Old Bailey Proceedings.
2nd February 1835
Reference Number: t18350202

ActionsCite this text | Print-friendly version | Report an error
Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numberf18350202

Related Material

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

SESSIONS PAPER.

WINCHESTER, MAYOR.

FOURTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 2, 1835.

MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,

Taken in Short-hand,

BY HENRY BUCKLER.

LONDON:

GEORGE HEBERT, CHEAPSIDE.

W. TYLER, PRINTER, IVY-LANE.

1835.

THE

WHOLE PROCEEDINGS

On the King's Commission of the Peace,

OYER AND TERMINER, AND GAOL DELIVERY

FOR

The City of London,

AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE

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

OF THE

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

Before the Right Honourable HENRY WINCHESTER, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir John Vaughan, one of His Majesty's Justices of the Court of Common Pleas; Sir John Patteson, Knt., one of the Justices of His Majesty's Court of King's Bench; John Ansley, Esq.; George Scholey, Esq.; John Atkins, Esq.; Sir William Heygate, Bart; William Venables, Esq., Aldermen of the said City of London; the Honourable Charles Ewan Law, Recorder of the said City; Thomas Kelly, Esq; Samuel Wilson, Esq.; Sir Chapman Marshall, Knt; and John Pirie, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; John Mirehouse, Esq., Common Sergeant of the said City; and William St. Julien Arabin, Sergeant at Law; His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.

LIST OF JURORS.

First Jury.

Joseph Marriot

William Eldershaw

James Faithful

John Faint

Thomas Francis Atkins

William Druce

John Green

James Godsell

Allan Stewart

William Forster

John William Adams

Courtney Sage

Second Jury.

Anthony Gallilee

William Henry Barnard

William Barber

William Patrick Grey

James Reede

Joseph Goddard

Henry Evans

William Cooper

Thomas Gronner

John Gill

Thomas Markins

John Hellingford

Third Jury.

John Fletcher

Richard William Fairman

William Greatorex

Benjamin Harber

James Turnbul Edgard

George Field

William Green

George Goddard

John Forster

Richard Frost

John Boswell

Charles Forder

Fourth Jury.

John Fitzpatrick

Francis Field

John Nicholson Gibbins

John Gilbert

George Wallis

Simeon Cracknell

George Tighe

Henry Free

John Morton

Richard Green

James Franks

James Barkwith

Fifth Jury.

David Freeman

Richard Adams

William Griggs

John Power Royston

Hugh Evans

William Gilbert

James Archibald Foster

Richard Adams

Edmund Fry

Isaac Combers

Benjamin Andrews

Richard Brand

Sixth Jury.

James Doyle

William Earnshaw

Daniel Hyde

John Evans

Matthew Errington

Samuel Eyland

James Parkin Prior

Stephen Grange

Richard Batchelor

Orlando Ball

James Girado

Edward Dyer

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

SESSIONS HOUSE, OLD BAILEY.

WINCHESTER, MAYOR.—FOURTH SESSION.

A star (*) denotes that the prisoner has been previously in custody—An obelisk (†), that the prisoner is known to be the associate of bad characters.

CAPITAL CONVICTIONS.

Third Jury, before Mr. Justice Vaughan.

ISABELLA HOPES.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-472
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceDeath

Related Material

472. ISABELLA HOPES was indicted for that she on the 6th of November, at Edmonton, Middlesex, unlawfully, maliciously, and feloniously did administer to, and cause to be taken by Elizabeth Cambridge, certain poison, to wit, one drachm of white arsenic, the same being a deadly poison, with intent feloniously, wilfully, and of her malice aforethought, to kill and murder her, against the Statute.

2nd COUNT, calling that which was administered "a certain destructive thing."

MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.

ELIZABETH CAMBRIDGE . I carry on the business of a market-gardener at Tottenham, Middlesex. The prisoner was in my service in November last. On the 5th of November I had lost 3l. 10s.; I had lost money before, but did not distrust the prisoner—I cannot exactly say how much I lost altogether—in consequence of suspicion, I examined her clothes after she was gone to bed, between ten and eleven o'clock on the 5th of November—(we had no regular agreement for any wages)—I found £7 or £8 in her pocket—the money was in sovereigns and half-sovereigns, and there was some silver—she was asleep—I awoke her, and told her I felt very uncomfortable, that I missed the money, and I said, "There is only you and your brother in my house"—(his name is Walker, he is a half-brother)—she said, "I hope you do not distrust me, Mrs. Cambridge"—my answer was there was only her and her brother in the house—I said, "Do you think your brother's key opens my box?"—she said, "I do not know, his key is in the box, and you can try it"—I did so, and it would not fit it—I told her I was deficient in my payments; I was going to take the money to London with me next morning, and did not know what I should do for want of it, and asked if she had any she could lend me—she said, "How much do you want?"—I said, "Three or four sovereigns"—I had not at that time told her I had discovered the money in her pocket—I asked her if I should hand her pocket to her—she said yes, if I pleased—I handed her her pocket—she took out a purse, and wished to give me what I had asked for, but she wished to keep the remainder, as I thought, out of my sight; it appeared so—she gave me four sovereigns—I save she had more, and said to her, "It is well for you, Isabella, that you have got more money than you knew of; I am

afraid this is all my money which I have lost at different times"—she said, "It is, Mrs. Cambridge, I am sorry for it, but it is your money: if you will promise you will never tell any one of it, I will never repeat the offence again"—she bore a most excellent character before, and I told her I would forgive her, I never would tell any body of it, nor would I ever tell her herself of it, provided she never would repeat the offence again—the money was restored to me, and there the matter ended—I left my house next morning (the 6th) between one and two o'clock, and went to Covent-garden—I left her in bed.

