Old Bailey Proceedings.
27th October 1862
Reference Number: t18621027

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
27th October 1862
Reference Numberf18621027

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Sessions Paper.








Short-hand writers to the Court.








Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.



On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, October 27th, 1862, and following days.

BEFORE the Right Hon. WILLIAM CUBITT, Lord Mayor of the city of London; Sir Frederick Pollock, Knt., Lord Chief Baron of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir Samuel Martin, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Thomas Sidney, Esq., M.P.; Thomas Quested Finnis, Esq.; Sir Robert Walter Carden, Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Russell Gurney, Esq. Q.C., Recorder of the said City; William Ferneley Allen, Esq.; James Abbiss, Esq.; Robert Besley, Esq.; and Skills John Gibbons, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and Thomas Chambers, Esq. Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.










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 art known to be the associates of bad characters—the figure after the Name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.


OLD COURT.—Monday, October 27th, 1862.


Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1027
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1027. JOHN HENRY GREEN (22), was indicted for feloniously wounding George Gay on the head and right hand, with intent to resist and prevent his lawful apprehension and detainer. Second Count, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.

JANE NEWTON . I am the wife of Mr. Charles Newton, of Harringay-house, Hornsey—on the morning of 3d September I came down at half-past 6 o'clock—I was the first down—I found all the doors open leading into the back yard; there were fourteen doors in number open, with the room doors and back doors; there were two doors leading to the back yard—the doors of the house were all open except the hall door—I missed articles to the I amount of about 100l.,—this workbox (produced) is worth about 50l.; it is my property; it was in the drawing-room the night before—the things that were missing were taken from various parts of the house—the two doors I found open were the only two back doors which lead into the yard; there is another door leading into the conservatory—there were some candles which had been taken from the morning-room and burnt in the drawing-room—we searched to see whether there were any traces of how the entry was effected; we suppose some one was secreted downstairs in the billiard-room; there were marks of pressure under the table—this handkerchief is one of a dozen that were taken; it is my property; it was on the library table the night before—all the doors were locked the night before; I know that as a fact myself; I always examine them myself; in the passage upstairs I always look—they were all locked the kitchen back door, I cannot say about that, it was closed, but all the other doors I am positive were locked—I found the kitchen door and all open.

SARAH ANN DIXON . I was housemaid to Mrs. Newton on 3d September

—I remember coming down on that morning and hearing an alarm from my mistress—the doors were all open; they had been fastened the night before—I fastened three of the outer doors myself—I observed that some candles had been burnt; I should say they had been burning for about two hour and a half.

CHARLES COUSINS . I was a servant of Mr. Newton's on 3d September—in consequence of what I heard, I made a search round the premises, and found the ivory workbox now produced—I went into the field from the front of the conservatory, and there I tracked some footsteps; there was dew on the ground—those footsteps led through a hedge; on the other aide of the hedge there was a heap of rubbish, and there I found this ivory work-box underneath it; it was quite underneath the heap of rubbish.

GEORGE GAY (Policeman, N 135). In consequence of information I received, I, with another constable, Gall, went to watch this workbox; it was concealed under some rubbish on the prosecutor's premises—we went to watch about 7 o'clock, and about a quarter past 9 the prisoner and another man came direct across the field to the heap of rubbish—I saw the prisoner stop down, take the rubbish off, and take the workbox and try to place it in a leather bag which the other man held—we pounced upon them at the time, and both men ran away—I made after the prisoner, and my brother officer went after the other—after the prisoner had run a little way I took him into custody—he spoke first to me, and asked what I was going to do with him—I told him I was not going to do anything with him provided he would go to the police-station with me—he went along about the distance of one hundred yards quietly, when I had to open a gate; he then threw me up behind, and fell on the top of me—we had a desperate struggle, and I got the best of him—I tried to get my hand round his throat, and he seized my finger in his mouth, and drew the flesh from the nail to the first joint—it drew the flesh and nail right off; I have a new nail now—I then got my staff out of my pocket—I felt very faint and sick—he drew a knife out of his pocket, or from under him, in some way or other, and stabbed me—he at first pricked me a little way at the back part of my head; in a few minutes, as we were lying on the ground, he got it in dagger fashion, and gave me a desperate stab in another place—I felt very faint, and he got away—I went after him again, and just as I got to him I slipped down; he instantly turned round and said, "You b——, that will do for you now," and gave me another desperate stab in the head in the same dagger fashion—the three cuts were all within about an inch of the same place—I halloed out "Help" and "Murder," and my brother constable came to my assistance, and took the prisoner into custody; I was almost insensible at the time; I lost a great deal of blood—I am not out of the doctor's hands yet; this is the first time I have had my uniform on—I am not able to do duty yet.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Were you in plain clothes? A. yes—the heap of rubbish where the box was was about 200 yards from the house.

JAMES GALL (Policeman, N 276). I was with Gay watching the work-box on the evening of 3d September—about a quarter-past 9, I saw the prisoner and another man come after the box—the prisoner lifted up the rubbish, and took up the box, and the other one was opening the bag when we came upon them; they ran away—I gave chase after the man that escaped—he jumped into the New River—when I got to the bank I heard Gay hallo "Murder"—I went back in that direction, and met the prisoner coming in a direction from the constable—I knocked him down with my

Staff, and took him into custody, and took him to the station, with the box—he did not say anything—I searched him at the station, and found this handkerchief in his side breast-pocket; I also found on him a discharge from the army, some money, and little things—I did not find a knife, the sergeant found that

Cross-examined. Q. You met him running from Gay? A. Yes—I did not say anything to him before I struck him; I knocked him down as soon as I came within arm's reach of him—I hit him on his forehead, and felled him to the ground—I was in plain clothes.

WILLIAM MONAGHAN (Police-sergeant, N 88). I was on duty at the Hornsey Station on the night of 3d September—the prisoner was brought there—his face was pretty nearly covered with blood—I took off his hat to look at the nature of the wound, and in doing so I felt something rattle in his hat, and I found this knife inside the lining of his hat—this is the hat (producing it)—I examined the knife; there was blood on the large blade; it was wet fresh blood.

NATHANIEL THOMAS WETHERELL . I am a surgeon at Highgate—on 5th September I was called in to examine Gay—I found him with two scalp wounds, and the nail torn from the forefinger of the right hand—the wounds were as if they had been cut with a knife; they were of a dangerous character; we always consider wounds of the head attended with danger—he has been under my care since—he is not yet fit for duty, but I expect in the course of a week's time he will be so.


The prisoner was further charged with hating been before convicted at Croydon, in August, 1861, when he was sentenced to Nine Months imprisonment. To this part of the charge he

PLEADED GUILTY.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

There were two other indictments against the prisoner for burglary.

The COURT awarded the sum of 5l., to the witness Gay, for his conduct on this occasion.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1028
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1028. EDWARD WILLIAMS (61) , Embezzling the sums of 1l., 1s., 6d., 9s., 6d., and 5s., the moneys of William Gave Fowler, his master; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor. Confined Twelve


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1029
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1029. MICHAEL DONOVAN (27) , Stealing a watch, value 8l., 8s., the property of the Rev. Harvey Vachell, from his person.

MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.

REV. HARVEY VACHELL . I reside at the Rectory at Horsleydown—on the evening of 17th October, about half-past 5, I was at the Swan Pier—I saw a man standing close to me, looking at a watch which he had in his hand—I thought it was his own watch at first—at that moment I saw my guard fall to my side—I seized him directly, and held him till the officer took him—I am quite sure I saw the watch in his hand—I have not found it—the man who had the watch was the prisoner.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. HOW long was the man by your side when you saw him looking at a watch? A. Not two seconds—I just glanced my eye down, and saw the man looking at a watch; it was my watch—when I felt my guard fell I said the watch was mine; there were a number of persons about at this time—I never lost sight or hold of the prisoner—I think I must have seen any movement that he might have

made—I was present when he was searched—I was told there was no watch found on him—it was on the boat when he took my watch, and then I held on to him till we got on to the pier—there were a number of persons on the boat; plenty of other men on the boat—I saw the prisoner looking at, a watch, and ascertained that I had lost mine—I was wearing it in exactly the same way as it is now—he would have taken the chain too, but it was round my neck—when I took him, he said, "You are mistaken." and denied having my watch in his possession; he repeated that—mine was a gold watch, in a single case; an ordinary description of watch.

MR. HORRY. Q. When you perceived your guard falling, did you miss your watch directly? A. Yes, and I laid my hand on his collar.

ZACHARIAH GIBLETT (Policeman, F 157). About a quarter to 6 on the night of 17th, I was on the steamer, and stepped on to the pier—I saw the last witness on the steamer, and saw him take hold of the prisoner; I was standing close by, and took hold of him—the prosecutor said, "You thief, you have my watch"—I was in plain clothes—I took the prisoner by the collar; I saw his hand clenched, and at the same time he pitched something into the Thames—I could not say what it was; he threw it in back-handed—I searched him, and found 3d.,—the inspector asked him his address; he did not give it

Cross-examined. Q. It was rather dark at this time, was it not? A. Rather dark—I never attempted to do anything to him whatever; he kicked me twice when I was searching him—I was feeling the legs of his trousers in the usual way, and he said he would kick my b——teeth down my; throat, and he up with his foot and knocked my hat off—the inspector came up, and said if he did not be quiet he should have to put the hendcuffs on him.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read at follow:— "It is no use my saying anything."

GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1030
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1030. WILLIAM BRADSHAW (26) , Stealing a watch, value 7l., the property of Edward Greenwood, from his person.

MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.

EDWARD GREENWOOD . I am a gas-fitter, at 108, Fore-street, City—on 20th September, about a quarter to 9 in the evening, I was coming down Snow-hill with my wife and child—my wife was a few feet in advance of me; I had hold of my child's hand—I had my watch with me—as we came to the corner of George-yard, opposite a baker's shop, a man laid himself down across the pavement, with his feet in the gutter, and his head towards the shop window, leaving sufficient room for one person to pass between his head and the shop—the prisoner spoke to my wife; I came up at the time—he preteuded to be helping the man in the pretended fit, and as he spoke I heard a click, and saw my chain go—I turned round and said, "You vagabond" he said, "I have not got it, sir," and ran away through Fox and Knot-court into West-street—I did not lose sight of him a moment till I left him locked up—he ran into the policeman's arms—I am positive the prisoner is the man—I have not recovered my watch.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. I suppose a number of persons came directly after this person pretended to ill down in a fit? A. They came up after I was gone—I did not see the mob—I was not assisted by any person in the chase of the man who took the watch—I was followed; no one got ahead of me but the prisoner—two or three persons stopped the prisoner

—there was no crowd at any time during the chase between me and the prisoner—there were two or three people ran out of their houses; they did not form an obstacle so as to prevent my getting close to the prisoner—I had my walking-stick—I did not lose the prisoner a moment.

COURT. Q. At the time you heard the click was there anybody near you but the person you subsequently chased? A. No.

ANN GREENWOOD . I am the prosecutor's wife—we were going down Snow-hill on this night—I was two or three steps in advance—a man fell down close on my feet, that he almost pulled me with him; he pulled my dress, and tore the fastenings—I was then addressed by the prisoner—I am quite sure he is the man—he said to me twice that the man was stunned—I distinctly saw his face—there was no one else near me and my husband save the prisoner and the man on the ground—I turned, and saw my husband as soon as I heard the cry of "Stop thief," and they were all gone, the prisoner, the man on the ground, my husband, and all—I did not believe he was in a fit, and I believe I should know the man again—I saw my husband run after the prisoner—after my husband was gone about fifteen or twenty people came up.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you say that you never lost sight of the person? A. No, I never lost sight of any of them—the man in the fit was gone directly I turned round—I distinctly saw the person who spoke to me, running—I never lost sight of him.


He was further charged with having been before convicted of larceny, on 30th November, 1857, in the name of William Jones, when he was sentenced to twelve months imprisonment; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**†— Six Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1031
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

1031. JOHN CRAWLEY (18), and CHRISTOPHER FORD (17) , Robbery on Henry Cooper, and stealing from him 1 handkerchief, his property.

CRAWLEY PLEADED GUILTY.* Confined Twelve Months.

MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY COOPER . I live at 33, East-street, Red Lion-square—on the night of 12th October, about 20 minutes past 8, I was walking along Argyle square, just by the church—I saw a mob of about two dozen men, I should think—I saw the prisoners there; they were coming towards Grays-inn-road, in a direction to meet me—I went into the road to avoid them—they were close upon me then—some of the others that were with them came into the road as well—the prisoners were with the rest of the mob—they were not among those who came off the pavement after me—I then went on the pavement again, and my hat was knocked off with a large stone—I turned round to see who it was—they were then all round me; I was surrounded—I saw both the prisoners there then—I found my handkerchief on Crawley—when my hat was knocked off, I turned to see if I could see who it was—I then saw both the prisoners close to me, arm-in-arm together—Crawley had my handkerchief in his hand—I told him the handkerchief belonged to me, and I caught hold of it—just then a constable came up, and I gave him into custody—the handkerchief was taken from my breast-pocket—I am sure the prisoners were arm-in-arm together when I turned round.

WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman, E 120). On the night of 12th October, about 20 minutes past 8, I was in Argyle-square—I there saw a crowd of about twenty-four lads and men, and the prosecutor—I saw Ford go up and knock his hat off, and the other one took his handkerchief out of his pocket

—I crossed over the road and took them in custody, with the assistance of a bystander—Crawley and the prosecutor were struggling together—I produce the handkerchief—the prosecutor had it in his hand—Crawley it go of it when he saw me.

Cross-examined by MR. KEMP. Q. I suppose it was rather dark? A. Yes; it was dark—I was about twenty yards from the prisoners when I first was them—I was in uniform—there was no other policeman about them—I know nothing of Ford, than that he is the associate of thieves.

HENRY COOPER (re-examined). This is my handkerchief—it is the one! had on the night in question, and which I took from Crawley.

FORD GUILTY .†— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1032
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1032. WILLIAM BYRNE (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Philip Nind, and stealing 3 lbs. weight of cigars and 2 towels, the property of Sophia Berenkohler; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1033
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1033. CHARLES SMITH (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Samuel Emanuel, and stealing 2 pairs of boots, his goods; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1034
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1034. CHARLES EVANS (19) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Joseph Barnes, and stealing 19 spoons, and other goods, his property; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1035
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1035. GEORGE CHAMBERS (26) , Stealing 2 yards of cloth, on 6th October, and 17 yards of cloth, on 13th October, the property of Edward Henry Moses, and others, his masters; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eight Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1036
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1036. JOHN BROWN (17) , Stealing 1 handkerchief the property of Thomas Gillings, from his person; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1037
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1037. THOMAS MCCARTHY (17) , Breaking and entering the van house of George Moore, with intent to steal; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1038
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1038. ROBERT SMITH (21) Stealing 1 scarf, the property of Frances Brown; having been before convicted; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Confined Eighteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1039
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1039. BENJAMIN ANTHONY (40) , Embezzling the sums of 7l., 4s., 6d.; also, 8s.; 2s.; and 1s.; also, 1l.; 3s.; and 3s.; which he had received on account of William Taylor and another; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1040
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1040. JOSEPH MCCARTHY (16) , Feloniously assaulting William Davis, with intent to rob him.

MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM DAVIS . I am a tinman, at 19, Newton-street, Holborn—on 22d September, about half-past 9 at night, I was coming out of a shop in Drury-lane, with change for a shilling in my hand—there were several lads outside, among whom was the prisoner—I went down Parker-street, and on

Passing a passage there, the prisoner came out, stepping backwards—he and another crossed their legs, and tried to trip me up—it is a very dark place—I kept my feet—I put my hands up against the prisoner and his companion—the prisoner put his right hand into my right-hand pocket—I had nothing in that pocket—I had my money still in my hand—I begged them to let me pass along; I had not interfered with them; and his companion said, "Let the poor b——go, and allowed me to pass on—I then went on my errand; and after that I returned to the same place, and I saw the prisoner sitting on the step of a door—on seeing me coming with a policeman, he started off full speed down Parker-street, as hard at he could—the policeman went after him, and took him—he is the man.

Prisoner. We were all shoving one another on the pavement.

Witness. They were about me—I am sure he put his hand in my pocket—I am sure he was the one—I am only sorry I did not have the other one.

JAMES DRAY (Policeman, F 106). On the night of 22d September 1 accompanied last witness to this place in Drury-lane—he pointed out the prisoner, and as soon as he saw me and the last witness, he ran down Parker-street—I pursued, caught him, and took him in custody.

Prisoner. I ran away from the corner, because, whenever he sees us them, he hits us.

Witness. No; as soon as I see them, I start them away—they are always committing felonies.

Witness for the Defence.

JAMES ANDERSON . I am stepfather to this boy—I have lived twenty eight years in the neighbourhood—the boy has worked for me—I brought him up from about four years of age—he got out at night larking with other boys—I was not present at this time, but it was only done as a lark—I had got plenty of work for the boy that week—he had no need to be out of work, only he gets out with a lot of boys larking, and it was through a lark this was done.

Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Don't you know he has been in trouble before? A. Yes—that was when I deserted him—I ran away and left him; and the boy could not starve—I am to blame; I don't believe there is thieving in him.

