pieces—the prisoner's wife is a milliner—the drawers adjoining the boxes were drawn out, and papers and boxes strewed about them—the burning rags were about four or five feet from the table—I took the prisoner into custody—he was quite sober.

Cross-examined. The boards and the corner of the cupboards were scorched.

Prisoner's Defence. I was out when it happened, and I suppose a spark flew or a bit of wood fell out and set light to the children's things, and when I got back I tried all I knew to put it out, and Mr. Knight came in and he assisted me, and picked up some rags and threw them on the fire—I had no intention of setting fire to it—I had no ill-feeling towards the people—I had been living with them a long while.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

409. GEORGE BARNABAS ADDISON (38) PLEADED GUILTY to a libel upon Daniel Tallerman. To enter into his own recognizances.

410. JOHN CONNOR (36) , Unlawfully obtaining 2l. 1s. 7d. from George Gaisford by false pretenses.

MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. GEOHEGAN Defended.

GEORGE GAISFORD . I am manager to Ashley and Co., builders, of Kingsland Road, who are carrying out some works for Messrs. Caldecott in Cheapside—the prisoner was employed there—the pay-day is Saturday, and the night gang is paid at 6 a.m.—on the 8th March a man who went by the name of Roland was employed on the works—I have a book in which the men's names are entered and the sums due to them—I take it inside a sort of box with a little window to it—Mr. Diprose, the clerk, takes the sheet, calls out the names and amounts, and I pay the men—on the 8th March Roland's name was called out loud enough for everybody to hear, and I passed 2l. 1s. 7d. out at the window, which was the sum Roland was entitled to—I saw a hand only take the money—William Connor's name came next on the list, he was entitled to 1l. 17s. 9 1/2 d.—his name was called out, and I passed that money in the same way, and saw it taken—if I had known that the person who took the 2l. 1s. 7d. was not Roland, I would not have allowed it to be taken away—I believed it was Roland—my cash balanced after I had paid the money.

Cross-examined. About sixty men are employed there, and they are all paid by me and Diprose—we were both inside the office—we called out all the names except two.

GEORGE DIPROSE . On 8th March I called out the name of Roland, and

saw 2l. 1s. 7d. put through the loophole and taken away—I then called out Connor's name, and saw 1l. 19s. 7 1/2. taken away—Roland afterwards applied fop his money, and I informed Mr. Gaisford—if I had known that Connor would take both sums I would not hare paid them—Connor shortly afterwards returned to the pay box, presented his money, and asked if I had not given him too much, handing me 1l. 17s. 9 1/2 d.—I referred to the books and told him it was right—he said nothing about 2l. 1s. 7d.—being a night workman he ought to have come to work at 6.30 on Monday, but he did not come at all after that.

Cross-examined. We pay the men by time—it is not unusual for a man to absent himself on a Monday, but he has never returned.

PATRICK WHITE . I work for Messrs. Ashley at Caldecott's—I was outside the pay-box on Saturday, 8th March, and saw Connor at the pay-box, and he shifted away a little, and then I heard his name called, and he went up again and took his money—I said to him "Have you got too much money) he said, "What shall I do?"—I said "Do as you like"—he took it back, gave it into the office, and came back and said, "The extra time puzzles me"—I suspected he had got too much, because I saw him move from the box before his name was called—I know Roland, he was not there when they Were paying the men.

Cross-examined. I was ten or eleven feet from the box—the room was not dark—three or four men left the pay-box and Connor with them—I left the place and met Connor outside—he had remained there after I was paid—I was the first to leave—this conversation was about a yard from the box—the moment I said that, Connor went back to the window and said, "Have not you given me too much?.

JOHN RAWLINSON . I went by the name of Koland on these works—I was at work in the week ending Saturday, 8th March, but I went home unwell on Thursday, and was not there to take my money, 2l. 1s., 7d., on Saturday morning, but I asked for it later, and heard something and told Mr. Diprose—the prisoner did not speak to me about it or give me any money—I never saw him till he was in custody.

WILLIAM POTTS (City Detective). On 15th March I took the prisoner on a warrant—he said that he had only received one week's wages, and they could not do much to him for that.

GEORGE GAISFORD (Re-examined). The utmost amount of overtime that the prisoner could possibly have imagined that he was to receive for was 9s.

NOT GUILTY .

411. JOHN GRAHAM (19), LOUIS TANNEBAUM (44), and EDWARD NEIL (48) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Frederick Thomas Wood, and stealing three coats, an unbrella, and other articles, his property. Second Count charging Tannebaum with receiving.

MESSRS. POLAND MEAD, and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL appeared for Graham; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. W. SLEIGH for Tannebaum; and MESSRS. FRITH and S. WHITE for Neil,

FREDERICK THOMAS WOOD . I am a builder, of 111, Devonshire Street, Mile End—on Sunday, 26th January, I went to bed about 1 am, having fastened up the house myself and put the chain up to the front door—I came down about 9 o'clock and found the front door open—there were no marks of violence on it—the front parlour window was open, and a squaw

of glass broken which was sound overnight—that window looks into the street; them is a small fore court—there was a mark on the bottom of the window frame where they had tried to force it—when the glass was broken a hand could be put in and the fastening undone—I missed these two overcoat*, three pair of gloves, a fusee-case, two plated mugs, a sugar-basin, two pipes, an umbrella, a pair of boots, and a table-cover (produced)—they are my property—Graham was wearing one of the coats at the police-station.

BICHARD WILDEY (Police Inspector K). On 20th January I received information of the burglary at Mr. Wood's, and at 8 o'clock that morning I went with Sergeant Rolfe to 29, Devonshire Street, St. George's, which is a brothel, end found Graham there in bed with a prostitute—two other officers were outside—I told Graham I should take him in custody for a burglary at 111, Devonshire Street, Mile End, on Sunday morning—he said "All right, I will go with you; I know nothing about it"—he dressed himself and put on this coat, (One of those identified)—I handed him over to another officer—he is known among his companions as Knocker—I then went to 11, Roberta Place, about five minutes' walk off, where Neil occupied the front parlour—I told Neil I had got Knocker in custody for housebreaking, and was going to search the place—he said "He don't live here; I don't know anything of him"—I do not know of my own knowledge whether Graham lived there—we searched the room, and I saw Rolfe find in a cupboard this large nail (produced)—I said to Neil, "What is this for? is it a jemmy?"—he said "That is what we use to hang the meat on"—Rolfe asked him what the rag was tied round it for—Neil's wife said, "It is to prevent the children knocking their eyes against it under the mantelpiece"—there was a hole under the mantelpiece, and Neil said that the nail was put in there to roast the meat—I saw the children; they were not tall enough to be in danger from the nail—the nail would not go into the hole on account of it being turned up—we took possession of it, and as we were leaving Neil said "You had better go round to my landlord round the corner at the grocer's; he will give you my character; he will tell you we are respectable, hard-working people"—he did not give the name—I went round to the shop he mentioned, and it was Tannebaum's, 7, Thomas Street, about fifty yards from Neil's—Tannebaum's same was up—it is a chandler's shop—I saw him, and said "I have got a young man in custody this morning for house-breaking; he lives at 11, Roberts Place; I have been there and searched the place, and they deny all knowledge of him, and say that they are hard-working people, and refer me to you for a character"—he said "They have been my tenants for some years, and are respectable, hard-working people; in fact 1 cannot say too much in favour of them"—I left, obtained a search warrant, went back between 12 and 1, and said to Tannebaum, "You remember seeing me this morning; did you buy an umbrella on Sunday?"—he said "No"—I said, "Now be sure"—he still said that he did not—I said, "Then I have a warrant to search your house"—he said, "Let me see it"—I handed it to him—he went to the window, read it, handed it back to me, and said, "Yes, I think I did buy one"—I said, "Let me have it, then"—he went upstairs, and I followed him to the corner of a room where there were 10 or 12 umbrellas, handed one to me, and said, "Here it is"—I said, "This is not the one I want, I want one with a buckhorn handle"—he went to a wardrobe in the room, opened the door, and after two or three minutes produced this umbrella from behind a number of coats hanging up—I said,

"Did you buy anything else with it, a plated mug and sugar basin?"—he said "No"—I told him I should take him in custody for receiving the umbrella, well knowing it to have been stolen—I took him in custody, and left two officers in charge of the house—I went back afterwards, made a further search, and found two mugs, a sugar basin, this fusee case, and the overcoat which Mr. Wood has on now, which was given up to him by the Magistrate's permission—the fusee case was locked up in a bureau—I saw Sergeant Rolfe find some gloves in the pocket of the coat Fox was wearing, which he took off and threw on the sofa—the coat Mr. Wood is wearing was hanging up with the umbrella—I found a great deal of property there, which we took away in a cart and two or three cabs; there was a couple of van loads altogether—there were more than 1,000 articles; I made a list of them—I compared this nail with Mr. Wood's window, and it tallied exactly, and also with some marks on the jamb of the drawing-room door at Mrs. Cordingley's, 6, Addington Road, Bow—on the Sunday week, 9th February, I went to Neil's house and took him in custody for being concerned with Knocker in breaking into 117, Devonshire Street, and several other places—he said "All right"—I told him some of the property had been found at his place—he said, "I have got the bills relating to them"—Sergeant Rolfe took possession of some duplicates—I said, "It is nothing to do with the tickets, it is the gloves"—he said, "We have had them a long time;" I think he said about 12 months; "my wife bought them in the Lane"—the gloves had not been produced then—these are the three pairs (produced)—on the way to the station I said, "The jemmy corresponds with the marks at 111, Devonshire Street, and also on the door at No. 6, Addington Road"—he said, "I told you before it is what we use to hang the meat, on in front of the fire"—he made no answer to the charge at the station nor yet before the Magistrate—I got this card, "Lewis Tannebaum," at Tannebaum's house—this wedge was found in the pocket of the coat Graham was wearing when he was searched at the station.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Graham said, "I know who has done this for me; you recollect that party who came upstairs last night and wanted me to go out with him"—he then dressed himself and put on the coat produced—I did not say, "Is that the only coat you have?"—I was searching the room while he was dressing—I heard him say, "Yes, I pawned the Ulster you have seen me in yesterday for 7 s."—I saw this piece of wood found at the station in the pocket of the coat which he put on.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. The gloves were in a box which anybody could see on the table—I do not know whether it was open or shut—the room door led into the passage—the nail was in a cupboard by the fireplace, not locked up—I asked Tannebaum whether he had any lodgers—he said no—Neil denied all knowledge of Graham—Graham has not said that he lived there, nor has Neil—I asked if Knocker lived there, and I mentioned George Hall, which is Graham's right name, but I did not say "Graham," as I did not know he went by that name—the gloves have nothing to do with this charge—I only saw one child at Neil's each time—he has a son 19 or 20, and he says that he has a boy 12 or 13 at work at a coal place.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Tannebaum said that 11a, Roberts Place was his property, and I have no doubt of it—Graham was not there when Neil referred to his landlord, the grocer round the corner—the houses are let out in tenements.

WILLIAM ROLFE (Police Sergeant K). I was with Wildey when Graham was taken at 29, Devonshire Street—I told him the charge—he said "I know nothing about it; you know who has put me away for this," turning to a soldier who was lying in the room, "You recollect a party coming there last night and asking me to go out with him; that is the man that put me away for this"—on the way to the police-court I had another man, Parish, in custody, who was discharged by the Magistrate, and Graham said to Parish, "You say nothing, I will sing for all".

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. When Graham put on the coat I said "Is that the only coat you have?"—he said "Yes; I pawned the Ulster you saw me in yesterday for 7*.," and he gave me the ticket.

CHARLES START . I live at 3, York Street, Mile End, and formerly worked for Mr. Mayberry, a carman in the City—in May last I was convicted of assault with a knife, and sentenced to six months' imprisonment at Cold Bath Fields, where I made Graham's acquaintance, who was undergoing three months' imprisonment—after I came out I was at the Lord Palnerston beer house, Mile End, and Graham tapped me on the shoulder, and said "Don't you know me, Sir?"—I said "No"—he said "Don't you remember we were in the D ward together?"—I said "No"—I was confined in the D ward—we had some further conversation, and I met him next night by appointment at the Union Flag public-house, Whitechapel—this was in November—I went for a walk with him and had some drink and we parted—in the beginning of December I went with him to 1 1a, Roberts Place, Commercial Road—I saw Neil there, and Graham called and told me that Neil was his uncle—Graham said that he lived at 11a, and I have seen him in bed there, in a bed made up on the floor in a corner of the front room—he once showed me this jemmy (produced)—there is a chip out of the corner of the end of it—he said that he had bought the steel and paid 2s. to have it made he also showed me a bunch of keys, which he said were skeleton keys—I saw a wedge like this in December, I believe, but it was not dirty then—he showed me this nail on the Saturday as Mr. Wood's burglary was done on Sunday morning, but it had no rag round it then—he said that he lost his other jemmy in striking a constable across the head in Whitechapel Road, and as he ran down North Street he dropped it at the corner of Little North Street, and was obliged to have this one (the nail) made instead of the other—I believe there is a large knob at the end of it where it has been knocked about, and a piece out—it had not the rag on it then—I went to the Union Flag and he was there—I had not agreed to meet him there; we had a drink, and he pulled it out of his pocket—about fourteen days before Christmas I was at Neil's, and he said to Graham You had better turn up Bow as you have made it too hot, and you had better give some other place a turn"—Graham laughed, and said "Yes, I made Bow too hot two years ago"—I met Graham a good many times—I was not out of employment—I have never been convicted of dishonesty, only of this assault.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I did not know what the skeleton keys were, or the piece of iron—I saw Graham about a score of times—I gave my evidence at the police-court in February—I had seen Wildey before that, and I was in communication with Detective Payne—I met him soon after I saw Graham and told him—I threw myself in Graham's company whenever I could—I made a special report whenever I saw payne—he was always glad to have special information from me—I

suppose it was his duty—I was in employment at the time at Hill and Jones's, the pastrycook's—the foreman there did not know that I had been con victed at the Middlesex Sessions, or that I was acting under Wildey's instructions; it was not my place to tell him—I did my work there—I was at 29, Devonshire Street on 28th January, the day before Graham was taken—I asked him to go out.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I mentioned this conversation to the police—two days afterwards I met the detective and told him—when I heard this story about the jemmy I was dreadfully shocked—Payne was the first detective I met when I left the prison, and I told him two days after I met Graham in the beershop—I am not in work now, and have not been since a fortnight before Graham was taken—my parents have been keeping me since, and I have had 3l. 10s. from the police for information which I had given—I have no hope of getting any more—I am doing this because I am bound over; I am not actuated by the hope of getting another 3l.—the nail had no rag on it when I saw it, I looked at it carefully and saw that it had a head, and a piece chopped off—I had no idea what a dreadful purpose it was used for till the prisoner told me—we are not allowed to apeak to one another in Clerkenwell—after I came out of prison I was taken on three weeks' work before Christmas—I have done no work since this cue has been on—I saw the nail on the Saturday as the prisoner was taken on Wednesday morning, and I gave information the same night to Sergeant Rolfe, before any of them were given in custody, and again when I met him on Monday or Tuesday—I had only known Neil two days when the gloves were given to him.

Re-examined. I was aiding the police and reported to them everything that passed—they gave me the 3l. 10s. in small sums from time to time for my maintenance—I was at the police-court at the various remands, week after week, assisting the police—when I saw this nail the rag was not on it, and the head had been knocked off—it is the same.

HENRY WISBY . I am a milkman, of 4, Barnes Square, Chester Street—one morning at the latter end of January I found this jemmy inside a doorway in Little North Street, the first door down.

GEORGE WILSON . I am a naval pensioner—on 12th March, I was living at 7, Goat Lane Cottages, Enfield—I went to "bed about 9.20, and next morning found the place broken into, and 55s., a watch, a stiletto, and other things stolen, among which was this Crimean medal (produced); it has my name on it.

JANE BELLMAN . I am the wife of John George Bellman, of 168, Antill Road, Bow—on the night of November 5th, 1878, I left my window unfastened when I went out, I found it open when I returned, and missed an antimacassar, a tablecloth, and other articles—I identify some of the things here as mine.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. The antimacassar is my own work, and I know this tablecloth by these spots on the back.

ADELE SHILCOCK . I am the wife of John Arthur Shilcock, of 3, Calverly Street, Mile End—on November 25th I went out about 9 o'clock, and when I returned I missed a tea-caddy from the parlour, this is it (produced).

JOHN WELLS . I live at 35, Bancroft Road, Mile End—on the night of 10th December I left my house safely locked up, and next meaning came down and found the front parlour window fastening undone—I missed an overcoat and three pairs of gloves, two pairs of which are produced.

LAURA RUSSELL . I am Mr. Wells's servant—on the night of 10th December I was sleeping in the front parlour, Mr. Wells awoke me in the morning, and I missed a dress—this is it.

MARY ANN MILTON . I am the wife of Edward Milton, of 14, Beaumont Square, Mile End Road—on 1st January I left the front parlour for a short time and on my return missed some articles, and among them these two lady's companions (produced)—one was given to me and the other my husband bought.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. 1 also lost a very handsome tablecover and some books.

GRORGE ROBEY . I live at Kish Lane, Tredegar Road, Bow, and am vestry clerk at Bromley—on the morning of January 4th I found that my house had been broken into in the night, and I missed some property, among which were these two overcoats, and I believe this antimacassar—these gloves are mine—I also missed a Cardigan jacket, and the one Graham has on is very much like it.

LOUISA CORDINGLEY . I live with my brother at 6, Addington Road, Bow—our house was broken into on January 15th, and I missed a clock, a coat, and other articles—this clock, coat, pair of gloves, and three antimacassars are mine—I produce one of the hands of the clock found on the drawing-room floor.

MARY ANN CUTHBERT . I live at 24, Alderney Road, Stepney—on the Homing of January 16th I came down and found that my house had been broken into, and missed some property—I identify this cost, five knives, and six forks, two of which have wooden handles.

CHARLES HYMANS . I am a merchant, of 53, 81 Peter's Road, Mile End—on January 24th my house was broken into with a jemmy—there were marks on the window—a quantity of things were stolen—these three coats, table-cover, and pair of boots are mine—I also lost some silver and plated articles, which I have sot seen since.

RICHARD WILDKY (Re-examined). I found this medal in a secret drawer in a bureau in Tannebaum's bedroom—this table-cover was in a drawer under a wardrobe in the front room, and the antimacassars somewhere in the house—Mr. Shilcock's tea-caddy was in the front room upstairs, and also the lady's companions; the coot and antimaeeassars shown to Robey were also found at Tannebaum's, and the gloves at Neil's—this table-cloth, clock, antimacassar, and coat of Cordingley's were found at Tannebaum's, and a pair of gloves at Neil's—Cuthbert's coat and knives and forks were found at Tannebaum's, also Hyman's three coats, table-cover, and boots—I compared this jemmy with the marks at Mr. Hymen's, and it fitted them, and this nail fitted the marks on the jamb of Miss Cordingley's drawing-room door—the thief had evidently been locked in, and forced the door open to get out.

Cross-exsmined by MR. FRITH. The nail is rather mere than a quarter of an inch thick—I never saw a jemmy so small—any instrument of the same size and the same make would make the same mark; there may be thousands such.

HENRY PAYNE (Detective K) On January 30th I searched Tannebaum's bouse and found this coat, gloves, and dress; they were shown to Wells and Russell.

Witnesses for Tannebaum.

ANN BURNHAM I am the wife of Joseph Burnham, of 3, Thomas Sttreet,

Commercial Road—I have known Mrs. Tannebaum some time—I was there on a Monday or Tuesday, towards the end of January, when a man came in with an umbrella and a parcel, which was opened, and contained a little milk-jug, a sugar-basin, and a little mug—I believe these are them, but cannot swear to them—he asked if she would change a cheque—she said that she did not change paper money for anybody—he asked if she would lend him some money on some goods—she asked how he knew she lent money on goods; he said a German friend of his sent him there, and produced the articles—she asked what he wanted—he said, "A sovereign"—she said that he must buy some goods from the shop as well—he said that he would take some cigars—she said that she could not lend a sovereign on the things, and he took off an overcoat and produced an umbrella and a fusee case, which I am almost fsure was this one; it is tortoise shell gilt—she gave him 19s. and a shilling's worth of cigars—he said that he would redeem the things next day, when he changed the cheque—she said that he must bring 2 back for them—I left a few minutes afterwards—as I went I kicked against a pair of gloves, not kid; they were more like these—I picked them up and gave them to Mrs. Tannebaum.

Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. I have known Mr. and Mrs. Tannebaum two or three years, not intimately, but as a regular customer—it is an ordinary chandler's shop—a daughter is also employed there, but there is no servant that I know of—I know Neil by going up and down the street—I know he lives in the next court, that is all—I never saw Graham—I was not examined at the police-court—I was accidentally in the shop when this occurred—I went to buy some paraffin oil—it was 9 o'clock or a little after—the man gave no name or address—I have frequently seen money lent on goods there, and have seen Mrs. Tannebaum lend money on pawn-tickets—she said that she had so many Court jobs that—she would not lend money unless they brought some valuables for it—I saw no entry made in any book—I did not see the cheque—he did not say how much it was for—she took the things into the parlour—she did not say whether she had shown them to her husband—I do not know whether he was there—she did not bring them back—the man was waiting, and she came back, and entered into conversation with him.

Re-examined. Another man was in the shop; I do not know his name—I did not see Tannebaum there that night.

ABRAHAM JACOBS . (Tlirough an Interpreter) I understand a little English, but I cannot speak it—I live at 38, King Edward Street—I was in Tannebaum's shop one evening, and there saw a woman—I cannot say whether it was Mrs. Burnham—I saw a man come in with a parcel in his hand—I saw it undone, it contained jugs like these; I was only there a short time.

DAVID TOBIAS . I am a dealer in second-hand goods at 192, Hanbury Street, Mile End Road—I know Tannebaum's shop; he is a provision dealer, and I have seen coats and trousers there—I have had advances on goods which I have left there, but not exactly like these—I never sold him any table-covers.

HERMAN BARRER . I live at 3, Fairclose Street, St. George's-in—the East—I have known Tannebaum some years, and have sold him coats, trousers, and vests, which I bought second-hand, and repaired.

AMELIA FOX . I live at 4, Bell Square, Moorfields, and assist my father in tailor's work—I have known Tannebaum five years, and have from time to time sold him antimacassars which I made myself.

Cross-examined. I sold new antimacassars to Mrs. Tannebaum.

HANNAH DE WILD . I live at 12, Everard Street, Commercial Road—I was on the Exchange in Cutler Street, Houndsditch, in December, and bought a red and black check dress of a woman who had a lot of clothes in her lap—she asked 6s., I gave her 5s.—I took it to Mrs. Tannebaum next evening, and asked her 4s. for it—she gave me 2s. in silver, and 2s. in provisions—I did not sell it to her, I left it with her for 4s.—I should know it again—this is it. (The dress identified by Russell)—I took it there next evening because I wanted some food for my children—I only wanted a temporary advance.

Cross-examined. I had no ticket for it—I have known the Tannebaums for the last ten years.

LEAH SYMONDS (Through an Interpreter). I live in Samuel Street, Commercial Road—I know Tannebaum; I saw him in the Lane one Sunday carrying a small box on a barrow—it may have been this desk, but it is so long ago I cannot say.

CHRISTIAN BORGES . I live at 2, James Street, Cannon Street Road—I know Tannebaum—besides being a provision merchant I have known him dealing in miscellaneous articles, boxes and things of that sort—I serve in Petticoat Lane for him on Friday, and sometimes on Sunday—I have bought coats and furniture for him these five years—he paid me 1s. or 1s. 6d. at a time to move them.

ISAAC MORRIS . I live at 122, York Street, Poplar—I remember picking up a soldier's medal in the street—I took it to Mrs. Tannebaum, who lent me 18d. on it, and gave me 1s. worth of grocery.

Cross-examined. I can read a little—as to my seeing the man's name on it, I am not a very good scholar; there was something on it, I do not remember what—I found it at the end of November last—there was a little ring to it, and a little bit of tape—I cannot recollect the colour—there were no bars—I got no memorandum for it—I knew it was a soldier's medal—I might have taken it to the police station if it had been a valuable article, but I did not care about going—I had it some time in my pocket before I took it to Tannebaum's—I have know them 12 years.

GRAHAM** and NEIL— GUILTY .— Seven Years' Each in Penal Servitude.

TANNEBAUM— GUILTY on the Second Count — Ten Years' Penal Servitude , and to pay the costs of the Prosecution, not exceeding 100l .

There were fourteen other indictments against the prisoners.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Sergeant.

412. CHRISTOPHER GEORGE CUTCHEY (48) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully writing and publishing a false, scandalous, and defamatory libel of and concerning Christian Arnold Farwig, knowing it to be false.— To enter into his own recognisances in 201. to appear when called upon.

413. GEORGE LEADER (26) , Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement upon an order for 2l. 5s., with intent to defraud.

MR. W. M. GOODMAN Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS, with the HON. F. PARKER, Defended.

THOMAS SMITH . I am an upholsterer at 65, King's Road, Chelsea—on the 4th January I drew this cheque, payable to S. Marks or order—it is

signed by me and is dated 4th January—I wrote the words "or order"—I owed Mr. Marks some money—I handed it to Mr. Marks, and not to a messenger, and he took it away—a Mr. Attwood did not take it; I never saw him; I do not know him—I gave the cheque to a strange man—I never saw the man before, and I made him give me a receipt for it—I had the receipt with me, but I have lost it this morning.