Q. Before you left the house, had you any conversation with her, or any intimation, from which you could collect that it was her intention to leave you? A. None whatever—I used to keep the money which I lost in a small box, which was locked inside a larger box, which stood in my bed-room—I kept my tea in a canister on the chimney-piece in the kitchen—she knew I kept it there—I always kept it there—it was unlocked—I had taken tea out of that canister on the 5th—I had bought the tea on Tuesday, the 4th—I had not felt any inconvenience or sickness after taking tea on the 5th—I returned to my house about one o'clock in the afternoon of the 6th—the prisoner was then gone—I took tea about six o'clock that afternoon—as near as I can say, we commenced taking tea about six o'clock—John Walker, her half-brother, took tea with me—he had not been to market with me—I had left him at home when I went, and found him there when I returned—I took the tea out of this canister, which was in the place where it was accustomed to be—I took the tea from the canister myself, and made it myself—about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes after taking it, I felt a violent sickness—I felt no pain only from the violent retching—I sent Walker to my neighbour's, to go for the doctor, as I thought he would not be able to go so far himself—he was ill too—I complained first, and be complained in not more than two or three minutes—nobody took tea but him and myself—Mr. Moon if my medical man—he lives about a quarter of a mile from my house—Mr. Moon was not able to come himself, but sent his assistant, who came in about half an hour, I should think—I was getting worse before he arrived—the sickness was not accompanied with much pain—the assistant gave me warm water—I went to bed, and after twelve or one o'clock, I began to get better—the warm water threw off from my stomach what was there—Mrs. Budd, who worked on my ground, sat up with me that night—I saw the prisoner again on the Sunday following—she came to my house—I did not expect her—I asked her if she could tell me any thing of the circumstance which had takes place—if she knew any thing of what had been put in the tea—she said she did not—I cannot exactly say whether I began with that, or whether I spoke to her about her absence—I asked if she knew any thing of what had been put in the tea—she said, she did not know any thing about it—I asked her what was her reason for leaving my house—she said she could not account for it—I asked her if she thought I had used her ill—she said, "No"—Mrs. Budd's name was not mentioned at that time—she did not continue in my service after she came back on Sunday—the reason she came was, I had got a neighbour of mine to say I wished to speak to her—I did not know where she was to be found—I sent her a message, and she came—she staid about a quarter of an hour—I cannot recollect when I saw her next—I should think it was in about a fortnight.

Q. Did she come to you, or you go to her? A. Her brother had a letter—she came to my house—I asked her if she had any thing more to say, if

she knew any thing about it; and she said she really did not know any thing about it—I saw her again a month ago last Monday—she came to my house of her own accord, and said, she came to speak to me—that she had something to say to me, as she felt very uncomfortable—she said, "I met Mrs. Budd to-day, and she told me all about respecting the poison"—she said, on the morning when you left my house, Mrs. Budd was working in the fields taking up potatoes—she had to come home for some sacks, and in coming home for them, she took the key from a certain place where we leave it—she opened the door, came in, and got the arsenic—she had it all ready in her pocket, and that she mixed it along with the tea—she said, Mrs. Budd did that, (Mrs. Budd had attended me on the night of my sickness,) and she was sorry she had not got more to finish me.

Q. Before she made this statement, had you expressed any suspicion to her about Mrs. Budd being likely to have done such a thing? A. No; I had had no quarrel or difference with Mrs. Budd of any sort—I do not remember her saying any thing more—I did not say any thing to the prisoner about this statement—she went away to her lodging, I believe—I do not remember that I saw her again till she was taken into custody—I had a man-servant, named Shepherd, sleeping in my house formerly, while the prisoner was in my service, and before November, I directed him not to sleep in the house any longer, from observations I had made of his and the prisoner's conduct—I was very much troubled with rats at the time—I had corn in the house—I discharged Shepherd from sleeping in the house, about a month before this happened—I had purchased some arsenic to destroy the rats, which I placed between the joists and boards of the upper room in the washhouse—it was concealed between the joists and rafters of the wash-house, in three different papers—the prisoner knew I had it there—I told her as a caution, at any time if she was cleaning, if she should meet with this small parcel, to be sure and not meddle with it, for it was poison—I showed it to her in that place—the room was not locked—any one who knew where it was could get at it. My medical gentleman took a portion of the tea out of the canister—a neighbour took another portion of it, and the rest was thrown into the fire—I am sure it was the remainder of the same tea as I had taken that afternoon—Mr. Delanor, a farmer, took the other portion—when Mr. Moon came, I looked at the tea in the canister, and saw it was quite white with something—if my attention had been called to the tea before I had made it, I should have discovered it in a moment—I had no suspicion when I made the tea, and no reason to look at it particularly, when I put it in the pot.

COURT. Q. Had you a candle? A. No; it was dusk when I made the tea, and I did not perceive any thing extraordinary in it.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. Where did you take your tea? A. In the kitchen, when I keep the canister—after having tea on the 5th, I replaced the canister on the mantel-shelf—it was about a quarter or twenty minutes after six o'clock when I was taken ill—I commenced tea about six o'clock—Mr. Moon's assistant came about half an hour after I had done tea, near seven o'clock—no one had coat into the kitchen before he arrived—I remained in the kitchen the whole time—I made my tea in the dusk—I had not got a candle, and could not perceive what was in it—I had expressed a wish to set the prisoner afterwards, and sat came on Sunday, and then I did not see her till about a month after—I thought her statement about Mrs. Budd a most extraordinary out—I made no remark to

her about Mrs. Budd—I had no reason to have any suspicion of Mrs. Budd.

Q. How far was the prisoner living from you after leaving your service, till she made this disclosure? A. I think about half a mile, but I do not know the place—it is in the parish of Tottenham—I did not know she was living there for some time—I did know afterwards—I knew where she was to be met with—she was taken into custody about a fortnight ago—she was taken up in the neighbourhood—she has resided in the neighbourhood till about the 19th of last month—she bore, up to the 5th of November, a most excellent character, as a harmless, good-hearted, good-natured girl.

Q. Do you happen to know she has been subject to fits which affect her intellect? A. I did not know it then—I understand so now—I heard it from her brother.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. She was in your service about nine weeks? A. Yes, she had no fits during that time—she at times appeared a little stupid—she was able to go about her usual work—I never saw her before she came to live with me, but my mother knew her.

COURT. Q. What quantity of tea might there be in the canister when you bought it on the 4th? A. It was a quarter of a pound which I put in on the Tuesday—I purchased it at a shop close by Spitalfields—I do not know the name—I have bought my tea there for twelve months before—I bought it on the 4th.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. When did you see the arsenic which was placed in the wash-house, after you felt ill? A. On Saturday, the 8th—I went to examine where I had put it, and I think I can positively state the paper had never been touched—I do not know that any body but the prisoner knew of my placing it there.

COURT. Q. You say it did not appear to have been touched, what makes you state that? A. It being wrapped up in the same way, and lying in the same place—there was no appearance of any being spilt by the side of it—to the best of my judgment, there was the same quantity in the paper, as when I first put it there—I cannot say how much there was, perhaps a quarter of an ounce—I gave 6d. for it—one of my men got it—I had no man sleeping in the house—the boy Walker slept in the house, and myself and the prisoner, but no one else—Shepherd worked on the premises—he did not take his meals on the premises—the powder was finish and white.

