Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 6.0, 23 July 2014), October 1882 (t18821016).

Old Bailey Proceedings, 16th October 1882.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT

Sessions Paper.

ELLIS, MAYOR.

TWELFTH SESSION, HELD OCTOBER 16TH, 1882.

MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,

TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY

JAMES DROVER BARNETT

AND

ALEXANDER BUCKLER,

Short-hand Writers to the Court,

ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.

THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE

REVISED AND EDITED BY

EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,

OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.

LONDON:

STEVENS AND SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE,

Law Booksellers and Publishers.

THE

WHOLE PROCEEDINGS

On the Queen's Commission of

OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY

FOR

The City of London,

AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE

COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION

OF THE

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,

Held on Monday, October 16th, 1882, and following days,

Including cases committed to this Court under order in Council pursuant to the Winter Assizes Act of 1879.

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, BART., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir CHARLES J. WATKIN WILLIAMS , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Court of Justice; WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M. P., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., and Sir THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Knt., F. R. G. S., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., M. P., Recorder of the said City; SIMEON CHARLES HADLEY , Esq., ROBERT NICHOLAS FOWLER , Esq., M. P., Sir REGINALD HANSON , Knt., and HERBERT JAMESON WATERLOW Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q. C., D. C. L., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL. D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court: Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.

POLYDORE DE KEYSER , Esq., Alderman,

JOSEPH SAVORY , Esq.,

Sheriffs

MARSHALL PONTIFEX , Esq.,

BEAUMONT SHEPHEARD , Esq.,

under-sheriffs.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

ELLLS, MAYOR. TWELFTH SESSION.

A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.

LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.

OLD COURT.—Monday, October 16th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder

905. NATHAN MAURICE (52) , Embezzling 1l. 14s., 1l. 16s. 6d., and 5l. 10s., received by him on account of John Hilling Barnard and others, his masters.

SIR H. S. GIFFARD, Q. C., and MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. EDWARD CLARKE, Q. C., and MR. BESLEY Defended

ROBERT JAMES KEYS . I am a clerk to Messrs. Barnard, Bishop, and Barnard, who have warehouses and showrooms in Queen Victoria Street, City—on 12th April the prisoner was manager—this is an order form of that date—I made it out and he took off the discount (For 50 yards of galvanised wire 2l. 10s., discount 16s.)—Mr. Ryall, the customer, selected he goods—I served him; the prisoner was present—this is the invoice that was given to Mr. Ryall—the prisoner made it out—the receipt of April 13th, is the prisoner's—the endorsement on this cheque is the prisoner's, and the small letters "N. M." are his initials as he usually signs (Drawn by R. Ryall on Standard. Bank, 13th April, 1882, for 1l. 14s., payable to Barnard, Bishop, and Barnard)—on 17th April I made a sale of a three-fold stained glass screen—this is an invoice of our firm—it is made out by a clerk and receipted—this is the prisoner's endorsement on this cheque and his initials (Drawn by H. Forbes on 15th April, 1882, on Martin and Co., in favour of Barnard and Co. for 5l. 10s.)—this is an order form of the firm of 13th June from Henry Ablitt for two panels and two tiles, 1l. 16s. 6d.—I served the customer, packed the goods up, and took the money from the customer—this is the invoice receipted—I gave this memorandum order for the goods to the prisoner—I also gave him the money—the screen was supplied by Messrs. Beaumont and Sons on approbation, and the custom was to charge it to the firm.

Cross-examined. I have been employed by the firm about four years—I did not keep the books—the principal books were kept at Norwich—we had an order book, a ledger, and a memorandum book when customers came in—I

call the memorandum book an official order book—this book is like it (produced)—the books are put in rotation on a shelf; anybody can use them—three of us were there—we all took orders—I put the orders under a wedge on the prisoner's desk in a special place, and he wrote them out on his arrival—his desk was in the basement; it was not partitioned off; it was a raised board and a table on it—few people came there—if the order had to be sent to Norwich the prisoner would enter it in his book—a blank sheet was used and he would keep a copy—I used to come to the warehouse about 8. 40 a. m.—Maurice came about 9. 10 a. m.—my time for leaving was about 7 p.m., but it varied, and was very often 7.30 p. m.—I generally left Maurice there—=he was out the greater part of the day—he would come in about 5 p. m., and would find an accumulation of orders, which he would have to post up and send on to Norwich—the ledger we kept was merely a reference ledger; it does not contain money entries—I have seen Maurice take a small cash-book out of a locked drawer in his desk—there are five partners—they came from time to time; Mr. Alfred Barnard and Mr. John Hilling came oftener than the others—they had not been there for about six weeks before Maurice was given into custody.

By the COURT. The course, of business was, I and others took orders from the customers as they came in, which were entered on a piece of paper and put on the prosecutor's desk under a weight—if it was a cash transaction the money was handed to Maurice or put in his drawer, and his attention drawn to it—his duty was to enter the orders in the official order-book—-all orders were sent to Norwich—his book was a record of all business done.

ALFRED HERNAGE . I am and I was a clerk to the prosecutors on 17th April—this receipted invoice for 5l. 10s. is my writing from Maurice's instructions-the boy was to hand it in if he received the money on the delivery of the goods.

Cross-examined. I had been at this business about five years—I was a salesman at times, but principally a clerk—about this time I had three domestic calamities—my father died in March—I was never long away at a time—I came to business almost every day and wrote what letters there were to write in the morning, and then I was permitted to leave—my aunt died about three weeks after my father's death; a few weeks after that my wife met with an accident—I had a fortnight's holiday in May—Maurice made remarks in his letters to Norwich about the pressure of business caused by my absence; I noticed it in Maurice's Norwich letter, which was copied in a book like that produced—there were 24 inclosures, the numbers of the orders being given at the end of the letter—Maurice wrote to Norwich enclosing the day's orders every evening, and the letter was copied in this book, to which we frequently had to refer—the 5l. 10s. was for a glass screen—Messrs. Barnard are not the manufacturers of them, and they are not sent from Norwich—the sale of the screen did not enter into my depart ment—I did not sell it.

FRANK ACLAND . In April last I was in the prosecutor's employ as porter—on 17th April I took some screens to Mr. Forbes in Bolton Gardens, South Kensington—I took this invoice with me ready receipted—I did not receive the money—I took the invoice back to the warehouse, and laid it on Mr. Maurice's table.

Cross-examined. I only took one screen—I generally leave the premises

in Queen Victoria Street about 7.30, at the same time as Mr. Maurice—he locked up the place—he never stayed after I left.

WILLIAM ACRERS . I am a clerk in the Cheque Bank—the prisoner had an account there in April this year—these two cheques of 1l. 16s. 6d. and 1l. 4s. were passed through our bank—I am not quite sure to whose credit the 1l. 4s. cheque was passed, but I have not very much doubt that it was passed to the prisoner's—I know his handwriting—I should say the endorsement is his writing—I have no doubt about it—it bears the stamp of our bank—the other cheque was passed to his account, and the en dorsement is his.

RICHARD RYALL . About 12th April last I made a purchase at the warehouse of Messrs. Barnard, Bishop, and Barnard, in Queen Victoria Street—I received this invoice the day after—I sent this cheque in payment, and received this receipt.

JOHN HILLING BARNARD . I am a member of the firm of Barnard, Bishop, and Barnard, iron founders and manufacturers, at Norwich—we also have a retail business there, and showrooms in Queen Victoria Street, in London, where we supply goods from the country on orders received there—the prisoner entered our service originally by this letter of September 19th, 1877 (This proposed a salary of 300l. a year, and a commission of about 1 1/2 per cent)—he continued in our service from that time until the period of these proceedings, but his remuneration was increased—there was then some over-drawing on his part, and we agreed, to let him repay the amount by instalments—we increased his salary, and he was to pay off 5l. a month (A Utter from the witness to the prisoner, dated December 1st, 1877, was read; it expressed a willingness to accede to the terms proposed by the prisoner——namely, a payment of 20l. on the 1st of the month, and 25l. on the 15th; that this was not to be looked upon as a fixed salary's but that they wished him to have a fixed salary, and a commission on his sales, which were working satisfactorily)—these letters of 10th and 14th March are in the prisoner's writing, also this account referred to in the letter of the 14th (These letters were appeals to the prosecutors consideration in consequence of domestic expenses, and a debt for furniture, and expressed a hope that he might not lose their confidence, which he would do his best to regain)—the account he enclosed shows his indebtedness to us to be 407l.—I think the increase of his salary to 500l. was settled at that time with our chief clerk—the course of business after that was that he was to send down to Norwich a weekly. account, and he did so very regularly—there were two cash-books, one of which was kept at Norwich, and the other in London, and they were exchanged weekly—that was arranged in February, 1882—those books showed the amounts received and paid, including the petty cash—besides those two books there was an official order-book, and a weekly sheet showing the receipts and payments—I have here the sheet of 17th April, 1882, in which the entry of the 17th ought to be, also that of 13th June, 1882—there is no entry in any of the accounts of 1l. 14s. received from Mr. Ryall on 13th April, 1882, or of 5l. 10s. on 17th April from Mr. Forbes, of Bolton Gardens, or of 1l. 16s. from Mr. Ablitt, of the Borough—I have gone through all the accounts, and am able to say that no such entry appears—I have not received those sums; they have never been accounted for—the cheques received by the prisoner should have been remitted to Norwich as speedily as possible—the cash he received he used to fend to the Cheque Bank and obtain cheques for it,

which should have been sent to us by post—part of the cash he received he would use for sundry expenses; the other portion he would obtain cheques for from the Cheque Bank, and remit to us by cheques of his own on that bank—he was allowed to retain a floating balance of 10l.—the name of the customer paying the cash would not necessarily appear—I see the names are mentioned here, and the prisoner debits himself with the amounts on the other side.

Cross-examined. No calculation has been made as to what commission was due to him at the time he sent in his account, which showed his in debtedness to the firm, but it is shown on the document itself—it was 103l. on one account, and 13l. 7s. 7d. on the other—from April, 1877, to October, 1877, when the arrangement ceased, no new arrangement took place with regard to his payments; the commission altogether stopped in October, 1877, and he was paid 540l. a year—I state in the letter of 1st December, 1877, that we were looking forward to arranging the commission with him, and we were working out the results—we did work them out—it was never gone into further than October—on 1st De cember, 1877, I wrote, "Trusting it will develop"—I meant by that that he would get more commission, but the arrangement come to was that he was to have 600l. a year without any commission—that was arranged with our head clerk orally—at that time I was thoroughly satisfied with the work he had done—in January, 1879, I went through the accounts of the firm—I believe the returns during the previous 15 months averaged within 15l. of 13,000l. a year—at that tune I may probably have expressed my sense of the value of his services, and that I would leave the matter of remuneration open for the present—I was not present at the arrangement made with the head clerk—I think his payment was increased to 50l. a month in March, 1879; at any rate there was a rise in his salary at that time; before that it had been 45l.—5l. a month was deducted because he had overdrawn his account—he has not repaid it yet—the increase was made to enable him to wipe off the overdraft—he had borrowed money since then—I believe only one 50l/. was sent to him—I have not got his salary account here; it would be somewhere in the books—between March and December, 1879, 45l. was sent to him; I am sure of that—this is a copy of his salary account copied from our cash-book in Norwich; it is in the handwriting of our clerks—in December, January, and February, he had three cheques of 50l. sent him, and after February we commenced to deduct 5l. a month, but he had other loans, two of 50l. and one of 30l.; that is shown on this paper—the account against him stands slightly less than it did originally, because he paid off some—I have never gone into his com mission since the first six months—he continued to enjoy my fullest confidence up to June this year—one of our assistants made a communication to us in June—the business continued to be fairly successful—I never found a penny wrong in the accounts he sent to Norwich; we found nothing wrong in the arithmetic—the expenses he would have to pay would be salaries of the young men, postage stamps, and so on, petty cash disbursements—the balance of cash that he had he would pay in to the Cheque Bank, and send his own cheque to us—he did that from time to time—I do not think you can write a cheque over 10l. on the Cheque Bank—there was 20l. on 14th June; that was in two cheques I cannot tell how many 10l. cheques he has sent to us at one time-he

may have paid in 30l. to his account in the course of a week, and then sent it to us by his cheques—if he received a cheque and had no cash, he was not supposed to cash the cheque and apply the portion he wanted to the business—all cheques were supposed to be sent direct to Norwich—he had a floating balance of 10l. always in hand—he had to keep up that floating balance, and he did, and as it went out he could replenish it, I should say it never happened that there were no cash payments in the course of the week—since the prisoner has been arrested my brother and I have carried on the business alternately—we have not engaged another manager—I have cashed cheques that I have received in the way of business if I wanted the money—I am a partner; I do as I please—I account at Norwich for all business done—I should make my drawings as I require them—I do not cash the cheques for the business, bat for my own private requirements—I have sent out to. cash cheques paid to the firm, and I have signed them with the name of the firm, as I have a right to do—I had perfect confidence in the prisoner up to June—the communication that was made to me by one of our servants was about a week or 10 days previous to the arrest—I do not think it was as long as three weeks before—I then first knew of these two items of 1l. 14s. and 1l. 16s.—the commission included those two sums among others—I think the total amount I was then informed of was about 20l. or 30l.—I first saw the two memoranda relating to these two sums after I had consulted my solicitor—my solicitor had them before I saw them; that was before the prisoner was arrested—I believe I had seen them before, as far as I remember—some of the memoranda were found in a drawer in the prisoner's desk—I was present when they were found—when Detective Hancock came we opened—the drawer and took them out; that was after the prisoner was in custody—several other pieces of paper were found in his desk, and the cash-books and several items that he had received the previous day—that paper is in the hands of my solicitor—the cash-books are here—Hancock opened the drawer—he did not pick the lock; he had the keys from the prisoner—everything that was found in the drawer is here—the prisoner has been five years in our employ ment, and has been sending to us week by week about 8,000l. a year—a servant under him gave us information—I did not on that go to the prisoner, because I took the other course, I went to our solicitor—we thought it better to employ a solicitor and take his advice before we took any other course—it was on that advice that I got a warrant for his arrest without asking him about the matter, or I should not have done it.

Re-examined. The balance of the prisoner's indebtedness to us now is about 398l.—with the exception of the few deductions made after the new arrangement, he received his salary regularly—about two or three days' salary was due to him when he was arrested—the arrangement as to commission was in abeyance for a time, and ultimately the arrange ment was arrived at that he was to receive 600l. a year, he having previously had 540l. for a short time—the drawer in which the memoranda orders were was locked—we found these four other orders—I found no trace of those in the official order book.

EDWARD HANCOCK (City Detective). On 28th June I received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension—I saw him at the place of businese in Queen Victoria Street—I read the warrant to him—he raid

"I have not stolen anything. Can I see Mr. Barnard?"—I said "I will let Mr. Barnard know that you wish to see him"—I spoke to Mr. Barnard, but he did not see him—the prisoner also said "I can give a satisfactory explanation if I can see him"—I was at the office on that same day when some papers were found in the prisoner's drawer; it was not locked when I saw it—Mr. Barnard searched the drawer and snowed me, I believe, six memoranda orders—he subsequently handed them to me and I initialled them.

Cross-examined. He said "If I can see Mr. Barnard I can explain all; I have nothing to say against them; they have treated me with the greatest of kindness"—he was arrested at 4 o'clock in the aftornoon; Mr. Barnard refused to see him—he was kept at the police-station, and next morning taken before the Alderman—he was remanded for a week without bail on his own recognisance—on the second occasion a solicitor appeared for him—the case was gone into, and he was let out on his own recognisance; that was on 14th July—he attended again on 20th July, and again on the 26th—he surrendered last Session to take his trial, and he has surrendered to-day.

MR. BARNARD (Re-examined by MR. CLARKE). We have been charged with some screens by Messrs. Beaumont—I believe we have some in our possession at the present time—I can't say whether we have had any account sent in by Messrs. Beaumont lately; I can't say if Mr. Beaumont is here; I believe I have seen him once in Court at one of the previous sittings—I know that the screen referred to has been paid for by us; I have not the date—I believe Mr. Beaumont is in Court—I can't say whether between 9th November and 19th April Mr. Beaumont sent four screens—I can't say how many we have been charged for—I cannot admit that the screen mentioned in this indictment was delivered on 11th February and paid for on 28th April, and never charged to or paid for by us; I cannot tell anything about it one way or the other. The prisoner received a good character.

NOT GUILTY . (See Old Court Saturday,)

906. HENRY MARVIN ABBOTT (25) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of 1,200 almanacs, and to obtaining money by false pretences.— Four Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Monday, October 16th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant

907. GEORGE GREEST (24) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, two post letters and twenty-four postage stamps, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

908. JAMES CHARLES GOODEN (17) to stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, a post packet, containing a gilt locket, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General. — Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

909. GEORGE BLOMFIELD STEEMAN (30) to stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, a letter containing 20l. in gold, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour, [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

910. LOUISA WEBSTER (24) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. LLOYD and HEWICK Prosecuted. ADA SLAUGHTER. I live at a tobacconist and sweetstuff shop at Walham Green—about 18th August I served the prisoner with two ounces of sweets, which came to 1 1/2 d.—she gave me a florin, I bent it easily in the tester, and told her it was bad—she said she did not know it—I gave it back to her and she gave me the sweets.

GEORGE KING . I am a fishmonger, of 42, Melmoth Place, Walham Green—on 25th August I saw my son serving the prisoner—he said "Father, this is a light two-shilling piece"—I examined it and found it was bad; it was grittv, it bent easily, and it was very light—I said "You ought to be very careful"—she said "I will tell my husband when I get home"—I gave it back to her and she paid with good money—I often saw her in the neighbourhood after that, and on 15th September, seeing her go to Mrs. Bevan's shop, I went in and spoke to Mrs. Bevan, who showed me a bad florin, and went after the prisoner—I spoke to a policeman.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said you would tell your husband, not your mother—the boy did not take the coin into the parlour.

ANN MUNSEN . My husband is a tobacconist, of 9, Garden Place, Walham Green—on 15th September, about 9.30 a. m., I served the prisoner with a halfpennyworth of sweets; she gave me a shilling, I placed it in a glass by itself and gave her the change—my husband took it out of the glass in the evening, tried it with his teeth, and made a mark on it—it was bad—there was no other shilling there—my husband threw it behind the fire—I saw it melt and drop through—it did not take many minutes—I saw the prisoner the following week at the police-court—I am sure she is the woman.

MARY BEVAN . My husband is a tobacconist, of Walham Green—on 15th September, about 10 o'clock, I served the prisoner with half an ounce of bird's-eye; she gave me a florin, I put it in a drawer where there was no other, and gave her a shilling, a sixpence, and fourpence, and she left—King came in directly afterwards, and told me some thing—I showed him the florin—he said that it was bad—it looked bad and felt gritty and sounded dull—I ran after the prisoner and said "This is bad; I want my money back," she gave it to me and I gave her the florin.

HENRY ENSELL . I am a draper of 549, Fulham Road—one day in September, about 10.30 a. m., I served the prisoner with a pair of socks, price 7 1/2 d.; she gave me a florin, I put it in my pocket—I had another florin there, which I bad seen over night, and know that it was a good one—I gave her the change, and as she left a policeman stopped her at the door—I showed him the coin, and then I saw that it was bad—she said she had put down a sixpence—she looked first at a pair of socks the price of which was fourpence—after the prisoner left I gave the other florin in change for a half-sovereign.

CHARLES BRADSHAW (Policeman T 649). On 13th September, about 10 o'clock, Mr. King spoke to me, and I went after Mrs. Bevan and met her coming back—I then saw the prisoner going into Mr. Ensell's shop, and when she came out I stopped her and asked her to come inside—I said to Mr. Ensell, "What coin has she given you?"—he said, "A two billing piece"—I said, "Let me look at it"—he took it out of his

waistcoat pocket and gave it to me—I took her to the station, and on the way I looked behind and saw Bacon pick up something a yard and a half behind us—I said, "Give it to me," and he gave me this bad florin (produced)—the prisoner said, "I was putting it into my pocket, and it dropped on the ground. "

WILLIAM BACON . I am a coach-maker—on 5th September, about 10. 15a.m., I saw the prisoner going along with the policeman; she put her right hand into her ulster pocket, and dropped a florin in the gutter; I picked it up and gave it to the policeman.

Prisoner. The policeman held me sp tightly by my arm that I dropped the coin.

Witness. No, he held you by the other arm.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am assistant examiner of coins to the Mint—these coins are both bad.

The prisoner, in her statement before the Magistrate and in her defence, said that she was a dressmaker, and received 17s. 6d. in silver from a lady, which she kept in a box, and added other money to it and took money from it, but did not know that any of it was bad, and that the policeman jerked her hand, which caused her to let the coin fall.

GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Six Months' Hard Labour.

911. HENRY KILPIN (29) , Unlawfully uttering a medal resembling a half-sovereign with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. LLOYD and HEWTCK Prosecuted; MR. MEAD Defended.

EDWARD BOORMAN . I am landlord of the Brondesbury Arms, Can terbury Road, Kilburn—on Sunday, 1st October, about 9. 45 p. m., the prisoner came in with another young man, and called for a pint of sixpenny ale—my barman served him and brought me this coin—I said in the prisoner's hearing, "This is not a good one"—he said that it was—I got another half-sovereign, and said it was as base a coin as I ever saw, and gave it back to him and showed him the difference—he handed it to his friend, who paid me 3d. for the ale—he said, "I got it at some place, and I will take it back to where I got it from. "

Cross-examined. He said that to his friend, but he did not name any place—change is placed in 10s. piles at the back of the bar; the barman can give change without coming to me; if it had been good the barman would not have come to me—it is not at all like a half-sovereign.

FRANK EDWARDS . I am barman at the Brondesbury Arms—the prisoner called for a pint of six-ale, and when I came back the coin was on the counter—I discovered immediately it was not good, and showed it to Mr. Beaumont.

ALICE EVANS . I am barmaid at the Sir Robert Peel, Kilburn—the prisoner came there on 1st October about 10.30 with two more men, and asked for a pot of six-ale; he tendered a half-sovereign—I took it to Mr. Weatherall—the prisoner did not say anything about asking the governor if it was a good one—I had never seen him before.

Cross-examined. I will swear I did not see him on the Saturday before this; I was in the bar the whole evening, from half-past 3 to 12 o'clock, except for a quarter of an hour at 9 o'clock, when I went to supper—we are very busy on Saturday evenings—I do not recollect the face of every person who comes in for drink—I do not recollect seeing him; he might

have come while I was at supper—I gave the landlord the coin, and asked him if it was good, because I thought it was not good when I saw it.

FREDERICK WEATHERALL . I keep the Sir Robert Peel, Kilburn—I was attending at my bar on Saturday, 30th September, from 4 o'clock till 12, with the exception of two intervals of five minutes each—I did not see the prisoner there that evening—on Sunday, 1st October, about half-past 10, he came in with two other men—they did not ask for anything in my hearing, and I did not see them served—the barmaid brought me this coin—I immediately said it was bad, and asked her to point out the man—I do not know if the prisoner could hear me—I said to him, "This is a bad half-sovereign, so very bad. you must know it"—one of his companions said, "Oh yes, he had it here last night in change for a sovereign, we saw him receive it"—the prisoner said, "Yes, that is so"—I said, "I am quite sure that is untrue; you could not have had this half-sovereign in change"—I can swear that half-sovereign was not given in change that night—the other man said, "I am positive he had it"—the prisoner scarcely spoke a word—I sent for a constable, and asked him to take their names and addresses—he said he thought he had better take the prisoner to the station—I always give change for a sovereign in silver, but if the customer asks specially for a half-sovereign the barman comes to me for it.

Cross-examined. I don't refuse to give a customer a half-sovereign, but it is a very uncommon occurrence—I was not out of the house that night—the barmaid could not give a half-sovereign change without disobeying orders—my barman was serving on the Saturday.

DENNIS GRIMES (Policeman X 88). I was called on 1st October to the Sir Robert Peel public-house—the landlord said to me "This man gave a half-sovereign to the barmaid; she gave it to me, and it is bad"—I charged him—he said "I got it here on Saturday night in change for a sovereign"—I found on him half a crown and two shillings good money—the landlord gave me this coin (produced).

Cross-examined. I have made inquiries as to the prisoner, and find he has always borne a good character—he was in the army and discharged with a certificate of good character—I have heard he was in the employ of Joseph Fison and Co. at Ipswich.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This coin is an ordinary brass whist marker—it is not a good sixpence gilded over—the Queen's head is on one side, and the other side is rubbed off—it is not a Hanoverian medal.

Cross-examines. I can see the end of a laurel wreath remaining on the other side, but it wants a numismatic eye to see it—I don't mean that it is intended to resemble a sixpence.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY of attempting to obtain the change by false pretences. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. —To enter into recognisances.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, October 17th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

912. SHERIDAN DAVID PASLEY (37) , Embezzling the sums of 2l. 6s. 6d., 1l. 1s. 4d., and 11l. 8s. 5d. of the Jeye's Sanitary Compounds Company, Limited, his masters,

MESSES. POLAND and BRINDLEY Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.

CHARLES WILLIAM PRICE . I am a chemist, living at 1, Neville Street Abergavenny, Monmouthshire—on 11th March, 1882, I sent a cheque for 2l. 6s. 6d. payable to the order of Augustus Sawres of the Jeye's Sanitary Compound Company—this receipt (produced) was sent to me, the cheque was returned through my bankers, and I was debited with that amount—I have my pass book with me—the initials on the receipt are S. D. P.

Cross-examined. I sent the cheque by post, and received the receipt by post—I think this "Account rendered January, 1878," refers to the goods sent with it—I gave the order for them to Jeye's representative who called on me.

THOMAS STOCKWOOD . I am clerk to the Bridgend Local Board of Health, and have chambers at the Town Hall—on 15th March, 1882, they were indebted to the Jeye's Sanitary Compound Company 1l. 4s. 4d.—I sent this cheque (produced) for that amount to. the offices of the company in London, and got this receipt—it is initialled "Pro Jeye Company, S. D. P., 16l. 3l. 82"—the cheque was paid through my bankers in the ordinary way, and I was debited with it—I have my pass book with me.

Cross-examined. The orders were sent by the Surveyor of the Board through the post.

JOHN HOWARD . I live at the Broadway, Stratford, Essex, and am an oilman—I was lately manager to Messrs. Lee, of 186, Bishopsgate Street Without, oil and colourmen—while I was there the prisoner called on me for orders on behalf of the Jeye Sanitary Compound Company—from time to time I gave him orders—this is an account I received from the prisoner on account of Jeye Sanitary Compound Company—there is an order of three items on 24th March, 1881, for disinfecting soap and purifying tablets amounting to 2l. 17s. 6d.; there are other items on April 11, on May 7 three items, on May 29 two items, and in June other items, and so on down to October 7—the total amount is 16l. 9s. 8d.—some goods amounting to 2l. 10s. 9d. were returned, leaving a balance of 11l. 8s. 5d., which I paid the prisoner in cash on March 18, 1882, and he gave me this receipt, which he signed in my presence—that is the only time I have seen him write—the orders were generally given to the prisoner.

Cross-examined. The money was paid at 156, Bishopsgate Street—the prisoner called on me for the money—the orders were mostly given by me to him when he called—he was the only person in connection with the company I over paid money to, and the only one I ever saw in connection with the company.

AUGUSTUS SAWRES . I live at 111, Crystal Palace Road, East Dulwich, and am secretary to the Jeye Sanitary Compound Company, Limited—our office is at 43, Cannon Street, City—the defendant was chief clerk in the service of the company—I engaged him—it was his duty to attend to the books—he was paid 20s. a week at first and afterwards 28s.—in addition to that he was paid a commission on orders introduced by himself—the rate of commission was 20 per cent, on the purifier and 10 per cent, on the soap—he did not receive that commission weekly, but 2l. or 3l. at a time—he has been paid the whole of the commission due to him—there is nothing due to him from the company—it was his duty to enter in the books any moneys received, and to call my attention to it—it was mv

place to receive money—all letters addressed to me I had to open—if any money was received in my absence, the prisoner's duty was to bring it to me as soon as I came in, and see it written off in the invoice book—unless a date were put against it in the invoice book, it would be very difficult to trace it, as we have about 10,000 small accounts—Mr. Price was in the debt of the company 2l. 6s. 6d.—this cheque never came into my hands—it is made payable to me—my name is in full; the endorsement is not mine—I did not authorise any one to sign it—it is not a good imitation of my writing—the receipt for this money is in the prisoner's handwriting—the account is not made out by him—this is the book (produced) with the entry, and the word "paid" is written across it—I can't say whose writing that is—there is no date to it—the Bridgend Local Board had an account with us—this cheque (produced) is made pay able to me with my name in full—it never came into my hands—I did not endorse it, nor authorise any one to sign it for me—it is not a good imitation of my writing—the receipt is given by the prisoner—the signa ture to this receipt for Messrs. Lee's account for 11l. 8s. 5d. is S. D. P.—it is the prisoner's writing—there are a. number of items on this account of goods supplied by the Jeye Company to Lee and Co. amounting to 16l. 9s. 8d.—sundry sums have been paid, leaving a balance of 11l. 8s. 5d.—there is no entry in the books of the company of those three items marked in blue—our system of ordering from our country works from the Cannon Street office is this: I make out an order-sheet for every order I receive, and I have it copied in the press and send it down to the country—that sheet should represent the whole of the orders that have gone through the books—there were sometimes two or three sheets—this (produced) is the sheet of the 23rd March—I made it out and caused it to be copied in the press—this is the press copy—additions have been made in the prisoner's writing to the sheet—they are "Lee and Co., Bishopsgate Street, two cwt. soap, two dozen purifiers and two dozen tablets"—they amount to 2l. 17s.—the account is in the handwriting of another clerk, Skillman, who was in the office and has been discharged—I made out this sheet for 7th May—it passed through the press book as in the former case-an addition has been made to it in the prisoner's writing, "Lee and Co., two dozen lbs. of powder and two dozen purifier. Urgent," amounting to 2l. 12s.—on June 20th I prepared a sheet in the same way, and it was passed through the press book—there is an addition in the prisoner's handwriting, "Lee and Co., two dozen purifier tablets, and one cask, two cwt. of powder, 2l. 17s. 6d."—on 26th July I made out this sheet—this supplemental sheet to it is in the prisoner's writing—it is an amount of 4l. 10s.—I did not know of that addition being made—we keep a small stock in the office, and small orders are supplied from there—there are some smaller item in this account of Lee and Co.'s which. I find no trace of in the office books—I did not receive any money from the prisoner on this account of Lee and Co.'s—he had no authority to take the company's cheques and cash them.

Cross-examined. I engaged the prisoner at the beginning of 1880—I had a reference, to Burnie, Bellamy, and Co., tent manufacturers, of Mill wall——I had a very satisfactory character with him—I engaged him as book-keeper, and for duties that would fall to a book-keeper—I should not call travelling and soliciting orders part of a book-keeper's duty—he

went one journey out of town two years after he came to me, at his own request—he made journeys in town, but not during business hours—he constantly obtained orders—I would not say that they were obtained after business hours—he would keep the books while he was in—he would not make all the entries in the books; he would see that they were entered—it was his duty to keep the ledger and day-book—the invoice book was kept by the invoice clerk, Skillman—that was to record every invoice before it was sent out—in December, 1881, a boy named Mannell did it—he is still in the service of the company—it was the duty of the person who received the money to write it oil in the invoice book, or to give directions for it to be written off—Mannell is 13 or 14—he has a salary of 7s. 6d. a week—Skillman put the work out he boy—I knew he had done so—Skillman used to bring in orders—he had no leave to go out and obtain orders—I did not know that he went out—he abstracted orders from the letters, and brought them into me—that was not his duty—he was dismissed for doing that on 31st March this year—he was at the office before I arrived in the morning—all letters addressed to me ought to have been put on my desk in the morning—there was another boy in the office, Greenwood—he had 6s. a week—he would make entries and cross others out in the invoice-book by the direction of the prisoner—if Skillman received money in the office when the prisoner was out, it would have been his duty to give directions for it to be crossed out—I don't think the office was ever left to the boys alone—I had a separate room there—when I opened a letter containing a cheque, the course of business would be to pay it into the bank—I should give it into the next room to be paid in, and I should always give the account to Skillman to make out the receipt, and cross them off in the invoice book, and post the receipts to the customers—it has never happened that Skillman has been absent, and that I have given the account to the prisoner to receipt—cheques have arrived when Skillman was oat, but they would wait until he came in—I have never heard of Skillman leaving the boy to write and post the receipt—my son was a clerk there up to August, 1881—he was collector—a minute of the directors states why he left, they wanted an older man—I afterwards informed them that he was a defaulter to the amount of 200l., and I refunded that money myself—until I heard it at the Mansion House in this case, I did not know that the prisoner had informed them about my son's defalcations before I had—our bank was the City Branch of the Union Bank—I sometimes paid the company's cheques into my own private banking account at the Capital and Counties Bank—I often wanted cash for the company's business—it would not be a usual thing for me to send out and get a customer's cheque cashed at the bankers' on whom the cheque was drawn if I wanted money in the office—sometimes I sent the cheques out to get them cashed, and sometimes I paid them in—I had my own little cash-book, in which I balanced every day my own and the company's cash independently of the company's books—every amount I received on account of the company went into the company's cash-book—if a customer paid money into the office to one of the clerks, it was his duty to bring it to me—I should not give him a receipt, but enter it in this private cash-book if I did not enter it in the company's cash-book—at this time the directors were cognisant that I was engaged in a steam laundry company, but it was out of business hours—I was the proprietor of that laundry—it was started in 1880, and I made it over to my landlord

in June, 1881, because there was nothing more to be made out of it—it was not a success—I knew the prisoner was in the habit of getting orders on his own account for the Jeye Company, and receiving money from the customers, and afterwards handing the money to me, and I presume he solicited orders and got letters in return addressed to him personally—immediately I had opened the correspondence in the morning I would make out the order sheets, and if other orders came in I would add them to the sheet, and would sometimes make out a second or third sheet—I was always there in the morning—I would sometimes go out—if orders came in while I was out they would wait till I came in—if the customers were in a hurry one of the clerks might, as an exceptional thing, add them to the sheet—one of these orders of Lee and Co's, is on a supple mental sheet—it was their duty at Plaistow to keep an. account of the orders—although orders were not in the copying book, they would be in the Plaistow books—the November account of Lee and Co. was made out by Skillman—the signatures to the two orders are not alike; neither of them is a good imitation of mine—I myself gave notice to Skillman to leave, and told him the reason, for opening letters—that was the only reason—he did it to obtain orders, and get a commission upon them—I thought that exceedingly dishonest-—I gave him a character when he left, but dated two or three months before he left, as I did not think I could consistently give it him up to the time he left—I did it from softness of heart—this letter (produced) is the character I gave him (This was a character for industry, zeal, and intelligence; and stated that in his few cash transactions he had always been found correct)—the prisoner was given into custody on 3rd July—he came to the "office a fortnight or three weeks before—I did not know he was going to be arrested till the day he was arrested—when he did come I told him there would be a warrant out for his apprehension—the directors said there would be—I told him that from softness of heart, simply to give him a chance of escape—it was no doubt a great indiscretion on my part—he said, "I have done nothing, I cannot understand why I should be arrested," and afterwards he asked if it could be cleared up, if something could not be done—I did not suggest that he should leave, and that I would write to him to a post office in the name of Joseph Wilkins—he asked if I would communicate with him, and I said I would—I might have said before the Magistrate I suggested it; if I did, it was a mistake—he said at first he did not want to be written to-in the name of Joseph Wilkins, but he afterwards consented to it—he asked how I could communicate with him, and I said I would do so in another name—he said, "What name?"—I hesitated a little, and said "Joseph Wilkins," and he consented to it—he said he was quite innooent, and asked if it could be cleared up.

Re-examined. I did not know that at that time the affairs of the company were being investigated by the directors—I knew that it was stated at the Board that they would prosecute any one committing defalcation—the prisoner was regular at the office—I don't think he was a good book keeper—I was on friendly terms with him up to the time of his leaving—since Skillman left I found that he was dishonest—this printed envelope directed to the prisoner's private address with the words "accountant and other departments," was given to me by one of our customers—some cheques that I received I paid in to my own account, but they have all passed to the company's account, every farthing—I don't think the directors knew of my doing it.

ALBERT ERNEST MANNELL . I have been in the service of this company about sixteen months—I wrote this word "paid" in the invoice book at the prisoner's direction—there is no date to it—there ought to have been, by the rules of the office.

Cross-examined. I several times asked to put the date, but the prisoner put me off by saying, "I will give it you another time"—I was not the only person who wrote in this book, anybody would do so who was told to—I had to make out invoices—the dates were not put—in the next two or three pages there are seven or eight entries without a date.

CHARLES WITHERS . I am a clerk in the Shoreditch Branch of the Central Bank of London—Mr. William Ford, of 24, Liverpool Street, bootmaker, had an account there—he is now dead—in the ordinary way he paid in cheques from time to time—both these cheques on 11th March, one for 2l. 6s. 6d. and one for 2l. 4s. 4d., have the stamp of the bank on them—they are country cheques—we keep an entry of the country cheques we receive in a book—I have made a copy from the book—on 5th April this cheque for 2l. 6s. 6d. signed by Mr. Price, of Abergavenny, was paid in to Mr. Ford's account—this cheque for 1l. 4s. 4d. signed by Mr. Stock wood, of Bridgend, was paid in to Mr. Ford's account—it was stamped and passed in the ordinary way.

HENRY VARLEY . I was manager to Mr. Ford, of 24, Liverpool Street, a bootmaker—the prisoner was a customer—he has asked me from time to time to pass cheques for him through the bank—the first time he said he was an accountant, and had business in the country, and cheques were sent to him from time to time from the country, and as he had no banking account of his own wonld I pass them through our bank—I agreed to do it under the direction of Mr. Ford—the cheques were payable to Mr. Sawres—I did not know the prisoner as Pasley; I never heard the name till I was at the police-court—I have taken the cheques from time to time, and paid them in, and given him the money—the only cheques I did not receive from customers were those I received from the prisoner—I could not speak to specific cheques, because there were about 60 of them—it extended over a long period—they were all honoured.

Cross-examined. He was a customer—he dealt at the shop—he gave me the name of Augustus Sawres as his name, because I have entered it in my book—my seeing that name on the cheques would have a tendency to make me believe it was his name—I did not ask his name when he bought boots, because he paid for them at once—I said before the Magistrate, "I don't know if he ever gave me his name "—I did not know him as Mr. Pasley—I should not have cashed these cheques if anybody else had brought them—I gave the cash to the prisoner at the shop when he called—he told me he lived at Brixton.

JOHN DAVIS (City Detective Sergeant). On 27th July last I arrested the prisoner on a warrant—I read it over to him—he said, "I don't remember it"—I told him it was for an amount of 19l. 8s. embezzled on 15th June—hesaid, "I don't remember it"—I said, "I shall have to take you in custody on this charge"—he said, "There is another one in it, and I shall tell you"—I said, "Who's that?"—he said, "The secretary"—I told him there would be several other charges, to which he made no reply—I took him to the station, searched him, and found on him a postal order, which purports to be signed by Augustus Sawres—I showed it to him, and said, "How do you account for this? whose writing is this?"—he said

"Mine; I was only having a bit of a lark with it"—the charge was read over to him, and he made no reply.

Cross-examined. He added, "I did not intend to pass it"—it was a postal order for half-a-crown—December 1881 is the date on it—it is payable within three months—I said, "There will be other charges preferred against you"—it may have been in answer to that he said, "There is somebody else too"—I think his words were, "There is somebody else in it as well as myself"—I can't remember the exact words.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the lax manner in which the business of the office was earried out. — Five Years' Penal Servitude.

913. WILLIAM BUCKINGHAM (45) , Feloniously causing bodily harm to Jane Buckingham.

MR. W. T. RAYMOND Prosecuted.

JANE BUCKINGHAM . I am the prisoner's wife, and live at 18, Park Mews, Kilburn—on Monday 19th June he came in—I don't know that he said anything—he struck me about the face with his fist, and after wards kicked me—I fell down, and he kept kicking me in different parts of my body—I tried to get under the bed out of his way—I screamed, and my son came in and stopped him—before that he threw a plate at me, which hit me on the side of the head and made it bleed—I felt very poorly, and laid on the floor all night—next morning the prisoner got me some brandy, and told me to get a doctor—he was in drink when he did this, and so was I—I took to my bed afterwards, and was attended by a doctor for some time.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I went out early in the morning to take my little boy to the doctor's—I came home about 4 in the afternoon—I had had some drink, and neglected your tea—I did not fall from drink.

HENRY BUCKINGHAM . I am the son of the prisoner and prosecutrix, and lived with them—on 19th June, between 7 and 8 in the evening, I heard my mother scream, and I went to the room and told father that I would lock him up if he hid not leave off knocking mother about—he said nothing—I did not see him doing anything—he was sitting on the bed—mother was lying on the floor—I did not lift her up; she said she felt easier lying there—father had been drinking—I can't say what state mother was in.

Cross-examined. I have seen mother drunk, and you have had to cook the dinner—she pawned your watch—when drunk she is quarrelsome—you have had to sleep in my room in consequence—you have been a good father, and worked hard for your family—my mother has been constantly drunk ever since I can remember.

JOHN MCDOUGAL STEWART . I am a surgeon—on 20th June I was called to the prosecutrix—she was in bed suffering from shock, and from bruises in various parts of the body, caused by violence, from a blunt instrument, such as a fist or a boot—she was afterwards in a state of collapse, and at one time it seemed improbable that she would recover, and her deposition was taken—her state was due to inflammation of the covering of the bowels, most probably produced by rupture of the liver—that must have been caused by some extreme violence, such as a kick—the liver was enlarged, and she was very susceptible to injury in that

organ—that was the result of intemperance—I have known the prisoner for some time as a steady, sober man, constantly at work—he is an army pensioner, having served 21 years.

