Old Bailey Proceedings.
4th February 1856
Reference Number: t18560204

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
4th February 1856
Reference Numberf18560204

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A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters.


OLD COURT.—Monday, February 14th, 1856.


Before Mr. Recorder and the First Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-213
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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213. HENRY JAMES BECKLEY was indicted for unlawfully assaulting Charlotte Mallison, with intent, etc.

MR. PARRY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE the Defence.

NOT GUILTY . (See Third Session, pages 313 and 317.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-214
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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214. JAMES M'CARTHY , stealing a watch, value 10l.; the property of William Lloyd Jones, from his person.

WILLIAM LLOYD JONES . I am a surveyor, of No. 38, Fleet-street. On the evening of 30th Jan., about 6 o'clock, I was in Fleet-street—I stood for a few seconds at a window, looking at a placard—it was nearly opposite the police station, a little further up than St. Bride's Church—while I was there I felt something move at my left hand waistcoat pocket; there were several other persons apparently looking in at the window at the same time—immediately I felt the movement in my pocket I turned to my left, and the prisoner was right in front of me, and I saw his hand go from my waistcoat pocket, and the chain was hanging down—it was his left hand, it was clenched—he put it behind him—when I felt something pass from my pocket I immediately heard a click, as though a pair of pincers had clipped my chain through—I immediately seized him by the throat, a gentleman undertook to go for a policeman, and I shoved the prisoner into a passage close by until the policeman came—I charged him at once with stealing my watch—he said, "I have not got your watch, you may search me if you like"—the policeman came, and took him away—this is the chain I wore

on that occasion, it was not cut; the bore of the watch was twisted off—I have never got the watch again—this ring (produced) belongs to it—the policeman produced it to me next morning—I had felt my watch safe a few minutes before; I am quite sure that I felt it go at that moment.

ROBERT LILLEY (City policeman, 344). I took the prisoner into custody—there were a few people round the door, not a great many—I searched him, but found nothing on him but a knife—about ten minutes afterwards I went back to the place where I had taken him, searched the place, and picked up this ring in front of the shop, by the pavement—I asked the prisoner where he lived; he gave no address—he said he lived at a coffee shop in the Westminster-road, but he did not know the name of the party, nor the number—he offered to be searched.

(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read, as follows: "I was standing at the shop, and the gentleman looked round and said he had lost his watch, and he accused me of stealing it, I being the nearest to him, and I voluntarily went into the shop to be searched."

Prisoner's Defence. I was standing alongside the gentleman, and he turned round and said he had lost his watch; I said I had no watch, and had nothing to do with it; I voluntarily went into the shop to be searched; the gentleman said I had no chance to pass it to anybody.

WILLIAM LLOYD JONES re-examined. I did not observe the prisoner until I turned round—I did not see any person go away, I was too busily engaged—there was one or two persons behind him, but I did not observe who they were, nor what became of them—I am certain I distinctly felt the watch go out of my pocket, and I distinctly heard the click as I saw his two hands go from my waistcoat pocket—I saw both his hands quite close to my waistcoat pocket, his left hand was closed.

GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-215
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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215. WILLIAM BADGERY , stealing 15 lbs. weight of ham, value 13s., the goods of James Small.

SUSAN SMALL . I am the wife of James Small, a cheesemonger, of No. 94, Aldersgate-street. On Friday morning, 18th Jan., about half past 7 o'clock, I was in the parlour at the back of the shop, and saw the prisoner taking a ham from the window inside the shop—he went out of the shop and turned to the right—I ran out, called "Stop thief!" saw him chuck the ham down, and run off; a man picked it up, and gave it to me—I am sure the prisoner is the man.

GEORGE HAM (City policeman, 275). On 18th Jan., about half past 7 o'clock in the morning, in consequence of information, I went to No. 3, Little Arthur-street, Goswell-street, which is four or five minutes' walk from the prosecutor's shop, and found the prisoner in bed with two females, in the first floor front room—he lodged there—I found his boots by the bedside, put my hand into them, and found them warm, as if they had been lately taken off, and they were fresh dirtied.

Prisoner. There was no fresh dirt on the boots. Witness. I am sure it was fresh; it was a very wet morning, and the boots were very wet.

GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Twelve Months.

(The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted, but William Goman being called to prove the same, did not appear.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-216
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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216. CATHERINE SULLIVAN , stealing 1 purse, and 8 sovereigns, the property or Edward Hosking; from his person.

EDWARD HOSKING . I am a ship's joiner, and live at No. 5, St. John-street, West Ham. On Saturday, 12th Jan., about 7 o'clock in the evening, I was with two friends, at a public house, in Addle-hill, and saw the prisoner standing in front of the bar—she came in to sell some oranges, I bought some, and we went into the tap room—after some time she came in there, and wanted me to buy some more oranges, and I bought all she had, about two dozen or more—I afterwards came out into the passage, and had a dispute with the landlord—while I was talking to him, the prisoner came into the passage, put her hand into my left hand trowsers pocket, and took my purse, containing eight sovereigns, and which I had seen safe ten minutes or a quarter of an hour before—I caught hold of her hand before she took it out, and held it till I took her into the taproom; but she must have slipped the purse from one hand to the other—I did not see her do it—I told my friend, John Manning, to go for a policeman, but before he went I saw the prisoner drop the purse under the table from her lap, and three sovereigns came out of it—I picked one up, and Manning picked up the other two, and went for a policeman—my other friend was named Alfred—he left before this happened—while I was picking up the sovereigns the prisoner threw a glass at my head, and struck me with a pewter pot—a policeman came, and took her in charge—I had picked the purse up from under the table, it then contained five sovereigns, a policeman took it from me at the station—that was the first public house I had been to that day, and I had only had two or three glasses of ale.

Prisoner. You asked me to leave my basket behind the bar, and go with you, before the money was lost. Witness. Nothing of the sort—I asked you to drink in front of the bar—I left my friend talking to you outside the bar—I never put my hand near you till I took your hand from my pocket—I bought the oranges to get rid of you, because I did not want your company.

JOHN MANNING . I am a joiner, of No. 4, Plaistow-grove East, West Ham—I was with Hosking in front of the bar, and asked the prisoner how she sold her oranges—Hosking went into the taproom, and I stopped there till I had drank my glass of ale—I did not ask the prisoner to follow me into the taproom with her oranges—words arose between Hosking and the landlord in the passage when I was at the bar—I went out to them—I passed between them, told them I would have no disturbance, and tried to put an end to it—the prisoner was in the passage, and Hosking cried out that he was robbed—he had hold of her hand, and dragged her into the taproom—I followed them, and one sat down on one side of the table, and the other on the other; the prisoner dropped a purse, and three sovereigns dropped from it—Hosking did not continue to hold her when they sat on each side of the table—I told him that the prisoner had dropped the money, he picked up one sovereign, and I picked up two—while he was doing so the prisoner threw a tumbler, which struck him on the head, then hit him on the head with 4 pint pot, and then threw it at him—she had no appearance of being in liquor—Hosking was not in liquor, I think he had had about two glasses of ale—he had come from Doctors' Commons.

Prisoner. This gentleman wanted me to go with him, and he had a bit of paper and wrote down where I lived. Witness. I did not, nor did I take you into the tap room; I asked you to drink when you came in.

JOHN VALE (City policeman, 341). I was called to the public house, and the prisoner was given into my charge for robbing Hosking of his purse, and eight sovereigns—she said, "I have not got it"—she was sober—Hosking

and Manning might have been drinking a little, but were not intoxicated at all.

(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows: "I had been drinking with these two gentlemen, and had several glasses of shrub; I went into the tap room, and this gentleman (Manning) said to me, 'You had better come and have some rum; this gentleman (Hosking) said, 'I will buy the lot of your oranges if you will leave your basket, and go with these two gentlemen;' I said, 'No; I want to go home;' I did not have his money; that is all."

Prisoner's Defence. I went into the public house, the landlord knew me; these gentlemen forced me to drink with them; they forced me to have more, and I said that if I had anything more, I would have a glass of shrub; they gave me several glasses of shrub, and the last thing they gave me was something like ginger brandy; I said that I wanted to get home; the prosecutor asked me to go into the tap room with him, and said that he and his friend would buy the oranges between them; I said that it was too late, as I wanted to get home to my mother; I went into the tap room, and the prosecutor was challenging the landlord to fight; he pulled his purse out and dropped it on the ground; the landlord said, "Never mind, it will be found when they sweep up the place;" I went out, and he said that I had robbed him; he pulled me about in the tap room, and because I would not allow him to do it, I hit him with a glass, and a pint pot.

EDWARD HOSKING re-examined. I was struck on the head, and was bleeding very much—the prisoner sat on one side of the table, and I on the other—after she had her hand in my pocket, I put her to sit down till my friend got a policeman—I put her into a kind of box, a good distance from the door—she would have had to pass me to get to the door.

GUILTY. Aged 20.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. Confined Two Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-217
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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217. GEORGE SMITH , feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas M'Dowell, and stealing 3 coats, a pair of trowsers, a waistcoat, and 2 handkerchiefs, his property; and 90 yards of Coburg cloth; the goods of John Hunter.

MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.

ROBERT PARKHURST . I am a porter, and live at No. 22, Old Norfolk-street, Stepney; that is opposite Mr. Hunter's, No. 3. About a quarter past 5 o'clock on the evening of 13th Jan. I saw the prisoner go several times to Mr. Hunter's door, by himself, and then I saw a taller man than the prisoner, with light trowsers on, go to the door several times also by himself, and try the door, but not so many times as the prisoner—I watched them for about three quarters of an hour—I then saw a light flash from the front room up stairs—I put out my candle, and watched in the dark; a policeman came by—I stationed him at the door, and went for another constable, and when I returned the policeman had got the prisoner in custody.

WILLIAM BUTTERWICK (policeman, K 341). On the night in question my attention was called by Parkhurst to No. 3, Old Norfolk-street—I stood at the door—while I was there the prisoner came to the door, from inside the house; he opened the door from the inside—I laid hold of him, and searched him—I found on him some skeleton keys, which I produce—Parkhurst came with Lowe, another constable—while I was scuffling with the prisoner, he pulled off a coat which he was wearing—Lowe has it

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What became of the coat when the prisoner pulled it off? A. He threw it on the ground—a man who was standing by picked it up, he is not here—he gave it to me, and I gave it to Parkhurst to hold; I had enough to do to hold the prisoner—these keys were in his right hand coat pocket—Parkhurst afterwards returned the coat to me—I took it to the station, and left it in charge of the inspector with the other things, and I got them from him to bring here to-day—I had put a label on the bundle.

WILLIAM LOWE (pdieeman, H 152). I was called by Parkhurst to No. 3, Old Norfolk-street, on the evening in question—I searched the house, and found in the passage two coats, a pair of trowsers, and a waistcoat—they were close behind the front door, there was a candle standing in the passage, and this bundle of Coburg cloth was standing by it—I produce the things.

Cross-examined. Q. Was there anybody in the house? A. No—I was not on that beat—this was on a Sunday evening.

JOHN HUNTER . I am a linendraper, and lodge at No. 3, Old Norfolk-street, Stepney. This brown coat belongs to Mr. M'Dowell, he is the housekeeper—this piece of Coburg cloth is mine, it has my mark upon it—I left it on a shelf in the shop on the Sunday morning at half past 10 o'clock—when I went out, I left the house in charge of Mrs. M'Dowell—I returned about half past 9 o'clock at night, and then found my property in charge of the police.

Cross-examined. Q. Who went out first that morning, you, or Mr. M'Dowell? A. We both went out together to church—I came home first—I left Mrs. M'Dowell in the place, I did not find her when I came back.

THOMAS M'DOWELL . I am landlord of No. 3, Old Norfolk-street, Stepney, and reside there. On Sunday morning, 13th Jan., I went out with Hunter to church, about half past 10 o'clock, leaving the house in my wife's care—she is not here, she is very poorly—these three coats, pair of trowsers, waistcoat, and two silk handkerchiefs, are my property—this over coat I left hanging in the front room up stairs; the other things were taken out of a trunk in the bed room, it was not locked—I returned about half past 9 o'clock, and found the house in the possession of the police—there was no door or anything broken—my wife had the keys with her.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY of larceny. Aged 40.— Confined Fifteen Months.

NEW COURT.—Monday, February 4th, 1856.


Before Russell Gurney, Esq. and the Fifth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-218
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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218. THOMAS GOLDEN , obtaining 15s. of James Osborne, by false pretences: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 97.— Judgment Respited.

(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-219
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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219. MARGARET BAYMONT , stealing 1 coat, value 30s.; the goods of Philip Hembrow: to which she

PLEADED GUILTY .** Aged 33.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-220
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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220. EDWARD BURN , feloniously assaulting Thomas Cowio Mackie, with intent to rob him: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-221
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded part guilty
SentencesNo Punishment > sentence respited

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221. GEORGE BOOTH PATMAN , forging and uttering an order for payment of 30l. 18s.; also an order for payment of 113l. 10s.; he

PLEADED GUILTY to the uttering. Aged 22.— Judgment Respited.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-222
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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222. JOHN PAIN was indicted for embezzlement.

MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN JEBDIEN . I manage the business for my uncle, Mr. John Inglis Jerdien, and William Lee, coal merchants, at the Western Railway, at Kensington—they have an office at Shepherd's Bush—the prisoner has been in their employ as collector for some years—it was his duty to receive money on their part, and to pay it in on the same day, either to the clerk at the depot, for which he was travelling, or to the chief officer; and it was their duty to make a daily return of their receipts—he was taken into custody on the 5th of Jan.—I asked him if he had received 6l. 15s. on account of Mr. Cousins—he said he had not—I then produced to him the receipt, and he confessed it—I asked him if there were any more—he said, "There are some more, but for God's sake forgive me"—he said he had not used the money for his own purpose—I said, "Well, what have you done with it?"—he said Mr. Vaughan had done some business for him, and he had importuned him so much for the money that he was obliged to pay him our money.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. He had not used the money for his own benefit? A. No; he had paid it to Mr. Vaughan—I am not a partner with my uncle, I manage the business—I have managed it since the 1st July—I do not recollect on what day of the week the prisoner was given into custody—I had sent for him to call—I did not tell him I was going to arrest him—I merely wrote him a note, but there was no intimation about arresting him—he said, "For God's sake forgive me"—he might say, that if my uncle were there he was certain he should not have done it—I do not remember that he did—he did say, "You are not going to take such an unfair advantage of me?"—he used to pay the money in, either at the depot or at the chief office, except it had been a large cheque which he received in town—he might have paid that into our bankers—I think it was about 11 o'clock in the morning that he called on me—I did not know at that time that he had called at the office that very morning, and paid money in—I know he stated so the other day at the Magistrate's—I know it now—I had given directions to the clerk to receive no money from him—he had called to make an entry, but he had not the money on him to pay this amount—there were two cheques found on him, and about 3l. in money; there was a bill of exchange for 46l. odd, I believe—I had sent word that if he called not to take any money from him, as there was something I wished to investigate—my uncle was not present when he was apprehended—he has been in our service four or five years—we have very large dealings—he is not our only collector, we have four or five—our business is larger than it was six years ago—it was not the first thing I said when he came to the office, that I would give him into custody—the policeman was called in directly he confessed this, which was, perhaps, about ten minutes after he came into the office—he was taken to the station house, and the money found on him taken from him; he was then taken before the Magistrate—my uncle takes

a very active part in the business—he leaves a good deal to me in the routine of the office—since I came in the office he is not so much in the office as formerly.

MR. GIFFARD. Q. What were those cheques? A. One was for 13l., and one was for 8l.—I had told the clerk at the office not to receive money from him—that was in consequence of a letter I had received from Mr. Cousins, I think on 1st Jan.

EDWARD MORGAN . I am landlord of the Crown public house, at Wandsworth. On 29th Sept I paid the prisoner 4l. 8s. for coals—he gave me this receipt—"Received, 29th Sept, of Mr. Morgan for coals, as per account, for Lee and Jerdien. John Pain."

Cross-examined. Q. Had you made payments to the prisoner before? A. No—there was no balance due—I had had but one delivery before, and I paid the carman when he came—when I paid this 4l. 8s. to the prisoner, that was all that was due to the company—I do not recollect the prisoner saying he thought there was some balance due, and he could not pay that in till the balance was paid, but the day the second waggon of coals came the carman ran against the post, and broke it, and he said he was a poor man, and I said I would not be hard with him, I would pay 4s., and he should pay the rest, which was 5s. 2d. I think—I recollect the prisoner asked me two or three times for the bill of the builder, and I gave it him, and he lost it—I deducted this 5s. 2d. from the 4l. 8s.—I do not recollect the prisoner saying he could not pay it in till he got another bill—I recollect he asked once or twice for the bill, as he had lost the one that I gave him—on almost every occasion that I saw him afterwards he asked for the bill.

WALTER RICHARDS . I am a wine merchant, and live at Union-terrace, Notting-hitt. On 9th Oct I paid the prisoner 6l. 5s.—he gave me this receipt—"Oct. 9th. Received of Mr. Richards 6l. 5s. for coals. J. Pain."

Cross-examined. Q. Had you made him payments before? A. Yes, several—I should think I have known him ten years—he was a tenant of ours some time—I knew him as a respectable man—I should think I have made him those payments within three or four years—I became a customer of this coal company in consequence of his canvassing me—I ordered the coals of him, and in course I paid him when he brought the bill—I fancy I paid him this amount in the morning—it was paid by a cheque—I do not recollect what day of the week it was.

HUGH BAKER . I am a major in the army. I live at Lansdownhill—on 30th Nov. I paid the prisoner this bill—"Received 30th Nov., of Major Baker, 6l. 10s. for Lee and Jerdien. J. Pain."

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever paid him money before? A. No—I paid him by cash—I am positive it was on 30th Nov. I made an entry—it was about the middle of the day.

WILLIAM COOPER . I am in the service of the prosecutors, at the office at Shepherd's Bush. I produce the book of entries of money received there—it was the prisoner's duty to account to me or at the chief office at Kensington for all money received by him—I have no entry of the three sums that have been named—sometimes I make the entry, and sometimes the prisoner does—the entry is made by me or the prisoner for all sums of money paid by him—he has never accounted to me for those sums.

Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the office at Shepherd's Bush? A. Since 9th July—I was there before young Mr. Jerdien came—Mr.

May was clerk before—I am not aware that there has been any mistake on my part since I came in—I am not aware that there was a sum of money paid in by the prisoner that I forgot to enter—I do not recollect that there was a sum of 25l. paid by Mr. Beaumont, paid by the prisoner to me, that I forgot to enter—I was at the chief office one day, and a cheque came in from Mr. Beaumont, and I took it, and entered it at Shepherd's Bush the next morning—I never made a mistake about 25l. since July last—the prisoner was in the habit of coming to the office, and paying money once a day, sometimes the first thing in the morning, and sometimes over night—if he came in the morning to pay money, it was money he had received the day before—when he came late at night, it was money he received in the day—I was the only person that received money from him—it was uncertain how much I received from him; sometimes 200l.—the largest amount I ever received from him was 400l.—the amount would depend on what he collected—I recollect the day on which he was given into custody—he called at the office that morning, and he proceeded to make an entry as usual—I did not notice that he had made an entry till after he was gone—I found after he had left that he had made it—I told him it was no use making an entry then, because the return was closed; I could not take it then; he must pay it in on Monday morning, or give it to me—I think it was about half past 9 o'clock on Saturday morning that he called—I told him he must pay it in that evening, or on Monday morning—I did not know he was going to be apprehended—I have the book here—here is the entry he made that morning, "Hopwood, 43l. 16s. 6d." and, "Walton, 6l. 15s."—I think Walton is the address—it is in the address column—I think Walton is Mr. Cousins—I think that is where we sent the coals—this is the way in which he was in the habit of making entries on all occasions when he paid me—I am not aware that he was in the habit of letting two or three days run into one another, and paying altogether—I do not recollect that he has been one or two evenings absent, and then came and paid the money he ought to have paid in before—I know that he was ill for about a week, but he called every day during that week, as far as I can recollect—he was the only collector that called at my office—his collecting traversed over an extent of about six miles from the depot.

MR. GIFFARD. Q. Supposing he received 4l. 8s. on 29th Sept, when should it have been entered? A. On the night he received it—if he received 6l. 5s. on 9th Oct., it ought to be entered that day, or the morning following, and so with the 6l. 10s.—all the entries to 4th Jan. are entered in this book.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Let me see the last entries in the book? A. Here they are in Sept., Oct., and Nov., some in the prisoner's writing, and some in mine—here is no entry on 29th Sept—here is an entry on 28th—here is no entry on 9th Oct. in the prisoner's writing—here is on the day before of money received from him—I received altogether 22l. the day before—on the 30th Nov. I received 14l. 2s. 6d.

MR. GIFFARD. Q. Was that in one sum? A. No; four or five; Mr. Street, Mr. Norman, Mr. Denny, and Mr. Cox—I have looked through the book to see whether there is any entry of these three sums received from Mr. Baker, Mr. Morgan, and Mr. Richards, and there are no such entries—when he came, he gave an account of each sum, and the customer—between 29th Sept., and 5th Jan. he from time to time made various payments to me of money received from customers—he never mentioned to me about the money received from Mr. Morgan on 29th Sept.

COURT. Q. In this last entry on 5th Jan. I see he puts down, "Left money short"? A. Yes—he did not give any money in.

CHARLES STATHAM . I am cashier to Messrs. Lee and Jerdien's, at their chief office. The prisoner has never accounted to me, or paid me either of these sums paid by Mr. Baker, Mr. Richards, or Mr. Morgan.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you enter these things in a book? A. Yes—I have the book here—there is no entry of these sums—I have known the prisoner five or six years—he has been in the habit of travelling a great deal, and latterly he has been paid railway expenses—his circuit has not been very large, I should say about five or six miles—he has been in the habit of going to County Courts, and when he got the money he would be paid for it, but a great many there was great difficulty in getting the accounts from—I recollect a Mr. Blackburn—the prisoner said he would exert himself to find him—I do not know whether he did—I did not desire him to spare no pains to find him—I wrote him this note (looking at it) by desire of Mr. Jerdien—he did not find him; we have never caught him yet—I have desired the prisoner to meet me at County Courts, in order to prove debts, on several occasions.

DAVID LAWRENCE . I am clerk to Messrs. Lee and Jerdien, at their chief office. In Feb. last there was a conversation between Mr. Jerdien and the prisoner—it was to this effect, that he was to pay over the money in future directly he received it—I recollect his saying to Mr. Jerdien that he would not keep it an hour—the prisoner has never accounted to me for these three sums paid by Mr. Baker, Mr. Morgan, and Mr. Richards—he was paid 1l. a week, and so much commission on the coals he sold—he was paid 1l. a week by Mr. Cooper, and a commission of 4d. a ton—on the average that amounted to about 15l. a month, for the last twelve months, I should think.

Cross-examined. Q. The commission was paid by the firm, and the salary by Mr. Cooper? A. Yes—I believe there have been complaints once or twice that the coals have been delivered short of weight—I never recollect that sums were deducted from the account in consequence of the short weight—I never recollect the prisoner allowing anything in consequence of the short weight—we always took the quantity off, and sent them a corrected account when we have received intelligence that the first account was short—I do not recollect referring to the prisoner at all—I do not know that he had frequently to make allowance to the customers for short weight.

JAMES CLARK (policeman, T 183). I took the prisoner on 6th Jan., at the office at the West London Railway, at Kensington—he had on him a cheque for 13l., and one for 8l. odd, and 3l. 15s. 1d. in money, a receipt book, a pocket book, and various memorandums—he said to Mr. Jerdien, in my presence, "Do forgive me, Mr. Jerdien; forgive me; I will make the money up"—the cheques were on Mr. Jerdien's account.

Cross-examined. Q. Had he on him a promissory note? A. Yes, for 43l.—that was given to Mr. Jerdien by order of the Magistrate—this is the receipt book found on the prisoner—he said he was very ill—I did not hear him say to young Mr. Jerdien, "If your uncle were here he would not act in this way by me."

GUILTY. Aged 32.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character. Confined Twelve Months.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, February 5th, 1856.


Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-223
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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223. THOMAS STEVENSON , feloniously forging and uttering a bill of exchange, with intent to defraud.

MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY DUCKWORTH . I am a meat salesman in Newgate-market. I know the prisoner—I also know the brothers of the prisoner's wife, George and Henry Bond; they are highly respectable farmers in Leicestershire—the prisoner brought me this bill two months back yesterday, it was just in the state it now is—I paid him 33l. on it; 23l. on 8th Dec., and 10l. on 23rd—I have the cancelled cheques—(The bill was at two months, drawn by Thomas Stevenson, and accepted by George Bond and Henry Bond, payable at Messrs. Hill's and Sons, bankers, No. 17, West Smithfield.)

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. This acceptance is not the prisoner's handwriting, is it? A. I do not know—I received this from the prisoner—he gave it me in a letter; it was a sealed letter—I have got a portion of it, not the whole; it was a letter from his wife—I do not know her handwriting, she is a relation of mine—I believe it to be her handwriting, because it had got her name to it—the money for the bill was produced yesterday, at Messrs. Hill's, but the bill was not there to meet it—it was due yesterday—I am not prosecuting this case—I have no notion that there was any intention to defraud me, I have every reason to believe it would have been paid.

MR. METCALFE. Q. You say you believe this to be his wife's handwriting? A. The letter; I do not know anything about the acceptance—I merely know the letter to be his wife's, from its having her name to it—I have nothing else to go by—I do not know her handwriting—the prisoner said his wife had sent a letter, that was at the same time I received the letter and the bill from him—the letter was addressed to me—the prisoner said nothing about where the bill came from.

COURT. Q. When he brought it to you, did he say anything about it at all? A. Nothing more than there was a bill inside the letter—he did say that—I discounted this bill for him under the belief that it was sent by his wife—she is my cousin.

GEORGE BOND . I live at Bittesby, in Leicestershire, and am a fanner. The prisoner married my sister—this acceptance is not my handwriting—I did not give the prisoner or any other person any authority to write it.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know whose handwriting it is? A. I cannot positively say—I think it resembles my sister's handwriting—my sister has been in communication with me—I have frequently had letters from her, lately, about two months ago—I have not got them here—I am a farmer and grazier—I do not recollect that my sister ever asked my permission to sign my name.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Do vou ever make bills payable at Messrs. Hill's? A. No.

COURT. Q. Have you ever assisted your sister with money? A. Yes, more than once, both by cash and cheque, not very long ago—I cannot

exactly say how long since—the last time was a few months ago, perhaps not more than six, I believe within twelve months—I supplied her with money to the amount of several hundred pounds at different times—I am not aware that she carries on any business on her own account—I believe the prisoner has been keeping a shop at Chatham—my sister lives with him—I am not aware of any separate business that she carries on—when I have assisted her it has been in consequence of her having applied to me, both by letter and by word of mouth—she had not applied to me quite so lately as 1st Dec.—I have told her that I could not spare more money—that was some time ago, I cannot exactly say how long—I should say as much as a month before 1st Dec.—when I assisted her by cheque, I scarcely recollect how it was transmitted—I believe I gave her a cheque, I cannot recollect whether I gave it into her own hands; I believe I did some time ago—I never gave her an acceptance or a promissory note—I never was at Chatham.

HENRY BOND . I live at Misterton, in Leicestershire. This acceptance is not mine—I never authorised it—I am a farmer—I am not in partnership with my brother—I never make bills payable at Messrs. Hill's.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that your sister managed the shop at Chatham? A. I do not.

COURT. Q. Have you assisted your sister with money? A. Yes, in bank notes, not by acceptances, promissory notes, or cheques—I have been in correspondence with her; I have not corresponded with the prisoner—I cannot say whether this acceptance is my sister's writing—it looks like a female's writing—I think I know her handwriting; I should say it it her writing—it may be twelve months since I assisted her—I told her I could not very well spare any more money—she has applied to me since then, and I have declined to assist her—when I did assist her it was by way of loan.

HENRY DUCKWORTH re-examined. I opened this letter at the time the prisoner brought it to me—I did not show him the letter or the bill—he did not see it that day.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-224
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

224. THOMAS STEVENSON was again indicted for unlawfully obtaining 300 yards of silk, and 300 yards of holland, the goods of William Devass, and others, by false pretences.

MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY ETCHES . I am a picture frame maker, and gilder, of No. 2, Phoenix-street, Boho—I have known the prisoner about twelve months—he came to me early in September, and asked me if I could recommend him a place which it was likely that he could make answer for a draper's shop—I told him I thought Chatham, or the neighbourhood—he had not been doing anything for six months before that—but during the winter before that he was in the skin trade, at Bermondsey—I went down with him and his wife in the beginning of September, and we took a house and shop, at No. 13, Military-road, Chatham; but the shop was not opened till about a month after, because he could not get credit—he had only one reference, Mr. Duckworth, and he could not speak as to money, therefore it was dropped—about three weeks afterwards he came to me again, and said that he had obtained 50l. from his wife's relations, that he had drawn a bill on the brothers, that the wife had accepted it, and Mr. Duckworth was going to discount it for him—I said, "Be careful what you are about, because I knew a party who was hung for doing the same thing, Mr. Hunton, the

Quaker"—he said that his wife did not like Chatham, and asked me to go down to Brighton, and endeavour to get a business there—I said that 50l. was so trifling, it would not suit Brighton—we went down and did not succeed, we came back from Brighton to Chatham—that was in the beginning of Oct.—we then got the shop fitted up, opened it, and endeavoured to get credit at Grant and Sons, and several houses in the City, but could not succeed, as the reference was not satisfactory—I went with him to different places without success—I said, "There is no chance of your getting credit, only by buying to what ready money you have got; how much have you got?"—he said, "About 20l."—and he laid it all out, 5l. at one house, and 5l. at another, at Richards' Patent India-rubber Company, and at Christie's, and one or two more houses—the goods were taken to Chatham, and We opened a shop with them, we could not sell them, and took them to different market towns, Maidstone and Sheerness—we sold them in that way, but hardly sufficient to pay the expenses of the house, and several of them were pawned at Chatham—the prisoner and his wife lived by what we sold and pawned, and a very poor living it waa—I saw he had no chance of obtaining credit, only through Richards and Co.—I told him that was the only chance he had got, as he had repeatedly paid them one or two small sums—after the shop was opened we came to London several weeks to endeavour to get credit, but we only had one reference, Mr. Duckworth, and that was not satisfactory—on 20th Nov. I met the prisoner in Farringdon-street, and he told me he had been to Richards and Co. to endeavour to get them to give him a reference, and that they would not do so, unless he could satisfy them that he had, as he had been telling them, 400l. when he commenced business at Chatham six months previous; and that the only way he could satisfy them was to refer to his old father who had given him the money, and he said, "I have done so, and they are going to write down to night"—he said that he had given his father as a farmer at Ullesthorpe, and he must write down that night to the post master, and direct him to take the letter to his father, who is a butcher, as there was a farmer in Ullesthorpe, named Stevenson, and the letter would go there; and he wrote the letter in my presence, and said that he should go down to Ullesthorpe and endeavour to get his father to answer the letter, and if he did not do it he should then answer it himself—he wished me to return to Chatham that day, and I asked him for some money,—he gave me!1s. and said, "You can go back to Chatham"—I said, "I prefer waiting in London; I will wait till I hear from you"—and I waited for about a fortnight—he then came to me, and I told him I thought I had lost him, not hearing of him, and asked him how he got on—he said that the old man was ready to kick him out of doors for asking him to answer the letter from Richards and Co.—I said, "You did not do it yourself, then?"—he said, "Certainly not"—I asked him what he intended to do, and told him he was in a terrible scrape respecting a 50l. bill which was coming due on the 19th, which he had drawn on his brothers, and cautioned him that it must be met—he merely made a laugh of it, and said that it would be all right, and he was then going to Mr. Duckworth to endeavour to get another bill cashed for 35l.; and he told me the day after, that he could not succeed—that was on 5th Dec.—I asked him what he intended to do, he said that his wife had been persuading him to go down among her friends, and tell them what he had done respecting this 50l. bill—I asked him what he was going to do—he said that he was going down home, and he thought he should sell off all that was left, and take a situation as farm servant—I

said, "You never can put your family in such a situation as that?"—I left him shortly afterwards, and never saw him again till he was in custody—I mentioned these matters to Richards and Co., on 31st Dec.—I know the prisoner's writing; this letter is his to the best of my knowledge.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you mention these facts to the attorney for the prosecution about the 35l. bill? A. Yes—I did not know that such a bill was in circulation till I went to Mr. Duckworth, and asked him if he had cashed a bill of that kind, and then I mentioned it to the attorney for the prosecution—my motive for appearing here to-day is, for the furtherance of public justice, and the protection of my own character—I reminded the prisoner that a person had been hung for something of this kind, but I was not aware that such a bill was in circulation—he seemed to think the bill was all right; that even if the brothers knew it, they would think nothing of it—I did know that it was wrong, and I told him so—I did not at that time think that my character would suffer by associating with such a person; it has occurred to me lately—I tried to get a little money of him very often, but I could not—I, of course, would have taken what was due to me from such a man as that—I very seldom got any, I got a shilling or two—I did not tell him that I had done him all sorts of services, and, that if he did not give me some money, I would spoil him—it is not because I did not get the money that I am prosecuting him—I should not have done just the same if I had got ever so much money, but he acted very shamefully towards me—I know his wife; I have never had any conversation with her without his being present, except at Chatham this last time, when I went down on 1st Jan., when she was there, and he was away—I have often had conversation with her in his presence—I learned from her that she had relations down in the country—I carry on the picture framing and gilding at No. 2, Phœnix-street, Soho—I have no shop—I, of course, have something to gild with; I swear that—I am doing some work, I live by that—I should be found, if Mr. Etches is inquired for, in Phoenix-street—I am certain that that is my name—I never imagined my name to be Rounds; they may have called me so in the house—that is because I do not pay the rent where I am, and Rounds does pay it, because the place where I live belongs to him—I occupy one room, it is as near to the sky as possible—Rounds lives there, but not in the room with me; I do not know where he does live—he pays the rent of the room I live in, and I am ungrateful enough not to find out where he lives; I have no idea—he turns up once a week, and pays the rent—some people call me Rounds, and some Etches—you have got too much chaff for me; and, after all, what is it supposing I do go in die name of Rounds?—I know several gentlemen named Cook—I have not lived at a house in Curxon-street; I did not sleep there—I was there in the day, as butler to Mr. Cook; that is about eighteen months ago—of course there was a wine cellar there, and there was some wine in it—I had not the care of it, but sometimes I had the key—I was general servant, not exactly a butler—Mr. Cook was a gentleman in Curzon-street; I never knew him to do anything—he carried on no business—he sometimes advertised, but not for butlers—he had one, and that was sufficient—I cannot recollect what he advertised for—I am not certain that he advertised to obtain Government situations for respectable young gentlemen, who had a little money to deposit—I have taken advertisements to the papers—Cook and I did not dine together during the time I was in his service; we did before I went into his service, but not always; I had not always a dinner—Cook did not turn doctor to my knowledge after he left

Curzon-street; I do not know where he went to—he never kept an establishment for young ladies in a delicate situation, he acting as doctor; not during the time I was with him—I did not advertise for them, nor did he to my knowledge—no woman came to stay at the house to be confined while I was there, nor at any other house—I left him, and he left the house last Nov. twelve months, and he took a house in Bedford-street—I did not live with him there, nor in Featheretone-buildings, nor do I know what he was doing there—I kept a betting shop four years ago, when it was not prohibited—I kept an establishment in Foley-street at one time, I opened it as a milk, butter, and egg shop last Dec. twelve months, after I had given up the butleriug—I did not sell bacon; what I got I paid for: I got it to sell, but not there—I kept a bacon shop in Featherstone-buildings, not with Mr. Cook, he had nothing to do with it—he lived in the same house.

Q. You swore just now that you did not live in the same house in Featherstone-buildings? A. I did not live in the house—there was no name over the door—I got a good lot of geese, but I paid for them; they were not taken away by the police, they were all sold—the police never seized anything at my house—the owner of the geese did not come and get them back—I paid for them to the owners; there were several owners—I have not got my book here to give you the name of one of them—I have the receipts here (produced)—I paid every one—I recollect getting 200 geese from one man—I do not know now who that was, but could tell if I had my book here—I never lived at Watford, or stayed there—I have been a draper, that was about thirty years ago—I became bankrupt twentyfive years ago; I never applied for my certificate.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Do you find the receipts there for the geese? A. Yes—I have known the prisoner about twelve months, and have told him all that Mr. Ballantine has been asking me about.

WILLIAM ALLEN TURNER . I live at No. 125, Wood-street, Cheapside. I am manager of the South London India-rubber Company, which is also known under the name of Richards and Co.—I first saw the prisoner at the end of Sept or the beginning of Oct., when he purchased some goods for ready money, and after going on for some time we allowed him a small monthly account—we have trusted him 30l. or 40l.—when this had gone on for some time we received a reference from Spence, Bagallay, and Co., and one to Neville, Jordaine, and Co., but did not entertain it—those parties applied to us and also Morley Nephews, and Anstead, and Devass and Co.—those are all large wholesale warehousemen—in consequence of being referred to, I sent for the prisoner about 17th or 18th Nov., and told him that we had been referred to by Spence, Bagallay, and Co., and that he ought not to have done so without first consulting me, and that if he wished us to give Spence and Bagallay a reference he must inform me how long he had been in business at that house, and the amount of his capital—he said that he had been in business about six months, and had a capital of 400l. when he started—I said that it would be necessary for him to satisfy us by other means that he had that capital—he first referred to Mr. Duckworth, but I was not satisfied with that, and a day or two afterwards I required a further reference—he referred me to his father, who he said was a farmer at Ullesthorpe in Leicestershire—he gave me the address, and I wrote it down in his presence in the diary—I wrote to the address he gave, and received this letter (produced) on, I believe, the following day—I cannot find the envelope, but it had the Ullesthorpe post mark on it—it was addressed to our firm—(read: "Nov. 2nd, 1855. Sir,—In answer to your

letter, my son at Chatham had 400l. of his own money to commence business, and he will have a little more some time. Yours respectfully, James Stevenson ")—on that I communicated with the gentleman from Spence, Bagallay, and Co.—I have seen Etches at our warehouse—I think it must have been about the middle of Dec.—he made a communication to me about the prisoner at that time, and I, in consequence, took some steps, and went to the prisoner's shop at Shadwell, after which he came to our counting house—that was about the latter end of Dec.—I had a conversation with him, the purport of which was that we had been informed that the letter purporting to come from his father was not in his father's writing, and requested him to enable us to satisfy ourselves whether it was so or not—he said, "You have already written to my father, and here is the letter," taking the letter out of his pocket," and if you write again, my father will send your letter to me, and will not reply to you"—we had written again in order to test whether it was the father's writing—he also said that if I sent down any person from Messrs. Devass's house, he had left word with his father to set the dogs on us—I then pressed him, if he had any respect for his position as a tradesman, to enable us to satisfy ourselves that the letter was genuine—he treated it in an off-hand way, and left the warehouse.

Cross-examined. Q. Before he produced the letter, did not he charge you with writing to his father, and did not you deny it? A. Certainly not—I suggested to him to allow me to write to his father, and he said, taking a letter out of his pocket, "You have already done so, and here is the letter"—it was after that that he said that if we sent anybody down, they would put the dogs on them'—there was no request made to me to show that letter to anybody—he said that he had been in business about six months at Chatham—he has paid us altogether 60l., or it may be 70l.—he has paid the whole of his account—the largest amount he owed us at one time was 25l.—that was paid about the commencement of Dec., and I think after the reference had been given to his father.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Did the prisoner know with what view you were making the inquiries? A. Certainly, I explained it to him.

WILLIAM TEW . I am an innkeeper at Ullesthorpe. I know two persons named Stevenson there—one is a farmer, and the other a small butcher, who is I believe the prisoner's fether—he kills in what he calls the pantry, adjoining his house—he has no regular shop—the rent of the house is about 4l. or 5l. a year—it is a cottage, in the town—he works for no one but himself—he is about seventy years old, as near as I can say—I know the prisoner very well—I saw him in Ullesthorpe on 22nd Nov., and had a little conversation with him—I cannot say how soon afterwards he left, but he told me that he was going down to the station, to go by train, and I did not see him there afterwards—I had not seen him for perhaps two years, but I cannot say.

Cross-examined. Q. At what time did he live at Ullesthorpe? A. I cannot say—he lived there at the time he married, and married a girl living at Pitsby, which is near, and her family are respectable and well off people—I have known the father in that neighbourhood twenty years, and am led to understand that he has lived there fifty or sixty years—I do not know that his wife has an annuity.

COURT. Q. Have you done business with the prisoner's father, the butcher? A. Not lately—he can write; he makes out tickets—I have

seen his writing—this letter resembles his writing, but I would not swear to it; it is something like it, but he and his son write very much alike.

EDMUND FRANCIS CHOWN . I am in the employ of Spence, Bagallay, and Co., of Love-lane, warehousemen—the prisoner called there about 15th Nov., and selected a quantity of gloves and stockings, to the amount of about 13l., and he ultimately went to Mr. Glasson—I have since seen a portion of the goods at the Bow-lane station.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean that you parted with any goods to him? A. I sold them to him on account of my employers—we have not got them all back, the greater portion is gone.

MR. METCALFE. Q. How much have you got back? A. About 4l. worth out of the 13l—when I saw them at Bow-lane they had been taken possession of by the police—when I sold the goods he gave his reference, and they went to another part of the house to go out.

ROBERT GLASSON . I am warehouse walker to Spence, Bagallay, and Co. About 15th Nov. I received a reference from the prisoner, I took it down from his dictation—this is it, "Thomas Stevenson, 12, Military-road, Chatham, refers to Richards and Co., 13, Wood-street—Young."—Young means the carrier—he at first said "Luggage" which means luggage train, but knowing the carrier, I suggested Young as being the best conveyance—I went to No. 13, Wood-street, but could not find the name, and reported so to Messrs. Bagallay—I looked in the Directory, and afterwards went to Messrs. Richards and Co., No. 135, Wood-street, and saw Mr. Turner, who said that it was not a reference at all calculated for us, as their transactions had been for ready money, and very small—I reported that to Mr. John Bagallay, and had nothing more to do with it—it was a ready money transaction, and amounted to 57l. in all the departments.

JOHN BAGALLAY . I am one of the firm of Spence, Bagallay, and Co.—Robert Spence is one of them—Mr. Glasson reported that he could not find Messrs. Richards at No. 13, Wood-street, and I wrote to the prisoner and received from him this letter—(Read: "Nov. 6, 1855. Gentlemen,—Being from home yesterday, I should have answered your letter sooner; Messrs. Richards' address is 135, Wood-street, instead of 13; how the mistake arose I cannot say. Yours, &c., Thomas Stevenson")—upon that I sent Mr. Glasson to make inquiries at No. 135, and received a report from him, in consequence of which I wrote again to the prisoner, and received this answer—This was dated Nov. 20, and was from the prisoner to the witness, referring to Messrs. Richards and Co., who would be able to satisfy them of the prisoner's respectability in a day or two)—I did not apply again to Richards and Co.—Mr. Turner came to me on 23rd Nov., and showed me this letter, dated 22nd Nov., purporting to come from the prisoner's father, after seeing which, I gave instructions to Mr. Glasson to forward the goods to Chatham, and they were forwarded—seeing the letter induced me to do so.

Cross-examined. Q. You drew on him at three months, and the credit will expire in March? A. The beginning of April—I have heard that 7l. or 8l. worth of the goods are got back, but I do not know, as they are in the custody of the officers—I drew on him a bill at three months, which is not yet due.

FREDERICK KENNEDY . I was in the prisoner's employment up to the time of his being taken into custody—I was his assistant at the shop at Shadwell—it was opened on the Saturday after Christmas day—it continued

open exactly a fortnight—at the end of that time the police took possession of the goods—that was the reason of the shop being closed—in Dec. last, before the shop was opened, I went to Messrs. Devass and Co.—I was in the prisoner's employment at that time—he proposed when he engaged me to take another shop in London, which I was to manage—I was engaged in getting goods previous to the opening of the shop, and between 16th and 20th Dec. I went to Devaas's—he told me he wished me to buy some goods—I asked him where I should go—he said, "Go to the place where you can get them best"—I said as I was going to a strange house it would be necessary to have a reference, and he gave me his card with his address at Chatham, and a reference on the back of it to Mr. Richards, No. 125, Wood-street, which I handed to Devass's head clerk—I wrote the reference in pencil, from what he told me—I went to Devass's and looked out some flannels, hollands, and calicoes, to the amount of 59l., or 69l., I am not sure which—I left the reference with Mr. Perrin, the chief clerk—three or four days afterwards the prisoner told me that those goods were waiting at Chatham; three or four days after that, I saw the goods at the shop at Shadwell, where they were exposed for sale—there was no furniture in the house there, there was hardly any time to get any, nothing but the goods, merely conveniences—the prisoner took away some of the goods in a cab—I do not know whether that was in the first or second week—I do not know where they went to.

Cross-examined. Q. When that took place was the prisoner going to Chatham? A. He was—the goods he took in the cab were five half pieces of flannel, and three pieces of lining; that was all—they were worth between 5l. and 6l.—those were the only goods that were removed in the fortnight—whatever other articles went, were sold in the ordinary course of business to customers—I should say, at a rough guess, between 150l. or 200l. worth of goods were taken from the shop when the officers came in—I cannot say how much had been obtained—I had bought about 100l. worth—I understood that the officers also cleared the shop at Chatham, but I was not there—these flannels and linings were the sort of things that would be sold at Chatham—I never saw the prisoner's wife but once before the prisoner was taken into custody—she had nothing to do with the business that I was about to start at Shadwell—no directions were given to me to get rid of goods in any way, except in the ordinary course of business—I was engaged in London—I had been in the same sort of employment for twenty years before, with Messrs. Dent, Sewell and Cross, and others—I gave the prisoner my reference, he had the opportunity of ascertaining that I had been in respectable employment, and bore a good character—some few claims were made for payment while I was there, they were always met—from the short time we were open, I should say the business would have got on well.

MR. METCALFE. Q. You say that the flannels were such as would be sold at Chatham, were they such as would also be sold at Shadwell? A. Yes, but we had sufficient left there to go on with, we thought of supplying two shops—I believe the flannels were part of the goods that came from Chatham three or four days before—I do not know anything about the amount of goods which the prisoner bought.

WILLIAM PARREN . I am chief clerk to Mr. Devass. On 20th Dec. I received a card of Stevenson's, from Kennedy, with the address of Richards and Son, of Wood-street, on the back, as his referees; in consequence of which I sent Mr. Squibb, a clerk, to make inquiries, and after he had made a report I let the goods go, to the amount of about 59l., as near as I can

remember—it was entirely in consequence of the report Mr. Squibb made to me that I let them go—they were flannels, and things of that sort.

JOHN SQUIBB . I am a clerk to Messrs. Devass. In consequence of what Parren told me, I went to Mr. Turner, who showed me the letter, purporting to come from the prisoner's father—he told me that it came in answer to the inquiries in the letter which he had written to the prisoner's father—on seeing it I was perfectly satisfied—without that I should not have reported favourably to Mr. Parren.

WILLIAM ALEXANDER GADD . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Devass. In consequence of what Mr. Parren told me, I entered the goods—I have seen about three parts of them since in the possession of the police.

ALBERT UNDERWOOD . I am a salesman, in the employ of Neville, Jordaine, and Co., of No. 124, Wood-street. On 11th Dec. the prisoner called, and selected some goods, about 40l. worth—we then required a reference, and he referred to Richards and Co., next door but one to us—I handed that reference to Mr. Redgrave, to make inquiries—I have since seen about 5l. worth of the goods at the Bow-lane station.

JAMES HERBERT REDGRAVE . I received from Mr. Underwood the reference to Richards and Co.—I called on Mr. Turner, who had the letter in his hand, and told me the contents—this is what I put down at the time: "Dec. 12, 1855. Thomas Stevenson, refers to Richards and Co.; saw Mr. Turner, who says that he had ready money accounts with them for a short time; but, wishing to open an account, referred them to a respectable butcher, who states that he is a respectable man, and that the relations on the wife's side are very respectable. Mr. Stevenson also referred to his father, who said that he had 400l. when he commenced business at Chatham; consider that the reference is perfectly safe"—it was in consequence of the contents of that letter that I reported favourably.

FREDERICK KENNEDY re-examined. I gave to Messrs. Morley, Newell, and Co. the prisoner's card, with the address on it, exactly the same as Devass's—the prisoner did not direct me to go there, but he said, "That is my reference"—I have since seen some of the goods, to the amount of about 50l.

JAMES HENRY MORLEY . I am in the employ of Morley and Co. The goods sent amounted to 69l. 2s.—I have seen some of them at Bow-lane station, but can hardly say what proportion, as they have been cut up, but the principal part were there.

EDWARD ANSTEAD . I am a member of the firm of Morley, Neville, and Anstead. On 27th Dec. I received a card from Mr. Kennedy, referring to Richards and Co., and saw Mr. Richards—this is my reference book—(reading: "Refers to Richards, waterproof warehouse, 125, Wood-street, who says that he began, six months ago, with 400l. of his own, as confirmed by his father, a fanner, at Ullesthorpe, and Mr. Duckworth, of Newgatemarket, says that he married into a most respectable and wealthy family. Leafs have opened an account, and Spence and Co. have sold him 50l."—letters were produced—I saw them, and heard them read by Mr. two Richards—in consequence of that report, I was influenced to allow the goods to go, and in consequence of the report about the 400l. and which the letters confirmed.

JOSEPH COMBER KNIGHT (City policeman, 437). I do duty as a detective. In consequence of information, I went to the prisoner's shop, at High-street, Shadwell, and found a quantity of drapery and hosiery—the officer Evans

brought them away—there was no furniture of any kind there—I also saw the shop at Chatham, and part of the goods were taken possession of by me—I afterwards took the prisoner in Ratcliffe-highway, and found on him a memorandum book, and 2l. 17s., which was given up to him, by order of the Lord Mayor; and these thirty-three duplicates (produced), amounting to 28l. odd—here is one in Sept., 1855, for two brushes and an apron, for 1s. 6d.—several of them are pledged in his own name—the pledges in 1855 are small amounts, but the items in 1854 are larger; the largest is 3l. 10s.—I find none after Sept., 1855—I took the goods at Chatham, and have a list of them—they were all claimed by Messrs. Devass, and by Morley and Co.—when the charge was read over to the prisoner, he said that his young man bought the goods at Devass's; that part of them were at the shop, and part he had sold—some of the goods in the shop at Shad well were ticketed.

SAMUEL EVANS (City policeman, 459). I went down to Shadwell, and took possession of most all of the goods in the shop, which were identified—part were identified by Devass, part by Morley's, and by Spence and Bagallay, and Neville's, and Copestick's.

MR. METCALFE to W. A. TURNER. Q. Did you receive a letter from the prisoner? A. Yes—that was previous to my making inquiries—it is dated Oct. 23rd.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-225
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

225. GEORGE SAUNDERS and EDMUND EVERSON were indicted for a robbery upon Robert Walker, and stealing a watch, value 20l., his property.

MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.

ROBERT WALKER . I am a pianoforte maker, and live at No. 16, Stanhope-street, Hampstead-road. On 26th Dec., between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I was going home, along Little Charles-street—I had taken a little refreshment—I knew what I was about, I could walk very well—as I was going along, a party came behind me; I could not say who they were, there were six or seven of them; one jumped upon my back with his knees in my kidneys, and knocked my hat over my eyes—another seized me by the throat, and I felt fingers in my ears—I had a gold watch suspended by a gold chain—the chain was not round my neck, it was hung by my buttonhole; the watch was in my waistcoat pocket—it was secure before these persons came up; I had this Macintosh on, buttoned up, and a button was torn off to get at the watch—they took the watch out of my pocket, and in taking it I grasped the chain; it was cut, and what they cut it with ran into my hand—I have part of the chain here—this small link remained in my hand in the blood—I have the mark in my hand now—my watch was taken away, I have never seen it since—I had seen both the prisoners in the King's Arms public house when I was there—I had been in the King's Arms, in Edward-street, New-road, or Regent's-park—it runs out of Osnaburg-street—it is within 300 yards of where this happened—I did not see from what part the persons came—I cannot say that the prisoners are two of them—I gave information at the police station that same evening—I afterwards saw Saunders at the station, and identified him as one of the men I had seen in the King's Arms about ten minutes before I was robbed—I was there about an hour—I could not say that they were there all that time; I cannot say how long I saw them there.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. This was on boxing day, was it not? A. Yes—I was sober—I had had a glass to refresh me, but I was quite sober—I had been at the shop inspecting some work that had been done—I had had three glasses of sherry, nothing else; I had not had any dinner,

I had had some bread and cheese at 11 o'clock—I have never said I was not quite sober.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you see both the prisoners at the public house? A. Yes; about ten minutes before I was robbed—there was a disturbance there, and I left on account of it—I saw no persons in the street but those who attacked me—it only lasted for a minute or two—it was light—it had been raining.

CHARLOTTE COPPIN . I am the wife of John Robinson Coppin, of No. 9, Munster-square, Regent's-park. On 26th Dec. last, between 3 and 4 o'clock, I saw from six to seven persons round the prosecutor, in Little Charles-street—the prisoners are two of them—I saw Everson jump on Mr. Walker's back, and I saw Saunders come away from Mr. Walker with part of a guard chain hanging through his fingers—I saw it, it looked like a gold watch chain; it was in his left hand—I said to him, "You have got that man's watch"—I repeated it three times—he made no answer, but turned his head on one side, and went round the square—I saw some of them, I cannot say which, knock the prosecutor's hat over his eyes; I should say there were full eight of them surrounding him—I had seen Saunders before in the neighbourhood—I am sure the prisoners are two of the men.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. You did not see Saunders do anything to Mr. Walker? A. I saw him come from Mr. Walker; he was the first one that came from the crowd—it was a small piece of chain—the shop door is in Little Charles-street—my servant was at the door, close to me with my child; she had exactly the same opportunity of seeing that I had—the crowd were not between me and the prosecutor, they did not come up till he was quite out of sight—Mr. Walker was going home into Mary-street—he was about the length of this Court from me when one of the prisoners jumped on his back, which turned him round—I thought it was a lark till I saw one of them with the guard through his fingers; there was not much noise, but they went away laughing—Saunders did not run, it was a kind of a skip, into Osnaburg-street, and the others took another direction—the whole thing took full a minute, if not longer—they did not appear to have been drinking—I saw him next when he was taken up; the policeman made him stand up, and I knew him again.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Did the rest of the party go in a different direction to what Saunders did? A. Yes; the others turned into Laxton-place, which goes into Frederick-street; that is quite the reverse direction to what Mr. Walker went—when I first saw him they were all following him down Little Charles-street—he was not staggering at all—they let him get about half way down the street, and then sprang upon him—Everson was behind him; I could not say exactly what he did, my maid can tell you—I cannot say whether he jumped on him—several of the others went close to him, they were all surrounding him.

MR. PLATT. Q. Were you near enough to see whether Everson had got hold of Mr. Walker? A. Yes, I saw his hand on his shoulder.