JURY to WILLIAM DAVIS. Q. What pocket was it that he put his hand In? A. My coat pocket; a loose side pocket.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1041
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1041. JAMES JONES (26) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Rowland Mason Ordish, and stealing 3 shirts, 1 coat, and other articles, value 5l., his goods; having been before convicted of felony; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .**— Four Years Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1042
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

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1042. LUTHER YEATES (50) , Feloniously forging and uttering a Certain deed, with intent to defraud; he was also charged upon six other indictments with like offences; to all of which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Twenty Year's Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1043
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1043. ROBERT LLOYD (24) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of James Smith, and stealing therein 4 lbs of beef, his property; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.*†— Confined Eighteen.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1044
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1044. WILLIAM FLYNN (16) , Stealing 1 watch, the property of Benjamin Arthur, from his person; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1045
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1045. GEORGE DUNN (26) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of George Ellis, and stealing 36 pieces of paper; having been before convicted of felony; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1046
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1046. MARY SMITH (58) , Stealing 1 petticoat and 1 handkerchief, the property of William Blunt Holl; to which she


She was further charged with having been before convicted; to which she Pleaded NOT GUILTY.

JAMES HORAN (City-policeman, 23). I produce a certificate of the prisoner's conviction at Guildhall Petty Sessions, on 9th April, last (read)—she had six months' imprisonment—I had her in custody, and was present—she is the person.

Prisoner. I was not tried. Witness. It was a conviction before Aldermen Hale and Humphery.

GUILTY.— Confined Twelve Months.

NEW COURT.—Monday, October 27th, 1862.



Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1047
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1047. JANE HARMAN (44) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; to which she

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1048
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1048. JOHN DAVIS (24) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Month.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1049
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1049. RICHARD NELSON (32), was indicted for a like offence; to which he


The Mint officer, Brannan, stated that the prisoner was a dealer in coin, and a trainer of utterers.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1050
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1050. JOHN WILLIAMS (21) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1051
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1051. DANIEL HAYES (28) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Four Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1052
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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1052. DANIEL DAILEY (32), and THOMAS MAHER (35) , Unlaw fully uttering counterfeit coin; to which MAHER PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Fifteen Months.

MR. COOKE conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY PEARCE . I keep the Gloucester Arms, Clarey-street, Bromley—on 5th October, Maher came in for some beer, and paid me with a shilling, which afterwards turned out to be bad—this is it (produced)—he came again on the 8th, about half-past 12 in the day, with Dailey—Maher called for a pint of six ale, which I drew—he paid me with copper—they both drank of it, and Maher then asked for a second pint—he said, "You must trust me with this pint; I have not got any money"—I said, "why did not you tell me before I drew it? I would not have drawn it"—I trusted them with that, and Dailey then called for a pint—he gave me sixpence, and I gave him threepence change—Maher then called for another pint, but I said, "No"—he put his hand into his pocket, and said, "You draw it; I will pay you"—I drew it, and he put down a shilling, which I found was

bad—I said, "Hallo, my boy, I have got, you this time; this is the third bad shilling I have taken of you; I shall have you looked up"—he said. "Mr. Pearce, forgive me, and I will pay you good money"—I said, "No"—he put down a florin, two shillings, and a sixpence, in good money, and wanted me to take them for the bad money which he had passed, but I refused, and sent for a policeman; but before one had time to come, Dailey said to Maher, "Give me that packet out of your bosom?"—he did not give Maher time to do so, but put his hand into Maher's bosom, and took out a packet, in tissue paper, about the size of a five-shilling paper of coppers—I had seen that packet before Dailey passed it to Maher, that morning, while he went into the back yard, and Maher put it in his bosom.

Dailey. It was a pair of stockings. Witness. I can say that it was the SAME packet—it was the same size, and in tissue paper—It was a large roll—a policeman came in, and I gave Maher in charge, with the shillings, which I marked—while he was searching Maher, Dailey took the florin up, and passed me a shilling, saying, "Take this for the two pints that are owing"—the two pints came to sixpence—he did not stop for his change, but picked up a little child, saying, "I will take this child home,” and walked out of the house—I put the shilling Dailey gave me into my pocket—I had no other money there—I examined it when I came back from the station, and found it was bad—I marked it, went straight to the station, and gave it to the sergeant on duty—I saw him give it to 51 K—I never lost sight of it—this is it (produced).

Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Were they once or twice in the shop? A. Only once—I said nothing when Dailey took up the florin—I do not know what he did with the florin, but it was in his hand until he gave me the bad shilling, and the policeman was at the bar—I had not time to say saything about the 2s., to Maher, nor did I tell the policeman that Dailey took it—I did not ask Dailey for the 2s., when he left the shop; I have never seen it since—it was not mine—by tissue paper I mean the thinnest that is made; it is not exactly white—I was about two yards from it—I looked at it because I had been cautioned about it before—when Dailey took the parcel out of Maher's bosom they knew that I was sending for a policeman—they were both at the bar when the policeman came in.

GEORGE MARTIN (Policemam, K 441). On 8th October, I was fetched to Mr. Pearce's shop, and Maher was given in my custody—I searched him, and found two good sixpences and 7d., in copper—Mr. Pearce gave me two bad shillings.

JAMES TAYLOR (Policeman, K 51). On 8th October, I saw Mr. Pearce give a shilling to the sergeant on duty, who gave it to me—from a description I received, I took Dailey that evening, and told him I wanted him for uttering a counterfeit shilling—he said that it was a lie; he had but one sixpence, which his poor old mother had given him in the morning—I took him to the station, and Mr. Pearce gave him in charge—I found on him 5 1/2 d., in copper.

SARAH STRIKER . I am the wife of Henry Striker, of Mill-terrace, Bromley—Maher lodged at our house—Dailey came there on 8th October, I between 11 and 12 o'clock—he went up into Maher's room, and called him down stairs—he called him Dan—Maher came down and stood at my back-room door, where I was sitting at work—he wanted a light for his pipe from my fire, and Dailey tore off a piece of paper from a packet in his hand, it was whitey-brown paper, which linendrapers use—it was not

white—he could easily hold the packet in his hand—when he tore the paper, Bailey said, "Come, Tom, be quick, for you know I want to go and see if I can get those few shillings that are owing to me"—they then west away.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to her Majesty's Mint—them three shillings are bad, and all from the same mould.

Dailey's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follow: "I should not have gone to the house if Maher had not asked me. I had only sixpence in the world, which my mother gave me, and I spent it in hit house I was taken about four hours afterwards. He said nothing to me when maher was taken. I never passed a bad shilling at all."

COURT to HENRY PEARCE. Q. You say that Dailey put down a shilling, and said, "Take that for the two pints; "are you sure that that shilling was not one of the two that Maher had laid on the counter? A. I am not sure—Dailey spent sixpence at my house besides this shilling.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ANN DAILEY . The prisoner is my son—on 8th October, about 10 or 11 o'olock, I gave him this pair of stockings (produced), and he asked me for six-pence to go to the baths, which I gave him—the stockings were wrapped in a handkerchief—I think he wrapped them up himself; I did not—I think it was a red handkerchief—these are the stockings—I gave them to him to put on—I vamped them—(The witness, by the dictation of the Court, wrapped the stocking up as they were when she gave them to the prisoner)—he had been at sea, and had lately come home from Sydney.

SARAH STRIKER (re-examined). The parcel was cot like this; it was carelessly wrapped round, but it was not so Urge as this.

ANN DAILEY (cross-examined by MR. COOK). Q. How long has he been at sea? A. Seven or eight years—he was away twelve months the last time; that was the longest time, I think—he is generally away twelve months at a time—he was with me in Poplar nine years ago—he was always at when he was away from me—be once got twelve months innocently, the person died in prison, and explained that he was innocent—he was taken on suspicion for a different party; it was for stealing copper, and the chaplain will say that he got it innocently, for the person died in prison and said so—he was never imprisoned before, only for getting drunk, and for his bad talk when drunk—he has never been bound over by a Magistrate for six months.

DAILEY— GUILTY.* Confined Fifteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1053
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1053. THOMAS ADAMS (45), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. COOKE and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN FRANCIS HUMPHREYS . I am barman at the Holyrood Stores—on Tuesday, 7th October, about half-past 7 in the evening, the prisoner and another man came—the prisoner asked for two glasses of cooper, which is half stout and half porter—it came to 3d, and he gave me this florin (produced)—I bit it, bent it, and told him it was bad—he said that he was not aware of it—he wanted it back, but I would not give it to him—he then gave me a half-crown, which I put in the till, and gave him the change; four sixpences and three penny-pieces—there were no florins or half-crowns in the till—I marked the florin, and gave it to the governor—I told the prisoner to go out of the house, or else I would lock him up; he remained, and I sent for a constable; but, before one came, the prisoner asked for two glasses of stout, which he had, and paid for with three penny pieces—while he was drinking it, a constable came, and my master gave the prisoner and hid companion in custody with the florin.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Are you certain what money you gave him in change for that half-crown? A. Yes—I was before the Magistrate on each occasion that the prisoner was brought up—nothing was said on the first occasion about a second florin being bad, but I believe there was on the second, and the third time the other man was discharged—it was on the third occasion that a second florin was alluded to—I would not let the prisoner see the florin; I kept it in my hand—if I had a bad florin I should hike to see it—I told him to leave—he remained about ten minutes before the governor came—I was not alone behind the bar; the under barman was Iwith me.

MR. COOKE. Q. Was he taken to the police-court with his companion the next morning? A. Yes; they were remanded to the next Monday when the prisoner was committed—I did not hear him make any statement—I was present on both occasions.

MR. PATER. Q. Were you present when the prisoner was searched? A. Yes; but nothing was said about what was found.

ROBOT WENSLEY (Policeman, F 36). The prisoner was given into my charge with this coin (produced)—he said that he did not know it was bad I—he refused to give his address to me, and again at the station—I searched him at the station, and found a florin, a shilling, four sixpences, a three-penny bit, and 5 1/2 d., in copper—I did not discover it then, but on the Monday morning I found that the florin was bad, and, to make sure of it, I took it to Mr. Clark, a pawnbroker, in Long-acre—the prisoner was taken before a Magistrate on the Wednesday, remanded till Thursday, and then remanded again till Monday, when the prisoner was committed, and the other man discharged—I did not discover till that day that the florin was bad.

Cross-examined. Q. How many remands had there been? A. Three—evidence was taken on each occasion, and it was not till the last day that I discovered that the florin was bad—I was present on each occasion—the prisoner's master was in Court, ready to speak to his character.

MR. ROWDEN. Q. Who was the person who was called to his character? A. He was not in any business, and could not give any account of himself! so I could not go about him.

COURT. Q. Did you take down the address of the person he named? A. No; what I said just now referred to what the prisoner said of himself—he said that he was potman to that man for two months, but had left the place.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are bad, and are both from the same mould—the weight is very deficient, but they are good in colour.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows: "The last two shilling-piece that has been produced, was given to me by that young man in change."


OLD COURT.—Tuesday, October 28th, 1862.


Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1054
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

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1054. FREDERICK GODWIN (30), and JOSEPH BURGOYNE (37), were indicted for stealing 136 pieces of handkerchiefs, value 150l., the property of Thomas Fardell, the matter of Godwin. Second Count, Feloniously receiving the same; to which

GODWIN— PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Years Penal Servitude.

BURGOYNE— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Month.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1055
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1055. ISABELLA McDONALD (39) , Feloniously attempting to kill and murder herself; to which she

PLEADED GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1056
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1056. RICHARD REYNELL (17) , Stealing 1 watch, the property of Robert William Sherriff, from his person; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1057
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1057. LEOPOLD SCHOCKE (39), was indicted for unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences. Second Count, for a conspiracy.

MESSERS. METCALFE and F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES WALKER . I am the manager of the Tees Woollen Company, carrying on business at Barnard Castle, in the county of Durham—Thompson, Richardson, and Co. form part of the company—a person named Thompson is an agent of the company in London—he has an office at 17, Ironmonger-lane—he was appointed agent in August or September, 1861—he had authority to open accounts with persons in London—among other persons with whom he opened accounts was a person named Cowan, carrying on business at 12, Union-court, Old Broad-street—I have been to that offices; there are two rooms—between the 1st and 19th August, inclusive, goods to the amount of 504l. 12s., 2d., were supplied to Cowan, as against, I believe, 100l., credit—on 1st August, I sent goods to the amount of 368l., 14s., 5d., minus discount; and, on 19th August, I sent goods to the amount of 135l., 17s., 9d., making 504l., 12s., 2d.,—on 7th August, Cowan came to me at Barnard Castle—he asked for further goods; he said they were for a house in Paris that he represented—he said he would pay 100l., or 150l., if they were sent to London—he said the house in Paris was a large cash house; that they paid cash in twenty-eight days, less 2 1/2 discount—Cowan met with the directors—they refused to increase the account, except to a very small amount—we said we would send the goods if he paid money on account—he offered to pay 150l., or more—I received this letter on the llth—it is in Cowan's handwriting—it is dated from Edinburgh—(This being read, requested the goods to be forwarded at once, with the addition of ten pieces of second quality)—in consequence of that letter, I forwarded to London, next day, two bales of tweed, addressed to him at his office—the| two bales of second quality were not sent—the value of the two bales was 249l., 17s., 10d.,—I sent no invoice with the goods—on 13th August, I came to London to the Waverley Hotel—I saw Cowan there that morning—he said the goods had not arrived—he said he had bought largely in Paisley, and was not able to fulfil his engagement as to the payment of the 150l.,—he said, should he fail in meeting the engagement, I might hold the goods to my order when they arrived—I do not think I saw the prisoner on the 13th—on the 14th I saw Cowan again at 10 o'clock in the morning; he said the goods had not arrived—I saw him a second time that day; he then said they had arrived; that he had sent them to his Packer—the prisoner called a little after Cowan's second visit—I went to Lumley's with Cowan, upon something that appeared to be business at the time; and when we came back to the Waverley, the prisoner was waiting there, as if

to meet him by appointment—we then went to Cowan's office to see what money could be procured, Cowan and the prisoner walking before me, apparently consulting—Cowan first gave me 50l.,—he then asked the prisoner how much money he had paid away that day—the prisoner apparently looked over his books, and said from 50l., to 60l.,—Cowan then asked the prisoner how much money he had in hand—the prisoner said two 5l., Bank of England notes—I got that 10l.,—Cowan then asked the prisoner to take a receipt stamp, and go to Mr. Something, I did not catch the name, and ask for 50l., for Mr. Cowan—the prisoner came back in about ten minutes, and presented the gentleman's compliments to Mr. Cowan, and stating that he paid only once a month—the prisoner said, "You know, Mr. Cowan, these large houses will not make an entry of 50l."—I went again on Friday, the 15th August—I went purposely to get Cowan's receipt that the goods were held by him at his packers to my order—I asked him for it—I then had perfect confidence in his honesty—the prisoner was there, out and in—I would not swear that he was there at the time I asked Cowan for his receipt—Cowan said he was a business man and the proper way was to have the packer's receipt, to which I agreed—we then went into the large apartment, and I am certain the prisoner was then present—Cowan said, "We will go and get the receipt," meaning the packer's receipt—I then left the court by the right-hand and they by the left—I went back to the Waverley—they left together—about twenty minutes afterwards they came together to the Waverley—they both came into the smoking-room—I believe Cowan brought the receipt; whether it was in his hand or not I will not swear, but my impression is that he carried it in his hand at the time he came into the smoking-room—I went out of the smoking-room with Cowan into the coffee-room—the prisoner stayed in the smoking-room—this (produced) is the receipt—he said it was the packer's receipt—it is dated 14th August (read: "25, Jewry-street, Aldgate; received from Mr. James Walker, two bales of goods, which are at his disposal. Billengay and Co., paid carriage"—the words "paid carriage," are my writing—it is a mere memorandum—after I had received the receipt the prisoner and Cowan left together—I never saw them again until the prisoner was taken into custody—in the early part of September I went to the office in Union-court—I did not find either Cowan or the prisoner there—I did not go up stairs—there were a number of gentlemen in the lobby, or on the stairs, apparently creditors—I afterwards saw some of the goods at Mr. Venables'—on 4th September, I sent this telegram—"James Walker, Barnard Castle, to Henry Cowan; say prompt by telegram when you will be here or remittance may be expected; why not here, Saturday?"—the first visit on the 14th was near 10 o'clock—the second was between 1 and 2—on the 15th when I went to the office it might have been about 4 in the afternoon—these (produced) are part of the goods made by us—they are not part of those that were sent between 1st and 19th August—they are connected with a sale to Cowan on 5th June, through Mr. Thompson, the agent.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How much money altogether did Mr. Cowan pay you? A. 100l., on 1st August; 60l., on the 15th; and 4l., 14s., 1d., on the 1st August; which was a balance of two bills for 252l., drawn on him by Thompson—he paid altogether 164l., 14s., 1d., between 1st and 19th August.

