Old Bailey Proceedings.
27th February 1843
Reference Number: t18430227

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
27th February 1843
Reference Numberf18430227

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Taken in Short-hand,








On the Queen's Commission of the Peace,



The City of London,





Held on Monday, February 27th, 1843, and following Days.

Before the Right Honourable JOHN HUMPHERY , LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Right Honourable Sir Nicholas Conyngham Tindal, Knt., Lord Chief Justice of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir John Williams, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir John Taylor Coleridge, Knt., one other of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir William Heygate, Bart.; Anthony Brown, Esq.; Matthias Prime Lucas, Esq.; Charles Farebrother, Esq.; William Taylor Copeland, Esq.; Thomas Kelly, Esq.; Samuel Wilson, Esq.; and Sir Chapman Marshall, Knt.; Aldermen of the said City: the Honourable Charles Ewan Law, Recorder of the said City: Thomas Wood, Esq.; William Magnay, Esq.; Michael Gibbs, Esq.; John Johnson, Esq.; John Kinnersly Hooper, Esq.; and Sir James Duke, Knt.; Aldermen of the said City: John Mirehouse, Esq., Common Sergeant of the said City; and Edward Bullock, Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.


First Jury

Charles Forbes

Isaac Victor

Thomas Hayward

Felix Henry Hyatt

John Gillingwater

Arthur Fladgate

James G. Elcock

James Hints

John Alfred Edgar

Richard H. Harding

Thomas Bompas

Timothy Stevens

Second Jury.

George Enoch

Edward Fothergill

John Gurney

Charles Frostick

Edward England

John East

Richard W. Fairland

John Eastland

Thomas King

Samuel Hallett

John S. Elliott

Jacob Winton

Third Jury.

William Routledge

William Jewitt Hariss

Thomas Eves

Thomas Gardner

Thomas Innocent

George Henry Galloway

Richard Halton

William Haye

Robert Houst

Henry Wood

William White

Thomas Penrose Williams

Fourth Jury.

William Henry Evans

Samuel Franklin

John Gilbank

Joseph E. Guest

John Gill

Matthew Errington

William Engarfield

Charles Hart

William Highfold

John Camp Penn

Richard Stevens

Allen Holmes

Fifth Jury.

J. Herbert

James Hewlett

Richard Elston

William Hutchinson

Richard Hampshire

Thomas Hall

William Appleford

John Thomas Gray

Thomas Fogg

William Henderson

James Linnett

William Harey

Sixth Jury.

Raymond Wilsher

William Pope

Robert Pearce

Richard Harris

James Elliott

George Beckingham

Thomas Richards

William Henry Hillier

Thomas Purcell

Samuel Thomas Keene

Henry Barge Edwards

Frederick Stebbing



A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—Two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—An obelisk (†) that a prisoner is known to be the associate of bad characters.


OLD COURT.—Monday, February 27th, 1843.

First Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-836
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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836. THOMAS JOHNSON was indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 1 jar and cover, value 2l.; and 1 1/2lb. weight of snuff, 6s.; the goods of William Canavan; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 60.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-837
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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837. MARY GIBBS was indicted for stealing, on the 12th of Dec., 2 blankets, value 9s.; 2 shifts, 8s.; 1 table-cloth, 6s.; 5 sheets, 30s.; 2 shirs, 10s.; 1 petticoat, 1s.; 2 wrappers, 3s.; 1 handkerchief, 3s.; 2 pillow-cases, 2s.; and 1 towel, 6d.: also, on the 7th of Jan., 2 bed-gowns, 6s.; the goods of John Chapman, her master: to both of which she pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 49.— Confined One Year.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-838
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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838. JAMES JOHNSON was indicted for embezzling and stealing, on the 16th of Jan., 71l. 7s., which he had received on account of James Ivyleafe, his master.—2nd COUNT, for stealing an order for the payment of 71l. 7s. to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 33.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-839
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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839. JOHN SMITH was indicted for stealing 1 shovel, value 2s. 6d. the goods of Charles Yeoman; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 27.— Confined One Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-840
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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840. REBECCA WHITE was indicted for stealing, on the 8th of Feb., I purse, value 6d.; 1 sovereign, and 1 half-sovereign; the property of Robert M'Donald, from his person; and that she had been before convicted of felony.

ROBERT M'DONALD . I live in Ransby-conrt, Broadway, Ludgate-hill, and am a stone-mason. On the evening of the 8th of Feb. I was in Paternosterrow, and saw the prisoner there—as I was passing along sbe forcibly laid hold of me—I got from her, and proceeded down London-house-yard, to go to St. Paul's Churchyard—she followed me, and about half-way down the yard she again laid hold of me—I got from her—she got before me, detained me a minute or two, and I felt her hand leave my left-side trowsers pocket—I felt my pocket immediately after, and my purse, containing a sovereign and a halfsoveign, was gone—immediately I felt her hand leave my pocket she drew it underneath her clothes—I charged her with taking my money—she said she had not—I laid hold of both her hands—she got one hand loose, to show me that the money was not in her pocket—I then took hold of both her hands again, and asked her to give me the money up—she said she had not got it—a man and woman then came up who seemed in concert with her, and pushed against me—the man wanted to quarrel with me—I called for a policeman, who came up—I gave her in charge—I held her hands all the time, so that she had no communication with the other parties—I looked on the

ground, but could not see my purse—when I got to the station, she was searched, and nothing found on her—she then said I ought to be searched, and that my purse was in my right side coat pocket—I then found it there, empty—she had stood up by my side while I was giving the charge, and had her hands at liberty then.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. This took place close to your residence? A. Not close—when she accosted me I had both my hands in my pocket, and felt my purse safe in my left trowsers pocket—my hand was tight down on my purse—I felt her hand leaving my pocket—she immediately drew it under her clothes—I then felt my money was gone, and laid hold of her hand immediately—this was in London-house-yard—I saw nobody by till the party came up and pushed against us—I was quite sober—I bad hold of her hands all the time—at the station, when she found she was to be remanded, after entreating me not to appear against her, she said I ought to be searched, and if searched, my purse would be found in my right hand coat pocket—I swear she said so—the policeman has not said any thing to me—I had been to Bell-alley, and was going to Drury-lane—I had spent no money that evening, and can swear there was no silver in my purse—I am in the service of Mr. Jackson, at the Royal Exchange—I had a taglioni coat on.

HENRY MILLS (City police-constable, No. 353.) I took the prisoner to the station—she was searched, but nothing found—after being searched, she returned from the cell, and wished the inspector to search the prosecutor—he said that was impossible—she said he had the property about him—he said he was certain he had not—she told him to feel in his right hand coat pocket, and he would find it there—he put his hand into that pocket, and drew out the empty purse, to his surprise.

Cross-examined. Q. Was not there another woman there on the charge? A. There was a woman at the station, but not on this charge—the female searcher searched her—she was not detained.

ADAM SPEARY . I am a policeman. I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction by the name of Ann Herbert, from the office of the Clerk of the Peace—(read)—I was present when she was tried, and know her to be the person.

GUILTY . Aged 22.— Transported for Ten Years.

(The prisoner has been five or six times in custody.)

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-841
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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841. FRANCIS CUMMINS was indicted for stealing, on the 1st of Feb., 1 printed book, value 2s. 6d., the goods of John Archibald Morrison; and that he had been before convicted of felony.

AUGUSTUS JOHN MANNING . I am a bookseller, and live in Cable-steet. On the 1st of Feb. I was standing at my door, and saw the prisoner go up to a stall about nine doors off, and walk towards my door—I walked towards him, and collared him, led him back to Morrison's door, called out "Morrison!" and by that time the prisoner took the book from under his jacket, and threw it on the pavement—I took it up, and gave it to Morrison.

JOHN ARCHIBALD MORRISON . I am a bookseller, and live in Cable-street. The prisoner was brought to my shop—the book he threw down is mine—I had placed it on my stall about two hours before—he said he would pay the value of the book if I would let him go.

Prisoner. I picked it off the ground to take into the shop.

AUGUSTUS JOHN MANNING re-examined. He brought it along under his jacket the distance of five houses.

HENRY BIGSWORTH (police-constable H 107.) The prisoner was given into my custody.

ENEAS M'ALLEN (police-constable K 95.) I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction, from the office of the Clerk of the Peace at clerkenwell—(read)—I know the prisoner to be the person—I was present.

GUILTY . Aged 14.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-842
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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842. WILLIAM WATTS was indicted for stealing, on the 7th of Feb., 22lbs. weight and 6lbs. weight of copper, the goods of Frank Clark Hills, his master.

WILLIAM BRIDGES . I am a Thames police river constable. On the 7th of Feb., between six and seven o'clock in the evening, I stopped the prisoner in the West India Dock-road—his jacket appeared bulky—I asked what he had about him—he said, "A little lead"—I said, "Where did you get it?"—he said he picked it up at Millwall where he landed—I took him to the station—I cautioned him not to answer me—he said he worked at Mr. Mills's chemical works—I went, and saw Mills's foreman, who identified the lead and some copper, which the prisoner had hanging in front of him, and the lead slung at the back, under his jacket—they weighed 22lbs. together.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you know him before? A. No—I went to his house, and found his wife and eight children miserably off, five of them in bed, with scarcely any covering—they had nothing in the house to get a breakfast.

HORTON HARRILD . I am in the employ of Frank Clark Hills, at Deptford—the prisoner worked for him about five months—he had 18s. a-week, and a little over-time made 1l. a-week—I firmly believe this to be Mr. Hill's property—we have no mark on the lead, and have 200 or 300 pieces of the sort on the premises—the copper is of very peculiar construction, made for a locomotive engine, and I am quite sure of that—it has been laying about for two or three years.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you miss a piece of copper? A. Yes—we had a very excellent character with the prisoner.

GUILTY . Aged 39.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined One Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-843
VerdictNot Guilty > no prosecutor

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843. JOHN HOLE was indicted for assaulting Mary Clark, with intent, &c.

The prosecutrix not appearing, the prisoner was ACQUITTED .

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-844
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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844. MARY CROFT was indicted for stealing, on the 15th of Feb., 51 yards of carpet, value 18s., the goods of George Taylor; and that she had been before convicted of felony.

GEORGE NIGHTINGALE (City police-constable, No. 633.) On the morning of the 15th of Feb., I was on duty at the corner of Spital-square, Bishops-gate, and the prisoner passed me with a large bundle wrapped in a shawl—about 150 yards from the prosecutor's I stopped her, and asked what she had there—she made no answer—I pulled her shawl on one side, and saw it was a roll of new carpet—I asked where she had it from—she said from Shoreditch—I asked who it belonged to—she said it was hers—I took her to the prosecutor's shop, and he claimed it—I had received information of the loss about a quarter of an hour before.

GEORGE TAYLOR . I am a linendraper, and live in Bishopsgate-street-without. I saw my carpet safe at my door about half-past ten o'clock in the morning, and missed it a little after eleven—in consequence of information from a female, I ran up the street, but could see nobody—I told the policeman, and he shortly after brought the prisoner back, with the carpet—this now produced is it—I have no private mark on it, but just before it was taken I had noticed this yellow tuft on it—it was ticketed at 4 1/2 d. a yard.

ROBERT WHITTLETON (police-constable K 152.) I produce a certificate of

the prisoner's former conviction—I am certain she is the same person—I was present at her trial—(read.)

GUILTY . Aged 20.— Transported for Seven Years.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, Feb. 28th, 1843.

Second Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-845
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown

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845. MARK BENJAMIN BENHAM, GEORGE EDWARD CHAMP , and JOHN MATTHEW MUNYARD , were indicted for a conspiracy.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.

RICHARD EDMUND GOODRICH . I am deputy clerk of appearances of the Court of Queen's Bench—I produce an affidavit of service in the cause of Benham against Myers—I do not know the prisoner Champ.

EDWARD JOSEPH BODY . I am a clerk in the Writ office of the Queen's Bench—I produce an original precipe for a writ of summons from our office—this writ (looking at it) is an original writ issued from our office—I produce another precipe for a testatem capias ad satisfaciendum in the same action, dated the 21st of August, 1842.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. What do you know about that writ? A. No further than it was presented at our office to be signed, and a precipe was filed at the same time—I do not remember the transaction further than that our seal is attached to it.

COURT. Q. Is it the course of your office to issue a writ on a precipe? A. Yes—we never issue one without the writ was issued from our office—it is entered in our books in the regular way.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Have you the books here? A. No—the writ is not produced from our office.

STEPHEN HALL . I am clerk to the Under-Sheriff of Middlesex. I produce two original writs of ca. sa. and fi. fa. In the action of Benham against Myers.

JOHN OSMOND . I am clerk in the Rule office of the Queen's Bench. I produce eleven original affidavits, which were sent to us from the Judges' chambers.

JOSEPH FREDERICK COLEMAN . I am clerk to Mr. Justice Cresswell. These are the affidavits which were used on both sides, in the cause of Benham against Myers—they were sent from the Judges' chambers to the Master's office—here is a joint affidavit of Benham and Champ (marked B)—I swore the persons who made that affidavit—here is another affidavit, (marked A,) made by Mark Benjamin Benham, Sarah Benham, George Asher, and George Edward Champ—I swore two of those deponents, Mark Benjamin Benham, and Sarah Benham—Mr. Bailey swore the other two, on a different day—here is an affidavit of Asher alone—I produce a summons which was heard before Mr. Justice Cresswell.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did you see Champ at chambers at all? A. No—the only person I knew in the proceedings was Benham, I saw him there—when the cause was on before the Judge I was in and out of the room.

JOHN BAILEY . I am clerk to Mr. Justice Patteson. I swore George Asher and George Edward Champ to this joint affidavit—I also saw swore Asher to this other affidavit.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. You do not know Asher, I presume? A. No.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. On what occasion were those affidavits sworn? A. I have no recollection—I have no recollection of any summons being

issued—this summons produced by Mr. Coleman was issued by me—I-have authority from Mr. Justice Patteson to issue summonses—this summons was issued in pursuance of such authority.

MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. What authority? A. A general authority, as clerk to the Judge—I signed it in Mr. Justice Patteson's name—every summons issued from chambers is signed by the clerk in the Judge's name.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDREGAST. Q. His lordship knew nothing about it, in fact? A. No—I believe he was oat of town when I issued the summons.

ALEXANDER BENJAMIN . I am a watch manufacturer. I saw this affidavit (marked A) signed by the parties Benham, Champ, Munyard, and Asher—I also saw Benham and Champ sign this other affidavit (B.)

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Where did you see these signed? A. At the Judges' chambers—I saw Benham and Champ put their names together at the same place—I cannot say whether they took the same pen one after the other—Benham signed first—it was not in the Judges' chambers, but at a little bar like, in the hall chambers—I saw Champ there—I had never seen him before—I was not close enough to see whether they both took the same pen—I was standing perhaps three or four feet distance when they were signing that paper—I will swear I saw them both sign it—I was close enough to see them write—I was at the chambers at the hearing of the summons—I was not inside where the Judge was sitting—I did not see Champ go in to the Judge—he did not go in—Benham had no attorney—he attended for himself—no one attended with him that I saw—I have seen him with Munyard and Champ—he was not attended by any person as his attorney at the hearing of the summons—Benham went in to the Judge—several persons went in at the same time—no one went in as his attorney—he had no attorney, so far as I saw—after Champ signed the affidavit I saw him walk up and down the place with Benham—I stopped is the place five or ten minutes, and left them there together—I know Champ did not go in to the Judge, because I was there when they went in to the Judge—I waited till they went in, and afterwards I left—I think that was not long after they signed the affidavit.

Q. How long after was it before it was heard by the Judge? A. I do not know whether it was on the same affidavit they were signing that the case was tried on—I was there several days, and saw several papers signed—it was the affidavit of the 16th of Sept. that I saw Benham and Champ sign—I cannot say whether it was on that day or not that Benham went in before the Judge—I cannot recollect the day—I recollect seeing them sign—I do not know whether it was on that particular paper that they went in, but I saw Benham go into the chamber before the Judge—I cannot say whether it was on that day I saw them sign an affidavit, or what I supposed was an affidavit—I did not see them sworn—I swear I saw them sign this paper, for it is their handwriting most decidedly—I swear I saw them sign it.

COURT. Q. How do you know that it is the paper you saw them sign? A. I will not take upon myself to swear distinctly that that is the identical paper they signed on that day.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. You never saw Champ before that day? A. I cannot positively swear that it was on that day—I cannot recollect the dates—I was told he was Champ the first time I saw him at the chambers—I do not know whether it was the 16th, 17th, or the 20th—I saw them sign several papers—I cannot say what day it was I taw this signed.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. How came you to be so much at the Judges' chambers? A. I went with the solicitor—I took an active part in this case to serve the prosecutor—he sent for me on the 1st of Sept., and

ever since that time I was always let know whatever was going forward—I have known Benham about four years—there is no family connexion between us—I am visiting at his house as a friend—I have seen him write several times at the prosecutor's house—I have seen him sign his name—I am no relation of the prosecutor's, nor in his employ—we do a little business together—I never had any business with Benham—I can swear to his handwriting out of a thousand—I have seen him write, and have seen several letters of his written to his mother—I have seen him sign his name several times at his mother's house—I know enough of his handwriting to say positively that this signature to the affidavit is his—I saw him sign it—I cannot say as to the date, but I have seen him sign several papers at the chambers—when he came to Myers's house, he was in the habit of taking a sheet of paper and scribbling his name over it.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Were you able to tell whether the letters you saw purporting to come from him to his mother, were his handwriting? A. Yes—I believe this signature to be his handwriting—I saw Champ three or four times at the Judges' chambers, and I think twice saw him sign his name to documents.

MR. GOODRICH re-examined. I produce, from the Appearance Office, an affidavit of the service of a writ of summons.

ALEXANDER NEEDHAM . I am a boat-builder, and live at Paul's-wharf, Upper Thames-street. I know Champ, and know his handwriting—I believe the signature to this affidavit of service to be bis handwriting, and also the signature to this affidavit (marked B) I consider to be Champ's—it is in a similar handwriting—I should not like to say positively—I consider it might be his handwriting—I should believe it to be his, rather than doubt it—the signature to this (marked A) I believe to be his.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How often have you seen him write? A. Three times—I said twice last sessions, but I have since recollected another occasion, when he wrote a letter from my place to a Mr. Weston—I forgot that at the time—the letter was written for a person to attend on me, but it was signed in his own name—I am sure I have seen him write his name three times—on one occasion I employed him to do some writing which was to be taken to Mr. Bodkin, to draw an indictment on—he was to give evidence on the draft of a title, and that point was headed with his name—the letter which he wrote to Mr. Weston I read over myself—I sat there while he wrote it—I expected I should have to put my name to it, but he signed his own name—I should believe the signature to this affidavit to be his handwriting—I could not swear to any person's handwriting, but to the best of my knowledge I should believe this to be his, and the other also—there is a little difference in the turn, an alteration between the "w" and the "d" of the "Edward," and the beginning of the "C" is a different stroke to what he usually writes—it is a very trifling difference—I do not speak with the least doubt whatever of his handwriting, though I would not swear to it—I never had a doubt—my premises are at Paul's-wharf—I have the ground of Hawkes and Co., and I pay 30l. a year ground-rent for the place I have built there—I live and carry on business there—I have no wharf—I do not mean to represent Paul's-wharf to be mine—I occupy a place for boat-building—the house is by the river side—the tide flows up to the door, and sometimes inside it—I have indicted a Mr. Roberts, an attorney, his clerk, and Mr. James, which indictment I expected would be tried here, but it was removed by certiorari—it was about that indictment that Champ was drawing up the paper for me—I have good reason for indicting those persons—they got James and Simmers against me, who were tried at this Court, and they gained a verdict against me in the Sheriffs' Court—it put me to a great expense

—I was obliged to sell off my property at Paul's-wharf to pay the expenses of this law affair—it now belongs to Mr. Higton—I have the household furniture—the boats are not mine at present—there have been no boats built on the premises since this transaction—there were two boats belonging to me, but I sold them—I sold all my stock—I am now employed by Mr. Higton to superintend the business there at weekly wages—he is a supervisor in the Excise, and is my brother-in-law—it is about two years since that I sold my boats—I do not recollect exactly—it was in the summer of last year—I owed money to various persons, and I thought I had better dispose of my property and pay it—it was money I had borrowed—it was a rascally case against me at the Sheriffs' Court, and I dare say I shall ultimately be ruined by the parties I have indicted—I owed money to Higton.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Look at the indorsement on that writ, "George Edward Champ," do you believe that to be Champ's handwriting? A. Yes—it is a different "G" to what he generally writes, but I believe it to be his handwriting.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Which of the signatures do you believe to be his, the upper or the lower one? A. The upper one I should say I consider to be his—the lower one resembles his—I believe them both to be his.

COURT. Q. Look at the rest that is written on the back, "This writ was issued by Mark Benjamin Benham," and so on; do you know that handwritting? A. It is similar to most of the writing that has been done for me by Champ—if I was to speak either way, I should consider the whole was written by Champ—from my knowledge of his writing, I believe it to be his.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Look at the indorsement again, and tell me whether you, on your oath, believe it to be Champ's handwriting? A. I believe it all to be one handwriting—this bottom part, "The plaintiff claims 382l. 10s. for debt, and 10l. costs," seems a different handwriting—I should not take that to be his—it might be—I must believe it not to be his—I believe the part beginning "issued in person" to be Champ's writing—I should not think the two handwritings to be the same—they may be, I cannot pretend to say.

ANN BENJAMIN . The prisoner Benham is my brother—I know his handwriting—this paper is his handwriting—(looking at the precipe for the writ of summons.)

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Look at that on the back of the writ, "The plaintiff claims," &c., whose is that? A. I think that is my brother's writing—the part beginning "issued in person" looks like his, but still I do not think this is his.

COURT. Q. That at the bottom is a great deal larger hand than the other, is it not? A. Yes—that at the bottom is my brother's, and that at the top is not.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. In whose writing do you believe the body of the writ to be, that part which is not printed? A. That is my brother's, I think—the endorsement on these two writs, I think, are my brother's writing.

(The precipe was here read, also the writ of summons, which bore the following indorsement, "This writ was issued in person, by Mark Benjamin Benham, who resides at No. 5, Frederick-place, Borough-road, in the parish of St. George the Martyr, Southwark, in the county of Surrey. This writ was served by me, George Edward Champ, on the defendant, on Wednesday, the 20th of July, 1842. George Edward Champ. The plaintiff claims 382l. 10s. for debt, and 10l. for costs; and if the amount be paid to the plaintiff within four days, further proceedings will be stayed." The writs of ca. sa. and fi.fa. were also read, and the summons of Mr. Justice Patteson, dated 7th September, 1842, calling on the

plaintiff to show cause why the proceedings should not be set aside, the defendant not having been served with any writ or paper in the cause.)

THOMAS EDWARDS . I am an officer of the Sheriff of Middlesex. I produce a warrant, by virtue of which I went into Mr. Myers' premises on the 9th of September—I remained in possession, under the warrant, until the 15th of October, and then I was relieved by another man.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Who gave you this warrant? A. I got it from Mr. Swain, the officer—he also instructed me where to go to.

WALTER KERTON . I am a clerk in the Judgment-office. I produce the judgment book, from the office, in which judgment appears to have been signed on the 30th of August, 1842, in the cause of Benham against Myers.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Is the entry in the book in your handwriting? A. No—I made up this judgment paper—the person who brought me this paper was the person at whose instance judgment was signed in the book—this judgment paper was signed by me on the 30th of August—I delivered it to the person who brought it to me, and the entry was made in our book, by the first clerk, Mr. Barlow, in my presence—I stamped this roll.

ANN BENJAMIN re-examined. This judgment paper is in my brother's handwriting, and this roll also.

WALTER KERTON re-examined. Upon judgment so signed, so entered, and so docketed, execution issued.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. This is a roll on which you issue a fi. fa? A. No, they do not require the production of the roll in nineteen cases out of twenty—they never carry in any rolls—this is no more than an incipitor of a record—if they want to give evidence they have an office copy of the roll complete—(the incipitor was here read.)

JOHN OSMOND re-examined. This is an original rule, issued from the Rule office, in the cause of Benham against Myers. (This was dated 16th Sept. 1842, ordering the proceedings to be set aside, the defendant not being served with notice of any writ or document in the cause.)

The joint affidavit of Benham and Champ, (marked A,) was here read, in which Benham, among other things, stated, that on Tuesday, the 21st of June, 1842, he, in presence of Asher, paid Myers the sum of 382l. 10s., and that an arrangement was made that certain furniture, &c., should be sent to No. 9, America-square; that having obtained a writ of summons he accompanied Champ on the 20th of July to serve the same, and requested him, from the personal knowledge he had of Myers, to expostulate with him, and endeavour to make an arrangement; that about half-past six in the evening, he (B) and Champ met Myers, when Champ personally served Myers, in his (B.) presence, with the said writ, and that Myers was very abusive and violent towards Champ. That on 29th July, he caused an affidavit of service to be made by Champ, and filed a declaration; that on the same day be accompanied Champ, and saw him serve a true copy of a notice of declaration at Myers' house, on his daughter Clarissa; and on 30th Aug. signed judgment—Champ deposed, that he accompanied Benham to Leman-street, Goodman's-fields, about half-past six in the evening, and served Myers with the copy of the writ; and on 29th July he served a copy of a notice of declaration on a daughter of Myers, at his (Myers') house, who told him that her name was Clarissa.—(A joint affidavit of Benham, Champ, Sarah Benham, and Asher, was also read, in part, contradicting certain affidavits made on the part of Myers.)

ABRAHAM MYERS . I am a watch manufacturer and jeweller, and live at No. 79, Leman-street, Goodman's-fields—the prisoner Benham is my wife's son—I have been married to her fourteen years. I had some dealings with the prisoner in the course of that time, the result of which was that he owed me money—on the 21st of June, 1842, I was not at home—I was at Clerkenwell

—I left my house at eleven o'clock, as near as can be—I returned home at nine o'clock in the evening, or a little after—I did not on that day receive the sum of 382l. 10s. from anybody, or any part of that sum—I made no agreement with Benham or anybody to return any furniture for any sum of money—I never made any such agreement, or ever received any such sum of money—on Wednesday, the 20th of July, I left home, near upon eight o'clock—I went to Greenwich, and to the house of George Harley, an acquaintance of mine there—I slept at Harley's that night—I was not in Leman-street, Whitechapel, or near my house, daring the whole of that day, after I had left in the morning—I did not receive the copy of any writ that day—I have never received the copy of any writ in any action in which Benham was the plaintiff—I never had any copy of any declaration served on me, nor any paper, nor any writ, or anything else—I first knew that proceedings were taken against me by Benham on the 1st of Sept. last—I then learnt it from Munyard—he called at my house, and said, "Mr. Myers, I have got bad news for you"—I asked what it was—he said, "Benham, Champ, and others, have been buffing against you for 400l."—I did not know the meaning of buffing, and asked him what it meant—he said it was false swearing—he said, "They have sworn false service of the writ and declaration, and got judgment against you"—I said, "How is that possible, he owes me a great deal of money?"—he said, "I know it, I know that every thing is false, and I know that Mr. Benham owes you a great deal of money; if you go to prison you can't get bail for six or seven weeks to come, there is no bail to be taken now, and if you defend the cause it will cost you 300l. or 400l.; I should recommend you if you can to give me 100l., and I will settle the business for you, Mr. Benham will do what I will tell him"—he told me he could recommend me an attorney of the name of Williams, if I had not got an attorney—I declined the recommendation—in consequence of what then took place I communicated with Mr. Sidney, my attorney, who told me the result of inquiries which he made—an execution was afterwards put into my house—I do not recollect the day exactly, it was some days after Munyard came to me—he came to my house on Friday, and I think the execution was on the Friday after—my goods were seized—it was after the execution that I applied to a Judge for relief—it was on that occasion that the affidavits which have been put in were sworn.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did you swear an affidavit about the summons? A. I did—I knew Munyard before this transaction by name, but not otherwise—everybody in Greenwich knows Munyard pretty well—I have very seldom spoken to him—perhaps I might have rode on the same van with him, not often—I cannot say how many times—I do not know whether he is the owner of a van that runs from Greenwich to Woolwich—I have not seen him driving it—his son drives sometimes—I do not know what his business is—I have lived both at Greenwich and Woolwich—I think he lived in Trafalgar-road, Greenwich—I do not know what business he carried on there—I have heard persons say that he was always at this court, swearing, or anything of that kind—I believe he has got a van, and his son drives it—I have lived six or seven years at Greenwich—I do not know where he lived at Woolwich—on the 20th of July I went to Greenwich, near upon eight o'clock, after breakfast, by the Blackwall railway—I went round to several places, and went to Mr. Harley's, near about eleven o'clock—I stopped there till about a quarter to one—I got to Greenwich about nine o'clock—I had a few watches and some jewellery with me, in a parcel, in a carpet bag, and a masonic badge—I cannot say how many watches—I had some for sale, some for samples, and some which I had repaired, and had to

deliver—I think this was on a Wednesday—I have not for a long time made a practice of going to Romford every Wednesday—I do not generally go to Romford on Wednesday, sometimes I went—I have not been to Romford for a long while—I did not go there on business—Mr. Ward, a gentleman there, collects rents for me.

Q. Can you tell me the names of the parties you called on before you saw Mr. Harley? A. Yes I can, some of them—Mr. Graham, foreman to Mr. Crawley, Mr. Liley, Lieut. Allen in the College, and several other parties—I first saw Mr. Harley at eleven o'clock at his house and the brewhouse, which is close by—I was not there for two hours, nor an hour and half—I then went to Mr. Penn's factory—I was there till near two o'clock—I then went to Mr. Crawley's, at the White Swan, at Deptford—our chapter is held there—that was not the place where I was going to preside—our lodge is held at the Lighted Clock, at Deptford—I stayed at Crawley's till near upon half-past three o'clock—I then went round to different places in Deptford, to a shoemaker, named Allen, and other places—I was near Mr. Harley's at half-past five o'clock, and went there again—I cannot say exactly to five minutes or quarter of an hour—he lives near the College—I do business with him sometimes, and on this occasion he paid me some balance of account due to me—I did not go exactly on that subject—I always call on Mr. Harley when I go to Greenwich—I am sure he paid me the balance of an account on Wednesday, the 20th of July—I could bring my book and show you—I have not got it with me—I book every day where I go, and what money I spend—I have got that book at home—it is written in Hebrew—I cannot write English exactly—I cannot write German—I speak it very little—my daughter makes out my bills for me, and I sign my name—I can sign my name very well—I stopped at Greenwich all night, and came to town a little after two o'clock next day—I stopped at Mr. Harley's from the time I went in, about half-past five, and did not go out all the evening—I had tea—Mr. Harley's daughter made it for me—he has got three or four daughters—I came when tea was nearly over, and I had tea by myself—it was not quite over—I cannot exactly recollect whether they had risen from the table—I cannot tell how many young ladies were there when I went in—I did not go into the room where they were sitting—they have a separate room where they have their meals—I had tea in the kitchen, where they generally take their meals—when I went into the kitchen some of them were there, and some, were gone—I cannot recollect how many were there—I cannot recollect whether Mr. Harley was there—whether he was gone to the brewhouse or not, I cannot tell exactly—his daughter was there, and his sister was there—I cannot tell exactly—some of his daughters were there, not the whole of them—I cannot say how many daughters were there at tea time, but I saw three daughters, a niece, and his sister that night—they were all in the house that night—there was one, two, or three daughters in the room when I went in—I had tea by myself—the tea things had not been cleared away—I cannot tell whether they made fresh tea for me—they might have some tea left—I did not notice whether they made fresh tea or the same tea—I cannot re-collect who was in the room when I had tea—some of the family were there—Mr. Harley was not there—he came directly after perhaps—directly he has done his tea he goes to his brewery—I saw him shortly after—I do not recollect that he was there—I did not pour out my tea myself—some of the ladies made tea for me—I cannot tell which—I did not leave the house afterwards—it was a very wet night—I passed the time very comfortably—I smoked a cigar—I breakfasted there next morning with all the family—I left the house between nine and ten o'clock, and went about my business where I had to call

to different places and shops—I cannot say where—I left Greenwich a little after twelve o'clock by the omnibus—I then called on some customers which I have at London-bridge—I did not get home till after two o'clock—I did not often sleep at Mr. Harley's house—I cannot recollect whether I ever slept there before that night—I might—I sleep several times at different places—I have slept there since—I cannot recollect when I slept there for the first time since—I could if I was to look at my book—I know what time I am out—I would have brought my book if I had thought of it—I did not sleep there last week or the week before—I dare say I have slept there since Christmas—I cannot tell without I look at my book—I always keep a memorandum of where I go every day, and what I do—I go by that, unless I can recollect a day—I know this was the night on which I slept at Greenwich, by it being a very wet night, and I could not come home—that was the reason of my stopping—I did not like to go home—I slept there, having business there next day—the omnibus did not go from near there, and I should have had to go home from London-bridge, which is half an hour's walk—I cannot recollect when I first mentioned about my going to Greenwich on the 20th of July—I cannot tell what business I did next morning at Greenwich, without I looked at my book—I bought four or five tooth brushes for my family—I bought them in Nelson-street—I cannot remember any other business I did—Benham took the benefit of the Insolvent Act shortly before this—I was a creditor of his—I got his goods a long time before he took the benefit of the act—I cannot recollect exactly how long—it is near on three years ago—I cannot exactly recollect how long it was after I seized his furniture that he went to prison, perhaps a few months—I dare say it was two months—I do not know what the amount of his debts were—I do not know how much money be owed—I never asked him what he was in debt, and he never told me—I did not know that he was in debt—I did after he was apprehended of course—I did not know the amount of his debts when he went to prison—I heard afterwards—I dare say his debts amounted to 3,000l. or 4,000l.—I was a creditor of his—I have had no dividend or anything at all, not a halfpenny—he scheduled me for 380l.—I have heard of something being paid to the creditors—I cannot say exactly what—I have heard that his assignees have paid some money—I did not apply to the assignee—there was no money to pay me—he owes me more, and money besides—I cannot recollect exactly how long he was in business—I dare say three years or more—I think it was more—he was in business before he was of age—he was a tailor—he had some houses that were mortgaged to his brother-in-law Asher—Asher is Benham's wife's brother—I took some of Benham's shop goods in execution, not cloths—I cannot recollect what goods they were—there were some waistcoat pieces—some few waistcoat pieces were returned to me, and the furniture and every thing there was—I do not know the house No. 5, Charlotte-place, Woolwich—I have never been there—I am sure I have not been to Munyard's house—I have no business with Munyard—I have not been there—perhaps I might have been fifteen or twenty years ago—I have not been at his house for three or four years—what has passed fifteen years ago I cannot exactly say—I have been twenty-three years in England.

COURT. Q. Did you ever visit Munyard in his house? A. No, I cannot say what has passed years ago—perhaps I might have been in his house fifteen or twenty years ago, but I have not seen the man for five or six years, I can swear.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Is it possible you might have seen him there? A. Years ago, I found out his character was not fit for any respectable tradesman to go there, and I never went there, and I would never go near the place

—perhaps I might have been at his house years ago—I have never been to his house, and taken tea with him within the last five years, nor with his wife either—I do not recollect—I will swear that I have never been to his house, and taken tea there—it is possible I might have been at his house some time ago—I cannot swear that—I might have gone into the house, but what it is now I never would visit such a house as it is—I have had the pleasure of hearing of Mr. Munyard's character before this, and you might have heard of it—I keep my horse and chaise regularly.

Q. What did you do with Benham's furniture? A. Sold it to different people—not by auction, but as I liked, by private contract, to customers of mine—I am not a dealer in furniture—I have not sold it all exactly—I have got a few things left for my daughter, who is going to get married shortly—I cannot tell you any person to whom I sold it—I hare got it in my book—it was my property, and I could do as I liked with it.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Has there been a friendly intercourse between you and Benham since you have been married to his mother? A. I have always been very kind to him, and behaved to him as a father, and I know he would not have taken such an act towards me if it had not been for Munyard—when steps were taken to set the proceedings aside, he sent me all the information he could—he made a full and fair disclosure—papers and every thing was given up—he did every thing he could to forward and assist me—he sent the papers to my solicitor—I know Asher very well—he is a man of a very weak understanding, as weak as could possibly be, and hardly capable of earning his own bread.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. About the time you brought the action against Benham, were you, or not, frequently at Munyard's house? A. I was not, not at all, nor shortly before that time—it is not true that I was ever at his house, or ever had conversation there with Munyard, Mrs. Munyard, or any person, as to making Benham a bankrupt, or causing him to take the benefit of the Insolvent Act, nor about issuing an execution, or bringing an action against him—no such thing ever occurred—I never said that to Munyard, or his wife—I was never there—I never said anything about making young Munyard a creditor of Benham's—I never spoke to him of anything of the kind—Munyard's daughter was not present at any such conversation—I never was in company with any of them, and never had any such conversation at their house—I never had any conversation with Munyard, his son, daughter, or wife, of anything of the kind—I never spoke to any of them on the subject, neither about making Benham a bankrupt, taking the benefit of the act, bringing an action against him, and recovering a debt, or making young Mun-yard a creditor of his—I commenced an action, and Mr. Pyle was my attorney—I had never employed Mr. Pyle before that—Mr. Cunningham recommended me to employ Mr. Pyle.

Q. Was not Mr. Cunningham Benham's attorney? A. He was my attorney too—I do not know whether he was Benham's attorney in that action—Norton was his attorney in the Insolvent Court, and I paid the money for it to Mr. Norton, and have got his receipt—I employed Cunningham, and he recommended Pyle—I do not know whether Cunningham was Benham's attorney—he might have been Benham's attorney in that action, but I know Mr. Norton was the party to whom I paid the money—Cunningham was not Benham's attorney in that action, because I paid Mr. Norton the money.

COURT. Q. Was Cunningham to your knowledge Benham's attorney? A. Really I do not know whether he has been his attorney or not, I have so many attornies myself—I employ five or six.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did you ever go to Mr. Pyle's office? A. Yes, three or four times, not with Cunningham, but by myself—Cunningham has been my attorney—I have got some receipts of his which I could show you—he might have been Benham's attorney—I know nothing of it.

Q. How came Cunningham to recommend you to Mr. Pyle? A. He came to my house, and I paid him money, and of course I asked him to recommend me, and he said, "Mr. Myers, I recommend you to Mr. Pyle," because he could not do it himself, he had not a certificate for it.

GEORGE HARLEY . I am one of the master brewers at the College Brewery at Greenwich—I am not the principal brewer, but I have the superintendence of the brewery—I have been so for six years. I have been in the habit of seeing Mr. Myers three or four days in the week—I saw him on the 20th of July—it was near on eleven o'clock in the morning when I first saw him—I saw him again in the evening, at six o'clock—he did not leave my house after that time that evening—he left between eight and nine next morning, as near as I can recollect—I generally rise at six o'clock in the morning, and come in to breakfast—he left my house about ten o'clock, as near as I can ascertain—he came into the brewery, and bid me good morning—I left him in bed when I got up—he breakfasted with me, and left me, as near as possible, about half-past nine—I consider he left my house at that time—I did not see him afterwards—I am engaged in my brewery the whole day, night and day, Sunday and work-day—my back door goes out of my house into the brewery—I have no occasion to go into the street—I go into the brewery at six o'clock in the morning, and return about eight to my breakfast—at eleven o'clock I return again to lunch—Mr. Myers was not there then—he must have gone before that.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Do you remember, when you were here on a former trial, being asked whether you had sworn in a certain affidavit that you had made before a Judge at chambers, that you saw Myers at eleven o'clock at Greenwich, on the 20th of July, and that he remained in your company for the rest of the day? A. Will you allow me half a moment to give you a reply to that—he came into the brewery, to the best of my recollection, from ten to half-past ten, then he went away, and he bid me good morning—he went then and there—he might not stop with me more than twenty minutes—he had a cigar—I thought you were asking me about the 21st—I have not brought any of my beer with me—may be you would like a drop.

COURT. Q. Are you in a proper condition to give evidence, are you sober? A. Sir, he came to me on the 20th of July, about eleven o'clock, to the best of my recollection.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How long did he stop with you? A. He had lunch with me, and he went away, I suppose, about half-past twelve o'clock—I saw him again about six, or a little after, when I had done cleansing my beer—I did not make any affidavit before a Judge in this cause, nor before a Commissioner—an affidavit was brought down to me—is Mr. Bailey, the Judge's clerk, here?—I do not know what he is—I was given to understand that he was a Judge's clerk—I believe he came out of Kent—I did not make any affidavit—(looking at an affidavit)—this is my signature, but I made an objection to this—I said I would not swear positively, but to the best of my recollection, that Mr. Myers was in my sight during the whole of those hours—I have come from a place of refreshment now, and I have dined—I have had some beer—I am very partial to beer—I have had nothing stronger—I have seven in family, if I count them all—there were four at home on the 20th of July, Elizabeth, Lavinia, Emma, and Louisa, and my sister at times—I cannot

say whether she was there on the 20th or not; no, she was not at home, she was out—she is in the habit of living and sleeping at my house at times—I cannot swear whether she was staying with me on the 20th of July—if I said yes, I might he wrong; and if I said no, I might be the same situated.

Q. There are four of your daughters, are there? A. No, three of my daughters, and my niece, as I suppose—my sister might be there in the day, but night I cannot swear for—she frequently leaves at night, and goes to a friend in High-street, Deptford—I cannot tell what time she was there—I do not keep an account of every day she is there—I cannot say whether she was there on the 20th of July—I did not have tea with Mr. Myers—my daughter made tea for him, as she represents—I did not see him have tea—I came in at five o'clock, and went out about twenty or twenty-five minutes past five—I had been to attend to what it was my duty to do as under brewer—I was in soon after six—it generally takes me about forty minutes to cleanse my beer—I found Myers in the kitchen—there was only me and my daughters at home, two daughters, besides me, and two were out—sometimes they are out for a week—they were not staying at the house then—only two daughters were at home at that time, and a niece—the others were out—there were three altogether at home, two were out—I have only three daughters—I cannot say which were at home—two were out, and my sister, she was out—two daughters and my niece were at home—my sister was out, and one of my daughters, I know that—I am not quite sure, but to the best of my recollection, I cannot say positively—they are so frequently out it is impossible for me to say positively—they take a turn over the same as other people do, a vacation, the same as you gentlemen do—only one of them is here to-day, the eldest, who supplied Mr. Myers with his tea—there was only one called for, I believe—Mr. Myers slept along with me that night, in the same bed, and it was not the first or the last time—that was the first time he slept at my house, but we have slept together in other places—it is out of my power to tell you how many times he has slept with me since, it is so frequently—since we slept together we are so loving that we cannot part—he has slept with me since—I cannot tell how many times, not twenty times—I would not pretend to say how many times—I have known him about eight years—I never slept with him before that night—if I recollect right, it was a very wet night—it thundered and lightened materially, and I said, "Myers, you bad better stop along with me"—if you recollect, you will find it was a tremendous night—we slept together merely for love, or fatigue, I do not know which, just what you please to put it down—I have slept with him several times since, when he has been on business at Woolwich and different places, when he has had to meet some gentlemen of the College with different materials, and he has said, "I shan't go to London to-night"—I have frequently slept with other men—I have travelled a good deal, but not latterly—when Mr. Myers has called at my house, and wished for a night's residence, or any of his family, it has always been found for them—I have four beds in my house—neither of them were unoccupied on the night in question—two of my daughters slept in one bed, another in another bed, and me and Myers in a third bed—there was no fourth bed—there were two beds on one bedstead—there were three bedsteads and four beds, two bedsteads with a bed on each, and one bedstead having two beds on it—if my room was large enough I could have had two bedsteads, but it is not—I have no lodgers—I know a Mrs. Letton—she never lodged with me—she never slept in my house.

Q. You say you objected to swear to this affidavit at first, was it altered in consequence of your objection? A. I expected that Mr. Bailey, according to my wish, would have altered it—he did not—I told him I could not swear

to it, neither would I swear that Mr. Myers was at my house the whole of the time it specified—Mr. Bailey said, "Well, to the best of your recollection and knowledge"—I said, "Will that do?"—he said, "Yes," (is he in Court? he can't deny it,) and on that condition, never seeing one before, I signed it—he said that was the way most people swore—it was a thing I never had in my handbefore, and I was never before a Magistrate before—(the witness's affidavit being ready stated that he saw Myers between eleven and twelve o'clock on the 20th, and that he remained in his company the remainder of that day)—that was the part I objected to.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you or not, when you signed it, understand that the alteration had been made that you required? A. I expected it would be made by Mr. Bailey—I understood when I swore to it that the alteration would be made, or else I would have struck it out altogether myself.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did you give the same explanation on the former trial? A. I had not the opportunity, for you put me down by saying that me and Mr. Myers committed an unnatural crime, and it cut my feelings, so I did not do it.

ELIZABETH HARLEY . I am the daughter of the last witness, and live with him. I know Mr. Myers very well—I saw him on the 20th of July, first about half-past eleven o'clock in the day, and again at six in the evening—I got tea for him—I remained at home that evening—it was a very wet night, not fit for any one to go out—Mr. Myers did not go out again after I got tea for him—he left next morning, I think, about half-past nine—I saw him go.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How many of you were there together? A. My three sisters, my father, and Mr. Myers—I have three sisters besides myself—I am the eldest—there are four daughters—I am quite certain of that—I cannot be mistaken, and we were all four at home that night—I am quite certain of that—we all four slept there that night—there can be no mistake about that—none of us went out that evening—nor did any one—no part of the family was out, only my father at the brewhouse—no person that ordinarily forms part of the family was out—there was no daughter out—that I am quite certain of—my aunt was at home, that made five of us—we all five slept there that night—I am quite certain of that—if my aunt and one of my sisters had gone out I should have known it—my father has nieces, but they are very seldom at our house—there was no niece there that night, nor had there been for a considerable time before—that I am positive of—no niece was in the habit of living there.

COURT. Q. Describe in what rooms you severally slept? A. As we always do—my aunt and I slept together in one bed, and the other bed, which is a very large one, my sisters slept in, in the next room, all three in one bed—we all slept in that way that night, and we always do—I am quite positive of that—I know this happened on the 20th of July, from its being a very wet day, and there was no one there that day but Mr. Myers, and my father was going to the lodge with him—I-cannot tell how long after this happened my attention was called to the day—I know it was on the 20th of July, because it was a very wet day, and Mr. Myers came to go to the lodge with my father.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How soon afterwards did you hear from your father that it was a matter of importance where Mr. Myers had been during that day? A. That I cannot say—I do not know that I heard of it as a matter of importance from my father—my father told me he had been making an affidavit as to where Mr. Myers was on that day—when Mr. Bailey came

down to our house I then knew that it was a matter of importance—I am quite sure that all I have now said is correct.

COURT. Q. What are the names of your three sisters? A. Lavinia, Emma, and Louisa—I have many cousins—I have no cousin that usually forms part of the family—we very seldom speak to a cousin, or see a cousin—neither of my sisters is called a niece.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. If your father has said he has but three daughters, that a niece was there, and your aunt went out that night, what should you say? A. I do not think my father could say so, because I know no one went out of the house that night—it is not true that my aunt was out of the house that night, nor my sister—I came here with my father, not with any lady—I saw Miss Benjamin here when I came.

RICHARD RIDDLE . I am superannuated from Her Majesty's service, and live at Deptford, near the Dock-yard. I have known Myers ten or twelve years—I saw him on the 20th of July at Mr. Crawley's, at the White Swan, at the corner of Loving Edward's-lane, in High-street, between two and three o'clock in the day—I bad some conversation with him—I left him at the White Swan about half-past two.

ANN BENJAMIN re-examined. I am Mr. Myers's daughter-in-law, and live with him and my mother, in Leman-street, Whitechapel—I was at home on the 20th of July—I remember that day particularly, it was very fine in the morning, but it turned out very unfavourable, I believe, towards the afternoon—I am sure of it, it was a very unpleasant evening—my father left home about eight o'clock that morning—I was at home the whole day—my father did not come home again that day at all—I did not see him again till between two and three o'clock next day—I am sure he slept from home that night—I was present when Munyard called at my father's house—I first heard that proceedings had been taken against my father on the 1st of Sept.—that was the first time we heard it, and of there being judgment against him.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did your father dine with you next day? A. I cannot exactly say—he almost always dines by himself—I should rather say he dined by himself that day—I think he did—we might have dined about half-past one or two, and sometimes we dine at three—I had had my dinner when he came in—he dined at home—I cannot say what he had for dinner—I should say that I gave him dinner—I might have been in the room when he had his dinner—sometimes I am, and sometimes I do not stop in the room all the time.

CLARISSA MYERS . I am eight years and a half old, and am the daughter of Mr. Myers. I know Benham—I did not receive any paper from him on the 29th of July, nor from Champ—I have never seen him before—I did not open the door to Benham, and take it in—I did not, at any time, receive from Benham, in company with Champ, any paper to give to my father, and I never promised them to deliver any paper to my father.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. I dare say you might have been at the door? A. No—I play about the door sometimes—I do not remember taking any paper in—I am sure I did not—I have not taken in many little papers for my father—a person may have put a paper into my hands for my father—I do not recollect ever taking a paper to deliver to my father—I never had a paper to deliver to my father—I have bad a letter—I never had a paper wrapped up to give to him—I have had a large letter, not a bill.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. What makes you speak about the 29th of July, do you know what day it was? A. No—I can read English—I cannot read writing—I may have taken letters, taken them in doors, and

thought no more about it—I have very often seen Benham at my father's house—whether at any time he came with another man, I cannot tell—no notes or other things have been delivered to me.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Have you known Benham as long as you can remember? A. Yes—I do not remember the month of July at all—I did not receive any paper from Benham during the last year—I never saw Champ before—I never received any open paper with another paper hanging to it from anybody to give to my father—the letters I have given to my father have been sealed.

ELIZABETH MYERS . I am the prosecutor's wife, and the mother of the last witness and Benham—I was at home on the 20th of July—my husband went out before eight o'clock that morning, as near as I can remember—he did not return that day—he returned on the following day, between two and three o'clock—he always sleeps in my room—he slept out that night—I saw nothing of him till he returned between two and three on the 21st—on the 1st of Sept. I saw Munyard, and then for the first time heard what had transpired, that there was a judgment, and so on—I have seen Benham since then, and he told me he should not have done anything of the kind against his father-in-law, had he not been persuaded by Munyard and Champ.

COURT. Q. Had you said anything to him beforehand to encourage him to make a communication for his own benefit? A. No—he came on Saturday night—I opened the door to him, and said, "Mark, leave the door, I am afraid of your uncle," meaning his father-in-law—he said he would not, that he was sorry for what had taken place, it was not his fault, it was through the persuasion of Munyard and Champ he bad done it—I have since then as well as before, done every thing I could for him.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Have you any reason for recollecting the 20th of July in particular? A. Nothing very particular—Mr. Myers was going to his lodge, I believe, and the lodge is held that day—I am positive of that, because I have the letters come to the house—my little girl very seldom takes in letters and papers—she may do so, but she generally calls me or my daughter—I have done every thing I could for my son, more than Mr. Myers is aware of.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Were you at home when your husband came home on the 21st? A. Yes—I got him his dinner—I always do so—I cannot remember what he had for dinner—I rather think he did not dine with me—I am not positive whether he did or not—I have been to Mun-yard's house—I cannot say the date—I went there because he wished me—he called the day before, and said he could tell me something of very great importance if I would go down—I had occasion to go to Wellington-street, and I called to know what it was—I knew Mrs. Munyard by sight, she lived in the same neighbourhood—I never spoke to her to my knowledge before once when she came to my house to tell my son to call on her husband, but I had no communication with her—I knew nothing of Champ before—I saw him once seven or eight years ago, and never before or since—I never went to Mun-yard's house and asked Mrs. Munyard to promise Champ a sum of money—Mr. Munyard asked me to give two sovereign's to send Champ away—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Munyard then—I did not ask Munyard to give 2l. to Champ to ask him to keep out of the way, and not to make an affidavit—I did not promise to pay him again if he would do so—I did not say so before Mrs. Munyard—there was another person there, she might have been a daughter—I did not say that it was a very dishonest thing of my husband not to give up the property he got from Benham—how could I say so when ray son is greatly

indebted to Mr. Myers—I never said that my husband ought to give up the property he had from Benham, for that Benham did not owe him anything.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Tell us exactly what took place about the 2l. A. Munyard said that if I would give him 2l., he would give it to Champ to get him away, and he should make no further affidavit—I cannot tell when this was—I never on that or any occasion offered any sum of money to Munyard for any purpose whatever, nor to Mrs. Munyard, or any person.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. When did you mention that Munyard made this proposal to you? A. When I came home—my husband was not at home then, but when he came home I mentioned it to him—Mr. Sidney is my attorney—I do not know that he is described in the affidavits as Mr. Isaacs—I now know that his father's name is Isaacs, but I did not know it previously—I might have told Mr. Daniel's, Mr. Sidney's clerk, that Munyard had told me that if I would give him 2l. he would keep Champ out of the way—I would not swear that I told him so, I dare say I did, I have no doubt of it.

FREDERICK WHITE SAUNDERS (City police-constable, No. 669.) I took Champ into custody on the 2nd of Nov.—while conveying him to the station he said, that if he was to suffer, he hoped others would as well as himself—that Benham was at that time at the White Hart, in Bishopsgate-street—that if he was found guilty, he trusted the Court would send him beyond the seas, that his prospects had been or would be damned (I will not take upon myself to say which) in this country—this was when he was charged with perjury—I did not say what I apprehended him for.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. What did you apprehend him for? A. On a Judge's warrant for perjury and conspiracy—he did not say that he was innocent, nor "I did serve the party"—he did not say that he was innocent, but that he might be found guilty, that his prospects would be damned, and he wished he might be transported—he never made that statement—he did not say that he had served the declaration—I did not tell him that he was accused of swearing that he had not served the declaration—I did not know what it was—he did not say that he had said nothing but the truth—I will swear he did not say so—he said nothing about Benham or his action—I did not know the nature of the charge.

(Champ received a good character.)


CHAMP— GUILTY . Aged 42.

Confined Eighteen Months.


OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 1st, 1843.

Third Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-846
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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846. JAMES PARKER was indicted for obtaining money by false pretences to which he pleaded

GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-847
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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847. GEORGE GOODWIN, alias Jones , was indicted for breaking and entering the warehouse of John Dawson, on the 26th of Jan., and stealing therein, 3 looking-glasses and frames, value 1l. 10s., his goods: also for stealing, on the 3rd of Feb., 3 dram-glasses, 2s.; and 2 glass tumblers blers, 2s. 6d.; the goods of Richard Hollyman: also on the 2nd of Feb., 3 pewter pots, 2s., the goods of Charles Gerge Tinney: 4 pewter pots, 2s., the goods of Henry Cosson: 2 pewter pots, 1s. 6d., of John Seeley; and 2 pewter pots, 1s., the goods of Richard Eliom: also on the 3rd of Feb., 1 pewter pot, 2s. 6d., the goods of Ann Price; and that he had been before convicted of felony: to all of which he pleaded

GUILTY .— Transported for Ten Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-848
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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848. JOSEPH LINCOLN was indicted for stealing, on the 30th of Jan., 20 loaves of bread, value 10s.; on the 28th of Jan., 6 loaves of bread, 2s. 6d.; on the 26th of Jan., 5 loaves of bread, 2s. 6d.; on the 25th of Jan., 10 loaves of bread, 5s.; on the 24th of Jan., 5 loaves of bread, 2s. 6d.; and on the 27th of Jan., 10 loaves of bread, 5s.; the goods of David Dunk, his master; to all of which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 17.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-849
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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849. JOHN FRAZIER was indicted for stealing, on the 21st of Feb., 1 coat, value 2s., the goods of James Leaman; to which he pleaded

GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.

Before Lord Chief Justice Tindal.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-850
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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850. WILLIAM CANNELL was indicted for feloniously assaulting Elizabeth Sarah Magness, on the 12th of Dec., and with a certain pistol loaded with gunpowder, and a certain leaden bullet, feloniously did shoot off and discharge at and against her, and thereby, on the right side of her body, did strike, penetrate, and wound her, with intent feloniously, wilfully, and of his malice aforethought to kill and murder her.—2 other COUNTS stating his intent to be to maim and disable her.—4th COUNTS stating his intent to be to do her some grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.