MARY HAZLEOROVE . I am servant to Mrs. Coppin. On 26th Dec., between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I saw the prisoners in Little Charles-street—I saw from six to eight young men come in a direction from a public house in Frederick-street, but I did not see them come out—three of them went up to the prosecutor, Saunders put his left hand under Mr. Walker's arm, and took something from his pocket—he had not his back to me, he was sideways—they turned him round by leaping on his back—Saunders was the first that came away from the mob, and I saw

part of a guard through his fingers as he drew his hand back—Mr. Walker's hat was knocked over his eyes, but I could not tell who did it—I have seen Saunders before, but do not remember seeing Everson till the day of the robbery—I am quite sure that they are two of the men.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you speak to either of the prisoners? A. No, but Mrs. Coppin did—she went to the middle of the road, and said, "You have got the gentleman's watch"—I could see the public house, Mr. Curtiss's, the King's Arms, in Frederick-street, or as some call it, Little Brook-street—his stop door is at the corner of Charles-street—I could see one of the entrances of that public house from the door step—if Mr. Walker says that it is in Edward-street, he must be mistaken in the name of the street—I have never spoken to Saunders—I have seen him going along, I cannot say how lately, before the robbery—I have seen him pass the shop, but when I do not know.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. You say that the party came from the public house? A. They came from that direction—I did not speak to Mr. Walker at all—I believe he missed his watch at the time—there was no cry of "Stop thief!"—there was no one near, and there being a noise at the public house besides, attention was drawn that was—it was a fight I believe—Mr. Walker did not cry, "Stop thief!"—he stood as if he was stupified with the way in which the prisoners had served him.

THOMAS BURNS (policeman, 90 S). On the morning of 31st Dec. I met Saunders in Albany-street, and from a description I had received I took him into custody—I told him he was charged with being concerned with others in stealing from Mr. Walker a gold watch and chain, in Little Charles-street, on Wednesday afternoon last—he said, "I was not in Little Charles-street on that afternoon at all."

SAMUEL WINKLE (policeman, S 191). I took Everson last Friday, and told him he was charged with being concerned with others in stealing a gold watch from Mr. Walker—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I told him that it happened in Little Charles-street, Manchester-square, on boxing day, and he said, "I am right."

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. "I am right enough," was not it? A. No, I am sure of that—I have been examined before—I pay attention when things are read to me.

MR. PAYNE called

JOHN CLARK . I am a builder, of Victoria-terrace, Westbournegrort, Bays water. Saunders worked for me in 1850, and I knew his parents when he was a boy—he worked for me four years off and on, and three years the whole of the time—I have known him up to the present time, and always found him an honest, industrious lad.

Cross-examined by MR. PLATT. Q. How long have you lost sight of him? A. I have repeatedly met him, but have not seen him since some time last summer—I have not heard that he was discharged but a short time ago from the House of Correction—I have seen nothing of him for six months at the least.

MR. PAYNE. Q. You never heard anything against his character, or of his being in prison? A. I have not.

VALENTINE COOPER . I am a chair and cabinet maker, of No, 29, Henry-street, Hampstead-road. I have known Saunders eleven years, and never heard anything against him in my life.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you known him up to this time? A. Yes—I have seen him repeatedly in the last six months—I know of his being discharged from the House of Correction after being in confinement for an

offence, but I never heard anything dishonest of him—I understood that it was for a row or something of that kind.

COURT. Q. You said you knew nothing against him? A. Nothing dishonest—I have been told that it was for a row at the corner of Brook-street, Hampstead-road—that is about 100 yards from the spot where the prosecutor was robbed—I understood that he was sent to prison for six weeks—I did not appear to his character then.


ELIZABETH PHILLIPS . My husband is a tradesman, at No. 41, Middlesex-street, St Pancras—I have known Everson from a boy—he has borne a very good character—I never knew anything amiss of him in my life—he worked for his father, and, with the exception of an assault some time ago, there has never been any charge against him to my knowledge.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know what he has been doing for the last three months? A. He was working for his father before Christmas week, and I saw him then.

COURT. Q. Has he been in prison? A. No, only in the House of Detention, at Clerkenwell, for drunkenness and an assault, for which the Magistrate gave him three weeks imprisonment.

(MR. PLATT proposed to call evidence of the prisoners bad character. MR. PAYNE contended that this could not be done unless dishonesty could be proved, and MR. METCALFE referred to Regina v. Burt, Cox's Criminal Cases, upon which the COURT recommended Mr. Platt not to press the matter in the present case, as there was some uncertainty as to the practice.)



four Year's Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 5th, 1856.



Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Sixth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-226
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty

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226. JAMES KING and LOUISA KING , unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession.



Confined Eighteen Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-227
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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227. JOHN CHANDLER , unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-228
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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228. WILLIAM EATON was indicted for a like offence: to which he PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-229
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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229. JOHN CHARLES LEWIS was indicted for a like offence: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-230
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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230. CHARLES JONES was indicted for feloniously uttering counterfeit coin; having been before convicted: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined Eighteen Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-231
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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231. JESSE KING was indicted for a like offence: to which he PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Eighteen Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-232
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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232. MARY ANN FLEMING , unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin: to which she

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-233
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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233. THOMAS MORGAN , feloniously uttering counterfeit coin; having been before convicted.

MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BRANT (policeman, N 451). I produce a certificate of the prisoner's conviction—(Read: "Central Criminal Court, Sept., 1854, Thomas Morgan convicted, with two others, on his own confession, of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; confined twelve months")—I was present—the prisoner is the person.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Were you here on other business? A. No—I was the constable in the case.

EDMUND IRELAND . I keep a beer house in Marylebone-lane. On 1st Jan. I saw the prisoner there—I am sure he is the person—he came for a glass of 6d. ale, the price was 1 1/2 d., I served him, he gave me a half-crown—I put it into the centre drawer of my cash box, where I put my gold—there was no other half crown there—my wife gave it out again afterwards—it was kept there till I gave it to the constable on the 13th, when I gave the prisoner in charge—Mrs. Ireland took it out of the drawer on that occasion—I was in the room behind—myself and my wife only have the keys of that cash box—the box was in the room behind me—I saw the box when the half crown was taken out—I was in the bar—it was not more than a minute after I took the first half crown when I found it was bad—I found it before I put it in the box—on 13th Jan. the prisoner came again in the evening—he first called for a glass of 6d. ale, I served him—he then called for a pickwick, I served him—it came to 1d., which, with the ale, was 2 1/2 d., he gave me a half crown—I tried it because I knew the man again—I ascertained that it was bad, and I told him so—he said he did not know it was bad—I gave the two half crowns to the constable.

Cross-examined. Q. Did he not say he had never been in your shop before? A. Yes—I saw that the man who passed the half crown on the 13th was the same man who passed one on 1st Jan.—I am sure he was—I am not aware that I had seen him before he passed the first half crown—I keep a beer shop, at No. 49, Marylebone-lane—the prisoner passed the first half crown between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening—I sometimes do a large trade—there were three or four persons there when this man came in—my wife was then in the little room at the back—I do not know whether she could see and hear what was going on—she assists me in my business, I have no barmaid—there was no one behind the bar then but myself—my wife was present when I put the half crown into the cash box—she was not when I put it into the till—it is my practice to clear out the till at night—sometimes I do it in the day—I have no doubt I had on that New Year's Day—when I put that half crown into it there was only 1s. 6d. or 2s. 6d., I will not swear which—I might have cleared the till out between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I do not know what I had taken between that time and 7 or 8 o'clock in the evening—I told the constable that that was the man that came a fortnight before, and gave me a bad half crown, and now he had brought another.

COURT. Q. You put the first half crown in the till, where you keep your silver? A. Yes—there was either 1s. 6d., or 2s. 6d. there—I discovered that the half crown was bad just as he was going out of the door—I then looked at the half crown, and put it in the cash box.

SARAH IRELAND . I am the wife of the last witness. On 1st Jan. my

husband gave me a half crown—it was bad—I placed it in the centre of the cash box, where gold is kept—I locked it up, and on the 13th I got it out of the centre of the cash box—I placed it in the hand of Mr. Ireland—only I and my husband have charge of the cash box.

WILLIAM SHARP (policeman, D 169). I received these two half crowns from Mr. Ireland on 13th Jan.—I took the prisoner—he said he did not know the half crown was bad—I only found on him 1 1/2 d.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Royal Mint—these are both bad.

GUILTY . Aged 34.— Confined Eighteen Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-234
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

234. PATRICK COFFULL was indicted for unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

EDWARD BARNETT . I manage the Britannia public house, in Britannia street, St. Pancras. On 22nd Jan. the prisoner came; I served him with a pint or half a pint of porter—he gave me in payment a shilling—I gave him change, and put the shilling into the till—there were only two 4d. pieces and one 6d. in the till; no other shilling—when I gave him the change he went out—I opened the till within a minute afterwards, and observed the shilling was dark; I looked at it, and found it was bad—I marked it, and locked it up—on the following day, Wednesday, I was still at the Britannia—the policeman came; I showed him the shilling I had taken the day before—while I was doing that Mark Mahony came in—he wanted change for a shilling—he gave the shilling to me—I' said, "This is a bad one, where did you get it from?"—he told me something, and in consequence of what he said, the constable went outside with him—(the constable was in plain clothes) he returned, and brought the prisoner with him—I recognized him, and I said, "That is the man that passed the shilling last night"—he said he was not in the house—I gave the constable the two shillings.

Prisoner. I did not know the shilling was bad; I was never in the man's house before. Witness. I am quite sure he is the man.

MARK MAHONY . I am going on for eleven years old. On Wednesday, 23rd Jan., I was coming home from school, the prisoner stopped me in Britannia-street—he asked me to go across the road and get him change for a shilling—he pointed to the Britannia, I took the shilling, and gave it to Mr. Barnett—I told him who I got it from—the police constable went with me, I pointed the prisoner out to him—the prisoner was then at the other end of the street—I went to him; the prisoner asked me for the change—I told him it was a bad shilling—the constable took him—I had left the shilling with Mr. Barnett.

HENRY TYLER (police sergeant, G 42). I was at the Britannia on Wednesday, 23rd Jan.; Mr. Barnett showed me a shilling—while he was doing that the witness Mahony came in, he gave a shilling to Mr. Barnett—from what he said, I went out with him—he pointed out the prisoner to me, I took him into custody—I asked him where he got the shilling—he told me a man in a smock frock gave it him at King's Cross—Mr. Barnett gave me these two shillings.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These are both bad.

Prisoners Defence. I was never in the man's house before; I did not know the shilling was bad; it is my first offence.

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-235
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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235. JOHN PETTITT was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

DOROTHY FLEXTON . My husband keeps the Cock and Mortar public house, in Tothill-street. On Monday, 28th Jan., I was there about 5 minutes before 12 o'clock at night; the prisoner came in with another man, they called for half a quartern of rum—I served them—the other man gave me a shilling—I gave them 9 1/2 d. change, and put the shilling into the till—I had but one sixpence more in the till—the prisoner and the other man drank the rum—the other man said, "Now, you must stand something"—the prisoner called for a pot of ale—I said, "It is too late; I won't serve it, it is just upon 12 o'clock"—the prisoner said, "Then we will have another half quartern of rum, that we shan't be a minute about"—I served him, and he gave me a shilling out of his hand—I tried it, and found it bad—I took the rum back—I said, "You scoundrels, this is a bad one; I have a great mind to lock you both up"—the other man went away—the prisoner refused to go without his change—I went to the till, and found that shilling was bad—I said, "This is a bad one"—I went to the door and called a policeman—I gave him the, two shillings, and gave the prisoner in charge.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. When you told these men the money was bad, the other man made off as quick as he could? A. He staid for a minute or two, and then he went—the prisoner refused to go—he said before the Magistrate that he did not know it was bad—he was not tipsy that I noticed—the only reason I refused to serve him with the beer was because it was so late.

WILLIAM BIDDLE (policeman, B 158). I received these counterfeit shillings from the last witness—I took the prisoner; I asked him if he had got any more like these—he said he did not know, he had no more than what he worked honestly for—I searched, and found a bad shilling in his left hand waistcoat pocket, and one shilling, two sixpences, and another sixpence, and 2 1/4 d.

Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner the worse for liquor? A. No—I was not able to get the other man who was with him—he was gone before I got there.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These three shillings are all bad, and two of them are from one mould.

(The prisoner received a good character.)


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-236
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

236. HENRY ROWE was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

THOMAS HENRY CARMAN . I am barman at the King's Arms, in Exmouth-street. On Thursday, 3rd Jan., the prisoner came about 11 o'clock at night—I served him with half a pint of porter; he gave me a penny—he afterwards made company with a man and woman in front of the bar, and treated them with a quartern of gin—he threw down a shilling—I took it up, and found it was bad—I showed it to my manager, and said, "This is a nice one, is it not?"—he said, "Yes"—it was not out of my sight—I gave it back to the prisoner—he gave me a good shilling, and I gave him change—when he first came in, he appeared sober, but when I told him the shilling was bad, he appeared very drunk—this is the shilling I tried, and returned to the prisoner—I bent it—I am sure it is the same.

WILLIAM DAWSON . I am barman at the Union, in Bagnigge Wells-road. On Thursday, 3rd Jan., the prisoner came in, about half past 11 o'clock at night, with another man—the prisoner called for a pint of porter—I served it—the prisoner threw down a shilling—I bent it, and I asked him if he

was tipsy, or pretending to be so—he said, "I am neither"—I said, "This shilling is bad, and I believe you know it"—he said, "If you think so, lock me up"—there were three constables in the place, and I gave him into custody—the man who was with him said it was very strange, for he had just offered one in Brook-street—I gave the shilling to the constable.

RICHARD FOWELL (policeman, G 192). On 3rd Jan. I was in the Union public house; the prisoner came in—the last witness spoke to me, and gave me this shilling; it is bad—I asked the prisoner where he got it—he said, he had taken it in the course of the day—I asked if he had got any more—he said, "No"—a man who was there told me something, and I saw the prisoner put his hand behind his apron—I called my brother constable, and saw him wrench a shilling from the prisoner's hand.

JOHN BOOSTER (policeman, G 211). I was in the Union when the prisoner came in—the last witness directed my attention to what he had in bis hand—I seized it; he resisted—I got from him this shilling, the one that Carman saw.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These are both bad, and from the same mould.

Prisoner's Defence. I had been drinking during the day; I went to a public house, and had a pint of beer; I heard playing at skittles; I went out, and two men were playing; I played with one for a pint, and then one challenged me to play for 3s. against my 2s.; I threw 2s. on the ground, and the other man took them up, and gave them to me, and said, "Put them in your pocket," and I did so.

COURT to RICHARD FOWELL. Q. What did you find on the prisoner? A. 2 1/2 d., and a sixpence good—he appeared to have been drinking when we took him, but when we got him to the station he was so drunk that he fell down in the dock.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-237
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

237. GEORGE BURN, alias Tyas , stealing 1 watch case and 1 watch chain, 1 seal and 1 key, value 12s. 6d.; the property of William Lorimer: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Six Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-238
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty

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238. CHARLES GEORGE COOPER , embezzling 5l., 3l. 6s. 6d., and 1l. 9s.; also, 4l. 19s. 6d., 4l. 15s. 6d., and 3l. 14s. 1d.; the moneys of David Brain, and another, his masters: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-239
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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239. WILLIAM EDWARD SMITH , feloniously killing and slaying James Price.

MR. CAARTEN conducted the Prosecution.

HARRIET TRUBY . I am the wife of Thomas Truby, we keep a beer shop, the Brickmakers' Arms, at North Hyde, in the Precinct of Norwood. On Monday night, 21st Jan., the prisoner came in a little after 6 o'clock—he called for a pint of beer, I served him—he had another pint of beer, one before Price came, and one after he came—the prisoner was quite sober—Price came in; I knew him, he had been in my house twice before—he came in with two men, Tripp and Johnson—when Price came in the prisoner was sitting on the left hand side of the fire, in the taproom—Price was tipsy—he called for a pot of beer—I demurred about drawing it, but at last I did, and he paid me with a shilling—he drank some of it, and oflered the others some—I then went to the bar, and I afterwards returned to the taproom—Price was then sitting in the chair by the right hand side of the fire—he began to say to the prisoner, "You villain, you rascal; I have been to your mother's and asked for a pint of beer, and she had not got any"—the prisoner said, "I cannot help it, sir, I wish I could; I would fill my mother's cellar

full of beer if I could"—Price called him a b——, and said, "You have got a good mother"—the prisoner said, "I know I have, and well I love her"—Price kept calling him a b——; the prisoner said, "I don't want to have anything to say to you, you are quite a stranger;" and he turned away from him—Tripp was in the house—I left and went to the bar, and Tripp came out after me, and went round the corner—I left Price and the prisoner together—after that I and my daughter went to supper—my husband came to the bar to me, and asked for a pipe—while I was there, I heard a blow, and the taproom table moved against the settle—that was a little before 9 o'clock—on hearing that I went to the taproom door—my daughter was behind me—about that time Tripp returned while I was at the tap-room door, which was open; I saw Price sitting down on the floor in the taproom against the table with his nose bleeding—the prisoner was sitting in the same place in the taproom where he was before—Tripp went to Price and tried to lift him up; he could not, and my husband assisted him—Tripp asked for a cloth to wipe the blood from Price's nose—when he and my husband raised Price, I did not hear him speak, but I heard him make a snoring noise as though going to sleep—Tripp wiped his face, and I saw I a scar over bis left eye—there was a little blood on his face—he was placed in a corner, so that he should not fall either way—I remained with him—my husband said, "What shall we do with him?"—Tripp went home in about half an hour after this occurrence—Price moved about, and made a noise—I did not hear him speak—I said to my husband, "What shall we do with this man?"—my husband said he could do no more, shut him in the taproom, and let him be—I said, "When he has had a good sleep perhaps he may wake up and go home"—we were waiting about from ten minutes before 10 till 12 o'clock—he remained in that condition—the prisoner was in the taproom all this time—I was close to Price—I looked at him at 12 o'clock, and said to my husband, "What shall we do, wake this man up and let him go home?"—he went to him to wake him up, he could not perceive that he moved at all—the prisoner went up and shook him to wake him—he said, "I can't make any sense of him"—I went to him, and I said, "O dear, dear, dear! I think he is dead!"—the prisoner said, "I hope not; I hope not"—I ran up stairs and alarmed the house, I came down and sent for the doctor, or the policeman, or any one they could find—the doctor is Mr. Leese—my husband and the prisoner went for him, and a man named Jones, a lodger—Mr. Leese came as soon as he got dressed—I asked the prisoner how this happened, and he said the man hit him first, and he returned the blow—there is a table in the taproom, and an iron rim round it, which stands up higher than the wood, because the wood has been scrubbed away, and is lower than the iron rim—there was blood on the iron rim.

HENRY TRIPP . I live at North Hyde, and am a labourer. On Monday, 21st Jan., I, and Price, and Johnson, met at the Jolly Brickmakers, kept by a widow lady, named Slingsby—we went from there to the Brickmakers' Arms—I found the prisoner there, sitting on a chair by the fireside—Price did not appear to me to be tipsy—he walked very well to the house, which is about half a mile from the Jolly Brickmakers—he called for a pot of beer—he began to upbraid Smith for his bad conduct to his mother—I left and went to the sink, and when I came back Mrs. Truby was there, and Price was lying on the floor with his coat off, bleeding from the nose and face—I said, "What is the matter now? what are you up to now? I hope you have not hit this old gentleman; if I thought you had, I would hit you"—the

prisoner made no reply—I began to pick Price up, but he being a weighty man, I could not—I did with the assistance of Truby—while we were lifting him up, I heard Price say, "That scamp, that villain!"—I suppose Price was about sixty years of age—he was a much taller and stouter man than the prisoner—he had been in good health as far as I know—we placed him on the settle—I asked for a cloth to wipe his face—he seemed helpless, and slipped from the seat on the floor—I lowered him down gently—I left him lying on the floor—I went home—I suppose I left him between 9 and 10 o'clock—he had not recovered his senses any more than what he said when I first began to lift him up—he had told me previously that he was going to stop there the night—I left him breathing when I went away, leaving him in a sleeping position, as I thought he was.

Prisoner. Q. Did you hear him call me bad names? A. I heard him reproach you with bad conduct to your mother—I did not hear him call you a b——, to my recollection.

COURT. Q. Did he not call him bad names? A. He called him a scamp and a rascal—he was upbraiding him, I know.

LEWIS LEESE . I am a surgeon, and live at Norwood-green, about a mile from the Bookmakers' Arms. I was called up about 1 o'clock, on Tuesday morning, 22nd Jan., by the prisoner and Truby—I went to Truby's house as soon as I could dress—I was shown into the taproom—I saw the body of a man lying on the floor—he was quite dead—there was very little heat indeed about the stomach, and some part of his chest—there was blood about his face, and a good deal of congealed blood in his nostrils—there was a wound over the nose, and a clean incised wound on the inner angle of the eyebrow, quite down to the bone—it had ceased to bleed—there was merely some little clotted blood about it—it appeared as if it had been inflicted by something sharp—I went the next morning, and I noticed there was an iron rim round the table, which projected in some places, where the wood was worn away, about the sixteenth part of an inch—the wound could have been occasioned by a person falling against it; and there was a fender shown me in the room, which might have occasioned it—I made a post mortem examination of the body forty hours afterwards—I examined the head, chest, and abdomen—that incised wound going down to the bone did not go into the orbit—it did not seem of great importance—there was an extensive swelling behind the ear, which seemed to have been inflicted by something very hard—I think that could have been done by a blow from a fist—that had nothing to do with the cut on the nose—it was on the same side—the cartilage of the nose had been smashed—the integuments of the scalp were much filled with blood, and other parts as well—there was a sudden arrest of the circulation in the membranes of the brain—either a fall or a blow would occasion that—there was a good deal of serum in the ventricles of the brain—that might have arisen from the man having drunk a great deal—I think a blow would have assisted that—I examined the body—the lungs were perfectly healthy, and did not contain blood—the heart contained a good deal of blood on the right side—there had been a sudden arrest of the circulation—the stomach was healthy—the kidneys were congested, which might have been caused by drink—I should think a fall or a blow occasioned his death—he was in very good health, and had a great quantity of fkt—there were no internal causes which would have caused his death.

MARY FLEETWOOD . I am the wife of John Fleetwood, who keeps the Half-way beer house. I knew the deceased, James Price—he had been

living at my house about seven weeks—I remember his leaving the house on 21st Jan., a little after 2 o'clock—he was quite alone—at a little after 12 o'clock, that evening, I and my husband were in bed—I heard Smith come to the door, and heard some windows break—I looked out of the window, and saw Smith—I said, "Why did you break the window?"—he said, "I did not; tell John to get up; the man is dead"—my husband said, "What man?"—he said, "Price, the man that is living here"—he said, "I am accused with breaking the windows; b—the windows; the man is dead; if he is not dead, he b——soon will be"—my husband said, "Fetch a doctor."

Prisoner. I did not say "B——the windows;" her husband said, "If he is dead I can't bring him back again." Witness, I do not remember my husband saying that.

JOHN FLEETWOOD . I am the husband of the last witness. About 12 o'clock, on the night of 21st Jan., I heard a noise of breaking windows—I heard Smith come and knock at the door, and rattle the window shutters—my wife jumped up, and saw him out of the window—she said, "It is Bill Smith"—I said, "What did you break the window for?"—he said, "B——the b——window; that man, Price, is dead"—I went down, and found it was the next door window that was broken—I went and called Johnson, my wife's father—I then went on towards the house—I met Truby, and afterwards met Smith—I asked what was the matter—he said, "That man is dead"—I said, "What caused his death?"—he said, "I don't know, but he is as dead as ever I saw a b——man in my life"—I said, "Why have you not fetched a doctor?"—he called to Truby, and said, "Let us go and fetch the doctor"—I went to the house, and into the taproom—I saw Price lying on the floor—he was quite dead and cold—that was about 20 minutes past 1 o'clock—I know where Mr. Leese lives—my cottage is not in a direct road to Mr. Leese's house—there is a nearer way to go by the canal side.

SARAH MERRICK . I am the wife of William Merrick, who keeps the Wolfe public house, at Norwood-green. On 22nd Jan., about 1 o'clock, the prisoner came into our house by himself—he called for half a pint of beer, and while he was drinking it he said, "A b——fine job I have got into to-night"—my husband said, "What?" and he said, "I have killed that b——bum bailiff that is in Fleetwood's field"—Truby came in afterwards—he had a pipe of tobacco, and the prisoner asked him to have anything to drink—he said, "I have no money"—the prisoner said, "No more have I, this is the last 2d. I have"—Mr. Merrick asked Truby if that was the case, that the man was dead—he said he believed it was, the man's lips were changed, and he was quite cold—my husband asked the prisoner how it happened—he said Price said something he did not approve of, and he struck him—the prisoner said, "I will make the b——a box, if you will find boards"—Mr. Merrick said, "I have no boards that will do for that; I don't like to bury dead people."

Prisoner. It was Truby said he would make him a box, and he said to Merrick," Will you find boards?" and he said, "I have no boards for that purpose." Witness. No, it was you.

JOHN SCOTNEY (police inspector, T). On Tuesday morning, 22nd Jan., the prisoner was brought to the station at Hanwell—a charge was made against him of causing the death of James Price by fighting—I had known the prisoner well—I said, "I am very sorry to see you in this trouble, Smith"—he said, "So am I, Mr. Scotney, but the man aggravated me; he came into the beer shop where I was sitting, and commenced accusing me

of behaving very ill to my mother"—I said, "I don't want you to say anything to me unless you think proper, and what you say I shall tell the Magistrate"—he said, "I was sitting in the Brickmakers' Arms, in the taproom, and he came in, and accused me of behaving wrong towards my mother; I told him I wanted nothing to say to him, and he came across and gave me a slap in the face, and knocked me off my seat; I got up, and told him if he was as big again as he was I would not stand that; we both drew back, and each took off our coats; we met again, and that was the time I gave him a pop with my left hand under his ear, and a chop with my right hand down his forehead; he fell with his head on the table, and he bled from the nose; I did no more"—I afterwards went to this beer house—I saw the man lying on the table—there was some blood on the table—I saw the iron rim—there was blood all about the iron rim.

(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read, as follows: "Last Monday week I was seeking employment; I went to Dawley, hearing there was some work; when I got to Boswell-bridge I met Truby; he asked me where I was going; we walked together to the Woolpack, we went in and had a pint of beer; we had another pint; it came on to rain; the men came in to dinner, and asked us to drink with them; they went away when their time was up, and told us we might have another pot; we had it; I went into the field, and saw a man that I knew; I inquired if they wanted a carpenter, they did not at present; I came out of the field, and came towards home; when I got home my mother asked me what I would have, some tea or mutton; I said, 'If I have mutton I shall not have tea;' I then went into Truby's house; I said, 'Has Tom come home?' she said, 'No;' I had a pint of beer, and sat down in the taproom; while I was drinking the beer, in came Price, Johnson, and Tripp; Price called for a pot of beer, and gave Mrs. Truby a shilling for it; Mrs. Truby gave him 4d. change, and said, 'That is for a pot you owe;' he said, 'You play at stoppages, do you? you will not serve me that trick again;' I laughed; Price then skid, 'You are here, are you, you snotty hound? you drank all your mother's beer, and you have come to serve this man the same;' I said to him, 'What is that to you?' he said, 'I went to your mother's house this morning, and called for a pint of beer, and she had none, you b——villain, I did;' I said, 'Who do you call a villain?' he said, 'You, you snotty b——;' I said, 'I will not be called a b——by you nor any one else, if you are as big as a house;' he kept on abusing me; I turned my back, and said, 'I want nothing to say to you;' we were left by our two selves, I was sitting on the chair, and he on the settle; he got up, buttoned his coat, took his stick in his right hand, and I thought he was going; he came across the room, and hit me open handed under the right ear, and knocked me out of the chair between the table and the settle, and said, 'There, you nasty b——, take that;' while I was getting up, he got his coat off, and stood in the middle of the room in a fighting position; I hit him on the nose and by the side of the ear; he staggered, and fell with his head on the table, and from there to the floor; I then took my coat off, thinking he was going to get up to have more, but he did not get up until he was pulled up; he sat on the settle, and I thought he was asleep; Truby and Tripp assisted him on the settle; Mrs. Truby came in, and said, 'If that is not a dead man, I never saw one;' I put my hand to his cheeks, and found they were getting cold; I went to my own house, and got some vinegar and smelling salts, and put to his hands and nose; the landlord said we had better fetch a doctor, and we went; why we went the farthest way

was, we thought we should meet a policeman; I was taken into custody the next morning.")

Prisoner's Defence. I was knocked out of my chair, and stood in my own defence; I did not mean to hurt the man; I struck him; I am very sorry for it; a clergyman called here on Sunday to see the governor and to see me; he knew the man and knew me; he said if he could he would be here.

GUILTY. Aged 36.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the provocation. Confined Two Months.

OLD COURT—Wednesday, February 6th, 1856.

PRESENT.—The Right Hon, the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Justice WIGHTMAN; Mr. Justice WILLES; Sir JOHN MUSGROVE, Bart., Ald.; Sir ROBERT WALTER GARDEN, Knt., Ald.; and Mr. Ald. EAGLETON.

Before Mr. Justice Wightman and the Third Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-240
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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Reference Numbert18560204-241
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241. DANIEL MITCHELL DAVIDSON, COSMO WILLIAM GORDON , and JOSEPH WINDLE COLE were indicted for unlawfully conspiring to cheat and defraud divers persons, and for obtaining goods under false pretences.

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242. THOMAS WILLIAM JOHN CORRIGAN was indicted for the wilful murder of Louisa Corrigan; he was also charged upon the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.

ELIZABETH FEARON . I am the wife of Thomas Fearon, an optical turner, of Nicol-square, Hackney. On Christmas day I was at Mr. Burton's, in the Minories, with my husband, the two Mr. Marleys, the prisoner, and his wife—we went there about 5 o'clock in the afternoon—we all of us remained there all night—the females retired to bed about half past 2 or 3 o'clock, the men sat up—we had been playing at cards before we went to bed—there had been some drinking, there were spirits provided—we got up before 9 o'clock in the morning to breakfoat—I saw the prisoner in the morning, I saw him leave the room to go to the warehouse, he wished me good morning, that was about 9 o'clock in the morning—he was employed in the East India warehouse, in Leadenhall-street—he and his wife lived at No. 10, Selby-street East, Waterloo-town, Bethnal-green—the two eldest children of the prisoner were stopping at my house—I went with Mrs. Corrigan to my house, as she wished to go, and we took their children with us, and mine also, from there to Mrs. Corrigan's—we got to her house about half past 2 or 3 o'clock—while we were sitting there talking, the prisoner came to the window and looked in—he looked very cross—he was in the

street, the window was not open—some one opened the door to him, and he came into the room—he said to his wife, "Where have you been?"—she said she had been with me to look after the other children—he said, "You might have come home and looked at the baby first"—I said the baby was all right; and there were other persons present who said the baby was all right, and had been very good—he was cross for some time—I almost forget what he said, there were some other words between them—he said he would have his tea at home—I advised him to have tea at Mr. Burton's, as Mr. Fearon was waiting there for us—he objected to it for some time, but afterwards he agreed to it—he said he would prefer having his tea at home, but the children were playing with some fruit, and I advised him to leave them as they were very good, and go to Mr. Burton's; at last he said, "Very well, I will have a wash and go"—we all three then left the house—I was rather before them—we went on foot to Whitechapel, it rained very hard, and the prisoner said, "Are we to get wet? shall we have a cab?"—we had a cab, and rode in it to Mr. Burton's house—the prisoner appeared rather cheerful till we got to Mr. Burton's house, and then the horse shied, and nearly turned us over; and the prisoner never offered to save us, which seemed very remarkable for him—we jumped out while the cab was going on, but he never put out his hand to save us—the cab was not quite overturned—we all got out—it was about 4 o'clock, or a little after, when we got to Mr. Burton's; we first went into the sitting room where the tea things were prepared, all three of us—Mrs. Corrigan and I directly left the sitting room to go into the bed room, to take our wet clothes off—we left in the sitting room Mr. and Mrs. Burton, the two Mr. Marleys, Mr. Fearon, and the prisoner—the bed room is on the same floor as the sitting room, a small passage divides them—we did not shut the bed room door—we had not been in the bed room a minute when I observed the prisoner come on to the landing which separates the two rooms—I was speaking to his wife—there is a gate at the top of the stairs, which shuts with a spring, to prevent the children from falling down the stairs; it is on the first floor, above the parlour—I thought the prisoner was opening that gate, because there was a sound like the gate clicking—I did not know what it sounded like, but I thought he was opening the gate—the deceased said, "Who is that?"—no answer was given—I said, "Who is that? is that you, Tom?"—by Tom I meant the prisoner—the passage was rather dark, he made no answer, but came into the room, walking hastily—I was standing close to commenced striking her—I rushed towards them and tried to separate them, but I could not, the prisoner had his back towards me—he was rather to the left, the deceased was more to the right, I put up my hands and felt a slight pain in my arm, I did not notice it for the moment, but still kept screaming out for help—I began screaming for help directly the prisoner began to strike his wife—I felt that my hand Mrs. Corrigan—he separated me and Mrs. Corrigan, and threw her towards the child's bed—I rushed up to them, and said, "What do you mean; what are you doing?"—he then threw her on to the child's bed, and commenced striking her—I rushed towards them and tried to separate them, but I could not, the prisoner had his back towards me—he was rather to the left, the deceased was more to the right, I put up my hands and felt a slight pain in my arm, I did not notice it for the moment, but still kept screaming out for help—I began screaming for help directly the prisoner began to strike his wife—I felt that my hands were wet, I looked at them and found they were all over blood—I became alarmed and rushed out of the room—Mrs. Corrigan began to scream directly the prisoner began to strike her—she was lying on the bed with her face uppermost, and he appeared to be striking her about the body, I could not say where, with his right hand—I was not aware that he had anything in his hand—I was so frightened that I rushed down stairs—Mr. Marley overtook me on the staircase—I told him what had happened, and rushed down stairs towards Mr. Cook's, the

surgeon's, holding my arm, which was bleeding—I heard footsteps behind me on the stairs, but did not look behind me—when I had got four doors from Mr. Burton's, I heard the deceased's voice—she said, "Betsy, Betsy"—I turned my head, and begged Mr. Marley to go to her—I saw her behind me—she appeared to be fainting—she fell upon the steps of a house in the street—I went on, and went into Mr. Cook's—I was about having my arm dressed, when the deceased was brought in by Tour men—she was brought into the surgery where I was sitting—I felt very ill, and left the room—I was not present when she died—I have known the prisoner between eleven and twelve years—when I saw him the morning after Christmas day, as he was leaving, he had been drinking all night, at least, I cannot say all night; he had been drinking, but he had had a wash, and appeared somewhat refreshed—I saw him drink before I went to bed—he had a wash in the morning, and appeared better, but I do not suppose he had exactly recovered from the drink by his appearance—he appeared to know what he was about—I merely said "Good morning" to him—he had had his breakfast before we came out of the bedroom—when he got into the cab in the afternoon, he appeared under the influence of drink, but he had had a wash, and was again refreshed; still he had been drinking—we could discern that the instant he came to the window, because he looked wild about the eves, which he generally did if he had been drinking—he was in the habit of drinking—I have known the prisoner and his wife living together for about seven years—we only knew them a part of the time—I believe they lived rather unhappily together—we were not in the" habit of visiting their house—I do not think they were living very happily.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Although they were not living, according to your belief, happily together, did he always behave kindly to his wife? A. From whatever I saw of him—I have seen her violent—when sober, he always treated her very kindly—I do not know that he bore any anger against her for anything that she did—he will be thirty years of age in April—he is a commodore or sort of foreman at the East India Warehouse—he has been for some years given to habits of drinking—I do not know that he was addicted to drinking much before his marriage, but I know he has since, especially this last year or two, and this last six months more than ever—I have heard his wife speak of his suffering from delirium tremens, and I have heard him speak of it.

COURT. Q. What is delirium tremens, do you know? A. No, I do not—I merely heard him say that he was suffering from it, and his wife said so also—it was only on the Christmas night that his wife was telling me that he had suffered so badly in the week from it, that she was obliged to sit up with him at night—he was alraid of something hanging upon the wall close to the bed—I have very often seen him in a state of intoxication.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Have you seen him suffering from disease arising from it? A. No—I do not know that he was at all jealous of his wife—I never saw any signs of it—he had been sitting up the whole of the Christmas night—I and the other females went to bed, and left him and his male companions up drinking—we left them about half-past 2 or 3 o'clock—they were drinking when we went to bed—they had everything on the table, and there were liquors mixed, brandy and water, and the means of obtaining more after that was gone—from the appearance of the bottles in the morning, they had not been drinking much, as we remarked in the morning—he remained up all night, and did not go to bed at all—he had washed himself in the

morning, and that seemed to refresh him—he had every sign in the morning of having been drinking, which he had been for the week past—I had seen him at intervals during the week before—we were at a party together on Christmas eve, and he was very violent, and struck a young man that he had never spoken to, and Mr. Fearon and others had to pacify him—the young man had given him no provocation—I saw him under the influence of drink during the week, not drinking—I lost sight of him from 9 o'clock till 3 o'clock on the 26th—he appeared to have been drinking when I saw him at 3 o'clock—his eyes were very much swollen—when he came to the window, we quite started—the observation was made among us all, "How he looks!"—there was a very great wildness about his appearance—he looked very quarrelsome and cross, and his eyes looked bloodshot from drink, and swollen—there was a wildness of manner about him—we reached Mr. Burton's house about 4 o'clock—the horse shied, and nearly overturned the cab—I opened the door, and jumped out—he appeared quite unconcerned—he continued sitting in the cab without moving, and I turned round, and said, "We might have been run over for what you cared," and he took no notice—the horse was still going on, and my clothes caught in the wheel—he took no notice of what I said—I heard of his having an injury to his head—I did not know of it—we were not exactly acquainted with him at that time—on one occasion when he did not arrive home to tea at the time he promised, his wife and he had some words, and she scratched his face, and he held her hands—he did not strike her, he merely held her hands.

MR. PAYNE. Q. When was this? A. About two years since—we were not in the habit of seeing them together much, he occasionally called on Mr. Fearon and my brother in law, and I had opportunities of seeing him—I saw more of him than I did of his wife—he has called more often of late, sometimes twice and sometimes three times a week, without his wife—sometimes he would stay away for a month—I did not see them together often of late, we did a year or two ago, but not of late—she had a young family, and I had a young family; we did not often meet—I have not seen any quarrel since that which took place two years ago—I have seen him once or twice come out of his place of business—I have never been there—I do not know whether he attended regularly to his business, I believe he did, I do not know—I believe his hours of business were from 9 o'clock till 3 or 4—on the 26th he left at 9 o'clock to go to that place, and I saw him again about 3 o'clock at his own house.

ANN BURTON . I am the wife of Edward Burton, and live in Church-street, Minories. Mrs. Fearon is my sister—Mr. and Mrs. Corrigan came to our house on Christmas day, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon—I did not observe anything particular about the prisoner when they came in; he appeared very cheerful and happy—after tea there was gin and water and brandy and water taken—I left the room, I think, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the morning, or it might have been later; I do not exactly remember; it was at the same time as Mrs. Fearon left—the prisoner was very dull when we left—he looked very dull from 11 o'clock; I remarked to his wife how dull and excited he looked, and she said he well might, for he had been drinking for some months—I did not exactly remark him when I left, I only remember that he looked dull, and, I believe, intoxicated—I saw him about a quarter to 9 o'clock next morning, up and dressed, ready for business—I saw him for about ten minutes at that time, he had to hurry off to business—he took two cups of cocoa before he left; he took it standing, as he was

in a great hurry, as the clock was just striking 9—he had to be at his business at 9 o'clock—I had no conversation with him daring that ten minutes, only he said that he did not feel very well—I next saw him about half past 2 o'clock; he came to our house, I let him in—he was very much intoxicated—I spoke to him—he looked rather strange, he looked behind him—I asked him if he had any one with him—he made no answer, but shook his head—he went up stairs, but returned again, I think in a minute—I asked him if he had heard a knock as he returned so quickly—he shook his head again and said he was going, and went away—I did not see him again till about 4 o'clock—I did not see him come in then, I heard them come in; I was in the sitting room preparing tea, and I heard him and his wife, and my sister come in, talking cheerfully together, but I cannot say what they said—I heard a faint shriek from the bed room—thinking it was a joke, we listened a moment, and then, we heard some dreadful shrieks—I ran into the bed room; I saw some one rush past me quickly; I do not remember who it was, I was so excited—I rushed in, and saw the prisoner on my child's bed, with a knife in his hand—it was open, and clasped in his right hand—I ran to him, and caught the handle of the knife, but he threw me off, and began for a moment to be very violent—I struggled with him, and screamed for help—I asked him if he wished to do any harm—he said nothing—I asked him what he meant to do, or what he had done—he looked wildly round the room, but made no answer—my husband and Mr. Marley came to my assistance, and I then got the knife from him—I looked the knife in an iron I safe in the next room—(looking at a knife produced by inspector Gernon) it was a knife like this—I did not remark it much at the time; it was left in the safe until the inspector came, and then my husband got it and gave it to him—I believe I closed the knife, but I was very excited at the time, and cannot say positively—I did not say anything to the prisoner when I had got the knife from him, I ran away—I had known the prisoner about twelve years, and had known him and his wife living together about six or seven years—I have heard that they lived unhappily, but I cannot say—I think I have heard her say she was not very happy.

COURT. Q. Do you know yourself how they lived together? A. No, I I did not know anything about their domestic affairs.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you visit at their house much? A. I think I have been at their house twice, but have not staid many minutes—I saw the prisoner very often, he called chiefly on business—he was a very quiet harmless man, I never saw him out of temper—when I saw him with the I knife in his hand he looked dreadfully wild, and very agitated—I shook him once by the shoulder, and asked him if he intended to hurt us, or what he had done, or what he could mean—he looked wildly round the room, firgt nodded and then shook his head, and then looked wildly round the room.

EDWARD BURTON . I am an optician, in Church-street, Minories. I remember the prisoner and his wife, with other persons, being at my house on Christmas day—I saw the prisouer early next morning—I had not lost sight of him all night—I might at intervals, but he had been in my house and company from something like 6 o'clock on the Christmas night, until 9 o'clock the following morning—the females retired to the bedroom, and the men remained up—I do not know of anything particular that he was doing during the night; he was a guest of mine, and we were all enjoying ourselves—in the early part of the evening we sat conversing, and I think each of us sang a song round, or nearly so; then we supped, and after

supper they were about to retire, but it being wet I persuaded the females to go up stairs to bed, instead of going out into the wet—there was some drinking going on during the night, but not more than you would find in the most rational society that was ever formed—the prisoner breakfasted hurriedly in the morning—I saw him drink some cocoa, I believe—I do not think I spoke to him—he was hurried to get to business, and stood with the cup in his hand while I passed from one room to the other—he did not appear intoxicated then—I cannot say that he was intoxicated when the females retired to rest, but he looked remarkably strange at some part of the night, after the females had retired—I saw him again somewhere about half past 2 o'clock, that same day—he came up stairs at my house, and said, "Where is my mistress?"—I said, "In the other room," but she was not there—he then left the house, and I saw no more of him until about 4 o'clock, when they came in the cab—I did not see Mrs. Fearon and Mrs. Corrigan go into the bedroom—the prisoner came into the adjoining room, the sitting room—the first thing of any importance that I heard was some screaming—that was two minutes, or not so much after the prisoner had come into the room, it was what a person would call immediately.

COURT. Q. Where were you when he came in? A. In the sitting room, on the same floor as the bedroom—he came into the room where I was—I saw him go out of the room again—that was soon after the two women had gone into the bedroom to change their clothes; they went into the bedroom and he came into the sitting room—I did not see the females arrive, but I believe he came into the one room, and they went into the other—he said nothing that I remember whilst he was in the sitting room—the next time I saw him was when I was attracted by the screams—I saw him go out of the room—the whole transaction did not take two moments—he came in and immediately went out, without saying anything that I heard, and then I heard the screams.

MR. PAYNE. Q. When you heard the screams, what did you do? A. I rushed immediately into the bedroom adjoining, from which the screams proceeded, I there saw my wife holding the prisoner in a lying position on my child's bed—I did not see the deceased, or Mrs. Fearon—I flew to the assistance of my wife—I assisted her in getting the knife away from the prisoner—the knife got into my wife's hands, by the conjoint exertions of the whole of us, I should imagine—my brother in law, Mr. Fearon, was also there—I have every reason to believe this is the knife—my wife locked it up in our iron safe, and when it was inquired for I took it out, or passed the key for some one else to do so, and gave it to inspector Gernon, about half an hour after the occurrence had taken place—I afterwards saw the deceased at Mr. Cook's surgery—as to the prisoner being sober at this time, I cannot say, but I never saw him in such a state before in my life—I have at times seen him intoxicated.

Cross-examined. Q. Was his appearance when intoxicated the same that he presented on this day? A. Oh dear no—he presented a very wild, frantic appearance on this occasion, with a strange glaring of the eyes, and a thick perspiration on the upper lip—his coming into the room was so hurriedly that I had scarcely time to observe his appearance closely then, but he looked peculiarly strange when he first came in—he had sat up with me the whole of the preceding night—his appearance was very strange after the women had gone to bed—I never saw a man appear so strange before—I can scarcely describe it, but he seemed lost—I could not imagine that he was himself at all—when anything was addressed to him, he did not seem to

know what we were speaking of—he was not so drunk but what he could have told—I noticed that his general appearance was very peculiar indeed—his eyes seemed wild, peculiarly strange; in fact, he seemed lost—this was about 4 o'clock in the morning—I have known him for about sixteen years, and have associated with him intimately—I am sorry to say I hare seen his wife somewhat provoking to him—he has on those occasions acted in the most kind and benevolent manner—I have never seen him attempt to strike her in my life, but I have seen her strike him—he behaved very gently indeed to her, and showed very great forbearance—after this transaction had taken place, he stood there fixed; he could not speak to me—I led him down stairs, and gave him into custody—I asked him, over and over again, to give the knife to me—he made no answer at all—he did not seem to know what I was saying—it took the whole of our united efforts to get the knife from him—his eyes were glaring very much, and rolling fearfully—I was not present at any accident that he met with—I saw him once when he was suffering from an accident—it was a wound in his head—he was kicked, I believe, and taken to the London Hospital—I did not see him there—he would not stop in—I did not see the wound itself—I saw him with his head bandaged—that is, as near as my memory serves me, seven or eight years ago—I did not know for a positive fact that he was away from business on that occasion.

MR. PAYNE. Q. you say that he appeared lost on this night; did he appear lost the next morning, when he was going away be his place of business? A. No, he appeared as usual then.

CLARA BROWN . I am servant to Mrs. Burton. I remember the day after Christmas day—when the cab came that afternoon, I opened the door, and saw the prisoner, his wife, and Mrs. Fearon—they went up stairs into the sitting room—I saw the prisoner in the sitting room afterwards—I saw him cross the landing place from the sitting room to the bedroom—I saw him part his wife from Mrs. Fearon, as she was untying his wife's bonnet—I then screamed out.

Cross-examined. Q. You opened the door to him? A. Yes—I noticed his appearance—he looked very wild about the eyes—I knew him before, by coming to my master's house several times—I noticed that he had a peculiar appearance on this occasion.

THOMAS FEARON . I am the husband of Elizabeth Fearon. I was at Mr. Burton's when they came in the cab—the prisoner appeared excited—I heard the screams—I was about to go down stairs, and I saw my wife run down—I went on to the landing, and then into the bedroom, and assisted in getting the knife away from the prisoner.

JOHN HENRY COOK . I am a surgeon, in the Minories. On Wednesday evening, 26th Dec., I went with Mr. Burton to Aldgate Church, and saw the body of Mrs. Corrigan—I did not see her at my surgery—she had been removed from there to the Church—she had then been dead about two hours—I examined the body, and found three wounds, one on the top of the left shoulder, about an inch and a half in length, and about half an inch deep; one on the inner side of the shoulder, about an inch long, and superficial; and the third on the inner and upper part of the left breast; that was about an inch long, and in depth to the breast bone—I traced that wound with a probe, and found that the instrument had entered the cavity of the chest—by the direction of the Coroner, I made a post mortem examination of the body—continuing my investigation of the wound, I found that the instrument had struck the bag that covers the heart—I laid it open, and then came to the heart itself—I found in it a longitudinal wound,

about half an inch long, and nearly a quarter of an inch in depth; which wound was the cause of death—they were such wounds as might have been occasioned by a knife of this kind—it would require some force to make a knife penetrate to that part of the heart.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe you had not known any of the parties until you were called in on this unhappy occasion? A. No—the disease called delirium tremens is the result of a constant habit of drinking—I think it is a disease which generally gives signs of its coming for hours before—it depends upon the stage of the disease whether it produces entire delusion—it does in extreme cases produce entire delusion upon every subject—it is generally the case that when a person has been subject to attacks of delirium tremens, a very little will excite another attack—a swollen appearance about the pupil of the eye would be one of the signs of delirium tremens—it is generally one of the symptoms—it shows the state of the brain—I mean the swollen appearance of the eyelid—a fulness and prominence of the eye is indicative of the state of the brain—I am speaking of a swollen appearance of the eye itself—a swollen and wild appearance of the eye is one of the indicia of delirium tremens—I have seen cases of delirium tremens—a thick perspiration on the face or lip is an indication of it—it is mentioned by writers as a strong indication of it—there is an extreme state of delirium tremens which is decided insanity—that is the cane where a man requires five or six persons to hold him down and control him—he is perfectly unconscious of what he says or does; and when he recovers, if you ask him if he is cognizant of anything he said or did, he will tell you he was not aware of it—some kinds of insanity may be cured, even such insanity as, while it lasts, prevents a person from knowing the' difference between right and wrong—there are forms of delirium tremens in which a person does not know the difference between right and wrong—unless I saw a patient while under a fit of that kind, I should not be able to tell from any description.

MR. PAYNE. Q. Supposing a person to have been labouring, upon a previous occasion, under delirium tremens, what effect would drinking all night have upon him? A. It would have a tendency to throw him into the same state—the drink would reproduce it—delirium tremens follows upon drunkenness—it often occurs after a person has been drinking excessively that taking away the stimulant will produce delirium tremens—sometimes a fit of delirium tremens lasts for days, at other times but for hours—it all depends upon whether you are able to procure sleep—if you procure sleep, the disease generally subsides at once.

Q. Does a person labouring under delirium tremens from intoxication of necessity not know right from wrong? A. Not necessarily, I think—it may come on during intoxication, during excessive drinking, and it may also come on by the stimulus being withdrawn—a great deal depends upon the constitution—an attack generally comes on within about twenty-four hours after the stimulant has ceased—I find persons suffering under delirium tremens labouring under delusions, and expressing those delusions—if a man had been drinking at night, and went to his business in the morning with nothing the matter with him, delirium tremens might come on the same afternoon, if he had been drinking excessively the night before, and been in want of sleep and rest.

COURT. Q. Then if a man had been drinking much the night before, delirium tremens might come on the following day, although he had exhibited no symptoms of it in the morning? A. It may.

MR. PAYNE. Q. Although he had exhibited no signs of delusion in any way whatever, will you say that? A. Yes—it might come on after excess—delusion is a part of the effect of delirium tremena—after the disease is set in and established, then delusion is manifest—I have seen several cases of delirium tremens—I have remarked in extreme cases of delirium tremens that there is an absence of the knowledge of right and wrong; for instance, I go and find a man requiring five or six persons to hold him down, and prevent his doing himself some bodily harm, and everything he says and does is inconsistent—generally in delirium tremena the party who commits an act of violence is labouring under the delusion that somebody is about to hurt him—that is a very frequent delusion—I have met with a case where a man would fancy that the police were after him, and he would jump out of bed suddenly, and go the window, and break a pane of glass, and endeavour to get out, and if there had not been some one there to prevent him he would have thrown up the window, and precipitated himself into the street—there would be a plain indication of delusion in that case—violent excitement from drink very much simulates a weak state of delirium tremens—a man who is very intoxicated would have symptoms of delirium tremens, but not all the symptoms—he would probably be very violent—you often see a man intoxicated in the street, requiring five or six policemen to take him to the station house, but that man is conscious nevertheless, and there is no tendency to injure himself—want of consciousness is one of the symptoms in extreme cases of delirium trement—I never saw the prisoner until he was at the police court.

ANDREW GERNON (police inspector). I have produced this knife—I got it from Mr. Burton—he took it out of an iron safe, and gave it to me—I saw the body of Mrs. Corrigan lying on the sofa at Mr. Cook's, and afterwards saw it in the vault at Aldgate Church with Mr. Cook—the prisoner was brought to the Leman-street station in custody by two City officers about half-past four o'clock on 26th Dec.—they said that he was charged with stabbing his wife, and she was at Mr. Cook's—I went there, and found her dead—when I came back, I ordered the prisoner to be put into the dock—he seemed excited when he was first brought into the station, but when I returned he was calm—I said to him, "Do you know what you aer brought here for?"—he said, "Yes, stabbing my wife"—I said, "She is dead, and the charge against you will be her wilful murder"—he seemed very much affected, and burst into tears—I examined his hands, and found some blood upon them—upon conveying him to the police court the following day, he said, "Can I see my wife?"—I said "No"—he said, "All I recollect is giving her one stab, so," lifting his hand, and then he bunt into tears, and was very much affected—I have a letter here which I received on the Saturday morning following, from a woman who was sent by the deceased's sister with it—it is addressed to a Mrs. Hoare, a sister in law of the prisoner.

EDWARD BURTON re-examined. I know the prisoner's handwriting—this letter is his writing, and also this other letter appended to the depositions—(Letters read: "House of Detention, Friday afternoon. Dear Betsy,—With a broken heart, I write to ask you to take all the care you can of my poor dear children till I can make some arrangement with my friends. Do not pay any money out of that trifle I left you; please God, they will be able to get up a benefit at the theatre, or some other place, and I expect there will be 61. allowed for the funeral. You must get it done as cheap as possible, but do not slight the remains of inv poor murdered wife. Oh!

Betsy, if you knew the anguish of my mind, I have no rest night or day now that I have come to my senses. Oh! Betsy, save me a lock of my poor Louisa's hair; now that she's gone, I would give anything to undo what I have done. Be kind to my poor helpless children, and the great God, that I trust in for mercy for my crime, will reward you. When you come up with my shirt, bring my blue waistcoat, and take the one I have got on away with you; you must get the most you can upon it for the children; also a collar or two, and my black necktie: if you can carry baby with you I should be glad to see her. Oh! Betsy, forgive me for what I have done, and beg of your father to do so too; none of your feelings, bad as they are, can be like mine, as I am the cause of all If you cannot come tomorrow, you cannot come till Monday; when, if you will bring a little butter with you, I shall be glad. Give my love to my poor father and sisters, and accept the same for yourself, from your heart broken and wretched brother-in-law. You most try and come at 12 o'clock.")—(" House of Detention, Friday night. My dear Mrs. Fearon,—In the midst of my dreary solitude I write to you, to beg you will forgive me for the injuries I inflicted upon you in my madness of Wednesday, though I honestly feel assured you believe they were accidental; but, my God, if I had wounded you in a vital part, as well as my wife, what would have been my torture to know that I had committed two murders. Let me beg of you to forgive me for the harass of body and mind I have caused you, and also Hannah, and your sister Lucy; tell them that I hope their fates may be happier than mine; give my kindest and best respects to them both; ask them not to hate me; tell them that I would not deliberately hurt a worm, either drunk or sober, much less go so blood thirsty to work as to buy the knife in cool blood to murder a woman. Little did I think when I bought it what would become of it; but it is done, and may God have mercy upon me for it. Give my respects to Tom, and all who inquire after me. Thank them for their interest in my behalf. If you have an opportunity, can you see Jack, and ask him to exert himself about a counsel for me as soon as possible. I have written to Ben Rose. I have never been very backward in assisting others, and among them all something may be done, but do not have Pelham; have somebody better than him: have a counsel for criminal cases, and send him to me before Thursday, so that he may meet the case at Arbour-square on Thursday morning, if possibla I will endeavour to collect my energies together, and pray to God to give me strength to go through it all. Pray for me too; none of us know what hangs over our heads; who would have thought on Christmas night I should have been here now. Good bye, God bless you, and Tom, and Hannah, Lucy, Dan, and all of you. I can be seen any day, except Sunday, from 12 till 2 o'clock by two friends. That God may take you all into his good keeping is the earnest and heartfelt prayer of your faithful and true friend, H. CORRIGAN.")