SOLOMON MARKS . I am a looking-glass maker at 97, Nichols Square—I sent the man Attwood for the cheque—he did not return to me with it—on the 4th of January, the same evening, I went to the Birdcage public-house in consequence of what I heard—I saw there the defendant, who was the manager—I saw this cheque in his possession—it was not endorsed—I said "Have you the cheque in your possession"—he said "Yes"—my father and two other friends were present—I am the drawee of the cheque—this endorsement is not mine, and is not made with my authority—the prisoner asked me to endorse it—I said "No, I will see how the thing goes first," or words to that effect—I intended looking for the man who had absconded with it that night—I communicated with the police, and returned in about an hour's time with. Police-Sergeant Jenman, and was present when he spoke to the prisoner—Jenman asked him if he had received such a cheque—he said "Yes"—Jenman said "Don't part with it until you hear from me"—I do not recollect the prisoner's reply—I have had several cheques cashed at the Birdcage—it is not above three minutes' walk from my house.

Cross-examined. I saw the name of Billinghurst and Clifford over the door of the public-house, and 1 believe they are the proprietors—I may have seen Mr. Billinghurst, but do not know him personally—I have cashed cheques there before—I sent my wife there with a cheque to be cashed, and on one occasion I went myself to cash a cheque, when I saw the prisoner's wife, they paid me the money and I came away, and forgot to endorse the cheque—I went again shortly after with another cheque, and the prisoner's wife said she had a few words over the other cheque because I had not endorsed it; they had saved it for me, and I endorsed it then—I did not say "You need not have got into any bother; you might just as well have endorsed it yourself"—if she makes that representation it is not true—as to this cheque I sent round first to know if they had received such I cheque, and then I went myself with my father and another gentleman—I asked to see the cheque, and it was shown to me by the prisoner—this is if; it is for 2l. 5s.—I did not ask him for it—I believed he had honestly paid the 21. 5s. for it—I went with a constable afterwards—my friends have not been trying to get any money out of this—I did say before the Magistrates, my friends have not have offered to settle it for 40l. that I am aware of"—I cannot say how many cheques I have cashed there, I have not kept count—it might be a dozen, probably two—I have known the prisoner as manager about three months—I occasionally went in as I passed; only since 1 went there to change cheques—I always found them very civil when they changed cheques.

Re-examined. I was asked the question at the police-court by Mr. Williams whether my friends had not offered to square it for 40l.—that was the first I had heard of it—I am not aware of the amount now, nor any amount—no offer has been made to me—the prisoner's friends have asked me to make a suggestion—I said I would have nothing to do with it—there is no

truth in the statement that I told the prisoner's wife she could have endorsed the cheque—she gave it me and I endorsed it—I am quite sure of that—the detective told him not to part with it—I refused to endorse it—I have no banking account—I took all cheques to this public-house.

ANTHONY HAMMERSON . I am a watch importer at 69, Nichols Square, Hackney Road—I was at the Birdcage on the Saturday night with Mr. Marks and the detective—I saw the cheque in the hands of one of them, I cannot say which—the detective told the prisoner not to part with it—the prisoner handed it to one of them—I saw it was not endorsed Cross-examined. I went with the officer and Marks and two others—I went afterwards on another occasion with a friend of the prisoner, Jennings, I believe, is the name—we went for no purpose—Jennings asked me to go there with him—he was not a stranger; I had seen him before—I had no object to interest me whatever in going—I will not swear it—I am not sure.

Re-examined. Jennings took me over—I do not know if he had any object in going there; I believe so—it was an object I was not interested in—I think I can say what the object was—it was that Jennings came to Marks's place and tried to compensate him in some way or other, but Marks would not entertain it.

Further Cross-examined. I was not prepared, and I did not say in Mr. Jennings's presence that I was prepared to settle it for 40l.—it was not my place to do so—I did not say so to my knowledge—I will not swear I did not Re-examined. I am not interested in it.

FRANK BURTON . I am cashier of the London and County Bank, Shore-ditch—on 7th January some one paid into the bank the cheque produced—the paying-in slip is signed by George Leader—the cheque was endorsed—Billinghurst and Clifford have an account at the bank.

Cross-examined. The prisoner is their manager, he does not bank with us—this cheque was paid in to the credit of his employers.

HENRY JENMAN (Police Sergeant M). On Saturday evening, the 4th January, I went to the Birdcage with Marks—I did not see the cheque—I saw the prisoner, and said to him "Have you received a cheque from Mr. Marks's man?"—I believe I mentioned his name as Attwood—he said "Yes"—I said "Do not part with it, the man has stolen it"—he was very busy that night, and I went away.

Cross-examined. I told him not to part with it, it was stolen—three or four other persons were with me.

By the COURT. On the 22nd February I called in company with Inspector O'Callahan, and showed him the cheque and asked him if he knew now the endorsement came on the back—he said "No"—I asked him if Le had done it—he said "I won't say"—that was nearly six weeks after the forgery, while the case was going on.

GEORGE MARKS . I am a looking-glass manufacturer, at 153, New North Road—I went with my son and Mr. Barnett and Mr. Hammerson on Saturday night, January 4th, to the Birdcage—I saw the cheque in the prisoner's possession—Hammerson said "Has any one changed a cheque here in the name of Marks?"—the prisoner said "Yes"—Hammerson said "Will you let me look at it?"—he looked at it—it was not endorsed—I said to my son "It is not endorsed"—the prisoner said "Perhaps your son

will kindly endorse it now"—I said "Do not endorse it; you had better go down to the police-station and lay the complaint there, and they may find the man"—I heard the prisoner told not to part with the cheque—he said "All right"—I heard my son refuse to sign it.

Witness for the Defence.

HENRY JOHN CLIFFORD . I am in partnership with Mr. Billinghurst as publicans, at the Birdcage Tavern, Columbia Road, Bethnal Green—the prisoner is our manager—in discharge of his duty he brought me this cheque—it is his duty to hand cheques to me—there is no doubt he did so, for I have endorsed it—I cannot say that I sent it to the bank—it would be his duty to pay it in—this is one of my paying-in slips; it has our name upon it—that is Loader's writing—they are my cheques that are paid into the bank (Londonand County Bank. January 7, 1879. Credit Billinghurst and Clifford. Drafts, 100l., 34l. 4s., 2l. 5s. 136l. 9s. Paid in by George Leader.) The endorsement on the back of the cheque is in my writing—I handed it to the prisoner with the endorsement upon it—I had not the least intention to defraud anybody—I endorsed it because these people were continually in the habit of paying cheques at our house, and we had an implied authority to sign them.

Cross-examined. Cheques are placed before me when I go on Monday or Tuesday morning, and I simply say to the prisoner "Have you got the money for this cheque?"he says "Yes, sir," and if it is a customer's cheque I simply endorse it—I should not have endorsed it if I had known the prisoner had been told not to part with it, or that it had been stolen, and that Marks had refused to allow his name to be attached to it—I knew nothing of it—he did not inform me that it was not to be endorsed—I cannot remember if he handed to me; he would put them before me—I haVe no knowledge of any other cheque at that time but this one—he did not tell me he had been warned not to part with it, and that Marks had refused to put his name on it—I have had the money for the cheque—it was paid in to our account, and was our money and a portion of his takings—if we had not got the money back by getting the cheque honoured the prisoner would not have lost the 2l. 5s.—we should put it down as a loss.

Re-examiued. He did not gain or lose a farthing by it.

NOT GUILTY .

The Court intimated that the Prisoner would leave the Court without a stain upon his character.

414. THOMAS BUXTON (48) , Stealing 400 dead fish and 8 wooden boxes of Richard Nash, by whom he was employed in the capacity of servant.

MR. RAVEN Prosecuted; MR. WARNER SLEIGH Defended.

RICHARD NASH . I am a fish salesman at 99, Lower Thames Street—I have employed the prisoner about fourteen years—I employed him on the 3rd of March to bring dried bloaters over from the smoking yard in Kent Road, where I cure the fish, to 99, Lower Thames Street—they were packed 50 in a box—he should have brought 154 boxes—he brought 156 down to me, and eight he left on the bridge—I account for there being more than was ordered because it depends how they are packed, sometimes there are one or two short in the boxes—I did not count the number of boxes at the shop—as soon as my son came I ran up to the bridge to stop the 8 boxes—I had not sold the prisoner any, and had given him no authority to sell them for the last two years—he has sold them and given me the money, though J

have never given him orders to do so—during the last two years I have stopped him selling or giving a bloater to anybody—I stopped him two years ago when I heard what was going on—I am not aware that he has done it within the last two years—the boxes are put on barrows, and there should be a tarpaulin over them—I have spoken to the prisoner several times about the tarpaulin—I have said, "What is the reason you don't put the tarpaulin over it I" and he said, "I have only just undone it"—I gave information to the police on the 3rd March—I was not with the policeman when the prisoner was taken—the prisoner came to my shop with the first load, I was not there then—he came a second time, and I was there—this was the second load—my son was on the bridge.

Cross-examined. I swear the prisoner has not bought fish from me within the last two years—a person named Anderson is in my employ—he was working in the yard—he spit the herrings in the smoke-hourse, Kent Road—he did nothing else—he might load them, I am not there, to see—it was his duty—I heard him give evidence at the police court—he never told me that the prisoner before he took them away said he would pay for the eight boxes—he said at the police court "He asked me to pack eight plain boxes of herrings for the country belonging to Mr. Nash; he said,' 1' ll settle with the governor'"—he was my servant—I paid him a halfpenny a box as a carrier for all he brought over—I paid him no wages—he could not come and deal with me when he liked—he fetched all my goods from the market—at the shop he could come and deal if he chose, but he was not obliged—I never sold him anything in the yard—he could do as he thought proper—he had to come to the shop if he wanted to buy anything—I have not permitted him to sell anything for the last two years—he did not give me the whole of his time—he worked about three hours a day—he never worked long—I have known him about eighteen years—he has been acting for me in this way about fourteen years—I cannot say if he dealt on his own account—he bought some things to send to Maidstone—he was a dealer and sent things to Maidstone, nowhere else that I am aware of—I do not know where he sent—Maidstone was the only place I am aware of—he did deal—I do not know who he dealt with—I have heard him say he dealt at Maidstone, but 1 do not know with whom—I do not know that he has bought things or sent for them from me and paid for them within the last two years—nothing was said of it in the yard—I was on London Bridge on the 3rd, about 7 a.m. I was not with my son Henry when he took them off the barrow, I was afterwards when I went to get the herrings—I got the herrings and went, back to market—I got the prisoner first—he came with the second load—the eight he put on extra for himself were in the second load—then he came back with the second load less the eight boxes.

Re-examined. I told him two years ago not to sell anything—from that time I have occasionally employed him to take the herrings—if he had bought them and had not had the message from me that he was net to buy, 1 should have had the money and could have done nothing—he knew that would be the usual practice—he said nothing to me about buying them—he bad only to take them from one place to the other—he has done it for years and knew what his duty was—he also know what to do if he wished to buy them—I have never had the money for them—he came twice with bloaters from the New Kent Road—he brought 80 boxes with the first load, about 5 a.m.—he would have to go back again with his empty barrow and load

again—he brought 76 with the second load—that was two over the proper number—the eight that were left on the bridge were the same lot of boxes as the others, but were not marked—they were my boxes—it is unusual for people buying them to leave them with some one on the bridge—my boxes are always marked—the eight boxes were not marked because they did it between them.

ROBERT ANDBRSOX . I live at 37, Fox's Buildings, Tabard Street, Borough, and am a fish curer in Mr. Nash's employ—on the morning in question, about 3.30, the prisoner came with a barrow to the Kent Road—I loaded him up with 100 boxes—he came back again with an empty barrow about 5.30 or 5.40, and I put upon it 56 marked boxes and also eight plain boxes similar to this (produced)—I put them on because the prisoner, when he came back again, asked me to pack eight plain boxes for the country and he would settle with the governor—he took with the two loads 156 boxes besides the eight plain ones.

HENRY NASH . I am the prosecutor's son—in consequence of instructions from him, on the morning of the 3rd of March, about 6.45, I watched the prisoner—I first saw the prisoner coming over London Bridge, towards my father's place, with his barrow and some boxes of herrings upon it—no one was with him—he stopped by the steps on the City side and called a man, who took off eight boxes from the barrow—that is one of them—they were all plain—the man put them down and stopped with them—the prisoner went on—I did not follow him; I waited on the bridge to keep the man in sight—I saw a constable and told him of it, and then went back to my father's place—I saw the prisoner unloading the boxes—my father was there—I spoke to him but not in the prisoner's hearing—I said nothing to the prisoner—I went back to the bridge with my father and saw the eight boxes, and the constable had them brought away—the other man was there.

Cross-examined. When I got back my father was in the shop when I spoke to him—we could both see the prisoner unloading—we left him unloading—my father went up to the bridge—he saw him unloading and could have spoken to him—he did not see him afterwards—he could have asked him for an explanation—if he had bought the fish the time to have paid for them would have been when he had completed the unloading—he was not given into custody while unloading—he had been away a long time and came back at 8.30 to the shop and was then given into custody—he offered me the money first for the herrings when the policeman had him—I said that at the police-court—he was not asked for an explanation—the policeman was there—the policeman was opposite when the prisoner came back to the shop, but did not come up directly—the prisoner went into the shop first—I was there with one of the men—he was just outside when he offered me the money—he had been in the shop—it was before the policeman had spoken to him and before he was given in custody—the policeman was there—the prisoner followed me outside the shop and offered me some money before the policeman spoke to him—he said "Here's some money for the eight boxes of herrings"—I said "I am nothing to do with it, I must not take the money"—I had not spoken to him about it, and nobody else had that I know of—no accusation had been made against him then—the policeman was outside and had just come up—he was not in sight—he was walking on the pavement in the ordinary way on his beat—he had come from the station—I did not toll the

prisoner a policeman had been sent for—when the prisoner went into the shop it was not for the purpose of receiving, his halfpenny a box for the work he had done—he asked the man in the shop what the herrings were fetching that morning and was told the price—that is how he would know what the eight boxes were—when ho had found out the price he offered me some money for the eight boxes; the value was 24s.—I do not know how much he offered me, he had his hand closed, but the amount taken out of his hand when ho was taken into custody was 24s.

Re-examined. It was about 8.30 when he came back. HENRY DUKE (City Police Sergeant 71). On the morning in question, about 8.30, I was in Lower Thames Street—I received information from one of the constables in the neighbourhood where the herrings were left, and I went towards the prosecutor's shop—I was in King William Street in sight of the bridge when the other constable in charge of the herrings gave me the information—I know the prisoner by sight, and that he frequents the market—I am frequently on the beat at Billingsgate Market—when I got to the shop the prisoner was on the footway—I said, "About those eight boxes of herrings, Boxer?"—he said, "I am going to pay Mr. Nash for them"—Mr. Nash, senior, came and said, "I give him into custody for stealing eight boxes of herrings"—the prisoner said, "1' ll pay you for them"—this was eight or ten yards from the shop—he was taken to the station and searched—I found upon him 1l. is. 7d.

Cross-examined. I did not see young Mr. Nash or the prisoner in the shop—I did not speak to young Mr. Nash before his father gave the prisoner in custody—he came out of the shop, the prisoner was on the footway—Mr. Nash junior, did not come out before the prisoner was given in custody—I did not see the prisoner tome out—I was nearly opposite on the footway, when I took him—young Mr. Nash was in the shop and came out afterwards—he did not come and join in the conversation or go to the station—Mr. Nash, senior, went with me—the prisoner did not tell me he had just offered to pay young Mr. Nash—I did not see any money in his hand—I did not tell Mr. Nash, he had said he was going to pay for them—Nash gave him into custody, and I arrested him—he ii not to my knowledge take any means to find out that he had offered to pay for them.

The Prisoner received a good character.

NOT GUILTY .

415. THOMAS CONNORS (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Turnham, with intent to steal therein.

MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; and MR. A. METCALFE Defended.

JAMES CARAHER (Policeman 8 306). About 3,30 a.m., March 8th, I was in George Street, Euston Road, near the Orange Tree public-house—the door of the billiard-room stands in from the footpath—I heard a noise inside—I listened for a few moments and saw the prisoner come out from the billiard-room door, with another man not in custody—on seeing me they ran towards Gower Street; I pursued the prisoner and called out, "Stop thief?"—he ran against a lamp-post and I caught him—I was in plain clothes and told him I was a constable—I took him back to the house—I found the billiard-room door open; I woke up the landlord—I found the lock of the door had been wrenched off; on the mat inside the door I found this jemmy (produced)—I took the prisoner to the station with the assistance of another constable, and charged him with breaking and entering the prosecutor's dwelling-house

—he said nothing; I found on him this latch-key, a pocket-knife and tobacco pouch (produced)—I found by the door this part of the lock wrenched off—I never lost sight of him.

Cross-examined. I was standing close to the door when they came out—it is the opposite side of the Euston Road to Gower Street—it was not very dark—I had a walking stick—the one who escaped turned towards King's Cross; I did not try to keep him in sight—I called out, "Stop thief!"—nobody attempted to assist me; no one followed till I brought him back to the door—I struck him on the right arm as he was running—I have had instructions to strike people to prevent them escaping when we are running after them—it was a clear bright night.

Re-examined. I gave evidence at the police-court on the 8th—I have not been reprimanded for my evidence there—the lamps were lit—I saw the two men come out of the house—no other persons were near—they ran off on seeing me, and I followed one of them and caught him—the prisoner it the man.

ROBERT TURNHAM . My son Robert Ferdinand Turnham is now ill—I saw him this morning—he is attended by Dr. Mullens, of Gower Street—I have obtained this certificate from him—this is his signature—my son is not in a condition to leave his bed or to come into a court of justice to give evidence.

JAMES CARAHER (Re-examined). I saw Robert Ferdinand Turnham called at the police-court—he was duly sworn—after his evidence had been taken the prisoner was asked if he had any question to put—he did not put any questions—the prisoner had an opportunity of cross-examining him.

(Deposition read: "Robert Ferdinand Turnham on his oath saith, I am the son of the last witness. At a quarter to 12 I locked the door leading into George Street; about 12 1 locked the inner door leading to the billiard-room. The other doors and windows were all fastened.—Signed, Robert Turnham.")

ROBERT TURNHAM (Re-examined). I am the proprietor of the Orange Tree—I was disturbed about 3 o'clock by a constable—I went downstairs and found the front private door unfastened and the lock wrenched off—nothing was gone, and nothing disturbed—the billiard-room is attached to and forms portion of the house.

JAMES GATLAND (Police Inspector S). About 9 a.m. on the 8th March I received some information and examined the premises of the Orange Tree, and found that an entry had been made by getting over a fence in the Euston Road crossing the backs of other houses—there is a back door—entering this door and passing through the passage, the billiard-room is on the left—this lock had been forced off the door leading into George Street—I compared this jemmy with the mark on the box of the lock here, and find it exactly corresponds.

Cross-examined. I am the Inspector of the district—I know the establish ment of Mr. Hawkins, the contractor for the Midland Railway—his works begin sometimes about 4 or 5 o'clock—he has one place in Osnaburg Street, a little over a quarter of a mile distant.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was going to look after some work at Mr. Hawkins's, Mecklenberg Street—I heard the cry of stop thief. He halloed out to me to stop him. There was a chap running When ho came up to me he hit me across the back. He was going to hit

me again, when I said, 'Don't hit me again, I'll come if you have anything to take me for. He took me back to the Orange Tree, and from there to Albany Street."

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months Imprisonment.

416. FREDERICK WYTHE (36), Feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Jane Harris, and stealing an overcoat and other articles, the goods of Louis David Franklin. Second count for receiving the same.

MR. RAVEN Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended. LOUIS DAVID FRANKLIN. I am out of business, and lodge at 14, South Moulton Street—I know nothing of the prisoner—on the 20th of February in consequence of a statement made to me I examined my rooms about 9 o'clock a.m.—I missed several meerschaum pipes, five or six pairs of boots and shoes, three overcoats, a pair of opera glasses, a pair of plated candid—sticks, two cigar cases, an umbrella, and a walking-stick, value altogether about 25l.—I identify this meerschaum cigar holder, overcoat, umbrella, and walking-stick—I saw them safe the night previous to the 20th February, about midnight, before I went to bed.

FRANK FLETCHER . I am a pawnbroker, of 14, Milburn Street—this over-coat and cigar-holder were pledged with me by the prisoner on 20th February in the name of John French, 4, Grafton Street, about 10 a.m.—he said "Will you lend me more money on the cigar-holder if I want it? I have had more on it several times"—I said "If you come in the afternoon I have no doubt I can"—I lent him 10s. on each—soon after he went Sergeant Pickles came in and brought something to me, and from what he said I produced the goods to him—the prisoner came again directly after 3 o'clock—we got him round to the private office, sent for a constable, and handed him over.

Cross-examined. When he came in the afternoon he did not ask me to get the cigar-holder out as he could sell it for more money—we had a good deal of conversation—he came in for more money on the cigar-holder—that was not in the police list.

JANE HARRIS . I live at 14, South Moulton Street—Mr. Franklin is my lodger—I went round the house on the evening of the 19th—everything was quite safe—I saw it all closed at 11 o'clock—at 6.30 a.m. I was getting up and heard the street-door slammed—on going to Mr. Franklin's room at 8 o'clock I found the key turned outside his door, and he was locked in his room—I went in and saw some things on the table—his tobacco jar was emptied out, and the two lids lay there—a basket was standing on the table—he has a sitting-room and a bedroom communicating—they look out at the back—he was not out of his room that morning—I have other lodgers.

Cross-examined. The other lodgers are gentlemen—the first thing that directed my attention was a candle lying in a candlestick—the street—door shut very loud—when I came down I found the sitting-room door locked.

THOMAS PICKLES (Police Sergeant C). On the 20th, about 4 p.m., I went with Mr. Franklin to the prisoner's lodgings, 38, Wardour Street, Soho—I knew he was lodging there—I found one coat, one umbrella, and walking-stick, which Mr. Franklin at once identified—the prisoner occupied a room on the top front.

Cross-examined. There are two other rooms on the first-floor occupied by other lodgers.

FRANK FLETCHER (Re-examined). When the prisoner came in the afternoon he did not say he wanted the holder out because he could sell it—he said "I want some more money on the cigar-holder"—I said "I could not lend you any more on it"—he said "Very well, if you cannot I will take it out"—I said "Then will you go round into the private office"—he went and was arrested there—he paid the 10s.—I kept the cigar case—the goods were not in the first list in the morning—they were in the special inquiry which came round about 11 o'clock.

GUILTY on the Second Count . He was farther charged with a previous conviction of felony in June, 1869, at this Court, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.

He received a good character.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

417. GEORGE BROWN (26) and WILLIAM ECCLES (23) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Ephraim Pope, and stealing therein two pairs of boots and other articles, his property, to which

BROWN PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. D. METCALFE Prosecuted.

EPHRAIM POPE . I am a twine merchant's traveller, of 5, Stock-orchard Street, Islington—on the 11th March, between 4 and 5 am., 1 was aroused by a lodger, Miss Edwards—I went downstairs—I had locked the place securely the night before, barred the shutters, and bolted the doors—I found the kitchen window open and the blinds torn down—an entrance had, I suppose, been made that way—the kitchen and breakfast-parlour were in great confusion—in the kitchen were signs of a meal having taken place; they had had cold meat, bread and jam, and cheese, and had evidently been enjoying themselves—I missed a great-coat, a black frock-coat, a pair of boots of mine and a pair of my son's, a meerschaum pipe, and a top coat of my eon's—from the parlour two writing desks and a workbox; an electro-plated cruet-stand and teapot had been brought down into the breakfast-parlour—they had broken open one writing-desk and scattered all the letters and papers—the value of the property was 4l. or 5l.—this is my top coat and frock-coat, and these are my boots.

ELLEN RATE EDWARDS . I live with my parents at the prosecutor's house—my father, William Edwards, is a lodger—I was up till quite 1 o'clock the night before, and looked at the doors before going upstairs, and they were secure—in the morning, between 4 and 5,1 was called up, and heard a scuffle outside the house, and heard a policeman call "Stop thief"—I went down to the breakfast room—Mrs. Pope's teapot and cruet stand were on the table—I missed two gold rings, a brooch, a vest, and a pair of trousers.

WILLIAM BARKER (Policeman Y 335). I was on duty in Stock-orchard Street on 11th March between 4 and 5 a.m.—I heard a noise in No. 5—I went in at the front gate and stepped into the passage—there is a small garden in front and a passage at the side of the house leading to the rear—I stood a second or two, when I saw Eceles come out in front of me at the side door, 8 yards from where I stood, and Brown following him—they turned and looked at me, and instantly ran into the back garden—I followed with my truncheon in my hand—they ran to the end of the garden, dodging about from side to side—I kept in a line with the passage, which was the only easy way of escape from the garden, which is surrounded by a wall

about 5 1/2 feet high, with about 3 feet of wire on the top—Brown attempted to get over the wall at the left-hand corner—Eccles then dodged in front of me and tried to pass me—I shouted out to him two or three times, "Stop, or I'll knock you down"—he attempted to pass me and I struck him with the truncheon across the back—he doubled back and rushed towards me, and attempted to catch hold of me, and he dodged past me up the passage, which is about 4 feet wide—Brown followed him, and I caught him by the collar at the end of the passage—I had a good opportunity of seeing Eccles's face—I next saw him on the morning of the 14th at the Caledonian Road Police-station with four others, and identified him at once—I had before that given a description of him—he is the same man.