JAMES PINCOMB (Policeman X R 11). On the evening of the 28th June I saw the prisoner at his door—I said his wife was very ill, and likely to die, and most likely he would be charged with assaulting her—he said, when he came home on the evening in question he found his wife drank and tea not ready; he hit her, and next morning she was very ill—I after wards took him into custody—I have known him for some time as a very kind, inoffensive man.

Prisoner's Defence On several occasions, almost always, I may say my wife has been a drunkard.

MARY JANE LANE . I am the prisoner's daughter, I am married—he has been a very good father, and tried to bring us up respectably, and ever since I can remember mother has been a very great drunkard.

NOT GUILTY .

914. WILLIAM BUCKINGHAM was again indicted for unlawfully assaulting the said Jane Buckingham , to which he PLEADED GUILTY .— Discharged on entering into his own reognisance in 50l.

915. FRANK CURTIS (17), WILLIAM MORGAN (17), and CHARLES MORGAN (15), PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling. house of William Conner Lathbury, and stealing a mirror, two coats, and other articles, his property. CURTIS1s. and WILLIAM MORGAN also PLEADED GUILTY to another indictment for a burglary on 5th September and stealing two pairs of boots and other articles.

CURTIS*— Six Months' Hard Labour. WILLIAM and CHAELES MOEGAN— Seven Days' each.

916. CHARLES JUKES (22) and JOHN EMBERS (19) , Robbery on William John Mitchell, and stealing a watch and chain and three lockets.

MR. HARRY GIFFARD Prosecuted.

WILLIAM JOHN MITCHELL. I am a watch-maker, of Kilburn Park Road, Maida Vale—a little after midnight on 21st August I was returning home through Seymour Place, Bryanston Square, and was surrounded by four men—Jukes was one of them; he struck me violently in the stomach, and stole my watch and chain and lockets, worth 50l.—the others held me from running alter him, and he escaped—to the beet of my belief Embers is one of them—I called "Police," and gave them a description of the persons—on the night of 14th September I saw the prisoners at the station among 8 or 10 others—I picked out Jukes at once, and after looking twice I picked out Embers.

Cross-examined by Jukes. I could recognise you out of a hundred.

Cross-examined by Embers. It might have been a minute before I picked you out—the detective said nothing to me.

FRANCIS NEWPORT (Detective). On 28th August the prosecutor came to the station and gave a description of two men who had assaulted and robbed him—on 14th September, about half-past 11 o'clock at night, I saw the prisoners together in the Edgware Road, about 300 yards from where the robbery was committed—they went into the Red Lion—I went in with another constable and told them I should take them into custody

for stealing, on the night of 18th August, in Seymour Place, a gold watch, chain, and three lockets, from the prosecutor, and likewise assaulting him—they said "We know nothing about it"—I took them to the station, and placed them between nine others—the prosecutor immediately identified Jukes, but was doubtful as to Embers—he ultimately said he be lieved he was one that had hold of his coat.

ALFRED GOULD (Policeman D 269). I was with Newport—I have heard his evidence; it is correct.

JUKES*— GUILTY.— Twelve Months Hard Labour. EMBERS— NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, October 17th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

917. GEORGE M'DONALD (25) and ARTHUR SABINE (23) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Horatio Henry Fleming, and stealing a spoon and other articles, Sabine having been before convicted.— Judgment Respited.

918. EDWARD ROGERS (39) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Sidney Whatley, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. GOODMAN Prosecuted

SIDNEY WHATLEY . I am a walking-stick ferule maker, of 9, New Square, Whitechapel—on 22nd August, about 1 a. m., the prisoner came in front of me at the top of Houndsditch, and said "You assaulted me in Fenchurch Street"—I said "You have made a mistake, I never saw you before "—I walked away from him, and crossed Houndsditch, and he came in front of me and stabbed me in the groin—I did not see the knife—I said "If you don't go about your business I will have you locked up; what do you want to follow me for?"—I went on farther, and he said, "I mean knifing you"—I walked away from him half a dozen yards, and felt a stab in my back parts—I was bleeding—I went on to Bell Yard, and gave the prisoner in custody—I was in the hospital till the next afternoon, and then left, against the doctor's wish, and when I got home I had to take to my bed for three weeks—I still suffer, and it has affected my hearing, which was good before—the prisoner appeared drunk; he staggered about, but he spoke intelligibly when he said "I mean to knife you."

ROBERT WILSON (City Policeman 897). I saw the prisoner following Whatley, who said "He has stabbed me"—I took the prisoner, and on the way to the station he said "I have been set upon by four or five in Fenchurch Street, and I thought he was one of them"—I searched him at the station, and found this knife (produced) in his breast pocket—he was much the worse for drink, but was Able to speak coherently, and to walk without staggering.

By the COURT. We held him by the arms one on each side, as we thought he had a knife—he requested me to let go several times; he said he wanted to get some tobacco out of his pocket, and then to get his hand kerchief—he followed Whatley about 50 yards.

GEORGE FLETCHER . On 22nd August I was house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I examined Whatley; he had a punctured wound in the groin 1 1/2 inches deep, and anothers 1/2 inches deep on his

buttock—they could be done with this knife—the wound on the groin was dangerous, it went into the abdominal cavity, and if it had gone in a slightly different direction it would probably have been fatal; and that on the buttock would have been dangerous if it had touched an artery—I do not see any blood on the knife, but pulling it out would wipe it—I wished to keep him in bed three weeks or a month, but he went home contrary to my advice.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was on my road home from the east, when four or five men knocked me down I got up and found no one near but the prosecutor. I thought he was one of them. I was very much excited by drink. "

The prisoner produced a written defence, in which he said that, thinking the prosecutor was one of the men who assaulted him, he struck him with a knife, but had no animosity against him.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Six Months' Hard Labour.

919. CHARLES WEST (28) , Forcing and uttering a request for the delivery of 12 pictures with intent to defraud.

MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted.

HFNRY EDWAEDS . I am assistant to Henry Ashdoun, a photograper, of Baker Street—on 9th September a boy brought me this letter in an envelope, gummed up—I gave it to Mr. Ashdoun—I had a conversation with the boy—he left, and I followed him—he went up to the prisoner and spoke to him—I said to the prisoner "Do you want these photo graphs?" and he said "No, I have been commissioned by a third party to send the boy to Mr. Ashdoun." (Read: "Please send by hearer 12 cabinets Rev. B. Carpenter. C. H. Harrod. Accounts paid on Monday, when remittance will be sent.") I do not know the signature—I said "I recognise you as having been at Mr. Ashdoun's three or four months ago and had some photographs under the name of Tucker"—he said "Tucker is a friend of mine, I am looking for him"—I asked him to come to Mr. Ashdoun's with me—he said "No, I will find my friend first"—I called a constable, and the prisoner ran; I gave him in custody.

GEORGE PUDDIFOOT . I am clerk to Messrs. Harrod, who keep a general store at 101, Brompton Road—the prisoner was in this employ 12 months and left—this order is his writing on one of our present forms, it is signed "C. B. Harrod"—those are Mr. Harrod's proper initials.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have seen you write many times here is some of your writing (produced), but I did not see you write itthe books are all in your writing, but they are not here.

JOHN BALL (Policeman D 222). On 9th September, about 3 p. m., I was on duty in Oxford Street—Mr. Edwards called me, and the prisoner started running, but he laid hold of him in a few yards, and gave him in custody for obtaining photographs under fake pretences—he said "You have made a mistake, I am not the man. "

HENRY ASHDOUN . I am a photographer, of Baker Street—en 13th April the prisoner brought me this order: "33, Mansion House Street, Hammersmith. To Mr. Ashdoun. Sir,—Please send me one dozen Miss Irene Win your trade list and invoice, and I will send the amount. Yours truly, S. Tucker. "I did not complete the order, but I let him have a few—I afterwards went to 33, Mansion House Street, but could not find Mr. Tucker or any stationer's shop—I saw the prisoner at

the station on 19th September, and charged him; he said "There is such a person, but his name is Ticey; Tucker is a false name that he gave," or he may have said "the name he trades in. "

Cross-examined. I ascertained that a person of that name slept there.

GEORGE PUDDIFOOT (Re-examined). These two letters are not the prisoner's writing, they are Ticey's writing—he was in the same employ as the prisoner.

The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that the letters were in Ticey's writing, who was going to open a shop in the name of Tucker, in which he was to assist, that Ticey employed him in delivering letters, the contents of which he did not know; that he took a letter to Mr. Ashdoun's and received a sealed packet from him, which he delivered to Ticey, and that he had given the officers every information to enable them to find Ticey.

GUILTY of uttering. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, October 17th, 1882.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

920. JOHN HARRIS RULE (38) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully receiving from William Fox and Ernest Harry Archer 5s. and 1l. 1s. obtained by false pretences. —Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

921. WILLIAM HENRY EAST** (38) to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Waters Ware, and stealing a clock and other goods, and 3s. 8 1/2 d., and to a conviction of felony in October, 1873, in the name of William Brown. Ten Years' Renal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

922. ANGEL ANTHONY DODD (25) to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of 40l. and 52l. 5s. 6d.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.

923. PATRICK KELLY (17) to stealing two vases of Alfred George Weaver.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

924. JOHN RYAN (18) to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Morris, and stealing two pairs of trousers and a vest— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

925. THOMAS RICKETTS (46) , Breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Henry Light, and stealing a watch and 5s., his goods and moneys.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted.

THOMAS HENRY LIGHT . I reside at the Berkeley Arms, Greyhound Road, Fulham—I retired to bed on 17th April, about 12. 15, having seen that the house was perfectly safe—about 8.15 a. m. on 18th I found the window open of the closet on the stairs between the ground and first floor sufficiently to admit a man—I also found the door open which led into, the yard—I missed my watch from my dressing-table—it was there when I went to bed—from behind the parlour door two coats had gone, and a clock from the mantelpiece, two pairs of boots from the cupboard, and some loose coppers from the sideboard—the prisoner was a casual customer—the goods produced are mine—they were safe the night before.

HENRY CROOKENDEN (Sergeant R). On 18th April I received information of this robbery—I went to the prosecutor's house and examined the promises—I found a person had got over a back wall, placed a large flower-pot on an empty butt, got into the water-closet, through the window, and passed down into the house and out at the back door—on the 18th, about 11 a. m., I was in the North End Road, Fulham, I saw

the woman Barnett carrying a bundle, and her husband and the prisoner together going towards her—they went into a public-house near the railway-station, came out, and went into the railway station—the prisoner stood at the door—I followed the woman on to the platform—I asked her what she had got in the bundle—I opened it. and found it contained these two coats (produced)—I took her into custody and searched for the prisoner—he had gone—I kept observation on his house, 47, Field Road, Fulham, until 10 p. m.—as he did not return I went in and searched the house—in the cupboard in the first-floor front room I found these boots—I have been searching for the prisoner ever since, till Sunday at 2 a. m., when I went to 47, Field Road—I watched a lodger in and went upstairs—I found him secreted in his night-clothes between the drawers and a corner of the room—I said "Ricketts, you will have to go the station"—he said "All right, I will go"—going to the station I said "You will be charged with entering the house of Mr. Light and stealing a clock, a watch, two coats, and a pair of boots, his property, on 18th April last "—he said "I know nothing about it. "

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have not known you to be in trouble before.

JOHN BARNETT . I am a shoemaker, of 4, Star Lane, North End—on 19th April, about 10 a. m., the prisoner called on me—I had known him previously—he brought two coats in a bundle—I asked him where he was going to; he said "Up the road"—I said "I am going to South Kensington;" he said "Ask the missis if she will carry these up"—I said "What are they?"—he said "Two coats"—my wife carried them up—the constable saw us going along—when we got near to the railway station we went and had something to drink at the Three Kings—I went and paid the train to South Kensington—when the missis had gone down the prisoner said "Crookenden has gone down;" I said "What for?" he said "You will see"—I forgot to take my change up; I went down after the missis—I said "What is this about?" the policeman said "I must take you into custody"—I said "I know nothing of them; I was asked to take care of the things, that is all I know about it"—I was arrested, committed, and acquitted.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not call you out of the Clarence Hotel—I went up the road with you—a constable met the missis when you and I were walking up the road—I did not tell you going along that I bought six pairs of boots of your nephew at 1s. a pair.

ELLEN BARNETT . I am John Barnett's wife—I remember carrying this bundle on 19th April—on 18th April, about 10 o'clock, the prisoner gave my husband the bundle outside the gate of our house—my husband gave it to me, and I carried it to the station—Crookenden stopped me and asked me what I had got; I said "Two coats. "

By the COURT. I live at 4, Star Lane, North End, Fulham—my husband was home before. 10 o'clock that night, and the door was closed.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am not guilty. I never knew how to break into a house. I get my living by hard work as a scaffolder, and I have been to work ever since."

The Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent. I have got two masters here, Mr. Marsh and Mr. Young, who will give me a good character. (They were called, but did not answer.) The only thing I thought of getting into; trouble, for was in buying the boots. I did not know they

were stolen. The other things I know nothing at all about—I never aw them till they were brought into Court.

GUITY of receiving. — Eighteen Month' Hard Labour.

926. DANIEL WILLIAM BURGEN (18) , Robbery on Frederick Finder, and stealing his watch and chain.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted; MR. BLACKWELL Defended.

FREDERICK PINDER . I am a waiter, of 42, Leicester Square—about 12. 80 on the night of 17th September I was walking down St. Martin's Line—I saw the prisoner with several men—he snatched my watch and chain from my waistcoat pocket—the chain was attached to the buttonhole—two men held me, one on each side—he ran away—I next saw him at the Marlborough Street Police-station the same morning—I have not seen the watch since—1 am quite sure it was the prisoner.

Cross-examined. It was a dark night—there were about six or seven people about—I had been to a friend's in St. Martin's Lane—I was not sober—I remember the prisoner's features, because he stood in front of me, and I remembered his face on the following morning all at once at the Marlborough Street Station—I do not remember saying I was not tore he was the man—I said he was the man.

RICHARD MATTHIAS (Policeman C 67). About 12.30 a. m. on Monday, the 18th, I was in West Street—I saw the prosecutor go with a female down West Street—I knew she was an associate of what is termed "the forty thieves of the Dials"—the prosecutor was under the influence of drink—I saw the prisoner and two others on the opposite aide of the was—they walked direct to the prosecutor, and the prisoner made a rush at him, the other two catching hold of his arms—the prosecutor shouted "Stop thief"—the prisoner ran up St. Martin's Lane into a court, and I turned him—I caught him in about 600 yards—he said "I have not got the watch"—the prosecutor came up and said "That is the man that has got my watch"—at the same time he had a blow with a stick or a stone which knocked his hat off—he was knocked down—several who appeared to be associates came and shouted.

Cross-examined. I never saw the prisoner before that night—I took a note at the station of what he said—I have it (produced)—it took a quarter of an hour to get to the station—I asked the prisoner what he ran away for; he said "Nothing"—I never lost sight of him—the night was fine—there was. as much light as the lamps carried—two man were. with the prisoner, when I saw him attack the prosecutor, but ho. ran through a gang, who shouted "Go on," and tried to trip me up when I ran after him.

NOT GUILTY .

927. WILLIAM FITCH (27) , Feloniously wounding William Meacham, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted.

WILLIAM MEACHAM . I am a plumber, of 84, Cambridge Road, Bethnal Green—the prisoner is my brother-in-law—a summons which was pending is now quashed—I was at the police-court on 5th September—the prisoner followed me when I left the court—he said "What are you dogging me about for?" I said "I am not dogging you about, don't you interfere with me"—I went into a butcher's shop to avoid him—he tad attempted to strike me before that—four of us were together—I

said "Fetch a constable"—the butcher's people said "Do not come in here to cause a bother;" I said "I won't cause a bother, fetch a cab" and one of them fetched a cab, and I got home—about 7 p. m., as I was closing the shop, the prisoner struck me on the back of my head—I was nearly stunned; my head bled—the prisoner said "Now, you b—, come out and fight"—I shut the door, and with others closed with him and held him down in the gutter till a constable was fetched—on the ground he used very bad language—on letting him get up he threatened to murder me; he has done so many times—a doctor was fetched at the police-station, and my head was bound up.

GEORGE LOFTBURY . I live at 74, Wentworth Road, Bow—on 5th September I was with the prosecutor when he was shutting up his shop—I was bringing the shutters out, and as he was putting up the last shutter the prisoner came behind him, and the prosecutor tell in my hands bleeding—the prisoner said "Well, you b—, fight me now"—he threw away this piece of iron (produced).

PHILIP JOSEPH JACOBS . I live at 6, Key Street—I was present on 5th September when the prosecutor was shutting up his shop—I observed the prisoner come from the kerb with this iron—he struck the prosecutor on the back, and he fell in Loftbury's arms—the prisoner dropped this iron, and I picked it up—I and others caught hold of the prisoner—he started kicking, and we held him to the ground by the aid of constables—he used several threats.

FREDERICK JOSIAH BURGESS , M. D. I 'reside at 54, Bethnal Green Road—on. 5th September I was called and examined the prosecutor—on the upper and back part of the right parietal bone he had a contused wound an inch and a half to two inches deep in the skull—it was likely to be a dangerous wound.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

928. HENRY WOOD (35) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences of Solomon Lorie 50l. Second Count, unlawfully making a false declaration.

MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.

SOLOMON LORIE . I am a financier, of 99, Argyle Street, Regent Street—on 29th April Wood called at my place of business—he said he wanted to borrow 50l.—I asked him what security he offered; he said "An engine and some horses at Clapton"—I said I would send down and see if they were there, and if the security was sufficient then he could hare the money—I asked him whether the property was all his own; he said it was all his own and unencumbered, he never borrowed any money on it before—I gave instructions to somebody in my employment to report; in consequence of that report another interview took place between us, and Wood had the money—I told him the security was ample—he was to repay 4l. or 5l. a month—he received 50l.—one instalment was repaid—before the second instalment was due I had certain information, and I found the property had been moved—I saw Wood, and told him he had obtained money by false pretences and had made a false declaration—he said "I am very sorry," and it was wrong; he hoped I would take no proceedings against him—I put the matter in my solicitor's hands-1 have never received any but the one instalment—he offered a bill of sale as security when he had the money; I accepted it, and he executed It—I asked him whether the property was encumbered; he said "No,"

and I prepared a declaration to that effect, which he executed in my presence.

Cross-examined. The bill of sale and the declaration were on our printed forms—we require a declaration as a rule—we do not charge for it, the charge is for the money—I do not remember whether the solicitor was sent for to take the declaration—Wood said he had some furniture in the Nassau Road, Brixton—a clerk went to his house, and from there to where the horses were—I can swear the furniture was not the first thing he offered because he said he had very little furniture—he had 23l. or 25l. in gold and 27l. by cheque, about half in each, because he wanted sufficient to pay out an execution—he did not call and tell me that Mr. Lutwyche had seized the engines—he told me Mr. Lutwyche had seized his private furniture; that was some time afterwards, but I knew it—he also said Lutwyche had no right to seize his furniture—he asked me what he should do—I said I would investigate Lutwythe's security, and see whether he had a right to seize—he came to see me in order that I should not prosecute him—I heard of the seizure about a week afterwards, and I sent to the Registry Office to search for any other bill of sale—I got certain information, in consequence of which I obtained a copy of the bill of sale given in favour of Lutwyche, and I communicated with him—that was before the prisoner came to me—I had counsel's opinion upon it—I gave it over to my solicitor, and put the matter in his hands before the defendant called upon me—I told Wood I had done so—the attorney was inquiring into the validity of this security—he said he was very sorry the first tune I saw him after I knew of the existence of the bill of sale.

R-examined. I do not know why I did not take proceedings before—I saw Wood read the document.

HENRY THOMAS TIDDEMAN . I am a solicitor, of 50, Finsbury Square—I saw Wood sign this bill of sale to Lutwyche on 4th April, 1881—I explained it to him; it has been duly registered—the consideration was 559l.

Cross-examined. Lutwyche was a tradesman of some means, who formed a fire brigade for local fires—the bill of sale was given as security when the property was handed over to Wood—no money passed—559l. was the estimated value of the goods—as a rule I explain a bill of sale clause by clause, but I do not prepare many.

WILLIAM GEORGE BURGESS . I am manager to Mr. Lorie—I was present when Wood first went to Lorie—Lorie asked him if the goods were unencumbered; he said "Yes, they were"—I was not present when the money was advanced, but I was present about a month after when Lorie told Wood, after he had found that Wood had given another bill of sale, that he could prosecute him for perjury and obtaining money under false pretences—Wood said he was very sorry; he knew he was guilty.

Cross-examined. I do not remember any one else being present at that interview, which was after May, 1882—he was guilty, and was very sorry—those were the words he used—Mr. Goateley happened to be in the office when the declaration was made—I do not remember whether he signed it in my presence.

Re-examined I asked Wood for the information before putting "The whole of my debts do not exceed the sum of 10l., and my assets are 300l. "—the first paragraph states that Wood is the solo and absolute owner of

the property, "Nor is any part thereof charged with my encum, branes."

GEORGE HARDING . I live at 12, Whitchurch Villas, Richmond, and am employed by Messrs. Drew and Sons, auctioneers—in April last I surveyed the fire-engine, hose, also the furniture in Nassau Road; about a month afterwards I found they had been removed—I could not fix the date.

Cross-examined. I went to report as to the value for Mr. Lorie—it was a small house in the Nassau Road; about six rooms—I reported separately as to the furniture—my reports were in writing—I cannot swear to the value of the furniture, certainly not 80l.—it was more like 30l., but I have only a slight recollection of it.

Re-examined. The money was advanced on my report.

WALTER EPHRAIM GOATLEY . I am a solicitor, of 7, Russell Street, Covent Garden, and a commissioner to administer oaths—on 24th April this declaration was made before me, and subscribed to by Wood—I gave it to him and asked him to read it carefully.

Cross-examined. I cannot say the prisoner was the man who signed—the person who signed it represented himself to be Wood—I happened to call at Lorie's to see a solicitor at that time, and being a commissioner I was made use of—it was signed in my presence, and I asked Wood whether it was his signature, and whether it was correct—it was handed to me by a clerk or by Mr. Lorie.

SOLOMON LORIE (Re-examined) The signature "Henry Wood" to this declaration is the prisoner's.

Cross-examined. I saw him sign it—I would not consider it a declaration unless I saw the person sign.

NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, October 18th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Williams.

929. CHARLES WRIGHT (21) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously killing and slaying George Holden.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And

930. JOSEPH WILLIAM YARROW (22) to stealing a cheque for 142l. 5s. of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England, his employers. He received a good character.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

931. THOMAS CONNOR (26) , Feloniously setting fire to a mattress, bed, and rags in the dwelling-house of Joseph Hales, persons being therein.

MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.

JOSEPH HALES . I am a fishmonger, of 112, Drury Lane—the prisoner lodged on the first-Moor front—on 17th September, about 2 o'clock in the morning, I was in bed, and was awoke by two of the lodgers calling out "Fire!" and saying that Connor had set the place On fire.—I got on my things as soon as I could, went down, and met. a young man coming with a policeman—I saw a bed in the street burning—the constable went up and broke open the prisoner's door—I was close behind him—the constable said "You are having a fine game"—the place was full of smoke, and there were some bits of rag burning—the policeman took them up, and put them in a tub containing some water—there was no fire in the grate—the prisoner said nothing—I gave him in charge.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There was no flame in the room when I went in—the upper part of the window can be seen from the street.

WILLIAM DODDS (Policeman E 362). At 2.30 on 17th September I was called to 112, Drury Lane—I saw fire coming from the top floor window—there was a bed tick in the street burning—I went upstairs, and knocked at the prisoner's door—he said "Who's there?"—I said "Police"—he said "What do you want here?"—I said "Open the door"—he said "You are not coming in here"—I burst the door open—on entering the room I saw two or three pieces of rag burning, and pieces of flock out of the bed—there was some water in the room—none had been thrown on the floor—there did not appear to have been any fire in the grate—I took the prisoner into custody—he said he had been having a game to himself.

Cross-examined. I was in the room three or four minutes—I was extinguishing the fire—I picked it up, and put it into some water that was in the room—I could see your window from the street plainly, and taw pieces of fire coming from it—the rags in the room were flaring; it was not a very large flame—I picked it up with my hands and with a small piece of tin that was in the room; the wood on each side of the fireplace was scorched.

By the COURT. No other part of the room was burnt—the rags were all about the room; not piled up anywhere—I had no difficulty in patting them out.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate "I was a little the worse for liquor. I went to sleep, and awoke and found the bed smouldering, and I then threw it out of the window."

NOT GUILTY .

932. JAMES RONAN (40) was indicted for the wilful murder of Mary Ann Ronan.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN defended, at the request of the COURT.

JOHN RONAN . I am the prisoner's brother—I lodged for a few days at 3, Queen's Place, Whitechapel, with the prisoner, his wife, and child Mary Ann, who was about 2 years 2 months old—they had another child in the hospital—I had a bed on a chest to lie down on at night; we all slept in the same room; the prisoner, his wife, and child slept on a bedstead—on Tuesday evening, 5th Sept., I went into the room; I was sober; I had taken a drop, a share of a couple of pots, but I had my senses; I was not out of the way in the least—there was a small lamp alight on the mantelpiece—the prisoner's wife was lying on the bed dressed; the prisoner was lying on the floor; the child Mary Ann was on the floor with her head towards the fender; the prisoner had his head towards the window and his legs towards the fire; he was fully dressed all but his coat; he had his boats on—a mug on the floor close by his side; there were marks of liquid spilt on the floor; I can't say whether of beer or water—I went to the bedside and topped the wife on the arm, and said" Margaret, it is a nice thing to see the child lying on the floor at this time of night in the wet"—she said "Give it to me, Johnny"—I picked up the child and handed it to her; it seemed quite warm; I saw a little blood across her mouth; I did not notice whether she was dead or not; when I gave her to her mother she said "My God, the child is dead!"—I said "Nonsense, it is impossible"—I looked

at it, and was not positive that it was dead—Mrs. Ames, a lodger, was coming by; the door was open, and I called her in—the mother asked for some water to wash the child, and I went to fetch a doctor—the prisoner was still on the floor asleep—I could not get a doctor, and I returned to the room in about a quarter of an hour; I then saw that the child was dead—to the best of my knowledge the prisoner was still asleep on the floor—I woke him and said "This is a nice affair"—ho seemed in a muddle, and said something about the confounded drink—I don't believe he had his sense about him—I then went and fetched the police, and they sent me for a doctor, and Mr. Sequira came—there was a small fire in the room and a fender to it, and a shovel, tongs, and a piece of iron for a poker—the wife was intoxicated.

Cross-examined. The room door was fastened by a piece of leather and a small bolt; anybody could push it open; it was three or four feet from the street door—it is a double house with a door in the middle and six rooms, each occupied by labouring people; the street door was left open at night for the lodgers—the prisoner is a dock labourer, and has been a great number of years in the service—I had a job to awake him—he appeared very much upset—he went and kissed the child and so did I—he was an affectionate father and a good husband—he said he could not make out how it was done.

CATHERINE BOWKER . I live at 2, Queen's Place, opposite the prisoner's—on Tuesday afternoon, Sept. 5, the prisoner's wife left this child in the court while she went to the hospital to see the other child—I took the child upstairs and put her to bed about 5, after giving her some tea—the prisoner came home about half-past 6—I afterwards went into the room, and the prisoner and his wife were there, both very drunk—I stood the child on the floor and came away—it was then fully dressed and quite well.

Cross-examined. It looked a well-fed little thing, as if great care had been taken of it—the father was very fond of it—when I took it over he seemed pleased to have it.

MART ANN AMES . I am the wife of Robert Ames, of 3, Queen's Place, Whitechapel—we occupied a room on the first floor about two years—the prisoner and his wife have been there since Christmas—on 5th September I was at' homo till about half-past 7 in the evening, and then went out and came back about 9.30 or 9.45—I saw the prisoner lying on the floor, I believe asleep; the mother had the child on her lap; I could not see whether it was alive or dead—I did not go farther than the door—they seemed fond of the child.

JOHN WILLIAM COLLEY . I am a surgeon, of 68, Leman Street, Whitechapel—about 11 on Tuesday night, 5th September, I went to 3, Queen's Place, and in a room on the ground floor I saw a child lying on the bed quite dead; the arms were cold, but the body was rather warm—I should think it had been dead about two hours—on the 7th I made a post-mortem examination—there was a large contused wound just above the right eye, it was bleeding slightly, and a contusion above the left temple; another contusion above the left eye, over the linear, extending towards the nose—neither of those were bleeding—there was a small quantity of blood about the nostrils and mouth, the frontal bone was fractured and driven into the brain substance, and all the other bones round were fractured and quite loose—there were superficial abrasions on the right side of the body extending from about the seventh rib down towards the knee; those would be caused

by dragging the body about—the upper third of the right arm was fractured—there were no wounds on the left side—there was a small contusion on each elbow and knee—the cause of death was the fracture of the frontal bone; that must have caused almost immediate death—the injuries could not have arisen from the child merely falling on the floor—considerable force must have been used, such as by a blunt instrument, possibly the heel of a boot—the wounds over the right eye and the temple were quite separate and distinct from each other—the internal organs were all healthy—I saw the prisoner that night; he was drunk, and the wife also seemed to be drunk.

Cross-examined. It would require a considerable amount of violence to cause such fractures as I found—a heavy body, such as a drunken person, falling on the child might possibly account for the injuries; I do not think so; it would require some hard substance—I don't think a drunken woman stumbling over the child from the bed would account for it, nor if the child had fallen with its head on the fender, and then a person had stumbled on it—I should not like to swear it, but from the description I had of the fender I think there would have been more cutting about it—I do not think a blow from the jug would cause the injuries—I saw the prisoner's boots; there was no trace of blood upon them—I did not examine the poker or fender to see if there was any mark of blood upon them.

CHARLES MEADOWS (Policeman H 206). On the night of 5th September I was called to 3, Queen's Place by John Ronan, and in the front room ground floor found the little child quite dead, lying on a bed with a cloth tied round its head—I saw a bruise on its forehead; it was dressed, except the shoes and stockings—the prisoner and his wife were in the room—I asked him if anybody had gone for a doctor—I was told that the brother had gone, but could not get one, and I sent for one—I asked the prisoner whether he could account for the child's injuries—he said "No; me and my wife had been to Bartholomew's Hospital to see another child; on our way home we had several drops of beer"—the wife said "Yes, it might have been two or three pots; we were both drunk"—the prisoner said "We went home; my wife lay down on the bed and I laid on the floor. I recollect nothing more till my brother woke me up at half-past nine, and said the child was dead"—I asked if he recollected what time the child was brought to him—he said "No, I can't recollect"—I asked the wife whether she could account for the child being on the floor—she said "No"—the brother then came in with the doctor—I examined the room; I saw this jug on the floor about six inches from the fender—there was a very small portion of water in it. and a lot of water spilt round it—I saw one spot of wet blood about the size of a sixpence in front of the fireplace, about six or seven inches from the fender—there was a poker between the bars of the fireplace, and the fire was out—I did not notice any other fireirons—the fender was in front of the lire in its proper place—it was an ordinary old-fashioned kitchen fender, with a flat top—nothing in the room was disturbed—the bedstead stood about two feet from the ground—I knew the prisoner by sight—he u a dock labourer—he was not taken into custody at that time.

Cross-examined. The place where the child's body was found was pointed out to me; it was not above four inches from the fender—the wet was not between that and the fender.

STEPHEN WHITE (Police Sergeant H) At 9 o'clock at night on 7th

September I went to the prisoner's room—he was then sober—I told him I was a police officer, and I wanted to speak to him with reference to his deceased child—he was very excited—I have a note of what he said—he said "It is a crime and a mystery, whatever shall we do? I was very fond of the child; she would meet me in the court at night when I came home from work. On Tuesday me and my wife went to the hospital to see our child. We had some drink on the way home, but I was not exactly drunk. My wife laid down on the bed. About 7.30 I went out to get some more beer. At 8.30 I gave the child a drink of water in the passage of the house; there was nothing the matter with her then. I then laid down on the floor; my wife was still lying on the bed, and I knew nothing more about it until my brother came in about 9.30 and found the child lying by my side dead"—I told him that the child's death had occurred under very suspicious circumstances, and I should have to take him into custody on suspicion of causing its death—on the way to the station he said nothing—after the charge was entered it was read to him, and he then made this further statement: "I was not exactly drunk; I went home about 6.30 with my wife"—he then said "We were both drunk; my wife laid down on the bed and I laid on the floor till about 7.30, when I went out and got some more beer. I returned home again between 8 and 9 o'clock, when I gave the child some water. I then laid on the floor and went to sleep, and do not remember any more till I was called by my brother at 9.30. My wife did not get off the bed from the time when she first laid down until the child was put by her side, when it was discovered she was dead." When he was taken into custody he was wearing these boots (produced)—I saw some spots on his trousers—they were examined by an analyst and reported not to be blood.

Cross-examined. There is a water-tap in the passage outside the prisoner's room.

MR. JUSTICE WILLIAMS was of opinion that there was not a sufficient case to go to the Jury, the evidence pointing as much to the wife of the prisoner at to the prisoner himself.

NOT GUILTY .

933. JOHN CROW (21) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the wilful murder of George Green.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and BLAKWELL Defended.

JOHN SULLIVAN . I am 16 years old and live at 6, Parker Street, Drury Lane—I work and mind carts in Covent Garden Market—on Saturday night, 30th September, I was at the corner of Shelton Street, just as the public-houses were closing, 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoner inside the public-house—he ran outside and used bad language to a policeman who was there, and the policeman told some of the people there to take him down the street—some persons took him three or four yards from the public-house, and he struggled and came back—Green came over and went up to the prisoner and asked him to come home—he said "No, leave go of me, because I have got a spite in for you"—Green did not let him go, he took him on the other side to try to get him away—the prisoner said "Are you going to let me go?"—Green said "No"—the prisoner then lifted up his hand and struck Green right in the breast—he had a knife in his hand, you could only see the blade of it—I saw

it in his hand when he came outside the music hall; it was open then—Green went about three steps and then fell in the gutter—I said he was stabbed; I did not know whether he was stabbed—I went up to him—somebody came and struck a match, and they all said he was stabbed in the chest—he was bleeding from the heart—there was a lot of blood running out of his side—they dragged the prisoner away; he dropped his crutch and I picked it up—he was very drunk—I did not notice what state Green was in—I knew them both.

Cross-examined. They are cousins—I have not frequently seen them together—the prisoner is a cripple, he can hardly walk without his crutch—he drew the knife from his right-hand pocket; it was open—Green was not there when the prisoner first drew the knife and opened it; that was about five minutes before Green came up—he did not show the knife, he held it down by the side of his crutch—I could not see whether both blades were open; his crutch was under his right arm—after Green laid hold of him three strangers also laid hold of him and tried to get him home—he tried to wrench himself away—Green had hold of him round the waist by himself; the other three had hold of him when Green fell—it was very dark in the street—he was so drunk that the other persons lifted him along; that was at the time Green was stabbed—Green and the prisoner had had no quarrel beforehand—there were u lot of people at the back when Green and the others had hold of him—I did not see what they were doing; they were not hustling, they were only standing looking on—I should think Green was a stronger man than the prisoner.

THOMAS WILLIAMS . I am a costermonger, of 22, Shelton Street, Drury Lane—on this Saturday night, just as the clock struck 12, I was in Shelton Street, going home—I saw the prisoner and deceased struggling together—I was about a yard from them—no one else was taking part in the struggle—the prisoner said "If you don't let go of me I will stab you"—he said it in rather a rough way—I went away as he said the words—I came back in about two minutes and saw the deceased lying in the gutter smothered in blood—I went and got a barrow.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was very drunk indeed—I did not notice whether there were other persons there.

JOHN BENNETT . I am a labourer of 13, Shelton Street—on Saturday night, 30th September, a few minutes after 12 o'clock, I saw the prisoner "peaking rather angrily to a policeman—I asked him to come home; he refused—I then left him for about five minutes; I heard a noise, turne I round, and saw two men on the ground—some one called me and I went and saw the prisoner and a young man named Blaney on the top of hi a on the ground—the prisoner had a knife in his hand—I took it from him; it was open—I put it behind me and it was taken or knocked out of my hand—I don't know what became of it—there was a mob behind—I heard some one say "Poor old Grow is stabbed"—Crow was a nickname fur Green—I helped to take him to the hospital—the prisoner was drank.

Cross-examined. I was six or seven yards from the two men; I heard no row; I was near enough to have heard a loud voice say, "I will stab you"—it was rather dark where this occurred—the prisoner had no crutch in his hand—I did not see Sullivan there—there were a great many people,

LEWIS JOSEPH BLANEY . I am a cook, and live at 24, Drury Lane—about 12 o'clock on this Saturday night I was outside the Great Mogul in Drury Lane; I saw the prisoner outside rowing with somebody directly I went up to him I saw him draw a knife from his right trousers pocket and open it; I could see the blade—a policeman was standing close by; I said," Look out, he has got a knife in his hand"—I said to him,"Crow, what are you doing?"—he made no answer—I took him about two houses down Shelton Street—he then threw me; I felt the cold blade come on my wrist, and I let go; we were both on the ground together—I was cut on the wrist; it was accidental—I stood on the kerb for a minute holding my hand; afterwards Bennett came up—I took hold of Crow and took him to the door of his house, and I saw no more of it—in about a quarter of an hour the police took charge of him—I did not see him use the knife at all, or what became of it—1 did not see the deceased man at all.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was halloing and making a great noise outside the Great Mogul—he was a little bit intoxicated—it was whilst he was doing that that he drew out the knife and flourished it about in a stupid manner.

CHARLES KIPPING . I am a labourer, and live at 25, Eaton Street, Primrose Hill—I had been to the Great Mogul Music-hall on this Saturday night; as I came outside I heard a noise, shouting and halloing; I went round the corner and saw a man lying on the ground—the prisoner was standing up leaning against the wall; he had an open knife in his hand—I went and spoke to a constable.

JOSEPH SIMS . I am barman at the Great Mogul—I first saw the prisoner in the house about half-past 9 on this Saturday night—the last time I saw him was half-past 11—he had a white-handled knife with two blades; he offered it to me for sale; I said I could not be troubled about it—he was the worse for drink, and I refused to serve him with morehe was playing with the knife in front of the counter; it was open—he went outside and took the knife with him.

JOHN HAMPSHIRE (Policeman E 357). About midnight on Saturday, 30th September, I was in Drury Lane—I saw the prisoner in front of the Mogul Tavern; he was under the influence of drink; I asked him several times to go away; he was jumping and dancing about, and behaving in a very disorderly manner—he became very abusive at the corner of Shelton Street, about 20 yards from the Mogul; there were several men about there, and they took hold of him and took him away down Shelton Street—he had his crutch at that time—I turned stay and did not interfere with him further—about two minutes afterwards Kipping came to me, and from what he said I went to Shelton Street and saw Green lying on his back in the roadway near the centre—he was bleeding from the left breast—I could not see the prisoner then, he had gone down the street—I got assistance and took him to Charing Cross Hospital in a barrow, but he was dead before he got there—he had not spoken—I at once went to 8, Shelton Street, where the prisoner lived in the first-floor front; he was there—he was the worse for drink, you could not call him drunk, he knew perfectly well what he was doing; he was being held down by a witness for the defence, who stated that he had been suffering from a fit—I told him I should take him into custody or murdering George Green—he said, "All right, do what you like, I

am tired of my life"—I sent for an ambulance, and took him to the station on it—when the charge was read over to him he said, "Thank you, sir, I am very much obliged; wilful murder"—when he was being removed down the street by the men, they took him by the arm and led him away gently enough.

MARMADUKE PICARD . I was house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital when George Green was brought there on the Saturday night—I examined him at once; he was dead—I found a wound over the left nipple—blood was not flowing then, but his shirt was steeped in blood—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—it was an incised wound, half an inch above the nipple, about an inch long—it had gone through his clothes and penetrated the heart—considerable force must have been used—it might have been inflicted by a stab with an ordinary pocket-knife, but rather a long blade, I should think—death must have been almost immediate—he had two cuts on one finger of the left hand, which might have been done by grasping the knife.

Cross-examined. He was a more powerfully built man than the prisoner.

Re-examined. The cuts on the finger were down to the bone—I said at the police-court that the deceased was a slightly built man, but I am disposed to alter it, I should think he was rather a strong man.

THOMAS GREEN . I live at 34, Shelton Street, Drury Lane, and am the brother of George Green—he lived in the same house with me—I went to the Charing Gross Hospital, and saw his body there—I last saw him that morning at a quarter past 10—he and the prisoner were first cousins—they used to see each other very often, and were on very good terms—I never knew them to have any words.

Cross-examined. They used to see each other perhaps a dozen times a day, and very likely oftener—They were very friendly, indeed, as far as I knew.

The following Witnesses were called for the Defence:—

CATHERINE SHEA . I am the wife of Robert Shea, a bricklayer's labourer, of 2, Shelton Street—about a quarter past 12 on the night of 30th September I was sitting at my door with my husband, and saw Green and the prisoner at the corner about 80 yards from us—I saw Green cuddle the prisoner round the neck, and ask him to go home—he said "No, I will not go home; let me go"—they were scuffling—there were about a dozen people there, but I did not see them interfere—I did not hear the prisoner say, "I have a spite in for you," or "I will stab you"—I was near enough to have heard; they were speaking very loud—the prisoner was very drunk—Green had been drinking, but I don't think he was quite as bad as the prisoner—they were struggling for about a quarter of an hour; the prisoner trying to get away, and Green trying to prevent him.

Cross-examined. I did not see the knife—I saw Green fall, about two yards from my door—I did not see him struck—before Green came up some men were trying to get the prisoner home, the prisoner was without his crutch—I knew them both by sight.