GUILTY . Aged 29.— DEATH .

Before Mr. Justice Willes.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-243
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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243. JOHN CIVIL , feloniously and knowingly uttering a forged 5l. note, with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and BAYLEY conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN POWLES . I keep the King's Arms public house, in Shadwellmarket—I have known the prisoner between three and four years—I do not know what he is, but he gets his living by getting ships for sailors, and shipping them, that is the only employment I have known him in—on the

afternoon of 4th Jan. he came into my house with another man named Moran, just after 5 o'clock—I was sitting in the bar parlour at my tea—they came into the side box, directly opposite the bar parlour door—I saw the prisoner hand what I supposed to be a 5l. note to the barmaid; he asked her if she would get it changed for him—she brought it to me, and I took it and went out to him, and gave him 4l. in gold, and 1l. in silver, and came back again, leaving him and Moran standing there for two or three minutes, and then they went away—I put the note into my waistcoat pocket, I wrote the name of Civil on it, and my own name underneath his—this is the note (produced)—I afterwards paid it away to Messrs. Hanbury's collector—it was returned to me on the Saturday, and I then caused the prisoner to be apprehended.

Prisoner. Q. How many notes did you change that Friday? A. I do not know, it might be one, two, or three, I never kept any particular account—I am sure this was on the Friday, the 4th—it was not on Saturday—it must have been before I changed your note that I changed the others—I may have changed one afterwards, I cannot say—I understood that you lived in Three Cup-court.

CHARLES WILLIAM POTTER (policeman, K 212). I consequence of information, I apprehended the prisoner on Saturday, 12th Jan., in High-street, Shadwell—he was in company with some other men—I told him he was charged with uttering a 5l. Bank of England note to Mr. Powles, of the King's Arms, Shadwell, on the 4th—I showed him the note—he said all he had out of it was 30s., he sold a man 10 lbs. of tobacco—I asked him if he knew the man—he said, "I know him very well"—I asked him if he knew where he lived—he said, "No"—I asked him if he knew his name—he said, "No"—I then took him to the station—on the way there I said to him, "Moran was in the King's Arms at the time?"—he said, "Yes"—he said he was just going down to Gravesend.

WILLIAM HENRY CAMPBELL (police sergeant). On Monday, 14th Jan., about half past 10 o'clock in the morning, I took the prisoner to the police court in Arbour-square—I had known him for eight or nine years—I always knew him to get his living by looking after seamen for boarding masters, and shipping seamen on board ships—after we left the station I said to him; "Civil, what is the matter with you now?"—he said, "They say I have changed a forged note at Powles's, in Shadwell-market"—I said, "I wonder you would go there to do it, knowing you"—he said, "I did not know it was bad, or else I would not go"—I said, "Where did you get it?"—he said, "Two seamen gave it to me to change; I went into Powles's to change it, and returned them the change; I afterwards took their bags to the railway station, for which they gave me 2s."—I said, "Do you know them?"—he said, "No, I don't know them; they were going to Liverpool"—I said, "I wonder you did not get more than 2s. from them"—he said, "That was all I could get."

Prisoner. Q. The 2s. I told you about had no allusion to the note, I had that for porterage; they were two distinct parties. Witness. You told me they were the same.

JOSEPH BUMSTEAD . I am one of the inspectors of notes at the Bank of England. This note is not from a bank plate; it is a forgery in all respects.

Prisoner's Defence. I have lived in the neighbourhood for twelve years, and I have used Mr. Powles's house between two and three years, and had I been aware of it's being a forgery, or anything of the sort, I should never have attempted to pass anything of the sort at Mr. Powles's house, knowing

that he oould have me taken in two or three minutes without any trouble; I have a witness who can prove that I was at Blackwall on the Friday, so Mr. Powles must be mistaken in the day.

WILLIAM MORAN . It was on the Saturday night of the new year that I saw the prisoner at Mr. Powles's get change of a note.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. At what time? A. Between 7 and 8 o'clock—I did not go with the prisoner to get the note changed—Mr. Powles is my landlord—I owe him five or six months' rent—I am in his house perhaps forty times in the course of a week—I have known the prisoner a good many years—I swear that I did not go in with the prisoner—I keep a boarding house—he works at carrying chests and things for seamen, and for any one that can give him a job—I have been a coal whipper—I am a registered basket man.

JOHN POWLES re-examined. I am sure that Moran and the prisoner came in together—had not Moran come in with him I should have made some scruple about changing the note.

GUILTY . Aged 53.†— Four Years Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 6th, 1856.


Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-244
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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244. EDWARD BASLEY , robbery upon Eugene Comerford Clarkson, Esq., and stealing from his person 1 watch and other articles, value 11l. his property: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .† Aged 22,— Transported for Fourteen Tears.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-245
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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245. THOMAS DENNIS , stealing 1 coat and other articles, value 2l. 13s., the goods of Charles Ling; and 1 handkerchief, value 2s., the goods of David Birch: having been before convicted of felony: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-246
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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246. JOSEPH GREENLAND, GEORGE ROFFEY, SAMUEL DANIELS , and CHARLES COOK , breaking and entering the dwelling house of John Crossland, and stealing 1 pair of boots, value 1l., his property.

MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN CROSSLAND . I am a stationer, at Nos. 1 and 2, Fenchurch-street, in the parish of St. Gabriel, Fenchurch-street—Seeker is in my employ as housekeeper—I do not reside in the house; Seeker occupies the upper part and attends to the offices; he is my servant in the evening and morning. On Tuesday evening, 1st Jan., I left the premises at 20 minutes before 7 o'clock—I left on the premises my two errand boys and two shopmen, as usual, and I expect Seeker was up stairs—one of my boys was named Toone—these boots are mine.

JOHN SECKER . I am housekeeper to Mr. Crossland—I do not recollect his going on the evening of 1st Jan.—I saw the foreman of the shop leave at 7 o'clock—he was the last that left, but Toone and Soper could not have been gone long—they had shut up the shop as usual, and I put up the chain at the door when the foreman went away—that was at the private door—there

is a door from the passage into the shop, and there is ft door from the shop into the street when the shop is open—I hare nothing to do with that door, the shopman had to do with that—I saw that the shutters were all up—the chain I put up was at the private door going into the street—about 8 o'clock I had to go down into the cellar for coals—there is a door to unlock before you go down into the cellar—that is the only entrance into the cellar—I unlocked the door, and went into the cellar—that look might be opened from the inside by lilting a little bolt of and drawing the lock back—any person from the inside could get out—the door was locked when I went down—when I got into the cellar I felt a mess under my feet—I lighted the gas to see what it was, and it was a nuisance—I went to get a shovel from the cupboard under the stairs—the cupboard door was scarcely closed, I opened it, and saw three persons—I can only swear to two of them, which were Greenland and Roffey—the first word Roffey said was "Murder him!" and they all came out, and immediately I was knocked down with a stick: I cannot say by which of them—I got up, and got the shovel, and made a stroke at one of them—they got behind me, and got the shovel out of my hand—I ran up stain to try to fasten them in the cellar, but Greenland got up before me—he ran to the street door, and tried to open it—he found the chain was up, and he came back, and they all knocked me down again—two of them had sticks, but I cannot say which—Greenland was kneeling on me when I was down, and he said, "Give him the knife; let him have it"—he got on my chest, and jumped on me, and the other two escaped—Greenland then got off me, and ran away—as soon as I came to my senses I ran out to Lombard-stree—Greenlands was stopped by a gentleman in Lombard-street, and brought back—I had called "Stop thief?"—I was in a very bad state, and was attended by a doctor—as soon as I got hold of Greenland, he said, "I am sure I am not one what was in"—that was before I had said anything to him—I and the gentleman took him back to the premises, and sent for a policeman—on the Saturday night before, I had observed the private door had been left open by somebody, and I had to shut it twice that evening—that was a little before 7 o'clock in Hie evening—if that door were left open, a person could get to the cellar door—when I opened the cellar door on that Tuesday evening, 1st Jan., I had to use a key—the first cellar is a coal cellar, the other is a cellar used in the business—there are men at work there all day, but the top door is kept shut—the door between the two cellars is left open is the day—I bled very much—I struck at one of them with the shovel, but I did not hit them, one of them got behind me and caught hold of me—they used their sticks and knocked me down before I touched the shovel—I did not see any knife.

MAURICE WALSH (City policeman, 530). About 9 o'clock on the night of 1st Jan. I was sent for to Mr. Crossland's house—there was a great crowd—I saw Seeker standing at the door—I went with him, and found Greenland in custody of a person named Win ton—Becker told me that Greenland was one of three persons who were down in the cellar, and had beaten him in a most violent manner—Greenland said he was not there, he knew nothing at all about it—I searched him, and found on him a key and a whistle—in taking him to the station he said, "I will not suffer alone, there were two other persons with me in the house; one named George Roffey, he lives in Bermondsey New-road, the other is James Daniels, he lives in Russell-street "—in consequence of that, I went at 1 o'clock in the morning, with another officer, to No. 32, Bermondsey New-road—I there saw the prisoner

Roffey—they were in bed at the time we knocked, but another lodger came and opened the door—we asked if Mr. Roffey lived there; they said, "Yes"—we saw Roffey; he had the appearance of having been in bed—we told him we were two police officers, and he was charged with being one of three persons who had been in Mr. Cropland's house in Fenchurch-street, about 8 o'clock on the previous evening; he said, "I know nothing about it, I was down at Dockhead at that time"—I told him to get his clothes, and they were brought to him—on taking him to the station, after we had told him we had Greenland in custody, he said, "Now you have Greenland and me, you had better find Daniels"—I do not think Daniels' name had been mentioned in his presence before he mentioned it—he said we might find Daniels at 8 o'clock the next morning at a public house in Russell-street—I think he named the public house, the Coopers' Arms—we went there next morning, we did not find Daniels there, but at his house, No. 5, Rowland's court, where his father and mother live—we told him he was charged with being one of three persons who were concealed in Mr. Crossland's house, and beating his housekeeper—he said he knew nothing at all about it—his mother said he was at home at 8 o'clock in the evening—that was the hour that was mentioned—he said, "Mother, the gentlemen are right; I was one of the three that were there"—he said there were two of the boys at Mr. Grassland's concerned in it as well—he said they let them in, and one of their names was Toone and the other Fred—this pair of boots was found on Greenland.

JOSEPH BROWN (City policeman, 584). From information, I went to No. 13, Artillery-place, Horselydown, on Friday, 4th Jan., about 9 o'clock in the evening—I saw Cook there; I told him I came to speak to him about being concerned with three lads who were found concealed in Mr. Crossland's house in Fenchurch-street, on the previous Tuesday—he said, "Do you mean Greenland, Roffey, and Daniels?"—I said, "I do"—he said, "I know nothing at all about it"—I told him I had a very strong suspicion that he did know something about it, as I had seen him in company with them on the previous Saturday evening—he said he was not in Fenchurch-street on the Saturday evening (I had previously told him I was an officer)—I told him it was not in Fenchurch-street that I saw him, but in Philpot-lane—he said, "You are right, I was in Philpot-lane; they asked me to go with them, but I did not know what they were going to do"—he said he was to stay outside to see all was right—he said he went with them again on Tuesday evening, but all he knew then was, that they were going to conceal themselves in Mr. Cropland's house—he said he did not go inside, but he was to wait outside till they returned—I took him to the station, and in going along I pointed to the place where I had seen them standing in Philpot-lane, twelve or fourteen yards down from Eastcheap—when I pointed to the place, he said, "You are right"—Greenland, Roffey, and Daniels, were with him when I saw him on Saturday night, about a quarter past 7 o'clock—they were standing talking together—on the Tuesday evening, I went to Mr. Grassland's, and found Walsh there—on searching Greenland, I found he had this pair of boots on, and in the inner cellar at Mr. Grassland's I found an old pair of boots, which I showed to Greenland, and he put them on, and said they were his—I found this stick in the passage, and there is a mark of blood on it—I found this chisel in the outer cellar, near the stairs—I did not find any knives—I heard Walsh give his account just now, it is correct—Roffey said if we went to the Coopers' Arms the next morning, at 8 o'clock, we should find Daniels.

Q. Tell us what Roffey said when you first saw him? A. He came down with his trowsers and stockings on—I said we wanted to see Mr. Roffey—he said, "My name is Roffey"—I said, "I believe it is George Roffey?"—he said, "Yes"—I told him he was charged with being concerned with two others with being concealed in Mr. Cropland's house—he said he was not there—he afterwards said that he was, and that Mr. Cropland's boys had put them up to it—Toone and Fred Soper had told them to come—that they had made arrangements to go on Saturday evening—he said, "We went on Saturday evening, and they would not let us in, the door was shut in our faces; we went again on Monday evening, but we did not get in; we afterwards saw them, and told them we were not going to be deceived in that way; we told Toone if he deceived us again we should punch his head, or box his ears; we went again on Tuesday evening, and walked by the house two or three times; we saw Toone in the passage, he beckoned us in with his finger, and took us down into the cellar, and showed us the cupboard where to hide, and when we heard a door shut up stairs that, would be the last signal, and all would be right"—I went to apprehend Daniels—at first, he denied it, and his mother said he was in bed at 8 o'clock—he said, "It is no use telling lies, mother; the gentlemen are right, I was there"—in going to the station he said there was another concerned in it—a lad of the name of Cook was waiting outside—he said they should not have interfered with the man if he had not struck them with the shovel, and he showed his hand on which were two places where the skin was knocked off.

COURT. Q. When Roffey told you this about Toone, where was Walsh? A. He was walking on one side, and I on the other—he might not have heard it.

Roffey. I deny being in Philpot-lane on the Saturday night.

Daniels. I deny being there on Saturday night; I was at work at the time. Witness. I have not the slightest doubt you were there.

Cook. You say that I told you I was waiting outside; I told you I went over the water with them, but I did not know what they were going to do; I was not in Philpot-lane on Saturday night.

THOMAS MYLES (City policeman, 516). I was left in charge of the house on the 1st Jan.—while Greenland was taken to the station, I found these two knives in the passage, about 8 o'clock—one is a clasp knife, and it was closed—this other is a knife that will not dose.

MR. CROSSLAND. This knife that will not close is a knife that one of my boys used to have in the cellar to eat his dinner with—this clasp knife I know nothing about, nor this chisel.

HENRY WINTON . I am a tailor, and live in Bell-yard, Temple Bar. On 1st Jan., about 8 o'clock at night, I was standing at the corner of George-yard, Lombard-street—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw Greenland running towards me—I tried to stop him, and his cap fell off—he got away, from me without bis cap—I picked the cap up and overtook him—I knocked him against some shutters, by way of stopping him, at the corner of Clement's-lane—Secker came up, and we took him back to Fenchurch-street—when at the station house I heard him say, "There were others in it; I will not suffer alone."

JOHN SECKER re-examined. I know nothing about this knife, or the chisel, or the stick—I was up stairs that evening, cleaning the office—the upper part is let out in offices—I clean them every night after I shut the street door, which it is my duty to shut after they leave the shop—I was up stairs in my own room before the door was shut—I had tea about 5 o'clock

—I generally remain up stain till after 6 o'clock—Toone would know that I stop up stairs.

MR. CROSSLAND re-examined. When persons got into the cellar they would have to break through a door to get into the shop—there was valuable property there—a great many stamps—there was 2l. or 3l. in the till.

Roffey's Defence. I throw myself on the mercy of the Court; if it had not been for the shop boys I should not have done it.

(Mr. Purdue, steward to Mr. Davis, of Twickenham; Robert Balance, a builder, at Bermondsey; William Nantitty, a licensed victualler; and John Roffey, and Benjamin Roffey, the prisoner's uncles, gave Roffey a good character.)




COOK— GUILTY . Aged 17.

Four Years Penal Servitude

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-247
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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247. GEORGE BROWN , stealing 2 lbs. weight of opium, and other drugs, value 3l. 15s., the goods of William Edward Beckett and others, his masters: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 29— Judgment Respited.

(James Moore, an envelope cutter; and John Haylehan, a pork butcher, gave the prisoner a good character).

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-248
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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248. THOMAS M'GUIRE, alias Thomas Heffernon , breaking and entering the dwelling house of Alexander Rea Thompson, and stealing 5 pictures, and other goods, value 6l.; his property.

MR. TALFOURD SALTER conducted the Prosecution.

SAMUEL KENTFIELD . I am living at Mr. Sims' office, No. 45, Elgincrescent, Paddington-road—Mr. Sims is my master. On 23rd Dec. he was repairing the house of Mr. Alexander Rea Thompson, in Paddington-road—I was pot in charge of the house, and of Mr. Thompson's goods—it was my business to sleep there—about 7 o'clock on the evening of 23rd Deo. I left that house by the front door—I shut the door, and fastened it with a spring lock—I went to my own house—I returned a little before 9 o'clock the same evening—I was very poorly, and I got another watchman—I returned with Jeffery, and on applying the key to the street door, I found it was fastened on the inside—I staid outside, and sent Jeffreys round to the back of the house—I heard him, when he was inside, call out, "Sam, here is one; and I think there is another gone up stairs"—I said, "Open the door"—he opened the front door, and I saw the prisoner just behind the door; Jeffery had got hold of him, and he delivered him to me—the prisoner struggled very violently—Jeffery went to look over the house—I asked the prisoner how he came there—he said he had just come from Reading, and he came there for a night's lodging—I asked him how that hole came there—there was a hole cut through the brick wall, leading from the hall to the drawing room—it was large enough for a man to get through from the hall into the drawing room—he said it was not him—I searched him, and took from his pocket a chisel, and put it into my own coat pocket—I found a couple of little sash lines laid down close by him, and there was a jacket lying on the bricks where the hole had been cut—he said the jacket was not his—he afterwards asked me to let him put that jacket on—I then left him in custody of Jeffery, and I went over the house—I went into my bed room and found the things all strewed about the place—I

then unlocked the drawing room, which I had left looked at 7 o'clock—I went in there, and missed the sash lines that I had seen in the hall—I went into the dining room, and saw that fire pictures had been taken off the nails, and were packed up ready lor removal—the prisoner was given in charge—I went part of the way to the station with him.

Prisoner. He swore that I opened thai door with the key, and he took the key from the door himself, and that I broke through the wall; I did not; he says I was very obstreperous in the house. Witness So you were.

MR. T. SALTER. Q. When you left the house, was the window of the billiard room closed? A. Tea, and after I had taken the prisoner I went into the billiard room again, and found the window open.

COURT. Q. How long before you left the house had you been in the billiard room? A. About one hour and a half, and the window was shut—it is a sash window—it was lifted up when I came back.

GEORGE JEFFERY . I am a watchman on the Kensington-park Fstate where the prosecutor's house is. About 9 o'clock at night, on 23rd Dec. the last witness called on me, and in consequence of what he said I went to the back part of Mr. Thompson's house—I found the window of the billiard room half open, sufficiently to admit the body of a man—I went through into the hall, and found the prisoner behind the door—he had two window blinds under his arm—I opened the front door, and gave him in charge of the last witness—on searching the house I found the prisoner's shoes in the billiard room—he afterwards put them on—he was taken to Mr. Sims's, and given into custody.

WILLIAM BENDLE (police sergeant, T 42). I took the prisoner—he ran away, I ran and took him—he said, "Don't, d—your eyes, stop me."

Prisoner. I said, "I don't care, I am safe." Witness. No, you did not—you had no shoes on or hat, and were running as fast as possible.

Prisoner's Defence. I am a hard working chap; I had been to get work, and was coming home; this house was empty; I Went in to stop there; the watchman came, and took me down to the bottom of the house, and brought me up again, and then they found these things; they asked me if I was cold; I said, "I am not hot;" he said, "Put on this jacket;" I said, "No, the man that it belongs to may come for it;" he made me put it on, and I did; I bad not the window blinds on me at all.

GEORGE JEFFERY . I told him to put the jacket on, as it was cold, and in the station I put it on him myself—he had the blinds under his arm when I first saw him: he dropped them, and we took them up.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-249
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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249. THOMAS M'GUIRE, alias Thomas Heffernon , was again indicted for feloniously stabbing Samuel Kentfield on his neck and throat, to resist his apprehension.—2nd COUNT, to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. TALFOURD SALTER conducted the Prosecution.

SAMUEL KENTFIELD . After taking the prisoner to Mr. Sims's, when we got on the road towards the station he became very obstreperous—I walked first—the prisoner had got Jeffery's stick out of his hand—I took it from him—Jeffery said, "He has got a knife"—I struck him on the hand with the stick—he turned very obstreperous, and we tore him out of his boots, or he kicked them off.

COURT. Q. You were taking him to the station, and he became violent? A. Yes—he took Jeffery's stick, and I took it from him—I saw the knife in his hand—I struck him over the hand a little smartish blow—I tried to reach the hand that had the knife in it—he said he would rip my guts out

—he had the knife open in his hand—he held it up—I was reaching after it—he tried to stab both me and Jeffery—he wrenched himself away from Jeffery, and came to me, and stabbed me—he jumped right on me from the back—I could not tell where he put his hands, but he struck me with the knife just under the right ear, as far down as the middle of the throat—on that I fell, and saw no more—I made the best of my way to the doctor's, about 300 yards off—the blood was flowing from my wound—they took me home on a chair, and I have been at home ever since, six weeks last Sunday—the wound discharges a good bit now.

Prisoner. Q. When you brought me out of the house, did not Jeffreys give you a stick? A. No, he did not—we either tore your boots off when he became obsteperous or you kicked them off.

Prisoner. I asked you to let me put my boots on, and you would not let me stop to put them on; you hit me several times with the stick; I put up my hand to protect my head; I told you not to strike me. Witness. No, he never said anything about striking; he had his hand up beyond his head with the knife in it—I did not strike him till he said that he would rip my guts out.

GEORGE JEFFERY . I was taking the prisoner to the station, with the last witness—he commenced struggling—he stopped in the first place, and Kentfield and I went to pull him along, and pulled him, as it were, right out of his boots, or he might have kicked them off—we were pulling him; they came off, and he was struggling, trying to get away from us—he tried to throw me down, and I made the best use of my feet to try to keep up—I had not hold of his boots at all, they came off because they were not tied on—I hurried him to go—he put his boots on, but they were not laced—I never kicked him, he kicked me—I was walking on after he left his boots, ten or fifteen, or twenty yards—he said, "Let me put my boots on"—I said, "No, I will see you d—first; had you been quiet you should"—he said, "Won't you?" and he seized me, and I struggled with him—he said, "You b——, if you don't release me I will stab you"—he shook me about, and tried to get away from me—he let go his right hand, and drew the knife out of his pocket, and held it over me—I said to Kentfield, "He has got a knife;" and Kentfield hit him with the stick, I could not swear where, but he struck him, and he went to try at the hand which had the knife in it, and in the struggle the prisoner got out of my hold—he had the knife holding up, and away he went to Kentfield, and then away he ran as hard as he could go—I went after him, and a policeman stopped him.

Prisoner. Q. Did I take the stick out of your hand? A. Yes, you did—at the time you were coming out of the house Kentfield did not have my stick—I said to him, "Take my lamp," and he did—he did not hit you with the stick, till after the knife was drawn—there was no blow at all till after you took the knife out of your pocket.

WILLIAM BENDLE (police-sergeant, T 42). On the evening of 23rd Dec., I was coming down the Clarendon-road—I saw the prisoner running towards me, without cap or boots on—he had this knife in his hand—I collared him, and he cut me with the knife across the fingers of the hand I held him with—he got out of my hands once—I took him to the station.

JOHN COGLAN . I reside in Clarendon-road, and am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons. About 9 o'clock on the night of 23rd Dec., Kentfield came to me, he staggered as he was coming in at the door, he was bleeding profusely; he had a lacerated wound beneath the right ear—it had passed into the gland—the wound was bleeding profusely—it had cut the

external jugular vein, which was divided near its origin, and several smaller veins—the wound was very much lacerated, about as deep as two joints of the finger—it was very dangerous—if it had not been attended at once he might have died—I did what was necessary—he is still suffering from the effects of it.

Prisoners Defence. I work hard for my living; I was coming quite peaceably till my boots came off; I own I struck him in my own defence.

GUILTY . Aged 22.— Five Years Penal Servitude.

(The Court directed that Kentfield should receive 40s. reward.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-250
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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250. ANTHONY RUSH and GEORGE TALLON , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of James Croake, and stealing therein 1 till, value 5s., and 3s. 6d., his property.

JAMES CROAKE . I live at No. 104, Royal Mint-street, and am a cheesemonger. On 7th Jan., I went to bed about half-past 12 o'clock—I was the last person up—the house was all safe, the windows were latched, and the door locked—I was roused in the morning between 3 and 4 o'clock, by the policeman—I got up and found the prisoners were there—the policeman had them—the bolts Were taken off the cellar flap—I had seen that fast the night before at half past 12 o'clock—if a person got in at that cellar flap, they could get into the shop by coming up from the cellar—I missed from the counter in the shop a drawer which had contained about 3s. 6d. the night before—this is the drawer—I had seen Rush lurking about a day or two before—I only saw him once.

Rush. Q. Did you examine the cellar flap that night? A. Yes; I can swear it was fastened—it was locked outside, and bolted inside—I know there was some money in the till.

Tatton. Q. Was the lock or the bolts broken, or the flap broken? A. No—I stated that the boy fastened the place, but I looked after it.

COURT. Q. Are you sure you saw the flap shnt down the night before? A. Yes, quite sure.

JOHN BROWN (policeman, H 186). I was on duty in Royal Mint-street on the morning of the 7th, about a quarter past 3 o'clock—I saw Rush kneeling on the pavement, apparently doing something to the cellar flap—after he had been there some time, we saw the cellar flap open, and Rush received the till from the cellar flap, and, he, and Tallon; and another man went down Blue Anchor-yard—I and another officer followed them—we apprehended the two prisoners, we did not lose sight of them at all—we found them all three in a court—there is an opening at each end of the court—I ran round—the other constable went down the court after them—when I got round to the other end, Rush was taking money out of the till—directly I turned into the court, I saw Tallon; they were all three together—I am sure the prisoners are two of the men whom I saw at the prosecutor's—I had seen them both before.

Tatton. You stated in your deposition that you saw the till passed out and handed to another prisoner, and you believed it was by me. Witness. I saw the till passed to Rush, but I did not say I saw it passed by you—I saw you come out afterwards—I was about fifteen yards off—there was a light opposite where the man was kneeling.

Rush. Q. Can you swear it was me kneeling? A. Yes—I was within about fifteen yards of you, on the opposite side—we had been watching you some time, because you had a pair of lighter boots than you were used to—I

had tried the cellar flap about half past 2 o'clock, and it was fast—I saw you when you turned into Blue Anchor-yard, and I went down there.

ABRAHAM ERNEST (policeman, H 148). I was with the other officer—the account he has given is correct.

Talloris Defence. The charge is breaking and entering, and you heard the prosecutor state that neither the lock nor the bolts, nor the cellar flap was broken, and the policeman states that he believes it was me gave another man the box, which you know is not evidence; I have been a licensed hawker, but the trade being slack, and not having money to renew the licence, I took to be a jobbing porter at Billingsgate, and was going there when the constable came, and took me into custody, and began to knock me about; I asked him what he used me so for, and he took me to this gentleman's house, and charged me with breaking in; but you can see there is no evidence to convict me on that charge.

Rush's Defence. The prosecutor states that neither the look nor the bolt nor the cellar flap were broken, how then could I have broken in; and he cannot swear whether there was money in the till; at the police court he said that his wife told him there was money in the till.


(The prisoners were further charged with having been previously convicted.)

EDWARD FENNELL (City policeman, 32). I produce a certificate (Read: "Central Criminal Court, Anthony Dasher, convicted, Aug., 1849, on his own confession, of stealing a handkerchief; confined six months ")—that was the prisoner who now gives the name of Rush—I had him in custody, he is the same person—he was then a boy—in the same year, he had three months summarily for stealing a handkerchief, and since that he has been convicted in the Third Court, and had twelve months.

GEORGE PULLEN (policeman, K 161). I produce a certificate—(Read: "Clerkenwell Sessions, Jacob Regan, convicted, Aug., 1852, of breaking into a warehouse, and stealing 84lbs. of nails; having been before convicted; transported for seven years")—Tallon is the man—I have known him these nine years—he has been several times summarily convicted.

Tallon. He has made a grand mistake; I do not know this man.



Six Years Penal Servitude.

(Upon hearing the sentence, Tallon threw a large piece of coal, which he had secreted upon him, at the Recorder, which very nearly struck him.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-251
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

251. WILLIAM CLIFFORD , stealing 4 stoves and other articles, value 5l.; the goods of Daniel Rutter and another.

THOMAS HARRIS . I live at Hillingdon, and am in the employ of Daniel Rutter and another. I had to take care of some empty cottages, in a brick field, belonging to them—I saw them all safe on Wednesday, 9th Jan., about half past 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I had the key of one of the cottages—the tenant had taken away the key of the other—I locked the one that I had the key of, and I tried the front door of the other, and it was safe—the stoves were in that cottage that I had the key of—I went on Thursday morning, about a quarter before 11 o'clock—I went to the cottage I had the key of, and found the shutter broken—there was a pane of glass broken, and the window was open—I went in, and found the left hand room stove gone, and the two brass knobs of the door—from the right hand room there was another stove gone, and part of an oven door frame—an iron window frame, and two brass knobs off the door, and a piece of zinc

was gone—I went into the adjoining cottage by the back door—I missed the tap from the boiler and the stove from the back room—I have seen some of the articles since and identified them—I was present when the prisoner was examined before the Magistrate—he was called on for his defence—he said that he stole the things, but did not break into the cottages.

WILLIAM REED , Jan. I am a journeyman bricklayer. I was at work on that Thursday morning about half past 7 o'clock—I saw the prisoner come by the back of these cottages with a sack on his back—about five minutes before, I had heard a knocking in the houses—I am sure the prisoner is the man that came by the back, I knew him well before.

Prisoner. Q. How far were you off these houses? A. About twentyfive yards when I heard the knocking—I do not know what you had in the sack, it was a tidy load.

RICHARD ROLFE . I live in the parish of Hillingdon—I know the prisoner—I saw him on that Thursday morning, about 20 minutes before 8 o'clock, coming down the field where I was at work—he was about 200 yards from the cottages—he had a bag which he was carrying on his head and shoulders—he spoke to me.

JOSEPH HENRY TAYLOR (policeman, T 115). I am stationed at Hillingdon. On that Thursday morning I went with Harris to those cottages—I heard him describe the things that were missing—I found the shutter broken of the cottage which he had the key of—the window was open, the back door had been nailed up, and that was open, and the back door of the other cottage was open, and there was a square of glass out of the window, which would enable a person to open the window, and the back door could then have been opened—I suspected the prisoner, and from information I went the next morning to a man named Langley—I saw him and spoke to him—I went to his house in the afternoon—I found three pieces of zinc and part of a window frame—my brother officer had been there previously—Langley was taken and convicted of unlawful possession of the things—I took the zinc and window frame to the cottage, and they fitted exactly.

Prisoner. Q. When did you go to Langley? A. I met him on Friday morning, about 7 o'clock—I told him I was going to his house—he said, "Beaumont called on me last night, and said there were two houses broken open"—I said, "Do you know Bitt Clifford?" he recollected, and said, "I do"—I said, "Have you bought anything of him like stoves or knobs?" he said, "No"—I said, "When did you buy anything of him?" he said, "About a week ago"—I saw him again the same evening, near Windsor, and I again asked him if he had bought anything of you—he said, "No"—later in the day I saw him at his house, and I found these things—I asked him if he had bought anything of Clifford, he said no, he had not—I said, "I wish you to account for these things"—he said, "I bought them of Clifford"—I said, "When T—he said, "On Tuesday"—I said, "I believe they were safe after that"—he then said, "I bought them of Clifford on Thursday."

THOMAS DENTON (policeman, T 100). I went to Langley on Friday, 11th Jan., about 9 o'clock in the morning—I examined the back yard, and found a quantity of pieces of iron grating, and part of the frame of the oven door and boiler top—I took a part of them, and fitted them to the oven in the cottage—this is the part that was left in the cottage, and this is the part was at Langley's, and this is the boiler lid—I afterwards took the prisoner—I told him what he was charged with—he said at the station

that he did not break the houses open, the doors were open, but he stole the things, and sold them to Langley.

GUILTY .** Aged 32.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-252
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

252. ELIZABETH CHAMBERS was indicted for a robbery upon Charles Chopping, and stealing from his person 7s. 6d., his moneys.

MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.

ROBERT BEE (policeman, G 95). On 10th Jan., about half past 1 o'clock in the morning, I was on duty in Chiswell-street—I heard a cry of "Oh!" in a man's voice—I looked in the direction in which it came, and I saw a man lying on the pavement, and a woman bending over him, who, I afterwards found, was the prisoner—I saw her run off, and I ran and asked the man if he had lost anything—he said, "Yes; I have been robbed"—I then went after the woman—I am sure she is the woman that was leaning over the man when he was lying on the ground—there was no one else in the street—I called to her to stop, but she did not, she went on till I overtook her—I said, "You must come back with me; you have robbed that old man"—she said, "I have not"—I saw something in her hand, and said, "What have you got there?"—she said, "Money"—I said, "How much?" she said, "Only 1s. 6d., and 4 1/2".—I said, "Is that all the money you have got?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "Are you sure of that?"—she said, "Yes; that is every farthing I have got, so help me God!"—I took her back to the old man, and asked him how much money he had lost—he took out some silver from his pocket, and counted it, and said, "There is about 8s. gone; I can't say to sixpence"—his head was bleeding—the prisoner was trying to put her hand up to her breast—I asked what she had got there—she said her handkerchief—I said, "What does it contain? give it to me"—she said, "No; there are some earrings that belonged to my poor mother, who is now in her grave, I won't part with it"—I took her to the station, and held her hands all the way—I said to the inspector, "She has a handkerchief in her bosom; she refuses to give it me, perhaps she will to you"—she said, "Yes, I will" and she gave it him—there were 4s. in it, and a pair of gold earrings—another constable said, "She has got something in her mouth"—I looked and saw a lump in one side of her mouth—I asked her what it was—she said, "Nothing"—I asked what caused the lump, she said she had the tooth ache—I said, "We must look in your mouth"—she said, "No you won't" and she moved the lump—I took her by the throat—I told her several times to open her mouth—she would not—she shook her head—three other constables assisted, and at last she was obliged to open her mouth, and 3s. 6d. dropped out—she had this room door key in her hand when I overtook her—there was only 1s. 4 1/2 d. in her hand—she stated there was 1s. 6d., and 4 1/2 d.

Prisoner. Where was it you saw me? Witness. In Chiswell-street—I was about sixty yards from you—you had 1s. 4 1/2 d. in your hand—this key was not tied to your apron string, it was round your thumb.

JOHN BUBBERS MATHER . I am surgeon of the G division, I live at No. 63, Bunhill-row—I saw Mr. Chopping, the prosecutor—the Magistrate gave directions that I should examine him, and the prisoner was remanded—the last time I saw him was on Monday morning—he was very ill, and not able to leave his bed—he would not be able to come here to day, certainly, not without risk of his life—his illness arises from the extreme injury his head had sustained from this blow—erysipelas had supervened, but that had gone off, and he had an abscess on the right temple—it was

an incised wound, with jagged edges, more than a lacerated wound—if a person had been struck with this key, I think it was likely to produce such a wound—I dressed his head at the time—he was not at all in liquor when I saw him—he did not smell of it at all.

Prisoner. On the day I was committed for trial, he said possibly it was not done by a key, and now he says it was. Witness. Yes, I did; I had not seen the key then—I was asked if I thought the blow was the result of a door key—I said I should think that a door key would have produced a more violent blow; but when I saw this key, which is only a room door key, I said that it might have been done with this.

ROBERT BEE re-examined. I was present at the examination of Mr. Chopping—the prisoner was present, and had an opportunity of asking him any questions—this statement of his was taken down in open Court—I saw him sign it—(Read: the statement of Charles Chopping on 10th Jan., 1856. "I live at No. 2, Artillery-court, Chiswell-street—I am an attorney—as near as I can imagine, about quarter past 1 o'clock I was in Chiswell-street—I was walking along, I was conscious that I had been drinking—I had a very severe blew from behind—I do not know who struck me, I think it must have been a man—the blow knocked me down, and I was on the pavement—when I recovered a female was near me, close in front—I put my hand into my pocket, and I believe I hallooed out—a constable came—I took what money remained from my pocket, and was certain I lost 7s., 6d., or 8s.—I had, I think, 4s. left—I had been at a Mr. Peters—I had there, no doubt, from 12s. to 14s.—I was robbed by a female, I have no doubt, but I cannot identify any one—I had a cut at the back of my head, and bled."

Prisoner's Defence. I had a drop of something to drink, I came to Bunhill-row, and was going home; the policeman came, and said, "You must go back with me; you have knocked an old man down, and robbed him;" he asked me what I had; I said 1s. 10 1/2 d.—he took me back to No. 2, Artillery-court, the man was lying opposite his own door, on the ground; the policeman said to him, "Is this the woman that robbed you?" he said, "I don't know;" he undid the door; the policeman said to me, "You must stop;" I took my handkerchief to wipe my face; he said, "Give it to me;" I said, "I have in it a pair of earrings, belonging to my mother;" he said, "I don't believe you have got a pair;" I said, "Yes, I have;" I gave them up at the station; I wished to have the money I had, I can give a good account of it; I had the money from a gentleman I had been to meet against the brewery, he gave me half a sovereign; the policeman saw me go by, arm in arm with him at 11 o'clock that night; I had changed the half sovereign, and had 9s. 4 1/2 d. when I got to the station; the man did not charge me with robbing him; I was charged the next morning; the man was drunk, and was locked up all night for being drunk and insensible; he said he was sorry he accused me, for it was done half an hour before the officer came to him.

COURT to ROBERT BEE. Q. Was the prosecutor confined that night for being drunk? A. He was—he stated that night that he received a blow at the back of the head, but he did not know who it was—he was kept in a cell by himself—the surgeon dressed his head, and said he had better be kept quiet, which he was—he was not confined for being drunk and insensible, he said he had no one at his own house—he made a charge against this woman that night—I am sure of that—he said he could not tell who the woman was, but some woman had robbed him.

Prisoner. I was never asked if I had any more money; I had a hole in my pocket, and I put the 3s. 6d. in my mouth to give my landlady when I got home.


THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 6th, 1856.


Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Seventh Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-253
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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253. CHARLES LOVELOCK , stealing 2 pairs of trowsers, 1 coat, 1 gun, and other articles, value 4l. 8s.; the goods of John Taylor, from a barge on the Grand Junction Canal: having been before convicted: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-254
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded part guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude

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254. JAMES WOOD and WILLIAM TRAILAND , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Horatio Fenton, at St. John's, Clerkenwell, with intent to steal: both having been before convicted: to which

WOOD PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Four Tears Penal Servitude.

TRAILAND PLEADED GUILTY to the burglary, but NOT GUILTY to the previous conviction: and the Jury were swoorn to try the question.

WILLIAM SHAW (policeman, S 127). I produce a certificate—(Head: William Traikmd, convicted, at Clerkenwell, March, 1852, of stealing money from the person; Transported for seven years)—I had him in custody—Trailand is the person.

Trailand. I am not the person. Witness. I am sure of you—I did not know you before you were convicted, and have not seen you since—I swear to you by the cut and the pink pock marks on your face—I made a note of them at the time.

GUILTY. Aged 21.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-255
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

255. WILLIAM FROUD , stealing, on 3rd Jan., 30 books, and 80 lbs. weight of paper.—2nd COUNT, stealing, on 16th Jan., 10 books, and 70 lbs. weight of paper.—3rd COUNT, stealing, on 17th Jan., 12 books, and 80 lbs. weight of paper; the property of our Lady the Queen.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

MATTHEW PEAK . I am a police constable attached to the Postoffice. The prisoner was employed there as a labourer, in the vaults, and to carry books to and from the Money Order-office—on 7th Feb. he was so employed, and I was on duty there, and, about half past 3 o'clock in the afternoon, saw him leave, with a bag containing something which looked very heavy—he went up Newgate-street—that is away from the Money Order-office, which is in Aldersgate-street—I followed him, stopped him in Newgate-street, and asked him what he had got—he said, "Some books"—I said, "What are you going to do with them?"—he said, "I am going to take them to the printer's; I am sent by Mr. Dobson"—I asked him to let me look at them—he did so, and they were books of this description (produced)—there were about twelve—I opened one of them, and he pointed out the difference between the two, and said he was going to take them to have a set printed from them—the covers were on them then, and the numbers on the backs—he

said, "I would rather you would go back with me to Mr. Dobaon, or come to the printer's," so I let him go, and returned to the Poet-office, and saw Mr. Dobson—in consequence of what he told me, I went after the prisoner, and found him at the Fulham-bridge public-house, Brompton, about 8 or 9 o'clock, the same evening—I asked him where the books were which I had stopped him with in Newgate-street—he said, "I have got them at the vaults; if you will come back with me I will show you"—I searched him, and went with him to Aldersgate street, where I had arranged to meet the foreman of the labourers—I gave him half a pint of beer, and said, "Now come along with me, and show me where the books are"—he said, with an oath, "I will not go with you"—I said, "You said that you would go with me"—he said, "You have no business to ask me any questions about it; it is not your duty"—I took him to the station, and next day went round to several marine store shops, and ultimately to Mr. Taylor's, a marine store dealer, of No. 236, Upper Thames-street, near Blackfriars; and, from what he told me, I went to Mr. Lee's, a waste paper dealer, at Nog. 10 and 11, Trinity-lane, where Lee and Taylor pointed out a quantity of books to me, some of which I produce—one of them is similar to what I saw in the bag, and there were also some covers which had been taken off—I took possession of all—there was 1 ton 16 cwts. 2 qrs. of books, and 9 cwts. 1 qr. of covers—there were some hundreds of, books, but I did not count them.

Cross-examined by MR. HOBBY. Q. Are the books ever sold as waste paper? A. Yes—they are put up in lots, according to the quality, and are sold to the waste paper dealers, but they are kept six years first—I believe the prisoner was not actually in the employment of the Post-office, but of Mr. Shad wick, a master paviour, o'f Millbank—he was employed to carry books backwards and forwards, and has had sole charge of the vaults for the last twelve months—he goes to the Money Order-office, gets the keys of the vaults, remains there all day, and locks them up, and takes the keys back—two or three other persons are employed there, but the prisoner was responsible.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Are some of these books as late as 1854? Yes; the missing letter accounts and the mail accounts are never sold, but there were some among the quantity found at Lee's.

JOSEPH DOBSON . I am a messenger in the Money Order-office, Aldersgate-street; that is a position in advance of the prisoner, he is a labourer in the vaults. On 17th Jan., about 4 or 5 o'clock in the afternoon, I saw Peak, but he did not speak to me—I know the prisoner, I did not send him or anybody that day to the printer's with any books for the purpose of having them printed in a particular way—old books are never sent to the printer's as patterns.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you ever employ the prisoner? A. Yes; I get orders from the head of the department, and give them to him—I never give him orders on my own responsibility—other persons may give him orders; any of his superiors can do so—I never sent him out with any books.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Are there any of your superiors of the name of Dobson, who can give him orders? A. No.

PHILIP TAYLOR . I am a marine store dealer, and carried on business in Jan., at No. 236, Upper Thames-street I know the prisoner—I first bought old books of him on 3rd Jan.; 1 cwt. 3 qrs. of large account books; and on 16th Jan., 2 qrs, 14 lbs.; and on 17th Jan., 3 qrs. 14 lbs.—all

the books that I bought of him I sold to Lee, a waste paper dealer, in Trinity-lane—the books had covers on when I bought them, gome of them were similar to these produced—I sold upwards of two tons to Lee—I sold him all I bought of Froud—I had seen Froud on other occasions, and other people with him.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you got a memorandum on 3rd Jan. of the transaction with Froud? A. Here it is; but not the name of Froud, he gave me the name of Gardner, and on the 16th the name of C. Jones, Holland-street—I had not known him previous to his bringing the books; the 3rd Jan. was the first account—I only made this pencil memorandum yesterday; it is merely a memorandum I made to refer to the dates—I believe it was on 18th Jan. that Peake called on me—this name of Jones is evidently a mistake in the name; a great many people come into my shop, but there is no mistake in the person—I am quite positive that this "C. Jones" was Froud—I looked at the paper at the time, but did not examine it minutely—I did not open it in this way, I only have to look to see that it is clean—I have bought books of this sort before, and principally of two persons besides the prisoner, who I can point out.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you pointed them out? A. Yes; to the Postoffice authorities—I do not know that there was any one with Froud on these three occasions, there have been on other occasions—I was in the habit of seeing him frequently, sometimes alone, and sometimes with other people—I made this extract in pencil from my books yesterday, before I went before the Grand Jury so that I could refer to the items quicker than having to turn the leaves over.

JOHN LEE . I am a dealer in waste paper, at No. 10 and 11, Little Trinity-lane, and have been so since Aug. On 18th Jan., Peak came to me, and I showed him about two tons and a quarter of books, and the covers of old books, which I had purchased of Philip Taylor—I have not, to my knowledge, sold any part of them—they were bought between 31st Oct. and 17th Jan.—this (produced) is a correct copy of my book, and of what I bought on the 2nd, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 14th, 15th, 16th, and 17th Jan.

SAMUEL WALLIKER . I am a senior clerk in the Money Order Department On 18th Jan., I accompanied Peak to Mr. Lee's shop, and he took possession of a quantity of books and covers—there was about 26 cwt. of paper, and the covers, which were moved on the following day, weighed 9 cwt.—there were 250 money order books, and about 130 letter books, about 70 of which belonged to the Missing Letter Department, and nine to the Accountant General's Department—I have examined them, and they are the property of the Crown.

Cross-examined. Q. The money order books are not kept in the same vault as the missing letter books? A. No.

EDWARD WALSH . I am senior clerk in the Money Order Department I have examined some books belonging to the Money Order Department—they are the property of the Queen—I gave no authority for removing those books, they ought not to have been taken away without my knowledge or consent—no books in my department go away under six years; after that time they are sent to the Stationery Office, where they are sold—some of these books are as recent as 1854—the last books were sent away from my office about July.

SOLOMON PROCTER SLEIGH . I am one of the messengers in the Money Order-office. I heard of the prisoner's apprehension—about a week before

that he was engaged in removing old books from the Money Order-office to the vaults of the Post-office—among them were a number of abstract account books for the year 1848—while they were removing them, Frond called my attention to these account books being of the date of 1848, and were old enough to be sent away; there was another person with him—since that time, and since I heard of this transaction, I have examined the books referred to by Mr. Wallaker, and find books of 1848 among them—the books ought to remain six years in the vaults before they are removed at all—I also observed some books of the Scotch and Irish credit, among those spoken to by Mr. Wallaker.

CHARLES COLLECT . I am a clerk in the mail office, in the Postoffice; I have examined these books—they are the property of the Queen, and a large quantity of them are connected with the mail department, and ought to be in the vaults of the Post-office of the mail department—there is no order given by the authorities of the Post-office to part with the books of the mail department—some of these are as late as 1853 or 1854.

WILLIAM LEWIS WHITE . I am a clerk in the missing letter department I have examined some of the books spoken to by Mr. Wallaker—they are the property of the Crown, and are connected with my department—none have been disposed of since I have been there, which is sixteen years.

MR. HORRY to JOSEPH DOBSOH. Q. Do you know whether Froud was absent on sick leave from 28th Dec. to 3rd Jan., and attended by Mr. Baker? A. (looking at a book) The first day he was absent was the 28th, and he does not appear to have signed again till 8th Jan.—as far as I know, he was absent all that time—it was through sickness.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. What is that book that you are looking at? A. The labourer's signing book—I find in it some entries, and some omissions of entries—I am not aware that the prisoner was only employed to do light errands during those dates.

MR. HORRY to EDWARD WALSH. Q. Have you any means of judging whether the prisoner was absent on sick leave? A. Yes, he did not sign the book till, I think, 5th Jan.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you any means of knowing whether he was, in point of fact, absent, except that which you derive from a book in which he makes no entry? A. I have not; he only works with us part of the day—he was not in the Money Order-office, but he might have been in the General Office.

WILLIAM SMEE . I am a police constable, attached to the Post-office—I cannot say the date, but during the time he was sick, I saw him once or twice in St. Martin's-le-Grand, with his arm in a sling—I asked the question, and found that he was sick.

GUILTY on the 3rd Count. Aged 36.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-256
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown

Related Material

256. WILLIAM FROUD was again indicted with THOMAS BOWYER for stealing 30 books, and 180 Ibs. weight of paper, value 30s.; the property of our Lady the Queen.

MESSRS. CLARKSON and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

SAMUEL SILLETT . I am one of the labourers employed in the General Postoffice; Froud was also employed as a labourer—on 16th Jan. I was at the Money Order-office, about a quarter to 11 o'clock—Froud came there while I was there, and I saw him in the vaults with Bowyer, who had a small dog with him—I left them there, and about 2 o'clock went down to the vaults again, and saw them both there—Bowyer had the dog with him then in the vaults

where the money order books were kept—I remained there not more than half an hour, and then went out, and left the prisoners there.

Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. You were employed with Froud in the Post-office? A. I was then—there is no thoroughfare through the vaults—no persons are allowed to go there if it is known, unless they are employed there; but Bowyer came down with Froud—he removed nothing while I was there.

JAMES PULLEY . I am a jobbing porter. On Wednesday afternoon, I think it was this day fortnight, I was at the tap of the Queen's Arms, St. Martin's-le-Grand, between 2 and 3 o'clock, and saw the prisoners there drinking, I believe, together—Froud told me he wanted me—I went to the door, and he asked me to follow him; I did so, down to the vaults of the Post-office—he went in first to show me the way, as I had never been there before—he gave me a bundle of books, tied together, of a size between these two produced—I saw a cistern there—I brought them to the door of the vault, and asked Froud what I should do with them—he told me to carry them over to the person I had just left, Bowyer—I did so, and found him at the tap—his dog was with him—I put the books down beside him, and said, "Now this is for you; take notice, I have nothing to do with it;" because I was fearful that I might be called out for a job—he asked me what I would take, and I had a drop of rum—Froud came back, gave me 6d., and they went away together, saying that they were going over Blackfriars Bridge; Bowyer carried the books.

Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. This house where you were is frequented by men like yourself? A. I do not know whether Bowyer would take a job like myself, there were persons there who would—Bowyer was betting about the good qualities and beauty of his dog.

JAMES RILEY . I am porter to the "Woodford and Barnet mails. I was at the Queen's Arms tap on Wednesday afternoon, 16th Jan., and saw the prisoners there—I did not see the books brought in, but I saw them on a form, tied up with a cord—they had covers on them, and were nothing like these that are here to-day—Bowyer put them on his shoulder, and when he got them out he put them on his back, and Froud followed them—it was getting on for 4 o'clock—they were going over Blackfriars Bridge—on the next morning I saw Froud at the Queen's Arms tap, and asked him how he got on with his load—he said that he was obliged to have a cab.

Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. This tap was immediately opposite the Poet-office? A. Yes.

PHILIP TAYLOR . On 16th Jan. the prisoners both came to my ware-house between 2 and 3 o'clock with 1 cwt. 3 qrs. weight of books—I bought them, and paid Froud—Bowyer had a dog with him—that was the first time Froud had been to me that day—I believe he did not come again that day—I have two entries in my book—I believe Froud was alone the first time, and the second time was about 3 o'clock—there was at least two or three hours interval between the two visits Froud made—I had seen Bowyer more than once with Froud on the subject of paper, either before or after this transaction—I sold part of that paper to Mr. Lee.

Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. How long have you been a marine store dealer? A. Two years—I have only sold paper for about three months to Lee—I have heard his evidence about the different quantities I sold to him—it is right—I am not in business now—I ceased nearly a fortnight ago—I thought I would give up business—I did not feel very

easy about it—I know that the receiver is punished more than the thief, and have heard that the only way to escape conviction is turning King's evidence—I have seen Bowyer twice with Froud, bnt am not positive whether it was before or after—it was on the sale of paper.

(The COURT considered that there was very slight evidence to show any guilty knowledge on the part of Bowyer; upon which MR. CLARKSON stated that he would retire from the prosecution as against Bowyer, but would complete the case against Froud.)

(The evidence of JOHN LEE, SAMUEL WALLAKER, EDWARD WALSH, and SOLOMON PROCTOR SLEIGH, in the former ease was read over to them, to which they gave their assent on oath.)

FROUD— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-257
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

257. MICHAEL FITZPATRICK and WILLIAM FROUD , stealing 100 books and 500 lbs. weight of paper; the property of Our Lady the Queen.

MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.

(The COURT, upon hearing Mr. Clarksoris opening, considered that there was no case against Fitzpatrick, he being only a labourer, and only present at the time of the sale of the books.

MR. CLARKSON therefore offered no evidence against the prisoners.)


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-258
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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258. ROBERT RITCHIE , stealing, on the high seas, 1 watch, 1 guard chain, and 1 seal, value 61l.; the goods of William Corscaden Thompson.

MR. LILLET conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM CORSCADEN THOMPSON . I am master of the steamer Pacific, lying at present in Victoria Docks. About 28th Jan. I returned from a voyage to Balaklava—the prisoner was a seaman on board—we had no freight, as we were returning after taking navigators to Balaklava—when at Balaklava, I had a gold watch and chain and seal, which I last saw safe I think lying on the table—I seldom wore it on board—there were port holes on one side of my cabin-scuttles, through one of which the watch could be taken if a man was in a boat alongside, loaded with bags: a man's arm, standing upon them, would be on a level with the port—I had two seamen named Osier and Allen on board, and an ordinary seaman, a lad named Campbell—about a fortnight after we arrived in Victoria Docks I received information from Campbell, in consequence of which the prisoner was apprehended, and I was sent for to prefer the charge—I did not see him privately, or converse with him.

