The Proceedings of the Old Bailey

 

3.   MICHAEL MURPHY was indicted , for that he, on the 18th of October, at   St. George, Middlesex, upon   John Hallisey, unlawfully, maliciously, and feloniously did make an assault, and unlawfully, &c., did cut and wound the said John Hallisey, in and upon his left thigh, with Intent, in so doing, feloniously, wilfully, and of his malice aforethought, to kill and murder the said John Hallisey, against the Statute.

2nd COUNT the same as the 1st, only stating his intention to be, to disable the said John Hallisey.

3rd COUNT. Stating his intention to be, to do him some grievous bodily harm.

  JOHN HALLISEY . I am a coal-whipper. I know the prisoner—he is a coal-whipper—on Saturday, the 18th of October, he and I were together on board the Bridget collier, which laid off Bell wharf tier—we were often together at work, but not just about that time—I have known him a good many years—I lodged in the same house—I lived up stairs, and he down stairs—I am married, and live in King-street, St. George's-in-the-East—my wife lives with me—I came home between three and four o'clock in the afternoon, on Saturday, the 18th of October—our day's work was over—the prisoner and I came ashore in one boat together, and I went home—the whole gang of us went to a public-house after we had been home—we were there about six o'clock, waiting to be paid our money—after we got our money, the prisoner went out of the public-house before me—he was at home when I got home—I happened to stop a few minutes with one or two men of the gang, and, as I came home, I met my wife in the highway, and we went to market together—after being at market, we came home together—the street door was bolted—my wife knocked at the door, and asked my eldest son what it was bolted for—my boy put his bead out of window, and said he was afraid to open the door on account of Murphy—the door was not opened on our knocking—my wife lifted the latch up, and finding it bolted, called to the boy to know why it was bolted—the prisoner heard what was said, and came and opened the door—he had a knife in one hand, and a sharpening stone in the other hand—my wife went in first, and said, "You are very busy with your knife; what do you want to do with the knife?" he said, "To rip your b—y husband's guts open"—on that he made a dart at me—(here are the clothes I wore)—he cut at me in the left thigh with the knife in his hand, and cut my trowsers, which I have on now, and cut my thigh—my wife said, "For God's sake don't kill my old man; what has he done amiss to you?"—he was going to make a second dart at me, and she caught the knife in her hand—I put my hand to my thigh, for the blood flowed immediately—he pulled his hand away from my wife, and made another dart, and cut me here on the right hand finger—I moved back a little, holding my left hand on my thigh—I put my back against the wall, and my wife sung out, "Police"—there was no quarrel between the prisoner and I in the course of the day—neither when we were at work, nor at the public-house—he did not say at the time, why he gave me the blow, but that he would have my b—y guts open.

Cross-examined by MR. PHILLIPS. Q. Did you ever say he gave a reason for it? A. No; I did not rush at him to get the knife from him, upon his using these expressions—I had no power to get it from him—I was not aware of it—my wife was between us when he used the expression, and when he struck at me—I never attempted to get the knife from him—I made use of no expression—I had drank a pint or two of porter—I remember being ill some time before this—he was particularly kind and attentive to me in my illness—very neighbour-like—he acted like a friend to me, assisting me as much as he could—I do not know of his pawning his jacket to get me any thing—he might have come up to my room, and said, "How are you?"—that was all his attendance—he might give me a

glass or two of wine—I did not go into his bed-room the day the scuffle took place, when his children were in bed—he did not appear to have got out of his bed—he had his clothes on—he had no coat on, but he had two shirts on—he usually wore a coat or jacket when he was out in the street—nobody was with me but my wife—I had drank two or three pints of beer at the public-house—my wife did not drink with me—I suppose the prisoner and I have been acquainted thirteen or fourteen years—I am now recovering from the wounds.

COURT. Q. At what time did you come home that night? A. I dare say it was between eleven and twelve o'clock.