ELIZABETH SARAH MAGNESS . I am forty years of age, and am the wife of Thomas Magness. I fill the situation of upper bar-maid at the Auction Mart hotel—I was there for eleven months before this happened—it is an hotel behind the Auction-mart in Bartholomew-lane, and communicates with it—the lower part of the hotel is called the tap, and that part is under my management—Mr. Baker is the keeper of the hotel—the prisoner was potman at the tap—he had been there five months—I noticed that his behaviour was very cross on the Sunday previous to the 12th of Dec.—he has attempted to kiss me, and I rebuked him for it—I have heard that he is twenty-one years old—he went by the name of John in the establishment—the housemaid is called Ann—on the evening of the 12th of Dec she complained, in his presence, that she and John had been locked in the cellar—I took no notice of it—it was afterwards mentioned to me that John and her had been in the bed-room together—in consequence of that, about a quarter to nine o'clock, when the prisoner came into the tap, I told him he had better be minding his work than playing—he said he had not been playing—I said it was false, he had—I said he had better be clearing his tables, that I had been clearing them all day, and he had better be clearing them himself—that was part of his duty—I told him he was in the cellar just now, referring to what I have mentioned—he said it was not his fault—he did not say he locked the door—somebody locked him in I believe—when I scolded him, he seemed very surly and sullen—he cleared the tables, and after that he sat down on one of the tables—there were customers there, and he waited on them—the sulky or sullen appearance continued—I had occasion to go past where he was sitting, and he said something to me—I did not hear what it was—I felt offended—I thought he was jeering me, and I called him a forward vagabond—later in the evening, he came to the bar for some porter, which he took out to a customer—when I spoke to him I scolded him about his work, and he said, "Go to heaven with

you"—he was not long gone with the beer—I saw him come back—nothing more passed after that till Ann called him—she said, "Mrs. Baker wants you"—it was about a quarter or half-past nine o'clock—he left the tap in consequence of that and remained away till about eleven o'clock, which is the time we usually begin to prepare to shut up—it was his duty to shut up the shutters—I desired him to be called for that purpose—Sarah, another servant, called him—I did not hear him answer—he did not come—I rang for him—I did not hear him make any answer to the bell, and at half-past eleven, as he did not come, I proceeded to shut up the shutters myself—I did not fasten the door, as there was still some customers in the house—I came in again and attended to them—I returned to the bar—the customers did not stop long—they only came to the bar and had what they wanted—there are two gates outside the house—I proceeded to lock them at about a quarter to twelve—there are steps and a sort of iron railing—the whole is below the level of the street, down in a sort of area—I was fastening the right hand gate first, inside, intending to come back—I had gone up the steps to get to it—a young man, a customer, who had been in the house, seeing me come up the steps, came and asked what I was doing—I could not find the right key, and he helped me—I had never fastened the gate before—he was not on the outside—he had been having something to drink—he did not go outside—another door is left open till twelve, and when he did go he went out that way—while I was fastening the right hand gate, at the top of the steps, the prisoner came half-way up the steps, as if to help me fasten the gate—I told him I did not want him—I said I had done the rest part of the work and I could do that—he said, "Go to hell with you," went down the steps, and stopped at the bottom—after I had closed the gate I came down, and the customer who had helped me came down with me—we passed the prisoner, standing at the bottom of the steps, and went into the tap, leaving him there—I served the customer with liquor—while he was drinking it I observed the prisoner come in—he said nothing—he passed through the tap and went in a direction that would take him to his bed-room, which is on the same floor as the tap, right facing it, at the left hand side of the building, about the middle of it—there is a door going out of the tap—the bed-room is not behind the bar—as you stand at the bar you can see his bed-room—it is on the other side of the building, a very little distance from the bar, just across the passage—there is the mart door about the middle of the passage, at the back of his bed-room—it was not my duty to fasten that door, it was his duty, but I went to do it—I took the key with me and a light in my hand—when I got into the passage, to fasten that door, I observed the prisoner towards the right, sitting on a pair of steps which were there—I went down the passage, in a direction from where he was sitting, leaving him behind me—as I went along I heard something behind me, and felt both his hands behind me, one on each shoulder—he did not say anything—I pushed him from me, and said, "Be quiet, sir, or I will call Mrs. Baker"—I proceeded to put the key in the door to fasten it—I was quite separated from him at that time—I heard something click, and just as I was in the act of turning the key I felt myself shot—I heard a report, as of the discharge of fire-arms—I heard the click as I was putting the key in the door—it was followed by the report instantly—I fell—I did not lose my senses at first, I fell on the ground immediately, it knocked me down—my falling with the candle in my hand put it out, and the place was in darkness—before I lost my senses I heard him say, "Woman, what have I done?"—after I laid there two or three minutes I got up—it was after I became insensible, immediately after he said, "Woman, what have I done?" and he fell down near me—I had said nothing thing myself before he used that phrase, nor at any time before I lost my senses—before I became insensible, I felt something trickling in my hand—it

was afterwards found that it was blood—upon that I became insensible for a minute or two, and then I got up—I do not recollect rising, but I found myself on my feet again—I left the prisoner on the ground, I think—I went to the tap—I believe I tried to open the door to get into the street, but could not—I forgot I had locked it—when I turned round from the door I met the prisoner—there was a gas-light there, which reflects inside, and gave me an opportunity of seeing his person—I put my hand to my side, and said, "What have you done?"—he stood firmly fixed before me, with his right arm up, with a knife in it—he said, "Now I'll finish you"—there was blood on the knife—I put my hands together, and said, "For God's sake spare me," and rushed past him, screaming "Murder"—when I left that spot I was again in darkness—I did not fall during my progress—I scrambled along the wall, and eventually succeeded in getting up to my bed-room, which is along the passage and across the yard, in the upper part of the same building—the prisoner followed me—as I was going along he said, "For God's sake stop, and I will not hurt you"—I think those were the exact words, or "Come to me, and I will not hurt you"—he said it more than once—that was while I was going along the passage—it was all dark there—I got into my bed-room—he came up after me—I hid myself by the side of the bed, and heard him say, "Where is she?"—the room was in darkness—he was in the bed-room at that time—soon after that the house was alarmed, a medical man was sent for, the police came in, and the prisoner was taken.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you not represent yourself at the time you took the situation at the Auction-mart as a widow? A. Yes—from anything that I can tell the prisoner did not know that I was otherwise—he did not appear to be very partial to me in particular, not more than he was to the rest—he did kiss me once, and then I pushed him from me, and said, "Be quiet"—he has attempted it several times, and he has others the same—he never succeeded but once, and then I scolded him for it—I do not know how long before this 12th of Dec. it was that he first attempted to kiss me—not long before this occurrence—I think one night when Mr. Baker went out to dinner—it was my brother, Mr. Moton's birthday, I and one of the other females sat up for him—that was the time he succeeded in kissing me—he had not his arm round my waist on that occasion—I swear that—he put his arm or elbow on my shoulder—my back was to him, and I instantly pushed it off—Sarah was with me—she was at the side of the fire-place—she was sitting on a chair—I believe her eyes were shut—I do not think she was asleep—I am sure she was not—I never had a picture a likeness of myself—a young person I know, named Jones, had—she was not in the house—she called there—I believe she asked the prisoner if he would fetch the likeness for her—it was being repaired—I did not hear her ask him—I do not know that any body asked me for that picture unless it was her—she asked me for it—I said I had not got it, John had got it.

COURT. Q. How long was this before the 12th of Dec? A. I cannot tell—about three weeks before.

MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you give him some money to buy a scarf which he wore round his neck? A. Never in my life—I never heard of such a thing—he wore a scarf round his neck—I swear I did not give him the money to buy it—he did not make me a present of a pair of boots—he bought a pair for me, but he had the money for them—I gave it him—Henry was to have fetched them—there was a conversation in the house about something having happened with the prisoner in my bed-room—I never spoke to the prisoner privately about the reports—I was in a passion when I spoke to him—the 12th of Dec. was on a Monday, and about a month or five weeks before that, when I heard of this, I made a complaint to the prisoner—I did not cry—I went up

stairs to put my dress on on Thursday morning, and Sarah told me what Mary should say—I said I would not put up with that—I came down stairs, stopped in the bar a few minutes, spoke to Sarah on the subject, and told her it was a scandalous shame—I went out of the bar, and was running across the lobby, and saw the prisoner there—I was going to open the parlour door to speak to somebody in the parlour about it, and he would not allow me—I said, "How dare you, sir, say I opened the door and let you out of the bed-room?"—he said he did not say any such thing—I said, "I will not have my character taken away by such apoor beggarly wretch as you"—he was going to say something to me, and I said, "Don't talk to me, you beggarly wretch, don't," and I left the place—I made no complaint to Mr. or Mrs. Baker about this during all the time between this and the 12th of Dec.—I spoke to him again about it at night in the presence of Sarah—I do not recollect that he said the best thing I could do was to tell Mrs. Baker, and she would discharge him—he might have said so—I never told him I would not tell Mrs. Baker—I did not have another conversation with him on the same subject a few days before the 12th of Dec.—I never spoke to him after that Thursday night—I do not think he has made attempts to kiss me after that—I swear I have not allowed him to kiss me frequently since that time—he never told me that what with my fretting, and the others talking about this it would drive him out of his mind—he did not stab himself in the breast in my presence with a knife—I swear I never had any conversation of this kind with him after the one on Thursday, the month before—I never had any private conversation with him at all—I had no conversation with him on the night this happened—I did not tell him then that I had disgraced myself through him, and that my brother would hear of it—I never told him any such thing—when I was in the passage, previous to being shot, he did not put his left arm across my neck—he only put his two hands on my shoulder—I believe he kissed me then, and that made me push him away—I felt his face or his head at the side of my face, and I pushed him from me, and said, "Be quiet, sir"—he did not kiss me, and say he had come to take leave of me for ever—he never opened his lips—he did not kiss me—he put his face by the side of mine, and I pushed him from me on the instant—it was not at that moment that the pistol went off—he put one hand on each of my shoulders in this manner—I do not know where the pistol was at that time—I did not feel it against me at all—he did not turn my head round at all, and put his lips to my face—I never saw his face—he did not put his head over my shoulder, and put his lips to my face—he put the side of his face or head against the side of mine, and I pushed him from me—when he said, "Now I'll finish you," he was standing directly opposite to me—when I turned round from the street door that I was trying to get out at, he came after me—he was before me at the entrance to the tap—he was in the tap, and I was in the tap.

Q. What was there to prevent his carrying his threat into execution if he ever meant it? A. I put my hands together, and rushed past him, as he was just coming to plunge the knife into me—I will swear he said, "Now I will finish you," not "Now I will finish it"—that was after I was shot, but I had my senses—there was nobody else there at that time—he never said to me that he wished he was in heaven, and I was there with him—when I got up stairs I found my clothes on fire from the pistol—I am confident the prisoner did not help me up off the ground when he said, "O woman! what have I done?"—I laid there a few minutes—as soon as I was up I left him laying there—I hardly remember rising, but I know I got up by myself—I said, "I am on fire, put it out," when I was up stairs—he was not near me then—he was down stairs—he was not in the room then—he might be coming up the stairs—I knew afterwards that the blood trickling on my hand came

from his throat—it was not blood from myself—I suppose it most have been from his throat—I know Mary Jones—she has been living in the service of Mrs. Baker twice—she came the second time five or six weeks after I did—she slept with me—she was living there at the time this happened—it was on the Thursday after the Monday that he got in at the window that I first heard of his being in the bed-room with me—that was about a month or five weeks before the 12th of Dec.—I did not say anything about what had been said to Mr. or Mrs. Baker, because Mary, the kitchen-maid, begged and prayed of me not—she is the person who slept with me—I do not think they call it a recess that is in the room—it is an awkward made room—the other bedstead stands exactly opposite ours—you might reach one from the other—I was awoke in the night, by Mary Jones saying the window was open—she did not say there was somebody in the bed—I did not say it was all nonsense—she never said there was anybody in the bed till the Thursday after the transaction—I got out of bed—after that Mary Jones got out, and got a light, as I could not find the lucifers, never having occasion for them myself—I was sitting in the bed when she said there was somebody under the bed—she begged of me not to say anything about bis being found there—she said Mrs. Baker would think he came in to rob the house if I said anything about it—she said, "For God's sake don't say anything about it, Mrs. Baker is such a very suspicious woman"—I did not say to her,"Don't say anything about it"—I never in my life gave her anything to drink not to say anything about it—I never thought of such a thing—when I complained to the prisoner of his having been locked in the coal-cellar with Ann, he said it was no fault of his, he did not lock the door—that was when I was in the tap, scolding him—after that I was friendly with him with respect to the business—I spoke to him concerning the business, but nothing further, no further than I could help—I did not speak to him for two days after the Monday, not the next day, and very little the day after he was found in the bed-room—on the third day, after I heard what I did, I called him a beggarly wretch—he begged my pardon, and said he would never do it again—Sarah was in the tap-room when I scolded him on Thursday night, and I said it was a planned thing between Mary and him—I should think Mary is as old as myself—I scolded him several times for being so much in the kitchen, and neglecting his tap-room—I have not seen him take any liberty with Mary—I was never in the kitchen—my husband was in the habit of coming there while I was there—nobody knew he was my husband—I think the prisoner spoke to me one day about the man that used to come to see me two or three times a week—he said one day, "Do you know the person that is there?"—I said, "Yes, I know him"—he said, "I dreamed last night that he stabbed me"—I did not tell him that he was my husband—he knew I knew him by speaking to him—this was more than a week before the 12th of Dec.—it must be more than two or three months, I should think—I cannot recollect, I am sure.

MR. BODKIN. Q. What was your motive in representing yourself as a widow when you applied about the situation? A. Mr. Baker wanted a bar-maid—I went after the situation for my daughter, who is turned eighteen—I saw Mrs. Baker—she asked who it was wanted the situation—I said my daughter—she said she was too young, she would rather have such a person as myself—I said I should be very happy to serve her, as I intended going out when my daughter went out—as I came out she said, "I suppose you are a widow? "—I said, "Yes," as I thought my having a husband would be objected to—my husband is very much afflicted, and I thought it would do him good my going out—there was a picture in the possession of somebody I

knew—it was not Jones who was in the establishment, a different person altogether—on one occasion she had asked the prisoner to fetch the picture—I had nothing to do with his having it—I did not ask him for it—I knew he had got it, because I saw it—I knew he went for it from the shop—it had a new glass put into it—she thought I had got it, and came to me for it—the prisoner and Henry were allowed to go out on errands for me—I never went out but once in three months—I asked Henry several times to get me a pair of boots, and he did not—the prisoner was going out for oil one Saturday night, and he said he would bring them in, and he did—the room I slept in is up one flight of stairs—Sarah and Ann sleep in the other bed—Ann has left—Sarah is here—on my oath I did not know of the prisoner's being in the room—I was no party to his being there, and had no reason to expect him there—Mary Jones was in the bed, and the other two in their bed—when I was locking the door on the night of the 12th, the prisoner put his hands flat on my shoulder—I am sure at that time he had no such weapon as a pistol in either hand—at the moment I pushed him from me I went to put the key into the door, and when I had put it in, I heard the click, while I, was putting it in, and as I was turning the key he shot me—the moment he said, "Now I'll finish you," I rushed past him, and screamed "Murder!"

SELINA CUSHWAY . I was called Sarah at the Auction-mart tap—I had been there about nine months, as under barmaid under Mrs. Magness—I remember the night of the 12th of Dec.—Mr. and Mrs. Baker and the family were gone to the theatre—about twelve o'clock I was with Mrs. Magness in the bar—about eleven o'clock she told me to call the potman Cannell, to shut up the shutters—we used to shut up the shutters about that time—I went and called Cannell—I found him in his bed-room—he said he was coming—he did not come—Mrs. Magness went out after that to put the shutters up herself—she went to fasten the outer iron gate—the prisoner went out after her—I remember after that her going to secure the mart door in the passage—she took a candle with her—I saw the prisoner follow her, and soon afterwards I heard Mrs. Magness say, "Be quiet, leave me alone"—it was in a middling tone, between a good-natured and an angry tone—it appeared in an angry tone then—in about a minute or two I heard the report of a pistol, and heard Cannell say, "O woman! what have I done?"—I got out of the window, and ran for the police, and a doctor—I was very much alarmed—a policeman got in.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you heard, about ten o'clock that evening, anything said by Mrs. Magness to the prisoner about Ann, the housemaid? A. Yes, she scolded him—he said Ann had no business in his room, and it was not his fault—I afterwards saw him in the scullery—I said, "Why did you try Mrs. Magness when she was in anger?"—I meant tried her temper—I was afraid Mrs. Magness would be angry, and tell Mrs. Baker, and then she would be angry with him—he said, "I wish I was in heaven, and Mrs. Magness was with me"—I do not know that Mrs. Magness is of rather captivating manners—I had seen the prisoner kiss her about three or four times—the last time might have been about three or four weeks before the 12th of Dec.—I remember the rumour about the matter in the bed-room—it was about a fortnight before the 12th of Dec.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you any means of fixing accurately the time, whether it was a fortnight or more? A. No, I have not—I have seen the prisoner actually kiss Mrs. Magness three or four times—she always told him to be quiet—he once attempted to kiss me—I never saw him try to kiss Jones—my bed was close to Mrs. Magness's—Mrs. Baker is not now ill in bed—she is not confined to her bed.

COURT. Q. Are you living there now? A. Yes, I saw Mrs. Baker up this morning—she is a very old woman.

WILLIAM BAKER . I keep the Auction-mart hotel—my wife might be able to come here as a witness if it was particularly desired, but I can bring a certificate from my doctor—she is very unwell, very nervous and in very infirm health.

Cross-examined. Q. How long was the prisoner in your service? A. Five or six months—he was with me for a fortnight before, and came back to me—he was the best servant I ever had in the house.

JAMES SMITH . I am waiter at the tap of the Auction-mart coffee-house—I go by the name of Henry there—I remember the talk in the house some time ago about the prisoner being in the women's bed-room—the prisoner gave me an account of it a few days afterwards—he told me he went up to the window out of a joke to see them get into bed, and that after they were in bed, he lifted the window and got into the room, that he fell asleep by the side of the bed, and might have slept two or three hours—when be awoke he endeavoured to leave the room, but the door was fastened—in endeavouring to open it the noise awoke Mrs. Magness and the kitchen-maid—they got out of bed to see if there was any person in the room—I am not positive whether he said they both got out or only one; at all events, the kitchen-maid got out, lit a candle, and closed the window, when he saw that that was the case, he got under the bed, that the kitchen-maid fancying she heard a noise the second time, got out and found him in that position—he said neither Mrs. Magness or any one else was aware he was in the room till the noise awoke them.

Cross-examined. Q. You had spoken to him about it, I suppose? A. I had—we were on very friendly terms—we never quarrelled the whole time he was in the housr—he did not appear more partial to Mrs. Magness than servants should be—I was more in the bar than any other room, by Mrs. Baker's desire.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you observe any improper familiarity on Mrs. Magness's part? A. Not the slightest, to any of the servants.

MR. PAYNE. Q. You did not sleep there, did you? A. No, I sometimes sat up for Mr. Baker when he was out, and sometimes slept there—my time of leaving depended on the time the customers went.

HENRY CHAPMAN (City police-constable, No. 648.) On the 12th of December about midnight, I was on duty near the Auction-mart tavern—I heard the report of a pistol or fire-arms, and in about two minutes I heard a female crying, "Help, help"—I went near and found Cushway standing opposite the door of the Auction-mart tavern—in consequence of what she said, I got into the house at last by the door being opened by Mrs. Baker—I went through the further end of the coffee-room—I called out for the prisoner—I ultimately found him on the top of the stairs, and took him into custody—he said, "Here I am, here I am; what have I done, what have I done? "—I then apprehended him—he said at the bottom of the stairs, "What a coward I must be, to shoot the woman I love, and that has been so kind to me"—I had charged him with shooting at Mrs. Magness, but said nothing to induce a conversation from him—he attempted to tear his heart out—he appeared to be very much excited.

Q. In what way did he attempt to tear his heart out? A. By putting his hand into his waistcoat, and saying, "Could I but tear my heart out," and he pulled his hair violently—when I got him to the foot of the stairs he fell—I then saw he had cut his throat—I said, "You have cut your throat"—he said, "Yes, I have"—I immediately sent for a surgeon—after giving him

into the charge of Edwards, I went to see for Mrs. Magness—the prisoner said she was up stairs—I saw her in the bed-room in the arms of a person who was supporting her—I returned, and found the prisoner in Edwards's custody—after his throat was dressed, I asked him where the pistol was—he was on a form in the coffee-room—he said he had thrown it down in the passage—I went to the passage, where I saw the blood, and found the pistol—a little further on in the passage I found a razor-case, four or five yards from the pistol—I then went to search the bar, which is about four yards from where I found the pistol and razor-case—I found a knife on the bar counter, open, and wet with blood—I returned to the prisoner—he said while in the coffee-room, "Take the razor from my pocket—I have a razor in my pocket"—I saw Edwards take a razor from his right hand pocket, wet with blood—this now produced is it—I produce the pistol, razor-case, and clasp-knife—as we went through Bishopsgate-street to the station, he said, "O that woman! that woman!"—I took him from the station to St. Thomas's Hospital, and remained with him all night—he told me he had bought the pistol in Little Bell-alley for the purpose of shooting cats, and he had shot one about six weeks previous, and during that time the pistol had been loaded in his bed-room—he said be could not account where his senses could have been to have hurt the woman he loved, that she was in the act of locking the door, when he drew out the pistol and shot her, that he immediately cut his own throat, and they both fell to the ground together.

Cross-examined. Q. You sat up with him at the hospital at night? A. Yes, two nights—I had no more conversation with him—he was very restless indeed all the first night—there was no one present except the nurse when he made this statement—she was not near the bed—he said he had dreamed on the Friday night before that he had shot the same woman, and he little thought he should have done so in reality—he said she was very obstinate, and would not let him fasten a gate—I did not write down the conversation—the conversation about buying the pistol in Bell-alley was the first night, and about shooting her and their falling together on the Tuesday—he was not restless all the night, but till about midnight—he made the statements to me during the time he was very restless—he said Betsy seeing herself on fire got up and ran into the bar, and said, "For God's sake put the fire out"—that he got up and ran after her, and she cried out, "Loosen my stays"—that he drew the razor for the purpose, and on that she became frightened and got away from him—he afterwards cried bitterly, and went off to sleep—I was with him from five o'clock in the afternoon till eight in the morning, but not in the day time—I asked him once whether he wished to make any confession, if he did, I would send for the surgeon that it might be taken down—he said he should not say anything about that till he knew the fate of the woman.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. What he said was on Tuesday night, was it not? A. Tuesday night or Wednesday morning—I never used any threat or inducement to him to converse with me—he said it of his own free will—the way he talked induced me to say if he wanted to make a confession I would send for a surgeon—he said he would not say anything about the provocation he had for doing it till he heard the fate of the woman—I am quite certain of that.

JAMES JOHN ADAMS . I am the medical person who attended Mrs. Magness on the night in question—I found her standing, partly leaning against the bed—I caused her to be undressed, and examined the wound—there were two wounds, one at the upper edge of the eighth rib, on the right hand, and the other on the left side, opposite the cartilege of the sixth rib, about two inches below the heart, but that would vary in different individuals—I do not remember to have seen a pistol or gun-shot wound before, but I believe

it to be so—I did not see the ball found in ber stays—I picked it up myself—I have applied it to the pistol—it appears to be a rifle-ball—this ball would have inflicted the wound—it must have passed through her body, from the back to the left side, about two inches below the heart—I believe the lungs to have been perforated—such an injury is very dangerous to life—she continued in imminent danger till the middle of Thursday, the 18th—when she recovered a little I had some account of the transaction from her—I had a conversation with the prisoner about it—I said nothing to induce him to make a confession to me, nor threatened him if he did not—I requested to know if two balls were in the pistol or not—I asked him if he had ever any connexion with Mrs. Magness—he hesitated, and replied, "No"—I requested him to be careful what he said, not to injure her character, as he had endangered her life, and before he answered me any question not to be in a hurry—I cautioned him before he answered any question—he said that he withdrew a step when close to her, and then fired—he gave me no account of what led to this transaction.

Cross-examined. Q. Was that all he said? A. All that I can remember at present—I had heard something said that might affect Mrs. Magness's character, before I went to him at the hospital—not from him, but generally—I did not go for the purpose of asking him whether he intended to confirm these rumours—I was not desirous of doing so—when I went there I asked him if he would answer my question—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You have nearly taken the life of Mrs. Magness, don't ruin her character"—he said he went to kiss her, and she pushed him away, and then he stepped back, and fired—that did not occur to me before—I did not write down my conversation with him at the time—I went to inquire whether there was wadding in with the ball—I had heard something said that might affect the character of Mrs. Magness, and was desirous of knowing-whether he intended to confirm the rumours—I asked him if he would answer my questions—I said, "Relate to me all that happened at the time," meaning at the time he shot her.

(James Goff, landlord of the Cherry Tree, in Kingsland-road; John Bly, Kingsland-road; and Richard Hooper, King-squire, Goswell-road, gave the prisoner a good character.)

GUILTY on the 4th Count. Aged 21.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character.— Transported for Fiftten Years.

Fourth Jury, before Mr. Common Sergeant.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-851
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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851. MARGARET FITZGERALD was indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 1 bag, value 6d.; 2 crowns, 60 half-crowns, 184 shillings, and 82 sixpences; the property of Rice Giles Higgins, her master, in his dwelling-house.

ANN HIGGINS . I am the wife of Rice Giles Higgins, of No. 12, Newcastle-street, in the parish of St. Clement Danes—it is our dwelling-house. On the 11th of Feb. I had a bag containing half-crowns, shillings, and sixpences—I cannot say how many of each—I put the bag into a drawer in my room—I locked it, and took the key in my pocket about ten o'clock in the morning—the money was then safe—my husband asked me for the key at twelve, and soon after I found the bag and money was gone—I immediately went into the kitchen, and asked the prisoner, who was our servant, if she knew anything of it—she said she did not—next morning, Sunday, I got up, and called her as usual, and when she went down stairs I followed her, unknown to her, and watched over the kitchen stairs—I saw her take a light, and go into the yard, then return to the kitchen—I listened for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, till I heard a clink of money in the kitchen where she was—I then went down, and asked her what she was doing, what she

had there—I looked into the sink, and found some papers, which I am certain were what some of the money had been wrapped in—she was at the sink—I looked into the grate, and discovered a black bag, which she had taken out of the kitchen drawer—I had seen her open the drawer, and take something out, which I supposed was the bag—I afterwards found the original bag which the money had been in, in the sink—I had not left the kitchen when I found it—I found 1l. 14s. in that bag, and all the rest was in the black bag in the fire-place—that was my little girl's school bag.

Cross-examined by MR. HAKE. Q. How long had the prisoner been in your service? A. She was with me five or six months—I discharged her, and took her again, being distressed for a servant—a gentleman, his wife, and two children, lodge in our house—I do not know what the gentleman is—his wife is an actress at the Olympic, and has a good income—they have a little girl in the daytime, but no servant who sleeps there—the kitchen is under ground—the money had been in the sitting-room on the first floor.

COURT. Q. Who has access to the rooms? A. The lodgers occasionally go there—the door is frequently open—the ground-floor is a shoemaker's shop—I never knew him come up there—it was possible—the gentleman's family live in the rooms above, and pass the room door to go up.

MR. HAKE. Q. Where were you when your husband asked for the key? A. In the kitchen—I ran up stairs directly—the prisoner was in the kitchen with me—my husband called over the stairs for the key—I did not observe the prisoner at that time—when I returned to the kitchen, I laid hold of her arm, and said, "For God's sake, give me the money"—she said, "I know nothing about it"—I was up stairs from eleven to twelve o'clock, and my husband was in his school-room—I did not see the prisoner at all during that hour—I cannot say whether anybody called between eleven and twelve, as I was up stairs—I went to bed after the prisoner—when we missed the money, I sent for a policeman, who searched the kitchen—I searched the upper part of the house myself—the policeman offered to search further—I did not think it necessary—he searched the prisoner—he merely felt her—I never told him to search for a key—I asked her for her keys—I thought that sufficient—I tool two keys, and returned them to her—I tried if they would fit my drawer—she said neither of them fitted my drawers, and they did not—I did not ask to have the keys of the other lodgers—they have access to the place where the property was found—there is no lock to the kitchen door—the sink was searched, and nothing was found there—the policeman who searched is not here—my husband was not present at the search—he was at his school, at the back of the premises—it is a boys' school—they are from ten to fifteen years of age—they go through the back yard to the school—they would have no means of passing where this money was—I rang the prisoner up on Sunday morning, and she brought the plate into my room—that was not her ordinary custom—she generally kept it down with her—I required her to bring it, on account of a house being robbed—I was in bed—she left the basket in the room—I did not wait to dress myself—I followed her down immediately—it was about ten minutes to seven—it was scarcely light—the kitchen is under ground, and is not very light.

RICE GILES HIGGINS . I called for the key of the drawer about twelve o'clock—I had seen the bag that morning—there was 20l. in it, several crowns, half-crowns, and shillings—I found the bag and money gone.

Cross-examined. Q. You are treasurer of the Olympic? A. Yes.

ALAN PHILLIPS . I am a policeman. I took the prisoner, and found the money in the sink.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-852
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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852. THOMAS CARTER and JAMES GRANT were indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George Curtis, on the 25th of Jan., at St. Leonard, Shoreditch, and stealing therein 2 drawers, value 2s.; 1 opera-glass, 10s.; 1 razor, 2s.; 1 tobacco-box, 6d.; and 1 pack of playing cards, 6d.; his property.

MARTHA CURTIS . I am the wife of George Curtis, of Queen's-place, Hoxton, in the parish of Shoreditch—it is our dwelling-house. On Wednesday, the 25th of Jan., I left home, at one o'clock in the day—I locked the door—the windows were down, and the shutter shut—I left nobody in the house—I was fetched home at eight o'clock in the evening, found the house had been ransacked, but no property gone—the articles stated were moved from their places, and placed on a chest of drawers—the policeman had got into the house.

ANN BRIEN . I am the wife of William Brien, and live in Queen's-place, two doors from the prosecutor's. On the 25th, between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, I was passing the door, and saw a light between the shutters—I stopped a moment, and listened, knowing Mrs. Curtis was out—I saw the prisoner Carter come out at the door—he said, "Good night," turning round to the door, as if bidding somebody inside good night—I ran and alarmed my husband, and then Grant came out—I am sure they are the men—I had seen them before.

Grant. Q. Then you saw me come out after the door was shut? A. No, I did not say Carter shut it—you walked till you came to the court, then turned, and my husband followed you—I saw you come out as I was going for my husband—he followed you till he secured you.

Carter. Q. Did you see my face? A. Yes, I can swear to both of you.

WILLIAM BRIEN . I am the husband of the witness—she called me—I ran out, and looking round saw Grant in the act of closing the door of Curtis's house after him—I followed him to the corner, four or five yards—he joined Carter, and they walked to the corner, then began to run—I followed them, calling "Stop thief"—I did not lose sight of them till they were stopped—Carter was stopped by a postman—I did not lose sight of him till he was stopped—I was within four or five yards of him.

Grant. Q. You must have lost sight of me? A. Yes, but not of Carter; you went round the corner, and was brought back by a policeman—I am sure you are the man who came out of the house.

JOHN SAYER . I heard the cry of "Stop thief," and saw Grant running—I stopped in the shade till he ran into my arms—he said, "Why stop me, it is only a lark?"—I kept him, and saw Carter in the hands of the postman—I took him back to the house, and at the station I found several matches in Carter's pocket, and more matches in Grant's pocket—I immediately returned to where Carter was taken, and there picked up two picklock keys, one of which opens the prosecutor's door—I found a candle laying on the floor—the drawers up stairs were broken open—in the morning I found one skeleton key at the spot.

Grant. Q. Where did you find matches upon me? A. In your pocket, I hardly know which pocket.

Grant's Defence. I was coming towards home and heard a cry of "Stop thief;" I went to the top of the street, and seeing a crowd I ran to the spot; the policeman stopped me; I said, "Why stop me, I have done nothing?" I was never in the street, and do not know where it is.


GRANT— GUILTY . Aged 21.

Transported Ten Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-853
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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853. SAMUEL COOPER was indicted for stealing, on the 5th of Feb., 1 shilling, and 4 pence, the monies of William Perkins, from his person.

(This robbery was represented to have occurred under circumstances of as indelicate nature.)


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-854
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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854. JOHN DWIRE was indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Feb., 6 shovels, value 1l. 5s., the goods of Richard Levitt and another.

RICHARD LEVITT . I am an ironmonger, and live in Broad-street, Ratcliff—I have one partner—between seven and eight o'clock, on the 9th of Feb., I had some shovels at my shop—I missed them on receiving information from Horney—these now produced are them—no other person makes the article, and every article is marked with our name.

THOMAS HORNEY . On the 9th of Feb. I saw the prisoner take six shovels off Mr. Levitt's steps—he had one foot on the steps and one foot off—the shovels were inside—he went on a little further, and up Orchard-street—I said to him, "Jack mind what you are after"—I went and gave Mr. Levitt information.

JAMES WILLIAM WEST . These shovels were found with me—the prisoner left them at my house.

Prisoner. I never left any shovels at his house.

GUILTY . * Aged 30.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-855
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation; Guilty > with recommendation

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855. JOHN NATT and BENJAMIN DODD were indicted for stealing, on the 14th of Feb., 1 truss of hay, value 2s., the goods of Joseph Taplin, the master of Natt.

WALTER TAPLIN . I am the son of Joseph Taplin, a farmer, and Natt was in our employ—in consequence of missing a lot of clover-hay, I tied some up on the 14th of Feb., in a particular mode—I have examined the clover-hay now produced, and it is my father's—I can swear to it from some wooden marks which were found in it—I sent Natt to London with some mangel-wursel on the 14th of Feb.—he would have to pass the house where Dodd was—he was allowed to take half a truss of this hay for his horses, but no more—there is about a sack full produced—that is about one-third of a truss.

HENRY MOUNT . I am a policeman. I received information, in consequence of which I watched Mr. Taplin's cart—on Tuesday, the 14th of Feb., I saw the cart come up, about six o'clock in the morning—it stopped close by the Swan, at Notting-hill—Dodd, with Natt's assistance, took a bag, or sack of corn off the cart—Dodd then took a truss of hay from the cart and took it to the stable—Natt and he had some conversation at the time—I watched the cart back again from town, about twelve o'clock, and Dodd then brought a similar sack out again, and put some more corn in front of the horses, but no more hay—I am sure the horses had none of the hay either in going or returning—I was close by—it appeared a whole truss—I have not weighed it since—it was tied up similar to a truss when I saw it in the morning—I afterwards apprehended Natt—I was in plain clothes—I told him what it was for—he said the horses had eaten all the hay, with the exception of what was in the cart—I afterwards apprehended Dodd, searched the loft, and found the truss of hay there—part of it was put in the rack—I fouud one of these marks in the rack, and two in the truss—he said the truss of hay had been there ever since he was at the place, which was above a month.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Then you saw in the stable the hay you had previously seen taken down from the cart? A. I judged it to be the same—it was about the same size—it was diminished in appearance and unfastened—I should say it was diminished in appearance by about the quantity

I found in the manger—I took possession of all I could find—I should say there was about a large armful in the manger—I was set to watch—I found no hay at all in the cart—there was some in a sack, under the cart, when it went to town in the morning, and by the appearance of it there was about the same quantity in the sack when it returned from town—it was then in the projecting part of the front of the cart—it was a sack loosely full—Dodd would have the opportunity of knowing whether the horses eat any of the hay—he had the key of the stable at the time I went there and found the hay, and he unlocked it—Natt did not take the horses and put them in the stable, they were fed at a crib in front of the house.

WALTER TAPLIN re-examined. Natt had no right to take a whole truss—I am not aware that he had a sack to carry the hay in—I did not know of his having a sack—the hay found in the sack would not have been enough to feed the horses—these are the wooden marks which I put in—one is tied with twine, and the other with a strong string.

Natt's Defence. I only took up half a truss, I fed my horses with part of it at the Swan, and gave them soot chaff and corn.

(Dodd received a good character.)

NATT— GUILTY . Aged 40.

DODD— GUILTY . Aged 37.

Recommended to mercy.— Confined Six Months.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 2nd, 1843.

Fourth Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-856
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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856. SAMUEL BEECH was indicted for feloniously and knowingly uttering a forged bill of exchange for 19l. 11s., with intent to defraud John Thornley; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 42.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-857
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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857. JOHN LEWIS was indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of John Andrews, after the hour of nine in the night of the 4th of Feb., at St. John the Evangelist, Westminster, with intent to steal, and stealing therein 1 boot, value 6d., his property; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . * Aged 15.— Transported for Ten Years.—Convict Ship.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-858
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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858. JOHN STANYARD was indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Hewett, on the 4th of Feb., at St. James's, Clerkenwell, and stealing therein 1 shilling, 4 sixpences, 3 groats, 23 pence, and 49 halfpence, his monies; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 15.— Transported for Ten Years.—Convict Ship.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-859
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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859. JOHN WILSON was indicted for stealing, on the 4th of Feb., 1 pewter pot, value 1s., the property of John Hobbs; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 40.— Confined One Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-860
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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860. RICHARD GAY was indicted for stealing, on the 7th of Feb., 1 saw, value 1s. 6d., the goods of William Bishop: also on the 4th of Feb., 1 bedstead, 16s.; the goods of James Samuel Anderson; to both which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 24.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-861
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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861. EDWARD COX was indicted for stealing, on the 20th of Feb., 2 pence, 8 halfpence, and 5 farthings, the monies of Ann Elton, his mistress; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-862
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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862. JOHN WILSON was indicted for stealing, on the 18th of Feb.,1 table-cloth, value 1s.; 1 sheet, 18d.; and 1 handkerchief, 6d.; the goods of John Bonner .

JOHN BONNER . I live in Upper Barnsbury-street, Islington. On the 18th of Feb. I was removing from Mile End, and the prisoner was one of those engaged in removing my furniture—I cannot identify these articles—I had such at my house at Mile End.

EMMA ALBON . I am servant at No. 1, Frederick-place, Mile End, where the prosecutor lodged—I know this table-cloth—I had seen it in the prosecutor's room about a week before he left—I do not remember seeing it the day he left—the prisoner helped us to move.

GEORGE HAMBROOK . I live in Regent-street, Mile End-road. I was at the prosecutor's house, moving the things, on the 18th of Feb.—I saw the prisoner assisting—about seven o'clock that evening, in consequence of information, I called the prisoner into the parlour, and asked if he had got anything about him—he said no—I saw this sheet under his waistcoat, and asked what he had got there—he pulled it out, and chucked it on the table—I asked if he had got anything else—he said no—I opened his waistcoat, and pulled this table-cloth from out of his breeches—I believe this to be the same—I sent for a policeman, and delivered the things to him.

JAMES SURRETT (police-constable N 249.) I was sent for, and took the prisoner with the table-cloth and sheet—they were on the table in the room—I have had them ever since—these produced are the same.

GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Four Months.

Before Mr. Justice Coleridge.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-863
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

863. GEORGE HART was indicted for feloniously and knowingly uttering, on the 11th of Feb., a counterfeit half-crown; having been previously convicted of uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.

CALEB EDWARD POWELL . I am assistant solicitor to the Mint. I produce a copy of the record of the conviction of George Hart, with another person, at this Court in July, 1841—this I have examined with the original record in Mr. Clark's office, and it is a true copy—(read.)

WILLIAM THOMAS FLETCHER (police-constable L 116.) I was present at the trial of the prisoner in July, 1841—he is the person who was then tried and convicted.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Are you quite certain of that? A. Yes, I had locked him up at the station in Waterloo-road—he was under my care from Saturday till Monday, and was a witness against him on his trial.

LOUISA HOARE . I am the wife of William Rundell Hoare, who keeps the Ben Jonson, in Wild-street, Lincoln's-inn-fields. On Saturday, the 11th of Feb., the prisoner came to our house with another man—one of them called for half a quartern of rum—I served them—they both partook of it—they threw down a good half-crown—I cannot say which of them it was—I took it up, kept it in my hand, and was about to give change, when one of them, I cannot say which, said, "We," or "I, have halfpence enough"—I then returned them the half-crown, and 2d. was put down—the rum came to 2 1/2 d.—I said it was another halfpenny—one of them said they had not another, and said, "I must give you the half-crown again," and a half-crown was given by the prisoner—I immediately saw it was a bad one—I had looked at the one they had given me before, and am certain it was not the same—I said it was bad, and refused to take it—the prisoner said it was not bad, and immediately asked his companion for a halfpenny,

which he gave him, and he threw it down—I gave the half-crown to my husband—he detained it, and they went away without it.

Cross-examined. Q. Did not you put the first half-crown into the till? A. It was in the till, but not out of my hand—I was in the act of giving change—I did not put it with the other money—I held it in my hand, and took the change out, keeping the half-crown in my hand—I did not put it in the till—I had the till open—I do not call that putting it into the till—it was not with the other money—(looking at his deposition)—this is my handwriting—it is what I swore at the police-office—(The deposition being read, stated, "One of them placed a good half-crown" on the counter, I took it up, and placed it in the till)—I mean to say that—I still kept it in my hand—we do a good deal of business—this was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening—the till was pretty full of money—I am quite certain the prisoner was one of the parties—I never saw him before to my knowledge—he was five or six minutes in the house—my husband detained him a short time—I did not see him again till the Monday week following, before the Magistrate—I am quite sure he is the man—he was dressed in his shirt-sleeves and coat and waistcoat, and he had on a rough light coat before the Magistrate—I know him by his countenance.

COURT. Q. Do you remember whether there were many half-crowns in the till? A. I cannot say—there was not a great deal of money, perhaps 9s. or 10s. in the till.

WILLIAM RUNDELL HOARE . I keep the Ben Johnson, in Great Wild-street. On Saturday, the 11th of February, two persons came to the bar to be served—the prisoner gave my wife a half-crown, which turned out to be a bad one—I have not a doubt of his being the person—my wife handed me the bad half-crown—I marked it, and gave it to Robins, the officer—I was standing at the bar at the acute angle of the counter—I saw a good half-crown thrown down on the counter—I heard it ring, and know it was good from the ringing of it—ours is a marble counter—I was waiting for some beer to take into another room, and I heard my wife say, "This is not the one you gave me just now"—as soon as I heard that I went and took the chain of the door, put my back against it, and said, "Don't you try to ring the changes with me, you are ringing them with a wrong party"—the prisoner said, "Upon my word, Mr. Hoare, it is no such thing, I was not aware of it; I have half-a-sovereign in my pocket if you want it"—I said, "I don't want half-a-sovereign, don't you try to ring the changes on me"—he was asking his fellow partner if he had got a halfpenny—I went to the door, looked about six or seven minutes for a policeman, I did not see one pass—our business would not allow me to keep the door closed any longer, and they went out—one went on one side of the street, and one on the other, both running up the street—Robins came up almost directly—I gave him the half-crown, telling him the circumstances—I think I detained them six or seven minutes—I had never seen the prisoner before, but he had got my name very perfectly.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you say any thing before the Magistrate about the prisoner running away? A. I did, but it is not in my deposition—they both ran away—I could see them all the way up the street—he did not produce the half-sovereign to me—I had never seen the other man before—I should know him again if I saw him—he was dressed in light bricklayer's trowsers with lime or something about it, and a cap on—the prisoner had a black hat with crape round it, neither coat nor waistcoat on, and I do not think he had any braces on—he looked just as if he had come out of a workshop—I put a cross on the R on the money—I think it was in the word "Gratia."

EDWIN ROBINS (police-constable F 66.) I was near Mr. Hoare's house on Saturday night, the 11th of February, between eight and nine o'clock—I saw the prisoner and another person leave Mr. Hoare's house as I was going to it—the prisoner crossed the street, and beckoned his companion over to him—I think he ran when he got a little further up—I took notice of the prisoner's person—I took him into custody on the Monday, about eleven o'clock, in Bow-street—I took him from knowing him well, having seen him before, and knew him when I saw him come out of Hoare's house—I received a half-crown from Mr. Hoare on Saturday night—I have kept it apart from other money since—I also produce another half-crown, which I received from Mr. Waters, of No. 75, Drury-lane, on the Monday.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure you saw the prisoner on the 11th? A. I am quite positive of it—he walked across the street—whether he ran I cannot say—I was examined before the Magistrate, and my examination was read over to me—this is it—I did not to my recollection say any thing before the Magistrate about having seen the prisoner on the 11th, but it was stated at the first examination—I said I had seen him before.—(The deposition being read, omitted to state that the witness saw the prisoner on the 11th.)

MARY ANN PHILLIPS . My husband is a cow-keeper, and lives in Wilson-street, Charles-street, Long-acre. On the 7th of February the prisoner came to our house, between five and six o'clock in the evening, for four eggs and a pennyworth of milk—I served him—it came to 5d., and he gave me half-a-crown in payment—I gave him change, and he went away—I placed the half-crown in my pocket—I had some small silver in my pocket, but no other half-crown—this was on the Tuesday evening—on the following morning I took the half-crown out of my pocket, looked at it, and found it was a bad one—I put it in paper in the side till—I marked it—I had another bad half-crown in the till which I had received that same week—I gave those two half-crowns to Brown, a policeman—I cannot tell which I received from the prisoner.

Cross-examined. A. You cannot be sure you had no other half-crown in the pocket? A. Yes, I can, I was very particular in knowing what money I had in my pocket—I counted what money I had in my pocket the following morning—I had two gaslights in the shop—it is not a small gaslight—I had seen the prisoner the week before, and took particular notice of him, he worked at a coach factory in the neighbourhood—I knew him when I saw him at Bow-street afterwards—I did not know him before.

MR. DOANE. Q. Had you seen him before he gave you the half-crown? A. Yes—I did not know his name, but I knew his person by his coming the week before, and coming as a regular customer always for eggs—he had come several times for eggs the week before, and my girl served him—I have no doubt whatever of him—he wanted to take up a shilling instead of sixpenee, which made me notice him at the time he passed the half-crown—I knew him at that time.

COURT. Q. Did he ever come after he left the bad half-crown? A. Yes—I told my husband he was the person, and my husband went to get the half-crown—I believe the prisoner took notice that there was something—he said, "I have forgot the money"—he went out of the shop and never returned.

JAMES BROWN (police-constable F 142.) On the 17th of Feb. I went to Mr. Phillips's, and received from Mrs. Phillips two half-crowns, which I produce.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you had them in your possession ever since? A. Yes—Mr. Powell looked at them, but they have never been out of my sight—the Magistrate saw them at Bow-street—two other half-crowns were produced there, but they were not put with these—these are the same two.

MARY ANN LECHMERE . I am bar-maid to Mr. Walter, who keeps a public-house in Drury-lane. On the 10th of Feb., about eight o'clock in the morning, the prisoner came and asked for a glass of the best rum—I served him—he put down a half-crown, then took it up again, and said he had coppers enough—he then put down 2d.—the rum came to 2 1/2 d.—I told him it was another half-penny—he took the coppers up again and threw down a half-crown—I gave him the change for that—put the half-crown into the till, and he went away—there was no other half-crown in the till—about an hour after, my master went to the till—I did not see him take the half-crown out—he brought it to me in the bar parlour—I then found it was bad—I marked it on the Monday after—I had taken no other half-crown that morning—no one was serving at the bar besides me and Mr. Walter that morning.

Cross-examined. Q. You do a good deal of business early in the morning? A. Pretty well—I am positive I did not take any other half-crown that morning.

WILLIAM WALTERS . I keep this public-house. On the morning of the 10th of Feb., about nine o'clock, I went to the till and took out half-a-crown—I had not taken half-a-crown that morning—I showed the half-crown to the bar-maid, and kept it till the following morning, and then gave it to Robins.

Cross-examined. Q. You had half-crowns of your own, I suppose? A. Yes—I put this in a drawer immediately I took it from the till—not a drawer in which money was kept, but books and papers—I marked it on Monday on giving it to the policeman—I did not see the prisoner.

COURT. Q. Was anybody helping you that morning but the bar-maid? A. No.

MR. JOHN FIELD . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—the two half-crowns first produced are counterfeit—these other two are also counterfeit, and both cast in the same mould.

Cross-examined. Q. Then the others are not? A. I do not think they are, they do not correspond with the other two, or with each other.

GUILTY . Aged 23.— Transported for Ten Years.

First Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-864
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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864. NATHANIEL SHIELDS was indicted for uttering a forged request for the delivery of goods, with intent to defraud Robert Roberts.

MR. PRENDERGAST conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN ROBERTS . I am shopman to Robert Roberts, a tobacconist, St. John-street. On the 11th of Feb., between eleven and twelve o'clock, the prisoner came to the shop and handed me this order for tobacco—he said he had brought it from Fletcher and Tomlins, of Barnet (who are regular customers of ours), and wanted to know at what time it would be ready and he would call for it—I said in about an hour and a half—he said he bad not had his breakfast, could I tell him of a coffee-shop—that he had come all the way from Barnet that morning, and had had nothing—I told him there was one close by—after he left the shop one or two parties came in, and my suspicion was created—I went to him to the coffee-shop, and said the order was ready—he came over with me—my object was to show him to the parties—he did not say anything when he came over—I did not deliver the goods to him—this is the paper he brought—(read)—"Mr. Roberts, St. John-street. Please send by bearer 1/4 cwt. super shag, 7lbs. negrohead, 7lbs. bogie-roll, for Fletcher and Tomlins, Barnet."

Prisoner. Q. What particular marks have you of my identity? Witness. Quite sufficient—I sent a person after him to take him—the order is just as

it came to us—it says, "Fletcher and Tomlins, Barnet," not at Barnet—you said you brought it from Barnet—I am sure you are the person.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did Fenton see him in your shop? Yes, and followed him out—the prisoner said his wagon was at the Rainbow public-house, Liverpool-road, and we said we would send the goods there.

ROBERT FENTON . I am employed in Mr. Roberts's shop—I was not present when this order was delivered, but saw Roberts bring the prisoner in—I said I would send the goods to the Rainbow, which he said was opposite Islington workhouse—I followed him from the shop—he should have gone straight up St. John-street to go to Islington, but he dodged me by going round the coach-stand to avoid me, turned up Percival-street to John's-row, and turned into Ironmonger-row, which is towards the City again—I stopped him there, and asked where we were to send the goods he had ordered for Fletcher and Tomlins, of Barnet—he said, "I have not been giving any order at all, I have not been near your house"—I told him where our house was—I bad seen him go out of the shop, and followed till I gave him in charge.

Prisoner. Q. Why not call after me? Witness. Because I thought you had confederates—I gave you in charge about half or three quarters of a mile from our shop—I asked if you was the person who delivered the order, and you said "No"—I lost sight of you for about one second—you turned round several streets into Goswell-street—I was about nine yards from you when you turned by the cigar-shop into Ironmonger-row—then saw you come out of a cigar-shop with a lighted cigar—I gave you in charge.

COURT. Q. Was he going in a direction for the Rainbow? A. No, quite contrary.

JAMES FLETCHER . I am in partnership with Mr. Tomlins, tobacconist, at Barnet—we deal with Mr. Roberts—I never saw the prisoner till he was at the police court—this order is not written by me or my partner, nor any one belonging to us—I never authorised him to get this tobacco.

PETER HENRY SIMS . I am a policeman. On the 11th of Feb. Fenton directed my attention to the prisoner in Goswell-street—he was not going in the way from St. John-street to Islington—he went up Wellington-street and down Ironmonger-row—I then took him into custody—Fenton asked him where the goods were to be sent—he said he was not the person who had been to Roberts's.

Prisoner. State what you found on me. Witness. Three half-sovereigns, sixpence, and 5s.—I did not see you go into the cigar-shop—we were a few paces behind—you had a white hat on—(here the prisoner produced a drab hat with a green brim)—that is like it—I lost sight of you about a minute—one question put to you was, whether you were the person who tendered the order—you said no.

Prisoner's Defence. I am not the man; I was walking that way, and suppose I was the unlucky fellow to be given in charge.

JOHN ROBERTS re-examined. The prisoner never had the goods—they were made up, but I undid them—when he came to the shop he had a hat on like that he has produced.

GUILTY .—Aged 21.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-865
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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865. NATHANIEL SHIELDS was again indicted for feloniously uttering, on the 30th of Jan., a forged request for the delivery of goods, with intent to defraud John Lloyd, and another.

WILLIAM WATKINS LLOYD . I am clerk to my cousins, John and Francis Lloyd, Snow-hill. On the 13th of Jan. the prisoner came to their shop and presented this order, and said he had come up to town with Dancer's wagon

—that the wagon had made an extra journey that week to bring some goods to the West-end of the town, the horses were tired, having been to town the day before, and as the wagon would not come into the City, we must send the goods up to the West-end—Essex and Robertson are customers of ours—(order read)—"Mr. Little, Snowhill. Please send per Dancer 1/4 cwt. super. shag, 7lbs. negrohead, 7lbs. bogie-roll, for Essex and Robinson, High Wycombe."—He said he must have the goods directly, and would take them with him, and in the mean time would go and get a bit of dinner, and come back when it was ready—he came back—the young man was marking the parcel—I entered a form of receipt in the book, which he signed in the name of Dancer, and took the goods with him, which were worth 8l. odd—I have never seen them since—I am certain of him—he took a covering off his head when he came into the counting-house, and my belief is, it was the same peculiar cap he has now—I have not the slightest doubt of him—here is the receipt which he signed.

GEORGE WILLIS . I am foreman to Mr. Essex, who trades under the firm of Essex and Robinson, High Wycombe. I manage the business, and always write the orders to London for goods—Mr. Essex never writes an order—this order was not written by me, nor anybody connected with our house—it is not Mr. Essex's—Dancer's wagon comes down twice a week—I never knew the prisoner, and did not receive these goods.

THOMAS ESSEX . I trade under the firm of Essex and Robinson, of High Wycombe, the business having been his once—I do not interfere with it, but leave it all to the foreman—I know nothing of this order—it is not the writing of anybody in my employ—I never authorised the prisoner to get the goods—about five weeks ago I was standing at my shop door, and the prisoner asked me for a Mr. Stewart in the tobacco trade—I said I knew no such man, that we traded with Rappen and Co.—he said, "Anybody else?"—I said, "Yes, Messrs. Lloyds"—he said he wanted to see Stewart, he thought he must be the traveller for their house, and asked their address—I said, "Snow-hill"—I am certain he is the man—he stood talking with me about ten minutes, and had a black cloth cap on—he is not connected with Dancer's wagon.

Prisoner. I am not the man.

GUILTY . Aged 21.— Transported for Ten Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-866
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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866. TERENCE M'GAMMON was indicted for stealing, on the 7th of Feb., 28lbs. weight of coals, value 5d., the goods of James Kent.

HENRY JOSEPH KING . I am a Thames police-constable. On the 7th of Feb., about twelve o'clock in the day, I was with Shane at New Crane wharf, and saw the prisoner going along the shore, and climb up the gunwale of a barge, throw several lumps of coal down, then get down, put them into his basket, and take them to New Crane stairs, where I secured him—he said they did not belong to him but to another boy, who had run away.

JOSEPH SHANE . I am a constable of the Thames-police. I saw the prisoner go to the barge called the James, and throw the coals down, get down, and put them into his basket—I got a sample of the coals from the barge.

JAMES KENT . I am a lighterman and coal-merchant, and live in the Commercial-road. The James belongs to me, and was laden with coals—I cannot swear to the coals found in the basket—mine were West Hartley coals.

Prisoner's Defence. It was not me, it was a boy who ran away.

HENRY THOMAS KING . There were three boys on the shore—I am sure I saw him take the coals himself—the other boys were dodging about the vessels.

GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Four Days.

OLD COURT.—Friday, March 3rd, 1843.

Third Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-867
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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867. JOHN TAYLOR was indicted for stealing, on the 24th of Feb., at St. James's, Westminster, 2 coats, value 5l. 15s.; and 1 pair of shoes, 5s.; of Eugene Coulon, in his dwelling-house; to which he pleaded

GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-868
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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868. JOHN TAYLOR was indicted for stealing, on the 21st of Dec., 1 pair of boots, value 2s. 6d.; and 1 handkerchief, 2s.; the goods of Robert Massy, on board a certain vessel, in a port of entry and discharge.

HENRY PARISH . I belong to a vessel, and live in Cross-street, Back-lane, St. George's-in-the-East. On the 21st of Dec. I went to the ship, which laid in the London dock, and saw the prisoner down in the forecastle hiding himself in one of the berths—we brought him on deck, searched him, and found two silk handkerchiefs in his breast belonging to Henry Brown, the apprentice—he claimed them in the prisoner's presence—he is gone to sea—we let the prisoner go—I asked him what he did there—he said he came for a lodging.

ROBERT MASSY . I belong to the ship, and am apprenticed to the owner. On the 21st of Dec., in consequence of information, when I came to the ship I missed a pair of boots and a black handkerchief—the boots produced are mine—I had left the vessel at eleven o'clock, and the shoes were safe in my berth.

JOSIAH CHAPMAN . I am a policeman. I took the prisoner into custody—he had these boots on—he said they were his own property, and he should not take them off without the Magistrate's order—I called in another constable, and he then pulled them off—I took them to Massy, who claimed them immediately.

Prisoners Defence. I deny the boots being his; they were bought at the Cape of Good Hope.

ROBERT MASSY re-examined. I had them soled and heeled a short time before—I bought them last January—the prisoner had no business with them.

GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Two Months.

Second Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-869
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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869. JOHN CARPENTER was indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Allden, about twelve o'clock in the night of the 12th of Feb., at St. Botolph without Aldgate, with intent to steal, and stealing therein 4 sovereigns, 8 half-sovereigns, 3 half-crowns, 56 shillings, 85 sixpences, and 60 groats, his monies.

MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN ALLDEN . I am a green-grocer, and live at No. 2, Rosemary-lane—the house No. 2, Queen-street, belongs to me—there is an entrance from that house into my own—I have lodgers in that house. On Sunday night, the 12th of Feb., I came home about twelve o'clock—I went into my house through No. 22, Queen-street, passing through the cellar, into the house in Rosemary-lane—on opening a flat, I got into the shop—I slammed the Queen-street door to, and went up to bed in the house in Rosemary-lane—I saw my money safe on the Saturday night in the parlour in Rosemary-lane, I cannot say exactly how much—it might be 20l., 22l., or 23l., in gold, silver, and copper, it was in a bowl in the sideboard drawer—I came down stairs between seven and eight o'clock on Monday morning, found the bowl lying on the table, and the money gone—the drawer was wrenched open with a screw-driver—I

found they had got in by opening the parlour door from the shop—at could be opened by turning the handle—my wife had been down before me—I occasionally employed the prisoner about my premises—he knew them very well—in consequence of suspicion, I gent Brown, my shopman, to the prisoner's place—he did not come, and I went to his place with a constable—he lives about sixty yards from me—we found him in bed—I told him I wanted him on suspicion of this robbery—his wife made some remark, which I did not hear, but he told her to hold her tongue, with an oath—he said it was a d----fine go—he was taken into custody, and about 1s. 10d. was found on the table in the room—the wife said her mother had lent her that—I went into the cellar of the house the prisoner lived in, with two others—we found a bag of money in the cellar, which was full of cinders and rubbish—the prisoner did not occupy the whole house—there is a sixpence among the money which I can speak to with certainty—I cannot speak to the money found in the room—I cannot say how many lodgers there are in the prisoner's house, whether there are two or ten—he and his wife have only one room.

THOMAS WILLIAM BROWN . I am shop-boy to the prosecutor. On Monday morning I got the key of the cellar door from master's bed-room, and opened the cellar, to get into the shop—I went in at the Queen-street door—I opened the shop, went into the parlour, found the sideboard drawer drawn out and put on the table—the bowl was against the door, empty—two tools were taken out of a tool-box which was under the sideboard—I rang the street door bell, and alarmed mistress—in the course of the day I found this padlock, which I had seen in the cellar door on Sunday aftertoon—I went for the prisoner about half-past ten o'clock, by master's desire, and found the prisoner in bed—his wife asked me, was it a job, or what—I said I did not know, but master wanted him—she wanted me to awake him, but I could not—I returned and told master.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How did you get into the house in the morning? A. The street door was open—I do not know whether it is open all night—it is generally shut in the morning—I first got into the house through a vault, then up stairs, and down again.

JOHN HENNES . I live in Chick-lane, Whitechapel, and am a cabinet-maker. I saw the prisoner about the entrance of the prosecutor's premises in Queen-street on Sunday evening, between eight and nine o'clock—he asked me to treat him to a pint of beer—I said "No"—about half an hour after I was in Alden's shop—the prisoner came towards the door, and looked in round the door-post in Rosemary-lane—he merely said, "Governor, your door is open."