DONALD CAMPBELL . I was a seaman on board the Pacific on her voyage from Balaklava to England. We left Balaklava about the middle of Nov., and were about a day and a half running up to Constantinople—after we arrived in England, I left, and boarded at the same house with the prisoner, Parish's, No. 46, Shadwell—Allen lived there also, but Osler boarded in Star-street—I do not know where Parish is, he went out yesterday morning, and I have not seen him since—on the Monday before last, about 10 o'clock, a letter came to the house, and in consequence of that we searched and found the seals in a cupboard, in a cellar, among some glass—I was present—Parish took the seals to Mr. Thompson—on one occasion I was at the Mahogany Bar public house with Ritchie—I had heard that the captain had lost his watch, and I told the prisoner that Osier and Allen had a gold watch to sell—he said that he knew all about it, that Allen had sold the guard for 30s., and gave Osier 13s., and they told the prisoner that they had spent his share among them—Ritchie said that Osier and he went into the boat alongside the ship in Balaklava

harbour, and Ritchie said to Osier, "There is a gold watch and purse," that they went up with a boat of navvies, and landed them, and then they came back, and Osier took the watch, and put it into his bosom, and then took it out, and passed it to Ritchie, and Ritchie passed it to Allen, who kept it till they came home to England—I said nothing.

Prisoner. Q. Did not I say that I believed they did hare it, but that I had nothing to do with it? A. No, you said that you knew all about it—you told me that you said to Osier that there was a gold watch and purse—you said that you had it passed through you hands, and gave it to Allen.

ARTHUR MORRISSON . I am a watchmaker, of No. 84, Leman-street, Whitechapel. On 2nd Jan. a gold watch chain was brought to me for sale by a tall dark seaman and a person who appeared to be a mechanic—I purchased it for 3l.—this is it (produced).

JAMES RUSSELL . I am assistant to my father, a pawnbroker, of No. 10, Shoreditch. I produce a gold watch pledged with me for 10l. by a tall seaman and another man dressed in plain clothes.

WILLIAM CORSCADEN THOMPSON re-examined. This is my watch, and this chain I believe to be mine, it resembles mine—these two seals which I am wearing were attached to my watch when I lost it—they were returned to me by a man named Parish—Osier is a tall dark man.

WILLIAM SAVAGE (policeman, H 212). I took the prisoner on 17th Jan., and told him it was on suspicion of stealing his captain's watch—he said, "Well, I know all about it, and when I see Captain Thompson I will tell him all about it"—he said at the station that he had it in his hand, but did not know that it was the captain's.

Prisoner. I told you that Allen wanted me to take it, and I would not Witness. No.

(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read, as follows: "I did not tell Campbell anything of the sort; I said nothing about a share of the watch and chain; I never had the watch in my hand; I did not know whose watch it was; I only joined the ship that day.")

Prisoners Defence. I joined the Pacific the afternoon before the watch was lost, and the men said to me, "See, there is a gold watch in the port;" I said, "Leave it alone, and have nothing to do with it;" they did nothing to it then, and when we came back they were loading the boat, and he pulled the watch out of his breast, and wanted me to take it, but I would not have anything to do with it, and he went and talked to Allen, and I never heard anything more about it till I came to England.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-259
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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259. JOHN MELVILLE , embezzling the sums of 1l. 12s. 10d. and 5s. 7d.; the moneys of William Hill, his master: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-260
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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260. JAMES MACK , stealing 1 handkerchief, value 6d., and 2s. in money; the property of Juan Antonio, from his person.

JUAN ANTONIO (through an interpreter). I have been a seaman on board the Brickbwrn. Last Thursday night I was in a public house in Leicester-street—I left after 10 o'clock, and as I was on my way home, the prisoner came up to me, put his arm round my arms, put his hand into my pocket, and took my handkerchief and 2s.—I am sure he is the person—I had never seen him before—he ran away, but I laid hold of him, asked him why he took my handkerchief, and saw him drop it from his hand—the police then came.

HENRY HUDSON (policeman, H 78), The prisoner was given into my custody by a seaman, in the Cock and Neptune public house—he said that he knew nothing at all about it.

Prisoner. I was lying on the ground, and you picked me up. Witness. You were lying on the ground—the person is not here who laid hold of you.

Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty; I work hard in the St. Katherine's Docks, and have got a good character.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-261
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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261. EDWARD SIMS , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Ryley Standley, at Hammersmith, and stealing therein 1 watch and 3 knives, value 35s., and 3l. in money; the property of Thomas Desbury.

MR. TALFOURD SALTER conducted the Prosecution,

THOMAS DESBURY . I am clerk to Thomas Ryley Standley, of Hammersmith—one of the parlours of his house is used as an office, and has a window looking into the high road—a person getting over the railings in front, can reach the window by climbing up—on Monday night, 17th Dec., I left the office about 10 o'clock—the window was then fastened down with the fastening, and there was no broken glass—the door was closed—about 8 o'clock next morning I was sent for, and found the window open, and a square of glass broken just above the catch, so that a person could put their hand in and undo it—I missed about 2l. in 3d. pieces, 1l. worth of sixpences, a silver hunting watch, and three penknives—the watch had a glass over the face, and wound up in the face, and the maker's name was Denman, of Newgate-street.

LOUISA GOULD . I am an unfortunate girl. On 18th Dec. I returned home, about 6 o'clock in the morning, to my lodging at an eating house, and saw the prisoner there—he asked me if I would take any tea, I said that I would—he said that he was going to Notting-hill, and that he had come from Walham-green—I went with him to Walham-green and from there to Hammersmith—he was spending money in 3d. bits—he had about 27s. or 28s. worth, and other silver besides, but I cannot say to what amount—he gave me the penknife (produced) which I gave to the policeman—this is it—I remained with him a week and four days—I saw him pawn a watch at Knightsbridge, just this side of Sloane-street, near the park—he said that his father had made him a present of it.

GEORGE HODGE . I am assistant to Mr. Vaugban—he had a silver hunting watch pawned with him—I was not present—here is an entry in this book (produced) of a 15s. watch on 22nd Nov.—I have not got the watch, it was redeemed on 7th Jan.—I did not see it.

SAMUEL TAYLOR . I am chief clerk to Mr. Stanley. I have seen the prisoner several times at the back of the premises occupied by Mr. Cloud, part of which belong to Mr. Stanley—I have turned him out of the place several times—I recollect turning him out and taking him to the station house—I was at the premises at 4 o'clock in the morning, but did not notice the window, but at 10 minutes past 6 o'clock Mr. Butty the foreman, called me, and the middle square of glass was broken, and the window wide open.

GEORGE MILLER (policeman, T 46). The prisoner was given in my charge by Mr. Cook on 15th Jan., on another charge, and Taylor said that he had found him in the stable—I found this penknife on him.

THOMAS DESBURY re-examined. These penkives are both my property.

ELIZA GOULD re-examined. I first saw the prisoner at a quarter or 20 minutes before 6 o'clock, at the eating house—I am certain it was before 6 o'clock.

GEORGE MILLER re-examined. The eating house in question is nearly three miles and a quarter from the prosecutor's house.

GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.

(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-262
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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262. HANNAH HEALEY , stealing 1 watch, and 1 guard chain, value 11l., and 5s. 6d. in money; the property of Robert Henry, from his person.

MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.

ROBERT HENRY . I am examiner of accounts in the East India Docks. On Christmas ere, at a quarter to 10 o'clock, I was at an oyster stall in High-street, Shadwell—while there, the prisoner came up, put her hand in my waistcoat pocket, and took out 5s. or 6s. in silver—I saw it in her hand—she ran away, and I followed her—I did not overtake her, but was not far off her—some men, her confederates I presume, came up—I think there were four men; one of them put his arm behind me, and threw me down on my back—the prisoner said, "All right, Jim, I have got it, all right;" or words to that effect—I then missed my gold watch and chain—the prisoner came to me when I was down—this was at Palmers-folly, which is a court or alley, right opposite the Bull's Head—my watch was safe in my waistcoat pocket when I was at the oyster stall, and was fastened by a gold chain—the prisoner ran into the first house past Palmer's-folly, and I gave information to the police—I had had a glass or two with some friends, but was perfectly sober—I have not seen my watch since.

Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. How many persons have you had in custody about this watch and money? A. None—Edward Southam, who was not before the Magistrate, is here—I might have had two or three glasses of ale, but I knew perfectly well what I was doing—I had never seen the prisoner before—it was a dark night—when I got into this court, I was seized and tripped up—I have offered a reward for my watch, acting under the advice of the police—I have offered a reward of 3l. for my watch which was lost—fifty placards have been printed.

MR. LILLEY. Q. Was there a light at the oyster stall? A. Only at the Bull's Head public house, but that was close.

ELLEN BOWEN being called on fter recognizances, did not appear.

EDMUND SOUTHAM . I am assistant in an outfitting shop, No. 99 and 100, St. George's-street. On Christmas eve, I saw the prosecutor outside the Bull's Head, eating oysters, and saw the prisoner put her hand under his waistcoat, turn round, and run across the Highway—the prosecutor followed her, and struck at her with an umbrella, but missed her—three or four young men sung out, "Up the Folly, up the Folly!"—she ran up the Folly, and I followed her a little way; she went in at the first door—Mr. Henry tried the door, but it was fast, and four young men came and tripped him up, and one of them took his watch, pulled the guard from over his neck, and then ran away—I had seen the prisoner before, and know the house that she went into.

Cross-examined. Q. When were you first spoken to about this to become a witness? A. Last week; it will be about a week to-morrow since I was asked I to come here—Mr. Henry asked me to come; he met me in the street, and I said, "Good evening, Mr. Henry"—he said, "Good evening, you are the young man that saw my accident that evening?"—I said, "Yes," and on

that he asked me to come here, and said if I did not he should subpoena me—I believe the persons next door had told him where to find me—Palmer's-folly is by the end of our shop, and I was talking to a woman who lives next door—I was on one side of the road, and they were on the other—I was right opposite the public house.

MR. LILLEY. Q. From the night of 24th Dec., till you met Mr. Henry, had you seen him? A. Only once, and that was in Christmas week, and I was in a great hurry—on the second occasion I told him what I had seen, and it was after that that he wished me to come up.

JAMES STOCKLEY (policeman, K 66). On 4th Dee., I received information from a woman named Ellen Bowen, and on 2nd Jan., the prisoner was given into my custody at the station—Ellen Bowen gave evidence before the Magistrate; she lived at No. 1, Palmers-folly—after the prisoner was given into custody, she said, "I know nothing about a gold watch"—I had said nothing to her about a gold watch—I said, "I have been looking for you for a week"—she said, "I have seen you on several occasions"—I said, "I very much doubt it."

Cross-examined. Q. By whom was she given into your custody? A. Charles Potts another officer, took her to the station, and she told me that she knew nothing about a gold watch.

GUILTY of stealing the money only.

(The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.)

THOMAS BROWN (policeman). I produce a certificate—(read; Clerkenwell Sessions; Hannah Healey, Convicted, Jan., 1852, of stealing a handkerchief and ten sovereigns; Confined six months)—the prisoner is the person; she was in my custody.

GUILTY.**† Aged 31.— Confined Tuxlve Months.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 7th, 1856.


Before Mr. Justice Wightman and the Fourth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-263
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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263. CHARLES BROADFOOT WESTRON was indicted for the wilful murder of George Waugh: he was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

MESSRS. CLARKSON, CLERK, and GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.

THOMAS KEMP WHITFIELD . I am clerk to a solicitor. On the morning of 16th Jan., I was in Bedford-street, at the end of Bedford-row, and about half past 10 o'clock, I saw the prisoner emerge from Hand-court, and cross Bedford-street towards Bedford-row, as if to enter Bedford-row—instead of doing so, he suddenly turned to the corner of the railing by Bedfordrow, and stood there—he was doing something that attracted my attention, as if he wished to do something secretly, that a passer by might not observe what he was about—I could not see what it was, he had got something up his sleeve—he then proceeded up Bedford-street, my eye followed him—I then saw Mr. George Waugh, the deceased, whom I had known for five or six years, proceeding in an opposite direction—the prisoner, when within about four yards of Mr. Waugh, presented his arm, and I saw something in his hand; it seemed to glisten, and looked like brass—I did not know

what it was at the time, and immediately he presented his arm, he made use of the words, "You villain, you have ruined me; why did you rob me of my property?"—I immediately heard a report, as if from a pistol—I heard Mr. Waugh exclaim, "Hold him, collar him, he has murdered me!"—I then walked towards the prisoner, and when within about a yard of him, as I was going to put my hand upon him, he drew a second pistol from his right hand coat pocket, and cocked it with his left hand—I then said to him, "Why did you shoot the poor man? you ought not to have done that; why did you do it?"—he immediately replied, "He has ruined me, and robbed me of my property"—I said to him, "Now you have ruined yourself"—he said, "I don't care, I have done it;" and he dropped the second pistol—Mr. Waugh was not dead at that time—he was down on the ground—he did not drop for two or three seconds after the report—whilst he was exclaiming, "Hold him, collar him, he has murdered me!" he was on his legs—persons then came up, and the prisoner was taken into custody.

THOMAS HUTCHINS . I am the street keeper of Bedford-row. I was on duty there just before half past 10 o'clock on the morning in question—I heard the report of fire arms, and saw the deceased fall on the pavement—I ran up and the prisoner was then saying, "He has ruined me, and I will be the ruin of him"—he repeated it two or three times over—I took him into custody—on the road to the station, he said he wanted his money, for he intended to go abroad—he mentioned that three or four times over—as we were going through Brunswick-square, he took a knife out of his pocket—I took it from him; this is it (produced)—it was closed at the time.

FRANCIS HATES (police sergeant, 14). I was at the station on the morning of 16th Jan., when the prisoner was brought there—the charge was made against him of having murdered Mr. Waugh—I entered it—the prisoner said, "Mr. Waugh has brought it all upon himself, he has cheated me out of my estate, some acres of land; he is a relation of mine, he has married into our family"—he then turned round in the dock, and said, "Now, I am satisfied"—I have the two pistols; one was loaded at the time it was brought to the station; I have extracted the ball—the other had been recently discharged, the nipple was broken.

RICHARD CHECKLEY (police inspector). The prisoner was at the Clerkenwell police court on the 16th, the same day he was taken into custody—on the way there from Hunter-street station, he said that if it had not been for the deceased he should have had 800l., now he should only have 400l., and God knew when that would be, as he had thrown it into Chancery—the prisoner gave me his address, in Newland-street, Kensington—I went there and found a bullet mould, and some bullets, some powder and caps.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE (with MESSRS. METCALFE and LEWIS for the prisoner). Q. Did you ascertain where these pistols had been bought? A. Yes, they were bought about eighteen months ago—I have prepared a plan of the place where this happened.

ERASMUS WREN . I am a member of the College of Surgeons. I did not know Mr. Waugh in his lifetime—I saw him on the morning in question, about half-past 10 o'clock—he was then dead—there was a gun shot wound on his body—I afterwards examined his body—death was caused by a bullet—it had entered on the left side—I found it seated in the groin, on the right side—it had traversed the body, and passed through the heartdeath must have been instantaneous.

JOHN PYBKE . I was clerk to Mr. George Waugh, a solicitor, in James-street, Bedford-row. He was engaged in some legal proceedings on the part of the prisoner—I do not know how long he was acting as solicitor for the prisoner—I was only there nine months—it had commenced before my time—whilst I was in the office some correspondence took place between Mr. Waugh and the prisoner—he was acting for the prisoner and other members of his family—I posted several letters from Mr. Waugh to the prisoner—I have afterwards seen the prisoner at the office—letters have come from the prisoner to Mr. Waugh—I am acquainted with the prisoner's writing—on 10th Oct. I posted a letter directed by Mr. Waugh to the prisoner—I have a copy of that letter—these letters of 11th and 28th Oct., and 5th Nov., are in the prisoner's writing—(The following letters were read: "To Mr. C. Westron. 10th Oct, 1855. Sir,—Your conduct was so insulting, and your remarks so impertinent and unwarranted, at my office this morning, that I find it necessary to revert to the decision I some time since adopted, when you pursued a similar course, of declining personal intercourse, and desiring that any further communication may be made either by letter or through one of my clerks, and kept within the bounds of reason and truth; in answer to which, every information will be given you as to the Burrow and Munscomb estates. Had you taken a proper course of conduct and conversation this morning, instead of using such expressions as and—scoundrel, and other infamous ones of a like nature, I should have shown you the agreement, signed by your brothers and sisters, for granting a new lease of the property to Mr. Howse for ten years, at the same rent and the like covenants as those in his present one, with the addition of a power from the lessors to determine the same upon any quarter day, upon giving one year's previous notice so to do, and payment of the usual outgoing tenant's valuation, and for any permanent improvement made by him to the property, with their consent in writing. I now have to ask if you will sign such agreement, which is left with my clerk for your inspection. I remain, your obedient servant, George Waugh." "11th Oct. (To Mr. Waugh from the prisoner.) "Sir,—You have been told by me, over and over again, that I will not sanction, on my own behalf—that is, you say, I can do nothing—Mr. Howse taking a fresh lease at a rental of 220l. a year, subject to such swindling deductions as are made through you, namely, expenses, collecting the half year's rent for me, 20l. two sums of 1l. 5s. each, taxes against income, making 12l. or 13l. per cent, upon the rent, besides other expenses. The first part of your letter contains a quotation of some expression you state I made use of in your presence. It is possible I have, but more probable I have not, exactly as you write it, without an additional consonant tnat would have given a more significant bearing, and have been a more apt return of a sotto voce benediction of your own to me. With respect to the other part of your letter, wherein you state you will not see me, I must distinctly give you to understand, that you are too dear to me to allow of my breaking a five years' acquaintance in that abrupt manner; and therefore I shall take the liberty of not only calling, but requesting that you will be visible on the 21st of this month, which will be three months from the time I last wrote you, of which you appear quite oblivious, as also the lapse of time since you served me with a notice of your intention to dispose of the property. I shall have nothing further to say to you, but simply this, that it is my intention to see your son, as I presume he will be placed in your shoes before long, and I should like for him to know how he will be situated

with me when such an event occurs, as there seems more truth than you may perhaps fancy in the remark made by Mr. Ellis, at Tiverton, when he observed that my life hung upon a thread, and had he completed the sentence it would have been, 'and this gentleman's life on my right hangs on a puff of smoke.' I do not intend to have any more correspondence with you, having answered your letter. I am, Sir, yours respectfully, C. B. Westron."—"Oct. 28th. To. Mr. Waugh. Sir,—Since you now seem to be quite oblivious, or rather I should say regardless of time that has elapsed after the first notice you gave me of your intention to dispose of the property, I will thank you to forward me particulars of your account, that some mode of settlement may be devised, and a balance struck between us, as I have a little set off against you. At the same time have the goodness to inform me what your views are with respect to the property; and if, in accordance with mine contained in the late correspondence between us, let me know, as I am desirous of carrying out the promise given to Mr. Coombe, although extorted under a threat of not going into your office, and thereby creating a return of that serious delusion of which he informed me at the same time you laboured under. I am, Sir, yours most respectfully, Charles Weatron." "5th Nov. Sir,—In answer to your letter, I have only to state that you must have been as well aware as myself its contents only amounted to a part of a promise of something being done between this and Lady Day next, provided nothing occurred to prevent it. I have now instructed Mr. Sandys to dispose of my share in the property by 10th Dec. next, let the loss that very probably will occur be what it may. He suggested what perhaps never occurred to you, that my brothers or the other branches of the family might, through your assistance, be induced to give me a trifle for my interest, and then you might have succeeded in your original purpose of managing the property, and your son, of course, would follow in his parent's pattern. Previous to all this taking place, I think it but right to let you know that although my judgment might err in condemning a solicitor who acts in behalf of both plaintiff and defendant, yet I cannot be made to understand how a person is expected to sanction the sale of a property previous to his having seen the title or description of it, as you were so anxious for me to do at the time of compromise; nor how any solicitor calling himself respectable could induce a client to accept a compromise to the value of 7,000l., now states that the purchaser won't have it, but the client must take what he can catch, or perhaps 6,000l., provided nothing occurs between this and Lady Day. You are perfectly aware of the terms of compromise, but not perhaps quite so enlightened as to the difficulty I had of procuring a sight of my title to the property, or either my reason for sanctioning 6,300l. by a public auction, which was not carried out; I therefore consider that I am entitled to have the original offer of 7,000l. carried out. I am afraid, from the letters you have written me, that you have made a very slight mistake with Mr. Burridge's affairs, but you will excuse my speaking a little enigmatically—thereby hangs a tale, but not an entail. You had better make out particulars of your account, and furnish me with same, when I trust, if a settlement is made, it will prove satisfactory to both parties. Mr. Sandys' address is No. 4, Gray's Inn-square, and he will call on Monday or Tuesday. Sir, I am yours respectfully, C. B. Westron.")

JAMES BARRELL . I was clerk to the deceased Mr. Waugh, and had been so for about six years prior to his death. He had been employed as the solicitor by the prisoner in some proceedings—he originally acted for the prisoner and his brothers and sisters at the commencement of the proceedings—they

were proceedings in Chancery—I remember Mr. Waugh going to the Clerkenwell police court in Oct. last—I accompanied him—I think it was on the 12th or. 14th—it may have been the 15th—it was on a Monday—a summons had been issued at the instance of Mr. Waugh, calling on the prisoner to come to the police court at Clerkenwell, and on the Monday, the day the summons was returnable, the prisoner appeared there—Mr. Waugh made a complaint against him in his presence to Mr. Come, the Magistrate, and he read a letter which he had received from the prisoner a day or two previously—that was the letter dated 10th Oct.—Mr. Waugh stated that he feared his life was in danger if the prisoner was left at large, that he had reason to believe, from inquiries I had made as bis clerk, that he was in the habit of having fire arms in his possession—the prisoner was in a position to hear this, and anything he did not hear he asked the Magistrate to explain to him—Mr. Waugh explained a passage in the letter which referred to a conversation that took place at Tiverton in Aug.—he stated that he believed that "the gentleman on his right, whose life hung on a puff of smoke," referred to himself—the prisoner attempted to laugh the matter off by saying how absurd it was for a man like Mr. Waugh, so much bigger than himself, to be afraid of him, or words to that effect, and he endeavoured to pass it off in that way—he laughed at it, and said it was a delusion on the part of Mr. Waugh to imagine such a thing—the Magistrate required an explanation from him, and he said he was not able to give an explanation, as he did not mean anything in the letter—the Magistrate made him make an assurance to him that he would not go in Great James-street again, or in any way interfere with Mr. Waugh, and that he would put his matters into the hands of another solicitor—he consented to that, and the name of a solicitor was mentioned in court—he was not to go to Mr. Waugh's office, or in the neighbourhood—I do not know that the complaint was exactly withdrawn on that arrangement—if he was seen in that neighbourhood again, he was to be brought up before the Magistrate—he was not held to bail—I think Mr. Waugh requested the Magistrate to allow a police officer to go and search his lodging—after this the prisoner employed Mr. Sandys, of Gray's Inn-square, as his attorney—I was not present at the time that an agreement was executed by the prisoner for the sale of his share—I am aware that such an agreement was signed—I saw it after he had executed it—the prisoner never came to Mr. Waugh's office after that day—I have seen the prisoner frequently at Mr. Waugh's office—upon several occasions he behaved himself in a very insulting manner to Mr. Waugh, and once or twice Mr. Waugh requested him not to come to his office again, or if he did that he would see his clerk, he would not see him himself.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. What did the Magistrate do on that occasion, call upon him to enter into recognizances, or what? A. After asking the prisoner for an explanation, he made the arrangement I have stated—he did not place the prisoner under any recognizances—I knew generally of the proceedings that were going on in our office for this family—Mr. Waugh had taken up the suit for them at a risk, in the first instance, and been very successful; but for him, probably, the prisoner would never have got a penny.

WILLIAM SANDYS . I am a solicitor, carrying on business at No. 5, Gray's Inn-square—I was concerned for the prisoner for the sale of his one fifth share—I witnessed and attested his execution of an agreement for the sale of that fifth—this is it (produced)—the 14th Jan. was appointed for the

completion of the sale—this agreement bears date 10th Dec.—the matter was to be completed by the signing of the deeds on 14th Jan.—on the morning of 14th Jan., Mr. Mant, a clerk of Mr. Waugh, called on me—he made a communication to me, which I afterwards communicated to the prisoner—I told the prisoner that Mr. Waugh claimed to retain certain charges from the purchase money, to which I had objected, and in consequence of that the purchase would not then be completed—the prisoner was very angry—I stated distinctly that I did not admit the deductions claimed at that time, but he was very angry, and exceedingly rude in his manner, on the subject, and stated that he would not have anything more to do with the transaction—he left my office soon after, and I never saw him again.

ARTHUR GROVES (policeman, T 188). On Tuesday morning, 15th Jan., I was on duty near Notting-hill-gate, and saw the deceased and his daughter—they got out of an omnibus—he called me to him, and called my attention to the prisoner, who was standing nine or ten yards off, talking to two other men at the gate—Mr. Waugh got into another omnibus, and went towards town, and a few minutes afterwards the prisoner walked on in the same direction—I do not know where he resided at that time.

The following Witnesses were called for the Defence.

HARRIET OGBORN . I am the wife of Charles Ogborn, a City policeman—in March, 1854, we lived in Angel-court, Skinner-street—we are now living in Paternoster-row—in March, 1854, the prisoner came to take a lodging at our house—my husband went up stairs with him, I went also—the prisoner said that he could not believe the bed was long enough for him to sleep upon, and before he took the lodging he should like to measure it—it was a full sized bed, quite long enough for my husband to sleep on, and he is about six feet high—it was a six foot bed—my husband told him that it was long enough for him, we quite laughed at the idea—he still persisted in measuring the bed—he ultimately took the lodging—and remained until May—during that time I had opportunities of seeing him—I used to notice his behaviour every day, and I named to my husband how very eccentric he used to appear, different from what I ever noticed any other gentleman—if I spoke to him on any matter of business, such as letters, I have had brought to me, I would speak to him three or four times, and he would make me no answer whatever—I used at one time to think he was deaf, but I found to the contrary, that he was not deaf, it was only his manner—he used to hold conversations with himself very loud, at night as well as in the daytime—he used very bad language at times, and seemed in a very excited state, when by himself—I have heard him knock his fists on the table in the bed room when he was by himself—I was ill at one part of the time, and lay in bed in the next room to him, and he used to disturb me very much—after I had made his bed he used to strip it almost every day—whenever he was going out, he always stood two or three minutes in the small garden in front of the cottage, eyeing the house over—it was very seldom that I could get him to enter into any conversation, even respecting himself, but when I did, he would break off very abruptly, and say no more—at times he spoke rationally, and at times his conversation was very frivolous, it was quite nonsense, childish talk—when he used to enter into any kind of conversation he used to talk quite childish and silly talk—from what I saw of him while he was with us, I thought he was not correct in his mind, and I spoke of it to his brother.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. What sort of bed was it that he had? A. A cross bedstead, one that will close or open; you pull out the

head board and then it shuts up—it was open when he saw it—he did not measure it—he said that he should come in and do so before he decided, but when he came and told me he would come, he did not do so—he looked at it again very particularly, and then said he would come, and he did come, but he still thought the bed would not be long enough for him—he complained of it every day during the two months he was with us, something was always wrong with the bed or bedstead; he did not complain about the length of it again after he came—he never said anything to me about his property, or about any Chancery suit—he spoke of letters of importance coming to him; he said he expected them from his lawyer, and one did come—I think that was about three weeks after he came to us—I was confined while he was in the house, and lay in bed in the room next to his, and then I used to hear him use bad language; that was about a month after he came—they were very bad oaths, such as men use—the worst of oaths, such as I have heard men use when in drink in the streets—I do not think he was in the habit of drinking, he never had any in my house—he would say d—and blast, and then I would hear a dreadful noise, like his thumping his fists upon his bed room table; it used to make me nervous—there were no other words—this was repeatedly, day after day—I could hear he was swearing, but sometimes I could not hear distinctly; but directly he entered his room I could hear him commence talking to himself—he did not receive more than one letter from his lawyer—he did not complain of his lawyer to me or in my hearing.

ELIZABETH WILLIAMS . I am sister to Mrs. Ogborn, and live with her. I recollect the prisoner lodging at her house—he has on several occasions entered into conversation with me—I very frequently noticed his making noises in his room; walking about the room, and moving about the furniture, and making a great disturbance—at one time he told me he should like to be able to get some spirits to make a fire to burn the devil; that the devil was always walking about after him and annoying him—he said he wished there was a trap door to our house, as he might be able to get outside and see if the devil would appear to him; he should like to challenge him to fight—I was ironing one evening, and he said, did I think if I lent him my iron, if he took that outside with him, that that would frighten the devil—he said once or twice that he should like to get some bullets to see if that would frighten the devil, that he would shoot him with them—he very frequently talked about the devil—on one occasion he told me that he thought if I would lend him one of our saucepans, he should be able to hatch chickens by steam; for he thought it would be a very good plan to do so—I merely smiled, and told him I thought he had better commence about it directly, I thought it would make a very good supper, and he smiled and said, "Perhaps it would."

Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. Did you ever see chickens hatched by steam? A. No—he was in the lodging from March till May—his uncle came and took him away; he insisted on his leaving, or else he would not have left—we did not give him notice to leave—I was frightened when I heard this conversation about the devil—I felt terrified, because he often used to talk to himself, and walk about the room, and swear very dreadfully—I felt rather terrified by this conversation about the devil, because he said it in a very strange manner, and then sometimes he would smile over it—I named it to my sister, but to no one else—I told her husband about it; he was never present at any of these conversations—at the time he walked about the room, and moved the furniture about, he did not seem to be angry—he seemed to be very strange and deranged in his mind, as if he knew not what

he was doing—I was not in the room when he was doing it, but I listened outside the door, out of curiosity to know what he was about—he sometimes mentioned to me that he had legal proceedings going on—sometimes he seemed to be angry when he spoke about it, and sometimes he did not; his mind wandered—I knew that he was receiving letters from a lawyer—I did not know it from himself—the postman used to bring them—we did not see much of his behaviour after the receipt of those letters—he used to go out immediately after receiving them—I cannot tell upon what occasions it was that he would walk about the room, and move the furniture about; he was very strange in all his manners—it was when he came in—sometimes he would swear very violently—we could not distinctly tell whether he was swearing at any person—he never had spirits brought into the house that I am aware of—I never saw him come into the house the worse for liquor—when he talked about burning the devil, he had not been talking about his legal proceedings—it was not connected with that—it was a week previous that he spoke to me about that—it was about three weeks after he came that he spoke about getting spirits to burn the devil—I had before that perceived that he was very strange in his conversation—sometimes he would ask a few questions, and enter into conversation, and when I began to answer him, you could get no reply, or if you did, it would be a very ridiculous one—I never heard the name of his lawyer mentioned—I never heard him speak angrily with regard to him; I am quite certain of that.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You have been asked whether he was swearing at any person, was there any person in the house that he was swearing at? A. No, he was in the room by himself, with the door closed.

CHARLES OGBOBN . I am the husband of Harriet Ogborn, and am a City policeman—the prisoner lodged at our house—when he first came to take the room, I showed him up stairs, and showed him the bed—he looked at it, and asked me if it was long enough for him—I told him that it was a six foot bed, that it was quite long enough for me, and I had slept on it—he said he should like to measure it, to be satisfied that it was long enough, before he took the room—I smiled at him, and endeavoured to assure him that it was long enough, and he said he would call again, which he did some two or three days after—I saw him down in the kitchen on several different occasions with some lead, making bullets in a slice over the fire—he had a pistol—this was about March, 1854—his conduct generally was very eccentric indeed.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did he speak of going to Australia at all? A. I do not recollect that he did—I did not ask him what he was making the bullets for, and he did not tell me—his conduct was generally strange, his general conversation was very strange, he used to talk such nonsense generally—on one occasion he had got the pistol down in the kitchen, pulling it to pieces, and putting it together again—I spoke to him about it, and he told me he liked to have a pistol by him for protection—he said nothing more to me that I considered nonsense—I considered that nonsense, I thought it rather strange—my wife and sister used very often to tell me of the curious remarks he has made to them during the day—they made communications to me about him at different times, almost every day.

MR. METCALFE. Q. I suppose you were generally out on duty as a policeman? A. Yes, almost every day—I did not see or hear so much—from what I did see, my opinion decidedly was that he was very strange in his manner.

WILLIAM ESSEX . I live at No. 7, Carthusian-street, Aldersgate-street—about the beginning of July, 1854, the prisoner lodged with me for one

week—at the end of that time I ordered him to quit, in consequence of the strangeness of his conduct, I did not like him; he was up and down stairs in the night—he went to bed, and left the candle burning close to his bedstead, and went to sleep—I was obliged to wake him to put it out—I considered it dangerous—I cannot say for what purpose he went up and down stairs of a night—it occurred once or twice—on two different nights—I did not hear it more than once on each night, he was not very noisy about it—I cannot say whether it was after he had gone to bed—I should think it was about 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning—I did not hear him about his room particularly—he was in the habit of talking to himself, but not that I heard much of—I did not hear him talking to himself—from what I did see of him I could not form an opinion to say that he was a madman, but I considered he was a very strange man, which was my reason for getting rid of him immediately, as the shortest course.

MARGARET JONES . I reside at No. 29, Red Cross-square. About Aug., 1854, the prisoner took a lodging at my house—he staid between three and four months—his conduct was very strange indeed—he would make his tea in a mug, not an open mug, in a very narrow one, and he told me if anybody came after him to shove them into the gutter—his conduct was strange in almost everything—he used to sit for two or three hours at a time and would not speak to any one.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you told us all the circumstances that you considered to be strange about him? A. I went to his room once, and I did not know he was there—I took in'a clean blind to put up, and he made a dreadful noise, it frightened me at the time—I do not know whether he was angry, I thought that he was out of his mind—he made a nasty noise, just like a dog, grumbling or complaining about my coming in; it was a very strange noise indeed—he said I had no business to come to his room, and I thought I had, to do that—it was about 10 o'clock in the morning—the mug he made his tea in was a little china one, with no caver to it—I have told you all that I observed strange in him during the three months he was with me.

MR. METCALFE. Q. From what you observed during the time he was there, what impression had you as to the state of his mind? A. In everything he did not seem right to me, I thought so at the time.

WILLIAM CARTER . I live at No. 78, Margaret-street, Bagnigge Wells-road—about the end of 1854, or the beginning of 1855, the prisoner took an apartment at my house, I think it was about Dec., he remained about three weeks—he carried on a very strange conduct altogether while he was with me—he used to shove his things about and get very much excited at different times, and aroused our suspicions very much, in fact, we got rather fidgetty, and afraid of him—his symptoms altogether were those of a person not in his right state of mind—he used very often to look up the chimney, and say it was too large, there was too much wind and too much draught—he also found fault with the key hole, and said that the door did not close tight enough—there was no draught, the door was as correct as any door need be; there was no more draught from the chimney than usual—it was a very comfortable room, he very frequently used to pull his bed about the room, and sometimes swore—I do not know whether he alluded to any one, it was chiefly to himself—he used to appear very much excited at times whilst he was alone—I could hear what he said very plainly, because we lived in the next room to him—he said if he did not have this, or that—he was in such deep conversation, and talked so fast we could hardly understand what he did say—I can hardly explain distinctly what language he

used—he was always in a very excited state, as if he hardly knew what he was saying—he denied himself to his friends—I remember once telling him that two ladies had been to see him—he behaved very oddly indeed then—he said they should not come into his apartments, and he did not want to see them, and tore about and seemed to put himself very much out of the way about it—he wandered about the house, from his apartments to the street door, and in the yard, and was always very much excited in his demeanour generally, as if he was not safe to be at large, that is the plain thing, that was the impression on my mind.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON, Q. Have you told us all the circumstances from which you came to the conclusion that he was not fit to be trusted alone? A. Yes—I believe that one of the ladies who called was his sister, and the other his aunt—I cannot say what he meant when he said he would do something if they did not—he was in such an excited state at times I could not explain it, and it was not my business to ask him unless he interfered with me—I was afraid he would do so, but he did not—letters came for him, I do not know from whom—there were one or two, there might have been more—I used to find him a good deal excited after he got his letters, and before too—I cannot tell you more of what he said when he said he could do something; it was, "If I don't have this, I will, I must and I will; it shall be done, I will have it"—that was what we could make out, nothing more.

COURT. Q. You did not know what he was speaking of? A. No; he was talking in such an excited state, that I could not explain what he said—we rather went in fear of him to see him in such an excited state, and likewise to see those pistols.

ELIZABETH RIPPON . I live at No. 34, Coldbath-square. The prisoner came to lodge with me about Nov. or Dec., 1854—I do not rightly remember which; he remained until 5th Feb. 1855—the last witness is under a delusion, he has made a mistake as to the time the prisoner was with him—I know he came to take my lodging about a fortnight before Christmas, and I kept it for him a week—when he came to take the lodging he displayed symptoms of great curiosity—I thought he seemed very strange in his manners—he made several very strange remarks about the room, and went and stooped down and felt all the cracks round the room, to feel if there were any draughts—I asked him for a reference, and he said, "A reference! oh, that is all d—d humbug, I never give a reference; if I give you a month's money in advance, that will be reference sufficient for you"—I never heard any noises in the night—I went into his room one evening, and I saw the fire broom suspended from the fender to the bed; it was not a large room, consequently the handle of it was long enough to reach; a chair was turned upside down, and a coat was placed upon it, as though it was some one dressed and sitting there—it was stuck up to represent a man—I noticed the prisoner's manner from the time of his first coming to the house—he came in a cab, and he quarrelled with the cowman very much, and was in a dreadfully excited state—I have repeatedly heard him talking to himself—he must have talked loud or I should not have heard him—I have spoken to him three or four times without getting any answer, and then he has started up on a sudden, and seemed astonished, and said, "Eh, what!" and then he has given an indirect answer—I formed the impression that he was not sane, and it was under that impression that he had notice to quit our house—I gave him notice to quit.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Was the weather very cold when he came to your house? A. Yes; extremely cold—it was some time in

Jan. that this matter occurred about the coat—it was a dress coat, one that he wore in the day time—it was placed over the chair; it was about 7 o'clock one evening—he was out, there was no fire—I lighted the fire in the morning—it was let out during the day, and lighted again in the evening, because he was always at home in the evening—the chair was turned with the bottom of the rails upwards, and the coat was placed over the back, with the" collar upwards—I did not remove it, or touch it, I left it as I saw it—the broom was suspended from the fireplace to the bedstead, it did not touch the chair—I do not know at what time he came home that night, we scarcely knew when he came in, he was always in very early, but having an open shop, he was in and out when he pleased, he came through the shop—I never spoke to him about the coat on the chair, because I knew he was very strange in his ways, and we always treated him as a man that was not right in his mind—I have not given all my reasons for thinking so—he made use of some very bad language to me upon his first coming to our house—he had told me that he would give me a month in advance, consequently when he came I expected it; and he said, "I shall not give you a month in advance, I shall only give you a week, I may not be here but a week"—I said, "If I had known that, I should not have let you the lodging; you engaged to give me a month"—he said, "I shan't do it"—I said, "You are going from your word"—he looked round the room in a very strange way, turned down the bed, looked into the washhand basin and jug, and all the places; and I said to him, "I don't understand you, I don't think you are altogether right, I had much rather you paid a week's lodging and quit"—he turned round to me, and said, "Who the devil are you speaking to, do you know I am a gentleman, I am better than you and your husband, or anybody belonging to you;" that was language that was not called for, and the wild look of his eye convinced me he was not right—he then said he should not go at the week; my husband came up and spoke to him, and desired he would leave immediately—he said he would not go—then he said he would leave at the week, but previously to the week expiring, he came and asked us if we would allow him to remain—my husband said he had no objection if he conducted himself with propriety, and he staid on—still we saw all these strange ways about him up to the period of his leaving—he was very abrupt, and spoke on all occasions very uncivilly indeed—the last time he came in, I asked him if he wanted anything—he said, "Give me a light"—my husband heard him, and said he would not allow him to speak so to me, and he went up and told him to suit himself with a lodging—he said he would not go at the week, not till two days over the week: we allowed him to remain till then, and then he left the house quietly—he had a little dog that he brought into the lodging, and he used to keep it in the cupboard where he kept his food; he kept it there at night, and he appeared to be a very clean young man, and I thought that was not the action of a person in his mind; he would put it on the shelf, and it slept there—I do not remember what the indirect answer was which he made to me after speaking to him three times—I spoke to him several times, and on different matters that he wished to have done, and he would never answer correctly, he would humph and hah—I think I have stated all that I observed.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You said something about his looking into the basin, and other articles in the room; did he give any reason for doing that? A. He said the water was dirty—it was not dirty, because I had cleansed the utensils myself—he looked into all the places in the room—they were not many, because it was not a large room—he gave the same

reason for that—he was very uncivil to me—we were very glad to get rid of him, because we always considered Mm as not right in his mind.

MART HUME . The prisoner came to lodge at my house on 5th Feb., last year—I noticed his conduct during the time he was there—he had very peculiar strange ways about him—he used to have such strange ways with cooking his victuals, and he locked himself in—I used to light his fire, and after I had done so he used to poke it out again—he did it four times in one afternoon—I do not remember whether the weather was cold or not at that time—he desired me to light it again; four times I went up—one night I went up, and he was in a very bad way—whether it was a fit, or what it was, I could not say, but he was lashing cold water about his head; the window was thrown open to the very top, and all the doors were open—he was walking up and down a large room, which did not belong to him—I asked him what was the matter—he said he could not tell; he thought he was going to be strangled—his handkerchief was off his neck, and all his clothes, except his trowsers—his shirt was on—he seemed to look very strange, and to think that something was going to come over him—I observed his eyes—they used sometimes to look very small, and his features would be'quite altered, and at other times he was more calm and composed—it was by candle light that I saw him on the night I speak of—I asked him if he would have any medicine—he told me he always kept medicine by him—I said, "Then you had better have a drop of brandy"—I went down stairs to get it; and when I came back with it, he had locked the door, and locked himself in—I knocked at the door as hard as I could, thinking he was perhaps in a fit, or something, and he would not answer; so I went down stairs, and saw no more of him that night—I do not recollect whether it was that night that I heard him out of bed, or not—it was his own room that he locked himself in—I inquired of him the next day how he was, and he seemed to shove off the story—he did not seem to like to answer anything about it—he did not say much about it—it was merely as he was going through the passage that we inquired how he was that morning, if he was well again, and he muttered something, I could not tell what—he seemed not to be pleased to answer us—I once saw a pistol in his bed, under his pillow—I do not know whether it was loaded or not—I had gone up to make his bed—he was down stairs at breakfast—I happened to lift the I pillow, and saw the pistol—I did not go near it, but went down, and asked him if it was loaded—he said, what was that to me, because it would not hurt me if it was—I said I would not give it the chance, for, until he went up and removed it, I should do nothing to his room—he went up and removed it, and put it into a cupboard, and I never saw it afterwards—sometimes he would take no notice of what was said to him—one morning, in particular, he came down to breakfast, and the cloth was on the table from 10 till 12 o'clock, and he sat, looking at a book, but never speaking—I came down, and said, "Don'tyou want any breakfast to-day?—he never answered me—I said "Are you well, or not?" and he turned round, and asked me what I was asking him that for—I said. "Because when people are not well they can't eat"—he turned about to me very abruptly, and said, was it anything peculiar to me that he was not taking any breakfast—I said, "Oh, no, not the least"—so I took the doth off the table, and he went up stairs.

Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. You thought it very peculiar that a person should not eat his breakfast? A. Yes, I did, because he did not complain of illness—he looked very strange in the face that morning—there

was a peculiar look about him—he had a book, and was sitting before the fire, and never troubled his head about the breakfast—the table was waiting for him, with his breakfast—he always brought down his own victuals—he was very particular in his victuals—he always did everything in his own place—I live at No. 2, Coburg-street—he was there from 5th Feb. until April—he would boil his tea in a little tin pot, and coffee and everything in the same concern, not at the same time, coffee at one time, and tea at another—he used always to bring in his victuals at night, and make us cook them—we used to cook them up stairs at night, and he used to keep them in his room—he brought in his bread and butter, and whatever he wanted—we did not supply him with any of his victuals—they remained in his cupboard until they were finished—I know that he poked the fire out four times on one occasion, because I heard him, and I told him of it at the time—all the remark he made was that his fire would not light, and he wanted to lay me a sovereign that it would not light—he never called to as on any occasion, when he wanted anything, he always came out on the landing with his stick, and knocked, and called, "Hoy!"—that was his signal—I took up wood and firing four times that afternoon—on each occasion the fire seemed as if it had been poked out, the pieces of wood were lying in the fireplace—I do not think it was above an hour, from the first time I lighted it to the last.

ARCHIBALD HUME . I am the husband of the last witness. The prisoner's conduct was very singular indeed from the time of his coining into the house—he told me that the reason he was going to leave our house was, that he wanted a larger room to hatch chickens by steam, he thought he could make a very good living by it.

Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. Did you ever hear that chickens were hatched by steam? A. I have heard of such things, but I never saw it—I think it is a possible thing.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. And that a good fortune may be made by it? A. No, I doubt that.

MART EDWARDS . I live in Oxford-terrace, Caledonian-road. The prisoner lodged with me at the end of April and the beginning of May last for three weeks—his manners were very eccentric—the room he took was a small room, not a large one—he did not attempt to hatch any chickens there—he left because he said the distance was too far—we supposed he was about taking a situation.

JOHN CREECH . In Sept last I lived with my mother, at No. 94, Lissongrove. I had previous to that time been one of the attendants at Grovehall Lunatic Asylum—whilst I was living with my mother, the prisoner came to lodge there—I think he came in April, and he remained about five months—the greater portion of the time he slept in the next room to me—I frequently used to bear him talking very much in the night, and sometimes he would appear to be shouting out to somebody—I have heard him say sometimes very bitterly, "No, d—you, you shan't do it," and that sort of thing—that was sometimes at 12 or 1 o'clock in the night—it disturbed me very much, and I used to notice it—I got used to it, I had been used to it long before—I cannot say that it was every night, but it was very frequently—I have often conversed with him—sometimes he would speak very rationally, at other times perhaps in the midst of his conversation he would break off in a very strange sort of manner—sometimes he would not answer at all—I have frequently gone in, and he would not speak to me at all—he seemed quite lost, and would take no notice—I have sometimes noticed

that he has looked very wild—I was five months at Grove-hall Asylum—there were about 140 patients there—I thought at first that the prisoner was rather eccentric, and hearing these sort of things I said to my mother that I thought he was not exactly right—I think he was at times in his right mind, but I do not think he was always—I have gone into his room, and found him lying about on the floor and on the bed, apparently quite lost, lying straight down, as though he had thrown himself down in a languid sort of manner, but quite lost, as if he was deep in thought—I have on those occasions perhaps made an observation, such as "Good morning," or "Good evening," as the case might be, but he has never answered me—he was not asleep, but he did not move or seem to take the least notice.

Cross-examined by MR. CLABKSON. Q. Who is the proprietor of this establishment that you belonged to? A. Mr. Byas—I am not there now—I left there about March last—I was there about five months—I left because I was not at all adapted for that sort of thing—it did not suit me—I did not like it—the doctor said he thought I had better get something else, he thought it was a situation that did not suit me—I merely went there on trial, but I stopped five months, and was then discharged, not being adapted for the situation—I was not at the asylum at the time the prisoner lodged with my mother—I thought his conduct altogether very strange, at one time being very civil and social, at other times not speaking, his being so lost, and his talking of a night, and going on in that peculiar manner—I think it was the earlier part of the time that he talked in the night—I do not know whether he used to receive letters—he never talked to me about his lawsuit—I never heard him talk about it or about his property—he seemed to be speaking in the night as though conversing with some one—I do not know what he said—I could merely hear his voice as though he was speaking, and then he shouted out in a loud voice, "No, d——you, you shan't; I will see that you don't; I will take care that you don't; I will prevent you doing it," something to that effect—I could hear that because he shouted it out in a very loud voice.

MART SKEET . I was servant to Mrs. Williams, of No. 51, Bingfield-street, Caledonian-road. The prisoner lodged there from the 10th to the 30th Sept.—the first night that he frightened me, he called through the keyhole, "I am in the dark, bring me a light," and he had a light all the time in his room—I had given him one, and I saw that he had a light after he called that out—one night he rang the bell very hard—I went up to him, and he had a large sheet of paper in his hands, on fire, and went to the window with it—lie said, "Go into the next room a little while, I don't feel very well"—he was all undressed but his trowsers—he opened the window, and called out, "Hoy!"—I saw that the toilet cover on the table was on fire; I went down stairs and went out into the street, and went over to Mrs. Lilly white, and when I came back again he was dressed, and out on the pavement, looking up at his window—he said, "Was there no one in the house but you?"—I said, "Yes, sir, but I went to Mrs. Lilly white's to see if mistress was there, as a lady wanted her"—next morning he said to me, "I called you last night; it was very dangerous; I might have set the place on fire; I was burning the evil spirit out of the room"—he had a pair of glass candlesticks on his mantelpiece, and one night, as I was giving him a light, he said, "Bring me up a brass candlestick, for I have smashed one of the others"—he said he was in a fit, or something, and he could not sleep in that room another night if you were to give him 1,000l., for it was haunted—we

changed him into the next room, and he stayed there a week—during the time he was there, he ran up and down stairs very much indeed—I did not hear him say anything while he was doing so—he said he had blue veins all over his face—that was one day when he came down stairs—he used to frighten me very much, and he seemed very strange.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. What time was it when you gave him the light? A. Between 6 and 7 o'clock—I gave him a candle in a candlestick; I think there was about half a candle—I did not take him another light when he asked for it—I do not know whether he used all his candle that night—he used to go up stairs to his room to read—he put out the toilet cover that was on fire, all the edges were burnt, and up one side—it was the next morning that he spoke of burning the evil spirit out of the room—that was all he said—I came down stain then—he did not appear to be laughing when he said that—I did not laugh.

DAVID GREEN . I live at No. 16, Catherine-street, Caledonian-road. In the beginning of Oct., 1855, the prisoner came to lodge with ma—he remained one month—his general demeanour was very eccentric indeed—when he wanted his room to be done, instead of mentioning any time at which he wished it done, he used to unlock my parlour door, and go in and sit down; and, on one occasion, I went in and spoke to him about it, and he merely said he wanted his room done—I told him I could not allow him to sit down in my parlour without my permission—that was one instance.

MARY ANN LINSTEAD . I live in Charles-street, Trevor-square. The prisoner came to reside there on Monday, 5th Nov. last—he remained till the following Monday—he left because he complained that the room smoked—it did smoke—I frequently heard him in his room at night as if he was knocking things about the room—I heard him two or three nights, in the middle of the night, when I awoke—he never closed his door very early—I heard this after he had dosed his door—I heard him talking a little—I remember one evening seeing him on the landing with a handkerchief round his neck; he had got it very tight round his throat, his face looked rather discoloured, and with great difficulty I undid the handkerchief, then unbuttoned his collar, and I gave him some water—he said he was ill, he thought he was going to have a fit, and I perceived his handkerchief to be very tight—he was on the landing—he made a noise in his throat when he drank the water—his handkerchief was tied in a tight knot—I have every reason to believe it must have been pulled very tight, it was with great difficulty I undid it—it could not have fallen into a knot out of a bow, it was tied—after I had untied it, he went into his own room, and I went down stairs, and in a few minutes after he walked up and down the garden, and then he came in by the back door—I heard the door make a noise as if he had gone back against the door, and I took the candle and came out, and he was then standing on the top of the stairs with his handkerchief tied round again—I undid it again for him—he said he was very ill, he looked very wild about the eyes—it was tied quite as tight as it had been before, I had very great difficulty in undoing it—I have seen him standing on the steps of the stairs about twice, quite lost in thought—shortly before he left, I cooked a mutton chop for him, and took it up to him, and he cut it in pieces, and took it out in the garden, and walked about eating it—it was raining at the time—he had no umbrella, he walked about without his hat on, eating the chop.

Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. Had he a plate with him, or was he holding it in his hand? A. He had a plate, he was eating it with his

fingers out of the plate—this was one Friday in Nov.—he left on the Monday following—that was the only occasion on which he ate his dinner in the garden—it was about 6 o'clock in the evening that I saw him with the handkerchief tied round his neck—it was dark then—he had a light in his room—I occupied the adjoining room to his—he never used to call anybody by their name, when he wanted anything he used to say, "Hoy!?—he did not halloo then—he made some sort of noise with his feet, and I came out of my room to him—he said he was very ill, and he thought he was going to have a fit—that was before I untied his handkerchief—he spoke to me before I untied it—he said that, and then I untied it—it frightened me so that I did not ask him how he came to tie it so tight—the second time, when he found I could not undo it, he said, "You may cut it if you like"—I said, "It is a nice handkerchief I will try and undo it," and I did undo it with great difficulty—altogether, he seemed very strange, I did not like to stop in the room so close to him—I said, "I hope you will not do so again"—he made no answer, but walked away—he never made you any answer if you asked him a question.

REBECCA PHILLIPS . I live at No. 23, Kaphael-street, Trevor-square. The prisoner came to lodge with me on 12th Nov., and remained till 28th Dec.—he was very eccentric in his ways—he talked to himself very much and very loud, so that I often used to hear what he was talking about—one day I heard a great noise of scuffling in his room with the fire irons and fender, as if he was fighting with some person—I thought he had some one in the room; I heard him say, "Oh! I have got you now, have I; I thought I should catch you"—I was in my front parlour, and he was in the back parlour—I did not go in to him—I found out afterwards thai he was by himself—a few minutes afterwards, I heard him say, "I shall set the place on fire presently"—next morning when I went into the room, I noticed that my toilet covers were lying on the floor, and I picked them up, and examined them, and saw that the corner of one of them was very much burnt, both of them were burnt, and the counterpane also—he went out in the morning as usual, before I saw him—in the evening he knocked at my door, and said he was ill—I asked what was the matter, he said he had had a fit; he had a basin three parts full of cold water in his hand, and he was bathing his fece—I asked if he was subject to fits—he said yes, he was—my husband asked if he should get him a doctor—he said he did not know of one—my husband asked if he would allow him to take him to a doctor—he said he thought he should like to go to a doctor—he said he was subject to these fits, and if I ever found him in one, I was to put his head in a pail of cold water—he said that from nine years of age he had always been ill every Friday—I observed a wildness about his appearance—we thought it was not a fit, we thought he looked very wild—I observed this sort of conduct very much during the time he was with me.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. What did he say about putting his head into cold water, and a doctor? A. He said he would go to a doctor—my husband took him to Dr. Beeber, in the Brompton-road—he gave him a little medicine; the prisoner told me if I ever saw him in a fit, I was not to let him die, but I was to put his head into a pail of cold water, and call in some doctor, and not let him be lost for the want of a doctor—I did not name the burnt counterpane to him, he looked so wild and desponding, and he was going to leave so shortly—my husband said to him, "You had something of a fit last night, had you not?"—he said, "Oh, no! it is all right" my husband said, "I heard you making a great scuffle, I thought, perhaps,

you had a fit, as you have been subject to them since you were nine years of age"—he said, "Oh, no! it was nothing of that"—he said nothing more; we wanted to know what it was, but he was so very strange in his manner we did not name it again, as he was going to leave—I think he was in the habit of reading in bed—I used to observe a light in his room very late; I cannot say whether he was up or in bed—bis habit was to be in his room very early, but whether he went to bed or not I do not know—I used often to hear him putting up the shutters at 2 o'clock in the morning, or 12 o'clock at night—one night about half past 12 o'clock, he knocked at the foldingdoors between my room and his, and asked me to call him at 8 o'clock in the morning—we had been in bed for some hours, and I thought he had been also—he was very irrational—I really thought he was not quite right in his mind—all his ways were not like other gentlemen that I had been used to—he was very strange in all his manners, in every way—I used often to see him sitting over the fire with his hands on his knees, and I would knock at the door three or four times before he would answer me; and I have heard him say inside, "What the devil does she want here, I wonder?"—once when I spoke rather loud to him, because he did not answer after I had spoken once or twice, he was in such a desponding state, he said, "I am rather deaf," but at another time I observed that he was not deaf—he heard me at some times better than at others—I used often to hear him talk to himself very much—he used to say, "I will give it to him; he shall have it; I have put up with it long enough; I won't put up with it any longer; I won't stand it any longer"—he used to talk like that very frequently, but I could not hear every word distinctly—I often heard him mumbling and talking to himself night and day; if ever I awoke, I used always to hear him talking to himself—I think I have told you all that I recollect hearing him say.