Cross-examined by Eccles, I described you as about 25 years of age, no whiskers or moustache, wearing a long dark coot and a hard felt hat—I saw your side face and full face several times—I did not say at the police-station that it was foggy—it was dull and had been raining.

SUSAN CURTIS . I live at 56, Flower and Bean Street—Eccles used to come and sleep there—I remember seeing him on Tuesday, March 11th, a fortnight before I was examined at the police-court—he came into the kitchen—I was lying on a form as I was unwell, and had only come out of the hospital on the Monday—he said to me,"Susan, how are you?"—I said "I am better, thank you"—he said "I have been walking a very long way; my boots hurt my feet; would you mind pledging them for me t"—I pledged them—he said "Ask 6s. on them"—I said "What name shall I put them in?"—he said "William Eccles"—these are the boots I.

Cross-examined by Eccles. I saw you take the boots off in the kitchen—you did not bring them in your hand—there was no other man in but you—I was in the kitchen on the form—you did not give me anything—I came hack, and you were sitting in the kitchen without boots.

JOSEPH JONES . I am a pawnbroker, of 31, Church Street, Spitalfields—I produce this pair of boots pawned by the last witness on 11th March in the name of Susan Hickels, 6, Paternoster Row, for 5s. 6d.

ALFRED POPE . I am the son of Mr. Ephraim Pope, and live in the same house, 5, Stock-orchard Street—these boots are mine—I saw them safe on the Tuesday morning between 12 and 1—I went to bed about 12.40 a.m., and missed them next morning.

WILLIAM WITHAM (Police Sergeant Y). About 11.30 p.m. on the 10th March I was at our Caledonian Road Police-station, 300 or 400 yards from where the burglary took place—I saw the prisoners pass on the opposite side—I crossed over to them—I followed them 100 or 150 yards—they were talking to each other—my attention was called because they looked at the station, and I looked at them and went across to them—I followed them to the lamp-post and had a good look at them.

Cross-examined by Eccles. 'I am certain you are the men—I identify you by your face—you both turned your faces and looked at me as I walked beside you.

WILLIAM THICK (Police Sergeant H). I received a description of a man from Barker on the 12th March—I apprehended Eccles at 11.45 on the 14th March at 56, Flower and Dean Street, Whitechapel—I took him to the station and charged him—I said "I have arrested you for being concerned with a man in custody named Walter in committing a burglary on the 11th in Caledonian Road"—he made no reply—he was afterwards put with

four other men, and Barker picked him out at once—the charge was read over—he said "I am innocent."

Cross-examined by Eccles. I received the information from Barker—he gave me this description:. ("Memorandum. Wanted for a burglary, man aged 22; height 5ft. 4in.; hair dark; full face; dress dark; overcoat; two pairs of light trousers, black felt hat, laced boots. Supposed to be going towards Whitechapel, where he lives in a common lodging-house, and known by the name of Barber.")—I received that for a description of you—when I came to the lodging-house I said I wanted you for the militia—I had a reason for saying that.

Re-examined. I told him that at the place where I arrested him—I should not have been able to have taken him out if I had told him what I wanted him for, because it is a place where thieves and roughs are—I should not have been able to get out with my life—there are about twenty lodging-houses there.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "On 11th March Detective Thick came into the lodging-house kitchen, and said he wanted me for the militia. I said I did not belong to the militia. He said 1 must go to the station, I went, and he there said I should be charged with burglary. I was taken in a cab to Caledonian Road Police-station. There they stood me beside four mem I was the only man who had a hard felt hat on and a long coat, so the policeman had nothing to do but say 'That's him.' As for the woman saying I gave her the boots to pawn, I was sitting in the kitchen on Tuesday when a man came in and wanted to sell these boots. 1 asked him what he wanted; he said 5s. I tried them on to see if they'd fit me, and said, 'Go and pawn them for that money.' I then went into the kitchen to this woman, and said, 'Will you pawn these boots for this man?' She knew that they were mine. She brought the ticket back, and the money, and gave them to me. The man was standing there, which she must have seen. I gave the man the money, and he treated me to some beer."

Eccles in his Defence made a similar statement.

ECCLES— GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony in March, 1876, at Clerkenwell, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY**†.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.

BROWN— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Friday, April 4th 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

418. ALFRED WILLIAM MARSHALL (31) , Embezzling the sums of 100l. on 26th November, 100l. on 7th December, and 74l. 16s. 6d. on 31st December, the property of a copartnership between himself, William Houghton, and Edwin Adolphus Ross Crusoe.

MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.

EDWIN ADOLPHUS ROSS CrUSOE . I am a wine merchant, living at Xeres in Spain—I have carried on business there for many years dealing in the wines of Spain—at the end of October last year I consigned four hogsheads and eight quarter casks of sherry to Marshall and Co., of 10 and 11, Mincing Lane—the average value would be from 15l. to 20l. a hogshead, and the quarter cask about 7l. or 7l. 10a, exclusive of duty, freight, and dock charges—after that parcel was sent off I came to England, and saw the

prisoner at his place of business, 10 and 11, Mincing Line—he had two rooms there—I saw a man named Houghton on that occasion—he was the first I saw—I negotiated with both of them, and it resulted in this agreement—I saw them both sign it, and I signed a duplicate, and left it with them. (This was dated 8th November, 1878, and was an agreement between the witness, Houghton, and the prisoner, the witness to send wine from Spain to the vulue of at least 3,000l., Marshall and Co. to provide 2,0002. for carrying on the business in England.) That agreement was signed at Mr. Foster's office, solicitor, Gracechurch Street—before it was signed I had visited the prisoner at his then residence, 23, Royal Crescent, Notting Hill; it was a good house well furnished—he was living there with his wife—I was his guest there for a few days—he gave me to understand that he was a merchant, in the wine business—I don't recollect exactly the words he made use of—a verbal arrangement was made as to the way in which the capital was to be supplied by him—I was to draw upon him from 500l. to 600l. at three months date; that was the first instalment he wanted to make of the 2,000l.—I did draw three bills, the first for 250l., dated November 26th, and the others for 150l. and 100l., dated December 4th, all at three months, and the firm Marshall and Co. accepted them—I don't know who wrote the acceptances. I was not over here; they were payable at the South Western Bank—the first one would be due on March 1st—I was then in Xeres—it came back protested—I have never received a shilling of it, or a shilling in respect of the capital—after making this partnership agreement I returned to Xeres—I think I left here on November 19th, and got there five days after—the small parcel I had sent in October was included in the general arrangement; it was to be sold on the joint account—I afterwards sent over eight hogsheads and 24 quarter casks of sherry in one shipment to the value of about 300l.—the total number I sent was 16 hogsheads and 40 quarter casks, the cost price being about 420l. or 440l.—I subsequently came over to England again, and went to the bonded warehouses belonging to Mr. Alderman Breffit—I there saw all the casks and counted them—I recognised every one; they were all marked with my own brand—on February 10th, while I was in Spain, I received this letter from my partner. (This was dated February 5th 1879, from the Prisoner, stating that Houghton had gone to the Cape, leaving things in confusion, and being indebted to the Prisoner; that he did not see his way to meeting the drafts at maturity, and asking the Prosecutor if he could renew for two months.) I had not had any previous notification of Houghton's departure for the Cape—I left Spain on 6th March and arrived in London on, Sunday the 16th, and on the Monday I went to Mincing Lane—the prisoner was not there—after waiting upwards of two hours I left a card stating that I was going to his private residence—I went there—he was not there—I did not go in—there was a gentleman there taking an inventory of the furniture—I then returned to Mincing Line and found the prisoner at his office—I asked him if the two bills that were still running, the 150l. and 100l., had been paid—he said they had not—they had been returned to Spain—I told him I had received the 250l. bill—I had already written to him—I asked him then if the wines were free, meaning if they were unencumbered—to the best of my recollection he said they were free—he said he thought he could get over his difficulties and I promised to see him next day—I did see him next day at the same place—I then asked him if he could make up my private account, and

said "I wish to give you a cheque for the amount"—he said, "Houghton has left the accounts in such a confused state I am unable to make it out"—I asked if he did not keep a cash book—he said "No"—I saw him again next afternoon, Wednesday, at the same place, and I again asked him for the account—he did not give me any—what I meant by my private account was this, when I was over here I took 20l. on going back to Spain for my personal expenses, and he had paid two or three small accounts for me—the maximum amount was about 47l.—that was perfectly apart from the business; it was for my own private purpose—it was on the Friday that I discovered that the wines were at Mr. Alderman Breffit's when I asked the prisoner for a sample order; he gave me the order, but then stated that the wines were under advance to the extent of 300l.—I expressed my surprise—he then told me the wines were at Dowgate Bonded Warehouse; that is Mr. Alderman Breffi t's place, and I went there and saw the Alderman—I don't think I saw the prisoner again—I went to a solicitor that same day, and the prisoner was given into custody on the Monday afterwards; I charged him with embezzling the partnership property—I did not see him before that—when I went to his office on the Friday he was tearing up papers—since he was in custody my clerks at Xeres sent me this letter—I received it the day before yesterday; it is the prisoner's writing. (Read: "March 12, 1879. My dear Crusoe,—Just a line, for poet time is nearly up. I have a party with large means who will take the management here in place of self or Houghton with your consent, &c. He has 20,000l., and will open a banking account for this purpose with 1,000l. or so.—Yours very truly, A. Marshall.") Moneys received were to be paid to the joint account between myself and A. Marshall and Co.—there was no banking account—the prisoner never sent me any accounts—he never informed me of any pledging with Alderman Breffit—I have never seen any books of account—I accompanied each of my consignments with invoices—there was an invoice of the shipping price of the wine, and in the body of the letter the joint account was debited with the actual cost—I never had any negotiation as to any one else coming into the concern, nor did I ever hear the name of any party.

Cross-examined. The first parcel of goods I transmitted to the firm I transmitted to them as commission agents; that amounted to about 60l.—there was another small parcel after that, before the partnership, of about 100l.—those were subsequently brought into the general agreement—the last clause in the agreement was added after it was drawn, because I objected to the word "agent;" this is the clause: "This agreement shall be held to constitute a partnership between the said parties so far as regards the business and agency hereby established, and the term agent and agency shall not be held to contravene this clause, but shall have the same construction as if the word 'partnership' should be used in lieu thereof"—I was to put 3,000l. into the business, in wines, casks, and plant, not in money—I was to send the wines and be at the expense of shipping them, and the expenses here were to be paid by Marshall and Co.—they were to provide 2,000l. in cash by instalments at certain times, as it might be agreed upon—they authorised me to draw on them to the amount of 5,000l., on account of their capital—when I first saw Marshall my inquiry was about the bills, because I had to make arrangements for them—I did not ask him to guarantee the two unpaid bills, I swear that—I stated before the—Magistrate, "I am

not aware that I asked him to guarantee the two unpaid bills"—I was sure of it, and I am certain now—I have not been accustomed to be in a Court of Justice before—I have no recollection of adding, "I won't swear I did not"—I might have been a little confused that day, but I am almost certain I did not ask him; I am certain I did not—I charged the wine to them at cost price—the office rent was to be paid by them, and the incidental expenses—the prisoner's first proposition was to work as an agent—in one or two letters he complained of the bad state of business—there was a person present at the office on the Friday, I don't know who he was—the prisoner made a proposition to me, which I rejected; he wrote it down on a piece of paper, and wanted me to sign it—he produced it to the Magistrate—I don't recollect what I said when I went into the office on the Friday; it was with regard to the accounts, if he had anything to show me, any statement of accounts, and he gave the same answer, that he had not been able to make up any accounts—then, I believe, he showed me the paper he had drawn up, and asked if I would agree to that—this is it (Read: "March 21, 1879. Dear Sir,—In consideration of your delivering to me the wines at present in Dowgate Dock shipped by me to you, I agree to discharge you from all liability between us under our deed of partnership, and to discharge and indemnify you for all acceptances you have given me, amounting to 615l.; and further, that this delivery and arrangement shall be considered a settlement of all claims between us and put an end to the partnership; and I further agree to discharge on my own account the advances you have received from Messrs. Breffit and Co., and release you from all liability in reference thereto.") That was his proposition, to which I objected—he said something about a fresh partner with capital to come into the business; I think he said he had a person who would come in with capital and take Houghton's place, but I never saw that person, nor did he introduce him to me—I don't recollect that ho mentioned the name of Collins to me—he said he had claims against me for expenses over here; he did not say what those claims were—I think this conversation was on the Wednesday or Friday as he was given into custody on the Monday.

Re-examined. I had nothing to do with the composition of this document that has been produced; it was written out by the prisoner—I believe he bad got it ready written when he showed it to me—it was his proposition—I would not sign it—I have never had a shilling except the private loan when the partnership was entered into.

ALDERMAN EDGAR BREFFIT . I am one of the proprietors of the Dowgate Dock Bonded Warehouses, Upper Thames Street—on 26th November I advanced 100l. by this cheque on wines that were in the London Dock; the cheque is on Barclay, Bevan, and Co., payable to Messrs. A. Marshall and Co., and is endorsed "A. Marshall and Co." and "A. Marshall"—I have no doubt I saw the prisoner in reference to the advance; I saw him before I signed the cheque, at some part of the negotiation with regard to the removal of the wine—it was cleared by a clerk in the wharf office—the matter came to me for my consent and approval—I made some inquiry of the prisoner as to his power to obtain an advance on this wine, and he offered to produce the deed of partnership; he brought it to the office; at all events he made me acquainted with the contents—he said he wished the wine transferred from the London Docks to our warehouse, but I told him it was a foolish expense to move it from one place to another—on 6th

December I saw him again, and advanced another 100l. on a further parcel—he gave me these receipts on 26th November and 6th December—(These were signed A. Marshall and Co.)—I gave him a crossed cheque on 6th December, and he brought it to the office and said he had no banking account, and it would be more convenient if it was paid over the counter and I made it open—on 30th December I made a further advance by this cheque for 74l. 16s. 6d.—the same wines have been since shown to Mr. Crusoe.

WILLIAM GEORGE WALKER . I am cashier to Messrs. Breffit—I carried out some of the details of these advances—the prisoner is the man who came; he signed this receipt in my presence—I supplied him with some bottles to the value of 10l.—they have not been paid for. Herbert Parkinson Stone. I am ledger-keeper at the London and South-Western Bank, Shepherd's Bush branch—an account was opened there by the prisoner on 5th October—he gave his signature then—he was described as a merchant, his address 23, Royal Crescent, Notting Hill—the account was closed on 4th February—14s. 9d. was then standing to his credit, subject to charges—the endorsements to the three cheques of Alder-man Breffit are the prisoner's writing—the two open ones came through our head office—the account was the account of Marshall alone—the signature to these receipts are his writing. J—N—F—ESTOMAN. I am the tenant of 23, Royal Crescent, Notting Hill—the furniture there is mine—I let the house furnished to the prisoner in August; he occupied it from 19th August till some day in March—when he came he said he was one of the head assistants at the Stationers' School.

RICHARD SMITH . I am housekeeper at the offices 10 and 11 Mincing Lane; the prisoner occupied two rooms on the second floor at a rental of 100l. a year—he was occupying up to the time of his being taken into custody—there are merely a lot of boxes and bottles belong to Alderman Breffit left in the offices now.

JAMES BRETT (City Officer). On Monday, 24th March, I was called to 10 and 11, Mincing Lane, and the prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Crusoe for embezzling partnership moneys—he said, "Can't I make any defence?"—at the station he was asked his address; he said, "I have no fixed residence, I never sleep two nights in the same place."

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth and the laxity of the arrangements made by the Prosecutor: The Prosecutor also recommended him to mercy .— Six Months Imprisonment.

419. GEORGE FROST (52) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences a quantity of meat from Henry Alfred Kimbell and others.

MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. HORACE Avory Defended.

HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I am one of the clerks of the London Banking Company—I produce two files of proceedings in the composition of George Frost, one of the 27th April, 1878; on the file is a bill of costs of Scott and Baker, solicitors to the debtor, and a certified appointment of William Henry Pannell as trustee—on 6th June, 1878, there is also a transcript of shorthand notes of examination of the debtor of 11th February, 1879.

Cross-examined. There is also an examination of 21 June, 1878—there is an order of the Court authorising this prosecution, dated 18th March,

1879—that was not on the file when I was at the police court—I have the file of the proceedings in 1875—a composition of 5s. in the pound was then agreed to, payable at 3, 6, 9, and 12 months.

GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL , I am one of official shorthand writers to the Court of Bankruptcy—the transcripts of notes referred to by Mr. Stacey were made by me from the shorthand notes—they are correct.

WILLIAM BREWER , I am manager of the Camden Town branch of the London and South Western Bank—the prisoner and his brother were customers before the composition of December, 1875—we were creditors partially secured—after that composition the prisoner opened an account with us as George Frost—"this is his pass-book for 1878—since the beginning of 1878 I saw him when he was in the bank—I remonstrated with him on the way in which he was conducting his account, the cheques being returned and dishonoured—I can't remember when that was, I take it it would be before March, 1878—there were some assets, but not sufficient—this (produced) is the returned cheque book, it is not kept by me but by different clerks—this 20l. cheque of 5th April, drawn by George Frost in favour of "Market," was presented at our bank and marked "refer to drawer"—he had drawn it for more than he had—this one of 6th April for 24l. 17s. 11d. in favour of Higginbotham is the prisoner's writing, that was returned "not sufficient"—this 10l. cheque of 26th April in favour of "Market" was dishonoured—the last money paid in to the credit of the account was 37l. 6s. 2d. on 23rd April—the balance at the end of that day was 8l. 9s. 11d.—at the time of closing the account it stood at 71. 8s. 11d., 11. 1s. was deducted for charges—no cheque was paid after that—on the morning of the 5th April the balance was 8l. 7s., and at the end of the day 4l. 0s. 7d.—at the end of the 12th it was 3l. 6s. 10d., and on the 20th 11. 3s. 9d.

Cross-examined. Before the failure in 1875 we were partially secured—we allowed him to overdraw against the securities we held—I can't tell whether it was to the extent of 200l. or 300l. without referring to my books, and they are not here—I can't tell whether it was as much as 700l.—from the commencement of the new account we charged him three guineas a quarter for keeping it; that was because he did not keep a sufficient balance—I believe that charge was made up to April last year—there was no arrangement made for him to overdraw; he was not allowed to over-draw; it was done with my sanction—I don't think it was done several times—on 11th March, he was overdrawn 6l. 11s. with my sanction—that is the time I refer to—I allowed the cheque to be paid—there appear to be only two cases from January 1, 1878—he may have overdrawn 3l. or 4l. in 1877 with' my sanction—by my ledger I should say he was not overdrawn at any time during 5th April, I can't be positive—I should say it was not overdrawn 13l. during that day—looking at the pass-book on 1st April the balance begins with 14l. 8s. 5d. on the credit side, and on the 5th it is overdrawn 13l. 5s. 5d.—the credits amount to 147l. 15s. 10s., and the debits to 161l. 1s. 3d.—I must compare this with the ledger—by the ledger the cheque entered in the pass-book on the 5th appears to be paid on the 6th—I think the ledger is correct, because the entries are made there first—the pass-book is made up from the ledger—it is a clerical error there—I have no recollection of having any communication with the prisoner after the date I have already mentioned—I cannot tell whether I communicated

to him the fact of the overdraft on the 11th—I have no belief either way, it is not the custom to do so.

Re-examined. I did not to my recollection allow the account to be over-drawn 20l. in 1878—I could not have allowed it—the prisoner's statement in the liquidation proceedings in 1875 shows the securities we held—we were losers by that liquidation—from that time I gave no authority to the prisoner to overdraw.

JOHN KING . I am clerk to Mr. Kimbell, of 50, Metropolitan Meat Market—I had some few transactions with Frost prior to 5th April—this 20l. cheque in favour of "Market" was brought to me by a person named Tailby, who I knew as the prisoner's servant—he took goods to the value of 8l. 18s. 3d., and 11l. 1s., 9d. change—I believed the cheque to be a good and valid one, or I would not have parted with the goods and cash—the cheque was sent through the bank and was dishonoured—we have never been paid.

Cross-examined. I had had something over a dozen dealings with Frost or his man before—they had been invariably paid by cheque or cash—they were nearly all paid at the time to the best of my recollection—I first knew the prisoner at the latter part of 1876, it might be in 1877—I do not know his brother and nephews in the market personally; I know they are there, and that they are respectable and substantial men—there are two separate firms of that name—tins was a crossed cheque.

JAMES HIGGINBOTHAM . I am a meat salesman in Smithfield Market—I was a creditor of Frost's in 1875 for 10l. 5s.—I accepted a composition of 5s. in the pound—after that he paid ready money for what he had for some time, then he got onto credit—on 6th April he had goods to the amount of 24l. 17s. 11d., for which he gave me this cheque—I paid it into my bank, and it was dishonoured—I wrote to him about it, and saw him the following week, and he gave me another cheque instead of this, dated 13th April; he did not get any goods at that time; he had had some goods before the first cheque came back—while I was away the second cheque came back too—I have not been paid anything—he owes me the 24l. 17s. 11d. and 12l. 15s. 2d. for goods had on 1st April Cross-examined. The first-cheque of 6th April was given for an amount that was owing, not for goods supplied that day, but for goods had on 27th and 30th March—he had had credit before—there was no special arrangement as to the length of credit—he was supposed to pay in the course of the week—the transactions generally took place on the Friday, and he paid the following Friday—he has paid me all except the composition on the first occasion—the 6th April was on a Friday—the cheque came back on the following Tuesday—I expect I wrote to him the same day, to say that it was returned—it was exactly a week after that he gave me the other cheque—I have no recollection of his saying that trade was bad, and he could not get his money in—I might have stated so at the Bankruptcy Court—when he gave me the second cheque he left the other with me—I have not had any dividend under this liquidation, or heard of any—I only know by hear—say that Mr. Pannell was put in to manage the business in the beginning of May—I know Peter Tocher—I have not seen him here to-day—the first I heard of criminal proceedings against the prisoner was when I was summoned to the Bankruptcy Court—I was not consulted about it beforehand—I am no party to this prosecution, no more than being subpoenaed as a witness.

WILLIAM JAMES TWIGG . I am a meat salesman in the Central Meat Market—I was aware of George Frost's composition in 1876—I was not a creditor—after that he was a customer, but very rarely, for cash only—on 26th April this cheque was brought to my place by his man between 7 and 9 am.—it was crossed as it is now—he got meat to the value of about 41 odd and the balance 5l. 16s. 2d.—I believed the cheque to be a good and valid one—I would not have trusted him if I had not had the cheque—I paid it in to my banker's, and it was sent back dishonoured.

Cross-examined, I have known him since 1870 as a butcher carrying on his business; he had a large business before 1875—I know his brother and his nephews in the market; they are meat salesmen like myself—I have never to my knowledge allowed him to have goods without his paying cash or a cheque, I don't remember his having goods in the morning and paying for them in the afternoon—I expected the cheque was a good one or I should not have taken it; of course I should not have parted with the meat if I fiad thought there was not 10l. in the bank to meet it; that was what induced me to part with it, no other inducement—it is not unusual for a butcher to tend his man to market with 10l. to buy where he can, some of ma and some of somebody else.

JOHN VENABLES . I am a meat salesman—I was a creditor under the old composition, and with the others signed the agreement to be paid a composition—I had a cheque from Frost on 12th March for 30l.; it was at first returned dishonoured, and afterwards paid, I can't exactly say when, it was put on the meat he bought—I am a creditor for 30l. odd—I have got no dishonoured cheque, I sent a 31l. cheque back to him and told him about it and put it on his meat bill—I have had dishonoured cheques, but they have always been paid—the 31l. odd was for meat; that was the last transaction—he did not send another cheque for it—all the cheques I have bad from him I have sent back to him and he has paid me—I have at times bad conversation with him about his credit, when he has been rather slack of payment—I said "My account is rather heavy, I wish you would give me a cheque," because he has owed me 150l. or 200l. many tunes—I said "There are one or two of your cheques returned, I would not go on like this if I were you"—the 30l. cheque of 12th March was not presented again and dishonoured, it was never presented again—the cheque was to go in on the Monday, and he telegraphed to me before 9 o'clock not to send it in, and I did not; I sent it in on the Tuesday and it was paid—I can't say whether the 30l. cheque was sent in again on the 26th March and dishonoured—I have, perhaps, had several 30l. cheques of his dishonoured, but I have always had the money for them; I dare say I had three or four in March—when I told him about the dishonouring of the cheques he said that his customers did not pay, and trade was bad, and all those excuses—he could not say anything else.

Cross-examined. He has owed me as much as 150l. and more, and he has always paid me; he paid me 75l. a month before he filed his petition, and he owed me 31l. odd; my lawyer wanted to sue him, and I said "No, it it be,"I had such confidence in him—I first heard of these criminal proceedings about a month ago—I was not consulted at all before they were taken; I did not give my consent to it—I proved.

Re-examined. I ceased to supply him on credit about two months ago. Alfred Barker, I am cashier at the London and South-Western Bank

to him the fact of the overdraft on the 11th—I have no belief either way, it is not the custom to do so.

Re-examined. I did not to my recollection allow the account to be overdrawn 20l. in 1878—I could not have allowed it—the prisoner's statement in the liquidation proceedings in 1875 shows the securities we held—we were losers by that liquidation—from that time I gave no authority to the prisoner to overdraw.