ROBERT SHEA . I am the husband of the last witness, and was with her at our door, when I saw the prisoner and Green come round the corner—Green said to him, "Will you go home?"—ho said, "I won't go home; let me alone. I won't go home yet"—Green seized him round the

waist with five or six more, and drawed him within a yard of my door—the others were taking part in it; trying to drag him home—they dragged him about 29 or 30 yards—he did not make any resistance—they were scrambling, trying to get him home, and he trying to prevent them, and they slipped—he had not got his crutch—1 have known him for 16 or 17 years—he is a kind, gentle, and humane lad—I saw them all go down together—a crowd got round, and a woman struck a lucifer while they were on the ground, and said, "Oh my God, Crow is stabbed"—I never missed sight of them from the corner till they came very near my door—the prisoner never called out "Let me go or I will stab you," or "I have got a spite in for you"—I swear that—I followed him down to his own room, and he had three fits there—I got him out of them—the constable came in and asked me had 1 the knife about me, or did I see the knife, and I said, "No "—I believe the prisoner is subject to fits—I was down on him keeping him to the ground when the constable came in; he was just getting over it—I have seen him and Green together—they were always friendly—I never knew them to have any words—Green was intoxicated.

Cross-examined. The prisoner is not quarrelsome when he gets a little drink—I never knew him in any rows unless he was tormented and his crutch kicked from under his feet—they would take his crutch away and throw it down—I never saw him use his crutch against any one—I did not see the knife in his hand; it was pitch dark, too dark for any one to see it—I never saw any blow struck; I saw them slip—I don't remember having said I saw it all and that it was an accident, and his crutch slipped from him, and in trying to catch it he fell against his cousin and the knife wounded him—I never said such a word.

WILLIAM LANE . I live at 26, Shelton Street—on Saturday, 30th September, about 12. 15, I was standing at the corner of Shelton Street, and saw Crow and Green talking together—they went up to a policeman—Green and another man tried to drag him away; he resisted—he was very much intoxicated, he was waving his arms about, exclaiming "Let me go, let me go"—a struggle was going on all the time—they were helping to drag him down the street—I saw Green put his left arm round the prisoner's waist and try to drag him away, and the prisoner refused to go—I saw Green look at his hands, and I said "Poor old Crow is stabbed," meaning Green—I saw the whole of it from beginning to end—the prisoner did not at any time say "I have got a spite in for you," or "I will stab you," that I swear—I followed the barrow in which Green was placed to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I knew both Green and the prisoner—I was there from the time the quarrel commenced till Green was taken to the hospital—by the quarrel 1 mean the struggle, the dragging him away—I did not hear the prisoner abuse the policeman or use bad language to him—it was while the policeman was there that some of the men tried to get the prisoner down the street—Green came up just as the policeman was going to lock the prisoner up—I did not see him take the prisoner round the neck, he took him round the waist, and said "Come home" two c three times—I saw Green look at his hand; I did not see in what state it was—I saw the prisoner with a knife in his hand when they were a little way down the street—I did not see him strike Green with it—I saw him fall—1 said he was stabbed, from the way in which he looked at his hands.

MARY ANN DRISCOLL . I am the prisoner's sister—he and Green were on very friendly terms—they were drinking together the night this happened—I never knew them quarrel—I have known them from childhood—they always ate and drank together.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY of manslaughter. — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

935. JOSEPH MANZI (27) , Feloniously setting fire to straw near a building known as the Hope Granary, in the possession of Harriet Boncher.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted.

ABRAHAM SMITH (Policeman E 898). I was on duty in Charles Place, Shadwell, on 16th September last—about 1.40 a. m. I saw the prisoner some little distance from the granary in Charles Place—I heard footsteps and waited in the shade of a lamp for a few minutes—the prisoner came near me, waited, and looked about and appeared to be listening—he then went towards the granary, which lies back from where I was standing, some five or six feet from the carriage way—there are two windows in the granary, facing into Charles Place—they are between four and five feet from the ground—the prisoner went to or near this window—I stopped there for some two minutes and then walked away very quietly on my toes—I did not see or hear anything take place while he was waiting there—following on I came to the window and saw some straw inside the grating, alight, on the window ledge—there was some other straw lying in the roadway, as if an old straw bed had been there, and this on the ledge was similar to that outside—I cannot say whether the straw was burning at that window before the prisoner went up there—fifteen minutes before I had seen the window and there was no straw there, only what was lying in the roadway—it was impossible for me to put out the fire, as the grating was only two inches wide—I followed the prisoner into Broad Street and then turned into Glasshouse Fields, at the top of which, in Bath Street, I overtook him—I asked him what he was doing out at that hour in the morning—he said he was going home—I said "Where do you live?"—he said at "331, Cable Street"—he was going towards Cable Street when he left the corner, but he had only that instant turned the corner when I took him into custody; he had been going in the opposite direction—Charles Street is half a mile from Butcher Row—when he started in the opposite direction he was going away from home—I told him I should him into custody on suspicion of having set fire to the place in Love Lane—he said "I have seen no fire"—I then took him back to the granary—he said "It would be no advantage to me to set it on fire"—the straw was still burning when we got there—it had fallen from the window ledge, which inclined into the building, and the place was full of smoke—I then sent a constable for the fire engine and took the prisoner on to the station, where he was formally charged—he said in reply "I We been down to Butcher Row with my brother to see him home, as we have been to Lusby's to night together"—Lusby's is a music hall in the Mile End Road—and "I was coming up along Broad Street and Love Lane when a constable stopped me and brought me here"—the prisoner was searched and a lucifer match was found on him at the station—on going back to the premises I found this lucifer match

lying under the window, about two feet from the brick wall—it had not been struck, but appeared to have been trod upon—the brimstone was rubbed off—the firemen extinguished the fire.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I and another constable took you to the station.

JOSEPH DEATH (Inspector H). I was at Shadwell Police-station when the prisoner was brought in at 2 o'clock on the morning of the 16th—I formally charged him with setting fire to this granary—the last witness related what he has given in evidence, and the prisoner replied "I have just been to Butcher Row to see my brother home; we have been to Lusby's, and I came along Broad Street and up Love Lane. I saw no fire whatever, and when at the top of Love Lane this constable came up and said I shall take you into custody. I said 'What for?' He replied 'I will show you,' and took hold of me and brought me to the station"—I searched the prisoner and found a lucifer match—it had not been struck, and was similar to the one found by the last witness—it is an ordinary sulphur wooden match—the one that was found by the granary had not been struck, but the brimstone appeared to have been all worn off—I afterwards went to the premises, and found this loose straw in the road—apparently it is part of the contents of an old mattress or palliass—it was about five feet from the window—I saw a quantity of burnt straw on the ledge inside, and under that some sacks, all more or less burnt.

By the COURT. Grain and sacks were in the granary—the sacks were about 71/2 feet underneath the window ledge, and four feet from the window—the window is nothing but an iron grating—the straw was as much as might be put into a bushel basket—the sacks had been on fire; they were oat when I got there—some of the sacks are here.

ABRAHAM SMITH (Re-called). The straw had been lying in the road in a heap for some three hours—there was about an armful—it was reduced when I saw it after the fire—it was a fine night—there was no straw on the window ledge when I first passed it—when I saw it afterwards some was burning inside, and a few loose straws outside were not on fire at all.

WALTER BOUCHER . This granary in Charles Place, Shadwell, is the property of my mother—after this fire I went and saw that several sacks had been burnt—I know nothing of this straw—I had been there the day before—I had last seen the premises about 8 o'clock; it was dark then—I did not notice any straw.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do not know anything of you—you would have no animosity to me, and I don't know any benefit you would have got out of it.

By the COURT. Barley was in these sacks, and a few beans and a little maize—the sacks were so dry they Would easily have taken fire even if loaded—I cannot say how many were burnt; some were all charred up—the barley was damaged by water and smoke—I should think the value of the sacks and grain consumed was about 30l.—I should think about 25 sacks were consumed or partly consumed and their contents injured—they were full and piled on one another in tiers against the wall—they did not reach up to the window—the window is about two feet square—there could not have been many sacks with their faces towards the window—I can't say if any empty sacks were on the top of the full

ones—the next morning the barley was in a heap, as the sacks could not hold it—it was just kindling up when the fire engines got there.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am innocent"

Witness for the Defence.

CAROLINE MANZI . I am the prisoner's mother—it is very usual for him to be out late at night, and it is generally his practice of coming home past our house in Butcher Bow and going along Broad Street, up Love Lane and King David Lane towards his own house in Cable Street—he had been working at our house, and left to take the work home that night—he is a picture-frame maker, and I believe he had a few words with his wife on going home, and that accounts for his coming in a contrary direction towards our home—he has often been at our house all night in consequence of the unpleasantness of his family matters.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he had had high words with his wife on that evening, and in consequence went round to his, mother's; that he in going home down Butcher's Mow and Love Lane, where ha stopped for a certain purpose, and then walked up to the top of Love Lane, where the constable took hold of him and charged him.

NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, October 18th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

936. WILLIAM ROBERT HOPCRAFT (38) and SIDNEY CODY (28) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a cheque for 550l.; also a cheque for 400l., with intent to defraud. HOPORAFT— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. CODY received an excellent character,—Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— Four Months' Hard Labour.

937. CHARLES SIMMONS (23) to felonionsly marrying Frances Lizzie Humphreys, his wife being alive.— Four Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

938. GEORGE HENRY DOWNES (25) to feloniously marrying Louisa Jane Rowell, his wife being alive.— Three Days' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

939. JOHN MOORCROFT (33) to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Samuel Farrow, and stealing four bottles, and other property.— Three Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

940. JOHN SMALL (30), WILLIAM JONES (30), WILLIAM: HAMPSON (24), and CHARLES INCE (24) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Weaklin Moule and stealing a clock and other articles, his property.

MR. GOODMAN Prosecuted; MR. ROMIEU defended Jones.

JOSEPH HELSTON (Police Sergeant L). On the night of 15th September I was in the New Kent Road, near Rodney Street, with Detectives Tewkes, Warlock, and Gills, and saw Small and Jones in a pony cart coming in a direction from the Elephant and Castle—they got out and went into a public-house, came out in two or three minutes, and we took them into custody—Gills and I took Small—I said to Small "We are two police officers, and are going to take you in custody"—he said "What for?"—I said "For what you have in this cart"—he said P I am not b——well going," and began to struggle very violently, and we were obliged to put him in the bar of the public-house and send to the station for assistance—he was searched at the station, and among other things I found this button in his trousers pocket—a clock and some coats were

brought in from the cart, and we asked him how he accounted for it—he said "I don't know anything about any clock; I am only employed to take the cart home"—I said "You took it out this morning"—he said "Yes; two men employed me to take it out in the morning and bring it home in the evening. I don't know where they go"—I said "Who are they?"—he said "Hampson and Ince"—I said "You were out with them yesterday with some females?"—he said "No, I was not"—I said "I saw you"—he said "What sort of a trap was it?"—I said "A four-wheeled trap"—he said "Yes, that is quite right"—I went from there with the same officers to 94, Tabard Street, Borough, where I saw Hampson in bed—I told him that Small and Jones were in custody charged with the unlawful possession of a clock—he said "I was hired by you and Ince to take the cart out in the morning, bring it back in the evening, and if the cart was left it was left there by you "—he said "You have made a mistake; I don't know anything about it"—I said "Who does the furniture of this room belong to?"—he said "To the landlord"—I said "Who does that clock belong to?" which was on the mantelpiece—he said "The landlord"—I sent for the landlord and asked him if it belonged to him—he said "No; there was no clock there when I let him the room; the other furniture is mine, but that does not belong to me"—I said "Have you any further explanation to rive?"—Hampson said "Yes, I bought it off Charles Ince"—I said "I shall take possession of it"—he was taken to the station—Ince was brought in—they were all four placed in the dock again, and I said to Hampson and Ince "These two men, Jones and Small, are charged with the unlawful possession of this clock, and Small says that he was employed by you to take the cart out in the morning and bring it back in the evening, and if there was a clock there it was left there by you"—Small said "Yes, that is right"—Ince said "I have not seen you to-day before"—Small said "What are you talking about?"—Ince said "Well, only at the public-house to have a glass of ale"—they were then charged—I can speak to Small positively as being in the cart.

Cross-examined by Small, I did not mention the nut in your pocket at first, because I did not know that it was part of the clock—I mentioned it on the second occasion—I did not say, "You had better plead guilty or else you will get into trouble."

Cross-examined by Ince. I did not ask Hampson if you were the man who sold him the clock—I heard the officer speaking about it, and he said, "This is not the Charles Ince I mean."

CHARLES BALDOCK (Detective Sergeant L). I was with Helston when Small and Jones were in the pony-cart—I took Jones, and told him he would be charged with the unlawful possession of what was in the cart—he said, "I know nothing about it," and turned to Small and said, "You have got me into a pretty thing by riding with you; if he does wrong, that is no reason why I should; I can prove I have been drinking about all day at the Alfred's Head and the Elephant and Castle"—I got into the cart, and found this clock covered over with two coats—this is one of them produced—I have seen all the prisoners together, and I have seen small and Hampson and Ince in the cart two or three times—they were confined in separate cells, and about 3.30 a. m. Ince called out, "Jack"—Small said, "What?"—Ince said, "Why did not you take that trap home when we left?"—Small said, "We were going home, and just pulled up to

have a drink, and when we came out we were seized by six of them"—Ince said, "Why it was an hour after we left you"—Hampson said, "What did you want to tell them where we lived for?"—Small said, "I did not, they knew, and told me the colour of the coats we wore when we went out on Thursday"—Ince said, "What has Jim Cowen to do with you?"—Small said, "He got up and had a ride, and we just pulled up and had a drink"—Hampson said, "You told us you had got a mould for that dock"—that is a slang phrase for a man who will buy—no answer was made to that—I saw Ince the day before with Small and Hampson three times in a waggonette—I was present when Ince was arrested.

Cross-examined by Small. It was over eighty yards from the public house where I saw you at the New Kent Road—I did not say when I saw you in the trap the first time, that I wanted you for a burglary at Kingston—I allowed you to remain in the public-house four minutes, because I was alone—when the other officers came up I arrested you.

Cross-examined by MR. ROUMIEU. Jones made no resistance—I have seen him with the others, but not in the cart.

Cross-examined by Ince. I put the conversation down in a book, but I did not give it in the usual evidence next morning, because only sufficient evidence was given to get a remand to enable us to find the owners of the property.

HENRY DUKE (Detective Officer L). I was with the three other officers, and saw Small and Jones drive up to the Crown and Anchor—Baldock and I took Jones—Baldock got up into the cart, and found a clock—I told Jones he would be charged with the unlawful possession of the clock—he said, "I have only just met him, and we have been to have a drink; I can prove I have been at the Alfred's Head and the Elephant and Castle having a drink the whole of the day. If this man, Small, chooses to steal a 5l. note, what has that to do with me"—I took him to the station, and he said to Small, "This is all through ha vim; a glass of ale with you"—Small said, "What is the use of your growling to me, ain't I as innocent as you"—I accompanied Baldock to 12, Alfred's Place, Old Kent Road, and found Ince and his wife in bed—I told him he would be charged with Small, Jones, and Hampson with the unlawful possession of a clock—he said, "I don't know such men"—I said, "They are in custody at Kennington Lane Station"—he said, "I don't know them"—I looked under the bed, and found a table-cover and two toilet-covers with Mr. Moule's name marked on them—he said, "My wife attends Bales, and they were bought at sales."

Cross-examined by Ince. Small had not been drinking—he struggled violently to get away—I did not see you on the day of the robbery—you did not tell me that you bought these things in East Lane.

WILLIAM GILL (Detective L). I was with the other officers when Small and Jones were arrested—I went with them to 94, Tabard Street, and saw Hampson in bed—I took him in custody, and told him that a man named Small had said that he and Ince had employed him to take a cart out and back—he said, "I did not know Ince before"—I said, "You were Been with him yesterday"—he said, "Yes, we took our wives out yesterday, and I left him with the pony and cart at the public-house over the way"—there was a clock on the shelf—he was asked whose it was—he said the landlord's.

Cross-examined by Hampson. You at first said it was the landlord's, and afterwards you said that you bought it of Ince.

Cross-examined by Ince. I did not see you on the 13th or on the 14th—I had not seen you before.

FREDERICK YOUNG . I live at 33, Adam Street, New Kent Road, and let out horses and traps—I have frequently let them to Small—he used to take them out in the morning, and bring them back at night—on 13th September I let a pony and cart to Small, and when he came home in the evening about 8 o'clock, he asked me if I would buy a clock—I said, "No"—he asked me again next morning, and I said there would he no harm in seeing it—I saw Hampson in the beershop on the 13th with another man, a stranger, and I saw Hampson and Small together on the evening of the 13th.

Cross-examined by Small. I did not ask you on the 11th if you had a watch to sell me, or ask you to get me a good timepiece.

Cross-examined by Hampson. All the time Small has had traps of me I never saw you in his company before.

CHARLES WEAKLIN MOULE . I am a tailor, of 47, Park Village East—on 13th September, about 7 a. m., I left my house fastened up; I returned about 8.20 p. m. and found the front inside door open; the bar of the scullery window was wrenched and the window broken and open—this coat, clock, and toilette covers are my property; they were safe when I left home and were gone when I came back—this little button is part of the clock; it is broken.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Small says: "About twenty yards from the public-house where I stopped I saw William Jones I called him, and we went in to have something to drink; we came outside and were arrested. I was going home with the trap, and bade him goodnight My watch chain was detached in the struggle. What was in the trap this man knows nothing about." Jones says: "The other prisoners are all perfect strangers to me. Small I have only seen three times in my life. How I came to know him was by reading about the war in Egypt, as I told him I had a brother in the 94th Regiment. On 15th September I was going down New Kent Road; somebody called me; I looked round and saw Small in a trap. He came up and asked me to have something to drink. I did so. I was not in his company four minutes altogether. He did not tell me what he had in the trap, or where he had been. He said he was going to take the trap home. I did not see him drive anywhere else." Hampson says: "On 15th September I was in a public-house. Small came in and I recognised him by having had a glass of ale with him. I went to bed, and the police came and took me, and asked me who the clock on the mantelpiece belonged to. I told them it was mine; I bought it of a man named Ince. I can have two characters to prove I have been at work up to the 15th.

The prisoners repeated the same statements in their defence.

SMALL, HAMPSON, and INCE— GUILTY. Hampson and Ince then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, Hampson at Clerkenwell in February, 1881, and Ince at Newington in April, 1881.— Five Years' each Penal Servitude. JONES— NOT GUILTY .

941. EMMA LEE (22) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Thomas Beale, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. ROMIEU Prosecuted.

THOMAS BEALE . I am a printer, of 33, Victoria Street, Barnsbury Road—on 3rd October, about 9.30 p. m., I was at the Grapes public-house, Seven Dials, and saw the prisoner in the other bar—the barman made a communication to me—I went for a policeman, but could not find one; as I came back the prisoner met me; she pulled something out of her pocket which I could not see and struck me on my head and on the bridge of my nose—my nose was cut from one end to the other right through the cartilage my nose has been sewn up; I lost a great deal of blood—she ran into a coffee tavern; I stayed outside till a policeman came, complained to him, and he brought her to me—I went to the station, where my wounds were dressed, and she took a knife out of her pocket and gave it the policeman, but did not say anything—I had never seen her before, and had not struck her or spoken to her.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The barman did not say that he did not send me for a policeman—a young man did not knock you down—I did not knock you down on the Monday night coming across the Dials—I was not a witness in a case in which you gave a young man five years; I never beard of it—I did not take up a half-crown which a young man laid on the counter—I was not in that bar—you were trying to escape by the back door.

CHARLES WHITE (Policeman E 92). I was called to this coffee tavern and saw Beale outside the door—he said he would give the prisoner in custody for stabbing him through the nose with a knife—he had a severe stab on his nose, which was bleeding very much, and he had a slight stab at the back of his hand, which I did not see then—he charged the prisoner, and I took her; she gave me this knife, and said "I did it in self-defence"—it will not shut—she had been drinking, but—she knew what she was doing—Beale was perfectly sober—I took her to the station; she said "I have been kicked about the legs, and I wish the doctor to examine me"—the doctor did so.

GEORGE LYONS . I am a printer, of 20, Porter Street, Leicester Square—on 3rd October I was in the same bar with the prisoner and her companion, another woman—the prisoner called for some rum in a bottle, and her companion tapped her on the back and picked up a half-crown which a customer laid down—Beale was in the other bar, and saw her take it—he ran after a policeman, but could not find one, and as he tried to stop her coming out of the bar she stabbed him across the bridge of the nose, and ran into a coffee tavern—Beale had not touched her—I did not see anybody strike her.

Cross-examined. I was in the Queen Street bar by myself—I did not come round with Beale—I did not tap the customer on the shoulder to draw his attention—I did not put my foot out and throw you down and kick you—there were not thirteen of us round you—no one kicked you—you struck Beale on the nose with the knife, and said that you did it in self-defence.

JOHN MURPHY . I am a general dealer, of 33, Corunna Road, Battersea—I have heard Lyons's evidence; it is quite true.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was that the prosecutor met her in Seven Dials, knocked her down, and kicked her; that she afterwards saw him in the bar of the public-house, when he interfered about a half-crown, and went for a policeman, and afterwards met her at the door, knocked her down, and kicked some of her teeth out; that he tried to choke her, and left the

marks of his hands on her throat; and that, having a knife in her hand peeling an apple, she struck him with it in self-defence.

Prisoner's Defence. All I did to this man was in self-defence. I was six months gone in the family way when he kicked me.

CHARLES WHITE (Re-examined). I did not see any apple in her hand—I saw the knife—no half-crown was found on her.

THOMAS BEALE (Re-examined). It was the prisoner who took up the half-crown; she put it near the other woman when I went for the policeman.

GEORGE LYONS (Re-examined). I saw the half-crown; the prisoner took it up, and I thought she put it in her pocket, but I saw her companion take it from her.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .—Recommended to mercy by some of the Jury.— Judgment respited.

942. HENRY ROGERS (36) , Robbery with violence on Samuel Gee, and stealing 1s. 6d., his money.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted.

SAMUEL GEE . I am a fish-hawker, of 46, Great Peter Street—on Sunday morning, 3rd September, about 12.15, I was in the kitchen; the prisoner was there—we had had no quarrel—he was not sober; he caught me by my throat, and laid hold of my hook—I have only one arm—I said "What are you doing?"—he said "I will show you," and hit me in the eye, and knocked me down, and took 1s. 6d. out of my waistcoat pocket—I said "What are you doing, you vagabond?"—he said "I will kick your brains in"—I said "What for?"—he said "I will show you"—I went to the station, and told a constable, who told me to lock him up, but he gave me the slip, and I never saw him till the Tuesday evening, about 11 p. m., when he came down in the kitchen, and said "Where is that b——?"—I got behind him, went upstairs, got a policeman, and gave him in charge—he then wanted me to have some beer to square it up—I said "No"—he does not live there, and he had no business there.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not get holding you by your throat with my hook about three weeks previously.

JOHN COOPER (Policeman B 98). Gee gave the prisoner into my charge on Tuesday—he said "I know nothing about it; I shall treat you to a pot of ale and be done with it"—he rushed into the Queen's Head, pulled off his coat, and rushed out of another door without it, and ran away—I caught him, and took him to the station.

Cross-examined. You made no complaint to me, and did not show me a bruise on your arm.

HENRY HALE . I am a labourer, of 46, Great Peter Street—I was not present when the prisoner attacked Gee, but I saw him lying under the table, and the prisoner standing over him, saying "You b——, I will kick you"—he struck me in the left eye, and he thon kicked me in the jaw, and knocked me down, and felt in both my trousers pockets, but got nothing from me.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I only stood in self-defence. "

The Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty of the 1s. 6d., but I am guilty of the assault in self-defence.

GUILTY **. He then

PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Westminster on 5th July, 1881.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

943. TIMOTHY SHINE (27) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Rebecca Clarke, and stealing five sheets and other articles her property.

MR. DOUGLAS Prosecuted.

REBECCA CLARKE . I live at 113, Seymour Street, and am a widow—I take in things to mangle—on Saturday, 7th September, between 9 and 10 p. m., I went out for a short time; the area door was open, but there was a grating over it, so that no one could get in, and the front door was shut—I returned about 11. 25, and found the kitchen door open, which I bad locked when I left—I went into the kitchen, and missed a bundle of clothes, and saw the prisoner behind the door—I seized him by the collar; he did not struggle; he merely got up—he seemed senseless—he did not try to get away—I shouted for help; my son-in-law, who lives in the house, came and helped me to hold him—I went for a policeman, and when I came back he was gone—I had never seen him before—these things had been sent to me to mangle; they were worth 3l.—I found them behind the door.

WILLIAM HENRY GREENER . I am a watchmaker, of 113, Seymour Street—on Saturday night, about 10. 40, I heard a noise, and found Mrs. Clarke holding the prisoner on the first flight of stairs—I and another young man held him while she went for a policeman—he could not have come in from the front—we took him out, and gave him in charge.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. A little girl opened the door and let in the man who assisted me.

Re-examined. The door had been opened by a latch-key from inside—the prisoner was very quiet at first, out. when we would not let him go he seemed violent.

JOHN CHARLES HOWE (Policeman). I heard a cry of police, saw the prisoner and the witness struggling, and took him—he was very violent, but with assistance I got him to the station—he kicked, and we had to hold his legs and hands.

Cross-examined. You were not drunk.

FRANK BISHOP . I live at 113, Seymour Street—Mrs. Clarke called me; I caught hold of the prisoner's arm and collar, held him, and Mr. Greener ran to the private door—he asked me to let him go, but I would not, and he struck me several times in the chest—he managed to get to the street door, and fell—I fell on the top of him, and he bit me in the leg, and hurt me.

Cross-examined. You were not drunk.

WALTER THEOBALD (Police Inspector D). I examined 113, Seymour Street, and found marks at the side of somebody going over a low wall, apparently from the toes of boots, and on the leads I found footprints; the zinc of the fanlight was broken, and inside there were marks on the wall of feet—there is a skylight leading into the house—there was nothing to prevent a man getting in there, because the zinc work was broken away.

Prisoner's Defence. I was going home drunk. The woman says that I appeared senseless when she found me behind the door; if I had been in my proper senses I should not have gone there.

GUILTY . He then

PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell in April, 1873.**†— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

944. DANIEL SHEEN (27) , Feloniously assaulting Jeremiah Lyhone, with intent to rob him.

MR. W. P. RAYMOND Prosecuted

WILLIAM BICKLEY (Policeman E 293). On Sunday morning, October 8th, about 12.30, I was on duty, and saw the prisoner and another man holding a drunken sailor against some shutters—I said "What is the matter?"—the man with the prisoner said "This man owes me a shilling for bringing a bag ashore"—I asked the sailor if he owed him any money—he said "No, I never saw the man before; they have followed me from Leman Street"—I ordered the men away, and told the sailor to go home—they went about 120 yards towards Cable Street—I watched them, and saw the prisoner knock the sailor down, fall on the top of him and feel about his pockets—he shouted "Police!" and as the prisoner arose from the sailor I caught hold of him—the other man ran away, but I took them both to the station—then the prisoner said to the sailor "Say you don't know who did it, old man"—he was charged, and made no reply—I was only on the other side of the road when the blow was struck, and could see plainly.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am sure you are the man—I took hold of you as you arose from the sailor, and I saw you knock him down—he was the worse for liquor, but you were sober.

GEORGE STRAW (Inspector H). I was on duty at the station when the prisoner was brought in—Bickley charged him with assaulting a drunken sailor, who gave his name and signed the charge-sheet—I asked him if he had lost any money; he said "No. for the last time I paid for drink for him I took the precaution to put it into another pocket," and he showed me several shillings—the sailor was drunk, but not sufficiently so to be placed on the charge-sheet—I found that he went to sea the next day. GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, October 18th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

945. JOSEPH REARDON (19) and HENRY SMITH (21) , Robbery with violence on Henry William Tayler, and stealing a watch, his property. Second count Demanding money from him with menaces.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

The evidence is unfit for publication.

GUILTY .

SMITH was further charged with having been convicted of felony on 17th January, 1878, at Westminster Police-court.

JOHN PRESTON . I arrested Smith, was present at his trial and conviction on 17th January, 1878—1 produce the certificate—he is the person mentioned—two others were with him—it was for stealing two ropes off brewers' drays.

GUILTY.**†— Five Years' Penal Servitude. REARDON— Two Years' Hard Labour.

946. ALBERT MILSOME (18), FREDERICK SHAWCROSS (21), and CHARLES SHINN (16) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of George Penn, and stealing 4s., two bottles of rum, and other goods. MILSOME and SHAWCROSS PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. SMITHIES Prosecuted.

ROBERT ANDERTON (Policeman X 84). On 7th September, between 4 and 5 o'clock, I saw some lads outside the Mitre public-house, Golborne Road, Kensington—Shawcross tapped the window, and they all ran away—I received information and went to the public-house door—it was unfastened—it was a double side door, and had a fanlight over it—I aroused the inmates—I found Milsome in one compartment behind the door, and two bottles of rum under him, which the prosecutor has identified—going to the station Milsome threw some coppers away—I saw the prisoners previously about 100 yards from the Mitre.

WILLIAM HENRY RUSDALE . I am a builder, and live at the Mitre—the landlord is Mr. George Penn—I was in charge of the premises, he being absent—on the night of 7th September I went to bed about 1 o'clock—all the doors were, fastened, and all the fanlights closed but one, which was left open owing to a string being broken—that was on the top of the side door—I saw that door bolted before I went to bed—about 5 a. m. I was awoke by Anderton knocking on the stairs—I went with him and found Milsome concealed behind the door, with two bottles of rum—some tobacco was found on him at the station—the rum had been on a shelf at the back of the bar, and the tobacco was in a drawer—"G. Penn" was on the bottles—I also missed 4s., in bronze which had been left in the till.

THOMAS MAYOR (Inspector X). On 7th September I examined the prosecutor's premises—the side door was closed, but the fanlight was broken, and the dust rubbed off the top, as if some one had entered.

ARTHUR DRUGS . I am a carrier, of 13, Connaught Terrace, Notting Hill—on 7th September I was outside the Mitre about 4.30 a. m., in the Warrington Road, near the side door—I heard rattling of bolts inside—I saw Shawcross and Shinn outside, and I saw Milsome through the window inside—he was looking out—Shawcross and Shinn passed me twice—I was there about a quarter of an hour—I saw them walking round the house—Shawcross shuffled his foot and told the prisoner inside to go round the corner.

THOMAS DOVE (Sergeant X). I took Shinn on Thursday, 14th Sept.—I had been looking for him—I told him he would be charged with being concerned with Milsome and another in breaking into the Mitre public house—he said "I did not break into the house, Mr. Dove; about 4.30 a.m. I and another were sitting on a doorstep, I saw Chalky (that is the nickname for Shawcross) go into Milsome's house; both came out together and said "We are going to get a bit of silver;" Milsome and Chalky said they would give us a shilling each, to watch; Chalky shoved Milsome up through the fanlight; I afterwards saw a butcher and then a policeman, and we ran away"—I know Chalky.

Shinn's Statement before the Magistrate. "It was Shawcross said he would give us a shilling each to look out, not Milsome."Shinn received a good character.

GUILTY. SHINN— Six Months' Hard Labour.

MILSOME PLEADED GUILTY ** to a conviction in November, 1879.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

SHAWCROSS** also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction in November, 1879.—Five Years' Penal Servitude.

947. GEORGE BREWSTER (39) and LABAN PHIPPS (39), Stealing four flasks and other goods, the property of Victor Blumberg, the master of Brewster, to which Brewster PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE defended Phipps.

FREDERICK DOWNES (City Detective). I have been engaged watching the prisoners for about three weeks since September 20th—on 13th October I was with Egan, and saw Brewster leave No. 2, Cannon Street Messrs. Blumberg's fancy warehouse—I stopped him—he made a statement to me—I took him to Thames Street Police-station—then I went with Egan to Mr. Swinnerton, Messrs. Blumberg's manager, No. 6, Am well Street, Pentonville—I saw Phipps—I said "I am a police officer I have a man named Brewster in custody for robbing his employers, Messrs. Blumberg's, and he has made a statement with regard to you"—he said "I do not know Brewster, I do not know Blumberg's "—I said "He says that about 10 days ago he sold you two ladies' companions and a flask for 8s., and other goods, and you have induced him to get some more; I want all the goods that you have bought from him"—he said "lama dealer in job lots; he told me they were job lots"—he took me into a back room adjoining the shop and took from a chest of drawers these two silver-mounted drinking horns, and said "I bought these from him to-day for 10s. "—from a drawer in a chest in the same room he produced three flasks, a ladies' companion, a pocket-book, a purse, six tortoiseshell combs, and two picnic sets incomplete—I said "You will be charged with receiving these goods knowing them to be stolen"—be made no reply—I conveyed him to Thames Street Station—in Brewster's presence I said "Brewster states that you have induced him to get goods for the past 12 months"—I said to Brewster "Phipps said you sold him these two horns for 10s. to-day;" he said "Yes"—the charge was read over to both of them and neither replied.

Cross-examined. I omitted to say that I said to Phipps, "I mean the man whom you were drinking with in a public-house this day at dinnertime," and then he said he brought the things from him—the horns were in tissue paper.

JOHN EGAN (City Detective 159). I with Downes received instructions to keep observation on Brewster—I watched him on the 20th, 21st, and 23rd September—I followed him from Messrs. Blumberg's premises during his dinner-hour to Phipps's residence in Amwell Street—I saw them together on the 21st and 23rd—I saw Brewster enter Phipps's shop by the side door on each occasion between 2 and 8 p. m.—Brewster left by the private door with Phipps; they went to a public-house and drank together; then they parted, Brewster returning to the warehouse—on 13th October I saw them on Ludgate Hill and followed them to a public house, where they remained drinking a few minutes and then separated—I saw Phipps standing with his van outside Messrs. Spiers and Pond's premises—I have heard Downe's evidence and corroborate it—I saw Phipps speaking to a gentleman I do not know between two vans, and he showed a flask similar to this one to a man as if he was offering it for sale; I hastened to see what it was, but Phipps put it away hurriedly.

ERNEST APGOOD . I live at 45, Ashmead Road, St. John's Wood—I am a buyer for Messrs. Blumberg—I went to 6, Amwell Street on the 9th, 10th, and 11th inst., by instructions from the police—I saw a little girl on the first occasion, and on the second and third occasions Mrs. Phipps—I bought two ladies' companions and a flask for 20s.—the wholesale price would be 33s.—we have similar goods in stock—they were taken from the middle drawer of a chest.

Cross-examined. I asked to see an opera glass first; I led up to the lady's companion; I said I wanted a present.

GEORGE SWINERTON . I am manager to Messrs. Blumberg and Co.—to the best of my belief the articles produced are identical with those we hive in stock—they are not damaged; they are not goods that would be sold in a job lot—their value would be 12l. or 187.—Brewster was a packer—I have never sold him job lots—he is present when goods are invoiced and entered, and would know their value—I should call goods suitable for job lots such goods as have been broken or damaged by travelling about the country—one fitting is missing from the picnic set, bat we have a fitting-room, and could supply it.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate, "I identify them all as goods we deal in generally; their total value would be about 7l., "but that is for the cups, they are three special articles—there were three special charges at the Mansion House—we sell to oar men for personal use; we do not allow them to buy for trading purposes.

Re-examined. I have never known our men buy those articles for personal use.

GEOEGE BREWSTER (The Prisoner) I was lately a packer in Messrs. Blumberg's service; I was there about nine years—I have known Phipps about four years—I became acquainted with him by his coming to our firm from his firm—I stole the articles produced, and have pleaded guilty to this charge—I took them to Phipps's residence—I cannot remember what I said—I have taken things before; I first took things soon after our introduction—I helped to carry out some bronzes to Phipps's van—he said, "You have got some very cheap things here, I should imagine"—I said "Yes," and he winked at me and said, "Can I see you by and by?"—then we arranged to meet after the warehouse was closed in the evening at a public-house in Carter Lane—Phipps said, "You have come, then; anything that you can manage I can always do with; you can rely upon me, I shall be perfectly safe"—a week or two after that I took him a drum timepiece, which I sold him for 10s.; its value was about 16s., bat it was not marked—after that I moved to Leytonstone from Clerken well, and lost sight of him for from nine to twelve months—he was driving his van to Broad Street Station, when he stopped me and said, "Where have you been to this long time?" or something to that effect—I told him I had moved down in the country, and did not care to go on—I took him things several times since, but cannot remember now what they were—I left Messrs. Blumberg's once, and have been back nearly two years—about a year and a half ago I took him some property from Blumberg's, and he paid me in the same way—he lived over the water in London Street and in another street which I forget; he had a shop there—I took the things produced to a place at Pentonville; I cannot remember the name, but it is near the baths, at the corner of the reservoir—I cannot remember what he gave me for the other things besides the horns.

Cross-examined. It was in a turning out of the London Road that I took some things—he was in Spiers and Pond's service—I saw him eighteen months ago about the City and at Blackfriars—I remember the street in Pentonville was Amwell Street now you mention it—I went there five or six months from the day he went there—Counsel asked me if I wished to give evidence.

Re-examined. I never stole anything before Phipps asked me.

PHIPPS received a good character.—

GUILTY .— Eighteen Monty Hard Labour.

BREWSTER.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

948. WILLIAM FACER (14), JOHN HARDY (14), and SAMUEL ROBINSON (20) , Stealing nine pairs of earrings, 374 postage labels, and other articles, the property of Sir Benjamin Phillips and others, the masters of William Facer. Second Count, Receiving the same. HARDY and FACER PLEADED GUILTY .

MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and GOODRICH Prosecuted.

ALFRED ALCOCK (Detective Y). On 22nd September, between 9 and 10 a. m., I was with Inspector Dodd outside the Midland Railway Station at Kentish Town watching Robinson—I took him on another charge and said, "What have you got about you?"—he said, "Nothing"—I searched him and found six pairs of brooches and earrings, four silver lockets, eight silver Alberts, three necklets, a purse containing 3l., and a pawn-ticket for 4s. 6d.—I handed the property over to Mr. Dodd—I went to 13, Fortis Grove, Kentish Town, where he lodged, and in a back room in a box I found this cigarette case—I said, "How do you account for the possession of this property?"—he said "I bought them of a man this morning "—that referred to the chains and lockets—I said "What is the man's name and where does he live?"—he said "I do not know"—I said "How much did you give for them?"—he said "Half a sovereign and a shilling for the cigarette case. "

CHARLES DODD (Police Inspector Y). On 22nd September, about 11 a. m., I received this property (produced) from Alcock, in consequence of which I proceeded to Messrs. Faudell and Phillips's, in Newgate Street—I sent for Facer—I told him I was a police-officer, and should charge him with larceny—I searched him, and found on him 374 postage-stamps perforated with the initials of Faudell and Phillips—I subsequently communicated with a number of pawnbrokers, including Mr. Power, of Great College Street, and Mr. Thompson, of Drummond Street, and received from them a quantity of property which has been identified by the prosecutors and given up to them at Guildhall.

ADA SNOWDON . I live at 37, Manchester Street—I was living with Robinson up to six weeks ago at Gospel Oak—I received from him a large quantity of jewellery, which I pawned by his instructions—I gate him the money and the duplicates—I identified the property at Guildhall—I pawned some of these (produced), and some I sent.

GEORGE SHIPTON . I am assistant to Henry James Power, of threat College Street, Camden Town, pawnbroker—I produce a silver necklet, locket, brooch, and earrings pawned for 16s. on 16th July, 1882, in the name of Jane McEwen; two silver bracelets for 4s. on 15th June, in the same name; two silver necklets and lockets for 10s. and 8s. on 17th July in the name of Ann Lawrence; a brooch and earrings for 3s. on 29th July in the name of Holmes; and a silver necklet and locket for 10s. on 8th September, in the name of Ann Lawrence—I could not swear that Snowdon pawned all, nor that they were pawned by the same woman—she pawned some—I asked her if they were her own property—she said she was sent by some one, not that they were hers.

JAMES WHITE . I am assistant to Mr. Crossley, a pawnbroker, of Park

Street, Camden Town—I produce a silver bracelet pledged on 9th May for 4s.; a silver albert on 10th May for 4s.; a pair of silver bracelets for 8s. on 8th September, all in the name of Ada Snowdon—the same person pledged them—we usually ask questions, but I do not recollect the transactions.

WILLIAM HENRY EVANS . I am manager to Messrs. Faudell and Phillips, of Newgate Street—the articles produced are their property—they have never been sold—it is impossible to state when they were stolen, our stock is enormous.

WILLIAM HENRY EVANS . I am the son of the last witness, and a buyer in Messrs. Phillips's employ—I identify the property as my employers'—it is worth 6l.

WILLIAM FACER (The Prisoner). On 22nd September I was an errand boy in the employment of Messrs. Faudell, Phillips, and Co.—on 21st September 1 stole the goods produced—I gave them to Robinson on the 22nd—in May I was wearing my employer's ring, and Robinson said "Give us that ring on your finger"—he said "Give me some more to-morrow, William"—I used to go round as errand-boy to a baker's shop, and he came to know it—I gave him some more rings the next day, and the day after he was going to hit me, and I said "I won't bring you any more rings;" he said "All right, I can serve you out if you don't, I know where you work"—he used to ride about on a mail cart—I brought him some more—I have been giving my employers' goods to Robinson about eight months—he gave me very little for it—it was a bad business transaction.

Cross-examined by Robinson. I never had a silver chain—I once gave you Is. 9d. change—you said this morning. "Say I gave you 80s. or 2l.a week, you won't get more than the other boy, and it might get me off," and I said "I' ll tell the truth, and nothing but the truth"—you gave me sometimes 10s., sometimes more, and sometimes less—I went about with the ring on a Sunday, not in business time—I had never taken things for other people before I did for you—all I took for myself was a knife and a ring.