JOHN WALKER . I am the prisoner's half-brother, and am twelve years old. I, the prisoner, and mistress, slept in the house at Tottenham, but nobody else at that time—I remember my mistress going to market on the 6th of November—she returned about one o'clock—I know Shepherd—he worked in Mrs. Cambridge's grounds—he came into the house, after she had gone to market, about a quarter after seven o'clock—the prisoner was standing talking to him in the wash-house—they talked together for about twenty minutes—I did not hear what they said—I went sway, and left them together—I only came up to the house for tools, and went back to my work—I returned again, in about ten minutes, and I found them still together—Shepherd went away while I was there—the prisoner said to him, "Good bye;" and he said, "For ever!"—she said, "No, not for ever"—she was attached to Shepherd—I breakfasted with the prisoner after that, but she was not with me all the time I was at breakfast—I then went again to my work—I had occasion to come back again, after some time, for some sacks, and I found Shepherd with the prisoner—that was about half-past eight o'clock—Shepherd had been home to his breakfast—he staid about

with her ten minutes—I went to work in the field then, and when I came back again for some more sacks, he was going away—she called to him, and when she saw me she held her hand up to him, and said, "That will do; never mind"—when I went the second time for the sacks, she had not dressed herself to go out—I was going to the house afterwards for the sacks which had been emptied, that was about a quarter after nine o'clock—she was then dressed, and was coming out at the front gate—she had got her best clothes on, and a bundle under her arm—I asked her where she was going—she said Mrs. Cambridge had sent her to Mrs. Ratcliff's—she had a cloak on, and she put the bundle under the cloak—I did not expect she was not going to return—she did not return again that day—I went on with my work, and I came in to tea, about six o'clock—I found my mistress there—we sat down together—I saw her make the tea—she got it off the mantel-shelf, just above the fire in the kitchen—we drank tea together—I saw her take it from the canister, and make it—she was taken ill about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes after that—the house was locked up when the prisoner went away, and she laid the key by the side of the porch against the door, where it was usually laid—the house was locked as usual after she went out—I did not see her put the key by the side of the porch—I saw her coming out of the gate, which is a little distance from the door.—I felt ill about two or three minutes after my mistress—I felt a violent sickness—my mistress went to bed—she sent me to a neighbour, to fetch a doctor—I told the neighbour to go for the doctor, and then came home—I felt ill before I went out, and she told me not to go myself to the doctor, but to send the neighbour—after that she sent me to ask Mrs. Budd to come down to stop with her all night—I was taken so ill on the road, I could not proceed—I sat down on the road side—there was a little girl along with me, and I sent her on—while I was sitting by the side of the road, the prisoner passed by—I was sick by the road side—I got up, and asked her where she was going—she said she was going home—she would take the coach and go home—her friends live in Yorkshire—the coaches which go towards her home pass through that neighbourhood—I told her mistress and I were very ill, and asked her if she would go home to Mrs. Cambridge's—she said no, she would not go home, but would take a coach and go home to Yorkshire—my father and mother, live near Bowes, in Yorkshire—my mother and hers are the same person.

Cross-examined. Q. You had seen Shepherd about a quarter after nine o'clock that morning? A. Yes; but he was not inside the house—he was working on the ground—I had seen him about the place between then and when I had tea—he was working at the same place as I was, bringing potatoes with the cart—he did not have his meals there—I saw him after his dinner time—he goes to dinner about one o'clock—he went into the stable, got his horse, and harnessed it—it was Mrs. Cambridge's horse—he went home to his dinner at one o'clock, and returned about two, and went to the stable, and harnessed the horse—the stables are about a hundred yards from the house—I go to my meals in the house—after having my meals, I go out to my work.

COURT. Q. I suppose Shepherd knew when they used to keep the key? A. Yes.

MR. DOANE. Q. It was known to every body in the place that the key hung in the porch? A. No; only Shepherd knew it—Shepherd could have let himself in before one o'clock, because there was nobody in the house—he could have done so between nine o'clock and one—I was

out at work from one o'clock till tea time—I saw Shepherd after one o'clock—Mrs. Cambridge came home at one o'clock—she was at home at one o'clock, when I came in—there are seven or eight rooms in the house—the door was not kept locked when my mistress was at home—any body might open it and walk in—my mistress usually sits in the kitchen—the door opens into the hall, and then into the kitchen at the front—there is a back entrance which opens into the wash-house, and then into the kitchen—a door parts the kitchen from the wash-house—Shepherd could not go in at the back door without going to the front—they go in at the front door, and the back door is bolted inside.

COURT. Q. When you speak of the key, do you mean the key of the front or back door? A. The front door—the back door was bolted inside.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Who was at work with you in the field? A. Mrs. Budd, three men, and Shepherd—Shepherd was going backwards and forwards, taking the potatoes from me to the house, but not into the house—they were banking the potatoes in a yard close by the house—Shepherd appeared to be engaged about his business, as usual, from the time I saw him with my sister in the wash-house till Mrs. Cambridge returned—Mrs. Budd remained working in the field all the morning—I took home a sack, and she came to meet me, seeing me heavily loaded with the sack, and returned with me—she was working in the field till after one o'clock—she did not go to the house till night, to my knowledge—she lived at Edmonton, about a mile from Mrs. Cambridge.

COURT. Q. Where did Shepherd take the potatoes to? A. To the yard—he had no business about the house, unless he went for tools—he banked the potatoes in the yard—he went home to his dinner about half a quarter of a mile from the house—I have no reason to know that he went to the house for tools between nine and one o'clock.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. He was engaged carrying potatoes from one place to the other? A. No, he had a cart and horse that carried them from the field to where they were banked—he would not want any tools—the people forked them up, and he took them away in the cart.

SARAH BUDD . I am the wife of Charles Budd, who is a labouring man, living at Edmonton. In November last, I worked for Mrs. Cambridge, in the potato field—I know the prisoner—I had no quarrel with her or with Mrs. Cambridge.

Q. Had you gone either on the 6th of November, or any other day, into the kitchen or wash-house, and put any arsenic which you found there, in your pocket? A. No, I did not put any arsenic into Mrs. Cambridge's tea-canister—I did not know where she kept her tea-canister—I did not know the had any arsenic for any purpose—Mrs. Cambridge sent for me on the night of the 6th of November—I sat up with her till about three o'clock in the morning, till she got better—she was very sick for above two hours after I went to her—I first went to her near upon nine o'clock—what she threw from her stomach was not preserved—I never expressed any regret to the prisoner, that when I came that night to Mrs. Cambridge, I was sorry I had not finished her—I never spoke to her after the 5th of November until I think it was a month ago last Monday—I have seen her, but not so near as to speak to her—I passed her in the street, in Tottenham, as I came to Mrs. Cambridge's, on the night of the 6th—she was on the right hand side of the way when I first saw her—I was on the same side—it was near upon nine o'clock—I was going down the street—on her seeing me, she crossed over

on the other side of the way—it was quite dark then, except for the lamps—I was not positive it was her—I should not like to swear it was her.