Cross-examined. Q. What were you about? A. I am just the same there as Alden—I was minding the place while Mrs. Alden went out—the prisoner seemed sober.

JANE ALLDEN . I am the prosecutor's wife. On the Sunday night I went through the cellar, and locked the entrance from the house in Queen-street, then went up to bed—I put the padlock on at half-past ten o'clock—I had noticed the sixpence among the money that week—I know this to be it—I do not know who occupied the cellar.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-870
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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870. JEREMIAH SULLIVAN and PETER HANDS COMBE were indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Litton, on the 7th of Feb., at the hamlet of Mile-end New-town, and stealing therein, 1 scarf, value 1s. 6d.; 2 aprons, 8d.; 2 towels, 8d.; 1 frock, 1s.; 3 shirts, 1s.; 4 pinafores, 1s. 4d.; 1 bed-gown, 4d.; 1 petticoat, 2d.; 2 dusters, 2d.; and 1 vice, 6d.; his goods: and 1 metal cock, 1s.; 20 inches of leaden pipe, 1s.; his goods, fixed to a certain building; against the Statute, &c.

MARY ANN LITTON . I am the wife of Thomas Litton—we live at No. 81, Church-street, in the hamlet of Mile-end New-town—I occupy the lower room—the landlord does not live in the house—the lodgers have separate rooms—I take in mangling. On Friday night, the 17th of Feb., I fastened down the window of my room, which looks into the back yard—there is a cellar under my room, which has an entrance into the street, and another into the yard—the lodgers have the use of it—on leaving my room I locked the door, and took the key with me, at two o'clock, and went up to the first floor to Mrs. Napper, and remained with her about an hour—I came down, and found the room door fast, as I had left it—I opened it with the key, and saw the room in great confusion, the back window and back door open—I had left it shut—I called Mrs. Napper down—when I got into the room I saw two boys run out of the cellar—Sullivan I can swear was one of them, but cannot swear to the other—they ran under the fence into the next yard, and into the passage of the next house—I went to the door, and saw them run across the road—a policeman ran after them—Sullivan was afterwards brought in by a policeman—I missed the water-pipe and tap from the wash-house, which is in the cellar—I missed from my room a scarf, some halfpence, towels, shirts, and pinafores and other things—my back door opens into the wash-house—the policeman and Mrs. Napper searched the cellar under my room, from which the boys had run, and found a bag of things.

Combe. I was at home at the time it was done.

ELIZABETH NAPPEE . The prosecutrix came to my room to do some needlework—after she went down she called me—I found her room in confusion—the back window and door open—she called the policeman—I did not see the boys run out of the cellar, but I ran to the street-door, and saw them run out of the next house, which they could get through by passing into the yard—I am quite certain of Sullivan, and have every reason to believe Combe is the other—I ran after him, calling "Stop thief "—he turned round twice, and looked at me—I have every reason to believe be is the one—he was running with Sullivan.

ELIZABETH ROGERS . I am the wife of John Rogers, a weaver, of Church-street, Mile-end, next door to the prosecutrix. At the time of this occurrence I was going into the yard, and saw two boys come out of Mrs. Little's cellar—it was the prisoners—they both spoke to me, and both said, "Oh, pray ma'am, let us pass, for there is a man in there after us"—I am certain of them both—they opened my door, and ran into the street.

CHARLES TIBBY (police-constable K 144.) I was passing Mrs. Little's house on the 17th, and heard an alarm in the street—Mrs. Little called me into the house—I saw Sullivan in the yard getting under the fence—I only saw one then—when I was called into the street, I saw Sullivan and one answering the description of Combe—Sullivan was stopped by a milkman—I took him back to the prosecutrix's house—when I stopped him he said it was not him that was in the house—I observed the pipe cut, and in searching in the cellar under her room I found a bag containing the articles produced—I said, "Here is the leaden pipe "—he said, "It was not me cut it, it was the other one."

MICHAEL CONVEY . I am a policeman. I received information, and took Combe on the 18th of February, at his father's house, No. 30, Duke-street, Spitalfields—he said he knew nothing of the charge, he was innocent, and that Sullivan was a rogue—I had told him I wanted him for being concerned with Sullivan in breaking into Mrs. Little's place.

MRS. LITTON. All these articles are my husband's—all except the pipe was taken from the room.

Combe's Defence. I was at home at the time it was done.

JOHN LANE . I live in King's Head-court, Shoreditch, and am out of place at present—my last place was at a hair-dresser's—my mother works in White Lion-court—I saw the prisoner Combe this day fortnight, about half-past two o'clock—it was on a Friday—I cannot read, and do not know the day of the month—I saw him by the City of London Theatre, coming down by the side of the theatre—he was standing still—I know it was half-put two, because some boys had gone in from their dinner—I had not left them half an hour—one worked at Brooks's, in Norton Falgate—they go to dinner at half-past one, and all go into Brooks's at half-past two from dinner—Brooks keeps an oil-shop—I had my dinner about the same time—I dined at home—I saw him about the time the boys were going to dinner, at half-past one.

Q. Why say you saw him at half-past two? A. They all go in at half-past two—one boy lives in King's Head-square—I live near there—I am sure of the time, for I had not left the clock five minutes—it was twenty-five minutes past two by the clock at the corner of King's Head-court—I do not know where the prisoner had been to dinner—it was just at the time the boys went into Brooks's—he was between five and ten minutes' walk from his house.

MRS. LITTON. My house is a quarter of an hour or ten minutes' walk from the City Theatre.

MICHAEL CANNING . It is about ten minutes' walk.



Transported for Ten Years.—Parkhurst.

(Combe had been tried seven or eight times before.)

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-871
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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871. GEORGE PEVER was indicted for stealing, on the 23rd of Feb., 1 cloak, value 2l. 10s.; 4 gowns, 4l. 4s.; 2 shawls, 2l. 4s.; 1 pair of shoes, 2s. 6d.; and 1 veil, 2s. 6d.; the goods of " John Knight; and I gown, 8s.; the goods of Catherine Charlotte Knight, in her dwelling-house

CATHERINE CHARLOTTE KNIGHT . I am single, and live at St. Mary-at-hill, with my mother. On Thursday morning, the 23rd of February, a little before ten o'clock, I saw the prisoner coming down my stairs, with a large bundle of clothes—I said, "Oh, you are a thief!"—he passed by me down the stairs, opened the street-door, turned round, threw the bundle in my face, and went out—he did not say anything about a lark—the bundle contained the articles stated, which were taken from a box in my mother's bed-room—the bed-room had been fastened—I also missed some silver spoons, some gold seals, and trinkets, which I have never got back—I never saw the prisoner before—I am surf he is the man.

Cross-examined ly MR. DOANE. Q. Have you a father? A. Yes—he is not here—he and my brother are in the Compter—my brother robbed me of 60l., and took it to my father—I believe they sent the prisoner to take these things—I have no doubt of it—they have been examined four times at the Mansion-house, and are still remanded.

CATHERINE KNIGHT . I am the wife of John Knight, but he has not acted as a husband to me. The house is my daughter's—she pays the rent—it was taken in her name, and she is the tenant—one of the gowns is her property—the other articles are mine—the prisoner has been acquainted with my son to my certain knowledge three years—the day before the robbery he came and asked for a shirt for my son, who has been doing every depredation against me and my children, by his father's jurisdiction—I said, "Who sent you?"—he said, "Not the old man, but your son John "—I said, "How long have you known him?"—he said, "I have been locked up in the

Compter a fortnight, for an assault"—I said, "Where is the Compter?"—he said, "In Newgate-street"—I refused to send it—the handkerchief he had on that day is the handkerchief which is wrapped round the things he stole—I was not at home then—I had only been out nine minutes, and when I returned I found a crowd round the house.

CATHERINE CHARLOTTE KNIGHT . re-examined. This gown is mine—it was tied up in the handkerchief—the jewellery is my mother's—I have always lived with my mother, away from my father—the house is mine—I saved up the money—my mother gave me a little, and I saved the other by being her servant for about six years—Mrs. Parsons, of Clapham, is the landlady of the house—I pay her rent—I have paid her rent twice—we have not been in the house long—I am the tenant, and not my mother.

Cross-examined. Q. You were examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes—(looking at her deposition)—this is my mark—it was read over to me—(the deposition being read, stated, "You are a thief—how did you get in?—he threw the bundle in my face and said it was a lark")—he did not say so to me—he said it to a man outside the door—I did not say, "How did you get in?"—that musty be a mistake.

Q. When did you last see your father? A. On Wednesday—I have lived separate from him ten years, with my mother—there is no man lodging in the house—I know a person named Whitboum, a fishmonger in Billingsgate—I have known him twenty years—he does not come to the house very often, nor anybody else—I am twenty-three years old—I pay the rent with the money my mother gives me, but the house is taken in my name—she maintains herself by hard labour—I do not get my living by anything in particular.

CATHERINE KNIGHT . re-examined. I formerly kept an eating-house in Tooley-street for many years, and saved money up, and not keeping a servant I allowed my daughter money—I made her a present as I was able—I have only left the eating-house about six weeks myself—we have hardly been existing since then—my daughter is afflicted with fits, and is not able to be left without my protection—the house we reside in was taken for the purpose of letting it out to lodgers, but I have not been able to obtain any since I have been surrounded by this den of thieves—I took the house in my daughter's name to avoid my husband interfering with me—I have not drinking to-day—I had part of a pot of porter for dinner—nothing else.

WILLIAM SMITH (City police-constable, No. 558.) The prisoner gave himself up on Friday, the 24th—I found this small coin in the corner of his waistcoat pocket.

MRS. KNIGHT re-examined. This coin was in one of the trinket boxes where all the silver spoons and trinkets were—I have had it many years.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY. of stealing the gown. Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-872
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation; Not Guilty > unknown

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872. MARY REEVES and ANN PARSONS were indicted for stealing, on the 26th of Feb., 14lbs. 4oz. weight of beef, value 5s. 10d.; 1lb. 12oz. weight of pork, 1s.; 2lbs. 4oz. weight of mutton, 9d.; 1 bundle of wood, 1/2 d.; 1 bottle, 1d.; half a pint of beer, 1d.; 2 plates, 3d.; and 4 knife-cloths, 1s.; the goods of Robert Thomas Pocklington, the master of Parsons.

ROBERT THOMAS POCKLINGTON . I am a butcher, and live in Old Change. Parsons was in my service about five months as cook—I saw some meat at the station-house, in charge of the policeman, which I claim—my father had bought part of the meat for me on Saturday—Reeves used to come backwards and forwards to Parsons, who is her sister, and Parsons used to go out to see her.

WILLIAM BAILEY (City police-constable, No. 432.) On the morning of

the 26th of Feb. I was going down Distaff-lane about a quarter to seven o'clock, and noticed the prosecutor's shop door five or six inches open—I saw it gently closing from the inside—I stood at the corner next to Old Change for about ten minutes, and then saw Reeves come out with something under her cloak, I followed her up Distaff-lane into Friday-street, round St. Paul's-churchyard, to Ludgate-hill—I there asked what she had got—she said, "I have got some beef"—I said, "Where have you brought them from?"—she said, "From No. 24, King William-street"—I said, "I mutt detain you, I know where you have come from"—I asked if she had been anywhere else with them—she said, "No"—I found a piece of mutton, beef, and pork, a bottle of beer, a jar of dripping, a piece of suet, some potatoes, a bundle of wood, and the cloths the meat was wrapped in—I took her in charge then—I went to the station, left her there, and went to inform Mr. Pocklington—it was then about half-past seven—when I got to the door Parsons was going up Distaff-lane with her clothes in two bundles—I took her into custody, and told her she must go with me—she appeared as if she was leaving her situation—I cannot say that she was at home when Reeves came out of the shop.

HENRY JOHN TEAGUE (City police-constable, No. 402.) I went to Reeves's house—I understand she is married—I found two plates, and a knife-cloth marked with the prosecutor's initials—I did not see her husband—I found her children there, one about seven, and one about ten years of age—I know it was her lodging from letters found on Parsons.

ROBERT THOMAS POCKLINGTON re-examined. I identified three pieces of beef, some mutton, and a piece of pork at the station—my father had bought part of the beef for me—I had seen it on my premises—it was taken down stairs to salt the night before—I could swear to it when I saw it—it is not here.

Cross-examined by MR. WYLDE. Q. Was there anything very peculiar about the beef? A. Nothing—I had no other piece like it at that time—the piece of pork I knew, for we had twelve pieces put down stairs at night, and there was only eleven in the morning—I have six servants—Parsons had not the custody of these things—they were taken out of my shop—no one in particular had charge of the shop—it is open to my servants—she would have charge of the shop at that hour in the morning—none of my servants should be there at that time—there is no one here to prove that she taw Reeves when she came that morning.

(Reeves received a good character.)

REEVES— GUILTY . Aged 29.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined One Month.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-873
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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873. FRANCIS GIZZARD was indicted for feloniously and knowingly uttering, on the 18th of Feb., a forged order for the payment of 41l., with intent to defraud Martha Capel.

MARTHA CAPEL . I am a widow, and keep a lodging-house in Fox's-lane, Shadwell—the prisoner came to lodge at my house, and remained about a month—he said he had got a berth, on board the ship Euphrates, and on the 18th of Feb. he produced a paper, which he said was a letter of advance, for 4l.—I cashed it for him—he offered me 14s. to board him from Saturday morning till Monday morning, and 5s. for cashing it—I paid him 17s. on account, believing it was a good order—he was anxious to have more, but I had not got it—he paid me for his lodging weekly. (The order being read, purposed to be an advance note of the ship Euphrates, hound to Bombay and China, signed, "John Robinson, Commander.")

SAMUEL DUDLEY . I am a shoemaker, and lodge with the prosecutrix, who is my sister—the prisoner lodged at her house—he told me on the Friday that he had got a ship, and was going to Bombay and China—he called it the Euphrates—my sister showed me this note on Satuiday night, the 18th, and on the Sunday I met the carpenter of the Euphrates, and mentioned it to him—the prisoner had told me that he had left his advance note with my sister, and he asked her for 18d. more in my presence—she did not give it to him—he came home tipsy—I questioned him next day about the ship, as I learnt it was not a genuine note—I saw him on Monday, and told him the ship was not going to Bombay as he represented—he said it was, and that she laid against the jetty, in the London Docks.

GEORGE SMITH (police-constable K 38.) I went with Dudley to Fox's-lane, Shadwell, and took the prisoner into custody, with the note—in going along he said he would give Capel the 17s. when he got a ship if she would let him go.

JOHN HENDERSON . I am clerk to Marshall and Co., ship brokers, in Fen-church-street—they are brokers for the Euphrates, which laid against the jetty, in the London Docks—she was bound for Sidney and New South Wales—John Christmas was the commander—there is no John Robinson authorised to issue advance notes—this note purports to be drawn on us—we should not pay it—nobody had authority to draw it—we do not know John Robinson.

Prisoner's Defence. I met a man last Friday, between eleven and twelve, close to Shadwell church, who asked if I wanted a ship, and said he would ship me immediately if 1 would give him 2s. I said, "Yes;" he produced this note, and said they were made out, he had nothing to do but to put the name in it; I gave him my name and he put it in the note; I asked him about signing the articles; he mentioned the name of the ship, and where it laid; he told me the ship was to sail on Tuesday; he appeared a respectable man; I went to my lodging, told the prosecutrix I had shipped, and gave her the note, intending to go in the ship; I did not know it was a forged note or I would not have given it her.

JOHN HENDERSON re-examined. At the time seamen sign articles there is generally an advance note given—I never knew it to be done until they sign the articles—men go about seeking sailors for vessels, but they have not advance notes—some notes have come to our office of the same kind, wrong notes of ships, which we know nothing about, but they were addressed to Leadenhall-street—I know nothing of the prisoner—there are persons who go about to get hands for ships—a day is appointed for the men to sign articles, they all go down then, and the master takes all he likes, and rejects those be does not like—then they have advance notes—I never knew an instance of a seaman taking a note without going on board to ascertain about the voyage.

Prisoner. The landlady knows I have been to sea; I have been on board a ship which her own son has gone out in; he took me to lodge there; I paid her for my lodging honestly.

MARTHA CAPEL re-examined. He had not left my house when he was taken—it was owing to what my brother learnt that I had him taken up—he paid me regularly for a month 3s. a-week—I know he was at sea before—he had the appearance of a sailor when he came—I do not know what voyage he had been.

GEORGE SMITH re-examined. He told the same story at the station—he did not describe the man he met, or put me in the way to apprehend any one that had imposed on him—he was asked if he should know the man again, and he said he did not think he should, that it was given to him in a hurry, at the corner of Fox-lane.

Prisoner. I have my discharge from my last Captain; the ship is now in the London Docks, it is the Rookers, Captain Barnes; my brother knows the time of my going to sea; I have been at sea for the last fourteen years; on the Monday morning I was accosted in the street by a man in the same way, who asked if I would go to Liverpool; I said no, I had a ship; it is a customary thing in Ratcliff-highway, the Jews have bills in their windows, soliciting men, and by paying 2s. or 3s. they ship you, and give an advance note there.

JOHN HENDERSON re-examined. There is a vessel called the Rookers, and it sails, I think, from Calcutta.

WILLIAM GIZZARD . I am the prisoner's brother—he has been at sea for the last fourteen years—he was on board the Rookers about eleven months and a half, and sailed to Calcutta; he has been to China, America, and a great many voyages.


Before Lord Chief Justice Tindal.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-874
VerdictNot Guilty > non compos mentis

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874. DANIEL M'NAUGHTEN was indicted for the wilful murder of Edward Drummond:—he was also charged, on the Coroner's Inquisition, with the like offence.


JAMES SILVER (police-constable A 63.) On Friday, the 20th of Jan., I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Charing-cross—about ten minutes before four o'clock in the afternoon I was on the right hand side, coming from Whitehall, near Mr. Gould, the fishmonger's—I heard the report of a pistol on the opposite side, which attracted my attention—I saw a gentleman reeling, with his left hand under his left side—I saw his coat on fire—he was near Mr. Tatham, the gunsmith's, on the opposite side of the street to where I was—I also saw the prisoner returning a pistol into his left breast with his right hand—I should say he was four yards, as near as I can speak, from the gentleman who was reeling, behind him—I next saw him draw another pistol from his right breast, with his left hand, and place it in his right hand, I instantly ran across to him—when I got to him he had just presented the pistol at the same gentleman who I had seen stagger—he had got the pistol up, and presented it—I seized his right arm, and closing in with him with my left, we struggled very hard, until the pistol went off on the pavement—I put my foot under him, tripped him up, and the pistol was discharged on the pavement—he struggled violently—when I seized his right arm he endeavoured to force it up again, and finding he could not, endeavoured to turn with me, and I prevented that—I did not throw him down—I nearly fell myself—I kicked his foot up—I took the longest pistol from his right hand, and the other one from his breast—I took him immediately to the station on the way, near Whitehall—he said either he, or she, I cannot say which, should not break his peace of mind any longer—that was all he said, as I was taking him along—when I arrived at the station I searched him, and found ten percussion caps on him, two 5l. Bank of England notes, and a receipt for 750l. of the Glasgow and Shipping Bank, four sovereigns, four half-crowns, one shilling, a fourpenny-piece, and one penny in copper, a knife, a key, and a small card—I did not ask the gentleman, in the prisoner's presence, where he livedd—the prisoner gave his name and address, "Daniel M'Naughten, 7, Poplar-row, Newington"—the gentleman I saw reeling was Mr. Edward Drummond—I had known him some time, in consequence of being on duty so often in that part, having seen him so often come out of Sir Robert Peel's and the Privy Council Office, likewise having seen him so often—I have seen coming from

Sir Robert Peel's house frequently—I have been more than five year on that beat—he was in the habit of coming backwards and forwards from Sir Robert Peel's house and the Privy Council Office—I produce the different articles found on the prisoner—this is the ball which was extracted—I received that from Colonel Drummond, the brother of Mr. Edward Drummond.

Cross-examined by MR. COCKBURN. Q. Can you tell me what time elapsed between the time you heard the shot and seeing him raise the second pistol?

A. A very short time indeed, I should say a few seconds—the moment that occurred I sprang from the pavement—I was on the opposite side of the road—if I had not been very quick he would have discharged it—he had his hand up to discharge it when I seized him, not when I first saw him—after I pinioned him he tried to force his arm up, but I stopped him—I had no assistance—Weston came after he was secured.

BENJAMIN WESTON . I am an office-porter. On Friday, the 20th of Jan., about five minutes before four o'clock in the afternoon, I was in the neighbourhood of Charing-cross, and heard a report of fire-arms—on looking round, I saw a gentleman staggering, with his left band on his left loin, pointing to the prisoner, who was about three paces behind him when I first saw him—he drew back a pace or two, put his right hand into his left breast, and drew a pistol, placed the barrel in his left hand, cocked it, and turned round to the same gentleman that I saw reeling, and was taking his aim at him—instantly the officer, Silver, sprang on him, pinioned his arms, struck him on the right arm, and in the scuffle the pistol was discharged.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. This was the second pistol, was it? A. Yes—he was deliberate in taking the pistol from his breast, cocking it, and putting it into his left hand, but he was very quick about it—I was about eighteen paces from him—there was nobody between him and me at the time—I saw him deliberately put the pistol out of his right hand into his left, so as to enable him to cock it—I did not hear the nick of the pistol when he cocked it, but I could tell by the motion—it seemed a cool, deliberate act, as far as I could judge of it.

RICHARD JACKSON . I am a surgeon and apothecary, and live in Charles-street, Hay market. I was acquainted with Mr. Edward Drummond from his infancy—I was sent for on the 20th of Jan., in the afternoon, down to Charing-cross, and found him in the private room of Mr. Drummond's banking-house—he had been wounded at that time—he said he had been shot in the back—I satisfied myself that he had been wounded, but did not examine the wound—I recommended his removal to his own house, in Grosvenor-street, as soon as convenient—Mr. Drummond ordered his carriage, and I went with him in it—Mr. Guthrie and Mr. Bransby Cooper, and myself, attended him—the ball was extracted within an hour after he was shot, by Mr. Guthrie—he died on the Wednesday morning following.

GEORGE JAMES GUTHRIE , Esq. I am a surgeon. On the 20th of Jan. I was called to attend Mr. Edward Drummond—I saw him at five o'clock in the evening—Miss Drummond came in a carriage to my door, and took me to the house—Mr. Bransby Cooper was there at the time—he had examined the wound before I arrived, and as I had perfect reliance on his anatomical and surgical knowledge, I did not proceed to examine it in the way he had done, but we both together examined a little further, and, on ascertaining the manner he was wounded, we at once turned to the spot where we thought it likely the ball would be, whether it had gone round or through his body, and there we found it almost in a moment—the wound being behind, the ball was nearly corresponding in front—it laid within half an inch, Mr. Drummond being very fat—the ball was extracted from the front, with a common lancet, not in the

usual way—I continued to attend him down to the time of his death—the examination after death was made in a great measure under my direction—his death was occasioned by the wound—the nature of the wound was such, that I believe it utterly impossible a person could recover from—the ball had gone through the body directly, but not quite straight—it had wounded the diaphragm, which wound never heals—it always remains an open wound—in my judgment, it was certainly a mortal wound—I have never seen such a wound recover from a pistol or musket ball—a man might recover from such a wound from a spear, lance, or sword.

BRANSBY COOPER, ESQ . I attended the Late Mr. Drummond, with Mr. Guthrie—we extracted the pistol-ball together—I believe I took the ball from the wound—I believe this to be the mark I made on it the day following—I perfectly agree with Mr. Guthrie as to the nature of the wound—I have no doubt that was the cause of Mr. Drummond's death.

GEORGE WALTER SHAW (police-constable A 10.) On the 20th of Jan. I searched the lodging, No. 7, Poplar-row—the third floor back room—I found a powder-flask, five balls, and a pistol-key—they havo been in my possession ever since.

Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Where did you find them? A. In the table-drawer—there was no lock on it.

JOHN MATTHEW TIERNEY . I am inspector of police. I went to the policestation, Gardner's-lane, on Friday, the 20th of Jan.—I got there about twenty minutes past four o'clock—I saw the prisoner—I had no conversation with him at that time—I had a conversation with him that afternoon—I was in charge of the station from about five till eleven—I visited the prisoner about four or five times in the course of the evening—when I first entered the cell, I gave him a caution to say nothing to me that might pass between us to criminate himself, as it would he used in evidence against him—he then said either on that occasion, or a subsequent caution, for I cautioned him two or three times in the course of the evening—he said I acted very fairly towards him, that fair-play was the English character—I then asked him where he came from—he said, from Glasgow—he had been from there about three months—he remained seven days in Liverpool, then came up to London, and there remained up to that time—he said he was in business for himself as a turner, at Glasgow, and gave that business up, and was going into another line, but was prevented—I then said he had a good share of money—he said he had, that he wrought hard for it, that he generally did the work of three ordinary men, daily—I told him I had been in Glasgow three or four months before that, that I brought up a prisoner named Ellis, from there, who was charged for the Staffordshire riots—I said I forgot the name of the vessel I went over in from Liverpool, but thought it was the British Queen—he said it must have been the Princess Royal—I then recollected that that roust have been the name of the vessel—I asked him if he knew a Mr. Richardson, who was superintendent of the Gorbals police—he said he did not, intimately, bat that he was accounted a more clever man than Miller, alluding to another superintendent—I asked him if that was the vessel he came over in—he said no, it was the "Fire King"—I asked him if there was a railway from Glasgow to Edinburgh—he said there was, as well as I recollect—he said they were thirty or thirty-four miles asunder, and told me the fares of the different classes, the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd—I think he said 6s. was the 2nd class fare, as well as I can recollect—one thing I forgot before the Magistrate, which I will mention here—I told him, as I was going to Glasgow, I went on shore at Greenock—I went by railway from Greenock to Glasgow, that I went through Paisley, and described the situation of the

town to him—I asked him if he had everbeen at Paisley—he replied he had—I remarked to him that it was a great place for plaid-shawls—he said it was—they were nearly all weavers, and a great many out of employment—I then asked him if he would take some food—he said he would, some coffee, which was supplied to him—in the course of conversation, I asked him whether the name of Drummond was a Scotch name—he said it was—it was the family-name of the Earl of Perth, but the title died away—this conversation was the substance of the four or live visits I made to the cell during that evening—I cannot recollect every thing—I called at the station at a quarter before eight next morning—we always leave the station at half-past nine—I went and asked him if he had had his breakfast—he said he had, and asked me what o'clock it was—I told him a quarter past nine—it had just struck—he asked me if I would allow him to have some water to wash with—I consented, and sent the constable, who was locked up with him during the night for some water, and when the constable left the cell, I remarked to him, "I suppose you will assign some reason this morning to the Magistrate for the act you have committed?"—he said he would, a short one—I said, "For that matter, you might have stated anything you chose last night after the caution I have given you"—he then said he was the object of a persecution by the Tories, or Tory persecution, or something of that sort—that they followed him from place to place with their persecution—he seemed inclined to go on—I said, (merely to turn the conversation, I did not want to hear the confession,) "I suppose you are aware of the gentleman you have shot at?"—he said, "It is Sir Robert Peel, is not it?"—I said, for the moment, "No," and then retracted, and said, "We don't exactly know who it is yet, but recollect the caution I gave you last night, not to say anything that might be used in evidence against you"—he replied, "But you won't use this against me?"—I said, "I will make no promise, I gave you a caution"—I then left the cell—I took him up to Bow-street.

Cross-examined by MR. COCKBURN. Q. Is it part of your duty to visit the prisoner in his cell? A. Yes—if I put interrogatories to the prisoners under my care as long as I do not interfere with the case in point I do not see any harm in it—I was not directed by any one to put questions to this man—when I visited him I had my uniform on—I cautioned him more than once not to say anything that might criminate himself—my object was because I did not wish to hear anything from him that might criminate himself—I put the question to him because I wanted to get some information relative to the man himself, his former life, not to make use of in the course of any investigation that might take place—I had no intention of bringing this forward as evidence, until he mentioned the name of Sir Robert Peel—I do not say that if he had conveyed information to me, which immediately referred to the act he had done, that I should have suppressed it—if he said anything to me relating to the case voluntarily, I should have made use of it.

Q. What was your motive in wanting to get information relative to his past life? A. I suppose nothing but the anxiety of human nature to know, under such revolting circumstances, who and what the man was—I cannot give a verbatim account of the whole conversation—the first conversation was the caution and where he came from—I cannot give the whole conversation—I do not know where the first conversation stopped, or how far it extended—I was four or five minutes in the cell—it was about six o'clock—I went back in about an hour—it is my duty to visit the cells every hour—the prisoner was not alone—there was a constable with him named Edwards—he is not here—he heard the conversation—I visited him the second time about seven—I cannot tell exactly what passed at the second

visit—never intending to have it brought forward I made no notes—I noted down the subject of the morning's conversation five minute after—I mentioned the evening's conversation next morning to Mr. Hall at Bow-street—they were then quite fresh in my recollection—I cannot give the substance of either conversation—if I had any notion of coming here I should have taken more notice—I went next morning at a quarter after nine—I was there about three minutes before the constable went to get the water—he was absent six or seven minutes—the conversation passed in the absence of the constable—I knew the constable was coming back—I should have been very glad for the constable to have beard the conversation—our time to leave was a quarter past nine, and he had to wash—I had no motive for not waiting till he returned.

Q. Do you mean you had no motive for asking him whether he wanted to make a statement to the Magistrate? A. I will tell you my motive—I wished him to understand that I was quite at liberty to hear anything he wished to say voluntarily—I thought the responsibility was removed from my shoulders after giving him the caution the night before—I could have waited till he went before the Magistrate, but men's minds very soon change—he said he had a statement to make and a short one—I said he might if he had thought proper have said anything he pleased the night before.

Q. You said for the matter of that, &c., with a view to induce him to make a statement? A. I do not know—my object was to let him know I was there to hear anything he had to say.

Q. Was it not to lead him to make the statement to you that he had to make to the Magistrate? A. If he thought proper—I first mentioned this conversation next morning, the 21st, to Mr. Burnaby the clerk, at Bow-street, and afterwards to Mr. Hall—I mentioned it to Mr. Burnaby immediately I got into the Court, and to Mr. Hall after the case was heard—I rather suspect Mr. Hall was aware of it before the case was heard—I made a deposition at the next examination—I am not aware why I was not examined at the first hearing—I was in Court, and I was at the Coroner's Inquest—I did not state it at the inquest—I believe I mentioned it to the commissioners of police—I am not sure of it—I think I mentioned it to Colonel Rowan—I made a private report—I sent it into our office—it was written—I said to the prisoner, "You are aware of the gentleman you have shot at"—that was very thoughtlessly put—it was merely to turn the conversation—I thought he was going to make a regular statement of the whole affair, and I did not wish to hear it—it was inadvertently put—I did not think it prudent to tell him who it was—I thought it more proper to keep the thing quiet.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. You were examined before the Magistrate on the 28th? A. Yes—I gave a statement before them of what passed between me and the prisoner. I was present when the prisoner was asked what he had to say by Mr. Hall, at Bow-street—I heard the statement he made—it was read over to him afterwards, and I saw him sign it—this is the statement he made on the 21st—it is the exact words—(read)—"The prisoner after being cautioned as to his statement, says, 'The Tories in my native city have driven me to this, and have followed me to France, Scotland, and other parts; I can get no sleep from the system they pursue towards me; I believe I am driven into a consumption by them; they wish to murder me. That is all I wish to say at present; they have completely disordered me, and I am quite a different man before they commenced this annoyance towards me.' "

EDWARD HOWE . I am office-keeper at the Board of Trade, Whitehall. I was so in Jan. last—I am perfectly acquainted with the prisoner's face—I first saw him about a fortnight before the 20th of Jan., at the top of the steps of the Privy

Council office, at the corner of Downing-street—(Sir Robert Peel lives in Privy Gardens, about 300 yards from the Privy Council office—you cross White-hall, leave the Duke of Buccleugh's on the left, that brings you to Downing-street—Sir Robert Peel does not occupy the Treasury house, but transacts business in Downing-street)—I had no conversation with the prisoner then—I saw him after that almost daily, either standing on the steps or passing towards the Treasury and Charing cross—I saw him a great many times—more than once on each particular day—I saw him on the 20th—I saw him twice one day, when I was passing, on the Privy Council office steps—I saw him on the steps on the 20th, between three and four o'clock, about half an hour before this happened—I went up to him, and said, "You will excuse my taking the liberty, hut I belong to the office next door; you are a police-officer, are you not?"—he stepped forward to me, and said, "Yes"—I said, "I suppose, then, it is all right"—he did not say a word more—I left him standing on the steps—that was about half-past three o'clock—I went to Gardner's-lane the same day, and saw him in custody.

JAMES PARTRIDGE . I am a policeman. For some time before the 20th of Jan. I was on duty in Whitehall on occasions—I had seen the prisoner five or six times—my attention was first drawn to him, I think, about the 5th of Jan.—I had seen him near the Council office on several occasions, and on the 13th I saw him on the Council office steps—I went up to him, seeing him standing there, and having seen him once or twice before—I asked him if he was waiting for anybody—he told me he was waiting to see a gentleman, and at the same time he walked away from me towards the Horse Guards—I saw no more of him that day—I saw him, I should say, twice between then and the 20th—I saw him on the 20th—I was on duty there—he was on the last step of the Council office about half-past ten o'clock—I went on duty at ten, and he arrived there about twenty minutes after—I saw him there it may be from twenty minutes to half an hour before I spoke to him—I am not certain he remained there during all that time—I passed him two or three times, and looked at him—I then went up to him, and asked him if he had seen the gentleman he had told me he was waiting for—I did not mention the date—his answer was "No," or something to that effect—he spoke quick, and walked away from me directly—he did not seem inclined to answer any question I put to him—I saw him again two or three times, in the course of the day—I saw him about a quarter after twelve o'clock, down against Lady Dover's, eating some bread—Lady Dover's is between the Home Office and the Horse Guards—the Home Office chambers are between them—Sir Robert Peel's bouse is behind—you cannot see it from Lady Dover's—Gwydyr-house is between them.

RICHARD JONES . I am sergeant of the 10th Hussars. I have been on the recruiting service in London, and am in the habit of being about Whitehall, Downing-street, and that part of the town—I remember Mr. Drummond being shot—about ten or twelve days before that, or from that to fourteen, I saw the prisoner there—I had seen him frequently by the Horse Guards, from there to Downing-street, and between there and Charing-cross, walking about—I saw him on several different days—I have spoken to him—I asked him to join her Majesty's service, and intended to enlist him as a recruit—I asked him if he had any intention of joining the army—he replied he had something better in view, on the first occasion of my speaking to him—I saw him afterwards, standing with his back against the gate of the Horse Guards, in the centre—I said, "Halloo, what, here again! is there any particular regiment you would wish to join?"—he said he had no wish to join the service, he was merely waiting for a gentleman—this might have been five or six days before Mr. Drummond was shot—on the 20th of Jan. I saw him, about fifteen or twenty

yards from the Privy Council steps, in Whitehall—it was a little after one o'clock—I was in company with a recruiting sergeant, who made an observation to me, in consequence of which I pointed him out to one of the police—I saw him afterwards in custody.

WILLIAM BALE . I am a sergeant in the 2nd Dragoon Guards. I was about Whitehall and the neighbourhood some days before the 20th of Jan.—I first saw the prisoner there between ten and twelve days, I should say, before this occurrence—I saw him loitering about Downing-street and the Privy Council steps, and the Home Office, backwards and forwards, loitering against the palings, standing about, and walking—sometimes he crossed the road, and went to the entrance of the Duke of Buccleugh's, in Privy-gardens, pass Sir Robert Peel's house, and come on again by the chapel at Whitehall, and return to the same place—I cannot say whether I had seen him do that more than once in one day, but I have seen him do it on two or three occasions—I asked him to enlist—I will not say three times—twice I did—he declined, and said he had no intention of enlisting or joining the army—he said he was merely waiting to see a gentleman.

JOHN DRAKE . I am a policeman. I have been stationed at Whitehall and Downing-street since Dec. last—I have noticed the prisoner about there since the 3rd or 4th of Jan. up to the 19th very frequently, except on Sundays—I have generally seen him near the corner of Downing-street standing on the steps of the Council-office door, or walking in Whitehall, and sometimes in Downing-street—on Wednesday, the 18th of Jan., I went on the steps, and said to him, "Some of the gentlemen inside have been speaking to me about your standing on the steps; they don't appear to like your standing here"—he said, "Tell them it is a notion I have taken"—I said, "If you are waiting for any one you had better wait on the pavement, as they don't appear to like your standing on these steps unless they know your business"—he said, "You can tell them their property is quite safe"—on the same day I spoke to him again, not on the steps, but at the corner of Downing-street—he came and asked me if I would take a glass of ale—I declined it—he then asked me if I would take gin—that I also declined, and left him for that day—I saw him again on the following day, about a quarter to five o'clock in the afternoon, at the corner of Downing-street—he then asked me if I would have something to drink now—I said, "No, thank you"—he said, "Why won't you?"—I said, "If any of our people see me I shall get into trouble"—I then parted from him, and did not see him again till I saw him at the police-station next day.

ELIZA DUTTON . I live at No. 7, Poplar-row, Newington. I know the prisoner—he lodged at my house some time—he first came to lodge there about July twelvemonth—I had at that time a bill up in my house for a room to let, a back attic—he took it—he came alone—he was to pay half-a-crown a week—he said it would suit him very well—that was all he said, and he came in the evening—there was no sitting-room, only one bed-room—he came to live there that same day—he remained with me I think nearly three months, but I cannot be certain—I did not take particular notice—he slept there every night—he used to go out at half-past eight or nine o'clock, sometimes a little later, never after ten—he did not breakfast in the house—he went out to breakfast—he took all his meals out of the house—he used to come home in the evening about the same time—I gave him washing out for him—he always paid me when he paid his rent—he always settled with me every week—he never required an account of his washing—I always told him what he had to pay—that was done regularly all the time he was living with me—he came back in about three weeks, and stopped I think,

for about three weeks—I think he mentioned he had been to France—I did not observe any difference in his manner at that time—I cannot say I ever observed anything to make me think he was not right in his mind—I never had any idea of anything of the sort—I never had any reason to judge so—he remained with me the second time about three weeks—he returned the latter end of last September—I do not recollect the month he went away—he was away I think twelve months before he returned in September—I cannot say exactly what time he left—he had the same room—during the time he stayed with me he was ill a fortnight—he was in bed part of the time the last time he was there—he was not confined to his bed a fortnight—he was up some days—this was in the beginning of Dec.—I knew he was poorly then—I fetched him some coffee for breakfast from the coffee-house while he was ill—I never did anything for him in the house—he had a little barley water twice I think—I poured some boiling water on some barley which he brought in—he asked me to do it—he had no medical man attending him—he said he had got a bad cold from being out in the wet—I did not ask him to have any medical attendance—he afterwards got well, the same as he had been before—I had no conversation with him about his going home, or about his friends—I never had any conversation with him about anything—I remember the occurrence of Mr. Drummond being shot—the prisoner bad slept at home that night—he went out about eight o'clock—I spoke to him that morning—I merely asked him if he had got his brushes for his boots—he said he had got them—I gave him the clothes brush, but he did not use it—about a quarter to ten o'clock, I think, he went up to his room, but was not two minutes there—he came down again, went out, and I saw nothing more of him that day—I did not observe anything particular in his appearance and manner that morning—when he came back to me in Sept. last, he said he had been to Scotland—it was the time the Queen had been there, and I asked him if he had seen the Queen—he said he had not, for he was not in that part—I asked him if he thought the Queen's visit had done trade good—he said he thought it had—at the time he was ill he said his head was very bad—he appeared to have a great deal of fever—after that he appeared to me to get well—he came in of an evening the same as he did the first time—I never knew him to stop out—he used to come in between eight and nine o'clock—that continued all the time he was with me—he was very regular going out and coming in—I slept in the front room on the same floor as he did—I always let him in and gave him his candle, when he went to bed.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did he appear to you to be a man of very sober habits? A. He was very—I never saw him otherwise—I thought he was a particularly sober man—I always thought he was rather reserved in his manner—he was a man that avoided conversation with people—he never appeared to wish to join in conversation—I never saw any companion of his during the whole time he was with me—I never saw him with a creature—not one—on the morning in question he came in about half-past ten o'clock, ran up stairs, and went out again—he had done that once or twice before.

Q. When he was ill, was it from your observing the state he was in that you spoke to him, or did be begin the conversation with you? A. He spoke to me—he knocked at my bed-room door, and asked if I would get him some coffee from the coffee-house—my bed-room was near his—it was the front room, and his was the back room on the same floor—I observed that his head seemed to be bad, and that he seemed to have much fever that week—the conversation about Scotland began I believe by my saying something respecting Scotland, and he said he had been there—I asked if he was there when the

Queen was there—he said he was there, but not in that part—I said, "Has it done trade good?"—he said he believed it had—that was all—he did not join in conversation—never anything more than you asked him.

Q. Was he in the habit of looking people in the face, or did he always hang his head down when asked a question? A. Rather down—he answered shortly and quickly, as though he wished to get rid of a question—as far as I could judge I should say his habits were very penurious—he had only a change of linen, a change of flannel, and a change of socks in the house—I had no conception of his having anything like 700l. by him—when he appeared to have the fever his face was flushed, and it looked very pale when the fever had gone off him—he said he was very weak—the barley water I made him was from some barley which he brought home in his pocket—his illness was I think at the latter end of Nov., or the beginning of Dec.—nobody ever called on him—when he came home at night he would have his candle and go to bed directly—he had no sitting-room—he never had a fire—as far as I had the opportunity of observing, his habits appeared sullen and reserved—I had five other lodgers besides him—I generally let all my house out—(I make my living by it)—to families or single gentlemen—I have heard him get out of bed several times of a night—I have sometimes heard him moan and groan in the night, once or twice—nothing more I believe—I did not notice it—I was not aware of anything peculiar about him—I never heard him pace up and down the room of a night—I have known him get up in the night and smoke a pipe—I could smell tobacco or I should not have known it—I was under the impression that he was out of a situation, and had very little means, and I attributed his sullenness, and unwillingness to enter into conversation to a difficulty of getting a situation.

MR. SOLICITOR GENETRAL . Q. Nobody came to your house to visit him? A. Never—he was very little at home in the day-time—he used to come in by chance at times, but not to stop—he was generally out all day—the families of the other lodgers live in the house—they took their meals in the house—he kept his things in three table drawers, but no drawer that locked—his room was never locked—I was not aware of his having pistols, or a powder flask, or bullets—I saw the police officers find the pistols, bullets, and flask—they were in the table drawer—I was not aware of that before—I heard him get out of bed since his illness, and a little before—I heard that for two or three weeks now and then—I have heard him moan two or three times in the night about that time—when he was in health he generally slept pretty well—I believe the time I refer to was about the time of his illness—I never knew him smoke until about the time of his illness—the barley from which I made the barley water he brought in from the shop I suppose—he brought it in in his hand when he came in, when he was getting better, and asked me to pour boiling water on it, which I did—he got well again—he looked a great deal better, but did not look so well as when he first came to me—during the latter part of Dec., and early in Jan. he used to go out every morning, and came home at night just the same as usual, and he continued to do so down to the time he was taken in custody.

COURT. Q. When he came to you at first did he bring no box with him? A. He brought a portmanteau with him the first time—he did not the last time—that was kept in his bed-room—I never tried to see whether it was locked or not—he brought it on the second occasion, and took it away with him—he did not bring it back the third time—on the third occasion he had nothing about him, but what was about his person—the change of linen and flannel I should say he must have brought in his pocket—he had no books, I gave him one when he was ill, as he asked me—it was a religious book—extracts

from the Bible—he asked me for it—he went out on Sundays just the same as other days.

WILLIAM HENRY STEVENSON, ESQ . I am private secretary to Sir Robert Peel. I knew the late Mr. Edward Drummond perfectly well—he was also private secretary to Sir Robert Peel, and had official apartments in Sir Robert Peel's residence, in Downing-street, where he transacted his business—that is the official house of the Prime Minister—Sir Robert Peel was also in the habit of transacting business in the house constantly—it is very near the top of Downing-street—coming from Sir Robert Peel's house, past the Duke of Buccleugh's, and by the Privy Council steps, you get to the house—Mr. Drummond was very frequently in the habit of going to and fro from the house in Downing-street, to Sir Robert Peel's private house—Sir Robert Peel himself is also in the habit of doing so very frequently—there is a way through the Treasury, but coming through the street, you must pass the Privy Council steps.

ROBERT GORDON . I am a brass-founder, and live at Glasgow. I have known the prisoner about six years—I do not know where he lodged when I first knew him, but he worked in the same close as I did, as a wood turner—he was then carrying on business for himself—I was manager for Messrs. Laing and Son—they used to employ the prisoner—I frequently saw him on their business—his shop was in Stockwell-street—I afterwards had business with him on my own account and employed him till he gave up business, which is about a year and a half ago—I do not recollect the precise time—he was a very industrious man—I was not acquainted with him otherwise than by employing him—I frequently saw him on business, perhaps twice or thrice a week—not during the whole of that time, but at times—when I was in business for myself, I paid him money, and got his receipts—I cannot say that I observed anything remarkable about his manner on any of those occasions—I came to London in Nov. last—I did not know that the prisoner was then in London till I met him in St. Martin's-lane—it must have been about the end of Nov.—I cannot be certain as to the exact time—it was, I think, between ten and twelve in the forenoon—I was very much surprised to see him, shook hands with him, asked him how he did, and what he did up here—he asked me what I was wanting here—I told him I was in search of employment—he said he was in search of employment also—I told him I was going to Mr. Hedges in Great Peter-street, Westminster—we walked along together, and went down past the Horse Guards, on the opposite side of the way—we went down Parliament-street, and then into Westminster-hall—on our way there we passed Sir Robert Peel's house—I mentioned to the prisoner that that was where Sir Robert Peel stopped as I understood—he said, "D—n him," or "Sink him," or some such name—I cannot be certain of the expression—it was some oath—as we passed the Treasury, he stopped, desired me to look across the street, and said, "There is where all the treasure or the wealth of the world is," or something like that—we then went into Westminster Hall—we did not stop there above five minutes—we went to look at Westminster Abbey—he made a remark upon that—I cannot remember the precise words, but it was something like this, "You see how time has affected that massive building," or something like that—we then went on to Great Peter-street, where I was going to inquire for work—he staid some time for me, but when I came out of Mr. Hedge's he was gone—I saw no more of him that day—this was on a Monday—I saw him again on the Friday evening following at Mr. Hedge's—he came to see me there—I had gone there to work—he came at the dropping time, I believe about seven o'clock, the time we left off work—we walked away together—we came back to Great Peter-street, across Westminster

bridge, and went into a public-house at the end of the bridge, on the Surrey side—we sat down together, and had two quarts of porter to drink—we remained there about three quarters of an hour, as near as I can recollect—we had not a great deal of conversation—it was principally upon Glasgow that we were talking—we are both Glasgow men—I told him I had been seeing the British Museum and the Picture Gallery—I am not certain whether he made any remark on that or not—he said he was in search of employment, and that he had inquired at a shop in Great Peter-street, after leaving me on the Monday, and they could not employ him—it was a turner's shop—he said the London turners were a century behind in their way of working, and that if he had them in Glasgow he would learn them something—he paid for the beer we had—I wanted to pay the half of one of the quarts—he said it was no use doing that, that he was not hard up—we left the public-house together, went down Stamford-street, and parted there—I saw no more of him—I left London on the Tuesday after.

Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. How long did you know him carrying on business on his own account in Glasgow? A. I suppose some years—he appeared to me to be carrying on a prosperous business—he gave it up about a year and a half ago—I am not certain whether he gave it up suddenly—I am not certain whether he thought of giving it up before—I had heard that he had intended to give it up, probably some months before—I saw him once at Glasgow after he gave up business—I knew nothing of his private habits—as far as I could judge, he appeared a mild inoffensive person, particularly so—he was sometimes a little rough in his expressions, that is all—generally speaking, he was tranquil—his manner appeared inoffensive when I met him in St. Martin's-lane—he continued to talk to me in the usual manner until we got up to the neighbourhood of Whitehall—on my mentioning that that was Robert Peel's residence, he suddenly burst out with that oath and expression.

JOHN CALDWELL . I live at Glasgow—I know the prisoner—I first saw him, I think, in 1835—he came to me and wanted to take a workshop of me—he mentioned who he was and mentioned his father—I made some inquiry, and agreed to let him the shop—he occupied it from May, 1835, to May, 1836—during that year I frequently saw him in his shop—I never saw him any where else—I was not very often there—there was a question about his rent—I supposed it was 9l. 10s., and he thought it was 9l., and I kept him at 9l.—when he left my shop he removed to Stockwell-street—I used to see him there—I employed him in his business a little—I did not continue to see him up to the time he left Glasgow—I am not exactly certain whether it was in 1837 or 1838 that I lost sight of him—I never observed anything peculiar in his manner or his ways.

JAMES THOMPSON, ESQ . I am one of the magistrates of the town of Gorbals, near Glasgow—I am factor of the property in the street called Stockwell—I first became acquainted with the prisoner in 1838—I think in Nov. 1838 I received the first rent from him—it was for a workshop in Stockwell—he was tenant of that—I continued to receive rent from him for that shop up to the 11th Nov. 1840—Mr. Carlow succeeded him in it—the rent was 12l. a year—he paid me his rent regularly, half-yearly, at Martinmas and Whitsuntide—he used to pay it himself, on the 11th of Nov. and the 15th of May—he paid it with his own hand—I saw him again on the 19th of April, 1842—he called at my house in the evening, and said he had a demand against me—I asked what it was—he said he had paid what we call the poor-rate—the tenant pays the poor-rate, and the landlord pays half, and he said that in paying his last rent he had neglected to receive his half of the poor-rate, and he called to receive it—he produced his receipt and gave it to me—this is it—it

is for 6s. 3d.—he claimed the half of that, 3s. 1 1/2 d.—I paid it him—there is an indorsement on the back of it in his handwriting, a memorandum that I paid him half the poor-rate—that is all that passed on that occasion—I saw no difference in him on that occasion to what I did before—I never observed anything remarkable in his manner or conduct.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. You saw him twice a year? A. Yes—I had no particular reason for noticing him.

ALEXANDER MARTIN . I am a gun-maker, and live at Paisley—I have seen the prisoner in my shop—I cannot exactly recollect the time—I think it was about the month of July, last year, I will not be positive about the time, I think it was about then—he called at my shop and wanted a sight of some pistols—I showed him some, and be bought two of me—these produced are the pistols I sold him—they are not of the same size—he wished to have a pair to match, like the largest of the two—he wished me to get one to match that—I told him I could not promise to do so before three weeks—he did not take away either of the pistols that day—I told him I would attempt to get one to match it from my son—he went away and called another day, I think it was next day, but I am not quite sure—as far as I can recollect it was next day—I told him my son lived at Glasgow—when he came next day he said he would take the two pistols from me, on condition that I would give him one in exchange if he ever came back again—he paid me the money for them—I cannot be exactly positive how much he paid—I think it was 17s. altogether—I think he bought a powder-flask and some quantity of powder, and I think a few balls, but I am not quite sure of that—I cannot speak positively to this flask—we do sell flasks of this description and of this maker's, and I think I sold the prisoner a powder-flask—I think I made him some balls at the time.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. By saying you think, you are not, I presume, quite sure? A. Not perfectly sure, but rather confident I did do so.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. What is the distance of your shop from Glasgow? A. About seven miles.

WILLIAM AMBROSE . I live at Glasgow, and am a writer, what is called a solicitor here. I was secretary to the Glasgow Mechanics' Institution—I know the prisoner—I have known him since the spring of 1840—I have been in the habit of seeing him at the Glasgow Mechanics' Institution—he attended the lectures there in several classes—he had been in the habit of attending the institution several years—he attended the anatomy class on one occasion—I was in the habit of speaking to him—I knew him quite well in the spring of 1840—there was an attempt made by the persons attending to get the rules of the Institution altered—I took part in it, and the prisoner also—there were several individuals who were parties to getting up a memorial to alter the constitution, and he joined about a dozen, who took a more prominent part in getting up the memorial—he was one of them and I was one myself—the memorial was afterwards got up and signed—this is it—(looking at it)—I see my own name here and the prisoner's also—his is fifth—I partly drew it up myself, but many took part in it, eight or nine—I think he was one of them, but I am not quite sure—there was a meeting, and this is a report of the meeting—it was moved at a meeting of the parties, what we call the subsidiary classes, and the prisoner was at the meeting, if I recollect—(looking at the memorial)—I see he moved the last resolution, which was "That the following gentlemen be appointed a committee to draw up the memorial, and, embodying the resolutions, agreed to," and he was one of the committee appointed—he seconded the resolution—I was a member of that committee—I think he attended it, but I am not quite sure—it was in the

spring of 1840—the memorial will tell—there does not seem to be a date, but it was in the spring of 1840, March or April—I was in the habit of seeing him a great deal at that time—I observed nothing about him which lead me to suppose he was not in his right senses—the persons attending the lectures merely listen to them in ordinary cases, but this was a meeting to get an alteration—he was in the habit of getting books from the library—he was entitled to that privilege—I have a list of books which he had—it was made by my clerk, but I compared it—this is a list of the books which he had for two years—by attending the classes he would have the benefit of the library—I called at his place of business in Stockwell-street, about April, 1841, and saw him—I asked whether he was still a member of the Mechanics' Institution—he said he was not—I spoke to him generally about the Institution but nothing further—he spoke to me about it—I was with him a few minutes—he had a ticket for 1841 and 1842 for books—this is what we call a summer reader's ticket—it is signed by me—he did not attend the lectures during that session, but the ticket gave him the benefit of the library, after the lectures were over, until the commencement of the next session—I do not recollect seeing him after April, 1841—I did not observe any change about him then.

Cross-examined by MR. COCKBURN. Q. Where was the meeting in 1841? A. At his place of business, in Stockwell-street—as far as I recollect, it was about April or Whitsuntide, 1841—as far as I can say, he was then carrying on business in Stockwell-street—I was secretary to the institution, and am a director also—we have duties to attend to in giving out books to the members—the members take no part at the lectures, except anything special arises—I am not sure whether the resolution which the prisoner seconded was framed by the man who moved it—I helped to frame them all myself, but there were several parties concerned—I find his name in this memorial—I recollect his attending the meetings of the committee, and that meeting I know from the memorial itself, and also from recollection that he was there—I do not think he made any speech on the subject, he seconded the motion—I dare say the discussion was rather an angry one—there was one party for it, and one not.

Q. Do you recollect his bursting out into a loud fit of laughter without any cause for it? A. No—I was on the platform, I do not think he was; he was somewhere in the body of the hall, I think—as far as my recollection goes, he was in the body of the hall—I am sure I saw him there—I do not recollect where he stood—I am not aware that he was in a corner by himself.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Have you a distinct recollection of his taking a part in the alteration of the rules? A. I have a distinct recollection of that, but as to the place in the hall which he sat at I am not so sure.

WILLIAM SWANSTON . I reside in Glasgow; I am curator of the Mechanics' Institution at Glasgow, and have been so since 1831 or 1832. I have seen the prisoner coming to the institution, and got acquainted with him there—I cannot exactly say when he first became a student of the institution, but I think I have seen him there in 1834 and 1835—his name appears in the book in 1838 and 1839—I have seen one entry since that—he attended Dr. Wood's lectures on popular anatomy and physiology during the session of 1838 and 1839—he had books from the library during that year—he attended lectures during 1839 and 1840, Mr. Mackey's class on natural philosophy, and he had books during the session of 1839 and 1840—I am the librarian—I

think he had thirty-six volumes during that year—he then ceased to come to the institution for some time—the next time I saw him was in May, 1842—the last books were sent to him on the 16th of September, 1842—I had occasion to meet him frequently in the library, and frequently conversed with him—we always had a few words of conversation when he called for his books—it was principally connected with the books he wanted, or about the affairs of the institution—I remember the movement in the classes in the session of 1839 and 1840—I gave the memorial, which has been produced, to Mr. Longman, of Glasgow—I have not seen it since—this is the memorial which was presented on that occasion—I did not attend the meeting of the sub-committee that drew up the resolutions—I attended the meeting of the committee of the directors of the Institution—I have seen the prisoner attending the meeting of the sub-committee—I was there sometimes, but not stopping any time—I have seen him attending the sub-committee that drew up this memorial—I have seen him going in—I have been in the room, and seen him there—I have heard him speak—I heard him speak in the discussion about this memorial—he spoke tolerably fair, he made as respectable an appearance as any others there, and spoke as sensibly—during the years of 1839 and 1840 I never observed anything remarkable either in his appearance or manner, I saw nothing different from others—during 1842 he was going rather better dressed in clothes, cleaner than he was before—his manner and conversation was not much changed, I did not remark any change in particular—he used to come frequently for books in 1842, I used to converse with him, we always had a few words of conversation—I was there regularly as librarian—he got books two or three times when I was not there, at least they are not in my handwriting—he had thirty-five volumes during the summer of 1842—if a person wished a book to be renewed he always paid 1d.—I always demanded that payment of the prisoner on his renewals in the summer of 1842, and he demurred to paying.

Q. Had he any particular acquaintances or friends that you know of? A. Yes, he had William M'Lellan, who knew him long, and Colin Graham, and there was a Mr. Knockells, of Glasgow, a member of the Socialist society—I cannot say which of those I have seen him with the most frequently—I know they were talking frequently, I have seen them shaking hands and talking together in the Institution and in the street—in our conversations we have had short references to the passing politics of the day, but we have not had much; we have talked a little on politics together—he would express himself pretty strongly on politics—I do not recollect what he said.

COURT. Q. Do you recollect what his opinions were, generally? A. I never heard him state anything as his own opinion.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. What have you heard him state? A. I have heard him express himself in favour of the extension of the suffrage, but I never heard him express any definite point at which he would wish to rest.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. You knew where he lived? A. I did not know where he lived till he gave me his address—I never was in his lodging, and never took a meal with him in my life—I never went to a public-house to take a glass of beer with him—I knew he was very penurious—I was not before the Sheriff substitute—I was before Mr. S—.