Robinson's Statement before the Magistrate. "I wish to plead guilty to receiving what was found upon me and the things pawned by Snowdon."

ADA SNOWDON (Re-examined by Robinson). You often told me you had 2l. to give Facer for what you had received—he has asked me for you ones or twice.

Robinson's Defence, I was not the first to put it into his head to take things. I used to give him half whatever he fetched me. If respectable people were here I could prove they had some. What was found on me I pleaded guilty to receiving the next day. I had SO, to give him.

ROBINSON— GUILTY** of receiving. — Five Years' Penal Servitudes HARDY—GUILTY.— A Fortnight's Imprisonment and six strokes with a birch rod. FACER— Six Weeks' Imprisonment and 12 strokes with a birch rod.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, October 19th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Williams.

949. JOHN SAUNDERS (29) PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling-house of George Reynolds, and stealing four rings, a gold watch, and other articles, value 50l.; also to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Arthur Barron, and stealing a jewel case, a gold necklet, a gold watch, and other articles value 50l.

950. JOHN SAUNDERS was also indicted for feloniously wounding Robert Howe, with intent to murder. Other Counts, with intent to resist and prevent his lawful apprehension and to do grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

CLARA EMILY REYNOLDS . I am the wife of George Reynolds, and live at Highfield House, Stamford Hill, Hackney—on 5th September, about a quarter-past 9,1 was in the dining-room—the servants were in the kitchen on the same floor—I heard some noise, and spoke to my nephew, Mr. Munday, who was in the billiard-room—he and his friend, Mr. Hazelden, went out at the front door—I went upstairs with the groom, Robert Howe, to show him the way—when I got half way along the first landing, and about six feet from the bedroom door, I saw the prisoner's face and arm from behind the door—he fired immediately at us—I saw the flash and heard the report—I was five feet from him then; I measured the distance this morning—there was a black mark afterwards on the wall—I at once went into my bedroom, and through another room and down the back staircase—after that I heard five shots tired—a number of articles of jewellery were taken out of the bedroom.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not run past you on the landing when I saw you; you ran past me into the room opposite—that was not before you fired the first shot—I did not see you before you fired.

THOMAS GEORGE MUNDAY . On the night of 5th September, about 9. 15, I was in the billiard-room with Mr. Hazelden when Mrs. Reynolds made a statement to me, and Mr. Hazelden went out of the front door to the back of the house, and saw a ladder against the first-floor back window, which was open—we took the ladder away—it belonged to a neighbour—I saw the prisoner in that room—after we had taken the ladder away he went to one of the other windows and tried to get out, but the drop was too great—I and Mr. Hazelden went into the house the back way—when we heard the first shot fired I saw the prisoner coming downstairs—I was in the hall very close to him—he fired at me with a revolver twice—he held it straight at me—when he fired the first shot he was five or six yards from me, and when the second he was not over three yards—I did not feel anything from them; they missed me—I had a stick, and struck his arm on the stairs, and the stick broke—I laid hold of him with the assistance of Robert Howe—we pulled him to the bottom of the stairs, and then, when we were all together in a heap, I heard a shot fired, and Robert Howe walked away—I got the prisoner into the hall, and called for Mr. Hazelden to assist, and I took the revolver away from the prisoner and struck him with it—I did not know at that time that Howe had been shot—we secured the prisoner in the billiard-room—I did not see the shots fired at Mr. Hazelden—I was a good deal excited—in the garden I heard some one call out "Shoot him! shoot him!"—I

had no weapon except the walking-stick—there was an old musket in the house—I gave the revolver I took from the prisoner to the police.

Cross-examined. The second and third shots were fired at the bottom of the stairs, when we were all in a heap—you clung to the banisters in the middle of the staircase.

EDWARD BERTIE HAZELDEN . I am a friend of the last witness, and was with him on the night of 5th September—I did not hear any shots fired when I was in the garden, not till I came into the house, leaving Mr. Munday in the garden—I then heard the first shot fired, and west upstairs to the first floor and saw the prisoner run across from one room into the other—I saw him fire from one room across towards the wall—Iran after him—lie ran downstairs—I ran through the bedroom—I saw a double-barrelled guu standing against the mantelpiece—it was, unloaded—I caught hold of it and dropped the stick I had—I ran after the man, but fell over a stool, and then I went downstairs after him, and found him struggling with Mr. Munday, and I believe Howe, on the stairs—I called on Mr. Munday to get out of the way, and tried to hit the prisoner with the butt-end of the gun—I hit the bottom of the wall instead, and smashed the gunstock, and then I hit him with the barrel—we all went downstairs together, tumbling over—I ran downstairs after them, and Howe went away then—the prisoner fired distinctly at me when he was on the ground—I ran down the stairs, and they were struggling just at the foot of the stairs in the passage—I was going to hit him again, and to avoid coming on the top of them I jumped over them—the prisoner threw Mr. Munday off with his arm, and rolled over on his back and fired at me once—I believe he took aim at me—that shot went through my coat—there is a shot-hole near the heart—the coat was open, and some of the lining was afterwards sticking out on the outside—I also found a tear on the shoulder of the coat—I cannot tell what that was done by—after that the prisoner jumped up and ran at me—he was wonderfully active—I caught hold of him and threw him into the billiard-room, and then knelt on him and held him—we had a long conversation—he said he would have done for me because I tried to kill him with the gun, that he would have done for the lot of us rather than not get away—I held him till the policeman came, and he was secured—Mr. Munday had taken one pistol from him; the other was found in the hall—I took them both to the station, and handed them to the police—I was under the impression that I heard seven shots.

Cross-examined. You did not say you could have shot the lot, but that you would have shot the lot—I did not mention that at the police-station—you asked me to ease my knee from your chest, as I was hurting you; it did not interfere with your speaking—I did not say at the police-court I fetched the gun from the billiard-room—it was never in the billiard room—I was not near the billiard-room door when I hit you with the gun. ROBERT HOWE. I am a groom in the service of Mr. Reynolds—on the night of 5th September I was in the kitchen about 9.30, and was called and went upstairs with Mrs. Reynolds—I saw the prisoner look out of the door of the bedroom—Mrs. Keynolds was in front of me—the prisoner fired towards me; he was about six feet off, I think—then Mrs. Reynolds went into her bedroom and went away*—I did net see where the prisoner went to—I ran downstairs into the hall—I saw the prisoner coming downstairs, and when he got to the bottom he fired at Mr.

Monday, who was in front of me—I could not say how many times—he pointed the pistol straight at Mr. Munday—I heard the report—wnen he had done that he ran upstairs about half way, when Mr. Munday secured him—I ran after Mr. Munday, and laid hold of the prisoner, too, by the back of the neck—Mr. Munday struck him with a stick, and I struck him with my fist in the face—I did not see anything in his hand, but I knew he had got a revolver—Mr. Hazelden leant over the banisters of the second floor and aimed a blow at him with a gun—the prisoner clung to the banisters—the banisters gave way, and we all fell—I fell on the top of the prisoner, and then I heard the report of another shot—I did not feel I was shot—I got up and undid my coat, and saw that my shirt was drenched in blood—I had been wounded here (pointing to his left breast)—I then went into the kitchen—when the prisoner was brought in afterwards he said "I wish I had done for the lot of you"—I said "It is a good job for you they are shot wounds"—1 thought they were shot, and not bullets—the prisoner did not say anything, he only smiled—a doctor was fetched—for a long while I was unable to leave the house—I was first able to attend at the police-court on 4th October—I am still under the doctor's care—the shot had gone clean through me, and come out at my back.

Cross-examined. When you fired the first shot I was on the top floor, and Mrs. Reynolds was about two paces in front of me—she was not on the other side of you.

SUSAN BALL . I am housemaid at this place—I saw what happened when the first shot was fired—afterwards, when the police had arrived, I was in the kitchen when the prisoner was there—he was searched—he said "I intended to do for the lot."

RICHARD KNIGHT (Policeman N 310). I was called to the house, and saw the prisoner in the billiard-room—Mr. Munday and Mr. Hazelden were holding him—ho was charged with breaking into the house—I searched him, and found diamond rings and other articles of jewellery in bin pocket—at that time Howe was in the kitchen, sitting in a chair, not able to speak—I took the prisoner into the kitchen—he said "I wish these b——revolvers had acted all right, I should have shot half a dozen"—he repeated that statement on the way to the station—I made a note of what he said at the time—Mr. Hazelden had the revolvers, and they were afterwards brought to the station.

HORACE BAKER (Policeman N 629). I came to this house when the injured man was sitting in a chair in the kitchen—the prisoner was in a chair on the opposite side—I had hold of him—when the doctor looked at Howe the prisoner said, pointing to Howe, "I have given him what lie will never get over"—on the way to the station he said "If that b——revolver had acted I would have shot half a dozen of them."

Cross-examined. Howe was lying on the floor when you pointed at him—he was sitting in a chair on the right side when I arrived—I was the second policeman who came—I did not see you in the billiard-room.

Re-examined. Howe was sitting in the chair and the doctor laid him on the floor to examine him.

WILLIAM CHAPMAN (Inspector N). On 5th September I came to the station shortly after the prisoner was brought there—these two revolvers (produced) were brought to the station—they are not toy revolvers—I examined them; one is a six-chambered—that was loaded in three-chambers, and three chambers had discharged.

cartridge-cases in them—the other is a five-chambered revolver; that had cartridge-cases in three chambers, which appeared; have been recently discharged, and there was a cartridge in another chamber and one chamber empty—I. extracted and examined the cartridges; they are ball cartridges—the prisoner refused to give his address at first, but gave it to me the next day, as 20, John Street, Tysoe Street, Clerkenwell—I searched the lodgings and found three boxes of fifty cartridges each to fit the revolver—I also found a case of gunpowder and other articles, and a pawn-ticket relating to another revolver—I examined the prosecutrix's premises—a window had been opened by the forcing back of a catch—I found several bullet marks in the house—one was in the wall about three feet from the floor, and six or seven feet from the head of the stairs—on the top landing there was a bullet mark with the bullet in it—there was another bullet mark in the edge of the front door, about ten inches from the bottom—the door must have been standing open—the next one was in the wall of the hall; and there was another mark which I did not think was a bullet hole at the time, but I afterwards found it was; that was about four or six feet from the ground—in the ceiling above the stairs, where the groom was shot, was a bullet hole—I took up the floor of the landing over it and got the bullet—this. (produced) is it.

WILLIAM PERCY REYNOLDS . I am a physician and surgeon—on the night of 5th September I went to Highfield House about 9.30—I found Robert Howe sitting in a chair in the kitchen—I had him placed on the floor, and I then found he had a bullet wound about two and a half inches below and three-quarters of an inch on the outer side of his left nipple; that was within three-quarters. of an inch of the apex of his heart—the bullet had gone through and come out at his back, between the eleventh and twelfth ribs, and two and three-quarter inches from the spine—I saw a mark in his clothes where it had gone through, and it had also passed through a newspaper and letter—the left lung was wounded—-the bullet in passing through had split the sixth rib, opposite the wound of entrance—he was in a very serious condition—his life was in the greatest peril for some three weeks—the peril was due to a complication which arose from the injury—his heart was pushed over from one side of the body to the other by the pressure of atmospheric air admitted by the wound—he was not able to attend at the police-court till the 4th October—ho is still under my care, but is now out of all danger.

The prisoner, in hit defence, stated that he was very terry fir the event and that he should have been so foolish as to carry a revolver, that hit object teas not to murder any one or to do any one any injury; if he had intended to shoot any one he could have done so, but his only object was to escape, and he purposely fired wide, and that in the struggle at the bottom of the stairs the revolver accidentally went off and caused the wound on Howe.

GUILTY .— Penal Servitude for Life,

951. JOSEPH FELTHAM (41, a blind man) was indicted for and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the manslaughter of Sophia Swallow.

MR. HURRELL Prosecuted.

EMILY LYNE . I am the wife of William Lyne, a French polisher, of

20, John Street, North Street, Marylebone, and am the daughter of the deceased Sophia Swallow—I was shown her body, which I recognised—I heard that she was living with the prisoner—my father is in the workhouse.

EMILY RUSSELL . I live at 138, St. John Street Road—the deceased was my sister—I last saw her on Saturday week, the day of her death—I can't remember the date—she was then quite well, but not quite sober—she was a woman of intemperate habits—I saw her and the prisoner together the evening before in the street—they were on friendly terms then—I did not see him again till the Sunday evening, when he came to tell me of her death—he said they were both the worse for drink on the Saturday evening; that they went home and he got her upstairs and left her on the landing, he could not get her any farther; that he went out for a short time; when he came back he found her in the doorway or passage on the other landing, and nearly fell over her; thinking she was asleep, and being very much the worse for liquor, he went to bed; early in the morning he awoke, and finding her not in bed, he went into the passage and found her still there, as he thought, still asleep, and he dragged her into the room—I asked if he had struck her—he said no; that when he got up between 7 and 8 o'clock he began to think something was wrong, and he called up another person in the house and then found she was dead—I found her lying on the floor dead when I went to the house.

ANN EMMETT . I am the wife of Charles Emmett, a labourer, of 7, Little Bath Street, Clerkenwell—I have lived there five years—the prisoner and deceased lived there about eighteen months—they occupied a back room, first floor—on Saturday, 7th October, between 9 and 9. 80, I met them on the stairs coming up as I was going down—I said "Who's there?"—she said "It's me, Ann, don't be cross"—I said "All right, go in and go to bed"—after that the prisoner came and asked me to assist her upstairs—I said "No," on account of his having accused me of taking 3s. that he lost—I saw him strike her on the stairs three times with this stick (produced) on the back of the head—he held the thin end of it and struck her with the other—after that I saw her outside the door that leads to their room, asleep as I thought; I had seen her worse for drink than she was then—she said "Oh, you old beast, you old brute"—he went out and left her on the landing—I heard nothing after that—the prisoner is quite blind—he was not sober—she was worse than he was—she was going up the stairs on her hands and knees, and he was pushing her up and striking her with the stick.

MARY ANN CLYNES . I live at 7, Little Bath Street, Clerkenwell, and am the wife of Joseph Clynes, a labourer—I saw the deceased on 7th October, at 20 minutes past 9, at the Ben Jonson public-house—she had been drinking, but not a great deal; she was all right in other respects—I saw her again on Sunday morning, when the prisoner came and knocked at my door.

JAMES THORNTON GILBERT . I am a licentiate of the Apothecaries' Company, of 79, Gray's Inn Road—I was sent for on Sunday morning, 8th October, between 9 and 10, to 7, Little Bath Street—I found the deceased lying on the floor quite dead; she was on her left side, her head resting on a pillow—I think she had been dead from four to five hours—she was perfectly

cold; rigor mortis had sent in; her fingers were flexed, the nails slightly discoloured, her face very much congested—blood and froth was oozing from the mouth and nose—there was a mark of a bruise on the upper lip, another on the lower lip—there was a small swelling about the back part of the head, behind the left ear, a recent blow, administered during life—I should say all the bruises and marks were caused before death—I saw a pool of blood in the passage about the size of the palm of my hand—on a post-mortem examination I found a clot of blood under the scalp immediately corresponding to a swelling on the top of the head, and another clot actually pressing on the brain—on examining the brain, which was fairly healthy, I found in both lateral ventricles blood and serum, and a small clot of blood in both—the cause of death was apoplexy, stimulated by the blows on the head, but the apoplexy might have come on without the blows in her condition; she being a great drinker, it might have attacked her at any moment—she was in a highly diseased state all through—I don't think that tumbling about on the stairs would have caused the injuries I saw; in my opinion it must have been direct violence.

WILLIAM HENRY DAY , M. R. C. S., of Chapel Street, Pentonville. I was examined before the Coroner—I saw the body of the deceased at the inquest—I have heard Mr. Gilbert's evidence—in my opinion the cause of death was traumatic apoplexy; that is, apoplexy from violence as distinguished from spontaneous apoplexy—the blows on the head are quite sufficient to account for the rupture of the vessels at the base of the brain.

The prisoner in his defence denied striking the deceased, but suggested that being drunk she must ham fatten, and so received the injuries.

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Six Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Thursday, October 19th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

952. ALFRED MEADOWCROFT (28), GEORGE SEALS (30), JOSEPH BILLINGSLEY (29), and JOHN BUTLER (23) , Stealing eight half-chests of tea, the goods of Joseph Wright Tumley; and JOSIAH JOHN MAYNARD for receiving the same.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY appeared for Seals, and MR. GRAIN for Maynard.

JOHN LOADER . I am a lighterman of 86, Harding Street, St George's-inthe-East—I was in charge of the barge Henrietta, which was lying alongside the barge Adelaide at St. Katherine's Wharf, on Thursday night, August 31—both those barges belonged to Mr. Wright Tumley—a man named Stacey was in charge of the Adelaide, which I helped to load with half-chests of tea—I have seen seven half-chests and one broken half-chest produced by the police those were eight of the half-chests which I loaded on board the Adelaide, and I missed eight at 1 a. m. on 1st September—I saw them safe at 11.30 p. m. on 31st August JAMES STACEY. I am a lighterman of 73, Sutton Street, St. George's-inthe-East—I was in charge of the barge Adelaide on the night of 31st August—the cargo was safe at 11.30 p. m. and at 1 a. m. I missed eight half-chests of tea from the top of the barge—I had been in the cabin—I identify these boxes.

JOHN WATSON . I am a lighterman, of 40, Devonport Street, Commercial Road—on 31st August Mr. Tumley sent me to assist at a little after 1 p. m. on the barque Adelaide at Irongate Wharf—I saw Seals near the Henrietta and the Adelaide—these boxes are my master's property.

THOMAS HENRY KNIFE . I am a waterman, of 23A, Peabody Buildings, Glasshouse Street—on 31st August, about 11.30 p. m., I was waiting to take the captain of a vessel on board my boat, and saw Seals, Billingsley, and Butler, who is known as Terrier, on the Irongate Stairs—I left them there and took the captain on board, and when I returned I saw Seals in the watch box at the top of the steps—when he saw me he walked sharply out of the watch box, and then turned back—that is a shelter for watermen—the other two were not there then.

ALFRED STARKIE (Thames Police Inspector). On 1st September, about 2. 20 a. m., I was on duty on the river, and saw Billingsley in a boat at Irongate Stairs, with a piece of old tarpaulin in the boat—the sculls belonging to the boat were locked, and he had another pair to row with—I asked him whose boat it was—he said "Turner's; I am just going to stow her"—I said "What have you got there, a tarpaulin?"—he said "A piece of old tarpaulin; I don't know who it belongs to"—I rowed away, and he called to Smith, a watchman, to come and put him on shore—I received information of the robbery five minutes afterwards—I went ashore at Irongate Stairs and saw Butler there—I said "What are you doing here?"—he said" I am waiting for Billingsley"—I told him he had better go somewhere else—I came down again to the stairs and saw Billingsley put ashore by Smith—I found this small portion of tea {produced) in the bottom of the boat, and some tea dust which I could not pick up.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. It was an ordinary waterman's boat, which takes all sorts of people across the river—there are some tea ware-houses on the Surrey side, and I have seen a dozen colonial broken' clerks go across with samples, but not late at night—it had been raining all night, but the tea was dry; the leaf had not uncurled.

JOSEPH TURNER . I am a waterman of 14, Union Street, Commercial Road—I have a boat near Irongate Stairs—I did not give Billingsley permission to take it on the night of August 31, but it is a usual thing—we are not particular about using each other's boats.

FREDERICK STIMSON . I am a carman in my father's employ at 26, Back Church Lane—on 1st September, about 2.45 p. m., I was unloading my van, and Butler asked if I could do a job for him—he got into the van, and I drove him to the corner of Ellen Street, where Seals got in—they told me to drive to Wellclose Square—when we got there they fetched Meadowcroft, and they all three went to a stable in the Bide—Seals brought out three sacks and I brought one out—they were full and tied up, and were placed in my van—Butler and I drove away with them,. leaving the others behind—we drove to a coffee roaster's, 18, Gun Lane—the name of Maynard was over the door—Butler rang the bell and asked me to see if Seals was coming—I went to the bottom of the street, but did not see him—when I got back Butler had carried three sacks into Maynard's premises, and I carried the fourth in—they were put on the floor—Maynard was there and said "Now lads, come and nave a drop of beer"—Seals came up at the bottom of Gun Street—I did not see him at Maynard's—we all went into a public-house, where Seals

gave me half-a-crown for the job and some beer—the sacks were similar to those produced; they felt like chaff.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I did not see them untied—there are a good many sacks like these in the east of London.

GEORGE DENMAN . I live at 26, Wellclose Square—on 1st September I saw Simpson coming down the Bide with a horse and van, and I afterwards saw Meadowcroft and Seals—I had the letting of the stable—it was, I think, between 1 and 2 o'clock.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. There are 18 lettings in the stable-yard—I never went into the loft before—there are no gates—the yard is not locked up at night.

WILLIAM BARRY . I live at 5, Cavendish Street, New North Road—I was Maynard's errand boy, and on September 1st I came down and saw Seals there—he said "Call that man down"—I called Sweeney down, and saw him carry four bags, which felt like tea, from the ground floor to the second floor—Maynard is a coffee roaster—he kept one book, and I wrote in it all the coffee that came in and went out; this is it (produced)—he also deals in damaged tea, but that is not entered in this book—I made no entry with regard to these bags, because I was nut told.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I enter the coffee which comes in belonging to people who want it roasted, and what goes out roasted and what goes out raw—Maynard attends salvage sales and buys a good deal of tea damaged by fire and water—he buys sweepings.

GEORGE SWEENEY . I am a coffee roaster in Maynard's employ—on 1st September I was called down into the shop and saw Seals there, and four bags, which I carried upstairs—I opened them three or four days afterwards—they contained tea of some sort—I knew Seals 14 years back, but my master has not done business for him before.

JOSEPH NEWMAN (Police Sergeant H) On Sunday, 3rd September, about 10.30 a. m., I went with Sergeant White to a stable, 13 and 14, The Ride, Wellclose Square, to make inquiries about a lost dog which I found in the loft, and in the same loft were the seven empty tea chests which have been identified—a man named Johnson told me something, and I found Meadowcroft—the gentleman with me spoke to him about his dog, and I said "Never mind about the dog; what about the empty tea-chests found up in your loft?"—he said "I put them there"—I said "Yes, Johnson says you did; where did you get them from?"—he said "I gut them from a pal of mine"—I said "What is his name?"—he said "I-don't know"—I said "Where does he live?"—he said "I don't know "—I said M Where does he work?"—he said "Down by the water-side somewhere"—I said "You had better accompany me and my friend to Wapping Police-station; we shall have to make inquiry about this"—he said on the way there "They were given to me last Monday or Tuesday by a man in a van which stood at the corner of Shorter Street, Wellclose Square"—I took him to Wapping Police-station, and he was detained—I found these three keys on him, one of which opens the stable where the chests were found—I asked him where the dog's collar was—he said" In my jacket pooket, hanging up in the stable; Seals and another man came to me in the King's Arms public-house last Thursday and asked me if I could do a job for them to draw some tea from Tower Hill. I took Johnson's horse out of the stable, put it into Bxall's van, and drove down to Tower Hill. Seal and others brought the

tea up. I earned one chest and put it into the van, and drove it up the Ride. Seals promised to give me 2l. for the job"—the Ride leads to Johnson's stable.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The conversation all occurred on the way to the station—we were in St. George's Street when I said "Never mind about the dog "—I took no note of his answers—I did not entice him into a conversation; I should be ashamed to do that—he did not say a pal at that time; I believe he said Seals—Sergeant Regan was present.

DAVID FRANCIS (Thames Police Sergeant). I took Billingsley on Sunday night, 3rd September, and told him the charge—he was given over to Regan.

JOHN RKGVN (Thames Police Sergeant). I took Billingsley at Wapping Station—he said "I was working for Mr. Davis on board the steamship Baron Osy"—I said "This larceny occurred at night time"—he said "That is all right"—when we were waiting to go before the Magistrate Meadowcroftsaid "Seals and Billingsley came tome at the King's Arm, Neptune Street, St. George's-in-the-East, and asked me if I would move some tea from Irongate Stairs I got a pony and van, and went down to the stairs. Billingsley and Seal brought the tea from a boat, put it into the van, and I brought one up. We then drove to the Ride, Wel close Square, and next day, at 1.30, the tea was taken, four sacks in the van by a carman to Spitalfields, and we walked behind. I was told to wait in a public-house at the corner of Fashion Street. When Seals returned I got 2l. for the job."

Cross-examined by MR. BKSLEY. I act under the directions of the Investigation Department—I am instructed to make notes at times—I heard Newman examined at the police-court, and have heard him examined to-day—I noticed that neither then nor now he mentioned the name of Billingsley, and I told him so—I called his attention to his having left out "brought in a boat," but I did not put the words in—I did not call his attention to his having left out "We drove to the Bide, and the tea was taken in four sacks by a carman next morning,"but I did to his having left. out the words "we walked behind," and to his omitting to state that Seals walked away and came back again.

Re-examined. I have been 10 years in the force—what I have stated is quite true.

GEOROE REED (Thames Police Inspector). Between 12 and 1 o'clock on 3rd September I went to the stable, 12 and 13, The Ride, and showed the chests to the witnesses, and they identified them as stolen from the Adelaide—I took them to Wapping; Station, showed them to Meadowcroft, and said "These chests were in Mr. Johnson's stable; they have been identified as stolen from a barge at Irongate Stairs"—he said "They were given me last Monday or Tuesday by a carman outside the Blakeney's Head public-house, Shorter Street"—I said "You had better be very careful what you are saying, for it may be used against you in evidence"—he said "Well, it was not Monday or Tuesday, it was Friday"—I said "They have been stolen from a barge belonging to Mr. Tumley, full of tea, and I shall charge you with being concerned with others in stealing them"—he was then charged—at 10 o'clock the same evening I saw Seals and Billingsley at Sparrow Corner in charge of other officers—I said I should charge them with a man in custody

with stealing, on September 31 or October 1, eight half chests of tea from the barge Adelaide, the property of Mr. Tumley—Billingsley said (do not know anything about any tea,"and Seals said "I have not been to the waterside for a week"—-on 4th September, when we were waiting to go before the Magistrate, I saw Butler in the waiting-room on mother charge; I said "Is your name Terrier?"—he said "No"—I said "I believe that is your name, or the name you go by, and I shall charge you with being concerned with a man in custody in stealing eight half chests of tea"—he said "Not me; I know nothing about the tea"—he was afterwards identified as Terrier, and placed in the dock with the others—on 12th September Stimpson pointed out Maynard's place to me, a boy opened the door, and I saw Maynard—I said "Are you Mr. Maynard?" he said "Yes"—I said "Are you the proprietor of this place?" he said "Yes"—I said "I am an inspector of police and an officer of excise, and this, pointing to Newman, is a police sergeant; on the first of this month you received four sacks of tea from a man named Seals"—he said "No, I have had no tea"—I said "A carman has pointed out this place to me, and said he delivered four sacks liere on that day"—he said "No, I have not had any"—I then called Stimson in, and said "This is the man who says he delivered the tea heret and that Seals and others were present"—I pointed to Maynard, and said to Stimson "Was this man present and received the tea?"—he said "He was"—I said "Are you surer"—he said "Yes, I am "—I said" Now, Mr. Maynard, have you any tea in the place? as 1 am going to search"—he said "I have"—I said "Let me see it"—he was going towards the upper floor, but said "Hold on, I want to see your authority"—I produced my excise commission and warrant card and Newman produced his—he said "All right," and we went up to the second floor and saw chests of tea, some fall and some half full, and bags of coffee and sacks of tea—I felt the sacks to see if they were full, and said "Is this the tea that was brought in on that day?"—he said "Yes; you are going to make a charge of it, and I shall answer no more questions"—I asked him about four oases of condensed milk that were there—he declined to answer—I then told him the charge—he made no reply, and was taken to the station and charged—he is a coffee roaster.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I was examined before the Magistrate on 4th September, and I read a copy of my deposition last Sunday—I did not warn Maynard before I asked him a question, as I had to see what account he gave before I charged him—I have no note of the conversation—there are only two cells at Wapping Station, and we put two men into one cell—there is a passage outside the cell, and a ventilator over the cell which can be neither opened nor shut-Seals and Billingsley were in one cell, and Meadowcroft in the other, and I instructed Bond if he heard any talk between the prisoners to make a note of it—he was the gaoler, and was there for the purpose of hearing anything that was said—no superior person to me suggested it, it was my own invention—I don't remember doing it before—the regulations are that we are not to cross-examine prisoners, but what they say voluntarily we reduce to writing at the time if convenient—Bond had no desk in the passage; he had a pencil, and the only way he would write was against the wall—he did not say that ho had broken his pencil and wanted pen and ink—I have never seen the paper on which lie made his notes.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I went to Maynard's place to apprehend him if I saw my way clear—I did not know who he was till he was pointed out to me—the carman did not tell me his name, but said he could show me the place—I had no occasion to caution him before I spoke to him nor did I caution the prisoners in the cells that any one would be placed to listen to their conversation—the other constables are not excise officers but I was justified in searching for goods liable to duty, which chests of tea would be—I thought the tea was in the broken boxes, but I believe now that it was in the eight half chests which I considered were intact—I produced samples of the tea—the nine half chests on being disturbed from the original packages would fill nine half chests—I produce samples of the tea stolen from the Adelaide.

SAMUEL BOND (Thames Policeman 86). I received instructions from Inspector Reed at Wapping Station, and stood inside the cell passage, and heard Seal call out to Meadowcroft" Alf, who took you in custody?" lie said "Sergeant Newman"—Seals said "Where?" he said "In St. George's Street"—Seals said "Where did they find the chests?" he said "In the loft"—"Seals said "Why did you not get rid of them?"he said "Because the bloke in the road did not come for them"—two or three minutes after that Billingsley said "That b——f——in Cairo has put us away over this job. Heed has got it straight for us this time. The inspector says it is worth 50l., but I should like to have got half of that for it. What about the 3l. you have at home belonging to the other man? do you think they will find it?" Seals said "They won't know where to find it"—Billingsley said "If we go for trial you will get tea years, and I shall get five. Reed is trying to bring the other six half chests home to us. You say you did not see me that night; I will say the police boat gave me a step ashore "—I made a note of it on this paper (produced)—Cairo is a nickname for the waterman at Irongate Stairs.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. Inspector Reed instructed me to listen to all that might pass between them in the cells—I am the gaoler, and it was my place to be there—he did not give me pen, pencil, or paper—there are ventilators over the door and holes in the grating, and a slide which goes up and down if the prisoners want a drink of water—I did not open the. flap—the prisoners said lots which I could not properly catch, and once or twice Seals told Billingsley not to make such a row—I told Mr. Reed what I had heard about the 3l. and the step ashore—that was not to please him and get a good word from him—I was doing my duty—that was all I told him, but I said that I had got a note of what I heard—he did not tell me to produce it at the police-court, and I did not do so—I got the paper occasionally and wrote it, resting it on the cell passage door; as soon as they said it I popped it down with black lead—I did not begin the paper with ink because the ink was engaged at the time, but the pencil broke, and then I went on with ink, still writing on the cell passage door.

Meadowcroft That conversation is false.

Billingsley. I say it is not true.

ROBERT JOHNSTONE . I am a stevedore, of 110, Leman Street White-chapel—I know Meadowcroft by the name of Alf—I keep a horse and trap at 12 and 13, The Ride, Wellclose Square—Mr. Exall has two or three traps which are kept there by my permission, and Meadowcroft

used to show them to people, for which purpose I gave him the key of the stable—I kept straw upstairs, and there was nothing but straw in the loft when I was there on the Wednesday before the police came, which was on Sunday, 3rd September—I knew of no tea or chests being put there subsequently, and I never authorised Meadowcroft to put them there or to use my horse—my horse was +taken away on the Friday night.

WILLIAM EXALL . I had carts in The Bide, Wellclose Square, and Meadowcroft was to show off any carts which a customer came to buy—I gave him permission to use my van on 18th August, but not on any other occasion.

Billingsley's Defence. On this night I had a fare to the Ocean Witch steamer. When I came back I saw Turner's boat there, and the police challenged me. I told him whose boat I had, and rowed to the stairs. The police came, and said "Where is that boat?" I said "I made her fast at the stairs. "

Butler's Defence. Seals asked me to sift four sacks of chaff for him and get a barrow; I could not get one, so I got a cart'.

Maynard received a good character.

GUILTY. SEALS** and BILLINGSLEY**— Seven Years' Penal Ser situde. MEAD* and BUTLER— Five Years' Penal Servitude. MAYNARD— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

953. CHARLES WILLIAMS, Unlawfully assaulting Frederick Arthur Hyndman, upon which MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

THIRD COURT.—Thursday'October 19th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

954. GEORGE WILLIAM BARDRICK** (24) and CHARLES GOLD (21) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictmeuts for stealing 74l. 10s. 11d. and other moneys and securities the property of Lawrence Desborough and others, their masters, Bardrick having been previously convicted. BARDRICK.— Five Years Penal Servitude. GOLD.— Eighteen Months Hard Labour.

955. THOMAS CLARKE (31) to stealing six knives, six folks. and two pairs of boots of the London and North-Western Railway Company, his masters.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

956. ALBERT DEPOT (32) to two indictments for stealing a bag and other goods the property of the Great Northern Railway Company and another. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

957. ALBERT DEPOT was again indicted for stealing a bag and other goods the property of the Great Western Railway Company.

MR. MASTEEMAN Prosecuted, and the evidence was interpreted to the prisoner. JAMES TOWNSEND OSWALD JOHNBON. On 14th September I was a passenger from Paddington by the 1.45 train to Bath—I had a bag containing a ring, a pin, a gold stopper, a bottle, and some Ryde Pier tickets, also a cloak and strap, and oilier things strapped up—this is my nig and Scotch cap (produced)—the things altogether were worth 73l., but the ring is invaluable because it is an old family one—I put the things down about 1 30 for two minutes, and was going to take them up, but they were gone.

HENRY TOPPLE (Policeman). I took the prisoner at King's Cross Station on 30th September, and found on him a duplicate of a ring and a gold stopper, and another of a travelling shawl, and some tickets to Kyde Pier.

ALBERT CHARLES LOWES . I am assistant to Mr. Smith, a pawnbroker of Edgware Road—I received this shawl on 14th September, about 4 p m., in pledge in the name of Depot—this is the ticket—the man spoke broken English—I asked if the rug belonged to him—he said "Yes"

JOHN ELLIS . I am assistant to Mr. Dobree, pawnbroker, of Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—on 14th September a gold pin and ring were pledged by John Depot, of 20, Persey Street—another assistant might have taken them in, but neither of us recollect the transaction.

Prisoner's Defence. I bought these articles, and pledged them the same afternoon.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

958. SAMUEL JAMES WALLIN (31) , Robbery with violence on Henry John Medlock, and stealing 2s. 6d., a handkerchief, and other articles, his goods.

MR. HURRELL Prosecuted.

HENRY JOHN MEDLOCK . I live at 41, Chancery Street, Edmonton—on 22nd September I missed the 11. 47 p. m. train, and went into a public-house, and had a bottle of lemonade—the prisoner and others were drinking there, and talking about the Egyptian war—I joined in the conversation, and they asked me to drink—I refused—I wanted to leave—the prisoner stood against the door; the others stood by his side—I got out, and had got six or seven yards when I was collared from behind, thrown on my back, and kicked—the prisoner was the first that collared me—they rifled my pockets, and took 2s. 6d. and a tobacco-box from my trousers pocket, and four papers and a knife, they were loose in my pockets, and a handkerchief from my coat pocket—these things belong to me except the tobacco-box—the prisoner made a run at me, and I turned and saw him—I could not say he kicked me—my eye was cut, and I was kicked on the lower part of my body—I cried "Police!" and the prisoner tried to stifle me.

Cross-examiued by the Prisoner. I did not say at the station that you did not have anything to do with me, but that somebody knocked me down coming out of the house—I only spoke to the constable at the station.

THOMAS MCLEAN (Policeman T 248). About 12.45 on 23rd September I was in the police-station, Commercial Street—I heard cries of "Police! from Erie Street, Spitalfields—I ran there, and saw the prisoner on Medlock holding him with both hands; I pulled him off, and asked what was the matter—he said "I have been robbed; I give this man in custody "—I took the prisoner to the station—he said "I had been drinking with the prosecutor in the public-house before it shut up, and after we were turned out he fell, or was knocked down, and I was on the top of him trying to lift him when you came up"—this handkerchief, tobacco-box, and four papers were found in his outside coat pocket—the prosecutor identified them—ho was the worse for liquor.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "There were three or bur men in the house. I got in conversation with the prosecutor. When

we came out at 12.30 the prosecutor fell down, and I was trying to pick him up when I was taken into custody."

GUILTY .— Fifteen Month' Hard Labour.

959. JOHN SINCLAIR (51) , Stealing a watch and other goods of Edward Culver. Second County receiving the same.

MR. JONES LEWIS Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

JOHN DAVIDSON (City Detective 849). About 12 a. m. on Friday, 22nd September, I followed the prisoner down Ludgate Hill to Mr. Avant's, the pawnbroker's, Fleet Street—he remained in the front part of the shop several moments—I went into another compartment, and made some inquiries, in consequence of which I went into the compartment where the prisoner was, and said to him "Good morning, do you know me?"—he said "Yes, good morning"—I said "You have offered in pledge some jewellery, who does it belong to?"—he said "It is mine"—I said "Where did you get it?"—he said "I bought it"—I said "Where?" be said "At different jewellers' shops"—I said "Where are the jewellers shops?"—he said "I do not know"—I said "Cannot you give me any other explanation as to how it came in your possession, or where you bought it?"—he made no reply—while this conversation was going on Mr. Avant handed the prisoner some jewellery, and before the conversation I had taken some jewellery out of the prisoner's hands—I saw in the paper these articles: a lady's gold watch and chain, a sapphire, a diamond ring, a gold signet ring, a gold albert, and a silver pencil case—I said "I shall take you in custody, and shall charge you with having this jewellery in your possession supposed to be stolen"—on the way to the station he said "For God's sake do not do this, you will kill me"—I searched him at the station, and in a purse in his trousers pocket I found an opal and diamond ring, and a three stone diamond ring—I said "I hall charge you with the unlawful possession of those also"—I further found two 50l. and five 5l. Bank of England notes in a back pocket in his trousers—in a note case I found a card case containing printed cards in the name of "C. Percival, dealer in jewellery"—he was wearing a new gold albert chain, a gold watch, and a diamond pin—he gave his name John Sinclair, Spencer Street, somewhere Poplar way—he lives at No. 10, Sandon Road, West Ham, in the name of Percival.

Cross-examined. I found in his house a quantity of jewellery and other things—the value of these produced is 96l. 19s.—I also found a pencil case and a quantity of invoices of Mr. Culver's (produced)—I have been in plain clothes about four years—I frequently appear in Courts of Justice, but I do not think I am well known.

EDWARD CULVER . I am a manufacturing jeweller in the Clerkenwell Road—I know the prisoner as Percival—he has dealt at my shop about four months—I think 9l. was the highest amount—these are my receipts—during the four or five months I have lost jewellery to the value of 300l. Or over—this opal and diamond ring value 40l., and this sapphire and diamond ring value 25l., and this watch and chain belong to me—the two diamonds we worth about 16l., and one ring is valued at 8l. 4s., the other is not marked; the opal and diamond ring is numbered 166, the sapphire is not numbered; the chain is worth 5l., and the watch 10l. or 11l.—it is numbered 45684—1 have not sold any of these articles to the prisoner—I am not positive that I have not sold one of the rings—I have not sold

the opal one—I am positive about the three stone diamond ring—an entry is made of every sale, and the numbers are put down of any watch or article like an opal ring—I have my books.

Cross-examined. The entries are made by my clerk, but I see the book every day—I deal principally with dealers—my customers would vary from 12 to 40—there may be two serving; in the shop at a time—there have been four, as I serve myself sometimes—if the article is only 1s. or even 3d. it is entered—if an omission is made by mistake we find it out by balancing the books, but that only happens once in six months—Mr. Rossiter and my brother are the only persons who serve—I had a son there some months ago, but he has gone to Australia—he has served—I have not served Percival, but 1 have been present when he was served several times—the opal and diamond ring has been in stock four or five years, and has not sold on account of its roughness—I have missed articles before this ring was brought to me—I spoke to my brother about it—I was not aware then of the value, as I had not gone into the matter.

Re-examined. I missed property up to four weeks ago—I saw these rings in my possession five or six weeks ago, since my son went to Australia.

CHARLES ROSSITER . I live at 29, Rheidol Terrace, Islington—I am bookkeeper to the prosecutor—the prisoner has been in the habit of coming into the shop since 10th May till about three weeks ago—I served him as a rule—he took small articles away on approbation, and I gave him receipts—these are our billheads—he always paid for whatever he kept—I did not sell him an opal ring with a diamond, nor allow him to take it away on approbation, nor the lady's watch and chain—when I sell articles I book them in the day-book, take the cash, and book it in the cash-book—I describe them by their names with the price, and sometimes put the numbers if they were had on approbation—I have an approbation-book—1 never booked the articles before me nor sold them—I have searched the books and find no entry of them.

Cross-examined. I am always in the warehouse—there are two assistants including Mr. Culver, sometimes three—I usually make the entries, but the others make an entry when I am busy—in the course of six months we sell three or four diamond rings and some hundreds of commoner rings—chains are our principal trade.

ROBERT SAGAR (Policeman). I searched the prisoner's place, at 10, St. Andrew Street, West Hem, and found a quantity of articles and these invoices.

GUILTY** on the second count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in October, 1870, at Liverpool, in the name of Marco Benedetti.— Twelve Years' Penal Servitude and to pay the cost of the prosecution.