ROBERT VENABLES . I am a woollen draper, at 34, Aldgate—I have known the prisoner between one and two years—I knew him as a tailor in Railway-place, Shoreditch—he had bought cloth from me—I can't say up to what

time—I never saw his place of business—his dealings were in a small way—I simply saw him in our place of business, and knew him as a customer—a few days before 1st August he came to me about selling some goods—that was the first transaction of the kind I ever had with him—he said he wished to sell some woollen goods for a shipper, and he wished to know if I could purchase them—he said that the person wanted money to meet a payment that day and, therefore, he would sell the goods cheap—I asked him if the transaction was all right and who the person was—he said that everything was perfectly correct, that he was short of money, and that was the reason he was selling the goods—he said it was Mr. Cowan, of Union-court, Old Broad-street—I went with him to Union-court, Old Broad-street—I there saw Mr. Cowan and he showed me the goods—the prisoner was present—he introduced me to Mr. Cowan—I believe the prisoner assisted in showing me the goods—they were unpacked and in piles—I bought goods to the amount of 365l., 16s., 9d.,—I saw no invoice of the goods I purchased—I did not ask to see it—I did not inquire where they came from—I said to Mr. Cowan, "Do you generally deal in these goods?"—he said he did—"Because, "I said, "I should like to know that this transaction is all right"—he said, "It is perfectly correct; I am short of money, that is the only reason; I am selling the goods to meet a payment this day"—I asked if it was all right, because he wished to sell the goods for cash, and I did not know him before—I have the invoice (producing it)—it is for 365l., 16s., 9d.,—it is an invoice from Cowan to me, subject to the discount of thirty-five per cent. the goods requiring that discount to make them of market value—I have since found that I can purchase goods of the Tees Woollen Company quite as cheap—I paid 125l., to Mr. Cowan on the delivery of the goods that afternoon, 1st August, and I subsequently paid 116l., 7s., 6d., on the 4th—the prisoner was present during some of the transaction—Cowan and I arranged the price—the prisoner was in the offices at the time, but I believe he was not within hearing at the time the arrangement was made—I paid the prisoner a commission of 2 1/2 per cent. on the nett price, minus the 35 1/2 per cent.—I paid him the commission because I understood it was the only payment he would receive—if I had thought he had been Cowan's clerk I should not have paid him the commission—I paid him because he introduced the transaction—there was no receipt given for the commission—the goods were not all unpacked and in piles; they were on the first occasion; they were all unpacked—I saw the canvas about—a portion was not quite opened out and put in piles—on the 14th August I bought some other goods—the prisoner brought the patterns of those goods to me—I believe it was between 10 and 2 o'clock—I bought from the patterns—he did not tell me where the goods were—he simply showed me the patterns of the goods—it is customary for us to buy goods from patterns—he simply showed me the patterns and I purchased them—the patterns would tell me what the quantity was—any man knowing the business would know the quantity from the patterns—the patterns represent the quantity—he showed me the goods and asked me whether I could buy them—I made him an offer—he went to Mr. Cowan and Mr. Cowan accepted it, and brought the goods—I agreed to pay the same as the others, deducting 35 1/2 per cent.—I produce the invoice—the invoice price made out to me was 240l., 17s., 10d., I paid that less 35 per cent. and deducting 1l., 11s., 10d., the prisoner's commission of 2 1/2 per cent and paid 100l., on that day—Mr. Cowan came when the goods were delivered for the payment of 100l.,—he said he wished for 100l.,—I am not positive whether the prisoner was with him when the money was paid, but I believe

he was—the goods were delivered on the 14th—Mr. Cowan came for the money shortly after the goods were delivered—in fact, I saw Cowan before I saw the goods—the goods came within two hours after the prisoner had concluded the bargain with me—I don't know what they were delivered in—I saw them after they had been delivered in my warehouse—we have trusses constantly delivered—they were unpacked when I saw them opened out—I gave instructions to our young men to bring the goods for me to see—when I first saw the goods they were all unpacked—I do not know how the invoice price that was made out to me was arrived at—of course I valued them; it is not likely I should buy goods without putting a value upon them—Cowan quoted the price, and I said, "It is no use my looking at these goods at this price; these prices are perfectly ridiculous"—he said, "I will take you a discount off"—I said, "What discount?"—he said, "Twenty-five"—I said, "That won't do; I could not sell them at the price"—I was going to leave the goods—he persuaded me to buy them, as he wanted the money—I had not seen the invoice that came from the Tees Company in the first instance—I have not seen it now—I do not know how it is that the invoice corresponds with the other—I did not see it at the time; but previous to completing the first transaction I asked Cowan to give me satisfaction that everything was correct, and I wished to know that he regularly dealt in woollens—he said he did, and he went to his desk, pulled out two or three invoices, and said, "See there, I deal regularly in woollens; and for further reference I refer you to Messrs. Spielman, my bankers; they will give you every satisfaction as to my respectability"—I went there, and the answer was perfectly satisfactory—those were the only two parcels I bought of him—I paid a commission to the prisoner on a third parcel of goods—my brother bought them during my absence in the North—I did not pay that money to the prisoner—I did not agree with the prisoner about it—the third transaction was not with me—it was a similar transaction to the others—that was on 23d August—it was not a transaction of mine, it was my brother's—I paid the prisoner the commission myself—I paid him the commission on the two amounts together, of the 14th and 23d—I find in our petty cash-book two amounts of 6l., each entered to him for commission—altogether I paid 12l., commission to him—that was on the three parcels—when I went to Cowan's office, I do not recollect seeing any other woollen goods there except those I bought—he told me that he was an importer of French and German goods and optical instruments, and he exported British goods—I fancy I know the value of goods, and the market from which they come—I knew the description of goods that these were.

Cross-examined. Q. Are these sort of purchases customary in the trade? A. They frequently occur—the prisoner came to me in the usual way as an agent, or intermediate party between myself and the principal—very respectable firms have at times sold under the invoice price, and if they had not done it they would have been insolvent—the prisoner did not bring a sample the first time—he told me the goods were Tweeds, trouserings—he at once mentioned Mr. Cowan's name and address, and I went and saw him—I arranged with Cowan about the price, in the private office—the prisoner was present only a portion of the time; while we arranged the price he was not present—he was in and out—he was not there the whole time the negotiation was going on—Cowan did not show me the invoice of the goods; he told me the price—that was before he made out this invoice—he quoted the prices as I looked over the goods—I said at once I could not pay that

price; it was a ridiculous price—I refused the goods at 30 per cent of, and was going to leave the office, and then he consented to take off 35—it was after that that the invoice was made out, after I left the office—it was made out at the original price that he asked me, and then the 35 per cent deducted—I believe it was made out by Cowan—I should say it was his writing—he presented the invoice when he applied for the money that day at my place—no invoice was made out while I was at his office; at least it was not handed to me then—Cowan came for the money one or two hours afterwards—the prisoner came into the shop—I don't know whether he went into the counting-house—I believe Cowan and I were alone in the counting-house—it was then that he presented the invoice—the 35 per cent. was taken off, and I paid him the money—I gave him a cheque and 25l., in gold—on 14th October, the second transaction, the prisoner came with samples, in the same way as at first, and Cowan came with him and brought the goods—I feel almost certain that the prisoner was with him—Cowan came within one or two hours after the prisoner had been first; I can't say the exact time—Cowan came directly after the goods arrived—the first I knew of the arrival of the goods was when Cowan presented me the invoice—I am speaking of the second transaction—he came and brought the invoice, and said he would accept the price—I don't know who brought the goods—I saw the prisoner afterwards in the shop—I saw Cowan first—I don't know whether the goods had arrived before Cowan came—the same thing happened as on the first day; he deducted the thirty-five per cent., and I paid him the money in the counting house; my brother was present—the prisoner was not there at the time I paid Cowan—I gave him a cheque—the two sums of 6l., paid to the prisoner for commission, were paid from the petty cash—I should think it was paid about the 5th or 6th August—the commission on the second transaction, I think, was paid about the 28th—the reference to the banker was quite satisfactory to me, and it appears that it was quite satisfactory to the Tees Woollen Company—in a transaction with a stranger, I should always make an inquiry—since this we have purchased goods of the Tees Woollen Company, through their agent—I have bought precisely the same goods as those I bought of Cowan, and I bought them considerably under the price that Cowan asked me; they offered them at from twenty to forty per cent, less than Cowan asked me—I could have purchased precisely the same sort of goods at nearly the same price that I paid Cowan—I did purchase some at a less price than I paid Cowan—I purchased three pieces at the average of about twenty-five per cent; if I had cleared the lot they offered me, I believe they would have averaged over thirty-five per cent less than they sold them to Cowan—those I bought of the Company averaged less than those I bought of Cowan, less than the price Cowan asked—that was ten per cent higher than the price I paid Cowan, but they offered me other goods as high as forty per cent. less than Cowan's price—the prices of these goods fluctuate according to the exigencies of the trade, and what suits one man's trade does not suit another—in one month they are frequently twenty per cent. cheaper—at the present time I could buy fancy goods like these at twenty-five per cent. less than I could two months ago.

MR. LEWIS. Q. Not goods of the same weight? A. I say they are the same weight, and I will not give up my judgment to that of any man in the trade—when the prisoner came to me, he told me he had goods cheap, and when I went to Mr. Cowan I thought I was going to buy them cheap; I did not find them so cheap, I was going to leave them—I bought the goods at the

market value—the Tees Woollen Company could not have sold them in the London market at a higher price—I have submitted them to merchants in London, and they say I have given the full value.

WILLIAM WHITTY . I am housekeeper at 12, Union-court, Old Broad-street—at the end of December or the beginning of January Mr. Cowan took offices there—I saw the prisoner a few weeks afterwards; he was in the habit of being in Cowan's office—I recollect some goods coming on 14th August, about 12 o'clock in the day—I think there were two bales; they came in a railway van; they were delivered at Mr. Cowan's office—the prisoner was there then—the goods were never taken up into the office, they were left in the passage—I afterwards fetched a van by Cowan's direction—the prisoner was there when he gave me the direction—the two bales were put into the van and driven off; I helped to put them in, and the carman and another man assisted—the prisoner was present when they were being put into the van—they were not unpacked.

Cross-examined. Q. Did Mr. Cowan arrange for the offices? A. Yes—he took the key away at night and came in the morning and opened the place—I sometimes received the letters at night and gave them to him in the morning.

WILLIAM JORDAN . I am carman to Mr. Harris, of Bligh's-buildings, Bishopsgate—on 14th August I took some goods from Union-court to Mr. Venables'—the prisoner went with me in the cart—the goods were packed in bales—they were delivered in that condition at Mr. Venables'—the prisoner paid me 2s., for the cartage.

EDWARD WILLIAM HOLLAND . I reside at Hoxton—I was for four months errand boy in the employment of Mr. Cowan—I know the prisoner—he was there every day I was there—I went there in May—I don't know what the prisoner used to do; there was business going on there—there were a good many goods delivered there—I recollect the prisoner telling me one day that he and Mr. Cowan were going to the packers; that was Mr. Southgate's, in London-wall.

Cross-examined. Q. Was there any other clerk there besides the prisoner? A. No—a person named Fielder came the morning I left; that is about a month ago.

MR. LEWIS. Q. Did you ever go with the prisoner to pawn some goods? A. Yes; at Mr. Smith's at Pimlico—I did not see the goods; they were packed—I can't tell the time.

WILLIAM FIELDER . I live at 15, Robinson-road, Kingsland—I was in the service of Mr. Cowan—I went there on the Saturday morning before 1st September—on the Monday afterwards I recollect this telegram coming—I gave it to the prisoner—I wrote this letter in answer by the prisoner's instructions—(This stated that Mr. Cowan, not having received any remittance from Paris, had left for that city, and might be expected back on Friday or Saturday next)—I did not see Mr. Cowan after I wrote that letter—I have not set eyes on him since—this letter was written on the Monday; the prisoner left on the Saturday afterwards—he said on the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so on, other goods might arrive, and if so I was to ship them to Hamburg—on the Saturday he gave me the key of the office to give to the housekeeper—he did not return after that.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you know of Mr. Cowan having left? A. Yes; he told me when he engaged me that he was going to Paris, and he might be five or eight days away, and I was to follow the instructions of the prisoner—that was on the Friday, the day before he left—I did not see him after

1 o'clock on the Saturday—the prisoner continued to come to the office as usual till the Saturday following—I drew money of the prisoner in the week, intending to repay him when Mr. Cowan came back—I should rather think there was money due to me on the Saturday—I suppose Mr. Cowan owes me something now—the prisoner is a foreigner—I don't suppose he can write English very well—I think I am a good writer; I ought to be—I am now doing a little work occasionally.

MR. LEWIS. Q. Does the prisoner speak English well? A. Pretty well; well enough to instruct me what to write in that letter.

AUGUSTA BARTON . I am the wife of Peter Barton, a licensed carman, of 25, Jewry-street—I have never seen the prisoner there—there is no firm of Ballinger and Co. there, or any persons carrying on the business of packers.

WILLAM FELL . I am book-keeper at Spielman's—Henry Cowan kept an account there; it was opened on 10th July, 1862, with 121l., 10s., 8d.,—part of that was a small bill of about 14l.,—the account is not quite closed now; there is a small balance of 4s., 10d., in his favour—I can't say when the last cheque was drawn—I have not the books here—I think it was about the end of August.

Cross-examined. Q. What was the largest balance at any time in his favour? A. I think about 160l.,—on 7th August the aggregate amount paid in by him was 544l., between 10th July and 12th or 14th August.

MR. LEWIS. Q. How much was paid in after or on 1st August? A. I can't say—I was told at Guildhall that the books would not be required—Mr. Orridge was watching the case at Guildhall on behalf of Mr. Spielman—I can't tell what was paid in within a day or two of 1st August—I have not the items before me.

EDWARD FUNNELL . I am a City detective officer—I apprehended the prisoner in Aldgate on 12th September, about 8 in the morning—I asked him if his name was Schocke—he said, "Yes, it is"—I said, "Do you know a person of the name of Cowan?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "He has got an office at 12, Union-court, Old Broad-street?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I want to ask you about two bales or trusses of goods that were sent up on 14th August"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "What has become of them?"—he said he supposed they were shipped in the regular way—I said, "How could they be shipped in the regular way, when they have been sold close by here?"—he said, "I did not sell them, and I know nothing at all about them"—I asked if he knew where Cowan was—he said he believed he was on the Continent—I told him that I was an officer, and I held a warrant, and he must consider himself in my custody—I then took him to the station—he gave his address, and told me his room was the third-floor front-room—I went there, and the landlady showed me the room—I saw there a portmanteau, a carpet bag, and a hat box, all packed up ready to be taken away at a moment's notice—the portmanteau was in a canvas wrapper, strapped, and locked.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you search him? A. Yes, and found 27s., on him—I was watching for him; he came out of his lodging.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1058
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

1058. LEOPOLD SCHOCKE was again iudicted for feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for 2 bales of goods, with intent to defraud; upon which no evidence was offered.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1059
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1059. HENRY ARNOLD (27) , Stealing 6 pairs of boots, the property of James Hickson and others, his masters; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1060
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1060. WILLIAM WALKER (21) , Stealing 2 umbrellas on 12th August, and on 6th September 9 umbrellas, the property of Isaac Abraham Boss, his master; to which he


The prisoner received a good character.— Judgment Respited.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1061
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude

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1061. GEORGE PEARSON (27) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 200l., with intent to defraud; also an order for payment of 200l.; also a bill of exchange for 85l.,14s.; also 2 Bank of England notes; to all of which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1062
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1062. ROSINA CLIFFORD (19) , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child; to which she

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1063
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1063. WILLIAM JOHNSON (21) , Stealing a watch, the property of William Thomas, from his person.

MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM THOMAS . I am a music-seller of 36, Bishopsgate-street—on the evening of 13th September, about a quarter-past 6, I was in Bishopsgate-street, standing by the corner of Great St. Helen's; the prisoner rushed past me—I heard something snap; I put my hand in my pocket for my watch and it was gone—I pursued the prisoner down Bishopsgate-street—finding that I was overtaking him, he doubled, and ran down Great St. Helen's, went round the court, and in coming back I caught him—when he ran round the court he ran up against some man—I held him till the officer came up—I had never lost sight of him—I have never seen my watch since; it was worth 4l.,—he denied taking the watch and that he was the person that had run.

Cross-examined by MR. PALMER. Q. Were there many persons in the street at this time? A. Not very many—it took me by surprise, his running against me; I did not see him coming—I had my watch safe a few minutes before; it was fastened to a swivel—I heard it snap as the prisoner ran past me—there were persons round within reach—the prisoner did not stop at all when he came against me, he continued running.

ARTHUR PEARSON . I am assistant to a music-seller in Bishopsgate-street—I was standing with the prosecutor—he said to me. "My watch is stolen"—I saw the prisoner run across the road—I ran after him—he turned down a gateway—I came up to him about a minute after the prosecutor, and we held him till he was given in charge.

Cross-examined. Q. You saw nothing of the taking? A. No—we were standing at the corner of the gateway—the prisoner ran, and doubled, and came back to the very place where we first stood—I was about twenty yards behind the prosecutor when he caught him.

DANIEL WHATE (City-policeman,650). The prisoner was given into my custody by the prosecutor—I searched him at the station, but found nothing on him—he gave his address, 21, Russell-street, Deptford, near the Commercial-docks—I went there—this bowl of a watch was picked up by an officer and given to me—I did not see it picked up—the officer is not here.

GUILTY .†— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1064
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1064. MARY ANN WILLIAMS (30) , Feloniously forging and uttering three requests for the delivery of goods; to all of which she

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, October 28th,1862.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1065
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1065. THOMAS WATSON (30) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. COOKE conducted the Prosecution.

EDWARD WOOD . I keep the City of London public-house, York-road, Camden-town—on 9th October the prisoner came, just as it was getting dusk, and asked for a glass of sixpenny ale, which came to 1 1/2 d.,—he three a half-crown on the counter—I rather suspected the ring, tried it in a detector, bit it, and told him it was bad—he took it, put it in his month and said, "Yes, it is; I am very sorry; it is the first one I ever took"—he then gave me a florin, and I gave him 1s., 10 1/2 d., change—I bent it, but should not know it again—Mr. Voke, who had watched him through my window, then came in, and called my attention to the prisoner, who was talking to a woman, on the other side of the street, two hundred yards off—I told him to watch them, and he went out.