  MARY HALLISEY . I am the wife of John Hallisey. I remember the night in question—I went home with my husband after being at market—when I came to the street door, I lifted up the latch—it was fastened—I called out to my son, "Tim, what is the door fastened about? come open the door"—the boy put his head out at the window, and said, "I am afraid to come down stairs for Murphy"—the prisoner heard me and came to the door and said, "Who is at the door?"—I said, "Me: open the door"—he opened the door—it is not above three quarters of a yard from the street door to his room door—he had his pocket knife in his right hand and a sharpening stone in the other hand—I said, "You are d—d' busy with your knife—what are you going to do with it?"—he said, "To rip your husband's b—y guts out"—I said, "Why, d—n you, you will commit murder"—he made a stab with the knife at my husband, caught him in the thigh, and ripped him up, and his trowsers likewise as well as the flesh—I laid hold of his hand and said, "Do not kill my poor old man; what did he do to you?"—he said, "Let go of me, you b—y wh—e, for I will rip his b—y guts open"—he rushed his hand from me and made a second stab at him—my husband stood against the wall there, as if he was dead—I cried out, "Murder! police!" and the policeman came.

Cross-examined. Q. How near is his bed-room to the door? A. His room door is not more than three quarters of a yard from the street door—his bed was in that room—I do not know that his children were in bed—he occupied one room only, and eat, drank, and slept in it—he has two children—I did not hear his children crying, nor did I see them in bed—we did not burst open his door—nobody was inside but my boy—we had drank nothing to make us intoxicated in the public-house—there was five of us had half a pint of gin, and I tasted out of one pint and two pots of beer; but not so much as to drink half a quartern—I am the prosecutor's wife, and the mother of his nine children—my husband did not attempt to take the knife from the prisoner on his using the expression—there was a light in the prisoner's room, and that gave a light in the passage—the candle stood on a table close to the room door—it must have been on the table which stood under the window, by the appearance of the light—I could not see the candle, but the door stood open, and the light shone into the passage—it was rather dim in the passage, but there was plenty of light to see what was done—I stood between the prisoner and any husband, when he gave him the first stab—my back was to my husband, and my face to the prisoner, when he used the expression—my husband did not make any attempt to get the knife—I was not looking at my husband at the time—the prisoner is a married man with two children, and I believe his wife quite big in the family way—one child is between six and seven years old, another is three years old.

  TIMOTHY HALLISEY . I am the prosecutor's son. On the night in question

the prisoner came home in a great rage, about two hours before my father, or rather more—he fetched something, and knocked against the bannister with something, and called out, "Hallisey," twice—I came out, and said he was not at home; what did he want with him—he said, "I will let him know, a b—y son of a b—h; I will rip his b—y guts open"—then he went out in the street, and I went up stairs—I looked out of the window, and saw him go into the street, and he walloped the stones with a saw; he struck them, and said he would have my father's b—y life the moment he entered the door, and then he came in again—I stopped a little bit, and then pulled off my shoes and went down stairs—I saw him sharpening his knife—I got very frightened, and came up again, and stopped about a quarter of an hour longer—I happened to go down stain again, and tried to go out to put my father on his guard not to come home that night—while I was trying to open the door, he came out of his room, and said, "What do you want out?"—I said, "Business"—he took and shyed me down in the passage, and said, if I offered to enter out at the door till he opened it, he would put the knife in my b—y guts"—I got up again, when he knocked me down, and held the knife over my head—he said nothing more about my father—I went up stairs—I was glad to get away from him—he was cursing and swearing about the place like a madman—he did not say why he wished to do my father an injury—when my father and mother came home, my mother called, "Tim" and asked why the door was shut—I was afraid to answer; she said, "Come, come, open the door," and the prisoner said, "Yes, you b—y w—, I will open the door; I have got it all ready for you"—she said, "Open the door;" he opened the door—my mother came in, and said, "You are very busy with your knife in your hand, and your sharpening stone;" he said, "Yes, to rip your b—y husband's guts open"—my father entered the door—Iran down into the passage, and stood alongside of them; he took one draw on my father, and cut his thigh—I ran out in the street, and screamed out—he made another draw at him, and caught his finger—my mother ran out and called a policeman—three policemen came in, and broke in at the door—he had fastened his room door himself—after he had done the deed, he went in and fastened his own room door, and mother cried out, "Murder! police!" they came to her assistance, and asked him to open the door—he would not, and they broke it in, and took him out.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know what put the man out of his sense in the way you describe? A. No—I had done nothing to him—he could not be in bed when he was about, like a madman—he was without coat or waistcoat, as if he had just got out of bed—he had a striped shirt on over a flannel shirt, and a pair of flannel drawers—he had no trowsers on, nor had he when they took him to the station-house—he had been out in the street, and was striking the stones with a saw opposite his own door—he went through the door into the street, knocking the saw about as if he was out of his senses—he was doing that for about ten minutes walloping the stones as fast as he could, and he was swearing what he would do—the people were frightened of him—he knew what he was about very well—he acted like a madman the way he went on—I do not know whether he left his children in bed—he had two children who slept in that room.