960. JOSEPH WALKER (24) , Stealing 213 yards of mosquito net lance, the goods of the Midland Railway.

MR. BESLEY Prosecuted.

WILLIAM ARKELL . I am foreman to Mr. Hawkins, a railway carrier, of Osnaburgh Street, Regent's Park—the Midland Railway has a depôt at Falkland Square—on 22nd September, about 7.30 p. m., I was standing on the kerb in Falkland Square—my employers' van was near the kerb—the parcel produced at the police-court was near the tailboard—while I was speaking to the gatekeeper the prisoner and another man passed me

-they passed the church railings—the prisoner had a parcel on his shoulder which was safe in my van a few minutes before—he appeared to come from Noble Street—the parcel was picked up in a doorway in Fell Street, about 250 yards from where it was stolen.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you take the parcel—I can swear you are one of the two men that passed me—you had an Ulster on—a man stared me in the face, and while I was looking at him you went along under the rails with the parcel.

GEORGE HIKES . I am a van-guard, employed by Mr. Hawkins—I was with Arkell in Falkland Square, standing about 20 yards from my fin—I heard cries of "Police!" and ran down Silver Street—I saw the prisoner with a parcel in Fell Street—he threw it in a doorway about three yards from where I saw him—he turned round and I and another boy ran after him.

JOHN GREEN . I am a van-guard, employed by Mr. Hawkins—I saw the prisoner with a parcel in Fell Street—I saw the same parcel at the police-court—the wrapper was round it—he chucked it down a doorway and stood still for two or three minutes, then he ran up a narrow turning, but finding he could not get out he darted past us again, gave us five minutes' run, and fell over the kerb—I and my mate clung hold of him and a policeman came up and. held him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you near the van nor pass the van—when taken you had the same coat on as you have now.

WILLIAM HILL . I am a van-guard, employed by Mr. Hawkins, who is agent for the Midland Railway—on 22nd September I was with Arkell in Falkland Square—I heard of a parcel being stolen—I ran down Silver Street and Wood Street and saw the prisoner in Fell Street with a parcel on his shoulder—it was shown to me at the police-court—he dropped it into a doorway—I picked it up and he ran away—two other van-boys ran after him—I took it back to the van—it weighed about 1/2 cwt.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not walk up the street, you ran—you stood a minute.

CHARLES LANCELOT ARTHUR HARRISON . I am book-keeper to Kulp and Sons, lace manufacturers, of Nottingham—on 21st September a parcel was sent by the Midland Railway Company to Messrs. Parkinson, of Bradford, containing 213 yards of mosquito lace—I saw it when packed—the value was 5l., 17s. 2d.—a sample was taken by the officer ARTHUR REUBEN WAKELEY BALDWIN. I am clerk to the Continental Parcels Express Company, 53, Gracechurch Street—on 22nd September the parcel produced at the police-court was by mistake delivered at our place—I forwarded it to Carroll's to go to Bradford—this is the wrapper (produced)—the parcel was weighed by our agent in Nottingham, and weighed 33 lb.

PERCY CARROLL . I am clerk to my father, Mr. Carroll, of Lime Street, a railway agent—a parcel of which this is the wrapper came to him to be sent to Bradford—I delivered it to Harris, the Midland Railway carman—I saw it opened at the police-court—it contained mosquito curtains.

SAMUEL HARRIS . I am a carman to the Midland Railway Company—Mr. Carroll gave me a parcel on 22nd September—I have since seen it at the police-court—I left my van in Falkland Square to go into a yard

three or four minutes—I left the parcel of which this is the cover safe in the tail of my van—when I returned it was gone—Arkell spoke to me directly I came up—the parcel was afterwards returned to me.

FREDERICK Kara (City Policeman 154);. I took the prisoner on 22nd September—I received him in Cripplegate Buildings, at the end of Wood Street, about 7.30 p. m., from two lads—he had been stopped there—I took the parcel back to Falkland Square—I said "You will be charged with stealing this parcel"—he said "It is a mistake, I am not the man"—the lads said that he was—he was taken to the station and afterwards to Guildhall Court—the parcel was brought there and identified—this is the cover, a sample was taken—the Alderman directed me to give up the bulk to the Midland Railway Company—I kept the cover.

Cross-examined. Your were not walking with the two lads, you were detained by them—you had on a brown overcoat.

Prisoner Defence. Two men asked me to carry the parcel to the cabrank for a shilling, and as I waited to ask them whether I was to follow them, the youths cried "Stop thief!" A man crossed the road and fell on me, and as the parcel had been seen in my care, I was given in custody. I walked back to the foreman.

JOHN GREEN (Re-examined). I got hold of the prisoner when he fell—he tried to get away and tore his coat under his arm—I clung to him till a policeman came.

GUILTY .** He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in June, 1875, >at Clerkenweell, in the name of Roger Finnigan.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.

961. DANIEL CARTHY (17) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Freeman, and stealing a cruet-stand and other articles, his goods. Second Count, Receiving the same.

MR. BURNER Prosecuted.

HENRY FREEMAN . I am an oil and colourman, of 5, Richmond Terrace, College Park, Harrow Road—about 11.30 p. m. on 22nd August I and my wife fastened up the doors and shutters, and left all quite safe—about 7.30 a. m, I came down into the kitchen and found the place in great disorder—an entrance had been effected by the kitchen window; the fastening had been worked back by a knife—the window was raised a little—the back door was open—I missed the cruet-stand, teapot, knives, forks, spoons, and the rest of this property produced.

CHARLES EDWARDS . I am a platelayer, of 7, Ridgley Road, Harrow Road—on 23rd August I was on the railway bridge by Kensal Green Railiway Station about 7 a. m.—I saw the prisoner come from the direction of Kensal Green across a plot of land belonging to the railway company and across a field to a hut—he laid down at the side of the hut as though he was shoving something underneath—he was about there an hour—he went on the North-Western main line and went to the pond and had a wash—he went to the North London Railway three or four times and came back to the hut—ho kept looking back—I saw something under his arm which shone in the sun—he got over the rails into the ditch on the main line and remained there a quarter of an hour—he ran after some boys as though he was frightening them, and drove them away—I went to meet him and he ran away—III

the afternoon I went to the hut and found these knives, forks, spoons, glasses, and this old jacket—1 communicated with the police—I looked in the ditch by the side of the main line where I saw the prisoner, and found this cruet-stand, this teapot, and this hit of sack covered over with pieces of grass—on the 24th, about 5.45 a. m., I saw the prisoner again on the opposite side of the station—I said "You are the chap as was here yesterday"—he said "You are mistaken"—I said "I am not, and I shall fetch a police man,"but he escaped across the fields.

THOMAS CLARKE . I am a porter at Kensal Green Railway Station—I was with Edwards on 23rd August—I have heard his evidence and agree with it—I saw the prisoner run across the field.

ROBERT MARKHAM (Detective H). I took the prisoner on another charge on 2nd September—this charge was read over to him—he said "I know nothing about it"—the place of the robbery is between a quarter and half a mile from where the things were found.

Prisoner's Defence. I found the things in a hedge and put them in another hedge. I am innocent of the housebreaking.

GUILTY** on Second Count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in February, 1882.— Two Years* Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Friday, October 20th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Williams.

962. WILLIAM BIGGS (22) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the manslaughter of Henry Jones.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; Mr. KEITH FRITH Defended. ESTHER HOWARD. I am the wife of George Howard, of 9, Cecil Street, St Martin's Lane—the deceased, Henry Jones, was my son-in-law; he was 31 years of age, and was a Venetian blind maker—on a Saturday night, about half-past 9 or 10, he was at the doorway of the house where I live—he had been having a few words with his wife—I spoke to him about it—the prisoner came by at the time—I knew him by serving me with coal—he asked Jones if he would have a drink of beer; Jones said he could not afford it—he then asked him if he would have a baked potato; he had one in his hand; it was said in a kind and friendly way—Jones made no reply, but pushed his hand away—after that Jones said he would have a smoke or a fight for five shillings, and spend the money first—he said it in a jocular way—he tucked up one sleeve, and was in the act of tucking up the other when the prisoner knocked him down, and I believe that was the only blow he had—he struck him in the eye and knocked him backwards, and he fell on the back of his head—he tried to get up again, and was on one knee and one foot when the prisoner knocked him backwards again, and he fell right on the top of his head—he got up again, and the prisoner put his head under his chin and knocked him back again, butted him, and he again fell on the hack of his head, and again a fourth time—he then tried to pull himself up by the prisoner's leg, and the prisoner caught him by the collar and threw him back again—he could not get up then—some persons came up, and I assisted him on the way to the hospital, but he would not go; he bad a

drink of water and was brought back and put to bed—the doctor came on Tuesday, and he died that evening—both the prisoner and deceased were the worse for drink; they were not steady on their logs.

Cross-examined. The prisoner said "Don't quarrel or wrangle; come and have a glass of beer "—I don't think he meant to fight if Jones had not forced him—he was in the act of tucking up his sleeve, with his arm up, when the prisoner struck him—he could have struck the prisoner if he had not anticipated him, but he did not strike him at all.

ELLEN JACKSON . I am the wife of William Jackson, of 8, Cecil Court—I saw Jones having some words with his mother-in-law—the prisoner came up and asked him not to quarrel, but to have some baked potato—Jones pushed it away, and said he did not require it; he would have a smoke or a fight for five shillings, and they would spend the money first—upon that Jones tucked up his sleeves, and the next thing I saw he was on the ground—I did not see any blow struck—I saw Jones fall five times, but the prisoner's back was to me, and being the taller of the two I could not see any blow struck—neither were sober.

Cross-examined. They were steady on their legs—the prisoner spoke very peaceably and kindly to the deceased—I am positive he never meant to quarrel when he first interfered—what he said was in a joking way.

CHARLES STEWART WATKINS . I am a surgeon, of 16, King William Street, Strand—on Tuesday morning, 3rd Oct., I went to 17, Cecil Court, and found the deceased lying on the bed in strong convulsions, and insensible—he had symptoms of compression of the brain—his right eye was quite closed, and very much swollen, and dark from effused blood—it was such an injury as would be inflicted by a severe blow from a man's fist—he died that evening—I made a post-mortem examination on the 5th—I then found an oblique fracture commencing over the left ear, through the temporal bone upwards and downwards to the base. of the skull, three or four inches long—that caused effusion of blood, which was the immediate cause of death—being knocked down backwards, and the head striking the ground, would account for the fracture.

Cross-examined, If he was under the influence of drink it would naturally be suffused with blood, but I don't think in this case that would make any difference; the fracture was of such a character—the large vessels were ruptured.

FREDERICK CHURCH (Police Sergeant), I took the prisoner into ousted on the 5th—he said, "Iam very sorry it happened" NOT GUILTY .

NEW COURT.—Friday, October 20th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

963. ROBERT CRAWFORD was indicted for a libel on Charles Welsh Tennant.

MESSRS. BESLEY and J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended After the opening speeech, a consultation took place, and with the consent of Counsel on both sides the Jury were discharged without giving any verdict.

964. JOHN JOYCE (19), JEANETTE LAURIE (20), RICHARD JOYCE (22), and HENRY DULEY (28) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Victor Richards, and stealing one ring, one watch, and other articles, his property.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. WILME defended Richard Joyce, and MR. KEITH FRITH defended Laurie.

PETER PRESLIS . I am in the service of Victor Richards, of 67, Charlotte Street—on 5th September at 11 p. m. I saw the house shut up. and I left—there were lodgers on the second and third floors—on the morning of the 6th I went upstairs to the two front rooms where my master lives, and missed some clothes, a watch, and a cash-box.

ISABELLA MORGAN . I am Mr. Richards's servant—on 5th September at a quarter to 1 in the day I put his room in order—it is on the first floor—the window was shut, not fastened—the next day I found the window open, the bedclothes stripped off, and the cash-box was gone.

VICTOR RICHARDS. I live at 67, Charlotte Street—I went there on 6th September, and missed my cash-box and other articles—this (produced) is the lid of my cash-box—my safe was also taken; it contained a gold watch and ring, two 20-franc notes, a silver watch, seven ledgers, ten pawnbrokers' duplicates, and other articles, value 31l. 17s.—I have seen the ten pawn-tickets since they were in the cash-box—I have also seen the two 20-frano notes—these 14 books, this handkerchief, and chequebook are mine; they were in a box in my room.

RICHARD SLADDEN (Policeman E 119). On 6th September, at 6. 80 a. m., I saw the prisoner and three men in a cart coming from Charlotte Street—I went down Tottenham Mews, and in three minutes I saw the cart coming in the same direction—the two Joyces are two of the men—it was a brown cart picked out with red, and a bay pony—I followed them—the cart stopped at Union Street, and Richard Joyce got out and spoke to Daley, who was in the road, dressed in a grey suit—the cart drove up Cleveland Street with Joyce and a man not in custody—Richard Joyce walked up Cleveland Street to London Street, and turned to the right—on 10th September I picked Daley out from several others as the man I saw talking to Joyce—on 30th Sept. I saw the two Joyces at the back of Marlborough Street Police-court, and identified them as the men I had seen with the cart—I afterwards went with Sergeant Brown to a stable and identified the pony and the cart, which was cleaner, and had the name of Beck on it in large letters, which was covered up the morning of the robbery, or put on since.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I think there was another man the same height, with a light moustache—the shafts of the cart were the same colour as the cart—I found the cart in Daley's stable.

Cross-examined by MR. WILME. I saw Richard Joyee at Marlborough Street Police-court with others—I don't know where he came from, as the jailer kept me inside till the man was identified.

JOHN BECK . I live at 68, Stebbington Street, Somers Town—Daley's stable is in the same yard as mine—I know him by sight—on 6th Sept. I left my cart in the yard; it was the colour of this book, but the wheels were brown—my name was on it, it is not on it now—I did not authorize him to use it—I don't know him.

EDWARD JAMES (Policeman E). On 6th September, at 5.30, I was on duty in Charlotte Street, and saw a cart with three men in it, and a bay pony—Richard Joyoe is one of the men, I picked him out at the station—they turned into Tottenham Street

Cross-examined by MR. WILME. I did not see Richard Joyce through a window, he was in a yard at the police-court with eight or nine others.

AUGUSTUS DONNINGTON . I am manager to Henry Harrison, pawnbroker, of Clarendon Square—on 6th September John Joyce came and offered a traveling-rug in pawn; it was a good one, and I questioned him about it—he said it belonged to his brother-in-law, a commercial traveller—a constable then came, to whom I handed him over—I had taken his name and address, Little Clarendon Street, and was waiting for his return, and saw him run—the constable ran after him, but I ran after him, and saw him handed over to another constable.

ALFRED NORTH (Policeman Y). Donnington called my attention to John Joyce—when I was in the shop he said the rug was his brother-in-law's, who lived at 23, Carnaby Street, and that his mother lived at 17, Little Clarendon Street—I went there with him, and not finding any brother, I brought him back, and when we got to the pawnbroker's he ran—I followed, and he was caught—I found on him the duplicate of a handkerchief and 11 out-dated pawntickets, which the prosecutor identified, as he also did these two cheque-books, gold and silver watch, pin, ring, two 20-franc notes, a steel chain, two pair of socks, a pair of scales and weights, some false teeth, 30 silver coins, and 19 copper coins.

CHARLES PONTIN (Police Sergeant). On 7th September, from information I received, I went to the second-floor back room at 62, Aldersham Street, Somers Town, and saw Lawrie—I said" Where are those books and cash-box you have got?"—she began crying, and said "Under the bed"—I found these six account-books and a cash-box, which the prosecutor identifies—I said "I shall take you in custody for being concerned with John Joyce in a burglary in Charlotte Street"—she said "They were brought to my house"—I afterwards went to Richard Joyce's, 76, Cleveland Street—he occupied the top floor back room, in which I found eight of the prosecutor's business books, which were given up to him by the Magistrate—these 49 skeleton and other keys were tied up with the books—Richard Joyce first said that he knew nothing about them; he afterwards said "They were left outside my door"—I told him he would be charged with a burglary at 67, Charlotte Street—he said nothing.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. John Joyce desired to make a statement before the Magistrate, but was stopped and ordered out of the dock.

ALFBED BROWN (Police Sergeant). On 10th September I went to 19, Oldenshaw Street, Somers Town, and saw Daley—I said I should take him to Tottenham Court Road Station and place him with others to be identified for being concerned in a burglary at 67, Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—he said "Well, I will go with you"—he was placed with eight others and identified by James—I asked him if he could account for where he was on the 6th September; he said "I think I was in bed"—in reply to the charge he said "I know nothing of it; I can prove where I was "—I found a key on him, which he said was the key of his stable, and I found there two ponies, one of which was a light grey—I have ascertained that Laurie lives as the wife of John Joyce.

Cross-examined by MR. FBITH. None of the stolen property has been traced to Daley, nor any tickets.

Witnesses for Richard Joyce.

ELIZABETH FOX . I live at 76, Cleveland Street—Richard Joyce occupied

my third-floor front with his wife—on 6th September, from 5.30 to 6 p. m., I was busy ironing, and saw a woman come in who I had never seen before; it was Laurie—she came Up to the second floor with a bundle in her arms—she passed my room and went to the third floor—I went upstairs to take some clothes off the line, and told her that Mrs. Joyce was out—she was pushing the door, and trying to open it—I saw a bundle produced at Marlborough Street which was like it, but I did not see the contents—I did not see Mrs. Joyce till she returned at 7 o'clock to put her children to bed.

CAROLINE MORRIS . I live at 22, Peter Street, with Richard Joyce—he is my uncle—on 6th September, between 5.30 and 6 o'clock, I was at home at 21, Little Clarendon Street, and my father brought two men and some things upstairs, but what they were I don't know, or who the men were—John Joyce lives there; he is my father—Richard Joyce was. not one of them—I did not see him there or at all—I have not seen the two men since.

John Joyce Defence I assure you that these men are innocent, and I hope you will have mercy on me, for I am guilty.

DULLY and LAURIE— NOT GUILTY .

JOHN JOYCE— GUILTY —Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

RICHARD JOYCE— GUILTY of receiving.—He received a good character.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Six Months' Hard Labour.

965. MARY ANN HARDING (42) , Unlawfully obtaining 1l. 1s.1l., 11s. 4d., and other sums from Mary Ann Titt and others, by false pretences.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended. MARY ANN TITT.; I am the wife of Frederic Titt, of Edmondson Road, Forest Gate—about the middle of July I called at the prisoner's china shop, 180, Tottenham Court Road, and. asked to look at some china—she showed me some plates and dishes—I ordered a small service, price 10i. 6rf., and wished to see it, but she said it was in the ware-room at the wholesale house—she presented me with the bill, and seemed in a hurry for the money—I paid her, with the understanding that I was to have it the next morning, and gave her my address—she said "We are packing now for the country—it never came—I wrote for my money back, but never got it.

FREDERIC TITT . I am a cabinet maker—in consequence of what my wife told me I went to the prisoner and asked her why the service had not been sent—she said it had been sent the previous evening—I went home, and it had not arrived—I wrote to her, and received this postcard: "7th September. Owing to the foreclosure of a bill of sale, business is suspended for three weeks. All orders on hand will' be amicably arranged. L. Harding and Co., Tottenham Court Road." I went to the shop, and found "Closed for alterations n posted up.

THOMAS HINDON . I live at 25, Dove Buildings, Old Kent Road—on 31st December, 1881, I saw a dinner service marked 1l. 1s. in the prisoner's window—I went in and asked to see it—she said "It is packed, but I will show you what it consists of "—she brought some plates as samples—I told her I would have it, and paid her 1l. 1s.—she wrote a bill, and put paid to it—I never got the service—she said I should receive it that afternoon or Monday morning.

WILLIAM REDDING . I am a butler, of 13, Albert Road, Regent's Park—in July I went to 180, Tottenham Court Road, and took a plate to be matched—I told the prisoner how many pieces I wanted—she said I could have them next morning, made out a bill for 1l. 11s. 6d., and asked me to pay the money down—I said "Send to my place this evening, and I will give it you"—she said she dealt at the Stores, in Queen Victoria Street, and always had to pay ready cash—I gave orders where she was to send the goods, but they did not come—I went three times, and one day I wanted them particularly for a dinner party, but could not get them—I heard people complaining in the shop, and told her I would take proceedings against her at once—I did not get the goods, and I took proceedings at the police-court—I parted with my money because she told me she dealt at the Civil Service Stores, and should have to pay first.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate "I parted with my money because I believed I should get the goods—I did not care where she got them—the mention of the Stores had no influence on my mind"—that is true.

Re-examined. I believed she was carrying on a legitimate business, or I would not have parted with my money.

SAMUEL BARNETT . I am a clerk in the secretary's office of the Civil Service Supply Association, Queen Victoria Street—there is no Mary Ann Harding a ticket-holder or shareholder there, and we supply no others.

Cross-examined. We have other offices at Bedford Street, Strand, and Tavistock Street, Covent Garden—I know nothing about the customers there—our clerks do not know the ticket-holders by sight—I do not. know that other people use the tickets of ticket-holders repeatedly, as I never see the persons who come to buy goods.

FRANCIS JOHN RAWLINGS . I live at West Hill House, St. Leonards-on-Sea—I went to 180, Tottenham Court Road, in April, and saw the prisoner—I produced the cover of a sauce bowl, and asked her if she could match it—she said "Yes, lean supply you with any amount of that service, as I keep a quantity of it in stock "—I told her to write a list of what I wanted, and I wanted them immediately—she said it is usual in country orders to have the "money paid before delivery—I said "If you promise to send them to-morrow I will pay the money"—she said "You may depend upon receiving them by to-morrow evening; I will send them off to-morrow morning without fail—I asked her if she would let me see some of the service; she said that the man in charge of the warehouse had gone out, and it would be difficult for her to find it she made out a bill with the full list of articles on it, charging 6d. for package, and I paid her 1l. 14s.—I never received the service—about three days after, I wrote her a post-card, saying that I was disappointed, but received no reply—I wrote again three or four days after, and received no answer—I then asked a friend to call to ask why the service was not delivered—I went abroad for six months—I then came to London and saw the prisoner—she admitted the order and the payment, and said "I am very sorry; I have been in great trouble; I have been sold up since you were here, but I will send you the service without fail to morrow or next day "—a lady was in the shop complaining that she had not received goods she had ordered—I said "I must have the ware or my money back"—the prisoner said "Certainly; if you can again at 4 o'clock this afternoon you may have the money if you like'—I

called with a friend to receive the money, but she said she had not got it, and would rather execute the order—she said "You may take any other ware if you don't think I can send you that"—I put my hand on a plate, and said "I will take it in this pattern if you can supply me"—she said" I have only that plate; I have none of that pattern in stock"—I called again once or twice, but it was always the same excuse; she was always civil till my last visit, when she turned abruptly on me and said "It is useless your troubling me any more; I have not the ware, and I have no money to return; you may do what you like"—I parted with my money as I believed she was carrying' on a genuine business, and would send me the ware.

Cross-examined. She said to me "Since you were here I have been in great trouble; I have been sold up, and now my husband has returned, and he is responsible for the business. "

MARY FARREN . I am an artist, and paint on china—in July last I went to the prisoner's shop and selected a dessert service from a sample—I asked to see the rest of it—she said it was in the store-room and she could not get it—she produced a receipted bill for 1l. 7s., which I paid her—I never received the goods—I called a great many times, and at last got half of the service, and on September 8, after these proceedings were taken at the police-court, I got the rest of it—I was induced to part with my money as I thought she would send the goods, and I believed she was carrying on a genuine business.

REGINALD GRANT WILSON . I am clerk to a firm of solicitors, in Frederick's Place, Old Jewry—Miss Farren consulted me about this china, and I went the same day to the prisoner's shop, and told her I was a solicitor and had come about Miss Farren's china—she said, "If you are a solicitor you will understand that it is no use trying to get the goods, for there are about 40 executions out against me "—I asked her name—she said, "You will see the name outside the shop"—I asked her name again; she refused to give it, and I went out and brought in a policeman, and asked her name again—she said "Mary Ann Harding"—I saw other people in the shop, some of whom were squabbling with her and had evidently come on the same business—I then got a warrant and went again with a constable—I went in and let him know she was there, but she went through a door at the back of the shop—I asked whether Mrs. Harding was in—a woman said, "No, she has gone out"—I said, "I saw her a quarter of a minute ago "—she said, "She has gone out at the side door leading to the Mews"—the constable went out, but could not see her—he then' went upstairs, and the friend who was with me called my Attention to a trap-door in the shop floor—I lifted it up; the constable went down and brought the prisoner up.

Cross-examined. I am not sure whether she paid the executions were against her, or "us"—I said nothing about the trap-door before the Magistrate as I was not asked.

MARY BRAY . I live at 14, Regent's Park Road—early in March I went to the prisoner's shop, showed her a sample of a dinner service, and asked if she could match it—she said she could, and would send it in a few days—she produced a bill, and stud it was customary to pay for a matching order beforehand—she took off a shilling discount, and I gave her 8s. 9d., but never received the goods—I called several times, with no effect—I parted with my money, believing she was carrying on a genuine business.

Cross-examined. I thought I was going to have the goods, that is why I parted with my money.

ELIZA RILEY . I live at the Royal Oak, Harrow-on-the-Hill, and am the wife of Robert Riley—in July, 1880, I went to the prisoner's shop and ordered some crockery and glass, but only saw; a sample—I paid her 1l. 12s. 8d. as she said she always received the money before sending the goods—I was then living at Derby—I only received 5s. 6d. worth of goods—I never got the rest of my money back—when the case appeared in the papers I went to the shop and asked to see Mrs. Harding—the prisoner said, "What do you want her for?"—I said, "I don't want to expose my business to any one but Mrs. Harding"—she said, "Mrs. Harding is not at home," but I was talking to her all the time—she said, "If you will call between 8 and 9 p. m. Mrs. Harding will be at home," and she went out of the shop—I went out, and returned and asked for her again—they said she was not in—I said,' "I shall not go till I see her "—after waiting an hour I saw her, and told her if she did not refund the money or send the goods I should appear against her at Bow Street—I parted with my money as I thought she was an honest woman.

JOHN O'CALLAGHAN (Police Inspector). For some time past I have received complaints about this shop, and in consequence of a complaint made by the Rev. Mr. Watts, I saw the prisoner on May 2nd—I asked if she was Mrs. Harding—she said "Yes"—I said, "I am an inspector of police; a number of persons have complained from time to time that you have received money in advance and not supplied them, and I am directed to inform you that if it continues, criminal proceedings will be taken against you "—she said, "I have been in very bad circumstances, but it will not occur again "—I said, "I see you have no stock in the place"—she said, "I have been in very indifferent circumstances lately—I still continue to receive complaints.

Cross-examined. I understand she is married, but not living with her husband—I did not look down-the trap-door.

WILLIAM EEEFE (Policeman). I took the prisoner on 26th August on a warrant taken out by Mr. Reardon—I found her down the trap, and brought her up—she said, "A man from 13, Albert Road has been here this afternoon and received his goods and has taken out a warrant against me; he said that the policeman would be here directly, and advised me to run away"—I showed her this post-card (produced); she said it was her writing—at the police-court, September 22nd, she said, "Say I have an order for 2l., I go to the wholesale dealer at Clerkenwell or Paddington and buy goods to the amount of 1l.; I then supply a previous customer, and wait till I get another order to supply the first"—I have been to the house over and over again by the Magistrate's orders in consequence of complaints.

Cross-examined. My visits generally had a satisfactory result—she said that Redding had been there and told her to run away—she said her trouble was through having a bill of sale, in consequence of having a lawsuit, and that she had had a dispute with the Metropolitan District Board—1 heard that there was an execution in the house—I have seen a boy in the shop—she no doubt bought goods from other dealers.

Re-examined. I found no stock on the premises—complaints have been going on for two or three years.

MR. BURNIE submitted that there was no fake pretence of carrying on business, because it was proved that business was done, as in one case the prisoner supplied the whole of the goods, and that there was no evidence negativing her statement that she was in a position to supply the goods. The COURT considered that the case must go to the Jury.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY.— Recommended to mercy by the Jury.—Judgment respited.

966. WALTER CURTIS (45) , Breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Pocock, and stealing 97l. 10s. his money.

MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended.

TIMOTHY POCOCK . I am an oyster salesman, of 117, Lower Thames Street—my office is on the ground-floor; the first-floor is occupied by Mr. Plowman, but I have a sleeping-room there; Mr. White occupies the two top floors—on 15th July I put a bag with 97l. 10s. in gold in a drawer in my bedroom on the second-floor, locked the drawer, fastened the door with a hasp, and came into my office; it was then 9.15—have known the prisoner 12 months; he has come to receive money many times, and I nave taken the bag out of that drawer in his presence—he had not been there for two months, but on 15th July at 9.15 he spoke to me and wanted to sell me some barrels; he left and said he would see if Mr. Plowman wanted any—my desk is at a corner of the stairs, so any one passing up must pass it—I was at my desk from 9 o'clock till a quarter to 11—three of Plowman's men went upstairs besides the prisoner—at 10.30 or 10.45 I saw the prisoner come downstairs; he did not speak to me, but went out—I went to my bedroom at o'clock, and found the door forced, and the drawer in which I had put the money, an inch and a half open, and the bag of money gone—there are four drawers in the chest, but the only one opened was the one containing the money—the name "Pocock is on my door in 2-inch letters 18 inches deep.

Cross-examined. There are three floors—Mr. Plowman and Mr. Cresswell do business in the building—Plowman's office is below, and Cresswell's is on the ground floor—I have seen Plowman's men going between there and Billingsgate Market—I do not know whether the men who went up are here—I have two sons in the shop; one sleeps with me in the room in which the money was, when he is in London—he is not here—the money was for Saturday's payments—several others besides the prisoner have seen me take money from that drawer—I saw no one else go upstairs; I saw no one come down—I did not speak to my son when he came in, and I did not hear the prisoner speak to him.

Re-examined. My desk is a foot from the partition—it is not possible for any one to go up the staircase without my seeing them—I swear I saw the prisoner go up and come down, and a quarter of an hour after I missed my money.

WILLIAM HENRY WHITE . I am an. orange porter, of 117, Thames Street—I occupy the fourth and fifth floors—on Saturday, 15th July, at 9. 20, I saw the prisoner at the foot of the stairs, on the mat against Pocock's bedroom—he said "Halloa, Bill, which is Pocock's office; no, I mean Plowman's?"—I said "That is on the first floor; come and I will show you"—I tried Plowman's office and it was locked—I said "They don't come till

10 o'clock; there are two more offices, but there is no one there"—I left him at Plowman's door at 9.25 am.

TIMOTHY POCOCK . I am the prosecutor's son—on 15 the July, at 10.30 or 11 o'clock, I was on a tub in the shop, and the prisoner came to me and said "I have been to Plowman's to see if he wants any barrels, but he will only give four bob a dozen; I have a commission to sell 12 dozen"—he looked flurried, as if he was in a hurry.

Cross-examined. He spoke to me first—those were the only words; it did not take above a minute.

JEFFREY STEPHENSON . I am book-keeper to Mr. Plowman—on 15th July, at 10.45 a. m., the prisoner came in and asked if I was a buyer of barrels—I said "Yes," and asked the. price—he said "Ten bob a dozen"—I said "Our price is 4s."—he came abruptly and excited, and only stopped half a minute.

Cross-examined. Mr. Plowman said I had better go to the police-court, and I went, but was not called for the prosecution—on the trial here, when the Jury could not agree, I was called at your request—this did not happen at the height of business at Billingsgate—people don't come from the market in haste to see Mr. Plowman—he does not see one a day—I did not ask for 4l. from the prisoner's friends for coming here—I asked for my expenses from Liverpool.

Re-examined. I was called last time as a witness, but the prisoner subpoenaed me—I gave the same evidence.

WILLIAM HARDING (City Detective)., On 18th July I saw the prisoner detained at Seething Lane Station—I told him I had a warrant against him and read it to him—he said "I am not guilty"—I found a halfpenny on him—going to the Court he said "I suppose if the money is not found, and I am not convicted, I shall be able to have a slap at the old man,"

Witnesses for the Defence.

JOHN CHARLES PRATT . I am a shell-fishmonger—on 15th July I saw the prisoner in Thames Street, a few doors from Mr. Pocock's place, between 10 o'clock and 10. 15.

Cross-examined. I was not subpoenaed to give evidence at the last trial—Mr. Brown, whom I met in Thames Street talking to the prisoner, spoke to me a week after—he said "Do you know Fred, who we were speaking to in Thames Street, is taken up for stealing money from Pocock 1 Do you know we were speaking to him on Saturday?"—I said "Yes"—he asked me what time we got there—I said "It was striking 10 o'clock as I went down Fish Street Hill"—I did not go to the police-court, as I did not know anything about it, and I did not know that the time was material—I did not attend the last trial, as I did not think my evidence material—the prisoner's brother asked me to come here—Brown is an oyster merchant—he comes round in a van and calls at my place daily.

Re-examined. I am certain of the date—my attention was called to it within a week.

By the COURT. It was not a week after 15th July that I saw Brown with the pony in Thames Street; it was on the 15th, and I was told a week after, that the prisoner had got into trouble for stealing Pocock's money—the time the supposed robbery took place was not named—Brown asked me if I remembered the Saturday I met them together in Thames Street—I said "Yes," and after that he said "Do you remember what time you saw him

in Thames Street?"—there was no more conversation—I know I have come here to prove an alibi, but I did not go before the Magistrate because Brown told me he had been subpoenaed, but if he went he should lose all his afternoon—the prisoner's brother asked me if I would mind coming to-day and speaking for his brother, as I saw him in Thames Street with Brown—I have not seen Brown here to-day.

ROBERT BRACKENBURY . I am a painter——I was working at Sunbury with the prisoner at 6d. an hour, and started on a fresh job at Mr. Grain's house at Feltham—the prisoner came to Feltham on the Monday to work again—I was subpoenaed here on the last occasion, and have lost my situation through it—the job was not ready at 2 o'clock when the prisoner came down, and in the evening we went. out, and on the Tuesday he had no money, and went to work in a hayfield to earn a shilling or two, and he came to me and I lent him 6£, or something like it, to buy some bread and cheese, and on the Wednesday I lent him 6d. again to buy bread and cheese——hewas coming to work next morning.

NOT GUILTY .

THIRD COURT.—Friday, October 20th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

967. ROBERT CLARK (15) and RUTH FIDLEE (62) , Stealing five thimbles, 23 scarf pins, and 4 large quantity of other goods, the property of Sir Benjamin Phillips and Company, the employers of the said (dark. CLARK PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. F. H. LEWIS Prosecuted; MESSRS. M. -WILLIAMS and FULTON Defended.

CHARLES DOD (Police Inspector). From information I received I went on the 26th September to 9, Robert Street, Oxford Street—the room was occupied by the boy Clark and Mr. and Mrs. Fidler—on entering the room Clark said to Mrs. Fidler "Oh mother, mother, these things that I brought home I have stolen!"—Clark had been taken up to the top room by Sergeant Alcock, and I fetched Mrs. Fidler from her daughter's—she said to Clark "I thought you told me a sailor had given you some of these things "—the room was then searched—the boy assisted me—in the drawers and in various parts of the room the following property was found. (A list was handed. in, and the property was produced.) In a vase on the mantelshelf in the room I found these two pawntickets of 31st July, 1882; one for a brooch and earrings in case, 3s., in the name of Ann Green, 28, Lisson Street, at Thomas Richardson's, and the other for a pair of opera glasses in case, 6s., Ann Green, 9, North Street, at Amhurst's, 74, East Street, Manchester Square—on reading that to the female prisoner she said "Those things are mine, and have nothing whatever to do with the case "—when this jewel case was produced out of the middle drawer she said "Bobby, Bobby, however could you do this? you know I have given you money to buy these things, and you have had the invoices"—the boy replied "Mother, I have only had three invoices, and they were for the brackets"—these are some of the brackets found in the room—I took the prisoners into custody—I went again the next day, and searched the room with Sergeant Alcock, when I found these jewels (produced)—I had taken charge of the key during the night—this

list comprises property found at Mrs. Temple's; that is on a separate sheet.

Cross-examined. The second sheet refers to the property which was found in another place altogether—they have no relation to Mrs. Fidler—the property found at Mrs. Fidler's was in the drawers—the boy threw the property so hurriedly on the table that I could not tell which was in certain drawers, but I can tell you where the jewel case was found—the keys were on him when he was taken—I did not try to see if they fitted the drawers—these vases were on the mantelshelf, and also these little ash trays—I could see them as I entered the room—this bag was hanging on a nail—the maker's name was not on it, I believe—this other bag was on the floor by the fireplace—there were other articles of jewellery in the bag—it was shut, but not locked—this music case was banging up over the boy's bed—this pair of opera glasses was exposed to view hanging up over the chest of drawers—this purse and cigar case were in the middle drawer—the other officer was waiting outside the room when I arrived—I saw the female prisoner at the residence of her daughter's, 11A, Queen Street, which is about 100 yards from her house—I said "Mrs. Fidler, your boy has been stealing some things from Messrs. Phillips and Company"—she said "Oh dear, I know nothing about this!"—I then went with her—I have not a note of what passed—I made a mental note of it—the boy started opening the drawers, and pulled the things out—I found these brackets the next day when I went to the room with a member of the firm.

ALFRED ALCOCK (Police Sergeant). Mrs. Fidler is the wife of an omnibus driver, and is not a dealer in these articles.

Cross-examined. I have made it my business to inquire into her character and history—her husband is an omnibus driver of the London General Omnibus Company, and he lives at home with her—he appears to be a highly respectable character—she has daughters, but I believe they are married—there is no one else at home—Clark is 14 or 15—I think Mrs. Fidler does not work independently for her living—they have only one room—I have heard she goes backwards and forwards to her married daughter, Mrs. Temple—her husband leaves home at 8 o'clock in the morning and does not return till 1.30 the next morning—anybody could see these little brackets and pots about the room—I did not try the keys—it was a sleeping and living room at the top of the house.

HERBERT STURGEON . I am assistant to Mr. Amhurst, pawnbroker, of 74, East Street, Manchester Square—I produce the opera glasses pledged on the 31st July last for 6s. in the name of Green—the address given is 9, North Street—I cannot say whether they are new—I do not know the woman who pledged them—we take in new articles—I did not make any inquiries.

ARTHUR DODD . I am assistant to Mr. Richardson, of John Street, Edg ware Road, pawnbroker—I produce a pair of earrings and brooch pledged in the name of Green on 31st July last for 3s.—the woman who pledged them gave the address of 28, Lisson Stret—I asked if the property was hers, and she said "Yes."

Cross-examined. I do not identify the party who brought them. By the JURY. The value of the things I took in pledge would be about 488. per dozen to buy—this is very cheap jewellery. WILLIAM HENRY EVANS. I am in the service of Sir Benjamin Phillips

and Co.—I have examined the property in the list found at Mrs. Fidler's—it belongs to my employers—I have found some property at Mrs. Temple's—the value of the property found at Mrs. Fidler's was a little over 27l. it our wholesale price—the wholesale price of the opera glasses would be about 15s., and 54s. a dozen for the brooch and earrings together—I estimate this bag at 14s. or 15s. wholesale, and the other bag about 7s. or 8s.—these vases are hard enamel on metal, and our wholesale price is 8s. a pair—we are wholesale dealers; our trade is confined to shopkeepers and shippers—Clark has been in our service 1 year and 9 months, his salary when he left was 7s. a week—he had access to all the goods—he was taken at a progressive salary advancing every year—I identify this wooden bracket by its having our mark—they are like hundreds of other brackets sold in London—they are of very small value—the chief value lies with the silver and leather goods found—the brackets would be worth 4s. per dozen—even the wife of an omnibus driver in regular employment might be expected to have such things—there is an enormous quantity of Japanese articles sold over the metropolis—I have not observed any mark on the vases, and we have no mark for them—the value of this bag is 8s. wholesale—our bags are not dear—this is a brief bag—our price for that would be on account of the quality—we guarantee nothing—a cowhide bag and a leather bag would never be confounded, and they would hardly be mistaken by the eye of the general public; it depends to a great extent on the degree of intelligence of the person buying—this music-case would be worth 2s.; I do not think it has been used—goods do not improve in appearance when they are carried about in a parcel like this—the wholesale price of this Gladstone bag is 15s.—our bags are not dear—there is no mark on that to show the outside public what it is; that would be put on by the retail dealer—these little looking-glasses and brackets are all cheap things—most of these are marked with our private mark—these are a guinea a dozen, and all the rest are cheap ones—the value of the property hidden away in the drawers would be about 20l. or 22l.

Witness for the Defence.

ROBERT CLARK (The Prisoner). I am nephew to Mrs. Fidler—she and her husband have brought me up, as I lost my parents when I was very young—I have pleaded guilty to this charge—the articles found in the drawers, valued at about 23l., I brought home from my master's shop when I left work—I call Mrs. Fidler "mother"—she used to be at my aunt's, helping her; I call her "sister"—she would return from there about 8 or 9 o'clock—Mr. Fidler returns from work between 1 and 2 am.—I used to leave my employ at 6 o'clock, and three months in the year at 10 and 11 o'clock—I used to get in with a key which was left in the cupboard, which was on the left-hand side going in—when I came home at night I put the articles in the drawers unknown to my mother—the bottom of the drawers bad paper in them, and I lifted the paper up and put the goods underneath, and the clothing, or whatever it was, would be put on the top of the paper—a lot of the jewellery was found in the middle drawer, which was mine—that is where I put it—the jewellery was locked in this box, and the leather goods were in a cardboard box, with my ties and collars on the top of them—in the top drawer was found a small musical album—I told my Mother I had bought it cheap as it was broken—I fastened a bit of thread

to it so that it would play—she knew nothing about the jewellery and other articles—when I had brought the brackets and looking-glasses home that were found on the wall I told her I bought them cheap, and she gave me the money to pay for them, also the little vases—I spent the money in waste—it would be 1s. or 2s. at a time perhaps—I would bring home two brackets and say I had given 1s. for them, and she would give it to me, and they would be stuck up on the wall—they were there when the police came, and also the little pots—I stole the music-case from my masters, and had it some time—I was in a nigger troupe at the time—I used to sing at St Paul's Cathedral at the Gregorian Festivals—this little bag I told her I had got cheap for taking my dinner to work—that was exposed to view when the police came, and another leather bag—I told her I had bought that cheap—on other occasions I would bring a little lot of goods and take them to my sister's with an invoice, and say I had bought them cheap—I forged the invoice myself.