EDWARD BURNS . I keep the Newmarket Arms, North-road, Camden-town, three or four hundred yards from Mr. Wood's—on 9th October, about 5 o'clock, the prisoner came with another man, and called for a pint of half-and-half, which came to 2d.,—he gave me a half-crown—I was just going to look at it, when his companion said, "This is not the best half-and-half; let us have a pint of old ale; you paid for the last, allow me to pay for this"—then he said, "Go on, take it out of the half-crown"—I drew the ale, and he said, "I mean a pennyworth," and threw down a penny—that was not the price of it; that was done to confuse me—I threw the half-crown in the till—there was no other half-crown there—I gave the prisoner 2s., and 4d., in copper—Voke, I believe, came in, and spoke to me, in consequence of which I went to the till, took out the half-crown, and found it was bad—I tried it with my teeth—this is it (produced)—I put it down on the counter, and the prisoner took it up, saying, "A bad one?" and put it in his pocket—he then gave me 3s., and I gave him 6d., out—a constable came in, and said to the prisoner, "Where is the half-crown?"—the prisoner said that he had not got it, and that I did not give it to him—I said that I had—his companion went away, and I went to the station with the prisoner, and as we went there, he threw away this half-crown—I picked it up, and gave it to the constable.

Prisoner. Q. Did I have the change for the half-crown previous to the penny being paid for the ale? A. Yes—when I took the penny the half-crown was in the till—while I was taking the change out, my wife came and spoke to me, but she took nothing out of the till—you spoke to nobody behind the bar but me—you remained at my bar two minutes after I said that it was bad—I did say, while the policeman was there, "I wish this had not happened, because I have hardly got time to charge you"—you went to my door, and the policeman took you—you had not gone twenty yards; you might have gone a yard or two—mine is a corner house, and the bar is at an angle, and looks two ways—there is no corner window, but I could see you after you left the house, because I went to the door—I marked the half-crown on the head with my teeth, and know that it is the same.

EDWARD KEEFE (Policeman, N 465). I was called to Mr. Burns, and the prisoner was given in my charge—I saw him throw away something, going to the station, and the prosecutor picked up this counterfeit half-crown, and

gave it to me—this is it—I found on the prisoner a shilling, a sixpence, and a fourpenny-piece.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see what money I gave the landlord in compensation? A. No, but I saw him return you 6d.,—you gave your address, 24, Wellesley-street, Euston-square, which is correct.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to her Majesty's Mint—this half-crown is bad.

Prisoner's Defence. I am very cautious in taking money, but my eyes must have deceived me. I cannot tell how long I had had the half-crown. The woman I was speaking to asked me the way to King's-cross, and I told her, and the young man who spoke to me was a picture dealer who I know. I certainly did go into the first public-house, and have a glass of ale, and I called for a pint of half-and-half in the second. I paid with the first coin that came up in my pocket, and did not know it was bad. I was in deep conversation concerning business, and put it down carelessly.

GUILTY.** Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1066
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1066. FREDERICK LECAILLE (23) , Feloniously setting fire to a stack of hay, the property of Charles Murray; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .—His sister stated that he was of weak intellect, and had

attempted his own life.— Judgment Respited.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1067
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1067. CHARLES ELLIS (18), and JOHN WILSON (20) , Feloniously setting fire to a stack of hay, the property of Charles Emerson; to which they

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months each.

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, October 29th, 1862.


Before Lord Chief Baron Pollock.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1068
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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1068. MICHAEL HENNESSY (24) , Feloniously stabbing, cutting, and wounding James Dray, with intent to murder him. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. CLERK and BRASLEY conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES DRAY (Policeman, F 106). On the afternoon of 6th October, I was called in to the Brown Bear public-house, in Broad-street, St. Giles, and found a great disturbance in the house—the prisoner was there, and two other men, named Brown and Wallis—as soon as I and another constable got inside the house, they said, "You are two of Garibaldi's men, ain't you?"—I said, "I don't know about that"—Brown and Wallis then both struck me—I then said to the landlord, "Let nobody go out, or come in; these persons have struck me; I will keep them in custody till I get more assistance"—I laid hold of Brown, and struggled with him—Wallis then struck me—Brown was on my right, Wallis in front of me, and the prisoner on my left—I felt something run into my eye like a lance—it was not like a blow—if it had been a blow, it would have knocked me backwards—I did not see who gave me that—the landlord closed the door—the prisoner ran into the bar—the other two men got against the doorway after they saw I was stabbed, and tried to go out—further assistance came, and the prisoner was secured.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. What time was this? A. Three o'clock in the afternoon—it was, I believe, the day after some persons had been

making a noise in the Park, and had been taken before the Magistrate—the Brown Bear is a long distance from Marlborough-street—I cannot say how many of the people in the public-house had been at the police-court—there were not many there when I got to the public-house—I was sent for by the landlord, to quiet the disturbance—there were only three engaged in the disturbance when I got inside—I did not see any others go out as I went in—after I was struck by the other two men I tried to keep them in custody—those two were summarily convicted before the Magistrate.

JOHN DRAYTON (Police-sergeant, F 29). I was called in on the afternoon of 6th October to the Brown Bear—I saw the prisoner there, and the last witness was struggling with two men—I assisted him, and pulled one back—I then saw the prisoner's right hand come from his right pocket, and strike last witness—I saw the blade of a knife protrude through the prisoner's hand—I saw the blood run down last witness's face immediately—the prisoner ran behind the bar—I followed him—he attempted to get over the counter, and I got hold of him, and brought him back—I went back to search for the knife, but could not find it.

Cross-examined. Q. Were the other two men close by at the time the blow was struck? A. One was about half a yard away—this occurred in what they called the private box, about two yards away from the counter—the counter was covered with metal—the prisoner was secured before he could get out of the house—I searched the premises immediately afterwards, but could find no knife—he was searched at the station—the house was searched about twenty minutes afterwards—I am perfectly clear about seeing the knife in the prisoner's hand—I could not see the handle—it appeared to be a very small blade.

RICHARD BUDD PAINTER . I am a surgeon in Brydges-street, Covent-garden—I was called to attend the constable—I found a wound on the left eyebrow, an inch and a quarter long, presenting the appearance of an incised wound—it had penetrated to the bone—that would not be any depth there, merely through the skin—it might have been produced by a sharp instrument, but I have seen wounds just over the sharp ridge of the eyebrow, which have been produced by a blow, presenting the appearance of an incised wound—in those cases the cutting was from the inside, from the ridge of the bone—I cannot swear that this was an incised wound, or that it was done with any instrument—a knife would have produced it—the edges were quite clear cut.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose the head being forced against the sharp metallic edge of a counter would do it? A. It is quite possible.

GUILTY of Unlawfully wounding. Confined Nine Months

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1069
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1069. JOHN JOSEPH PARKER (39) , Feloniously shooting at Matthew Charles Parker with a loaded pistol with intent to murder. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.

MATTHEW CHARLES PARKER . I am half-brother to the prisoner, and live at 57, Museum-street, Bloomsbury—on 13th October, about 12 o'clock, I was in George-street, St. Giles's, and met the prisoner there—he fired a pistol at my face—I turned round, staggered for a moment, and fearing he might fire again, I ran away, through Russell-street, into Hanway-street, where we were both stopped—a pistol was taken from him; and I went to the station and charged him, and from there I went to the hospital—I might have been a few yards from the prisoner when he fired—when he was following me I

saw another pistol, or something like it, in his hand—two shots were taken from my face at that time.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. The shots were only skin deep, were they? A. Just so—the pistol from which the shots came was fired close to me—he ran after me when I ran away—he was not very close behind me—he might have been twenty yards away—he might have fired the pistol at my back if he had wished to kill me—I have heard that my brother has been suffering very much from ill health—I don't know that he has suffered from pecuniary difficulties—I had not seen him for the last three months—ill health and pecuniary difficulties might have preyed on his mind—that is my opinion—I do not think he really meant to kill me—I think it was merely to intimidate me.

PETER SHEPHERD . I live at 2, Hamilton-street, Camden-town, and am a pianoforte tuner—on the morning of 13th October I was in Bainbridge-street, St. Giles's, and saw the prisoner—he passed me at the corner of Bainbridge-street and George-street, and rushed immediately on to his brother as he came out of a house there, and deliberately fired a pistol in his face; the brother turned and ran away; the prisoner followed, and I followed them; they were stopped at the corner of Hanway-street—I took the second pistol from the prisoner—he had it over a man's shoulder; I could not say whether he was in the act of shooting it, but it was ready cooked, and pointed at the prosecutor.

COURT. Q. Was it loaded? A. It was, with these four slugs (produced), and this (produced) is the pistol I took from the prisoner.

MR. DICKIE. Q. Was there a cap on the nipple? A. There was—when I took it from him he said that he would give himself up to the police.

JOHN HEAD (Policeman, E 89). On 13th October, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I was on duty in Tottenham Court-road—I saw a crowd assembled, and found the prisoner detained by some person—I took him in custody—he said, "All right, I will go with you, I am guilty"—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found a discharged pistol, with an exploded cap on.

THOMAS PARSONS HONEY (Police-inspector, E). I was on duty on 13th October, when the prisoner was brought in—I found nothing on him; the pistol was handed to me by Shepherd—I found it loaded—I went to the hospital, and saw two shots taken out of the prosecutor's right cheek.

Cross-examined. Q. The charge of powder in the pistol was very small, was it not? A. Yes; there were, four slugs, and four or five pieces of paper.

SAMUEL JONES GEE . I am house surgeon at University College Hospital—on 13th October the prosecutor was brought there—I examined his face, and found seven or eight small circular wounds about the forehead and right cheek, and from each of them I extracted two shots, and the day after two more.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe they were merely skin deep? A. The deepest was about half an inch in—I had some difficulty in getting two of them out.

GUILTY on the Second Count.

The prisoner received a good character, and was recommended to mercy by

the prosecutor.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Baron Martin.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1070
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1070. ROBERT COOPER, alias Baker, alias Copeland (32), was indicted for the wilful murder of Ann Jane Barnham.

MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.

SARAH BARNHAM . I am the wife of James Barnham, of Zion-lane, Isleworth, and am the mother of the deceased Ann Jane Barnham—I have known the prisoner rather better than four years—he was married to the deceased on 29th September, 1858, in the name of Charles Robert Copeland—she lived with him as his wife for some time, up to about eighteen months ago—they had two children; one is alive, and one is dead; the name of the one who is living is Mary Ann—my daughter went home to her grandfather and grandmother, who brought her up—she did not take her maiden name again, but she was called by that name through the village; she always went by the name of Barnham—I remember the 7th August last—the prisoner came to my house the afternoon before that, and stayed there that afternoon, had tea with me, and waited until my father came home from his work at the Duke of Northumberland's; he said that Annie and my mother were coming—my daughter was not at home when the prisoner came, she was at Richmond helping her sister do her work—she came home it might be from 6 to 7 o'clock—we have no clock; my father leaves the Duke of Northumberland's, which is about a mile off, at 6 o'clock, and when he came in he said that Annie and my mother were coming—the prisoner went into the washhouse—he was there when she came in—I went to the washhouse and called him out; he was doing something with his back towards me—he came out, and my mother came in at the time—she told him not to come there to up set her child, as she called her, for she said she had told her about his ill-treatment to his first wife, who he had married thirteen years ago—she told him to leave the house as he had upset her so the night before, telling her that he had married his first wife thirteen years ago, and that he would write and ascertain the rights of it whether she was alive or dead—my daughter told him that she could not trust him any more, and she had made up her mind that she would not live with him again, as his brother had told her he had had wives before, and that a policeman might come at any moment and take him as a deserter from several regiments, and she had made up her mind to stay with her grandmother, and do the best she could for herself and child—he went across the room, took her by the hand, and said, "Then we will part mutual, Annie; I shall marry another woman; will you interfere with me if I do?"—she said, "No, I never will, if you will let me rest in peace;" she said, "I am a wife, and no wife"—they seemed very comfortable and quiet then, and he left the house very quietly—he left alone—I am speaking now of the Wednesday evening; the murder happened on the Thursday, the 7th—on the Thursday the prisoner came to my house after dinner; he came alone; he asked me where Annie was—I told him she was gone to Richmond to help her sister do her work, with my mother, and she would return with her—he stayed there that afternoon and had tea with me—he took some letters from his coat pocket, and a likeness of Annie, and showed me the likeness, and asked me if I knew it—I said, "Yes, it is Annie; there she is"—he said, "Yes," and he would not harm a hair of her head, for she had been a good girl to him; he put it back in his pocket again—he stayed there till she came home from Richmond, and then he went up on the top of the railway steps that lead to the top of the road—my mother told him to go away, or she would give him up to the police for desertion—I went out at the door, and beckoned to him to go away, and I would come down the lane to him—my daughter Annie said, "Wait a moment, mother, I will put on my boots and go down the lane; if I don't, grandmother will give him up"—we went down the lane, and halfway down the lane there is a turn that brings you across

where the neighbours were looking at the riflemen shooting; I went down there, and met the prisoner at the bottom; he was looking over at the riflemen shooting—I left my daughter talking to some women, and went across the road to Mr. Blackburn's to fetch a pint of beer—when I came back with the beer my daughter, the prisoner, and my father, were all standing talking together; we all four drank out of the beer—my daughter then turned on the Hounslow-road to go to Hounslow; the prisoner followed her, and I turned round the corner and watched them—that was the last I saw of her that night; I never saw her again alive; I saw her the following morning, dead, at the union workhouse—some months before, I remember seeing the prisoner at Chelsea—I found three bullets which were left in his waistcoat-pocket—I showed them to my daughter—the prisoner was not there at the time, he came home at dinner-time; I showed them to him when he came home—my daughter told me that he brought them home for us—she said, "Charley brought these home from, Ireland, and said one was for you, one for me, and one for the first man that took him"—I showed them to him, and he made no remark about them at all; he only laughed.

Q. Had you at any time any conversation with the prisoner about his having been previously married? A. Yes—my daughter and I went one Sunday, I cannot tell the day, about eighteen months ago, and found his brother in Red Lion-passage, and I there found he had married my daughter in the wrong name, Copeland; I found his name was Cooper, and his brother took me to the sister's husband—the prisoner came there while we were all there—the brother-in-law came, and my daughter told him how cruelly Cooper had treated her—he said he had treated her kindly to what he had done the other—I said, "What do you mean by the other?"—he said, "His first wife"—he said her name was Alice; he did not tell her surname—he said he had kept her at his house for some time, and would again, for she was a very nice little woman—he said, "I would advise you, Annie, to keep out of his way, and not live with him again."

Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. When did you first tell any one that portion of the evidence you have given finding out about his being named in a different name? A. The first I told of it, I think, was Mr. Golding, that married them at Isleworth; I have not said it in any Court, but I have said it repeatedly all over the world; I said so at Brentford; I am sure of that—we met at Brentford twice—I found the bullets in the prisoner's pocket, and my daughter said in his presence, "One was for me, one for you, and one for the man that took him"—I afterwards mentioned that to my family; I don't know that I did to Rosina; she was at service—she was in the habit of coming backwards and forwards to my house whilst she was in service.

Q. I suppose you did not think there was any truth in it at the time it was said? A. I don't know; he had a knife in a neighbour's house, and the police can prove chasing him round the fields—I should be very sorry to say my daughter was not faithful to him, and I do not think he can say so—she was not visited, that I am aware of, by a person who went by the name of Jem—I never saw any person visit her at my house—I am sure of that—I have seen her with a person of the name of Jem, whom I asked to come home with us, because I was afraid to come home alone; that was not more than once; I am quite certain of that—she has not been with any one else, that I know of; I am quite certain of it—I do not know a person named Turner—I know George Lights, a bargeman—I have

seen her speak to him in the streets, nothing further—she was not in the habit of going out in the streets of an evening; she never did unless cooper sent for her, and then chased her up one street and down another from Chelsea home to Brentford—it might be eighteen months, or longer, that he has been separated from her—he has been in the habit of coming backwards and forwards in the neighbourhood during that time—he was not in the habit of giving her money during that time until he was at Petersfield, or some such place—she has never had support from him to get her even a piece of dry bread since she first knew him; she would have been starved, but for my father and mother; they kept her and him too for eight long months.

ROSINA BARNHAM . I was in service at 25, Richmond-green, last August—the deceased, Ann Jane Barnham, was my sister—on Sunday, 3d August, I saw the prisoner with her at Richmond—they came to my mistress's after me—I was not at home, and they came to St. John's Church—I saw them as they came out of church—as we walking from church the prisoner said, "Rose, your sister has given me a firm denial that she won't live with me any longer"—I said, "Well, Charley, you had better take that as a denial"—he said, holding three bullets in his hand, "Before I do I shall give this one to your sister, the next to your mother, and the last to the first man that takes me"—I saw three bullets in his hand—he did not say this in a laughing way; he looked very serious—he said to my sister, "Are you going to sleep with me?"—she said, "No, Charley, I am not; I am never going to sleep with you, nor live with you again"—he said, "You shall have no more money unless you do sleep with me to-night"—she said, "Charley, those threats will not do"—he then said that he was a spotted man, meaning a marked man—my sister told him that as she had heard he had more wives living, she would never live with him again—we did not go home then, we walked round the town—nothing more passed that I recollect—this was on the Sunday—my sister came over to me on the Thursday morning—the prisoner was not there then—that was the last time I saw my sister alive—I did not see the prisoner again until 23d August, when he was taken into custody.

Q. Do you know whether the prisoner had been in the habit of giving your sister money for the support of the child? A. He sent her some while he was at Petersfield, in Hampshire.

THOMAS MADDOCK . I am a gardener, living at Brentford—on the evening of Thursday, 7th August, I was coming from work at Isleworth—between the Chequers and the Union Workhouse, I met the deceased, and the prisoner walking with her—it was, as near as I can say, between half-past 8 and twenty-five minutes to 9 when I got to the toll-gate at Brentford—I saw them stop at the Chequers public-house.