JOHN KING . I am clerk to Mr. Kimbell, of 50, Metropolitan Meat Market—I had some few transactions with Frost prior to 5th April—this 20l. cheque in favour of "Market" was brought to me by a person named Tailby, who I knew as the prisoner's servant—he took goods to the vaiue of 8l. 18s. 3d. and 11l. 1s. 9d. change—I believed the cheque to be a good and valid one, or I would not have parted with the goods and cash—the cheque was sent through the bank and was dishonoured—we have never been paid.

Cross-examined. I had had something over a dozen dealings with Frost or his man before—they had been invariably paid by cheque or cash—they were nearly all paid at the time to the best of my recollection—I first knew the prisoner at the latter part of 1876, it might be in 1877—I do not know his brother and nephews in the market personally; I know they are there, and that they are respectable and substantial men—there are two separate firms of that name—this was a crossed cheque.

JAMES HIGGINBOTHAM . I am a meat salesman in Smithfield Market—I was a creditor of Frost's in 1875 for 10l. 5s.—I accepted a composition of 5s. in the pound—after that he paid ready money for what he had for some time, then he got on to credit—on 6th April he had goods to the amount of 24l. 17s. 11d., for which he gave me this cheque—I paid it into my bank, and it was dishonoured—I wrote to him about it, and saw him the following week, and he gave me another cheque instead of this, dated 13th April; he did not get any goods at that time; he had had some goods before the first cheque came back—while I was away the second cheque came back too—I have not been paid anything—he owes me the 24l. 17s. 11d. and 12l. 15s. 2d. for goods had on 1st April.

Cross-examined. The first cheque of 6th April was given for an amount that was owing, not for goods supplied that day, but for goods had on 27th and 30th March—he had had credit before—there was no special arrangement as to the length of credit—he was supposed to pay in the course of the week—the transactions generally took place on the Friday, and he paid the following Friday—he has paid me all except the composition on the first occasion—the 6th April was on a Friday—the cheque came back on the following Tuesday—I expect I wrote to him the same day, to say that it was returned—it was exactly a week after that he gave me the other cheque—I have no recollection of his saying that trade was bad, and he could not get his money in—I might have stated so at the Bankruptcy Court—when lie gave me the second cheque he left the other with me—I have not had any dividend under this liquidation, or heard of any—I only know by hear—say that Mr. Pannell was put in to manage the business in the beginning of May—I know Peter Tocher—I have not seen him here to-day—the first I heard of criminal proceedings against the prisoner was when I was summoned to the Bankruptcy Court—I was not consulted about it beforehand—I am no party to this prosecution, no more than being subpoenaed as a witness.

WILLIAM JAMES TWIGG . I am a meat salesman in the Central Meat Market—I was aware of George Frost's composition in 1876—I was not a creditor—after that he was a customer, but very rarely, for cash only—on 26th April this cheque was brought to my place by his man between 7 and 9 a.m.—it was crossed as it is now—he got meat to the value of about 4l. odd and the balance 5l. 16s. 2d.—I believed the cheque to be a good and valid one—I would not have trusted him if I had not had the cheque—I paid it in to my banker's, and it was sent back dishonoured.

Cross-examined. I have known him since 1875 as a butcher carrying on his business; he had a large business before 1875—I know his brother and his nephews in the market; they are meat salesmen like myself—I have never to my knowledge allowed him to have goods without his paying cash or a cheque, I don't remember his having goods in the morning and paying lor them in the afternoon—I expected the cheque was a good one or I should not have taken it; of course I should not have parted with the meat if I had thought there was not 10l. in the bank to meet it; that was what induced me to part with it, no other inducement—it is not unusual for a butcher to lend his man to market with 10l. to buy where he can, some of me and some of somebody else.

JOHN VENABLBS . I am a meat salesman—I was a creditor under the old composition, and with the others signed the agreement to be paid a composition—I had a cheque from Frost on 12th March for 30l.; it was at first returned dishonoured, and afterwards paid, I can't exactly say when, it was put on the meat he bought—I am a creditor for 30l. odd—I have got no dishonoured cheque, I sent a 31l. cheque back to him and told him about it and put it on his meat bill—I have had dishonoured cheques, but they have always been paid—the 31l. odd was for meat; that was the last transaction—he did not send another cheque for it—all the cheques I have had from him I have sent back to him and he has paid me—I have at times had conversation with him about his credit, when he has been rather slack of payment—I said "My account is rather heavy, I wish you would give me a cheque," because he has owed me 150l. or 200l. many times—I said "There are one or two of your cheques returned, I would not go on like this if I were you"—the 30l. cheque of 12th March was not presented again and dishonoured, it was never presented again—the cheque was to go in on the Monday, and he telegraphed to me before 9 o'clock not to send it in, and I did not; I sent it in on the Tuesday and it was paid—I can't say whether the 30l. cheque was sent in again on the 26th March and dishonoured—I have, perhaps, had several 30l. cheques of his dishonoured, but I have always had the money for them; I dare say I had three or four in March—when I told him about the dishonouring of the cheques he said that his customers did not pay, and trade was bad, and all those excuses—he could not say anything else.

Cross-examined. He has owed me as much as 150l. and more, and he has always paid me; he paid me 75l. a month before he filed his petition, and he owed me 31l. odd; my lawyer wanted to sue him, and I said "No, let it be,"I had such confidence in him—I first heard of these criminal proceedings about a month ago—I was not consulted at all before they were taken; I did not give my consent to it—I proved.

Re-examined. I ceased to supply him on credit about two months ago. Alfred Barker. I am cashier at the London and South-Western Bank

—it is my duty when cheques come in against accounts that are not sufficient, to return them, and to make a note at the time—I have here the dishonoured cheque book; this entry of 12th March is my writing; a 30l. cheque of Frost's in favour of Venables was dishonoured, also one on 13th for 10l. in favour of Hunt, on 15th March one for 14l. in favour of "Market," on 18th March one for 19l. 19s. 7d. through Hill's bank. (The witness further deposed to numerous other dishonoured cheques from this date up to the 25th April, including those charged in the indictment. Frederick MANNING and WILLIAM THEODORE PARKHOUSE, cashiers in the bank, also proved other dishonoured cheques between the same dates.)

WILLIAM MARTIN BAKER . I have been acting as solicitor for the defendant, and am acting for his defence—this is my bill of costs—it was taxed—the entry 23rd April, 1878, I find from my diary should be the 25th—I defended him in two or three actions, which commenced in March or April—I prepared the petition which was signed the following day—it is also wrong that on the 23rd he was to bring the list of creditors when he came next time; it ought to be the 25th—when he came with the list of creditors he gave instructions about the petition—my clerk attended prior to the petition; "Drawing and engrossing of petition, 10s., 25th," that is right—when I had the instructions on that day, I should prepare it ready for the next—I should put the stamp on after it is signed; "Drawing affidavit, filing petition, and attending defendant to be sworn, paid oath 2s. 6d., and stamp 1s.," all that occurred on the 26th—Mr. Quick had sued him—I had instructions to defend the action—I think the writ was not sufficiently endorsed, and I took out a summons for further, and better particulars—I do not know that the date 23rd is correct, it is copied by a clerk—I have the copy writ here—it is dated 12th April, served 20th; amount 37l. 11s. 3d., for goods sold and delivered—I entered appearance, possibly to save judgment.

Cross-examined. I was not concerned for him in his prior liquidation—there are several writs besides Quick's—several of them sued for goods, Mr. Venables was one; that was why I advised him to file his petition—there were three or four actions pending, and I thought the best thing would be to call the creditors together and for them to get possession—I was at the meeting of creditors at my office—Mr. Peter Tocher was there—more than twenty were there—there was a discussion as to whether it should be a liquidation—Mr. Tocher seemed resolved on a liquidation, and we could not help ourselves—at the close of the meeting I told the creditors that I should be prepared to pay them a composition of 10s. in the pound if they would accept it—Mr. Tocher and Mr. Layton, the solicitor, said it would be no liquidation—I was prepared to advance 1,000l. for payment of a composition, on security of his book debts and business—the debts were about 2,000l., and his book debts about 1,000l., then the goodwill, lease, &c., about 1,500—I was prepared to advance that sum; then Mr. Pannell was put in to manage the business and the debtor turned out—I advised him to have as receiver his own nominee—he said, "No, I have been in liquidation before, I paid a composition and no one interfered with me?"—no dividend has been paid; as solicitor of the debtor I have had letters inquiring when one would be paid, and have referred them to the trustee—I believe no one represented the defendant when examined in June.

Re-examined. MR. TOCHER was a creditor under the old liquidation—I

have learned since that he held a bill of sale for 300l., advanced to pay the composition—Frost going on as he did the bill of sale was defeated—Tocher did not take possession, and the property secured to him for the 300l. passed under the order and disposition; I did not know the bill of sale was given as security for the 300l., therefore I did not see why he should share better than the other creditors—it was Mr. Tocher who wished to have the matter liquidated—I do not know that the creditors concurred in refusing ail offers after a report made about the cheques—I do not know of any such report—Mr. Tocher said, "Mr. Baker, I may thank you for losing my money."

WILLIAM TOCHER . This medical certificate (produced) refers to my brother, who is at Hastings, suffering from consumption, and unable to attend a Court of Justice—he is a creditor for 300l. on a bill of sale, dated 22nd November, 1876, and for 30l. on this cheque of 24th April; I produced the cheque at the police-court—it was returned dishonoured, and has not been paid—I was not aware that the defendant was about to liquidate, and file a petition on the 27th April, or that my brother lost his security.

Cross-examined. As cashier I keep my brother's books—that is the only way I can speak as to the cheques—Mr. Frost had been in the habit of dealing with my brother a long time before the prior liquidation of 1875 and up to the present time—it was a running account, and there was no arrangement as to length of credit that I am aware of—I know my brother had this bill of sale on the furniture—I have not heard him say that he was annoyed at haying lost his security—I do not know that he was annoyed that he had left the debtor in possession of the furniture, or that he was chiefly instrumental in persuading the creditors not to accept a composition, or that he supplied the meat to the business after the trustee went into possession—I know he did supply it, but I do not know how much—I was not present at the meeting of creditors—I kept the books since 1876, but cannot give any idea what the amount of the business with the defendant was—I have the ledger here, but I cannot give it all—it is a new ledger—I could not say whether it was 4,000l. a year.

Re-examined. This proof signed by my brother for 482l. 2s. 7d. includes a cheque for 30l.

CHARLES BENNER . I am a meat salesman—this cheque, April 17th, of Frost was given to me, was returned dishonoured, and is still owing—10l. was paid off this when it was sent back to him—I attended the meeting of creditors, but did not hear any offer of a composition.

Cross-examined. MR. BAKER might have said he was sorry they had decided to liquidate, but I did not hear any offer—I proved for this balance—the defendant dealt with me once a week on and off since 1875 or 1876—I gave him credit from week to week, not longer—sometimes he paid ready money—I knew he sold a good bit of meat John Palmer. I am a farmer and cattle salesman—the defendant gave me this cheque (produced) for some sheep (dated April 1st, 40l., endorsed "Refer to Drawer")—it came back from my bankers—this is on Smith; Payne, and Smith, dated February 28th—I had a cheque or two returned before that—the letter (produced) was sent to me from Mr. Frost (Read: "Dear Palmer,—You will think it strange I have not sent to you before. I have made up my mind to let my shop, and when I have done so I will pay you all. With kind regards, Yours truly, G. Frost) He paid

me nothing—he still owes me the 40l.—I saw him about it after it was dishonoured and he said he was taking a partner, and then I should hear from him—I had an account for 42l. with a cheque for 40l.—2l. off 43l.

Cross-examined. The preceding cheques are all included in this—I have proved for this 40l. cheque—I did not take any proceedings, and am no party to this prosecution—I have not had very large transactions with him—100l. I should think.

JAMES QUICK . I am a meat salesman—this cheque, April 13 (produced), for 37l. 11s. 3d., is for goods supplied—I am a creditor to that amount—the prisoner was a credit customer—this was for the balance; the bill was 60l. or 70l., and part had been paid off—this has not been paid—the cheque was returned to me about 14th April—my young man went up to tell the defendant about it.

Cross-examined. I do not know the amount of the account—I think it was 60l. or 70l.; this cheque was for the balance, the rest was paid off—the writ endorsement is 137l. 11s. 3d.—I gave him credit for 100l., and sued for the balance, 37l. 11s. 3d.—I had been dealing with him since his former liquidation about once a fortnight or perhaps once a month, but could not say to what extent—I used to give him credit for 30l. or 40l., but had no special arrangement—leaving my son in the business, he let it go more than I should have done—I often used to ask the defendant to pay, and stopped his credit when he had gone far enough.

Re-examined. I did not receive all the money at once—some of the cheques were returned—all is paid except 37l. 11s. 3d. The Jury here stated that they were of opinion that there was no am; that the defendant was struggling with difficulties trying to pay his creditors. The Court concurred.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Friday, April 4th, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

420. ELLEN DRISCOLL (26) and MARY SANTRY (36) , Robbery on John Pitt, and stealing from his person a watch and chain and 2l. in money, his property.Second Count charging DRISCOLL with receiving.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; and Mr. Grain Defended Santry. George Pitt. I am a plumber, of 8, Perry Street, Millwall—on 28th February, about 10.30 p.m., I was in High Street, Poplar, and accidentally knocked up against the prisoners—I may have asked them to have a glass of ale, but I do not recollect it—I went with them to the Greenwich Pensioners public-house, and treated them to liquor—they both asked me to go in there—we stayed about an hour, and I had two or three glasses of whisky—I had a watch and chain and 2l. or 3l. loose in my trousers pocket in gold and silver—I took out my gold watch and chain while I was there, and placed them in my trousers pocket because I did not wish to lose them—only we three were in that compartment—we came out and went down a court, and when I got to the bottom of it I was knocked on the head and knocked down senseless from the front—it was perfectly dark; you could not see your hand before you—there was no gas—the prisoners were with me, and I saw nobody else—when I recovered consciousness I found myself lying on my face on the ground in the court—I got up on my knees, felt in my trousers pocket, and found my watch and everything was gone, and

my hat as well; the women were gone also—this is my watch and chain (produced)—I was seriously hurt; I was in bed three days; my left eye was completely stopped up; I could not open it for three days, and I could hardly see out of the other—a doctor attended me for three or four days.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I know Cotton Street—I do not know Mr. Laxford, a grocer, of Poplar—the prisoners must have been standing outside the Rising Sun in High Street, Poplar—I recollect being with them, but as to meeting them I do not recollect it—I hare no recollection where I first put eyes on them—I asked them to go and have a glass of something—I had been looking for work all day—I had a pint of beer with my dinner at 1 o'clock, and I was not sober when I met the prisoners—I dare say I had had four or five glasses of spirits—not more, because I had been laid up—I was not perfectly drunk—they walked with me when I came out—I first asked them to go to the Rising Sun, the house I came out of; but they refused, and we went to the Pensioners—Santry had some rum there—she is married, and I have heard from her relations that she is a respectable woman and the mother of a family—I walked and talked with them when I came out—I could not make out anything else but that they were going to take me to their house—Santry did not leave before we got to the passage—I can vouch for the two going down the court with me, and Santry had her baby in her arms—Driscoll went into the passage first, and I walked behind her, and Santry behind me; there was not room for two to walk in the passage—I suppose Santry's baby was still in her arms—I never saw it put down—the passage is about 40 yards long, and I received the blow at the end of it—there is a sort of courtyard at the end and a door which you would run your head against if you walked to the end—it opens easily—it is not kept locked, but it shuts and blocks up the end of the passage—you cannot go through if it is fastened—I know because I saw it—there is no door at the end I entered by—the blow was a very hard knock, and I laid senseless for an hour or more.

Cross-examined by Driscoll. They did not refuse to serve me with drink when I went into the Greenwich pensioner—I had several glasses of whisky there—they did not serve me with soda-water that I am aware of—I did not tell you that I had not too much money because I had been all day on the loose—I broke some panes of glass in Greenwich Pensioner Alley, which my father had to pay about 8s. for next morning, but that was after I came to myself—it was done accidentally; the court was in pitch darkness, and I made my way to a light which I saw in one of the cottages—I came to the door, which was fast, and I shoved up against it—it was beyond the door in the passage; the door was not open, but I shoved up against it, and it gave way—they turned me out of there, and I broke the glass, or else I should never have known where the place was—I broke the glass to identify the place, and then went home—I did not take my watch out when I paid for the drink and lay it down on a seat.

Re-examined. There was not light enough for me to see the door at the end of the passage, but I know it was there because afterwards when I broke the glass a man opened it—I am sure I did not run my head against the door at the end—there was a light at the other end, but it did not throw any light down the passage—I thought they were going to take me to their house or into High Street, Poplar—they refused to go into the Rising Sun—Driscoll said she had just been into the b—house, and would not go in again; she would go to the Pensioners.

ALBERT MALLETT (Policeman K 413). On 26th February I received information, and went to Sentry's house, 7, Pock Street, Poplar—I said "Is your name Santry?"—she said "Yes"—I said "Do you remember being at the Greenwich Pensioners last night with a gentleman between 10 and 11l?"—she said "Yes, and I had some drink"—I was in uniform—I said "What is the woman's name who was along with you?"—she said "I dont know her name; she is a friend of mine; I meet her occasionally"—I said "You must know her name; you had better tell me"—she said "I shan't, unless you tell me what you want to know for"—I said "That gentleman has been robbed"—the prosecutor's father, who was with me, said "You had better be careful, and tell where this woman lives"—I said "Is her name Driss or Driscoll?"—she said "I think Driscoll"—I said "Where does she live?"—she said "I think next door but one to a public-house called the Brick in Ashton Street"—I went the same day to 22, Ashton Street, and ascertained that Driscoll lived in the front parlour, but was not at home—I reported to the inspector on duty, and on Thursday, 27th February, the two prisoners were brought to the station by the prosecutor's father—I said to both, "Have you got any money or anything on you?"—Driscoll said "No"—Santry said "I know nothing of it"—Driscoll then accompanied me to her room at 22, Ashton Street, but on the way she escaped from me into a house in a low court—I was walking beside her—I had not made her a prisoner—I found her two minutes afterwards in a small house in a court—she said "Are you going to lock me up?"—I said "I shall now, you will be made a prisoner of"—I went to her house, and in the front parlour, which is her room, in a box which was locked I found 3l. 10s. in gold—she had previously stated that she had no money—I then charged her on suspicion of stealing the watch and money and assaulting Pitt—she was remanded for a week at the Thames Police-court—I failed to get any more information and she was discharged on 7th March—I then said to her "I am determined to come and search your place again"—she said "Very well, I am a respectable girl"—she left the station a little before me, but I went to her house the same day and found her in the back yard—I said "How did you come in?"—she said "Through the front door"—I then dug a portion of the yard up, and at the iron door of the closet, stuck behind the skirting board, I found this watch wrapped in paper and covered over with a handful of soot—I said "Here is something here; here is the gold watch and the chain and five francs and a locket containing the photograph of the complainant's father and mother; you will now be charged with stealing this property and the money of George Pitt"—she said "I do not deny being in his company; when we left him he never had a mark or a blemish on him"—she was taken to the station, and before the charge was taken she said to the inspector "This man says that I pawned the watch"—I said "I might have said so before, but you see I have found it now"—I took Santry the same afternoon at her house, 7, Dock Street, and charged her with being concerned, with her sister, Driscoll, in assaulting George Pitt—she said "Very well, policeman, I will go to the station with you quietly; if my sister had that watch I know nothing about that;" and she said at the station "I had the misfortune to meet this young man, me and my sister, in High Street, Poplar; he knocked up against us; he asked us to go and have a glass of ale and we did in the Greenwich Pensioners; we had gome more drink after that, and had some rum" or "brandy

in a bottle; I went in first; my sister went out with a jug to get some ale and I stopped in to mind my baby"—the court where this took place is just at the rear of Santry's house, which is about 200 yards from the Greenwich Pensioners—her husband is a very respectable hard-working man.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. He is here—I know that his wife has a family and a child at her breast, which is in prison with her—no Judge has ever told me that it is highly improper to question prisoners—I did not tell her that I was going to charge her—I do not think it is my duty to caution people that what they say may have relation to some charge, but it would be my duty if I was certain she was the guilty party—it would certainly be my duty to caution persons before I cross-examined them—she was not actually given in charge till 7th March—I found no property at her house on 26th February; I did not search—I went there to make inquiries, to get the other female's address—I had no good authority to search the house, I had not sufficient suspicion—I believe I had a right to pat all those leading questions to her without a caution, although I dare not search her house—I know that not one of the Jury has a right to question the prisoners—when the prisoners were brought to the station by the prosecutor's father I asked Driscoll "Have you anything about you?"—she said "No;" and Santry said "No, I am a respectable married woman"—I had not power to charge them then, and they went away free people—she voluntarily offered that I should search her house, and I went with her, but she bolted from me—I made a prisoner of her as I found 3l. 10s. in her house—I did not take Santry when I took Driscoll, because I went by my superior's directions that there was not sufficient evidence against her on the first occasion—the additional evidence was Pitt identifying her—the door at the end of the alley is 7 or 8 feet high.

Cross-examined by Driscoll. Pitt would not swear to the amount he lost, and therefore the charge was not entered—the inspector did not say that Pitt could only charge you with the watch—he did not say "You cannot charge her again for the money she has already been discharged for. Re-examined. It is a blind alley; you cannot get through to any place to my knowledge—the door at the end is for any vehicle to go in—when the door is shut the alley is blocked up, and if the door is open you cannot get beyond the courtyard—Driscoll was present when I found the watch, and made no remark whatever—I got information from Pitt's father—I was in the station when he came and complained on Wednesday morning about 11 o'clock.

Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Driscoll says: "When he was paying for the brandy he pulled the watch out with the coppers. He left the watch there and I picked it up. He was blind-drunk; he could not remember what he was doing."Santry says: "I know nothing about the watch, Me and my sister went down High Street, Poplar. He knocked against my sister. He took us in to have a drink. When we were coming out he paid for half a pint of brandy; she brought it down to my place, and I did not see her till next morning."

Driscoll's Defence. I had the watch before I came out of the Greenwich Pensioners at all. As I came out I saw it lying on the seat, and picked it up and put it in my pocket We came out and drank a little of the brandy outside. He said he could not drink any more. We bade him good night, and left him in Cotton Street I would have given the watch up next

morning, but I was afraid of being taken in custody. I did not make away with it The money in my box I got by the sweat of my brow. If he speaks the truth he knows we never struck him, we never had a word of anger, and he had not a blemish on him when when we left him. If he had kept his watch in his pocket I should not have been a prisoner to-day.

DRISCOLL— GUILTY on the Second Count .— Six Month's Imprisonment.

SANTRY— NOT GUILTY .

421. HENRY CARTER (19) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Francis Lynch and another, and stealing seven tobacco-pouches, their property.

MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.

ALBERT MANSFIELD . I am cashier to Lynch and Co., 171a, Aldersgate Street, wholesale druggists' sundriesmen—the warehouse is in Trinity Court—on Saturday, 8th March, I closed the premises at 2.20, and was the last clerk on the premises—I locked the safe and my desks in my office and the strong-room—there were no marks on the strong-room door, the locks were in perfect order, and the doors were safe—there were valuable securities in the safe—I went back on Monday morning at 9 o'clock, and found my desk broken open, and these three pieces (produced) broken off the safe, but they had not succeeded in opening it—this is a fourth piece which was broken off—the strong-room was open, and a piece was broken off the door, but there were no marks on it—there were no valuables there, except the safe and the ledgers—the key hung in my office—the prisoner was in the employ about four months in 1877, and again afterwards—he was discharged a fortnight previous to this—the safe was on the floor which he was employed on—he was assistant to the stock-keeper—we keep such tobacco pouches as these (produced), but there is no mark on them—when I left there was nothing to lock but the outer doors.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. We should not have taken you back unless you had a good character—I returned your written character to your employers the last time—it is not true that you left because you had to empty some cisterns, but you left of your own accord.

ALFRED TURNER . I am stock-keeper to Lynch and Co., and the prisoner had been assisting me for a fortnight or three weeks previous to this burglary—on Saturday, 8th March, I left the warehouse about 2.45—I was not the last person there—I saw the prisoner opposite the premises and spoke to him at the bottom of Trinity Court in Aldersgate Street for three or four minutes—that was 20 or 30 yards from the door of the premises—I went up the court to get some keys, and locked up a truck which was standing there, went into the warehouse, hung the keys up—I saw the prisoner follow me nearly to the warehouse door—I went down to put my hat and coat on, and when I came back I missed him—I do not say that he went inside the warehouse.

Cross-examined. I found you hard-working, honest, and industrious—I tried to get you back again—I called you over on the Saturday in Trinity Court—my mistress and two children were with me—I gave you the job to empty the cesspools, they smelt so bad that everybody in the house complained—you said that you felt rather ill, and you went to the hospital; that was before you were discharged.

Re-examined. He was discharged for being late of a morning—there is

no truth in the statement that I said good-bye to him and my wile and saw him off the premised.