FRANCIS HAYES re-examined. I did not search the prisoner, I was close to him when he was searched—there were two halves of two notes given up to the prisoner's brother by order of the Magistrate—they are not here, I have the numbers of them—I inquired of the prisoner where the other halves were—he refused to tell me—I got some information, and went to a place and did not find them—the No. of the 10l. note is, J. K., 20,675; dated Nov. 5th, 1855; and of the 5l. note, J. L., No. 11,308; dated Dec., 1855.

THOMAS HOOPER . I am a Manchester warehouseman, in Friday-street—I know the prisoner—in consequence of some communication I received, I went to George-alley, Thames-street—I there found a small paper parcel—it was in a portion of the building of the house, between the brick and a piece of the story post that runs up the building—I do not know who the premises belonged to—I have the parcel, it contains the two. halves of a 5l. and 10l. note—they have not been out of my possession, they were wrapped up in a small piece of paper, and tied up with a piece of cotton—the Nos. are 20,675, and 11,308; one for 10l., and the other for 5l.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Have you known the prisoner for any length of time? A. I first became acquainted with him about twelve years since—he has called on me within the last two years—I lived at Wellington, where his father lived—I am not one of the friends of the family—I only knew him as an acquaintance, I do not know the family.

Q. Have you ever observed anything that you considered to be irrational about him? A. He has called at my place of business, and asked me if I could assist him to a situation, and I told him I thought he had sufficient means not to go into one, but to live without—he said he should have sufficient

property, but he had a rogue of a lawyer to do with, that had cajoled him out of his property, and that was the reason he wanted to get a berth—he did not mention the name of the lawyer—this was about six months since, as near as I can remember—that was all that passed between us on that occasion—I have not seen him since, except, I think, I passed him one night in the Gray's Inn-road, but I am not positive—I think the first time he called xipon me in London was somewhere about twelve or eighteen months since—I had no conversation with him then on the subject of his affairs, he merely called to say "How do you do?"—in fact, I met him in the street, before he called at the warehouse, and told him where I was living, and that was the reason he called—it was about eighteen months afterwards that he called—he did not spend the afternoon with me, only about five minutes, just came in, and said "How do you do?"—I had not an opportunity of observing much about him at that time, I did not discern anything very particular—I observed that he appeared very excited when he spoke about the solicitor doing him out of his property.

Q. But when upon any other subject of conversation, from that eighteen months down to the present time, have you observed anything about him to lead you to the conclusion that he was insane? A. I have not been in his company at all, only on those two occasions—that was all I observed of excitement about him—I had been to the house before where I found these half notes—I went on Monday last, near the spot—that was before I found them—I went there from a communication the prisoner made to me in Newgate; he gave me to understand that the two half notes were deposited near there—I found them on Tuesday afternoon, the day before yesterday—I saw the prisoner again in Newgate on Tuesday, and an officer accompanied me to the spot that he then gave me fresh instructions about—he said, "If you go near Ducksfoot-lane, you will find in a crevice in the wall, in an iron shoot, a piece of paper with the two half notes wrapped up"—it was in consequence of what he told me that I found the half notes—he told me he had placed them there—he did not say when, I did not ask him, because it was no business of mine to ask the question, I did not think it of sufficient consequence—I went to Newgate to see him from a note that he sent me—this is it (producing it)—I believe I have stated all that passed between us on the subject—I was not told on the Monday or Tuesday that I was to be a witness, I was on Wednesday—the prisoner's brother told me he thought I should be required; and I saw Mr. Lewis, the prisoner's solicitor, yesterday, and he said my attendance would be required here to day—(Letter read: "Newgate, Monday morning. Mr. Hooper,—Call and see me if you possibly can any time before 4 o'clock to day, as I have something to say to you. Do not speak about it if you call. From yours truly, CHARLES WESTRON.")—This was in a public thoroughfare—I got my knife and took it out from the crevice.

THOMAS RODDER . I am a solicitor, and reside at Wellington, in the county of Somerset—that is the place the prisoner comes from—I have known him from a child, and his family well—his father was never confined in a lunatic asylum, but he cut his throat, from which he died; he committed suicide—I administered to his estate and effects as one of his creditors, and in consequence of that, I was one of the parties to the Chancery suit which relates to this unhappy question—Mr. Waugh was my town solicitor, he behaved most kindly to the family, in fact, he was the real means of getting the estates for them—the prisoner must have known that—I have known the prisoner from a child, he was always of a morbid disposition, a sullen temper—the last time I saw him before now, was at Tiverton, Mr. Waugh

advertised the estates to be sold there, and he came down—I was present on that occasion—his manner and demeanour then was most sullen; he would not say anything—he appeared to be in a sulky disposition and temper altogether—that was about six months ago—I knew an uncle of his, his father's brother, Mr. Robert Westron—I believe he committed suicide, but I only know it from hearsay—no doubt there is a considerable amount of insanity in the family—Mr. Waugh was one of the kindest friends they ever had, he completely took up their cause altogether—they would not have had any one to have done it if it had not been for Mr. Waugh.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. I suppose the estate had been foreclosed, had it not? A. No—Mr. Westron married, and his wife's father left these estates in the parish of Ashbrettle, giving a power of appointment to Mr. Westron and his wife during their joint lives; and, in the event of that not taking place, a power of appointment to the survivor; Mr. Westron survived his wife, and he appointed to his eldest daughter, and subsequently he appointed the estate to her in tail; they then suffered a common recovery, and she made a will, and gave the estate to Mr. Westron; so he got the fee; and then he mortgaged the property, I think for 4,000l.—the estate was not encumbered at the time; it was to be sold at Tiverton—it was settled at that time—I believe the prisoner objected to the upset price at which the estate was to be sold—I do not think I heard him say anything about it at that time; I was in conversation with Mr. Waugh; in fact, he scarcely said anything; he sat sulky—I do not know what passed between him and Mr. Waugh.

JOHN WELCH . I am a surgeon, and live at No. 3, Devonshire-place. I knew Mr. Robert Westron, of the firm, of Westron and Dignam, warehousemen—he was the brother of the prisoner's father—for upwards of the last twelve months of his life he was under restraint, and for three days before his death he was in Dr. Still well's private asylum—he hung himself there.

FREDERICK WESTRON . I am a brother of the prisoner. I knew Harriet Westron, my father's sister—she died in a lunatic asylum at Brompton—she had been confined there some time.

FARNHAM FLOWER . I am in the medical profession. Three years ago I was called in to attend the prisoner—he was then living at Park-hill, in Somersetshire, with his brother in law—it was a difficult matter to say what was the matter with him, in as much as, from his extreme peculiarity, I could not get any rational reply to the questions I put to him—he was evidently suffering under considerable mental disturbance at the time—if I asked him a question to get at his ailment, his replies were so perfectly irrelevant that I could not at all satisfy myself as to the precise nature of his disease—I had no question at all that his mind was affected at that time—the opinion I then formed was that he was evidently suffering from mental aberration—I have not had much to do with the treatment of lunatics, not more than falls to the ordinary lot of men in general practice—I have not been attached to any institution at all—I have been in Court to-day.

Q. You have heard the history of his career for the last two years given in Court to-day; taking that into consideration, with what you observed of him, have you formed any opinion of the state of his mind at the time this act was committed? A. It is only confirmatory of the opinion I had formed, that he was not in a sound state—may I state that, upon returning after visiting him a few times, I communicated to my partner the opinion

I had formed at the time—I was not at all surprised at the act he committed.

Q. From the evidence you have heard to-day, and the opportunity you had of observing him upon the occasions when you visited him, do you think he knew the nature and quality of the act he was doing? A. That I cannot say—I have seen nothing of him since the period I have referred to, two or three years since—assuming everything that has been proved to-day to be well founded in fact, I should not think he was conscious of the difference between right and wrong—I should not imagine, from the state in which I saw him two years ago, if he was not improved in his mind, that he could be cognizant of what was right and wrong—if the evidence I have heard to-day be true, I should certainly say his mind was not better—at the time I saw him, I should say he could not understand the difference between right and wrong.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you treat him on that occasion? A. I did, in the way that struck me as the best—in the first place, I endeavoured to set the secretions which were wrong, right; I mean, to act on the stomach, by giving-him aperients and such medicine as I thought necessary—I cannot charge my memory with the exact medicines I gave him—I gave him a dose of calomel and a black draught, and I pursued that system as long as I thought necessary—I cannot say for how long, for I had no expectation of being called upon; perhaps for a fortnight or three weeks—that is about two or three years ago—I have not seen anything of him since—I treated him for derangement of his general health, evidencing itself in a disturbed state of his mind—I treated him as any person would have done, I suppose, if he had been in an asylum.

Q. What were the circumstances from which you concluded that his mind was disturbed? A. When I asked him any question as to his state, his replies were as irrelevant as possible—if I asked him how his secretions were, he would answer in some very indifferent way, he would not confine himself to that—I cannot recollect what he did say, it is too long ago, I am only speaking of the general facts of the case—he was living with his brother in law at that time—he was not under restraint—he was in bed—he has not been under restraint since, that I know of, but I was impressed at the time mth the necessity of his being so—I did not tell that to his brother in law—I have several times referred to the fact since, and said, "I am sure your brother is insane, he was insane when I saw him"—I told his brother in law that, when I heard of the unfortunate event that has placed him where he is—I have referred to it before that, but never spoke so strongly—I did not hear what the letters were exactly that have been read—I heard one of the witnesses state that he appeared to be very much excited when he spoke of having been done by a rogue of a lawyer—that does not produce any effect upon my mind, or alter my opinion in any way—it does not occur to me as furnishing any motive on his part for this act, none whatever—I have known nothing of him since the period I have referred to, nor am I acquainted with his antecedents—I have not seen him in Newgate.

Q. Do you mean seriously to say that you think the circumstances you have heard stated, and what occurred when you saw him three years ago, will justify you in saying that in your, opinion he was not aware that he was guilty of any infraction of the law when'he shot Mr. Waugh? A. That is asking me a question perhaps which I should be hardly expected to

answer 90 unequivocally as you put it—I am further convinced, from the evidence I have heard, that his mind has not improved since I saw him in Somersetshire—I did at that time consider him in a state not cognizant of tight and wrong—I do not know that he would not know it was wrong to kill a man—I was not surprised at this at all—he evidenced a very disturbed state of mind, such as that I inferred from it that he was incapable of judging right from wrong—I inferred it from the circumstances I have named, his irrelevant answers, and sometimes, in reply to my question, he would put a question to me, but expressed in language of a very incoherent character, such as no one could understand—I cannot now recollect the questions he put to me—I am speaking of the impression upon my mind at that time.

COURT. Q. Do you say you are of opinion, from what you saw of him at that time, that he would be incapable of knowing that it would be wrong to kill a man? A. I would infer that he was in a state not to be at large—as to his knowing whether it would be wrong to kill a man, that is a question which it is very difficult to answer—it is next to impossible that any individual can speak of a person as incapable of knowing that killing another is wrong—I can only say that his mind was in a disturbed state, and in such a state that he ought to have been placed under confinement.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You say you did not inform his brother in law, but I believe you informed your partner? A. I did.

ROBERT SYNNOT, ESQ ., M. D. I live at No. 16, Eaton-terrace. I have had a considerable amount of experience with lunatics, and in insane cases, for some years past—I have attended Dr. Sutherland's establishment, and been under his instructions, and acted with him for a considerable period—I have seen the prisoner—I had a short interview with him in Newgate yesterday evening, in the presence of the surgeon of the gaol—I had never seen him before—it was only a short interview, I should have preferred a longer one—I was able, from the length of time I was with him, to form a judgment—I formed the opinion, that there was a very great deficiency of mind about him—in arriving at a conclusion as to the sanity or insanity of a person, the state of mind of the father and collateral relations is a most important feature—I have heard the evidence that has been given on the subject of his father, his uncle, and one of his aunts, and I have also heard the evidence that has been given throughout the whole of this case—if all the facts deposed to by the witnesses be true, I think the prisoner was not able to distinguish right from wrong at the time he committed the act in question.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you mean to say that you think he was not aware that killing a man was wrong? A. I do not say that, but I say I do not think him conscious of the moral guilt he was about, to commit—I do not think he was aware of the enormity of the act he was about doing—I do not say that he did not know that the act of killing a man was wrong, many lunatics do—many lunatics know that such an act would be wrong—I do not say that I believe him to be among them; I think not—I do not think him capable of judging whether he was acting right or wrong—I did not hear the letters, with the exception of the letter written about the two notes, that was the only letter I heard—I do not form any judgment at all from that—I never recollect a patient treating his delusion jocularly upon any occasion; whatever the delusion may be, they believe it with all their soul—I should consider the expression in the letter

that the life of the man on his right hung upon a puff of smoke, to be a threat that he intended him some injury by means of fire arms—I have heard that he stated to one of the witnesses that he had been cheated of his property by a rogue of a lawyer, and that in giving his account of it he was in a very excited state—I cannot say that that produces any impression upon my mind—he may have made up his mind long ago to destroy Mr. Waugh—I never saw him until last night—I was with him about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—I asked him first after his general health; he made no answer at first; afterwards he said, "Pretty well," or "Pretty good"—I said, "What was your motive for killing Mr. Waugb?"—he said because he had robbed him or plundered him of 800l.; that he had given him a written promise to pay him upon a certain date a sum of 400l., and the money was not paid to him; that he was very anxious to go abroad, but he could not do so, not having this money; that Mr. Wangh knew a great deal too much about him—he then became quite confused in his manner of speaking; in fact, he spoke unintelligibly about certain parties agreeing with certain other parties to do this, and others to do that—those were his expressions, as near as I can recollect—he walked away from me, and returned once or twice, but I could get no further explanation from him than what I have mentioned, that certain parties wanted to do certain acts, and had combined with others to do them; but no further explanation could I get—he did not name the other parties, he mentioned no names, only answered my questions about Mr. Waugh—I asked him many questions, to which he appeared to pay no attention, or as if he did not hear them; at any rate, he took no notice of them—I asked him how long he had made up his mind to shoot Mr. Waugh before he committed the murder—he gave me no answer to that—I asked him how he slept—he said, "Pretty well"—I again came back to his general health, and asked him was it good—he mumbled an answer which I could not catch—I think that was the whole of the conversation, as far as I can recollect—from his manner of answering, and his general appearance, I should have certainly considered him a person of unsound mind—his general appearance was suspicious, indicated by the sudden sidelong look of his eye; extreme suspicion—I think I have now described the symptoms I observed.

Q. Do you mean to tell us, upon the judgment you have formed, upon the oath you have taken, that you are enabled to come to the conclusion, by way of opinion from what you have stated, after his giving you his reasons for shooting Mr. Waugh, that he did not know that killing him was contrary to law, and was wrong? A. From his manner, from the evidence I have heard here from the different witnesses, I have no doubt in coming to the conclusion that he was not conscious of the enormity of the crime he was committing—I think he did not know it was wrong to kill a person—I am prepared to say that, upon my judgment—in the course of my conversation with him the onlv delusion I discovered was that about the 800l.—that was not true, I have heard so in Court—he said to me that he should have had 800l. if it had not been for Mr. Waugh, but he should now only get 400l.—I say that was a delusion—I could not tell then that it was a delusion, but it appears by the evidence to have been so—that, taken with the proof that he was subject to delusions, confirms my opinion that he is not a responsible agent—I think he did not know right from wrong, or that it was wrong to kill a person.

MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You think he did not know right from wrong? A. Yes—I have seen and attended some hundreds of lunatic patients—I

judge very much from appearance and demeanour—it is almost impossible to convey by words the appearance and demeanour of a lunatic patient, nothing but experience will teach it you—it is sometimes difficult to fill up a certificate, even where no doubt exists as to the mental state—you cannot bring forward proof to put down in black and white until you have had many opportunities of examining the patient—if I had had a larger opportunity of seeing the manner and demeanour of the prisoner yesterday, I have no doubt my opinion would have been strengthened, as he had the appearance of a person of unsound mind—I am sure he did not then understand that he had committed a crime, and it would be presumable that he did not know it at the time he committed the act—the tying the neckcloth on two occasions, and talking in his room to imaginary persons, are indications of insanity—the descriptions given of his manner and restlessness generally are strong indications of insanity—I have found in lunatics a most intense earnestness of purpose, and whatever reasoning is applied to show them that they are wrong has no effect whatever—supposing the prisoner to be a lunatic the fact of Mr. Wangh's behaving extremely kind to him and his family would not alter his impressions—when I saw him yesterday, it was in company with Mr. Gibson, the surgeon of the gaol.

COURT. Q. You used the term delusion, is it your opinion that the prisoner was labouring under entire defect of reason, or that he had delusions upon particular subjects only? A. It has been proved by the witnesses that he had delusions upon particular subjects—no madman if mad upon every subject—he has delusions upon certain subjects, but on others his judgment is untouched—in my interview with the prisoner I judged from his manner of speaking that he did not know it was wrong to kill a person—in persons of unsound mind you can never answer for the moment they may take a homicidal or suicidal tendency—it may come on at any moment without previous warning, where clear unsoundness of mind has been first proved—it has been proved by the witnesses that he had delusions, which show a diseased state of mind, and in such a state of mind a homicidal or suicidal tendency may at any moment arise—he entertains delusions on some points, so it is proved in evidence—in some matters his mind may undoubtedly be sane—whether upon those matters he would be capable of distinguishing right from wrong, would depend a great deal upon whether he was labouring under excitement at the time or not—if an excitement was produced, it would render him incapable of judging for the time being, although the matter might not have relation to his delusions.

GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of a strong predisposition to insanity. Aged 25.— DEATH recorded.

NEW COURT.—Thursday, February 7th, 1856.


Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-264
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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264. ANGELO FAMAGALLA , feloniously cutting and womnding William Davidson, with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.

MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.

(The prisoner being a foreigner, the evidence was interpreted to him.)

WILLIAM DAVIDSON . I live at No. 50, Baldwin's-gardens, Gray's Inn-lane. I am a porter—last Saturday night week, about a quarter past 12 o'clock, I was standing at the door of my house, talking to my brother in law, Samuel Goldsmith, and the prisoner came up—he passed by me, turned to the right, and gave my brother in law two blows on the face, muttering something, but what I could not understand—he then backed across the road—it is a narrow street—my brother in law crossed the road to where the prisoner was standing, and asked him what he did that for—I cannot say whether the prisoner made any reply—my brother in law said he would go to fetch a policeman—he went, but he could not find one, and he came back—while he was away, the prisoner had crossed the street, and gone up a court—after my brother in law came back, I saw the prisoner put his hand into his pocket, and I said, "Take care that he don't draw the knife upon you"—immediately after that he drew a knife, and was in the act of making a blow at my brother in law—I rushed in, and took him by the wrist, and he cut me across my wrist with the knife—I laid hold of him, kicked his feet from under him, and threw him on his back—I was cut a second time while he was lying on the ground, and I was trying to wrest the knife out of his hand—I kept him on the ground till an officer came and took him—there had been no quarrel between me and the prisoner, or between my brother in law and the prisoner, that I know of.

COURT. Q. How was the first cut given? A. I tried to stop-his striking my brother in law—I got hold of his arm, and the prisoner struck my wrist, to make me let go.

Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. Did you hear this man whistle as he came out? A. I heard some one whistle, whether it was him or not I cannot say—there was some whistling—there was no jeering, none whatever—I do not know what made the prisoner come to us—there was no crowd nor hooting—he seemed to do this without any provocation—there was no sneering or jeering at him in our sight—I and my brother-in-law were standing at our door—by what I have heard since, this man had got info a quarrel, and took my brother in law for another party.

SAMUEL GOLDSMITH . I live at the same place where William Davidson lives, and am his brother in law; I am a seafaring man, but latterly I have got a situation in London. At a little after 12 o'clock, on that Saturday night, I was standing at the door, talking to him—the prisoner came to me from the opposite side of the way, and struck me on the right cheek, I believe once—he had not said anything previous to that—on his striking me, he crossed over to Garden-court—I went after him, and asked what he had done it for—he said something, but what I could not understand—I went for a policeman, but could not find one—when I returned he was in the same place—I said it was no use having the man locked up—the prisoner then drew a knife at me—my brother in law said, "Mind, he has a knife!"—he made a blow at me—my brother in law stepped in, and received it on his left hand—I helped to keep the prisoner till the policeman came, and he was given into custody.

Cross-examined. Q. Was there any crowd? A. There were some few about the place—the prisoner was thrown down after he struck with the knife—he appeared to be agitated—neither I nor my brother in law gave him any offence—I heard whistling, but whether it was him or not I do not know—I did whistle myself, just to employ myself—I did not whistle just to mock this man—I was imitating the call which I heard on board

ship—we were talking about sea affairs, and I said to my brother in law, "I believe I can imitate the call on board ship to pipe all hands, as well as ever I did."

JOHN HEWITT (police sergeant, G 19). On that night, in consequence of a rattle being sprung, I went to Baldwin's-gardens, and found the prisoner on the ground, held by the two witnesses.

Cross-examined. Q. Was there a crowd? A. There was—I know nothing of the origin of this—it is very thickly inhabited there, and when there is the least disturbance there is a crowd immediately—this knife (produced) was picked up by a militia man—I found the sheath of it in the prisoner's pocket—I believe the prisoner is an Italian sausage maker.

GRIFFITH RICHARD JENKINS . I am house surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn-lane. On that Sunday morning William Davidson was brought in there—I examined his wrist, and found two small wounds, one about an inch and a half long, on the back of the left wrist, and a smaller one on the thumb side—they might have been inflicted by such a knife as this.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY of unlawfully Wounding. Aged 26.— Confined Two Months.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 7th, 1856.


Before Eussett Gurney, Esq., and the Seventh Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-265
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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265. MORGAN DAVIS , maliciously cutting and wounding Sarah Thomas, with intent to do her some grievous bodily harm.

SARAH THOMAS . I am a widow, living at No. 17, Thrawl-street, Spitalfields, the prisoner lodges in the same house. On 2nd Jan. I was in the kitchen with him, and other persons, I think he had been drinking a little, he appeared to know what he was'about—he was making use of most vile expressions—I begged him not to do so, and he called me violent names—I said that if I was a man I would push him out, or kick him out of doors for using such language—he continued to call me names, and went towards the door with a plate in his hand, and a piece of bread and cheese in the other hand, calling me names—I put my hand on him, and pushed him to the door, and he struck me with the plate, but it did not cut me—he then said that he would cut my b——throat, put his hand into his pocket, took out a knife, and cut me across the arm—I screamed, and he put his left hand on my shoulder struggling to cut my throat—I put my arm up to save my throat and my arm was cut, my head then dropped and I cut my nose on the knife—some people came to my help, and I said to a young man, "Look what this old brute has done"—he ran for a policeman, and the prisoner went up the street—I followed him, and he threw the knife away—he said that he had thrown the b——knife away, and the b——s could not find it, but he would cut my b——throat—a policeman came and took him into custody, and I was taken to the London Hospital Prisoner. If she would only state the truth, her hands and arms were

placed from my face to my neck, backwards and forwards; I intended giving the charge first, for my face was all blood where they had scratched me. Witness. I had not scratched him before he cut me, I do not know what I did afterwards as my hand was in his hair.

PATRICK HALLUM . I am a cripple, and get my living by singing in the street—I lodge in this house, and was in the kitchen when the prisoner came in—he had a plate of sprats in one hand, and half a quartern loaf in the other—he said, "Where is the b——fryingpan?" nobody made him any answer—the prosecutrix was sitting smoking a pipe by the fire, and he said, "Come out of the way, you old w——"—a party said that he ought to have his nose pulled for making use of such an expression to an old woman—he used very bad language, and the old lady got up and gave him a shove towards the door—he hit her on the head with the plate, saying, "You old cow, I will do you a kindness," and pulled out a knife, and cut her on the left arm—he found that that did not make her let go of him—she put up her left arm to save her face, and he cut her nose—she fell back, and he went away quickly up the street—I crossed the street and heard something drop, about the middle of the street—I did not lose sight of the prisoner, but gave him in charge, and went back with a policeman to where I heard something drop, and found a knife—the prosecutrix had not scratched him before he used the knife, she merely laid hold of him by the collar—when he struck her on the head with the plate it broke all to pieces.

Prisoner. You said to the old woman, "Go ahead, old woman," encouraging her. Witness. I was not encouraging her to attack you.

JOSEPH HORLEY (policeman, A 412). The prisoner was given into my custody, he was drunk, and bleeding from the face, where he was scratched in a few places—he seemed to know what he was about—the prosecutrix was sober.

HENRY ARUNDELL DAY . I am one of the dressers at the London Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there with an incised wound on her left arm, three inches long, and an inch deep, not quite down to the bone—on the right wrist there was a wound about an inch long, and quarter of an inch deep, and there was a slight cut across the nose—the wound had been inflicted with some violence with a knife.

Prisoner's Defence. All I did was in my own defence; there were three or four men, one was taking my money from me, and taking my victuals away, and being hungry it caused me to get agitated; the old woman came with both hands and began scratching and tearing me; I said, three times, "Why do not you let me go?" and Hallum said, "Go ahead, old woman, give it to him;" she gave me a pull back, and away went the sprats; I had a knife in my pocket, but this knife produced is not the sort of knife to carry in the pocket, as it has no sheath; at the time I had my sprats on the fire, I had the knife in my hand to turn them; and this would not have happened if I had been left alone, but some people like to play on old age; I cooked my sprats, and when I had taken a bite at my bread and butter, I found they were all gone; I was about three sheets in the wind, and pretty well all the house were half and half; my face was all scratched and bleeding, but it has had five weeks to get well since then; my age is sixtysix; I was afraid to open my eyes, though I have only got one, for fear she should tear that out; if a man had an inch of pluck in him he would defend himself; any of you gentlemen would.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Aged 65.— Confined Six Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-266
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesMiscellaneous > sureties

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266. DAVID LLEWELLYN was indicted for ft libel on George Hamilton Verity: also, for a libel on the Rev. Llewellyn Edmunds: to both of which he

PLEADED GUILTY ; and having apologised, was allowed to enter into Ms own recognizances in 100l. to appear and receive judgment when called upon.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-267
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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267. JOHN BROWN , unlawfully assaulting John Carter, and inflicting on him grievous bodily harm.

MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution,

RHODES TILLEY MOULD . I am chief clerk at the Olerkenwell Police Court. I went with Mr. Tyrwhitt to the residence of the deceased, Mr. Carter—the prisoner was present, and heard what he said—he had an opportunity of cross-examining Mr. Carter, and was asked to do so, and if he had any questions to put to him—Mr. Carter was duly sworn—he was apparently in the last stage of existence—(the deposition of John Garter was then read as follow; "I went with a friend to a house in Gray's Inn-lane; we had a quartern of gin; Mr. Brown was there with me from five to ten minutes; we came out, crossed over, and he knocked me'down in the road, he struck me in the month, all my teeth were loosened; in the fall I received the injury in my head; my thigh is bad, but I cannot say how it was done; I am telling the truth; I did not strike Brown before he knocked me down; I do not recollect what it was that made Brown strike me, it was sudden, he struck me with great violence")—the prisoner was then asked if he had any question to put to Carter—he said that he had not, for Carter had spoken the truth.

Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. What time was this? A. Somewhere between 12 and 1 o'clock in the day—the violence had taken place a long time before—Carter was not asked whether he was drunk or sober at the time—the questions were put by the medical gentleman, at the instance of the Magistrate—the man was suffering very much, and evidently dying; this was not at the hospital, but at his private residence—no solicitor was present to defend Brown—he had plenty of time to send for one.

JACOB KING . I am a carver and gilder, of No. 24, Coldbath-square. I did not know Brown or Carter before this night—I have seen Brown several times since at a public house—on Tuesday, 6th Nov., I was at the bar of the Sun Tavern, in Gray's Inn-lane—Brown and Carter came in together, and were drinking together—they remained for an hour and a half to two hours—they went up stairs and came down again to go to the concert—it was about a quarter or 20 minutes past 7 o'clock when they left—they were talking, drinking, and quarrelling about some matter which I did not understand—it was not a serious quarrel, they made it up again, and had another glass of grog, and they quarrelled again, and Brown got up, bade him good night, and went across the road—Carter followed him to go home and fetch something which he had of his, a chair on which Brown sat and smoked his pipe of a night—Brown said that he was going home, which is somewhere in Theobald's-road—Carter was very drunk indeed, and Brown was about half drunk—when they went out Brown went up a step of a gentleman's house opposite, and Carter went after him; they both came down and went towards King's-road, twenty or thirty yards further—Carter got before Brown, to push him back and prevent him going home, and Brown knocked him down—Brown had his arm in a sling; he put his arm up and followed him up with his right hand, struck him in the mouth, knocked him into the road, and there he laid—Brown ran away—it was a very violent blow—Carter

was very drunk; he had laid there insensible, till he was picked up by a policeman, who I sent—Carter did not strike Brown at all—I heard Brown say, "Carter, I bid you good night, I did not think you were this sort of man"—Carter said, "Well, I will follow you home"—Brown said, "Well, if you do, you will find something"—Carter had said something about Eagle-street—he said nothing more than, "This house belongs to me;" or, "The property belongs to me, and I will have it."

Cross-examined. Q. You, of course, were perfectly sober? A. Quite so—I had been in the public house from half past 5 o'clock—I had not drank anything—I took the paper, but did not drink anything—I commenced drinking about 8 o'clock—I was the width of Gray's Inn-lane from the parties when this blow was struck—it was in Gray's Inn-lane that this happened—they were going towards King's-road—I was originally summoned as a witness by Brown—Carter was rather aggravating to Brown about this house and furniture—he was nagling at him in an unpleasant way—he said that Brown's chair belonged to him—it appeared that Brown left the public house for the purpose of avoiding Carter, and I should imagine that he went up the steps to hide himself from Carter—when Carter went up, he did not pull him down—Brown stepped down—I do not know whether Carter took hold of him or not—those steps were twenty or thirty yards from where Carter was struck or pushed down—Carter was dodging Brown, preventing him from going on, and he put his hand on Brown's breast—he was staggering about, very drunk—I can swear that Carter did not strike Brown—I mean he did not lift his fist, and strike him—lie only pushed him, and prevented him from going up the street—Brown pushed him with his hand in the sling first, and then delivered him a blow—I know a man named Champion, he is the landlord of the public house—I did not say to him when I came back to the house, and the matter was fresh on my mind, that it was more like a push than a blow—I never could have said so—Mr. Champion cannot say that I did—he is a very respectable man—if he were to say so, that would not alter my impression—I should think he was telling a deliberate untruth—I did not say that Carter took off his coat, and offered to fight Brown—I was standing, reading the paper in the public, house—there was not room to sit—there was only a little form to sit on, which Brown and Carter occupied—I was looking at them all the time, and at the paper too.

MR. ROBINSON. Q. If he had taken off his coat, should you. have seen it? A. Yes, and I swear he never did.

MARY M'CARTHY . I live at No. 7, Vine-street, and keep a stall at the. corner of the King's-road. I know Brown—I saw him and Carter on the night of 6th Nov., in Gray's Inn-road—I saw Brown hit Carter, and knock him down—I do not know whether it was a violent blow or not, but he lifted up his fist, hit him on the breast, and he fell flat on his back on the pavement—I cannot say whether Carter had struck him, as I had only just come up—I saw Brown hitting Carter at the time, I came up—I had just come up two or three minutes before, and as Brown hit him a cabman. who I have not seen since took Brown away—I did not know the caiman's name, but have seen him several times before, and know the man—I have seen Brown since at different times, but have only spoken to him once—I think that was the week before last.

Cross-examined. Q. Whether Carter struck Brown or no, all you can say is that you cannot tell? A. No—I was not in the public house.

COURT. Q. Had Carter hit Brown in the course of the two or three

minutes that you were there? A. No, he never lifted his hand, but they were standing face to face.

EDMUND HICKS (policeman, G 40). On 6th Nor. I saw Brown and Carter at the Sun, in Gray's Inn-lane—Carter was drank, and Brown was in liquor, but was not so drunk as Carter—it was between 6 and 7 o'clock when I first saw them—I did not see them again till Carter was lying insensible in the road—I picked him up, and found blood running down the side of his face, and a wound on the side of his head about an inch and a half long—there was a good deal of blood.

EDWARD THOMAS FURNIVALL . I am house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Carter was brought there on 6th Nov.—I examined him—he had a severe scalp wound behind the right ear—the pericranium was exposed, and the skull was bare—he had also a bruise by his hip, and a blow on the face—he was in a state of almost insensibility, partially from drink and partially from the effects of the blow—the blow on his head must have been the result of very great violence—I do not think it could have been done by his falling from his own weight—there must have been considerable impetus—he remained in the hospital four weeks all but a day, and went out on his own express wish—he was cautioned before he went out, both by Mr. Lloyd and myself—the probability is that if he had taken great care of himself, and kept under a course of medicine, he might have recovered.

Cross-examined. Q. Supposing a man is very drunk, he falls without any power of resistance, does he not, like an inanimate object? A. Yes—a man who is sober, and falls, struggles against it, and comes down with less heaviness—the deceased might have caught his shoulder or hip, or some prominent part, which would take off the force of the blow—I think he must have fallen against something sharp—he must have been pushed with a great deal of violence—I have been in the hospital four yeas—I have not known of drunken men killing themselves by falling on something sharp—I represent that as impossible, except from falling from a height.

MR. ROBINSON. Q. Do you also form your notion from the appearance of the blow on the face? A. Yes, from his complaining of his teeth—that all assists me in coming to the conclusion that there must have been great violence used.

MR. PARRY. Q. What sort of a man was he? A. A small man, about five feet five or six inches—he was not stouter than the prisoner, he was much about the same height, or an inch shorter, if anything.

HARRIET CARTER . I went with my husband from the hospital whom he left—he died ten days afterwards—the prisoner was the bigger man of the two, he is both stouter and taller.

MR. PARRY called

WILLIAM SWANK . I am a cab proprietor. On 6th Nov. I was at the Blue Lion, Gray's Inn-lane, and saw the defendant and the deceased there, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon—the first thing I saw was Carter come into the yard in liquor with his cab—I live in the yard, and my room looks into it—a short time afterwards Mr. Brown came into the yard, and Carter began swearing and blackguarding him, and wanted to fight him.

THOMAS NEVILLE . I saw Brown and Carter, about 3 o'clock, at the Blue Lion yard, Carter was the worse for liquor—he took his coat off, and offered to fight Mr. Brown, who said, "John, I cannot fight; I do not want to fight"—I took Brown away to the Blue Lion public house, and in a few minutes Carter followed and wanted to fight again—Brown went from one part of the house to another, and Carter wanted him to fight again, and

took his coat off—Brown said, "I do not want to fight, I am an old man"—Carter said, "Let us have a friendly box," and then said, looking at me, "if I could only get a chance"—Brown had his arm in a handkerchief.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was Brown sober in the afternoon? A. He was not, but he wanted to get away from Carter, because Carter would not let him alone.

JOHN BROWN . I am landlord of the Blue Lion. Brown and Carter were there about 4 o'clock on 6th Nov.—I saw Carter take hold of Brown, he pulled off his coat and hat to fight Brown twice, and said that he should like a box with him—Brown refused, and told him to be quiet—he then laid hold of Brown by the collar or waist, pulled him out of the corner, and hurled him violently round the bar, and they both fell on a bench—I interfered, Carter being drunk, and told him I could not allow such conduct in my house—I turned him out, and told him I would lock him up if he did not go away.

Cross-examined. Q. "What do you mean by hurling him round the bar? A. Well, he hurled him four or five yards—Carter, though very drunk, hurled him round twice—I could not call Brown drunk, but Carter was very drunk—I think Brown had his arm bandaged.

JOHN CHAMPION . I keep the Sun tavern, Gray's Inn-lane. On 6th Nov., about 6 o'clock in the evening, Carter and Brown came to the public room together, but there was a private party there, and I requested them not to go in, and they sat down in the bar—I believe they had something to drink—Carter was rather tipsy, and Brown was a little the worse for liquor—they stayed for an hour—Carter called Brown a b——thief, or something of that sort—Brown said, "I have had quite enough of you, I shall leave you if that is your temper"—he got up to go away, and Carter followed him—Mr. King went out to watch them, and in about five minutes he returned, saying that Brown had pushed Carter down, but that it was more of a push than it was of a blow.

Cross-examined. Q. Who paid for the drink? A. I do not know, they were served by my barmaid, who is not here—there were, perhaps, half a dozen people in the bar—I knew Carter and Brown, they both used my house—Brown used no bad language.

SAMUEL ROBINSON . I am ostier to Mr. Ockley, of Little Gray's Inn-lane. On 6th Nov., about half past 6 o'clock, I was at the Sun tavern, and heard Carter calling Brown a b——thief, and other bad language besides—Brown said, "I shall leave you, John," and went away across the street, and up three steps, to keep out of the way—Carter followed him, and went two doors beyond where he was—he then came back, and said, "John, I shall box you"—Brown came down the steps, and Carter hit him on the breast—Brown said, "I cannot put up with this any longer," and put his hand up, which was in a handkerchief, and pushed him away; whether he hit him, or pushed him, I was not close enough to see, but Carter fell down, and I helped him up—Carter was at that time in front of Brown, preventing his going along—some one took hold of him, and led him away; two policemen then came, and I went about my work again.

Cross-examined. Q. How long were you in the house with Carter and Brown? A. About ten minutes—I was drinking—Brown and Carter were drinking, but not together, they each had glasses—I went out to take notice of them after hearing the words—I was going to my work, and it was on my way—I did not speak to Brown—I heard of his being charged, but not at the time—I did not go before the Magistrate—I have seen Brown

two or three times since, going about the place—I have spoken to him about twice since, once was at a public house—the last time I saw him was the day before yesterday, at the Wolf public house, Little Gray's Inn-lane—I had something to drink, but not at his expense—I paid for all that I had, I swear that.

MR. PARRY. Q. Is there any pretence for saying that Mr. Brown has been bribing you to tell a lie by giving you drink? A. No—I have told the truth, nothing but the truth—I saw King go out.

EDWARD TURNER . I am a cab driver, of No. 10, Ship-yard, Temple-bar—I know the defendant, and Carter, and saw them in Gray's Inn-road—Carter was in front of Brown, and he struck Brown first—it was on the breast, and Brown said, "Get away"—he lost his temper, and said, "I cannot put up with it any longer, Jack," and struck him—he first shoved him with the hand that was tied up, and then struck him—I took Brown home.

GEORGE COLEMAN HAMILTON LEWIS . I am the defendant's solicitor, and was present before the Magistrate when he was examined—I had witnesses there to tender on his behalf, but did not call them, I used my discretion—Mr. Tyrwhitt said that there was a case made out for further investigation—the defendant was not only anxious for me to call the witnesses, but was angry that I did not.

GUILTY on 2nd Count.—Judgment Respited.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-268
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

268. LORRI SANTOS , maliciously wounding Juan Antonio.

MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution,

JUAN ANTONIO (through an interpreter). I live at John Williams's, No. 6, Parson-street. On the night of 9th Jan. I went to a house in Wellclosesquare, the prisoner opened the door for me, and I asked for my brother—he told me that he was npt there, and showed fight—I did not want to fight, but did not go back as there were so many round me—the prisoner struck me close to my eye, and I fell down—the next thing that I remember, was finding myself in the hospital.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you go twice to the house? A. Yes—after the first time, I went to Mrs. Nevitt's house in the same court—the prisoner opened the door to me both times, it was not a female—I went there because I thought my brother was staying there with a woman—I do not know many words in English—I did not call a woman who opened the doof to me a black whore, nor did I call her so in Spanish; nor did she in return call me a black son of a bitch—I do not recollect a man named Stewart taking me to Mrs. Nevitt's house—I did not go to the house again and kick the door open—there were some of my countrymen in the court, but they could not get in—the prisoner struck me first, and I returned it—my companions would not go in—they did not rush in, and throw the prisoner on the bed—there were three women there.

CATHERINE WHITE . I am an unfortunate girl, and live at No. 5, Neptune-court, I was standing inside the door that evening, and the prosecutor came and knocked, I do not know who opened the door—he asked for his brother, and they said that his brother was not there—I was standing outside the door of No. 6, close to Antonio—some of them said that his brother was there, and then the prisoner asked him to fight—that was the first I saw of the prisoner—Antonio said that he did not want to fight—he wanted his brother, and one of the girls slammed the door in his face, and called him a black son of a bitch—he slapped at the door again with his foot, which opened it as it was not fastened at all, and the prisoner ran out and struck

him twice, pulled him into the house, and laid him on the bed by violence—Antonio hallooed for his countrymen, and a man named Stewart came in—the prisoner took a black handled knife from the table and struck Antonio three times on the head with it as he laid on the bed—three or four girls were in the room having their supper—I did not see them do anything—I saw blood come from Antonio's head—he fell down on the floor, and his countrymen took him out, and took him into Mother Levitt's.

Cross-examined. Q. Were they all unfortunate girls that were there? A. Yes—I do not know Antonio's brother—I saw him in the court—he stopped with Alice Whitehead, who lived at No. 6, but I cannot tell how long—I saw Alice Whitehead there—there was one of the prosecutor's countrymen in the court, and two of the prisoner's, Portuguese—the prosecutor's countryman was Stewart, he is not here—I was standing at the door, I did not go into the house, but the door was open and I could see into the kitchen—the kitchen is not under the pavement, there are only two rooms in the house—I saw nobody with a poker—I did not see a great many foreigners in the court—I have had no quarrel with the prisoner, or with the girls in his house—I have never been a witness before—they are all bad houses there—I live next door—Mrs. Nevitt's is the same kind of house.

ALBERT TUCKER (policeman, H 40). I took the prisoner, he was quite sober—I took the prosecutor to the hospital and saw the wounds on his head, it was covered with blood—(there is no surgeon here)—there was one wound about an inch long, and another, a quarter of an inch—the surgeon wanted him to remain in the hospital as an indoor patient, but he would not, he wanted to go home with his brother—he had three wounds—the prisoner said that it was not he who did it, but somebody else, he did not know who.

Cross-examined. Q. Is the prisoner a sailor? A. Yes—he does not keep the house—there are nothing but bad houses in the court.

ROBERT LEVITT . I am eight years old, and live with my mother, at No. 10, Neptune-court. I was standing in the court on this night, and saw the black man (Antonio) at the door of No. 6—he asked for his brother, and the prisoner said that he was not there, and then they slammed the door in his face, and he shoved it open with his foot, and went in again; and one of the girls called him a black son of a bitch—he called them a pooter—they began fighting, and the prisoner took a knife off'the table, and went like that, and that, and that (as if stabbing), and then wiped the knife with a piece of paper—I was standing at my own door, but could see their door—Antonio did not strike anybody before these blows were struck—I saw a lot of girls in the room, and one more man, who took no part in the matter—I saw Antonio bleeding very much—one of the girls wiped the knife with a piece of rag when he put it back.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you go to school? A. No, nor to Church—I never read the Bible—the religion I have been taught is to read and to write—I live with my mother, my sister, and another young girl—my sister is seventeen years old, and lives in that house—I was standing at my door, No. 10, which is on the other side of the way, and looks into No. 5—the court is about a yard wide—I was about two yards from where this happened—I saw in at the door—I did not go into the house—I live at home, and do nothing.

MR. PAYNE called

ELIZABETH COLBERT . I live at No. 6, Neptune-court I remember the night the man was struck—it was last Tuesday four weeks—I was with

the prisoner—I know the prosecutor's brother—he slept for seven nights with Alice Whitehead, in the same house that I live in—I dare say it was half past 12 o'clock when Antonio first came to No. 6—I was then sitting close to the fire—Alice Whitehead opened the door to him, and he asked for Francisco, his brother—she said, "You know Your brother no here"—he said "Yes," and looked behind the door—I said, "You know your brother no here for five days"—he called me a black poetar, and I called him a black son of a bitch—a man named Stewart came, and Alice Whitehead took Antonio by the shoulders, shoved him away, shut the door, and put her knee against it—he then went to Mrs. Levitt's house with Stewart, and came back and kicked in the door, and said, "Send any of your Portuguese sons of bitches out again, and I will fight"—the prisoner sat dose by me on the stairs—he crossed to the door, and said, "What do you want?"—Antonio said, "What are you, you Portuguese son of a bitch? I suppose you would like to fight"—I saw no blows, but Jane Filbert pulled the prisoner in—after that they were quarrelling again, but I did not see the prisoner strike him—it was not the prisoner who gave him the wounds; it was myself that done it, when four of his countrymen came and rushed on him—he was underneath the four, and Alice Whitehead and my little sister were in between them; the prisoner was on the bed, and there were four more of his countrymen, in their flannel drawers, came in from the next houses, and Antonio made five—they were all on the prisoner—my little sister was trying to keep his countrymen from him; and if I had not defended him, he would have been killed by the five of them; so I hit him three times across the head with the poker; and Jane Filbert took the poker out of my hand, and then I looked for tike frying pan—Antonio and his companions were not only on the prisoner, but on my little sister, who is turned fourteen years old—one of the Spanish men had one of my chairs in his hand, and one of the servants took it, and took it into another house, or he was going to hit the prisoner with it.

Cross-examined by MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Did not you see Antonio trying to hit the prisoner? A. No; one of his countrymen; the prisoner was sitting on the side of the bed, and the four men in their flannel shirts rushed on top of him, and my little sister laid hold of him and Alice Whitehead—I do not know how many people were in the court—I did not go outside the door—I was in my petticoat, and had no shoes or stockings on—the first time was about half past 12 o'clock, and it was about an hour before the prisoner was taken to Leman-street—there were in the bouse, me, and Alice Whitehead, and one of the prisoner's countrymen, and Alice Connell, and the prisoner—the prisoner had not a knife in his hand, but he had a small shut knife in his pocket; and when he hallooed out for the police, I said, "Lorris, give that to my sister, in case the policemen come, for they might say that you stabbed him with that knife."

Q. If no knife had been used, how could you say that they might say that he was stabbed? A. They might say so because he had that knife in his pocket, and because all the girls in the court hallooed out that he was stabbed—I saw no knife; Jane Pilbert saw it in his hand—there were knives and forks on the table that we were eating our supper with, black handled knives and some white handled knives—there was no fainting—when Antonio was struck over the head, Stewart took him over the way and cut his hair off—I hit him three times as hard as I could—I got a fair blow at him—there were five or six of his countrymen there—I saw them rush into the door together—I saw Antonio on the bed; he was on

the top of the prisoner—it was a small turn up bedstead—there were about nine of them altogether on top of the prisoner—my little sister Kitty and Alice Whithead were taking hold of the prisoner, keeping him back—I did not see whether he struck at the prosecutor—they held the prisoner in case the other five should kill him—there was not a row before the five men came—they all five came running in just as the prisoner had finished his supper, and was sitting on the bed—I know a little boy, Robert Levitt, who lives in the court, but I did not see him; I did not go outside the door—I know Catherine White—I did not see her that evening—the door opens into the room close to the side of the bed—the poker is in the house now.

MR. PAYNE. Q. The man came the first time, and that was all settled, and Stewart took him away? A. Yes; when he came the second time, the other men were at the back of him in their flannel drawers and flannel shirts—I have had no quarrel with the prosecutor—I interfered to prevent the prisoner from being killed—when the prosecutor said that he was cut, Catherine White fetched a policeman, as I was told—I heard her halloo out "Police!" but cannot swear that it was her.

JANE PILBERT . On the night that this matter happened, I was in No. 11 before the row commenced, and then I went across to No. 6, and went in—I saw the prosecutor over the prisoner, who was right underneath, and Alice Whitehead and Elizabeth Colbert's sister, and three or four of his countrymen—Elizabeth Colbert stood near the fire place with a poker in her hand—I said, "Have you any mercy, do you wish to kill the man?"—she struck him three times on the head with the poker—I took it from her—she then took the frying pan, and I got that out of her hand—when she struck Antonio on the head, all the five were on the top of the prisoner.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you remain there long after that? A. Yes, till after they went to the station house—I did not interfere with the prisoner, but after I took the poker out of Elizabeth Colbert's hand, the prisoner was trying to get out, and I stopped him in my arms, and said, "You stop, or you will be killed"—I came in when the row began, the prisoner and two or three girls were at supper—I saw nothing of a knife—I live right opposite there—there were several people in the court at the time, the servants of the five houses, and a girl named Potty, and Mary Sweeney—a little boy named Levitt was alongside his mother's house—when I went in there was a little confusion, as Stewart missed his coat and waistcoat—he had been stopping with the boy's sister, and I saw the boy standing on a box close to the window after the prisoner was taken to the station house—I did not see the prosecutor's head bleeding till after Stewart cut his hair off—that was in Stewart's house—he did not appear to have lost much blood at that time, but he leant his head on his hand—I did not see blood after those blows with the poker were delivered—when the blows were struck, he was trying to make his way towards the prisoner, but there were too many between him and the prisoner—I cannot say that he touched the prisoner on the bed—the prosecutor, after the blows, walked out with Stewart; he was not led or carried.

MR. PAYNE. Q. You interfered for the protection of the prosecutor? A. Yes—Stewart was in company with the little boy's sister at Mrs. Levitt's.

COURT. Q. You were not in the house when the prosecutor came there the second time? A. No, I was in No. 11.

ALICE WHITEHEAD . The prosecutor's brother stayed with me seven

nights—I remember Antonio coming to the house—I was in the house when he came, and I opened the door to him—he asked me if his brother was there; I said, "No"—he said that he was behind the door, and I said, "No" again—he said, "He is up stairs;"—Betsy Colbert said "No"—he called her a black pooler, which means a black w——, and she called him a black son of a b——I put him out at the door, and he went to Nevitt's, and came back without his coat and waistcoat, and knocked at the door several times with his foot, and asked if there was any Portuguese son of a b——there that would come out and fight—the prisoner got up and went out and struck him—they began to fight—I took hold of the prisoner by the blue gown which he had on, and laid myself down on the bed with pulling him back, and four of them came in in their flannel shirts and drawers from the other houses in the court—I did not see what happened—I lay underneath them all until Stewart came in, and one of the men in striking him struck me on the face—I screamed out, and Stewart let me get out—Elizabeth Colbert was behind this man.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Elizabeth Colbert do anything? A. Yes, she hit him with the poker three times—she was standing between the fireplace and the chair—the prosecutor was lying on the bed when she struck him, and the other four men were there too; not all on the bed, it was like at the foot of the bed—the prisoner, and prosecutor, and the women were all struggling—there were only three women in the house besides Betsy Colbert's little sister—me and Betsy Colbert's little sister were laid underneath them, trying to keep them from fighting—I held the prisoner down by his gown, and the prosecutor was on him—I did not see that the prisoner got the prosecutor clown at all—I saw no knife—we were all at supper quite comfortable; we had table knives by—I heard Colbert say afterwards that the prisoner had a large white-handled knife in his hand during the time he was on the bed, but that she did not see him use it.

MR. PAYNE. Q. Had the prosecutor's brother been with you several days? A. He had been in the house with me seven days, but he was not there then—he had not been there for an hour or rather better.

COURT. Q. When was it that Elizabeth Colbert said that she saw him with a white-handled knife in his hand? A. A day or two afterwards—I did not hear her say anything to her little sister about a knife, or to the prisoner.

COURT to ALBERT TUCKER. Q. Where did you take the prisoner? A. At No. 6, Neptune-court—the prosecutor was then standing at the door—he seemed sensible, but said that he had great pain in his head.

(The prisoner received a good character.)

GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Nine Months.

OLD COURT.—Friday, February 8th, and Saturday, February 9th, 1856.


(For the case of Dr. Vaughan, tried on these days, see Surrey Cases.)

NEW COURT.—Friday, February 8th, 1856.


Before Mr. Justice Whiles and the Fifth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-269
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

269. EDMUND SCHEHL and LOUIS SCHEHL , feloniously making and printing 10 undertakings for the payment of 10 thalers, purporting to be part of an undertaking of Frederick William IV. King of Prussia.

MESSRS. BALLANTINE and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.

CARL MORZTZ KUHLMORGEN (through an interpreter). I am a surgical instrument maker, and live at No. 5, Bateman's-buildings, Soho. On 22nd Nov. I saw the prisoners in St. Martin's-lane—nothing particular passed between us, only common conversation—the next morning they asked me if I would recommend them to a lithographer—they did not say for what purpose—I recommended them to Mr. Appel—they went with me to Mr. Appel—they went into a room with him, and I waited in another room—when they came out I heard some words—I heard the younger brother say, "He is a clever man; of him we can learn something: he understands it better than myself, and makes also the paper," and I heard something about the Prussian eagle.

Cross-examined by Mr. PARRY. Q. Did you know the prisoners before? A. I only met them accidentally at an hotel—when they asked for a lithographer, they did not tell me they wished to learn the process, to use it in their own country—it was all done very quickly—they asked about a lithographer—I thought that they themselves were lithographers—one prisoner said to the other, that Mr. Appel was more clever than they were, and that they should learn a good deal from him—I did not see them afterwards.