EPHRAIM COUGHTOY . I am ostler at the Chequers, in Isleworth—on the evening of 7th August, I saw the prisoner and the deceased come to the house, between 8 and 9 o'clock—they had a pint of ale to drink—I saw them leave the Chequers—there is a lane nearly opposite the Chequers called Brazil Mill-lane—it is the second turning on the right from the Chequers—the prisoner and the woman went in that direction, towards Brazil Mill-lane—I did not see whether they turned into the lane or not.

Cross-examined. Q. You were close to the prisoner when he was in the public-house, were you not? A. Yes; I could not see that he was wearing any moustache—I did not notice any moustache.

JAMES HEDGES . I am groom to Mr. Farnell, who resides in Brazil Mill-lane,

Isleworth—on the evening of Thursday, 7th August, about twenty-five minutes to 9, I left my house to go to the stables—at the corner of Brazil Mill-lane, I saw a man and a woman talking together; the woman was Ann Barnham, the deceased, and I believe the man was the prisoner—I heard the man say to the woman, "I have told you of it before"—that was all I heard—I passed on to my stables—on coming back I heard that the woman had been shot—it was the same woman that I had seen at the corner, Ann Barnham; she was then dead, or dying.

Cross-examined. Q. The man you saw with the woman had a slight moustache on, had he not? A. Yes; I only speak to the best of my belief as to the prisoner—I could not swear to the man.

COURT. Q. The woman you knew, I suppose? A. The woman I knew again.

THOMAS JAMES BARNHAM . I live at Isleworth, and am assistant to my father, who is the sexton—I am a cousin of Ann Barnham—on Thursday, 7th August, I was coming along Brazil Mill-lane about twenty minutes to a quarter past 9 in the evening, towards the Chequers—there is a bridge in the lane—I suppose that is about a hundred yards from the lower end of the lane, the end nearest to the Chequers—it was near the bridge where I saw them—I met the prisoner and the deceased in the lane—I had not known the prisoner for any length of time before—I had seen him before that evening—I saw him along with the deceased in Brentford once—when I saw them they were going up the lane from the Chequers—after I passed them, and before I got to the other end of the lane by the Chequers, I did not meet any other person—I did not notice whether the person who was walking with my cousin had a moustache or not.

JOSEPH BURNESS . I am a baker at Isleworth—as I was turning down Brazil Mill-lane, on Thursday, 7th August, about a quarter or ten minutes to 9 in the evening, I heard two persons quarrelling; it was a man and a woman, but I did not know who they were—I went along the lane towards the bridge—they came on behind me and passed me, when I stopped—I went on to the bridge and there stopped, and they passed me there, whilst I was on the bridge—they got about a hundred and fifty yards past the bridge, and I noticed the man go across the road and look in a ditch; they were then before me—the woman went on as far as the brewhouse gates, and when she got to the brewhouse gate the man overtook her—I was staying behind them—they went on about thirty-six yards in the same direction—I passed them about thirty-six yards on this side where she was picked up, and they were shaking hands together—I went before them and passed them as they were shaking hands—I had gone about 136 yards when I heard the report of fire-arms—I looked round and saw smoke going over into the garden—I did not go back to the spot, I turned round—I did not meet the witness Barnham in the lane, I met him out of the lane—I had not seen any person in the lane except those two—it was right out of the lane that I met Barnham, in the Twickenham-road—I did not notice a moustache on the man—I did not take particular notice.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose it was getting dark about this time, was it not? A. It was dark, rather dark—I could not see anybody at the distance of 136 yards; it was too dark.

JAMES AUDEN . I am a letter-carrier—I went along Brazil Mill-lane on the evening of 7th August, about ten minutes to 9—I was coming down the lane from the Chequers—there is a Mr. Burchett who lives in the lane; his garden wall is in the lane—as I passed Mr. Burchett's wall I saw a man

running towards me—I have not seen that person since—I did not know him—I can't identify him—a little further on in the lane I found a woman lying in the path—she was alive when I saw her—her bonnet was on fire—she appeared to be quite insensible—I assisted in taking her to the station house, and sent for the doctor—I was not there when Mrs. Barnham, the mother, came.

JOHN MACKINLAY . I am a doctor of medicine and surgeon, at Isleworth—on Thursday evening, 7th August, I was called to see a woman in the lane, on a report that a woman had been shot—a stranger came for me—she was on a stretcher when I saw her, in a dying state—life continued some little time along the road—being surgeon to the Union I ran on to give orders for her reception, but by the time she was taken off the stretcher is the infirmary she was dead—I examined her—I found a penetrating wound behind the ear, and I found portions of brains scattered about the neck and hair—I made a post-mortem examination by order of the coroner—I opened the head and found a bullet in the head—that was unquestionably the came of her death—in my judgment the bullet caused the wound that I saw the night before—that was certainly the cause of death.

CHARLES BROWN . I am a constable of the City-police, No. 654—on 22d August I went to Cubitt's-town, Poplar, in company with some other constables—I saw the prisoner at a house there—I first saw him against the door, in the shop—I asked him if he would allow me to look at his mouth—I did so in reference to a tooth being out—after that I asked him whether he would come in the parlour, I wanted to speak to him—I then asked him if he had been in the 15th Lancers—I believe he said "Yes"—I searched him and asked to look at his person; I asked him if he had the letter D branded about him—he said "No"—on examining I found the letter D branded on his left arm.

Prisoner. You asked me if it was on my shoulder, and I said "No," no more it was; that was the reason of the contradiction.

Witness. I have no recollection of it.

Prisoner. It was under my left breast it was branded.

Witness. It was so.

MR. CLERK. Q. When you saw the letter D under his left arm did you see him do anything? A. I saw his right hand go down, apparently into his right-hand trousers pocket—I seized his hand directly—I examined the pocket, and found in it this pistol (produced)—I asked the prisoner whether it was loaded—he said "Yes"—I said "With bullet?"—he said it was—it is a percussion pistol—there was a cap on when I took it—I examined the pistol to see whether it was loaded with powder and ball—the ball still remains in the barrel—it is a screw pistol—Inspector Foulger took the powder out and discharged the cap for safety—besides the bullet in the pistol I found another bullet in his waistcoat pocket; this is it (produced)—I examined a white jacket, and found in the pocket of it a packet of seven letters—they were done up together as I produce them now—I showed them to the prisoner—on the outside of one of them is written, "My dear Annie, may the Lord have mercy upon me"—I showed those words to the prisoner, and said, "Does this mean Annie Barnham?"—he said "Yes"—I then told him I should apprehend him on the charge of the murder of Annie Barnham, at Isleworth, on 7th August—he made no observation to me when I said that—as I was taking him to the station he said, "I hope you don't think I intended to hurt either of you"—I said I did not believe he did—he said, "If you had not seized my arm so quick as you did I should have put

an end to my existence"—he likewise said, "If you had been two hours later you would have been too late, it would have been all over with me"—on his way from Bishopsgate to Brentford, he said that he was in Isleworth on the 7th of August—he said he was at the end of the lane with her grandfather and the mother—he said, "I watched Annie Barnham because I thought she was going to have intercourse with other men"—I found this photograph of the deceased—I asked him was that Annie Barnham, and he said Yes; it was.

RICHARD LYNES . I am a builder at Hammersmith—in June, this year, the prisoner was in my employment as a painter—I once saw him sign a receipt which the police have in their possession—I never saw him execute anything but his signature—I could not swear to his handwriting.

Cross-examined. Q. How long had the prisoner worked with you? A. Eight weeks, exactly—I had not known him before that time—he was employed as a painter—I am a decorator by trade—I had some business at this time at Petersfield, in Hampshire—I did not send the prisoner to London; my father did—that was on my business—my father was going down to the job at Petersfield, and I told him if the painters were at work close to the carpenters he was to send Baker (the prisoner) up again, as I had business for him in London—he was sent up, but I never saw him—he did not come to me—he was sent for that purpose.

JONATHAN JOHN KING . I am landlord of the Swan, at Isleworth—I remember hearing of the death of Annie Barnham, on Thursday, 7th August—on the Monday before that, the prisoner came and engaged a bed—he did not sleep there that night, or Tuesday night; he slept there on the Wednesday night—he had a bag with him—on the Thursday morning he left the house, and left the bag in the room where he had slept—he never returned—he had not engaged the room for any time; only by the night—he told me the bag might be left till Saturday; it might be called for; but nobody called for it—he had not told me, on the Thursday morning, whether he was coming back, or not—I did not know whether he was coming back or not.

The following letter was put in and read: "Isleworth, Wednesday evening. I am wretched, indeed. I am sorely depressed. I love my dear Annie. How can I see her with another man night after night, and promising me that she never do go with another man; but when I met her at 12 o'clock, or rather 1 o'clock, on Tuesday morning, arm-in-arm with another, and a little the worse for liquor, and when I accosted her, and she did not scarcely notice me, my blood at the very moment curdled, my brains were hot with passion, and Satan, that goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, I am his victim, and may the Lord have mercy. Oh, I cannot bear to live to see my dear, dearest Annie, that I love better than my own life. Yes, I would starve for her. I have fallen on my bended knees, while the tears fell like large drops of rain from mine eyes. I have begged, time after time, for her to be true to me, but she has discarded me, and how can I live when she has trifled with me whom she has once loved, and who knelt on his knees and prayed to his God, from his heart, to guard her life through her confinement, scarcely two years ago. Yes, I am sorry for her; my dear, dearest Annie, my heart bleeds for you. I am a wretched young man; I find you have deceived me. On Sunday, when I came from the country, you said you were happy to see me. I said, 'I am overjoyed to see you; and how is your dear babe, Mary Annie?' You said, 'Dear Charles, she is quite well,' and immediately kissed me. I

gave you ten shillings to put into your pocket, and you seemed quite glad, and said, 'Charles, you are very kind;' and you spent the remainder of the day with me; but when I asked you to stop with me till Monday, you said you could not, and I found out you wanted to meet another, and he was the one that you were with on Monday night, between 12 and 1 o'clock. Oh, Annie, my dearest, dear sweet Annie, how I love you; and that very day, in Brentford Park, you and I walked affectionately together with our lovely babe in your dear arms, and there you promised me that you would visit the Crystal Palace with me, on the Tuesday, and that I was to come early in the morning. I gave you a sovereign, and you went to fetch everything you thought best, to that amount, out of pledge, of your wearing apparel, and I found that it was all you wanted from me. Your grandmother told me to come and have some supper along with you, and you told me in the park you would go to bed early, as we had not much rest on the Sunday night, for you and I did not go to bed at your grandmother's till half-past 12 o'clock. I slept with you, and how affectionately you acted towards me, and promised, that day week or so, you would come back to your dear Charles; but when I went home to supper, you told your granny to say that you were gone to Turnham-green; but I myself thought different. Some sudden change came over me, and told me that you were with another, and my steps were directed to Hounslow, and it was there that I met you arm-in-arm with another; and your wicked mother—a bad, bad woman—she brought you to ruin. Many a time hast thou said those words to me, and, my dear, dear Annie, it is her that stole you from me, full of deceit. (Read the seventh chapter of Proverbs.) I was driven to commit the fatal deed; and oh! what an awful thing it is to commit murder; our dear babe left behind. Oh! young girls of Brentford, think of the result of tampering with a young man's feelings that love you; take my advice, and do not (here a word was omitted) a man that loves you. Look at me, poor, wretched, unhappy man, how kind I have been to my Annie—people knows it in Brentford (Mr. Upton does). I told him on Tuesday morning how unhappy I was; he pitied me. How can my Annie respect herself, and go on board barges up and down the river for two or three days? But the deed is done; look to my child. Good-bye. Farewell all who know me May God have mercy upon me. I am writing this in a public-house, in Isleworth. Annie, dearest Annie, if you had not tampered with me I should not have felt the pangs I now feel. How could you pull one young man's face downwards to yours, and kiss him, time after time, in front of me, and tell him you loved him, and yet told me quite different? Did I not send you ten shillings, and seven shillings, weekly, when I was away from you? I have wronged you, I confess, but I have been forgiven by you; and you told me my kindness made you so that you could not keep away from me. You really did love me, but your mother was the cause of our separation. I have suffered for her, and bad has come to her; she is the cause of all this. Good-bye, sweet Annie; oh, that I could lie is your grave with you, that we could be buried together, but I shall be else-where. I have watched and guarded you, and my heart has been breaking for you a long time. You remember telling me that your mother gave you those bruised eyes that you had a few weeks ago, but, Annie, I have found out that you told me a falsehood; it was at Ealing fair, by some man. You have deceived me, cruel-hearted Annie. Several men I know have cohabited with you. I hope they will remember seeing me. They may live to think of the manner in which you and I met our deaths; and all young females,

take a warning by me; do not deceive one that loves you. I leave this world a wretched sinner; and may the Lord have mercy upon my soul through the blood of Jesus Christ my Saviour."

EDWIN HARGRAVES . I live at 49, Milton-street, Barnsley, in Lancashire—in 1849, I was present when the prisoner was married to Ellen McLaren, in the church of St. Peter's, Barnsley—he was married by the name of Robert Cooper—I have seen the woman he married, alive, recently; six or eight weeks ago.

Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A cotton-weaver—I was present at the marriage, because she was lodging at my house—I knew the prisoner very well before—McLaren did not lodge with me after the marriage—she did for some weeks—the regiment the prisoner was in moved away, and she went away with him.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1071
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1071. GEORGE MAYER (17) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Ellis, and stealing 1 jar, 1 clock, and 1 gallon of run, his property.

HENRY ELLIS . I am a licensed victualler, of 35, Crown-street—on the night in question I left my premises, about half-past 11, in charge of a man in my employ—next morning I missed a stone bottle, a clock, and other things—this (produced) is the bottle; and this glass globe, which has rum in it, I left standing on the counter.

ROBERT ROSE . I was left in charge of the house by Mr. Ellis—it was closed between two and three hours before we went to bed—it was a little before 12 when we retired to rest—this jar and glass bottle were then quite safe in the bar—the shutter and the cellar flap were secure, to the best of my knowledge; I am certain the shutter was.

Prisoner. The policeman found him upstairs, dead drunk, and asleep, at half-past 12. Witness. I was sober.

GEORGE BYRNE (Policeman, C 114). On the morning of 10th October, I was on duty, about half-past 12—I saw the shutter of 35, Crown-street half-way open—I went and pulled it quite open, and saw the prisoner inside, with his left leg up, just in the act of coming out—I said, "What do you do there?"—he said, "All right; I have only looked in, as I know the landlord, and have used the house"—he then stepped outside, and I took him into custody, and sprang my rattle for assistance—another constable came—I placed him at the window, and took the prisoner to the station—I then returned to the premises, and just inside the sash, where I had seen the prisoner standing I found this bottle and glass—the clock was found in a dust-bin, in the cellar—I found the witness, Rose, and another man, asleep, upstairs; whether they were drank, or not, I could not say, but I thought they were.

JOSEPH BENTLEY (Police-sergeant, C 33). I went to the public-house—I examined the shutters, and found they had been forced open from the outside—I found the house in a very disorderly state—they appear to have had a distress in that day, and the furniture had been removed, but some few things remained in the bar—I went upstairs, and found the two men lying on a bench asleep, and certainly the worse for liquor—I found the clock in the dust-bin in the cellar.

Prisoner's Defence. About twenty minutes past 11 I went home, intending to go to bed, as I do every night at half-past 10, only I was rather late that night; when I got home they were sitting at work, my parents having an order to get out. I sat there about half an hour seeing them work, and then

went out to have a smoke, because they don't like my smoking at home. I went into Brewer-street, intending to come home round Oxford-street I thought I would go and see if Mr. Ellis was gone altogether. When I got to the skittle-ground by the back window I saw the shutter was open I looked in; it was all dark, I could not see anything. I put one leg inside, and was just coming out again, when the policeman came up. I could have got away from the policeman easily. Just as he caught me there was a scuffle in the front bar. He said there was somebody else inside, and just as he said it a door banged up the court. They could have got over Mr. Ellis's wall and got away. I declare that I am quite innocent; I am a respectable tradesman's son, and have witnesses here for my character. The sergeant went round to my last master and got my character, and he can speak about it.

JOSEPH BENTLEY (re-examined). The prisoner give me two addresses to go to as a reference to his character; one a Mr. Reynolds, a wire-worker, of 57, New Compton-street—Mr. Reynolds told me that he had been in his employ about eight or nine months, that he conducted himself very well, but that he had discharged him through his inability.

MARY MAYER . I am the prisoner's sister—my brother came home on 15th October about half-past 11 at night—he stopped about half an hour, and then went out with the intention of smoking a pipe, his father not liking him to smoke at home—we sat up, expecting him to come in every minute, but heard no more of him till the policeman came to say he was in custody—Mr. Reynolds is not here; he was not able to come, but he has sent a written character—Mr. Howard, who also has employed my brother, is not able to come—he has never been charged with anything before—he always sleeps at home.

HENRY ELLIS (re-examined). I have known the prisoner for some few weeks—I never knew anything against him, and sever heard anybody say anything against him; it has been more for him, than against him.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1072
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1072. JOHN BALMFORTH (a soldier), Feloniously assaulting Jane Lansdowne with intent to rob her.

JANE LANSDOWNE . I live at 24, Seymour-street, Portman-square—on 24th October I was in Hyde-park—I saw the prisoner there—I had never seen him before—he came up and asked me to have something to drink—I said, No; I wished for nothing to drink—I walked on a little space, and he came behind me suddenly, and caught hold of me—he first said he would have my life or my money—I then walked on a little space—he followed me, and caught hold of me very roughly by the shoulder—I took my money out of my pocket—he put his hand into my pocket—I walked on till I came to the corner of the arch near the Duke of Wellington's statue, where I met two policemen—I was very much excited and frightened—I spoke to them but did not tell them what had occurred, I thought the prisoner would go and leave me—I called them, and they took him into custody—this was about half-past 3 in the afternoon—it was raining very hard—the policemen got me into a cab, and the cab was just going away, when the prisoner rushed after me, and jumped into the cab—I jumped out, and gave him into custody—he was a perfect stranger to me.