WILLIAM COLE . I am a packer in the employ of Lynch and Co.—I was the last person to leave the warehouse that Saturday—I left at 2.50 p.m.—the doors and windows were all locked—there are two cellar-flaps in front of the warehouse; I locked one inside and one outside—the keys of the communicating doors of the warehouse hung up in the warehouse—I went there on Sunday morning at 10 o'clock, in consequence of a communication made to me, and found one of the cellar-flaps open and a desk in the strong-room broken open, the strong-room door broken open, and the safe tampered with. Cross-examined. I do not know that you did anything wrong while you worked there—I saw you outside on this Saturday, and asked you what you were doing—10 minutes after I locked up, and I think you said that you were at work for your brother-in-law.

By the COURT. I last saw Turner as I was locking the door—I wished him good day—he had gone out before me—I left the prisoner standing in the court, and saw no more of him—I left four of our boys standing inside the warehouse when I went down to get my coat; the prisoner was not one of them, he was in the court—Turner had not gone at that time, but I did not see him when I came back—the door was open, but if any one entered the boys ought to have seen him.

Re-examined. There were four boys in the warehouse, and when I came back they were there still—I then locked the place up—the warehouse was open while I went down.

Prisoner. It is quite false—I never went up the court on Saturday—I never went nearer than Aldersgate Street—I saw you on Friday night, but you did not speak to me on Saturday—I have been in the ware-house, but never saw you go round to see if anybody was there.

ALBERT MANSFIELD (Re-examined). The keys are taken away as a rule out of the building, and they were taken away at this time, except the key of the strongroom—it would not be possible for anybody who got in from the outside to go from one room to another—the offices on the ground-floor communicate, and are always open, but the first-floor is always locked, and the manager keeps the key—the strong-room is on the second basement—if anybody was locked in there they could get all over the building, except to the show-room, which is locked up—that is on the first-floor—the key of the strong room was hung up in my office.

EDWARD QUESTED (City Policeman 305). On Saturday evening, 8th March, about 10.15, I was in Trinity Court, and heard a sound proceeding from Mr. Lacey's premises—I tried the doors, and found them all correct, but the cellar-flap was unfastened—I could lift it up—I told Serjeant Wrench—I did not take the prisoner, but I searched him, and found these seven tobacco-pouches (produced), a purse containing three duplicates, three street door keys, and a small box key.

Cross-examined. These are the same tobacco-pouches that I took from you—I tied them up in a parcel, and they were locked up at the station, and have been been there ever since.

ROBERT FURLEY (City Policeman 308). On Saturday night, 8th March, about 10.30 p.m., I was stationed at Cross Keys Square, Little Britain, close to the back of Mr. Lynch's warehouse, and heard somebody jump from the roof of a low building and fall on the flags, and saw him start to run—

I wag about 12 yards off—there was gas light—as soon as he saw me he stopped, and I asked him where he had been—he said "I have been to sleep on some straw in the warehouse, and when I woke up I found the doors locked, and had to get out some other way"—I detained him till the sergeant came up.

Cross-examined. I heard you jump, and saw you run towards me—I never touched you with my elbows.

JAMES MCCANE (City Policeman 337). On Saturday, 8th March, I was in Little Britain, directly at the back of this warehouse, and saw the prisoner pass along the first-floor of a broken down building, which had been a dwelling-house, but was not inhabited—it was about two houses from the warehouse—he saw me, and I said "Now then"—he said "All right, mate, I am working for Mr. Lynch; I am just coming down here," and jumped from a ledge 10 feet from the ground, over a brick wall and an iron railings into Cox's Court, and ran 15 or 20 yards down the court, but as soon as he saw Furley he stopped, and he detained him.

Cross-examined. I can swear to you—I saw Furley take hold of you—I saw through the railing, which is 4 feet high.

WILLIAM WRENCH (City Police Sergeant). I examined Mr. Lynch's cellar-flap, and found it unfastened—it fastens inside by bolts, or a chain through a staple—I found a desk broken open and the safe tampered with—I found this broken file there—I was present when these pouches were taken from the prisoner—I took him to the station—he said when he was charged, "I am working for Mr. Lynch; I had a headache on Saturday, Mr. Turner allowed me to lie down, and when I woke I found the-warehouse locked up. I went to the basement and found I could not get out that way; I went to the second floor and got out at the back window and crossed the roofs towards Montague Place."

Prisoner's Defence. I said nothing of the kind or thought of such a thing. I never was in the warehouse. Another man went up the court, and the constable took me in custody and blamed me for what I am innocent of. He ran me against the wall with his elbow in my chest, and has ruined my constitution. I have been bleeding ever since.

The Prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

422. PETER McEWAN (37) , Unlawfully obtaining divers sums of money by false pretences.

MR. DAVIS Prosecuted.

JOHN FREEBODY ROWE . I am out of business—I was a licensed victualler—on 11th February I advertised in the Daily Telegraphy and the same afternoon received this letter, which is in the prisoner's writing—I have seen him write since. (This was signed "Peter McEwan," stating that he wanted a collector for London, and requesting the advertiser to call next day at 9.45, at 22, Crutched Friars, where Messrs. Cox and Elliott's name was on the door.) He called at my house in the evening and said, "I have sent you a letter"—I said, "Yes, I received a letter"—he said, "I want a clerk and collector," and asked what wages I wanted—I said, "30s. a week"—he said, "I am a miller and maltster; I have a lot of money to collect, and I want 100l. security"—I said, "I have a deposit-note of 115l."—he came next morning, and I agreed to give him 50l.

CHARLES FREDERICK BEAN . I am one of the film of Bean and Newton, flour and corn factors, of the Corn Exchange—on March 6th I was at the Mansion House and produced a deposit-note for 115l. on the London and County Bank, dated February 4th, 1879; it was marked, because we objected to give it up, and it was returned to my solicitor, who has it now in Mark Lane—I was not told that I should be asked to produce it here.

JOHN FREEBODY HOWE (continued). Next morning I agreed to give him 50l. for a month, and he gave me this cheque for the difference between 115l. and 50l. (This was for 65l. on the London and County Bank, Colchester, dated 13th February, 1879, and signed McEwan and Co.) That is in the prisoner's writing; I presented it at the bank, and it was returned marked "No account."—when he gave it to me he said that he was doing a good business, and that he would give me a cheque for the difference, and I could go to Colchester and get it instead of waiting a week, and he would give me an I O U for 50l. for the first month—he gave me this: "I O U 50l., Patrick McEwan," and I parted with the deposit note, believing that the cheque was all right—he said that I should have a lot of money to collect, and I should have to go to Colchester to be introduced to the farmers whom he dealt with—I entered his service on 12th February, the day I parted with the note—this was all at Cox and Elliott's office, at Crutched Friars—no business was carried on there by McEwan—I had no accounts to collect—there was only one office; it was on the first floor—I was only there about half an hour, and he said "Call to-morrow;" I called on the 13th, and on Friday morning, the 14th, I stopped my note—I went to Colchester on the Saturday and presented the cheque—he never paid me any wages.

Cross-examined. Next morning I said that I had been thinking the matter over and would give you 50l.—I said that I had a connection, a baker; you gave me small samples of flour to take to him; that was all the business I could get to do.

ALGERNON HOWARD . I am a gentleman's servant, and Eve at 41, Grove Road, Holloway—on 27th January I put an advertisement into the Telegraph for a situation, and saying that I could give security—I received an answer, which I have destroyed or lost, in consequence of which, on 30th January, I called at 32, Crutched Friars; McEwan's name was not up, but I saw the prisoner at the street door—he said "Is your name Howard?" I said "Yes"—we went upstairs into Cox and Elliott's office, and he then said "I suppose you received my letter?" I said "Yes, sir"—he said "I want an honest young man, and I shall want security, as you will have to handle a great deal of money; I want you to act as porter or messenger; my last clerk robbed me, and I want to know how much security you can give me "—I said "About 40l."—he said "I shall require 50l. for one month"—I said "I shall have to go home for the book receipts"—I had a deposit account at the Central Bank, Tooley Street branch—next day, the 31st, I returned with the banker's receipt for 50l., but he arranged on the first day to give me 25s. a week as porter—he said that he was a miller, and had mills in Suffolk—I went with him next day to the Central Bank in Tooley Street, and cashed the note into 10l. Bank of England notes, which I gave to the prisoner and returned with him to Crutched Friars; he then wrote this promissory note in my presence. ("Jan. 31st, 1879. I promise to pay Algernon Howard 50l. at the expiration of a month from this day. Peter McEwan.) He said, "I shall want you to go and see some baker's busi-

nesses which are for sale," and also that he was doing a very good business and wanted me to collect money—I entered his employment the same day and he sent me to see some baker's shops which were for sale—I made a' report about them—no business was done in the office, nor were there any books—I had nothing to carry as a porter—there were no samples or anything showing business during the three weeks I was there—I have not had my money back or any wages.

Cross-examined. I brought the promissory note written out and asked you to sign it—I did not say I would advance you another 100l. in two or three weeks, I said that I had not any more money—I did not ask you to teach me the baking trade.

JOHN JOSEPH TODD . I am a porter of Bayswater—on 5th November I advertised in the Telegraphy and received this letter, which is in the prisoner's writing—I have seen him write (This requested the witness to call on Peter McEwan, 32, Crutched Friars, at 11.30 on Saturday)—I went to 32, Crutched Friars, but did not see the name up—after waiting some time the prisoner came from the street, went upstairs, and opened Cox and Elliott's door with a key—I said, "I have come in reference to your letter" he said, "I want a messenger, do you know the City well?" I said, "Yes, tolerably well;" he said, "The last young man I had decamped, and I am determined not to be done again, and therefore I shall require 15l. as security"—I hesitated, and after some time he said "Well, 10l. will do, can you get 10l.?" I said "Yes;" he said "Bring it to me to-morrow morning"—he said nothing about the wages—I called next morning, 7th November, and gave him the 10l., and he gave me this I O U for it (produced)—he said "You will learn something while you are with me, and you will have 1l. a week"—he said nothing about his business, but I believed that it was a genuine business, and that he would require a messenger—that was the reason I gave him the 10l.—I entered into his employ at once—he told me that he was looking out for a house and servants for his own use, and he wanted me to go and see servants who put advertisements in the papers, and send them to him—I did nothing as messenger—no business was carried on—I was in the office nearly every day—there was not a book there, and no signs whatever of business—he paid my wages the first two weeks, and the third week he gave me 17s., and said, "I will settle everything next Saturday"—the end of my week was Thursday—he did not do so—I have received 6l. 17s. altogether—I never left, he never discharged me—on 4th January I told him it was no use going on as I was going on, I must have my money—he said, "Very well, I will give you part of it now if you like to have a cheque"—I said, "Very well," and he gave me this cheque on the London and County Bank, Colchester branch, for 5l.—I passed it through the bank, and it was returned marked "No effects"—I have never received any portion of the 10l. back—I saw great numbers of young men come there.

Cross-examined. The 6l. 17s. I had was on account of wages, not on account of the 10l.—this (produced) is my receipt to you for 21. on 21st December, 1878—you did not tell me whether that was for wages or what it was for, I signed it because you asked me.

Re-examined. That 2l. was, I believe, part of the 6l. 17s.; I had 2l. 17s., 2l., 1l., 10s. and 10s., making 6l. 17s., that was all I had.

HENRY CHARLES GASCOYNE (Not examined in Chief).

Cross-examined. You owe me 15l., which you got from me 5 1/2 year ago—I have met you at different times and never asked you for it, but I asked you for it last February—the policeman took you to Vine Street, but said that he could not detain you, I must summons you for debt; he took your address down and it was false.

THOMAS PALLISTER YOUNG . I am one of the firm of Young and Son, of Mark Lane—I produce a deposit note on the London and County Banking Company, Colchester branch, dated 4th February, 1879—I decline to part with it—(This was an acknowledgment of the receipt of 115l., from John Freebody Rowe, by the London and County Bank, on a deposit account)—I also produce a transfer order. (Read: "February 12th, 1879. Please pay bearer on my behalf amount of account, deposit 1172, for 115l. sterling. John Freebody Rowe.")

JOHN FREEBODY ROWE (Re-examined). I parted with this deposit note and this transfer note on the representations made by the prisoner.

AUGUSTUS ROBERT CLENCH . I am manager of the Colchester branch of the London and County Bank—the prisoner had an account there, which was closed by this letter. which is in my writing (This was found on the prisoners' premises, dated 8th February, 1879, from the witness, to the prisoner, forwarding him a statement of his account, and stating that the balance of 11s. 3d. would be charged as commission, and requesting him to return all unused forms)—after that letter the prisoner had no authority to draw on our bank, as the account was closed on 28th December—I have not the ledger here, but this "N. E." is in the writing of our chief clerk, there-fore it is quite certain that there was not enough to pay the cheque—this cheque for 65l. was presented, and it bears an answer on it in my writing—he paid in two sums while he had an account with us; once when he opened the. account and once afterwards, but no cheques.

Cross-examined. The commission was for the expenses—there was 500l. in cheques returned and cheques unpaid, which you had paid in, marked "No account"—you did not represent yourself as a capitalist, I put the question to you.

WILLIAM JOHN FLUISTER (Detective Sergeant). On 21st February I received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension, and removed him out of the custody of another officer—he was ill—after the first examination I went to his office, 32, Crutched Friars—I saw no books there, but I found fifty-three letters, three telegrams, the bankers letter I have produced, and a quantity of documents, and this agreement relating to the premises—(This was between Cox and Elliott and Peter McEwan, letting a share in the office, 32, Crutched Friars, to the prisoner at 25l. a quarter and 2s. a week for cleaning, &c., a quarter's notice to be given. The following notice was also put in: "We hereby give you notice to give up the share in the office you hold of us on 22nd March. Cox and Elliott.") The name of McEwan was not up, only Cox and Elliott.

Cross-examined. I have not seen the receipt for your last quarter's rent.

CHARLES FREDERICK BEAN (Not examined in Chief).

Cross-examined. I acted as broker and sold your flour and grain—I have a letter arranging that my firm was to sell all your flour—you told me you were getting possession of the mill at Sudbury, and I saw the advertisement in the paper—I have a delivery order for flour in your name—it came up to Brick Lane by railway this January, and was sold on the Corn Exchange in six lots of 20 sacks each.

The Prisoner, in his Statement before the Magistrate and in his Defence commented upon the evidence of each witness, contending that he was doinq a legitimate business, that Rowe had suffered no loss, as his money was still lying to his credit at the bank, and that none of the witnesses ought to complain, as their lodging money with him was their own voluntary act thai he held the receipts of some of the persons who he had repaid, that he expected his cheque for 65l. would have been cashed, and that in giving it he was taking a risk, as the deposit note was not due for a week, and adverse circumstances might have happened in the meantime.

GUILTY *— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

OLD COURT.—Saturday, April 5th, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

423. BERNARD DUNKELS BUHLER (35) and CARL LUDWIG STEITZ (26) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences an order for 27l. from Louis Charles Alexander. Other counts for conspiracy, and varying the form of charge.

MESSRS. MEAD and GILL Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended Buhler, and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Steitz.

SALVADORE ARNATI . I am a member of the firm of Arnati and Harrison, of 11 and 12, Great Tower Street, City—we are agents of the Belgian Steamer the Baron Osy—I produce a bill of lading dated 23rd August, 1878, referring to 100 bags of wheat meal—it is consigned to M. Jackson and Co., and endorsed first by M. Jackson and Co., then delivered to M. B. Tate, undersigned B. D. Buhler, 64, Hop Exchange, signed M. B. Tate—it then holds our stamped release to the ship to deliver the goods—if the goods are not claimed we have a lighter in attendance on the ship, and all goods not claimed wo put into it on what is understood at the Custom House as a captain's entry; they were not claimed, and consequently were put into a Custom House lighter—they were landed there—we do not warehouse them, we merely land them on the quay—the bill of lading was left with us against an order on Custom House Quay for the goods—I gave this order in exchange for the bill of lading and payment of freight charges—the order authorises the wharfinger to deliver the goods to the holder of it.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The name of the consignors on the bill of lading is Gustave von Wint and Co., of Antwerp—I know them as forwarding agents at Antwerp; I doubt their respectability now; at that time I had heard nothing against them—I never heard of Jackson and Co. or saw them—the Baron Osy arrives every Thursday morning, the day after she leaves Antwerp—the bill of lading was brought to our office on 22nd August, the payment of freight and charges was on the 23rd, and the release to Custom House Quay on the 26th—we merely passed them to Jackson or bearer.

DR. SEDGWICK SAUNDERS . I am medical officer of health of the City of London—I received a sample order marked "G" from Mr. Alexander on 30th or 31st December last for the purpose of analysis—I went with Inspector Payne to the Custom House and got the sample myself from Bull Quay—I got it from the bags marked "HG"—I analysed that sample—it consisted almost entirely of sulphate of lime, plaster-of Paris—I ascertained by direct chemical microscopical examination that there was no organic substance of

any kind, no farina—I also compared it microscopically with the appearance of the common plaster-of-Paris, which I got at a neighbouring builder's, and the result was as I have stated, that it consisted of sulphate of lime—I then obtained the ash by incineration, and found it was 78.6 per cent of the whole substance, the normal weight of the ash of flour being about 7-10ths or 8-10ths of 1 per cent.—it was entirely conclusive that it was not meal—I also checked that experiment by what is termed "Barker's test" a chloroform test—by that test, if there is any organic matter it floats at the top, if mineral it sinks to the bottom, leaving the supernatant fluid perfectly pure and clear and pellucid—in this case nothing floated, it sank to the bottom as if metallic—in addition to sulphate of lime there was a white earth, commonly called white clay—I had a small portion of stuff submitted to me by Mr. Alexander, which had been tried to be converted into bread, and it was nothing more than lumps of plastor-of-Paris—subsequently to that I obtained from the inspector two loaves made by a French baker, Mr. Gandais, of Dean Street, Soho—I also tested the plastic nature of the material by making with it an animal's head—there was flour or meal in the loaves.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have not got the samples that I analysed here—on touching flour with your linger it is perfectly smooth; this was practically gritty, not quite gritty—I should not say that any one taking a portion of the bulk would directly find that it was not flour; I have said that the feel of it by the finger would almost determine that it was a mineral and not an organic matter; I will not unsay that, I wish to qualify it—Mr. Otto Hainer did not act with me in making the analysis; no one assisted with me; there was no check on my analysis that I know of—I checked every process by a subsequent test—Mr. Hainer is undoubtedly a perfectly scientific gentleman—I have not the pleasure of knowing Dr. Hassall—my attention has never been called to the sise used to stiffen paper—I know nothing of the export value of flour—I have not certified that a Mr. Chittenden sold 1 ton of this very mixture to paper-makers at 6l. 10s. a ton; I know it now for the first time—I have not seen Mr. Buhler's books.

Re-examined. An inexperienced person not in the habit of analysing or testing matter would not be able to say whether it was flour or not simply by the touch—two samples of a mixture like this from the same bulk would not differ very much as to the quantity of the component parts—they would to a certain extent—I made two previous analyses of this for Mr. Alexander, and the results were singularly conclusive, the difference being only one figure in the second place of decimals in the three analyses—I do not consider it quite pure plaster-of-Paris—if what was mixed with it was white clay, as I presume it was, it would be of less value than the plaster-of-Paris, and it would be worth less as a mixture.

MONKHOUSE BRUCE TATE . I am a hop, corn, and seed factor, 105, Borough—I saw Buhler at the Hop Exchange about 23rd August—he asked me if I knew anything about flour—I said "Yes, perfectly," having had considerable experience in it—he asked if I would undertake the sale of 100 bags he had coming from Antwerp—he gave me this bill of lading at the time—I don't know that he absolutely mentioned the ship; he had previously endorsed it—he requested me to sell it and to pay all charges on it—he gave me a sample of pure flour in a small paper, stating that it was the shipping sample; that the bulk had not arrived yet—on that sample I sold the flour—he said that he had paid the freight, and I was to pay

the landing charges—I sent the bill of lading to Messrs. Arnati and Harrison and I obtained a release from them from Custom House Quay—I deposited that order at Custom House Quay, and paid all charges due on it up to that time—I submitted the sample of real flour which Buhler gave me to my buyers, and sold on that sample—as soon as the vessel arrived I passed my order to the buyers—they went down and examined it, and finding what it was they rejected it—they brought me up a sample, a bagful; I examined it, and quite agreed with them—I then wrote to Buhler, and afterwards went and saw him—I told him that the 100 bags of flour, or representing flour, wag nothing but a lot of ground chalk or plaster-of-Paris, that the sale had been repudiated in consequence, and I wished to have nothing more to do with it, and demanded back my charges—I took the sample that had been brought back by my customers and showed it to him, and left a part of it with him; that was on 26th August, the same day my buyer had refused it, within half an hour afterwards—he said that he himself had been deceived, that he knew nothing of it, that he had advanced, I think he said about 80l. on it, and that he should take proceedings against the party who had misrepresented the matter to him—he paid me my charges immediately—he did not at all dispute the fact of its being plaster-of-Paris or chalk; he did not seem to know anything more about it, he accepted my statement—I handed him this retransfer order (H) transferring the 100 sacks from myself to him—I saw him again I think about three week afterwards, at the Hop Exchange, I was in company with Mr. Cohnhoff—I asked him how it was that he had made use of my order after I had told him what the stuff was in the sacks, in order to get an advance from Messrs. Barker and Co.; I expressed myself annoyed at his having done so—he replied "I have not done anything of the sort, if it has been done, it has been done by some one without my consent"—I then explained to him that I had seen Messrs. Barker and Co., at the invitation of Mr. Cohnhoff, their agent, and they had told me that an order had been presented to them with my name on it, asking for an advance on 100 bags of flour; that I asked who by, and they told me the order had been presented to them by a Mr. Natzler—Buhler then said "If Natzler has shown them a sample of pure flour, he has done it on his own responsibility"—I think the matter then virtually ended—he did not explain how the transfer order which I had given him got into Natzler's hands.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have been in business a considerable time—I have experience of a great many articles of commerce—I received the sample from Buhler before the Baron Osy arrived, and I had the bill of lading at the same time—the person to whom I sold would be the first to draw sample from the bulk—that was obviously not flour—any one experienced in flour would detect it—I sold on the sample Buhler gave me, at 28s. or 29s. a sack—the price, as flour, would be about 12l. a ton—I don't think he showed me Jackson's document of 22nd August; I did not see it—I think he showed me this (produced) when I called on him with Mr. Cohnhoff, but not at the time he gave me the bill of lading—he did not give me the receipts for the freight; he told ma he had paid the freight, and therefore it was free—he told me on the 26th August that he had been swindled by Jackson—he mentioned Jackson's name; it was on the bill of lading—he did not show me the cheque—I did not see any of the documents until I went with Mr. Cohnhoff—I believe he told me on the 26th that Jackson had

got an advance from him to the amount of 80l.—that was when I went to him with Mr. Cohnhoff—my impression was that he had made an attempt again to sell it as flour, hut what really annoyed me was that my name had been used, without the retransfer to his name—I cannot tell whether it was retransferred to his name immediately after my complaint—he assured me that it was not done purposely, and that he had not authorised Natzler in any way to represent it as flour—it was then he showed me the documents—I believe this is one of them. (This was dated 22nd August, 1878, signed N. Jackson and Co., acknowledging the receipt of cheque for 75l., and other tarns in cash amounting to 88l. 5s. for 100 bags of wheaten flour.) He showed me this cheque for 75l., and his banker's pass-book showing that it had been charged against him, and this promissory note for 88l., and this receipt for the charges, 3l. 6s. 2d., in all 90l. odd—I don't know anything about gypsum; I don't sell it—I have nothing to with supplying material for the thickening of paper, or for india-rubber manufacture—I have known Buhler for about two years; he is a German—he has been at the Hop Exchange during that time—I always found him straightforward and honour able—advances are frequently made on bills of lading before the arrival of the bulk—a person could have no kno wedge of the goods, except what was on the bill of lading.

Re-examined. There are several qualities of meal; we hardly except meal from flour, unless it is described as wheaten meal, then we should regard it as flour—other meals would be of much less value, some certainly half; such as fine pollard, fine feeding meal, fine ground bran—pea-meal would be cheaper; that would be more than half the value.

HILTON CASSIDAY BARKER . I am a partner in a firm of bankers in Mark Lane—a person named Natzler brought me some papers and a sample of flour, and this transfer order (H), signed by Mr. Tate—I had the sample examined by Mr. Cohnhoff.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. This order now has the endorsement of B. D. Buhler—I don't think that was on it at the time it was put into my hands; I am not certain.