COURT. Q. Then you never saw her so near as to speak to her, from the 5th of November till she was taken up? A. No, I had never seen the tea-canister in my life—I never put any poison in it—I should be very sorry to do such a thing—I had no conversation with the prisoner at all—I did not tell her I was sorry I had not enough arsenic to finish Mrs. Cambridge, when I sat up with her.

THOMAS WILLIS . I am a labouring man, in the employ of Mrs. Cambridge. On the 6th of November I was banking potatoes—I was not in the house that day—I sometimes went to the house when we wanted any thing.

MRS. CAMBRIDGE re-examined. I do not remember when I bought the arsenic—I sent Willis with a note for it—that was the same arsenic as I placed between the joists, it might be six or eight months before—I kept it between the joists and boards ever since—I used a great quantity of it to destroy the rats.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you put the whose of the arsenic you received on the joists? A. Not the whole—the rest was mixed up for the rats.

COURT. Q. How was it mixed? A. I think it was with oatmeal—I put it in different directions in the yard—some on the corn-stacks, and other places, perhaps forty or fifty yards from the house, and in the barn where the rats had made burrows—I cannot say whether I mixed it—I sometimes mix it myself—some was kept in the state in which it came from the chemists—it was in three different papers—that was not mixed with any thing—I put it in three different papers, by way of caution—that was what was not used—it was not in distinct parcels, but for fear it should come through one paper, it was put into three—the rest was mixed up for the rats—I did not miss any from that portion which was not mixed—it did not appear to me as if any had been taken from it—some of the mixture was put in the yard adjoining the yard where the potatoes were being banked—I believe Willis banked them at that time—it is an open yard, forty or fifty yards from the house—I believe Willis dispersed the mixture of oatmeal and arsenic about the yard—I know the appearance of oatmeal when I see it—there was not the least oatmeal about the tea, in my judgment.

THOMAS WILLIS re-examined. I spread the oatmeal and arsenic about the yard and barn—I put about a table-spoonful of sugar and oatmeal every night, mixed with arsenic—I never put any arsenic without having sugar and oatmeal with it—I fetched six-pennyworth on the 14th of January last year, and used a little each time when I wanted it—I had all that came from the doctor's—I took a little at a time—I know nothing of what was concealed in the boards—when I brought it from the doctor's, I gave it to Mrs. Cambridge, and she gave me a little at I wanted it—I cannot tell when she last gave me any—I used it when she gave it to me—I did not keep it—there was very little arsenic is it—it was in a spoonful of sugar and oatmeal.

JOSIPH FORSTER . I am a constable of Tottenham, in consequence of information I received, I took the prisoner into custody en the 19th of January, at Mrs. Jennings's, who keeps a school near Edmonton-bridge—she was in service there at that time—it was in the afternoon, about four o'clock—I told her I apprehended her on suspicion of poisoning Mrs. Cambridge and her brother-in-law—I did not hold out any encouragement or intimidation to her—she wished me not to let Mrs. Jennings know of it—I

promised her I would not then—she said nothing about herself then—I then told her mistress I wished to go up stairs to search her box—this was in her presence—I was allowed to do so—the prisoner and Mrs. Jennings went with me—I found nothing—I took her to the watch-house at Edmonton—I had a conversation with her on our way there—she began to speak, and cried very much—I held out no threat or inducement to her—I told her she might say what she pleased.

MR. DOANE. Q. Did you say any thing to her before this about the charge having been made as to Mrs. Budd? A. She cried very much. I think I asked her if she knew any thing of it—I told her that I had heard she charged Mrs. Budd with it before she made any statement—I said she might say what she pleased to me—I said it was a very serious charge indeed to charge another person with it—I am certain I did not say she had better tell the truth, nor any thing of the sort.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you know it would be a breach of duty to hold out encouragement to prisoners, or threaten them? A. I know better—I have been an officer fourteen years—I said it was a very serious charge, and she might say what the pleased—she began to tell me, crying very much—I said, "I understand you have said it was Mrs. Budd put the poison into the canister"—she said, "Yes, it was—I will tell you all about it"—she then said, that in consequence of Mrs. Cambridge and herself having words on the 5th of November, she went out of her mistress's house into the garden, crying very much, when she met Mrs. Budd—that Mrs. Budd asked her, "Girl, what are you crying about?" and she answered, that her mistress and her had been having words, and she felt very uncomfortable—that Mrs. Budd then said to her, "Oh, never mind her, girl, don't cry; get some stuff, and do for her"—that she told Mrs. Budd she did not know how to do that—then Mrs. Budd told her she would tell her how to do it, and she would get her some stuff to put into the tea-canister of Mrs. Cambridge with the tea—and she told Mrs. Budd she could not do that, as her brother and herself always took tea with Mrs. Cambridge—Mrs. Budd, she said, told her then, that she might make any excuse, and take her brother with her, and go into the village on an errand, while Mrs. Cambridge took tea—I then asked her if that was the truth, and she said it was, and that Mrs. Budd was the person who put the stuff into the canister—that was all the conversation I had with her on the road to the watch-house—she remained in the watch-house that night—I fetched her next day, the 20th, from the watch-house at Edmonton, to Dr. Robinson's, the magistrate of Tottenham—I asked her, as I conveyed her to Dr. Robinson's, if she had any thing more to say—if she had spoken the truth about it, as it was a very serious charge to charge another person—she stated, that she had told the truth, and the whole truth—that was all that passed before she was under examination—after the examination was over on the 20th, the parties were ordered to attend next day, and she was remanded till next day—the prisoner asked the magistrate if she might be allowed to speak to me in private—it was after the other witnesses were gone—Mrs. Budd had been among the witnesses under examination—the prisoner had heard what Mrs. Budd stated—the magistrate allowed the prisoner to speak to me in private—I stepped out with her into the next room—she cried, pot her hand on my shoulder, and said, all she had said about Mrs. Budd was false—she said she had done it herself, she had put the arsenic into the tea herself, and no one else—I asked her how she could think of doing such a thing, when

she knew her own brother would have to take part of it—she said she knew it, but she could not help it—she was very sorry, but she could not help it—I said it was a very serious thing—she said she put it in at the time Walker was cleaning shoes in the wash-house—I took her before the Justice, and communicated to him what she had said—I was present at the last examination, before she was committed—Dr. Robinson was the committing magistrate—the last examination was at his own house—he took down the deposition himself—the prisoner was asked if she had any thing to say, and she made a statement, which Dr. Robinson reduced to writing in my presence, as she delivered it—it was then read over to her, and she put her mark to it—Dr. Robinson wrote his name on one side of it, and I put my name to it as the attesting witness—he did not put his name to it till I had witnessed it by his directions—this is the statement she made (looking at it)—there was no threat or inducement held out to her before she made it—I heard it read over to her before she put her mark to it—the put her mark to the same paper as was read over to her (read.)