Prisoner. She says I attempted to rob her; I never did. I should be sorry to interrupt any young woman; I would rather assist her.

The Witness. He was drunk at the time—there was no one in the park—it was a storm, and was raining very hard—he took me suddenly by the shoulder, and put his hand into my pocket.

DAVID GRANT (Policeman, A 228). About half-past 3 o'clock on Friday, 24th October, I was on duty at Apsley-gate, and saw the prosecutrix and prisoner coming towards me—she seemed very much excited—she said the prisoner was following her and annoying her, and wanting money from her—I asked her if she knew him—she said she had never seen him before—I asked him what he wanted to be following the young woman for—he said that he knew her by keeping company with her before—I said I did not believe that, she did not appear to know anything of him, and I advised him to go away and leave her—she said if she got a cab she would get into it and get away from him—another constable called a cab, and when she got into it the prisoner made use of a very bad expression, and said he would not leave her till he had had something out of her—he ran to the cab, and attempted to get in—he opened the door on one side, and she jumped out on the other, and gave him into custody for attempting to rob her.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see me touch her, or take anything from her? A. No; I saw nothing of that.

JOHN DAVIS (Policeman, A 576). I was on duty at Hyde-park-corner with the last witness—I saw the prosecutrix coming up the Park followed by the prisoner—she appeared to be very much excited—she said the prisoner had followed her across the Park, and repeatedly asked her to give him money to get some beer, which she had refused to do—I asked if she knew him—she said, "No"—I requested him to go away—he made use of very bad expressions, and said he would not till he had money to get some ale—I called a cab, and opened the door—he attempted to get in, and said he would not leave her company—I succeeded in putting her into the cab, and it drove away—the prisoner followed it, undid the door, and attempted to get in at one side—the prosecutrix jumped out at the other door, and gave him into custody, saying he had attempted to rob her in coming across the park.

Prisoner's Defence. I had plenty of money of my own; it is all false about attempting to rob her. If I had attempted to ill use or rob her in a place like that, somebody must have seen it; there are always scores of people about. The fact is, I was mistaken in the young lady. She is very much like a young lady that I kept company with; that was the reason I stopped her.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1073
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

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1073. JAMES AUSTEN (23), and CHARLES GREEN (26) , Stealing 1 purse, 14 postage, and 7s., of a person unknown, from the person.

MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.

GEORGE WILLIAMS . I am a surveyor's clerk, of 8, River-streeet, Myddleton-square—on Saturday evening, 27th September, about half-past 6, I was standing at the corner of Farringdon-street, near the Holborn-hill end—I saw the prisoners together—there were two ladies and a gentleman looking in at a shop window—the prisoners were very near them—the ladies moved from there towards Snow-hill; the prisoners followed them—I watched them—on going up Snow-hill, Green went in front of the ladies, while Austen was behind them—I saw Austen put his hand into one of the ladies' pockets and draw a purse from it—he then called out, "All right," and Green came from the front of the ladies, and they both turned into a court—I saw the purse in Austen's hand open, and he gave something from it to Green—they then walked together down to Victoria-street—it was coin that he gave him, rather a dull colour; it was not pence; it was silver if anything—Austen

went into the Victoria public-house—Green went and stood with his back against the barriers of Victoria-street—he then crossed the road to a man who was standing outside the public-house, and gave something to him; I could not say what it was—I called the constable, Crouch, and gave Green into custody; at least I told him to keep his eye on him while I went after the other man, but I could not find him.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Was it dusk or dark at the time you saw the prisoners? A. No; it was light—I was about three yards from them when I first saw them together, and about the same distance from the ladies—I saw them together for about five minutes—I mentioned at Guildhall about Austen's putting his hand into the lady's pocket, and withdrawing a purse—I was able to see what it was that was withdrawn—I was behind Austin and the ladies—there might have been several persons passing to and fro—I may have been about four yards from Austin at the time he took the purse—the gentleman was not then with the ladies—he left them after they had left the shop window—I did not see which way he went—it might have been after he left that the act was committed—I won't swear that it was—it was not afterwards—I lost sight of the gentleman just at the corner of King-street all at once—he went up Snow-hill with the ladies—I won't swear whether the act was committed before or after he left them—I did not say anything to the lady about what had been done—I did not lose sight of the prisoners at all, only while I went to look after another constable—that was after I had spoken so Crouch—I do not know the name of the court which the prisoners went up—I did not go into it myself—they were not there a minute—I saw them go in and come out again—they only went just about two yards inside the court—that was before I had spoken to Crouch—it was opposite the Victoria, thirty or forty yards from the court where I spoke to Crouch—I am clerk to a Mr. Smith, of Mortimer-street, Regent-street—I am still in his employment—I did not speak to the lady, because if I had followed her I should have lost sight of the prisoners.

WILLIAM CROUCH (City-policeman, 219). On Saturday evening, 20th September, about half-past 6, the last witness made a communication to me in consequence of which I took Green into custody—I searched him at the station, and found on him 7s., 11d., fourteen postage-stamps, a gentleman's collar and neck-tie, and a penknife—I saw the prisoner Austen afterwards at the Guildhall Police-court—he was pointed out to me by the last witness—I had seen him in Victoria-street on the night in question.

Cross-examined. Q. Where were you first communicated with? A. At the bottom of Farringdon-street—both the prisoners were pointed out to me—I was going over the road to them, and I lost sight of Austen, but caught hold of Green—I know the court the last witness speaks of—I believe it is called George-court, but I am not sure.

CHARLES BAKER . I am a City detective officer—I was at Guildhall Police-court on 22d September, while Green was under examination—in consequence of some information I received, I went with Foulkes and Williams into Basinghall-street, and opposite the Secondaries' Office there I saw Austen and another man—Williams pointed Austen out to me—I let them pass me, I then seized hold of them both, and told them I was a detective officer—Austen was taken to Guildhall, and was recognised by Crouch—I found 6 1/2 d., in coppers on him—I examined his coat, and found that the inner part was like a pocket, made with a flap to cover it, so that the hand can pass through—he has the coat on now (examining it)—it has been pinned up since, or sewn.


Austen was further charged with having been before convicted.

JAMES BLOGG (Policeman, G 124). I produce a certificate—(This certified the conviction of Eugene Burke, at Clerkenwell Sessions, on 27th April, 1857, of larceny. Sentence—Six Months)—Austen is the person who was convicted in that name.


AUSTEN**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

GREEN— Confined Twelve Months.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, August 29th, 1862.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1074
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1074. ROBERT EVAN DAWSON (18) , Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement to a bill of exchange with intent to defraud.

MR. SLEIGH and MATTHEWS conducted the Prosecution and MR. MC INTYRE the Defence. MR. MC INTYRE stated that he could not struggle with the facts of the case; and the prisoner having, in the hearing of the Jury, stated that he wished to plead guilty, the Jury found him GUILTY of Uttering. Six Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1075
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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1075. DAVID BRYAN (22), CATHERINE CASEY (19), CATHERINE BRYAN (17) , Unlawfully assaulting Thomas Childs and James Alfred Lammas, police-officers, in the execution of their duty.

MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM ORGAR . I am the son of the proprietor of the Old King's Arms public-house, 104, Holborn-hill—I have seen the prisoners there several times—on 6th October, about 8 o'clock in the evening, I was standing outside the house, and saw them there—David Bryan was very drunk; Casey was with him—I did not see Catherine Bryan at that time—David Bryan went into the house and was very noisy—the person in the bar refused to serve him—Casey was the only one in the bar with him—she was trying to persuade him to go out, but did not succeed—he continued making such a noise that it was impossible to carry on the business, and we tried to eject him—I fetched Childs, a constable, who tried to persuade him to go out quietly—Bryan said that he should not go out for him, or for anybody, until he was served with a pint of beer—Childs still persevered in endeavouring to induce him to leave—Childs and I then caught hold of him and got him as far as one of the doors—he caught hold of my arm and wrenched it round—I have felt pain ever since—we did not use more violence than was necessary—we succeeded in getting him out, and he remained outside making a noise—a large crowd collected outside, and I gave him in Childs' custody for assaulting me—Casey went out peaceably, and I shut the doors—Lammas came up and went to Childs' assistance—they both endeavoured to disperse the mob, and secure Bryan—I saw Bryan kick Childs, and catch hold of his stock and try to strangle him—I then ran to the station to get the assistance of other constables, and when I came back, I found the crowd still congregated, and the scuffle going on—the traffic could not get by, and was obliged to go round—two officers had then got Catherine Bryan in custody—that was the first I saw of her—she was behaving violently, and trying to kick them.

Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. How soon after you had forced him out, did you give him in custody? A. Not three minutes—he struggled hand—I know now that Catherine Bryan is his sister—there was no one at our door but me; my father was ill in bed with a bad leg, and my mother was behind the bar.

ROBERT THOMAS CHILDS (City-policeman, 232). On 6th October, in consequence of a communication made to me, I went to Mr. Orgar's house, and found Bryan and Casey at the bar—Bryan was drunk, and was creating a great disturbance, and using foul language, so as to prevent the carrying on of the business—Mrs. Orgar was behind the bar trying to induce him to go away—young Mr. Orgar endeavoured to get him to leave—I was required to assist, and requested him to go peaceably—he said that he did not care a b——for any of us, and used very indecent language—I and Orgar proceeded to put him out—we did not use more force than was necessary, and Orgar gave him in custody for an assault, and being drunk and disorderly—when I had got him outside he was still very riotous—I endeavoured to get him away—Lammas came up, and we took him in custody—he at once commenced kicking and plunging—he kicked me several times, and seized me by the throat several times, and pressed me by the throat—we had a long struggle, and both fell to the ground several times—he was kicking me the whole time we were struggling, both when down and up, about the legs and different parts of the body, and at length he gave me a severe kick on the lower part of my stomach, which made me sick and powerless—that was when I was on the ground—the women kicked me on the legs, and endeavoured to rescue him, and the others kicked me as well—I did not strike Bryan with my truncheon—I was obliged to place myself under the care of a surgeon—I was in the hospital for one night—I have suffered ever since, and was obliged to relinquish my duties some time.

Cross-examined. Q. What charge did young Mr. Orgar make against Bryan? A. Being drunk and disorderly, and assaulting him—it requires considerable force to remove such a person as Bryan when he is tipsy—I used all my strength, and so did Mr. Orgar—Bryan was talking very loudly outside, and swearing—as soon as I got outside, he came towards me in a very violent manner, and as he came up to put his hands upon me, I pushed him away—a crowd very soon collected—there was a crowd round us during the entire struggle; a great many of them were Irish—the two female prisoners kicked me as well.

JAMES ALFRED LAMMAS (City-policeman, 274). I went to Childs' assistance—I took Bryan for being drunk and disorderly, and assaulting Orgar—Childs had him on one side and I on the other—I was on his right—he got Childs by his stock, and got him down—I thought he would strangle him, and made him release his hold, but he got hold of his stock again and got him down, and kicked him very violently in the stomach—the two female prisoners also kicked him while he was down—he became very sick, and was obliged to be taken out of the crowd—I then had Bryan by myself—he made use of a dreadful oath and said, "I will hang at the Old Bailey for you"—he bit me through the fore finger, which caused the blood to come, even though it was through my glove—he also kicked me about the legs and in the stomach—I became very faint, and asked for help; two civilians helped me, who are here.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose all the crowd who could get a kick were kicking? A. Yes, most of them—there were a great number kicking—the female prisoners were taken to the station before Bryan was—Bryan was not taken in Farringdon-street, but by the church—Crouch took him.

WILLIAM CROUCH (City-policeman, 219). I went to assist the other constables, and saw Bryan kick Childs several times in the stomach, and on the legs—the women also kicked him.

SEDLEY WOLFERSTON . I am a surgeon, and a pupil of Mr. Childs—Childs and Lammas came to Mr. Childs' surgery the day afterwards, when Mr. Childs was out—Childs complained of a pain in the lower part of the abdomen when he attempted to move—he was not very unwell, for he had walked up there—I did not strip him or make an examination, because he told me that there were no external marks—the men were suspended from duty for a few days in consequence of the injuries they had received—that suspension of duty was necessary in my judgment.

ROBERT THOMAS CHILDS (re-examined). My legs were bruised in consequence of the kicks, and exhibited marks for some days—the surgeon did not examine them.

JAMES ALFRED LAMMAS (re-examined). I was bruised about the legs by this violence—the skin was knocked off, and I suffered pain for some days.

GUILTY of a common assault.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury; but MR. SLEIGH stated that Bryan was convicted of a like offence two years ago, for which he received twelve months' imprisonment, and that Casey had been repeatedly convicted of brutal assaults on the police.

DAVID BRYAN.*— Confined Twelve Months.



Confined Three Months each.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1076
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1076. WILLIAM GIBSON (32) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 750l., with intent to defraud; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Six Years' Penal Servitude.

There was another indictment against the prisoner.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1077
VerdictNot Guilty > directed

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1077. JOHN WINT (51), was indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury.

MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.

CHRISTOPHER CUFF . I am registrar of the Westminster County Court—the Judge of that Court is Mr. Francis Bailey—it is in St. Martin's parish—I recollect a case of Harmer and Wint coming on to be tried on 13th October—this is the original summons—it is for 17s., 6d., for money lent.

MR. TAYLOR, for the defendant, objected that this summons did not give the County Court, jurisdiction over the defendant, he not being a party to it, and that it was necessary to prove that he had been summoned.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Is that the document on which the trial took place? A. Yes; the defendant attended the trial on 13th October, and was sworn on the first occasion after Mr. Harmer's clerk had given his evidence; the copy of the summons bears the seal of the Court—a copy is served upon defendants—I cannot say whether Wint produced his copy when he appeared—we do not require proof of the service of summonses, but the officers are all sworn; that is the first business—the officer makes a return, and swears to the truth of it—this is the return (produced)—this (produced) is a copy of the minutes of the Court certified by me, and dated 2d March, 1858—(MR. TAYLOR renewed his objection; but THE COURT considered that, as the defendant appeared on the trial, and was examined as his own witness, there was evidence of his having received the summons, and of the jurisdiction of the Court over him)—the defendant was sworn by me as the defendant in the case and this I O U, which was produced by Mr. Bains, was handed up to him—one stood in one box, and owner in another—the defendant was asked

whether the signature was his—he said that it was not, and that he had never borrowed any money of the plaintiff—he was asked that more than once, and gave the same answer—he was cautioned about the signature by the Judge, who asked him to write his name, which he did—(MR. TAYLOR objected to the production of any document for the purpose of comparison, and MR. METCALFE withdrew it)—the Judge looked at what he had written, and then cautioned him, and asked him again whether this was his writing, and he said that it was not—the case was then adjourned for the attendance of Mr. Harmer, who appeared at a subsequent period of the same day—the defendant was then asked again, and said that this I O U was not his writing, and that he had never borrowed the money to his knowledge—it was an action for money lent, and it became material to know whether the money was lent.

EDWARD WILSON HARMER . I am in partnership with my father, as ironmongers, in the Horseferry-road, and was plaintiff, with him, in this cause in the County Court—we supplied the defendant with some goods in 1858—he owed us money at that time—we obtained a judgment against him in the County Court, Westminster, and execution issued—he came to me in March, 1858, when the Sheriff was in, and said that he was able to make up the amount within 17s.; and, if I would lend him that sum, he could pay the men out; if not, he must let his furniture go, and he should be ruined—I objected at first, but, on his pressing it, I lent it him, and drew up this I O U (Dated March 23d, 1858), which he signed—the body of it is my writing—I saw him write this "John Wint" on it, and gave him the money in my clerk's presence—I received a communication, and went to the Westminster County Court—I was examined as a witness, and stated that I had lent the defendant 17s., and saw him write the I O U—after I had given my evidence he was examined, and said, "I never had a shilling of Mr. Harmer in my life"—the Judge said, "You persist in denying that this is your signature to the I O U?"—he said, "I do"—the Judge asked him several times whether he persisted in his denial of the I O U, and then made an order for him to be prosecuted—I recollect very plainly lending him the money, and his signing the I O U.

Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. Q. When the Judge directed him to be prosecuted, did you offer to be bail for him? A. No—the defendant asked me if I would be bail for him. and I said, "Certainly not"—the defendant's wife came to me in March, 1858—I do not recollect her coming more than once—she did not ask me for the 17s.; she came to ask me to withdraw the men from the house—the debt was not so much as 35l.,—we had not very large transactions with the prisoner previous to that time—we have had transactions with him for about ten years from this time—he has not, during that time, paid us upwards of 2,000l., nor 200l., nor 100l.,—I only recollect his settling with us once previous to this—our terms are to settle every quarter, but we do not always get it—the account on which we summoned him had been running two years from the first item—I am confident that 100l., would fully cover our transactions with him—since the bailiffs were put in he has made a few trifling purchases, for which he has paid cash—he has not paid at the end of the week for what he has had—we keep a warehouse, not a shop—I have never sent in an account for this 17s., because we are not in the habit of lending money, but I have spoken to him about it several times in the street—I did so when I met him in the street a week previously, and he did not deny it, but pleaded poverty; he never denied it till he got to the County Court—he did not pay me something

like 50l., at the time of the Exhibition of 1851; it was under 10l.,—this amount was 17s., not 17s., 6d., but there was an error in taking out the plaint note.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Have you spoken to him about the 17s., before the summons was taken out? A. Yes; and he has admitted it, because he said that he could not pay it then—I do not think I alluded to the I O U on any of the occasions.