Q. When you saw him in 1842, did you see a marked difference in his countenance, and particularly a marked change about his eyes? A. No, I saw nothing, except about his dress, and his cleanliness in habits—I recollect on one occasion when I wanted payment of a penny from him, which he wanted not to give, and I insisted on it, he gave me a stare with his eyes, which made them appear fuller and glaring, more than usual, but that is the

only time that I recollect anything of the kind—I have stated that I noticed in the summer of 1842, a change in the expression of his countenance, particularly about his eyes—I have seen him with M'Lellan, about the institution, for a few minutes, talking, at the desk in the library, in the street, and sometimes in the room—I have seen him in the street in company with M'Lellan, shaking hands as he met him—I cannot say how many times, more than once, I think, but more than that I cannot say—I have seen him with Colin Graham about the institution, and in the street—I cannot say how often I have seen him with him—I have seen them more than four times talking together—they were often together, about the time the memorial was drawn up, standing talking together, and walking together, sometimes I put them into a small room on the stairs, when I opened it for half-an-hour or an hour—I do not know what they have been saying—I did not hearken—this was at the time this memorial was being drawn up, and since then at different times—I have never had an opportunity of seeing them together long enough to know what they were talking about, or whether they were intimate or not—Graham is not here—I saw him last week in Glasgow—I told the gentleman who examined me about a fortnight ago, what I have stated about M'Lellan and Graham—I think I saw Graham on Thursday or Friday last in Glasgow—I have not seen Knockolls this long time—I saw him, I think, once in the street during last summer, or else during the autumn—I had not seen him for a long time before that—I cannot say whether six months or a year before—I cannot say how often I have seen the prisoner in company with Knockolls—I cannot say whether it was twice or six times—I did not hear what passed between them on those occasions—I might have heard it, perhaps—I do not recollect it now—that is all I know about his acquaintances—I know his father—I left him in Glasgow last week—I do not know that he is here—Knockolls was a member of out institution—the prisoner was not a member—he was one of the off-classes—as curator of the institution I had no right to interfere in the discussion respecting the memorial—I did not interfere in anything not belonging to my own department—I did not see him burst out laughing in the midst of the meeting, in the midst of some person speaking—I can swear that I did not see it—I have heard it said lately by Colin Graham, that such a thing was, but I do not know it—Colin Graham told me so within these few weeks, that is the Colin Graham that is not here.

WILLIAM M'LELLAN . I am a blacksmith, and live at Glasgow. I have known the prisoner sixteen or seventeen years—he might be fifteen years of age when I first knew him—he was then working with his father—for five years after that I saw him almost every working-day—after that five years I saw him occasionally, just, perhaps, once or twice a-week, sometimes less, sometimes more, up to last summer, when I saw him about once a fortnight, I think—we used to attend the same classes together at the Mechanics' Institution—I have been a member of the institution these ten years past—he has attended, as far as I can recollect, three or four years—during the whole time I have known him, I cannot say I have observed anything peculiar in his manner or habits.

Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. When did you see him last? A. In Aug., 1842—I did not then observe something about him which I had not noticed before—he was more clean than usual—there might be a slight tinge of paleness about his countenance—when I saw him in Aug., 1842, I noticed that he was paler than usual—I also noticed that he had acquired a habit of knitting his brow occasionally, which I had not observed before—once or twice before he gave up business I saw that he had acquired a habit

of rolling his eye when he called at the library—I did not observe that in Aug., 1842, at the time I observed he was paler than formerly—I was examined at Glasgow.

Q. Have you not said, that in the summer of 1842, at the time that he was paler than usual, there was also a knitting of the brows, and a rolling of his eyes, which was not observable formerly? A. That was previous to his giving up business that I state that, when he was in his working dress—I cannot give the year—I cannot tell exactly in what year he gave up business, perhaps it might be about two years ago—I did not notice those circumstances last year—I noticed his being paler, the knitting of his brow, and the rolling of his eye, previous to the summer of 1842, previous to his giving up business, when he came in his working clothes—I noticed at that time that his eye had become more prominent—he was of very calm manner whenever I saw him, and of an inoffensive disposition—I never was in his house in my life—I know of no companion or friend he had—I had known him, I think, since he was about fifteen—so far as I saw, he was of a very reserved disposition—when I saw him once or twice a week, I wrought in the same neighbourhood with him—he was down in my workshop, getting small jobs there—he did not work in the same workshop—he occasionally came to the same workshop, to get some small jobs done—that was all the opportunity I had of knowing him.

DR. JAMES DOUGLAS . I am a surgeon at Glasgow, and am lecturer on anatomy there. I am in the habit of giving a course of lectures in the winter, from Nov. till May; and again in the summer, till the end of July—I know the prisoner—I recognise him as having been a student of mine in the summer of 1842, when he attended my lectures on anatomy—I had an opportunity of speaking to him almost every day—I merely spoke to him on the subject of anatomy—he spoke to me also on the subject—he appeared to understand the subject he was attending to—I had scarcely any opportunity of judging whether he made any proficiency in his studies, for he did not attend the examination of the classes; but he attended the lectures regularly, and generally spent an hour in the dissecting room daily, under my direction, reading descriptive anatomy, comparing it with the skeletons, and with the dissections on the tables—I examined the students every Saturday, but it was not compulsory for students to attend—some attended, and some not—I frequently talked with him in the dissecting-room about what was going on there—he appeared to me to understand what he was about—in the course of my lectures I give a description of the body, from the beginning to the end; and in the dissecting-room I explain particularly to them what they are studying there, what they hold in their hands, and what is before them, in the way I consider that they are familiar with—that is in addition to the public lectures—I have done that to the prisoner—I observed nothing about him, or in the conversations that I had with him, to lead me to suppose that his mind was not right—he attended my lectures regularly—they are five days in the week—this card was given by me to him—it is a certificate of his having attended the lectures—this is my signature—students keep this until their studies are terminated, as a proof of their having gone through their studies—they keep them till they apply for their diplomas—I had not seen him, before this occurred, since the last day of July, when he applied—I saw him in prison on Monday last, when I was in London—I spoke to him—he knew me—I can hardly say what I said to him—I think I said I was surprised to see him there, or something to that effect—he made no answer, except a monosyllable—I forget what he said—he made no definite answer.

Cross-examined by MR. COCKBURN. Q. By whose directions did you go to the prison to see him? A. Mr. Maule's—I do not know whether any notice

was given to the prisoner's attorney or friends—I merely went for the purpose of identifying him—my attention was not directed at all to the state of his mind in the prison—he came, like any body else, to attend my lectures—I have seen him in the dissecting-room perhaps thirty or forty times—I cannot say positively—I conversed with him, and explained to him what he was reading—we never had any conversation on any other subject—I saw him comparing the work he was reading with some skeletons—I explained to him the nature of the subject matter of the inquiry—he merely listened, he did not take part in the conversation—I had no opportunity of judging whether he was deriving any benefit from the instructions I was giving him, except from observation—he was very regular and attentive—he did not attend the examination—he said that his want of education prevented his understanding and pronouncing the Latin and Greek names—that was the excuse he gave to the students—he did not say so to me—I never observed any thing peculiar about him, except what I suppose arose from his being a man of no education, perhaps a little want of polish in his manners—he was not abrupt in his manners—he appeared to understand what I said to him, in pointing out those things to him in the dissecting-room—I had no opportunity beyond that of forming an opinion of him, one way or the other.

JOSEPH FORRESTER . I am a hair-dresser, and live at Glasgow. I have known the prisoner about sixteen or eighteen months—before he left Glasgow he was living in Plagg-street, at a Mrs. Patterson's—I have been in the habit of visiting him frequently there, I used to goon the afternoon of Sunday occasionally—we did not drink when I went there—we just sat and talked—I smoked once with him—we generally talked about the ordinary occurrences of the day—I very often found him reading—he never talked about the books he had been reading—I never saw anything about him that made me suppose he was at all wrong in his intellect—I never once thought of it—I do not know exactly when he left Glasgow—I missed him about August or September last—I frequently visited him up to that time, but not regularly—I used to stay with him about half an hour or an hour, never more than two hours.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. What are you? A. A hair-dresser—I live in Clyde-street—I never once thought of anything at all being wrong about him—I swear that—I did not pay particular attention to see whether there was or not—I never thought or suspected anything of the kind—I know Wilson, the baker, in Clyde-street—I am well acquainted with Mrs. Patterson—I never said to her at any time that it would be a pleasant thing to come here as a witness—I do not know how the attorney for the prosecution found me out—I cannot imagine—the captain of the Anderston police came to me—I cannot say exactly when or what month it was—I do not think it is two months ago—I am sure it was before Christmas—I cannot be positive—I think it was about two months ago—it was after the death of Mr. Drummond—Christmas was before the death of Mr. Drummoad—the captain asked me if I knew anything about the prisoner—I said I knew him quite well—he said, "Perhaps you will have something to say on that, how did you know him?"—I said by lodging at Mrs. Patterson's, that I saw him there, and conversed with him, and that was the only way I knew him—I was in the habit of seeing Mrs. Patterson—on account of her husband being away I went frequently up there—I cannot say any more that the captain said to me then—at our next conversation he gave me a note, and said I was to call on Mr. Loman, a writer, in Glasgow, what is called an attorney here, who wished to see me—I cannot recollect how soon that was after the first conversation—my recollection is always clear—I dine regularly about two o'clock—I have never offered myself as a witness to anybody else—on my oath I never told Mrs. Patterson that I was desirous of coming forward

on the part of the prisoner, or words to that effect—I never talked to Wilson, the baker, in Clyde-street, on the subject of coming for the prisoner—I never said such a thing in my life as that M'Naughten was a daft man—I deny it—I have been to Mrs. Patterson's since he has been in custody—I only just went up to see her one night after dinner and crack with her about him, and to hear what she had to say about it—she described backward and forwards of it, and said she wondered that I thought he was right, for she said that I had said he was wrong at one time—I denied ever having said so—she said that I did say so—I said, "I never did, when did I say so?"—she said, "You said it one night, and that you were ready to go the Procurator Fiscal's office with me if I liked"—I denied all that—she said I was tipsy at the time I said that—I have dined to-day at the Pitt's Head over the way—I have had no spirits—I had a tumbler of ale—I have had more than one tumbler—I had a tumbler before dinner, and a pot of porter—all I have had to drink to-day has been a share of a pint of porter, one with the cold air taken off, and a tumbler of ale at dinner, I should say two—I swear that is all the drink I have had to-day, both before and after dinner—I told you just now I had a pint of ale between two—I mean to represent myself as being perfectly sober.

LACHLAN M'GILLAVERY . I have known the prisoner about fifteen years—I believe these two letters—(looking at two)—to be his handwriting—I have not seen him at all of late years—I last saw him before this occurrence about nine months ago—I met him in Argyle-street, Glasgow—I had not seen him before that I think for two years or better—I had no conversation with him—I was hurried and was carrying a portmanteau at the time—I had no talk with him—I rather got out of the way because I was hurried.

ROBERT SWANSBORO . I am clerk to the London Joint Stock Bank. These deposit receipts were both given by me—one is dated on the 9th of Aug., 1841, for 750l.—I gave the other on the 28th of the same month—I recollect giving it—I believe on the 9th of Aug., the same day as the prisoner deposited the money, he called again, and required 5l. on account, which I refused—the money was deposited subject to seven days' notice of withdrawal—I think it was the same day he called, because in my diary I find I had to pay him 760l. on the 15th of the same month—I refused to give him the 5l., telling him that it was not our mode, to have a deposit account converted into a drawing account, but I would give him the whole if he pleased—I put it down for payment on the 16th, but he did not call till the 28th—I made a cheque out for him on the 16th—I then paid him back the 750l., and he then re-deposited 745l., thereby obtaining his 5l.—I then gave him the second deposit receipt—I have the counterparts of these which he signed at the time he deposited the money—these two contain his signatures.

LACHLAN M'GILLAVERY re-examined. These signatures are the prisoner's writing.

ROBERT SWANSBORO re-examined. These names are signed at the time we give the deposit receipt, so they would be signed on the 9th and 28th of Aug.—having put the last deposit receipt in, we afterwards received this letter from him (produced) on the 25th of May, in the following year, 1842—we wrote to him the same night by post, saying we should require him to send us up the receipt—we ultimately paid the money to Glynn and Co., on the 1st of June—(letter read)—"Glasgow, 23rd May, 1842.—Sir,—I hereby intimate to you that I will require the money ten days from this date, which I deposited in the London Joint Stock Bank through you, the amount is 745l.; the account is dated, 28th of Aug., 1841, but with no number—as it would put me to some inconvenience to give personal intimation, and then

remain in London till the eight day's notice will expire, I trust this will be sufficient. Yours &c., D. M'Naughten."

WILLIAM THOMAS . I am a clerk in the house of Messrs. Glynn and Co. The Glasgow Shipping Bank are correspondents of ours in the country—I paid a draft of 20l. to the prisoner, on the 29th of Nov., 1842, here in London—I did not take a receipt on the back of the note—that was done in the country office.

THOMAS M'QUEOSCH . I was agent for a friend in causing this advertisement to be inserted in the newspaper—it was not inserted by me, but by the gentleman for whom I acted—to the best of my knowledge and belief—this is the letter I received in consequence of that advertisement—(produced)—this letter (produced) is my answer to it—I heard nothing further after sending that letter.

Advertisement read from the Spectator Newspaper of the 16th of July, 1842—"Optional Partnership.—Any gentleman having 1000l. may invest them on most advantageous terms, in a very genteel business in London, attended with no risk, with the option within a given period of becoming a partner, and of ultimately succeeding to the whole business; in the mean time security and liberal interest will be given for the loan. Apply by letter, B.B., Mr. Hilton's, bookseller, Penton-street, Pentonville."—Letter read, addressed, "B. B., Mr. Hilton, bookseller, Penton-street, Pentonville, London. Glasgow, 19th July, 1842.—Sir,—My attention has been attracted to your advertisement in the 'Spectator' Newspaper, and as I am unemployed at present, and very anxious to obtain some, I have been induced to write requesting you to state some particulars regarding the nature of the business which you are engaged in, if immediate employment can be given or otherwise, what sort of security will be given for the money; and how much interest. I may mention that I have been engaged in business on my own account for a few years, and am under thirty years of age, very active and of sober habits. The capital of which I am possessed, has been acquired by the most vigilant industry, but unfortunately does not amount to the sum in your advertisement; if nothing less will do, I will be sorry for it, if otherwise have the kindness to address to me.—D. M'N. &c."

ANTHONY NISH . I went to the prisoner's lodging, at Mrs. Patterson's, at Glasgow, and found this letter, several papers of different kinds, and some books—I have not got the books here—I made an inventory of the books I found in his room—this is it—it contains a correct enumeration of the books, papers, and other things.


Saturday, March 4th.

The Queen against M'Naughten continued.

Witnesses for the Defence.

DANIEL M'NAUGHTEN . I am a turner, living at Gorbals, near Glasgow. The prisoner is my natural son—he was apprenticed to me in my business, after which he served me as a journeyman for some time—it may be fourteen or fifteen years ago or thereabouts, since he was apperentice—I think he might be between twelve and thirteen when he came—he served four years and a half or thereabout, then became my journeyman, for I think, two years, then went away a short time and came back and served me again for about three years more—after that he went into business for himself as a turner, for a year and a hlaf—after which he removed to Stockwell-street, Glasgow—he continued therein business for himself, for I think nearly five years—at that time he was very industrious, he was very steady while he was with me, generally very attentive—his conduct towards me was very obdient—he conducted himself with great property at that time—I was

not in the habit of seeing him very frequently after he went into business for himself—after he separated from our shop I did not see him so much as formerly—I met him frequently—after he began for himself, I thought his conduct was a little more distant towards me—he was very seldom in the habit of speaking to me or recognising me when he met me in the street, at first he did, after-wards he became more distant towards me—I met him in several places about two years ago—I understand he went to lodge with Mrs. Patterson—I never saw him there—I heard of his leaving business—I met him frequently in the street after that—he frequently passed me without speaking—I cannot say what reason he had, I had given him no cause for that—I remember his coming to my house full two years ago, it might be two years and a month or so, I cannot say to a few days—he said he wished to speak to me by myself—I went into a room with him—he said he wished me to speak to some of the official gentlemen in the city of Glasgow, to put a stop to a persecution raised against him—he mentioned the name of Mr. Sheriff Allison in particular—I asked him who were the parties that were persecuting him—he told me it was some of the gentlemen connected with the conservative parties in Glasgow, and Mr. Sheriff Allison knew all about it—I told him I was very sorry to hear his statement, and assured him there was no such persecution existing within the kingdom as far as I knew—he shook his head, and said there certainly was a system of persecution existing against him—I again wished him to banish that from his mind as quite a groundless affair, wholly without any foundation whatever—he said I knew about it likewise—I said, "Sir, I am very sorry to inform you I know nothing of the kind, I know nothing of any persecution by any individual at all," that was the express language which passed between us—seeing his mind was so much in that way I rather dropped the subject, and talked on some other subject at that time—he talked about some other subjects rationally enough—he was rational enough off that subject, on any other subject—after talking some time on other subjects, he desired me to use my endeavours to get him into a counting-house in town or in London—before this time he had not given me any description of his days or nights, not at the first visit—I asked him if he was perfectly away from his other business—he said he had given it up—I said it would be necessary for him before he applied for a situation in a counting-house, to go to some respectable teacher to learn a regular course of arithmetic and book-keeping, and better writing, and then I would see what could be done after that—he agreed to my proposition—we parted upon that the first time—a week or two, or a short time after that, he called on me a second time and asked me if I had made any endeavours to stop the persecution against him—I said I certainly thought that in parting the last time he had been to school, and had banished that idea altogether from his mind—he said it was useless of him to attempt any system of improvement, as he was followed constantly by spies night and day—I asked him what were those spies, could he point out to me who they were—he said it was useless for him to point them out, he saw them following him every time he turned round—I asked him what they did to him, did they speak to him?—he said they did not, but they laughed in his face frequently, when he turned round, shook their heads at him, raised their arm and shook their fist in his face likewise, and frequently those of them who had sticks would shake their sticks in his face likewise—he likewise mentioned a man who had a few, perhaps a dozen straws in his hand, and whenever he looked round he saw this individual shaking a few straws in his face—I asked him if I was going out with him, he could point out any of these spies to me—"Oh, no," said he, "if they saw you with me they would not follow me at all, it is only when I am alone they follow me"—I asked him, "What did the man do that had the straws?"—

if he understood what he meant by the straws—he said, "It probably meant that I was to be reduced to a state of beggary by these straws"—I said to him, "Probably that man was a little out of his mind that you saw with the straw, if you really saw him"—he concluded this description for a time, by insisting on my calling on Sheriff Bell, as he knew also about the persecution—he asked me if I knew Sheriff Bell—I said I knew the gentleman by seeing him frequently; I never had spoken to him, but I knew him quite well—"Well," said he, "will you call on Sheriff Bell, and speak to him about it, and desire him to put a stop to it immediately?"—I asked him what he wished me to say to Sheriff Bell—he said that I knew the best way myself how to call on him, I knew better than himself what to say about it—I said I really did not know what to say about it, the thing, the system, had no existence in the world, and if such a system did exist it would be against other individuals as well as himself—I again assured him that nothing of that kind did exist against any individual, and expressed my sorrow at hearing him give such a statement—after assuring him of this, we began on another subject—he did not describe his state at all—he could not, possibly—he only always insisted that these spies were following him—I had a good deal of difficulty to divert his mind from it—we then adverted to another subject, and he again spoke rationally enough, for perhaps half an hour, on some other subject—after that we parted for the night—this was the second interview—I saw him again the third time, perhaps in three or four weeks, I cannot say to a week, about that—he asked me if I had applied to Sheriff Bell, to stop the persecution, and these spies following him—I said I had not—he asked why I did not speak to him—I said it was useless to speak to Sheriff Bell about a system which had no earthly existence—I asked if any person wrote any letters to him, or threatened him, or even dared to injure him in the least degree—he said no, they had not—I asked him if he had ever received any letters containing threatening language to him, which might be the cause of this delusion of mind—he said no, he had never received any letters to that effect—he again asked me if I knew Mr. Salmon, the procurator-fiscal in Glasgow—I said I did, I saw the gentleman every other day passing—he wished me to apply to him, if I did not think proper to apply to Mr. Bell, to stop the persecution, as he also knew about it—I said, if he could describe to me any one thing of a tangible nature, or point out any individual whatever, I would certainly call on any one of those gentlemen, if he would point out who it was that was annoying him—he said he could not point out any individual, he could not point them out—I asked him, when he looked round and saw these spies following him, could he describe what dress they had on—frequently he said they had top-coats on, large coats, wrapped up—I asked him again if ever he saw any of them at any time, and could he recognise them—he said no—I told him my reason for asking him that was, if he could point out any individual, I would immediately find means to prevent it, if he could point out any individual that annoyed him—he said he could not identify any individual—he said that he could not rest night or day, in consequence of being annoyed by these spies—"When I come out of a morning,"he said, "they follow me, and they follow me the whole day, till I return in the evening again; they are constantly following me"—I do not recollect any thing more that passed at that time—we spoke a great deal after that on another subject, and we parted as calm as usual, as we had done on former occasions—a considerable time elapsed before I saw him again, it might be several months after—he called again at my house—I met him at one time on a country road to Glasgow—we were stopping out of town, on account of the health of one of our children—we had an hour's conversation, the same as usual, he still insisting that

spies were following him—perhaps this might be the fourth or fifth interview—the interviews on the same subject were frequent for a year and a half—he was always alone, nobody was with him—I have not seen him in company with any person, I suppose for two years—he told me at that time he had used every endeavour in his power to get quit of these spies, but it was all perfectly in vain—he told me he had left the city of Glasgow to endeavour to avoid them; that he went to England to avoid them, and even to France, to escape from the persecution; that he had no sooner landed in France than he saw the spies following him there, and it was perfectly useless for him to go anywhere else; he had just returned to his native country again; he had been again attempting to evade the persecution, and he had called on me again to apply to the authorities to put a stop to them—I rather think he had called at my house in my absence, but he would find the house locked np—we were living in the country—he repeated his request to me to call on these gentlemen—I reasoned with him about the folly of entertaining ideas of that kind again, and persuaded him to banish these things from his mind—I insisted again and, again that he should put himself to school, and I would endeavour all in my power to get him a situation when he had been at school some time—after reasoning with him on the subject, I considered that it had been in a great degree effaced from his mind—on other subjects he appeared quite rational, like other people—I think I had one or two more interviews with him of the same description—he still wished me to call on the same people, and complained of the spies following him—I did not know that he left for England in September—he did not let me know of that—I saw nothing more of him until I heard that he was in custody—I think it was about the latter end of August that I saw him last—the conversation that passed between us then was just the same as usual—I had not seen any of these official gentlemen—I did not think it necessary—I thought the thing would by-and-by be banished from his mind altogether—his mind was cool and rational on every other subject.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. I understand that Aug. was the last time you saw your son? A. As far as I recollect—I did not learn from him then that he was going to London—I did not know where he was living at that time—he did not tell me—I learned afterwards that he had lived at Mrs. Patterson's—after he left my house, and set up in business for himself I was not on terms of intimacy or friendship with him, very little—he left my house a considerable time before he began business for himself, when he was a journeyman—he did not leave in consequence of a quarrel with me—I believe the reason he left, as far as I know, was, we had been in the habit of shutting up our house two or three months in the year, and taking the younger children thirty or forty miles into the country, we found it inconvenient to keep him in the house alone—we left the shop altogether; and after one of those occasions of coming back, the young man had been and got a lodging for himself—he did not leave in consequence of any quarrel with me—we continued on terms of in timacy after he left—he still worked in my shop a considerable time after he left the house—I cannot say where he was living at that time—I had no quarrel with him when he set up in business for himself—he seemed a little dissatisfied in consequence of not getting a share in my small business—he asked me to give him a share, and I refused—it was in consequence of that that he left—at least that is my conviction, I know of no other cause—I was not on speaking terms with him, but very seldom indeed, for a long time—I frequently passed him in the street without speaking—I know, from his former habits, that he was very industrious, and a hard-working lad; and, us far as that, I thought he was prospering very well—I knew where his

shop was at that time, where he was working—I do not think I was ever at the shop, at least for a number of years—I never was at his lodging—we were not on terms at that time—I think I first spoke to him five or six years after he set up for himself, as far as I recollect, when he called on me after giving up business for himself—I think that was the first occasion of our speaking together—I did not know of his giving up business until a short time after he had done so—party politics sometimes run high at Glasgow—I rather think Mr. Bell belongs to the Conservative party—when I had these conversations with my son, it was always my impression that his mind was disturbed—I did lot consult any medical man, or give information to any of the authorities of Glasgow, because at that very period trouble in my family occupied me a good deal—I had five or six of my family lying ill of scarlet fever—they were the junior branches of my family; and finding him under these rational feelings I thought it unnecessary, as I thought it would certainly get away from his mind altogether—that was my impression.

Q. What time was your family afflicted, as you say? A. Just at the very time be first called on me—all along.

Q. It could not remain two years? A. No; but one of the youngest had lingered on for two years, and was always ill, till it died.

Q. That was your reason for not taking any steps? A. I thought it more necessary that I should attend to the junior branches of the family—he was away from our house, and I thought he was perfectly able to conduct himself—he conversed with me rationally on every subject, except that one.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. You were aware of no cause of quarrel that occasioned him to leave your house? A. No, I was not—after he left our house he worked in my shop—I saw him daily—he had the charge of my shop in my absence—it was not my act that we passed each other without speaking—it was sore against my mind—he seemed to think I was opposing him in business, when he was opposing me, for he got numbers of my customers; but I never minded that, I had plenty—his passing me was his own act—he would sometimes hold his head away—I hoped these notions would pass away, and considered him perfectly able to conduct himself—he was qnite a harmless, inoffensive lad, as far as I saw; and that was bis general character, as far at I knew—I had a wile and family living at home—he never evinced any disposition to violence, or any thing of that sort—my reason for leaving him to himself, and not taking any steps, was, that I hoped it would pass away from his mind.

WILLIAM GILCHRIST . I am a printer, and live at No. 22, Centre-street, Tradestown, near Glasgow. I know the prisoner—I first became acquainted with him in 1834—the last time I saw him was in July last—when I first knew him in 1834, I was a fellow lodger with him at Mrs. Dagleish's, in Gorbal's-close, by Glasgow—we slept in the same bed till May, 1835, from about the 1st of April, 1834—during that period he used to get up frequently in the night, and walk about the room saying unconnected sentences, "by Jove," and "my God"—they were not stid in a loud tone, but loud enough for me to hear—that has occurred while he was walking in the room—they were uttered in rather a grave manner—he would occasionally be out of bed an hour, walking up and down in this way—he did not dress himself, or put anything on—he then returned to bed—this occurred from time to time during the whole period I was his fellow lodger—he appeared to be kind and mild, and of a sensitive disposition—perhaps in walking he would not allow a bird's nest to be harried—I have known that happen in my presence—I have known him carry out crumbs of bread for the purpose of feeding birds

when he went out walking—he seemed particularly fond of children—he frequently went out to Cathcart to see children there—Cathcart is two or three miles from where we lived—I accompanied him several times at his request—Mr. Smith is the minister of Cathcart—there were two children under his care, who were in the habit of playing in the garden—it was to see those children play, that I accompanied him on several occasions—he merely knew them by seeing them there in the garden—he told me that his object in taking me to see them was to witness their innocence—when I saw him in July last, it was on the banks of the Clyde—I walked out with him a short way—I noticed on that occasion that he did not look me so fair in the face as usual—I mean when he looked up, he immediately put down his head again, if 1 looked at him—on meeting my gaze he dropped his eyes to the ground—I noticed that particularly—he was not so connected in his conversation as formerly—he did not about that time complain to me about any pain that he had—on a former occasion he complained of pain in the breast—he only did so once—he would laugh occasionally without any cause, and cry without any apparent cause, but not loud—not shedding tears, but moaning, making a noise—he never to my knowledge attended public meetings, or took part in politics—I never heard him express any extravagant political opinion—about a month before July last, I saw him in my own office—he told me he had been to the House of Commons, that he had heard O'Connell, Sir Robert Peel, and Lord John Russell speak—he said Sir Robert Peel had arrived at that which Byron had said of him, of being something in the State, and that he was a great orator, that O'Connell was a great declaimer, but Lord John Russell was inferior to either of them—he did not say anything on that occasion in the least disrespectful of Sir Robert Peel—I have told you all he said on the subject.

Cross-examined by MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. When he went out of bed in the night, and walked about the room talking, was he awake or asleep? A. He must have been awake, because he was walking and speaking—I took no notice, but concluded he was awake by his walking—I have seen him laugh without any apparent cause—he might have been laughing at some recollection which I could not understand—that is not unusual—I cannot tell whether any internal pain made him moan—when he spoke of Sir Robert Peel, Lord John Russell, and O'Connell, he did not say whether they were right or wrong—there was no conversation to lead to his making that observation—nothing but what I have stated—when I met him in July, he cast down his eyes—he was not in business for himself at that time—he had left business—I know that in the course of his business he realised a good deal of money.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Did you speak to him on that occasion of this getting up and walking about the room? A. No—I never mentioned it to him afterwards.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Had you been in the habit of seeing him between 1835 and 1842? A. Yes, frequently—I was on terms of intimacy with him at Glasgow—I was in the habit of seeing him at his workshop—he also came to my place—I continued intimate with him down to the last.

JOHN HUGHES . I am a tailor, and live at Glasgow. The prisoner lodged at my house at Glasgow, at one time, for about seven months—he first came in June, 1835—I had another lodger, named William M'Ockingdale—when the prisoner first came to lodge with me, M'Ockingdale slept in the same bed with him—M'Ockingdale complained to me that the prisoner was restless at night, and he left the lodging in less than a week, I believe for that reason—I myself slept in the same bed with the prisoner on one or two occasions—I was disturbed by him by his wrapping the whole of the

clothes round him during the night, and a great motion with his arms and feet—he did not get out of bed, to my knowledge—his sleep appeared to be very sound, but he was very much disturbed while he was sleeping, kicking about with his feet, and knocking about with his arms—during the whole time he lodged with me he had no acquaintance or friend as a visitor—his manner was very strange, he scarcely spoke but when spoken to, and when he spoke, his reply was quick—he always looked down when the eye caught his, and before he asked for anything, he appeared very much confused; when he did ask, he did it very quickly, and was quite relieved when he had asked—he used to leave my house and go to his workshop, I think, about seven, and returned to breakfast about nine—he staid at breakfast for an hour, then went away, and returned at two to dinner—after dinner he went away again, and returned about seven in the evening—he very frequently went to work after that—he constantly read while having his meals in my house—we usually went to bed at a little past ten—he generally remained up after we were gone to bed—I can scarcely say how late he sat up—we have heard him up till between twelve and one—I have known him to be out of bed at that time—he was always reading when he went to bed—I gave him notice to leave—I had several reasons for doing so, his strangeness of manners, his unsociablenesss, as well at the family fire-side, and his infidel principles—I had family worship in my house every Sunday morning, and every Sunday night—I did not have family worship exactly every day, but frequently, but he was always out of the way when we had it, only on sabbaths—he was at work on the other days—he always attended family worship on sabbaths, regularly.

Q. What did you mean, then, by his infidel principles? A. Because the books he was reading were infidel books—I got a lodging for him—he was very unwilling to leave my lodging—I do not know where he went to live after that—he never called on me after he left my lodging—one morning, about a month before he left, when be came in to breakfast, he appeared quite irritated and confused—he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, I have a question to ask you," speaking to me and my wife at the same time, in a very abrupt way, and angry—I said, "What is it, Mr. M'Naughten?"—he said, "Has anybody been saying anything to you against me?"—I answered, "No"—he said, "I have reason to suspect so"—he took his breakfast, and no more passed that morning.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. When did he leave your house? A. At the latter end of Dec., 1835—I never saw him since—he was working for himself at that time—it was after he left his father—at that time he always looked down, and did not look me in the face when I spoke to him—that has been so ever since I have known him—he was more strange towards the latter end of the time than when he first came—his character was more strange altogether—he came to me in July, 1835—I observed a great difference between July and Dec.—the strangeness of his manner—he was far more distant coming into the house, and remaining, and not speaking and persons speaking to him—he would be sometimes a long time before he gave any answer, and he would ask whether we were speaking to him—I did not observe the same sort of thing about him at first—he did not look me in the face when I spoke to him, when he first came, that continued all the time—during that time he was working for himself, going out to his work regularly—I parted good friends with him—I told him the reason I wished him to go, but I did not tell him this reason—it was not likely I should tell him the reasons I have stated—I did not state those reasons—I gave as a reason, that I wished him to leave—that was the principal reason

—I told him that my wife could not much longer wait upon him, that was the principal reason I gave him for going, meaning that we would wish to get clear of him, that was the principal thing—that was all that passed about it—I have not seen him since—I have not had many lodgers since—I have had some—I recollect his asking if any one had said anything against him—that was in Nov., 1835—I told him, no.

COURT. Q. Was that before or after the notice you gave him to quit? A. It was two months after—I gave him several notices—I had some children living in the house—he scarcely ever spoke to them.

WILLIAM CARDWELL . I am a turner, and carry on business in Stockwell-street, Glasgow—I know the prisoner—about seven years ago I went there to work with him as journeyman, and continued to do so for two years and seven months—I left him in 1838—I remember seeing him again in June, 1841—I frequently saw him in the interval between 1838 and 1841—his business in Stockwell-street was a good business for a considerable time—in 1840 he wanted me to take it—I did not want to do so at first, having other objects in view—he said if I did not take it he should sell off—it was at the latter end of 1840—he wanted to dispose of the whole of it to me, and he and I went into an arrangement, and I occupied it in 1841—that was after he had told me he should sell it off if I did not take it—he said he intended giving up, intending to embark in some other line, and that it would be a good speculation for me to take it, and by his persuasion I did—he said if I did not take it, he would be under the necessity of rouping the tools and selling off—during the time I was working with him I often heard him complain of his head—he complained of a pain in the head, and when he was fashed with it, he would sit for days, at least half days, holding his head—the Clyde is about half a mile from his premises—I have known him when suffering from his head go away to bathe for the pain in the head—I have known him afflicted with this pain since 1835, perhaps a day at a time, at monthly intervals or so—he appeared to suffer much pain at those times.

Q. When did you first, if ever, observe anything you thought wrong about him? A. I did not observe anything I could call seriously wrong about him till about six months ago—I had before seen him very downcast, and like afflicted in the mind, but no actions or words till about six months ago—after 1841, when I took the business, I did not see him very often till about six months—not long at a time—I saw him frequently after 1841, sometimes twice a week, sometimes not for a month or two months—I have been informed for the last eighteen months that he was wrong, but I did not believe it—I always countermanded it—about six months ago I went to see him in consequence of what I had heard—I saw him at his own lodging at Mrs. Patterson's, on a Sunday—I had not heard anything about plots against him before that time—I walked out with him, and he gave me a description of his tour to France—he said he went there for curiosity—he told me there was a party using their influence against him, and he did not get a situation on that account—I put the question to him why he did not get into a situation, and that was his answer, that there was a party using their influence against him—that they followed him to France and England, and through Scotland—I asked him if they actually followed him—he said no, but they sent their intelligence and he was known wherever he went, and then he wished to drop the subject—I told him that it was surely folly his imagining anything of the sort, for I did not think it, there was no truth in it—I asked him if they were Englishmen, Frenchmen, or Scotchmen—he said they were Scotchmen from the city—I stated that he ought to have them punished if they were slandering him—that I thought his character quite good, and he ought to have them

punished surely—he said, provided he could get his eyes on them they would not be long in the land of the living—I noticed that his demeanour and conduct changed very much in the course of the conversation—I thought it proper to drop the subject, from his violent action and words—I was quite satisfied I had gone far enough on that subject, because that was the subject 1 went on—I went to satisfy my mind—what I had heard for eighteen months I disbelieved wholly—I did not continue in that disbelief—I informed a dozen of my acquaintances the next week what had happened—I had heard reports of him as to his state—after I had had this conversation with him I quite believed what I had heard—in my judgment, he was not in his right mind when I had this conversation with him six months ago—I went expressly to ascertain that that was the fact, having up to that time disbelieved what I had heard.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. When did you begin to work for him? A. In 1835—I knew him very well in 1835, 1836 and 1837—he was lodging with Hughes in 1835—there was nothing particular about his manner at that time, it was very eccentric.

Q. What do you mean by very eccentric? A. Hard Working and penurious—his habits were a little eccentric, and what I call penurious, all connected with penury—that is what I meant by eccentric—his manner was like other people's at that time—he altered a little within the last six months—he was very anxious to have his accounts in—that was before he gave up business—between January, 1841, and the Sunday when I went to see him at Mrs. Patterson's, I saw him frequently—I did not visit him at Mrs. Patterson's except once for a minute, I have met him in the street—I conversed with him very shortly on those occasions I observed a little downcast look in him lately—he had not that look in 1835—I did not particularly observe that he looked me full in the face—he could speak fairly enough—he always had that disposition to evade questions—I cannot say that he looked me in the face when he spoke to me.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. As far as you could observe of him, was be a sullen, reserved, taciturn person? A. Yes, always—he was not in the habit of going about with persons like other men—he kept himself very much to himself, and when questions were put to him, he answered them as shortly as possible—it was before he gave up business that he appeared to be anxious to get his accounts in—hee said he was sure some persons were putting ill in their heads against him—that was the expression he used when he talked about his accounts—that did not attract my attention at the time.

COURT. Q. What did you give him for the business? A. 18l.—he had been in business five years and a half—he employed another person besides me at that time—the 18l. included tools and all—there were very few took, they were all worn out.

JANE DRUMMOND PATTERSON . I live at Glasgow. The prisoner came to lodge with me about two years ago—I had known him before that—for the last eighteen months I have observed a remarkable change in his manner—I observed that his eyes wore a very strange appearance—they looked very wild and different to what they used to do—he was very disturbed in his sleep—I slept in the adjoining room to his—there was a thin partition between us—I observed that restlessness in his sleep about the same time that I observed the wildness in his eyes, and that was about six months after he had been lodging in my house—he went away from time to time—I cannot exactly say when it was he first went away—it was some time after 1 observed the change in him—the wildness in his eyes changed again before he went away the first time—they turned better and then got bad again, and he used to moan and

groan in his sleep, and speak—that was while he was in his bed—I could not distinctly hear what he said on those occasions, only that he was speaking—that has occurred several times, at the same time I observed the wildness in his eyes—he did not have one person to visit him during the whole time, except one young man, which was Cardwell, who succeeded him in his business—I cannot exactly say how long he was gone the first time he went away, for I paid little attention to his going and coming—it was two or three months—it was during the summer season that he went generally—it was in the summer season the first time—when he came back, after leaving the first time, he said he had been in London and France—he did not then give me any further account of where he had been, or why he went—I do not know how long he remained when he came back—it was rather better than three months—he looked very poorly when he came back the first time, and was thinner than he had been, and I observed that his eyes were not much better—I had noticed his eyes before he went away—he slept in the same room on his return, and I slept in my room—I noticed the restlessness at night, as before—he was gone the second time about as long as before, and when he came back I think he staid about four months, if I recollect right, or three months and a half—I remember his returning, but I cannot exactly say the time—he went away a third time, and never returned—that was the time he came to London—he went away twice, and returned twice—on his returning the second time he told me he had been to France—he told me that he was twice in France.

Q. Did he tell you what was the reason of his going? A. He said he was going to seek a commission in the army—he told me that before he went, and after—he did not tell me anything that had happened to him in France when he returned—I aked why he did not stop in London or France when he got there—he said he could not stop there, he could have got plenty of berths, but he could not stop; he was haunted by devils—I asked him what sort of devils they were—he said they were men from Glasgow—at the time he was telling me this, he appeared to look very indifferent, not very well—he appeared to be very angry with me when I asked him—we at different times had conversations on the subject of his being haunted by devils—I told him I thought he was going wrong in his mind—he got angry, and said that I knew nothing about it—he repeatedly told me about his being haunted by devils, and I wished him to go out of the house, to go away, because I was afraid of him—when I expressed that wish, he said he would go away in a little time, as soon as possible—that was all he said when I mentioned for him to go and look for a situation for himself—I wanted him out of the house, and he told me he would go away as soon as possible—it was when I spoke to him about getting a situation that he spoke about the devils—he said be could get plenty of situations, but he was haunted by devils in every corner that he went into—I have many a time spoken to him with a view of inducing him to get a situation, and sometimes he gave me that answer, and sometimes not—he has very often given me that answer—on one occasion I found some pistols in his room; that was, I think, a few days before he went away, which was in Sept.—I said to him, "In the name of God, what are you doing with pistols there?"—he said he was going to shoot birds with them—I did not see the pistols after that.

Q. Was he in the habit lately of lying in bed in the daytime? A. Yes—he took a lowness of spirits, and went to his bed—he complained of pain in his breast—I told him to take medicine—he said he would not take medicine—he said it was a great heat and pain in his breast—he laid on the top of the bed with his clothes on—he was dressed—I have known him to be in the

house all day in that way—on one occasion, when I spoke to him about geting a situation, he took hold of me by the breast—that was not one of the occasions on which he spoke of being haunted by devils—I was telling him to go away and look for a situation for himself, he was rather cross, and siezed me by the breast, he made use of an oath at the time—I do not recollect what it was—his eyes were very wild at that time—I knew very little of him before he came to my house.

Q. You knew him for six months before you observed this change, during that time what had been his conduct and demeanor? A. I noticed his eyes going wrong at different times—he was a very quiet man—he left me in Sept. the last time—he took nothing with him but what was on his back—he told me that he was going, on the morning that he went—I do not recollect how he had been the day before, but the day he went he was very raised- looking, excited, and wild—his eyes looked wild and frightsome-like, like they used to be—before he went I asked him, if he was going to London, to take the trouble to go to the East India House, and inquire after the Argyle steamer—he said he would go—he appeared to be strange-looking then—my husband is employed on board a steamer.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. When did you first observe anything about his eyes? A. As soon as ever be came to the house—I cannot say justly that I noticed it when he first came, but after he was there some time—it is about eighteen months ago that he first said anything to me about being haunted by devils—that was what he said—he never told me that he was haunted by any other persons—when I asked him what sort of devils, he said tbey were men from Glasgow—when anybody else has spoken of it, he has always said that he was haunted by devils and persecuted, and it was always that that he spoke about.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Do you know a person named Forrester, who has been examined as a witness? A. Yes—I met him at Glasgow, as I was going to Sheriff Allison's—I had got a summons to go up to speak of what had happened—I told Forrester where I was going—he said, "Well, I can testify myself that the man is insane," and he urged me to take him up along with me to the sheriff—I said, "No"—he said he knew that the prisoner was a daft man—I would not take him to the sheriff because I saw that he had drink in his head, and I thought he knew but little about him—I did not tell him that at the time.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL . Q. You were going up to Mr. Allison's to speak to the prisoner being insane, were you not? A. Yes, that was my object in going up—I did not ask any one to go with me, and no one did go with me—I met Forrester coming across the street where I was stopping—I told him where I was going, and knowing he had got the newspaper, I asked him what he had heard about M'Naughten's case, and what had happened—he said yes, he knew it quite well—I had very little talk with him—I asked him if he had heard anything about the young man in the newspapers—he said he had, and I told him I was going up to Sheriff Allison—he offered his services to go along with me, and said that he knew quite well the young man was insane—I would not let him go and he did not—I knew that he came very little about the prisoner, because the prisoner was at hard labour out of the house, and he never used to come to my house—I do not think he was there above once or twice—he was in the house just twice, not oftener than that—he was not constantly in the habit of coming to see me—he has been at my house but very seldom—he knew my husband—he has been at my house to see my husband, but my husband has been from home these twelve months—he has not been to my house

to see me while my husband was away—he was just once at my house when the prisoner was there that I recollect—that was at the time I was up in London, in May, seeing my husband away with the Argyle—the day I was in London I heard that Forrester was at my house, talking with the prisoner—the prisoner told me so when I came home—he said that Forrester had been there to talk to him—he was once at the house when I was at home—those are the only two times he has been—he was in my house exactly twice—he lived across the street where I lived—I saw him very often—I very seldom talked to him—the prisoner did not tell me what he had come to talk to him about—he said that he was up in the house, and he wished to get rid of him—that was last May, after I came from London.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Had Nish the officer been to your house and searched it before you met Forrester? A. I cannot recollect, I think he had, but the officers were two or three times at the house—I went to the sheriff in consequence of having a summons.

HENRY GLASSFORD BELL, ESQ . I am one of the sheriffs of the county of Lanark, and reside at Glasgow—the prisoner very much resembles a person who called on me about nine or ten months ago—I cannot swear that he is the person—I have a strong impression that he is the same person—I cannot say that I am satisfied he is the same person, I think he is—he came to my office and stated that he was persecuted as he considered, and could get no redress—I asked him the nature of the persecution—he made a confused rambling statement in answer, the drift of which appeared to be, that he thought some persons had conceived an ill-will to him—that he considered himself, and I am not quite sure whether he said his property, in danger—I told him if he had a complaint of a criminal nature to make against any one, he should go to the Procurator Fiscal for the county, and if it was of a civil nature he should consult a man of business—he said he did not think that would do any good, and went away, apparently rather dissatisfied—about a fortnight after, the same person called again, one forenoon, and repeated some-what in the same way as formerly, that he still was subject to the persecution of which he complained—I asked if he had been to the Procurator Fiscal, or had consulted with a man of business—he either said that he had not, or that he had, and they refused to interfere—I then stated to him that if they would not interfere, if he would not take my advice of going to them, I could do nothing for him at that time—he then went away, after perhaps making one or two other observations of a somewhat confused description, which I did not pay much attention to—I think he was not very satisfied.

Q. What was the impression on your mind as to the state of that person's mind? A. I certainly thought there was something decidedly odd in the mode in which he expressed himself, and in the somewhat confused statement which he made—I made an observation to my clerk, who was waiting in the room, as to the state of the prisoner's mind, immediately after he left.

ALEXANDER JOHNSTONE , Esq., M.P. I am member for a district of the Scotch Burghs, near Glasgow—I have seen the prisoner twice before—the first time I saw him was at Glasgow, about a year ago—he called on me to complain of persecution, to request advice and assistance to get quit of the annoyance or persecution—he talked a little about other business, and upon that I found him reasonable and tranquil; and when he began on the subject of persecution he spoke in a tranquil manner too—he said that he was persecuted by the emissaries of a political party, that he had given offence to, on account of interfering in politics—he did not represent in what way he interfered in politics—he said he was attacked in the newspapers, that he was followed by persons hired to annoy him; that he could get no rest, night nor day, on account of being watched; that he had no peace of mind, and he

did not know what to do—I told him I believed he was mistaken, that I did not think any one followed him, or that any political party annoyed him; that if he was annoyed in any way he ought to complain to the captain of the police, who would protect him—that formed the principal subject of our first interview—I think he said he thought that nothing would satisfy his persecutors but his life—when I doubted the truth of his suppositions, he said he was quite certain of the fact; that many persons said to him that he was mistaken, that he was under a wrong impression, but he did not believe any thing wrong with him; he was perfectly in good health, of a sound state of mind, and that he was quite certain what he had stated was quite right—I considered that what he stated to me was his positive belief—I was impressed with the firmness of his convictions, right or wrong—I at length got rid of him—about eight days afterwards he called a second time—his representations on that occasion were much the same as on the first—he spoke generally of being annoyed, in the same way as before; that he could get no change; that he could get no rest at night; and he wished very much that I would interfere on his behalf, and free him from his persecutors—I recommended him to go to the sheriff and make his complaint; and I was quite sure, if he was so annoyed, that he would be protected by the authorities of the place—my object in doing so was to satisfy him, and to get rid of him, as I was convinced he was under a delusion—I perceived that what I said did not remove it—I came to London, I think, about the end of April—a few weeks after I arrived in London I received a letter from the prisoner—I think I destroyed that letter at the time I received it—I have not got it now—the letter, I think, contained three pages of writing, full of the same complaints as he had made to me personally—to the best of my belief, it stated that he had been followed in the way he had personally represented to me—it was to the same effect that I have stated—I do not remember particularly the expressions in the letter—I read it hastily over—I saw that it was to the same purport that I state, and I immediately answered it, and destroyed the letter—this is the answer I sent to him—that was quite the result of my own conviction, from what had passed between us, and what he had written to me—I believed that at that time he was labouring under a delusion of the mind, and that there was no ground or reason whatever for his entertaining the fears which he expressed and wrote to me about.

Letter read.—"To Mr. Daniel M'Naughten, 90, Clyde-street, Anderston, Glasgow.—Reform Club, 5th May, 1842.—Sir, I received your letter of 3rd May. I am very sorry that I can do nothing for you. I am afraid that you are labouring under a delusion of mind, and that there is no reason for your entertaining such fears. Yours, &c., ALEXANDER JOHNSTONE." Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Had you had any acquaintance or knowledge of this young man before? A. I knew nothing whatever about him before he called on me in Glasgow—I had not known his father or his family—I had no other interview with him than those I have named—I did not give any information about him, or take any steps, to the authorities in Glasgow or London—this letter of mine was the last thing that passed between us—I have had no communication with him since.

SIR JAMES CAMPBELL . I am the Lord Provost of Glasgow, and was so in 1842. The prisoner called on me, I think, in May, 1842, in the morning while I was at breakfast—I came out into the lobby, and spoke to him there—his statement was to the effect that he wished my influence to protect him against certain annoyances and persecutions that he was exposed to—he stated that he was dogged and followed—I asked by whom, but he did not make me sensible of who it was—I do not recollect his words, but he stated that he had

been all that night in the fields in the suburbs, in consequence of his apprehensions from these parties, and that he was afraid to go home, that they had an ill-will to him—he did not assign any reason—I think he said that it was personal danger he was afraid of—he did not make me understand who the parties were—his answer was an evasion to my question—he did not seem to have it fixed on his mind exactly who it was, but he seemed to have an impression that parties were following him, annoying and threatening him, but I could not make out who they were—I told him that I considered he was labouring under some hypochondriacal affection, and asked him whether he had been treated as a person that was deranged in mind—he said, "No"—I told him I thought he should consult his friends, and especially see a medical gentleman—I certainly considered at the time that he was labouring under some error of mind, that the apprehension of danger that he stated was not real—I thought that he himself was impressed with a sincere belief of the truth of the representation he was making to me—the impression produced on my mind was such that I sent to his father, and desired him to come to me to speak as to his son's state of mind—I thought it was a prudential course on my part to see his father—I am not aware that the father came—I did not see him.

Cross-examined by MR. WADDINGTON. Q. Was this the only occasion on which you saw the prisoner? A. The only occasion—I never saw him before or since, till I saw him in London—I should say he was not with me more than five minutes on this morning—he stood with his back to the door, and it was from the fan-light over the door that the light came in, and I did not see his face so very full—had it not been for what he said I should not have recognised anything wrong about him—there was nothing in his manner of speaking which was remarkable—he spoke very firmly and without any kind of nervousness—I did not apprehend any danger from his going at large—I did not think it necessary to take any further steps upon his father not coming to me.

REV. ALEXANDER TURNER . I am minister of the parish of Gorbals, new Glasgow. The prisoner called on me at my house some months ago—from my own recollection I am not able to say precisely how many months ago it was—it might have been six months, twelve months, or eighteen months ago—I believe it was within seven or eight months ago—that was, as far as I know, the first time I had seen him—he told me that he was the son of Mr. M'Naughten, of the corner of Stock well-street, who resides within my parish, and who is a member of my congregation—he told me that for some time past he had been very much persecuted by some political party, who had annoyed him in many different ways, that in order to escape their persecutions he had gone to the continent, I think he said to France, but in vain, he had not succeeded in freeing himself from their persecution and their annoyance—I think he said that they had still found him out, that he was unable to evade their persecution, and in general terms he said it had the effect of making his life miserable—I cannot recall the language he used—I do not remember the precise expressions—I think he talked of being haunted by them—I do not remember that he described how they were persecuting him—he said either that he had called, or that he was about to call, I do not remember which, on the Sheriff and on Sir James Campbell, and I think he mentioned the Fiscal, for protection, or for advice as to how he might be protected—he seemed to me at the time to be under a very great degree of excitement, which was evidenced by the drops of perspiration appearing from his brow and dropping down from his brow, at the time he was describing the supposed persecutions to which he had been exposed—I certainly thought at the time that he was

insane—my impression was such that I went to his father either the day after, or at all events within a day or two, and told him what I had seen and heard, and stated the result of my opinion—I told him that I thought his son should be put under charge or taken charge of, or something to that effect—I am not aware that when he was with me either of us changed the subject to any other.

Cross-examined by MR. WADDINGTON. Q. Do I understand you to say that you cannot, on consideration, give us the date, or anything near the date of this interview? A. I cannot from my own recollection do so, but, from other circumstances, I believe it was about seven or eight months ago—I mentioned the circumstance of that interview to my wife almost immediately after it happened, and she recollected it—I had not known the prisoner at all before—I never saw him before or since, except on one occasion, when I was taken to see whether I could identify him, for an instant in prison—I recognised him—the interview at my house probably did not last more than five or ten minutes—he stated that his object in calling on me was, that I would use my influence with his father, to see if he would endeavour to get him protected—I told him that I would see his father—that seemed to satisfy him, and he went away.

HUGH WILSON . I am commissioner of police at Glasgow. I have known the prisoner about ten or twelve years—about eighteen months ago he came to make a complaint to me, in my character of commissioner of police—after being there some little time, talking about the weather, or something, I saw, from his anxious manner, that he had something to communicate, and he said he had come to consult me on a very delicate matter—I said, "Well, what is it, Mr. M'Naughten?"—he said, in a very hesitating way, "Why, it is a sort of persecution that I am the object of"—I said, "What sort of persecution is it?"—he said, "The fact of the matter is, I-think it proceeds from Clyde-street"—I said, "Where from Clyde-street?"—he said, "Just from the chapel there, from the Catholic priests" (the principal chapel of the Catholics there is in Clyde-street) I said, "Do you mean the Catholic priests?"—he said, "Yes, assisted by a parcel of Jesuits"—I said, "What do they do to you, what is the nature of the persecution?"—he said, "Annoying me, and following me wherever I go"—I said, "Follow you? I cannot understand it at all"—he said, "Even when I retire to my bed in my lodging, I scarcely get into my bed till I see them in my bed-room"—I said it was an extraordinary thing, I could not conceive what it was or how it was; and it being eleven o'clock, on Saturday night, I said I would inquire into it, and I would know if there was anything in it—he said he would be obliged to me if I would do so, apologizing at the same time for the trouble he had given me, and asked when he should call back—I said, "Call back at any time"—he said, "When shall I call back?"—I said, "Next week"—he said, "Will you say the day?"—I said, "Very well"—he said, "Will Tuesday do?"—I said, "Very well, Tuesday"—he showed great anxiety on the subject—he was very calm when he came in, but at the time he left he was agitated from head to foot—as he spoke on he got the more agitated—his manner was such that it excited some of my family, who were in an adjoining room, who said, when he went out, "Surely that man is daft"—he came again on the Tuesday morning, about ten o'clock—I then entered into a discussion with him, and said, "Really there must be some mistake here;" I could not understand what they had to do with him, and I asked him what he had ever done to the Catholics to cause them thus to annoy him—he said he could not tell himself, he only wished they would tell him what they wanted with him; he was quite ready to do

anything they wished, if they would only tell him what it was—he still persisted in the fact of being thus annoyed—I said, "For my part, I cannot see it; give me some reason for it; the Church of Rome is an immense body; I need not tell you its constitution, and I should like to know how an humble individual such as you are in Glasgow, can be an object for such an establishment to persecute in the manner they are doing"—after reasoning for some time, he said that all I had said he would not contradict; that it was a theory, but he had the facts before his eyes, which this theory could not overturn; they were facts which he saw before his eyes—seeing that I could not be convinced that such was the case, he then said, "But there are other parties that are annoying me"—I said, "What are they?"—he said, "Oh, I think some of your police are at the bottom of it"—I said, "That is something we shall be able to get at; let us hear something about it, that is something we shall be able to inquire into"—I then asked him what sort of appearance they had—he said, just the same sort of appearance, the same sort of individuals that he saw, and he believed it was the same sort of concern, they were all in one plot—seeing that I was rather doubtful of his communication, he pressed it with greater earnestness, and said, if I knew what he suffered, he was sure I should not take his calling on me a trouble—when I got him pleased, he went away, with my promising to inquire into it—I saw him again in the course of two days—I did not intend to inquire, because I considered it nonsense; but I said, in excuse to him, that I had forgotten to make the inquiry—he again apologized for the trouble he gave me, saying that no doubt my time was very much occupied, but at the same time repeating what he had done before, the great suffering he was subject to, in excuse for his troubling me—I promised to speak to Miller, the superintendent of the police—he left me, and came back again in the course of two or three days—of course I never intended to speak to Miller—I told him I had seen Miller, that he said it was all nonsense, and I was convinced there was nothing in it—he said that Miller was a bad one, he saw it in his face, and that he was deceiving both him and me—I said that Mr. Miller had a very peculiar duty to discharge, that people might form such an opinion of him, but I believed he was telling me the truth—he then said it was hard, the way he was annoyed, and repeated what he had said before regarding the Jesuits, that if they would only tell him what it was they wanted with him, he would do it, and still pressed his complaints—I told him if he would go away, and never mind them, I would look into it myself—I did not advise him to leave the place, but just to go away for the time, and pay no attention, as if nothing was going on, and I would try to find it out myself—I said that just to pacify him—he went away, came back again in two or three days, and complained that the people who were persecuting him, were just as bad as ever—I said, "How is that, do you see them?"—he said, "Yes, I see them"—I said, "How do you see them?"—"Oh," said he, "when I look about me"—"Look about you," I said, "why you have spoiled the plan I was adopting"—he said the appearances he saw were similar to those under the first persecution that he spoke of by the Catholics.