Cross-examined. I have not stolen any more jewellery than that produced and at my sister's, Mrs. Temple's—I cannot say how many thefts I have committed—when I wanted anything I took it—I did not steal those things in the case—I stole the jewel-case from the department where I was working about three months ago—I had been stealing the jewellery for about 12 months—I locked it up in a box and put the key in my pocket—I was not collecting the jewellery for any particular reason—I should be very sorry to see my mother punished—I used to clean out the drawers myself—my mother would put the linen in—I do not think any of those silver things could be seen—I would spend my money in going to music halls—I was receiving 7s. a week—I gave my mother all the money, and she would give me 1s. a day for food in the City—I had nothing to buy anything with—she knew where I was employed—I went after the situation myself—I may have taken my mother one or two invoices for the brackets—I gave her a pair of earrings—I stole the opera glasses about six months ago, and I told mother I had won them in a raffle—I stole the second silver article about three months ago—I stole the silver brooch and earrings the same time, and the opera glasses in the same department—I found a strange woman, and she pawned them for mo—I know the tickets were found in mother's room, and that she said they were her own property—she will answer for that Re-examined. The pawn tickets were found in my pocket—I had been to school up to the time I went to Messrs. Phillips's.

RUTH FIDLER received a good character.— NOT GUILTY . CLARK— Two Months' Hard Labour and twelve strokes with the birch rod,

FOURTH COURT.—Friday, October 20th, 1882.

Before Robert Malcolm. Kerr, Esq

968. EDWARD SEAMEY (40) , Feloniously wounding David Bratley, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. J. W. RAYMOND Prosecuted; MR. CLUER Defended. DAVID BRATLEY. I am a ticket-collector of the Metropolitan Railway, and live at 131, Warrington Gardens, Westbourne Park—I was going

home on 20th September, about 1.50 a. m.—I stopped at a coffee-stall and called for a cup of coffee, when the prisoner, without provocation, took a knife or sharp instrument out of his pocket and struck me in the face with it and ran away—I ran after him—I was followed by Wilkins to the top of St. Ervans Road—the prisoner was stopped by a constable—I gave him into custody—I had not seen him before he struck me—I saw him strike the blow—another man was betwixt us.

Cross-examined. I did not say at the police-court "I followed him and caught him "—I followed him but did not catch him—about nine or ten persons were at the coffee-stall—when I came up I noticed the prisoner was standing there—I did not move him out of the way, nor tell him to get out of the way; I never spoke to him—some people were talking, out I do not know what about—I had an umbrella, it was raining—I did not shut the umbrella and strike the prisoner with it—Newill, one of my mates, came with me from duty—he did not strike the prisoner—I did not see any one strike him—he had not a black eye that I saw.

Re-examined. Everything was quiet and there was no quarrel till the blow was struck—I was sober.

CARR HOLSTOCK ROBERTS . I am a surgeon and live at 4, Cambridge Terrace, Kensal Road—I was called to the police-station on 20th September, at 2.45 a. m.—I saw the prosecutor—he was bleeding very much from the face from a superficial cut, about three inches in length, extending across the face from the nose, and slightly through the ear—I dressed the wound, it did not require stitching—it was not dangerous—the prisoner was agitated and had a black eye—my impression was he was recovering from the effects of drink—I judged especially from a particularly nasty smell of his breath—he did not appear faint—the wound would be done with a sharp instrument.

Cross-examined. It would not be caused by a large ring on the finger, the end of a sharp clay pipe might have caused it—whatever caused the wound appeared to have glanced off upwards and to have gone slightly from the ear—it was the upward tearing direction of the wound that caused so much bleeding; it had more torn the skin than cut through it.

Re-examined. I saw a small penknife taken from the prisoner's pocket—it was clean—I do not think the wound would have been more jagged if caused by a clay pipe.

WILLIAM NEWILL . I am a clerk, and live at 51, Warrington Road, Westbourne Park—on Wednesday morning, 20th September, I was going home with the prosecutor—we stopped at a coffee-stall about 2 a. m.—I had a cup of coffee—whilst drinking it I saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor on the cheek with his right hand—about four were at the coffee-stall, we were almost touching—I had not heard the prosecutor speak to the prisoner—I was on the prosecutor's and the prisoner's left—the prisoner was on the right of the prosecutor—he ran towards the foot-bridge—I picked up the prosecutor's hat and umbrella and handed it over to the stall—I followed the. prisoner up St. Ervans Road—I saw him captured—I did not lose sight of him; I saw him running back; it was all in a moment—the prosecutor was sober.

Cross-examined. It was raining fast—the umbrella was closed when I picked it up—there was no quarrel—the prosecutor did not push the prisoner out of the way—I went to the station with the prisoner—I did not hear the prosecutor say in the prisoner's hearing be merely meant

to lock him up for the night, nor "We will only take him to the station. "

ALFRED WILKINS . I am a ticket collector at the Latimer Road Station of the Great Western Railway—on Wednesday, 20th September, about 2 a. m., I had a cup of coffee at the stall in the Ackland Road—the prosecutor and Newill came up together and another one came up—they called for three cups of coffee, drank it, and moved to allow another party to come up—as soon as they moved I heard somebody say "He is stabbed"—I saw the blood running down the prosecutor's face, and the prisoner running away—I went after him and stopped him at the bottom of the St. Ervans Road, when he aimed at me with something in his fist—the others came up and he commenced shouting" Police!"—the prosecutor gave him in charge—I got in front of him.

Cross-examined. I was at the stall about twenty-five minutes—about nine or ten people were there—there was room for four people in front—the prosecutor did not ask the prisoner to get out of the way, nor push him—the prisoner was in the middle of the stall, and the prosecutor and his friend and the witness by the side—the prosecutor was on the right of the stall and the prisoner on his left, but not touching him—there was about half a yard between them—the prosecutor ran after the prisoner—I did not see that the prisoner had a black eye, nor hear any quarrel, nor any persons assault him.

Re-examined. If there had been a quarrel I should have heard it—I should have seen if the prosecutor had pushed the prisoner out of the way—one person was the prosecutor's friend because they were going home together—the other I did not know—there was not much light at the stall—the prisoner had a hat on.

WILLIAM MORRIS . I reside at 10, Adair Street, Westbourne Park—I keep a fish-stall—I was at the coffee-stall at the corner of Ackland Road on 20th September, about 2 a. m.—I saw the prisoner come round the right-hand corner of the stall, behind the back of the prosecutor, take his hand out of his trousers pocket, and strike him with his right hand on his left cheek—he ran away towards the bridge—I heard the prosecutor say "I am stabbed"—we all that were at the stall went in pursuit—we overtook him at the foot of the bridge, and he turned round and caught hold of a young man, hit him with his right hand, then struck him twice with the left hand, cutting the side of his jaws in two places, he than ran up St. Ervans Road—we caught him at the top of St. Ervans Road, in the Golborne Road—he shouted "Police!" a constable came up, and he pretended to be fainting—the constable said "Hold up, what is the matter with you?"—he said he was very bad and should like some brandy—then we told the constable what he had done and brought him down St. Ervans Road towards the coffee-stall—we went to the station and waited for the doctor—I heard no quarrel.

Cross-examined. The prosecutor, when he was struck, was standing on the left-hand corner of the stall, in front of another man—he did not move back till he had been struck—I did not hear any one say "He is stabbed. "

By the JURY. It was raining—Wilkins had his umbrella up, the prosecutor had his down.

Re-examined. Six or seven people were standing in a row at the stall,—it was covered in.

HENRY JACKSON . I am a butcher, of 37, St. Ervans Road, Westbourne Park—on 20th September I went to a coffee stall at the corner of the Ackland Road, about 1.30 a. m.—the prosecutor came up with another man about 1.40—I noticed the prisoner there when I first came—he was on the right-hand side—I was about 5 yards from him—he was very excitable, and talking to a man in a high hat about the war—one of his eyes was swollen—the prosecutor and his friend called for coffee and drank part of it—all at once the prisoner took his hand from his pocket and hit the prosecutor on the left cheek and ran away—the prosecutor went in pursuit—nothing had been said by the prosecutor to the prisoner, or vice versa—I had been at the stall a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—I went to assist the prosecutor—I ran after the prisoner—while running after him he struck me—when I was there no one had quarrelled with the prisoner—I saw him captured.

Cross-examined. A witness attempted to catch the prisoner, but he struck at him, and they kept him there till a policeman came up—the prisoner was on the right, the prosecutor on the left-hand side, not a yard from the stall.

WILLIAM CURCEY (Policeman X 184). Some one called "Police!" on the morning of 20th September, about 1.45 a. m.—I went in the direction the sound came from—I saw the prisoner—people were round him—this was in the Golborne Road—the prisoner appeared very excited, and was calling out "Police!"—I said "What is the matter?"—he said" They will kill me, they are all down upon me "—I was informed an assault had been committed, and I took the prisoner towards Ackland Road, where I met the prosecutor, who said he had been stabbed—I told the prisoner he would be charged with an assault—he said" I did it in self defence—I took him to the station—after the charge was taken I searched him, and found the small knife produced—he did not faint in my arms—he walked to the station without assistance.

Cross-examined. I did not see any stain on the knife.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I reserve my defence. "

NOT GUILTY .

969. SARAH BRYANT (26) and ELIZABETH BLACK (32) , Bob bery with violence on Alfred Bell, and stealing 18s. 6d., his money.

MR. WAITE Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN was instructed by the Court to defend the Prisoners.

ALFRED BELL . I live at 2, Kingsgate Street, Holborn—on Saturday night, 30th October, I was drinking alone in the Three Compasses, High Holborn—the prisoners tried to force their conversation on me—a man came in and spoke to Black, and she went out with him—as I was going out Bryant caught hold of my arm and said "You had better come with me," which I declined, and went over towards the coal-yards for a purpurse, Bryant following me—when I got to the darkest part in the coal yards I received a blow from a man in my eye, which blackened it, and he cut my face—this was followed by other blows which felled me to the ground—the man and Black then fell on me and held me down—Bryant put her hand in my right-hand trousers pocket and took out 18s. 6d.—she gave me a blow on the lip, which cut my mouth and loosened one of my teeth—the three made off—I gave information to the police—I next saw Bryant on the Monday evening, in Broad Street, followed her to Holborn, and gave her in charge—I saw Black on the Tuesday evening

and gave her in charge—I am certain the prisoners are the persons, I had every opportunity of seeing them in the house.

Cross-examined. I am a coachbuilder's labourer—I work for Messrs. Cass, in Long Acre, and received 24s. a week—No. 2, Kingsgate Street, is about 200 yards from the Three Compasses—I was paid at 1 o'clock—I had 18s. 6d. and a few halfpence when I went in the public-house—I had been to Bethnal Green to see a friend—I spent some of my wages—I had half-a-crown at home—I paid away 2s. 8d., 4d. each way for the bus—I had three glasses of sixpenny ale and half of old six, in the public-house when I came back—I shook Bryant off—I was a stranger to the prisoners—I am married.

Re-examined. I saw Bryant when I was on the ground, but not Black.

ALBERT GREGORY (Policeman E). On 2nd October the prosecutor pointed out Bryant to me—I took her in charge—she said, "1 saw them knocking the gentleman about, but I took no part in it"—on October 3rd the prosecutor pointed out Black to me, and I took her in charge—she said, "I know nothing about it; lean prove I was in a coffee-house in the Euston Road at the time."

Cross-examined. I followed Bryant about 200 yards before I arrested her—she was in the neighbourhood of the robbery—I passed her a little ahead of the prosecutor—she did not attempt to run away—I believe Black knew me.

NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Saturday, October 21st, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

970. NATHAN MAURICE (52) was charged on four indictments with embezzling various sums received on account of John Hilling Barnard and others, his employers.

MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY . (See Old Court, Monday.)

For other cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.

NEW COURT.—Saturday, October 21st, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

971. DIBDIN CULVER (35) , Unlawfully obtaining 5l. from Annie Stewart, with intent to defraud. (See p. 311.)

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

ANNIE STEWART . I live at 1, Prince's Square, Bayswater—in April I saw an advertisement in the Times, " Wanted young ladies of prepossessing appearance, for the stage. Apply at 13, Berners Street"—I went there, and saw Mr. Jacobs—while I was talking to him, the prisoner came in, but did not say anything, as he had some one in the next room—I went again next day, and paid Jacobs 5s.—he said, "Have you been on the stage before?"—I said, "No"—he said, "You will have to take lessons "—I said, "What are your charges?" and he gave me this paper: "13, Berners Street, Dramatic School. Engagements guaranteed when proficient; twelve lessons 5l. 5s., payable in advance; two private lessons 1l. 1s. "—I had not the money, but I paid him 1l. 2s. on account—I saw him again on the Wednesday and Friday after, and he said that I was to take the

part of Rosalind in "As you like it," and then he found it was too difficult for me, and I learned Portia, and had my lessons with Mr. Culver—he gave me about nine lessons altogether—I also studied Dosdemona—he said later on, that he had taken the Garrick Theatre, and could get me an engagement there—that was about the middle of April—on 19th April I received a postcard to go and see him about an engagement—I went on the Saturday, and he said that if I paid him 5l. he would get me an engagement at the Garrick Theatre—I said, "I have not got the money now, but I will bring it on Monday"—I had paid him the 5l. 5s. for my lessons—I went on the Monday and took him the 5l., and he gave me this receipt. (For 10l. 5s., signed by Jacobs "for Dibdin Culver")—-Jacobs took me with the receipt into Culver's room, who said, "It is an excellent chance for you, and I am glad you have got some one to start you, for it is a chance against the world"—I told him I had borrowed the 5l. to pay it—he said nothing except that the Garrick Theatre would be opened on 27th May with a French play, which had not been on the stage for years, and he could not buy the books, so my part would have to be written, and he would write and let me know when he wanted me—I asked how much a week I should get—he said, "A guinea a week to start with, and according to how you get on, so I will raise you"—he gave me this written engagement: "May 22, 1882. I hereby engage Miss A. Stewart to play responsible parts, at 1l. 1s. per week, subject to play-house rules. Should anything prevent theatre opening money to be returned. Dibdin Culver. "He said that I need not buy any dresses, those I had would do—I would not have parted with my money if I had not believed he had taken the Garrick Theatre, and that he had given me a bond fide engagement—the theatre did not open, and I went to Culver in June, and said, "How is it the theatre has not opened?"—he sail, "I am waiting for some money, and as soon as it opens I will write and let you know "—I waited another week, and went again, but he was not at home—I went on 19th June, and said, "Mr. Culver, how is it the theatre has not opened?"—he said, "Oh, I am in awful trouble; have not you heard?"—I said, "No"—he said, "A man is going to summons me for 10s.; I offered him his money, and he won't take it"—I said," I am very sorry for you," and went away, and in July I received this Utter: "1st July, 1882. Dear Miss Stewart—Kindly excuse the long delay, but the vexatious lawsuit is not over yet; when it is I will let you know immediately, when we will commence work in earnest. D. Culver. "I did not see him after that letter—I went to Bernera Street, but he had left—I saw something in a newspaper, and applied for a warrant, and he was taken in custody—I never got my ten guineas back; nothing but the lessons.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You received 10 guineas from me, 5 guineas for lessons, 5l. for the engagement, and 5s. for booking—I only received nine lessons altogether—I did not sign any agreement—I received this letter from you of 3rd August. (This stated: "I believe Mr. Vernon has written to you. I will see you, and come to a definite understanding. It is a pity you did not go to Folkestone, as you would have had good practice.") My mother would not give me the money to go to Folkestone, she thought I had lost enough—Mr. Vernon wanted me to go there without salary, and to pay my own expenses—you did not say that you would hand me over to Mr. Vernon, who would give me lessons and make up the amount—I did not see you again till the day 'of the trial—I did not agree to take my

lessons of Mr. Vernon instead—I wanted the 5l. back to pay the gentle" man I had borrowed it of—I did not borrow it of my father—I have had lessons from Mr. Vernon since I applied to you for the money; they began on 12th July—I admit that nine days after the trial I went to Mr. Vernon to take lessons; it was not six weeks after that—I applied to you because I was not in London, I have been away three months—I called on Mr. Bryant, a solicitor, of Philpot Lane, after I had taken out the summons—I did not tell him that I would relieve you from the 5l., and take lessons with Mr. Vernon instead; I said I should expect you to pay my 5l., and I should prosecute you if you did not, and he was to write to you to that effect.

Re-examined, I paid Mr. Vernon 3l. 3s. for lessons since the last trial; it was not for an engagement, but he offered me an engagement at Folke. stone without salary.

ALFRED BROWN (Police Sergeant). I took the prisoner on 3rd August, and read the warrant to him, which was for obtaining 5l. from Annie Stewart by false pretences—I took down what he said; he said" I have written to Miss Stewart this evening offering to pay her as soon as I can get the money. I have tried hard, but have been unable to get it."

HENRY LEVEY . I am a solicitor, of 18, Surrey Street, Strand, and am trustee for my deceased brother, Lawrence Levey—the Garrick Theatre is part of his estate—the prisoner called on me about it, but I declined to let it unless the rent was paid in advance—it has been closed 15 months.

Cross-examined. You offered me 50l. down instead of 91l., which I refused—you did not show me the 50l.

HENRY HEATHER . I am a land agent, and represent the freeholders and leaseholders of the Garrick Theatre—I did not let it to the prisoner.

Witnesses for the Defence.

OLIVER BRYANT . Miss Stewart called on me a few days before she took out this warrant; I dor't know the date—she said that she had arranged to take lessons from Vernon as against the 5l. you owed her.

Cross-examined. She did not consult me as a solicitor, she came to me for the 5l.—I defended the prisoner on the last trial on 3rd July; Mr. Williams prosecuted, and Mr. Besley was our counsel—Miss Stewart said that she was sent to me by Culver or some one in his office for the 5l., and also by Mr. Smith, of Charlotte Street—I had no money of Culver's—she told me she had been sent about a good deal for this 5l., and that Culver had arranged that she should take lessons from Vernon, but not that she paid 3l. 3s. for them—I saw Vernon when ho was called as a witness for the defence on the last occasion; I don't know him—Charles Dickens called last time, and he was supposed to be Vernon—dickens knows where his place of business is.

Re-examined. Mr. Vernon did not tell me that he had taken your business over, but I saw a document—Miss Stewart told me she paid Vernon 3l. 3s. after she had received a number of lessons from him to set off against this 5l.—I told her she was foolish to do so; she said she thought he might get her an engagement, and so she gave it him—she did not mention an engagement at Folkestone.

AMBROSE PAGE . I am well known in the professional world—I have known you some years, but the first time I came in personal contact with you was 14 months ago, when I called and asked if you could engage a

manager for a company going on a tour—you did so, and I Was out with that company this time 12 months—I remember your obtaining other places—I do not know how many—-you engaged nearly the whole company—I was satisfied with the engagement—I met three pupils of yours, and never heard they were dissatisfied with the tuition—I have frequently known artists engaged before the negotiations for a theatre are completed.

MR. ARCHIBALD. I am a publisher—I hare known you 14 or 15 months—you occupied chambers at 13, Berners Street, fire or six rooms—I have called on you there, and as far as I know yours was a bond-fide agency—you have kept me waiting when you were engaged in teaching.

Cross-examined. I generally went there in the evening to play at cards.

CHARLES FISH HEREPATH . I am a printer and advertiser—I have known you three years—I have called at your office many times, and I believe you carried on a bond-fide business—my observations cover 18 months up to June of this year—I have heard of you for years as an actor.

SARAH BULL CLAYTON . I am an actress—I was the prosecutrix is the last trial—I have been paid my money since then—I am satisfied, and would come to you again.

Cross-examined. I prosecuted him—ho represented that he had taken the Garrick Theatre, and that the opening piece was "Amos Clarke "—I was to play the principal part, Mildred Vaughan, so Jacobs said—he was the manager at the prisoner's office—the Garrick Theatre did not open—"Amos Clarke" was not played, and I did not play Mildred Vaughan—Mr. Jerome charged the prisoner, and he was convicted.

Re-examined. This paper (produced) is in Mr. Vernon's writing—I have had letters from him in the same writing.

The prisoner in his defence stated that the prosecution was only an attempt to me the criminal law for the recovery of a debt; that when he found himself unable to carry out his engagement with the prosecutrix, he desired to refund her the 5l., but was unable to do so in consequence of the former prosecution, and, not wishing her to be the loser, proposed that she should receive further tuition from Mr. Vernon, which terms she accepted, and received the lessons, but still demanded her 5l. 5s. back, and tried to extort it under the threat of a prosecution after he had really settled with her, and that in reality she was 2l. 10s. in his debt; that he went to her address to get even a sovereign, but found she had pawned her sheets, blankets, and pillow-cases; that a pupil of his in Liverpool had promised him 200l., and Mr. Sykes, who appeared on the last trial, promised him 150l., but was unable to let him have 50l.; that he had lost 150l. in 12 months from engagements alone, and from pupils going away without paying for their lessons, and therefore had to make them pay beforehand, and that, though actors and actresses were bad people of business, he had not committed any fraud.

GUILTY .— Two Months' Imprisonment without Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Monday, Oct. 23rd, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

972. TIMOTHY NEWMAN (19), THOMAS ST. LEGER (18), and JOHN PATRICK FITZGERALD (18) , Violently assaulting Charles Shepherd, and robbing him of his purse and 11s.

MR. JONES LEWIS Prosecuted.

CHARLES SHEPHERD . I am a brickmaker, and live at 348, Walmer Road, Notting Hill—on Sunday, 15th October, between 1.30 and 2 a. m., I was in the Edgware Road—I went to a coffee-stall, had a cup of coffee, and was going home, when I was stopped by Fitzgerald and St. Leger—they said "Can you fight?"—I said "Do I look like a fighter?"—no sooner had I said that than I was knocked down by one of them—I became insensible—another man stood behind them about a yard off who I could not recognise—when I recovered my senses I was in the Marylebone Police-station—I missed my purse, a half-sovereign, and a shilling—I had that money safe five minutes before I met the prisoners—it was in my trousers pocket—I have not seen my purse since—it is a leather bag—I had two cuts at the back of my head.

Cross-examined by Newman. I cannot recognise you; I can swear to the other two men.

Cross-examined by Fitzgerald. I was not with a prostitute, and did not strike you in Chapel Street—I never saw you before I was stopped.

ALFRED GOULD (Policeman D 269). About 1.30 on Monday evening, 15th October, I was in company with Sillar and Philpot—I saw Fitzgerald and St. Leger go up to the prosecutor; Newman stood a yard or two away—after a minute I heard the words "Hit him," and St. Leger at once knocked the prosecutor down and fell on the top of him—Newman and Fitzgerald rushed up and started kicking the prosecutor—I crossed the road with Sillar—one of the prisoners shouted "Look out," and all ran away—I and Sillar and Philpot followed them—I succeeded in capturing Newman at the corner of the Harrow. Road, 60 or 70 yards from the scene—I took the prosecutor to the station with me—he was covered in blood—Fitzgerald and St. Leger were afterwards brought to the station, and were identified by the prosecutor—I was in plain clothes.

Cross-examined by Newman. I was 25 or 30 yards from you before I crossed the road—I was half a minute crossing the road—you were the only men in the road.

Re-examined. I kept the prisoners in sight, and am perfectly certain who they were.

JAMES SILLAR (Policeman D 141). I was with Gould and another man in the Edgware Road—I have heard Gould's evidence; it is correct—I chased St. Leger—another constable ran out of a doorway, and turned him back into my arms—I arrested him—he was very violent; he said "If you don't let me go I will kick your b—guts out. "

EDWARD PHILPOT . I am a carman, of 6, Cambridge Mews, Paddington; I was with the two policemen in the Edgware Road—I have heard their evidence, and agree with it; it is correct—I heard St. Leger use those words to the constable when the constable stopped him—we did a dead heat for it, and ran level—I saw St. Leger fall on the top of the prosecutor, and I saw Newman run two and a half yards and kick him.

Cross-examined. Sillar and I ran after you and caught you in 400 or 500 yards after another constable turned you.

WILLIAM BURDEN (Policeman X 381). On Sunday week, the 15th October, between 1.30 and 2 a. m., I was on duty in the Harrow Road, Paddington—I heard cries of "Stop thief!" in the direction of the Edgware Road—I saw St. Leger and Fitzgerald coming in my direction, followed by several people—I stood back in a dark doorway, and when they were nearly

opposite me I rushed out upon them—I attempted to seize St. Leger, hut he turned and ran into the arms of Sillar—I pursued Fitzgerald, not losing sight of him, and captured him on Paddington Green—I took him to John Street Police-station, where he was identified by the prosecutor.

THOMAS CHARLES KIRBY , M. D. I live at 18, Cambridge Terrace, Hyde Park—I am divisional surgeon to the police of that district—I was called to the police-station on Sunday, 15th inst, about 2.30, to dress the prosecutor's wounds—he had two wounds on the back of his head, three or four large bruises on the top of his head, a bad cut near the left eye, and a cut on the neck—I dressed his wounds; they were not dangerous—the wounds on his head would be consistent with severe kicks, and what I saw in his face were blows from the fist—he bled a good deal from the head.

Newman's defence was that he saw the other prisoners rowing with the prosecutor and went to see whether they were caught, when a constable said" You are one of them," and charged him with kicking the man. St. Leger and Fitzgerald said they interfered in a dispute between the prosecutor and a prostitute; he wanted to fight them, and struck and kicked them, and they struck and kicked him back.

GUILTY . Fitzgerald also PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in February this year at Marylebone Police-court.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.

NEW COURT.—Monday, October 22nd, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

973. CHARLES PARKER (63) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 8l. 15s., with intent to defraud.

MR. REDWOOD Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.

ANN GORDON . I am the wife of Thomas Gordon, a retired publican, of 31, Regent Square—on 18th September I saw the prisoner, who is an old friend of mine—I had known him many years—he said that he had got a house for me at 74, Grosvenor Road, Pimlico, and would I give him 5l. for Mr. Grove towards the first quarter's rent, and on 30th September he came and said that he had seen the landlord and landlady, and they would not let me the house till I paid 3l. 15s. more—I said "It is not convenient, but I will give you a sovereign on account and pay you the rest on Monday"—he left this agreement and receipt—I said "Mr. Parker, it is your writing"—he said "I know it is, but the landlord signed it; being an old man he cannot write very well, and I have written it out for him"—I believed that—I promised to give him 10l. after I had got possession of the house, and he had written out an agreement that he had nothing further to do with it.

Cross-examined. I asked him to get the house for me, and he was to have 10l. for doing so—he was to get the agreement made out in his own name, I being married—I saw the house and approved of it—I gave him 6l. 5s. altogether; that was for the landlord—the prisoner would have been entitled to 10l., but he had not done his business—I did not give him in custody; my husband got a warrant, but I was not there—I live with my husband at 31, Regent Square—he has not been prosecuted for keeping a disorderly house—it is a lodging-house, not a brothel—I do not let it to

people of immoral character that I am aware of—I don't think there is any doubt that it is used as a brothel—I live there and have two ladies and three gentlemen lodging there—I don't come here to tell my lodgers' business—my husband and I do not agree, and I wanted to leave him and take a house in Pimlico and let it in lodgings—my husband became aware of my taking a house on the Monday morning before the prisoner was taken on the Tuesday—that was through Mr. Mail, my brother, showing him the receipt—I had shown it to the landlord, and he said that it was not his, and my husband went with Mr. Mail and got a warrant—the prisoner wanted 8l. 15s. and 10l. on top of that—my husband is here—when the warrant was granted I signed it—I believe 31, Regent Square is in the Directory; I know no reason why it should not be.

Re-examined. There was something in the lease which I did not like—it was first to go off in the first three years, and then it was to go off differently.

CHARLES MAIL . I live at 50, Atwell Road, Peckham, and am landlord of 71, Grosvenor Road, Pimlico—on 28th September I saw the prisoner at his place in Great Castle Street, Oxford Street, by appointment—he is a zinc-worker and ironmonger—I took him the agreement which I had prepared—my wife was with me—nothing was said about a deposit at all, and I did not ask for any—he looked over the agreement and said "I consent to it," and signed it—he said he was going to occupy the house himself, as he had sold his business and had been turned out of his house by the Board of Works—this is his signature, and this is mine and my wife's—I did not receive a farthing from the prisoner—this receipt is not my signature; I did not give the prisoner or any other person authority to sign it.

Cross-examined. I did not know that he was taking it for Mrs. Gordon—the agreement states that he is not to underlet it without my signature in writing—I went to 31, Regent Square, and saw Mr. and Mrs. Gordon—I saw Mr. Gordon in Court to-day.

ISAAC JACOBS (Policeman C 201). On 10th October I took the prisoner on a warrant—he said that he thought it was very hard—he had only had 6l. and was entitled to 10l.

The prisoner received a good character.

NOT GUILTY .

974. CHARLES PARKER was again indicted for unlawfully obtaining the sums of 5l. and 1l. from Ann Gordon by false pretences. MR. REDWOOD offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

975. BRIDGET KELLY (20) , Robbery with violence on Henry August Redult, and stealing a purse and 4l., his property.

MR. CUNNINGHAM Prosecuted.

HENRY AUGUSTE REDULT . I am a German sailor, staying at the Trafalgar Coffee House, Leman Street, Whitechapel—on 22nd September, a little after midnight, I was at the corner of Batt Street, Ratcliff Highway, and saw a sort of row—I went to see what was going on, and the prisoner drew up alongside of me, and I saw and felt her hand in my left trousers pocket, where I had four sovereigns and 16s. or 17s. in silver, which she took out, and ran—I ran after her, and caught her without losing sight of her—a chap standing in a doorway tripped me up, and said "Let the woman

alone "—I fell on my hands and knees, and got up, and ran after her again—she ran among a lot of people, and tried to hide herself among them, but I was close to her, and kept her in view till a constable came—the two runs before and after my fall occupied about five minutes—I went into the German Flag, and found my hand bleeding—I was stabbed the second time I caught hold of her—I was taken to the London Hospital, and am still under treatment.

Gross-examined by the Prisoner. I charged you of robbing me of 5l.—I was out of my senses at the station.

ALBERT COLLINS (Policeman H 37). About 12.30 a. m. on 22nd Sept. I saw Redult running after the prisoner in Ratcliff Highway—I caught her, and Redult charged her with stealing his purse and 4l.—I got hold of her—she said "I will see you b——before I go with you," and threw herself down—she was very violent, and I heard money drop on the pavement while she was struggling with me—I could not see what became of it as I was engaged with her—I got her with assistance into the German flag beerhouse, and then saw Redult's hand bleeding, and saw blood on the prisoner's apron (produced)—I asked her how she accounted for it—she said "I did it"—on the way to the station she said "I did it, you are a gentleman," but after the charge was read of stabbing as well as robbing him she said that she was innocent—I accompanied Redult to the hospital on the ambulance—he was unable to sit up or speak; he had lost so much blood.

Cross-examined. I did not see a woman cuddle you round your neck and take the purse from your bosom.

CHRISTOPHER FAGAN (Policeman H 260). On 22nd September I was on duty in Prince's Square, and heard a rattle spring—I went in that direction, and came to the German Flag beerhouse—there was a crowd outside—I went in, and saw the prisoner and the prosecutor, whose hand was bleeding into a basin—he appeared very weak from Ions of blood—I saw the prisoner strike a young woman, who said "You have done it, and you will have to pay for it"—the prisoner did not reply—we took the prisoner to the station, and on the way she said "You are a b—Irishman, and so am I; I did it"—and she said to the other officer three times "I done it"—Redult was put on an ambulance, and we took him to the London Hospital—he never spoke.

Cross-examined. I did not see a woman strike you twice in the face in the public-house, but I saw you strike a young woman.

ANN COLLINS . I am an unfortunate girl, and live at 11, Albert Street, Shad well—on 22nd September, about 12.20 a. m., I saw Redult running after the prisoner in Ratcliff Highway—a constable came up, and then three of her companions cuddled her round her neck, and one took a purse out of her bosom—I then heard some money drop, and they scrambled for it—I saw three penny pieces picked up—Redult took the purse, and said that it was his, but there was no money in it—that was while the police had hold of her—they said to him "See if you have not got your purse "—he said "No, I have not," but he put his hand in his pocket and said "Yes, here is my purse, but my 4l. in gold has gone."

By the COURT. I cannot write; I put my mark to my depositions—I did not say "Some money was dropped, they scrambled for it, one of the girls then put the purse back into his left coat pocket"—what I said was

I saw him take the purse out of his pocket, and hold it up—yes, It was so, but I did not quite recollect it.

RUTH COLLINGWOOD . I live at 1, Palmer's Folly, Shad well, and am an unfortunate girl—on 22nd September, after midnight, I was standing at the corner of John's Hill, and saw the prisoner and five more following Redult—the prisoner went deliberately and took a purse out of his pocket, and was about to see what was in it, but he ran after her two or three times up and down John's Hill—he caught her once, but she got away—I think some one tripped him up—she ran up Bett Street, and was coming back, and a policeman caught her—a young woman caught hold of her, put her hand down her bosom, and took out the purse—the other four women were near, and one of them scattered the money about—they were all together, the same five women who ran at first—I could not see the money, but I beard it jingle—Redult held his hand out, and blood was pouring from a wound—I went into the German Flag, and the prisoner struck a young woman, who said "For the like of you we can't get our living; you are not satisfied with robbing sailors, you maltreat them," and struck the prisoner, who struck her back—I did not see what was done with the purse.

Cross-examined. I was in the public-house—the master of the public house did not tell you to take off your apron for the prosecutor to wipe his hand, nor did the policeman take hold of your hands, and strike you twice in the face because you did not take your apron off quick enough—I saw him strike you once, and you struck back—I did not see you take your apron off—I noticed that it was stained with blood—at the station you accused a witness of striking you, but it was not her—I know the young woman who you struck.

Re-examined. I noticed blood on the apron while it was on the prisoner.

BASIL WOOD WALKER , I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—Redult was brought there on 22nd September, a little after midnight, in a state of collapse, from profuse bleeding from a wound on his hand, across the palm from the centre to the side—it went about threequarters of an inch into the palm, and must have been done with a sharp instrument—he is still under treatment.

Prisoner's Defence. I saw a lot of women and the prosecutor following me; he fell and got up and followed me again and asked me for his purse. I asked what he meant and he charged me with stealing his purse. I went with the constable into the beerhouse. The master of the public-house sprang his rattle, which brought another constable. A woman struck me on my face because I could not get my apron off fast enough. There was a piece of an umbrella-handle with a seal to it there, and she said "Here is the knife, I can see that that done it. "He took it to the station.

CHRISTOPHER FAGAN (Re-examined). This piece of an umbrella was given me by a woman—I took it to the police-court—the Magistrate said it could not have been done with that.

GUILTY of stealing only. She then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Clerkenwell in September, 1881.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

976. JOHN HORAN (17) , Robbery on John Moody, and stealing a hat, his property. MR. JONES LEWIS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

977. JOHN HORAN was again indicted for unlawfully assaulting John Moody and Edward Philpot, to which he PLEADED GUILTY — To enter into recognisances.

ESSEX CASES.

Before Mr. Recorder.

978. HENRY JAMES BEADY (49) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Lewis Banks, and stealing a coal-scuttle and other goods.

MESSRS. MORTEN and T. W. RAYMOND Prosecuted.

FELIX MARTIN In August I was in the occupation of Lawn House, Sidney Road, Forest Gate, for Mr. Banks, the owner—on the 27th, a little after 11 o'clock, before I went to bed, I securely fastened the kitchen window and shutters, and shut and bolted the door leading from the kitchen to the passage—I was aroused about 1. 15 by the barking of the dog—I got up and went down—when I got to the kitchen door I saw the kitchen poker protruding, through the keyhole and being moved about—I sent my wife upstairs for a watchman's rattle, unbolted the front door, and sprang the rattle and called for he police—after some time we forced open the kitchen door and found the prisoner there—several articles were taken from the shelves and placed no the table ready to take away—the window shutters were forced" open and the window was broken.

CHARLES HART (Policeman K 440). I heard a noise and went to the assistance of the last witness—I helped him to open the door and found the prisoner there—I afterwards made an examination of the premises—he had got into the garden by coming through the next house and knocking down part of the garden fence, and had gamed access to the house by breaking two squares of glass and part of the window sashI forced my way in and knocked him down—I picked him up and placed him my a chair—he looked round at some soup tureens and said "Those would have been mine had, they not have left me when they heard the noise. "

ROBERT PEARCEY (Polio Sergeant K 16). When the prisoner was put in the dock at the station he said "This is through them putting me. "

Prisoner. I was labouring under disease of the head or I should not WILLIAM GUEST CARPENTER I am a Fellow of the Royal College of mind was not quite sound—he suffered from pains in his head and from vertigo—I consider his mind unsound—he is subject to attacks of temporary insanity, and does not know what he is doing.

NOT GUILTY, being of unsound mind. — To he detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be knoun.

979. NATHANIEL MACE, Stealing 21/2 cwt. of indiarubber and two bales the goods of the London and St. Katharine's Dock Company.

MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH and BLACKWELL Defended;

JOSEPH HOLTON . I am a piece worker in the Royal Albert Docks, at

No. 7 Group—on 11th September, between 5 and 6 p. m., I had occasion to go to my box, which is on the south side of the Royal Albert Docks, and where we hang our clothes and things and take shelter—from the box we can see No. 22 Shed, looking across the cart road—it is a covered thoroughfare—I noticed a cart—the prisoner and a little boy were in it—he drove straight across the road towards the opening—the boy came out on to the stage of No. 24 Shed, looking about him each way—no deliveries were going on at No. 22 Shed—I watched the cart come out in five or six minutes through the same thoroughfare—I went and told Norman, the deputy warehouseman—we stopped the cart, let the tailboard down, and looked in it and saw two bags of indiarubber covered over with sacks and rugs—they would weigh about 11/4 cwt. each—this is one of the bags (produced)—they had been stored with the others on the ground floor.

Cross-examined. I did not tell Norman I saw two men put something into the cart—White is the shedman at No. 22—he is not here—he was not called at the police-court—a person coming for goods would have to get an order and take it to the superintendent's office, and that would have to go to the delivery foreman, Coper—he is not here—skin and fat are kept in the docks—a person is stopped at the gate to see whether the goods tallied with the pass—the prisoner's was a light two-wheeled cart—the bales would be difficult for one man to lift—they were separated—it was raining hard.

Re-examined. The gatekeeper could not have seen the bales without going up to the cart—the prisoner had no pass—the delivery order is endorsed by clerks in the office, and given to the foreman, who delivers the pass.

EDWARD GEORGE NORMAN . I was acting warehouse-keeper on 11th September at No. 7 Group, south side, Royal Albert Dock—about 5.30 p. m., in consequence of what Holton said to me, I came out of my shelter-box and saw the prisoner driving the cart towards the dock gate—I stopped the cart and asked him what he had got in it—he said "Nothing that I am aware of"—I was not satisfied, and took down the tailboard and saw two bales of indiarubber covered over with some sacks and a rug—I asked him if he had a pass for that—he said he was not aware they were in the cart; he had left his cart for about an hour and had been to the other end of the dock to buy some fat; he came back, jumped into the cart in a hurry, and drove away—I sent for one of our own constables and gave him into custody—there were no deliveries at No. 22 Sued—all the doors had been closed but one, which was left open for some men to go in for tackle for a ship that was un unloading at No. 26—I had seen the cart on the bank at the back of 22 Shed about two hours previously—the bank is called" Waste Ground" on the plan produced.

Cross-examined. The fat and shin would be on board ship at the other end of the dock—I said before the Magistrate "I was informed there was something wrong by Joseph Holton, a piece worker under me; he said he saw two men put something into the cart"—also that one man could not have put either of the bales into the cart from the ground, and "They weighed about 3 cwt."—he would be stopped at the gate to see whether the pass and the contents of the cart tallied.

Cross-examined. I have seen the gate-keeper stop and examine carts—

I was in my office about 5.30 when Holton came running to me and said, "There is a man coming along with two bales of indiarubber in his cart"—I asked if he could recognise who put them in—he said, "Two men," but it was done so quick he could not see—being principal of the department I was anxious to find out who it was, and ran out of my shed.

JOSEPH THOROGOOD . I had charge of the indiarubber floor in No. 22 shed—it had been taken from the Goa—about 4 p. m. on 11th September I counted a tier in 22 shed; the tier contained 24; they were marked "T. T. "and "L." underneath and numbered—the next morning, at 8 o'clock, I went and counted them, and missed two—the delivery work ceased at 4 o'clock.

Cross-examined. A man was left in charge of the larger shed; he books the landing and deliveries.

WILLIAM MARSHALL . I am warehouseman of No. 7 group, which includes No. 22 and two other sheds—George White was shedman—on 11th September No. 22 shed was closed at 4 o'clock, except one door which was left open to get at the tackle—I left White in charge and to sweep up—I was communicated with at No. 26—a ship was unloading—I did not notice a cart standing at the door when I left; I should have noticed it if there had been.

Cross-examined. I could not say the date, but I know it was Monday—I was not called before the Magistrate.