JOHN STERRY BAINES . I am clerk to Harmer and Son, of Horseferry-road—on 23d March, 1858, the defendant came to our office in Peter-street, and asked Mr. Edward Harmer to lend him some money, I do not remember what for, but the result was that he lent him 17s.,—I saw Mr. Harmer pay him that 17s.,—I saw a paper drawn up by Mr. Harmer, and saw the defendant sign it—I do not distinctly remember the amount of money lent, but I saw him sign the paper—I have come across that paper in business several times since, which has kept it in my memory—I attended at the County Court, and gave evidence to that effect, and heard the defendant deny borrowing the money—I have never spoken to him about it between 1858 and the present time.

COURT to EDWARD WILSON HARMER. Q. When you alluded to this debt repeatedly to him, did you ever name the sum? A. I did on one occasion; I said, "Seventeen shillings," and he said, "No; it is not so much"—I said, "Whatever it is, you ought to pay it."

MR. TAYLOR called

JAMES REYNOLDS . I am a builder, of 9, North-street, Westminster—I have known Wint about nine years—he was a member of the vestry four or five years ago—I always found him honest—I have lent him money the whole time, and he has paid me until he got into trouble.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Have you ever seen him write? A. Yes—I have lent him money on his I O U many times—this I O U is something like his, but it is smaller than he usually writes—I have I O U's of his which I have held four years—he is very careless; he would pay for an I O U without asking for it, which he has done with me—I do not think this is his writing, but it is very much like it; the "John" is.

CHARLES BADGER . I live at Stangate—I have known Wint twenty-two years—he is strictly honest and truthful.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know his writing? A. I saw it some years ago, but have not seen it for the last ten years—I do not think this is his writing; it is not like, what I saw to day, not at all—I cannot remember any other than what I saw to day—I cannot remember what I saw ten or twelve years ago—I have no recollection of his writing generally—what saw to day was a letter he had written to Mr. Reynolds, wishing him to come to the prison to see him.

RICHARD BLACKMAN . I live at 54, London-wall, and have known Wint nineteen years—he is as straightforward and honest a man as I ever met in my life in business.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know his writing? A. I have not seen it for three or four years—there is a similarity in this writing to his, but I cannot say that it is his.

THE JURY found that the defendant swore falsely, but not wilfully, which

THE COURT considered to be a verdict of


OLD COURT.—Thursday, October 30th; and Friday, October 31st, 1861



Before Lord Chief Baron Pollock

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1078
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence; Guilty > with recommendation

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1078. SAMUEL GARDNER (38), and ELIZABETH HUMBLER (19) were indicted for the wilful murder of Elizabeth Gardner. In two other counts the deceased was described as Elizabeth Reed Gardner, and Elizabeth Cook. The prisoners were also charged upon the Coroner's Inquisition with the like murder.

MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.

MR. POLAND, in his address to the Jury, virtually opened no case against the prisoner Humbler, and, upon proceeding to comment upon statements made by her affecting the prisoner Gardner, the LORD CHIEF BARON interposed, and stated that if there was no case against the female prisoner, her statements could not be received, merely because both were included in a Joint charge; such a course would, whilst complying with the forms of justice, violate the substance. After consulting the learned Recorder on the subject, his Lordship stated that if the counsel for the prosecution deemed it desirable that the evidence in question should be laid before the Jury, the only proper course would be to take on acquittal as to Humbler, and examine her as a witness. MR. POLAND stated that he would at once adopt that course.

THE JURY then, no evidence being offered as to the prisoner Humber, returned a verdict of NOT GUILTY as to her.

CATHERINE ELIZABETH CAMPLING . I am twelve years old—I live with my parents, at No, 5, Northumberland-alley—my father is a carman—I know the prisoner Gardner—he lived at No. 1, Northumberland-alley—I know his wife—I saw her last on Sunday evening, the 14th of September, about 7 o'clock, I believe—she was then at the step of her door—I said to her "Good evening, Mrs. Gardner," and she said, "Good evening, Kate"—I said it was a wet evening—the said, "Very"—she was in the same state of health as usual.

CORNELIUS MEAGHER (city-policeman, 579). I was on duty at Northumber-land-alley on Sunday night, 14th September—I know where the prisoner lived—I have known him for some eight months, or thereabouts—I have been in the habit of calling him of a morning—I always found the time he wished to be called, indicated by a chalk mark on the door—on this Sunday night I saw it—it was half-past 3—on the Monday morning I rang at the bell at a quarter past 3—the prisoner answered by tapping one of the windows of the room on the first-floor—I saw him, about from his waist up—there was no blind there that morning, not to the window he answered at—I cannot say whether the other window had the blind down—I remained on duty that morning till 6 o'clock—I saw the prisoner again between half-past 4 and 5 in Northumberland-alley, going out into Fenchurch-street—I saw him come out of the alley and turn up Fenchurch-street—he is a sweep—he carried his machine on his shoulder—I cannot say that saw I his soot bag; I did not take particular notice—I spoke to him when I saw him—I stopped, and said, "I called you before your time this morning, Mr. Gardner"—he said, "It makes no difference"—he passed on; he did not halt in his pace—in the course of my duty that night I passed this house; how often, would depend on what I found to detain me round the course of my beat—according to my scale of duty I should pass

every twenty minutes; sometimes I might pass oftener, sometimes not quite so often—nothing attracted my attention that morning—on Monday night, about 10 o'clock, I heard of the occurrence which had taken place—I saw the prisoner some time after 10 o'clock, between 10 and 11—I rapped at his door in consequence of seeing the figures remaining on, to know if he wanted to be called or not, and he came to the door—I said to him, "Mr. Gardner, I am sorry for this occurrence that has taken place"—he replied, "I am sorry too; I did not think she would be guilty of the like, as we were on good terms"—he asked me whether I saw a light in his bedroom after his leaving that morning—I said, "No"—he said he thought she might have taken up the candle that he left on the table, as she had some time previously received letters insulting to her character, which were laid on a chair beside her bed, together with a wedding ring, and a brooch with his likeness in it—he also remarked that whenever she took up a newspaper and saw an account of a suicide, that she always passed the remark that those persons who committed it could not be in their proper state of mind—the prisoner said, "I left the candle on the table"—he did not say where but he made a sort of an indication as to its being downstairs—it was standing downstairs at that time, but he did not say whether it was down-stairs—he did not say whether he left it alight or not—it would be quite dark at a quarter past 3.

Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON (with MR. ORRIDGE). Q. you have now stated about the ring and brooch, and about the candle; you never stated these things before the Magistrate? A. About the candle, I did—my last statement to the solicitor, I think, was, as near as I can recollect, in accordance with that I give now—that part of my evidenoe which was stated to the City solicitor, and which was not stated before the Magistrate, was with regard to the ring and the brooch; on hearing Gardner's evidence at the inquest, I heard him give the account of the ring and brooch, and the valentines, consequently I did not think it necessary to give it in mine—I heard his evidence read over—I heard that he stated that the ring, brooch, and letters were on a chair—I did not consider it necessary to say that before the Magistrate—I have never been told by the City solicitor to give it in evidence to-day—he did not ask me about it; I told him, and gave him the details of my evidenoe—I told him all—I remarked to the coroner, on my second examination at the inquest, that I could speak with regard to the ring and brooch, which was already read out—I cannot distinctly recollect the words I made use of; but I said something to the effect that Gardner spoke about the ring and brooch and valentines, which I had heard read over in his evidence—I did not at first state that it was 4 o'clock when I saw the prisoner; "about 4 o'clock," I think, was my answer on the first occasion—I now state that it was between half-past 4 and 5—1 stated it was about 4 at first, probably not giving it as much consideration as I have since; not taking into account that it was daylight; it was daylight when he was coming out of the house—when before the coroner it was my impression that it was about 4—I had seen him come out on many occasions before—I observed nothing whatever strange or unusual in his appearance—I was in the habit of calling him at various times from 3 to 6—I should think I have frequently called him at half-past 3, 4, and 5, and 6—I called him this morning a quarter of an hour too early, by making a mistake in the figures—I did not go into the room where the body was on the Monday.

GEORGE GOULBURN . I have been lamplighter of the district in which

Northumberland-alley is situated, for nine years—I have known Gardner since he has lived in Northumberland-alley—on 15th September I saw Gardner in Leadenhall-street about fifteen minutes before 5 o'clock—I was going in a direction towards Aldgate-pump, he was going towards Cornhill—he had a machine with him, and a bag on his shoulder—I spoke to him and said, "Good morning;" he returned the compliment, and we passed on—at 8 o'clock that same morning I was fetched by the policeman, and went with him to the prisoner's house—I saw the prisoner—I went to go in with the Policeman, and the prisoner said there was quite enough in already.

Cross-examined. Q. How do you happen to know that it was a quarter to 5? A. By our time for muster from Coleman-street—we started from there just at the turn of the half-hour, about half-past 4, and against we get into Fen-church-street, it takes us a quarter of an hour—I know it had just turned the half-hour when we started, because the church clock goes the quarters—we can't see the clock, but we can hear it—I heard half-past 4 go before we started—I know it was not half-past 3, by the break of day—it was break of day—our time was half-past 4, and we work according to the daylight

COURT. Q. You say you know it was not half-past 3, because it would not then have been break of day; is that what you mean? A. Yes

MR. RIBTON. Q. I suppose you have seen him on many other morning? A. Most every morning. pretty well much about the same time—as we went back in time, so I met Mr. Gardner further away from his own home—I should say he might have been 500 or 600 yards from his house on this morning—I had not seer him on any other morning at the same hour near the same place—I have met him in Northumberland-alley earlier than that—I have never, to my knowledge, seen him in Leadenhall-street at the same time—I had seen him in Leadenhall-street; not the week before.

MR. POLAND. Q. Was the time you mention the same morning that you heard of this occurrence, and went to the house? A. Yes—I was going to unlock my ladder to commence turning out the lamps.

GEORGE BLANBHARD . I am a constable in the West India Docks—I live in Harrow-lane, Poplar—the Dock Company have some warehouses in Fen-church-street, and other places in the city—I know Northumberland-alley well; some of our warehouses look on to the back of it—I have known the prisoner Gardner for some years; I can't say the exact time—I know his house in this alley—I remember Monday morning, 15th September, I was passing through the alley that morning about 6 o'clock or a little after; I is a thoroughfare—as I proceeded through, I heard a peculiar soreamin the prisoner's house, repeated once or twice—I noticed the bottom part of the house, it was shut—the scream apparently came from the first floor—I noticed the blinds, one blind was down and the other up—I passed on after hearing the scream; I thought, for the moment, it was children romping, in the morning, as I had seen children before—I knew there were children there—I heard of this occurrence that same evening, and I told the policeman what I had heard—I am quite sure it was between 6 and a quarter-past 6 that I heard this—I am quite sure it was not before 6.

Cross-examined. Q. It was a loud scream, was it? A. Not very—I cannot describe the scream exactly, it was a peculiar scream; I thought it was either an hysterical scream, or children laughing; I did not know which, for the moment—I returned again to hear it it was repeated, but I heard no more—I have used the term "hysterical scream;" that describes it—when I heard it I was only four or five yards from the house, quite opposite the house in the narrow alley—I could not say whether or not it was the

scream of a grown-up person—I thought at first it was children playing—I cannot form a judgment whether it was the scream of a single child or of a grown-up person—I should be able to tell the scream of a child two or three years old; I have children of my own—it was not the scream of a child of that age; an older child than that—I can say positively it was not the scream of a child of that age; whether it was the scream of a grown-up person I cannot say.

MR. POLAND. Q. How wide is this alley? A. I should say about three or four yards wide at this spot; no, not so wide, about three yards.

THOMAS RAFFIELD . I am a carpenter—I work for Mr. Turnbull, a builder—his workshops are at No. 8, Northumberland-Alley—I have known Gardner between four and five years—on 15th September I saw him at the top of Northumberland-alley in Fenchurch-street—I should think it was at three minutes to 7, between two and three minutes to 7, as near as I can tell—I was just in the act of turning round to go down the alley to go to work, I have to get in at 7, and I met him full in the face—I think he was going towards Aldgate; his face was in that direction—he was not in the alley; he was at the top of the alley, in the street—he had his sweeping apparatus with him—I heard of the death of Mrs. Gardner that same morning, about ten minutes or a quarter-past 8.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen him on any other morning in Aldgate? A. I have met him several times about the neighbourhood—I was waiting to go to my work on this morning—I was not out on the Saturday morning; I was at work—I went in at 6 o'clock on Saturday morning—I did not pass through Aldgate about 7 o'clock on the Saturday morning—I did not see the prisoner on the Saturday, nor on the Friday—I cannot recollect when I had seen him before about that place—I know it was the time I state, because I could not begin work till 7 o'clock, and I was waiting there for 7 o'clock to go in to work at Mr. Turnbull's, in Northumberland-alley—I did go in to work at 7 o'clock—I saw the prisoner just at the top of the alley—I can't say whether he was coming out of the alley or coming past the top—he said, "Good morning," and I said, "Good morning"—his face was in the direction of Aldgate—I did not take any more notice of him—I saw his face—I gave my evidence first before the coroner.

Q. When did you first mention to anybody that you had seen him on the Monday? A. We were talking about the case in our shop, and about his saying he had not been near the place, and so on, and I mentioned to our foreman that I met him at the top of the alley—I do not know whether is was on the Monday or Tuesday that we spoke about it, or Wednesday; it was before the Thursday—that is all I can say positively—I did not mention it at all to the police; our foreman mentioned it to them—6 was the proper time to go in to work, but I was too late for 6 that morning, and could not go in till 7—if you do not go in at 6 they do not let you in till 7—I do not think that there were any other men who were late that morning.

MR. POLAND. Q. Are you quite sure it was the same morning that you heard of this occurrence? A. Yes.

JOHN BRITTON MCQUIRE . I am a photographic artist at 4, Aldgate—I have known the prisoner for nearly two years—I have seen his wife, but should not have known her a second time—on Monday morning, 15th September, I saw the prisoner in front of Moses and Sons, about five minutes to 7; that is in Aldgate High-street, at it called now; it was Aldgate for-merly—I should say that is about a couple of minutes' walk or so from Northumberland-alley; it depends upon how fast a person walks—he had his

machine with him, and a sack over his shoulder—I bade him good morning, and he passed on—I saw him again in front of the King's Head, in Fen-church-street he was then sitting on a palisade—that was as near twenty minutes past 7 as I could say—I cannot say to a minutes' or two—he was in a sitting position, and the machine stood upright—I did not notice whether the public house was closed—it is about four minute's walk from Northumberland-alley; I can't say to two or three yards—I did not speak to him then—I crossed over the way about six or seven yards before I got to him then I left him he was in the position I have described—about 11 o'clock that same morning I heard of this occurrence—I have got good proof of its being that same morning.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen him on any other occasion? A. previous to that, oh yes, regularly, and always passed the time of the morning with him; in fact, he used to sweep our chimneys—it was not a common thing to see him at that time of the morning; I have seen him at all times of the day—I have not to my knowledge seen him before at that time is the morning; I can't say whether I have ever seen him about the same time; my memory cannot call things back as to a neighbour that I always used to be on the best of terms with—I did not see him the week before to my knowledge; nor on any of the mornings of the week before, to my knowledge—I will swear I did not—I am out every morning about that time—I was out on the Saturday—I generally take my walk that way every morning—I am my own master—I have a place of business at 4, Aldgate—I go out for a morning's walk, just for pleasure, to give me an appetite for breakfast—I had been in the habit of seeing him all times in the day, I have seen him in the morning; as well, from about a quarter to 7 in the morning till bed-time at night—I have not to my knowledge frequently seen him at about a quarter to 7 in the morning—I can't say that I have seen him at any particular time—I did not say I had been in the habit of seeing him from a quarter to 7—I said that was my time for going out—I have been in the habit of seeing him at all times, from about a quarter to 7 in the morning till evening, and I have had my glass of ale with him as well—I have been in the habit of seeing him at all times of the day, from a quarter to? till bed-time—I have seen him several times in the morning—I can't say exactly as to 7 o'clock, because I don't return home till about half-past 8—from a quarter to 7 up to my going indoors to business about half-past 8 or a quarter to 9, I have been in the habit of seeing him—I can't say every week, but frequently—I won't say two or three times a week, or even once a weak—I don't say I have seen him every week—1 have seen him some week and spoken to him, and always passed the time of the morning in the same way as I did on this morning—"Good morning, Mr. Gardner," those were my words—I describe myself as a photographic artist—that is correct—by trade I am an engineer, but I am now professing photography.

MR. POLAND. Q. Did you mention to any one that you had seen the prisoner this morning? A. I did—I am quite confident it was the same morning that I have spoken of.

HENRY LITTLE SEQUIERA . I am a surgeon, at No. 1, Jewry-street, Aldgate; that is about twenty minutes' walk from Northumberland-alley—I have known the prisoner for about six years—I knew his wife as well—I have attended her for over six years—I have seen Mrs. Humbler at the house, but did not know her by any name, only as the servant of Mrs. Gardner—on Monday morning, 15th September, Humbler came to my surgery a few minutes before 8 o'clock—she had with her a child of between two and three

years of age—she seemed in an agitated state, and said, "Oh, do come directly, Mrs. Gardner has cut her throat"—I immediately went with her to Northumberland-alley—I followed her upstairs to the room on the first-floor—there is only one room there—when I went into the room I saw the body of Mrs. Gardner lying straight on the ground, parallel with the bedstead—the windows of that room faced the door; on the right-hand side, immediately as you enter, there is a little space of about twelve inches, and in that small space Mrs. Gardner was lying; beyond that small space there is a recess in which stood a four-post bedstead; the bedstead goes backwards towards the wall, and the foot of the bed faces the window; the right-hand side of the bed is against the wall—the deceased's head was close against the door-post, the feet were lying perfectly straight and parallel with the legs of the bedstead—she had only a flannel vest on and a chemise—I placed my hand immediately on the body—I placed my hand first on the thigh, and found that it was quite cold—part of the body was warm, just the lower part of the trunk; the upper part, the shoulders, was quite cold.