Q. Did he say they were similar, or did he describe them in similar terms? A. No, he said they were persecuting him as before, without describing them at all—I did not ask him any description of them—he said that there was no change—he said that the Tories were the party that joined with the Catholics, that he had no rest, that he could get no sleep night nor day, that his sufferings were intolerable, and that they would throw him into a consumption—I told him that he had spoiled the scheme I had laid, and seemed very much disappointed—he begged pardon, and said I had not

given him the proper directions to follow out the scheme, or he certainly would have done it, that he would have given anything to get his object obtained, and were it possible yet to do it, he would do as I told him—I told him that he was neither to look to the one side or the other, that he was if possible not to see them by any means; that they might not see that he observed them—he said he would do so—I did not see him after that for three or four months—he then came, and said that they were worse than ever—on the first interview I had told him that he should get out of the way, and get away from the place—he said that he had done so, that he had been to Boulogne, and he said, "You have been there"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "You recollect the wooden box that is on the Quay for the custom-house officers"—I said, "Yes"—he said he had scarcely got the length of the box, till he saw them, or one of them, peeping past the corner on the Quay—I said, "Did you go on to Paris?"—he said no, it was no use his going any further spending his money, when he could get no relief—he did not tell me where he had been on that occasion—he said that they were worse than ever—I then recommended him to go into the country, work and amuse himself, and divert his mind from the thing, for I thought it was nonsense—he said it was no use his going to the country, because they would follow him—I saw him many times after this—this was after he had been away three or four months—I cannot say whether he looked worse when he came back—I do not recollect that he did—he was always perfectly quiet when he came in, but by the time he left he always got more excited, and I saw he was worse in that respect, and more violent in his language—the last time I saw him was I think about Aug. last—he then made the same complaints to me—I had a great many interviews of the same nature—he asked my advice as to where he should go to work, and the manner in which he should leave the place to give the spies as it were the slip—the last time I saw him this appeared to be stronger on his mind than ever, and his manner was more excited—I had a great many interviews, all of that same nature, consulting me how he could leave—I called on his father at this period, and told him what I had observed—that was I dare say two or three months before Aug.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL. Q. I presume that you did not think it necessary to take any steps to restrain him, or anything of that sort, in consequence of his statement? A. I did not—I did nothing, but give him the opinion as he came to ask it—I did not know where he lived—I canvassed him for his vote at his work place—that was a year and a half before he called on me on this matter—I have not canvassed him for his vote since he called on me—I think it must be nearly three years since I canvassed him for his vote—it was to be elected Commissioner of police—the party who were canvassing for me said they thought I should call on him, as he was rather a doubtful voter—I had an opponent—mine is not a political appointment—it ought not to be—it gives us no political power whatever—I have not called on the prisoner to canvass him for his vote within the last twelve months, nor for the last two or three years—I say that most distinctly—I knew him perfectly well, when he called on me to make this complaint—I was in the habit of speaking to him when I met him in the street—I had known him for the last ten or twelve years—I had not observed any thing peculiar in his appearance at that time, only he was a little opinionated, a little stiff in his opinions, and a little sarcastic—I cannot say that I remarked anything particular about his eyes, or his appearance—I observed a change in him when he called on me the other day, a restlessness in his manner, looking about, and staring with his eyes—he was very bad, very much excited, the last time I saw him, which was last Aug., he then complained to me in the same

way, and said that he was not able to suffer longer—something must be done for him—without his speaking of any particular party at that time, I understood him to mean the same party he had before spoken of—the Catholic priests, and the police were the parties he had spoken of before, and spies—he said the police were at the bottom of it, in fact that it was a combined system, the whole were leagued against him, the police, the Jesuits, the Catholic priests, and the Tories—he mentioned the Tories—I believe he described them—I did not understand him to mean any person, but just the Tories as a body—that was what he repeated to me on several occasions.

EDWARD THOMAS MONROE, ESQ . M.D. I have had considerable experience in the treatment of lunatics for thirty years, I have devoted myself entirely to that branch of the profession—I was called on by the friends of the prisoner to visit him after he was confined in gaol—Sir Alexander Morrison, and Mr. M'Clewer went with me, on the part of his friends—Dr. Bright, and Dr. Sutherland, jun. visited him at the same time on the part of the Crown—I was given to understand we were not permitted to see him except in the presence of the other two—we all in turns asked him various questions—I made notes immediately afterwards, and have those notes, but I can tell you the substance without looking at those notes—it was on the 18th of Feb.—he commenced by stating that he was persecuted by a system, by a crew at Glasgow, Edinburgh, Liverpool, London, and Boulogne—that they pursued or followed him wherever he went, that he had no peace—he said it would kill him—that it was a grinding of the mind—I asked him if he had taken any medical advice—he said physicians would be of no use—that tons of drugs could not benefit him—that in Glasgow he had observed people in the street speaking of him—they said, "That is the man," that he was considered a murderer, and the worst of characters—that everything was done to associate his name with the direst crimes—that he was tossed like a cork on the sea, that wherever he went, whether in town or country, or by the sea shore, he was perpetually watched, and followed—that at Edinburgh he had seen a man on horseback watching him—that another person there nodded, and said, "That is he," that he applied to the authorities at Glasgow for protection and relief—that his complaints were sneered at and scouted, and Sheriff Bell might have stopped the system if he would, and if he had had a pistol he would have shot Sheriff Bell dead on the spot as he sat in the Court-house—that Mr. Salmon the Procurator Fiscal, Mr. Allison, and Sir Robert Peel might have stopped the system if they would—that on coming out of the Court-house, he saw a man scowling at him with a bundle of straw under his arm—that he knew well enough what that meant, that everything was done by signs—that he had been said to be under a delusion, and the straw imported that he should lie on straw in an asylum—that in the steam-boat, on his way from Glasgow to Liverpool, he had been watched and eyed, and examined closely by persons coming near him—that they had followed him to Boulogne on two occasions—that they would not allow him to learn French—that they wanted to murder him—that he was afraid of going out after dark for fear of assassination—that individuals were made to appear before him like those he had seen in Glasgow—he mentioned having applied to Mr. Johnstone, the member for Kilmarnock, for relief, for protection, and that he had been told by Mr. Johnstone that he was under a delusion, and he was satisfied that he was under no delusion—that he had seen paragraphs in the Times newspaper with allusions pointed at him—that he had seen things in the Glasgow Herald, beastly and atrocious, insinuating things untrue, and insufferable—that he had on one or two occasions found something pernicious in his food—that he had endeavoured to study anatomy in order

to get peace, and could not find it—that be imagined the person at whom he fired at Charing-cross to be one of the crew—one of the system destroying his health.

Q. When you say "the person," do you mean that be used the expression, or did you put any name to him? A. I did not put a name to him—I think I called him "the person"—I cannot recollect the form of the question I put to him—I have no doubt I must have asked him who he conceived the person to be at Charing-cross—he said he was one of the system, one of the crew destroying his health—that when he saw this person, every feeling and every suffering he had endured for months and years rose up in his mind at once, and that he thought he should obtain peace by shooting him—all the medical gentlemen were present at this conversation, and beard what was said—I believe Dr. Bright and Dr. Sutherland were here yesterday—I do not know whether they were here all day—they were in Court—Dr. Sutherland is here now—I believe I am able to discriminate between a case where a man is labouring under delusion, and where a man feigns delusion—I am quite satisfied that the prisoner entertained the delusions he was giving utterance to—I have not the slightest shadow of a doubt on the subject—if I had heard nothing of his past history, nor the evidence given to-day, my examination in the prison would certainly have led me to the conclusion that he was insane—coupling that with the history of the two last years of his life, I have not the remotest doubt of his insanity—I am quite satisfied of it.

Q. Do you believe, judging from all the evidence, and your own investigation, and inquiry of his state of mind, that the delusion in his mind operated to the extent of depriving him of all self-control? A. I do—it was the crowning act of his delusion—it was the climax of the whole matter, the carrying out of that precise idea which had been haunting him for years.

Q. Is it now an established principle in the pathology of insanity that there may exist a partial delusion sufficient to overcome a man's moral sense and self-control, and render him irresponsible for his actions, exciting a partial insanity only, although the rest of the faculties of the mind may remain in all their ordinary state of operation? A. Yes, it is quite recognised—the distinction between monomania and general mania is quite recognised—I apprehend that monomania can exist distinct from general mania—it can sometimes unquestionably exist to the extent of overcoming a man's selfcontrol—I have no doubt that this partial insanity may exist, and the faculty that it affects may be impaired and destroyed, and yet the monomaniac exhibit all the appearance of sanity, in all other respects—the acutest reasoners on many points, good arithmeticians, good artists, and good architects—I have known great ability on those points, co-exist with disease in others—I have heard the evidence on the part of the prosecution as to his pecuniary transactions, and heard the letter read which answered the advertisement—that does not at all impair my conviction as to his insanity—I have known many lunatics keep accounts with great accuracy—persons affected on one point, where their intelligence is clear on others—it is quite manifest that such persons carry out their designs, with great ingenuity and contrivance; and afterwards, when they have done the act, they are very frequently alive to the consequences of it—they have shown great cunning in endeavouring to escape from the consequences—I have observed it every day.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Did Dr. Bright or Dr. Sutherland put any questions to the prisoner? A. They did not—I understood they were there for the purpose of being present at our examination, and it was intended they should not ask any questions; at the same time I believe

I mentioned to them both, that I should be happy to receive any suggestions—I think I have known that arrangement before in such cases—I have attended myself in this court—never when the prisoner has been examined in prison—I attended Oxford alone—nobody was with me—I never attended any prisoner here or anywhere else that I remember in presence of any other physician—I attended on the part of the Crown, but was not present when he was examined by other physicians—all the examination of the prisoner that took place was by myself, Sir Alexander Morrison, and Mr. M'Clewer—Dr. Bright, and Dr. Sutherland, were in the room the whole time while I put the questions; and on the last occasion two other physicians from Glasgow, Dr. Hutchinson and Dr. Crawford—they attended at the request of the prisoner's friends—they put questions to him; indeed they almost exclusively put questions on that occasion—they were only there once with us—the same gentleman attended them on behalf of the Crown—the statement I have given was in answer to questions—I have not put down any of the questions—when he said the person he had fired at was one of the crew, I think the question I had asked him was if he knew who he fired at, or one of the other gentlemen asked him that—I think one of the gentlemen asked him whether he considered he had fired at Sir Robert Peel—he hesitated about that, and at length he said he was not sure whether it was Sir Robert Peel or not—I do not think I put any question to him to ascertain if he knew who the person was he had fired at; but certainly in my presence it was asked him if he knew, and it was asked him more than once—he hesitated and paused, and at last stated, to the best of my recollection, that he did not know whether it was Sir Robert Peel or not—he did not say, to the best of my memory, that he should not have fired if he had not believed it was Sir Robert Peel—I have no note of that sort—I wrote my notes when I got home—the greater part of it the same evening, and the rest the next day (producing them)—I wrote what you will find on the second sheet in the room; that is, I wrote it in pencil in the room, and copied it afterwards—that is the last examination which you have in your right hand—I am not certain whether there is any thing in that about the person fired at; there is in one of them—I think it is at the close of the first—I do not remember his saying that be should not have fired if he had not thought it was Sir Robert Peel—I do not think he said that—he said the person at whom he fired scowled at him gave a scowling look as he passed him, and all his feelings rushed into his mind at once—all he had suffered for years, and he thought it would give him peace if he shot him, and he thought him one of the system—that was in answer to questions put—I did not say, "Did you think it would give you peace of mind if you had fired at him?"—I certainly avoided all leading questions—I should have said, "Do you know at whom you fired?"—I do not think I put the question at all myself—I think it was, "Did you know at whom you were firing?" and he stated he believed it was one of the system that was destroying his health—that was not at the same time that he hesitated, and said he did not know whether it was Sir Robert Peel—he said that in reply to another question—there was a good deal of repetition—perhaps it was difficult to avoid it; and the gentlemen who came from Scotland put the same questions, not knowing what we had asked before.

Q. Do you mean that you are capable of distinguishing a delusion of mind by questioning the party, that you can satisfy yourself, by going into a cell where a prisoner is, whether his mind is diseased at all? A. I believe I can, without knowing his previous history—in a great many instances I can, by ascertaining what is passing in his mind—I might mention a fact, in connexion with what you are asking—a few months

ago, in this very prison, I was called on to give an opinion respecting a prisoner who was convicted, and who was to be hung in two or three days—I saw him, with Mr. Lawrence and Mr. M'Murdo—I was to say whether I thought he was assuming insanity or not, and I came to the conclusion, feeling my responsibility very much, that he was assuming, in which we all concurred; and, to my great satisfaction, before he was hung the man fully confessed that it was altogether assumed—I think I can ascertain whether a man is really labouring under delusion, by merely questioning him, by questioning him sufficiently—there are often appearances about the body—I did not feel the prisoner's pulse, and I purposely abstained, because I all along wished he should not know I was a physician—I believe he did not know any of us were physicians—I thought there was a very wild expression about his eyes, a peculiar expression, but I do not lay much stress on that, and a dilated pupil—I do not in all instances assume, that a party is telling me truly what is passing in his own mind—I believe the prisoner was honest in his answer.

Q. I understand you to gay, that you considered the prisoner insane, to be labouring under delusion, do you form that opinion from what he told you himself, of his going to France and to Glasgow to avoid persecution? A. Yes, he gave me ample instances—I form my conclusions from that, coupled with depositions which I had seen—but I think, without those depositions, there was ample means, from my personal observation—I consider, that a person under morbid delusion is of unsound mind—if I am satisfied that any patient labours under delusion, I should certainly consider him of unsound mind—I believe the prisoner is unquestionably of unsound mind, because he was labouring under a morbid delusion respecting this persecution.

Q. Do you consider insanity may exist without the morbid delusion? A. I think imbecility may exist in various minor forms—I think insanity involves delusion generally—there are certainly various shades of it, and the effect it produces on the mind—I think a person may be of unsound mind, and yet be capable of conducting many affairs of life, pecuniary affairs in his own business, and yet betray some decided delusion, when my judgment would make him of unsound mind without that being detected—not perhaps all the duties of life, but many duties, especially the lighter ones—it may sometimes exist, and still a moral perception remain in the party—it is very common—there may be delusion of mind, and still a person have all his moral perceptions—a person may have a morbid delusion, and yet still know that thieving is a crime, or that murder is a crime, but his antecedent delusions lead to one particular offence or another—I consider this the crowning act of his delusion—it all tallies—it he had stolen a 50l. note, I should not have been able to ascertain at all, how that was connected with his antecedent delusion—I think that delusion of this nature carries a man quite away—I mean, that his mind was so absorbed in the contemplation of this fancied persecution, that he did not distinguish between right and wrong—I think a person may be labouring under morbid delusion, and still have the moral perception of right and wrong, in a great many respects—"monomania" is not of very modern discovery, but it has been more discussed of late years—I believe the very term "monomania" is a recent term—the fact that a person may be diseased in the mind on one point, is not a modern discovery, perhaps, but it has been more discussed and considered latterly than it used to be.

Q. There are some recent theories on the subject of insanity, are there not? have you ever read the works of Monsieur Marcs? A. I never have—I have frequently heard the terra "moral insauity"—I have heard of an insanity which irresistibly compels persons to commit particular crimes, and of

an irresistible propensity to thieve—Monsieur Marcs has written a book on the subject.

Q. Making a nice definition of insanity, which he calls "moral mania?" A. I understand what is intended by moral insanity, a perversion of the passions—it is sometimes called "pathomania."

MR. COCKBURN. Q. You say that partial unsoundness of mind may exist without affecting the moral perception? A. Yes.

Q. For instance, if a man fancies that he has got a pair of glass legs, and will not put them to the ground on that account, there is nothing in that which will affect the moral perception; but suppose the nature of the delusion be to excite the fierce and angry passions of human nature, is the morbid delusion then calculated to affect the moral perception? A. Certainly—looking at the whole of this case, I have not the slightest doubt that the moral perception of the prisoner was affected and impaired when he did this act.

SIR ALEXANDER MORRISON , M.D. I saw the prisoner, with Dr. Monroe, in the presence of Dr. Bright and Dr. Sutherland—I have been in Court the whole of the time that the evidence has been given for the prosecution, and defence—I was present during the whole of the examination to which the prisoner was subjected in Newgate—from that examination I came to a conclusion as to the state of the prisoner's mind—from what I have heard in the Court yesterday and to-day, my conclusion is the same now as it was then—I have heard the evidence given by Dr. Monroe—I concur with him in the conclusions to to which he has come—I believe that at the time the prisoner did the act with which he is charged, he was of insane mind—in my judgment, the nature of his insanity is a morbid delusion on the subject of persecution, as has been explained by Dr. Monroe—I believe that those delusions acted on his mind so as to deprive him of the exercise of all restraint against the act to which it impelled him—I do not speak with the slightest doubt on the subject—what has passed in Court, particularly the evidence adduced on the part of the defence, has confirmed my original impressions—I have had nearly half a century's experience in the treatment of persons labouring under different descriptions of insanity.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Do you consider the prisoner to be labouring under a delusion of the mind?A. Yes; that delusion being the apprehension or belief that he is persecuted by certain persons—I formed that opinion, before I had seen any depositions, from my examination of him in prison.

WILLIAM M'CLEWER, ESQ . I am a surgeon, and practise in London; I have been practising as a medical man for thirty years; I live in Harley-street. I accompanied Dr. Monroe and Sir Alexander Morrison to Newgate on four occasions, and was present at part of the examination of the prisoner, which has been detailed—I am decidedly of opinion that the impressions stated to exist in his mind were really felt by him—I have not the slightest doubt of it—I consider that he is labouring under delusions—I have heard the evidence which has been given to-day—looking at the whole history of the case, I am of opinion that the act committed at Charing-cross flowed from those delusions, that it was within the province of his hallucination—from the whole history of the case, and from my examination of him, I consider that in the commission of the act, he was not under the ordinary restraint by which persons in general are bound in their conduct; his moral liberty was destroyed.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Did you put some questions to him yourself? A. I did—I think I asked him if he knew who it was he had fired at—I do not remember his saying that he supposed Mr. Drummond to be Sir Robert Peel—he stated he did not know who it was

—he said had Sir Robert Peel come in his way he would have shot him—I have notes of what took place, which I took immediately after—I do not think he said that if he had known it had not been Sir Robert Peel he should not have fired—I can say that he did not say so—I was there at all the meetings—on one occasion he hesitated a good deal when the question was put to him with regard to Sir Robert Peel, and then we got out of him that had Sir Robert Peel come in his way, he probably would have shot him—I think that was at the second meeting—on the third I asked him to say aye or no would he have shot Sir Robert Peel, and he said he would—I think that was the way I put the question to him—I have notes here which were taken at the time, which I can read if you think necessary—I think he did not say, in the course of the meeting, that if he had known it was not Sir Robert Peel he should not have fired—these are my notes—(producing them)—the different days are all put together—they are not separated—I did not make them all at one time—I made the first from my memory—I think it was made on the second day after I had been there—I did not make them at the time.

WILLIAM HUTCHINSON, ESQ ., M.D. I am physician to the Royal Lunatic Asylum at Glasgow—I have been connected with the institution, first as superintendent, then as assistant physician, then as physician four years—during that time I have seen above a thousand lunatics, and treated them—I visited the prisoner on Thursday last, in the prison, in conjunction with the other medical gentlemen—I examined him by means of questions put to him—I found that he was labouring under morbid delusion of the mind—I was perfectly satisfied that those delusions were really felt by him—in my opinion those delusions were quite sufficient to account for the act with which he now stands charged.

Q. Connecting that act with those delusions, are you of opinion that at the time the man committed the act, he was capable of exercising self-control, and of resisting the impulse to which he yielded? A. He was perfectly incapable of exercising control in any matter connected with the delusion—I am decidedly of opinion that the act flowed immediately out of that delusion.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. I understand you to say that these delusions prevented him from having any control over himself; what did you mean to represent by your answer to my friend? A. That any act which flowed from his delusions was an irresistible one—the impulse was so strong that nothing short of a physical impossibility, would prevent him from performing any act which his delusion might impel him to do—the act which I understand to be referred to here, is what occurred at Charing-cross—I heard that these delusions had been formed in his mind for some time.

Q. What do you mean then by saying that he could not restrain any act that flowed from the delusion, do you mean that he would have gone out into the street at Glasgow, and shot anybody that he met? A. It might have occurred at Glasgow, the same as in London, had the disease reached the same point—I think the whole history of the case as given in evidence to-day shows that the disease had gradually increased—from what I have heard to-day I suppose that he was insane at Glasgow eighteen months ago—I take it from the time of his calling on the Commissioner of police—I think he was insane at that time—I do not think that he would at that time have been capable of resisting any impulse that flowed from his delusion—speaking in connexion with this delusion, had the same morbid notion struck him then, of doing a certain act, he would have been impelled to do it—I think that eighteen months ago he was incapable of resisting any impulse that flowed from his delusion, and as far as the evidence shows, I think that has continued up to this time—I knew that he had shot a man at the time I saw him

—if I had heard nothing more than the evidence of Mr. Wilson to-day, I should have had no hesitation in certifying that he was a dangerous lunatic—I consider him to have been so for the last eighteen months, from the date that he went to Mr. Wilson, and from that time to the present—I have heard nothing to-day to make me think otherwise—I think that it arose from a morbid delusion on his mind, that persons were persecuting him—that is a symptom of insanity which we see frequently.

MR. COCKBURN. Q. When such symptoms manifest themselves, do you think it necessary that persons should be put under restraint? A. Decidedly—it is generally the case that this disease developes itself gradually, until it attains its climax of intensity—I have known of persons labouring under morbid delusion, go on for a long time without doing harm to anybody, and then suddenly break out into a paroxysm of fury, leading to the commission of an act like this.

JOHN CRAWFORD, ESQ . I am lecturer on medical jurisprudence at the Andersonian University, at Glasgow—I accompanied Dr. Hutchinson, and the other medical gentlemen, on their visit to the prisoner on Thursday—I heard him examined and assisted in the examination—the questions were principally put by Dr. Hutchinson and myself—I have heard Dr. Hutchinson's evidence and perfectly concur with him in the opinions he has expressed with regard to the prisoner's state of mind, and in general with regard to every thing he has stated.

GILBERT M'MURDO, ESQ . I am surgeon to the goal in which the prisoner has been confined—my examination has not been reduced to writing in the usual shape by the attorney for the defence—as surgeon of the gaol I have regularly visited the prisoner, and have taken pains to ascertain the state of his mind—from my observation of him I believe him to be of unsound mind with regard to the charge for which he stands indicted—I have communicated that opinion to the prosecutors.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. What do you mean by stating that he is of unsound mind with respect to the charge? A. That he is under a delusion as to the whole circumstances which have been related to-day, as to the subject matter of this charge, that he believed he was acting in self-defence in doing that which he did, and that he acted correctly—that is my impression from continual conversations with him.

ASTON KEY, ESQ . I am surgeon of Guy's Hospital—I never saw the prisoner before yesterday—I have been in Court during the whole trial—from the facts which have been deposed to, I should refer the actions and declarations of the prisoner which have been stated, to a state of delusion which I think exempts him from responsibility—I am unquestionably of opinion from what I have heard stated, that the fatal act with which he is charged, was the result of the delusion under which he has been so long labouring.

Q. Do you think a person labouring under a delusion of this kind, and acting as the prisoner did at Charing-cross, would be under the ordinary control by which persons in general are restrained from the commission of crime? A. I think him in that particular point to have lost the control of his mind.

Cross-examined by MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. What particular point were you referring you? A. I mean the black spot on his mind, regarding delusion—I have not seen the prisoner at all—I am judging from what I have beard yesterday and to-day—I heard the account of the mode in which he conducted himself in the ordinary affairs of life—I have not turned my attention particularly to cases of insanity, but I have been occasionally employed on judicial cases, and I was here a year or two back in the case of Oxford—I think a man may be labouring under morbid delusion, and may be entirely able to distinguish between right and wrong in the affairs of life—I believe

that principle to be recognised entirely by the profession, both medical and legal—what I mean is that if the delusion impels him to any particular act, the commission of that act is placed beyond his moral control—it is possible that a person may be under a morbid delusion that by the death of another he shall obtain a large estate.

Q. Do you suppose if that person killed the other, that it would necessarily show it was beyond his control? A. I think a case of that kind, where another motive could be ascertained to have existed, would require more clear investigation; but here such a motive appears to be entirely absent—in this case my judgment is formed very mainly indeed on the absence of a motive, but not entirely—if I was aware of the existence of any other motive I should then receive the evidence with more suspicion, and it would certainly affect my judgment as to the want of control.

MR. COCKBURN. Q. You say, that in your opinion, where the act is connected with the delusion, you believe the party committing the act would not be in possession of self-control? A. I think so—judging from all the circumstances of this case, as detailed in evidence, I am most unquestionably of opinion that the act in question was connected with the delusion existing in the prisoner's mind—I think the whole history of the case affords an illustration of that theory, from beginning to end—I think a person labouring under morbid delusion may conduct himself properly in all those affairs of life which do not at all bear on the subject of the delusion.

FORBES WINSLOW, ESQ . I am a surgeon, and am author of a work on the subject of insanity. I have been in Court during the two days of this trial—I was not summoned on either side—from what I heard in evidence yesterday and to-day I felt it my duty to communicate what the result of my opinion was, on what I heard—from the evidence I have heard I have not the least doubt of the existence of the prisoner's insanity, and that the act with which he is charged was intimately connected with the delusion of mind under which he appears to have been labouring for some considerable length of time.

NOT GUILTY , being insane.

OLD COURT.—Monday, March 6th, 1843.

First Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-875
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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27th February 1843
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27th February 1843
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VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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884. SAMUEL DUNCAN was indicted for stealing, on the 25th of Feb., 1 chisel, value 1s., the goods of Robert Hughes; to which he pleaded

GUILTY .— Confined Fourteen Days.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-885
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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885. JOSHUA JONES ASHLEY was indicted for stealing, on the 14th of Feb., 4 spoons, value 4l.; and 1 fork, 1l.; the goods of John Howse, in his dwelling-house.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.

CHARLES BURGESS GOFF . I am a policeman. In consequence of instructions given me, on the 15th Feb. I watched a house, No. 3, Allington-street, Pimlico—about one o'clock in the day I saw the prisoner come out of that house—I followed him to the shop of Mrs. Emmet, on Holborn-hill, a jeweller and silversmith—I looked through the window outside, and saw him produce a parcel, apparently containing spoons—I went into the shop—I said nothing, but stood behind him—I saw him point to the back of the spoons he held in his hand, and heard him say, "'J. J. A.,' as you did the last"—he left the spoons there with the shopman, and went out—I followed and stopped him, I said, "Whose spoons are those you have left in that shop?"—he said, "Mine"—I desired him to go back to the shop with me—he did so—I was in plain clothes—I told him I was a policeman, and suspected the spoons had been stolen from the Junior United Service Club—he said, "When?"—I said, "I cannot answer that question"—I said, "I believe you were there yesterday"—he said, "I was, and am a member of that club; I have had the spoons in my possession four years, and have taken the initials out to have my own put on"—I went back to the shop, and obtained the four spoons, which I produce—I took him to the station, searched him, and found two keys and a card-case, and went

with Inspector Pearce to No. 3, Allington-street, within half an hour of my taking him into custody—while we were searching the first floor back room Hannah Storey came up—I found some drawers in the room, which I opened with one of the keys found in his pocket, and in this drawer Pearce found a small bunch of keys, one of which opened a small box in the room—I saw Pearce open it, and find a silver fork and several duplicates.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. Did you find it? A. No, I saw it found—I opened the drawer myself, I am quite sure—he said at once he was a member of the club, and these were his property—he did not say he bad taken off the club marks—he said he had taken the initials off to have his own put on, not that the initials were those of the club.

NICHOLAS PEARCE . I am an inspector of police. In consequence of information, I directed Goff to watch this house—on Wednesday, the 15th of Feb., I saw the prisoner at the station—I asked him his name and address—he said his name was Ashley, and he lived at No. 11, Stock bridge-terrace, Pimlico—I had seen him come out of a house in Allington-street, about 100 yards from there—he said, "This is a mistake; I received the spoons from Mr. Rawnson, a tailor, living at No. 11, Stockbridge-terrace, about three weeks ago"—I said, "Am I to understand you reside there now?"—he said, "Yes"—I went with Goff to No. 3, Allington-street, and saw the things found, and found the fork myself—it appears to have been filed—I found three files in the chest of drawers.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you not find out that Mr. Rawnson was the landlord of the house in Stockbridge-terrace, as well as of the house in Allington-street? A. Not that I am aware of—I never heard it—I saw Mr. Rawnson that day—I understood the prisoner to say it was Mr. Rawlinson, I found it was Rawnson—the houses in Stockbridge-terrace are larger, but I should not think more respectable, according to the appearance of the place, than Allington-street.

BENJAMIN BULLEN . I am in the employ of Mrs. Emmet, of Holborn-hill, a silversmith. I know the prisoner—I remember his coming to the shop on the morning in question—I had known him before—he brought these four spoons, and gave directions that I was to engrave "J. J. A." at the back of them—after he left the shop the policeman brought him back—I gave him the same spoons as I received from the prisoner.

Cross-examined. Q. He acted as if he was dealing with his own property? A. Perfectly so—I do not know of any portion of these spoons being claimed by any one else.

HANNAH STOREY . I am single, and live with my aunt, who keeps the house No. 3, Allington-street, Pimlico—it is her own house—Mr. Rawnson has nothing to do with it—the prisoner occupied the back room first floor, furnished—he had lived there a month—I remember the constable and Pearce coming, and opening the prisoner's box and drawer—I have no claim to the box—it was in his apartment—on the morning of the day he was taken into custody he went out between twelve and one o'clock—he had asked me for brick-dust and leather before he went out—he was told he would find it in the shed, he went and fetched it himself.

Cross-examined. Q. Yours was a ready-famished lodging? A. Yes—I do not keep the keys of the room, we never keep it locked at all—my aunt has a seventy-five years' lease of the house—Rawason is not the landlord—she pays nothing but ground-rent to the Marquis of Westminster—Mr. Rawnson is acquainted with the prisoner—I am not aware that the prisoner had his letters addressed to Mr. Rawnson's, it might be so.

WILLIAM THOMPSON . On the 14th of Feb. I was employed as extra waiter, at the Junior United Service Club, at the corner of Charles-street

and Waterloo-place, I assisted in laying the tables for dinner—I remember placing two silver spoons and a fork on one of the tables—I missed them within an hour—I know the prisoner, and saw him in the room that day—I particularly noticed his walking about the room at the time I was putting the spoons on the table—I believe he had left before I missed the spoons.

Cross-examined. Q. You saw him there, as any member might be, walking about the room, it is not very uncommon to take a walk about the room? A. No—I will swear I put two spoons and one fork on the table, between five and half-past five o'clock—I am not aware that anybody saw me do it—I do not know whether members who take things away from the club are liable to make them good, or be expelled.

WILLIAM ANDREWS . I am assistant-butler to the Junior United Service Club. The mark on their plate is "J. U. S. C." on the back—the initials on these spoons (looking at them) appear to have been filed off—this is the particular part where they always are—I do not find any traces of the mark, which was originally there, but I believe them to belong to the club—I can tell, with the assistance of a glass (using one)—I can see no trace of the mark—I missed four large spoons and a large fork on the evening of the 14th, and these are four large spoons and a large fork—this is the pattern of the spoons, the King's pattern—they were the same in every respect as these—and where I should expect to find the initials I find it has been filed.

Cross-examined. Q. Where did you miss the spoons from? A. From the pantry—I counted them at half-past eight o'clock in the evening, and found four spoons and one large fork short—these spoons are as like ours as they can be—some people mark plate on the other side—I swear positively these are our spoons—I believe them to be so.

JOHN HOWSE . I am house-steward to the Junior United Service Club—I live at the house and sleep in it—I have the charge of all the plate, and am responsible for it—I believe all these are the property of the club—there were four spoons and a fork missed on the 14th.

Cross-examined. Q. You attend there to see that every thing is kept in order, and have the general management of the concern, for the accommodation of the club? A. Yes, I am answerable for all the property—if a member had not his dinner properly served, he would remonstrate with me—it is not a very uncommon thing—I have to communicate with some of the members as to any particular accommodation I may want—I have occasionally missed a stray book or so—when that is the case, the secretary sticks up a notice in the club-room—it rests with the committee entirely, whether a member who is found doing so is expelled—he would be expelled, according to the printed rules of the club.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. You are the house-steward, and have charge of all the property? A. Yes—I have nothing to do with the rules—I neither prepare them, nor acton them, except in the preservation of the property—I have the custody of the plate, and am responsible for its safety—we had had plate taken away before—we never found out who took it—we had no proof of anybody who had taken our plate, till the prisoner was taken into custody—I am appointed by the committee—there are minutes kept of my appointment—I produce one fork and spoon, with the initials of the club on them—this is a copy of the rules of the club.

COURT. Q. Plate had been missing before, were you on those occasions called upon to make it good? A. I am liable to do so, and have done so—I was called on to make good some missing plate, and I acquiesced in it, and made it good—the last time was on a robbery of the plate in May last, and here is

the receipt—I think I made it good in June—it was long before any charge against the prisoner—he was then a member of the club.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. You do not know how that went, you merely know that plate was lost? A. Plate was lost, I cannot tell by whose hands.

COURT. Q. Who is Mr. Brathwaite, who signs this receipt? A. The silversmith to the club—I paid 11l. 14s.—in consequence of this being thought to be a robbery, I was allowed to make a levy generally upon the servants—every servant paid a portion—mine was an equal share with the rest—I cannot recollect what my share came to—there were fifty-two or fifty-three servants—all the servants in the establishment contributed—the committee looked to me to pay it, but authorized me to make all pay a part, thinking it was a robbery by a servant, to make us all careful—after the business of the club is over the plate is delivered into the care of the under-butler overnight—it is not put into a chest in his room, but in a regular strong closet in the pantry—the under-butler is appointed by the club—there is no instance of plate being missed not supposed to be taken by the servants, which I have made good—the plate is generally looked over every night, and generally three times a day, that which is in use—it is checked by a plate book, by the two under-butlers—I do not check it.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-886
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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886. JOSHUA JONES ASHLEY was again indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Oct., at St. James, Westminster, 8 spoons, value 8l., the goods of Sir James Watson, knight, and others, in their dwelling-house.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.

NICHOLAS PEARCE . I am an inspector of the A division of police. I was present when the prisoner was in custody on the 15th of Feb. I went with Goff—I asked him his name and address—he gave his name, "Ashley, No. 11, Stockbridge-terrace, Pimlico"—I asked if he meant to say he lived there—he said he did—I went there—I afterwards went with Goff to No. 3, Allington-street—Goff had a key, which opened a chest of drawers, and in a drawer I found another bunch of keys, which opened a box in the room—I found some pawnbroker's tickets in it, one of which refers to these spoons—I also found three files.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to say you said, "Do you live in Stockwell-terrace?" A. No—I said, "Where do you reside?"—he said, "11, Stockwell-terrace"—I said, "Do you mean to tell me you reside at Stockwell-terrace?"—he said, "Yes"—I knew at the time that he lived in Allington-street—I know now that he lived in Stockbridge-terrace shortly before—I have been there myself—I found Mr. Rawnson there—I heard the prisoner lived at Stockbridge-terrace—it is seldom a prisoner is taken but I ask his name and address—I knew bis name and address, but it is the custom at the station, before the charge is entered on the charge sheet, to put the question—it was at the station, where we enter the name and address, that I put the question—that address was entered on the charge sheet.

CHARLES BURGESS GOFF . I am an officer. I searched the prisoner on his being taken into custody—I found a key on him, which opened a chest of drawers.

Cross-examined. Q. What was taken from the drawers? A. A small bunch of keys—I think it was from the first long top drawer—I saw the box opened and the things taken out.

JOHN COTTON GRINLEY . I am in the employ of Page and Kennedy, pawnbrokers. I produce eight table-spoons pawned at our house by the prisoner, on the 24th Jan., in the name of "Mr. Jeffries, owner and lodger, No.

11, Stockbridge-terrace"—this is the counterpart of the duplicate I gave him—I advanced 7l. on them—I thought it right to make inquiry before I advanced the money, and I went to No. 11, Stockbridge-terrace.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure be is the person who came? A. Yes—I afterwards went to the station, I saw him and was quite satisfied of him—I found him to be a person very likely to have spoons of his own—I believed them to be his own after inquiry—I took a constable with me, and the prisoner also to Stockbridge-terrace to make inquiry—he was present when I made the inquiry—these spoons are the double shell threaded patterns—there are many of this pattern—they are rather larger than common, but not for nobleman's spoons—the work on these might be 3s. a spoon, independent of the silver and duty—the erasure is where I should expect the mark to be put, the hall-mark being at the back—the erasure is in front—it is not commou for us to see plate erased like this—we frequently have plate brought to us to have initials taken out and to engrave ourselves—it is not usual to bring them in this rough mode.

MR. CLABKSON. Q. If the prisoner should be found to have taken this quantity of plate, your master will lose his 7l.? A. He will—there appears on all these spoons to have been a filing off, either an initial or a name—it appears to have been done with files, and very badly—that excited my suspicion and made me make the inquiry.

HANNAH STOREY . I live at No. 3, Allington-street, Pimlico. The house belongs to my aunt and myself—the prisoner lodged there last January—I remember the officers coming there—they went into the room the prisoner occupied—he had lodged there a month the day the officers came, which was on the 15th of Feb.

Cross-examined. Q. What day did he come to lodge with you? A. It was in January, and on a Wednesday—I cannot say the day of the month—he was lodging with us on the 24th of Jan.—Mr. Rawnson sent his servant to take the lodging for him—he was going to leave our house in two or three days, and was going back to Mr. Rawnson's.

MR. PRENDERGAST to JOHN COTTON GRINLEY. Q. When you went to Mr. Rawnson's, you found out what the prisoner's name really was, did not you? A. I did not ask his name—I understood his name was Jeffiries, he told me so—his name was not mentioned at Mr. Rawnson's.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. What did you say about him? A. He said, "This is my landlord, I lodge here"—he was discharged from the station, and brought the spoons back to me a second time, and then he said his name was Jeffries, I had said nothing about his name before that.

HUGH SUTHERLAND . I am under-butler of the Army and Navy Club, in St. James's-square—Sir James Watson is the secretary. I bad the cleaning of the plate—I believe this plate to be the property of the club, it is the double shell threaded pattern—in Oct. last, the Junior United Service Club had the use of our club-house, as their own bouse was under repair—they had the privilege of coming and paying for what they had—on the 1st of Oct., last year, I saw the prisoner at the club, and I saw him on the 9th, at the dumb waiter, as you go into the coffee-room—I missed six spoons on the 9th, and two on the 2nd of Oct.—our spoons are marked in the front, the hall-mark is at the back—our mark is a crest with a sword and anchor, and "Unitae fortia"—the place where these spoons are filed is where the crest and motto of the club were.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to swear to the spoons? A. Yes, here is a portion of the crown left remaining—there is a crown on our spoons above the sword and anchor—I speak to the whole being the same pattern,

and made in the same year—here is part of the mark where "Unitae fortia" was and here is part of the crown—here is a pattern spoon, where you can see it—I find part of the mark on most of them—here is one in particular that has the cross belonging to the top of the crown—I recognise that mark—I did not shake my head at the prisoner at the police-office, or express any feeling against him—I was happy to see the spoons again—I looked at the prisoner and said, "That is the man, I should say in my own heart"—I speak to the patterns and the year the spoons were made, in 1837—I know the year by the letter of the hall-mark—those who are judges know the year, I do not know it, except from the silversmith.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you see the initials M C on the pattern spoon? A. Yes, and also on all the others, and the letter O—the hall stamp is exactly the same on the pattern spoon as on the others—I have no doubt these are the eight spoons belonging to the club.

HENTRY HANLIER HATCH . I am waiter at the Army and Navy Club in St. James's-square—Sir James Watson, Knight, is one of the members of that club—he was so in October last—there are other members.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know Sir James Watson? A. Not personally—I do not know, in fact, that there is such a person.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Be so good as to explain, you told me he was a member of your club? A. He is, but I have not seen every member of the club—I only know that he pays his subscription annually and regularly—I know we have a member of that name.

COURT. Q. Do you know the fact of a subscription being paid in that name? A. I do.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. All that you know, I suppose, is from some book in your possession? A. Yes, in that he is returned as paid, from the treasurer of the club in common with all others, the mode in which all subscriptions are paid—I do not receive any money myself—I can only speak from books—I have never seen Sir James Watson, to my knowledge—I have heard that he is a Knight Commander of the Bath—I have seen it in the army list.

JOSEPH WORMALD . I know Lieut.-Col. Sir James Watson—he is a member of the Army and Navy Club.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know him? A. Yes, I have seen him at the club—he is colonel of the 14th Foot—he is called Colonel Sir James Watson—I do not know that he is a knight or a baronet—I have frequently heard him spoken of, and as Knight Commander of the Bath.

HENRY HANLIER HATCH re-examined. I have frequently heard Sir James Watson spoken of as a trustee, and as knight commander of the Bath.

MR. PREDKRAST. Q. Do you mean you have heard people say he was a Knight of the Bath? A. I have always understood him to be so—I have frequently heard him spoken of as a Knight Commander of the Bath—I have been directed to write to him with reference to Bank-stock, stating that funds were to be invested in his name, and the committee have told me what to call him—I have written from the committee—I cannot say that I have precisely received their directions to write to him in a particular way, but I have frequently written to him in that way.

COURT. Q. Have the letters so addressed been acted upon? A. They have—he was proposed and seconded as a member by that name—strangers occasionally dine at the club on invitations.

(Major M'Lean, Richard Cannon, Kensington-terrace; John Burton, secretary and actuary of St. Pancras savings' bank: Francis Ferguson, assistant to the military secretary to the commander-in-chief, 35, Dorset-place,

Dorset-square; and William Leonard Coleman, of the war office, residing at Brixton, deposed to the prisoner's good character.)

GUILTY of stealing only.— Transported for Seven Years.

(There were seven other indictments against the prisoner.)

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-887
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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887. THOMAS TAYLOR was indicted for embezzling two sums of 4l. and 4l. 4s., which he had received on account of David Elwin Columbine, his master.

MESSRS. ADOLPHUS and PRENDERGAST conducted the Prosecution.

WM. JAMES GOWAR . On the 14th of Oct. last I paid the prisoner 4l. on account of Mr. D. E. Columbine, and he gave me this receipt—I saw him write it.

DAVID ELWIN COLUMBINE . I am a solicitor, and live at Carlton-chambers, Regent-street; the prisoner was my clerk—I parted with him in Jan. last—he had been with me upwards of two years—there was no imputation on his honesty when he left me—I was to receive 4l. quarterly on account of a Mr. Thornton, a client of mine—the prisoner never gave me the money Darned in this receipt, nor brought it to my account in any way whatever—I never had any conversation with him about it—I addressed a letter on the subject, which I delivered in the clerk's office—I do not know what became of the letter—in Dec. last I was indebted to the actuary of the Guardian office, originally four guineas—I gave the prisoner a cheque to pay that—I have the cheque here returned to me as paid—it is for 5l.—I have since had to pay that four guineas over again—the prisoner never stated that he had kept back the four guineas, and he had no reason for doing so—I have since paid the money to Mr. Davies.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. You have not said whether the prisoner was authorized to receive money on your account? A. Not generally—I had another clerk who had been with me a longer period—I did not have that clerk before the Magistrate—I recommended him to appear if he had any regard for his own character—his name is French—I gave the prisoner the 5l. cheque on the 7th of Dec.—he was to get it cashed, and pay Mr. Davies four guineas, or three guineas, as the case might be, and there was some other little amount he was to pay for the office, and to account to me for the balance—I do not know where French is—I believe he lives in Warwick-street—I did not cause his name to be put on the back of the bill—the officer asked if he was there—I said, I had no means of compelling him to appear—he was not bound over—a discussion took place before the Magistrate, and the case stood over—the prisoner alleged on the first examination that he had paid the money to French—I told French if he had any regard to his character he should appear—I have sent to him to come here—I have not subpœnaed him—I have used every means I could to get him—I have applied to him on other matters—I had great reason to complain of his conduct, and I do not think he would come near me—I have taken the trouble of sending, and recommending that he should see me at my private house any evening or morning, that I might have communication with him on this and other subjects—I cannot say that he was a drunken profligate fellow—I did not know of his habits, till shortly before I discharged him—I have never seen him drunk in my life.

Q. Did you discharge him for irregularity in his accounts? A. I complained very much that his disbursement book was in arrear—I have no doubt if his books were properly made up, at the end of the year he would be a defaulter.

MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Having this knowledge of his character, and under the circumstances, have you issued a subpoena to bring him here? A. I have

not—I thought he would evade the service of a subpœna, but might come on a message—I never saw him but once after he left the office, till he appeared before the Magistrate.

WILLIAM THOMAS HAYWARD . I am clerk to the London and Westminster Bank, Waterloo-place. I paid this cheque—I have frequently seen the prisoner present cheques from Mr. Columbine—I cannot say that he presented this—I gave 5l. in coin for it—I did not give a note—I cannot say whether there was any silver.

GRIFFITH DAVIES . I am actuary to an insurance company. 4l. 4s. was to be paid to me in Dec. last, by Mr. Columbine—some of it was due in Aug., and some in Oct.—the whole was due in Dec. last, and not paid—the prisoner has never paid me tbat money—I bad it from Mr. Columbine some time in Jan.

FRANCIS ELDRED . I am in Mr. Columbine's office—I have the letter book here which is kept of all the letters sent from the office—here is a minute of two letters sent to Mr. Gowar—the first on the 5th of Dec.—that letter was sent into the office, and I entered it—the prisoner took possession of it, I am quite sure—it bore no direction—Mr. Columbine I believe was not aware where the party lived—I being a stranger in the office did not know where he lived, and asked the prisoner the direction—he took it as I thought with the intention of directing it—I asked him when I was going to the post office if I should post that letter, and he said he should post it himself.

MR. GOWER. I did not receive any letter dated 5th of Dec.

MR. COLUMBINE re-examined. I understood him solely to apply his statement of paying French, to the 4l. received from Gowar.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Will you swear he did not say he had handed over the cheque to French? A. Oh, he did not state that—I will swear that—I began with the charge for 4l.—I believe I had not named both, before he said anything about French, to the best of my recollection—I swear I had not—the charge was confined to the 4l.—I preferred both charges on the same occasion, bat it was when I had gone into the first, that he said that—when he heard the first charge he referred to French—I swear that—I believe I am not under any mistake—I might have said there were two charges—his observation, as well as I understood, certainly did not refer to the cheque as well as the 4l.

COURT. Q. You did get French before the Magistrate once? A. Yes, but some witnesses were not there, and the examination was postponed to a subsequent day—French was examined, but bis deposition was not taken down.

MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. You went before the Magistrate, intending to make two charges? A. Yes—Mr. Hardwicke was the Magistrate—it was after the first charge of the 4l. that the prisoner made the observation about French—I had not, at that time, entered into any detail about the four guineas—I afterwards attended again before Mr. Hardwicke—there were two or three examinations—the depositions were not taken down till the last meeting—the clerk did not take down French's examination—it was a different clerk—it was a more experienced clerk who wrote at the time the depositions were taken—before that, my impression is that only one or two memorandums were taken—French was sworn and gave evidence.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-888
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

888. THOMAS TAYLOR was again indicted for feloniously forging and altering, on the 21st of Nov., an acceptance and receipt for 18s., with intent to defraud David Elwin Columbine.—2nd COUNT, for uttering the same, knowing it to be forged.

MESSRS. ADOLPHUS and PRENDERGAST conducted the Prosecution.

DAVID ELWIN COLUMBINE . On the 17th of Nov. 1842, I gave the prisoner

a cheque for 8l. 6s. 6d. to pay various sums which were not strictly office business—it was a little out of the regular course—among other things there was one sum of 15s. due to Mr. Nicholls, the printer, to be paid—I directed the prisoner to pay that 15s. to Mr. Nicholls out of the cheque—I gave him five or six bills amounting to that sum, and that was one of them—some time after, the prisoner gave me several receipts, or vouchers, including a voucher for this 15s.—this is it—he presented me the bill with this receipt attached—it was then as it is now, except the words in brackets—it was without those words—after giving me this receipt the prisoner quitted my service—Mr. Nicholls then applied to me for the money, and I paid him—I subsequently found this receipt, and, observing that it was for the same sum I had paid, I sent to Mr. Nicholls for his explanation—when I sent it to Mr. Nicholls, it had not the words on it included in the brackets, but it bore them when it came back—in other respects it is in the same state in which it was when given to me by the prisoner.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you got the other bills that you gave him? A. Yes, all but one—they were all paid, with this one exception—I have got the five here—the prisoner did not give me the vouchen for a day or two after I gave him the cheque—I then asked for them—it was, probably, two or three days after—I do not think it was more than that—it was not much more—I will swear it was within a week—he gave me the receipts at my chambers, I believe, in the afternoon, among others—Mr. Nicholls sent to me about the period that I discharged the prisoner, which was in January.

Q. When you first made any charge against the prisoner, before you gave your evidence, did you mention this charge also? A. I mentioned it between the 4l. charge and the 5l. charge—French left me in January, I think before the prisoner—they both left me in the same week—I am not sure whether French left before, or after, the prisoner—they both had notice together—I will not say positively whether the prisoner left first—I have frequently complained of irregularities in French's conduct—I cannot say positively that he was a defaulter when he left me, because his book was not made up—I believe that the monies paid to him exceeded the amount of his disbursements, and that the balance would be in my favour, but up to the time I discharged him I had no right to doubt his honesty—I did not know that he had been guilty of anything improper, or of any fraud—I do not know that he was a defaulter—he told me, on his accounts being made up, at the end of the year, that the balance would be in my favour—up to the time of his appearance before the Magistrate, I did not know that he was a defaulter.

COURT. Q. At this moment do you know as a fact or only conjecture, that be is a defaulter, that he has omitted to pay over to you monies due to you? A. I believe he has not, as far as my knowledge goes, omitted to pay over money due to me—it is merely that the amount received from me for the purpose of the disbursements of the office, exceeds the sum he has expended, and strictly speaking, he ought to pay it back to me, or he would have a balance in hand, which at the end of his employment he should return to me.

MR. CLARKOSON. Q. The prisoner kept no books did he? A. No—French kept his disbursement book, but nobody ought to receive any monies as payments without handing them over to me—French received money from me to enable him to carry on the business by making payments—I have not been out of town for some time—I was out of town in Jan.—I do not recollect that I went out of town between Nov. and Jan., I do not think I was—my business occasionally takes me out of town—I have not been out of town for the last four or five months—I do not think I was out of town at the latter part of Nov.—I can only swear according to my recollection and belief, I do not recollect it—I will swear I was not out of town in the middle of

Dec. for a week—I do not recollect it, nor was I in January last—I have not been out of town since Jan. twelve months, not for any length of time—I have not been out of town, and left French to manage my business—I was not out of town in Nov., Dec, or Jan., last—French was certainly not a defaulter to my knowledge, more than once, or twice, or thrice, in my establishment.

COURT. Q. A defaulter, that is, that he has received money for you, which be has not accounted for, not that he held a balance for you of your own money? A. I cannot draw the distinction—in that view I do not know that he is a defaulter up to this moment.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you ever discharge him before the last time? A. I have given him notice once or twice—I did not discharge him—he did not leave my employment—it was a very short time before he left, that I gave him notice—I cannot speak to the precise period, but on the Saturday when be ought to have left me, I found he had conducted himself very well during the week, and I said out of regard to his family I would give him one more trial—he remained three days after that—I had once before talked of parting with him, more than a year ago—those were the only two occasions.

Q. Did you not, after giving him notice to leave your service, take him into your service again, and yourself retain out of his wages the amount of his defalcations from week to week? A. think I lent him 10l., and told him to deduct so much out of his salary, to charge a lesser sum instead of a larger sum—I think at the end of the previous year there was a small balance, and he had a little more money given to him to set him right, and it was to meet that, according to my recollection, that the diminution of his salary was to take place; and I have done the same thing with the prisoner—I did not, after giving French notice to quit, take him on again, and make an arrangement with him that his deficiencies should be deducted out of his salary, week by week—there was a deduction made from his wages, not for a malappropriation—I think there was a balance in my favour, and to meet that balance, he was to charge a smaller salary—the disbursements did not equal the sum in his hands—it frequently happens that a person keeping books loses money, by omitting to put all the entries down—I know a person named Thomas David Lloyd.

Q. Had you ever any authority from a person named Owen, of New Bond-street, to bring an action against anybody for 500l.? A. had an authority from a friend of Mr. Owen's to bring an action, and Mr. Owen has subsequently questioned that authority—it is the subject of inquiry at the Court of Chancery at present—I had no other authority than the supposed authority of his friend—I did not know Mr. Owen at that time—Mr. Muddiman is the name of the friend—he was a client of mine, and Mr. Owen was his friend—my Lord, I am perfectly willing to answer these questions, but I apprehend there are other objects ulterior to these proceedings, therefore I crave your indulgence.

COURT. Q. Do you mean that there is some inquiry pending in a supeperior Court on this very subject? A. There is—there is a suit now pending in Chancery—I see behind the learned counsel, gentlemen who have nothing to do with these proceedings, but who have been opposed to me for years, and I know there are other objects in view.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. When and where did you receive authority from Mr. Muddiman to bring this action for 500l., in the name of Mr. Owen? A. On the 16th of August, 1841, at my own chambers, nobody was present but myself and Mr. Muddiman—Mr. Muddiman received a sum of money for me, and he told me that the bill had been in Mr. Owen's hands—I called on Mr.

Owen on two occasions—I believe I called on him before I brought the action—I believe I called on him the same week, whether it was before or after the writ was issued I do not know—I did not see him—my belief is, that Mr. Owen was aware of my bringing this action immediately—he did not tell me to quit his house, and say I ought to be ashamed of myself for bringing an action without his authority—I did not know that Mr. Wynne Williams was Mr. Owen's attorney, till Mr. Owen told me so, a long time afterwards—Mr. Owen was served with a subpoena in Chancery, and I then called on him—that must have been two, three, or four months after I brought the action—I did not communicate to Mr. Owen that I had brought the action in his name, for four months after I had brought it—I saw his friend two or three times, and I called twice on Mr. Owen, and on neither occasion did I see him—I did not furnish him with any knowledge that I had brought this action in bis name, till he was served with a subpoena—my communication had always been with Mr. Muddiman, except on the two calls that I made—I did not call on Mr. Owen, and ask him to permit me to appear for him to that subpoena—I will explain—after being served myself with a subpœna, I sent the prisoner to Mr. Owen—I saw Mr. Owen myself a week or some days afterwards, and Mr. Owen had then appeared.

Q. Did you ask Mr. Owen, on any occasion, to permit you to appear for him? A. I might have offered to appear, but Mr. Owen said he had put the matter into the hands of Mr. Williams, his solicitor, and I wrote Mr. Williama's address down—Mr. Owen was annoyed at being served with a subpoena, but he never desired me to leave his house—he made some complaints about the action—I believe he did not say that I had been guilty of gross misconduct in making use of his name without his authority, and request me to leave the house—I cannot call it to my recollection—I swear it to the best of my recollection—I will swear he did not use that precise language to me—he might have complained of it—he did not complain of gross misconduct—he said he was not aware of the action—he was very much annoyed at it—Mr. Owen was a party to the suit, because he was the holder of the bill of exchange.

Q. Did you not know at the time you brought the action, that Mr. Owen had not the smallest interest in the bill, of any kind whatever? A. I think I have shown that I have no unwillingness to answer questions properly; but the person in whose employ the prisoner is knew all the matters that were going forward—this is an inquiry which, I humbly submit, ought not to be made—I am not objecting to that particular question, but to the whole course of the examination—I will answer the question—I did not know that Mr. Owen was the holder of a bill of exchange, and up to a late period I believed there was a proper understanding between him and Mr. Muddiman.

MR. ADOLPHUS. Q. Had you or not a confidence in Mr. Muddiman that he was entitled to desire you to bring an action? A. Unquestionably so—I knew him as a friend of Mr. Owen's—he had been a client of mine for some time—it is not true that Mr. Owen turned me out of doors, or desired me to go out—I am very sorry there has been any misapprehension on that subject—the bill in Chancery has been answered—this is the paper which the prisoner put into my hands as an acquittance for the 15s.—(read)—"Received of Mr. Columbine, the sum of 18s. for J. Nicholls: W. Alderson, (July 30th, received 8s. 6d.)"

WILLIAM ALDERSON . I was in the employ of Mr. Nicholls, a printer, and left a week before Christmas—the words "Received of Mr. Columbine, the sum of 8s. 6d. for J. Nicholls: W. Alderson," on this receipt, are my writing—I know that there was a bill of 8s. 6d. paid by the prisoner to me at some former time, and this receipt was given for it—the figures have been altered

—it would be difficult to say in what way—there is some resemblance of a 5, and yet it may be construed into an 8—the 6 has been converted into an 0, that I will swear—when this paper came from my hands, I am sure it was a receipt for 8s. 6d. only—I will not swear it was part of the same piece of paper as the bill—it has an appearance of paper like the bill, but I may be mistaken—I know nothing of the writing in the bracket.

Cross-examined. Q. When did this transaction take place? A. I have a book which contains an entry made on the same day by myself—(referring to it)—it was on the 30th of July, 1842—this is one of our bills pinned to it—it was for goods had subsequent to the payment of the 8s. 6d.—I cannot precisely say in what month—it amounts to 15s.—I do not know how the forged receipt came to be pinned to that—Mr. Columbine produced the receipt pinned to that bill when I went to his office, in consequence of some mistake having been discovered—I have said that the receipt I gave was at the bottom of a bill of parcels, but subsequently I have turned it over in my mind, and thought I might possibly be mistaken in that; therefore I would not venture to swear that, though I believe it to be so—I have never any recollection of giving a receipt on a piece of paper separate at all—Mr. Nicholls' bills have a printed head, and are on the same kind of paper.

COURT. Q. You were in Mr. Nicholls's service in Sept., at the time the 15s. bill refers to? A. Yes—the prisoner never paid me that sum of 15s.—this is a receipt which I gave him at another time for 8s. 6d.

JOHN NICHOLLS . This paper was handed to me by Mr. Columbine, and the part in brackets was afterwards inserted by me as a note, or piece of information.

COURT. Q. Did you ever receive the amount of 15s. or 18s. from the prisoner in respect of any bill? A. No. NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 7th, 1843.

Second Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-888a
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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888. CATHERINE WILLIAMS was indicted for feloniously assaulting James Bourne, on the 11th of Feb., cutting and wounding him upon the face, with intent to maim him.—Three other COUNTS, stating her intent to be to disfigure, disable, and do him some grievous bodily harm.