LOUIS CHARLES ALEXANDER . I was formerly secretary to the Anglo-Belgian Bank, 84, Lombard Street—it is now in liquidation, and I am the official liquidator—on 26th November Steitz called on me at the bank and handed me this letter of introduction: "Dear Sir,—Mr. Steitz, of Messrs. Steitz and Co., I can highly recommend to you. He has some business to propose to you which may suit your bank. Yours faithfully, B. D. Buhler." I knew Buhler slightly previous to that—Steitz told me that he had been to his banker's, the Imperial Bank, with a view of getting an advance upon a quantity of flour, meal—he said "meal," and he showed me a delivery order that he had written in favour of the manager of the Imperial Bank, hat he was told that they did not advance on that class of securities, and he came to me with that letter of introduction to see if he could get the advance from my bank—I told him that the Anglo-Belgian Bank was not doing any business—it was just before the liquidation—he then told me that he was in some difficulty, having a bill to meet that day, that he had been disappointed in getting money in, and that the refusal of the Imperial Bank to make the advance had put him in some perplexity—after some little conversation, as I felt rather sorry for him, I asked him what was the least amount he could do with to tide him over the difficulty—he first asked 60l.

or 80l., and then said about 30l.—Mr. Fowler came in while Steitz was there—the only document he produced at that stage was this delivery order—I said that I knew nothing whatever about flour, but if he would get a report from some competent person as to its value, and if that justified an advance of 30l., I would let him hare it myself—having brought a letter from Mr. Buhler, of whom I had a good opinion, I was desirous of obliging the parties—I told him he would have to pay the fee of any person making the examination and giving the report—he expressed his willingness to dp so, and wrote this undertaking in my presence: "I here with agree to pay Mr. Dale's fee for examining 80 bags meal H. G., London, 10th December, 1878. Carl L. Steitz, Steitz and Co."—I must have mentioned Mr. Dale's name before this—I happened to have a circular of his on my desk which I had received some days before, and that suggested his name—Steitz asked me how long the examination would take—I said "I cannot tell, it will depend on Mr. Dale's engagements, but to expedite matters, as you seem to be in a hurry, you may take my letter authorising Mr. Dale to make the examination, to Mr. Dale yourself"—he did not produce this transfer order (H)—I never saw it till I saw it at the Mansion House—I don't know that he produced any transfer order to me—he must have given Mr. Dale a sampling order—he did not give me a document that day describing the stuff as meal—he came next day, Mr. Fowler was present during part of the interview—I can't tell whether he saw the word "meal" here—during the conversation Mr. Fowler said "Why is this described as meal?"—that was on the first day—Steitz said, "Those people on the other side are probably unacquainted with English, and they use the word meal because the German word stands for meal, or flour"—I asked him on the first occasion what bis business was—he said he was a wholesale toy merchant—I asked how he became possessed of this meal—he said it had been deposited with him by a person who was a debtor to him, and he had the depositor's authority to raise money on it—I said "Why does not the debtor sell this and pay you?"—he shrugged his shoulders, and made a gesture—I did not ask him who the depositor was—he did not say whether it was Buhler or no—he came twice next day—I saw Mr. Dale before he came the second time—the first time he asked if I had received Mr. Dale's report—I said I had not, and he went away—when he came again I agreed to advance him the 30l., and he signed this agreement, and gave me this delivery order (H), and I gave him a cheque for 27l. 14s. 6d., for which he gave me a promissory note—the condition of the agreement was that the money was to be repaid on 28th December, and in default of payment I should be at liberty to sell the security—Mr. Dale's report was verbal—subsequently Steitz came and gave me permission to sell at once—I gave Mr. Blaisher, a commission agent, an order to take out a sack in the name of Mr. Gandais, and he afterwards brought me some specimens of bread that had been made—I don't remember the date—I then called on Steitz and asked him for an explanation—I cannot fix the date of that; I should say it was about eighteen or twenty days after I had made the advance—I called several times without being able to see him—when I did see him I was very angry, and 1 used some very strong language—I produced the samples to him and said, "It is an atrocious swindle; who is behind you in this matter?"—he

declined to say; he quibbled a little and said that he would see his friend George Lewis before he gave up the name of the parties from whom he got the flour—I said, "Is Mr. Buhler in this matter?"—he fenced with the * question; he did not answer it—he said that he had not long been in England, and he would see his friend George Lewis and be guided by his advice—I said, "Do so, by all means"—he afterwards came to me at Putney, 1 was confined at home by indisposition—he said he had seen Mr. Lewis, who had told him to give up the name of the gentleman from whom he had this stuff, and that it was Mr. Buhler—he came to me again with a solicitor's clerk and offered me the 30l., the amount of the advance, which I declined to take—on January 2nd I saw Buhler at his office,; before that I had reported the matter to Dr. Saunders—I went to him with a specimen—I had had his report when Steitz came and offered me the money, and before I saw Buhler—I wrote to Buhler before Christmas, and he replied that he was going out of town, and would not be back till the beginning of January—when I saw him I said that I had waited till then because I wanted to hear hit explanation, as I conceived the matter was a swindle or worse—at first he said he knew nothing about it, and then he said that he had never authorised Steitz to come and offer the stuff to me—I believe he said that he intended Steitz to produce some bills to the bank for discount; that Steitz had applied to him for a loan which he was not in a position to make, but having this stuff there he had given it him with liberty to raise money on it, instead of advancing cask, but the object of his introduction to me was with a view of the bank discounting some bills—I did not ask him how the meal got into his hands; he showed me a bill of Jackson's; he said that he had himself been deceived, and he showed me a day-book referring to some sales, and so forth—he also showed me this agreement, signed on 11th December, between Steitz and himself for the division of the proceeds of the sale of this stuff; I am not sure whether the asterisk and the foot-note were there at the time. (Read: "To Mr. B. D. Buhler. I beg to acknowledge receipt of your order on Custom House Quay for 80 bags, supposed to be meal (a mixture), which I received in trust for sale for you, and shall render you cash account directly after the sale.") Buhler said "As I could not sell it myself I thought somebody else might"—he was very indignant with Steitz, and said he was disposed to take proceedings against him for abusing his name and his introduction—he said, "I am not going to pay this money"—, I stopped him and said, "Don't talk to me about paying; because I have not spoken about it, and I am not going to allow you to talk to me on the subject, inas much as I have taken steps to bring the parties to justice, and I only wanted to see you to give you a chance of giving an explanation"—I then turned my back on him and walked out—I think I know Buhler's writing; I believe this to be hist (Read: "August 26, 1878. From Buhler to Messrs. M. Jackson and Co. I have inspected the flour for which I advanced you 82l. odd, and find the sample you submitted to me is entirely different from the bulk; indeed, the latter is no flour at all, but plaster-of-Paris. I give you notice that I shall demand my money from you to-morrow, othervise I shall put it in the hands of the police.")

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I did not examine the day-book Buhler showed me; I only looked at one or two entries that he called my attention to—there is one item there I remember; it is the sale of 1 ton supposed to be meal to Chittenden—that would be some date between the 5th and 12th

—the entry is, "Sale of stuff, 4l. 10s."—he showed me an I O U for 4l. 10s. from Chittenden; I think it was in pencil—here is another entry of 3rd December, "I ton meal mixture of some sort, 4l. 10s."—I did not see any entry with regard to Steitz; he simply told me that he had lent this stuff to Steitz, that it was a matter of kindness and accommodation to Steitz to let him have the use of this as a security—he said that 20 of the sacks had been disposed of by him as a mixture—I don't remember his telling me that Chittenden had informed him that he had resold his ton to a paper-maker at 6l. 10s. a ton—I have heard that statement, but I cannot fix the time or the place where I heard it—I will not undertake to say that it was not explained to me—I have heard that statement in the course of this case, but I cannot say whether I heard it then or subsequently—Buhler was not introduced to me by a person of high position, but the inquiries I made about him in banking circles were very much in his favour and very satisfactory to me.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. When I was examined before the Magistrate I said, "When Steitz called on me after I had advanced the money, I said to him 'This is a fraud,' and I showed him a specimen of the dough"—then I said "Who is behind you in this mattert"—he said "I did not know anything about the meal; I believed it to be genuine"—I said "I believe your bond fides, but suspect you have been made an instrument by some one else, and that is why I ask you who is behind you"—I did not then know of the agreement of 11th December—I advanced the 30l. after I had received Mr. Dale's report—Mr. Dale was the person who I suggested should see the mixture—Steitz at once acquiesced in that, and it was followed up and completed—I was quite satisfied with Mr. Dale's report—Mr. Dale said he had seen this, that it was a mixture, and he had shown it to some people in Mark Lane; that it was a mixture of flour containing an admixture of potato meal and some other starchy matters—Mr. Dale did not profess to be an analytical chemist—he is here to-day.

WILLIAM EDWARD FOWLER . I live at 20, Stowe Road, Shepherd's Bush—I was for a short time a director of the Anglo-Belgian Bank—I was there on 10th December last; Steitz was there when I arrived—I heard him apply to Mr. Alexander for an advance on certain stuff as he described it, or rather meal—I said "Why do you call it meal? is it flour?"—he shrugged his shoulders and said that the shippers, finding that the German word for meal was the same for wheaten flour as for meal of any description, applied that one word meal to the article—the advance he asked for was 60l. or 80l.—he said the meal had been given to him as security for a debt—I asked if he had authority to deal with it—he said "Yes. full authority"—he spoke of having been to the Imperial Bank—eventually he agreed to accept 30l.

CHARLES THOMAS DALE . I was asked by Mr. Alexander to examine a sample of meal; a sampling order accompanied it, but Mr. Alexander did not ca'l it meal—I examined it for value—I told Mr. Alexander what I thought it was worth, 5s. per cwt.—I treated it as meal, being called meal in the order, and I valued it as meal; I found it to be a mixture, I could not tell what of, but only applicable for manufacturing purposes, for making paper or stiffening Manchester goods, not for making bread.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have had 18 years' experience of most other commercial commodites of this kind, not of flour—I examined it with a view of giving an idea what the stuff would fetch in the market at a forced sale—it would have been sold by auction if I had had it to sell—it is impossible to say, after all this has got about, whether it is now

worth 5s. a cwt., but at that time I certainly believed it would have fetched that—sold to a paper-maker to sue and stiffen paper I have no doubt it would fetch 5l. a ton.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. When I went to inspect this meal Steitz was an entire stranger to me, I had never seen him before, nor since till he came up to my office afterwards—I never represented to Mr. Alexander that it was fit for food, the question was never entered upon—I never represented it as fit for food, but as a mixture, in my opinion worth 5s. a cwt.

Re-examined. I told Mr. Alexander that it would probably be used for manufacturing purposes only, for stiffening paper or bill sticking—I am quite sure I told that to Mr. Alexander—I said it might be sold for 5l. a ton or 5s. a cwt., as whatever it might happen to be; we sell things in that way in our market, the buyer has the privilege two or three days before the sale comes on of testing for himself—if I had to sell it now I should describe it according to the entry; after this I should describe it as a mixture of plaster-of-Paris and clay, before I should have described it as meal.

By the COURT. I said it probably contained potato meal and other starchy refuse; I might have used the word other "flour;" I am now satisfied that it did not contain any of those things, I take it it has been examined and analysed, I only examined it for commercial purposes.

HENRY WEBB (City Detective Sergeant). In consequence of instructions I received I called to make inquiries at Steitz's office—I went there three days—I did not see him there, I saw his clerk, and left a summons the last time I called—after that I went to Buhler's office, 64, Hop Exchange, and Steitz was there—I did not know him, but from the description I had I thought it was him—I said "Good morning, Mr. Steitz"—he said "Good morning"—I said "I have just called at your office in Trinity Lane and left a summons for you"—he said "All right, I have got it"—as I was speaking to him Buhler came up the stairs and I put a summons in his hand—he read it out aloud in the presence of myself, Mr. Tate, and Steitz—he then turned round to Steitz and said "When you went to Mr. Alexander's to get an advance, did you represent that as flour!"—Steitz said "No, I did not"—he said Mr. Alexander had an expert to examine it, Mr. Dale—I said "You took a letter from Mr. Alexander to Mr. Dale, did you not, to examine this"—he said "Yes, I did"—I said "You knew Mr. Dale before, I suppose"—he sad "Yes, I have seen him on several occasions"—I then said to Buhler "I have information that you sent a party of the name of Natzler to Mr. Barker's, 39, Mark Lane, with a good sample of flour and a transfer order that Mr. Tate gave you back?"—Buhler said, "Yes, 1 gave Mr. Natzler the order, as I wanted to sell the stuff; I advanced a man of the name of Jackson, of No. 4, Love Lane, 95l. on it, and I wanted to get rid of the stuff"—Mr. Tate then said to him, "You had no business to use my order, you ought to have left it at the Custom House, and not made use of my order after I had told you what the stuff was"—that was all that was said, we then left—the letter which has been read was found at Jackson's place, it was handed to me by the landlord, and I produce it—we cannot find Jackson, we have made every inquiry and believe he has gone abroad.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I don't remember Buhler saying that

Natzler had offered to buy it out and out for 60l., he said be bad handed the order to Natzler; he said he bad been swindled by Jackson out of 95l.—he did not show me any books.

CALEB HOWARD BROODBANK . I am in the employ of Ashton and Green, Limited, plaster-of-Paris manufacturers and merchants—I have had six years' experience of plaster-of-Paris, and have been accustomed to buy and sell it—I have seen a sample of the plaster-of-Paris in question, it is worth about 20s. per ton, we should sell it to builders—plaster-of-Paris is worth about 35s. a ton; this is not pure plaster-of-Paris it is uncalcined piaster, something is mixed with it that depreciates the value.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I am not a chemist; there are no persons in my department of greater experience than myself—I have had no experience in selling for stiffening paper—I do not know what farmers use—I can't say that I know the value of gypsum, or the value of stuff that bill-stickers use.

Re-examined. I never beard of plaster-of-Paris being used for bill-sticking.

CHARLES THOMAS DALE (Re-examined). At my first interview with Mr. Alexander, I mentioned that this stuff might be used for paper-making or bill-sticking, I am certain that I mentioned that at our first interview.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Saturday, April 5th, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

424. WILLIAM BOND (38) and THOMAS BUTCHER (21) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Frank Terry four dead pigs, with intent to defraud.

MR. GOODMAN Prosecuted; MR. DAVIS appeared for Bond, and MR. METCALFE for Butcher.

The Jury being unable to agree were discharged, and the case was postponed till the next Session.

ESSEX CASE.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

425. JAMES PALMER (25) , Stealing a watch, the goods of John Clearvox Fenwick, from his person.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. CROOME Defended.

JOHN CLEARVOX FENWICK . I am a solicitor at 58, Redcliffe Square, South Kensington—on Monday, February 24th, about 3 o'clock, I was on the Tidal Basin platform of the Great Eastern Railway station—there was a crowd—I was putting my son and my two daughters into the train, when Tompkins spoke to me, and on looking down I found my Albert chain hanging, and missed my watch—a constable caught bold of the prisoner, and I saw a watch just for a moment in his hand—on the way to the station the constable showed me my watch; the glass was then broken—it was not broken before—I charged him with stealing the watch—I did not see it fall from his hand.

Cross-examined. I had been waiting about five minutes at the railway-station—I wore an overcoat; I think the top button was buttoned; the

lower buttons were not—Tompkins was behind me; I. had not seen him or the prisoner before—I did not see a stud fall on the platform.

Re-examined. It was after I fetched the policeman I saw the watch in the prisoner's hand—I cannot say I was hugged before Tompkins spoke—there was much crushing and crowding.

GEORGE TOMPKINS . I am an umbrella maker, late of 43, Waverley Road, Harrow Road, Paddington—I was at the railway station when the prosecutor was endeavouring to put two ladies into a railway-carriage—I saw the prisoner go up behind him and place his hand on the prosecutor's right breast—I seized him immediately and said to the prosecutor, "You have lost your watch"—I called for assistance—a Great Eastern Railway constable came up and put his arm round the prisoner—he struggled, and I saw a watch on the ground near his feet, but I saw nothing fall—I made a mistake before the Magistrate—other railway officials came up, and the watch was picked up by the railway constable—I saw the prisoner shuffling his feet as if intending to kick it from the platfrom—the glass was broken.

Cross-examined. I went there to see the soldiers off, and was waiting for the train back to London—there were 150 to 200 people—I believe I told the Magistrate it was crowded—I may have said 100 persons at most—I was standing a little behind Mr. Fenwick, and could see the movements of the prisoner's elbow, and caught hold of his right hand directly it was on the prosecutor's breast—I said to the Magistrate, "I allowed him, as I thought, time to take the watch, and then I grappled with his hand"—I simply gave him time to get his hand there—I was standing about two yards away, and directly his hand got there I flew at him like a wild man—it was near the prosecutor's breast, but whether outside or under his overcoat I cannot tell—Boltwood the porter did not take hold of his left hand at the same time that I seized his right—he came up directly the cry of "Pickpockets!" wag raised, and caught hold of him—I was a little excited—I continued to hold the prisoner's hand till the policeman and the porter came—the policeman held him while I went for other assistance—the prisoner hugged the prosecutor before I caught hold of him, as though he was pushing to get into the train—there was quite a scramble to get into the carriage—a good many people went away in the train—about 12 people came up when I shouted—I heard Mr. Fenwick charge the prisoner, and he said at once, "You have made a mistake, I have not taken it"—I did not notice a watch in his hand when I seized him—I did not see or hear a solitaire fall, or see it picked up—the place was pretty clear, and the people were standing back about half a yard from the prisoner, and the first time I saw the watch it was at Black's feet.

Re-examined. Black had hold of the prisoner—I caught hold of him by the wrist.

HENRY BOLTWOOD . I am a porter at the Tidal Basin Station—on Monday, February 24th, I was on duty on the platform till 3 o'clock—about 3.10 a train came up, and I saw the prisoner on the platform—I saw him struggle with Tompkins—I went up to them—Tompkins had hold of him—I caught hold of the prisoner's left wrist, and he struggled violently—the company's constable came up and caught hold of his right hand—I heard something drop, and on looking down saw the watch on the platform—the prisoner made a kick at it, but the constable picked it up—we took him outside.

Cross-examined. I first saw the prisoner when Tompkins had hold of him—he held him from behind, and I came up and caught hold of him by both wrists—I was there about half a minute before Black—he struggled and got one wrist away just as the constable came up—I did not notice anything in his hand—Black had hold of his right hand, I had his left—I then heard something fall, saw the watch, and saw Black pick it up—I did not see a solitaire—there was not a large crowd, but more than a score—they were not pressing round—there might have been a dozen or two within a foot or two—there was more than that on the platform—I did not hear the prisoner charged—there were some 200 people on the platform.

WILLIAM BLACK (Railway Constable). On Monday, the 24th, I was on duty at the Tidal Basin about 3 p.m., and my attention was drawn to the prisoner—Tompkins had hold of him—the porter caught hold of his coat from behind, and I caught hold of his right arm and felt this watch in his right sleeve—I could not see it—I saw it fail from his sleeve on to the platform—I saw a stud afterwards outside.

Cross-examined. I was about five yards away when I saw Tompkins and Boltwood holding him—Tompkins was standing on his left holding the prisoner's left hand—Boltwood stood behind holding him by the coat—there is no mistake about that—I went up at once, and took hold of him with my left arm round the muscle of his right, with my left hand round his coat-sleeve and wrist—no one else had hold of the right arm—I felt with my thumb something hard in his sleeve—I had heard he was charged with stealing a watch, but was not sure till I saw the watch fall out of his sleeve—I did not tell any one—I swear it was not a solitaire—I did not hear anything fall before I saw the watch fall—I picked it up immediately—I saw the stud shortly afterwards drop from the prisoner's sleeve outside the platform—I might have said before the Magistrate, "a stud also fell" without saying outside—I heard him charged at the station—I will not swear he did not deny it—I did not listen to the answer—I did not see a railway ticket found on him—there were a great many people on the platform.

Re-examined. I saw the watch on the platform, and saw the solitaire picked up outside the platform.

ARTHUR CHAPMAN (Policeman). On Monday, at 3.30, I was on duty at the Tidal Basin Station, and the prisoner was handed over to me for stealing a watch—he said he did not take it—at the police-station he gave his name James Palmer, 36, Park Road, Kentish Town—I could not find it, only Park Street, Camden Town.

Cross-examined. It was the first time I was there—36, Park Street, Camden Town, was void—I could not find it at Kentish Town—there was a Park Road, Tavistock Hill—I made inquiries—I found on him a single ticket to Camden Town from that station—he told me he came to see the troops off.

SYDNEY SMITH . I am Governor of Newgate, and have had the prisoner in custody since his committal—I received from the chief warder these fragments of a letter.

ROBERT MAPPERSON (Chief Warder). I had charge of the prisoner, and received the letter in the prisoner's presence from one of the assistant warders—it was sewn in the collar of a soiled shirt he was passing out to a visitor—I saw the papers taken from the shirt in the prisoner's presence, and I handed them to the governor.

SIDNEY SMITH (Re-examined). It is the kind of paper used in the waterclosets—I asked him how he could think of doing such a thing; ha begged my pardon, and hoped I should forgive him. (Letters read: "Dear Sir,—I thank you with all my heart, and should I get of I will give you 20l. myself—when the Concilor for the Prosecution ask you if you sec my hand on the prosecutor's waistcoat be sure you say no. if he aske you if. the Prisoner was the only one close to the prosecutor say no. say there was other people on his right side say I the prisoner was towards the left side when the concilor for prosecutor ask you if I struggled say on (no?) say that constable came up before the porter say about two minutes or so say you be sure you say that you see some one else pick the watch give it to constable say that there was a good many people standing round the crowd while you and the constable had hold of me be sure you say that the prisoner was standing about two or three feet behind the prosecutor. Say two man came up to the prisoner said something and the prisoner went toward the platform and that they went away, say that you see the constable pick up the prisoner's solitaire be sure you so say that you see some one pick up the watch and give it to the constable Dear Sir all that I have asked you say to both the concelor. Sir you need not be frighten nor any other witnesses while in Court while you are giving your evidence Dear Sir you might say to the prosecutor do not say that you see the watch in his hand because it will make both out liars. get him on the quiet away from the others tell him it will be the best say to him that the conselor for the prosecutor say one thing say it to him just before he go into Court you pretend to instruction him for the best. dear sir, and you might say to the constable, If I were you I should not say you saw the watch drop from his sleeve. Dear sir, he is only a flat; you can do anything with him. Get him with yourself, sir; you can say the to both of them, and of them will know that you have spoke to either of them Dear sir, I hope you will say all in my favour. Yours sincerely."—"Dear Nelly, I am glad to know that the witness all right a I am thankful to for and will anything for you. Dear Nelly, what I ask you pray do it Save me from 7 years, Nelly dear. You can save me if you do that I ask you, if you do it quick Now that you have all the witness all right send him the 20l. before he alter his mind; so dear will you be quick quick before it's too late. Send him the 20l. all at once; if you don't send it give it to Angoline to take. Dear Nelly, now listen to me what I say and do what I say. It is no good going to the prosecutor without the money, 60l. He will have to give 40l. up, and I am sure it worth 20l. to save me from 7 years. Dear Nell, if he take the money and want to apare if he say that he will get me of give him the 60l. just the same. Be sure you do that If ha won't have anything to do with it be sure of saving me go at once to the witness and give him 40l. more he know how to get me off Dear Nelly: do as I tell you and you can save me. Dear Nelly I ask you to all that I tell Angoline to ask you do just what she tell you it is for me and I say that you can trust her just the same as if it was in your own pocket I tell you the truth so now my dear sister I beg of you to send the 20l. at once to the witness before it gone he alter his mind so do give it to Liza or to Angoline to take at once before it is too late and dear Nell give Angoline 2l. to have in her pocket in case she want it for anything on the morning. Nell pray do as I tell you I can only tell you the way you can save me Nell. Nelly Nelly pay save me. Do send the money all that I ask you.

It is no good without the money so be sure Kelly take the money with you and if the Prosecutor won't hare anything to do with it take the 40l. to the witness, he will get me off if you give him 40l. but try the Prosecutor first. Dear Nelly do save me. J. C. E. Lawrence Fenwick, 58, Redcliffe Square, South Kensington, Solicitor. Dear Nelly give Angoline 2l. in case she want it for anything on the morning of my trial She would give it you back if she is wanted. Love to you Nelly."—"To Ellen Brown, 202, St. John Street, Clerkenwell."

GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction in May, 1871, at Marlborough Street Police-court, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

KENT CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Stephen.

426. GEORGE MYDDLETON (25) , Feloniously killing and slaying Joseph Barton.

MR. GEOHEGAN Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.

After the opening by MR. GEOGHEGAN, MR. JUSTICE STEPHEN, having read the depositions, was of opinion that there was scarcely a case to go to the Jury.

MR. GEOHEGAN thereupon offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY . Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

427. JAMES MORRIS (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Alfred Hearson, and stealing a cigar-case, a coffeepot cover, and other articles, his property.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

THOMAS ALFRED HEARSON . I live at 4, Glenmore Terrace, Hyde Vale, Greenwich—on 19th or 20th December I went to Devonshire to spend Christmas—I locked up the house, fastened the windows, and saw everything secure, leaving the key with Mrs. Lucas—no one was in the house—on January 1 received a telegram, returned home on the 2nd, and found that the door leading from the front parlour had been broken open and very much injured from the inside—I had left it locked and the key on the outside—a person inside the room would have to force the door open—the front-parlour window-fastening had a mark which might have been produced by a sharp instrument in opening it from outside—the fire tongs were missing, and I have since received them from the police very much injured—I found the top room, the servant's bedroom, very much disordered, and the bed-clothes thrown in a heap on the floor—I missed a toast-rack from the room adjoining, which I have since received from the police, and a cigar-case, butter-dish, and cover—I also missed a box of mathematical instruments and a coat, which have not been recovered—the value of the whole was about 12l.

MORRIS CHETWIND . I live at 9, Glenmore Terrace, Greenwich—on 1st January, between 1 and 2 o'clock, two ladies spoke to me, in consequence of which I went to 4 Glenmore Terrace, tried the street door, and found it fastened—the parlour window was open and the blind down—I got through the window into the parlour, and found the door broken open—I went into the hall, looked up the staircase, and saw two men looking over the ballusters—the prisoner is one, and the other was O'Neil, who has been tried

and sentenced (See page 338)—this was in the day too—one of them had a pair of tongues in his hand—I went to the front parlour and they rushed to the front door—I ran after them, caught O'Neil, and gave him in custody—the prisoner escaped, but I have not the slightest doubt about him—I saw him with about five others at the station, and pointed him out at once.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said at first that I did not like to pick you out, but I did two or three minutes afterwards—I did not pick out any other man before that—the detective did not touch my arm or whisper in my ear—I have no doubt about you.