RUDOLPH APPEL . I am a lithographer, carrying on business in Gerrard-street, Soho, for about seven years—I am patentee of the process called the Anastatic process, for taking impressions on metal from paper—I have been employed on several occasions as an engraver by the Prussian Embassy—the prisoners came to me on 23rd Nov., in company with the last witness—I was at my work in the front office—the prisoners came to me—the witness waited out in another room—some general conversation passed between the prisoners and me, and Edmund showed me a Prussian 10 thaler note—he had just before asked what my business was—I said, "A lithographer," but I did not keep a lithographer in the house; I took originals from other works—he said, "That is just what I want"—he said, "I have a great deal of business"—he then showed me the 10 thaler note, and said, "Can you do that?"—I said, "I can, but I won't do it; I dare not do it"—I saw it was Prussian money—he said, "Don't be foolish, this will pay you better than all the other work which you have"—I said, "Well, I will do it, if you can give me the authority"—he said, "Oh, the authority I can give you," and he showed me his passport, and told me he was a merchant—I did not look at the passport, I only read that he came from Belgium, and was a merchant—he said that he would get the authority from the minister—I said, "Very well; I have no time now, I must go on with my work"—he said, "Well, I won't detain you any longer; I will call again"—when he first showed me the note, there was Edmund alone, and after I consented to do it if he brought me the authority, he said he would bring me the authority, and then he called his brother in, and said, "My brother knows how,

he has done it before," and Louis Schehl told me he had done it before on stone, and he said there was a lithographer in the City who had done it, but he died the week before—Edmund showed me the note, be took it out of his pocket—I did not keep it, he took it away with him—they asked me what time they should call again—I said, "After I have done work, after 7 o'clock in the evening"—they went away, and after they left I made a communication to my foreman and to the Prussian Embassy—when they first came it was between 12 and 1 o'clock—I went to the Embassy between 1 and 2 o'clock—I there saw Mr. Albert—I communicated to him the fact of the prisoners coming to me—in consequence of instructions from the Embassy, I proceeded with the work—about 3 o'clock the same afternoon the Secretary of the Embassy came to my house—the prisoners came to my house in the evening, according to appointment, and a conversation again occurred about the notes—I showed them some specimens of my own work—they both said, "It will do very well"—they then asked if I would do what they wanted, and asked me what time I would commence with the work to do the 10 thaler note—Edmund tendered the note to me—Louis was by—I showed him specimens of notes, cheques, and portions of engravings—he said it would do very well, and if I would print 1,000 copies of the 10 thaler note, he would pay me 500l.—he asked me what time I would commence to do the work—I said, "To-morrow is Saturday; I can't begin then"—I told him it would be on Monday—before they left they gave me a 10 franc piece to begin the work—I would not accept it, and it was left on the table—they said they would bring me the authority, and they went away—they invited me to the corner public house, and I had some pale ale—they both came on Sunday morning—they both spoke about the water mark—they showed me the note again, and said, "If you transfer the note and print them off, we want the paper to have the water mark"—I said, "It is quite a thing out of my line, but no doubt I can do it"—they said, "Well, well, if you will consider about it, and try if you can do it"—we came to an agreement about it—I agreed to do the water mark as well—I did not mention about the authority, but Edmund said that, he would bring it—it was again mentioned that they should want 1,000 copies for 500l.—I can't say whether it was then or afterwards, but he said he would give me 20l. for fifty copies—I cannot recollect how many copies they said they should want in all of the 10 thaler notes, but it was an enormous number—they made an appointment to come the next day, and they went away—on Monday they came again, they then showed me two 10 thaler notes, and in their presence I transferred the fronts and backs of those notes to a zinc plate—the transfer of the two are made at the same moment—this is what I did (looking at the plate), and this print (producing it) was taken off the plate on that occasion—by moving about, the plate has got rubbed, and I cannot see the number of it—they said I should look out for paper which would be similar to that of the genuine note to make the water mark on, and on Monday evening they gave me a sovereign to go on—on Tuesday, the 27th, Mr. Albert, the secretary, called on me with Mr. Mullens, the attorney, and from that time up to the time of the prisoners being taken, I was in communication with Mr. Mullens every day—on that same Tuesday the prisoners came, and in their presence I transferred from the impression I had made the day before—they would have been satisfied with the process, but I was not, because the notes were very much worn—I believe they took away some of what I showed them—what I had left I tore up—they said they would send and have some clean notes sent over

from Germany—they said they would send over to Germany for clean 50 thaler notes—they wanted to have them produced an well—they said they would bring me two clean 10 thaler notes the next day, and if I could get fifty copies done they would pay me 20l.—they came again the next evening, Wednesday, the 28th—during that day I had employed Mr. King, an artist, to trace the water mark, and when the prisoners called they saw Mr. King at work at the water mark—they gave Mr. King some money—they had got two notes, and they said they were the best they could get, but they were very dirty—they said they expected a gentleman over from Germany, and the vessel would arrive the next day, and they would then bring me clean notes—he said, "I have written over to procure from the office a clean 100 thaler note"—they said they should want that transferred and printed—they said they wanted to send the proofs off to Germany—they wrote a letter in my place, one letter, which the boy took himself, they said it was gone over to Triers—they said they expected the person to whom they were writing to come over the next day by the steamer, but he could not come before 3 o'clock, and he would bring them clean notes, and he would bring the money as well, and he would fetch those notes which were done—next day, Thursday, the 29th, they both came in the afternoon, they produced two 10 thaler notes—they were not the same that they had produced on Wednesday—I told him they must be cleaned first, and I laid those notes in solution—they said I should procure some paper to make the water mark on—they saw King at work on the water mark on that Thursday, and all the week—they asked him first of all whether he thought he could manage it, and, as it was in progress, they said they were very much satisfied with it—they came again on Friday—I had made the notes as clean as I could, and in presence of the prisoners and Mr. King I transferred the front and back of a note on this plate (looking at it)—this is the transfer I made—I believe they gave Mr. King on that occasion two sovereigns—they came again on 1st Dec., and were there the whole day—in the afternoon they were pressing the water mark from the water mark plate—this is the water mark plate (looking at it)—I think the water mark plate was complete on Saturday—on Monday, 3rd Dec., the prisoners came and were at my house nearly the whole day again—I cannot remember exactly whether any impression was taken from the second plate in their presence that day—there were proofs taken from the water mark on the Monday, and they said they would do very well, and on that occasion they told me they expected a person by the steamer from Germany, and he could not come before 3 o'clock—on Tuesday, 4th Dec., the prisoners were at my house—they were there pretty nearly from day to day till Monday, the 10th Dec.—on Tuesday, the 4th, the prisoners themselves printed the water marks with their own hands—they took copies on paper—Mr. Slatter was then my foreman—he came in and out—on several other occasions the prisoners brought in other notes, and I made transfers of them—this went on till Monday, 10th Dec.—during that interval they were at my house every day—on Monday, the 10th, they themselves were cutting the paper on which the notes were to be printed, to its proper size—in the middle of that day they went away to dinner, between 1 and 2 o'clock; when they returned, Edmund said to me, in presence of the other prisoner, "Have you got an enemy in your house?"—I said, "I believe not"—he said, "Well, consider about it; I think you have"—I said, "If there is one, it must be my clerk," because I had given him previous notice to leave—he said he thought it was, because he told him that he thought I had told the policeman—I

told him I had not, which was the fact; I had not—Edmund said he was cleverer than the clerk, for he could know what I was doing—they prepared to take the press and the plates to their home, because the clerk did not know where they lived, no more did I—they asked me whether I would lend them the press, to print at home, so that the clerk should not know—they said they would come after 8 o'clock to fetch the press and plates away—that was the press at which they had been working at my place about the water marks—they came after 8 o'clock, and commenced to take the press away with them—they did not take anything else away to my knowledge—Edmund went for a cab, he said, to fetch the press and plates away—while Edmund was gone, the other prisoner remained—he was wrapping up the plates—after he was gone I found the water mark plate and the paper was gone—that was after he was fetched away—he had been wrapping up the Anastatic plates—I had not given him permission to take away the water mark plate and the paper.

Cross-examined. Q. How long has this process of yours been at work? A. Pretty nearly twenty-two years—I have been in this country about eleven years—I worked this process in Berlin, and I came over here with my governor—it was not for any misconduct that I left—certainly not—I was twelve years with my governor—I have never given evidence before, except at Marlborough-street—when the prisoners came to me, I went immediately to the Prussian Embassy—I might have stopped these men by refusing to have anything to do with it—if they were about committing a crime, it was in my power to prevent it as far as I had any concern with it—if they had been evil-minded and criminal, they might have gone elsewhere—I had the power to refuse, and not have been an agent in this business—I have done so before—they have come, but I refused them—there is no reward offered for this—I do not know anything of a reward of 500 thalers that the Prussian Government gives for anybody that detects a fraud upon them—this is all done for the interests of public justice—I would not have come here if they had not told me they had done it before, and to put a stop to it—I have refused a great many cases before—I read the thaler note—there is nothing about a reward upon it—I did not expect to come here—when I said I had not told the police, I was aware the police were watching them from day to day, but I olid not tell them—I meant I had not personally said anything to the police—these men never brought me a clean note—the others were dirty—it was very difficult to take a good transfer from them—the transfers I took I knew they would circulate, but not so well as clean notes—they brought me about six notes—I had the transfers of them all in operation—I kept about seven men at that time—the prisoners came backwards and forwards to my shop—all the men in" my shop knew what was going on from the first moment—the prisoners came pretty well every day, watching the progress, and themselves working at it up stairs, but they were once or twice in the workshop—King worked up stairs, he saw them every day—they used to stay some hours at a time—they treated me to drink at Mr. Bishop's—that was in the evening, it was not in the parlour, before the bar, I used to drink with them—they treated me—they paid King 2l.—I did not borrow that, it was what they gave him—I did not borrow any money from them—I did not borrow 2l. 10s. from them to assist in taking up a bill, not one farthing—the first night they gave me ten francs—the following Monday they left me a sovereign to go on, and on another occasion 19s. 6d.; but I never asked them for a farthing—that was all I, got—I never got a sum of 2l. 10s. from them at all—I can certainly swear that

—I do not know how they came to give me 19s. 6d.—they gave it me—I kept it—I never gave it back again—the Prussian Embassy did not promise to pay me—I do not expect to get anything—I do not expect to get paid by the Prussian Embassy—I do not intend to apply for any—certainly not—it is all done for the love of justice—when the prisoners first came to me, I showed them Bank notes that I had imitated—I did not show them any foreign notes—only English—I showed them bankers' cheques—I said "I can do it if you bring me authority"—as, for instance, from the Bank of England—I have done four notes, and I have done postage stamps—I showed the prisoners those bank notes and cheques, and I showed them impressions, from maps—I did not explain to them" how well it could be done by my process—I showed them these the first evening, after I had been to the Embassy, and said I could do them if they gave me authority—I did not intend that evening to go on without any authority at all, because, in the afternoon, the Secretary from the Prussian Embassy was at my house—I did not I intend to go on to entrap these persons into the commission of the crime—certainly not, I only did it to do good to the public—I did not do it to lead the prisoners on to commit a crime, so that they might be tried and punished—I did it for the public good, not to induce them, and assist them in committing a crime—I did it to put a stop to it, as they told me they had done it previously—I thought I was in duty bound to do as I have done—I produced half a dozen or a dozen cheques and notes to the prisoners, after the Prussian secretary had called on me in the afternoon—they have sent for drink, not in the shop, but upstairs—I never dined or took a meal with them—I did not inquire who the lithographer was that was dead in the city.

MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. You did the work, merely because you were told to do so by the Prussian Embassy? A. Yes—one of the notes that I showed them was done for one million, and generally on the backs was written, "Specimen"—they have sent for something, and I have taken a glass with them—I do Dot expect to get anything from this—they worked upstairs at my place—the workmen saw them going to and fro—my foreman and some of the boys came in—after they have left the place, I have told it to my foreman.

HENRY MONTAGUE KING . I was employed by the last witness in his business. About the end of Nov., I was employed to trace the water mark of a 10 thaler note—I prepared the plates for that purpose—during the time I was at work on these plates the prisoners came to me frequently—they spoke to me about them—the elder one spoke English, not the younger one—the elder one said I should be handsomely paid for anything I did—one night I assisted to pull a proof off one of these plates, and I had half a cro'wn for my trouble—both the prisoners were present when that impression was taken off—after I had finished the water mark plates, the prisoner, Edmund Schehl, gave me 2l.—during the time I was employed they were there constantly—I saw them engaged working at a small press, I believe taking the water mark—on 10th Dec. they were in and out all day—on that day I noticed the water mark impression where they were, upstairs I believe—they came in the evening, and went away and came again—I saw them putting portions of a small press in their pockets—I did not see them take away the papers with the water marks, but I missed them after they had left—I received altogether, 2l. 2s. 6d.

JOHN SLATTER . I am foreman to Mr. Appel—I recollect the prisoners coming on the 23rd Nov.—directly after they left, a communication was

made to me by Mr. Appel—I saw the prisoners during the time they were at Mr. Appel's, working the small press in the first floor—I knew from Mr. Appel what was going on.

GEORGE HODGES (policeman, A 29). I was engaged in this case—I have been watching Mr. Appel's house—I saw the prisoners go there from 26th Nov. till 10th Dec.—they went to No. 6, Featheretone-buildings, Holborn.

JOHN WEARING (police sergeant, C 33). On 5th Dec. I was desired to watch the prisoners—they went from No. 6, Featherstone-buildings, Holborn to St. Katherine's-wharf—they waited on the pier till the arrival of the Ostend steam boat—it was about half past 9 o'clock when they left home, and about 2 o'clock when they left the pier; they saw the whole of the passengers land—they waited till the boat was clear of passengers—they then went directly home to No. 6, Feathepstone-buildings.

JOHANN LANDMESSER . I know the prisoners—I did not go with them on 5th Dec. to St. Katheriue's-wharf—they came after me—they spoke to me, they said they expected an acquaintance who was to come by the Ostend boat—they waited till the boat arrived—their friend did not come.

STEPHEN THORNTON (police inspector, A). On 23rd Nov. I received instructions from Sir Richard Mayne—I followed the prisoners to No. 6, Featherstone-buildings, and between that night and 10th Dec. I was watching the prisoners—I have seen them go to Mr. Appel's on several occasions—on 10th Dec. I took Edmund Schehl into custody in the street, when he came out of Mr. Appel's house—I told him what I wanted him for, but he struggled at the time, and there was great confusion—I held him for some seconds till a second party came up—I searched him, and found on him these nuts, and screws, and this wrench—I afterwards took Louis Schehl at Mr. Appel's house in the first floor—I searched him, and found on him some nuts, and screws, and some of the engravings from the plates, a copy of the notes, and a card of Mr. Appel's—I went to No. 6, Featherstone-buildings—I went into the first floor front room—there was a sideboard, I searched it, and in a drawer in it I found a quantity of water marked paper, corresponding with the plate which was with the paper, and some copies of an original Prussian note, and I found the note itself—I found 102 impressions of the water mark—I found impressions of the front and of the back—I found several letters in the back bed room—I was in private clothes when I apprehended these men—I could not say that the impressions were of this particular note.

ALEXANDER KRATZMANN . I am landlord of the house No. 6, Featherstone-buildings—the prisoners lodged there—they occupied the first floor—the front room and two back rooms—they had kept them about a fortnight—I was present when inspector Thornton searched the room, and found the notes and papers in the sideboard drawer in the room occupied by the prisoners.

Cross-examined. Q. This drawer was open, not locked? A. No—they spoke to me about learning the curious and most wonderful art of printing, in order to carry on something in their own country.

RUDOLPH APPEL re-examined. This note found in the drawer in the sideboard is an original note, from which a transfer has been made on one of these plates—this water mark plate was made at my place, and these impressions were made from it—the value of a thaler is about 3s.—this is a note which I have taken and transferred on the zinc plate, on one of the plates which lias been produced—when I take an impression by this process, I take off the ink from the document on the plate, and use that to receive the ink by which I produce my subsequent impression.

CHARLES ALBERT DEHHICKE (through an interpreter). I am in the service of the Chief Administration for the State Debts at Berlin—the gentlemen are appointed by the King—the names of the King of Prussia are Frederick William the Fourth—I produce a genuine 10 thaler note—I have seen the notes which have been produced in evidence—they are similar to the one which I produce—this plate (looking at one) is an impression of the genuine note—the genuine notes are printed in the printing office of the Government—they are issued from the General Treasury for the expenses of the Government—in that office a 10 thaler note can be exchanged for money immediately—a thaler is worth 3s. in English money.

Cross-examined. Q. Is there any reward by the Prussian Government in case of detecting the forgery of notes? A. Yes, in general there is a reward, but the sum is not fixed—a thaler is a silver coin, and current in Prussia.

CARL PIERRE ROYAL . I live in Coleman-street—I am a professor and translator of languages—I am perfectly acquainted with the language of Germany, just as well as my native tongue—I have a translation of a 10 thaler note; it was made by another person—I have compared it. (reads: "Royal Prussian Treasury note, 10 thalers currency, according to the standard of 1764; Berlin, Nov. 11, the Chief Administrator of the State Debt Whoever by themselves or other Treasury bills shall imitate or forge, or of imitated and forged bills shall procure and put in circulation, will be punished with imprisonment in the House of Correction for the amount of fifteen years"—on the back of it is "F. W., 10 thaler currency. Letter C, Prussian Treasury Bill, No. 38106.")



Six Years Penal Servitude.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-270
VerdictsNot Guilty > unknown; Not Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

270. JAMES COUTTS was indicted for embezzlement.

MESSRS. PARRY and LAWRENCE conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM WHTTWORTH . I am an accountant, and live in Bedford-street, Commercial-road—The Experience Land Society, with which I am connected, was in the habit of having a room once a month at the Jews and General Literary and Scientific Institution—I knew the prisoner as secretary there for a short time—I paid him 3l. 10s.—I took this receipt of him for it, dated 14th Aug., 1855.

LIONEL ROSENBERG . I was sub-librarian of that institution in Aug. and Sept. last—I received 1l. 10s. on account of that Institution about 10th Sept. from Mr. Taylor—I paid it over to the prisoner next morning—it was my duty to receive money when the prisoner was absent.

Cross-examined by MR. TALFOURD SALTER. Q. How long have you ceased to be librarian? A. About two months—I did not receive notice to leave; I left of my own accord, because I had a better situation in view, that I thought might be more profitable—I am in that situation—there had been no misunderstanding between me and some of the gentlemen—I sometimes received money in the absence of the prisoner—I then gave a memorandum with my own name attached to it—I never gave a memorandum with the prisoner's name attached to it; certainly not—there were blank forms of receipts about the Institution with the prisoner's name attached to them—I never used those receipts when I received money in the prisoner's absence—it has not been the second or third day after I received money before I paid it in—in Sept. the prisoner sent word he was ill, and he was absent some days—I do not remember that any money was paid in during the time he was ill—there is not money paid in almost every day; the subscriptions

are due quarterly—two days have elapsed without money being received—I am not aware that I received money while he was ill; I am inclined to think I did not—if there had been money paid, I would have kept it and given it to him—I have not received several amounts and put them together and accounted to the prisoner for those amounts—I am not able to swear that I paid each amount separately to him before I received another—I cannot remember that I have received two amounts together before I paid them to him; I might have done so—when I received those amounts, and before I paid them to the prisoner, I made a memorandum on a piece of paper, nearly every time—I did so frequently—I did not make an account in any book before paying it to the prisoner—when I had not made a memorandum, I had only to trust to my memory—on one occasion I forgot from whom I received money—I do not recollect more than once—it was on the night of a lecture—I mixed the" money with other, and could not recollect from whom I received it—it was at the time of Mr. Thackeray's lecture—such a matter only occurred once—I do not remember how many times it occurred that night—it was on or about the 29th Sept—I am able to state that on no other occasion I have told the prisoner I could not recollect the amount or the name of the person from whom I received it—I never filled up those blank receipts—I have never seen any one else do it—I have never seen Mr. Oppenheim take and fill up those—it was on one occasion the prisoner left those receipts on his desk—he always kept them under lock and key in the iron chest—on one occasion Mr. Oppenheim had the key of the iron safe, but never out of the prisoner's sight—that was not broken open when the prisoner was ill to my knowledge—he never complained of its being done—I know, Mr. Myers—I do not recollect that the prisoner complained that he had broken open his chest—I am not aware that it was ever brought under the notice of the committee—I was at this'Institution at the time the prisoner first came—the books were not under my charge—I heard they were in a little confusion, not in great confusion—I heard the late librarian say that the books were in some confusion—I am not aware that that confusion was complained of at the time the prisoner came to the establishment—he was not obliged to receive money at the time the committee met—I am not aware that he did so, or that he made payments.

MR. PARRY. Q. Tell me whether this receipt for 3l. 10s. is the prisoner's writing? A. Yes—I am certain I paid the 30s. to the prisoner—Mr. Thackeray delivered a lecture, and there was a great crowd, and some irregularity.

LAWRENCE SUMMERS . I am a subscriber to this Institution—I paid the prisoner 4s. 6d. on 1st Oct.—he did not give me a receipt—he gave me a card, but I have not got it—I paid him 4s., and paid the rest the next night—I am quite sure I paid it him.

Cross-examined. Q. Was the 1st Oct. a lecture night? A. No, nor when I paid the remainder.

DAVID HYAMS . I am treasurer of this Institution—the prisoner was secretary—it was his duty to account to me or the sub-treasurer for moneys received, sometimes weekly, and sometimes fortnightly—he did not account to me for 3l. 10s. received on 14th Aug., from the Land Society; or for 1l. 10s. from the Land Society; or for 4s. 6d. received from Lawrence Summers on 1st Oct.—this is the book (producing it) in which it was his duty to enter these sums—the 4s. 6d., the 3l. 10s., are not here.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe you received a good character with the

prisoner? A. Yes—he had been Mr. Thackeray's private secretary—he has not to my knowledge, since he has been secretary and librarian, supplied articles occasionally to him—Mr. Thackeray is in America—I think the prisoner's salary was 50l. a year, and a commission besides—he might have deducted that from the money he received, but he did not in general—he had no other duties but secretary and librarian—he had to attend committee meetings, and was generally at the lectures—he had to receive money at the time of the committee meetings—he was always pretty well employed—when he came to us, he used the same books that came from the previous librarian, as far as I know—I think he was told, And told truly, that they were in disorder—I am not aware that that confusion has Continued to exist—I do not recollect promising him new books—he accounted to Mr. Oppenheim, the sub-treasurer, as well as to me—we made an entry at the time he accounted—it was his duty to enter all the sums he received, either in this subscription book or this journal—I cannot say whether any one else ever made entries in these books besides the prisoner—at any rate, all the amounts received ought to appear in one of the two books—I recollect a legacy of 45l. being left by Mr; Samuels—I should think that would not be entered in these books—every amount the prisoner received would be in these books—the 45l. was never paid to me—it was for a legacy—I do not know whether the 45l. was brought by the prisoner with a cheque, and paid into the banker's or not—I cannot be confident that the prisoner did not receive that amount—I made a settlement with the prisoner every week, or fortnight; it might pass over two or three weeks—he might on some occasions have to refer to scraps of paper; I did not take notice of that, thinking it was merely to refresh his own memory.

Q. Look at this part; it appears that for five or six weeks it had not been audited by you? A. During that period I was not in England.

COURT. Q. It appears that there was some time during which you did not get anything from the prisoner? A. It seems so by this book, for five or six weeks, but it was received by Mr. Oppenheim.

MR. SALTER. Q. But it appears that for that time the book was not audited? A. No, from 3rd Oct. to 4th Dec. there was no settlement—I never remember the prisoner having told me in a later week, that he had made an omission on a former occasion; I may have heard it from the sub-treasurer—I have not received money, and given the prisoner's blank receipts—this (looking at it) is the prisoner's letter to the committee tendering his resignation.

Q. I will not go through the whole letter, but do you recollect this sentence, "I shall be glad if the treasurer will appoint a day to go over my accounts?" A. Yes—I should think this letter was received ten or twelve weeks ago—if I remember rightly, he had been absent two or three days—he came again after that—it was not known to me where he was living—this 3l. 10s. is not in the journal; I believe it was received from the Experience Building Society—on 14th Aug., in this book (looking at it) here is "Experience Building Society," but it is blank, no money put to it—it would appear that a meeting was held that day, but no money paid.

MORRIS SIMEON OPPENHEIM . I live in Emsly-street, Tavistock-square, and am a student of the Middle Temple—I am sub-treasurer of this institution—here is a receipt for 3l. 10s. in the prisoner's writing—that money has never been paid over to me—the prisoner's duty with reference to money he received was to pay it over weekly or fortnightly, or sometimes in three or four weeks, when called on by the treasurer or me—his duty was to have the

money ready weekly, but sometimes we did not come down for three or four weeks—I have examined the books—this sum of 3l. 10s. does not appear in the journal—it has not been paid to me, nor has the 1l. 10s., nor the 4s. 6d.

Cross-examined. Q. Is there anything due to the prisoner? A. I think 3l. 6d. 8d. is due to him, but at the time of his admission the committee advanced him 5l., which is due to us—to the best of my belief the per centage due to him is 2l. or 3l.—there is from 1l. 10s. to 2l. in his favour——he left in Oct.—he resigned office at a meeting of the committee on the Wednesday, I think the 24th Oct.—his resignation was by letter—he assigned five or six reasons for resigning—from what I was told, he left the institution on the Friday following, the 26th—it was his duty to stay till the 1st Nov.—after his resignation had been accepted, he entered the room, and stated that he would make up with me the whole of his accounts—I never knew where he lived—no entry is made against this amount in the journal, by the Experience Land Society appearing on 14th Aug. in blank, it would appear as if the Society held a meeting—when the prisoner rendered his account to me he used to have scrape of paper, but I would only receive his account from the amount entered in these books—those papers were, I believe, memorandums of petty expenses and sums he had laid out, for which he always had to give me vouchers, which were received as cash—of course I only knew from what he said—I cannot tell whether he kept scraps of paper with reference to amounts he received—he had a blank receipt book, and a book from which he gave the subscription receipts—those were never used by anybody else to my knowledge—I never filled up one of those blanks—I can swear at the present moment I never used them—when I was asked before, I could not recollect, because the gentleman who was examining me confounded the word blank receipt with blank memorandums—I believe on the first night of the session Mr. Thackeray gave a lecture—I was sitting in the library—the prisoner was at the back of the theatre—one or two came and wanted to pay money—he was not there to receive it, and either a committee man or a member said, "Can't you give the receipt I"—I said, "No; but I can give a memorandum"—I think I received three subscriptions—I am not certain whether I gave them to the prisoner or his assistant—the date of Mr. Thackeray's lecture was some time in the middle of Oct.—I may have paid those sums to the prisoner's assistant—I believe he used to receive money by the prisoner's authority—I should not think it irregular for him to receive subscriptions in the absence of the prisoner—he was authorized to do so by the prisoner generally—I think it was three or four weeks after the prisoner left the institution when he was apprehended.

Q. Did you or any of the members have any communication with the prisoner on the question of his accounts before he was apprehended? A. I can only say I was not present, but I know there was a message sent to him—he was seen by the porter of the institution, when he left on the Friday night—we were rather surprised he remained away several days—there was no communication made to him to my personal knowledge.

COURT. Q. When you say that 1l. 10s. or 2l. is due to him, you mean leaving the 3l. 10s., the 1l. 10s., and the 4s. 6d. out of the matter altogether? A. Yes.

JAMES GOODMAN (City policeman, 591). I took the prisoner on 7th Jan on a charge of embezzling various sums of money in the institution in Leadenhall-street—he said it was a mistake, he did not understand it.

Cross-examined. Q. Was this at his lodging? A. At his lodging in

Pond-place, Chelsea, at the Black Horse beer shop—I do not know how long he had lived there.


( There were two other indictments against the prisoner for embezzlement, on which no evidence was offered .)

THIRD COURT.—Friday, February 8th, 1856.


Before Mr. Recorder and the Eighth Jury.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-271
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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271. MARY ANN SWANN and JOHN MARVIN , unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of a certain male child, deceased, of which the said Mary Ann Swann had been delivered.


(For other Cases tried this day, see Kent Cases.)


Before Russell Gurney, Esq.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-272
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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272. THOMAS DOCKERELL , embezzling 3l. 10s.; the moneys of William Potter: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Six Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-273
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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273. THOMAS MARKS and EDWARD ARCHER , unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.

CHARLES CLARK . I am the son of Daniel Clark, a greengrocer, at Plaistow Marsh, Essex. On 15th Jan., about half past 6 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner Archer came in—he wanted 3d. worth of parsneps—I served him with them—he gave me a half-crown—I looked at it, and gave him the change, and put it into the till, in a piece of paper—I had no other half crown in the till—I afterwards gave it to my father—when I had given Archer his change, he went away—I afterwards went with my father to the Victoria Dock Tavern—I found the two prisoners and a woman drinking together—I called my father's attention to the prisoners, and he detained them while I went for a policeman—I marked the half crown Archer gave me—I should know it again—after Archer had come into our shop, Marks came in in about five minutes—he wanted 2d. worth of oranges for somebody that was ill—he gave me half a crown to pay for them—I gave him 2s. 4d. change—Marks went away—I gave both the half crowns to my father—I then went with him to the Victoria Dock Tavern, and found them all drinking—these (produced) are the two half crowns—this is the one Archer gave me, and this is the one that Marks gave me.

ROBERT BARRETT . I keep the Victoria Dock Tavern. On 15th Jan., at nearly 6 o'clock, the prisoners came in with a woman—the woman called for a quartern of gin, and gave me a good sixpence—they drank the gin amongst them, and then left the house—they were gone a quarter of an hour—they then returned, and soon after I saw the witness Charles Clark

—the charge was preferred against the prisoners of passing two bad half crowns—they denied it, and were taken into custody.

CHARLES COWLES (policeman, K 399). I know Charles Clark and his father—on the evening of 15th Jan. I received these two half crowns from him, and marked them—I went with Charles Clark to the Victoria Dock Tavern, and took Marks into custody—I found on him a sixpence and a 3d. piece, good.

EDWARD ROBERT GAMBLE (police sergeant, K 49). I went with the last witness to the Victoria Bock Tavern on the evening of 15th Jan.—the two prisoners and a woman were there—I took Archer and the woman Eaton—I found one halfpenny on Archer—I received some things from a person whom Whiskin told to give them to me.

DANIEL WHISKIN . I am potman at the Victoria Dock Tavern, at Plaistow Marsh. On 15th Jan. I saw the two prisoners there, and a woman—the woman walked out about 100 yards from the house, and threw something over a boarded fence—it turned out to be five parsneps and two oranges.

(The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate were here read as follows: Marks says, "I deny having passed a half crown that day, either good or bad." Archer says, "I don't recollect anything concerning it; I was drunk; if I did buy the parsneps of Clark, the half crown was a good one.")

Marks's Defence. I was very tipsy; I had been drinking all the day.

Archer's Defence. I was going home, and this man ran against me; he apologised, and asked me to go and drink, which I did; I know nothing about any half crown.

CHARLES COWLES re-examined. Marks was the worse for liquor—Archer was very drunk—he could nardly walk.

COURT to ROBERT BARRETT. Q. What did they have in your house? A. One pint of porter—Archer was drunk—the first time they had a quartern of gin.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Royal Mini These half crowns are both bad.

MARKS— GUILTY . Aged 36.


Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-274
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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274. EDWARD HILL was indicted for a like offence.

MR. CLARKSON Conducted the Prosecution.

EDWARD OFFER . I am a beer shop keeper at Stratford, in Essex—on Monday, 21st Jan., the prisoner came into my house about a quarter before 10 o'clock at night—he wanted half a pint of porter, and tendered me a penny for it—after he had had that, he called for another half pint—I was in the act of drawing it—I looked round, and he laid a shilling down—I told him it was bad—he said that it was not—I said, "I will show you"—I put it into my mouth and bit it into two pieces—I gave him into custody, and gave the shilling to the officer—the prisoner was discharged the next morning.

WILLIAM SOUTH (policeman, K 233). I took the prisoner on 21st Jan.—I found on him three good shillings—on the way to the station, he said, "I thought they could not do anything to me for one piece"—he gave the name of James Christmas—this shilling which is bitten in two, was given to me by Mr. Offer.

LOUISA SHADE . I am the wife of Charles Shade, and live at West Ham—on Saturday evening, 26th Jan., the prisoner came between five and six

o'clock into a shop which I was superintending for a person who was ill—he wanted a pound of bread and two ounces of butter—he put down a half crown—I went in the back room and brought one shilling and two sixpences—I was about to give him change for the half crown which I had kept in my hand—when I bit the half crown, the prisoner said, "Do you think it is a bad one?"—I said, "Yes, I do"—he said, "You have no occasion to do so, I was taken last week for passing a bad shilling, but they found it was good, and I was discharged"—after he was gone, I took the half crown to Mrs. Pool, and in consequence of what she said, I met Moor the officer—he took me to a house where I saw the prisoner—I knew him and gave him into custody—he said if I would take back the change, he would take back the half crown—this is the half crown he gave me—I marked it.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These are both bad, and the half crown is from the same mould as one of the half crowns uttered in the last case.

Prisoners Defence. I sold a pair of boots for 13s., and in that 13s. was this bad shilling; I was going to sell a pair of trowsers, and I met a man who gave me this half crown for them; I was not aware it was bad.

GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-275
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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275. SARAH SPINDELL KNOWLES , stealing 8 yards of print and other articles, value 10l. the goods of John Agar: to which she

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 50.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-276
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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276. WILLIAM MARSHALL , stealing, at Ilford, 5 tame fowls, value 12s., the property of George Leeks: to which she

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Three Month.

Before Mr. Recorder.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-277
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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277. JAMES ASPEDEN , stealing 1 purse and 15s.; the property of Michael Crawley, from the person of Margaret Crawley.

MR. M'ENTEER conducted the Prosecution.

MARGARET CRAWLEY . I am the wife of Michael Crawley. On Saturday night, 2nd Feb., between eight and nine o'clock, I was in a grocer's shop at Stratford, waiting to be served—I had a purse in my possession when I left Mr. Johnson's shop about four minutes before—I went from Mr. Johnson's to that shop—I did not see the prisoner; but while I stood in the shop I put my hand into my pocket to pay for what I asked for, and I missed my purse and money—I turned round to come out of the shop, and met Mrs. Taylor—she said, "Mistress, you are robbed"—I said, "Yes, of my purse and all my money"—I went out of the shop, and found the prisoner in the hands of Mr. Brown, the shopman, a few yards from the door—I got this purse from Mr. Turvey—it is mine, and it had all the money in it just as when I had it.

Cross-examined by MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. Had you your purse when you went into this shop? A. I had it when I left Mr. Johnson's—I cannot exactly say whether it was in my pocket when I went into the grocer's—it was Saturday night, and rather a busy night—I had not anything else in that pocket where the purse was.

ELIZABETH TAYLOR . I live at Plaistow—I was in Mr. Smith's, the grocer's shop, on that Saturday night—I saw the last witness there—I saw the prisoner come in—he stood beside me for about three minutes—I then saw him follow Mrs. Crawley to the end of the shop, and I saw him draw

his arm up from her side—I put my basket down, and had hold of the collar of his coat—I said, "You have robbed that woman"—the woman said that she had lost her purse—the prisoner got to the door, and another one came and rescued him from me—we all fell down, and the prisoner got away—the shopman followed him—he was brought back in about two minutes.

Cross-examined. Q. You say the person got away from you? A. Yes—the prisoner is the one—I had hold of him, but when we all fell, I could not hold him—Mrs. Crawley came into the shop while the prisoner stood by the side of me—I was waiting to be served—there were two besides me—I saw the prisoner stoop down, and raise up his arms—he did not stoop down on the floor—he stooped a little.

MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Was that stooping to put his hand in the pocket? A. I thought so.

COURT. Q. While you were trying to hold him in the shop, did some one come and rescue him? A. Yes.

LEWIS BROWN . I am shopman to Mr. Smith—I was serving in the shop on the night of 2nd Feb.—I saw the prosecutrix and the prisoner—Mrs. Taylor spoke to me—I saw the prisoner behind Mrs. Crawley, and as he was turning round, Mrs. Taylor caught hold of him—I ran round the counter—he was just getting from her—I ran and oaught him, and brought him back—I lost sight of him—I was close behind him, but he got into a crowd—a gentleman said, "That is the boy"—I went and took him.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the scuffle in the shop? A. That was outside just at the step—I saw another boy taller than him—it was between 8 and 9 o'clock at night—the boy ran into a crowd—I went and seized him—I caught the one I followed—he said he was not the boy.

MATTHEW TURVEY . I am a labourer, and live at West Ham. On the night of 2nd Feb., I was outside that shop—I saw the prisoner run by me, and the shopman after him—I did not follow him—I kept my standing till he was in the hands of Mr. Brown—I saw him seize him—when I first saw him, he was coming down the steps of the shop—I saw him brought back by Mr. Brown—I am sure he is the same person—I went to where Mr. Brown caught hold of him, and picked up this purse on the ground—I gave it to the prosecutrix.

JAMES RANDALL (policeman, K 324). I was sent for to Mr. Smith's shop—I did not see the purse till the next morning.

GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Six Weeks.


Before Russell Gurney, Esq.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-278
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown

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278. WILLIAM SKATE and THOMAS BIGGS , stealing 4 spoons, 1 pepper box, and 1 ladle, value 3l. 16s.; the goods of William Thomas Woodham.

MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.

HANNAH NASH . I am servant to Mr. Steer, of the Retreat, Lewisham On Monday morning, 21st Jan., about 11 o'clock, I was cleaning the parlour windows which look to the road, and saw the prisoner Biggs pass the house, and go up to Mr. Woodham's kitchen window, which is the next house—I looked out, saw him coming out at the kitchen window, and ram to the door

with my fellow-servant—Biggs then came up to the window, and asked if I wanted any writing paper—I said, "No"—he had a parcel in a blue handkerchief in his hand, like this one (produced)—he walked away, and then I saw Skate waiting eighteen or twenty yards from the kitchen window, and looking towards it—they both went away together—the prisoners were brought to me on the 25th by a constable, and I identified them at once.

HANNAH WOODHAM . I am the wife of William Thomas Woodham, of the Retreat, Lewisham. On 21st Jan., about 10 o'clock, I lost two tea spoons, a caddy ladle, a mustard spoon, a silver pepper box top, and a German silver spoon, from a cupboard in the kitchen—I have seen none of them since.

JOHN HYDE (policeman, R 332). On 25th Jan. I was in my garden at Perry-vale, Sydenham, and saw the prisoners pass along the road—in consequence of something I had heard, I followed them about half a mile, when they sat down by the side of the footpath—as I came up to them they were sorting over some writing paper which they had in a parcel, and another bundle lay before them—I was in plain clothes—I told them that I was an officer, and they must go with me—they wanted to know what for—I said, "On suspicion of stealing some silver spoons"—Skate said, "I know nothing about it; how many times are we to be taken into custody on suspicion of stealing them spoons? we were taken into custody yesterday, taken to the station, the parties were sent for, and we were not the men, and were sent off about our business"—Biggs said, "That is true, so help me God"—I took them to the station at Sydenham, and then to Mr. Woodham's house—I asked Hannah Nash if she knew anything of them—she said that Biggs was the man who came out of the kitchen window, and that Skate came up to the door with some writing paper—I do not recollect Biggs saying anything, but Skafe began to insult her very much, and said that he was at Gravesend on the Monday that this occurred, but did not say the time—he threatened her that if he got seven years, he would serve her out when he came back—I produce this bundle; it contains two parcels of writing paper, a dozen pencils, and a few memorandum books and envelopes—I took it from Biggs.

Skate. Q. When you came to us did you say "spoons," or "plate "? A. Silver spoons—I asked you what time you were taken to the station, and you said, "Between 12 and 1 o'clock," which was false.

(Skates statement before the Magistrate was here ready as follows: "I was not there where the witness stated, when Biggs went into the window.")

Skate's Defence. I was at Gravesend at the time, and did not come back till the next Tuesday morning; I know nothing about it.

Bigg's Defence. I stated to the constable that I was living at Woolwich when this happened, and the Magistrate remanded us, and sent to Woolwich to Mr. Murray's, where I was lodging; I told him that I could prove that I was stopping at Woolwich, and he remanded us to see.



Confined twelve months.

(There was another indictment against the prisoners.)

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-279
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

279. JOSEPH MONTAGUE , stealing 1 handkerchief, and 2s. 6d. in money; the property of John Moore, from his person.

JOHN MOORE . I am a seaman. On 15th Jan. I got drinking, and was picked up by an officer, and taken to the station house—this handkerchief (produced) is mine—I had it safe that evening, and afterwards missed it,

and also some money, which was tied up in a corner of it—I do not know how much.

WILLIAM WILKINSON (policeman). I found Moore lying down in the street, and the prisoner supporting him in a sitting posture—when I went up, the prisoner suddenly left him, and somebody said something to me, in consequence of which I went after him, and asked him where the handkerchief was which he had taken from the sailor—he said that he had no handkerchief at all—I said that I was convinced he had, and he produced it with a half crown tied up in the corner of it—I told him he must go to the station, and he said that I had better take half of what was in the handkerchief, and let him go.

Prisoners Defence. I found the handkerchief lying down on the stones, and picked it up.

GUILTY .** Aged 28.— Confined Four Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-280
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

280. WILLIAM SULLIVAN was indicted for unlawfully ottering counterfeit coin: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Nine Months.

Before Mr. Recorder.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-281
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

281. JOSEPH POOLE was indicted for bigamy.

MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.

JOSIAH TURNER (policeman, R 307). I produce a certificate of the prisoners marriage with his first wife—(Read; "St. Barnabas, Middlesex, Sept. 11, 1853, Joseph Poole and Mary Ann Manvitte, married after banns by me, A. Adolphus, Curate")—this other certificate of the second marriage was brought to me by the second wife on 22nd Jan.

MARIA GOODY . I am the wife of James Goody, of Brunswick-street, St. John-street, Clerkenwell, I know the prisoner—I was present at the parish church of St. Barnabas, in the parish of St. Luke's, Middlesex, on either the 11th or 13th Sept., 1852 or 1853, when he was married to Mary Ann Manville, whom I saw alive last Tuesday—I acted as bridesmaid.

Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. I believe she was what is called an unfortunate girl? A. No, she was not, nothing of the kind—there is no ground for that, she was a respectable hardworking girl—she worked at the same place with me afterwards, but was very ill after her confinement, and went home to her mother with the prisoner's consent—the child was born very nearly twelve months after the marriage—I an not aware that the prisoner complained of her—she did not tell me the nature of her illness, and I do not know what it was—I did not see her for two months before she was confined, and twelve months afterwards.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Is there any ground for insinuating that there was anything wrong in her conduct? A. No, she is a very respectable young woman—I have known her for five years.

EMILY WATERS . I gave the two certificates to the policeman—I got one from Lewisham Church, and the other from St. Barnabas' Church—this one was given to me by a female, and this other by the clerk when I was married, on Hth May, 1855, to the prisoner at Lewisham Church—I had known him six months and a fortnight, and during that time be represented himself as a single man—I cannot read—about three months after we were married, I heard of his marriage, but he would not let me go to the church to look at the book—I told him of it, and he denied it—I continued to live with him until about a fortnight ago, when he left me; it was last Saturday

fortnight, or three weeks—I went to a policeman on the Monday, and the prisoner was taken on the Wednesday evening.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you a brother? A. Yes, two or three—one of them worked with the prisoner, and the prisoner came to lodge at my mother's house before we were married—I had a baby when I had been married, I believe, six months; or it might have been five, or four months, I never took any notice—I was married on 14th May—(MR. M'ENTEER handed in the certificate of the child's birth, by which it appeared to have been born three months after marriage)—I was at home with my parents before I was married—I have never been an unfortunate girl—my brother did not caution me that the prisoner was a married man—I lived with my mother at Greenwich at the time I was married—the banns were published at Lewisham Church by the prisoner's wish—I have known his father for four years, I did not know his first wife—my brother did not object to my keeping company with him, he never told me that the prisoner was a married man—I knew Mrs. Seager, I never told her that before I was married I knew that the prisoner was married; I told her that I had heard it, but I did not know how true it was—I did not tell her that before I was married, I did not know it then, I am sure of that—I did not tell her that I and my brother had a quarrel, because he cautioned me that the prisoner was a married man—I shall be twenty years old next June.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you know anything about his being married? A. Not till three months after I married him—he is the father of my child—it is not alive—I was living with my mother when the banns were published—my father is a bricklayer, and my mother keeps his house—the prisoner told me on the day we were married that he was twenty-two years old.

JOSIAH TURNER re-examined. I took the prisoner, on 23rd Jan., in Stockwell-street, Greenwich—I told him he was charged with bigamy—he said nothing to Emily Waters who was close by my side—I then said, "Is this your wife?"—he said, "Yes, I suppose you want me to maintain her?"—I said, "Yes"—when we got to the station I explained the charge to him—he said that it was quite false—I produced these two certificates, and he then said, "It is no use denying it, it is quite true"—I have been to both churches and compared the certificates with the register, they are correct.

MR. M'NTEER called

MARY FRANCES SEAGER . I know Emily Waters—I had a conversation with her about her marriages—she did not tell me before she was married that she knew that the prisoner had a wife living—she said that her brother told her on the morning after she had been walking out with the prisoner in the evening, that she had been walking with a married man, and ought to be ashamed of herself, and quarrelled with her—I said, "Did not you tell him of it?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "And what did he say?"—she said, "He said that he had been living with some person, and had had a child, and you can believe it if you like."

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How long after her marriage was this conversation? A. In September, or October—she said, "The second night that I had been walking with him, my brother quarrelled with me next morning, and said that I ought to be ashamed of myself for walking with a married man"—it was before her marriage that she had walked out with him.

GUILTY .— Confined Eight Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-282
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence; Guilty > lesser offence; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

282. EDWARD NORTON, CHRISTOPHER HOLDMAN , and GEORGE ALLEN , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Randal Stapp, at St. Paul, Deptford, and stealing therein a rifle, 1 desk, 1 pair of gloves, and other articles, value 18l., his property. 2nd COUNT, feloniously receiving the same.

MESSRS. W. J. PAYNE and TALFOURD SALTER conducted the Prosecution.

MARIA CONDON . I am servant to Mr. Randal Stapp, of New Cross. On Wednesday night, 26th Dec. I shut up the house at half past 9 o'clock—the shutters were not shut, but the window was fastened with a clasp, and the Venetian blind was down—the front kitchen window was shut, and the inside shutters were closed and bolted—it was all safe at a little after 10 o'clock, when I went to bed—I think I was up after my master—I came down next morning at 7 o'clock—the kitchen shutter was half open, the window half way up, and the Venetian blind taken away—it appeared to me to have been done from the inside—I called my master—he came down and I went with him into the front parlour—the Venetian blinds were pulled down and the window was shut, but not fastened, and a pane of glass was broken close to the fastening—I missed from the parlour two table covers, a cloak, a pair of boots, and a gun; and from the breakfast room, a tea caddy, a desk, some plate, a cruet stand, and various other things; also a shawl of mine, which had hung on the back kitchen door—these things were all safe the night before.

RANDAL STAPP . I live at No. 6, Amersham-road, in the parish of St. Paul, Deptford. On Wednesday night, 26th Dec., I went to bed about 11 o'clock, but before the servant—the dining and breakfast rooms were then safe—next morning, about 7 o'clock, I was called up, went into the dining room, and found the window open, and a large pane of glass broken—among other things, I missed a coat which was hanging in the hall the night before, and, I believe, a pair of woollen glo'ves were in the pocket of it, but I am not certain—I missed a pair of woollen gloves, whether they were in the pocket or not—I do not exactly remember where I left them—I wore them when I came home at 7 or 8 o'clock, and did not go out again—I pulled them off in the house—this glove (produced) is one of them—I know it by the pattern, and my wife-mended it in the seam; she is here—I have heard nothing of the coat since—this glove is rather tight for me: those that I lost were as tight, they were ladies' size—this rifle is mine, and was safe in my house on 26th Dec.

Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What do you know it by? A. It is a peculiar make, an invention of our family, and was made on purpose; you never saw one before or since—it is registered—I belong to a rifle corps.

COURT. Q. Are you the only person who has one like this? A. Our family—it has a red sight; my brother in law, Mr. Walker, invented it, and allows me to use it—it was made by Pritchett—in my judgment the house was entered from the parlour window—I found this wire hook (produced) on the window sill.

ALEXANDER GROOMBRIDGE . I am assistant to Thomas, William, and Robert Fisher, pawnbrokers. On the evening of 27th Dec., I took this rifle in pledge for 1l. 10s., of a man I know, who gave the name of Thomas Allen, and who I believe to be Allen's brother—it was not either of the prisoners.

MARIA SARAH STAPP . This is my husband's glove—I know it by the mend—I mended it at Farnham three or four days before Christmas Day—I took particular pains with it, and have made it to correspond—I can speak positively to it—I know this rifle by the red sight.

Holdman. I picked the gloves up in the street, the day before I was taken into custody.

WILLIAM HUNT (policeman, M 247). On 11th Jan., about 8 o'clock in the evening, I proceeded with Crouch, another constable, to No. 10, Brandon-road, Newington-causeway—the front door was open—A female opened the door of the first floor front room, and we found there Norton, Holdman, and another party, named William Easterbrook, who has been in custody, and is discharged—I told them I came to apprehend them on a charge of burglary, at Mr. Randal Stapp's, on 27th Dec., No. 6, Amersham-road, Lewisham-park, in the parish of St. Paul, Deptford—Norton said, "I suppose you are sent here for me through my being detained at Greenwich one morning for two hours"—I then took them to the station, and searched them—in Holdman's coat pocket, I found this glove (produced); I asked him how he came by it, he said that he picked it up—he did not say where, but before the Magistrate, on the last examination, he said that he picked it up near Newingtoncauseway.

JOHN CLEMENT LOSING (policeman, E 482). On 1st Jan., about half past 6 o'clock in the morning, I saw Norton loitering about the Lewisham-road—I stopped him, and asked what business he had there—he said that he came out for a walk—I searched him, but found nothing of any consequence—I sent him to the station by another constable—he was detained two hours and liberated.

COURT. Q. What do you mean by loitering about? A. He was not walking sharp, but looking at houses, and dodging into gardens in a very suspicious manner—it was not daylight, but there were gas lamps.

JOHN WILLIAM GLOVER . I live at No. 26, Tiverton-street, Newingtonoauseway. I know Norton—he worked with me at the same firm, in June last, at Messrs. Knowles and Hunter's, leather hose and pipe and bucket makers—Norton lives within 120 or 200 yards of me, and I am well acquainted with him—on a Monday, in the early part of Jan., he came to my house, and said, "I had a narrow squeak this morning"—I asked him what it was about—he said that it was on suspicion of loitering about to break into a house—I asked him if he was not afraid—he said, no, and that he had nothing to fear, and that he told them they would get a good character from Knowles and Hunter, where he had been at work—he said, "We have committed a robbery, and a rifle, a desk, and several articles have been taken"—I think he said it was in the Lewisham-road—he said, "I met the parties I went with, Chris and Bill, on the previous night, and they called for me at my house in the morning; we went to the Lewisham-road, and there was a bundle brought, and a gun; I had to carry the gun, and the bundle was given to George Allen; they were carried home; the desk was broken open, and the contents of it burned, and George Allen gave the gun to his brother Thomas to pawn, and it was pawned for 30s., and George Allen met his brother in the street, and went home to my place, and halved the money"—he also said that the tickets of the things which were pawned were burned; that a coat, a desk, a cruet stand, and a toast rack were sold, and that Holdman gave the shawl to his (Norton's) wife to pawn, and gave her the ticket for pawning it—he stated that this took place on Thursday—I have been in Easterbrook's company two hours—his Christian name is William.

Cross-examined. Q. What are you doing now? A. Working at Mr. Harmer's—I was out of work on this day, and had been so about three weeks—there was nobody there but Norton and me—it was in my room—he

called to see me, and told me that, without my asking him anything—what brought it up was his telling me that George Allen was taken up for breaking into a house—he told me all with the greatest openness—he mentioned Lewisham; I cannot swear that he did not say "Greenwich"—I am not trying to make up something—I did not tell Norton that I should go and tell the police—it was over our tea that it happened—I cannot say that he did not tell me about a robbery at Greenwich—I did not write it down—I mentioned it to Hunt, the policeman, and went before the Magistrate on the following Friday, after the case had been partly heard—I cannot tell how it was that I was not there before—Norton told me that the top of the gun had a particular mark on it, a red place at the top of the barrel, and that it was a very splendid gun—I cannot tell why he told me—I have known him since 2nd June—I have been working at Mr. Banner's three weeks or a month—Norton said that he met the others in Spitalfields—that is a long way from Lewisham—he said something about a robbery, which had been committed in Deptford, but we parted, and he did not finish it—that was not about carrying the gun, it was not the same date he was speaking about when he spoke about the cruet stand and desk; it was previous—I did not tell him that I should go and tell a policeman—I did not say, "I am an honest man; do not tell me about any robberies"—I did not shove him out of the house—I went out with him in the evening, but did not say anything to him about the wickedness of it.

MR. T. SALTER. Q. This conversation took place on the evening of a certain day; what time next morning did you mention it to the constable? A. In the evening, about 7 o'clock—at the time the conversation between me and Norton took place I had heard nothing about the robbery except from him.

COURT to WILLIAM HUNT. Q. Do you know when Allen was taken? A. On Monday, 7th Jan., about twenty minutes past 6 o'clock in the morning.

THOMAS ALLEN . I live at No. 4, Meadow-row, New Kent-road. On the evening of 27th Dec. I pledged this rifle at Messrs. Fisher's, in Walworth-road—I received it from my brother, George Allen. I got 1l. 10s. for it, and gave him 1l. 9s. 10d. 2d. being deducted by the pawnbroker for the ticket—I was taken to the Greenwich police court, remanded twice, and detained till 26th Jan.

COURT to ALEXANDER GROOMBRIDGE. Q. Did you take 2d. for the ticket? A. Yes; that is always done; you will find it in the Act of Parliament; it is 2d. up to 4l., and 4d. beyond.

COURT to MR. STAFF. Q. Where is Lewisham-road? A. It turns out of New Cross, and goes right up to the Lewisham Arms railway station—my house is about 100 yards out of Lewiaham-road, but is in the parish of St. Paul, Deptford, not in the parish of Lewisham.

Holdmaris Defeance. The glove produced is one which I picked up on Thursday, the day before I was taken, in Newington Causeway, and I put it into my pocket; I cannot say who dropped it; I told the policeman, when he took it out of my pocket, that I had picked it up.

Allen's Defence. I admit having the gun; I gave it to my brother to pledge; I received it from Holdman, in the presence of Martin and Easterbrook; I do not know Martin, but Easterbrook is a lodger in hit house; he said that it belonged to a relation of his, and that he had to take it to be mended, but he should not take it that night, he should pledge it for a day or two, and said that he would give me 1s. if I would pledge it; I went to my brother, about fifty yards off, and said, "Tom, will you pledge thin

gun?" he said, "Is it all right?" I said, "Yes, you can pledge it in my name, and give my address;" he gave me the money; I gave it to the man, he gave me 1s.; I gave my brother 5d. or 6d., and left them; I had no share in the money.

COURT to WILLIAM HUNT. Q. When did Glover first give you information? A. On 7th Jan., in the morning—I believe it was on that evening that Allen was taken—Glover was not before the Magistrate till he was requested to be there—I do not know at whose request he was there—I informed the Magistrate of the information I had received from him, and the Magistrate ordered him to attend.

NORTON— GUILTY on 2nd COUNT. Aged 25.

HOLDMAN— GUILTY on 2nd COUNT. Aged 20.

Four Years Penal Servitude.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-283
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

283. WILLIAM MAYNARD , feloniously uttering a forged 5l. note, with intent to defraud.

MR. BAILEY conducted the Prosecution.

ANN FRENCH . I am a widow—I keep the Golden Anchor public house, at East Greenwich. On Saturday, 24th Nov., the prisoner came between 11 and 12 o'clock in the forenoon—I knew him—he asked for a pint of rum—he brought the bottle with him—I served him, and he paid me for it with a 5l. note—I said to him "Is this yours?"—he said, "I come for change for a person that I work for, Mr. Oliver, an oilman, in Trafalgar-road"—I wrote that on the note, this is it (looking at it)—"Oliver, oilman"—this is my writing—I gave the prisoner 4l. 18s. 4d. change, and the pint of rum—he took the change and the rum away—on 12th Dec. I paid the note to Mr. Wade, the distiller, and I received it back on the 17th—I saw the prisoner once after that, at my house, on 5th Jan.—the note had then been returned to me—I did not say anything to the prisoner about it—I left it till I saw my distiller—on the Wednesday following I gave it to the policeman.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. You had been in the habit of seeing this man at your establishment? A. Yes, several times before—I did not know then where he lived; I know now—he came to my house two OF three times after he gave this note, before he was taken into custody, but I did not know he came—I saw him once.