MR. WYLDE conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BOURNE . I am clerk to Mr. Passenger, a china-dealer, and live in Friar-street, Black friars. Mr. Passenger had bought some houses in Tash-street, Gray's Inn-lane—the prisoner occupied one of them, No. 30—on Saturday, 11th of Feb., I went to that house with Rutter, who is in Passenger's employ, and Manning, a carpenter—I went up stairs with them, to three men who were in the house—I had some conversation with them, came down to the foot of the stairs, and asked which was the woman's door, meaning the prisoner's door, and what was her name—one of the parties on the stairs immediately replied, "Williams"—at the same time the door of the back room was opened by the prisoner, who said yes, her name was Williams, what business had I there, or what was it to me—I told her I had been sent by Mr. Passenger to remove the doors—she then commenced abusing me, called me a snotty little whelp—she was very angry and violent indeed, and raised her hands to strike me, but I prevented her doing that, by striking her, and seizing her by the wrist—this was in the passage—she struggled to get at me—I held her a short time, then let her go—she went into the room—I followed her in

—she again rushed at me, as I was standing between the door and the centre of the room—I succeeded in taking her by the hands, and turned round to see what the carpenter was doing—he was standing still—I said, "Make haste, let us have these doors off"—I then pushed her from me, and she appeared to go into a fit—she screamed, "Murder" very loudly several times—the things in the room were her own property, and there were two children in the room—there might be three—I then noticed her feeling in her dress—she then rushed at me, and made a blow at me again, which I parried off, by pushing her off—she rushed at me again, and I received a blow on my left check—the carpenter was at this time taking the door off—I was then about to strike her, when Rutter laid hold of my arms, and said, "Don't strike the woman"—she threw herself from me—I perceived, as she retired, she had something pointed in her right hand—I then found 1 was wounded just below my eye—the two wounds now on my eye are what I received—I immediately said, "I am stabbed"—the carpenter then asked me if he should continue his work—I told him to proceed, and I would get a policeman—she was then taken into custody—when I returned from having my wounds strapped up, I said I thought I had been stabbed with scissors—she said there were no scissors there, but it was with her finger nails—no scissors were found, that I am aware of—she made some remark, which was a threat, as I fancy, as the answer I made was I thought she had done enough already—she said she wished it had been into my lights—she was in a great passion—she said at the station that I had broken the window, and a piece of the glass cut me—I had not been near the window.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. There were six of you altogether?

A. Yes—before anything took place, I said, "I have come from Mr. Passenger, to take off the doors; there does not appear to be a proper understanding between you; we have been here before, and we are determined to do what we have come to do"—while I was holding her hands, I said to the carpenter, "Come now and take the doors off"—she did not tell the policeman she would give me in charge—she showed a slit in her gown sleeve—I do not remember throwing her hand from me, or saying, "Now we have done what we want, you may go"—I did not say, if I had been there in the morning, the work should have been done—some men had been there before, and the prisoner had driven them away—I did not say, "Now you may get up, I have conquered you."

MR. WYLDE. Q. She said she would give you in charge, was that after you had given her in charge? A. Yes—I had not been there before.

WILLIAM RUTTER . I am a traveller to Mr. Passenger, and live in George-street, Blackfriars-road. I accompanied Bourne to the house in Tash-street—when we knocked at the door, one of our party opened the door—we proceeded up stairs to the top room, and found three men who had been there—we came down to the foot of the stairs—Bourne asked, "What is this woman's name?"—she immediately opened the door, and said what was it to him, and began abusing him, and struck at him with a push—he laid hold of her hands, to prevent her striking him—he held her hands two or three minutes, and by that time they had got into the back parlour, this having happened between the doors in the passage—when they got into the room, he let go of her hands, and told the carpenter to proceed to take the door off—he had told her before that he had come to take the door off—Bourne and I were in her room, and the carpenter at the door—the other three were either on the stairs or in the passage—she first made the attack on Bourne when he was in the passage—she did not bid him go out—she was determined he should not take the doors off, I suppose—she struck Bourne—he did not retreat to avoid

her—he could have gone away—I saw her stab him—I thought it was with scissors—I saw an instrument in her hand—I saw the point—it was larger than a large knitting needle—I saw the wound on his face.

Cross-examined. Q. Did not you take up a chair, and threaten to knock her eye out? A. No—I will swear it—when Bourne returned after his wound was dressed, he got in at the window, which we had taken out in the meantime—she began abusing him, and said she had given him one wound, and would give him another—I said, "I hope you will not have an opportunity of doing it"—she then threatened, and I said, "If you come near me I will knock you down with a chair"—I did not take up a chair.

THOMAS BENJAMIN HOPKINS . On the 11th of Feb., about five o'clock, Bourne came to my surgery—his face was covered with blood—I found two wounds on the left cheek, the lower one immediately over the cheek-bone, from three-quarters to an inch long, nearly an inch deep, proceeding down towards the mouth—it was a clean cut wound—the other was immediately under the eye, about an inch from the other—the lower one soon got well—the upper one was contused and ragged, and evidently produced by a blunter instrument than the other—it could not be from the finger-nails—there was no danger from either, but considerable inflammation round the eye.

THOMAS YOUNG . I am a surveyor, and live in Queen-street, Cheapside. I have been to the house the prisoner was in possession of, and endeavoured to get possession—I first went the day after we had paid for the houses, or the next day, and was much surprised to find her in the house, as I understood from the vendor that she had left, as the attorney gave me a new key to the house—I opened the door, and found her there—she said she could not get a place to go to, and begged I would allow her to stop a little longer—I said, under the circumstances, she having a family, she might stop a week, if she would promise to go out that day week—she said, "Certainly, I will"—at the end of the week I found her still there—she begged for another week, and at the end of that week she was still there—I said it was very wrong, I must really put her out into the street—she said I dare not do that, the house was hers yet as much as Mr. Passenger's, and she should not go out at all—I did not propose any terms for rent—on the 3rd of Feb. I went to take possession—she had come to me a week or two before my calling on her, and said she should not go—I said if she did not I should certainly come and put her goods and family into the street, it was a great pity she had been so advised and did not go—I went on the 3rd of Feb.—she was not at home—I went in with two or three men, one man at first, and saw her eldest daughter—while there she came in, she went into a violent passion, and said what right had I there—I said I had come to put her out, and put her out I should—she said she would murder me, if she was hung for it—she took a knife out, and came towards me, but her daughter prevented her doing anything.

Cross-examined. Q. How many children were there there? A. Seven—I went as the agent of Passenger—I was not present when the windows were taken out—I did not take in a bed and bedstead—I believe it was taken on the same day—I took one man with me, and he went in—there were seven men afterwards, I believe—I think they all staid in the house that night—I do not know that they used her furniture—this was on the 3rd of Feb.—there may have been ten men in the house altogether.

JOHN ARCHER . I am a policeman. I took the prisoner into custody.

Cross-examined. Q. Did she say to you, "He has torn my gown, and I will give him in charge for what he has done to me?" A. She did—I searched the room for scissors, but found none—one arm of her gown was torn.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-889
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence; Not Guilty > unknown

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889. JOHN BROWN and MARY BROWN were indicted for stealing, on the 6th of February, at St. Dunstan's, Stebonheath, alias Stepney, 1 purse, value 2s. 6d., and 6 sovereigns, the property of Sarah Mackrow, in her dwelling-house.

SARAH MACKROW . I am a widow, and live in Catherine-street, Lime-house-fields, in the parish of Limehouse. On the 6th of Feb., at night, I went to a box, which I kept on my first floor landing, to get some money, and found the lock had been broken, and from a small box inside that I missed a purse and six sovereigns, which I had noticed were all new, and of the present reign—I had seen them safe on Friday, the 3rd—the box had been opened by a key—the prisoners lodged in the house—they came home that night between eleven and twelve o'clock, in a cab, and were not sober—they had lodged with me nine days, in an unfurnished room—I did not have any character with them—the man represented himself as a bricklayer, but did not go out while there till very late in the day, and not at all on Wednesday—I left my son in the house, on the 6th, when I went out between five and six—I returned at seven—he is thirteen years old.

Cross-examined by MR. WYLDE. Q. Did they live as man and wife? A. I took them in as such, but have heard since they are not so.

HENRY COTTEN (police-constable K 361.) I was called to Mrs. Mackrow's house on the 6th of Feb.—I got there about half-past seven o'clock, and was there when the prisoners came in about eleven—they were in liquor—I took the man into custody, and told him what he was charged with—he said he had no money about him—I searched him in the presence of another constable—I found three sovereigns, 22s. 6d. in silver, and 2d., on him—the sovereigns were in an inside waistcoat pocket—it was a cloth waistcoat—he wore two—the pocket was in front of the inner waistcoat—the silver and copper were in his trowsers pocket—I searched the prisoners' room, and found this chisel, in a bag, in their cupboard, with a hammer and two or three tools—I examined the large box the prosecutrix mentioned, and found marks on it, which I applied the chisel to—it appeared to correspond with the impressions—I have the box here—(pointing out the marks)—I found nothing on the female—she was too tipsy to answer rationally—I found some duplicates in their room, one dated as late as the 4th of Feb., for 9d.—as I brought the prisoners to the station I said nothing, either promise or threat—the man said I had the money, that I might keep the money, as nobody knew anything about it but me, I might keep it and let him go—the sovereigns are new, and of the present reign—the house is in the parish of Stepney—it is eleven doors from old Stepney church.

John Brown. Q. How did you find the box? A. The lock was on, but it had been broken off previously—he said I might keep the money, and let him go, as no one would know anything about it.

GEORGE WELLS . I am an attorney. This house is in Catherine-street—the whole of that is the parish of Limehouse—I am solicitor to the hamlet of Ratcliffe, and have walked the bounds with both parishes—the road separates the parishes.

GEORGE MACKROW . I am the prosecutrix's son. I was at home when the prisoners left the house.

John Brown. Q. You were asked for the door-key, were you not? A. Yes—I went up by the box, but did not notice whether there was any thing the matter with it—you told me you were going to be out late, and asked me for the key of the door—my brother was at home—he is not here—he is a married man.

MRS. MACKROW re-examined. The chisel did not belong to me—I had never seen it—the cupboard the officer found it in was in the prisoners' room.

John Brown. It is my chisel—he found it in the cupboard—it had not been out of the bag for a fortnight. If any one will look, they will see the lock has been taken off the box twenty times; it is worn so away, any instrument night have done it—unless it has been altered since; the policeman could only find one mark at the office. The duplicates did not belong to us.

HENRY COTTEN re-examined. The Magistrate found the marks at the office—they have not been altered—I saw them the night I took the prisoners before I found the chisel—I found the duplicate on the mantel-piece in the room—it is for a tea-board, pawned in the name of Lambert.

GEORGE MACKROW re-examined. I was in the back parlour when my mother went out—the prisoners' is a back room, up stairs, on the same landing as the box—my brother was in the same room with me—I went up for the key, which is kept in the passage; but when I got up, it was down in the room I was sitting in—it is usually on the passage ledge, and I went up for it, thinking I had put it there some part of the day—the prisoner asked for it between six and seven o'clock, after my mother had gone out—the box stood a few feet from the prisoners' room door—nobody else lodged on that floor.

JOHN BROWN— GUILTY of Stealing only. Aged 27.— Transported for Seven Years.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-890
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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890. GEORGE BENJAMIN READ was indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Wilcox, on the 10th of Feb., at St. Luke, and stealing therein 1 shilling, 1 sixpence, 1 groat, 40 pence, 222 halfpence, and 4 farthings, the monies of said William Wilcox.

WILLIAM WILCOX . I keep the Broad Arrow, Milton-street, in the parish of St. Luke. The prisoner was formerly my pot-boy, and frequented the house since as a customer—on the evening of the 9th of Feb., after the customers had left, I went over the house to see that it was fast—the prisoner left that night about a quarter to one o'clock—I keep my copper money in a drawer in the bar—there was a shilling, a sixpence, and a fourpenny-piece there—next morning, when I came down, I found the bar doors broken open, which were locked overnight—I missed the copper and silver—the prisoner was apprehended—he was searched at his mother's house, in my presence, and 2 1/4 d. and a key found on him; and in a teapot, in the room where he was, were these coppers, a shilling, a fourpenny-piece, and sixpence—I had a penny-piece among my copper with the name "Pinning" branded on it—I had put it into the drawer the night before—the prisoner was asked how he came by that—he said he did not know—he knew where I kept my copper money—I found the drawer broken open, the parlour window-shutter open, the back door leading to the yard, and the front door leading to the court, were all open, when I came down—he must have got the steps from the back yard, and brought them round to the parlour window, where I found them in the morning—the top sash was shoved down, and he had got in at the top.

Prisoner. Q. Was any body in the house when I left? A. Several—you did not have change for 6d., nor receive a penny-piece in change—I laid this penny-piece on the shelf when I took it, and when I went to bed put it into the drawer with the rest—I found a great deal of copper money at the prisoner's—I cannot say what amount I lost, to a few shillings—his mother was not to be found when I took him—she came to Worship-street—I found exactly the silver I had lost.

WILLIAM EATON . I am in Mr. Wilcox's employ. I came down stairs at half-past seven o'clock in the morning, went to open the side door, and found

it open—I waited till my mistress came down, then opened the shop, went into the parlour, and found the top sash down—mistress said the till was broken open—I went to fetch a policeman—I found the steps outside, against the parlour shutters—the upper sash could be pulled down—the yard door was open—he must have opened the shutters of the parlour window before he left the house—I had secured them at twelve o'clock.

WILLIAM DOWNING . I am a policeman. I was on duty in Milton-street a little after nine o'clock that morning, and was fetched to Mrs. Wilcox—she produced a file to me—I took the prisoner into custody, and found a key and 2d. on him—he said it was the key of his mother's room, and she lived in Smith's-court—I went there, opened the door with the key, found this teapot on the shelf in the cupboard, and 12s. 8d. in copper money, a shilling, sixpence, and fourpence—I produce the penny-piece, which is marked.

SAMUEL CHIVERS . I am a policeman. I saw the money found—the prisoner said he knew nothing about it—we got in with the key found on him.

SARAH WILCOX . On the morning in question I found a knife, a fork, and file, against the till in the bar, where it had been broken open—they belonged to us, and were under the counter overnight—the till was marked by all those instruments—a piece of wood was broken off the till, by the fork or knife being put in at the side, and there were holes where the file appeared to have been put in to wrench it open—the prisoner had lived with us four months, and had left about three months, and went to a situation in the City-road.

Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing of the money, more than the 2d. I received from Mr. Wilcox that evening. My mother might keep money in the teapot; she had 11s. there the Sunday before. I had seen the shilling, sixpence, and a fourpenny-piece, in her hand on the Tuesday night. I lodged in Wilcox's house two nights before the robbery, having left my place.

MRS. WILCOX re-examined. He said he had no friends, and was in our house till thethird night—I had seen him go out before one on the morning of the robbery.

WILLIAM WILCOX re-examined. I found nobody in his mother's room—there were two beds there—I kept the key of the room two days, then met his mother, and gave it her—I could not find her before, she having left the place.

GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Two Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-891
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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891. WILLIAM RANGER was indicted for stealing, on the 16th of Feb., 1 ring, value 10l., the goods of Henry Peter Emans.

JAMES SAYER . I am a pawnbroker, and live in Drury-lane. On the 24th of Feb. the prisoner brought a ring to my shop and asked if it was gold—he described a young man—I went outside, and saw the prisoner there, answering the description—I called him in, and asked if the ring was his property—he said, "Yes," that he had brought it from Wiltshire—I gave him into custody with it.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. He came into the shop at your request, and remained there till the policeman came? A. Yes—it is a brilliant ring—a person not conversant with such things would not know the value.

WILLIAM TOPLET . I am a labourer, and live in Drury-lane. The prisoner lodged in the same house with me for the last eighteen months—on the 24th of Feb. he showed me this ring and said it was gold—I said it was not, I would bet him a pint of beer—I went to Mr. Sayers to ask if it was gold—he asked where I got it—I and the prisoner were both taken to the station.

HENRY PETER EVANS . I conduct the business of my father, at the Edinburgh Castle, in the Strand. This is my ring—I had it on my finger on the 16th of Feb., and, as usual, on going to bed, I took it off my finger, and put it on the dressing-table—next morning, about eleven, when I was going to dress, I could not find it, and inquired among the servants, the prisoner was employed there on the 16th assisting the cellarman—I might have taken the ring off to wash my hands in the course of the day in the kitchen, which is near where his work is—it fits me too well to fall off—the prisoner ceased to attend the house on Sunday, the 19th—I did not ask him about the ring—he must have seen me wear it.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you any recollection how the ring left your finger? A. I can only say I had it at six, and I did not miss it that night—I was not cloudy that night—I did not lock my bedroom door.

WILLIAM HINE . I am a policeman. I took the prisoner—he told me the ring was his own, but at the station he said his mother, who was dead, had given it to him nine or twelve months before.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-892
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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892. GEORGE TAPPIN was indicted for feloniously receiving of an evil-disposed person, on the 11th of Feb., 4 oz. weight of silk, value 10s.; and 9 wooden bobbins, 3d.; the goods of Charles Harris.

CHARLES HARRIS . I am a silk trimming manufacturer, and live in Pelham-street, Spitalfields. James Bryant was in my employ—I cannot say I know these nine bobbins—I do not know that I have lost any—I cannot say whether the initials on them are from my stamp—I gave the policeman a stamp, but I had no private mark on it, and cannot say whether this is it.

JAMES BRYANT . I am fourteen years old, and live in Carter-street. I was in Harris's employ up to the 11th of Feb., when I was taken into custody by Teakle, charged with robbing my master—I got acquainted with the prisoner by playing with him last summer—he asked if I could get some silk from my master—I said, "Yes"—he said if I could he would sell it for me—I stole three bobbins of silk the next day and took to him—I took eight more afterwards and gave to him—he gave me some money—I took eight more afterwards, and he gave me money for them—the last I took he said were rather small, and if I did not get them bigger next time he must take 2d. off—he had paid me 1s. 6d. for them—I afterwards took eight more and two bits—he said the eight were rather small, but the two bits made up for them—I met him that evening in St. John-street—he gave me a shilling, and 6d. in copper—he said, "Do you see sergeant Teakle under the arch?"—I said, "Yes"—I afterwards took him nine more bobbins—Teakle then laid hold of me—the prisoner ran away, and was taken by another constable—Teakle brought back the nine bobbins I had given to the prisoner—I was taken to the station, and told the sergeant I was put up to it by the prisoner.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. You told Teakle the prisoner had been the ruin of you? A. Yes—I never used that phrase to anybody else—I never told my master of this—I have been taken up before this, charged with robbing the same master, three weeks ago—I mean this time—I was never taken up before—I was in Gravel-lane about seven, on the night the Magistrate discharged me as a prisoner, and made a witness of me—I did not steal any fish there—it was the boys with me—I was taken to the station—I did not then say the boys had been the ruin of me, nor if my mother heard it she would go into fits—I cried, and the policeman let me go—I knew it was wrong to rob my master and did not mean to take any more—I did not know that Teakle was on the look-out.

GEORGE TEAKLE . I am a sergeant of the police. On the 28th of Jan. I saw the prisoner and Bryant in company in St. John-street—I saw the prisoner hand something to Bryant which I believe to be copper—I heard it sound—on the 11th of Feb. I went again to St. John-street with another officer, and saw them under the archway of the Eastern Counties Railway—they appeared in conversation—they came from under the archway—I laid hold of Bryant—the prisoner instantly ran away as fast as he could—I called "Stop thief," and Barker stopped him—they were both taken to a public-house—I searched the prisoner, but found nothing on him—I went in the direction he had run, and beyond where Bryant had been, as near the spot as possible where Barker stopped the prisoner I found nine bobbins of silk, which I produce—the prosecutor gave me this stamp—the impression on the bobbins are exactly similar to that stamp—I said to Bryant on the way to the station, "This has been going on some time; it is high time it was stopped"—Bryant said, "Yes, it was him put me up to it, or I should never have done it; he has been the ruin of me"—I consider that the prisoner was near enough to hear that—I found out Bryant's master by what he said—Harris claimed the silk—I found some copper money on Bryant—I brought a bobbin with the same mark from Harris's shop.

Cross-examined. Q. Barker is not here? A. No—he stopped the prisoner about fifty yards from me—it was about half-past seven o'clock in the evening.

CHARLES HARRIS re-examined. The stamps on these bobbins appears like mine—I cannot say positively they are mine—I sell silk at times—I cannot say whether the mark is made by my instrument—I had bobbins and silk resembling these—the stamp I gave the officer was mine.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Six Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-893
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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893. RICHARD FREETHY was indicted for stealing, on the 1st of March, 1 watch, value 1l. 5s., the goods of James Gill, his master.

JAME GILL . I am a pawnbroker, and live in Wilmot-street, Brunswick-square. The prisoner was in my service upwards of two years—on the Ist of March I spoke to him, in consequence of suspicion, and taxed him with having a watch—his mother was present—(I did not say he had better tell the truth)—he said, "Yes, sir, I have the watch"—I said, "Where is it?"—he said, "I gave it my brother to pledge for me"—I asked where—he said he did not know—I said, "Richard, where did you get that watch from?"—in a few moments he said, "I have been doing very wrong, sir, I took it from your window"—I then gave him into custody—his brother brought the watch to me next morning—this now produced is it.

Cross-examined by MR. CURWOOD. Q. Is there any maker's name to it? A. Yes, and it is No. 6206—I do not know it by the number, but by its general appearance—I recollect putting it in the window within the last few months—I never knew it to be the custom for persons in our trade to dress themselves out on a Sunday with unredeemed pledges—I never did it—the prisoner did not say that he did not mean to appropriate it to his own use, but only to wear it—I asked him to give some account of the money he had spent for the last two months—he said he could not—I said if he could not tell me I could tell him, but he might as well tell me, and save trouble—I had not spoken to him about the watch then, or about taking anything of mine.

JOHN FREETHY . I live in George-street, Battle-bridge. The prisoner is my brother—I pledged this watch for him, and got it out of pawn again—I took it the prosecutor.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you pawned it more than once for your brother? A. I had—the first time I saw him wear a watch was in July or August last year, on a Sunday afternoon—he showed it me, and asked what I thought the value of it—it resembled this watch—I pawned it on the 1st of Dec., for 1l. and redeemed it about the 4th of Jan.—I gave it him back again, and gave the money to him—I got it from him, and pawned it again—I did not see whether he wore it in the interval—I believed it to be his own watch, or I should not have pawned it.

(The prisoner received an excellent character.)

GUILTY . Aged 17.—Strongly recommended to mercy.— Confined Fourteen Days.

First Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-894
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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894. JOHN SMITH was indicted for stealing, on the 28th of Feb., 1 pair of trowsers, value 9s., the goods of Henry Davies.

CHARLES HOWELL . I live in Bosher's-court, Oxford-street—my father keeps a china and glass shop. On the evening of the 28th of Feb., I was in Oxford-street, and saw the prisoner and two others at Mr. Davies's shop, which is nineteen doors from my father's—the prisoner had hold of a pair of trowsers, which were on a rail inside the door, he pulled them down from the end of the rail outside the door—he saw me, and they all walked away towards Ann-street—I crossed over the road, and watched them—they came opposite Mr. Davies's shop again—one of the men not in custody then had the trowsers, putting them under his coat—I did not see them taken—they had just come away from the door—the prisoner was with the man at the time—they went as far as Ann-street, crossed over the road, down Charles-street, all three together, and there the other one handed them to the prisoner, who folded them up, and carried them in his hand—they went round the right hand of Soho-square, down Carlisle-street, into Deane-street—the prisoner went down Ann's-court, and the other two lost him—one of them called out "Boo"—he came back, and they all three went through St. Ann's-court together—I followed them, and when they got into Wardour-street, the prisoner went into a pawnbroker's—the other two stood outside, on the curb—the prisoner came out of the shop in five or ten minutes, and they all went into a public-house—I afterwards saw a policeman, told him, and afterwards saw them in Wardour-street, pointed them out to the policeman, and he took the prisoner into custody—the other two ran away.

Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. What is your age? A. Sixteen—I help my father in his shop—I was going towards Hyde-park—there were many others going the same way—there are a great many people in Oxford-street—I was just past Mr. Davies's door, when I saw the prisoner pull the trowsers—it was as I was passing the door—I was not quite on the curb-stone—I do not think anybody was between me and the shop—one of them was looking in at the window—the one who was taking the-trowsers had his back towards me—the third one was in the middle of the pavement—I did not see them all standing together at the shop window—when they got the trowsers they were all together—I suppose they saw me as they were taking the trowsers—I followed them till I saw a policeman—I intended to give an alarm directly I saw a policeman—I did not think it was necessary to give an alarm to the people going along—if I had gone into the shop I should have lost them—I did not lose them after seeing them take the trowsers—my object in crossing the road was to watch them—they were then at the shop—after they took the trowsers they walked away—I followed them—

they came over towards me, further down the road—they could not see me then, that I know of—people were passing by—there might be people crossing the road—there is a coach-stand there—I saw one of the other two putting something under the flaps of his coat—I did not know what that was—when they turned out of Oxford-street I turned too—I kept two or three houses behind them—they did not go very quick—it was in Charles-street they gave the prisoner the trowsers—I noticed it was cloth—it was dark—I kept following them all the way—their backs were to me when the trowsers changed hands—I kept on the same pavement with them—they went down Carlisle-street—I said Frith-street, before the Magistrate, but I made a mistake in the name—the other two were both taller than the prisoner—one had an umbrella, and the other a stick—St. Ann's-court is rather dark—there were people passing through it, I cannot say how many—I had looked out for a policeman all the way from Oxford-street, and did not meet one—there were not two passed me on the road, if there was I did not see them.

COURT. Q. How long was it between your seeing them at the shop, and the prisoner being taken? A. About twenty minutes.

THOMAS ROBSON . I am a policeman. I was on duty about seven o'clock on the evening of the 28th of Feb., and took the prisoner—Howell pointed him out to me—I found nothing but 8 1/2 d. on him—I took him to Mr. Davies' shop—I got this pair of trowsers from the pawnbroker's.

Cross-examined. Q. Are there not policemen between Mr. Davies's shop and Wardour-street? A. I should say there was—it is only a short distance—the shop is not in my beat.

COURT. Q. You walk about don't you? A. Yes.

THOMAS MARSHALL . I am foreman to Henry Davies, of No. 19, Oxford-street. On the evening of the 28th of Feb., when the policeman came I missed a pair of trowsers from a rail inside the door—we had six pairs hanging there—I had not noticed them since noon—I afterwards went with the policeman and Howell to Harrison's, in Wardour-street, and found the towsers—these are them—they are the property of Mr. Davies.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the shop at seven o'clock? A. Yes, all the evening—if anybody had made an alarm, I should have run to the door.

ALFRED RICHARD HARRISON . I am a pawnbroker, in Wardour-street, Soho. These trowsers were pledged with me on the evening of the 28th of Feb., about ten ininutes before I delivered them up, I believe by the prisoner, but I could not swear to him.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you had many persons after these trowsers were pledged? A. No; I had not served any other customer before the policeman came in.

GUILTY . Aged 27.— Confined Four Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-895
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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895. JOSEPH LONE was indicted for stealing, on the 24th of Jan., 1 cask, value 3s.; and 680lbs. weight of white lead, 6l. 18s.; the goods of Joseph Pattrick.

MESSRS. BODKIIN and WYLDE conducted the Prosecution.

JOSEPH PATTRICK . I am an oilman, living in High-street, Whitechapel. On the 24th of Jan., there were two casks of white lead lying outside in front of my shop—in consequence of what I heard I missed one—on the 27th I went to Union-street, Borough, to the house of a person named Chambers—I saw Chambers standing behind the counter, and my cask standing in front of the shop—I did not identify it then, but from the appearance of the cask I went over again in company with Foay and Argent, two policemen, and

have no question it was my cask—we afterwards went to find out a party named Potts, in consequence of what Chambers said—I left Argent at Chambers's—we went round White Conduit-fields, Islington—we could not find Potts—we found a party named Potts, but it was in a different direction—inquiries were made about a horse and cart—I did not find out the prisoner—I did not give any authority to the prisoner or Potts to remove this cask from my door.

CORNELIUS FOAY (police-constable H 98.) I was called in by Mr. Pattrick, in consequence of this lead being stolen—I accompanied him to Chambers's house, where some conversation was held about it—I afterwards went up to Islington, and inquired for a person named Potts—I could not find any one of that name—I subsequently found out the prisoner, living at St. George's-terrace, White Conduit-fields—he was carrying on the trade of a corn-chandler there—we had Chambers with us—on going into the shop, Chambers said, "That is the man I bought the lead of," pointing to the prisoner—he made no answer to that—I asked him if he had sold a cask of white lead to Chambers to Thursday (this was on Saturday—I had previously told him I was an officer, and I had not my uniform on) he said "Yes, I did"—I asked him what Chambers paid him for it—he said that made no difference to me, he supposed Chambers had told me—he did not tell me the price—I asked him who he bought it of—he said he never bought it at all, he was employed to sell it for a man living at Spitalfields—I asked him where he lived—he said, he could not tell me, he could show me—he told me his name was Harriss—I then desired him to accompany me to show me this place—he took me to Turville-street, Bethnal-green—I found there a man named Harriss, keeping a beer-shop—the prisoner said in Harriss's hearing, "That is the man who employed me to sell it"—I told Harriss I was an officer, and asked him if he employed Lone-to sell any white lead for him—he said, "I don't know the man; as for white lead, I know nothing about it"—I told him he had better go to the station, and hear what the inspector said—he said, "I will go with you any where willingly; I know nothing about the man, or anything about the white lead"—he asked me to allow him to get his coat and hat—he went into the parlour, went off another way, and I lost him (I have been an officer seven years) when I tried to get into the parlour, I could not do so, and when I did, Harriss was gone—I have never seen him since—the lid of the cask is here.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. When you went with Chambers to where the prisoner was living, did not Chambers, when he came outside the shop, say, "That is the man?" A. Yes, addressing me, he said, "That is the man I bought it of," and then we went in—that was not an observation addressed to Lone but to me, to satisfy me he was the man—when Lone went to Harriss's he pointed out another man who, he said, assisted in putting it into the cart, when he removed it for him—I did not take Mrs. Harriss into custody—she was taken—she is still under examination before Mr. Henry at Lambeth-street—Dyke, the other man that was pointed out, was also taken, and he was discharged—Mrs. Harriss is to appear again.

WILLIAM ARGENT (police-constable H 126.) On the 28th of Jan. I went to Chambers's and saw a cask of white lead there—I brought it away and have had it in my custody ever since—this is the lid of the cask.

JOHN STANLEY . I am a butcher in the employ of Mr. Cramp, of High-street, next door to Mr. Pattrick—on Tuesday evening, the 24th of Jan., I saw two casks at Mr. Pattrick's door—I saw a truck—I did not see it brought up to the curb-stone—I saw it when it was there—I saw two men endeavouring to get the cask of lead into the truck—they could not, it appeared too

heavy—I saw them try a second time—I then went up to them and said, "Do you want a lift?"—neither answered—we were in the act of lifting it on, and the hat of the man at the handle of the truck fell off and went in the kennel—he took it up and put it on his head—he never shook the wet or dirt off—he was anxious to get the lead on—we at last succeeded in getting the lead into the truck, and very unkind they were, they never spoke afterwards—I noticed the person whose hat fell off—the prisoner is the man—he had the handle of the truck—to the best of my belief he is the person—he was under my observation some time, and there was plenty of light—we have two very large lights burning—they drew the truck away, one at the handle, and the other pushing behind.

Cross-examined. Q. You never saw the prisoner before, did you? A. Not before that evening—they carried off these things in a pretty considerable hurry—I swear positively that the prisoner's hat fell off in the gutter—I believe it to be his hat that fell off—it fell off the man's head that had the handle of the truck, and to the best of my belief that was the prisoner—it was a very short crowned shiny hat, glazed, with a largish brim—he had a fustian coat, with a red handkerchief round his neck; his trowsers corresponded in colour with the coat—I cannot say that they were fustian—I believe the other man had a cap—I am not quite positive; my attention was taken to the prisoner picking his hat up while I was standing there—I should say I saw him two minutes, or two minutes and a half, from the time of their trying to get the cask in the truck—they were engaged in lifting it up a very short portion of that time, because at the first attempt we got it in.

MR. BODKIN. Q. When did the hat fall off? A. Before we lifted the cask up, and then it was I saw his face; my attention was particularly addressed to the man at the handle whose hat fell off.

GEORGE COOK . I drive a cab for another person—I have had cabs of my own—I have been in that line ever since 1833, and lived in the Commercial-road most of the time—I now live at 20, Colchester-street, Whitechapel, and have done so two years—I was with the cab in High-street on the evening this happened—I was standing nearly opposite Mr. Pattrick's—I saw a truck there, and two men standing with it—there was a barrel in it; it was being drawn across the road from the curb-stone between Mr. Pattrick's house and the butcher's shop—I had to move my horse about two yards back to let the men pass—the prisoner was at the handle of the truck—I have no doubt about him—he had a shiny hat and a fustian jacket—the other man pushed at the barrel.

Cross-examined. Q. You noticed his hat, did you? A. Yes, he had a red handkerchief round his neck—I did not notice the other man at all—I never saw him before—he appeared of a fresh-coloured complexion—this was about half-past seven.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Which of the men did you look at most? A. The man with the handle of the truck—I did not see the other one; he was behind the cask—I could see the prisoner as he was coming up to me, face to face—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man that was drawing the truck—I saw him on the Monday following, at Lambeth-street police-office, in the cell, along with ten more persons, and I recognised him at once.

GEORGE PETTIT . I am under-warehouseman to Mr. Brandon, in Size-lane, and was so in Jan. last, I remember a quantity of white lead being sent to Mr. Pattrick, of Whitechapel—I have the marking of the casks—the lid of this cask is my marking—I am aware of white lead being sent there on the 23rd.

MR. DOANE called

JOHN SPRINGBETT . I live at No. 5, Forston-street, Ashley-terrace, City-road—my brother was a coal-merchant, but is now on his way to the West Indies—he sailed this day fortnight—I manage his affairs—the prisoner was a customer of his—he owed my brother for a ton and a-half of coals—I remember his calling to pay that account perfectly well, on the 24th of Jan., about a quarter before seven o'clock in the evening—the account was two guineas—he paid it—he stopped, I should say, about an hour, or perhaps rather better—I entered the payment among my accounts in the ledger, which I have here—(producing it)—this is the entry.

MR. BODKIN. Q. Was this all written at the same time? A. No—there was the interval between the 11th of Jan., 1842, and the 24th of Jan., 1843, between the two entries—the debt was entered at the time the sale was effected, the year before—I keep the books—this is a ledger posted from other books—it is my custom to post in the ledger the following day—that has always been the case when I have entered it—when I sold anything to a customer, I posted it the following day, supposing it was not paid for—this account of "Mr. J. Lamb, in March, 1842, a ton of coals, 1l. 7s.," was posted on the 4th or 5th of March—at the time of posting the index, Lone's account was omitted, and that accounts for the long credit given for the coals, nearly thirteen months.

Q. Lone's name is the last in your index, at the bottom of the L's—how is that? A. I think I can find you more, similar to that—here is the name of Hall, 28th of March, at the bottom of one of the other pages; and a few pages forward is the name of Heppel or Hicks—you are referring to the folios—these entries of Lone's were most decidedly not written at the same time—this book refers to my brother's coal trade—he has now got an appointment under the East India Company—the business was carried on at No. 34, Basinghall-street—it stopped last March—my brother has left me to get in what debts are outstanding—this is the only book I have had left with me—my house is near the National Baths, in Shepherd and Shepherdess-fields—I have lived there fifteen months, and am the house-keeper—my brother took the waste-book away with him—both these entries are my handwriting—I will swear that there was an interval of twelve months and a fortnight between the two entries—the account slipped our memory, and was omitted in the index—I am sure it was the 24th of Jan. that this account was settled, and about a quarter to seven—I cannot say exactly to a minute—I should say it was not ten minutes, one way or the other, from the quarter—I had sent several times for the money, and my brother had called himself before he went—he was not gone when this was paid—he lived with me formerly, when this, business in Basinghall-street was carried on—mine is a private house—I do not keep a servant—I have lodgers—my wife or the lodgers' servant attends to the door—I cannot say who opened it to the prisoner—I cannot say who was in the house at the time—very likely the lodgers might have been having a party, and in that case the servant might have opened the door—the lodgers and the servant still live with me—they are not here—I was not before the Magistrate—I was first applied to on this matter two or three days ago—I think on Saturday last I first heard of it—the prisoner's brother applied to me to appear for him—I heard that there was a subpoena out for my brother Thomas, which subpoena was sent with the other—I did not hear that the prisoner was charged with stealing a cask of white lead till his brother came—I then heard that it was said to be stolen on the 24th of Jan.—I heard it either from the brother or at Mr. Wontner's office—no, it was from the brother—I did not know until last Saturday that the 24th of Jan. was the day

on which the white lead was stolen—I came here yesterday morning, for the first time—I believe the prisoner is a corn-chandler, or something in that way—I do not know much about him, any more than this transaction—we trusted him certainly, but not intentionally—we advertise coals at a certain price, and these coals ought to have been paid for on delivery; but not being paid for on delivery, of course they were carried into the ledger, and it escaped our memory till after making the accounts up at the time my brother went to France, in the spring of last year—the coals were sent to Victoria-place, White Conduit-fields—I never knew him as a dealer in white lead.

MR. DOANE. Q. Have you any interest in this matter? A. Not the slightest—I have never been a friend or acquaintance of the prisoner's, and never visited him or his family.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 33.— Confined Eighteen Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-896
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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896. MARY MINEY was indicted for stealing, on the 21st of Feb., 1 watch, value 10l.; 1 watch-guard, 2l.; 1 watch chain, 1l. 10s.; 1 watchkey, 8s.; and 1 breast-pin, 2l. 10s.; the goods of William Hance Reeves.

WILLIAM HANCE REEVES . I live at Lawrence Pountney-Lane. On Tuesday morning, the 21st of Feb., I was in the Strand about half-past two or three o'clock—I had been to the theatre—I went into a public-house in the Strand, and saw the prisoner there in company with three or four other women—they asked me to treat them, which I did—one of them named Williams became intoxicated, and the prisoner with others took her away—I remained in the house half an hour or more, and the prisoner returned—I went out, she followed me, and persuaded me to go home with her—I went with her to Newcastle-court, Strand—I saw nearly the whole of the same party there—I asked for the girl that had been taken away drunk—the prisoner took me to her—she was in bed with another girl—I took her into another room, and the prisoner and two other women also came in—they asked me to treat them again—I gave them half-a-crown—the prisoner was then sitting alongside of me on the bedside—after some time she asked me to give her my watch and pin to give to the landlady to take care of—I said I thought there was not the slightest occasion for that—she said "Yes, I think there is, because there are several other girls in the room, and I will not be answerable for them"—on that I gave her the watch and the pin, to give to the landlady to take care of till the morning—it was a watch, chain, key, and pin—I gave them separately—the watch, guard, chain, and key were attached—the pin was separate—I gave them to her, and she left the room—in the course of the night I heard some disturbance outside the room, and in consequence of what Williams, who I was with, said, I left the room, and went with the landlady and Williams to the prisoner, who I found in bed with a man in another room—I asked her for my watch and pin—she said she had not got them, she had left them on the drawers in the landlady's room, and did not know what had become of them—I immediately went down stairs—the landlady sent for a policeman who came, I followed him up stairs into the prisoner's room, and he found the pin—I asked the prisoner for the watch again—she said if I would give her till the morning she would perhaps get it me—I gave her in charge.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What had you been about that evening? A. I had been to the Adelphi theatre—it was over about twelve o'clock—I then went to an oyster shop close by, alone, and had three dozen oysters, and a pint of ale—I might have been there about half an hour—I then came down the Strand, and went home with a young woman—I do not

know the name of the place—it was not far frow Newcastle-court—I mett her in the Strand, and treated her with some gin—I was with her perhaps two hours—I had a glass of brandy and water to drink—I thn came down the Strand, and had a pint of stout in the Strand, somewhere near Covent-garden—I do not know the name of the house—I divided it among some of the girls—I think I tasted some of the gin at the house with the prisoner and Williams—I was not drunk—I was quite sensible, and knew what I was about—I had gone to a house in Shire-lane with the prisoner—I did not go in—there was no admittance, and we went to another house in the next street—we got in there, and came out again, and then went to Newcastle-court—I did not go to any other place—I gave the prisoner these things at her persuasion, to give to the landlady—I am quite sure I had my watch at that time—I have never found it—I gave it to her, trusting to her representation to return it in the morning—I did not give her till the morning to do it.

MARY WILLIAMS . I live in Newcastle-court, strand. On the 21st of Feb., I was there in bed and asleep, when the prosecutor came—the prisoner asked him for his watch and pin—she said she was the landlady, then she said she was not, but she would give it to the landlady, for there were other women in the room, and they would be safer with the landlady—he refused at first, and then gave it her—he was sitting on the side of the bed—she went up stairs, and he staid with me in the room for about half an hour.

Cross-examined. Q. Then you had slept off your intoxication, had you? A. I was sober when they awoke me up—I had been in bed about two hours—it does not take more than that time to sober me—I go by the name of Mary Williams, but my real name is Bridget Crawley—I have gone by the name of Williams since I have been Unfortunate—I had seen the prosecutor before that evening, at the Spotted Dog, in the Strand.

SARAH SMITH . I am the landlady of this house in Newcastle-court. On the Tuesday morning I was in bed and asleep—my servant came and awoke me—I got up immediately, went into the parlour, and found the prosecutor making a piece of work about his watch—I asked what was the matter—he said a female had got his watch, and was goint to give it to the landlady—I said I was the landlady, and I had not got it—the prisoner had never brought it to me—I went with the prosecutor and Williams into the prisoner's room where she was in bed—he asked for the watch—she said she had not got it, that she had laid it on my drawers while I was asleep—a policeman was sent for, who came and found the pin, I did not see where.

Cross-examined. Q. What time did you go to hed? A. Twelve o'clock—I do not lock my door—there is admission to the house all night—the servant does not go to bed.

CHARLES HENRY BAGNALL (police-constable F 31.) I was called to this house—the prosecutor said he had lost his watch and chain—I went up to the first floor front room, and saw the prisoner in bed—I found this pin between the bed and mattress, tucked in with the sheet and blanket at the foot of the bed—I asked her abort the watch—she said she knew nothing of it.

MR. REEVES re-examined. This pin is mine—I have had it a long time.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-897
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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897. WILLIAM WARD was indicted for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Samuels, on the 25th of February, at St. Mary, Whitechapel, and stealing therein 2 gowns, value 10s.; 2 petticoats, 5s.; 3 bed-gowns, 7s.; 2 pairs of stays, 5s.; 2 aprons, 1s.; 1 gown-skirt, 2s.; 1 scarf, 1s.; 1 pair of stockings, 1s.; 1 pair of trowsers, 5s.; 1 waistcoat, 1s. 6d.; and 1 pair of drawers, 1s. 6d.; his goods; and that he had been before convicted of felony.

JULIA HANNAH FRANCES HANCOCK . I am servant to Mr. Henry Samuels, a surgeon, living in Mansel-street, Whitechapel. On Saturday, the 25th of Feb., between eight and nine o'clock, I was going up stairs, and observed a man in the second floor front room, standing up in an arm-chair—the room-door was open, and the room was in a state of disorder—I saw some clothes scattered up at the further end of the room, by the wardrobe—the man was standing on the chair round the corner of the room—thinking it was the boy that used to clean our knives and go errands, I said, "For God's sake, Jem, what a fool you are to frighten me"—he turned round, and said, "It is only me, ma'am, it is only me, ma'am"—I turned round and held a candle-shade up, which I had in my hand, and saw it was the prisoner—he rushed by me—I followed him down to the drawing-room, calling out, "Master! thieves!"—he made a kind of stop—I went to catch hold of him—he struck at me with his fist, and rushed down to the passage-door—I went to catch hold of him again—he kicked me, and rushed out of the house—I opened the door, and rushed out—my master came directly, but he was out of the house before my master could open the door—he was brought back by a constable in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I am sure he is the person that was in the room—I could see his features by the light I had—our street-door is kept open till between eight and nine o'clock, we then close it—there is a passage-door a little further in, that is the door the prisoner ran out at—it was shut about a quarter of an hour before, when I took some coals into the parlour, for the parlour-door is close to it, and I should have seen if it had been open—I can swear it was shut—it shuts with a latch-lock, which catches—I had not been in the bed-room since five—it was then in order, and every thing in its place—there were no clothes on the floor, they were in a drawer against the window—these clothes now produced are my master's and mistress's—this gown, pair of trowsers, and stays, were in the arm-chair at five, where I saw the prisoner standing.

Prisoner. Q. What can you swear to me by? A. Both by your features and your dress—I held the shade in your face.

EMMA SKINNER . I am in Mr. Samuels' service—I went up stairs with Hancock on this evening—the went into master's room, I did not—I went up the next flight of stairs—I heard her say, "Good God! Jem, what a fool you are, to frighten me so"—I stood on the stairs a few moments, and saw the prisoner rush by, and run down stairs—he is the person I am sure—I followed him down stairs—I know this lavender gown, it is my mistress's—it was in the bottom drawer, in her bed-room—I had seen it there that morning—all the things were kept in the drawers, except a pair of trowsers, a green dress, and a pair of stays—I had seen them in that room that morning—after the prisoner was brought back and taken to the station, I went and looked at the room—the wardrobe-door was open, likewise the bottom drawer, and quite empty—I had not been in the room to take any things out—master and mistress and several friends were in the house.

JOSEPH GARRETT . I live with Mr. Levy, a watchmaker in Prescott-street. On Saturday evening I was passing Mr. Samuels' house, and saw the prisoner run out of it—I am sure it was him—I did not know him before—I can tell him by his dress—he ran down the same side of the way—Mr. Samuels came out, and hallooed, "Where is he?"—some young man said, "He is gone that way," pointing towards Whitechapel—Mr. Samuels went that way—I said, "He is not gone that way, he is gone towards Prescott-street"—Mr. Samuels ran across the road, towards Vinegar-alley, which was

not the way the prisoner had gone—no one went after the prisoner, they went the wrong way.

Prisoner. Q. What dress had I on? A. A sleeve waistcoat, low shoes, white stockings, and a hat—I saw you run out of the house.

ROBERT GOODHIND (police-constable H 21.) On the 25th of Feb. I was coming into Mansel-street, out of Haydon-square, about half-past eight o'clock in the evening, and the prisoner ran by me, coming from Mansell-street—I afterwards heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I immediately pursued the prisoner, and took him in Haydon-square, by the side of the church—I brought him back to Mr. Samuel's, and both the girls identified him as the person that had been in the house—he said he was not the person that had been in Mr. Samuel's house—I had not said anything to him, at that time, about Mr. Samuels—I took him up stairs, where the property was taken out of the drawers, and found it lying on the floor, close by the wardrobe—I took it up from the floor, and have produced it—the prosecutor's house is in the parish of St. Mary, Whitechapel.

HILLS JOHNSON . I am a policeman. I was at Denmark-street station on Sunday, when the prisoner was confined there—I went to the cell to take another lad there—he was dancing—I said, "You are merry, my lad"—he said, "Yes, I am; I may as well be merry as sad"—as I was coming away, he said, "I suppose to-morrow I shall be locked up in Newgate"—I said, "Most likely you will, if the case is proved clear against you"—he said, "Yes, but though they saw me in the room, they can't swear to me, and I never brought anything away with me."

Prisoner's Defence. Is it likely, if a person was guilty, they would say such a thing to a policeman? everybody knows that the least thing they discover directly to the inspector; I might as well have told the Magistrate at once.

CHARLES BURGESS . I am a policeman. I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction, from Mr. Clark's office—(read)—I was present at the trial—he is the same person.

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Transported for Seven Years.

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 8th, 1843.

First Jury before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-898
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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898. HARRIET MORTON was indicted for stealing, on the 2nd of March, 1 match-box, value 2s. 6d., the goods of Edward Dale.

MARY DALE . I am the wife of Edward Dale, who keeps a public-house in St. George's, Bloomsbury. On the morning of the 2nd of March, I missed a china ornament off the mantel-piece in the front room first floor—this, now produced, is it—I had seen it there a day or two before—it is the property of my husband.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you know the prisoner before? A. No—she said she had lived in the neighbourhood, and now lived in the neighbourhood of the Regent's park.

THOMAS DALE . I am the son of the last witness. On Wednesday afternoon, the 2nd of March, the prisoner came into the bar, and afterwards went up stairs—we missed this ornament next morning—I went, on Thursday, with the constable, to the prisoner's lodging in Warren-street, I before, and there found it.

EDWARD DALE . I am the landlord of this house.

Cross-examined. Q. You have lived there some years? A. Yes—I never

saw the prisoner in my life, that I know of, before the 2nd of March—I was in hopes, that when before the Magistrate, she would not have been taken any further—I know that a barrister lodged in her house—he called, and told me that he had lodged with her two or three years.

GEORGE WILBRAHAM (police-constable E 77.) I took the prisoner into custody—I went with Mr. Dale to her lodging, and found this ornament.

GUILTY . Aged 42.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor and Jury.

Confined Fourteen Days.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-899
VerdictsGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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899. JOHN SMITH was indicted for stealing, on the 26th of Feb., 1 coat, value 12s.; 1 waistcoat, 15s.; 1 pair of trowsers, 3s.; 1 cape, 4s.; 1 gown, 7s.; and 1 apron, 1s.; the goods of Robert William Spencer; and MARY NEWLAND , for feloniously receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen; against the Statute, &c.; and that they had both been before convicted of felony.

CEILA SPENCER . I am the wife of Robert William Spencer, and live in Castle-street, Bloomsbury. On Sunday, the 26th of Feb., I came home from church about ten minutes to eight o'clock in the evening—I found some people at the street door, and a policeman among them—I went into the house, and missed the articles stated—they were my husband's property, and were safe before I went out, at about half-past six—one of the things was in the box, the others in the closet—the coat was on the drawers in the back parlour—I have never seen them again.

JOHN WATSON . I live in Eagle-street, Holborn. On Sunday night, the 26th of Feb., about seven o'clock, I was in Castle-street with William Flanagan and Thomas Roland—I saw Newland at the top of Castle-street we went into a public-house with her, and had something to drink—when we came out we crossed over, and went to the corner of a street to a public-house near the prosecutor's house—Smith and another came from the prosecutor's house, ran across the road, down a little bye street, and called, "Poll," meaning Newland—Newland went over, and Smith gave her a bundle—I could not see what things they were—I had seen him coming with it from the house—when she got the bundle, Smith tried on a coat in the street—it was too little for him—he got it from under his arm—he had brought it from the prosecutor's—they all ran away—I did not go after them—I went over to Mr. Spencer's—I found the street door wide open, and a little door inside the passage open too—I saw Mrs. Spencer come home from church—I gave information to a policeman, and went with him to a beer-shop in St. Giles's—the policeman showed Smith to me, and I told him I thought it was him—he said if I did not go out of the house, looking at him, he would punch my b----y head—I was not quite sure of him, not to swear to him—I am sure now, because I looked at his face so when he came out of the house—I can swear he is the man—he had on a white waistcoat and a Taglioni coat—I did not see him do anything at the police-office—I have not said that I did—I did not say anything about his changing a waistcoat there.

Smith. Q. How can you swear to me? A. Because you had whiskers when I saw you—you have been shaved since—when they brought me to the public-house, I said I thought I knew you.

Newland. Q. Was there another female with me as well? A. Yes—I know the men called you, because you went over to them, received the bundle of things, and went with them.

JOHN ROLAND . I live in Eagle-street. I was in Castle-street on the Sunday night, with Watson and some others—I saw Smith and another come from Mr. Spencer's with a bundle of clothes—they called out to Newland,

"Here, Poll, catch hold"—she came forward, and caught hold—I don not know what sort of wearing apparel it was—it was either a coat or trowsers—she took it from one of them—I believe it was from Smith—I am sure he is one of the men—I can swear to him—when Newland took it they all ran towards St. Giles's.

GEORGE JOHN RESTIEAUX . I am a policeman. I apprehanded Newland on Sunday night, the 26th of Feb., in Church-street, St. Giles's—I told her what it was for—she said three men came to her in Castle-street, at the corner, and gave her the things, that she gave them to them again, and they went away—she said they were strangers to her—I asked her if Jack Smith was one of them—she said, "Do you mean the chap that lives with Tommy Roundhead?"—I said, "Yes"—she said no, he was not—I took her to the station—after the charge was entered, she said, "Why don't you go and apprehend the men?"—I said, "I would if I knew them—I do not know them" the male prisoner was not there then—the two prisoners both lived in one house at that time, No. 10, Church-street, St. Giles's—I went and searched both their rooms.

Smith. I had only lived there three days—had I whiskers on at the time? Witness. No; I have known him some years—I never saw him with whiskers.

GEORGE BOARDMAN (police-constable E 16.) I apprehended Smith at No. 10, Church-street, St. Giles's, between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning—he was in bed—he got up and put on this white waistcoat first—a young man in the room said, "You don't look well in a light waistcoat; you had better take that off;" which he did, and put on the one he has on now—I had told him what I wanted him for before he dressed.

WILLIAM FLANAGAN . I was out with the other boys on this night—I saw Smith and another come from No. 6, Castle-street, Bloomsbury—Newland was along with us at the time—I heard them call to her, "Come here, Poll"—Smith put a bundle into her apron, and kept the coat out.

Smith. Q. Why did you not swear to me when you saw me on the Sunday night? A. I am sure you are the man, but there were so many in the public-house I did not look at you—the robbery was done in the white waistcoat.

Newland. Q. I met you about seven o'clock, and remained with you till about eight, did I not? A. Yes.

Newland's Defence. Two men coming by called me over; at least I did not know whether it was me or the other female that they called—they had been fighting—I held the coat, and then I gave it back.

Smith's Defence. I was in a public house sitting down—the policeman brought Flanagan in to me and asked if he knew me—he said, "No, that is not him'—he said, "Do you think it is him"—he said, "Yes"—he said, "Be sure"—he then said, "I would not swear to him"—he brought another boy in and said, "Is that him?"—he said, "I think that is him, it looks much like him"—I had on the light waistcoat at the time, and the boy would not swear to me—I did not go away, but was about where I live till Wednesday morning, when they came and took me for this robbery—I know nothing about it—I was in the public-house from half-past six o'clock that Sunday night till about half-past eight or nine, when the policeman came in and saw me.

JOHN EATON (police-constable S 193.) I produce a certificate of Smith's former conviction from the clerk of the peace's office at Clerkenwell-green (read)—I was present at the trial—he is the person.

Smith. He was not there at all. Witness. I was—Mr. Sergeant Adams tried him.

CHARLES DAVIS (police-constable C 29.) I produce a certificate of Newland's former conviction from Mr. Clark's office (read)—I was present at the trial—she is the person.

SMITH— GUILTY . Aged 19.


Transported for Seven Years.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-900
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation; Guilty > with recommendation

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900. JAMES RYAN and DANIEL BRYAN were indicted for stealing, on the 26th of Feb., 3lbs. weight of cheroots, value 2l. 14s., and 1 box, 9d. the goods of John George Weston.

GEORGE ANGLESEA FITZPATRICK . I am in the service of Mr. Ray, of No. 344, Strand—on the evening of the 26th of Feb. I saw the prisoners, in company with three others, between eleven and twelve at night, at the corner of Mr. Weston'a shop, at the corner of Parker-street and Little Queen-street; the door is in Queen-street—I believe it to be Ryan who I saw go round the corner—in a few minutes he returned with something to the others, and directly he came back they all scampered past me, and said, "Make haste, or we shall be caught"—they ran down Cross-lane and stopped there—I am sure Bryan was one of the party—they then went into Charles-street, and stopped at a door—as soon as they saw me come they made a noise in the passage, and all five of them ran into a house and up stairs—a policeman came—I told him—he got a light, went up stairs, and brought the two prisoners down, who I recognized to have been with the other three.

JOHN GEORGE WESTON . This box belongs to me—I saw it safe on my premises in Queen-street about seven o'clock in the evening—I was informed of the robbery afterwards, and saw it at Bow-street—I am positive it is mine—it contained cheroots, worth 2l. 15s., when in my shop—I went to a house in Charles-street pointed out by the police, and from my door, going along on the pavement to that house, I saw two or three cheroots dropped along on the pavement—the house is about 100 yards from my house, and in the house I found some down the water-closet, opposite the window of the room the prisoners were taken in—I was at another shop which I have in Holborn at the time.

WILLIAM ROFFIN (police-constable F 141.) I received information, and went with Fitzpatrick to a house in Charles-street between eleven and twelve on Sunday, the 26th of Feb., and apprehended the two prisoners in the first floor back room, one in each bed—when they saw me they seemed very much confused—I desired them to get up, that they had stolen some cigars—they denied all knowledge of it—on searching the room I found a small box, containing eight cheroots, and about eight loose ones—on looking out of window I saw this box lying bottom upwards, and soome loose cheroots round it—I did not find any more boys in the house.

JOHN GEORGE WESTON re-examined. These are the same sort of cheroots as I lost—they were made at Milan—I am positive of the box—mine is a corner house, and the side window was not shut up—my wife bad just left the shop and gone into the parlour—they must have jumped up on the counter and reached over to get the box—they must have come into the shop; the door is always open—it is usual in our business to open on Sunday.

Bryan's Defence. I am innocent. I was in bed before ten o'clock on Sunday night.

(The prisoners received good characters.)

RYAN— GUILTY . Aged 16.

BRYAN— GUILTY . Aged 15.

Recommended to mercy.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-901
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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901. JOHN TASKER was indicted for embezzlement.

MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.

SAMUEL JAMES GUY . I am a sadler, and am secretary to the Friendly Society of Sadlers, Harness, Collar-makers, and Bridle-cutters, held at the New Coach-makers' Arms, Long-acre. I am a member of the Society—Thomas Dunn is the treasurer—I am not a trustee—the prisoner filled the situation of corresponding secretary—there are provincial societies in communication with the parent society in London—he was authorised to write to those societies, and receive money due from them—he was appointed by vote—there is a minute made of his appointment—I have not got it here—he has acted as corresponding secretary ever since, and was paid for the duty—there is also a trade society—he is a member of that, he also acted as corresponding secretary for that, and received a larger payment—there was 2l. 8s. 3d. due from the provincial society at Leeds to our society—I requested him to write for that, I think in April, and up to October—I asked him several times if he had received it; and up to October he told me he had not received it—I had made several applications to him—I do not think he had any written directions how he was to account for money he received—he knew he was to pay them over to me immediately, or to the treasurer; and he has done so in some instances prior to this—he has not accounted to me for this 2l. 8s. 2d.—there was 6l. 8s. 11d. due last April, from a provincial society at Birmingham, of which Mr. Bishop is secretary—he has never accounted for that in any way, nor stated it in his accounts—I directed him to apply first—on the 14th of April I asked him for the 6l. 8s. 11d. I had directed him to write for—he told me then that he had received it and lost it—these three letters are in his handwriting—when he stated he had received the money from Mr. Bishop, I was not aware that he had received 2l. 8s. 3d. from Leeds—that has only been found out lately—I was obliged to take directions from the committee whether he was to be prosecuted or not.—(Three letters were here read: one making application to Mr. Bishop for the amount, another acknowledging the receipt, and another to Mr. Firth, acknowledging the receipt of a post-office order.)