"The prisoner, being first cautioned, and informed by me that she was not bound to answer any questions, and that what she said would be put down in writing and produced in evidence against her at her trial; and no promise of favour, nor any threat, menace, or undue terror having been made use of to induce the prisoner to say any thing, but she now voluntarily, and of her own free will says—That in consequence of my having robbed my mistress, after she had gone to market on the 6th of November last, my mind was so uneasy, I could not stop there, and after she had forgiven me for the robbery I could never look her in the face—there was arsenic in the house, which my mistress had to poison rats—I took a quantity of it out of the paper, and put it into the tea-canister with the tea—I knew I was doing wrong all the time, but I could not help myself—I felt that something was possessing me all the time, it must have been the devil—I felt as if I wanted to stop myself from doing it, but I could not—I did it between eight and nine o'clock that morning—Theophilus Shepherd did not know any thing about it, and what I have said about Mrs. Budd is all false—the reason I charged Mrs. Budd was, I thought it would save me.

"X the mark of Isabella Hopes."

"Taken before me,

Wm. Robinson, 21st of January, 1835."

"Witness to the mark of Isabella Hopes—Joseph Forster."

JOHN WALKER re-examined. I did not clean any shoes at all on the morning of the 6th of November.

WILLIAM MOON . I am a surgeon, and live at Tottenham. I was sent for to Mrs. Cambridge on the night of the 6th of November, but I did not see her myself till the 7th—my assistant went—there was very slight general indisposition on the 7th—I saw her between five and six o'clock in the afternoon—she gave me a description of what her sensations had been—I should think she was not at all recovered from the symptoms she described to me—she never suffered pain, from what I understood—but the vomiting continued—she complained much of sickness—that still continued when I saw her, and the vomiting—she also complained of lassitude—the pulse was rather lower than usual—her tongue very dry, and a little furred—I questioned her particularly as to the commencement of her illness—she stated she was taken ill soon after swallowing some tea—the first symptom she felt was sickness—my assistant is not here—she gave me a

description of her sensations from the time she was first attacked; I should say she was labouring under irritation of the stomach—I am acquainted with the action of arsenic—the symptoms she described, and those I observed, were such as I should expect from a person having imbibed arsenic—one symptom would be to lower the pulse—the heat of the skin and fur on the tongue arose from irritation of the stomach—it is the action of the stomach—the symptoms were so slight when I saw her, that had hers been an individual case, and I had seen nobody else labouring under similar symptoms, and not heard the history of it, I should not have supposed her to have taken arsenic—I heard the history of it from herself—and from the account she gave, and the observations I made, I am still of opinion that the symptoms are to be accounted for by her taking arsenic—the symptoms she described might have been produced by taking arsenic—confining myself merely to the symptoms, I should not have been able clearly to have detected arsenic—they were not to that degree that are usually seen—that would depend on how soon the offending matter would be thrown from the stomach; it being taken in solution, and sickness following immediately, I have no doubt the whole of it was thrown off her stomach, it would leave such symptoms as I found when I saw her—the whole of the ejections from the stomach had been thrown away when I saw her—the sickness being continued, but being unaccompanied with pain, and twenty-four hours having passed, I conclude no arsenic could have remained—I took about two ounces of tea from the tea-canister myself—the tea in the canister was covered with something—I could not positively say by looking at it what it was that was mixed with it, nor by the taste of it; I had very little doubt of it, but could not speak positively—arsenic has no smell—I believe it is also tasteless—I took it home to my house to send it to town by my brother, who is a professional man, was going to town the following day—he went, but forgot it—I then requested my assistant to forward it to a gentleman in town, to have it tested, which he did—he is not here—I have no doubt that the portion which was afterwards analyzed was the portion I got from the canister—I cannot identify it as the same—a portion was preserved, but afterwards thrown away, as I understood no prosecution was to follow.

Q. What proportion, in your judgment, did the matter which was mixed with the tea in the canister, bear to the tea itself? A. Perhaps about one-sixteenth in weight—arsenic is very heavy—I should think there were five or six ounces of tea in the canister—twenty grains of arsenic are sufficient to produce death—that depends on the constitution—I believe four and a half grains have been known to do it—I observed, perhaps, forty grains on the surface of the tea.

MRS. CAMBRIDGE re-examined. I put three spoonfuls of tea into the tea-pot.

MR. MOON re-examined. I should think that would contain at least a drachm of arsenic.

COURT. Q. Do not you think one grain of arsenic received into the stomach and left there would be sufficient to account for the symptoms? A. If taken in a metallic state—arsenic is very easily dissolved in boiling water—I have not examined any stomachs after death with arsenic in them—the effect of arsenic, if it remains on the stomach, is to destroy the coat of the stomach, but life might be destroyed without that—I think one grain remaining on the stomach would not be sufficient to account for the symptoms she described—I think four or five grains would do it—I should think there would be nearly sixty grains taken out in the three spoonfuls—that is sufficient to kill half a dozen people, unless the effect is immediate sickness,

which throws it off the stomach—I had not the means of ascertaining what it was at the time—I had not the apparatus.

Prisoner. I have nothing more to say than that the young man is innocent.

GUILTY.— DEATH . Aged 20.

Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of her previous good character, and having been convicted principally upon her own confession; and by the Prosecutrix, on account of her good character.

Second Jury, before Mr. Justice Patteson.

ROBERT KIRBY.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-473
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceDeath

Related Material

473. ROBERT KIRBY was indicted for feloniously and burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Worwood about the hour of seven in the night of the 13th of January, at St. Leonard, Shoreditch, with intent to steal, and stealing therein 1 coat, value 2l. 10s.; 1 waistcoat, value 14s.; 1 pair of trowsers, value 7s.; 1 gown, value 26s.; 2 pillow-cases, value 1s. 3d.; 4 shifts, value 3s.; 4 petticoats, value 5s.; 2 bed-gowns, value 5s.; 1 key, value 1s.; 1 shirt, value 4s.; 1 apron, value 3d.; and 2 frocks, value 3s.; the goods of the said John Worwood.

JOHN WORWOOD . I live at No. 9, Ann's-place, Hoxton, in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch—I am a married man, but have no family—I and my wife live in the house, and a child which I have to look after; I have no lodgers. On the 13th of January I went out between four and five o'clock in the afternoon; it was about half-past four—I am sure it was after four, but I cannot exactly say how much—my wife and the child went with me—nobody was left in the house—I made the doors and windows all fast, I am quite certain—I came home about twelve o'clock, and my wife with me—I found the back window open, and a square of glass cut out—the window was right up two feet high—any body could get in there—the door leading into the yard was open—I had left both the doors and windows double-bolted inside—the drawers were stripped of every thing—I missed a coat, waistcoat, trowsers, a silk gown, two pillow-cases, a petticoat, bedgown, and several other things—some of them were up stairs and some down—I have seen the coat again, and found a key of the front room up stairs in the pocket of it—it had been in the coat the last time I wore it.