  ELIZABETH GOGIN . I live at No. 4, King-street. The prosecutor lives eight or nine doors from me—on Saturday, the 18th of October, I remember this happening—I saw the prisoner between eight and nine o'clock—he came up to my place—he had a knife in his hand—I was washing a few things—he

made no more to do but upset the bed—he used very violent words, which I cannot express—he did not mention any body's name, except his wife's—he said, "The w—e is here (meaning his wife), and I will have her out," but she was never in my place.

  JOHN HYNES CLIFT . I am a policeman. I heard the cries of "Murder" from the prosecutor's wife—I went to the house—when I got to the door I saw the prosecutor's left thigh was cut inside—he said Murphy had stabbed him—the prisoner was in his bed-room, and the door shut and locked—the prosecutor's thigh was cut, and the blood running profusely from it down his trowsers on to the floor—I broke the prisoner's door open, and told him he must go with me—he was lying on the bed, apparently asleep—I said be must go with me—he said he would not—he said I could find him at any time—I said he must go then, and with the assistance of my brother officer I secured him—we had great difficulty to get him out of the room—the prosecutor and his wife did not tell me what had happened in his presence—I took him to the station-house—I had passed the house that evening about a quarter of an hour before the cry of "Murder," and saw the prisoner's window shutter open—I looked in, and saw him sharpening a knife on a sharpening stone, and heard him say, "I will hare the bg——s guts out before I go to bed," but I did not know who he meant—he mentioned no name.

  WILLIAM JAMES . I am a surgeon, I was dresser at the London Hospital at the time—the prosecutor was brought to the hospital either late on Saturday night, or early on Sunday morning—I found he had a wound on the front part of the left thigh, between four and five inches in length—it was an incised wound—it appeared to be done with a sharp instrument—it did not appear to have been inflicted with violence—It appeared to have bled a great deal, but did not bleed after he came to the hospital—I could not ascertain the depth, not wishing to disturb it—it was not in a dangerous place—I observed a wound on the middle finger of his right hand—both appealed very recent wounds.

Cross-examined. Q. I think you say it did not appear inflicted with violence? A. It did not, and was not dangerous—I believe he is quite recovered—he left the hospital in about ten days—the finger wound was merely superficial.