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Was not the prisoner's appointment entered in a book? A. I believe it was, also the remuneration and the duties—I believe no meeting had been held between the time of his receiving the Birmingham money and his telling me he had lost it—it was his duty to pay cash over at the next meeting after he received it—there was a committee appointed to consider the propriety of prosecuting him—no proposal was made to pay by instalments what he said he had received and lost, not on the sick account—not this 6l. 8s.—he is a journeyman sadler.

PETER BISHOP . I am a bridle-cutter, at Birmingham. I belong to the London Society. On the 24th of April I received this letter from the prisoner by post, to state that we owed 6l. 8s. 11d. to the parent society, and I remitted him a post-office order for 6l. 8s. 11d. on behalf of our benefit society—I put the letter in the post myself, and on the 8th of May received this letter, acknowledging the receipt.

THOMAS FIRTH . I am a member of the society, and live at Leeds. I received this letter from the prisoner—we owed the parent society 2l. 8s. 3d., which I remitted him by post-office order, some time before the receipt of this letter.

Cross-examined. Q. Was not your society in existence long before the one in London? A. No—there was a trade society before, but not this branch to the London one—it is an enrolled society—the money was sent up on behalf of the benefit society, not the trade society—it was contributions from the sick society—the trade society is not enrolled.

JOHN KING . I am a sadler, and a member of this friendly society, which is enrolled. I attended at the office of the Clerk of the Peace, where the enrolment was produced—I examined this printed book with the original enrolment—this is a true copy of the rules, as enrolled.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you seen any book in which these rules are written? A. I have seen a written copy, sent to the Clerk of the Peace—there were two copies, one which we have in a box, and the other was sent to the Clerk of the Peace.

THOMAS DUNN . I am treasurer of the society, and a friend of the prisoner. He has never accounted to me for this 2l. 8s. 3d. from Leeds, or 6l. 8s. 11d. from Birmingham—he has not paid any money to me at all.

Cross-examined. Q. Were not the monies sent up for the trade society, and not the enrolled London society? A. They were sent up, I believe, to the general account; but I cannot say—if a country member falls sick in London he is not relieved out of the funds of the enrolled society—these sums were for the enrolled society.

PETER BISHOP re-examined. At the time I remitted this sum I also sent 1s. 3d. for the trade society—the whole sum was in two post-office orders, for 5l. and the balance.

THOMAS FIRTH re-examined. I also sent 1l. 5s. 9d. for the trade society, with the 2l. 8s. 3d. for the friendly society.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you authority to send the particular sum to that particular society, and not to the general society? A. Yes.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 34.— Confined Six Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-902
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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902. THOMAS HAWES was indicted for stealing, on the 21st of Feb., 1 spinning wheel, value 8s., the goods of Robert Nelson.

EDWARD RONDEAU . I live at No. 21, Quaker-street, Bethnal-green. On the 21st of Feb. I was in Birdcage-walk, and met the prisoner in company with another man, who was carrring a spinning-wheel—they went about two hundred yards after my seeing them, and pitched the wheel down at the corner of an alley—they saw me watching them—I saw the prisoner make a communication to the other, by which I knew that he saw me following them, and I heard the man say, "I have done with it," or, "I will have no more to do with it," and he went towards Hackney-road—they were together when the man pitched it down, and said, "I will have no more to do with it"—he went one way and the prisoner the other—I went after the prisoner, and told Sarah Birch to keep her eye on the wheel—the prisoner walked a few yards and then ran—I ran, calling, "Stop thief"—he was stopped about two hundred yards off, but a man let him go before I got up—I afterwards conveyed the wheel to Nelson and he claimed it.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What are you? A. A loom broker—I buy them and sell them again when it is convenient—sometimes I keep them twelve months, sometimes six years—I have no objection to sell them to the same person I buy them of—I have known the prisoner's family twenty years—I did not know him personally, but I could pick him out from a thousand—it was about ten minutes to three o'clock in the afternoon when I met him—I knew the time, as I had to go to a Corn-law meeting.

SARAH BIRCH . I live in Birdcage-walk—my husband is a labourer—I saw two men with a wheel on the 21st of Feb., about ten minutes or a quarter to three o'clock, as I was standing at my door—I believe the prisoner to be one of the men—the other was carrying it and he helped him down with it about three yards up the alley—they went away—Rondeau asked me to keep my eye on the wheel till he came back and took possession of it.

Cross-examined. Q. You are not rare about the prisoner? A. I firmly believe it to be him—I noticed his dress—I never saw Rondean before.

ROBERT NELSON . I am a silk weaver, and live in Thomas-street, Bethnal-green—this spinning-wheel is mine, and is worth 16s.—I saw it on my premises on the 20th of Feb. about four or five o'clock—four small wheels were attached to it—when it was brought back one was gone—the policeman has since produced it to me.

Cross-examined. Q. When did you see the machine on your premises? A. I left it on Monday evening, the 20th of Feb., and missed it on the 21st between seven and eight o'clock in the morning—I have known the prisoner two or three years—he used to be a neighbour—he is a weaver—he has always borne a good character.

MARTIN ROOTS (police-constable H 170.) On the 21st of Feb., I went to Nelson's house—in consequence of what he said I went into the back yard and traced the mark of a wheel on the ground from the door of the prosecutor's house to the door of the prisoner's house in James-street—I found a small wheel by that door—on farther information, I took the prisoner into custody that afternoon, coming home to his own house.

Cross-examined. Q. Do a number of other people live in the same house? A. A great many, three or four families—I picked up the small wheel between eight and nine o'clock in the morning—I went into the house and asked if I might search—I think the prisoner is the man who said, "You may come in and search my house"—I believe he was in bed at the time—I did not find a 2lb. loaf—he said he had one in his hat before the Magistrate, but I did not take his hat off—I searched his pockets—I found no money—he appeared in a very distressed state.

MR. PAYNE called

THOMAS JOHN CRADDOCK . I am a silk-trimming manufacturer, and live in Arabella-place, Wilmot-square, Bethnal-green—I have known the prisoner twelve or fourteen years—on Tuesday the 21st of Feb., about five or ten minutes to three o'clock, he applied to me for work, and said he was very badly off—he staid some time talking—he must have been with me at least a quarter of an hour—my house is about ten minutes' walk from Birdcage-walk—I gave him a 2lb. loaf, and he went away to go home.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 25.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-903
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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903. PERCY SMART was indicted for stealing, on the 18th of Feb., 2 half-crowns, 2 shillings, and 2 sixpences, the monies of Charles Frederick Bielfield, his master.

MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN KNIGHT . I am cashier to Mr. Charles Frederick Bielfield, papier mache manufacturer—the prisoner was a packer—it was part of his duty to give out the work to the men called trimmers, in the upper warehouse—there are men named Atkinson, Williams, and Thomas, in that warehouse—on the 18th of Feb., he delivered me an account—this is it, it is in his own handwriting—he gave it to me, and told me that those were the particular sums the workmen bad earned as overtime—I gave him 1l. 12s. 3 1/2 d.—to the best of my belief I gave him half-crowns, shillings, sixpences, and threepence, and a halfpenny—I am certain I paid him in silver and halfpence, not in gold—the account is, "Hoole, 12s. 1d.; Atkinson, 6s. 7 1/2 d.; Williams, 4s. 2d.; Thomas, 6s. 2d.; and Cole, 3s. 3d. "—those sums are opposite their names in his handwriting, and it was on the faith of that paper I paid him the money—I afterwards compared the account with books in his own handwriting, and

they corresponded—I gave it him for him to pay the men, believing they had earned it—I am quite certain I paid him some half-crowns.

Cross-examined by MR. JONES. Q. What did he say when he gave you the paper? A. That that was the account of the men's earnings for over-time—he said that was due to them—it was his duty to keep an account of the men's work, to give the work out to them, and to pay them these sums on Saturday night—he had done that for some time—he has been, I believe, seven years in the service—he brought me the books at the same time as the paper—I compared them together, and they agreed—the book contains the quantity of work, in his handwriting.

MICHAEL FORD . I am foreman to Mr. Bielfield. I have the books in which is entered the account of the men's over-time—I have compared them with this account, and they correspond.

GEORGE HOOLE . I am a trimmer in Mr. Bielfield's service. On Saturday night, the 18th of Feb., the prisoner paid me 10s. 2d., not 12s. 1d.—it was for over-work during that week—that was all that was due to me.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know how much was due to you? A. I cannot tell exactly—more might have been due to me—I kept no account—I left it to the prisoner—I knew that he kept books for entering the accounts—he used at first to show me what he put down, but at last he did not—he had not been to me to ask what was due to me—he paid me in shillings and sixpences—whether there were half-crowns I cannot say—I am sure it was all in silver.

MR. PAYNE. How long is it since he ceased to show you the book? A. I suppose two months.

JOHN ATKINSON . I am a trimmer in Mr. Bielfield's service. On Saturday night, the 18th of Feb., the prisoner paid me 4s. 7 1/2 d.—he said that was all that was due to me for that week—he gave me four shillings, a sixpence, and three halfpence.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know whether it was all that was due to you? A. Yes, it was, I am quite sure—I left it to him—he said it was all—I depended on what he told me—perhaps there might have been more due to me, I cannot say.

EDWARD WILLIAMS . I am a trimmer in the prosecutor's service. On Saturday, the 18th of Feb., the prisoner paid me 2s. 7d., it was two shillings, a sixpence, and two halfpence.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you do not know how much was really due to you? A. Yes—I took an account of it that week, it being little money—I do not think more was due to me—I will not swear it, there might have been, I cannot tell—I should have kept whatever he gave me—I counted it up as 2s. 7d.—I expected that before he paid it to me—it was what I reckoned it would be—I knew exactly how much was due to me that week—he had told me what was due to me before he paid me—sometimes they give better prices than at others—is was the same as I had at other times for the work.

JOHN THOMAS . I am a trimmer in Mr. Bielfield's employ. On the 18th of Feb. I received 4s. 8d. from the prisoner—I considered that was about the sum I was entitled to for over-work—he gave me two half-crowns, and I gave him 4d. out.

Cross-examined. Q. Whether it was more or less you do not know, I suppose? A. Yes, I do—I kept an account every week—I had taken an account that week—I always put down in the shop what I do—he said nothing when he paid me—he did not show me any book.

THOMAS WHITEHEAD . I am a policeman. I took the prisoner into custody

on the 27th of Feb., at his master's—I told him it was for embezzling his master's money—he said he had not embezzled any money.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY .—Aged 19.— Confined Six Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-904
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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904. RICHARD MARSHALL was indicted for stealing, on the 2nd of March, 1 sovereign, the monies of John Carnen.

JOHN CARNEN . I was coachman to John Long, Esq., of Maxwell Hall, near Winchester. On the 2nd of March I came to town by the Southampton Railway—on leaving the railway, the prisoner came up and spoke to me—I cannot say that I had ever seen him before, but I think I had—he said he had come half-way by the railway—we went into a public-house, and had a pint of half-and-half before we came to Waterloo-bridge—I was going to Pallmall, and he walked with me, as I did not know the nearest way—before we came to Waterloo-bridge, another person joined him—we went to some other public-houses, and at last to the Swan, in Hungerford-market—we got there about three o'clock, and went into the parlour—I then put my hand into my purse, and took out a sovereign, to get it changed, to bind a bet with the prisoner—I put it on the table—he pulled out two imitations of sovereigns from his pocket—I saw them in his hand, and one of them is here now—the prisoner had proposed tossing for grog—he and the other man tossed for three glasses of grog—they had a sixpenny-worth of rum and water each, and I had sixpenny-worth of gin and water—the prisoner paid for it—he offered me several bets—at the last bet he said be would take three crowns to one that I should lose the toss—I said, "Done," pulled out my sovereign, and placed it on the table—he said he would cover my sovereign to bind the bet—he placed down an imitation of a sovereign, and took my good sovereign up—I detected him doing it, and said he had changed the sovereign, for my sovereign had no George and dragon—he directly opened his hand, and said, "Well, then, take this," offering me another sort of sovereign—I, thinking it was a good one, took it up—the other man and the prisoner then placed the money in a hat—as the other said he would make the same bet as I was making, the other man pulled out what appeared to be a 5l. note, and placed it in his own hat—the prisoner placed an imitation sovereign in the hat, on one side, and a note on the other—I went to place the sovereign which he had given me in the hat—I will not swear whether it went out of my hand or not, but I immediately picked it out, on observing the other piece of coin and the note in the hat—I took them out, went to look at the number of the note, and they snatched it out of my hand—I immediately ran out, and asked Dawson if it was a good sovereign—he said not—I held the prisoner, who scuffled with me, and he was detained in custody—I found myself in possession of a bad sovereign for a good one, which I had when I went there—the other man got away.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How long have you been with Mr. Long? A. Eight years and five months—I came to London on my own private business—I had not left him—I was going to leave him on Saturday morning, but was detained in London by this—I came to see a tradesman of whom Mr. Long bad bought a carriage, as it is customary to give the servant a trifle—I got less than a guinea—I did not know what I was to get until I came—I asked my master's leave to come—he wished me to be home on Friday afternoon on account of the hounds meeting—it was my own wish that I was going to leave him—I lived with him when I was in the 10th Hussars—I had not got another place—I gave notice to quit more than four months ago—he is lately married, and we were travelling three months of that time—I think I have seen the prisoner somewhere about Winchester—I do not know whether he came up by the railway—we had something to drink at all the public-houses

—I spent 4d. and 3 1/2 d. that is all—I proposed having a game of cards at the Swan—I never completed a toss—I was going on with it, but in consequence of my sovereign being taken I did not—I got the sovereign from Mr. Long's maid three weeks ago—I had 2l. 0s. 6d., and some copper when I left home—when I got to the Swan, I had about 1l. 9s.—it cost me 8s. to come by the train—I was in London about two years ago—I am sure the prisoner took up my sovereign, and put down an imitation one in its place—I detected him in doing so.

RICHARD DAWSON . I am barman at the Swan. I saw the prosecutor, the prisoner, and another man drinking there on the 2nd of March—the prosecutor brought an imitation coin to me, and asked if it was good, and if I would change it—I said it was not—he then told me the prisoner had exchanged one—a constable was sent for, and I gave the coin to him—it was such a one as this—(produced.)

Cross-examined. Q. How long were they there? A. About two hours and a half—I was in the room at different times—they drank spirits and water.

GEORGE WEBB . I am beadle of Hungerford market. I found the prisoner at the Swan, about five o'clock, on the 2nd of March—he was given into my custody—I took him to the station—he said he had no money, and he would rather pull off his coat or anything than go to the station—I found nothing on him, but a knife, a shilling, and some halfpence—he denied having the man's sovereign—the prosecutor said he would not care if he had his sovereign back.

Cross-examined. Q. And it was in reply to that the prisoner said, he would rather pull off his coat to pay it, than go to the station? A. He did not say that—I understood him to mean so—Dawson gave me the imitation sovereign.

GUILTY . Aged 38.— Transported for Seven Years.

NEW COURT, Monday, Feb. 27th, 1843.

Fifth Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-905
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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905. DAVID PUGH was indicted for obtaining 2l. under false pretences.

MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.

ANN LORD. I am the wife of William Henry Lord, who is now ill in the barracks at Chatham—I now live with my uncle, who keeps the Salmon and Ball public-house, Bethnel-green—I went to live there at the latter end of Aug.—on the 31st of Oct. my husband was out of employ, and had been from the time we came to town till that day seeking for employ—he left me that day, and about a week after I heard he had enlisted for a soldier in the East India Company's service—the prisoner had been in the habit of coming to my uncle's house—he was there on the 14th or 15th of Nov., which was after I heard of my husband having enlisted—he said, "Mrs. Lord, I have not had an opportunity of speaking to you since your husband enlisted, I suppose you think I know something about it, but I do not"—he said some one ought to go down to Soho-square, to try to make arrangements with Captain Murray about his discharge—I went with him to Soho-square the next day to the office of Captain Murray—he went to the front door—Sergeant Stevenson came to the door, and said, "Is it on military business?"—the prisoner said, "Yes"—Sergeant Stevenson said, "Walk round to the office-door in Bateman's-buildings"—we went round and went towards Captain Murray's office—the prisoner then said if they knew my husband was a married man, it would take 30l. to 40l. to get him off, and perhaps do him a serious injury—I did not go in consequence of that, but remained on some leads leading to

the office—he went in and came out in about ten minutes—I said, "What did they say?"—he said, "They asked me who you was, and I said you was my sister"—he said he had seen Captain Murray, who said that there must be 2l. paid in that night before eight o'clock, as there was a vessel at Gravesend that would go on Sunday, and my husband would be drafted into it—I had no money about me—I went to a friend in St. Martin's-lane to borrow it, but did not succeed—I was forced to go back to my uncle—the prisoner was with me—I borrowed the money of Mr. Turley—I went back with the prisoner to Soho-square, and when we got to Bateman's-buildings I gave him the two sovereigns, and he went in—I could not see from where I was, whether he went into the office—I waited in Bateman's-buildings—he came out of the court where the office is, and said he had paid it to Captain Murray—I asked if he had got a receipt—he said there was not any required, and that money would detain my husband twelve or fourteen days—this money was given to the prisoner to give to Captain Murray to prevent my husband going abroad.

Prisoner. Q. What was the purport of our going to Captain Murray? A. To inquire about my husband's discharge—I do not recollect any thing being said about a bounty that my husband would receive on enlisting—I received a letter to you from Sergeant-major Sullivan, from Chatham, which I opened—there might, perhaps, be something said about the bounty, but I cannot recollect it—I went to a public-house with you, and I believe there was a letter written to Sergeant-major Sullivan, not to pay my husband the bounty—I stated at the office, that having paid you 2l., for the purpose of paying Captain Murray, I did not see you again for eight or ten days—you was present when I received a letter from my brother—it was on the 17th of November that we went to Captain Murray—I am quite positive of that—you did not come to my uncle's again after that night—we were wondering what was the reason, and in a mean time the letter came from Brompton, in answer to the letter you wrote to Sullivan, and my uncle said I had better open it.

GEORGE GOODWIN TURLEY . I lent Mrs. Lord 2l., about the 17th of Nov.—I am not quite positive as to the day—the prisoner was not present, but I had seen him a moment previously—he stated that 2l. was required to he paid that very night, otherwise her husband would be drafted off, and it would cost 30l. instead of 20l. to buy him off.

Prisoner. Q. Where did this conversation take place? A. In the bar of the Salmon and Ball, about six o'clock in the evening—I saw Mrs. Lord in the bar-parlour—you was in the parlour—you could not know or see, from where you were sitting, what took place with me and Mrs. Lord, but you understood I was going to lend her the money, and told me you were going out with her to pay it, and after that I missed you—you told us all you were going up to pay the money.

JAMES AUGUSTUS FREDERICK STEVENSON . I am a sergeant in the East India Company's service—about the 17th of Nov. the prisoner came to the office, and I referred him to Serjeant-major Sullivan, of the Brompton-barracks—no money was paid to me—I have been in the service fourteen years—the sum of 2l. could not be paid for any such purpose as delaying a man's departure for India.

Prisoner. Q. Was any inquiry made respecting paying the bounty that day? A. Not that I can recollect—the direction of Sergeant-major Sullivan was not given for the purpose of writing to him respecting the bounty.

CAPTAIN JAMES MURRAY . I am a captain, in the land service of the East India Company. I have been for some years engaged in the recruiting service, and have offices in Bateman's-buildings—I did not see the prisoner on the 17th of Nov.—I certainly did not receive 2l. from him for

the discharge of Lord—Lord had enlisted in October—I did not authorise the prisoner to say that 2l. must be paid that evening.

Prisoner to MRS. LORD. Q. Had you not been to Chatham previous to going to Soho-square with me? A. Yes, I had been with Mr. Jacobs—my husband did not say, on that occasion, that it would be prejudicial to his interest, if it were known that he ran away from his wife and enlisted—he did not tell me that that must not be known—I was not told by my husband, or the persons where he was stopping, that it would require 20l. for his discharge.

Prisoner's Defence. I never received the 2l. from her; certainly an application was made to go with me to Soho-square, to ascertain the sum that ought to be paid, and also to write to Sergeant Sullivan about the bounty, and the sum that was wanted to make up the 20l. which she had previously been told was the amount—her uncle and her disagreed—he ordered her to leave the place, and refused to assist her—I never went near the office at second time that day.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-906
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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906. DAVID PUGH was again indicted for stealing, on the 3rd of Dec., 10 sovereigns, the monies of William Henry Lord.

MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.

ANN LORD. I am the wife of William Henry Lord. I paid 2l. to the prisoner, for the purpose of delaying my husband's departure—I paid him ten sovereigns on the 3rd of Dec, which I had received from my brother at Birmingham—I paid that to the prisoner to take to the office of Captain Murray, and it was to be returned in the event of its not serving for my husband's discharge—the prisoner did not tell me whether it would be sufficient for that purpose—I parted with it on the understanding that if it was not sufficient it was to be returned—I gave it to the prisoner in a public-house in Bateman's-buildings (I think it is the Mitre), and required him to bring me a receipt for it—he afterwards brought this receipt to me in the public-house, and told me he had paid the money to Captain Murray.

Prisoner. Q. On the morning of the 3rd Dec, do you recollect going to a loan society, in Hackney-road? A. Yes, I went to make inquiries respecting hireing a loan, not exactly for the purpose of obtaining a loan—I wished to know their terms—there were three letters written at the loan society by my direction, to try if I could succeed in getting a sufficient quantity of money to purchase my husband's discharge—one of them was to my husband's mother, and one to his aunt—I did not consider that 10l. would be sufficient to purchase his discharge—I considered I was 8l. short—I have not received any promise from Captain Murray of my husband's discharge in the event of prosecuting you—I did not make my uncle and aunt acquainted with this—Captain Murray acquainted my uncle with it on the 10th of Dec.—I applied to the police at Lambeth-street respecting having been defrauded of this money on the 10th of Dec.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. When was it you saw Captain Murray for the first time? A. On the 10th of Dec—I did not know before then that my husband was not to be discharged—I imagined the prisoner had succeeded—I had not seen the prisoner—he sent two letters to me to say he would call on me in the evening, when he returned from Chatham.

Captain JAMES MURRAY. I did not at any time receive 10l. from the prisoner—this receipt or memorandum is not my writing, or written by my, authority—I never saw the prisoner till I saw him at Lambeth-street office.

WILLIAM JACOBS . I know the prisoner, and know his handwriting—I believe this memorandum to be his handwriting.

Prisoner. Q. How many times hare you seen me write? A. Six or eight times—I saw you write a receipt for five guineas at Mr. Wheatley's office—I have seen you write at other time as well—I am confident it is yours from the peculiarity of the letter "d" in David alone, and the "i" s are the same, also many other letters, and the general appearance.

(Read.)—"Soho-square, 3rd Dec., 1842.—I do hereby undertake to return to Mr. David Pugh the turn of 10l. on Tuesday morning, the 6th instant, unless the same is accepted for the purpose it is paid. Js. MURRAY, Captain Major in East India service."

Prisoner's Defence. I have never received any such sum from the party, nor is this my handwriting, nor was it ever given by me to this person.

GUILTY . Aged 40.— Transported for Seven Years.

(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-907
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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907. FREDERICK YOUNG was indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Feb., 1 ingot of copper, value 10s., the goods of Pascoe Grenfell and others; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined Four Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-908
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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908. ELLEN SMITH was indicted for stealing, on the 7th of Feb., 7 3/4lbs. weight of bacon, value 3s. 6d., the goods of James Marks.

JAMES MARKS . I am a cheesemonger, and live in Brewer-street, Somers-town. This piece of bacon is mine—I lost it on the 7th of this month—here in my ticket on it—I had placed it on a pile of cheeses, on the cill of my door—a customer came in and told me something, and I missed it.

EDWARD SHAYLER . I was on duty in Brewer-street on the afternoon of the 7th of Feb.—Dickinson came and told me something—I went to Denton-street, and found the prisoner sitting by the kitchen fire, in a house there, and this bacon by the side of her, with this ticket on it—I asked where she bought it, but she was so drunk she made no reply—I took her to the station—she there stated she bought it of a woman in the house I brought her from—she had 2s. 8d. in her hand.

ANN DICKINSON . I am the wife of George Dickinson—I live in the kitchen of No. 16, Denton-street—on the 7th of Feb. I was in our back premises, talking for three or four minutes, and when I came down I found the prisoner, whom I had never seen before, sitting in my kitchen, with this lump of bacon on my table by her side—I asked what business she had there, and told her to go out—she said she would not, and ordered me out of my own place—I then got the policeman—she was rather the worse for liquor.

Prisoner's Defence. I had 10s. in my pocket, and I got some liquor—I went to see a person I knew, and she was out—I went in, and saw this bacon on the table; this woman came down, I begged her pardon—I had 8s. in my hand—I dropped it, and she picked it up, and gave me 2s. 8d. only—I saw this bacon on the table, and I said if she did not give me my money, I would have the value of it—I took it in my hand—she went for the officer—I dropped a five-shilling piece, and that she took up.

ANN DICKINSON . It is very false—the bacon was not there before I saw her—she brought it there—she had a half-crown, one penny piece, and two halfpence—that was all—the dropped that, and I gave it her back.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-909
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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909. WILLIAM VALENTINE was indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 5lbs. weight of lead, value 6d., the property of Sir William Johnson, and fixed to a building.

JOHN BUIK . I am staying at Fromont-lodge, Friern, Barnet, in care of the premises belonging to Sir William Johnson—I had occasion to go into the brewhouse about five o'clock in the afternoon, on the 11th of Feb.—I saw the prisoner on the top of the brewhouse, cutting the lead with some instrument which I cannot properly describe—I saw him distinctly from an opening in the tiles—I then went out at the back door, he went on the other side and leaped down into the stable-yard—I followed round after him, and found him in the stable—I asked him about a pheasant—he said he had not seen it—I then took him round, and accused him of this lead, and he begged my pardon twice—a part of the lead, about 3lbs., was removed, and some was gone—the prisoner was employed on the premises as a weekly servant—he had no business in the brewhouse; but he made an excuse afterwards that he got up to clean down the water-spout—I said that was not the truth, for his tools were all put fast for the night—I had never desired him to clean it—the lead remains partly cut now.

CHARLES HAWES (police-constable S 295.) In consequence of information, I went on the 11th of Feb. to the brewhouse—I found a piece of lead was gone, and a piece of it was cut in several places, but not quite through.

Prisoner. I worked seven weeks, and only received 8s. out of 21s.; he told me to do any little job; I got on the top and cleaned the gutter out, he came and asked me about a game hen; I said I had not seen it; he then said I might go home, and come on Monday for my money; I went on Monday, and he accused me of this lead; he did not know how to get me off the premises, because he owed me this money; and on the Tuesday I was taken; he told the policeman not to take me unless I ran in his way.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-910
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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910. MARY ANN FIELD was indicted for stealing, on the 1st of Feb., 32 handkerchiefs, value 30s., the goods of Abraham Harris.

ABRAHAM HARRIS . I am a general dealer, and live in Chapel-street, Marylebone. On the 1st of Feb. I had twenty cotton handkerchiefs in one pile, and twelve silk handkerchiefs in another, at the corner of my window—the window had been broken a little, and I had placed a pasteboard against it—I saw the handkerchiefs safe at eight o'clock that evening, and the next morning, when I was taking down my shutters at half-past seven o'clock, I missed them—I found the pasteboard had been removed, and the glass was more broken than before—I saw three of the handkerchiefs afterwards at the station—these now produced are them.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How do you identify them? A. By having others like them at home.

MARY NEW . I am the wife of John New—I live in Little Church-street, Lisson-grove—On Thursday morning, the 2nd of Feb., the prisoner knocked at my door; my little girl opened it—I was in the passage, and she asked me if either of my sons wanted to purchase handkerchiefs—I said no, but my eldest son was not at home—if she would leave them till he came home she might—she said she was in distress—I advanced her 1s., and she left two of the handkerchiefs—at eleven o'clock she brought another handkerchief—my son was not come in, and I lent her 2s. more on them—she came again at six in the evening; I said I had not wanted them, and I got a friend to pledge them for 4s.—I gave her the ticket and the remaining 1s.—I had known her before for eight years in the neighbourhood—these are the three handkerchiefs that I had of her.

Cross-examined. Q. Her husband is a respectable man? A. Yes, I always understood so—I never heard any thing wrong of her character.

MARGARET DEANE . I live in Union-street, Lisson-grove. I pledged three handkerchiefs for Mrs. New—I gave her the duplicate and the money.

JOHN KINDER CHEESE . I am shopman to Mr. Alexander, a pawnbroker—these three handkerchiefs were pawned by Deane.

WILLIAM JONES (police-sergeant D 10.) I took Mrs. New and Deane into custody, and from what they said I took the prisoner—I told her it was about some handkerchiefs she left at New's—she said she knew nothing about them.

Prisoner's Defence. I do not know where the shop is—I found them.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY . Aged 34.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Four Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-925
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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925. THOMAS SARGENT was indicted for embezzling 4l. 11s. 1 1/2 d., the monies of Mark Teversham, his master.

GUILTY . Aged 39.— Confined Twelve Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-926
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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926. JOHN BROWN was indicted for stealing, on the 22nd of Feb., 28 yards of serge, value 1l. 8s., the goods of John Shields Thompson and another.

WILLIAM STEVENS . I live in Brazier's-buildings, Farringdon-street—on the night of the 22nd of Feb. I saw the prisoner standing inside Mr. Thompson's shop, on Holborn-hill, near Hatton-garden—I watched and saw him take a roll of cloth off a pile about two yards inside the door—I caught hold of his arm directly he came out, and he dropped the cloth—I took him.

WILLIAM HAWSLER . I am shopman to Mr. John Shield Thompson and his brother—they are linen drapers on Holborn-hill—this piece of cloth is theirs—it is called serge—it is made of woollen and cotton—it was on a pile by the door—a person in the street brought it in.

Prisoner's Defence. I went into the shop to beg for a few halfpence—the gentleman said he could do nothing for me—I came out, and this young man took me—he said he saw me take the cloth, and I did not take it.

GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-927
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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927. HENRY MILLER was indicted for embezzlement.

CATHERINE ATTEN . I am the wife of James Atten, who keeps the Leaping-bar yard, Hammersmith—I dealt with Mr. Shore for bread two years ago—the prisoner used to bring it and take the money for it once a week—sometimes I paid him 4s. 6d., and sometimes 5s.

JOHN JONES (police-constable T 31.) I took the prisoner, for absconding from his master about two years ago—he said it was all arranged, and he had seen Mr. Shore twice within the fortnight.

WILLIAM HENRY SHORE . I am a baker, and live at Turnham-green. In 1841 I was carrying on business in Hammersmith, and the prisoner was in my service—in March, 1841, Mrs. Atten dealt with me—it was the prisoner's duty to take bread and deliver it—when he left me Mrs. Atten owed me 1l. 1s. 8d.—the prisoner paid me nothing at all of that account—he left me on Monday, the 15th of March, 1841—the first time I saw him again was at Kensington, when he was apprehended, which was two years after he left me—I had given notice to be in search of him.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-928
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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928. HENRY MILLER was again indicted for embezzlement, and that he had been before convted of felony.

RICHARD PAGE . I am a labourer, and live at Hammersmith. I dealt with Mr. Shore for bread—I took the bread of the prisoner—I knew it was Mr.

Shore's property, and intended the money I paid for it to come to Mr. Shore's hands—the prisoner was his servant—on the 6th of March, 1841, I paid the prisoner 7s., and on the 13th of March I paid him 7s. again, for Mr. Shore.

WILLIAM HENRY SHORE . I am a baker. The prisoner was in my service—it was his duty to take out bread, and to bring me back the money—on the 7th of March, 1841, he brought me 5s. 8 1/2 d. on account of Mr. Page, for money due for bread—on the 13th or 14th of March he did not pay me any money whatever.

Prisoner's Defence. I took these two customers on my own account, and he told me if I trusted them I should be accountable; I often paid it out of my own pocket on Saturday night, because it should not run back; I have been away from him ever since, but I have been in Hammersmith, and I dare say he has seen me about.

EDWARD FLOWER (police-constable T 42.) I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction, which I got at Mr. Clark's office—(read)—the prisoner is the person who was then convicted.

GUILTY . Aged 40.— Transported for Seven Years.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 28th, 1843.

Sixth Jury, before Mr. Common Sergeant.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-905a
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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905. RADIGEAN JANE HANKS was indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Feb., 1 printed book, value 1s. 6d. the goods of Isaac Gregory; to which she pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 39.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-906a
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment; Corporal > whipping

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906. EDWARD PERROTT was indicted for stealing, on the 10th of Feb., 5lbs. weight of pork, value 1s. 6d. and 1 ticket, 3d. the goods of Daniel Gunston and another; to which be pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 15.— Confined Seven Days and Whipped.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-907a
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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907. JAMES KILNER was indicted for stealing, on the 16th of Feb., 6 pairs of stockings, 1l. 3s.; and 12 pairs of gloves, 1l. 2s.; the goods of Isaac Wilson and others, his masters; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-908a
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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908. WILLIAM SARGEANT was indicted for stealing, on the 3rd of Jan., 3 pints of radish seed, value 2s.; and 1 pair of boots, 1s.; the goods of Moses Salter; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-909a
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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909. PHILIP WOODLAND was indicted for stealing, on the 31st of Jan., 23 yards of calico, value 5s. 9d.; and 36 handkerchiefs, 36s.; the goods of Levi Sampson, his master.

MR. HERRIES conducted the Prosecution.

ISAAC SAMPSON . I am the son of Levi Sampson, a slop-seller—he has a warehouse in Vine-street, and a retail shop in Whitechapel—the prisoner was in his service—on the 31st of Jan., I called him down stairs at my father's warehouse, and when he came I said, "I thought his pockets were very bulky, and asked him to let me feel—he pushed my hand away, and said it was only his handkerchief—I said, "There was a piece of red, and a piece of white calico out of his pocket"—he went up stairs—I followed him, and he pulled out of his pocket this piece of calico, and three dozen of handkerchiefs—I told him this was the property that he had pulled out of his pocket

—he swore and said they were not—I told him to come down stairs, but there was no policeman about—when I was outside the door, he said, "For God's sake do not make a disturbance at all"—he went away afterwards—I asked him if he would come in the morning—he said, "Yes," but he did not come at all—I went with a policeman to look for him next day—we found his wife—the officer watched, and in about half an hour he and his wife came out together—he was taken.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. How long had he been in your father's employ? A. About five weeks—I saw him take these things out of his pocket.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 36.— Confined One Year.

(There were two other indictments against the prisoner.)

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-910a
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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910. WILLIAM GRAY and EDWARD COLEMAN were indicted for stealing, on the 6th of Feb., 28lbs. weight of sugar, value 19s.; the goods of William Steel Hoppen.

WILLIAM STEEL HOPPEN . I keep a shop in Church-street, Bethnal-green. On the 6th of Feb., I left my shop about a quarter before nine o'clock at night—I left my brother there—I had then three loaves of sugar in my window—I returned about a quarter past eleven, and heard that one loaf of sugar had been stolen—I went to the station, and saw the sugar there—I am sure it is mine—this is it.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What mark have you on it? A. No. 31—it is the mark of the manufacturer.

SAMUEL HOPPEN . I was at the shop on the 6th of Feb.—the sugar was safe at nine o'clock, and a little after ten a policeman came, and it was gone.

GEORGE BALL (police-constable H 121.) On the 6th of Feb., about ten o'clock at night, I was on duty, and saw Coleman come out of a beer-shop in Cock-lane, within two doors of Mr. Hoppen's shop—he went round to Church-street, and in half a minute returned with Gray—they were speaking together—Gray had this loaf of sugar under his arm—they then parted—Coleman went back to Church-street, and Gray went up Old Cock-lane—I followed him—when he got to the corner of Old Nichol-street, he ran, and I pursued—he dropped the sugar and I picked it up.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. Did you stop to pick up the sugar? A. Yes, I turned round Cross-street, and went into a shop, and put it there, to be taken care of, then ran after them—I met Coleman with his cap in his hand, and took him—I saw Baker take Gray as he was standing against a wall—I had him in my sight about a minute.

COURT. Q. Have you any doubt that Gray is the man? A. I have no doubt of him, I have known him for some time personally—I have been on duty where he lives.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-911
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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911. ANN WRIGHT was indicted for stealing, on the 12th of Feb., 1 pair of trowsers, value 10s. 6d.; and 1 shawl, 2d.; the goods of George Norris.

GEORGE NORRIS . I live in Phoenix-court, West Smithfield. About half-past two o'clock in the morning, on the 12th of Feb., I was in a coffee-shop in Long-lane—the prisoner was there—I had a pair of trowsers with me—I fell asleep, and when I awoke the trowsers and the prisoner were gone—I informed the policeman, and he took me to the prisoner's lodging—she was in my company when I fell asleep—she was there when I went in, and sat in the same box—these trowsers were found out of the window where she lodges, about five minutes before three o'clock.

Prisoner. You was not near my place, you could not find the trowsers. Witness. I did not say I found them—I came to your place with the policeman—I was not there when you were there—the policeman had the bundle, and you were in the station.

THOMAS SMITH (City police-constable, No. 270.) I received information about a quarter to three o'clock—I went to her place and knocked at the door—the prisoner said, "Who is there?"—I said, "The police"—she went away to the window—I broke open the door, and saw her at the window with the property in her hand, and she threw them out—I went down and got them—this shawl was with them.

Prisoner. I was lighting a candle when he burst open the door—I had no trowsers. Witness. I went down and picked them up—I saw them in her hand—she lifted the window and chucked them out—there was no one else in the room then—there was a man there when I went back to search.

Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about the trousers—he took me down two pair of stairs, another man and an officer met him, and said, "Here are the trowsers; we have got them"—I was in the coffee-shop, but I had no communication with any of them.

GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-912
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

912. GEORGE BROWN and ALFRED WILLIAMS were indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 10 bags, value 2l.; and 2 ounces of gum, 6d.; the goods of Daniel Deacon and others.

JAMES DEACON . I live in Cripplegate-buildings—I am in partnership with my brother Daniel; and we have other partners.

WILLIAM CHAPMAN . I am in the employ of Mr. Grant, at Ponder's End—I packed up ten empty bags on the 9th of Feb.—there were nine rolled up together, and put into another sack, and a small parcel of gum, as a sample, was enclosed with them—this is the parcel of gum, and these are the bags—I packed them up to go to Cripplegate by Deacon's wagon—the parcel was directed to Grote and Co.—I delivered the parcel to William Hart, our porter, to take to the Two Brewers' public-house, and to leave it there—Hart is not here.

EDWARD LEE . I am guard of Mr. Deacon's wagon—on the 11th of Feb., about five o'clock in the evening, I received ten bags at the Two Brewers, and brought them up to Mr. Deacon's yard, the White Horse, at Cripplegate.

ROBERT PACKHAM (City police-constable, No. 133.) I was on duty about seven o'clock in the evening of the 11th of Feb. in Barbican, in private clothes—I saw Brown going along with this bale of bags on his back—Williams was walking by his side—this was about a quarter of a mile from Mr. Deacon's—I had some doubt whether it was all right, as the parcel appeared very heavy—I turned and followed them—when they got some distance, they turned back to back, and relieved one another of the load—they then went on and rested it on a window-seat—I went up and said, "What have you got here?"—Brown said, "Why?"—I said, "I am apoliceman; I wish to know"—Brown said, "We brought it from Fetter-lane, and are going to take it a little higher up"—I said, "I will walk with you"—they went on, relieving one another occasionally, till they got to Islington—they went on for some distance, changing now and then—one said, "We have come by the street"—they then turned and went down James-street, then went on; and one of them said, "We have come past the house"—they turned back, and knocked at the door of No. 18—a woman opened it—they pitched the parcel in, and they went in—in a short time they came out—I stopped Williams and said, "Is all right?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Come back; we will

have an explanation"—I took them into the house, and the woman said she knew nothing about it—I then took them into custody.

WILLIAM HORN (police-constable G 188.) I was sent for—Brown told me it would be best to speak the truth, and that they stole them from a cart standing in Cripplegate-buildings—Williams went out through the passage into the back yard—the other officer went after him and brought him back—he denied knowing any thing about it.

BROWN— GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Four Months.

WILLIAMS†— GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Six Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-913
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown

Related Material

913. ANDREW BURKE, RICHARD PITT , and CHARLES HOLLOWAY , were indicted for stealing, on the 21st of Feb., 1 bag, value 5d., and 71 1/2 yards of hessian, 30s.; the goods of Joseph Blackburn, the master of Burke.

JOSEPH BLACKBURN . I live in Worm wood-street—Burke was my errand-boy—he was generally left in charge of my shop from one to two o'clock in the day, while the others went to dinner—on the 21st of Feb. I received information, and missed a bag and some hessian—this is the bag and the hessian—the mark is on it—it comes to us in this state—this is a foreign bag, and this is mine also—I found the bag and hessian about four o'clock the same afternoon, in the officer's hands—if it had been taken from my place between one and two o'clock, it could not have been taken without Burke's knowledge, if he had done his duty—they were in the same part of my shop, but were separate.

THOMAS DUNGLESON (City police-constable, No. 102.) About two o'clock, on the 21st of Feb., I was at the top of Fore-street—a person pointed out Pitt to me, and said he thought what Pitt had on his head was not right—Pitt had this package on his head—I followed him nearly to the top of Redcross-street—I then saw an officer, and pointed to him to stand in front of Pitt, which, he did—I came up and asked Pitt what he had got—he said he brought it from a packer's, at No. 7, Wood-street—I said there was no packer at No. 7, Wood-street—I took him to the station, and in the afternoon I found the prosecutor—just as Pitt was pointed out to me, I saw Holloway a few yards in advance of him—I did not see him speak to Pitt.

DENNIS HUDE . I am an officer of Cripplegate. I saw Pitt in Cripplegate-buildings, which is nearer to the prosecutor's than Fore-street—I saw him before the policeman—I pointed him out to the policeman—when I first saw Pitt, Holloway was alongside of him—directly Holloway saw me (he knew me) he crossed over to the other side, and went on—I knew both the prisoners by being together, and the company they keep.

Pitt's Defence. I was coming along Wood-street, and a gentleman said, "Take this along, I will follow you; go down Wood-street and up Redcross-street;" he said he would give me something for it.

Burkes Defence. I know nothing of it.

Holloway's Defence. I know nothing of it; I was not with Pitt.

PITT— GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined One Year.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-914
VerdictsGuilty > with recommendation; Guilty > with recommendation

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914. CATHERINE POWERS was indicted for stealing, on the 23rd of Dec, 6 printed books, value 6l., the goods of Daniel Exley and another, his masters; and THOMAS KEARNEY , for feloniously receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen; against the Statute, &c.

MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.

DANIEL EXLEY . I live in Red Lion-court, Fleet-street, and am a book-binder; I have one partner. Powers worked for me, as a book-folder and

sewer, on and off, for about two years—the last time she worked for me about eighteen weeks—between Oct. and Dec. last I received 500 copies of Campbell's Poetical Works to be bound—I directed Curran to count the copies on the 20th of Dec.—I had delivered 481 copies of the work to the publisher previous to the 7th of Feb., when some of them were missed—the officer came to my house on the 7th of Feb.—I examined my stock, and eight copies were deficient—Powers had been employed on that work as a folder, and was then in my employ—some of the copies are here—there is a doubt about two of them being sewed at my place, but these three (looking at them) I think I can answer for as being sewed at my place—some were kept up stairs in the top shop, and some down stairs—Powers had access to them—they are worth 1l. a copy—Kearney was not in my employ—I firmly believe that these three books formed a part of the eight that were missing.

Cross-examined by MR. DOANE. Q. What number of books do you stitch in the course of six months? A. It all depends on the quantity of work we have—in the course of the last six months perhaps we have done some thousands, but not of this work—we have sometimes fourteen, sixteen, or eighteen stitchers—at the time we had these books we might have ten stitchers—I cannot tell who stitched these, but I dare say my fore-woman can tell their work—there was none done anywhere else—I can tell that this one was stitched at my premises, as it is tinged round the edge by a fire we had at my premises—my attention was called to this one after the fire—I will swear this one was stitched at my premises, because of this mark—my attention was called to this one being singed on the 7th of Feb., but I saw it directly after the fire, on the 5th or 6th of Jan.—there might have been a dozen copies singed—I sent 481 copies to Mr. Moxon's, and I have a receipt for them in my book—I did not see them sent or received—I can take my oath that this one that is singed did not go to Mr. Moxon's, because there never was one bound in the style this is—they went boarded to Mr. Moxon'g—I might have seen all those that went to Mr. Moxon's—I did not open every copy that went—we considered Powers a well-conducted and honest young woman—there were 2,000 copies in the edition, but only 500 were perfected—there was no waste at all in the 500—there was not sufficient to perfect the 500, and we had some to make them up—some sheets were imperfect—I believe there was but one printer engaged in this work—the folios were printed in the same establishment.

ANN CURRAN . I am wife of John Curran, and am forewoman to the prosecutor. A little before Christmas I counted the perfect copies of this work—there were 500 of them.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you remember the imperfection that the prosecutor has spoken of? A. Yes, I counted them after they had been completed by others being sent for—I made up 500, and made a memorandum of them at the time—Powers has been under my employ, and has always conducted herself modestly and honestly.

JOHN HOWDEN SIMPSON . I am a bookbinder, and live in Brunswick-street, St. John-street-road. Kearney is an apprentice to my employer—on the 24th of Dec. he asked me if I would get two books done in boards for a friend of his—he said they were up stairs in a piece of paper, and I think he said they were "Campbell's Poems"—all that I did, as I was busy, was to cut out two dark green covers for them—one of these books is in dark green embossed cloth, like that I cut, but there is so much of that cloth that it is impossible to swear to it—I am inclined to think this may be it.

Cross-examined. Q. Can you swear it was not purple? A. Yes—I

will swear that they were green—I have known Kearney three years and a half—I never had the slightest suspicion of his honesty.

WILLIAM CAULCUT . I am in the service of Mr. Boyce, a pawnbroker, in Theobalds-road. One of these books was pawned at my master's on the 4th of Feb. by Kearney, in the name of John Kearney.

HENRY WINCH . I am in the service of Mr. Allen, a pawnbroker. Two of these books I took in of Powers on the 14th of Jan.—she pawned them in the name of Ann Moore, No. 7, Hollis-street—she said they belonged to her father, who was a bookbinder—he had bought them in sheets, and had them bound up.

JOSHUA LEAMINGTON . I live at No. 7, Hollis-street, Clare-market. I am a bookbinder—Powers lodged with me about thirteen weeks—during that time Kearney came to see her almost every evening.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you not reason to believe that he was paying his addresses to her? A. Yes—he came as nothing more than a sweet-heart.

JOHN BRADDICK (police-sergeant A 30.) On the 6th of Feb. I met Kearney in Broad-street, St. Giles's—I followed him to Russell-court, and asked if he had a copy of Campbell's works—he said, "No"—shortly after he said, "I bought a ticket of a man"—I said, "Have you not a ticket of one of them about you?"—he said, "No"—I took him to the station, and found on him the ticket of the book pawned in Theobalds-road—on the following morning he told me he bought the ticket of a man named Brown.

CHARLES BURGESS GOFF (police-constable A 28.) I saw Kearney on the night of the 6th of Feb. in Russell-court—I followed him to No. 7, Hollis-street—he knocked, and went in—I took Powers on the 7th, at her employers—I asked her if she knew a young man named Thomas Kearney—she said, "No"—I said I took her on suspicion of stealing four books—she said nothing, but on the way to the station she said, "I did take the books; it was through distress; and I gave them to Thomas to get bound."

(The prisoners received good characters.)



Recommended to mercy.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-915
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

915. WILLIAM HODGES was indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Jan., 1 truck, value 1l. 5s., the goods of Thomas Chapman.

THOMAS CHAPMAN . I had a truck—I saw it safe at five o'clock on the morning of the 9th of Jan.—I missed it about seven the same morning—I found it in possession of Smith.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What are you? A. A costermonger—my truck was opposite my own door, at No. 5, Almonry, Westminster—I got up at five that morning—I did not see the prisoner about—I do not know him—my name is not on the truck—I had had it three years—I know it by there being something the matter with one of the spokes of the wheel, and the fellies are riveted.

ISAAC SMITH . I live in Hollywell-place, Shoreditch—I bought this truck of the prisoner on the 9th of January.

Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A costermonger, and live in Holy well-place—I bought the truck in Union-street, in the open street, for 12s.—I asked the prisoner whether he had it to sell—I was going to Tower-hill to look at a truck that was to be sold—one of the wheels is rather bad—we asked the prisoner where he lived, and he gave us a false address—I had never seen him before he was dragging the truck—Howard was with me—we were going to Tower-hill, to look at a truck, where we heard there was one to sell—Howard came to me about nine o'clock, or half-past—we started

from a coffee-shop, in Church-street, Shoreditch—we were about ten minutes in bargaining.

SAMUEL HOWARD . I was present when Smith bought the truck of the prisoner, on the 9th of Jan.

Cross-examined. Q. How came you to be with Smith? A. I had nothing to do, and he asked me to take a walk with him—I met him at a coffee-shop, about nine o'clock—it might be ten when we went out—we saw the truck in Union-street, and Smith asked the prisoner if he wanted to sell it—he was pushing it before him—I had never seen him before—I asked where he lived when he was at home, if we should want anything with this—I know he is the man, for I stood talking to him, I suppose for two minutes.

HENRY JOWETT (City police-constable, No. 638.) I took the prisoner—he said he knew nothing about it.

GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-916
VerdictsGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown

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916. FREDERICK CASTLE and RICHARD MORRIS were indicted for stealing, on the 3rd of Feb., 12 sacks, value 12s.; and 48 bushels of canary-seed, 20l.; the goods of Benjamin Smith and another; and JOHN CLEMENTS , for feloniously receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen; against the Statute, &c.

MR. DOANE conducted the Prosecution.

JANE BROWN . I am servant to Mr. Hartland, of Trigg-lane, Thames-street. On Friday, the 3rd of Feb., I was at one of our up-stairs' windows, about one o'clock—I could see Mr. Smith's warehouse very plainly indeed—I know the top of the shoot called the hopper—I saw Castle go and take the lid off the shoot—that did not attract my attention—I was called down—I did not see anything further—I afterwards gave the officer a description of the person I had seen.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. When did you tell the officer? A. On the Friday afternoon—I went up to my own room just before one o'clock, and was up there some time—my room is two stories high—Mr. Smith's premises are higher than ours—I cannot say how wide the lane is—the houses are near to each other—all I saw was the man take the top off the shoot—he was facing me—he was quite level with our floor—the shoot is a very little way from the wall—there is no yard in the street—the shoot goes quite out to Trigg-lane—I did not see the man more than a minute or two—I am not mistaken in this.

MR. DOANE. Q. Had you seen Castle before? A. Yes, a great many times—I have no doubt that it was him that took off the lid of the hopper.

WILLIAM CUFFLEY . I am warehouseman to Benjamin Smith and Son. On Friday, the 3rd of Feb., I went to dinner at a little past one o'clock, which is the time the men leave the warehouse for dinner—I then left eighteen sacks of canary-seed safe—I returned at a quarter past two—I directly saw some of the canary-seed was gone, I missed twelve sacks of it, and found twelve empty sacks there—the shoot goes out into Trigg-lane, and I found some marks of the seed in Trigg-lane, under the bottom of the shoot, where a small quantity of the seed had been spilt, and laid on the stones—there is a crane attached to the premises—a person could climb up that crane, and get in or out of the warehouse, and get to the loop-hole very easily—the loop-hole is large enough for a man to get in—I know Castle—he had no business at my masters that day, and had no right to be near this hopper—he had worked at Mr. Rathbone's, who is the proprietor of the wharf, but not at my master's.

JOHN BURR . I am in the service of Mr. Rathbone, of Trigg-wharf. I

was on the premises on the 3rd of Feb.—I saw Castle come off the wharf about ten minutes or a quarter before two o'clock.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How many different persons' premises are there? A. Three—I merely saw Castle coming off the wharf—there is no thoroughfare there but merely a way to the three sets of premises—Mr. Smith's premises go from Thames-street, and Mr. Rathbone's go off the wharf.

WILLIAM HURCOMB . I live in King-street, Borough, and am a carman. Our carts stand on Tower-hill—on Thursday, the 2nd of Feb., a man spoke to me, and on Friday I sent Burchell with ahorse and cart to Trigg-lane.

JOHN BURCHELL . In consequence of what Mr. Hurcomb told me I took the horse and cart on Friday, the 3rd of Feb., to Trigg-lane—I got there about one o'clock—I waited a few minutes, and the prisoner Morris beckoned me—when I got up to him he told me to back under the shoot of Mr. Smith, in Trigg-lane—when I got under the shoot I saw some sacks thrown into the cart from somewhere above—they were then filled with canary-seed—Morris ordered me to load, and he assisted me—there were twelve sacks, and when they were filled, he told me to go towards Smithfield—I did so—some one came to me in Cheapside, and went with me—I saw Morris afterwards at the Horse and Groom yard in St John-street—I got there about three o'clock—I saw Clements there—I told Clements I must take the hoops off my cart, as I could not get under the gateway without—I do not remember that he said anything to that, but he told me to put the sacks into the stable, and I put them there.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you know the premises of the Horse and Groom which are kept by Clements? A. No—I saw some carts there—he made no secret of what he was doing—I left the stable-door open—I did not notice the name of any person on the sacks that the seed was in.

COURT. Q. What sort of premises are they? A. Large enough to hold a number of carts—there were several carts there—I did Dot see any ware-house.

JOHN HUGILL (City police-constable, No. 416.) I went to the Horse and Groom yard the next day—it appears like a stable-yard—there were several market-carts, and horses in the stable, and several countrymen about the yard—there was a very small warehouse—I saw Clements and another person—I said to Clements, "You have got twelve sacks of seed here, have not you?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Will you show it me?"—he said, "Yes"—it was about twelve o'clock in the day—he got a light, and went and showed us the seed in the last stall in the stable—the farthest stall from St. John-street—Mr. Smith was with me—he identified the sacks of seed—I then asked Clements if he had got any note with them, or if they were booked—he said no, and he was not in the habit of booking articles—I asked who brought them—he said he did not know the party—he did not say any more, but came with me to the station—he said they were to be left till called for—I said they were stolen, and I must take them—he said, "Very well."

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. He gave you every information? A. Yes, and went to the station to see if he could identify the person who brought the sacks—he went voluntarily before the Magistrate, and afterwards went home—on the Thursday following he went voluntarily again, and then the Magistrate thought proper to change his place to that of a prisoner—from the beginning to the end there was no disposition to obstruct my endeavours on the part of Clements—he lent us every assistance he could.

DANIEL COCKERILL (City police-constable, No. 314.) I took Castle into

custody on Friday night, at the corner of Lambeth-hill—I said he must go with me to the station—I did not say what for—I had been to Jane Brown before, and it was in consequence of what she said, I took Castle—Castle afterwards said he saw Cuffley go to his dinner, and saw him come back—he said there had been a row about some seed before.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How far is the corner of Lambeth-hill from Trigg-wharf? A. About twenty yards.

CHARLES THOMAS GAYLER (City police-constable, No, 348.) I took Morris on Sunday evening—he said he knew nothing about it, he was miles away from the place at the time, but on Monday he said he had 6d. for his job.

WILLIAM SMITH . I am the son of Benjamin Smith, he has one partner—I went with the officer to Clement's yard, and saw the sacks with my father's name on them.

Morris's Defence. I was out of work, and was walking along Thames-street; a man met me, who was coming from Trigg-lane with some keys; he asked me to assist in loading his cart with seed, and he would pay me, and I did so; and when I came out, he asked if I would help to unload it; I asked where it was going; he said, "To the Horse and Groom, in St. John-street;" I went, and left the cart under the shed, and he asked me to have a drop of beer; when I went back the cart was gone; I went on to St. John-street, and assisted in unloading it.

(Mr. Richard Meager, of Helmet-court, Upper Thames-street, gave Castle a good character.)



Transported for Seven Years.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-927a
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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927. ANN REID and MARY ANN HILL were indicted for stealing, on the 9th of Feb., 6 handkerchiefs, value 10s., the goods of James Daw.

JAMES COUSINS . I am assistant to James Daw, a draper. He had some goods placed outside his shop on the 9th of Feb.—I saw the two prisoners come to the shop—they looked at some silk handkerchiefs, and after looking at them some time, they went and looked at some cotton ones which were close by on the left—they then commenced turning up the silk ones—Hill pulled one of the pieces off the shutter, and it fell down on the ground—I saw her take it in her hand, and challenged her with doing it—she said she was very sorry she did not wish to injure the goods—she then bought a cotton handkerchief, and both went in together to pay for it—when they came out she said she had been in and bought one and paid for it—a person then came up and asked the price of some flannel which I told them—I then turned round and saw Reid with a quantity of silk handkerchiefs in her possession—I ran and took them from her hand—she had got about two yards from the shop with them—they were under her cloak—these are them—she was walking off with them—I caught them before they dropped from her hand.

Reid. Q. Did you not see me pick them off the ground? Witness. No—I did not shove either of you inside the shop—I took you inside.

COURT. Q. How far had she got from the shop? A. Two or three yards—this was after they had been inside and paid for the cotton handkerchief.

Reid's Defence. They were lying on the ground, he told Hill to go in and pay, and he shoved us both in; he took them from me and said, "This is what I want;" I never went into the shop; if I had had an intention of concealing them I should have done so; he knows he saw me stoop and pick them up.

Hill's Defence. I purchased a cotton handkerchief; he told me to go inside and pay for it; he shoved us into the shop, and said we were both intending to steal them; I was not aware that I knocked them down if I did.

(Hill received a good character.)

REID— GUILTY . Aged 45.

HILL— GUILTY . Aged 31.

Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-928a
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

Related Material

928. JOHN CHAPMAN and JOHN THOMAS SPIGET were indicted for stealing, on the 8th of Feb., 2 chairs, value 5s., the goods of William Bowden; and that Chapman had been before convicted of felony.

WILLIAM BOWDEN . I live in White-horse-alley, Cow-cross—I had two chairs in my shop on the 8th of Feb., a little after five o'clock—they were missed a few minutes afterwards, and I saw them again before six—these are them.

SAMUEL WHALEY . The prisoner Chapman brought these chairs and left them with me.

JOHN WHALEY . I am the uncle of Samuel Whaley—after he had taken in the chairs, Chapman came in about a quarter of an hour to my door, and said, "I brought two chairs here, will you buy them?"—"No," says I, "not without I know where you got them from"—he said, "You know me very well, I live so and so"—I said, "I must know whether you do live there or no"—he said, "You may go with me, if you like, and see"—I said, "I will"—as we were going along, we met Spiget—Chapman said, "Mr. Whaley won't buy these chairs without he goes home with me"—Spiget said, "They are not your chairs, they are mine"—I said, "They are yours, are they?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "Down Saffron-hill"—I gave them into custody.

Chapman's Defence. I showed him this young man who said they were his; he had asked me to sell them for him.

Spiget's Defence. I bought them of a man in the street.

WILLIAM HIBBS (police-constable E 72.) I produce a certificate of Chapman's former conviction, which I got at Mr. Clark's office—(read)—he is the person so tried and convicted.


SPIGET*— GUILTY . Aged 18.

Confined One year.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 1st, 1843.

Fifth Jury, before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-929
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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929. THOMAS HODSON DAVIS was indicted for stealing, on the 14th of Jan., 2 sheets, value 9s.; and 1 pillow-case, 6d.; the goods of John Crellin: also, on the 27th of Jan., 2 sheets, 8s.; and 1 counterpane, 4s.; the goods of Mark Ludwig Burle: also, on the 19th of Jan., 1 sheet, 6s.; and 1 blanket, 2s.; the goods of Margaret Jane Woodgates and others: to all of which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 20.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-930
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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930. GEORGE HARDING was indicted for stealing, on the 3rd of Feb., 1 pair of shoes, value 10d., the goods of Dinah Custance; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Six Weeks.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-931
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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931. EDWARD HUGHES was indicted for stealing, on the 22nd of Feb., 2 coats, value 30s., the goods of John Charles Cording; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-932
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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932. HENRY WILLIAMS was indicted for stealing, on the 22nd of Feb., 1 shawl, value 12s., the goods of Ann Cross; and 1 shawl, value 1s., the goods of Mary Ann Williams; and that he had been before convicted of felony; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 24.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-933
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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933. JOSEPH SAUNDERS was indicted for stealing, on the 4th of Feb., 1 box, value 3s.; 5 sovereigns, 1 half-sovereign; and 1 order for the payment of 256l. 10s.; the property of Hester Roberts, from her person.

HESTER ROBERTS . I am a widow, and live in Turkey-street, Enfield. On the 4th of Feb. I was removing goods from one house to the Dairy Arms, in Turkey-street—I employed the prisoner to assist me—I stood a pot or two of porter, as he did not charge me any money—Taylor and Ellis were there—I was busy getting my things away, because I was stinted to time—the prisoner's wife had some beer—I had received from Joseph Jessop, of Waltham Abbey, a cheque for 250l.—I had five sovereigns and a half—I took the box out of my pocket, and put it into my apron when I got to my new house, but I found I had a sixpence, and did not open the box—the prisoner took it out of my lap to look at—I said, "Take care of that box, it is a favourite box of mine"—I never saw it again—Mrs. Taylor was gone for a pot of porter—the box was worth about half-a-crown.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. You have known the prisoner a long time? A. Six or seven years—I always had a very good opinion of him—I did not see him put the box down—he had gone half an hour before I saw the policeman—when Mrs. Taylor came in I told her my box was gone—I do not recollect that Taylor wanted to look at the box—I had had half a pint of beer—I had not drunk a considerable quantity—when I do not eat much half-a-pint of beer makes my head light—we had had part of two or three pots—I was not a little tipsy—I was warm and comfortable.

JOSEPH JESSOP . I am a solicitor, and live at Waltham Abbey, Essex. On the 4th of Feb., I drew a cheque on Prescott and Co., for 256l. 10s. and gave it to the prosecutrix that afternoon—I was to give her this money on condition of her giving up to me the house she was living in—I saw the prisoner and another man helping her to move—I waited till the prisoner went up stairs, and then handed her the cheque—she did not put it away while I remained—in consequence of what I heard I wrote to the bankers to stop the payment, and went to the bankers myself.

MARY TAYLOR . I am the wife of John Taylor, and live in Turkey-street, Enfield—I went with Mrs. Ellis to the prosecutrix's on the 4th of Feb., about a quarter past six o'clock—Mrs. Roberts, the prisoner, John Taylor, and Ellis, were there—Mrs. Roberts was a little the worse for liquor, and Taylor also—the prisoner's wife came in—Mrs. Roberts said, "Now, won't you stand a pot? I don't wish you to be all; I will be a pot as well as you"—Ellis said she had no money—then Roberts took a small box out of her pocket—she shook it—there was something in it, she said, "I must take care of this box"—the prisoner took it out of her hand—John Taylor said, "Saunders, give me the box, let me take care of it"—the prisoner answered, "No, I can take care of the box"—he had got it when I left the house—I staid five or ten minutes, and left Saunders, John Taylor, and Roberts there—Mrs. Ellis went out with me—I went with Ellis again to Roberts the same evening—Roberts said, "Let us have another half-pint of beer"—I said, "I don't want any more, we will have half a pint, and give it up"—Roberts

pulled out a penny, and said, "Here is my penny to yours"—I had no penny and gave Taylor a shilling, to get a pot—Roberts then missed her box—I searched and could not find it—I said she had better send to Saunders to know what he had done with it—he had been gone nearly an hour.

Cross-examined. Q. After you saw Saunders with the box, how long was it before you went in again, and Roberts discorered her loss? A. Near upon three hours—she had not found out her loss when I went into the house—she proposed sending out for the beer, and then she said, "I have lost my box, with all my property in it"—I had been there nearly an hour, the second time, before she discovered her loss—when I went in the second time she was very merry and cheerful—she gets tipsy now and then—she had had something to drink before she went before the Magistrate—the prisoner and Taylor were the only men there—I cannot say whether the prisoner was a little gone—I heard him say but very few words—we were all very merry—he had the box in his hand when I left the room, and Taylor was there with him—Taylor said, "Let me have it to take care of—the policeman was not called while I was there—I was gone home and gone to bed—I have heard that some ladies have subscribed for the defence of the prisoner.

MARY ELLIS . I am the wife of James Ellis, a labourer, who lives in Turkey-street, Enfield. I was at the prosecutrix's house, when the prisoner and his wife were there, with John Taylor and Mrs. Taylor—Mrs. Roberts took a box out of her lap, and asked if I would stand a pot of beer—she shook the box, and said, "I don't want you to be all, I will be part as well as you"—I heard a rattling in the box—I came out to get some money—upon my return, I found Mrs. Roberts had got the box—I never saw it again—I went in again about nine o'clock in the evening, and assisted in searching for the box, but could not find it.

Cross-examined. Q. How much beer did you have among the whole company? A. Four pots and a pint—I paid sixpence towards it, threepence for myself, and threepence for Mrs. Taylor—I went out with Mrs. Taylor the first time—I work for Mr. Walker, out in the fields—the prosecurrix and the prisoner were very good friends—I had a good opinion of him—I had been to Enfield, and my shop things were in my basket.

HENRY JORDAN (police-constable N 96.)—About twenty minutes to twelve o'clock on the night of the 4th of Feb. I received information—I went to Mrs. Roberts and asked what she had lost, she said a small box, a cheque for 250l., four sovereigns and a half—I apprehended the prisoner—he said if he took it, he had no recollection of it—I did not find it any where I searched him, and his wife, and his house.

JOHN TAYLOR . I was there that day—I do not recollect seeing the box.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-934
VerdictsGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

Related Material

934. HENRY WARDROP was indicted for stealing, on the 24th of Jan., 150 plates, value 4l.; 150 plates of tinned iron, 4l.; 5lbs., weight of rivets, 5s.; and 4oz. weight of solder, 2d.; the goods of Alfred Fowler, and another, his masters: and WILLIAM FAY , for feloniously receiving the same; well knowing them to have been stolen; against the Statute, &c.

MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BRANNAN (police-sergeant G 20.) I live in Radnor-street, St. Luke's. In consequence of information, at three o'clock on Saturday morning, the 28th of Jan., I went to Mr. Johns' house, No. 44, Radnor-street—I saw Mr. Johns there—I went with him to a back shed in the yard, and found there a wooden box with a tin box in it, with forty or fifty tin plates underneath the tin box—it was very heavy, but I did not open it then—I learned from

Johns who lodged there, but at that time he did not know his name—I left them there, and communicated with Mr. Swift, jun., and between four and five in the afternoon he accompanied me to this same place—we went into the same shed—we found the wooden box containing the tin box, and the tin plates—Mr. Swift, jun., examined the plates, and pointed out the marks to me—he identified them—I placed them in the same situation, and again left them—on Tuesday evening, the 31st of Jan., for some reason of my own, I went again, Wardrop was then in custody on another charge—I then examined it with Mr. Swift—I found the wooden box containing the tin box that had been full was then empty, and no tin plates, but there were a few tin rivets and some solder, 2l. 5s. in half-crowns, and 1s. 3 1/2 d. in copper, which I had seen previous to that, in the box—there were no half-crowns before—this is the tin box—on the 31st, Wardrop was taken into custody with twenty tin plates round his person, slung by a handkerchief attached to a loop—they were curved as they are now—in this state they travel more readily round the body—he said he lodged in Radnor-street, St. Luke's—I showed him the boxes, and asked whose they were—he said, "They are mine"—I then pointed to the tin box, and asked whose that was—he said, "Mine"—it was opened, and I said, "The tin plates are gone"—he paused for a moment, and said, "Yes"—I then said, "What is this?" pointing to a little parcel which I found wrapped up as it is now—he said, "Money"—I asked how much—he said 2l. 5s.—I again said, "The tin plates are removed"—he said, "Yes, but I did not remove them"—the tin plates I saw on the 28th were much larger than those I produce—I took him away, and as I was going, I said, "That money was not there a day or two ago"—he said, "No, I put it there last night"—I took him to the station—he wished to see Mr. Swift the elder, who was in company with me—he begged he would not transport him, and he would tell him where the tin plates had been removed to—Mr. Swift said, on no consideration would he hold him out any promise in the present state of the case—Wardrop then said they were taken to a place in Brick-lane, Spitalfields; that the did not know the party, or the number, but if he was allowed he would point us out the house—in consequence of that offer, I and Mr. Swift went—Wardrop said he stood on the opposite side, and saw the person go in with the tin plates, and come out without them—he said they were removed by him and another party from No. 44, Radnor-street—I went with him and the two Mr. Swifts to Brick-lane; a house belonging to two men named Jarman was pointed out to me—I afterwards took them, because I found six large tin plates identified by Mr. Swift in their possession—I believe I had seen those same tin plates in the box a day or two previous—Jarmans occupied the whole of the house, and are tin plate workers—on Wardrop's crossing Shoreditch, he called Mr. Swift again, and begged to say he would tell him all, if he would not transport him—before I found the plates in Jarman's house, I put some questions to Jarmau as to their having any plates there—he denied having any, or having purchased any lately—there were a number of plates there—I said I wanted the tin that was brought in last night—I took the plates and produced them before the Magistrate—I had some considerable conversation with Jarman—I was ordered by the Magistrate to give the plates up—I gave them up on the last examination—they are not here to-day—on the 1st of Feb., between one and two o'clock in the morning, I went with Mr. Swift, his son, and another constable, to a private house in Shepherdess-walk, City-road—I knocked at the door, which Fay opened—he was pointed out to me by Mr. Swift, jun.—I said, "I belong to the police, you must consider yourself in custody for some plates

from Messrs. Fowler and Swift's"—I said he had removed some tin plates from No. 44, Radnor-street, St. Luke's, to Brick-lane, last night—he said he knew nothing about it, that he was neither at Radnor-street, nor Brick-lane last night.

Cross-examined by MR. WILD. Q. He offered no objection? A. No.

GEORGE WILLIAM JOHNS . I am a housekeeper in Radnor-street, St. Luke's. Wardrop and his sister were lodgers of mine—on Saturday, the 28th of Jan., I had a communication with Brannan, and assisted in making an examination of the shed—on the 31st, Brannan brought Wardrop in custody, and showed him these boxes.

GEORGE EDWARDS . I am Mr. Johns' apprentice, and live with him in Radnor-street. I know Wardrop—he lived there, and I know Fay by sight—I have seen him several times at my master's house—he came for Wardrop—the last time I saw him was Monday evening, the 30th of Jan.—I saw both prisoners together in the water-closet, by the side of the shed, about half-past eight that evening—I saw them go into the yard with a lighted candle—they staid in the yard ten minutes—they went into the water-closet—Wardrop came out, and brought the light with him from the water-closet, and went into the shed—when he got into the shed, he uncovered the wooden box, took out the tin box, unlocked it, took out the tin plates that were in that box, and then took out the tin plates that were in the wooden box that the tin box stood upon—after locking the tin box, he placed it back again, and covered it up as it was before, with the lid of the wooden box and a carpet—he brought the tin plates across the yard to Fay, who was waiting in the water-closet to receive them—when he took them to the water-closet, I heard Wardrop say, "Don't make such a noise, Bill, counting them"—I heard them rattle as though they were counting them; shortly after Fay came out of the water-closet with the tin plates—Wardrop went up stairs with the light, and Fay went along the passage into the street, down Radnor-street, towards Bath-street, in a direction that would lead to Brick-lane—Wardrop came down stairs again, and followed after Fay—they joined company, and went away in the direction leading to Brick-lane.

Cross-examined. Q. You say they joined company—did you keep them in your eye? A. Yes—I was standing on the pavement—the first time I saw Fay was about a month before the 30th of Jan.—I do not think I had ever seen him previous to that month—I have seen him two or three times when he came to Mr. Johns to see Wardrop—I did not open the door to him—I have been in the passage and at the shop-door when he has come to ask for Wardrop—I do not remember hearing him ask for Wardrop until the 30th of Jan.—I was in the shop that evening at the time I first heard Fay come to the door—I could not see the yard or water-closet from the shop—I went to the back parlour, and will swear I could see into the water-closet—the door is nearly opposite to the parlour window—at one time the door of the water-closet was open, at another time partly open, at another time quite shut—I could not see the whole of the interior of the water-closet—it was quite a dark night—the door was open when the prisoners went in—I saw no one else there—I had helped to clean the parlour windows a month before—the direction leading to Brick-lane is a general thoroughfare to the eastern part of London—Fay had a black hat on, and a short fustian jacket of a lightish colour, his trowsers were of a darker colour—the parlour window is three yards and a half from the water-closet.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Had you been made acquainted with what was suspected beforehand? A. I had—I do not know the number of plates Fay

was carrying down the street—they were very heavy, I saw, by the way he carried them.

ROBERT FOWLER SWIFT . I am the son of Richard Swift—he is in partnership in the tin plate business with Alfred Fowler, in St. John-street—Mr. Johns gave us information, in consequence of which I went with Brannan, on the 28th of Jan., to 44, Radnor-street—I found in the shed in the yard a wooden box, the tin box, and the plates underneath—the plates belonged to my father and Mr. Fowler—I identified them, and pointed out some marks on them to the officer, and told him they had passed through a roller; the effect of that would be to curve them, and they would be convenient to make articles, and to fit the body, if any one took them away—they appeared to have been straightened before they were put there—I can state, on my oath, that they were the property of my father and Mr. Fowler—there was 1s. 3 1/2 d. in money in the tin box—I opened it, though it was locked—the platet in that box were my father's and his partner's—I saw it again on the 31st—there were then 2l. 5s. in half-crowns in it, and a piece of solder—I went with the officer to a house in Brick-lane, Spitalfields, kept by Jarman and Son, who are tin-plate workers (we supply tin-plate workers largely) I went into Jarmans', followed by an officer—some questions were put to them about the tins, and they denied having purchased any—some plates were found, and my father pointed out six plates on their bench in the workshop as his—I am sure they were my father's and his partner's; and they were the same I had seen before in the box—I should say that on the 28th there were one hundred and fifty plates belonging to my father.

Cross-examined. Q. What is the firm? A. Fowler and Swift—we do an extensive business—I will not undertake to say what quantity of plates we have sold out—I am sure these were not sold—we sell them in boxes—I know that these tins had not come from boxes which were sold, because these had been passed through rollers—we never sold any tins like these—ours is not the only factory that make these kind of plates, or that use the rollers—there would be no distinction between our tins and the tins of other factors that use the rollers—they would not have been passed through the rollers in this state for any legitimate purpose—we never use the roller unless they are in a partly manufactured state; and these plates were in the original state in which they came from the manufactory.

COURT. Q. How came these to have the shape of the roller? A. I believe for the purpose of being put round the body—I believe the operation of going through the rollers had been done at our house—Wardrop had access to the plates, and was in the habit of sorting them out—he had been engaged by us about two months—the plates I saw were worth about sixpence each—I have no means of knowing them except from their being curved.

JOSEPH SHACKLE (police-inspector G.) On Tuesday evening, the 27th of Jan., I received information from Johns, and gave Brannan directions to go to the house and examine some boxes—on the 31st I saw Wardrop brought to the station in custody—I sent Brannan to Jarmans, and he brought some tin plates—Wardrop begged of me to intercede for him, and hoped Mr. Swift would not transport him—he said the plates that were taken to Jarman's were his master's property—he said that in the hearing of the whole of the prisoners—the two Jarmans were then there—Fay did not say anything.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you certain as to the presence of Fay? A. Yes, on account of the number of prisoners then at the station Fay was sent to Clerkenwell station; and it was after he was brought back, and the other prisoners out, that this conversation took place, but it had also taken place previous to that, over and over again—he begged the prosecutor would not

prosecute him—that if he would not transport him he would tell him the truth.

ROBERT FOWLER SWIFT re-examined. I knew Fay at this time—he had left in June—he had been in our service during part of the time Wardrop was there—he had been there to ask for work since Wardrop has been in our employ—we employ a great number of men—I have heard that Fay is related to Jarman.

Wardrop's Defence. I am very sorry for what I had done, and throw myself on the mercy of the Court.

MR. WILDE called

MARY ANN ALLISTON . I live in Gress-street, Rathbone-place, Oxford-street. On Monday, the 30th of Jan., Fay came to my house with a young man, twenty minutes past seven in the evening, and remained there till eleven o'clock.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Are you married? A. Yes—my husband is servant to Mr. Pritchard, who keeps a livery stable in Percy-street—he lives with me at home—he was not at home on this Monday—he went out of town on Monday morning as a valet with Captain Hazlewood, who was going to be married—he was to return to his service again—I do not keep this house in Gress-street, only the parlours—I have no servants or children—I let Fay in myself, and Bailey the witness, who is outside, was with him—it was about twenty or twenty-five minutes past seven o'clock—I cannot remember what sort of a night it was, it if so long ago—I do not remember their being wet—I cannot recollect whether they were wet or dry—they came both together—they came on a visit—they were going to the theatre with me and my husband, but my husband going out on Monday morning, they stopped and spent the evening with me—Fay is a tin plate worker—I never saw Wardrop, Fay had been out of business about three months, he kept a shop—I believe he is a relation of the Jarmans—I do not know anything about them—I have been there, but not for the last few years—I remember their being in custody, and Mr. Heritage applying for the six plates—I was at Worship-street—I believe Jarmans to be Fay's aunt and uncle, I do not know—I am Fay's sister—my brother and Bailey were not doing anything particular at my house—they smoked in my room all the time—I was doing needle-work—Bailey went out for a little while for some half-and-half—Bailey does not live in the house—he is no relation of mine—I have known him some years—he is a printer—I met him as I was coming to the Court to-day—I saw him last Sunday morning at Mr. Thomas's, at Shepherdess-walk—Mr. Thomas is a gentleman my brother had the shop of, and lodged with some time—I went there to see Thomas—I did not go for anything particular—it was about eleven o'clock—I live about three miles from Thomas—I met Bailey by accident in James-street, Susannah-row—I did not expect to see him—we talked about various things—I said I should be at Fay's trial, and I thought it a very great shame that he should be taken up and be innocent—he said it was a very bad job—he said nothing else, and we went to Mr. Thomas—he stayed there with me, and came with me to the top of Shepherdess-walk, and there I got into an omnibus—I have told all that passed between me and Bailey on that occasion—I had seen him, after I was at Worship-street, before Sunday morning—there were four examinations on this—I was not there at the first examination—I did not know of it till the evening—I was at all the others and so was Bailey—he did not go with me, I met him there by accident—the Jarmans were there, but not with me—I have not been friendly with them for some years—Mrs. Jarman is my aunt, but I have nothing to do with her—I saw Mr. Heritage this morning

and the night before last—I went to Heritage's house in the City-road, on Sunday morning, about ten o'clock, with Bailey—I forgot that before—I was there a very few minutes—it was eleven when I got to Thomas's—I went to see Mr. Heritage about this business—I talked it over—I do not know how long I staid, it might have been a quarter of an hour—I expected to meet Bailey there—he bad appointed to meet me there—I cannot say what day he made the appointment—I do not know whether it was the day before—my brother had been committed three weeks.

Q. Did you not tell the Jury just now that except having seen Bailey at the house of Thomas, and then at the Magistrate's, you had not seen him? A. I had forgotten it—I had made the appointment to meet him there, but I met him on the way—I had made the appointment on Thursday or Friday evening—my husband was not at home—I lived as barmaid at the King William the Fourth public-house in Shepherdess-walk—that is two years ago—my brother afterwards kept a shop opposite the King William the Fourth—he ceased to keep it about three months ago—he kept it four or five months—Wardrop did not live there with him—I did not know him till I went to Clerkenwell prison to see my brother, and he pointed out Wardrop to me—he was in the same ward with him.

MR. WILD. Q. You made an appointment to go and see Mr. Heritage on Sunday? A. Yes—Bailey could not go out on week-days—he is a printer, and at the latter end of the month he is busy—that was the reason for appointing Sunday morning—Mr. Heritage lives in the City-road, not a great way from Shepherdess-walk—I was present when Wardrop and Fay were before the Magistrate—I was there with Mr. Heritage—I went as a witness—I told this to Mr. Heritage, and he said I had better reserve it till the trial—I went to give the testimony I have to-day.

COURT. Q. When was it you were before the Magistrate, and saw Wardrop? A. On the second hearing, which is three weeks ago—it was on the Thursday before I went up before the Magistrate that Wardrop was pointed out to me in Clerkenwell prison.

RICHARD BAILEY . I am a printer, in the employ of Messrs. Haddon and Co., of Castle-street. I was so on the 30th of Jan.—I know Fay—he has a sister, Mrs. Mary Ann Alliston—I went with Fay to his sister's, on the 30th of Jan.—he came down to me at half-past six o'clock, and I suppose it was twenty minutes past seven when we got to Mrs. Alliston's—we remained there till eleven.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. I suppose you have a watch? A. No—I took notice of the watch at Mrs. Alliston's, which hung over the mantel-piece—I made an observation on it—I said, "Wardrop, the omnibus did not stop long in coming," and he looked at the watch, and said, "It is twenty minutes after seven"—I said, "I see the time"—I found Mrs. Alliston at home when I got there—it was rather a damp evening under foot—it did not rain—I was invited to go there by Mr. and Mrs. Alliston on the Sunday week before—I had been there five or six times before—I had been there about seven o'clock in the evening and staid till eleven before, but not more than once—I never took particular notice of the time before—I had been an acquaintance of Fay's about four years—I knew him when he kept a tin-shop—I have seen Wardrop there—it was after Mrs. Alliston had left the William the Fourth—I had seen her at Fay's shop once or twice—I had not seen them together—we havebeen there to have a glass of something to drink—I do not suppose I was in Wardrop's company above once or twice, and that was at the shop—I never saw Mrs. Alliston and him at the shop—I do not know the Jarmans—I did not

know that they were Fay's aunt and uncle—I do not know any of his relations—when we were at Mrs. Alliston's we were talking about things—when I said it was just twenty minutes past seven o'clock, she asked what time I left, and I said at half-past six—she said, "You have not been long coming"—they were then talking about family affairs—I did not join much in the conversation—she asked how I was off for work, and all that.

Q. Did she give you any supper? A. Yes, some bread and cheese and celery—we supped about nine o'clock—we had some half-and-half and smoked a pipe before supper—Mrs. Alliston set out the supper—we did not expect supper—she bad nothing for supper; but she said she would get some cheese out of the cupboard, and we ate it—I had fetched the half-and-half, and I fetched some more after supper—I saw nobody but Mrs. Alliston and my companion Fay—I had expected to see Mr. Alliston, but when we got there Mrs. Alliston said he was out with his master, somewhere in Essex—I did not hear the master's name—it was the master he was employed by—I had seen Mrs. Alliston at her house on the Sunday week before—I went merely to see her—I generally accompanied Fay there.

Q. You went to the Magistrate's, did not you? A. No, I did not go to the Magistrate's on this charge—I did not go any where—I did not go before Mr. Broughton while Fay was in charge—I was up there, but they said it was no use—it was the attorney that was employed for Fay—I do not know whether ther same gentleman was employed for Jarman—the reason I know he was the attorney was, Mrs. Alliston and I were together—the first time I saw the attorney was on the last Saturday, up at Worship-street—that was the first time I had been to the Justice—Mrs. Alliston then spoke to the attorney, and he said it was no use coming up now he was committed to Newgate, and it would be best to come up here—I came here to-day because I was asked by Mrs. Alliston.

Q. Where did you see her? A. On Sunday morning she came down to my residence, at No. 2, Norfolk-place, Curtain-road, at past ten o'clock, and I went with her as far as Shepherdess-walk—I saw Mr. Thomas there—we went to see if he could do any good, if he would come up to speak for his character—Mr. Thomas keeps a green-grocer's shop—we staid about half an hour—I then walked with her to the City-road, and she took the omnibus.

COURT. Did you see the attorney that day? A. Yes; we called at his house that Sunday morning a little after eleven o'clock—we called at the attorney's first, and then went right on to Thomas's—when I said Mrs. Alliston called on me, and we went to Thomas's, I had forgotten that we called on the attorney first—he lives about five minutes' walk from Mr. Thomas's—we staid at the attorney's about five minutes, and then went on to Mr. Thomas's—Mrs. Alliston's room is a middling size, nor very large nor very small—the Watch hangs over her mantel-piece—it is a small silver watch—I suppose they call it a lady's watch—no one called while we were there—Fay did not go out to fetch anything to eat or to drink—the celery was backwards in the yard, I think—Mrs. Alliston went backwards to get it—the bread and cheese was in the cupboard—she said her husband was gone with his master—she did not say anything about a funeral or a wedding.


FAY— GUILTY Aged 23.

Transported for seven years.

Sixth Jury, before Edward Bullock, Esq.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-935
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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935. JOHN COATSWITH was indicted for stealing, on the 20th of Jan., 1 aeolina, value 1l. 10s.; 1 harmonicon, 10s.; and 1 mouth-piece for a flute, 10s.; the goods of William Whetstone.

ANGELO BARNEDETTO VENTURA . I am a musician. About two or three o'clock, about the 20th of January, the prisoner brought this aeolina and these other instruments, and wanted to sell them to me for half-a-crown—I said I would give him 2s.—he said yes, for he was going to Scotland, and wanted to sell them—I bought them—he said he had something else to sell—I told him to bring it—I then saw Mr. Wheatstone, and from what he said I procured a constable when the prisoner came again—I told him the things he had sold me were stolen, and he must give an account of them.

WILLIAM WHEATSTONE . I live in Ton bridge-street, Burton-crescent; I keep a room at the Adelaide-gallery for the sale of musical instruments, which I keep in a large glass case. On the 20th of January I found the lock had been broken open, and the screws drawn—I missed an eight-keyed flute—I afterwards met Mr. Venturo—he showed me the instruments produced—they are mine, and had been taken out of my glass case, but, being small articles, I had not missed them.

WILLIAM POCOCK (police-constable F 81.) I went to the prisoner's lodgings, in Legg-alley, Long-acre, and found this other aeolina and a mouthpiece for a flute—the prisoner said he had bought them and the other things all together in Long-acre.

Prisoner's Defence. I was returning home at night, and a man asked me to buy these things; I bought them of him for 2s.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-936
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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936. JOHN SMITH was indicted for stealing, on the 23rd of Feb., 1 watch, value 18l.; I guard, 1l.; and 1 watch-chain and key, 1l.; the goods of Thomas Hall Lowe, from his person.

THOMAS HALL LOWE . I live at Birmingham, but was at the Spread Eagle, in Gracechurch-street. On Thursday evening, the 23rd of Feb., I saw the prisoner in Farringdon-street—he made some observation about the cattle—I went with him to Cyrus Davis's public-house—I called for a pot of porter, I drank some of it, and fell asleep—I suppose I had been asleep about a quarter of an hour, when the policeman awoke me and asked if I had lost my watch—I put my band to my pocket, and my watch was gone—I know I had it safe before I went to sleep—I felt it when I put my hand into my waistcoat-pocket, to pay for the porter—there was a guard-chain and a gold chain to it—this is my watch and chain.

Prisoner. You told me you had been to see a fight, and then asked me to drink out of a bottle you had in your side-pocket; you had four glasses of brandy-and-milk, and about a quartern of raw brandy. Witness. I do not recollect what you drank; what I drank was principally rum-and-milk—I do not recollect having any old ale—you did not awake me—I was never awoke but by the policeman—if you said you had my watch, I did not hear you.

WILLIAM PARSONS . I am a carpenter. I was in the public-house—I saw the prisoner take the watch from the prosecutor's pocket while he was asleep—he took it openly—I said, "Deliver that watch back; I will have no such doings in my presence"—the prisoner, with a good deal of reluctance, went to the prosecutor, and tried to awake him, and said, "I have got your watch"—the prosecutor was neither asleep nor awake, and he said, "All right"—the prisoner then put it into his own pocket, and sat there, I should say, twenty minutes, and was full of conversation and life—he then walked out, and forgot to come back.

Prisoner. Q. Why not send for a policeman? why did you let it go so far? A. You came in together, and I did not know but you might know one another; if you meant to be honest, why did you not leave it at the bar?

Prisoner. I never gave a thought of that.

JAMES DEAR . I am a carman. I was at the public-house—I saw the prisoner take the watch from the prosecutor's right-hand waistcoat pocket—I said, "Don't do that; let his watch alone"—he said, "It is all right; I know him, he is a friend of mine"—he then sat down by the side of the prosecutor for a time, and then he shook him, to try to wake him—he appeared to be drowsy, neither asleep nor awake—the prisoner said, "Look what I have got; I have got your property"—the prosecutor said, "All right"—the prisoner then put the watch in his trowsers' pocket—he then walked out, stopped out a while, then came in and sat down by the prosecutor; then went out with the intention to get a pipe of tobacco—he walked off, and I never saw him any more.

EDWARD HARVEY (City police-constable, No. 274.) I went after the prisoner and took him in Long-lane—I took him to the station, and was going to search him—he put his hand into his trowsers' pocket and pulled out this watch—he said this was the watch, and he was going to bring it back to the gentleman.

Prisoner. Q. Was I not making my way to go back to this house? A. No, you were going into the Red Cow public-house, and had got one step in at the door.

Prisoner's Defence. I am sorry it happened as it did; I never offered it for sale; I hope you will take it into consideration that I am not so bad as you imagine; it was through drinking; I have lived in Cloth-fair fourteen or fifteen years; if I had not had so much to drink I should have remained in the place, but having a pint of old ale, and a pot of beer, and brandy and milk, I came out and turned quite drunk.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 40.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Twelve Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-937
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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937. RICHARD PEARCE was indicted for stealing, on the 14th of Feb., 1 brass plate, value 1l. 15s., the goods of Donald Coghill.

DONALD COGHILL . I am a baker, and live in Maiden-lane, Covent-garden. This brass window plate is mine—it was along the front of my window—I saw it safe about seven o'clock in the evening on the 14th of Feb., and in about ten minutes my boy said it was gone—I then missed it.

Cross-examined by MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. What is this? A. A brass plate—it is brass outside and the inside of it is wood—I call it a window cill.

OLD ENGLAND GOODSON . I am a watchman of Covent-garden market. On the 14th of Feb. I saw the prisoner in the market about a quarter past seven at night—I saw him afterwards go to a corner of the market and come out with this plate—I should call it a brass window-plate—he put it on his shoulder with the brass downwards—he went across the market, and into the road—I followed, and asked him where he got it—he said he had picked it up—I said I must take him into custody—he was then very violent, got from me twice, and struck me in the mouth.

Cross-examined. Q. You saw him coolly walking about? A. Yes; he had nothing in his hand when I first saw him.

GEORGE HEARN . I am in the service of Mr. Coghill. On the 14th of Feb. I was coming home about ten minutes or a quarter past seven—I was turning into Maiden-lane, and saw a man coming from the shop with the brass plate under his arm—when I got within ten yards of the shop I saw the plate was missing—I ran back and saw the person with it again—I called, "Stop thief"—he ran through Taviatock-court, and I lost sight of him.

Cross-examined. Q. This thing has been in the habit of falling off, has it not? A. No, it cannot fall off unless it is taken—it is fastened on—I will not say that the prisoner was the man I saw.

GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Two Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-938
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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938. ROBERT PARSONS was indicted for stealing, on the 30th of Jan., 1 pane of glass, value 3s.; the goods of Mark Polack.

CAROLINE WARINO . I am in the service of Mark Polack, of Brydges-street, Covent-garden. On the 30th of Jan. I saw the prisoner in the shop—we had a broken window, and the prisoner applied to my mistress to mend it—she asked him how much it would be, and he said 3s. 3d.—it was agreed he should do so, and he went away—came back with Mr. Jackson and the glass—my mistress paid Mr. Jackson, and he left the glass with the prisoner, to mend the window—I then left the shop—I returned in ten minutes, and the prisoner and the glass were gone—I did not see him again till the policeman brought him the next day—I am sure he is the same person.

WILLIAM JACKSON . I live in Duke-street, Lincoln's Inn-fields, and am a glazier—the prisoner came to purchase a pane of glass at my shop, to put in a window in Brydges-street—I went with him there, and took the glass to Mr. Polack's shop—the lady paid me, and I left the glass with the prisoner.

WILLIAM POCOCK (police-constable F 81.) I received information on the 31st of Jan., and took the prisoner in Drury-lane—I asked if his name was Robert Parsons, he said it was—I spoke to him about the glass, he said it could not be him, he never was in the shop, nor asked for work there—Waring recognised him.

Prisoner's Defence. The square of glass was too large; I went out to get it cut, and not having any money, I could not have it done; I did not like to go back.


NEW COURT.—Thursday, March 2nd, 1843.

Sixth Jury, before Mr. Common Sergeant.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-939
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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939. JOHN DRUMMOND was indicted for stealing, on the 17th of Feb., 2 saws, value 18s.; 1 bevil, 2s.; 1 spokeshave, 1s. 6d.; and 1 pair of compasses, 1s.; the goods of Charles Henry Lacey: and 1 plane, 1s., the goods of William Henry Stevens: and 2 saws, 7s.; and 1 pair of dividers, 1s.; the goods of Henry Palmer; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 48.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-940
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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940. JOHN ROBERTS was indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 1 stove, value 4s. 6d., the goods of James Bacon; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-941
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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941. EDWARD CURTIS was indicted for stealing, on the 18th of Feb., 2 coverlids, value 7s. 6d., the goods of William Gilbert; to which he pleaded

GUILTY . Aged 15.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-942
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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942. GEORGE MESSENGER and JOHN REYNOLDS were indicted for stealing, on the 20th of Feb., 2 loaves of bread, value 7 1/2 d., the goods of John Edwards; to which

MESSENGER pleaded GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Three Months.

REYNOLDS pleaded GUILTY . Aged 15.— Confined One Month.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-943
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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943. JOHN JONES was indicted for feloniously receiving, on the 27th of Jan., 6 plane-irons, value 6s.; the goods of Mary Lazenby; well knowing the same to have been stolen; against the Statute, &c.

MARY LAZENBT . I am a widow, lodging in Newman-street, St. Luke's, my husband was a plane-maker. On the 27th of Jan. I lost sixteen plane-irons, which I kept in a box in the cellar—I did not miss them till I found them in the hands of an officer—they are mine.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. When had you seen them? A. Not for some time—some straw was taken off the box, and thrown about the cellar—they had been in the house many years—they are worth from 4d. to 6d. each.

JOHN TINGLE . I live in Mrs. Lazenby's house. At half-past six o'clock, in the evening of the 26th of January, I went into the cellar—I saw a good many plane-irons, and took sixteen—I wrapped them up in a cloth—I went to the prisoner and said, "If you please, sir, will you buy these?"—he said, "Tell your mother or father to come"—I said, "Would my big brother do?"—I then went and fetched a boy named Charles Walker—he said he would come as my brother, and then the prisoner asked if I could write—I said "No"—he asked Charles Walker whether he could write, and he said, "Yes," and Charley Walker wrote down where I lived, and my name—the prisoner gave me 4d. for the irons, and said he could not give any more—I said, "I suppose that must do"—we went away—my mother afterwards went with me to the shop, and said, "Please, Mr. Jones, has my boy been selling anything?"—he said, "No," at first—the irons were lying on the board—I said, "Yes, here they are, mother"—then he said, "Oh yes, he I did sell these here"—my mother said, "Pray how much did you give for I them?"—he said 4d.—she said, "Do you think I should send my little boy to sell these things for 4d.—he said he dare say she knew all about it, and if she gave up the 4d. she should have them again—he said, "We don't want any bother or piece of work about them"—my mother had not got the 4d. then—the policeman came and asked what was the matter—the prisoner said, "There is nothing the matter, it is all over and settled."

Cross-examined. Q. Who is Charles Walker? A. A boy I play with—I told the prisoner he was my brother—he would not take anything of me, because I was so small—he asked me what I wanted for them, and I said, 4d.—I did not say my father or mother found them some time ago when sweeping out the kitchen—I do not recollect saying so—he did not say "Go and fetch your father and mother; let them tell me that"—I said they were my father's, and he was a carpenter.

ROSE TINGLE . I received information from my boy relative to these irons—I went to the prisoner's and saw him standing in the shop—I asked if my little boy had been there, and what he had been selling—the prisoner said, yes, he had been selling something—I am sure he said he had—I asked what—he said plane-irons—I asked what he gave for them—he said 4d.—I asked whether he was not ashamed of himself buying these things—he said he thought I knew about it—he said to the boy before he left, "I will be d----d if I don't mark you."

HENRY COOK (police-constable G 210.) I took the prisoner, and have the property—to the best of my knowledge the value of these irons is six or seven shillings.

Cross-examined. Q. What would be the value as old iron? A. I cannot say—I have been with carpenters a good deal—I was a gardener by trade.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-944
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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944. GEORGE SAVILLE was indicted for stealing, on the 6th of Feb, 60 pence, the monies of George Spillman.

GEORGE SPILLMAN. I keep the Lyceum Tavern, in the Strand. The prisoner was in my service—on Monday, the 6th of Feb., I missed a 5s. packet of penny pieces—he had an opportunity of taking them—he was in the habit of going into the bar—they were on the mantel-piece—he came for some things on Wednesday—I told him I wanted to speak to him—the moment I turned my back to get an officer he ran away—I pursued him, and lost sight of him, but a gentleman stopped him, and before I got home he had taken him back to my house.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How did the gentleman know where to take him? A. He saw him run out—I had seen the pence the night before, but not that morning—there were eight packets on the mantel-piece—I missed one of them between eleven and twelve—there had only been my own servants in the place.

WILLIAM BUCKLAND . I came to the prosecutor's shop that morning about ten—I was waiting at the bar—I saw the prisoner come in with bottles and pots—he went into the bar, and the barmaid directed him to go up stairs and inform the prosecutor's son that I wanted to see him, and when he found an opportunity, I saw him take a package off the mantel-piece and put it into his pocket—he went into the tap-room, then went up stairs, and came down again.

Cross-examined. Q. What became of you? A. I went away—I first told this when I saw the prosecutor's son on the Wednesday evening—I am an appraiser, and live in Albany-road, Camberwell, with my father—I was about six feet from the prisoner, and he knew I was there.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 18.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Four Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-945
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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945. GEORGE THOMPSON and GEORGE DARRELL were indicted for stealing, on the 11th of Feb., 13 handkerchiefs, value 2l., the goods of Margaret Evans and another.—2nd COUNT, stating it to be thirteen yards of silk.

JANE GRIFFITHS . I am the wife of William Griffiths, and live in Cornhill. I am in partnership with Margaret Evans—about a quarter to two o'clock on Saturday, the 11th, of Feb. the two prisoners came to look at some shawls, and they talked to each other, saying they could get them cheaper at Silver's—there was a bundle of silk handkerchiefs in the window, about twelve pieces—Thompson took two pieces from the middle of them and buttoned them under his coat—I suspected they were thieves, and saw the ravelling of the handkerchiefs—I unbuttoned his coat, took the handkerchiefs, and threw them behind the counter—Darrell came up and knocked me down—I am certain Thompson is the man that took them, and he ran away—our porter followed Thompson, and my partner took hold of Darrell—when our porter caught Thompson in Finch-lane, he said he had only broken a window, but we had no window broken.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Where were you when they came in?

A. In the back room—my partner showed them the things—I came out thinking they were thieves—I heard them inquire for the shawls—I was at the door holding Thompson's arm when Darrell put his hand out and threw me down—I cannot say that he doubled his fist—he threw me down by force—a gentleman and Miss Evans came up and collared Darrell, and kept him in the shop—I threw the handkerchiefs behind the counter—these are them—I know they are the same—I put them in the window myself two

minutes before—I never lost sight of them—I put them away behind the counter for the policeman, and gave them to the policeman immediately after.

Cross-examined by MR. LUCAS. Q. You carry on this business? A. Yes—I am femme seule—my husband has nothing to do with the business—after the prisoners came into the shop I did not leave them to get change—my partner received a 50l. note from a gentleman—I will swear I did not leave the prisoners from the time I came into the shop—Miss Evans was with them for two or three minutes—I went to them because a gentleman came in that had some business with Miss Evans, and I said, "I will attend to these gentlemen"—I first saw Thompson with these handkerchiefs when they hesitated, and said they could get them cheaper at Silver's—that was about two or three minutes after I was with them—I was between the window and the counter—I did not go behind the counter.

RALPH STONE . I am the prosecutrix's porter. I ran after Thompson, and took him—he said he had only broken a window—there was no window broken.

JAMES COOPER (City police-constable, No. 627.) I took Thompson. MICHAEL HAYDN (City police-constable, No. 456.) I got the handkerchief from the lady.



Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-946
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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946. HENRY HART was indicted for stealing, on the 23rd of Feb., 3/4 of a yard of matting, value 1s.; and 4 pair of screens, 2l. 10s.; the goods of William Hunter and others.

MATTHEW CARTWRIGHT . I am a journeyman carpenter, and live in Coleman-street buildings. About a quarter past six o'clock, on the 23rd of Feb., I was in Cateaton-street—I saw the prisoner take this truss from behind Day's cart, and run away with it—I called out "Stop thief"—I had my tools on my back—I dropped them, and ran after him—he ran through Church-passage, and dropped the truss—he ran about fifty yards with it—I am sure he is the person—Day remained with the cart.

GEORGE DAY . I am a carman, in the employ of William Hunter and three others. I had three packages this evening—this was one of them—it contained chair-back screens, and this mat was sewn round them—I was in Cateaton-street, and saw the prisoner take it out of the tail of the cart—I am sure he is the person.

THOMAS GLOMER MILES . I am in the service of William Hunter and Sons. I got these four pairs of chair-back screens out, and ordered them to be packed—they are my master's.

Prisoner's Defence. I was taken out of a crowd of fifteen or sixteen persons; I was there five minutes; I was taken more on suspicion, answering the description of the person, than being the person.

GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-947
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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947. MICHAEL SULLIVAN was indicted for stealing, on the 4th of Feb., 14oz. weight of copper, value 8d., the goods of Joseph Miller and others, his masters.

WILLIAM WALTON . I am in the service of Joseph Miller and three others—the prisoner was in their service, and worked under me, at Poplar. At a quarter-past five o'clock in the evening of the 4th of Feb. I saw this piece of copper safe—I missed it—it is Mr. Miller's and others—there is the mark of a splash of lead on it, and I know it by the size of it.

Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. Have you not other pieces of the same shape, size, and weight? A. No—it is for casting plugs—I saw it last

on Saturday afternoon—the prisoner was assisting the man who used it—I did not leave this in his possession—it was lying on the pit—I left about fire men there—that was the last time I saw the copper—I had noticed this lead on it before I used it.

JOHN DAVIS (police-constable K 94.) I was on duty at half-past five o'clock this evening—I saw the prisoner coming up Robin Hood-lane—he looked hard at me, and passed me—I heard some one opposite give a sort of whistle—I turned round, and saw the prisoner turn from the door of a marine store shop, to which he had got—I followed, and asked what he had got; he said, nothing—I took him into the marine store shop, and was about to search him—he pulled this out of his right-hand trowsers pocket, and said, this is all I have got—he said he found it—I asked where he worked; he said at Mr. Pitching's—I went, and found it was not true—I afterwards found that he worked for the prosecutors.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Three Months.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-948
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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948. MARY ANN WILSON was indicted for stealing, on the 10th of Feb., 36 yards of printed cotton, value 14s. 3d.; the goods of Richard Cole Baker and another, and that she had been before convicted of felony.

JAMES FERGUSON . I am in the employ of Richard Cole Baker and another, in Leather-lane—about four o'clock on the 10th of Feb. I was behind the counter—I saw the prisoner inside the step of the door—she took this piece of print off the iron railing inside the door, put it under her shawl, and walked off with it—I went out and took her, three doors from the shop, with it hanging below her shawl—I brought her back—she pointed to two other women walking in another direction, and said they took it and gave it to her.

Prisoner. It was hung outside the door. Witness. It was not; it was the extreme piece, but not outside.

JAMES WARD (police-constable G 25.) I took the prisoner, and have the cotton; she said one of the other women took it and gave it her.

Prisoner's Defence. I was by the shop, and two girls took it off and gave it to me—I was going away—the gentleman took and brought me back to the shop—he said, "If you have got any money by you that you were going to purchase it with, I will let you go"—they wanted to search me, but I said no, I had no money.

JOHN LEWIS (City police-constable 581.) I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction, which I got from Mr. Clark's office—(read)—she is the person.

GUILTY . Aged 17.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-949
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Transportation

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949. WILLIAM JACKSON and JOHN RINGER were indicted for stealing, on the 1st of Feb., 1 pair of trowsers, value 9s., the goods of John Hoskins, and that Ringer had been before convicted of felony.

JOHN HOSKINS . I am a tailor, and live in Marylebone. On the 1st of Feb. I met Mr. Carter, who told me something—I went to my shop, and missed a pair of trowsers that I had hung on a bar, inside, half an hour before—I and Carter ran to the end of George-street, and saw the two prisoners passing Baker-street, about a quarter of a mile from my shop—we followed them pretty close—they turned down Adam-street, and about the middle of Adam-street they turned and saw us following them—Jackson turned round short, came back again, and ran into my arms—I stopped him—he said, what do you stop me for—Ringer ran away, and threw a bundle which he had over the area railings; it was picked up, and contained these

trowsers, which was the pair I had lost—Ringer was followed, and a gentleman stopped him at the corner of Manchester-square—I am quite sure that he is the person that threw away a bundle.

Ringer. Q. Did you see me chuck the trowsers over the railings? A. Yes—I was not round the next corner.

BENJAMIN CARTER . I live in Crawford-street—about twenty minutes past ten on the 1st of Feb. I saw Ringer leaning up against the railings of my father's shop—Jackson came up and spoke to him—he then went back towards the prosecutor's—he almost immediately came back and gave Ringer something, and they ran off together—I informed the prosecutor—I am sure they are the men—I followed them to Adam-street, and saw Ringer throw the trowsers over the railings.

Jackson's Defence. I was returning from my sister's, I got to Adam-street; the prosecutor stopped me, and accused me of stealing trowsers, which had not; I was not near the shop; I never saw Ringer before.

Ringer's Defence. I was turning down Adam-street to Manchester-square, and two gentlemen stopped me, because somebody cried "Stop thief."

WILLIAM CUMMING (police-sergeant D 3.) I produce a certificate of Ringer's former conviction, which I got from Mr. Clark's office—(read)—the prisoner is the person.

JACKSON— GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Four Months.

RINGER— GUILTY . Aged 18.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-950
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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950. JAMES STACEY was indicted for stealing, on the 24th of Feb., I handkerchief, value 1s., the property of a certain man, whose name is unknown known, from his person.

FREDERICK MILES (City police-sergeant G 14.) About half-past two o'clock on the 24th of Feb. I was in Newgate-street—I saw the prisoner put his hand into a gentleman's pocket, and take out a handkerchief—he then put it into his hat—I ran across the road and told the gentleman—I then collared the prisoner, and forced him into a shop—the gentleman came into the shop, but said he would not prosecute—I do not know who he was—I have made inquiries.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLAKTINE. Q. Have you no power of insisting on his going? A. No—he went out of the shop—I kept the handkerchief—I should know him again.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-951
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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951. JAMES FLOCKTON was indicted for stealing, on the 24th of Feb., 3 gowns, value 2l.; 5 shawls, 3l. 4s.; 1 shift, 2s.; 1 bed-gown, 3s. 6d.; 2 petticoats, 4s.; 1 tippet, 6d.; 1 apron, 1s.; 1 pair of earrings, 1l.; 15s.; 1 necklace, 7s.; 1 ring, 8s.; and 1 buckle, 2s.; the goods of Elizabeth Blunt: and 20 yards of linen cloth, value 2l.; 1 set of bed-furniture, 7s.; 3 shawls, 1l. 10s.; 2 veils, 7s.; 1 petticoat, 2s.; 1 shift, 2s.; 1 pair of shoes, 3s.; 6d.; 1 carpet-bag, 2s.; 6d.; and 3 gowns, 2l. 5s.; the goods of William Blunt.

ELIZA BLUNT . I live in Copthall-court—I had these things safe about half-past twelve o'clock on the 24th of Feb., in the third floor—the door of the room was locked—I missed the things—the street-door was always open—the bed-room door lock was picked—these are my things and my mother's—her husband's name is William Blunt.

STEPHEN QUESTED (City police-constable 171.) I was on duty, going up Angel-court, and saw two men standing there—when I got close to them, one put his hand into his pocket and gave the other 6d.—he went away—I watched them, and one was peeping round the corner—I stopped a few minutes, and then saw the prisoner and another person proceeding along Throgmorton-street

with a carpet bag, I then saw the other two that I had seen before—the prisoner and the other called a cab—I went and took them—this bundle I found on the prisoner—the one who had the carpet-bag got away—these are the things I found on the prisoner.

Prisoner. Q. Had you seen me with one of the others? A. I had before that day, but not then.

Prisoner's Defence. There are a parcel of men going about teazing boys to rob their masters, and then when they see the boys taken they are off-I was standing, and a young man came and asked me to carry a bundle to a cab—he took me into some passage—he went up stairs, and fetched two bundles down—gave me the biggest, and went on with the carpet-bag to a cab—he put his bag in, and then I put the bag in—the policeman came—he said he was going to Mr. Davis—he went to catch him, and he ran off—I told him the man hired me to take a bundle to the cab.

STEPHEN QUESTED (re-examined.) I had seen the prisoner and the others together, but not that day—the prisoner threw something over a hoarding, and it was this necklace—this buckle be threw behind me when I took him.

GUILTY . * Aged 18.— Transported for Seven Years.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-952
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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952. WILLIAM GUNN was indicted for stealing, on the 8th of Feb., 1 pair of boots, value 5s., the goods of Alfred Frisby.

JOHN RODMELL . I am servant to Mr. Alfred Frisby, a boot and shoe maker, in White Lion-street, Clerkenwell—between five and six o'clock on the 8th of Feb. I received information—I went outside, and overtook the prisoner, thirty or forty yards from the door—he just turned the corner—I found on him these boots, which are my master's.

Cross-examined by MR. FRAZER. Q. Where were they hanging up? A. Inside, on the door-post.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 22.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Seven Days.

27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-953
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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953. MARY GURD was indicted for stealing, on the 10th of Feb., 1 handkerchief, value 1s. 6d.; 4 half-crowns, and 4 shillings; the property of Dorothy Quick, from her person.

DOROTHY QUICK . I live in Plough-court, Fetter-lane. About one o'clock, on the 10th of Feb., the prisoner came to me, and I went out with her—I had four half-crowns, four shillings, and a handkerchief—she said she was badly off, and almost starved, and begged me to give her something to drink, which I did—when I came out she and I stood in the street together, and when I came home she followed me home, and asked for something to eat—I went up stairs, got her some tea and meat—she staid till four o'clock—I said I was going on an errand—I locked the door, and came down—she came down, and walked with me, and in going home she asked me to lend her some money—I said I could not, but I would give her some more to drink—I did so—after I parted with her, at the corner of the court, I went home, and went to sleep—at half-past eight o'clock next morning I had not a farthing to go to market with—I know I had the money when I went in-doors—I went and asked her for my money—she said she had not had it, or seen me since half-past eight.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Do you mean you had noticed your money when you went into your room? A. Yes—she wanted to borrow a sixpence of me at the corner of the court—I put my hand into my pocket, and had no sixpence—I then had my money safe—I could not have dropped it—I first mentioned at Guildhall that I had lost four half-crowns and four shillings—I told the policeman that I had lost 14s.—I did not recollect

what money I had till after I went home—I do not recollect when first mentioned that I had four half-crowns—I mentioned it at Guildhall, but not after I had heard what money was found—I neither heard from the officer nor saw that there were four half-crowns—I said I had lost 14s. at the station—I did not mention four half-crowns at the station—I was puzzled, as they were all in favour of the prisoner, because she lives opposite to them—she was let out of the station—they released her after I gave her in charge—I know I put four half-crowns and four shillings into this pocket, and about a shilling's worth of halfpence in another—I got rid of all the halfpence—I did not spend more than 1s. in drink.

MARY ANN WILMOTT . I am fourteen years old, and live in this court. I was going on an errand at five minutes past nine o'clock—I saw the prisoner go up, and go into Mrs. Quick's room, and when I came back I saw her coming down.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know the prisoner? A. Yes—I have seen her a great many times—when she came to Mrs. Quick's I could not see her face very well—she was dressed in a dark gown, I cannot say what—I saw her face when she came at four o'clock that afternoon, and I saw her face that night as she was coming in and going out.

THOMAS EAVES (City police-constable, No. 303.) I searched the prisoner's room, and found four half-crowns and four shillings in this bag—the handkerchief has not been found.

Cross-examined. Q. Is it true that, after she gave the prisoner in charge, you released her? A. Yes—the inspector was gone to the chief office, and if I had stopped there I should have left my duty—the sergeant told me to leave her in charge of the station clerk—I believe she went home—I did not hear the prosecutrix say anything about the half-crowns—she said she had lost 15s., and after the charge was given she altered it to 14s.

COURT. Q. What did she say she had lost? A. She said the had lost about 15s.—she was not able to say what coin it was in, but I believe she saw it on the table—when the clerk took the charge I did not hear her say anything about any half-crowns.


JOHN SMITH . I am foreman to Mr. Gurney, a wine and spirit-merchant, in Farringdon-street. On the 5th of Feb. the prisoner gave me a sovereign in this bag to change—she came tipsy in a cab—I gave her four half-crowns and eight shillings—I paid a cabman 2s. for her ride—she had come some distance—she sells fruit in the street—she will keep sober for a month, and then break out.


27th February 1843
Reference Numbert18430227-954
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Transportation

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954. JOHN VICKERS and WILLIAM SIMMONDS were indicted for stealing, on the 4th of Feb., 11lbs. weight of mutton, value 4s., the goods of Samuel Matthews; and that Simmonds had been before convicted of felony.

DAVID LESTER . I am in the employ of Samuel Matthews, a butcher, in Newgate-market. On Saturday night, the 4th of Feb., I saw the prisoners together—they went into the shop, and came out—I saw Vickers take from the board a pair of necks of mutton—I let them go about three yards from the shop—I went after Vickers, touched him on the shoulder, and asked what. he had got there—he said, "Nothing"—he let the necks of mutton fall down by his feet—Simmonds said he was going to take them to the next shop to get them weighed—neither of them had asked a word about the price.

Vickers. Q. How is your shop situated? A. It runs down on each side—the gates go across it—the mutton weighed 9lbs.

WILLIAM KEMP (City police-constable, No. 225.) I took the prisoners—Simmonds said he had been with Vickers all the evening, and that they went to buy something for dinner, and were going to take the meat to the next shop to weigh; and he said, "You are very well, but you have not got us right this time"—I said, "You must go to the station with me, and if you can clear your friend you will be set at liberty."

Simmonds. The master gave no charge of me; he did of Vickers, who is my brother-in-law; I went to the master, and said, "It was my fault; it laid at the corner of the board, and I said it belonged to the next shop;"there was no one in the prosecutor's shop; I went to the station, and stated the case, and said I was in my brother's company from half-past six o'clock till that time; the inspector said, "I shall take charge of you;" my brother had no more intention of stealing the meat than he has now; I was never given in charge; the policeman said to me, "It is no use going in, you can do the prisoner no good, he is sure to be locked up;" the meat was on the corner of the board joining the two shops.

DAVID LESTER re-examined. There were five persons inside my master's shop—I was outside, minding the meat—this meat was lying inside the shop—they could not have been mistaken as to which shop it belonged to—there are places between the two, about seven feet high—it was very good Scotch mutton—I value it at 3 1/2 d. per lb.

Vickers. The two pieces of mutton were lying on one side of the counter, and I said to my brother, "Will you have one of these?"—he said, "Yes"—I took them up, and I dare say I was not three yards off when the witness came and took me by the arm—I then went back to his master, who said, "Stand there, you d----d rascal; I will give you a night's lodging if I can give you nothing else"—I had 2s. 5 1/2 d. about me—I could buy it at 3d. a pound at any shop in the market—there was a witness to prove that I was in the act of turning into the shop, and I desired him to be called, but they would not let him—he gave me his word that he would be here, and speak.

DAVID LESTER re-examined. There was no witness at all.