JOHN BOVIS (police sergeant, R 43). I apprehended the prisoner on Wednesday, 16th Jan., at the Duke of Wellington public house, in Woolwich-road—I did not show him the note then—Mr. Stevens, the landlord of the Duke of Wellington, stood behind the bar, and asked him to give an account of the 5l. note he had passed to Mrs. French a few weeks since—he said he got it from Mr. Oliver, an oilman, living in Greenwich-road—he said he had sold him ten gallons of ketchup, at 6s. a gallon, and he took the change home, and gave it to the man who was waiting at his house—I said, "I must take you to the station, and I will make inquiries"—I took him to the station—he was kept there two hours, and I went to the road to make inquiries—I have known Greenwich-road about twentyfour years—I made inquiries for Mr. Oliver—there is no oilman of that name, or any person of that name—I searched the prisoner's house, No. 5, Jane's-row, Miles-street, Trafalgar-road—the prisoner gave me that address—he did not say what rent he paid—I found the house in a very desolate condition, and very little furniture.

Cross-examined. Q. You have known this man many years? A. I had a knowledge of him, but have lost sight of him for the last few years—I searched his house—I did not find any materials for making ketchup.

COURT. Q. Do you know Trafalgar-road? A. Yes—I have known it twenty-four years—I made inquiries there—I could not find any Oliver there, whether oilman or not.

JOSEPH BUMSTED . I am an inspector of notes to the Bank of England—this note is a forgery—it is not the hank plate, nor the paper—it is a bad imitation.

JURY to ANN FRENCH. Q. Do you distinctly recollect marling this particular note at the time you received it? A. Yes, immediately.

COURT. Q. Had you had the misfortune to receive other bad notes? A. No, never before—I did not receive any other note that day.

JURY. Q. Are you sure that he said he was employed by Mr. Oliver? A. Yes, or I should not have changed the note—I did not know there was a Mr. Oliver, but I thought so by what he said.

(The prisoner received a good character.)



Before Russell Gwrney, Esq.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-284
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

284. WILLIAM SAINT , robbery on James Ashley Harsant, and stealing from him a watch, value 5l. his goods.

JAMES ASHLEY HARSANT . I am an engineer—on the morning of 1st Feb., I was at the corner of Stamford-street, Blackfriars, looking at some soldiers—I felt my watch chain break—I looked and saw the chain hanging by my side, and the prisoner's hand was at my pocket—I stooped forward to catch the prisoner, and was pushed back by three or four persons—the prisoner made off—I made an attempt to follow him, but I was kept back by the gang—a few minutes afterwards I went to the railway station, and identified the prisoner there—he was standing, and I pointed him out to the police—I am sure he is the same person whose hand I saw at my pocket at the time I felt the pull.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see me standing by you when you lost your watch? A. I saw you standing when I was surrounded by three or four persons; I saw your hand at my pocket.

Prisoner. I never left the militia man I was talking to, from the City-road to the railway station.

THOMAS CARTER (policeman, L 78). I took the prisoner.

Prisoner. Q. Did I not say I would go to the station, I was quite innocent) A. Yes, you said so.

Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor spoke to me before the constable came up.

JAMES ASHLEY HARSANT re-examined. No; I touched him on the shoulder at the same time that I touched the constable—I said, "You are the person who stole my watch"—I saw him again within twenty minutes.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-285
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

285. JOHN COLLINS and JOSEPH SMITH , unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin: to which

COLLINS PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Nine Months.

MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

ANN RANDALL . My husband keeps the Acorn, in Trinity-street Rotherhithe—on 5th Jan., between 5 and 6 o'clock, the prisoners came to the bar

together—Smith asked for a pint of porter and a short pipe—I served him—he gave me a half crown; I found it bad—Collins then said to Smith, "Mrs. Randall knows me"—I had seen him at the bar—he had worked at the Commercial Dock—I took the half crown from Smith, and kept it—they drank out of the pint of porter, and left half of it on the counter when they went away—I put the half crown in a box where there was no other half crown—I gave it to Roberts the same night—I saw him mark it, and he returned it to me—I kept it till Wednesday, and gave it to him again.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you had many persons in your house on the day the prisoners came? A. A good many—I had taken a good deal of money, coins of all kinds—I had not all that in the till—I had 50l. worth of silver on a tray in the bar parlour—I had not taken all that; I had some from the Bank—we require silver on Saturdays—we have to give some of the contractors silver at the Commercial Dock; they give me notes for it—I had taken a great deal of silver on that day from customers, 4l. or 5l. worth—some of that was put into the till, and the rest into a bag in the bar parlour—the bag might have been on the drawers—I had not put the half crown in the till—I kept it in my hand—there were no other persons in the bar when the prisoners came in—Smith spoke first; I am certain of that—I had seen Collins before, but not Smith—they remained but a few minutes—I am certain it was Smith gave me the half crown—I put it into a box in the bar parlour—there was no other money in the box, only wafers—my daughter saw me put it in—I gave it to the constable about 11 o'clock—no one had been in the bar parlour but my husband and my daughter.

CATHRINE SMITH . I was serving at the Europa public house on 8th Jan.—the two prisoners came there about twenty minutes before 9 o'clock in the evening—I did not see which of the prisoners gave my daughter Emily a piece of money, but I saw it in her hand—I took it out of her hand, and found it was bad—she was going to put it into the till and to give change for half a quartern of gin which she had served to the prisoners; they were drinking it—I took this piece out of her hand, and called Mr. Smith, the landlord—he bit a piece out of it—he told the prisoners it was bad—they said it was not, it was part of their wages the day before—Collins paid 2d. for the gin, and they went away—we did not give them in charge—the piece of money was put on the sideboard and then on the stove in the bar—I gave it to Roberts the constable the next night.

Cross-examined. Q. Which of them said it was out of their'wages? A. Collins—I had never seen either of them before that day—I think I can speak with certainty to Smith—yes, I can swear with certainty to him.

EMILY SMITH . I was serving in the Europa public house on 8th Jan., in the evening—the two prisoners came, and Collins asked for some gin—I served him, and he gave me a half crown—I was going to put it into the till, and mamma came and took it out of my hand, and said it was very bad.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen them before? A. No—I saw them again when they were in custody—we were told we were going to see them—we pointed them out ourselves—I picked Collins out—I was not so sure about Smith—I am not sure about him now.

THOMAS ROBERTS (police sergeant, M 28). On 5th Jan. Mrs. Randall showed me a half crown—it was bad—I marked it, and returned it to her—on the following Wednesday she gave it to me—on 9th Jan. I received this half crown from Mr. Smith—it has a piece bitten out of it.

SARAH TOWNSEND . I am housekeeper at the Gregorian Arms, Bermondsey. On 8th Jan. I saw both the prisoners, between 9 and 10 o'clock—Collins called for a quartern of gin, and gave me half a crown—I bit it, and said it was bad—Collins said nothing, but Smith said he would put it into my eye—I went to the door for a policeman, and the prisoners passed me, went into the street, and went away—they had given me a good half crown—I had put the bad one on a shelf in the bar—I gave it that night to sergeant Thomas.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen them before? A. I think I had seen Collins—I am sure Smith was the other one who was there—he was in the house about three minutes—he did not put anything into my eye—it was Collins asked for the gin, and paid the half crown—I am sure it was Smith who said that—my sister was present—she is not here.

CHARLES THOMAS (police sergeant, M 3). On 8th Jan. I took the prisoners into custody, in Paradise-row, Rotherhithe, between 10 and 11 o'clock—that is about ten minutes' walk from the Gregorian Arms—they were together, arm in arm—I told them I should take them on suspicion of passing counterfeit coin—they replied that they had been out on a spree—I received half a crown that night from Mrs. Townsend—I was at the police court when Emily Smith came down—the prisoners were taken out of the cell with six or eight others—she pointed out the two prisoners.

Cross-examined. Q. Was there not another person you took? A. Yes, Jones was with the prisoners—another officer took him—he was discharged—he is taller than Lynes, which I believe is his name, though he gave the name of Smith—he is about as tall as Collins.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Royal Mint. These three half crowns are counterfeit—the two uttered by Collins are from one mould.

SMITH— GUILTY .** Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-286
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceTransportation; Imprisonment; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

286. JOHN WHITE, MARY WHITE, EDWARD WEBB, JOHN WEST, ELLEN BAKER, JAMES BARRETT , and JAMES HALSWELL , feloniously having in their possession a mould impressed with the obverse and reverse sides of a shilling: to which

JOHN WHITE PLEADED GUILTY .*— Transported for Fourteen Years.


MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BRANNAN , Sen. (police inspector, G). On Saturday, 26th Jan., in consequence of information, I went to No. 20, Revell's-row, Southwark, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, in company with other officers; some were in uniform, and some in plain clothes—the door was fastened, the officer, Nevill, broke it open—there is only one room on the ground floor, and one up stairs—we went up stairs—the room door was fastened, Nevill forced it open—I entered the room with some other constables—I found John White sitting near a table, near a clear fire, Mary White, and Ellen Baker were likewise close to the fire—the other prisoners were sitting on a bed at the table, Halswell was sitting behind them—they all surrounded the table except Halswell, who sat at the back—at that time I saw the prisoners jump up, and John White had in his left hand a plaster of Paris mould, which he threw on the floor and stamped on it—Mary White took from the table a handful of half crowns and shillings, and threw them on the fire—there was a pipkin on the fire containing metal—Nevill seized John White, and a desperate struggle ensued; all the prisoners, except Halswell, attempting to destroy what was on the table—Thomas Evans seized Mary White, and

palled her away from the table, and at the same time I saw Edward Webb rubbing a shilling between his thumb and finger with sand and water from this saucepan lid (producing it)—he threw the shilling into the fire—he was then seized by James Brannan, and put in the other end of the room—after some considerable difficulty, we succeeded in getting them all away from the table and the fire, and putting them in the other part of the room—I called up Benjamin Bryant, whom I had left down stairs, to our assistance, as the prisoners were so violent—after we had got the prisoners to another part of the room, we commenced searching—I picked up this portion of the mould which I saw John White throw from his hand, and there were in it a half crown and a shilling—they were so hot I could not hold them in my hand, and the get was attached to them—I saw the pipkin taken off the fire by Thomas Evans, and it was put in a basin of water to cool—it contained white metal in a fused state, and in it there is a portion of a shilling which was thrown into it, either by Mary White or the others—I found also a galvanic battery charged, on the table, with a 4d. piece in it, and two files, with white metal in their teeth—I found three half crowns finished, bearing the same date with the one in the mould, of the reign of George the Third—I found a knife and scissars on the table with plaster of Paris on them—I found this ladle on the hob with white metal in it in a fused state, and in the cupboard I found plaster of Paris in powder—I succeeded in taking all the prisoners into custody, but I was obliged to send to the station for assistance—I had seven other constables—when I first saw John White I said to him, "I have come to pay you another visit, Mr. White"—he said, "I cannot help it, Mr. Brannan."

JAMES NEVILL (policeman, G 152). On Saturday, 26th Jan., I went to the house No. 20, Revell's-row, South wark—I broke open the street door, and went up stairs to the first floor room—I broke open that door, and on entering the room I saw John White, Mary White, and Ellen Baker jump up from their seats, which were close by the table, and John White threw from his left hand a plaster of Paris mould which he trampled on—I seized him, and when I was struggling with him, I saw Mary White and Ellen Baker take some counterfeit coin from the table and throw it on the fire—Thomas Evans took Mary White into custody—I took John White to the further corner of the room—Mary White was crying very much at the time—I saw all the prisoners—they all tried to upset the table except Halswell—I did not see him do anything.

THOMAS EVANS (policeman, G 145). On 26th Jan., I accompanied the other witnesses to the house—I went into the upper room—I saw Mary White throw a handfull of coin in the fire—I immediately seized her, took her to the further end of the room, gave her in charge, and assisted in searching the room—I found at the foot of the bed where West and Webb had been sitting, this counterfeit shilling of George the Third—I took this pipkin off the fire—I took from the top of the fire a half crown, part of a half crown, and another in the ashes, which had passed through the fire—I saw several half crowns and shillings on the fire—I raked the ashes out, and under the grate I found this white metal—I found this iron ladle—I heard Halswell say at the police station, "I should not have been there, if I had had any money," and I heard Barrett say, "I suppose this is a four year's penal"

JAMES BRANNAN , Jun. (police sergeant, G 21). I went with the other officers to the house on 26th Jan.—I went to the upper room, and saw the officers and the whole of the prisoners in a desperate struggle—the prisoner

appeared as if they wished to clear everything off the table, except Halswell, who seemed to be confounded—Edward Webb had some wet sand in his hand—I called the attention of inspector Brannan to it—Webb said, "I can play with wet mud if I like, can't I?"—I seized Ellen Baker, who attempted to escape, and just by where she had been first standing, I picked up this 2s. piece which I produce—I handcuffed Webb and West together.

BENJAMIN BRYANT (police sergeant, G 22). I accompanied the other officers to the house on 26th Jan. I remained below at the street door—while there, I was called by inspector Brannan—I went up, and found the whole of the officers struggling with the prisoners—West and Barrett were making their way to the table—with some difficulty, I got them back to the corner of the room—I gave West to serjeant Brannan—I handcuffed Barrett and Webb, and West said something to him which I could not hear—Barrett said, "It is an unfortunate job; I wish I had not been here."

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This fragment is part of a plaster of Paris mould for a half crown piece—these others are part of the mould of a shilling—this half crown is from this mould; it has the get to it—five of these other half crowns are all made in this mould; they are finished, and the get taken off—this shilling is from this mould, and part of the get is remaining to it—this white metal is what is used for making the coin—this is a galvanic battery, which is used for plating the coin with silver—this 4d. piece was used to precipitate the silver on the coin—this wet sand is used to polish the pieces before they are plated—this metal has passed through the fire; it has been made into coins, and they have melted in the fire—these files are to get off the get.

Webb's Defence, I went to White's, and asked them if they would have a drop of something to drink? they said, "No;" I took a shilling out of my pocket, and in the struggle it was, I believe, thrown on the fire or in the pipkin.

West's Defence. I went to the house to ask them to lend me a ten board, which they did; I went there innocently to return it; lam innocent of knowing anything about the money; if I had had any idea of this, I should never have entered the house.

Baker's Defence. I called with some buttons to sell; Mrs. White said, "Come in;" she asked me to have a drop of beer; I said I did not mind; I went in, and sat down on the side of the bedstead; I had not been there ten minutes, before the door was biuot open; I saw and knew nothing of that was going forward; the officers said to me, "Where do you come from? I said, "I come from her invitation;" they took my shawl off, and my bonnet, and searched me in the room; I am perfectly innocent; I had not been in the house above five minutes; Mr. Brannan took my basket with the buttons in it.

Barrett's Defence. At five minutes to 2 o'clock I was in the Borough-road; I went down to Mr. White's, and saw Halswell going in with a pot of beer; I went in, and asked John White whether he could mend my trowsers; he said, "Bring them to morrow, and I will do them;" I asked him for a bit of tobacco, which he gave me, and as I was lighting my pipe the officers came in; it is a very serious case, I hope you will look into it; I was lighting my pipe and going down stairs when I was taken.

Haiswell's Defence. I was in the street, and a man said, "Will you take a pot of beer to Revell's-row? you will get a drink;" I said that I had no objection; we were drinking the pot of beer; the can was not empty when

the officers came; I was quite stupified, I stood with my hands in my pocket; the officers said, "I suppose you would not have been there if you had had any money;" I said, "No."

WEBB— GUILTY . Aged 24.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

WEST— GUILTY . Aged 26.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

BAKER— GUILTY .* Aged 40.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

BARRETT— GUILTY .** Aged 23.— Six Years Penal Servitude.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-287
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

287. SAMUEL STRATTON , unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES FRANCIS LOWE . I manage the Pagoda public house, in Bermondsey New-road. On Wednesday, 9th Jan., the prisoner came between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I served him with half a pint of porter, he gave me a half crown—I examined it and found it bad—I told him it was bad, and asked him where he got it—he said he received it for loading ballast at the South Eastern Railway—I marked the half crown, but did not give the prisoner in charge—I gave the half crown afterwards to the officer.

JAMES WARREN (policeman, M 222). On 9th Jan. I was sent for to the Pagoda tavern, in Bermondsey New-road, I saw the prisoner—he was not given in charge—I saw the half crown marked—it was given to me on the following Saturday—this is it.

PHCEBE MARTIN . My husband keeps a grocer's shop in Jamaica-row. On 9th Jan. the prisoner came about 7 o'clock in the evening—I served him with half an ounce of tea, and quarter of a pound of sugar—he gave me half a crown—I gave it to my husband—the prisoner was given into custody.

JOSEPH EDWARD MARTIN . On 9th Jan. my wife gave me a half crown—I saw the prisoner in the shop—I examined the half crown, and told the prisoner it was bad, and asked where he got it—he said he had been working on a barge on the Thames, and received it for his day's work—I sent for a constable, and gave him into custody.

WILLIAM SOUNDERS (policeman, M 224). I took the prisoner, and received this half crown from the last witness—I found on the prisoner 4 1/2 d. in copper.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These half crowns are both bad, and both struck from the same die.

Prisoner. I was not aware the money was bad, my cousin gave it to me; I called in the public house for half a pint of beer, and they kept the half crown; I went to my sister to show her the other half crown; I then called for these things, and was taken.

GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Nine Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-288
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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288. JAMES MORRIS , feloniously marrying Mary Ann Rye, his wife being alive: to which he

PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 31.— Confined Twelve Months.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-289
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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289. JOHN ATTWOOD , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of James Bottomley, at Wandsworth, and stealing therein 2 loaves and 2l. 4s. 3d. in money; his property.

CHARLES SIMPKIN (policeman, V 120). On 3rd Feb. I was on duty, and as I passed Mr. Bottoraley's shop I saw the prisoner's legs coming out of the window—when I got within ten yards of him, he saw me, and made off

—I took him without losing eight of him, and took him to the station—I then went back to the house, and found a pane of glass broken within reach of the catch of the window, and found two peony loaves—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found three half crowns, a shilling, and a 4d. piece, and in his boot half a sovereign, and in his stockings half a sovereign and six half crowns—as I took him to the station he said, "I have done it this time."

MARY BOTTOMLEY . I am the wife of John Bottomley, and keep a chandler's shop in Garrod's-lane. Last Saturday night I went to bed about 11 o'clock—the house was properly fastened, and the window was fastened by the catch—I was called up after 3 o'clock in the morning, and missed from this purse, which was in a cupboard, two half sovereigns and six half crowns—there had been two small loaves in the window, which were gone—the prisoner lives just by me.

Prisoner's Defence. I was going home, and the door was fastened; I did not like to call my parents up; I took a walk, and saw a policeman behind me, and ran; he caught me, and charged me with the robbery, but I am innocent of it.


The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.

THOMAS OAKLEY (policeman, V 190). I produce a certificate—(Read: Surrey Sessions—John Attwood, convicted March, 1855, and confined three months)—I was present—the prisoner is the person.)

GUILTY.** Aged 19.— Four Years Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Recorder.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-290
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

290. ISAAC REPATH , feloniously uttering a forged 5l. note, with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. BAILEY and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.

JANE BEALE . My father is a carpenter—he lives at No. 35, Hill-street, Friar-street, Blackfriars-road. On 2nd Jan. the prisoner came to our house about 6 o'clock in the evening—he asked if my father or mother were at home—I had seen the prisoner three or four years ago—I called my father, and he called the prisoner into the front room—I did not hear much of the conversation, but I heard the prisoner say bis father was in the hospital at Scutari with the diarrhoea, and he himself was wounded in the thigh—he gave me this 5l. note (looking at it)—I took it to Mr. Lewis, a cheesemonger—I saw him put my mother's name and address on it—he gave me the change—I took it back, and gave it to the prisoner, except the 4d. for the gin—the prisoner counted it, and shortly after he left the house, saying he should call again in two or three days, which he did not.

HENRY JAMES LEWIS . I am a cheesemonger, and live in Great Suffolk-street. On 2nd Jan. the last witness brought me this note—I gave her change for it—I wrote her mother's name and her address on the back of the note—I paid it away in the course of business, and it was returned, marked "Forged."

EMMA BROWN . I am a washerwoman, and reside at No. 2, John-street, St. George's in the East. On 20th Nov., between 11 and 12 o'clock, the prisoner came to the house—I was ironing down stairs at the time he knocked—my landlady opened the door to him—he put his two knees on the threshold of the door, and said to her, "Halloo, how are you?"—she said, "I don't know you"—he said, "Don't you know Repath?"—"Oh, yes," she said, "your father owes me 16s."—she said, "Come in"—he said, "I ought to have called before; my father has sent me home 10l. from the rimea; half is for my mother in law and half is for me"—he then pulled a

5l. note out of his pocket, and said, "Will you get me change? and I will do what I can for you; how much is it my father owes you?"—I took the note, and went to get change—where I took it first, the man did not like the appearance of it—I brought it back, and the prisoner gave me a shilling out of his pocket to pay for some gin—he said, "You must get me change; I want to pay Mrs. Catlin 16s."—I took the note to Mr. Browning, a baker, he gave me five sovereigns for it—I asked him for change for one of the sovereigns—he gave me 1l. worth of silver and four sovereigns—I brought it to the prisoner—he never stopped to count it, but put it into his pocket—he said he would call in half an hour or an hour, he wanted to go to Mr. Truffen to see what his father owed there—he did not return.

GEORGE BROWNING . I live in Charles-street, St. George's in the East, and, am a baker. On 20th Nov. the last witness brought me this note (looking at it), and knowing her, I gave her change for it—I wrote her name, "Mrs. Brown," on it, which is on it now—I paid it into my bankers on 27th Nov., and received it back on the 29th, marked "Forged."

ANN ANDREWS . I am the wife of William Andrews; he is a carpenter, and lives at No. 29, New-street, Blackfriars-road. On Christmas day the prisoner called on me, about ten minutes past 5 o'clock in the evening—I went to the door to him—he asked if he could see my husband—I told him he was asleep, he could not see him—he said he wished very much to see my husband, his father owed him a few shillings, and he wished to pay him, as his father wished him to do so—he said his father was wounded, and was in the hospital at Scutari—he seemed to be in great trouble about his father's injury—he said he should like to come in and wait till my husband awoke—I asked him to come in, and he laid his head on the the table, and cried very loud, apparently, and took his handkerchief out of his pocket—he asked if I would take anything to drink—I said, "No, I do not want anything"—he said he felt very ill, and would I oblige him by getting something for him—he said he had come home in the Queen of the South, from the Crimes, and he had only been at home two days—he had a note in his hand, and said, "Thank God, I am not short of money; my father has given me three of these to bring home with me"—he said his father was very much wounded, and he still wished to have something to drink, and to have the note changed—he asked me to get him some beer, and get the note changed—I said, "Have you not halfpence enough to pay for it?"—he said, "No," he bad only 1 1/2 d.—I took the note to Mr. Boag, who keeps the Crown public house—I laid it on the counter, and Mrs. Boag took it, and went into her parlour, and came back with change—she gave me the full change, all but 5d. for the beer—she had asked me to write my name on the note, which I did—this is it, here is "Ann Andrews, 29, New-street" on it—I took the beer and the change to my house, the prisoner took the change and put it into his pocket—I told him to take care of his money, fearing he might lose it—he told me he was stopping at his stepmother's, and I told him he had better take it there for her to take care of it for him—he drank some of the beer, and went away, and said he would call on the following day—he did not do so.

SARAH BOAG . My husband keeps the Crown public house in the New Cut. On Christmas day the last witness brought this 5l. note to me—I saw her write her name on it—I passed it away on the following day.

FANNY HIGGS . I am the daughter of Mrs. Repath, the prisoner's step mother.—On Saturday, 29th Dec., the prisoner came to her house about 5 o'clock in the evening—he said he had come from Plymouth—he had

been in the army before he called on us—the first time I saw him he was in regimentals—he had been in the Rifle Brigade—on that afternoon we had him in, and had a general conversation—after that he said he would call the next day about the same time, but he did not.

Q. Did he on that evening ask your mother, Mrs. Repath, whether she would have anything to drink? A. Yes, and she refused it—after that he asked my little brother whether he would go and get some gin for him, and he gave my brother what appeared to be a 10l. note—this is the note; here is my handwriting upon it—"Fanny Higgs, 13, China-walk, Lambeth"—the prisoner said his uncle Robert at Plymouth had behaved very handsomely to him—in a few minutes, I took the note and went to get the gin for the prisoner—I gave the 10l. note, and received the change from Mr. Messenger at the Cock and Bottle in China-walk, and at Mr. Messenger's request I wrote my name and address on the back of the note I received from the prisoner—I went home with the gin, and gave the change to the prisoner—he counted it, and asked why I had been so long, if I had had a trouble to get the change—there was a mistake in the change at first, Mr. Messenger had given me a shilling too much, and it was counted again—I told the prisoner what trouble I had had—when I got back with the gin and the change, there was a young man with the prisoner inside, and there was another man outside the door likewise waiting for the prisoner—I went to call the man in, and the prisoner stepped before me and called him in—my mother asked him to sit down, but he refused—he said to the prisoner's friend, "You know where I have got to be at 7 o'clock"—the three men all left the house together in about three minutes afterwards—just as the prisoner was leaving, he said he would come about the same time the next day, but he did not—I did not see him afterwards till he was in custody at the police court—on the following Monday the note was returned marked "Forged."

Prisoner. Q. You say that I gave your brother the 10l. note? A. Yes—I did not take it from him—you put it into your pocket again—you afterwards gave it to me, and said you would not trust him with it.

JAMES M'NTOSH . I am inspector of the M division of police. On 22nd Jan., in consequence of information, I went to Chatham barracks—I inquired for John White—I was conducted to the adjutant's room, and the prisoner was brought in—I said to him, "I am a police officer, from London; I come for you, for passing a forged 5l. note to Jane Beale, also one to Mrs. Andrews, and a 10l., note to Fanny Higgs"—he said, "I am not the man," and in a minute afterwards he said, "You have made a pretty mistake this time"—I said, "No, no mistake; from the description I have got of you, you are the man; I will take you to London upon that charge"—I and the prisoner were then taken to the commanding officer's room—I explained my business to the commanding officer—he said to the prisoner, "You hear what he says"—the prisoner said, "Yes; I am the man"—the prisoner war then given over to me, and I took him to Rochester—we had to wait nearly two hours for a train—we went into a public house, and, while sitting there, the prisoner said, "Well, I have got myself into a pretty mess through other people; I hope you will take the man that gave me the notes"—he gave me a name and address, which turned out to be false, the name of John or George Smith, No. 7, Wade-street, Poplar—he said Smith told him he had stolen the notes from bis father, and he gave them to him to pass, and he was to have 5s. for passing the 5l. notes, and 10s. for passing the 10l. notes—I took the prisoner to London, and I went to No. 7, Wade-street,

Poplar—I could find no Smith; no one of that name—there are two lodgers there, but no one has changed for twenty-one months—I found on the prisoner one sovereign—while he was in the adjutant's room, I produced a Gazette, relating to a deserter from the Rifle Brigade, who deserted at Portsmouth, on 10th Nov., 1855—I read it to the prisoner—he did not say anything then, but when we got to the commanding officer's room T requested the prisoner to get his uniform off; I would sooner take him hi private clothes—the quarter-master said there were some clothes of his—the prisoner said, "I don't want them; I only had them to desert in; I had them when I deserted from the Rifle Brigade."

JOSEPH BUMSTED . I am inspector of notes at the Bank of England. These notes are all forged in every respect, in paper and print—the engraving is good, but the paper is very bad—these 5l. notes are all from the same plate.

JURY. Q. Is there anything to distinguish between these and good notes? A. Nothing that can be discovered by the naked eye.

JOHN ROWLAND GIBBS . I am surgeon of Newgate. I examined the prisoner yesterday—I found no wound on his thigh, or anywhere, nor the trace of any wound.

Prisoner's Defence. About a month before Christmas I was passing Limehouse Church; I met a young man who worked with my father, two years ago, in the East India Docks; he asked me to have something to drink, and I went and had some gin; he told me he had robbed his father of 30l. in notes, and he asked me to change a 5l. note for him, which I did; I took it to John-street, and got change, and he gave me 5s., and some more gin; he asked me where he could find me; I told him, at the George public house; he came to me, gave me another 5l. note, and gave me 5s. for getting it changed.

GUILTY . Aged 19.— Eight Years Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Justice Wightman.

4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-291
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

291. JOHN VAUGHAN was indicted for feloniously inserting in the register of burials of St. Matthew, Brixton, a false entry relating to the burial of Jane Webb.


the Prosecution.

ANN WEBB . I live at No. 53, Park-place, Park-road, Clapham. I am the daughter of the late Jane Webb, who lived at the same place—she died on 6th June last at No. 53, Park-place, Park-road, Clapham—we went there about March, the March before she died—before that we lived in Park-crescent; that is in Clapham parish—she had lived there two years—before that she lived in Manor-street, Clapham, in the parish of Clapham—I was present when my mother died—I attended her funeral—she was buried at St. Matthew's Church, Brixton—Plummer was employed as the undertaker.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Who recommended Plummer to you? A. Not any one in particular—we had no reason whatever for going to him—we merely knew that he was an undertaker, and went to him.

MARY ANN WEBB . I am a daughter of the late Jane Webb. I was not with her when she died—I was with her within an hour of her death—I went to the registrar of the district, Mr. Frost, and gave him certain information with regard to my mother's death—after I had done so, he gave me

a piece of paper, which I gave to Plummer, the undertaker—Plummer was at that time the parish clerk of St. Matthew's, Brixton, and an undertaker; he conducted my mother's funeral—I did not pay him any money for fees, I paid the bill altogether, when everything was settled—the fees were all cast up together, I think it was 1l. 16s.;—I have the account here (producing it)—I paid it after the funeral—I attended the funeral, it was at St. Matthew's, Brixton—it was on Monday, 11th June; the Rev. George Eastman, the curate, performed the service.

JAMES FROST . I am the registrar of the births, deaths, and marriages, in the Clapham district I know Park-place, Park-road, Clapham, very well; that is in my district (referring to a book)—I registered the death of Jane Webb, on 9th June, 1855—this book states the place where the party died—the certificate does not—this entry in the book was made at the time—the residence of the deceased is described here as No. 53, Park-place, Park-road—I gave a copy of the register, a certificate of the death, to Elizabeth Beck, the party that registered the death—I cannot recollect whether two persons came, it is so long back.

Crou-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. In your book you insert, among other things, the place of abode of the party? A. The place they die at, the place where they were abiding at the time of death—in my certificate I do not insert the place of abode at the time of death—this is a duplicate of the certificate I give (producing one)—it is a printed form with blanks, which we fill up according to the circumstances of the case; we have them in books—Park-place is within my district—it used to be called Acre-lane, but it is called Park-road now—I think the name was altered about fifteen or sixteen years back—Park-place leads out of Park-road—they call the whole of Acre-lane, Park-road—the name is stuck up at the end—some of the old people still call it Acre-lane, but very few indeed now—it is about a quarter of a mile long—Park-road is divided into six or seven different streets, Park-place is one of them, and is within that quarter of a mile—part of what was called Acre-lane is in Lambeth parish—I am not aware whether that would be within the district of St. Matthew, Brixton, it would be out of my district.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Is Park-place in the pariah of Clapham? A. Yes—it was never any portion of the district of St. Matthew's, Brixton.

COURT. Q. Is there a separate district of St. Matthew's, Brixton? A. I am not aware.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Your district is confined to the parish of Clapham? A. Only for births and deaths—I have the whole of Clapham parish in my district—that defines the boundary of my district as registrar of births and deaths.

MART ANN WEBB re-examined. Elizabeth Beck went with me to get the undertaker's certificate—she was present at the death—I received the certificate from her.

JOHN WILLIAM PLUMMER . I am an undertaker—I was until recently the parish clerk of St. Matthew, Brixton. I was employed as undertaker to bury Jane Webb on 11th June last—she was buried from Park-place, Park-road, Clapham—that is not within the district of St. Matthew's, Brixton, it is in the Clapham district—I received a certificate on that occasion I believe from one of the relatives—I could not say whether it was Mary Ann Webb or one of the others; there were several at the house at the time—(Mary Ann Webb—"I handed the certificate I got from Mr. Frost to this witness on the Sunday evening")—I gave that certificate to Malby, the

sexton, outside the Church gate on the following Monday morning—I think I received it on the Sunday afternoon when I went to screw the coffin down—I gave it to Malby the next day—on that occasion I paid him some fees—I paid him 1l. 15s.; those were double fees—I paid him double fees because it was out of the district—I believe the burial took place on the Monday afternoon, the same Monday that I paid him in the morning—Mr. Eastman performed the service—the double fees I paid to Malby extended to mine as well as the minister's—I deducted the 3s. 4d., which was my fee, from it before I paid him—I saw Dr. Vaughan on the morning of the day on which I paid Malby the fees, on the Monday—there was a wedding or two weddings—I saw him in the vestry—I saw Malby pay him some money, but I am not able to say what amount—I believe there was not any other funeral on that day, not to my knowledge—there was a wedding and I think there were two, but I know there was a wedding that morning—at the time I saw Malby hand Dr. Vaughan some money, there was Dr. Vaughan, myself, and Malby alone in the vestry; no one else was there—I saw the money handed to Dr. Vaughan and the certi-ficate—I could not say whether Malby gave it to him, but I know that the certificate was given to Dr. Vaughau—I saw it, and I likewise put it on the file—I saw it in Dr. Vaughan's hands, and saw him enter it in the rough book—that was the registrar's certificate—this (produced) is the rough book—this entry is in Dr. Vaughan's handwriting—"Jane Webb, Acre-lane, 65 years. G. E.," Mr. Eastman's initials, and "6s." against it—there is a date, "11th June"—the "G. E." is in Mr. Eastman's handwriting.

Court. Q. You saw him enter it in the rough book, how much of that is Dr. Vaughan's writing? A. The "11" is, also "Jane Webb, Acre-lane, 65 years."

MR. SERJEAKT WILKINS . Q. And the 6s., whose writing is that? A. Well, it looks like Dr. Vaughau's, but I should not like to say positively it was—the 6s. comes after the "G. R"—the "G. E." is Mr. Eastman's handwriting, I cannot say whose the "6s." is—6s. is a single ground fee—I am quite sure that "Acre-lane "is in the handwriting of Dr. Vaughan—I have seen the book since then, before I came here—I do not remember when my attention was first called to that entry—the certificate was handed to me, and I put it on the file at Dr. Vaughan's request—he handed it to me, and I put it on the file by his desire (looking at a file produced)—if this is the same file that those certificates were on, this was the file—it was such a file as this certainly—I have received my account from the relatives since—this is it (looking at it).

Q. I find in this account, "Paid dues at Brixton Church, 2l. 1s. 6d.;," what is the meaning of that? A. There was turfing the grave—Mrs. White, the pew opener, was paid half a crown by Dr. Vaughan's orders, and the bell and two or three other things—I have got the full account in Malby's handwriting at home—I paid for the bell, 2s., turfing the grave, 4s., grave digger, 1s.—I do not know what the items were, but I have got the full account of it in Malby's handwriting at home.

COURT. Q. But you were the man that paid? A. Yes; I did pay Malby, the sexton, for it.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Can you tell me from your recollection what that 2l. 1s. 6d. was for? A. There was 1l. 15s. for the double fees.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You are not the parish clerk of St. Matthew's, Brixton now? A. No; I think I became clerk in Aug.—I think it was Aug. or Sept.—my father was clerk before me; he died

on 17th Apnl, 1855—I never got a regular appointment—I was allowed to go on—I was tnere in Aug. or Sept, 1854, in consequence of my father's illness—I acted for my father during his illness—I continued to officiate as clerk after my father's death, without any regular appointment—Dr. Vaughan went abroad, I think, in Aug., 1855.

Q. Before that time, I think he had occasion, I do not say whether rightly or wrongly, to find fault with you, in more than one instance? A. Not to my recollection—he never did find fault with me—he dismissed me in Sept., 1855—I will give you the date (referring to a memorandum), Sept. 6th—my father carried on the business of an undertaker before me, and I went on with that business while I was officiating as parish clerk—I continue to act as an undertaker now.

COURT. Q. How old are you? A. Eighteen.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Eighteen are you? A. Hardly eighteen—when this matter first came to be talked about, there was a good deal of excitement in the parish about it; there were meetings held, and a good deal of angry talking, and hand bills were circulated about the parish (looking at a hand bill)—I did not stick such hand bills as this about the parish—I will take my oath I did not stick about such hand bills as this—I did stick about some hand bills near the Doctor's house; one just opposite—they were left by Mr. Edwards, one of the churchwardens, at Mr. Eastman's—I was not there when Mr. Edwards left them—I got them from Mr. Eastman, Dr. Vaughan's curate—I do not know that the Doctor and his curate had not been on good terms before this—I did not hear anything about it at all—it was between 9 and 10 o'clock on the Monday morning that I paid these fees to Malby, outside the Church gate—a wedding was going on at the Church at the time—I think there were two—Malby was always there at weddings; he had to open the Church—this was outside the Church—Malby told me what the amount of the fees was, and I paid it—he gave me an account, and I have got it, but I have not brought it with, me—I did not know that it was required, or else I am sure I would have brought it—I was asked about the account at the police office—I never gave it a thought about bringing it here—I did not think it was necessary, although it was inquired about there—I paid him altogether the same as the bill states; I think it was 2l. 6s. 6d.—I do not remember in what sort of money I paid it—it was before the wedding was over—Dr. Vaughan officiated at the wedding—Malby had the certificate when I paid the fees—I handed it to Malby when I paid him the fees—I think I had mentioned the funeral to Malby on the Sunday—I really do not know whether I did; I really cannot tell—I had seen him before Monday morning.

COURT. Q. Had you told the sexton there was to be a funeral? A. Well, I had mentioned it to him, I know I had.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Had you,; will you swear that? A. Well, I would not swear positively whether I had or not, I really do not remember it—I do not remember whether I did or not, but I fancy I did mention it to him, that I had got a funeral to take place at the Church—I do not know that I told him whose funeral it was—he was perfectly aware where it came from when I paid him the fees—I do not remember whether I told him about the funeral or not on the Sunday—how can I tell you a thing I do not remember?—I am sure I cannot recollect whether I held any communication with Malby before the Monday morning, upon the subject of this funeral—it was before the wedding that I went into the vestry withi Dr. Vaughan—I saw Malby pay the money, but I did not see the certificate

passed—I saw the certificate, and I handed it myself, by Dr. Vaughan's orders, and put it on the file—I had handed the certificate to Malby outside the gate, so I saw it before I went in there.

COURT. Q. Did you and Malby walk in there immediately? A. Yes; we followed Dr. Vaughan into the vestry—that was immediately after I had given it.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Was your attention further directed to it after you got into the vestry, until Dr. Vaughan gave it you, and told you to put it on the file? A. No; it was not—I do not know whether the doctor took up the rough book or not, he made the entry—when we got in Malby might have said there was a funeral out of the district, or something of the kind, but I did not hear exactly—I do not know whether he did say so or not, but of course Dr. Vaughan must have known it was out of the district by the money that was paid—I remember Dr. Vaughan asking me whether I had allowed half a crown for the pew opener, and I told him I had—it is no good my saying I do remember anything that was said when we first got into the vestry, for I do not remember—I cannot remember who began the conversation, who took part in it, or anything that was said—I remember the certificate being given to me—I do not know that anybody mentioned anything about Acre-lane—I do not remember whether Malby mentioned Acre-lane—I do not think Malby mentioned Acre-lane, as the place from which the funeral had come—I will not swear anything—I did not notice at the time what the doctor wrote in the rough book—I mentioned it, perhaps, about a month or so afterwards, to Mr. Eastman, one Sunday afternoon; I mentioned that it was put down "Acre-lane"—I looked in the book and saw it on that Sunday afternoon—I looked in the book because I found there were two or three funerals out of the district, and I had only received my single fees for it instead of double; so I taxed Malby with it, and he did not give me any answer, and I looked at the book to see what was put down to the churchwardens, and so I found out what was in it—that was when the doctor was in France; it was after Mrs. Harrison, and her son in law, Mr. Meynell, had come to complain of having been charged double fees, or that there had been an incorrect entry made—I was not present when Malby begged them to take back the difference, but I heard of it—it was not after I heard of that that I went and looked at the book; I think it was previous to that—it was their coming to make the complaint that first caused the inquiry.

COURT. Q. Had you looked at the book before or after; which, because you have said both? A. Looked at the book, what for, Sir!

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. I did not say a word about what for, I asked you whether you had looked at this rough book? A. Oh! I had looked at it a good many times.

Q. But looked at it with reference to these out district funerals? A. I looked at it a good many times after Mrs. Harrison came.

COURT. Q. Was it after Mrs. Harrison came that you went to look at the book, with reference to these entries? A. Well, I do not know—I have looked at the book a good many times—I have seen the book both before and after Mrs. Harrison came.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Pray did the book always lie open on the vestry table? A. Yes, it did, where the churchwardens or anybody else could look at it—Malby and I had a running account for fees—we never settled them at a public house—it has gone on for longer than a month—the 2s. 6d. which the Doctor said the pew opener was to have, was for the out district

funerals, that was not to come off my fees, it was an extra thing, the parties had to pay it themselves—I paid it and charged it to them—I got double fees for out district funerals, when they were my own funerals, and when I could not be deceived by it—I do not know as Malby ever acted dishonestly with me, if he did with any one else—the fees were always paid to Malby as far as I know—it would be Malby's business to hand over to me the fees that were due to me, and I looked to him for the money—I kept a sort of running account with him, he never used to pay me after the funeral was over—I did not know at that time that the churchwardens were objecting to having so many funerals from the outlying districts—I will swear I never posted one of the handbills that you put into my hand—I posted some on a Sunday, but not of that kind—I went about in a cart posting them—I received orders from the churchwardens to post the bills, from Mr. Eastman—the first bills that were posted were left—no—the bills were left at my house, and I had to go to Mr. Eastman's the next morning to receive directions where to post them, Mr. Edwards was there at the time—I did not receive instructions from Mr. Eastman to go and poet these bills on a Sunday, but when I found that the bills were pulled down on a Saturday night, I thought I had better put them up the next morning, which I did; so I went about on the Sunday morning posting them up again.

MR; SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Is that the bill you posted (handing one to the witness)? A. Yes, it is one of them, that was the first bill I posted; (looking at another) this is one that I posted—I think I posted altogether three lots, or it might have been four—I do not know whether that might have been the second or not, at all events I posted that one—the bills I posted announced a public meeting of the inhabitants—that was the object of the bills—(These bills being read, announced that meetings were to be held on 20th Sept., and 22nd Oct., respectively)—meetings took place upon these, and a committee was appointed—I believe I know who the members of the committee were—they were some of the most respectable inhabitants of the district—one of the committee was Mr. Evans, a friend of the incumbent—I was present at all of the meetings—Dr. Vaughan sanctioned my officiating as clerk after my father's death—he removed me on 6th Sept, 1855.

Q. What reason did he assign for so doing? A. Will you allow me to read his letter, it is in his own handwriting, it is dated 6th Sept., after he came back from Paris—(Read: "Tulse-hill, Sept. 6, 1855. The Rev. Dr. Vaughan begs to inform Mr. J. Plummer that, in consequence of his late mysterious conduct, and great disrespect to him as Incumbent, he hat this day duly appointed a qualified and competent person to perform the duties of parish clerk of St. Matthew's, Brixton. To Mr. J. Plummer.")—he never explained to me what the mysterious conduct was—I had never behaved disrespectfully to him in my life that I know of—I certainly assisted in inspecting the books during his absence in Paris, by the churchwardens' orders—I never recollect his having found fault with me during the whole time I was in office.

Q. I want you to explain a little more fully what actually took place on the Monday when you paid Malby the money; I understand you to say that you met Malby at the church gates on that morning? A. Yes—we stood there waiting for Dr. Vaughan at the church gates—when Dr. Vaughan came, he walked through into the vestry—Malby and I followed him—there was no one with him when we got into the vestry, I sat down filling up the heading in the marriage book—I believe that marriage book is here—whilst I was filling up the heading in the marriage book Dr. Vaughan

and Malby were settling about these fees; Malby was paying them to Dr. Vaughan—I saw him hand some money, but I could not say what amount it was.

Q. As far as your memory goes, was there or was there not one word said about Acre-lane by anybody? A. I believe not, I have not the slightest recollection of anything of the sort—I handed the certificate to Malby that same morning—after I had given it to Malby, I next saw it in Dr. Vaughan's hand—he told me to put it on the file—the rough book was there.

Q. Had anything been written in the rough book before you put it on the file? A. No: yes, it had—Dr. Vaughan made an entry in the rough book at the time—I did not see the entry, but I saw him writing—I certainly saw him writing, in the act of writing.

COURT. Q. You saw Dr. Vaughan write in the rough book before he told you to put the certificate on the file? A. Yes.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. I did not catch exactly what you said just now about the occasions upon which the pew opener received half a crown, upon what occasions were those? A. It was when a funeral was out of the district, and also it was written on the rules of the church by Dr. Vaughan that when there was a vault funeral she was to have half a crown—it was not mentioned in the rules that she was to have half a crown for an out district funeral, but he said to me that monring, "Plummer, I hope you have allowed Mrs. White half a crown"—I said I had, and he said, "Oh, that is right, John"—this was not a vault funeral—it was only in vault funerals and out district funerals that Mrs. White was to be paid half a crown, but I never had an instance of it before, not out of the district.

COURT. Q. All that the Doctor said was, "I hope you have allowed Mrs. White half a crown? A. Yes—she was allowed something when a person in the district was buried, when it was a vault funeral—I do not know anything further than that what Dr. Vaughan said on this occasion was, "You have allowed Mrs. White half a crown?" or "I hope you have allowed Mrs. White half a crown?" something like that—I said, "I have, Sir," and he said, "That is right, John"—that was all that I heard him say, at least all that I noticed.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Is not a portion of Acre-lane in the Clapham district, and a Portion in St. Matthew's? A. It is.

MR. SERJEANT WILKJNS. Q. Do those portions adjoin each other? A. Yes they do—the boundary of Clapham ends at the corner of Park-road, Clapham-park, and opposite Bedford-road—one side of Bedford-road which lies on the right, the right hand side, is in the Brixton district, and the opposite side, and likewise both the sides on the left are in Clapham—Parkplace is about a quarter of a mile from the boundary, or rather more I should say.

GEORGE MALBY . I was the sexton of the district parish of St. Matthew, Brixton. I became sexton about four years ago I think, two years as sexton and two years deputy sexton—I recollect a funeral of a person of the name of Jane Webb in the month of June last—I received the application from Plummer about the funeral—I cannot say at what date exactly—I do not remember the date—I do not know exactly whether it was on the day of the funeral or not, I do not remember—I do not recollect which day it was I heard that the funeral was to take place—Plummer was the undertaker in that funeral—I do not recollect the day upon which the funeral took place—I do not recollect the day of the month—I do not

remember what day of the week it was—I recollect the fact of the funeral—I saw Plummer on the day of the funeral—I first saw him at the Church that day—I cannot say exactly at what time of the day it was—it was in the afternoon, from 2 o'clock to half past 2, on the day of the funeral—I met him at the Church, in the Church I believe—I cannot say whether it was on the day of the funeral or not that I received something from him—I received 1l. 15s. from him prior to the funeral, deducting the clerk's fee, 3s. 4d.

COURT. Q. Where were you when vou received it? A. Outside the Church—I received 1l. 15s., the funeral fees.

MR. CLERK. Q. Were those single or double fees? A. Double fees—he did not give me anything besides the fees that I recollect at all—I do not recollect whether he gave me anything else at some time before the funeral took place—I do not recollect whether I received the certificate from the undertaker Plummer, or whether he delivered it into the vestry—I was at the vestry on the day of the funeral—half-past 3 o'clock is the usual hour—the funeral took place at half past 3 o'clock—I do not recollect whether I was at the vestry at an earlier hour that day.

Q. Did you, on the day the funeral took place, or at any other time, give any proportion of the fees you had received to Dr. Vaughan? A. Either the day before, or the same day, or the day after—I do not recollect the day it was on—I gave it to him in the vestry—Plummer, the clerk, was in the vestry when I gave the fees to Dr. Vaughan—there was not any one else there that I recollect—I did not at any time, that I recollect, have a certificate with regard to that death in my possession—I do not recollect seeing the certificate, either at the vestry or elsewhere—the fees I gave to Dr. Vaughan in the vestry were 19s.

Q. How was that sum of 19s. made up? A. The ground fee is 6s., single fees; and double fees, it is 12s.—I paid Dr. Vaughan 12s., the ground fee—the remaining 7s. was the desk fee, as it is called, the minister's fee; that was a double fee—the desk fee is the same as the surplice fee—I do not recollect whether Dr. Vaughan made an entry in the rough book of that burial—I did not see any entry made at any time—I do not recollect whether there was a wedding on that same day, or not—the entries in the rough book were in general made by the Doctor, and the Curate of course—the curate used to write the full address—there was a file kept in the vestry for the certificates—the certificates were placed on the file after the entry was made—I did not see it done this time—I do not recollect whether I was present when any entry was made by the Doctor of the death of Jane Webb in the rough book—I do not recollect whether I was there or not.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You say it was about half past 2 o'clock, as well as you recollect, that you saw Plummer on the day when he paid you the fees? A. No, it was in the morning, at the time of the funeral, the day of the funeral.

COURT. Q. But that was the time you mentioned? A. Not at that time in the day; it was in the morning that I received the fees from Plummer.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. What did you do with Plummer then at half past 2 o'clock? A. He was there to meet the funeral—I received the money from him in the morning—he was at the Church at the time of the funeral—it was on the day of the funeral that I saw Plummer, and got the money—I do not remember whether it was on the day of the funeral, or not, that I received the money.

COURT. Q. You said just this moment that it was; what do you mean; was it on the day of the funeral that you received the money? A. I cannot say whether it was or not—Mr. Eastman officiated at the funeral—I received the money of Plummer—I do not recollect whether it was on the day of the funeral or not.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Was it one of the three days, the day before, the day of the funeral, or the day after? A. I do not recollect what day it was—the Doctor was there—at the time Plummer paid me, I cannot recollect whether there was a wedding there—at all events, the Doctor was there, and Plummer and myself were there, the day that I received the fees—I do not recollect whether it was before or after the funeral—it was before the funeral that I received the fees; the day before—I cannot say whether I received the fees on the day of the funeral or not—it was not the day after—it was either that day or the day before; I cannot recollect.

Q. When were the entries made in the rough book, in the course of business, at the time of the funeral, or before the funeral? A. Before, sometimes: they have been made by the Doctor, sometimes before the funeral—they are not more frequently made after the funeral—there are some entered before, more frequently after; sometimes before, and sometimes after the funeral, and sometimes at the time, the same day as the funeral—Mr. Eastman sometimes enters them—this was made after the funeral, the same day of the funeral, but after the interment had taken place—I do not recollect the entry of Jane Webb, Acre-lane, at all—the name of the place where the party lived at the time of death is generally entered in the rough book—it does not appear from the certificate which the undertaker produces.

Q. How does the clergyman get at the information as to the age, and the place where the party was abiding when he died? A. Sometimes the certificates have it on—when the registrar's certificate is given to the undertaker it does not contain the place of abode or the age, the minister obtains that information from the sexton—sometimes I have given that information, when it is not on the certificate—when it is not on the certificate I always give it.

COURT. Q. You tell the clergyman, when it is not on the certificate, where the party died? A. Yes.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. That is always the case? A. Yes, and he puts down according to what I tell him—that would be just the same whether it was Dr. Vaughan who made the entry in the rough book, or Mr. Eastman—I do not recollect seeing this certificate—on the day this payment was made, Plummer met me outside the Church, gave me the money, and then us two and the Doctor went into the vestry—sometimes the Doctor was accompanied by his son, Mr. Joseph Vaughan, when he came to the vestry on these occasions; sometimes he was not; sometimes he came by himself—it varied; sometimes Mr. Joseph was with him, sometimes he was not—when he came he used to stop a very little while, therefore I might not see him—I was not aware that the family were anxious about Dr. Vaughan's health, because he had had a fit, and that therefore one of his children almost invariably went with him wherever he went—very often Mr. Joseph used to come to the vestry—I cannot say whether during the years 1854 and 1855, I have seen Dr. Vaughan half a dozen times at the vestry without one or other of his children; I cannot recollect—sometimes he used to come without Mr. Joseph, and he used to go home without him; sometimes he came and went by himself, lately Mr. Joseph has come more—on

this occasion there were not any of his children with him in the vestry to my recollection—I do not recollect seeing any, only Plummer, the Doctor, and myself—I do not recollect seeing any one else there.

COURT. Q. Will you swear there was no one else there, that is what you are asked? A. Not to the best of my knowledge.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. When was it that you were first spoken to about these entries of burials that had taken place out of the district? A. At the time the Doctor was in Paris—I recollect a Mrs. Harrison and a Mr. Meynell coming about a certificate of burial—Mrs. Harrison was the widow of a person of the name of Harrison, who had been buried at St. Matthew's, Brixton—I believe she wanted a certificate, in order to get some money that was coming to her as his widow.

Q. Do you remember when the Doctor was absent, her coming over with her son in law, Mr. Meynell, and complaining that an incorrect certificate bad been given? A. I heard something of it—I do not recollect seeing them talking to Mr. Eastman, or the churchwardens; she went into the vestry—Mr. Eastman and the churchwardens were there—I saw Mrs. Harrison go into the vestry to them—I know that they waited, by the desire of Mr. Eastman, till the service was over, in order that the matter might be inquired into—I do not recollect seeing them in the churchyard, I saw them in the Church.

Q. Do you remember going up and asking them to take back the 6s. that had been overpai? A. In the Church I told them to take the 6s.—that was not before the matter had been inquired into, it was that afternoon I think, while they were waiting—I went and offered them the 6s.—Mrs. Harrison said she had rather not—I offered them the 6s. while they were waiting—I told them there was 6s. for them—I had not the 6s. in my hand, it was in my pocket—I told them it was there ready for them—they would not take it—I did not afterwards go to them, and lay to Mr. Meynell, "Say you only gave 1l. 9s."

Q. Take care; I tell you I have got Mr. Meynell here, so be upon your guard; did not you, after the service was over, and before they went into the vestry, go up to them and say to them, or to Mr. Meynell, "Say 1l. 9s."? A. No, I did not; not to my recollection—I did not.

COURT. Q. Did you eay to them, "Say 1l. 9s." or words to that effect? A. I do not recollect that I said to that effect at ail.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Will you swear you did not? A. I cannot say whether I did—to the best of my recollection, I did not ask them to say 1l. 9s.—I do not recollect making an observation of the kind—to the best of my recollection I did not ask them to say that 1l. 9s. was the sum they had paid—I offered the 6s. out of the 1l. 15s.—I do not recollect any observation, only offering it, and saying there was 6s. deducted—I cannot undertake to swear that I did not say that—I cannot say whether I did or did not; I will not swear it—I will not swear one way or the other—I know Mr. Matthew Vaughan very well—he is a clergyman, and is incumbent of the neighbouring Church of St. John—I went to him after the Harrisons had come over.

Q. Did you tell him that Mr. Eastman, Plummer, and the churchwardens, had been getting up a tale about the fees? A. I did not make any observation in respect to a tale about the fees, the application of Mrs. Harrison was all—I do not recollect saying to him that I had always paid the Doctor the proper fees, and the Doctor had always entered them in my presence—I did not tell him they were trying to get up a row about

the fees, not to the best of my recollection—I have not a particularly bad memory.