ALFRED BRETT . I keep the Barley Mow pubh-hou«e, Greenwich—on let January, about 1.30 p.m., I passed 4, Glenmore Terrace and heard a noise in some bushes in front of the houses—turned to see what it was and saw two men rush out from No. 4—in desconding the steps one of them tripped up—that was O'Neil, who has been convicted—the other man ran in the direction of Royal Hill—Mr. Chetwind seized O'Neil; I went to assistance, and then saw the prisoner turn round and look in a hesitating manner—I saw his face and am morally certain he is the man—I saw him at the station with four or five others, and said without any hesitation, "To the best of my belief that is the man."

Cross-examined. I was in front of you—you rushed past me—I did not know what was the matter till two ladies called out that a burglarv had been committed—I then ran after you.

LEWIS CROFT (Police Sergeant R 14). On 1st January, at 1 45, I was called to 4, Glenmore Terrace and found the front parlour door open and very much damaged, and a slight mark on the window catch—I found a toast-rack on the first landing and two parts of a pair of tongs in the hall—in the front garden of Wilton House, which is a few doors farther on, I found this butter-dish cover and cigar case.

THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). On 1st January I received a description of the man who escaped, in consequence of which I arrested the prisoner on 18th March, in Lewisham—I had been looking for him in the interval—I knew him before—I said 'I shall take you in custody, Jim, for being concerned, with Jeremiah O'Neil, in custody, for breaking and entering No. 4, Glenmore Terrace, Hyde Vale, Greenwich, in January last"—he said "I don't know anything about it, you have made a mistake this time—I took him to the station, he was placed with four others as near his own description as I could find, and Mr. Brett pioked him out on the 18th—the prisoner said that he had made a mistake—Mr. Chetwind saw him on the morning of the 19th with five others, and was asked if he knew any one there—he said "Wait a minute," and pointed with his stick to the Prisoner I said "Touch him," and he touched the prisoner—I have seen him and U'Neil together several times, and saw them together two days before January 1st—the prisoner was residing in the neighbourhood of Deptford some time before 1st January, but since then I never could find him.

Cross-examined. I saw you on the Tuesday before the Friday on which I apprehended you, but I did not take you then because I was on the sick list and I only got a glimpse of you as you passed—I had a parcel on my arm and it was no use running after you.

EMMA MARTIN . I am unfortunate and live at Mill Lane, Greenwich—about Christmas time the prisoner said to me "I have got a jacket for sale"—I

said "I have no money"—he said "Well, I will go and ask my mate"—as I was going up the street, Hornsby, a companion of the prisoner, came out of a lodging-house and gave me the jacket—the prisoner was on the other side, and he said he would give it to me to-night—I was to give him 1s. for it, and I did so, about 7.15, when I had it on—I put this fur on it.

Cross-examined. Hornsby gave me the jacket and took the money, but you were with him.

EMMA HOLE . On 1st January I was in Mr. Hearson's service and went into Devonshire with him—before leaving I put my room in order and left this jacket in the spare room, but there was no fur on it—I did not lock the door—I came back on January 2nd, and missed the jacket.

Prisoner's Defence. I work hard for my living, and was never accused of stealing—I am mistaken for another chap—I am always at work.

GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.

SURREY CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Stephen.

428. ALAN JOHN MITCHELL (32) , Feloniously setting fire to certain furze, the property of Robert William Webb, with intent to injure.

MR. DE MICHELB and MR. HEWITT Prosecuted; MR. LILLEY Defended.

WILLIAM LILLTWHITE . I am keeper to Mr. Robert William Webb, Lord of the Manor of Witley, in the county of Surrey—on 9th March I saw some fires burning on the common—I went to find a friend, Mr. Budd—I went in front of the Red Lion public-house, about 10 o'clock; I saw Alan Mitchell there, and heard him use the expression that he would burn the b——common out—I then went and concealed myself a little distance from the Hammer Ponds, about half a mile from the public-house—I saw the fires burning from the direction of the public-house all along the road—I saw the prisoner and two other men, Keen and Elwyn, coming along the road towards the Hammer Ponds; they came close to where I was watching—I heard Keen say, "Don't do it, Alan, you are a fool if you do, there is some one watching?"—the prisoner then stepped back in the road for a few seconds, he then came towards the bushes, a little above where he was the first time, and I moved from the place where I was watching close where he came across, and I distinctly saw him take the matches from his clothes, light them, and put them into the bushes, and light the bushes in several different places—I was a little over two yards from him at the time, not three yards—the common was burning in six or seven different places at that time—I said to him," Alan, what are you doing this for? are you not right now?"—he did not make any reply—I told him he would hear of it—Keen came up at the time and said, "If we put it out, I suppose that will do?"

Cross-examined. I had been out nearly all the evening; I left home just before seven—no fires were burning at that time—there was one fire between 7 and 8, but not in the Milward Manor—our manor is the Witley Manor; it is all the same, some call it Witley and some Milward, they are not in different parts, they are both in one; it is in Milward Manor—I saw one fire in the Pepper Harrow Manor a little after seven—some of the fires burnt up nearly close to the Red Lion—the fire at Pepper Harrow was nearly a mile from the fire I saw burning at Witley—there was

a fire burning before ten against the Red Lion—I saw several men outside the Bed Lion at the time I saw the prisoner; it was about closing time—they close at ten, that made me think it was about ten, as the landlord was closing his house—several of the men who came out of the Red Lion came down the road, but they were not down where I saw the fire; there was Keen and Elwyn and the prisoner, them three—I saw Keen a little distance from the Red Lion—I saw several men down the road, I don't know whether they had been in the Red Lion or not—it was about 11 o'clock when I saw the prisoner light the furze—the night was very moonlight, and the fires round were nearly as bright as day; there were over 7 or 8 fires burning between 10 and 11 o'clock—at the time I saw him there there were 6 or 7 fires buring in different places, most of them alight at the side of the road—Budd was with me during the time I saw the prisoner, but he was not so close as I was quite when I saw him—I was a little more than two yards from him when I saw him set it on fire—I cannot say exactly how far Budd was from me; several yards, four or five, or five or six when we were concealed in the furze—I was concealed close to the road, close to the bank at the side of the road, when the prisoner came first I was not a yard from him—I know one bush that he set on fire, and was scorched and put out—it was about 8 feet from the road where he set it on fire; not so far where it was put out—a man walking along the high road would be about 8 feet from where he set it on fire—where the fire burnt to was not so far as where he set it on fire, because it burnt down the bank towards the road, where they put it out—I have resided at Thursley all my life—I only know two men there called Alan—I have hoard of a madman who is called Alan, but he was not there at the time—it is not a very common name in that part of the county.

Re-examined. The bush I speak of is the bush I was hiding behind; that was about 8 feet from the high road—there were no more fires that night after I spoke to the prisoner—he was coming quite away from his own home—there was no one close to him at the time I saw him light the fire—Elwyn was something like 30 yards below him when he set fire to the bush, nearer the Hammer Ponds—Keen was nearer to him; Elwyn was in front of the prisoner, nearer the Hammer Ponds, away from the Red Lion—Keen was not so far, something like 12 yards I should say.

By the COURT. Keen was not so far as 12 yards from him when he said "Don't do it, Alan," that was just before he lit the fire; after that was said Keen walked on—Elwyn was a little in front of him when he said "Don't do it, Alan."

WILLIAM BUDD . I live at the Silk Mills in Thursley—I was with Lillywhite on the night of the 9th of March; in consequence of something that he had seen he asked me to go out with him; I went with him towards where the fire was burning—we hid ourselves in the bushes; I was very near, close to him when we hid ourselves—I afterwards changed my position; I was then, I should think, about 8 or 9 yards from him—I went back a little way after that—I heard some one say "Don't you do it, Alan"—then I heard Lilly white say "Alan, what are you doing that for? I have caught you now."

Cross-examined. I was at the Red Lion that night; it was Sunday—I left just as they were shutting up; that was 10 o'clock—there were several people about there; there were a good many about the road, and a good

many went down the road—I said before the Justices at Guildford "There were lots of people down the road"—there were a number of people on the road at the time I and Lilly white were watching—I can't tell whose voice it was that said "Don't do it, Alan"—I did not see anything done by anybody—I saw a fire alight; I did not see who lighted it—I mentioned the name "Alan" when I was before the Bench at Guildford—I know two Alans in the neighbourhood of Thursley, no more, I don't think I do.

By the COURT. The two I know are Alan Mitchell, the prisoner, and Alan Elwyn—I did not see Alan Elwyn that night.

CHARLES FREDERICK NORTON (Policeman 50 Surrey Constabulary). I apprehended the prisoner at the Horse Shoe Inn on 10th March—I charged him with setting fire to the common, the property of the lord of the manor—he said "If you want me for anything I did last night, why don't you summons me, and not take me now?"—he said "Will you let me go home to change my clothes?"—I accompanied him to his house, and allowed him to go upstairs to change his clothes, and I stood at the foot of the stairs—I then found that he had escaped by jumping out of the upstairs window—I did not see him do it—he did not come downstairs—I next saw him in a lane at the back of the house, from his mother's garden—I went after him—as soon as he saw me get over the fence he started running; I ran after him, and eventually caught him—he afterwards said "I know I went down the road last night, but I was drunk, and if I did anything wrong I did, but I don't know it"—he also said "I was close to the bush when Lilly white came out, but I did not light it"—I had previously cautioned him—he lives about half a mile from the Bed Lion—the place where the last fire was has been pointed out to me—that was not in the direction from the Red Lion to the prisoner's house—if he were to go home from the Red Lion in a straight line, he would not come in the direction where the fire was, not anywhere near it, not within half a mile, I should say.

Cross-examined. After he went upstairs I could not hear him moving about and I went up—then I went into the garden and saw him walking down the lane—he was walking along the lane talking to a woman—she was about 2 yards behind him; he was looking back as if he was speaking to her—he did not run far before I caught him; he turned into a gateway and I caught him there—he said, "I won't run away"—he lives with his widowed mother—the cottage is not very high.

FREDERICK ROTHWELL . I am bailiff to Mr. "Webb, lord of the manor of Witley—I have had the spot pointed out to me Where the fire was; it is within Mr. Webb's manor of Witley.

Cross-examined. I saw the bush that was said to have been set on fire; it was about 8 feet from hard road—the bush was burnt and the grass stuff round it from the droppings of the bush, about 4 feet square altogether.

Re-examined. It was a place where it might have spread if it had not been put out—about 40 acres was burnt close by.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ALBERT KEEN . I live at Thursley—on Sunday evening, the 9th, I was at the Red Lion—the prisoner was there, and Alan Elwyn, and a lot more—when the house was closed I and the others turned back towards the Hammer Ponds: there were seven of us who went down the road as far as the Hammer Ponds—there were three in our company, the prisoner, Alan Elwyn, and I—the others were about 4 yards from us, close behind; they were Jerry

dark, James "Wisdom, Robert Walker, Hughy Mitchell, and William Carver—we three went down as far as the Hammer Ponds—I saw Lilly white go across the road; he came along the road—the prisoner did not leave us to go into the furze while we were together—he did not light any match and put it into the furze—he was smoking—I do not know who Lilly white spoke to; he did speak; there are two Alans—he said, "Alan, that is good enough"—we returned back up the road just afterwards towards the public-house—the prisoner did not go away from us; he could not go without my knowing it—I did not say to him, "Don't do it, Alan; you are a fool if you do, there is some one watching"—we did not separate before we got home; I live about 100 yards from the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I was not examined before the Magistrate; this is the first time I have given my evidence in public—I have been in a little trouble; it was not about poaching; I don't know what it was; I never heard nothing—I have never been in prison—I was convicted and fined for poaching—I and Elwyn and the prisoner were together at the Red Lion, and we did not separate till we got home—I live at Thursley—if I were to go from the Red Lion to Thursley I should not go past the Hammer Ponds; we were out looking at the fire; in going home we should not have to pass this bush—I did not hear Lillywhite say anything—I heard him say "Alan, that is good enough"—I saw a fire break out just before; there were ever so many fires then—the bush was burning when Lillywhite said that—I went and kicked it out—I did not say "If we put it out I suppose it will be all right," or anything of that kind—I did not say anything about putting it out—I mean to say that I saw the fire without saying anything—I saw all these fires along the road—I did not see who lighted them—I did not try and find out who lighted them.

Re-examined. There is a common all the way down between the Red Lion and the Hammer Ponds; the fires I saw were joining the turnpike road, about 18 inches from the road—I saw five or six fires burning close to the road, within a few inches of it—I don't know as any one in my company or in my presence set fire to any of them—the fires kept lighting up all along; they kept burning, one catching the other—no fire was lighted by us three—the other four followed us close down the road—there were people in front of us going down the road—they were not many rods ahead of us.

By the COURT. We three had gone out to look at the fires, that waft the reason we did not go straight home—there was a lot came down the road to look at them—we stopped and looked at the fires; not sometimes. one and sometimes the other, we were all together, we all three kept together the whole way; I am quite sure of that—Lillywhite came out of the road by the side of the ponds, he did not come down the turnpike road; he came from the side of the road, from the furze—I do not know whether he came out of the furze or whether he came along the road; he came out of the road when I saw him—there is a cross road there that goes down to his house; he came out of that cross road; I did not see him on the cross road before he got to the main road—I saw him go that way—he must have come along through the bushes and out into the road—he came out of one road, across the bushes into the turnpike road, he cut the corner; I saw him go from the turnpike into the cross road—I was on the turnpike—he never spoke to me, he spoke to the two Alans—he was close to the cross road then—he came down from the Red Lion along with us, down the turnpike way; he came along with us pretty near close before he left us; he was

behind us till we stopped on the road, then he went in front—when wo got near the place where the two roads met, Lillywhite crossed the corner towards the cross road, through the furze—when he got near to the cross road, which goes to his house, he turned back and said "Alan, that is good enough"—I don't know what had happened to make him say that; I did not ask him, he went straight off, and we never saw him any more—we turned round and went straight home—he did not say anything about having caught anybody—the bush that was on fire was on the other side of the Hammer Ponds—that was close to the place where the two roads met.

ALAN ELWYN . 1 am a labourer living at Thursley—on Sunday evening, 9th March, I was at the lied Lion—at closing time a number of men went out; there might have been dozens or. fifty down the road looking at the fire—when we came out I saw some fires on the common—I went down the road; there were six or seven of us—there waft me and Keen, the prisoner, Robert Walker, Bill Carter, and Hughy Mitchell, a nephew of the prisoner—we went down the road nearly as far as the Hammer Ponds—when we got there we turned round to come back again, only we waited for the prisoner, me and Keen did; we did not get quite so far as the Ponds—the others turned round before us three—Keen and the prisoner and I were together, all close—the prisoner was close to us when we waited for him, three or four yards off; it might be more; not behind us—we went three or four yards farther than him; we were below him, lower down the hill; we waited for him because he was making water—he did not go into the furze; he never went out of the road; he was standing in the road when he did it—I never saw him light a match—I was in his company all the evening—I could not say whether he was smoking or not—the others had gone back—we saw one come out into the road and go back into the bushes again, and we said most likely he set it alight—we then turned round; we did not want to go any lower; we went up the road again in the direction of the Red Lion—I live about a stone's throw from the prisoner—we went home—I can't say that I saw Lillywhite; I heard him; I could swear to him by his voice—I heard him say, "All right, Alan, that is good enough; that will do"—when he said that he came out into the turnpike road talking to the prisoner, but he never saw his face at all when he was out in the road; his back was to him—there is a cross road just where this happened, and he seemingly came out of that road; it comes up close to the Pond, and he went back that way too—you could cut off the corner there by going through the furze—I did not hear Keen say to the prisoner, "Alan, don't do it; you are a tool if you do; there is somebody watching"—I must have heard him if he said so.

Cross-examined. The prisoner and Keen and I walked down the road together from the Red Lion—we were close to the prisoner when he was making water, we never left him, we were three or four yards in front of him; I turned round and saw him—I can swear we were not so yards ahead of him—I was not called before the Magistrates at Guildford, this is the first time I have been examined in this matter—it was not in our direction home to go down to the Hammer Ponds, we walked down to see the fire—I did not light any of the fires, most decidedly not; I can answer for myself and I did not see tho rest.

By the COURT. The other four men were just back up the road, 20 yards I should think—when I heard Lillywhite speak to the prisoner, he was about

three or four yards behind us—Lilly white seemed to come from the direction of the cross-road; ho might come through the furze, he came to the turnpike and then turned back to the cross-road—he was not at the Bed Lion with us, he was at the Half-Moon in the afternoon, before the fires were lit up; I was not at the Half-Moon—some people came from there and said there was a fire on the common—I saw Lilly white in the road just before, perhaps about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, he walked down with Bampton and his wife from Hammer Ponds—I did not see him come up from Hammer Ponds, but he must have come up from there—they were going back towards the Ponds when I saw him first—he passed us as we were standing in the road looking at the fires; it was after that that he spoke to the prisoner, I could not say how long after—sometimes we walked a little way, then stopped to look at the fire—I did not hear the prisoner say anything to Lilly white when Lilly white spoke to him—I was in company with Keen at the Bed Lion—I came with Keen and the prisoner nearly to the Ponds; Lilly white did not come with us from the Bed Lion—when we got near the place where the cross-road is we saw some one we thought was Lilly white come up in the road; he came from the same side that he came out of afterwards, he did not come from the cross-road to the turnpike, he came from the bushes—he came out of the road into the turnpike, and went back again.

Re-examined. I say positively that I never set fire to the fume, and I never saw anybody esle; if either Keen or the prisoner had done it, I must have seen it—I knew Lillywhite before, and knew he was the keeper.

GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

429. HENRY EDGINGTON (24) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously setting fire to certain furze with a like intent:— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

430. SAMUEL ELLIOTT (36) , B—st—y. MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

431. JOHN MARTIN (32) , Feloniously wounding Ernest Day with intent to murder. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. BISLELY Prosecuted.

ERNEST DAY . I am the brother of Francis Day, a paper maker, of 10, Princes Street, Stamford Street; he has a warehouse at a railway arch in Cornwall Road, close by—the prisoner was employed there as a pressman—I am manager of the indoor business, 1 have power to dismiss servants employed by my brother—on Monday evening, 3rd March, I went to the warehouse about 6 o'clock—the men work from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.—I noticed the prisoner in the warehouse, he was perfectly intoxicated—I asked what he meant by being intoxicated in the hours of his work—he turned round and swore at me, and said he was not—I ordered him out of the place, he swore at me most awfully, and said he would not go—he walked towards the door, and in walking he was so drunk that he stumbled over some iron presses, and fell, and, I believe, he injured himself, but I did not notice at the time—he got up and went on swearing—I ordered two of the workmen to put him out, and the door was closed—ho rang the bell and created a disturbance outside—I sent for an officer, and he was taken away—I saw no more of him that night—next morning about 9 o'clock I saw him standing outside the Salutation public-house in

Princes Street, next door to our counting-house—he was perfectly sober then—I did not speak to him—about half past 10, on going towards the doorway, the prisoner walked towards me from the Salutation, and asked me whether I would give him back his job—I said "Certainly not, after the way you conducted yourself last night I will have nothing more to do with you, be off about your business"—I turned to go into the counting-house, my head was partly in the office when I felt a blow on my left ear—no word was uttered till I felt the blow—I then turned round, and the prisoner said something—he had a brick held up and was about striking me again, saying he would do for me—I put up my hand and caught his wrist as he was going to strike me again with the brick, and whether I took it out of his hand, or whether it fell, I am not certain, for I became insensible, and was taken to the hospital—for 20 days I was not able to take off my clothes or go to bed—I suffered very much, and I suffer now—the injury is still visible—I am partly deaf with that ear—I did not use bad language to the prisoner on the Monday night, or strike him—he did not say to me on Tuesday morning, "Why did you cut my head yesterday?"—I did not say I would give him a great deal more—it is not true that after he struck me with the brick I struck him three times on the head with it, and then followed him into the middle of the road and struck him again—it is all decidedly untrue—I have given a true account to the best of my belief.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were coming down a ladder on the Monday night and fell—you were intoxicated, and I told you to put on your coat and go—I did not strike you in your left eye and knock you down over the irons, I never put my hands upon you—when I sent for a policeman you said "That is what I am looking after."

JAMES KENNY . I am a carman employed by Mr. Francis Day—on Monday, 3rd March, I was at the warehouse when Mr. Ernest told the prisoner to go home—I did not see him fall, or see him put out—after work, about 9.20, I was at the Salutation and saw the prisoner there; he was the worse for drink; I beard him say "God blind me, I will have Mr. Ernest's b——life"—he said that two or three times to me and two or three or more—on the Tuesday morning between 10.30 and 11 o'clock I saw the prisoner outside the Salutation and saw him speaking to Mr. Ernest, and as he turned to go into the office I saw the prisoner bring out this brick and deliberately strike Mr. Ernest on the head with it—I did not hear him say anything—I ran up and saw the prisoner beat Mr. Ernest in the body on to the ground; he fell, and the prisoner fell on the top of him; I got hold of the prisoner by the shoulders to lift him up—he said "Jim, you keep back, or I will give you a bit of steel"—at that time Mr. Ernest was insensible on the ground—the prisoner then went up the street—Mr. Pay had not used any violence to him.

ALFRED SMITH . I am a workman employed at the warehouse—I was there on the 3rd March—I heard Mr. Ernest Day tell the prisoner to put on his coat and go—he made a strike at Mr. Ernest, and me and my mate took hold of him and said "Come along, Jack, we had better get outside"—he broke away from me and hit Mr. Ernest in the chest—I fetched a policeman—about 9.15 that same night I was at the Salutation and heard the prisoner say "God blind me I won't get that for nothing; I will b——well settle him."

Cross-examined. I did not gee Mr. Ernest knock you down, or strike you

at all—I did not see you with a black eye on the Monday night—your head was cut; I don't know how—I told you I was going for a policeman, and you said "That is just the b——thing I want."

WILLIAM FOWLES . I am foreman to Mr. Francis Day—I was at work at the warehouse—on the Monday the prisoner was drunk, and Mr. Ernest told him to go—I did not see him fall—I was at the public-house afterwards, and the prisoner said I was Mr. Ernest's b——foreman, and was as bad as him, and then he said "I don't blame you, Bill."

FRANK DAY . I am nephew to the prosecutor—I picked up a piece of brick that was broken off the brick close to the counting-house door—I gave it to the police—I saw the prisoner give my uncle the blow with the brick—my uncle did not strike him.

JOHN TANNER , M.R.C.S. I attended Mr. Ernest Day on 4th March—the upper portion of the left ear was cut right across to the extent in depth of about half or three-quarters of an inch, and was smashed entirely off; it could not be found; we searched for it; the head was cut into down to the skull-bone to the extent of about three inches—this brick was shown to me at the time; it had blood on it; it was a very hard brick, and the cut was exactly the kind of cut as would have arisen from a blow with such a weapon—it must have been a very violent blow, but from the ear interposing the force of the blow, if that had not acted as a buffer in stopping the force of the blow, he would have been either paralysed or killed—he still suffers pain—he is permanently disfigured—he had to keep in one position for some days—when he attempted to lie down for two or three weeks he had such intense pain in the head I was afraid he would have abscesses there—it was a very serious injury; he was in danger of his life for a considerable time.

Prisoner's Defence. On the Monday night I was very grossly insulted in the governor's place. I had been at work going on four years there, and never had any quarrels. I have been a quiet, hard-working man. It was Mr. Ernest's fault that this row was caused between us; if he had not insulted me on the Monday night this would not have happened. I did not intend to inflict such punishment on him as I have done.

GUILTY on Second Count .**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

432. WILLIAM TURNER (24) , Feloniously carnally knowing and abusing Ellen King, a girl aged 5 years and 2 months.—MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. COOKE Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

433. WILLIAM TURNER was again indicted for assaulting the same child, and occasioning actual bodily harm.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. Before Mr. Recorder.

434. WILLIAM STYLES (42) , Unlawfully obtaining two orders for the payment of 85l. 9s. and 15l. 10s. 4d., of John Cockburn, by false pretences.

MR. HOLLINGS Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.

The case being partially heard, and there being no evidence to negative the alleged false pretences, the Jury found the prisoner

NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

435. MARY LLOYD (64) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, having been convicted of a like offence in May, 1877.— Two Years' Imprisonment.

436. WILLIAM HALL (19) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. MEAD Prosecuted.

WILLIAM PROWSE . I keep a beerhouse at 52, Vauxhall Walk, Lambeth—on 7th January, at 10.45, I served the prisoner with a pint of ale warm, which came to 2d.; he gave me this bad shilling (produced)—tried it with my teeth, and the prisoner said to a woman who was with him "It is a b——sight too hot for me, let us go," and they left in a hurry, leaving the beer—I went out, saw them 40 or 50 yards off, and gave the prisoner in charge—he said "I have not been in the house"—I said "It is no use your denying it," and he then said "I think I did go in and have a pint of ale just this minute"—he was not drunk, but he pretended to be.