Prisoner's Defence. This man, at the time I came home, came in a violent manner, he burst in my door, and afterwards went out with his wife, and came in again, and his wife sat by the side of ay bed, and said, "Bill, I will pacify you if any body can pacify you"—I had had words with her before, and told the young man act to open the door, for fear my wife should come in; but they burst the door open, and she came and sat by the side of my bed—I said, "Why have yon done that?"—she said, "Come and have a pot of beer"—I said, "No, I will not"—Hallisey said, "Come, Bill, go and have a pot of beer, and we will make it all up"—I said," No, I shall not"—I would not go with bus, or have any thing to do with a man who had been with my wife—a scuffle took place, and he caught hold of me—I was in the act of cutting a piece of bread for my youngest boy, who is three years old—I bad the knife in my hand; whether he was cut or not, I declare I don't know, for he was drank, and I was no better—I had neither shoe nor stocking on, only my drawers—I had just got out of bed to open the door for him, and they went up stairs—his wife came down and said, "I will walk the passage in spite of hangman, murderer,

or thief"—but I never spoke to her—then the husband was after breaking the door open.

  JOHN HYNES CLIFT re-examined. The prisoner was not so drunk as not to know what he was doing—he was a little fresh about nine o'clock in the evening—I did not see him in a public-house afterwards—he was not at all fresh when I went to his house—Hallisey was a little the worse for liquor.

  MARY MAHONEY . I know the prisoner and the prosecutor—on the night the prisoner was taken up I was passing the house they live in, as near as I can guess, between twelve and one o'clock—the house is let out in tenements—I heard violent words between Hallisey's wife in the passage—she called the prisoner a b—'s son, a w—'s son, or a hangman, for keeping her from going in and out through the passage—her husband came up and asked me what brought me there at that time, and said what was between them and him they could decide without me—I said, "Hallisey, did I ever offend you, or say any thing on one side or the other?"—I stood by—Hallisey asked me to go out, and I moved more to Murphy's room door, which was on my left hand side—I was in the passage at the time; Hallisey's wife went into Murphy's room door, and I went in after her—she sat on the bed by the side of Murphy, and said whatever had occurred between either of them, she knew she could cool Murphy's passion—Murphy was on the bed at the time—John Hallisey sat on the bed by the side—the prisoner's two children were in the bed, crying—I stood along-side Hallisey's wife, and Hallisey came in on my left side—Murphy told him to keep out of his sight, calling him a ruffian, and told him to keep away from him—Hallisey asked him to come out to the public-house, and have part of a pot of beer with him—Murphy denied going out—Hallisey's wife asked him again to go out, and have beer—Murphy denied it—Murphy said, "If I would go out and have a pint of beer with him, he had no objection—I said it was too late, as the children were then crying—with that the two men scuffled on the bed-side—I saw no more—when I came out, I saw Hallisey's wife robbing her husband's hand, and said it was nothing—I did not think it was prudent for me to see a man opening the waist of his smallclothes, so I turned on one side, and she screamed out "Murder."

COURT. Q. You say he twice asked him to go and have beer, and he refused? A. Yes; and Murphy said, if I would go with him to drink beer, he would have no objection—I said, no, any body who wished him well, would not wish him to go out that night—I then saw the two men scuffling at the bed-side, and I turned out at the street door—when I got to the door, I saw Hallisey's wife rubbing her husband's hands at the back, and said it was nothing—the man put his right hand in the waist of his small-clothes—I being a widow, did not think it prudent to stop to see any more—I went towards my home, for the prisoner's wife was at my house—not in my room, but in the house I lodge in—I went home to her.

Q. Did Murphy give any reason for calling Hallisey a ruffian? A. He said, any body who had any thing to do with his wife in his absence, should keep out of his sight—I am certain he used that expression—I did not see any bread in the bed for the children—I have known Murphy, as near as I can guess, about sixteen years, if not better—I found him nothing but a quiet good-natured man, as far as I can understand—I have heard he was very kind to the prosecutor when he was ill.

  MARY KEAMAN . I am a married woman. On the Saturday night, on which the prisoner was taken up, I saw him between eight and nine o'clock, at my own door—he asked if I had seen his wife—I said I had not, and he went up stairs—I was talking to Mrs. Mahoney.

GUILTY— DEATH . Aged 40.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on

account of his family.

Before Mr. Baron Bolland.