GEORGE WILLIAM HAMILTON . I am police-inspector at the London and St. Katharine's Dock—on 11th September the prisoner was brought to me by Norman, who said in his presence that he had stopped him on the south side of the Albert Dock with two bales of gutta-percha in his cart, and that he had taken down the tailboard and found them—I told the prisoner he had no occasion to say anything at ail about it to me, for he would have to be charged and go before a Magistrate—he said he knew nothing about them, that he came into the dock to buy fat and skins—dealers come in and buy fat and skins from the ships—the prisoner has been a small jobbing man, comiug in and out o£ the dook with a cart—there was no fat or skins in the cart, and hardly any ships where the prisoner was—I saw the cart about a quarter to 4 on what we call the waste ground at the back of 22 shed, lying towards Silvertown, belonging to the Dock Company—there was only a ship unloading at 26 shed—White is in the hospital—he was nominally in charge of the shed, but was employed to do anything.

Cross-examined. The boy who was in the cart was the prisoner's son, and is about 11 or 12 years of age—the cart was small, and would be down at the springs with 20 cwt., but it is the carman's risk what he carries.

Re-examined. The prisoner is thoroughly acquainted with Dock business.

GUILTY .*— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

KENT CASES.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

980. WILLIAM SETCHELL (25), GEORGE CARTER SURMAN (52), CHARLES THOMPSON (), JAMES HARRIS (), and GEORGE TICKETT (32) , Stealing 10 cows, the property of William Edgar Tick, to which

TICKETT PLEADED GUILTY , and SETCHELL PLEADED GUILTY to receiving.

MR. POLAND, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against THOMPSON and

HARRIS— NOT GUILTY .

WILLIAM EDGAR TICK . I am a dairyman, of Bell Green, Lewisham—on 24th August, a little before 8 o'clock, I had 15 cows safe in a field; next morning, at a little after 4 o'clock, I missed 10 of them, and found the lock of the field gate broken—they were milch cows, fresh calved, and worth nearly 250l.—on Saturday, the 26th, I went to Mr. Gascoigne's, a meat salesman at the Metropolitan Meat Market, and saw the carcases of 10 cows; one had a peculiar swelling on the left hock, and one was a half-bred Guernsey, a very poor cow, which had just calved, and two of the carcases corresponded—I saw a cow's tail before the Magistrate, and recognised it as the tail of my biggest cow—I could tell that they were cow carcases.

FRANCES BRITTLE . I am the wife of Henry Brittle, of 87, Usk Grove, Battersea—Setchell and Surman first came to my house about the beginning of August—my husband was at work—Setchell asked if he could have a place for killing beasts, as they were large contractors for the Government, and were leaving their other place because there was not quite room enough, and they had to wait—he said they were supplying the soldiers with beef—they did not say where their other place was—I told them they had better come in the evening and see my husband, as he was not at home—they gave me no name—some time afterwards three cows were brought and slaughtered there—on Thursday night, 24th August, I saw from a window 10 cows brought into the slaughter house between 11 and 12 o'clock—I did not see the men the next morning, they were gone to the market—on the following day I was in the slaughter-house, and saw Setchell there all day assisting in slaughtering those 10 beasts-—Surman came in twice, and took away some of the offal—I did not see him on the Thursday—on Saturday, the 26th, the carcases were gone—Inspector Hunt came on that day; I saw him find the tail of a beast in the slaughter-house, and some of the udders were there—when the slaughter-house was engaged, Setchell asked if we would get up in the night to open the gates for them; I said "Yes. "

Cross-examined by Setchell. I did not see you driving them.

HENRY BRITTLE . I am the husband of the last witness, and am an engineer—I have a slaughterhouse at the back of my premises, and let it out at so much a head for people to kill beasts in—about the 8th August, after 6 p. m., Setchell and Surman called to see the slaughter-house—Surman said it was a very nice slaughter-house, more convenient than the one they had been at, and asked the price, how much a head—I said 2s. 6d.—sometimes one spoke and sometimes the other—they gave the name of Price, who they said was a large cattle-dealer and contractor for the Army, who sometimes did as many as 50 a week—after this three cows were brought to the house and slaughtered—Setchell left the money with my mistress—on 24th August, between 11 and 12 o'clock, Surman and a young man I do not know came to my house—Surman said "I have got nine cows coming, and it will be half an hour before they come "—I gave them something to drink, and shortly afterwards 10 cows came—I went and opened the gate and they were put into my premises, and the man who brought them went away with Surman and the other man—I did not go into the slaughter-house the next morning,

Friday, but about dinner-time I saw the cows being killed by Setchell and two other men—on the Wednesday I let two vans into my premises soon after 4 a. m. to take away the carcases—Setchell, Surman, and two carmen were there, and on Saturday morning Surman took away four hides and the offal—the udders and one of the tails were left.

JOHN BARTON . I am a butcher, of 7, Tunbridge Street, Euston Road—on a Friday in August I was at the Metropolitan Meat Market, and Setchell spoke to me at a quater to 6 a. m.—Surman was with him—he said "You are just the man I am looking for"—I said "Oh, what do you want?"—he said "I want you to come and help me do 10 beasts to-day "—I said "I can't come now "—he said "When can you come?"—I said "As soon as I am done with the man I am working for I will come to you"—I said" How are you going to work?"—he said" Me and you can do them "—I said "No, I shall not, it is too much; you must get another man "—he said "Very well, I will"—I saw him again about 7 o'clock, and asked if he had another man, and he said "No;" be told me to get a man, and I had one there waiting for him—Setchell told me to go to the little butcher's shop in the Battersea Road belonging to Surman—I went there about 9.30 on the Friday morning—I saw Surman there, and said "Are they here?"he said "No, they are just gone "—I said "Where am I to go to?" he said "Collier's slaughterhouse, in the Usk Road "—I asked him where the Usk Road was; he said "Catch that tram," which was passing the end of his street," and go as far as you can by that, and then inquire "—I found the slaughter-house was at Mr. Brittle's. in the Usk Road—I could not find it under the name of Collier; I found Brittle's—I found Setchell and Jelly there waiting for me, and we set to work and slaughtered these 10 milch cows—there were three greys, and some were brown and white, or red and white; one was a short-horned poor cow, and one a very poor cow, not worth more than 4d. a pound when dead, but it was healthy—one was a very broad-backed red roan, and another a big blue cow, very wild, and we had trouble to kill her—the hock of one of them was as big again as it ought to be—while we were slaughtering them I asked Setehell once or twice where they came from—once he said they came from Romford, and another time he gave me some evasive answer—he never told me they came from Tick's—we had slaughtered them all about 6 o'clock at night—Setchell and Surman talked together behind the beef—Setchell paid me in Barman's presence; Surman took away a cart-load of something—I threw six heads into the cart, and there were six hides and six fat offals, excepting the hearts and tongues—Surman took both loads—we had a candle to finish the last lot by—I received 11s. for my work, but I paid him back It. in the public-house, and gave Jelly 6d., so I had 9s. 6d., ex my fare, which was 1s. 6d.

WILLIAM GASCOIGNE . I am a meat salesman in the "C" avenue of the Metropolitan Meat Market—on Saturday, 26th August, 91/4 beasts were brought to me in Cornell's van—before that I had seen Setchell, whom I had always known as Price, and he told me he had 10 carcases coming, which I was to sell for him—he did not say where from—93/4 came, and I sold them for 115l. and a few shillings—I asked him where he got them; he said he bought them at Egham for 16l. each—I said that was a good price, and I did not believe him—about 4.30 the same day he came, and I said "You have got yourself into a nice mess about

these carcases," and I sent my clerk out for a policeman—a man whom I did not know was with him, who said "Iam the owner of the meat"—the policeman came, and Setchell was taken in custody—I kept the money by order of the Court—I went to the House of. Detention, but did not recognise him—Surman was not there on the Saturday, but they are always together.

WILLIAM JEFFREY . I am a hide-buyer in the service of Messrs. Oastler and Co., of Bermondsey—on 25th August Surman came to my premises about 6 o'clock in the afternoon with a small cart with six hides in it—he said "I have got some hides in the cart"—I said "Where do you bring them from?"—he said "Taylor, of Brixton "—I had them unloaded and weighed, and told him the price, 17s. each—I said "Where shall I send the cheque?" he said "Taylor of Battersea; but you have no occasion to send the cheque, I shall bring some more to-morrow morning "—on Saturday morning he brought four more—I weighed them and told him the price, 17s., and made out the account to Taylor—he said he would take the cheque—I gave him the account to take to our counting-house, and there he had the cheque which Mr. Palmer wrote out for 8l. 10s.—I had not known him before—I do not know Taylor at Brixton or Battersea.

JOHN PALMER . I am one of the firm of Oastler, Palmer, and Co., tanners, at Bermondsey—on Saturday morning, 26th August, I wrote this cheque (produced) for 8l. 10s. to pay for the hides.

HENRY NATHANIEL HILLMAN . I am a bone merchant, at 32, Green Street, Blackfriars—on 26th August Surman brought me this crossed cheque for 8l. 10s.—I cashed it for him—I paid it in to my account.

JOHN HALL . I am beadle of the Metropolitan Meat Market—on 26th August I went to Mr. Gascoigne's shop, and saw Setchell and another man there—Mr. Gascoigne said "This is the man that came and told me he was going to send the beef, and he came when the meat was brought to the market, and he has now come for the cheque "—I told Setchell he would have to go to the station—he said "The other man is the owner; I was only engaged to slaughter the beasts "—then the other man said that he was the owner, and he would go down with us to the station—I took Setchell to the station, and I don't know what has become of the other man—I did not see Surman.

DANIEL HUNT (Police Inspector). On Saturday, 26th August, I went to Mr. Brittle's slaughter-house—it had been cleaned up—in one corner I saw a heap of cows' udders, with the milk running from them—there were 10 halves and part of a tail, which was shown to Mr. Tick at the Court—the same evening I went to the Snow Hill Police-station, where I found Setchell detained—I said "The 10 cows you sold to Mr. Gascoigne this morning were stolen from Lewisham; you will be charged with stealing them"—he said "I know nothing about them; they do not belong to me; I was only engaged to slaughter them; they belong to a man named Smith "—I found this letter on him, signed W. H. Price—it was in an envelope, stuck down, but not addressed—I said "What is this?"—he said "I do not know; open it and see"—I opened it and read it to him:" Sir,—I have engaged a carman to convey my beef to market. If you have not got room to hang it all up I will send a van this evening, so that you can send what you think proper. Send all offal back with the cart. Dress them as well as you can. I am going

this evening to look at seven more. If I am not back by the time you have done, pay the expenses, and I will pay you in the morning.—W. H. Price. "I said "Who is Price?" he said "Oh, that is Smith"—I said "How did you get the letter? it has no address; how did you come by it?"—he said "It was brought to me by a little boy in the slaughter-house"—I said "Whose little boy?" he said "Mrs. Surman's"—I said "Where does she live?"—he said "She keeps a butcher's shop in New Road, Battersea"—I said "What is her husband, then?"—he said "She has not got a husband," or "I do not know her husband"—I asked him where Smith lived—he said "I do not know where he lives; he is a dealer; 61, East Street, Walworth, I think, is on the cart"—I said "Where did he first see you in reference to these cows?"—he said "He called at my house about 10 o'clock on Thursday night, and his brother was with him"—I took him to the Carter Street station, and on the Wednesday morning I removed him to the Lewiaham Station—on the way he said "Have you found Smith?"—I said "No; I don't believe there is such a person"—he said "Yes, there is; it was he who drove the cows to Brittle's and took the hides away"—I tried to find Smith, and afterwards I heard that a man named Smith was in custody for horse-stealing—I took Filo, Mr. Gascoigne's salesman, to the House of Detention, and he there identified Smith among a number of persons as the man who came with Setchell for the money for the 10 beasts at Mr. Gascoigne's—he was tried at the Surrey Sessions yesterday with another man.

GEORGE WHITLOCK (Police Sergeant P). I arrested Surman on Friday, 6th October, at Bostall, near Rochester—I and the inspector had been on the look-out for him for some weeks—I said "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with Setchell and others in stealing 10 cows from Bell Green, Lower Sydenham, on 24th August"—he said "I am not much in it; I only sold the offal"—on the way he said "I heard the other two men had gone away, and a policeman had gone to my house, and I went away as well"—I took him to Carter Street Police-station and then to Lewisham Police-station—he made no reply to the charge—I found on him 7l. in gold and 13s. in silver.

JOHN FOLLINGS . I live at Montagu Cottage, Bell Green, and am a bricklayer—on Thursday, 24th August, I was on the path by Mr. Tick's house between 7.30 and 8 p. m.—I saw Setchell coming up the road, and spoke to him—that was about a quarter of a mile from Mr. Tick's field.

MARY ANN BESLEY . I am the wife of. John Besley, of Bell Green, Lower Sydenham—on Thursday night, 24th August, I saw Setchell at the Rail way Tavern about 9 o'clock; that is about 70 or 80 yards from Mr. Tick's field—I picked him out from 14 others at the police-station—I saw Tickett before the Magistrate—he came and called the others out from the public-house—to the best of my belief he is the man.

Cross-examined by Setchell. I am sure you are the man—I saw you at the public-house; you called for two of unsweetened gin, and the other man had two glasses of port wine.

WILLIAM EDGAR TICK (Re-examined). I was in Court when Barton described these beasts—my 10 cows corresponded with that description—the one he called brown and white, was really red and white.

Setchell's Defence. I did not steal them. I plead guilty to receiving them. I offered no resistance, and did not leave the place till I was taken. I never had a stain on my character.

Surman in his defence stated that the first thing he heard woe, Setchell told

him that two men had employed him to kill the beasts, and that he teas called up from his bed to take them to the slaughter-house for Setchell, and, having done so, he went away, and was engaged afterwards to sell the offal; that he received the cheque for the hides, and kept the money when he heard that the beasts were not honestly come by, and that the men did not bear good characters.

SETCHELL— GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecution. —Eighteen Month' Hard Labour. SURMAN— GUILTY of receiving. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Wandsworth in October, 1879.— Six Years' Penal Servitude. TICKETT also PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Lambeth in June, 1880.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

981. JOHN PATRICK DONOHUE (25) PLEADED GUILTY * to stalling a ring and other goods and chattels to the value of 24l., the property of Harry Arthur Andrewes, in his dwelling-house, and to a conviction of felony in April, 1880, at this Court.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Recorder.

982. HARRIET SLAMAKER (22) , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child. MR. ROMIEU Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended. NOT GUILTY .

SURREY CASES.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

983. THOMAS MARTIN** (57) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. And

984. WILLIAM GOODWIN** (40) to stealing, in the dwelling-house of Arthur Hitchcock, a revolver and other articles, and burglariously breaking out of the same, after a previous conviction of felony.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

985. THOMAS ALLEN (24) and JOHN DESMOND (30) , Feloniously cutting and wounding William Attwood, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. POLAND and A. METCALFE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

WILLIAM ATTWOOD . I am a warehouseman, of 18, Maze Court, Borough—on Sunday morning, 10th December, shortly after midnight, I was crossing London Bridge—I had only had two glasses of ale all the evening—I saw the two prisoners walking in the same direction towards the Borough—I overtook them, and as I passed them Allen pushed me, and said, "Be careful who you are pushing on," and struck me with his fiat on the left side of my face, which knocked me down-—I got up again, and held him—I went a little farther over the bridge, and he hit me with the knob of this stick (produced) on my shoulder, and knocked me down again—while I was holding him Desmond hit me on my head with his hand; first saying, "If you do not leave go of him I will make you leave go "—I fell, and do not remember anything more till I came to in Guy's hospital while my wounds were being dressed—I went to the station the same night, and saw the prisoners—I had to attend the hospital some time—I did not challenge the prisoners, or take my coat off.

Cross-examined. I left Mr. Goldsmith, a master carman, in Whitechapel

at 10 o'clock, and went down Tooley Street and had one glass of ale with one of our clerks at the Grapes—I then went to see him part of the way home—I was not staggering on the bridge—I did not reel against Desmond, or roll up against him and jerk him against Allen, nor was Allen's hat thrown off—I did not use beastly language to them; I never do, nor did I then strike Allen, nor did we struggle, and fall together, nor did ho get up and rejoin Desmond, nor did I follow, and get in front of Allen and tell him I would fight him—he did not say that he did not want to have anything to do with me, nor did I again strike him, or he strike me again, nor did I fall from the blow, and strike my head against the kerb—I din net strike Allen on the side of his head, causing a bump—I followed them, and asked Allen what it was for—I believe they were perfectly sober—I was alone—I gave them no provocation—it lasted 5 or 10 minutes—I suffered much pain.

DANIEL COLLINS . I live at 10, Waterloo Place, St. George's-in-the-East—on 10th September about 12.30 a. m. I was crossing London Bridge to the station, and saw Allen push Attwood into the road, seize him by his coat collar, and strike him with his right fist—he fell, and Allen fell on him, because Attwood kept hold of him—Attwood got up, and Allen struck him again with his fist—up to that time Desmond had done nothing, but he struck Attwood with a stick on his shoulder when he was getting up the last time—they walked thirty or forty yards, and then Allen seized him again, and struck him, and Desmond ran at him to strike him, but Allen said, "Let him alone, I can manage him," and struck Attwood on the side of his head, and he fell a third time insensible—I never saw Attwood strike either of the prisoners, and I was right against them till a crowd gathered and pushed me back—after he was knocked down the last time, and was insensible, the prisoners ran away down the steps of London Bridge—Dutch and I followed them, and they were brought back.

Cross-examined. When I first saw Attwood he was behind the prisoners, and I was behind him—he tried to pass them—they were three parts of the way across—I had not seen them cross ever;—I did not notice that Attwood jolted against them—two of my mates were with me—as Attwood tried to pass, he got shoved into the road—I was a yard behind them—I did not see a hat knocked into the road—Allen knocked Attwood down—Allen got up, and then Attwood got up and followed them across the bridge—a crowd gathered, and I got pushed behind—twenty or thirty people were crossing the bridge—Attwood walked by the prisoners doing up his collar and tie, which were torn—he stuck to them—they could not shake him off he did not catch hold of Allen, but said, "What are you doing this for? wait till I get over the bridge," and Allen pushed him off—I did not hear Desmond say, "If you don t leave go of him I will make you;" I heard some one say, "He has a knife"—I did not see one—then they ran off.

Re-examined. That was a man named Hall; he gave his name at the station.

GEORGE DUTCH . I am a fishmonger, of Rye Lane, Peckham—on 10th September, at 12.30 a. m., I was on London Bridge, and saw the prisoners—Attwood, who was behind them, overtook them, got abreast of them, and Allan pushed him down into the road—there was room for him to pass—he got up and asked them what they were doing, and Alien struck again and knocked him down, seized him and held him, and hit him with some

thing in his hand, but a chap said it was a knife—Attwood fell all of a lump, and said "Oh!" and groaned, and there he lay—I saw Desmond hit him with a stick—the prisoners ran across the bridge down the steps; I ran after them, and Allen threw something away—I caught him, and Desmond struck at me with a stick—a constable caught him—I was alone with them—they were taken to the station, where a man named Hall said that he saw a dirk up Desmond's sleeve—they said nothing—I did not see Attwood strike either of the prisoners, or take off his coat to fight.

Cross-examined. I did not see Collins till I went in pursuit; had he Been in front I must have seen him—I should say Allnutt did not touch either of the prisoners—he was pushed into the road—neither of the prisoners fell on him, or I must have seen it; I was two yards off—he followed them; he did not touch them, or go near them, if he had I must have seen it—he said "Who are you shoving?" he did not say "Wait till I am the other side of the bridge"—Hall said noting of the size of the dirk—I heard it on the stones, and some one ran down the steps, but it was gone—I know Hall called it a dirk before the Magistrate; I call it a knife.

WILLIAM FOY (Policeman M 332). I was on duty on London Bridge—I received information, ran into Joiner Street, and saw Allen struggling with Dutch, 600 or 700 yards from the bridge—I saw them running, and saw Dutch catch Allen—Desmond tried to strike Dutch, but I stopped him, and another policeman took him—I took Allen, and told him a man had been assaulted; he said "I will go with you, I have done nothing, I was only running as the crowd were following me "—no one was near him when I took him; the only person I saw running after them was Dutch—several came up after, but Dutch was the nearest.

Cross-examined. Allen said at the station he had had a row with the prosecutor, who had pushed him, and wanted to fight.

THOMAS STOCKER (Policeman M 220). On 10th September I was on duty in Maze Pond, heard a cry, "Stop him," went to Joiner Street, and saw the prisoners running—Dutch stopped Allen, and Desmond struck a blow at Dutch with a stick—I took him in custody—he said "Let me go;" I said "I will not, I will see what you have done."

JAMES WILSON (Police Sergeant M). I was on London Bridge, followed Allnutt's cab to the hospital, arid assisted him in; he was insensible, he had a cut on his head, which I saw dressed, his clothes were torn, and there was blood on them; his collar and necktie were missing—I took him to the station, where he pointed out the prisoners—I think he had been drinking, but he was not drunk; he was recovering from a heavy blow, I think, and half an hour after he was quite rational—I wrote down what Allen said; he said "He pulled off his coat to fight, and I pushed him"—Desmond said "He interfered with my friend, and I knocked him down; he got up, and I knocked him down again"—they were both sober.

Cross-examined. This is a copy of what I wrote; I have mislaid the original; I had it at the police-court, but did not refer to it—I then went into the office, and wrote it down from memory—I have made inquiries; the prisoners are respectable men—Allen was a fellowship porter two years; I have seen his certificate—Desmond has been two years in the employ of a warehouseman at Brooks's Wharf.

JOHN BEST TRAPP . I was house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I attended Attwood there on 10th September, and found on the side of his head an incised wound two inches long, going through the scalp one-eighth of an inch, but not exposing the bone—the bone there is so hard that a man's fist coming down on it might have caused it, but it was probably caused by a stick or knife.

Crow-examined. It might be caused by falling on the kerb—I said before "My opinion is that it was not caused by a knife, but it may have been"—I think he was drunk; he smelt of liquor—I don't think a glass of ale taken hours before would produce that appearance.

Re-examined, I cannot say whether any one finding him insensible, gave him brandy—the flushed, excited appearance was more likely to be caused by alcohol than by what he had undergone. NOT GUILTY .

986. THOMAS ALLEN and JOHN DESMOND were again indicted for assaulting William Attwood, and causing him actual bodily harm.

MR. POLAND offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

987. JONATHAN LOWE (37) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Joseph Wells, and stealing a watch and other articles, his property.

MR. WAITE Prosecuted.

REGINALD RICHARD WELLS . I live at 2, College Gardens, Dulwich—on 14th September I went to bed at 11 o'clock—I was the last person up, and saw all fastened up—I was called at 6 a. m., and found the library broken into, and missed two coats, a waistcoat, pair of shoes, a concertina, and a gold watch—this is the concertina and the shoes (produced)—they were safe when I went to bed—I did not lock the window, but I believe it was closed—the watch was on the mantelpiece—I know the concertina by one note, being out of tune—it is worth 3l.

ROBERT UNIACK (Police Inspector). On 15th September, at 7 a. m., I went to this house and found two entries had been effected, one in the basement by the pantry window—the iron bars were removed, and the catch of the window pushed back by some instrument, and they got into the pantry, where there were only some bottles, which were moved, but were stopped going further by the pantry door being fastened outside—they retraced their steps and got in at another window, where I found the room in disorder.

CHARLES VINEY (Detective Sergeant P). On September 19th I went to Vine Street Station, Piccadilly, and saw the prisoner and this concertina, which the prosecutor identified—I said "You will be charged with stealing this concertina and other articles from a house at Dulwich"—he said "I bought the concertina of a man for 35s., I pawned it for 30s., and sold the ticket for 5s. "—I said "Can you tell me who the man is?"—he said "No, I don't know him "—I found on him 17 pawntickets—one was for these shoes, pawned on 17th September—I redeemed them.

THOMAS CAVANAGH . I am in the service of Haws and Son, of Greville Street, Leicester Square—on 15th September, at 5 p. m., I took this concertina in pledge from the prisoner—he said he bought it at a sale—I hare known him two or three years as a dealer in secondhand clothes—he called on the 19th to pledge a coat, and I said "Where did you buy that concertina?"—he said "Of a man down the lane"—I kept him in conversation while I sent to Vine Street, and a detective came and took him.

JOHN WALTER HUNTLEY . I am assistant to Mr. Vaughan, of Upper St. Martin's Lane—these shoes were pawned on 15th September; I don't know who by, but this is one ticket.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was not there at all; I was not out of London on the 14th I have no witnesses here."

Prisoner's Defence. I am in the habit of buying things, and I bought this concertina and have had it two months. I had not been out of London for a fortnight.

GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

988. WILLIAM REED (30) and JOHN WILLIAMS (18) , Stealing a watch, chain, a ring, and purse containing 12l., of Harry Leycester Powys Keck MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and WALTER BEARD Defended

HARRY LEYCESTER POWYS KECK . I live at Knowle, Kingston Hill—on Saturday, 9th September, I went to the Lambeth Baths, at about 4. 15 p. m.—I turned round and looked at my box when I was in my bath, and I saw Reed come out of it—I then went to my box, and on looking in my hat, where I had put my property, I missed a watch and chain, a purse containing 12l., an onyx ring, and a bunch of keys—I put their value at about 20l.—I gave information of the robbery—I have not seen the property since.

Cross-examined. When I saw Reed come out of my box he went into the water at once, and I lost sight of him—he had no drawers on when he left my box; he was quite naked—I am sure he is the man—I was about three yards off—it is rather difficult to recognise a man when he is bathing, but I can swear to him—he was brought up to me before I left the bath; he had his clothes off still.

CHARLES WOODMAN . I am attendant at the baths—I saw the prisoners there between 4 and 5 o'clock on the day in question, when the prosecutor complained to me—Reed was given into custody—I saw him with these drawers on (produced) on the diving-board—I cannot say I saw him with the other prisoner—they are his own drawers.

Cross-examined. When Reed was charged he said he came in alone—I found the drawers in box No. 59—Reed occupied box 14—59 is on the opposite side of 14—these are the only drawers I saw there—any one could buy such drawers about London—I know the last witness said that the prisoner had no drawers on.

CHARLES DIBSDALE . I live at 28, Lambeth Road, and was at the baths at the time in question—I saw Reed come out of Mr. Keck's box, and go round to the urinal; and I saw Williams come out of the urinal, and go out of the baths—I did not see them together—Reed had on this pair of drawers when ho came out of the box.

Cross-examined. I did not see anybody else wearing drawers similar to these—when I saw him coming out of the prosecutor's box he had them on—he then went round to the urinal—I could not see quite into the urinal.

CHARLES WOODMAN (Re-examined). I should say that the urinal is about 18 yards from the box occupied by the prosecutor—there are 90 boxes altogether; 45 on each side-—the bath is 40 yards in length—59 is very near the centre.

PHILIP WRIGHT . I live at 16, Earl Street London Road, and am engaged

at a restaurant in Cheapside—I was with the last witness and some other boys at the Lambeth Baths at the time in question—I saw the prisoners there—they spoke on the diving-board—I saw them both standing on the board at first—I saw Reed go round into the urinal, and Williams when he was dressed walked straight out of the bath—I saw Reed take his drawers off—these are the ones—he did that after he came out of the urinal—he then went into the water—I do not know what he did with the drawers.

Cross-examined. There was a large number of swimmers there that day—I did not notice any drawers like these—I could not see right into the urinal when I was in the water—I did not see Reed speak to anybody—almost as soon as Reed went in, Williams walked straight out of the bath.

JOHN MAHONEY (Policeman L 174). At about 4.30 p. m. on the 9th September I was called to the Lambeth Baths, and Reed was given into my custody—I said, "I shall take you into custody, as you were seen in this gentleman's box"—he said, "I did not go into any box but my own. I do not know anything about it"—I said to him, "Where is the friend who was with you?"—he said, "No one was with me; I came to the baths alone "—I then took him to the station, and the charge was read to him—he said, "I had no confederate with me; I do not know anything about it"—on the morning of the 11th I attended at the police court and showed him these drawers, and said, "Do you know these drawers?"—he said, "I had no drawers. I do not know anything about them. "

Cross-examined. He was quite naked when I took him.

EDWARD JOHN LUCKING . I live at 59, Kennington Road, and am a labourer—I was at the Lambeth Baths at the time in question, and saw the prisoners there—I saw the prosecutor come out into the bath first, and they followed him about three minutes afterwards—they were talking together when they came in—I saw them walk by the prosecutor's box and look in, and then come back three boxes away from where the gentleman was—they looked in through a wicket-door—there is no curtain, and it is all open—Reed was wearing these drawers, the other prisoner had no drawers on—they went into a box, and then came on the diving-board; they got talking on the diving-board, and Williams got hold of Reed and threw him into the water; they swam half the length of the bath, then Williams got out, and Reed stopped in the water a little while, and then I did not see anything more of them until I saw Williams dressed, for he went down to the urinal first, and Reed followed him in—Reed had his drawers on—Williams came out of the urinal first, and Reed walked round the bath three boxes away from where I was; then he took off his drawers and put them in the box, and then he came out of the box and dived into the water and swam about, and then the prosecutor came out of the water and spoke to the bath attendant.

Cross-examined. I did not say the prisoners had drawers on when they first came in—I could see inside the urinal from the bath—I did not see Reed give Williams anything.

HENRY JUPE (Detective Sergeant L). On the 15th September I was keeping observation outside the Southwark Police-court during the examination, of Reed—I saw Williams walking up and down outside

from 10 a. m. until I took him into custody about 3 p. m.—he was in the company of Reed's wife, and after the case was over he went away with Reed's wife—I followed him as far as the Westminster Road, and I took him into custody at the Oxford Arms public-house, Westminster Road-—I told him he would be charged with Reed with stealing a watch from the Lambeth Baths—he said, "I do not know anything about it"—I took him to Kennington Road Police-station—he was placed amongst several others, and was identified by Lucking and Dibsdale—he was asked his address, and he gave it as 2, Grafton Court, Marylebone, and Reed's address was No. 5, Grafton Court—he refused to give his address.

Cross-examined, Reed was charged on the 9th—I was not present—Williams gave a correct address.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Williams says: "I know nothing about it. I can prove that I was at the Pitt's Head, Paddington Street, on Saturday." Reed says: "I know nothing about it."

NOT GUILTY .

989. WILLIAM REED was again indicted for stealing a watch and chain and other articles of William Bristow.

MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted; MR. W. BEARD Defended.

WILLIAM BRISTOW . I live at Sidney Road, Marsh Hill, Homerton, and am a warehouseman—on the 9th August last I was at the Albion Swimming Baths, Dalston, and on leaving the bath I missed my property, consisting of a gold watch, an Albert, 2l. in gold, and a gold diamond ring—I communicated with the proprietor of the baths—I saw nobody near my bath—this is my watch (produced)—this ring is not mine; the stone to the best of my belief is, but it has been re-set.

Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner there.

HUGH COCHRANE . I am a tobacconist, of 21, Craven Terrace, Hyde Park, and 481, Oxford Street—on the 10th August last the prisoner called on me in Oxford Street between 3 and 5 p. m. and said, "Do you want to buy a watch?"—I said, "No, I do not want particularly to buy one"—he said, "I have got one to sell, and if you want it cheap you might get a bargain"—he showed me this watch—I said, "Where did you get it from? who does it belong to?"—he said it belonged to an officer in the Army Reserve at Aldershot, who had sent a servant up to London to dispose of it—I said, "Where is the servant?"—he said, "Outside, I will show him to you if you like"—I said, "I should like to see him"—I stood inside the glass doors and looked out while he brought a man down past the door; he was of military appearance, about 24 years of age, with military trousers on—the prisoner came in and said, "You see if is all right, will you buy it?"—I said, "Take a seat, and I will send it out and have it valued "—he sat down, and I sent the watch and ring out and had them valued at a jeweller's named Watson, North Audley Street—the value was brought in to me as 7l. for the watch, and the ring was said to be of no value as it was thought to be flawed—I offered him 6l. for the watch and the ring—the prisoner said, "I get something for selling these; I will go out and ask the man if he will take what you offer"—he went out and came back and said, "If you won't give more than 6l. you can have them"—I gave him 6l. and got a receipt (produced)—this is the valuation I got from the jeweller's (produced)—with regard to the ring I discovered the same night that the stone was loose when

I put it on my finger, and I had it set in this ring—I cannot swear that this is the actual stone out of the ring the prisoner gave to me, but I gave the stone he gave me to be set—I refused to buy the chain—the watch was given up to the police—from certain impressions I formed I went to the Paddington Police-station, and there handed the watch and ring to an officer in Court; that was on the 30th August.

Gross-examined. I have known the prisoner perhaps a little more than six years—he stands at the corner of Westbourne Street and Bayswater Road selling newspapers—up to this time I have never heard of anything against him—I wrote the receipt and he wrote across the stamp—I do not deal in watches; I bought it for myself.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "A man wearing military trousers said he had fetched the watch from Aldershot, and he would give me 2s. 6d. to sell it. "

WILLIAM BRISTOW (Re-examined). I was at the bath at 8.30, and remained there about a quarter of an hour—I missed the things as soon as I got out of the water.

GUILTY** of receiving. He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been convicted of felony on the 4th October 1869, in the name of William Jones, at Clerkenwelt Sessions.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

990. ADOLPH HENRY DOWKOUTT (30) Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement on an order for payment of the sum of 20l., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

THOMAS GLOSS DAVIS . I am chaplain to Christchurch Workhouse, and am in the service of the guardians—the endorsement on this cheque drawn in my favour for 20l. is not my handwriting (produced)—it is a very good imitation of my signature, but it is rather better than my writing—I never authorised anybody to endorse the cheque—the prisoner should have returned the cheque for my endorsement——hedid not do so, but absconded—this is my receipt in my handwriting (produced).

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I recollect some conversation that took place between us at the lodge—I did not say in answer to you "Do not send the cheque to my house; if you do I shall not see it again"—I came to the lodge in the morning and asked if the guardians wanted to see me, and you said no, they only wanted to give me my cheque—I took the cheque and opened it, and made the remark that I should not be here at 11 o'clock—this was about 9 o'clock I should say, and then you said "Shall I get it for you? I generally get all the other cheques for the other officers"—I said "Very well, you get mine then," or "I wish you would get mine," or something of the kind, and you said you would—I said "I shall not be here to receive it to-night, probably, as I am going away for the day, but I shall call to-morrow morning; "—I then said I would be too late probably that night—you said "We do not go to bed as early as that, and I can leave it with some one at the gate "—I said "Never mind, probably I shall not call till to-morrow morning"—there was not a word said about endorsing it—I did not say "I could not be there to sign it"—I meant you to get the cheque, but not to cash it—I dare say I was in the house altogether over an hour—I went to see some of the inmates—you went round and showed me some of the alterations—I do not recollect saying that you could write like me—I did not say "You can sign that cheque, there is no harm in it"—I did not

say "I do not suppose you will run far with it "—I said at the police court that I may have made such a remark as that if I were a Magistrate I would punish a man more for running away with a shilling than 1,000l.—you never offered to send the cheque to my house—I have not said things in your presence that I would not like you to mention now—I have had tea with you in the lodge on one occasion—I recollect about three months ago that you gave me a letter that was left at the workhouse for another gentleman by a female—I have said that all pamphlets were to be left for me at the workhouse—the letter that you speak of I threw in the fire in your presence without opening it—I do not know the contents of it.

The Prisoner. I do not deny signing the cheque.

Re-examined. I did not get the cheque or the money.

By the Prisoner. I did not get my money on the night of the 30th of last month, because you had gone away with it, and I have not received it yet.

EBENEZER BOREHAM . I am one of the guardians of Christ Church Workhouse—on Saturday the 29th September the prisoner came to my house, and brought with him seven crossed cheques—they had been drawn by the guardians, and signed by them—he asked me to give him an open cheque for the 7l., and I did so—this was between 12 and 1 p. m.—I gave him a cheque for 59l. 4s. on my own bankers (produced)—he left with me—amongst the seven cheques this cheque in favour of the Rev. Mr. Davis for 20l.—I noticed that one particularly out of the seven—they were for the different officers engaged in the establishment.

Cross-examined. I said "You have got the chaplain's cheque"—I had no suspicion of your doing anything wrong, or I should not have let you have my cheque.

FREDERICK SMITH . I live at 1, Charlton Row, Peckham, and am a cashier at the Central Bank of London, Blackfriars Road—on the 29th September the prisoner presented this open cheque for 59l. is., and I paid him eight 5l. notes, and the rest in cash.

Gross-examined. I asked how you would take it, and you said "40l. in notes, and the remainder in gold."

EDMUND WEEKLEY . I am the master of the workhouse where the prisoner has been porter—he left the workhouse without my sanction—I was not at home, but I got home on Friday, the 29th, when I found the prisoner's room was locked, and the key taken away; finding he did not come back I had the door of the room forced, when I found that he was gone, and some clothing had been taken away—on the following day, Saturday, one of the witnesses, Langley, brought in these papers (produced)—the prisoner came back on Saturday night at 8.30, and handed to me 44l. 15s. 9d. in notes and gold—of the notes there were six of the number that the banker's clerk gave him—the prisoner said "I am very sorry for what I have done; I got a little drink, and did not know what I was doing, but I have got the officer's money with me," and then he handed me the money—at the same time he gave me some boxes—the musical box he said was worth 7l. there were three boxes and a parcel, but the boxes have not been opened—I sent for the chaplain, and I took the prisoner round to the station myself after I had been to the chairman's house on the 30th.

Cross-examined. When you came back you were sober—you wrote last week about the key of the room, and it has been found where you stated it

was—you have been away a night before with the permission of the guardians—you were away ill once for ten weeks; you went away for a fortnight, and at the end of that time you sent a medical certificate from Portsmouth, and the Board from time to time granted you an extension of leave.

JOSEPH HELSON (Police Sergeant L). At 11 o'clock on Saturday, the 30th September, I saw the prisoner detained at Kennington Road Station—I read the warrant to him, charging him with forging and uttering a cheque for 20l—I found this letter on him (Read: "Dear Father,—Just a few lines to tell you I am just leaving London. I send you 30s. P. O. O., payable at Landport, and I hope it will be of service to you. I am going down to Liverpool, and shall try and get away from there. Dear Nelly did not come, but I expect a letter from her this morning and one from you. Accept my fondest love, and believe me your fond and affectionate son, A. Dowkoutt. Be sure and burn this after you have read it. But on second thoughts I will send you stamps, as an order may be difficult Good-bye, dear father. God bless you is my only prayer.") I said "I see by this letter you express your intention of going away from there to Liverpool"—he said "Yes, and I have been to Liverpool"—I said "You told Mrs. Butler yesterday when you took your boxes from there that you were going to an asylum for lunatics"—he made some remark to the Magistrate afterwards that was taken down.

Cross-examined. You did not object to being searched—I understood you had been at the station about one hour and a half when I saw you there.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ELIZABETH LANGLEY . On the 29th September you came into Miss Gowlett's room, and handed me my cheque—you said "The chaplain has asked me to sign his cheque," and I saw you sign it here (pointing)—I gave you something to drink.

Cross-examined. The 29th was Friday, and it was about 11.30 when he came with the cheques—I gave him a receipt that he might get my cheque, which he did—this is it (produced)—it is crossed—he did not bring me the money for it until he came back, and was given into custody—I did not know that he was going to Liverpool.

ANNIE GOWLETT . I am a nurse at the workhouse—what you have said passed between you and Elizabeth Langley is correct.

Cross-examined. I signed a receipt for him to get my cheque, and he asked me to sign my name so that he could get my money—he never brought me my money till he returned from Liverpool, and was given into custody—when I found the prisoner did not return at night I spoke of it to the master.

The prisoner, in his defence, admitted endorsing the cheque, but maintained that he did so with the authority of the prosecutor, and that forgery never entered his mind.

NOT GUILTY .

There was another indictment against the prisoner, on which MR. WILLIAMS offered no evidence, and a verdict of

NOT GUILTY was taken.

Before Mr. Justice Williams.

991. HENRY BEAUCHAMP (30) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a tobacco pouch of Richard John Askew.

992. HENRY BEAUCHAMP (30) was again indicted for feloniously setting fire to a stack of wheat, the property of John Coe.

MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

RICHARD JOHN ASKEW . I am the landlord of the White Horse, Shere, in the county of Surrey—the prisoner was at my house on 18th September, and left about a quarter to 5 in the evening—I have made this plan (produced)—it correctly shows the path across the fields from my house to Gomshall Station, also the main road from the same place to the same round Frank's Corner, past the Black Horse to the station—it is quite correct as far as I know—I am not a surveyor, but I have passed my examination at Kensington, and have a master's certificate for drawing—I know how to measure and survey—this is merely a rough sketch—the way across the fields is a little farther round than the main road—it goes past Mr. Coe's rick and Mr. Farhall's farm, and also past some ricks of Mr. Farhall's—there is a level railway crossing about 150 yards from Mr. Farhall's rick; that is marked on the plan.

EDWARD FARHALL . I am a farmer, and live at Shere—on Monday evening, 18th September, about 20 minutes to 6 I was near my house, and saw the prisoner coming down the corner from the direction of the heath—I had a friend with me—the moment the prisoner saw me he turned round in a most suspicious manner, so much so, that we stood still and looked at him—he turned round, and went away again towards the heath, which is about half a mile from my house, not in the direction of the station, but quite the contrary direction—the next thing I saw was Mr. Coe's rick on fire—that was between me and the station, and directly after, within two or three minutes, I saw my own rick on fire—Mr. Coes rick was in a field to the right of the path going towards the station—my rick was farther on, also on the right of the path towards Gomshall Station—the distance between my rick and Mr. Coe's was about 300 or 400 yards—that was the last I saw of the prisoner.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. It was about 20 minutes to 6 when I saw you—you were about 16 or 17 yards away—I did not speak to you—when you turned round you went in the direction of the heath.