ALFRED TYLER (Police Sergeant L 3). The prisoner was given into my custody and I charged him with passing the bad shilling—he said "I have not been in the house"—Prouse said "You know you have been in my house"—he denied it several times, but ultimately he said "I know I have been in the house and had a pint of ale"—he did not say "I think"—I searched him at the station and found 10d. on him—he was remanded till January 15th and discharged on the 22nd, as only one case was proved against him.

Cross-examined. You had been drinking, but you knew what you were about.

EMMA ADCOCK . I keep a tobacconist's shop at 86, Union Street, Southwark—on Saturday, 8th, or Monday, 10th March, the prisoner came in about 6 o'clock for half an ounce of tobacco, and gave me, with his left hand, a shilling—I put it in the till and gave him 10 1/2 d. change—I noticed that he had his right arm fixed across his breast as if he could not move it, and he had a clay pipe between his fingers—I said "Dear me, shall I fill your pipe for you?"—I don't think he made any answer, but there was such a traffic in the street that I cannot say—on March 11th, about 8 p.m., he came again for half an ounce of tobacco, and I recognised him; his hand was fixed across in the same way—he tendered a shilling, I put it in my mouth anil bent it—I said nothing, but kept it in my hand, went quickly round the counter to the shop door; he pushed me on one side and ran across the road—I did not run after him, I could not leave the shop—I examined the silver which I had received from Tuesday to Thursday night and found a bad florin and five bad shillings—I put the shilling I received from the prisoner with them and took them all to the station—I mixed them and cannot tell which one the prisoner gave me—on 12th March I was fetched to the station and saw the prisoner there with three others—I could not recognise him at first, but directly he moved I knew his face—I did not notice his hand then, that did not assist me, it was his face and eyes—I have not the least doubt he is the man.

Cross-examined. I did not pick out another man at the station, but I failed to pick you out at first because I could not see your eyes, they were cast down. (The prisoner here exhibited his arm, which was bent at the wrist.) I saw your face, but I was flurried—I looked at one at the end, and then I paused—the inspector did not ask me if I could see anybody else.

GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant M). I took the prisoner on 12th

March, at 9.30, from a description given me by the inspector at a lodging house, 16, Mint Street—Walsh said "We want you for passing bad money "—he said "It is not me you want"—we took him to the station—he was placed with four or five others, and just before the prosecutrix was called in he turned his collar up, pressed his hat over his eyes, and put both hands in his pockets—she then walked up and down the row, looked at the last man in the corner, and said "I think it was like this young man"—I called the prisoner up to the window and said "Show the inspector your hands "—he did so, and the prosecutorix said "That is the young man, I will swear to him, I know him by his eyes and his voice, as well as by his hand"—he had spoken then; he had said "It is all over, I have done you, Walsh, I have done you again"—he was then charged, and said "l am not the man."

Cross-examined. I did not take you to the station on the Saturday for having six hair-brooms on your shoulder—I have not been trying to stop your getting an honest living—I took you out of bed with two companions, one of whom got penal servitude, but there was no police evidence in the case—you have not been getting an honest living ever since you were last charged with uttering.

JAMES WALSH (Detective Officer). I was with Harvey when the prisoner was taken—he was placed with four other men at the station, and he put his coat collar up, his hat down over his eyes, and his hands in his pockets—I said "You may settle yourself as you like, we are not going to interfere with you"—the prosecutrix came in, walked up and down, and looked at one man, an I could not identify him—Sergeant Harvey called the prisoner up to the window, and she stood by him—Harvey asked him to take his hands out of his pockets, and then she said "That is the man, I will swear to him"—I will not be certain whether she had seen his right hand then, but I think so.

Cross-examined. You took your hands out of your pockets and showed them to the inspector—I saw you one day talking to George Bailey, and said to you, "You see where your pal is, I shall have you next"—I was sent out of Court by the Chairman of the Surrey Sessions to caution you that if you interfered with the witnesses I was to take you in custody—I did not turn your witnesses out of Court; I have never seen any.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This florin and these six shillings are bad—four of the shillings are from the same mould—this shilling received by Prouse is bad.

Prisoner's Defence. Here is my hat; it is not big enough to pull over my eyes. The fact is, this man took me to the station for having hair-brooms on my shoulder, but they could not prove I stole them, and ever since that they have been trying to get me into a case.

GUILTY . He was further charged with two convictions of stealing in March and November, 1877, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment on the first charge ., and Six Months' Imprisonment on the second

437. GEORGE BROWN (28), MARY ANN BROWN (27), and JOHN COOPER (38) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; and MR. FRITH Defended Cooper.

WILLIAM JOKS . I keep the Prince Albert public-house, 418, Cold Harbour Lane—on 14th March, from 11 to 11.15, Brown and Cooper came in, and one of them called for some gin—I said that I did not sell spirits—Cooper

had a pint of stout and mild, and tendered a bad florin—I said "This won't do"—he asked what I meant—I made no reply, but returned it to him, and a customer told him it was bad—he said, "I have got another," and put it into his pocket and gave me a good one—they drank the beer and left the bar.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I did not hear at the police court that only one florin was found on him, and that a good one—I did not test it, nor did the customers feel it—it did not want any rattling or examining—I saw that it was bad simply by looking at it—I was not busy—the colour was rank bad.

ROSE ANSCOMB . I am barmaid at the Atlantic public-house, Brixton—on 14th March, at 11.45 p.m., the three prisoners and Sarah Cooper (See next case) came in—George Brown asked for something and gave me a florin—I put it in the till and gave him 1s. 8d. change—there was no other florin there, only sixpences—the landlord called my attention to the till and I found the florin was bad—it was the only one there—this is it—the landlord called a constable.

JOHN REYNOLDS , M.R.C.S. I live in Cold Harbour Lane, Brixton—I have attended John Jacob Clump—I saw him about mid-day yesterday, he is suffering from erysipelas, and not in a condition to travel.

The deposition of John Jacob Clump was here read: "I keep the Atlantic public-house. About a quarter to 12 last night a constable spoke to me, and I went to the till and found in it a bad two-shilling piece. There was no other florin in the till. I spoke to the constable, who took them in charge. I gave the constable the bad florin. At the time I went up to the till the barmaid had just received a good florin from one of the female prisoners. The barmaid had it in her hand, and it was not put into the till at all."

JULIA FULLER . I am barmaid at the Atlantic—I was at the bar when the four prisoners were there drinking—Mr. Clump was standing in the bar—Mary Ann Brown asked me for half a quartern of gin and cloves, and offered a florin in payment—I went to put it in the till but did not do so till after the other florin was taken out—I did not give change for the good one.

WILLIAM MULLENS (Policeman W 261). On March 14th, about 11.15, I saw the throe prisoners opposite the Atlantic public-house, and Sarah Cooper looking in at the door on the opposite side to them—she came across, joined them, and said "He is not there"—Mary Ann Brown said "You did not expect he would be, did you? You can take a tram to the Walworth Road from here; but come, let us have some beer"—they all four crossed towards the public-house, and I walked away up Cold Harbour Lane—when I had gone 100 yards Ives spoke to me—I went back and saw the two female prisoners outside the Atlantic—I looked in but could not see the male prisoners, but met them in Atlantic Road coming back—they joined the female prisoners, and stood in conversation about 10 minutes, and then they all went into the Atlantic—I spoke to O'Connor, who went to the private department, and called Mr. Clump out—I made a communication to him, and he went in again, and came out in a minute or two, and brought out the bad florin produced—I went into the house with O'Connor, and said to Brown "You have just uttered a bad florin in payment for a pot of beer, and you, John Cooper, attempted to utter a bad florin, about quarter of an hour since in a beershop, about 100 yards off; you will all bo charged with

being concerned together in uttering counterfeit coin"—Brown"said "What do you mean? what is it all about?"—I repeated the charge, and arrested Brown—O'Connor arrested John Cooper, and Clark detained the females—I afterwards returned, and took them—I found on George Brown a florin, a shilling, sixpence, and two pence good money, and on Cooper a florin, 3s., 13d. in bronze, two door keys, and a knife, all good—Mary Ann Brown said "Did you find two keys!"—I said "Yes, on Cooper"—she said "One of them belongs to our room; he is my brother-in-law"—I received from Louisa Tee 2s. found on Mary Ann Brown, two shillings, two sixpences, and 8d. in bronze on Sarah Cooper—after searching John Cooper, I counted 8s. 1d.—he said "There should be more than that"—I again took up his trousers, and a good florin fell from them.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I did not find a single bad coin on him.

Cross-examined by Mary Ann Brown. You mentioned the keys in the presence of a number of other persons in the station.

JOHN O'CONNOR (Policeman W 263). I took the two Coopers—on the way to the station John Cooper said "What is it for?"—I said "For attempting to utter counterfeit coin at the Prince Albert beerhouse."

EMMA ANDREWS . I am barmaid at the Effra Hall, Kennett Road, Brixton—on 14th March, at 10 p.m., George Brown and the two Coopers came in—I served Brown with a quartern of rum; he put down a florin, and I put it into the till, where there were only shillings and sixpences—I gave him 1s. 9 1/2 d. change—I afterwards took other florins; I cannot say how many—they were put into the same till.

Cross-examined. The landlord cleared the till later on in the evening—it is his practice to put the money taken from all four tills together in one box—he opened the box next morning and took a bad florin out.

Cross-examined by George Brown. I did-not notice whether the florin you gave me was bad.

EDWARD BURGESS . I am manager of the Effra Arms Tavern, on. 14th March I cleared the four tills about 4.30—I clear them every half hour—I put all the money taken during the day in a box, and next morning found in it from 25 to 30 florins, among which was this bad one (produced).

WILLIAM FOGWELL (Policeman W 280). On 14th March, about 11 o'clock, I was opposite Effra Hall, and saw the three prisoners and another coming along Effra Road—they were near the Prince of Wales, the Prince Alfred, and the Atlantic—the Prince Alfred is about 200 yards from the Atlantic; they talked together about five minutes at the corner of Cold Harbour Lane, and then went towards the Prince Albert, and I saw no more of them.

LOUISA TEE . I am female searcher of Brixton Station—I searched Sarah Cooper, and found two pence, and on Mary Ann Brown two shillings, two sixpences, and eight pence, all good—I gave it to Mullins.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I assist my father in Mint cases—these coins are both bad and both from the same mould—I have had eight or nine years' experience.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. An inexperienced person might be deceived by many bad coins, some of them are bo well made—there is sometimes a great difference in colour—a good coin cracked would sound cracked.

Cooper's Statement before Vie Magistrate. "The two-shilling piece I tendered to that gentleman was the one this man found on me. I put it by itself in the left trousers pocket."

George Brown's Defence. I did not utter the florin with a guilty knowledge—I had a two-shilling piece, and one was found to be bad and one good. Any man can take a bad coin without knowing it.

GUILTY . They were further charged with previous convictions of like offences, George Brown in December, 1875; Mary Ann Brown in November, 1875; and Cooper in August, 1874, to which they all

PLEADED GUILTY.

GEORGE BROWN**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

MARY ANN BROWN**— Two Years' Imprisonment.

JOHN COOPER**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

438. SARAH COOPER (32) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted; and MR. FRITH Defended.

The evidence of WILLIAM IVES , ROSE ANSCOMB , JOHN REYNOLDS , JULIA FULLER , WILLIAM MULLENS , JOHN O'CONNOR , EMMA ANDREWS , EDWARD BURGESS , WILLIAM FOGWELL , and LOUISA TEE , given in the former case, was read over to them from the shorthand writers' notes, to which they assented.

WILLIAM MULLENS . I have ascertained that the two Coopers have been living together as man and wife. The prisoner's sister told me so.

NOT GUILTY .

439. WILLIAM MAHONEY (20) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession with intent to utter it.

MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted.

KATE KEAL . I am barmaid at the Grapes, High Street, Borough—on 10th March, between 10 p.m. and 11 p.m., the prisoner, who I had seen on the 8th, came in for a screw of tobacco and a pipe, which came to 1d.—he gave me a bad shilling, which I took to Mr. Howard at the other end of the bar—when I went back the prisoner had gone, leaving the tobacco on the counter—I did not see him again till he was in custody, on 24th March, when I saw him with six others, and said "That is the man"—he said "Take care what you axe saying about me"—I am sure he is the man.

HENRY HOWARD . I am landlord of the Grapes—on 10th March Keal brought me this shilling; I found it was bad, marked it, and handed it to Symondson on 24th March.

JOHN TOBIN . I am a groom, and living at 38, Mint Street—on 24th March I was out of place and saw the prisoner at the corner of Mint Street, about 7.15 p.m.—I knew him before to speak to, but did not know his name; I had seen him coming out of a lodging-house—he came up and said, "Would you mind passing some bad shillings for me?"—I said, "Yes!" he showed me a packet containing some in brown paper—I told him I would do it in a few minutes and left him, and went to the Duke of York public-house, where I met a detective in plain clothes, who I had known for some days previously—I made a statement to him, returned to the prisoner and said, "I will pass them for you now"—I walked about two paces in front of him, and at the top of Queen Street he said, "Come on down this way"—I said, "No, I shall go this way"—we walked to the Duke of York; he gave me a bad shilling and said, "Here is one shilling for you, take this and I shall give you another"—I went in and he remained outside—I spoke to the person serving there, but did not offer the shilling—I kept it in my hand and rejoined the prisoner, who was waiting about 50 yards off, and said,

"This is not good enough for that shop," and I returned it to him; we walked about 20 yards together, and the detective came up and said, "I shall apprehend you for being a deserter from the 1st Surrey"—the prisoner said, "I am no deserter"—he said, "I have to take you," and took hold of him by the right arm—he had something in his left hand which appeared to be the brown paper packet which I had seen before—he clenched his hand, and I saw him throw it over his left shoulder—I saw where it fell and picked it up and gave it to the detective outside the station—I afterwards saw it opened, it contained some shillings.

MARTIN SYMONDSON (Detective Officer). On 24th March, about 7.30, Tobin spoke to me—he went away and I waited and saw him coming along with the prisoner—I said to the prisoner, "I charge you with being a deserter from the Militia"—he said, "You are mistaken, I am not"—I said, "I shall have to take you to the station"—on the way to the station I saw him throw a brown parcel over his left shoulder, but through a crowd collecting I did not take any notice of it—I left him at the station, got a lantern, came out and saw Tobin, who gave me this brown paper packet (produced)—I took it to the station, opened it in the prisoner's presence, and it contained seven bad shillings—I said, "I shall charge you with possession of these"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—they were in white paper, three in one part, and four in another—on the same night Keal came to the station and saw the prisoner with five or six others—Mr. Howard gave me this shilling (produced).

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I assist my father, the Inspector of Coin to the Mint—these seven shillings are bad, and from two different moulds—this separate shilling is bad and from a different mould.

GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony at Newington in November, 1871, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years* Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

440. JOSHUA FOX (43) , Unlawfully obtaining money by false pretences from Ambrose Brentini and Natall D'Allessandri.

MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. D. METCALFE Defended.

AMBROSE BRENTINL . I am a confectioner of 37, St. Martin's Lane—the prisoner came to me about the end of September, or beginning of October, and said "Do you want your place insured?" I said "Yes;" he said "I am an agent to the Hand in Hand Insurance Company," and he showed me forms similar to these—he inspected the place, and said there would be rather a heavy charge for the insurance, because of the carriage builder's at the back, and that it was rather difficult to insure a place like mine, because, in case of fire in the carriage builder's, my place would be dangerous—he said "I will take it, and I shall charge you 15s., for the first instalment, and then I shall make a report to the Hand in Hand, and get the surveyor of the company to come and survey the place, and if he does not like to insure it I shall return your money, and I will come to see you next week"—I then paid him 15a and he gave me a deposit receipt—I believed his statement—ho came the next week and said "Well, has the surveyor been to survey the place 1"—I said "No, I have seen no one"—he said "Well, it's all right, write to the surveyor, I'll make it right Now you will have to pay me the balance, 1l. 6s."—I paid him

that, and he gave me this document, signed "J. Fox, pro Manager," in the comer, and said "They will send you the policy in three or four weeks, don't be afraid. Do you know any friends who would wish to be insured?" I said "Yes, I have a friend in Euston Road, Mr. Alessandri," and gave him his address—I have not had my policy—I did not go to the office.

Cross-examined. I am quite sure he said that he was an agent to the Hand in Hand—I cannot swear he did not say "I represent the Hand in Hand"—I had been insured before in an office in King William Street for the same premiums, but my policy had lapsed—I had never proposed in the Hand in Hand before, and did not know of its existence—I have tried to insure in the Phoenix, but they would not have me because of the carriage builder's, and I told the prisoner so—he asked me the questions at the back of the form—I told him I had been in my premises many years—he did not read all the* questions—he asked me if I had been insured before—I told him I had, and showed him the policy.

NATALL D'ALESSANDRI . I am a confectioner, of 169, Euston Road, and am a friend of Mr. Brentini—the prisoner called on me in September last, and said, "I am recommended by your friend Mr. Brentini to call on you about insuring your property in the Hand in Hand Insurance Company, I am an agent of the Company n—I said that I did not mind insuring—he said, "The premium won't come to much because it is only a ground floor, the shop and parlour"—he looked over it, and asked how much I should like to have the property insured for—I said about 150l., and he made out this form (produced), signed "J. Fox, pro Manager"—I paid him 5s. 8d., which was to carry me on to December of this year—I believed his statement—he said he would send the policy in a fortnight or three weeks at the longest—on the 7th December I wrote this letter to the office—I have never received any policy.

Cross-examined. I have not been insured before, or proposed in any other society.

HUMPHREY HINTON RAY . I am a clerk at the Hand in Hand office, New Bridge Street, Blackfriars—we have several agents—persons desiring to become agents have to fill up certain forms, giving references, &c., which would be handed to the directors to consider—it is part of my duty to see that these forms go through the ordinary process, and if the directors approve they are sent back to me, and I, upon their direction, appoint' or decline to appoint the applicants as agents—I do not know Fox—he has never applied to become an agent, and I have never received directions to appoint him an agent or to refuse to appoint him—I know the names and addresses of our authorised agents now and in September and October last—he was not then an agent and has never been such since my acquaintance with the office—I have received no complaint about a proposed insurance of Mr. Brentini, and knew nothing of it until these proceedings—I have never received the 15s. from Brentini or the prisoner, or 1l. 6s. or 5s. 8d. in respect of Alessandri's premises—I knew nothing of either of those transactions or of the prisoner until I received this letter from Alessandri on 7th September.

Cross-examined. I am chief clerk of the fire department, and have to do with the appointment and superintendence of agents—we do not employ anybody to deliver proposal forms—the agents may—I never heard of it—if we heard of agents appointing sub-agents we should make inquiries—they

have no instructions to the contrary—we deliver to agents as many proposal forms as they wish—if a gentleman came to the office to propose for an insurance we should give him two forms, in case one should: be lost or he wished to keep a copy—we should not receive proposals brought by subagents—we should examine into it—we should not give commission to persons not agents—a number of solicitors are agents—I know all of them—we have over 200 agents in London and the country—I know them by correspondence, not personally.

Re-examined. I know their names and addresses—the prisoner had no authority to sign "J. Fox, pro Manager of the Hand-in-Hand Insurance Company"—we have no manager—the office is 183 years old—we know our recognised agents, and it is their business to send proposals—we do not allow commission to casual customers—any private person coming in and desiring to insure we hand him two forms, and in due course, if we approve of the risk, we accept it.

CHARLES STEVENS (Detective Sergeant P). I produce these papers. (Relating to various insurance societies.)

Cross-examined. I found this upon him. (A prospectus of the Gresham Insurance Office, with the prisoner's name printed on it as agent.) I found a number of papers relating to the Gresham—the small books bear his name.

GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.

441. HENRY JAMES (18) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward Wright, and stealing a ham and other articles; feloniously breaking and entering the shop of Charles Gruby, and stealing therefrom the sum of 1s. 6d., and other moneys; and feloniously breaking and entering the shop of Leonard Humphrey, and stealing therefrom two centrebits.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

442. WILLIAM WILSON (24) , Unlawfully being found by night having instruments of housebreaking in his possession.

MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted; MR. RIBTON Defended.

GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant M). I was with Inspector Fox and Sergeant Walsh in the Old Kent Road on February 18th, about 6.30 p.m., and I saw the prisoner hail a cab On the rank—he got into it and drove off—in consequence of what Inspector Walsh said to me I followed the cab about half a mile to a railway arch in Old Kent Road, where it pulled up in front of a public-house—I kept watch, and when the prisoner left the cab I followed him—Fox and Walsh then came up, and we walked down the road until we lost sight of the prisoner—I went about a mile farther on, and saw him outside the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway, at New Cross—I continued to follow him—he then went back up the Old Kent Road as far as the first railway arch and turned down a turning, where I lost sight of him—I went back to Walsh—I saw him next about 9.30, standing at the corner of Shanton Street—Inspector Fox was behind me coming up—the prisoner then turned up Shanton Street—Walsh went after him and I followed Walsh—when I got up Walsh and Fox had him in custody, and I assisted in taking him to the police-station.

Cross-examined. I did not see what passed between the prisoner and the

cabman—I followed the cab, but did not take the number or say anything to the cabman—I did not see him get out—the cab was there about five minutes, and I afterwards saw him come out from the direction of the public-house and go up the Kent Road, but do not know if he had been in—I followed him.

JAMES WALSH (Police Sergeant M). I was with Fox and Harvey on Feb. 18th, and saw the prisoner in a cab about 6.30 p.m.—I knew him by sight, and continued following him till 9.30, when I saw him at the corner of Shenton Street, where he stood and looked at me, and then ran up the street—I was the first to follow him up, and saw him run to a van about 30 yards up the street and throw something into it—he then turned back, and I caught him about 6 or 7 yards from the van—Inspector Fox came up at the moment—I fetched a lamp and searched as I thought I heard something fall—after searching the road I went to the van and found this jemmy, then wrapped up in a piece of paper—I was at the station when he was searched, and saw the paper compared with this other piece.

Cross-examined. I was at the police-court—the other two officers heard me give my evidence—Mr. Bonman defended the prisoner, and asked that the witnesses should leave the Court, and the Magistrate said, "No, I order the witnesses to stay in Court"—I do not think I said before the Magistrate that I saw the prisoner look towards me and run up the street—I cannot remember—there is a corn chandler's shop at the corner of Shenton Street, which is a blind street, and the van was about 30 yards from the corner—I did not inquire who the van belonged to—I found this in the van—it is a hammer and a jemmy—I recovered about 1,500l. worth of property at Colchester by a similar thing—it could be used for ordinary purposes—there were no horses to the van—I was opposite him about 15 yards away at the corner opposite the shop when he went to the van—I crossed the street and ran after him—he put something in the van—I might be 10 yards or more from him then—he was coming back again when I caught him about 6 or 7 yards from the van—it was an ordinary night—I could see by the gas lamp at the corner near the shop—the gas is 30 yards away and would not enable me to see to the van—I put him against the wall and held him—Sergeant Harvey came up, and I handed the prisoner over to him—we got a lamp from the cornchandler's shop, and Inspector Fox and I went to the van, and I found this jemmy rolled up in a bit of paper about three or four feet in the van from behind—the tail of the van was down—I could not swear which part of the paper was on the jemmy—before searching the van I searched near the shop and along the gutter—the prisoner wanted us to take him away to the station at once—while searching the road I said, "I thought I heard some keys thrown away"—I went to look for them first—I did not search the van first; it did not strike me.

Re-examined. I have had much experience in these cages, and have seen many burglarious instruments, and have known premises broken into by similar instruments to this—I stopped him, and Fox came up and we searched—the whole thing took two or three minutes.

MATTHEW FOX (Police Inspector M). On the night of 18th February I was with Harvey and Fox* at the south end of Old Kent Road—in consequence of information I gave directions to Harvey—I have known the prisoner some time—about 9.30 p.m. I saw the prisoner at the corner, of Shenton Street—he stood for a second and then darted quickly round

up the street—I ran to the corner of the street and met him coming back, walking quickly down Shenton Street to the Old Kent Road—I got there at the same moment as Walsh—Walsh caught him by the shoulder at the same moment as I did—I said "Harry, what do you do here at this time?"—he said "What is that to do with you?"—I began to feel his clothing—he said "If you want to search me take me to the station"—he said repeatedly "Take me to the station"—Walsh got a lantern and searched—Harvey was there—I saw Walsh take this instrument out from the van rolled up in paper, he handed it to me and we went to the station and the prisoner was searched there—he took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and spread it on the floor, and amongst the things taken from his pocket was this part of a Western Morning News—I compared it with the piece wrapped round the jemmy, and it fits word for word and letter for letter—I asked his name—he said "William Wilson, I am a sailor, but I refuse to give you any address"—there was also found upon him four keys, a watch, and a ring—this instrument can be bought in the shops, but it is used by burglars—in the last case I was engaged in a similar instrument was used.

Cross-examined. The instrument was wrapped in the centre, but hardly covered—I caught him about 10 yards from the shop—Walsh got a lantern and searched in the road—I first heard him say at the police station that he saw something put into the van—Walsh looked in the van and said, "Here it is"—the van belonged to a timber yard adjoining—I did not think it necessary to see the owner of the van—if I found it belonged to him I should not have considered it an instrument of burglary, but if I found a man loitering about I should—I was present when the paper was taken out of the prisoner's pocket—he took it out himself—he spread this handkerchief on the floor and threw everything into it—these are the latchkeys—they are not burglarious instruments—they might be used as such.

GUILTY .**†— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 28TH, 1879.