Cross-examined by MR. PHILLIPS. Q. Is the dwelling-house your own? A. It is not my own—I rent it, and live in it—I have no servant—I am certain I tried the door when I went out, and it was quite fast—I know a boy named Holloway by sight—he was not taken up.

SARAH WORWOOD . I am the prosecutor's wife. I went out with him—I looked at the back parlour window, and fastened it myself—that is the window which was broken—we returned at twelve o'clock, and missed two bed-gowns, two pillow-cases, and three petticoats, and other things.

JAMES GLIBBERY . I am a policeman. I apprehended the prisoner—I saw him in the North-road, Hoxton, about a quarter before eight o'clock on the night of the 13th of January, about a quarter of a mile from the prosecutor's house—there was a lad by his side at the time I first saw him—he was going away from the prosecutor's house when I first saw him, and carrying a bundle under his arm—I asked him what he had got there—he told me a bundle of linen—I asked him where he got it from—he said he brought it from his mother, who was a laundress, and was going to take it to some gentleman's house by Smithfield—I asked him what it contained—he said he did not know whether it was shirts or sheets—I asked him if they were ironed or mangled—he said he did not know—I said I was not satisfied, and took him to the station-house, and took the bundle, which I produce.

MRS. WORWOOD re-examined. I know these things—they are what were lost that night—some of them have marks—there is "S. W." on some of them.

(George Tyson, glass-cutter, Land of Promise, Hoxton; Francis Trevise, glass manufacturer, Nottingham-place, Kingsland-road; and James Strayton, glass-cutter, Silver-street, deposed to the prisoner's good character.)

GUILTY.— DEATH . Aged 19.

Second Jury, before Mr. Justice Vaughan.

RICHARD.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-474
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceDeath

Related Material

474. RICHARD JUSTICE was indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Brown, about the hour of two in the night of the 21st of January, at St. Mary, Islington, Middlesex, with intent the goods and chattels therein feloniously and burglariously to steal.

GEORGE CALLIS . I was in the service of William Brown, a linen-draper, in the parish of St. Mary, Islington. On the 22nd of January, I slept in the shop, which fronts the street, and goes backwards—I went to bed about eleven o'clock—I am the only person who slept there—the windows and doors were all safe—there is a back window facing the garden—I put the shutter up to that window, put a bar across it, and bolted it—the window is a large square in the shape of a door—it is large enough to admit a man through it—it opens, and has a rail before it with a sort of door to it—the window is more than one square, but there is one square in it which opens—there are about twelve squares to the window—one of them will open large enough to admit the body of a man—the other windows and doors were all properly secured—the dwelling-house is over the shop, and the family sleep up stairs—nobody could have come down, and done any thing to the window after I was in bed—about two o'clock in the morning of the 22nd, I heard a noise, similar to rats—it continued about half an hour—I then heard it where the rats are not generally in the habit of coming—that excited my suspicions—I still listened, and heard a hem from a human voice—I was not certain whether it was in the next house, or in the shop—I sat up in bed, and listened very attentively—I got hold of the rattle, and turned one notch round, and said, "Is there any one there?"—every thing was then still, which I thought strange, as making a noise does not make the rats quiet—I then got a piece of serge which laid close to me, and threw it towards where I heard the noise—I still heard some noise, and turned the rattle round again, and said, "Is there any one there?"—I received no answer—the counter just comes in contact with my head as I sit in bed—I still heard the noise—I waited till it came over the fan-light, and I was looking down the counter, and by the reflection of the light from the fan-light, I thought I saw something move—I sprang up, and inquired who was there, but received no answer—I immediately jumped upon him, and seized on him, I struck his head with the rattle, which broke—I then struck him with the handle of the rattle, and he called out "Murder"—I dragged him out of the shop into the passage, and gave the alarm—it was the prisoner—the family got up—I got a light, and examined the back window—before the light was brought down, I dragged him to the place where I first struck him, and when the light came, I saw where he had got in—the window was wide open, and the shutter down—the single pane of glass was thrown wide open—it was all quite secure when I went to bed—it is large enough for the prisoner to get in, and he could not have got in at any other place—there are several gardens behind the house—there is a railing to our garden, and the other gardens have a wall to them—it was snowy weather—it had been snowing that night, and there was

snow on the ground—the policeman has traced the foot-marks in it since—I found three chisels a few yards from where the prisoner had got in, on the floor—the shop is about twelve yards long—he was given to the policeman, sod a chisel or screw-driver was found on him, a candle, a knife, a comb, and a necklace of beads, and some songs and paints—I did not know him before.

Prisoner. He said before the magistrate that he forgot to bolt the window. Witness. That is wrong—I put up the shutter and bar, and the iron bolt into the bar; but a screw, which screws the bolt, was wanting—I said that before the magistrate; but I am certain the bar was secured with the bolt—there are about 10,000l. worth of goods in the shop.

JAMES RUSSELL (police-constable.) On the night in question, I was called in, about three o'clock, and went to Mr. Brown's premises—I found the prisoner there, leaning on the counter, with his hand to his head, which was bleeding—it had a cut on it—I searched him, and in his left hand coat pocket I found a screw-driver, a candle, and a knife—I saw Callis take three chisels from the floor—I asked the prisoner next morning coming from the station-house to Hatton-garden, how he became possessed of the three chisels—I did not make him any threat or promise—he said he used them in his business, as a brass pattern founder—I never saw him before—I went out to the back window when I took him—it was then snowing—I traced foot-marks from the window across four gardens; then across a nine-inch wall—I did not compare them with the prisoner's shoes—he must have come from Stud-street over eight or nine gardens.

Prisoner. Neither of them are chisels. Witness. Here they are—I call them chisels (producing them)

Prisoner's Defence. I left my home, which is in Cornwall, to go to Liverpool, to my brother's, who is a brass-founder—I had no money, and sold all my tools for nine shillings—that brought me to Hounslow, and there I got a lift by a van—I bought a penny candle, to give me a light in the van—when I came to London; I asked the way to the Liverpool-road, to go to Liverpool—I was all day finding out the road—I get up to St. John-street about seven or eight o'clock in the evening—when I came up to where this man lives, there was a yard, where there were some workmen—I went in, and there found a quantity of horse-hair—I slept there till it came on towards daylight, and I thought 1 would go on—I found the door bolted, and could not get over the way I came—I tried to make the best of my way out—I went over several gardens, but could find no passage—I saw a light through this gentleman's window, coming from the front of the house—I put my hand to the shutter—it was not bolted, and it opened, and the window opened—I got through, and as I went along I felt a parcel of cloth, but did not touch it—I was there more than twenty minutes—I was trying to find the door, to get into the street—I heard this person say, "What do you do there?"—I thought it was somebody in the street—in a minute or two I heard something rattle—he said, "What do you do there?"—I made my way to the window again, and thought if I could get out, it would do—when I got lack between that man and the window, he said, "Let it be man or devil, I will see who it is"—he hit me with the rattle several times—I told him to be quiet, and I would go with him—he kept knocking me on the head till he broke the rattle, and cut my head in three places—I was senseless for some minutes—he began to knock for assistance, and they came and took me.