By the COURT. I did not know him before—he was quite a stranger to me—it was quite light at the time.

ALFRED FELLOWES . I am a bricklayer, living at Gomshall—about 10 minutes to 6 on the evening of 18th September I was going through the fields on my way home from work—I was between Mr. Farhall's house and Mr. Coe's rick—I saw the prisoner coming up from the path leading from the church—that is a cross path leading into the path that runs across the fields to Gomshall Station—he stepped across the other path leading to Gomshall, and went straight up to Mr. Coe's stack, and went round the left-hand side of it—I was coming the same way as he was—I had a good opportunity of seeing him—I have no doubt he is the man—I did not notice the rick on fire till after I got home—I could see the rick plainly from my kitchen window—I live in Queen Street, Gomshall—I saw the fire from my window—I should think that was about eight minutes after I had seen the prisoner go round the rick—on seeing it, I went back, and saw that portion of the rick was on fire where I had seen the prisoner—shortly afterwards I saw another fire at Mr. Farhall's—at half past 6 I went with Police-constable Finch to the railway station at

Gum hall and there identified the prisoner—it is about 700 yards from Mr. Coe's stack to the station.

Cross-examined. You were going the same way as me—after you came up the path I passed you—I left you at the stack.

By the COURT. The stack is surrounded by a hedge, but it is away from it—he did not go over the hedge; he came through the pathway in the same field as the stack was—there was nothing between the stack and the path; you step from the path to the stack—it is barely 40 yards from the path—he did not go out of my sight, not when he went round the stack, because as I walked on I could see him—I had my back to him then—I did not turn round to look at him—I don't know what became of him—I did not suspect any mischief; I thought, perhaps, he was going there for a certain purpose.

SARAH JELLY . I am the wife of Edward Jelly, and live at Albury Heath—on Monday, 18th September, about 5.55 p. m., I was crossing the fields to Gomshall Station with my daughter; I was carrying a box—as I went along the path that runs through Mr. Coe's field where the rick was, I saw the prisoner round the rick; he was close to it—I continued my walk through the path until I got to Mr. Farhall's field—I stopped there to rest—there is a hedge there dividing the two fields, just about half way between the two fields—while resting there I looked round and saw the prisoner—he stooped down to pick up his overcoat—he was close to the rick—he put on his overcoat and walked round the rick—when he got round the other side he moved away from the rick and looked around, and in an instant the rick was on fire, and I saw him run away down into the same footpath I had come along—he stopped at a little gate leading into Mr. Farhall's field, which I had come through, and came into the field; he did not pass us—I continued my way on to the railway station, where I saw Constable Finch take the prisoner into custody about 6.30 p. m.

Cross-examined. I was about 300 yards from the rick when I saw you—I said 150 yards at Guildford—after that you were behind me, and I did not see you any more till I saw you at the station—I saw you come into the same path I was in—I saw you from the wicket gate.

GEORGE HENRY HYDE . I am a gateman in the employ of the South eastan railway company the level crossing at Gomshall—at a little before 6 o'clock on 18th September I saw the prisoner—he came up the line to cross the railroad; he came from the direction of the path that leads across the fields to the station from Mr. Farhall's yard, but he was going across the contrary way towards Ewhurst (Referring to the, plan)—he came across the line to go through the little gate, and I said "It's a nice day, sir"—he said "Yes," and said he had lost his way, and he asked me which was the. way to Gomshall Station—I said "You are going the wrong way altogether; there is Gomshall Station"—we could see it, and I pointed out the way to him—he said "I have just come from Shere, and I have lost my way"—I then went to my house, and as I went up the slant I saw Mr. Farhall's rick on fire right in front of me—the farm is about 150 yards from my house.

Cross-examined. My house is the best part of half a mile from Mr. Askew's—when I saw you it was about 10 or 12 minutes past 6 o'clock—I had just sent the 6 o'clock train past; it was light

Prisoner. I never spoke to him—I had been there six months, and it is a funny thing that I should not know my way to Gomshall.

Witness. Those were the last words he spoke to me—I did not know him before—I am sure he is the man, because I stood talking to him.

WILLIAM FINCH (Surrey Constabulary 22). On 18th September, at 6. 10 p. m., I received information in consequence of which I went in the direction of Mr. Coe's rick—I found it encircled in flames—at the same time I saw another rick on fire at Mr. Farhall's at Gravelpits Farm—I went there and received some information, and then went to Gomshall Station—I saw the prisoner there on the down platform about 6.30 p. m. and the witness Fellowes—I said to him in the prisoner's presence "Is that the man you saw at the rick?"—he said "Yes, that is the man"—I then took the prisoner on one side and asked him his name twice; he did not give it me—I then charged him with setting fire to Mr. Coe's wheat stack—he made no reply, and I took him into custody—on the left shoulder and hip of his overcoat I found a quantity of seeds, chaff, and small pieces of straw and buzzy things such as you would get from a rick—I conveyed him to Guildford by train—on the way he said it was foolish to chastise him for setting tire to the ricks—he said that on more than one occasion—ha said he had taken a third-class return ticket from Guildford, and had been down to Dick Askew's that morning—I saw him deliver up his third-class return ticket at Guildford Station—on the way to the police-station he kept inquiring how much farther it was—I said "Not much farther"—on getting close to the County Police-station there is a narrow passage—I said "This is the way"—he was then in the centre of the high-road, and as soon as I said "This is the way,"he bolted and ran in the direction of Stoke—I ran after him and caught him in about 100 yards—I then put the cuffs on him and took him to the station, and when I took the cuffs from him at the station, he had this knife (produced) in his right hand—I saw his hand before he ran away, ho had nothing in it then—he must have got it when he ran away; it was not open—I searched him and found two boxes and a half of lucifer matches; they were partly full, one containing more than the other—there were three boxes, but one was broken about and only contained a few—I also found some loose matches in his pocket.

Cross-examined. When I arrested you at the railway station I gave you a touch and said "I want to speak to you round the corner"—you said "Speak to me!"—I said "Yes," and then I called Fellowes's attention to you and said "You will be charged with setting; fire to the rick"—you made no reply to that—you did not ask me where and ask me to show you, nor did you say "I know nothing about it"—you did say "Where?" you refresh my memory now, and I said "Mr. Coe's, down here, where you came along. "

CHARLES WALTER BARKER . I am Deputy Chief Constable of the Surrey Constabulary—the prisoner was brought in custody to my office I entered the charge against him and read it over to him—he said "It is a mistake, I never left the road at all; when I came out of Askew's I went past Frank's shop to the Black Horse at Gomshall"——Frank's shop is at the corner of the main road on the way to the station—he would have to pass the Black Horse.

JOHN COE . I am a farmer at Abinger—I have a farm called High House Farm, at Shere—on that farm there was a wheat rick on 18th September; it stood about 30 or 40 yards from the pathway across the

fields—I have not measured it—the path runs along the side of the hedge and the rick is in that field—it was burnt on Monday night, the 18th; the value of it was about 200l.; it was nearly all destroyed—you go along the path past my rick and come to a gate leading into Mr. Farhall's field; you can get to Gomshall Station that way—I should say it would take from 18 to 20 minutes to walk by that route from the White Horse to Gomshall Station—I have never timed it, but if I was going it would take me that time—it would not take me from 5 to 6.30—I do not know anything of the prisoner, only from what I have heard since the fire—he is a perfect stranger to me—I can give no suggestion why he should have done this.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I don't wish to say anything more that what I have said."

RICHARD JOHN ASKEW (Re-examined). I have known the prisoner for some time—I suppose I am sometimes known as Dick Askew by most people—I should not think the prisoner knew me sufficiently well to speak of me as Dick Askew; I should be surprised at his doing so—he was not in my service—I knew him at the time he was living as groom to the Duke of Northumberland, who lives about ten minutes' walk from my house—the prisoner used to come occasionally to my house with other grooms; that was how I knew him, but only in that way—he came to my house on the afternoon of 18th September and had some bread and cheese and ale there—I served him with it—he said he had left the service and had come over for a holiday—he paid for what he had—I saw him leave at about 5 o'clock—my house is about 400 or 500 yards from Mr. Coe's rick, but there is a nearer way by the path, that would be about 300 yards—when he. left my house he turned to the right in the direction of Mr. Farhall's, towards the heath, the opposite way to the station—(Referring to the plan) he went in this direction—that would lead to the rick.

Prisoner's Defence. When I came out of Mr. Askew's I went down the main road, and when I got as far as the Black Horse I had two glasses of ale and stopped there some little time, and from there I went to the station to wait for the train and the policeman arrested me.

GUILTY . There was another indictment against the prisoner for setting fire to Mr. Farhall's rick, and Constable Barker stated that he was suspected of another similar offence, and that he had been dismissed from the service of lard Onslow on the Saturday precious to the fire in question. — Five Years' Penal Servitude.

993. JAMES HUNTER ROSS (42) was indicted for a rape on Jemima Boss.

MR. DOUGLAS Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

994. JOHN WEBBER (45) for a rape on Mary Martin MR. JONES LEWIS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

995. HARRY WILLIAMSON (50) , Unlawfully and carnally knowing and abusing Mary Dowers, aged 12.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

996. JAMES PAGET (43) , Feloniously carnally knowing and abusing Mary Ann Buckley, aged 10.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted.

GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

997. SARAH BEAGLEY (38) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the wilful murder of May Mary Beagley.

MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended. EDWARD GREEN. I am a carpenter, at Riddlesdown Road, near Croydon—on 24th September I saw the prisoner walking to and fro in a field with a baby in her arms—after a while she came out of the field into the high road, walked up the road a little way, and then went back into the field and sat down on a short post, changed the infant's cloth, threw it behind her, and placed another one on it—she then got up and looked at the baby's face—I saw that it looked very pale; I was within six yards of it—she walked across the field, and still kept wandering up and down the field by the side of the railroad, first looking at the railroad and then at the high road—I made a communication to the police, and went with him—I did not see him uncover the child's face—I saw it in her arms—she said she had choked it—she looked very strange.

Cross-examined. It was the strangeness of her manner that first called my attention to her—I had not known her before—she was carrying the baby in her arms as a woman would nurse a live child.

PATRICK BYRNE (Policeman N 207). The last witness made a communication to me, and I went into a field and saw the prisoner carrying something in her arms—I asked her what she had in her arms—she said "My baby"—I asked her to let me see it—she took a pocket-handkerchief from across its face, and I saw that it was dead—she said "I have choked it with a pocket-handkerchief. I tied it round the poor little thing's neck. I did not want it to suffer as I have. I slept at a coffeehouse at the junction last night, and I carried the baby about with me all day. If you had not come I was going to do away with myself to-night when it got dark. "She took this pocket-handkerchief from her pocket, and said "That is the pocket-handkerchief I done it with"—I took her into custody, and took her to the police-station, where she was seen by Inspector Harris and Dr. Rosser.

Cross-examined. She carried the child to the station in her arms in the same way—when I first saw her she was standing in the field—she said "Don't take me; let me stop till dark, and I will do away with myself"—I saw her husband at the inquest; he is a bricklayer—I went to the address she gave, 2, Silverdale Cottages, Saunderstead Road, on Sunday evening, about 7.30, but there was no one in, and when I got back to the station the husband was there—I did not go back to the house—the husband was in work—the prisoner was decently dressed; there was no appearance of destitution about her or about the house—they seemed in a very comfortable position for their class of life.

ELIJAH HARRIS (Police Inspector W). I was at the station when Byrne brought the prisoner in—she was cautioned by the acting inspector, and then made this statement, which I took down. (Read: "It is my child. It is dead. I done it. I have had a lot of trouble. I have been drove about all over the world. I have had a deal of worry and upset on account of my family. My husband struck me before the child was six

weeks old. My head has been very bad ever since. At times I don't know what I am doing. I slept at a coffee-shop at Croydon. I choked it with a pocket-handkerchief. It was in bed with me all night. At 8 o'clock this morning I dressed it and wrapped it in a shawl. I carried it about all day. Feeling tired, I laid it down in a field, when two men must have seen me, or they would not have come there. I picked it up again, and intended to wait till evening and give myself up. I don't want to be hung. It is happy, that is more than I have been. ") That was read over to her, and she said "That is quite true"—when I took the child from her she became excited, and clung to it—her husband stepped forward to assist me—I told her I should have to take it—she was crying, and said "You won't hurt the poor little dear"—I said "No," and she gave it up.

Cross-examined. She spoke as if she was under the impression that the child was still alive—she was at the station before I arrived—I found her sitting with the child in her lap, as any one might have been nursing a live child—I have made inquiries about her—I went to the house, but it was shut up—I found that the husband was at work somewhere away from home—there was no appearance of destitution about the cottage, or from inquiries I have made—the man was in constant work, and earning good wages—they have four other children—I did not see them; they have been sent to friends—I made inquiries of a person who knew the prisoner well, and heard that she kept to herself, and was always at home—she has been married about 12 years to her present husband—I did not hear anything about her having had a former husband—I have heard that her husband is very good to her—I never heard that he struck her, quite the reverse.

By the COURT. I thought her manner very strange; she was rather indifferent; she did not seem to realise it—she was not like a person in her right mind.

WALTER ROSSER , M. D., and surgeon at Croydon. On the afternoon of the 24th I was called to the police-station at Croydon, and found the prisoner there and a female child—I examined it; it was dead—I subsequently made a post-mortem examination—I found marks of compression by a ligature on each side of the neck, low down, extending from the front to the back of the neck, such as would be produced by a pocket-handkerchief—the brain was congested—the other organs were all healthy—the stomach contained a small quantity of partially digested milk—the cause of death was the congestion produced by the compression—it was a well nourished child—I examined the prisoner; she was exceedingly strange, apparently unconscious of what she had done, or the magnitude of the crime she had committed—she told me that she had been very unhappy, that she had had sleepless nights for some weeks, with great pain in her head, that her husband had struck her when the child was six weeks old, and she had not been able for shame to hold her head up since, and her only object in strangling the child was that it should not live to be as unhappy as she had been.

Cross-examined. She was very depressed, and appeared unconscious of having done anything wrong; I think she was just awaking to the fact, but she had evidently been unconscious—I have said she was not responsible for her actions—I think so now; that she is not in her light mind—I think the idea of her husband having struck her is a delusion—the child was four months old: she was still suckling it.

CLARA MORGAN . I am the wife of Joseph Morgan, a coffee-house keeper at Caterham—on the night of 23rd September the prisoner came and asked if she could have a bed; I let her have a room—she had a child with her; it was then alive—she slept there that night, and left between 9 and 10 next morning—I did not see the child in the morning, it had its face covered over with a pocket. Handkerchief—I asked her if it was asleep; she said "Yes"—I said she was a good little thing; she said "Yes, she is always good"—she took it away with her—I did not hear it cry in the night, only when first taken to bed.

Cross-examined. Saunderstead Road is about 20 minutes walk from my house—I did not know the prisoner before—she paid for her bed and for her breakfast, and she had some tea at night and paid for it—she did not NOT GUILTY on the ground of insanity. — To be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.

Before Mr. Recorder.

998. HENRY TICKNER (26) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas Dartnall, and stealing a shoulder of mutton and other goods.

MR. ST AUBYN Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

THOMAS DARTNALL . I am a butcher, of London Street, Kingston-on-Thames—on 29th August, about 9 p. m., I locked up my shop and saw that everything was safely fastened up—about 12.45 I was awoke by a noise downstairs—I afterwards heard a hook fall on to the boards in the shop—I jumped out of bed, and ran to the window—I heard a scampering on the path and as I threw the window up, being a clear night, I saw a man rimning towards the railway, which is about 80 yards from my house—in a few minutes I heard some one talking by the railway—on reaching out of the window and looking I saw a policeman and a porter—I called them down to look in front of the shop—I came down, and saw the shutters were down—I missed a leg of lamb, a shoulder of mutton, a piece of sirloin of beef—in a narrow neck of garden adjoining the railway these three joints were found.

Cross-examined. My shop is not in a curve, but in a straight road—the meat was found, some on the other side of the railway, and two joints on Side—I was in bed at 10 o'clock—I did not take particular notice of the time till I looked at the clock when I went back to dress myself.

HENRY JAMES POPJOY . I am a porter in the service of the London and South—Western Railway at Norbiton Station—the last train from London due at 12.32, but it comes in occasionally at 12.40; when it has passed it is my duty to put the lights in the station out, and after that the light It a distance signal—on my return from putting the distance signal light out I saw the prisoner lying close to the little bridge; I had not seen him on going to the signal if he had been there I must have seen him, as I was walking in the six-foot way, but came back on the far side—I said "Halloa what are you up to here?" he said in a confused tone "I do not know, is—Baker gone home?"—I said "No, he is waiting for me, shall I call out to him?" he said "Never mind about that," and slid down the bank; so I went down the bank, said "Good night" to him, and went in the direction where I meet my mate—while I was standing at the bridge waiting the prisoner came up, and we walked together, and I saw my mate standing

against Dartnall's shop; I saw the reflection of his can—I found a burglary had been committed—the prisoner seemed in a confused state, but while we were at Dartnall's shop I did not like to say anything—the prisoner left us at the Elton Road—in consequence of a conversation I had with Baker I went back to the embankment—at the London Road Bridge, where the prisoner had been lying, I saw something white in a little garden; I went down, and found a leg of lamb, a shoulder of mutton, and a piece of beef—that was on the opposite side of the railway to Dartnall's shop.

Cross-examined. I do this late duty every other week, when I walk down the line every night—I do not remember seeing the prisoner before—I have not been at Norbiton two years—the pathway is public; it goes under the embankment—there is a track down the embankment on to it which is used by platelayers and other men to get into the roadway—I went down the embankment a little farther up—people not accustomed to the track will slip down if they do not mind—Baker is employed at Norbiton signalbox—I and Baker usually walk home together—he meets me near about 50 yards from where the prisoner was—I told the prisoner to go off the bank, he had no right there—it is about 80 yards, I have found since, from the bridge to where the prisoner was—two season-ticket holders came by the train—no one left by it; it only goes to Kingston—the nearest road is the London Road—what we call the Clifton Road is at the end of the alley, where you go down the public footpath.

FREDERICK BAKER . I am a signalman at Norbiton station—on 29th August I was in my signal-box until the arrival of the last train, at 12. 33—I locked up my box and walked down the road to meet Popjoy—I heard a bell ring and some one shout "Police!" I ran 15 or 16 yards to the prosecutor's shop, when I found the shop windows open, and the prosecutor had come downstairs with a light—my mate Popjoy came from under the arch where I promised to meet him, and the prisoner accompanied him—we stayed there a few minutes, and went home—while looking at the shutters the prosecutor said "Some one must have broken them in who was pretty well used to the work;" but he did not know what amount of meat he had lost—the prisoner only said he could not see where they had broken the shutters—he did not seem strange to me—he left me and Popjoy—in consequence of a conversation I had with Popjoy I went back to the embankment and searched—I found three joints of meat—I have known the prisoner for years; he was a porter on the South-Western Railway—he would know the locality.

Cross-examined. I have an iron foot in my signal-box—I have lent it to the prisoner—I use it to nail my boots on—I had met Baker before that week on night duty—the prisoner could come and see me on duty if he wanted—the track on the embankment is used by platelayers—it leads down to the ganger's house, and you can get out into the road—where the prisoner was found is near a public footpath—the late train varied in its time.

JAMES KEEPING (Policeman VR 21). On 29th August, about 10 p. m., the prisoner left the police-station and went to the right towards the prosecutor's shop, which would be about half a mile, or seven or eight minutes' walk—he was not sober.

Cross-examined. Where I saw him was nearer to Kingston than Norbiton.

JOHN CROUCHER (Police Inspector V). On 29th Aug., about 12.45 p. m., I received information of a burglary at Mr. Dartnall's shop—Mr. Dartnall pointed out how he had found the shutters—they were up when I got there—in consequence of information I received I apprehended the prisoner—he said he knew nothing about it, and that lie had been drinking overnight.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I strictly deny the charge. I walked up from the goods station at Kingston-on-Thames on the line towards Norbiton on the night of the robbery. "

NOT GUILTY .

999. THOMAS WILLIAM WENHAM (21) , Feloniously wounding James Macnamara, with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.

MR. WILLS Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended. After the case was opened the prisoner stated that he wished to PLEAD GUILTY, and the Jury on that statement returned a verdict of GUILTY . He received a good character, and attributed his fall to having broken the pledge, which he took three years ago, having been four months in the Blue Ribbon Army.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

1000. CHARLES CARTIE (20) , Robbery with violence on James Puckett, and stealing 5s., his money.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted.

JAMES PUCKETT . I am a seaman, and live at 60, Lant Street, Borough—on Saturday, 23rd September, about 11.30, I was going along the street—I was perfectly sober—I had my hand in my pocket—four men came up, an arm was put round my neck, and I was thrown on my back—two of the men rifled my pockets and took two half-crowns, all the money I had, from the right-hand trousers pocket—I saw the prisoner rifling my pockets—I gave a description of him—I saw him in custody the same night—I identified him from four others—I discerned his features and his torn things—he was wearing a hat and a black coat.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had no conversation with the detectives in the back room—I never saw you before.

THOMAS PICKLES (Police Sergeant M). The prosecutor gave me information of the robber; and from his description I took the prisoner into custody—I told him I should take him to the station for identification for being concerned with others in assaulting a man and stealing 5s. from him—he said "All right, I will go with you"—at the station he was placed with five others; the prosecutor was called, and picked him out—he was put in the dock and charged, when he said "If I had known it had been coming to this you would not have got me here; I was ill in bed at the time, and I can call plenty of witnesses to prove it. "

GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony at this Court in June, 1881, in the name of Charles Denny.— Two Years' Hard Labour.

1001. ELIZABETH TILLEY (20) , Feloniously wounding Walter Thomas Harris, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. FOSTER READ Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.

ANTHONY GRANT (Policeman M 315). On 1st October, about 12. 15, in Bermondsey Street, the prosecutor complained to me—I saw blood running down his neck—he pointed out the prisoner, and I crossed over to her—she

said, "Yes, I did it, that is not half bad enough for him, if it is for four years to come I will do for him"—Mr. Harris handed me this knife—I took the prisoner into custody.

WALTER THOMAS HARRIS . I am a dispenser at Bermondsey—I knew the prisoner from a year ago last March—on 30th September I was returning home shortly after midnight—the prisoner came and said, "Oh, here you are," and followed me; I passed on; she said, "You threatened to give me in charge"—I said, "I shall certainly do so if you annoy me"—she then passed behind the entrance to my residence, the side door—I found a constable—she made several lunges, and struck me in the neck; I was not then aware that she had struck me with a knife—then she struck me in the face, and I pulled the knife out from my eye, where it was sticking firmly—I called a constable and told him what had occurred—she had crossed the road—she was given into custody—my wound was dressed and I went home—I was perfectly sober.

Gross-examined. She walked with me about four minutes; nothing was said about a child then—I had been summoned before the Croydon Magistrates on 23rd January on a bastardy summons; that was dismissed, the Magistrate said there was no corroboration—I did not notice the prisoner eating an apple when she came up, I am almost certain she was not; I did not observe her hands specially—I told her to go away; I pushed her, but not till she ran at me, when I kept her away—that was before she spoke to the policeman.

JOHN GITTENS . I am a surgeon at Horselydown—I was called to the police-station to see the prosecutor on 1st October—he was suffering from a stab on the left cheek just below the eyeball, and another on the left side of the neck just below the ear, about half an inch from the carotid artery—the stab on the neck was bleeding a great deal, and I had some trouble in stopping it—this is the penknife—the prosecutor seems to be getting on right as far as I am able to judge at present, unless other symptoms from a deeper injury appear—he was in great danger—he is better now and improving.

THOMAS BIGGS (Police Sergeant M). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought there—just before the charge was taken she said to the prosecutor, "If it is for four years to come I will do for you; you got me in the family way; the next girl you seduce I hope will serve you worse than I have; perhaps you will pay to your boy now. "

GUILTY. The Jury recommended her to mercy on the ground of great provocation.—Judgment respited.

Before Mr. Recorder.

1002. PHILIP BROAD (32) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for feloniously forging and uttering certain deeds of conveyance, with intent to defraud, also to unlawfully obtaining various sums by virtue of the said deeds.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. And

1003. WILLIAM ADLUM (40) to unlawfully conspiring with others to cheat and defraud the London and South-Western Railway Company, his masters. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

1004. WILLIAM ADLUM (40) was again indicted, together with JOHN GRACE (38) , for stealing certain railway passenger tickets on 26th July and 6th May, of the said Company, the masters of Adlum Second count, for feloniously receiving the same.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted. THOMAS HOUGHTON. I live at 48, Grant Road, Clapham Junction—I am employed in the police department of the London and South-Western Railway—in July last, from instructions I received, I was watching Grace—on Monday, 24th, I saw him in the Hero of Waterloo public-house, Waterloo Road, with a number of racing; men—he was in conversation with them—I could not see what he was doing, there were a great many persons in the bar—I heard him ask some one "What class do you want?"—that was all I heard then—on the 26th I saw him again at the same public-house—I followed him from there to the Fentiman Road, South Lambeth—he sat on the stones there for about twenty minutes—Adlum then came up and Grace crossed the road to him—they were in conversation for a few minutes—I saw Adlum take something from his pocket and hand it to Grace; it appeared to be a small parcel; he could close it in his hand—they then separated; Grace went back to the Waterloo Road—next day, the 27th, I saw Grace again at the same public-house—I followed him—he went into the Waterloo station—he did nothing there—he spoke to no one—from there he went to Fentiman Road—Adlum met him there again at the same place; they were in conversation for a few minutes—I saw Adlum pass something to Grace—it appeared to be a small parcel that he could close in his hand similar to the other—that was all I saw—it was about 2.30 the first day, and about 2 o'clock the second.

THOMAS BRISBANE EWELL . I am now employed in the police department of the London and South-Western Railway—I live at 276, City Road—on 18th July, in consequence of something that took place between myself and another man on the racecourse, I communicated with the railway company, and from that time was employed by them—on 19th July I went to Winchester Races by the instruction of Superintendent Hoskisson—I saw Spincer and Grace there—Grace was offering railway return tickets to London for sale—I was quite close to him—he offered me one and asked me half-a-crown for it—I offered him two shillings—he refused and said it was the only one left, and I had better take it, or I should have to pay the full fare—I did not purchase it—I saw it—it was a ticket from Southampton to London, a return half—shortly afterwards I communicated with Inspector Bowles at the station—on 28th July I was at Goodwood Races by the Superintendent's instructions, watching Grace there—I saw him sell a large quantity of tickets—I was quite close to him—I obtained one myself—they were return halves—I saw money pass in exchange for them—it was 2s—two or three days previous to that he had had 2s. from me—that was at the Hero of Waterloo, close to the Waterloo Station—I was watching him there, and he asked me to treat him, and I let him have 2s. in money besides pacing for different letters, and he promised me a ticket for it—he said he was expecting some, that he was going at 2 o'clock to meet a man coming off duty—he did not say who he was—this (produced) is the ticket I received from him on the 28th—it is a third-class return half ticket from Southampton to Waterloo, dated July 27th—on that evening I again communicated with Inspector Bowles—I was at the Midhurst station that evening, and saw several persons who had purchased tickets asking for short tickets to take them on to the next station—that was to Liss—I saw those persons pass through the barrier, giving up those short tickets—I travelied up in

the train with some of those persons who had bought the half-tickets—they destroyed them as they were going up—I obtained three or four of them as they were about to throw them out of the window—I asked them to let me have them—they did not know who I was—I cannot say what tickets they gave up at Vauxhall, because I had changed carriages before I got there.

WILLIAM BOWLES . I am travelling Inspector on the South-Western Railway—on 19th July I was on duty at Winchester races—I received a communication from Ewell, and was afterwards on duty at the ticket barrier—I had occasion to stop a passenger for attempting to pass the barrier with a return ticket from Ryde to Waterloo—I took it from him and he paid his fare and left me the ticket—on 28th July I was on duty at Midhurst station for Goodwood—I received a communication that day from Ewell, and on that occasion I stopped three passengers at the barrier who held return half-tickets from Portsmouth to Waterloo—I took the tickets from them, and they paid the fare—of course at Vauxhall they could not tell where the passenger joined the train.

FRANCIS BOSWELL (Detective L). On 4th September I went with Inspector Chamberlain to Vauxhall Railway Station—about 2 o'clock in the day I saw Adlum—he was a ticket collector at that station—I saw him leave the station and go down the South Lambeth Road into the Fentiman Road—I followed him—I there saw Grace standing under a dead wall on the opposite side of the road—directly he saw Adlum he crossed over the road and went into a back turning that leads to some almshouses where there is a small fence—I saw them speak to each other, and I saw Adlum hand something with his right hand to Grace over the little fence, and put down his hand into his left-hand pocket—he put up-his hand again, and I saw Adlum go from him to another fence that adjoins the little iron one, and there a piece of paper was put up against it, and he appeared to be writing on it—he then returned it to Grace—Grace came out of the turning and crossed sharply over the road, and went as fast as he could up the Fentiman Road into the Clapham Road—I followed him to Kennington Park and there stopped him, and said that I should take him to the station and detain him till Inspector Chamberlain arrived, and I should search him, as I believed he had railway tickets in his possession—he said "I have got nothing; I do not know what you mean"—on the way to the station, in consequence of some movement that he made, I seized his left hand, opened it, and found two half return tickets wrapped up in this small piece of newspaper—one is a return half from Dorchester to Waterloo, dated 17th August, and the other is a return half from Semly to Waterloo, dated 15th August—when I took it from him he said "I am doing nothing"—at the station I found on him this piece of paper with an address written on it, "32, Meadow Road, Fentiman Road, Clapham, London"—it was a similar piece to that upon which I saw Adlum writing against the fence—I afterwards ascertained that was Adlum's address.

Cross-examined by Adlum. I was within ten yards of you at the time; I could have touched you on one occasion.

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Inspector L). I was with the last witness at Vauxhall Station, about 2 o'clock, and saw Adlum leave the station—shortly afterwards I saw Grace in the Fentiman Road, and I saw him meet Adlum at the station—Boswell handed me this piece of paper containing

these two tickets (produced)—he said in Grace's presence" I saw this piece of paper containing these tickets handed by Adlum to Grace; I saw him put it into his left-hand trousers pocket. Coming down Clapham Road he took it out as if going to throw it away. I seized his hand and took it out"—I then said "Grace, we have been keeping observation upon you, and you will be charged now with being concerned with Adlum in stealing these tickets, and also receiving them"—he said "I picked these tickets up in the street"—I said "When and what street did you pick them up in?"—he made no reply—among the papers found on Grace I saw this one with the address on it of 32, Meadow Road—I went there and saw Adlum; he was living there—I said to him "You know me"—he said "Yes, I do"—I said "A man named Grace has just been taken into custody for receiving some tickets from you belonging to your employers. I shall take you into custody for stealing these tickets"—he said "You don't mean that?"—I said "Yes, we have been keeping observation upon you for some time"—he asked me to allow him to take off his uniform coat and waistcoat and put on plain clothes—I said "Certainly"—he did so—I felt in the pockets of his uniform waistcoat, which he threw on the bed, and found 14 return tickets from various parts of the country on the South Western Line—an other uniform waistcoat was hanging behind the door, and I found in that 11 return half tickets to various parts on the line, and in other pockets I found others, altogether 39, all return halves—I think as to 12 or 13 of them the date had not expired—I said "How do you account for having all these tickets in your pocket?"—he made no answer at the time, but afterwards he said "I did not think there were so many as that; I intended to take them back"—I took him to the station—he there saw Grace and I said "You know him, Adlum?"—he said "Oh yes, I know him very well. "

Cross-examined by Adlum. I believe you were in your shirtsleeves when I came to your house—I found all these tickets in your bedroom and upon your person, but some in the waistcoat you took off.

CHARLES RILEY . I am chief ticket collector at Vauxhall Station—Adlum has been employed there about 12 years as ticket collector—the ticket collectors have no authority whatever to take away from the station tickets which they have collected—they should take them into the office and put them on the desk to be entered and sent to the office—tourist tickets would be taken to the same office—ordinary tickets are sorted on a bench; tourist tickets are put on a desk—they should all be taken into the office and sorted by the man in charge—I know Grace—I have seen him travelling on the line on several occasions, and frequently at other times round by the station—I have seen him in company with Adlum there, I should say more than a dozen times, extending over a month.

Cross-examined by Adlum. The last time would be perhaps 12 months ago, just outside the station in Kennington Lane—a collector might accidentally put tickets into his pocket if he was busy—I don't think it likely—I can't say I have not done so; no doubt it is done sometimes.

ALFRED LOCKYER . I am booking clerk at the Waterloo Station—on 17th August I issued this second class return tourist ticket from Waterloo to Dorchester, No. 382—this is the return half of that ticket—the price of it was 1l. 10s., available for two months.

ARTHUR STACEY . I am a booking clerk at the Waterloo Station—on 15th August I issued a return ticket, No. 1412, from Waterloo to Semly, available for a month—the price of it was 1l. 5s. 3d.

JOHN SMITH HOSKISSON . I am superintendent of police on the Southwestern Railway—alter the prisoners had been remanded I received this letter, signed W. Adlum, dated the 8th, from the House of Detention—in consequence of that I went there and saw Adlum, and referred to the letter. (Read: "Sir,—I should very much like to see you upon this unfortunate case, if you can come at your earliest convenience, and give you every information I can.") At that time Spincer was not in custody—I said to Adlum "I have come in reference to this letter, Adlum; I hold out no inducement to you, and make no promise "—he then made a statement, which I took down in writing, read over to him, and he signed. (The prisoner in this stated that he began to deal with the tickets four or five years ago; that he was introduced by a man named Clements to Spincer, and by him tovarious other persons, amongst others to Grace; that the tickets in question he received from Spincer, who paid him a few shillings at a time for them).

Adlum's Statement before the Magistrate. "The only thing I have to say is that as to these tickets found at my residence there was no criminal intention and no stealing in reference to them. There is one mistake in the inspector's evidence, that they were taken out of my uniform that I wore that day. They were taken out of my second suit of uniform, with the exception of two or three which were found in the waistcoat I have on at the present time. They were put in my pocket at the time of collecting, and forgotten to be taken out."

The prisoner Adlum in his defence repealed in substance the statement already given.

GUILTY .

1005. The said WILLIAM ADLUM was further indicted, with JOHN GRACE (38) and FRANCIS SPINCER (50) , for stealing various railway passenger tickets of the London and South-Western Railway Company, the masters of Adlum.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH defended Spincer.

THOMAS BRISBANE EWELL . Prior to 30th June this year I was acquainted with Spincer—on that day I met him at Alexandra Park Races—I told him I had been to Crewkerne—he said, "If had known that I would have let you had tickets to bring you up to London to have paid your fare "—I asked him how that was—he explained that he had a friend at Vauxhall, and he could obtain one when he wanted it—I said, "I shall be going back again, I shall be glad if you will let me have one or a couple—he said, "I have some with me now "—he walked with me a little way from the stand, opened a pocket-book, and began selecting some—I saw about 20 tickets, I did not count them—he gave me two first-class returns from Sherborne—I objected to the first class, and said, "Have you any third class?"—he picked out two others and said, "Here's a couple that will do," and he gave me two return half third-class tourists' tickets from Exmouth to Waterloo—this (produced) is one of them—I gave it to Superintendent Hoskisson—I believe it had been clipped—some were punched and some were not—it is dated 17th June, and is available for two months—I lost the other—I did not give him anything for them—he owed me some money

—he told me he expected some money from the South-Western Company as compensation, when he obtained that he would pay me—on 15th July I met him again at Kempton Park Knees—he told me he had some tickets from Sunbury to London, and if I knew any one who would purchase he would let me have some to sell—that is the station for Kempton Park—he said, "You must return me 9d. each for them, but you can easily make 1s. or perhaps more"—he handed me four return first and second Sunbury to Waterloo, and I think there was a third one—I sold three of them while he was standing by me to persons I knew by sight, having seen them at race meetings; I received 3s. for them—I returned the 3s. to Spincer there and then—in consequence of that transaction I communicated with the Company—on 18th July I saw Superintendent Hoskisson—I was then engaged by him in the service of the Company—by his directions I attended Winchester Races on 19th July; I saw Spincer there selling a number of railway tickets—I saw 2s., 1s. 6d., and different amounts pass—two men returned, stating the tickets were post-dated; he returned them each their shilling—I communicated with Inspector Bowles—after that, when Spincer was standing close to me, I saw Bowles coming towards us—some one said" Look out—Spincer made a dart and dodged in the back premises of the public-house near to which he was standing—that same evening I saw Spincer talking about the police coming, and he said what tickets he had left he had thrown the closet in the yard—on 26th July, also by Superintendent Hoskisson's instructions, I attended Goodwood Races—I saw Spincer there—he was doing nothing—I saw Grace selling tickets—on the 28th I saw the inspector, and stopped some persons at Mid hurst Station—some of them took short journey tickets.

Cross-examined. My present address is 296, City Road—I swear I gave my correct address at the police-court—I did not say it was 276—I may have made a mistake in the number—I knew Spincer before the Alexandra Park Races, and had often spoken to him—I did not give a thought as to whether he had a right to sell tickets—I became alive to the fact that he was not entitled to do so two days after the Kempton Park Races; I went to Hoskisson—the first 30 years of my life I was a bootmaker; I had a shop of my own till I was that age at Acton—I was last in business at Westport, near Crewkerne, for about five months—I was brought to London on a warrant charged with deserting my wife—that was in June, a month previous to my offering my services to the South-Western Company—I went to Hammersmith Police-court—I was charged with bigamy and dis-charged—that was at Crewkerne—I never said at the police-court "I was charged with bigamy; I was discharged at Crewkerne twice; I was charged with deserting my wife "—Mr. Franklin and Mr. Holloway were my bail—Mr. Holloway is in the service of the Company—I had no charge hanging over me when I entered their service—some weeks I receive more than others, according to the expenses I am put to in taking tickets—I have extra money for paying the fares—I said at the police-court "I receive 1l. per week, there is no settled salary," though some weeks I receive as much as 3l.—I never gave the Company a list of my expenses—I never said "I expect the balance to be paid after this case is over," nor "I cannot say I expect to be paid handsomely after his conviction "—it makes no difference to me whether the prisoners are acquitted or not—30l. was the only money I lent Spincer; the other we treated as gifts—I have given a great amount

away to my friends—what you have read from my examination before the Magistrate is correct.

Re-examined. The same person who brought me up for deserting my wife brought me up for bigamy.

WILLIAM BOWLES . I am a travelling ticket inspector on the South-western Railway—I was on duty on 19th July at Winchester Races—I received a communication from Ewell—half an hour afterwards I saw Spincer with others—he was standing near when I stopped a man with a ticket from Ryde to Waterloo—the man paid his fare, and I took the ticket—I as also on duty at Goodwood Races at Midhurst Station on 28th July—I received a communication from Ewell—I stopped three passengers with three Portsmonth Town tickets to Waterloo—they paid the fares—I kept the tickets.

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Inspector L). I apprehended Adlum at his house on 4th September—I found in his pockets a number of tickets—I also opened a drawer in a chest of drawers in his room, which he unlocked with a key from his pocket at my request—he look out a paper—I said, "Let me look at that," and I saw the letters A and B—I read them—he said, "I did send some gambols down"—he has since told me "gambols" means railway tickets—I saw him at the House of Detention—I mentioned those in the letter—he also told me he received them from Spincer.

MATTHEW HENRY HALL . I am one of the firm of Bircham and Co., solicitors to the South-Western Railway Company—on 13th June an accident happened at Staines Junction—this letter signed Spincer was received at Water-loo Station; it was handed to me—shortly afterwards Spincer called on me—I had the letter, and referred to it (Dated 19th June; expressing surprise at not receiving a reply to a letter referring to injuries received in the accident)—I subsequently paid him some compensation for his injuries—I saw him three times altogether—he signed the receipt produced "Francis Spincer "—I have compared the letters A and B with his writing—I believe them to be the same writing.

CHARLES RILEY . I am chief collector at Vauxhall—Adlum was a ticket collector—he had no authority to take away tickets from the station—I know Spincer as a traveller on the line, especially at race times—I have only seen him at Vauxhall in conversation with Adlum; not more than once to my recollection—my attention was called to him.

JOHN HOSKISSON , I am superintendent of police on the South-Western Railway—on 14th September I received Spincer into custody at Doncaster—that was after the other prisoners had been remanded—I said, "I shall charge you with being concerned with William Adlum and. John Grace, who are in custody, with stealing and receiving railway tickets, knowing them to have been stolen, also conspiring with those two men to defraud the railway company by using and selling them"—he said, "That is a very serious charge "—I said, "Yes "—I afterwards showed him the letters A and B—I said, "Those letters were found on Adlum, and were written by you "—he read them carefully through—he made no reply—when he was searched a pocket book was found, which contained the same address as the letters: "Broad Street, Ottery St. Mary," and underneath "No. 3, Gladstone Street, Vauxhall, London "—I knew Adlum lived there until last March—I said, "Adlum has made a statement, and says you have had tickets of him, and that last Sunday week you called at his house, and paid 8s. for some you

had had before "—he made no remark to that—I said," You know Adlum" he said, "Yes, and Grace also"—the first time I saw Ewell was on the 18th July—after that date he acted entirely under my instructions.

Cross-examined. I knew a man who was in the service of the Company for ten years, called Sergeant Littlefield—I did not ask him at the police-court to swear that Spincer had been in the company of Grace and Adlum—he has left the Company's service.

MR. KEITH FRITH submitted there was no case to go to the Jury, as the Company had parted with the ownership of the tickets, and nothing that afterwards happened re-invested them in the Company, and that it could not be shown that the persons possessing the tickets would have travelled if they had had properly to obtain tickets. The COURT held that the objections were insufficient to stop the case.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, NOVEMBER 20 TH, 1882.