COURT. Q. But surely you can say whether you did say so or not? A. I can say almost that I did not—I do not recollect making the observation at all to Mr. Matthew Vaughan—I told him, of course, that Mrs. Harrison had applied for the certificate.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. The Doctor was abroad at this time? A. He was; the 6s. that I offered to refund was part of the ground fee—I get extra fees when an out parishioner is buried; 3s. 4d. is the extra fee I get—I am generally in the habit of receiving the fees, and then I account afterwards to the Doctor, in the vestry, telling him the last place of abode of the person who is to be buried, or who has been buried—he fills in by the certificate, and according to my suggestion—I did not in this instance tell the Doctor, Acre-lane—I do not recollect seeing him enter it—I stand there sometimes, but I take no notice, the Doctor writes the entries in himself.

Q. Was it not your habit to tell the Doctor what it was he was to fill in, with reference to the last abode? A. He had the certificate laid before him—that certificate did not contain the last abode—when it is not on the certificate the Doctor or Mr. Eastman entered, according to the information they got from me—I cannot tell how the Doctor got Acre-lane in this instance.

COURT. Q. But you say, when it was not in the certificate you always told him where it was? A. Yes; and the Doctor always knew from the certificate that it was out of the district.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. What did you tell him on this occasion 9 A. Clapham—the Doctor was aware—I do not recollect what I told him—I do not recollect this entry—I told him "Clapham."

COURT. Q. You said this instant you did not recollect what you told bim; now you say you told him "Clapham"? A. Harrison's you are speaking of.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. I am speaking of this particular case, of Webb, of Acre-lane; what did you tell the Doctor to put in, in the case of Jane Webb? A. Oh! nothing at all—I was not there at the time—I do not recollect anything.

COURT. Q. You were not there at the time? A. I do not recollect seeing the entry made of Jane Webb—I do not recollect whether I was there at the time the entry was made.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. I thought you, Plummer, and the Doctor went in together? A. We did so, and then the money was handed by me to the Doctor—I do not know whether the Doctor or Plummer made the entry in the rough book—sometimes Plummer has made it, I believe—I did not know that the Doctor objected to Plummer coming into the vestry, because he smelt so strongly of smoke, not until the Doctor told the churchwardens of it—(looking at the rough book) I do not see any entry by Plummer in this book—I understood that Plummer made the entries of the certificates sometimes; his father used to make entries sometimes in the rough book—I do not see an entry of Plummer's—I did not on this occasion tell the Doctor the Acre-lane that he was to put in here—I do not recollect whether I gave the certificate up to the Doctor, or whether Plummer gave the certificate.

COURT. Q. The certificate does not mention the place? A. Sometimes it does, sometimes it does not.

Q. But this does not, nor does any one from the Clapham district, at least

so says the registrar, and you say you always gave the place when the certificate did not? A. I gained information from the undertakers in general, or the relatives that come.

Q. If you always give the information when it is not on the certificate, did you give it on this occasion? A. I do not recollect seeing Webb's certificate; I do not recollect hearing or seeing that certificate at all.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You have been involved in some litigation with the Doctor yourself? A. In what way? I do not particularly know what you mean by litigation—he brought an action against me in the County Court—I have been occasionally in a little pecuniary embarrassment—I do not know exactly when it was that I had a distress put in my house, I have the receipt for what I paid, so I can tell you—it was 12th July, 1855—I went to the Doctor and told him the distress I was in—the distress was for 12l.—the Doctor advanced me 12l.—I had a claim upon the churchwardens for 2l. 10s. for salary—it was not arranged that that 2l. 10s. should be deducted from the 12l.—after all this disturbance took place about the fees I brought an action in the County Court against the Doctor for the 2l. 10s.—he brought an action against me for the 12l.—both these causes stood for hearing on the same day—I did not withdraw my action, it did not come on for hearing—I did not withdraw mine and pay the costs, I did not withdraw it, but I understand it was withdrawn—I got a solicitor to take the cases in rotation—I did not get my 2l. 10s., and I bad to pay the costs—the Doctor got a judgment in his favour for the 12l.—I was sworn—I swore that I did not owe it him—I believe the counsel after hearing me cross-examined, said he would have nothing more to do with the case—the Judge said that I had been guilty of perjury, and that he should consider whether he ought not to commit me—he afterwards said that considering Dr. Vaughan was wealthy enough himself to prosecute me he should not commit me, but that I fully deserved to be indicted for perjury—I did swear that I did not owe the Doctor the 12l.—I have not gone through the rough book with the churchwardens and others in all the cases, I have not done so with any one—I am still sexton—I have not talked this matter over pretty frequently with Plummer—in almost all the cases I received the fees—I used to account to the Doctor every time of the interment—the number of times a week that was, depended upon what interments there were—sometimes there might be one, sometimes none, and sometimes two or three.

Q. But supposing in any week there was more than one interment, bow often were you in the habit, taking one week with another, of accounting with him? A. Sometimes on Wednesday morning, and sometimes I used to go to the Doctor's residence and settle with him—sometimes, before I paid, the entries were made from the certificates—some of the entries are made by Mr. Eastman, and some are not.

Q. How was it that when Mr. Eastman buried on some occasions, no entry was made until a subsequent period? A. Because the biggest part of them, I believe, are out of the district; it was kept private from Mr. Eastman by the Doctor, the entries from the certificates—Mr. Eastman did not have the certificate sometimes at the time of the funeral, the Doctor had it in his possession sometimes—I believe it is the business of the officiating clergyman to have the certificates—sometimes Mr. Eastman was in the habit of burying without them—this rough book was always open on the table of the vestry—there was another book, a third book, a copy of it, which was kept for the churchwardens—the Doctor in general

copied that—the churchwardens had a copy of the rough book, and the rough book itself was at all times open to their inspection in the vestry—Plummer had his clerk's fees to receive from me from time to time—at one time I think we had a running account—it was the Doctor's wish that he should know what Plummer received, then I kept back two or three weeks, or perhaps a little more, but generally I paid him—the Doctor wanted to know what he received, and the fees then stood back—you might certainly tell it by the number of funerals—it was the Doctor's wish at ail events—it was only that time that I kept a running account with Plummer—I think so—that was one occasion.

COURT. Q. And the only one? A. The last two or three weeks perhaps, or three weeks, it all depended.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL Q. During the whole time Plummer was there officiating as clerk, had you not a running account with him? A. No, not the whole time, I think, it all depended—I think a few weeks—at all events he was paid all the fees, excepting the double fees.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How was it that he was not paid the double fees? A. It was the Doctor's wish that he should not receive the double fees after his father's death—the Doctor told me so—I do not know when it was he told me that—he told me that Plummer was not to receive double fees, only when he had a funeral of his own at the Church, acting as undertaker—when the funeral was not his own, the double fees that Plummer should have received were paid to Mrs. White, the pew opener—Mrs. Harrison's complaint was nothing, except about receiving this certificate of burial—she came to complain to the churchwardens that the burial certificate was incorrect.

COURT. Q. Did you hear it, or did she complain to you? A. She did not complain to me at all.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Did she complain in your hearing? A. No, I heard them talking in the Church about it—she did not complain to me at all—I heard her complain to others—she complained of the certificate, that she could not receive the money she had in the bank from the certificate she received at the vestry—she complained that the identity was disputed at the bank, in consequence of the description being incorrect—she made that complaint in the Church to the churchwardens I think—I do not know whether she produced the certificate—Mr. Eastman officiated at the burial of her husband, to the best of my recollection—I received the fees—Dr. Vaughan was at home at that time I believe—I think he was, I do not think he was gone to Paris at that time; he was at home.

Q. What did you do with the fees, if she paid double fees? A. I paid the Doctor the fees; double, single ground fee—I had received double—I paid the Doctor single—I did not pay him the double, because I meant to give it to the woman back again after I heard she was poor and deserving—I do not recollect when I paid Dr. Vaughan—I paid him before I offered the 6s. back to Mrs. Harrison—I did not pay him the whole, because I kept it back—I did so on all occasions, because it was the Doctor's wish that she should receive the 6s. back, because she was poor—it was by his permission that I should take them in that way—he was aware that the 6s. was to be returned to the woman—I know he was aware of it because I told him—I told him that the woman was very poor—I did not know the parties at all, and they came from Clapham—I told him the woman was very poor in the vestry of the Church—I cannot tell you when I told him—it was before the funeral—I told Dr. Vaughan in the vestry

that I had received double fees—I cannot recollect when it was—it was before the funeral, after I had received the money—sometimes I receive the money two or three days before the funeral—I do not recollect on that occasion how I might receive the money.

Q. Come, you may as well tell us the truth, did not you mean to pocket that 6s. yourself? A. I did not—the book that was kept for the churchwardens is all in the Doctor's handwriting.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. When was Mr. Harrison buried? A. I forget the date, the entry is in the book—I do not recollect the date at all—it was somewhere about the day before the Doctor went to Paris, but I cannot recollect—I do not recollect whether it was the day before or two days before the Doctor told me that I might give back the 6s. because she was poor—I should have given it back, but I had not seen her till then, and on the day of the funeral I was engaged—I did not see her till she came to complain of her certificate—I cannot say how long that was afterwards—it was somewhere about a fortnight or three weeks—I kept the money in my pocket for her—the Doctor afterwards made me refund that 6s. to himself in the presence of the Churchwardens—he asked me how I came to keep it back—I said it was because the woman was poor—I was then told that instead of being poor, she wanted the certificate for the purpose of getting 30l. from the bank.

Q. What did you mean by saying that she was poor? A. I was not aware that she was, only from the information I gained from the parties that came to order the funeral—it was a party of the name of Lodge—he lives at Clapham—he came to the churchyard—he told me that the woman was poor—he asked me to remit the fees—the fees were taken off for some relative of his in the same way—I kept the fees in my pocket till I gave them up to the Doctor.

COURT. Q. Did not you attend the funeral as sexton? A. I did—I did not give the 6s. back then, because I was busy at the time, and the relatives were gone from the Church at the time.

REV. GEORGE EASTMAN . I was curate to Dr. Vaughan, at St. Matthew's Brixton. I commenced acting as curate in May, 1853—the Rev. Matthew Vaughan preceded me, a son of the Rev. Dr. Vaughan—the number of funerals at St. Matthew's, Brixton, depended upon the time of year—I was there during the cholera season—then there were a great many—I usually performed the funerals—in June, 1855, I was officiating as curate to Dr. Vaughan—on 11th June, 1855, I find this entry in the rough book: "11th June. Jane Webb, Acre-lane, sixty five years," with my initials and the figure 6—the whole of that entry is in Dr. Vaughan's handwriting, with the exception of my initials—the figure 6 is in Dr. Vaughan's handwriting—the initials G. E. are mine—I should imagine that that entry was in the book when I put my initials there—I have in one or two instances put my initials to a blank entry—I had the entry of the funeral before me at the time I put my initials—sometimes I saw the undertaker's certificate—I dare say I have performed a funeral without the undertaker's certificate and the entry in this book by Dr. Vaughan—I do not recollect—I cannot speak clearly as to this entry of 11th June—I do not recollect that just now—I should imagine this entry of Jane Webb was there before I put my initials to it, for this reason, there was a wedding at the Church on that morning, which I think was performed by Dr. Vaughan—I have here the entries of the marriages which took place at that Church in the month of June—this is the marriage register of St Matthew's,

Brixton—I see there were two weddings performed on that day—Dr. Vaughan officiated at those weddings—he signs as the clergyman on 11th June, 1855—I think the body of the entries with regard to the weddings is in Mr. Plummer's, the clerk's handwriting—the fact of there having been two weddings at the Church that morning does not recall to my recollection anything with regard to the entry of this burial—I have no recollection of the entry—it was so common for me to place my initials to Dr. Vaughan's handwriting, and the cases were so numerous, that I could not recollect them individually—my initials are placed in the same line—I think I have once or twice placed my initials to a blank entry where there was nothing written—I do not recollect whether I did so on this occasion—I have here the register of burials (referring to it)—here is an entry on 11th June—it is in Dr. Vaughan's handwriting—it is, "Jane Webb, Acre-lane, 11th June, sixty-five years."

COURT. Q. That is in the parish register? A. That is in the parish register.

MR. CLERK. Q. Is there a column there for the signature of the officiating minister? A. There is, my name stands there, George Eastman—I did not sign that, it is in Dr. Vaughan's writing—Dr. Vaughan made the entries in this book at that time—my name appears almost invariably as officiating minister—it is not my signature.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Were you ever in the habit of performing the funeral service without the production of the registrar's certificate? A. I cannot say that I was—I have done it frequently, perhaps that term may be admitted—I will not say generally, frequently perhaps; I might say so, I will say so—the particulars as to the last place of abode and the age were generally contained in the registrar's certificate—I do not recollect taking a certificate without the abode being written upon it—I do not know anything about the one in question of Jane Webb, because I did not enter it—I dare say I have entered some from the Clapham district—I cannot recollect whether the certificates from the parish of Clapham did or did not contain the place of abode—in the certificates of the registrar of the district of Brixton, the name of the street was inserted—I do not recollect a case in which it was not—it is not the form of the certificate, but it was entered by the registrar, at our request, to suit our convenience—that is in our district.

COURT. Q. But in districts where it was not entered, where did you get your information from? A. I think I generally found it—I do not recollect, as I stated before, a case in which I have not seen it on a certificate—if it was on the certificate, I got it from the certificate.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Do I understand you to say that the registrar's certificates for Brixton parish contain the place of abode of the party? A. I said I did not recollect when they did not—I would not undertake to say that every one did.—(The ATTORNEY-GENERAL handed some certificates to the witness, for the purpose of refreshing his memory; MR. SERJEANT WILKINS objected to their being used for that purpose, as they were not in the witness's writing; MR. JUSTICE WIGHTMAN was of opinion that they were not available for the purpose.)

Q. I ask you, in the face of the registrar of Brixton, and reminding you that the certificate is according to a form given in the Act of Parliament, which he is bound to follow, whether they do contain the last place of abode of the party deceased? A. I have answered the question two or three times over—I mean to assert that I do not recollect particular certificates

not containing the place of abode—I do not recollect any certificate where the place of abode was not on it; I mean the street in which the person lived, the number, and the age—I have not taken rather an active part in this affair, not at all—I was not aware that I was on bad terms with Dr. Vaughan before that—I did not circulate any of the handbills—I delivered them to Plummer for the purpose of being circulated, at the churchwardens' request—stop, let me recollect; I do not think they ever came into my hands—I do not recollect whether they were delivered from my house—I do not think they ever came into my hands—I told Plummer, at the churchwardens' request, where he should stick them up—I believe I am still curate of Brixton Church—I know I am—the new incumbent has given me notice that he no longer requires my services, still my time has not yet expired—I have made no announcement that I mean to preach one sermon upon his trial and another upon his conviction; I am surprised at such a question.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. As far as you know, have you ever had any quarrel with Dr. Vaughan? A. A misunderstanding arose once, but it was set right directly—that was in Aug., 1854—it was set right directly—after that we went on, on amicable terms, as far as I know—as far as my recollection goes, the certificates for our district always had the age and residence of the deceased (several certificates were here taken from a file and handed to the witness)—I see the age and residence on every one of these except the last one—that last one is dated 13th Dec., 1855—I think a Mr. Lee officiated then, I did not—I have never taken an active part in this inquiry with regard to Dr. Vaughan—the only bills I was instrumental in circulating were those convening meetings of the inhabitants, and that was at the request of the churchwarden, who stated that he was busy that morning, and could not afford time to attend to them.

ALFRED STAFF PRIOR I am one of the churchwardens of the district Church of St. Matthew, Brixton—I am the incumbent's churchwarden—I commenced my duties in Easter, 1855, including this period—in the instance of Mrs. Webb, Dr. Vaughan accounted to me for 6s., a single ground fee, and not a double one—these two bills (looking at them) were published by the direction of myself and my brother churchwarden, Mr. John Edwards—they were posted about the parish by my direction—one of them, the first, speaks of a requisition from a body of the inhabitants—this (produced) is the requisition upon which the meeting was called—there are no other bills upon the subject of these affairs of which I am cognizant, except the bill for the calling of a vestry—I saw the bill which has been produced, alleged to be abusive of Dr. Vaughan, but I had nothing to do with it—I saw it when I found it stuck up on the walls; until I found it there, I did not know of its existence—I had nothing whatever to do with it, either directly or indirectly—I have given no authority for, or had any share in, the publication of any other handbill but the three I have referred to—I see an entry in the rough book of the funeral of Robert Parsons—that is the entry of Plummer, the late clerk—(The ATTORNEY-GENERAL objected to this evidence as irrelevant. MR. SERJEANT WILKINS offered it for the purpose of showing a practice of entering different particulars in the churchwarden's book from those contained in the rough book. MR. JUSTICE WIGHTMAN was of opinion that even for that purpose it was not admissible.)

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. I am quite sure you had nothing to do with printing these obnoxious handbills, but you saw them stuck about the parish? A. I did, I did not see a good many—I Saw two.

saw them stuck up one morning, and the following morning they were all torn down; the two I saw—there has been a good deal of excitement in in the parish—I heard of there being a misunderstanding between the Doctor and his curate—I suggested to Dr. Vaughan that if he could not agree with his curate, it was very disreputable to be quarrelling, and they had better part—I did not say that there would be no peace in the parish until the curate, Plummer, and Malby were got rid of.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How long is it ago that you stated this to Dr. Vaughan? A. I think about six months ago, I do not pledge myself to the date.

JOHN EDWARDS . I am one of the churchwardens of St. Matthew, Brixton. I am not capable of stating what would be the advantage to the party receiving double fees instead of single fees for burials in the course of a year, I have not made myself acquainted with it—my year of office not having been gone through, and the account not having been made up, I am not competent to give you an answer as to the amount of the fees, or how they are distributed—the single fees for a funeral are 17s. 6d., and the double fees, 1l. 15s.—of the 17s. 6d. single fee, 6s. I presume would go to the incumbent, as desk or surplice fees; 6s. to the churchwardens and the Rector of Lambeth, one half to each; and the residue would be made up by the sexton and clerk's fees, but what they are I do not know—I have made it my duty to understand how far the churchwardens are answerable, and how much of the fees it would be their's to account for; so far I can give you an answer, but as to the sexton I cannot—the relative proportions are the same in double as in single fees.

ALFRED STAFF PRIOR re-examined. If a burial takes place of a person who has died in the district of St. Matthew, Brixton, there is a single ground fee paid—the amount of that is 6s. for a person of full age, and if buried in what is called the third ground—that ground fee is divisible between the rector of Lambeth, the mother parish, and the churchwardens of Brixton, in equal moieties—for the burial of a person of fall age dying out of the district, and buried in the third ground, the fee is 12s.—that is distributable in the same way—in that case it would be 6s. to the rector of Lambeth, and 6s. to the churchwardens—in neither of those cases would the incumbent get any portion of the ground fee—he is paid by surplice fees.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. I think you have been very intimate with Dr. Vaugban? A. I was intimate previous to these investigations—our families visited, and were on terms of familiar intimacy—I have heard that the Doctor is a gentleman of competence, well off in point of money—I do not know of my own knowledge—he lived in very good style, independent of his emoluments as incumbent of St. Matthew, Brixton—I have heard so—I should imagine he had property.

COURT. Q. What are the desk fees? A. The surplice fees, in a single burial in the third ground would be 3s. for the minister, for a parishioner, and double for a foreigner.


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-292
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

292. JOHN VAUGHAN was again indicted for feloniously inserting a false entry in the register of burials of St. Matthew, Brixton, relating to the burial of William Raven.


the Prosecution.

MARY BULLEN . I live in South-street, Stockwell. I knew Mr. Raven, in his life time—he resided in Stock well-grove—I was present at his death—I

do not exactly know the date, he died in Stock well-grove, at his house there; it was in Sept, 1854—I attended his funeral at Brixton Church—a child of his had died six weeks before, and was buried at Brixton Church—I was present at the death of that child; it died at my house, not in Stock-well-grove—I had the care of it, in South-street, Stockwell, but it was buried from the Grove; it was taken from my house to the parents' house, and buried from there—I went to Mr. Bolt's, of Russell-grove, the registrar for the Kennington district, and registered Mr. Raven's death, and the child's also—I got a certificate from Mr. Bolt—I delivered it to Jane Miller, a sister of Mrs. Raven's—she was in her own house at the time, White Cottage, Love-lane—Mr. Haydon was the undertaker.

JANE MILLER . I am the sister of Mrs. Raven. I recollect the death of her husband, in Sept. 1854—after his death Mrs. Bullen gave me the undertaker's certificate—I gave instructions with regard to Mr. Raven's funeral, to Mr. Frederick Haydon, of Stockwell-green; he had buried a child of Mr. Raven's about six weeks before—Mr. Raven died on the Saturday, and I sent for Mr. Haydon, and gave him instructions on that same day—Mr. Raven died of cholera—Haydon afterwards saw me and made a communication to me on the Tuesday morning—I was anxiously waiting to know if my brother in law could be buried—I gave him the certificate of Mr. Raven's death on the Monday evening—I saw him again next morning at 9 o'clock—I did not see him again until he came to bury Mr. Raven, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon—he spoke to me about an interview that he had had with Dr. Vaughan on the Tuesday; that was when he came to tell me that the funeral might take place—he told me about an interview that he had had with Dr. Vaughan—he told me what had passed between him and Dr. Vaughan; that was before the funeral—I was present at the funeral—Mr. Eastman, the curate, performed the service—the funeral was at St. Matthew's Brixton—I did not see any entries made at the time of the funeral—I afterwards paid the undertaker the amount of his bill, and I have the bill in my pocket (producing it)—I paid him 1l. 15s., I think, for the interment.

THOMAS WILLIAM BOLT . I am registrar of deaths for the second part of the Kennington district I know Stockwell-grove—that is within the second part of the Kennington district—on 18th Sept, 1854, I registered the death of Mr. Raven, and gave a certificate for the undertaker for the interment of the body, signed by me—this book is in my handwriting—it is what I took down at the time—(Notice to produce the certificate was admitted.)

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. I suppose you gave a certificate in the form in the schedule of the Act of Parliament? A. Yes; it is supplied for us by the Registrar General—one part of Robert-street is in my district; it is partly in my district, and partly in the Brixton district.

MR. SERJEANT WILKJNS. Q. But no part of Stockwell-grove is in the Brixton district, is it? A. No.

FREDERICK HAYDON . I am an undertaker and builder, carrying on business at Stockwell I knew William Raven, who died in Stockwell-grove, on 16th Sept., 1854; I was employed as the undertaker to bury him—I had buried a child of his some weeks before at St. Matthew's Church, Brixton—I paid the double fees on that occasion—in the case of Mr. Raven I received the undertaker's certificate from Mrs. Jane Miller—I gave it to Dr. Vaughan—I first of all applied to Malby, the sexton, and in consequence of what he said, I went to Dr. Vaughan on the following morning.

COURT. Q. When was it you applied to Malby, the sexton? A. On

18th Sept., in the evening; and I went next day in consequence of what he said to Dr. Vaughan.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Was that at the parsonage on Tulsehill? A. Yes; it was in the morning, between half past 8 and 9 o'clock—Malby, the sexton, opened the door to me at the Doctor's—I did not know anything at all of the household of Dr. Vaughan—I knew Dr. Vaughan—I did not go into the house, I stood under the porch at the door—Malby fetched the Doctor to me, and I told him that I had come respecting the burial of Raven, and I handed him the certificate—he said he could not take the funeral as it was out of the district—I told him it was the wish of the friends of the deceased that he should be buried there, as his child had been buried a few weeks previous—he said that the Churchwardens had made a piece of work about taking burials out of the district, and if he took it he must take double fees—with that I handed him two sovereigns—the Doctor had got the certificate in his hand at this time—he went in and wrote me a receipt for the money, and gave me the change, 5s.

COURT. Q. Have you got the receipt? A. No; I have not—he gave it to me—he gave me 5s. change and the receipt.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. When he gave you the receipt, did he say Anything? A. He told me that if any one should ask me where the funeral came from I was to tell a lie, and say Robert-street—that was when he gave me the receipt—he said it in those words, "You are to tell a lie"—I told him where the body came from—I named Stockwellgrove.

COURT. Q. Repeat the words as you told him, you told him what? A. I told him that I had come respecting the funeral of Raven, and he told me it was out of the district, Dr. Vaughan did—I told him it was the wish of the parents—that was all that passed—there was nothing more passed between him and me.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Just relate what you said to him, as nearly as you can, about Raven? A. When I first applied to him, he refused to take it, on account of its being out of the district—he knew it was out of the district by looking at the certificate—I do not know what has become of the receipt—it is a general thing when we have a receipt and the money is paid for the bill, to give them up to the parties who employ us—I do not know whether I gave it up to them or not, but I cannot find the receipt anywhere at home, therefore I expect it has been destroyed—I suppose so because, at the expiration of the year, such things as invoices and these receipts of that description we do not take any account of, they are generally perhaps burnt; I mean invoices that we have with goods, and so on, that have been compared with the bills.

COURT. Q. But receipts, that is the question; do you usually destroy your receipts at the end of the year? A. Not all receipts, only receipts such as these, where I know they cannot be called on again to pay, because they will not allow us to bury unless we pay the money first.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. This case happened as long ago as Sept., 1854? A. Yes; I have mentioned it repeatedly—I cannot say exactly when I first mentioned it—as soon as I returned from Dr. Vaughan's house, I went into my own house, and as soon as I came home I communicated it to my wife; and then I went direct up into my shop, and told my men what the Doctor had told me—I mentioned it on that day—I mentioned it to Mrs. Miller on the same morning, directly I returned from Dr. Vaughan's—during the time I was conversing with Dr. Vaughan, he held the certificate in his hand—I left it with him.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You say you knew Dr. Vaughan, had you ever spoken to him before that time? A. Yes, at the funerals, that is all; when I have been conducting funerals.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. During the time that you were talking to Dr. Vaughan, did any one come to the door? A. A boy came to the door, with something in a basket—I rather think it was poultry, I do not exactly remember—Dr. Vaughan himself took the basket in.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Had you ever been to the Doctor's house before this occasion? A. Never—I have never spoken to him otherwise than upon occasions when I have been conducting funerals there—Mr. Eastman generally officiates at funerals—I do not remember ever speaking to the Doctor above once—I saw Malby on the Monday, and he referred me to the Doctor—it was not arranged that I and Malby should meet next morning at the Doctor's—I am confident of that—I told the Doctor I had come respecting the burial of Raven—the Doctor told me it was out of the district—I told him Raven lived in the Grove, at Stockwell; I believe so, to the best of my belief I did—I cannot say whether I did say so, I do not know for positive whether I told the Doctor where he came from or not; I told him I had buried the child.

COURT. Q. But you have been twice asked what conversation passed—you said he looked at the certificate and said it was out of the district; then you said he would know from the certificate that it was out of the district? A. Yes, I do not recollect whether I did say, I do not believe I did say that it was out of the district myself, or where it came from—I do not know that I told him it came from Stockwellgrove.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Did you or not tell the Doctor so? A. Not to my belief—I do not believe I told the Doctor that it came from Stockwell-grove—I do not recollect—I do not believe I told him so—I do not recollect that I did—I am not aware that I said a moment ago, that to the best of my recollection I did—the Doctor's expression was, that the churchwardens had made a piece of work about his taking burials out of the district, and that if he took it he must take double fees—I believe double fees were always paid for funerals out of the district, I know that—I have conducted funerals there from the district—we do not always pay the ground fees ourselves—I know that on all occasions for out burials double fees were paid—they made a piece of work on account of taking any more out of the district—they were not allowed to take any more—he told me that the churchwardens had made a row, and therefore if he took any more he must take double fees—he went in and wrote the receipt—he went into a little room on one side—I was at the front door, the street door, it opens into a passage, and just on the right hand side is a door opening into a little room, the Doctor's study—that was where he went in—I could not see into that room—he was not in there I should think more than two minutes at the outside, time enough to write the receipt—I should think it was quite time to write the receipt, plenty—he brought it out to me—I did not perceive that it was at all wet—it did not appear to me to be wet—it appeared as if it had just that minute been written—I do not know that it was wet, it might have been rubbed off with blotting paper—I did not perceive that it was wet—it was at the time that he handed me the receipt that he said, "Mind, if any body asks you where it comes from, you must tell a lie and say Robert-street"—that struck me as rather remarkable, coming from a clergyman and a gentleman—I did not take particular care of the receipt that was given to me under such remarkable circumstances—I have no doubt that I preserved the receipt, it might

have been for some months afterwards—I did not destroy the receipt—we generally give them up to the parties of whom we have to make the claim—I cannot swear whether I did so in this instance—to the best of my belief, I do not know whether I did or not—I cannot swear positive to anything, whether I gave it up or not, I cannot say—my impression is, that if it is not produced now, I could not have given it up—I do not believe I did give it up—I expect it has been destroyed and burnt—I told the Magistrate I expected it had been burnt—I believe it might have been burnt along with other things at Christmas time—I believed I had burnt it—I do not know that I swore it—I supposed that I burnt it with other things—I do not know that I said positively that I did burn it—I will not swear that I did not—the question put to me was, "What did you do with the receipt?"—I said I believed it was burnt—I was not asked, "The receipt you have lost, have you?" nor did I answer, "I burnt it after a time"—(MR. JUSTICE WIGHTMAN was of opinion, that if the cross-examination was at to what the witness stated before the Magistrate, the depositions must be first put in. The ATTORNEY-GENERAL submitted, that he was only compelled to adopt that course if he intended to contradict the witness by the depositions; he was not now cross-examining upon the depositions, but upon the short hand writer's notes. MR. JUSTICE WIGHTMAN considered, that if the object was to elicit what was said before the Magistrate, and what was taken down, the depositions must be put in, otherwise the rule upon that subject might always be evaded)—I did not burn that document, that I am aware of—I might have done so along with other things, but I am not aware that I did.

Q. When did you see Malby next after this? A. I saw Malby as I came down the hill from Dr. Vaughan's, he was in the churchyard, that same morning—no conversation passed between me and Malby on the subject of the Doctor having told me to tell a lie—I did not make any remark to him—I cannot say how many of these out district funerals I have had at St. Matthew's, Brixton—I might perhaps have had ten or twelve, or more than that—I did not go to any of these meetings, I evaded them all—I was sent for to attend the meetings, but I did not wish to have my name brought in question—I wished to have nothing at all to do with the affair whatever—I am sure that Malby let me in, I am positive of it—I cannot say now whether I rang or knocked at the door—I do not know Dr. Vaughan's maid servant—I did not see a maid servant—I saw no members of the family, no one but Malby and the Doctor himself—this was from half past 8 till 9 o'clock, between those times—that was the only occasion that I ever went to the Doctor's house at all—the Doctor's maid servant did not open the door to me and let me in, I swear that—neither of the Doctor's daughters were in the hall, or passage, at the time I was speaking to the Doctor—no one whatever was present but me and the Doctor, nobody but the boy with a basket—that was the only person I saw at the Doctor's house—I do not know who that boy was.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How long have you been an undertaker? A. Five years last Oct.—I have superintended a great many burials at Brixton altogether—in all cases of single fees, I have always consulted Malby, the sexton, or the old sexton previous to him—this injunction on the part of Dr. Vaughan to tell a lie, struck me as something remarkable, that was why I was induced to mention it to my wife and my man—at the time I mentioned it to Mrs. Miller, and the other parties, nothing whatever had been said about any prosecution of Dr. Vaughan, or anything connected with it.

Q. How was it that you were called upon to give evidence, or who called upon you? A. Mr. Eastman, I believe, to the best of my knowledge, was the first person that called upon me—afterwards some of the churchwardens called on me—I then stated to them what had transpired—I also carry on business as a builder—I have been a builder five years last Oct.—I have never taken any part in any proceedings against Dr. Vaughan.

GEORGE MALBY . I am the sexton of Brixton Church. I was so in the year 1854—in the month of Sept. in that year there were a good many deaths from cholera in that district—there were a good many funerals taking place at that time in the churchyard at Brixton—I do not know how many there were in the month of Sept, there were a great number, I cannot say exactly—the late Mr. Thorogood was churchwarden at the time, and he wished for none to be taken out of the district, as the deaths were go numerous—he gave that direction as the deaths were so numerous—in the month of Sept. I remember seeing Mr. Frederick Haydon with regard to the funeral of a person of the name of Raven—Mr. Haydon came to me on the night before the funeral—I do not remember the day of the week, it was the latter end of the week, I do not remember exactly—he came about the interment of Mr. Raven, of Stockwell-grove—I had not known Mr. Raven particularly in his life time—I knew him personally, and knew where he lived—I refused to take the intermept without the Doctor's consent, and 1 went up to the Doctor the next morning and mentioned to the Doctor that Mr. Haydon, the undertaker, had got a man of the name of Raven that wished to be buried at Brixton Church—in a very short time Mr. Haydon came up himself, and the Doctor refused to take it—the Doctor was in his study at his residence at the time Haydon came up—I was in the study at the same time—I was very often at the house—I sometimes assisted there as waiter—I was not waiting there that morning—I acted as waiter when they had dinners there, and this morning I was with the Doctor in his study—at the time Haydon came the Doctor was in his study—I let Haydon in—the house door was closed—I went to open the door, because we saw Mr. Haydon coming up the hill—the conversation took place outside, on the front door steps of the Doctor's residence—the Doctor came to the front door—Mr. Haydon said he wanted the interment to take place at Brixton Church of a man of the name of Raven, in the Kennington district—the Doctor made answer, and said he could not take it at single fees, but he would take it at double fees—then Mr. Haydon paid the Doctor, and the Doctor made answer, and said, "If any one should ask where the funeral came from, or what fees were paid, tell a lie, and say Robert-street"—that was all that passed—I was at the funeral as sexton, Mr. Eastman performed the service.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. That was all that passed, was it, between the Doctor and Mr. Haydon? A. Yes, the whole—it all took place at the front door—the Doctor stood at the front door all the while, there was not any one in the study besides—I went up there first that morning—I was examined twice before Mr. Elliott about this matter of Raven's—in the first place before granting the summons or warrant, and afterwards upon the hearing, when the Doctor was given into custody—I stated in the first instance that I went up with Haydon to the Doctor's—I think Mr. Haydon was examined on the first occasion—when Dr. Vaughan was charged before Mr. Elliott, Haydon was examined first, and then me—I did not hear Haydon examined, I was not in the court—when I went first before Mr. Elliott, I stated that I and Haydon went up to Dr.

Vaughan's together, and rang at the bell, and were let in by the servant—the second time I went before Mr. Elliott, I said that I went up first and let Haydon in—my going first to the Doctor's was correct—when I said that I had gone with Haydon, I did not recollect at the time—I did not say before Mr. Elliott the first time, that I met Haydon by arrangement, and went with him to the Doctor's—I think I did not—I stated that I and Haydon went together, and either rang, or knocked at the door, and the servant let us in—and on the second occasion, I stated that I had gone up first, and that I let Haydon in—I did go up first—I do not recollect who let me in that morning, when I got to the Doctor's—I know the servant Smith, very well—I do not recollect who let me in—I think I stated so at Lambeth—Haydon and I did not go up there together, I am quite sure—I was let in to the Doctor in his study—the study opens into the hall almost close to the street door—it is a small room—any body in that room could hear very well what was taking place in the passage—except in the winter time, the study door is kept open by a weight, the room being small—the Doctor came out of the study and stood at the front door talking to Haydon, in my presence, and never moved from the door until he returned to the library again, not till the whole thing was over, and then he went back to the library as far as I can remember, I think he did not come out again—I did not expect Haydon there that morning—we bad made no arrangement, but from the library window you can see any one coming—I did not expect him to come—I cannot say what I went up to see the Doctor about that morning—it might be about some funerals—I do not recollect particularly what it was—I did not know that Haydon was coming there that morning—we had made no arrangement whatever—I do not recollect at all whether he was coming there, that morning—I do not recollect whether I knew that he was coining—Haydon and I have not talked about this matter frequently since.

Q. Do you mean to say that before Haydon was examined as a witness, you and he had had no conversation on this subject? A. At the police court only, we met coming up from Brixton—we did not come to the police court together, part of the way we did—we did not converse about anything particular on this subject—of course it was a very serious case, that was all that passed—I will swear that there was no conversation about the details.

Q. There was one question I wanted to ask you, as to the usual practice of the Doctor and you, in all cases in which receipts were given, was it not you, the sexton, who gave the receipts? A. The receipts for the interments? yes, I did so, except in vault funerals—in all other cases, it is notified at the bottom of the paper which is given to the undertaker that the burial fees are to be paid to the sexton, and the sexton gives the receipt for them—I remember the funeral of Raven taking place—I do not recollect that I was present when the entry was made in the rough book about Raven's funeral.

Q. I ask you whether you did not, yourself, give Dr. Vaughan the name of Robert-street, as the last place of abode of the deceased man? A. I do not recollect any thing of it at all.

Q. On your oath, did not you, in the presence of Mr. Joseph Vaughan, give the Doctor the place of abode of the deceased, Raven, to be entered in the rough book as of Robert-street? A. No, Sir—not to my knowledge, I did not—I can swear I did not—I will swear it—I do swear it—I did not.

Q. What enables you to recollect now, when two minutes ago you said you could not recollect? A. I do not recollect anything of it at all, I mean respecting the certificate—as the Doctor took the funeral, therefore I am quite sure nothing passed—I have no recollection of the entry being made at all—I did not give him the name of Robert-street, because the certificate was given to the Doctor—I do not know anything about whether the certicate contained the name of Robert-street—part of Robert-street is in our district, and part of it is out of it—the certificate would not show the name of Robert-street at all—it is Kennington district—I will undertake to swear that I did not give the Doctor the name of Robert-street—I have no recollection on the subject of the entry being made at all—it was sometimes the habit of the Doctor to make the entries twice a week, on the two days that he performed divine service at the Church—he used to go into the vestry, and then make these entries—when we had burials with certificates that did not describe the last place of abode of the deceased, I furnished the Doctor with the information—on the day I was at the Doctor's with Haydon, I did not, to my recollection, see the servant—I do not remember seeing any—I will swear she was not in the hall when I and Haydon were talking to the Doctor, not in my sight—I did not see her—I did not see either of the daughters.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How long had you been at Dr. Vaughan's on the morning when Haydon came? A. About five or ten minutes, I think, as near as I could judge—there is a window in the room in which I was with the Doctor, from which you can see any person coming towards the house—you can only see to the gate—that is about the length of this Court from the house—I let Haydon in—in the first instance, when I was before Mr. Elliott, I stated that I went with Haydon—I think I came away alone—that was after Haydon left—he left first from the Doctor's—I did not see the money paid—I heard it paid—I did not see it paid—it was paid—I heard it paid into the Doctor's hand—the Doctor took the money at the front door—I heard it ring—I cannot tell what he did with it—he brought it into the study—I do not know what he did when he took it into the study—I do not recollect anything that passed when he brought it into the study—the interment was taken—my memory is a blank about that—I do not recollect anything further that occurred—I have only a distinct recollection of what I have stated—I had no occasion to apply to Dr. Vaughan at all when it was an ordinary funeral—if a person comes to me about a funeral of a parishioner in the ordinary way, I take the whole business upon myself—I have referred to the Doctor on many other occasions about funerals out of the district—it was a general thing, out of the district, but not in the district—I generally referred to the Doctor if a funeral was out of the district—sometimes the undertaker, generally myself, went to the Doctor—I generally consulted the Doctor myself—sometimes the undertaker used to go to him—that was seldom.

EDMUND HODSON . I am a law book auctioneer, of Fleet-street, and live at Brixton-hill, in the district of St. Matthew. In 1844 and 1845 I was senior churchwarden of the district Church, churchwarden of the incumbent—I know of no interference on the part of the churchwardens with the funerals or interments that took place; there were three applications to me, sent by the request, I suppose, of the incumbent—I said, "I do not know why this is put to me"—there are more letters, I do not know whether they refer to this point or not—I find in the rough book of Sept, 1854, this entry of the funeral of Raven, "William Raven, Robert-street, 33, 3 G. E, 6s."

—I have seen Dr. Vaughan's writing frequently, and had letters of his in my possession; but I do not know whether this is his writing, but I believe it is—I was staying at Dover, with my family, the whole of the month of Sept, 1854, but I had occasion to come up to town sometimes—in the course of that time I received complaints on the subject of these out district funerals—this (produced) is a copy of my letter to Dr. Vaughan, in consequence of those complaints, and this (produced) is the answer I received from him—certain portions of the burial fees for those out of the district, as well as those who are in, are paid to the churchwardens—it was the habit of the Doctor to settle every two or three months with me and my brother churchwarden—such portions as came to us, together with pew rents, which came into our hands, were appropriated to any repairs—we did not get them—we had no control over the vestry books, but had access to see them if it became necessary—we had nothing to do with the conduct of the funerals in the churchyard—I have no recollection of any application being made to me on the subject of the funeral of Mr. Raven, in 1854—in this rough book, which I believe to be the writing of Dr. Vaughan, the 6s. is the single fee—Dr. Vaughan accounted with me in respect, among other items of other burials, for this fee of 6s. in the case of Raven, and only for 6s.

REV. GEORGE EASTMAN . Here is an entry in this book, on 19th Sept, of "William Raven, Robert-street, 33, 3rd ground, G. E., 6s., "the whole of which is in Dr. Vaughan's writing—"G. E." are my initials, and are in Dr. Vaughan's writing—by my initials I know that I performed the funeral, but there were so many funerals that I cannot recollect one from the other—the initials were not put by me, but by the Doctor.

Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. If you look at the book, the three or four preceding entries are the same, initialized by the Doctor? A. Yes—I cannot say whether that would be by the direction of the sexton, two or three days after—I performed the funerals—the Doctor would not be present at the performance of the funerals, but the sexton would.

Q. The only means of the Doctor knowing it, would be by the sexton? A. Not being present, I cannot say—the certificate is another means, but that would not show that I had buried the party—there was no other curate but me at that time—I did not send for Haydon to give evidence against Dr. Vaughan at the police court—I swear that.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you produce the burial register of Mr. Raven? A. This is it—I met Mai by one morning just by Haydon's house, and in consequence of what he said I went into Haydon's house, but I did not leave home with the intention of calling on Haydon—that was the only conversation I have had with Haydon about this—it was as soon as circumstances were first transpiring in the parish—I had not at that time heard from the churchwardens what was suggested in regard to this case—this entry of the burial is in the Doctor's writing (reading it): "William Raven, Robert-street, 19th Sept, 1854, thirty-three years. George Eastman ")—the "George Eastman "is in Dr. Vaughan's writing—by the rough book (looking at it) there were, I think, about sixty-two interments in September, 1854—I cannot exactly tell you, from the statement in Dr. Vaughan's writing, how many of those were burials out of the district, because some words are ambiguous—Stockwell might be in Brixton or in Kennington—I do not see an entry in this rough book in Dr. Vaughan's writing, which is beyond all question out of the district.

MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Just hand it to me; look at "Hannah

Franklyn," and tell me in whose writing it is, and whose figures they are? A. "Hannah Franklyn" is in my writing, the figures are Dr. Vaughan's—the entry is, "Hannah Franklyn, Kennington, twenty-five years. G. E. 6s."—according to the ordinary rules, the sum charged for Kennington should be 12s.—here is also, "Sept. 10, William Death, Clapham," my initials, and "6s."—I think I may state positively that no part of Clapham is within the district parish—the next entry is, "11th Sept., James Norval, sixteen years," my initials, and "6s."—the word "Kennington "is erased, and "Brixton "placed over it, in Dr. Vaughan's writing.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. A scratch through with a pen? A. Yes, and "Brixton" written over it—my entry is scratched through, I do not know by whom, but Dr. Vaughan's writing is over it—on 15th Sept. here is "Elizabeth Ashley, Kennington, sixty-five, G. E., 16s.," and on 16th Sept, "Helen Maria Livingstone, Walworth. G. E. 6s."

Q. What would the 16s. mean? A. It was in the second ground, but I do not at this moment remember whether it is single or double fees—they are higher in the second ground—I do not see any other decisive case.

COURT. Q. Then how many have you made? A. Five—I think they are in my writing chiefly, but the figures are all in Dr. Vanghan's writing.

(The letters were here read, as follows: "Dear Sir—13th Sept, 1854—I have been requested by several of the inhabitants who are located near Brixton Church to call your attention to the circumstance of a number of funerals taking place there of persons who were not resident in the district, and to in quire whether any plan can be resorted to that may tend to allay their alarm at this period. Signed, Edward Hodgson." "Sept. 14th, 1854. Dear Sir,—I am truly sorry that you should have been requested by several of the inhabitants who are located near to Brixton Church to call my attention to the interment of considerable numbers of persons who are not resident in the district. In reply, I beg to say that if, instead of disturbing your mind, being at a distance, they had kindly called upon me, I would instantly have given them proof that they had been misinformed I regret to say that Mr. Thorogood has so frightened Malby that I have serious lean for his life. Dr. Ray ordered him this morning to go home and go to bed instantly. Strange to say, Mr. Thorogood commanded him not to toll the bell, and not to take any cholera cases. This day I refused to take five funerals from the borders of the district, and I wish you had been present to witness the heartrending scene of the applicants in not being allowed to fulfil the wish of the deceased, by being buried with their relations in Brixton churchyard The sixth case I could not refuse: the fact is, if you will refer to the Times, you will find in seven weeks, Brixton had only twenty-one cases of cholera; and what are these in a population of upwards of 14,000? In your absence, he assured there shall be no just cause of complaint In haste, believe me, dear Sir, yours faithfully, John Vaughan.")

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL to MR. EASTMAN. Q. Do you happen to know whether, when strangers were buried at Brixton, if they had relations buried there before, was there any practice that you know, of not charging double fees? A. I do not know, I cannot speak positively.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL to GEORGE MALBY. Q. If persons have had relations who did not live in the parish, and died out of the parish, when they came to be buried, if they had relations buried there before, was it the practice to remit the double fees? A. To receive the double fees—there was no difference made, to my recollection.

The following Witnesses were catted for the Defence.

MARY SMITH . I am in the service of Dr. Vaughan, and have been so nearly three years, as housemaid. I was with him in Sept, 1854, and one day in that month saw Malby, and another man, who I have seen since, and whose name is Haydon—he is the person who was examined against my master—I do not recollect the day of the month, but I had not seen Haydon on any other occasion—it was about the middle of the day—I was in the kitchen, heard a knock at the door, and went to open it—I found Malby at the door, and Haydon standing at the bottom of the steps—Malby said that he wanted to see the Doctor concerning the funeral of Mr. Raven—I went into the study, the Doctor was there—the study door was shut—I opened it, and saw Miss Lydia Vaughan, Miss Decima Vaughan, and Mr. Joseph Vaughan was sitting at his desk—I delivered the message which I had been desired to give, and the Doctor said that he could not be troubled with it, but that he must go to the churchwardens—I went to the door, but did not deliver the message, as the Doctor followed me out too quickly, and told Malby that he would not be troubled with it, he must go to the churchwardens—I did not hear either Malby or Haydon make any reply, they went away—I shut the door and went about my work, and the Doctor returned to his study—when the Doctor told Malby he must go to the churchwardens, I was standing by the door—the Doctor did not go into his study and write any receipt or paper, he did not leave the door—he did not receive any money from Haydon—Haydon did not speak to him—the Doctor did not say to Haydon, "You must tell a lie, and say it was in Robert-street," nor to Malby, or to any one at all.

Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How long have you been in that family? A. Nearly three years—I was in service before that—I lived with a lady down Brixton-road—I had never seen Haydon before that morning—I saw his face—the person knocked at the door with the knocker—there was a knocker, I am sure of that—Mr. Joseph Vaughan was sitting at his desk, but the two young ladies were standing in the study, by the side of the Doctor—they were ready dressed to go out for a walk, and the Doctor was sitting at his desk—there were two desks—I cannot say the hour, but I should say that it was between 11 and 12 o'clock—a lad did not come with a basket while the Doctor was at the door, no poultry came—when the Doctor followed me out of the study to the door, the study door was left open—I am sure of that—Mr. Joseph Vaughan did not come out at all—I attended a meeting—it was in Oct. I believe—it was in the evening—I should say that I went at half past 7 o'clock, but cannot say the exact time—I returned about a quarter of an hour afterwards—I was only there about a quarter of an hour—I distinctly recollect the name of Raven.

Q. When was your attention first directed to Malby and the undertaker coming to your master about the funeral? A. I heard it read at the meeting in Oct.—I do not recollect any other names that I heard read besides Raven—there were other cases read—I should say that there are nine or ten steps to go up to the front door of my master's house—Malby was on the top step when he stood talking to Dr. Vaughan—it is not pavement.

Q. Did you say that the pavement did not come into the house, and that Malby was on the pavement with the Doctor? A. Not pavement; I have never said so—it was not usual for a sexton and undertaker to come to my master's house on such occasions—I never knew such an occasion before—when I went to that meeting, I did not see some men who had been to my master's house earlier in the evening—I remember five men coming to my

master's house one evening; that was the day of the meeting which I attended—I did not see those men at the meeting, but I had seen them at the house—I had never seen them before, and knew none of them—they went into the dining room—one had a glass of wine, and the others had beer—I cannot say whether Dr. Vaughan was in the dining room part of the time that they were there—I did not stay in the room all the time—I did not see them go into any other room—I cannot say whether in that interval Dr. Vaughan was in the dining room—I believe the young ladies were there—Mrs. Vaughan was there.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Did the young ladies walk before breakfast, or after? A. After breakfast—the family breakfasted at half past 8 o'clock—this was between 11 and 12 o'clock, as near as I can tell—I never saw Haydon before—I have seen him since, and know him.—I am sure he is the man that came with Malby—I know of no other instance of an undertaker and sexton coming to the Doctor—it being an unusual thing for a sexton, and undertaker to come to the Doctor and hearing the name of Raven mentioned at the meeting, I knew that it was the same—when I heard that story talked of at the meeting, and Raven's name mentioned, I remembered the circumstance—I knew that the meeting was about my master—I suppose that it was curiosity that took me there, knowing that it was something concerning the Doctor—I went to hear what they all had to say about it—there were many other females in the meeting, but not that I knew—when I got back I named what I had heard to the young ladies—a boy did not come with a basket of poultry any time that day that I know of—It was my business to open the door, it was part of my duty—there was no man servant.

LYDIA BROUGHAM VAUGHAN . I am a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Vaughan. I recollect Sept., 1844; I was at home at that time—I recollect an application being made at my father's house about a funeral; I was at that time in the library with my father—by the library I mean the study—my sister, Decima, was also there, and my brother Joseph, besides my father—I heard an application made by Malby—he had not been at the house that morning before that time—it was about the middle of the day, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I think—I believe the study door was open—the servant, Mary Smith, brought in the message, and Malby remained on the door step—I heard what she said, and heard my father's answer—she said that Malby had come with an undertaker, about a funeral, and my father said, "He must go to the churchwardens"—after my father had said that, he rose up, and went to the door—I was going out at the time, and saw Malby and nother man, Haydon, whom I had seen before, and knew by name—when my father got to the door, he told Malby himself that he must go to the churchwardens—nothing further was said—my father did not receive any money from Haydon, or from Malby, or any piece of paper from either of them, nor did he give any piece of paper to either of them—he did not go into his study till they had left—I was there when they left—my father did not say to Malby or Haydon, "Mind, if anybody asks you where the funeral comes from, you must tell a lie, and say, Robert-street;" nor did he say anything of the kind—I believe the name of the person who was to be buried was mentioned; it was "Raven"—that is a name with which I was acquainted, it was the name of a neighbouring clergyman, a friend of ours—I saw Haydon at the police court, he is the same man of whom I am speaking.

Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. I presume you had breakfasted that morning? A. Yes, the family had breakfasted—we generally

have breakfast between 8 and 9 o'clock, and had adopted our usual rule on that morning—I cannot tell you on what day it was—I cannot name the day of the week—I had seen Haydon before that morning, and knew him by sight very well—I have known him by sight several years in Brixton—he is the brother of our butcher, whose name is Haydon also—I have a brother who is a clergyman, he does not live with us—he had not visited us that morning—I was going to his house, my sister in law was ill—I have not known a visit from Haydon and Malby before on such an occasion—when the servant came into the room, she said that Malby had come about a funeral, with an undertaker—she did not say, nor did Malby say, that it was the funeral of a person out of the district—he did not assign any reason at all why he came to consult my father about it—he did not speak to my father, my father merely answered him—he had sent the message in—Malby may have said "Good morning," as he left, to my father, but he did not speak to him about the funeral—all that I can say is, that my father came out and said, "I cannot be troubled with it, go to the churchwardens"—I believe Malby said, "Very well"—that was all that passed—it was the servant that mentioned the name of Raven—I think I can swear that—I will swear it.

Q. Then why, just now, did you express it as a matter of belief, that you thought so? A. I think I can swear it—I will take upon myself to swear that the servant mentioned the name of Raven on that occasion.

Q. Why did you just now express it merely as a matter of belief; you said, "I believe?" A. Mr. Prideaux did not ask me if I could swear, to my belief—he did not ask me if I could swear to it—when my father spoke to Malby, the undertaker was standing on the steps, by the third step—he did not come up at all to the door—Malby was standing on the door step—I do not remember a boy coming with some poultry that morning—I do not believe a boy ever does come with poultry to our house—he never does—my sister and I may have been in the room five minutes, dressed for our walk before the undertaker came—we went out for our walk—my brother Joseph accompanied us—we went to my other brother's—my brother Joseph was writing—I do not know what he was writing—my father was talking to me at the time the servant came in, and my sister was standing by, not doing anything—my father was talking to us both, I suppose.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You say that the family had breakfasted; you do not breakfast in the study? A. No, we usually assembled in the breakfast room of a morning, and went to the study afterwards—we afterwards went out to our brother, the clergyman's—my sister in law was ill, and we were fearful that she would have the cholera—she was very ill—my father, on the message, went out, and I followed him—my sister Decima was standing by me—she was going out with me—I did not leave the hall from the time I followed my father out till the two men went away—there are, I believe, five steps—I mean the third step from the top, the middle step—I had known Haydon before—I will swear he is the man that came that day—I never knew him coming more than that once—I am sure that there were five steps at our late residence—we are not living at the same place now—there were five steps—I do not know how many there are now.

DECIMA VAUGHAN . I am one of the daughters of the Rev. Dr. Vaughan. I was at home with him in Sept, 1854, at the time the cholera was about—I remember Malby coming with another man to my father in that mouth—I had known him before, and knew who he was; it was Mr. Haydon—at

the time that Malby and Haydon came to my father's house, I was in the study with my sister Lydia, and my brother Joseph, and my father—my sister and I were just going out to see our sinter in law, the clergyman's wife—my brother Joseph was writing at his desk, and my father was sitting at his desk—when we were all there together, the servant, Smith, brought a message in that Malby and another man had called to see papa about a funeral—she mentioned that it was Raven's funeral, in delivering her message from Malby—she mentioned the name of Raven—my father told her that he would not be troubled with it.

(MR. SERJEANT WILKINS here stated that he wet to convinced of the truthfulness of the witnesses catted for the Defence, that he begged to retire from the Prosecution.)


4th February 1856
Reference Numbert18560204-293
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

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293. JOHN VAUGHAN was again indicted for feloniously inserting in a certain registry of burials, a false entry of the burial of James Begbie, lately deceased.

(MR. SERJEANT WILKINS offered no evidence.)



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