JAMES RUSSELL re-examined. He must have come from Stud-street to

get to the gardens—there is a passage out of Stud-street leading to a school-room, and he must clamber over a wall six feet high into a garden, and come along from Stud-street into Theberton-street, over Mr. Goodburn's wall, and six walls to get to this house—it was a moon-light night, and snowing fast.

Prisoner. I did not clamber over any wall—there was a shop with horse-hair in it—I thought it was daylight, and thought I would go—I then got over the walls to try to get out.

GUILTY.— DEATH . Aged 16.

Third Jury, before Mr. Justice Patteson.

THOMAS JOHNSON.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-475
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceDeath

Related Material

475. THOMAS JOHNSON was indicted for feloniously assaulting Charles Brooks, on the 25th of January, at St. Mary, Matfelon, alias Whitechapel, putting him in fear, and taking from his person, and against his will, 1 watch-chain, value 8d.; and 1 watch-key, value 2d.; his goods; and that he, at the delivery of the King's gaol of Newgate, holden on the 15th of May, was convicted of felony, by the name of Thomas Wilbraham.

CHARLES BROOKS . On the evening of the 25th of January, I was going along the Commercial-road with my wife, between seven and eight o'clock, and just by Plumber's-row the prisoner met me in the breast—I felt two or three more surround us behind—I could feel them behind me pressing us close together—the prisoner was in front of me—there was a gas-light just over our heads—the prisoner's face was close to mine, and his body against mine—I could distinguish his countenance well, and I am certain he is the man—I told him to go on, or let me pass—with that I felt my watch coming up my fob—the prisoner had not touched me before that, only put his breast against mine—the persons behind were still touching me—I said, "You are after my watch, are you?"—I put my hand down to my watch first, and then said so—he made a sudden pull, and my chain parted from my watch, and he was gone in a moment down Plumber's-row—I had no seal—he got no thing but the chain and key—he ran off—the policeman came up directly, and went after him, and brought him back—he was not out of my sight at all.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. Have you always been certain the prisoner was the man? A. Yes; I never expressed a doubt as to his being the person who came in front of me—I went to the station-house—I did not say I did not think he was the man—I do not recollect having any conversation with the policeman apart from the prisoner—I was at the station-house about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I do not recollect speaking to the policeman, or he to me—the policeman brought him up to me to the lamp, and said, "Is that the man?"—I said, "It is"—I did not express a doubt about him at the station-house—I have lived about eighteen years about Fashion-street, and his face was quite familiar to me—there was no one in front of me but him—the chain has not been found—it was brass.

DANIEL SUGG . I am a policeman. On the 25th of January, I came up to the prosecutor, and saw the prisoner in front of him—there were two gas-lights right over his head—I had seen him about the street several times—I saw him snatch the chain from the prosecutor's fob—there were some persons behind him, but I could not distinguish them—I was in front of Brooks—I saw the prisoner snatch the chain, and run up Plumber's-row, and I after him—I never lost sight of him—I caught him about fifty yards from the row—I am quite sore of him.

Cross-examined. Q. What time elapsed from your first seeing him, and apprehending him? A. It did not exceed a minute and a half the whole transaction—I came up at the instant he pulled the chain—he snatched the chain the instant I came up—no one else was in front—there were several behind—I never said there was somebody else in front.

WILLIAM CHADWICK . I am a policeman. I have a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction—I was present when he was tried at the sessions after the 20th of April, in the New Court, by the name of Thomas Wilbraham.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you present at the former trial? A. Yes—I am quite certain he is the man—I was a witness. (Certificate read.)

Prisoner's Defence. I left home about half-past five o'clock—I had been to Mr. Freeman's, in Zion-square—when I got to Plumbers'-row, there was a mob of about twenty persons round—I got nearly down there, when the policeman came and said, "I want you"—he took me to the gentleman, and said, "Is this him?"—he said, "I don't think it is him;" and his wife said the same—at the station-house I heard the policeman say to the old gentleman, "You will swear to him, then;" and then he came and swore to me very hard.

GUILTY — DEATH . Aged 19.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor on account of the respectability of his parents.

Third Jury, before Mr. Justice Patteson.

GEORGE WILSON, JAMES PARKER.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-476
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceDeath; Death

Related Material

476. GEORGE WILSON and JAMES PARKER were indicted for feloniously assaulting Susan Tillit, on the 27th of January, at St. Giles, Camberwell, putting her in fear, and taking from her person 1 handkerchief, value 3s.; and 1 gown, value 2l. 2s., the goods of John Paul.

SUSAN TILLIT . On the 27th of January, I was going along the Coburg-road, in the parish of Camberwell, at half-past six o'clock in the evening—I heard footsteps behind me, and the prisoner Wilton passed on a few yards before me—I was on the left hand side of the road, and he on the right—I saw him come across the road to meet me—he met me and seized me by the collar and throat—I was dressed as I am now—he snatched my bundle from me, which I was carrying in my hand, at the same time as he took me by the collar—I immediately turned round, and called, "Stop thief"—he ran down a turning in the Coburg-road—there was another man behind me—I saw them both running together—I had not seen that person before Wilson came up—I only heard footsteps behind me—it was done very quick—it did not occupy above a minute or two—there was a gas-lamp about a dozen yards from me—it threw the light on Wilson's face—I could not see the other man's face, nor could I describe his dress—the bundle contained a gown—it was tied up in a silk handkerchief—there were some pieces of silk in the bundle with the dress—it was one or two pieces of silk pinned up together—I have seen the handle since.

Wilson. Q. Did you not state, when I was taken, that you could not swear to me? A. I was at the station-house when he came in without a hat—I did not speak positively; but immediately he put on his hat, I recognised him—I did not say I could not swear to him.

Q. Did you not say at the office that Parker took you by the throat? A. I made a mistake in the name—it was Wilson—I fully recognised him at the station-house after he put his hat on.

Wilson. At the time I was taken there was a flaw in the indictment—ulter she said I was the person, she said it was Parker, and it was altered—

I asked who it was altered it, and it was said it was the clerk's fault, and not hers—I do not think it should have been altered.

Witness. When Wilson put on his hat I was positive of him, and have always persisted in it from that time to this.

ALFRED PAUL . On the 27th of January I was watching in the Coburg-road, in consequence of information which I had—soon after seven o'clock, I met Phillips with the prisoner Wilson a short distance from Coburg-road—I turned down the Coburg-road, and within a few yards of the turning I met Parker with the bundle under his arm, about 150 yards from where I had met Wilson—I followed Parker—he turned down the Kent-road towards Greenwich—he still had the bundle under his arm—I was close behind him—I ran almost to keep up with him—he turned into the Lord Nelson public-house—I stood outside a few moments, and then went into the public-house, and as I went in Parker came out—from what I heard from the landlady, I ran out and caught him a few yards from the door—I asked him if he wanted a policeman—he said, "What?" and seemed confused—I asked him a second time, and he said he did—I told him if he turned back with me I would take him to a policeman, but I took him into the Lord Nelson, and took the bundle from him—I found it was this dress—I detained him, and sent for a policeman to give him in charge—I took the bundle from him—I went next morning to the place where the prosecutrix described that the man had run up, and found there was no thoroughfare, and at the very extremity of the turning I picked up these pieces of silk, which are the same pattern as the dress—I examined the bundle when I took it from him—there was a dress in it—it appeared as if it had been opened and rolled up in a smaller compass—I gave it to the policeman at the station-house.

Parker. Q. You said you took the bundle from me before you went to the public-house; did not you take it up when I put it down before the landlady?—I said, "I want a policeman, I have found this"—did not you take it off from where I laid it on the bar? A. No, I did not, I took it from under your arm, and opened it on the bar; I think I took it form him inside the public-house, just as he entered the door.

RICHARD PHILLIPS . I am a policeman. On the 27th January I was on duty in the Albany-road, at the bottom leading into the Kent-road—the prosecutrix came to me and gave me information—I went to watch, and in about twenty minutes I saw Wilson coming up from the turning where she said she had lost the bundle—he was sneaking up underneath the wall in Coburg-road, about twenty yards from where she told me she had lost her dress—he had no bundle with him—I asked him what he was doing there—he told me he was trying to get a few halfpence, and that he was a gentleman's servant out of employ—I asked him where he lived—he said in Kent-street—he did not know the number, but it was the name of Mrs. Price—I said he answered the description of a person who had robbed a lady of a dress—I took him to the station-house—I did not see the last witness, to my recollection—I was at the station-house when the prosecutrix came—she recognised him after he put his hat on, but not at first—she never said she was not certain of him after he had put his hat on—I searched him, and found a duplicate on him for a shirt—I then asked him where he had been on the previous night—he said to Kensington—the duplicate was for a shirt pawned at Kensington.

JAMES LONG (policeman R 150.) I have the bundle. I received it from Paul—Parker was given into my custody—I asked him, when I went into the Lord Nelson, where he got the bundle—he said he picked it up

down a dark turning, but he did not know where, as he was a stranger to the place—I said, "Where were you going?"—he said to Rochester.

SUSAN TILLIT . This is the dress that was taken from me that night, and the handkerchief it was in; and these pieces of silk are what were in the bundle—they are the same pattern as the dress.

Wilson's Defence. I know nothing of the robbery—I have been a gentleman's servant, but am out of employ; and being in a strange country, could get no work—distress compelled me to ask people for a few halfpence to pay for my lodging—going by this public-house, an occasion took me to go down this place—I went up, and was not there half a minute, when I met the policeman, and the woman with him—he asked where I had been—I said, I had occasion to go up there—he said, "You are just the person described to me as doing a robbery"—I said, "I am willing to answer any charge"—I went to the station-house—I told him I had been going to get a few halfpence to pay for my lodging.

Parker's Defence. I was out of work, and accidentally found the bundle, as I was going to ease myself down this place—I was on my way to Rochester.

WILSON— GUILTY.— DEATH . Aged 19.

PARKER— GUILTY.— DEATH . Aged 28.

LONDON AND MIDDLESEX LARCENIES, &c.

OLD COURT, Monday, February 2, 1935.

First Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

EDGAR CARLTON.
2nd February 1835
Reference Numbert18350202-477
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceTransportation

Related Material

477. EDGAR CARLTON was indicted for stealing, on the 26th of January, 1 handkerchief, value 4s., the goods of George Wintle Roberts, from his person.

GEORGE WINTLE ROBERTS . I am a merchant, and live at Park-terrace, Islington. On the evening of the 26th of January, about ten minutes past nine o'clock, I was in the City-road—a caravan standing there drew my attention—I stopped for a moment—I felt a rustling behind me—I suspected I had lost something—I turned round immediately, and observed the prisoner thrusting my handkerchief into his breast—I collared him and charged him with the robbery, and endeavoured to drag him from the people—I got him some distance, and intended to give him in charge—he said he had not stolen it, but that boy had, pointing to another person, who I should not think could have taken it, my handkerchief having been on the other side—I had taken my handkerchief at the same time I collared him—I dragged him about ten yards—he made great resistance, and endeavoured to throw me—he forced himself back into the crowd—the caravan had then gone some little distance—when he found he could not throw me, he stooped down, thrust his head between my legs, and threw me down with great violence—my head was very much injured, and cut in two places—I was stunned, but as soon as I recovered, I seized him again, and I suppose when he tossed me, I had struck him with my knee, as he was then rising—I made a grasp at him, and dragged him some distance—he made strong resistance, and several of the mob came up, and felt me round my pockets, three of them got hold of me, and struck me—I called to the policeman, and the persons about me called out, "Go it, go it," as if it were a fight—

I called till the officer came and took him—I delivered the handkerchief to the officer—the treatment I received was so severe, that I have been under medical hands; and on Saturday last I was bled—they struck me on the sides, and down the arm, in endeavouring to rescue the prisoner—this is my handkerchief.

Prisoner. I told the gentleman to take that lad, and three or four people saw him throw the handkerchief down—I pointed him out to the gentleman, and he saw him run. Witness. I turned so suddenly, that I do not think any one could have taken it but the prisoner—I believe the persons who came up were his own gang.

JEREMIAH CALLAHAN (police-constable G 108.) On the night of the 26th, I saw the prosecutor with the prisoner in the midst of the crowd—he gave him to me for stealing a handkerchief—I did not see the mob use any violence to the prosecutor—I had some difficulty in getting in, which I considered was that the prisoner might make his escape.

Prisoner. The handkerchief was muddy where it was thrown down by the boy, who was not five yards behind him—there was a gentleman came up, who saw him throw it down—I asked him to go to the station-house, but he s