Q. In your judgment, how long had life been extinct? A. I said I thought she had been dead four hours—I did not examine the throat at the time—I noticed the position of the hands; the left hand was on the chest, the fingers towards the throat, and the fingers were a little contracted—the right hand was also on the chest, and held a knife—the body lay perfectly straight—I did not notice the elbow at the time; I afterwards noticed that there was an impression, a sooty impression on the left elbow, and also on the left wrist, on the inside; it was plainly, as I mentioned to the Coroner, a digital impression, finger marks, sooty—the mark on the elbow was an irregular mark—the throat was cut, and there was a pool of blood under both sides of the throat—there was no blood below the upper part of the body, none below the collar-bone—there was a good deal of blood on the floor on each side of the throat, and it had run under the back; the wound on the throat was about two inches and a quarter in length, from the apple of the throat downwards to the shoulder on the left side; it was about an inch and a half in depth—I considered that it commenced from the front of the throat, and went downwards and inwards towards the spine—it was deepest externally near the shoulder—such a wound might have been inflicted by the knife I saw.

Q. In your judgment was it such a wound as the woman could have inflicted herself? A. She could not have done it with her right hand.

Q. You and Humbler went into the room; did the prisoner afterwards come in? A. He came in after we had been there about two minutes, or hardly that—I did not see anything of him as I came along—the first I saw of him that morning was when he came into the room—when he came in he said, "What is this?" in a hurried manner, and he immediately stooped down and took the knife out of the deceased's right hand—this is the knife (produced)—the prisoner did not touch the body at all before he took the knife out of her hand.

COURT. Q. Did he touch the body in taking the knife? A. No.

MR. POLAND. Q. Had he any difficulty in getting the knife from the hand? A. No difficulty at all—it left the hand as easily as it leaves mine—the back of the knife was against the palm of the deceased's hand, and it was in that position, so that the back of the knife was towards the throat (describing it)—it was lying in that position.

COURT. Q. Holding the knife in that way, you say she could not have inflicted the would herself? A. She could not

MR. POLAND. Q. Supposing the woman had died with the knife in her

hand, would the hand have been contracted? A. It would have been firmly grasped round the knife—the hand was clenched up to a certain point, but not so as to make it difficult to get the knife away—when the prisoner took the knife, I am not certain whether he passed it to me or put it on the table—he immediately looked across to the woman Humbler, and said, "You wretch, you have done this"—Humbler then fell down upon her knees, and called God to witness that she knew nothing about it—I did not notice the prisoner's taking the child—I said I would not have anything moved till a constable was fetched—the prisoner said nothing, but left to fetch a constable—he took the child with him—there were several chairs in the room, but one particularly attracted my attention at the foot of the bed—there was on that chair a wedding-ring, a brooch, with the likeness of Mr. Gardner, also some valentines, and some other letters unopened—there was a table in the room opposite the door—the things in the room were quite orderly.

Q. Did you see any marks of any kind upon Humbler, any marks of blood on her clothes? A. I saw her hands examined by the policeman in my presence, and I did not see anything upon her hands, except dirt—they did not appear to have been washed for some time—there was no blood on the bed clothes that were covering the bed—the sheet appeared to have been pulled or dragged down, and a portion of it was lying underneath the body of the deceased—after the prisoner left, Mrs. Spencer came in, and the policeman soon after—the policeman took charge of the things on the chair, the valentines, letters, the ring, and the likeness—I had previously examined the walls of the room; I did not examine them thoroughly—several marks were pointed out to me afterwards that were not there when I first examined—those marks were pointed out to me on the Friday morning; several of them I am quite sure were not the room previously—one of those marks was on the wall on the other side of the bedstead, the right-hand side; and there were some marks on the wall at the head of the bedstead—I afterwards examined the hands of the deceased; I found cuts across the fingers of the left hand, there were two on the middle finger, one had gone completely through the hone; those on the other fingers were slighter, they only grazed the external cuticle.

COURT. Q. Whereabouts were the cuts? A. Across in that direction (inside)—it appeared as if those wounds had arisen from the grasp of the knife; as if she had laid hold of there knife, the direction corresponding with that in the palm.

MR. POLAND. Q. Was there a cut on the palm as well? A. Yes—on the right hand; there were several cuts, but slight—those were irregular, over the hand; there were five cuts on the left hand, and six on the right—the insides of the hands appeared as if they had been wiped, because they were perfectly free from running blood, they were merely stained—the backs of the hands were very bloody—there was no blood underneath the hands—I minutely examined the body; on the thigh there was an impress of the palm of a hand, and the thumb; this was on the right thigh; it was a bloody impress—I could trace the mark of the thumb distinctly, it was pointing downwards; it was broader than my hand—the deceased was a thin, spare woman—I felt the body; it was not the mark of my hand—I saw it before I touched it, and the mark was broader than my hand—there was no blood on my hand that could have made it—it was on the inside of the thigh—the blood on the knife was dry—I did not go up into Humbler's bedroom that morning, the constable did—some days afterwards some

clothes were shown me; I examined them; I did not find any marks of blood about them.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you a physician? A. No; I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons of England, and a Licentiate of the Apothecaries' Company—I have been so since 1852—I say the body had been dead about four hours; it is impossible for any one to say—it may have been longer than that, but I should say it was quite as long—I think it could not have been shorter—I will not swear that it may not have been half an hour shorter, but I should think it was more likely to be rather more than four hours than under, very much more likely—I will say that it could not have been an hour under; it is quite impossible that it could have been three instead of four; that is my opinion—I swear it is impossible that it could have been three hours instead of four—I won't swear as to the impossibility of three hours and a half—I think it is impossible it could only have been three hours.

Q. Have you had much experience in examining dead bodies? A. I have about five thousand patients under me in the course of a twelvemonth—a great many of them unfortunately die.

COURT. Q. Have you had that experience which enables you to know what time it would take to produce coldness in the human frame after death? A. I have had very great experience, being connected with a public charity; I am medical officer to one of the poor law unions—I frequently have occasion to examine dead bodies—I am frequently not sent for till after death, and then they wish to say how long the patient has been dead

MR. RIBTON. Q. When has a case of that kind last happened? A. I cannot say; perhaps not more than a month ago—I do not mean a case of this kind, but a case in which a person died, and I was called upon to give my opinion how long the patient had been dead—I was called in and shown a dead body, and I was asked to give my opinion how long it had been dead, and I did so; I forget now the time I said—I forget the case but I know it was within a month ago—I say I cannot remember the case—they asked my opinion on it, which had been frequently done before—they did not themselves know how long the body had been dead—nothing that I am aware of occurred in that case to test the accuracy of my opinion—there have been many other cases where it has been tested afterwards—I cannot tell you any without referring to my books—I could if I had my books, but without them I cannot—there may have been six, eight, ten, or a dozen cases where my opinion has been proved to be accurate—cases have often occurred in which I have been called in and asked my opinion as to the time the body had been dead, and I have found what I have said was correct—I have found that from the circumstances that have transpired; perhaps one party may have been absent at the time, and when he has come home he has said, "I left so and so"—there was one case in particular, I remember; that was perhaps twelve months ago; a neighbour called on me to come and see so and so; I found the person was dead; I pronounced an opinion as to how long the person had been dead; my opinion was about three or four hours; I found the body almost cold—that was proved by circumstances to be correct, by the man, whose wife it was, being out, and they imagined he went out to work and left his wife dead in bed—when he came home of course I inquired of him, and he told me—it was in the morning that I was called in to see her—I cannot say exactly the time now, but I recollect those circumstances—the man told me he left his wife dead when

he went out in the morning—he did not tell me the time—he told me the time he went out in the morning, but I forget now what time it was—I neither recollect the time he told me, nor the time I was called in to see her—I recollect it was in the morning—my opinion was proved to be correct by the man's own statement—I cannot recollect any other instances.

Q. Can you tell me any scientific principle by reason of which you would be able to tell the length of time a body has been dead? A. I think it is impossible to say positively.

Q. You say you found what you are pleased to call sooty marks on the elbow and wrist; did you find those marks before the prisoner had arrived? A. I did not—I did not see the knife in the hand of the deceased before the prisoner came in—I am certain of that.

COURT. Q. How long was it before he came in? A. About two minutes—the body was so shaded by the bedstead that it was almost impossible to see.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Then you did not see it because it was shaded? A. it was shaded by the bedstead.

Q. Then I suppose the first you saw of the knife was as it left the hand of the woman? A. No, I saw it before it left her hand, because I saw the prisoner stoop down, and I bent in that direction to see what he was about, and I saw him distinctly take the knife out of her hand—I saw the knife in her hand before he touched it—the hand was closed—the handle was not grasped firmly in her hand, because if it had been grasped firmly, in taking the knife he would have carried the hand with it; he could not have taken it out so easily—I have not described it as having the knife clutched in her hand—I said "clenched "—I never used the expression clutched—I did not say so before the Coroner—I swear I did not say it was "clutched"—if it is put down so, it is a misunderstanding; I said "clenched"—(The witness's deposition being referred to, the expression "clutched" appeared to be used in one instance, and "clenched" in another)—I did not use the word clutched; I swear that—the woman Humbler was on the other side of me at the time the prisoner took the knife out of the deceased's hand—he was standing jnst at the doorway—I was standing next to the woman, and then Humbler.

Q. I suppose I may take it as a fact, although you say you saw the knife in her hand before he touched it, that you had but a momentary glance at it? A. Only a momentary view—he stooped down and immediately put his hand upon it—it was merely while he was in the act of passing his hand downwards that I saw it before he touched it—immediately on taking the knife out of the hand he looked across to the woman Humbler, and said, "You wretch, you have done this"—when she made the exclamations, calling God to witness that she knew nothing about it, the prisoner said, "Well, we will see about it"—I do not recollect his using the words, "She has never done it herself"—he may have done so—that may have been in my recollection before the Coroner, but it is not now—my memory will not serve me whether he did say it—I cannot recollect now—I may have stated it before the Coroner; if I did, I have no doubt that he did say so—the wound on the throat could not have been inflicted with the right hand—it is not impossible that it may have been inflicted with the left, but it is very improbable—I say it is impossible that it could have been inflicted with the right—I swear that—the first incision appeared to have been made just at the apple of the throat; I cannot say positively—I cannot say whether it was at that extremity of the wound or the other—I can only form an opinion upon that—I formed an opinion that it was

commenced at the apple of the throat, and passed down towards the shoulder, but I cannot say it may not have been commenced at the other extremity—the wound was deepest at the further extremity—I say it is impossible that the wound could have been inflicted with the right hand, whether it had been begun on the one side or the other.

COURT. Q. Why do you say it is impossible? A. Because she could not have done it under any circumstances, not in any position, whether the knife was turned one way or the other—in my judgment, the wound could not have been inflicted with her right hand.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Dismiss for the present the position in which the knife was in her hand; do you mean to say that, under any circumstances, a person having a knife in her hand in the proper way, could not have out from the shoulder to the apple of the throat with the right hand? A. I consider it impossible—I am sure she could not have got the hand sufficiently over, in order to carry the knife inwards as it was, and cut through the bone, and the cartilage of the larynx—the extreme end of the wound was about two inches from the apple of the throat—it commenced over the apple of the throat (pointing it out), and went two inches backwards, downwards towards the left side.

Q. Do you mean to tell me that the right hand of a person would not reach to that extremity of the wound? A. But the direction of the wound was downwards, backwards and inwards towards the spinal column.

COURT. Q. In your opinion nobody could get the right hand so far as to commit a wound of that description? A. That is my opinion.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Supposing the edge of the knife was in the ordinary way in the hand of a person, do you mean to swear that the right hand could not have been got back far enough to reach the other extremity of the wound? A. In the condition she was it was impossible, because her hand would be prevented by the rail of the bedstead, and had she turned over, she would have been impeded by the ground—even supposing she was not lying under the bedstead, and that her arm was not interfered with by any obstacle, I still consider that she could not have reached to the extent the wound went, with her right hand.

Q. Although you with your hand easily reach it now? A. With a knife I could not—I have not had much experience in examining wounds on the throat—this was the first I have examined myself—that was the reason I called in an older practitioner, in order to confirm my opinion—it is not impossible that the wound might have been inflicted with the left hand—I have heard of persons who are called ambi-dexterous, who can use the left hand equally with the right—the cause of death was suffocation—the carotid artery was not divided—when the carotid artery is divided, death is instantaneous—it is not so in cases of suffocation—there would be some convulsive strugging—the time of that struggling would depend upon circumstances—if she was exhausted and fainted, blood would go on trickling into the larynx, and would suffocate the moment the came to, without any struggling; but there might be convulsive struggling accompanying the suffocation)—she might have been able to scream.

Q. Supposing the wound had been inflicted with the left hand, do you think it possible that, in the agony of suffocation, or in the convulsive motions accompanying suffocation, she might have grouped the blade of the knife in her left hand, and then, that it might have passed on to the right? A. It would have been impossible to out through the bone of the finger.

Q. I did not ask that; answer one question first; do you think it

would be impossible, supposing she inflicted the wound with her left hand in the convulsive struggles accompanying the suffocation, she could have grasped or clutched the blade in the left hand, and then passed it to the right? A. Quite impossible—because no one could possibly clutch or clench the fist sufficiently to cut through the bone.

Q. Will you get rid of the bone for the present? suppose the bone was not cut; I repeat the question; is it impossible that a person in the agony of suffocation, in the convulsive struggles accompanying suffocation, might have clutched the blade of the knife in the left hand, and then seized it, and pulled it out by the right? A. No, it is not impossible—I think it impossible that that would have divided the finger in the way it was cut, because it is a thing almost without parallel for a person to commit an act of that sort lying down on the floor, in the condition she was.

Q. You have said it was not impossible for her to have clutched the blade in the left hand, and then passed it to the right, in the agonies of suffocation; do you assert that it is impossible that the bone of the finger could have been cut in the way you found it? A. It is not impossible, but most improbable—blood was on the sheet—I am certain it was on the sheek that was pulled down by the side of the bed, and lying underneath her, because I pulled it out myself—the table was almost close to the foot of the bed—the letters were not on the table, they were on the chair—thering was on the chair at the foot of the bed—the ring, letters, and brooch, were all on the chair—the feet of the body came a little beyond the bedstead—there was about three-quarters of a yard between the door and the feet of the body.

JOHN COMLEY . I am a surgeon, and live at 71, High street, Whitechapel—I have been in practice about thirty-two years—on Tuesday evening, 16th September, I accompanied Mr. Sequiera to Northumberland-alley—I was present when he made a post-mortem examination of the body of Mrs. Gardner—I have heard his description of the wound—I concur in that description—I heard his account of the cuts on the hands—that is quite correct—I noticed a mark on the right thigh—it was the mark of a left hand, made with the fingers and thumb—it was made with blood—I noticed the palms of the hands, they were just stained with blood, as if it had been wiped off—Mr. Sequiera told me that the woman was pregnant—I did not know it.

HENRY LITTLE SEQUIERA (re-examined). I made the post-mortem examination—the deceased was in the family way—she had engaged me to attened her in her confinement—she was in the seventh month of pregnancy.

JOHN COMLEY (continued). From the condition in which I found the body, I am decidedly of opinion that the wound was not self-inflicted.

Cross-examined. Q. What is your reason for saying it was not selfinflicted? A. The nature of the wound was deep backwards, and turned inwards, going to divide the thyroid artery, muscle, and cartilage, into the larynx, which could not have been done by a person's own hand.

Q. Why not? A. Because I think it could not, neither by the right hand or the left—I do not think the left hand could have done it—it is possible the left hand might, but the right hand, I am sure, could not—the left hand might have done it, but it was a sort of edging wound, not a regular clear cut—the right hand could not have done it, from this circumstance, it went digging downwards and inwards—it was an incised wound—it came down, and went backwards, and then inwards—I say, the left hand might have done it, because it could have turned in so easily, whereas the right could

not—she could not have got the right hand round to as to make the would—that is my opinion—I think it is most improbable; hardly anything it impossible at the present day—the palms of the hands were stained with blood, as if they had been wiped—I say "as if they had been wiped" from the smeared appearance—there was just a sort of half red appearance about them—the palm of the hand, with fresh blood on it, grasping the handle of the knife, would not have caused that smeared appearance, because then the hand would have been full of blood, and it was perfectly discoloured—I should say the blood would have flowed into the hand—supposing the hand was slightly stained with fresh blood, and then grasped the handle of the knife, that certainly might have caused a smeared appearance.

COURT. Q. Is it part of a medical man's duty to be acquainted with the period of death, upon examining the body a very short time after? A. No, it is not—it depends upon the rigid state of the body.

Q. Is it any part of a medical man's scientific, or medical, or physiological learning, if a body is shown to him with a certain degree of warmth in it, to form an opinion how long that body has been dead? A. Yes, it is—I think, from the nature of the case, as described, and the woman being with child, which would keep up partial heat, that the body would not have got cold so quickly as it would otherwise.

Q. The woman was found at 8 o'clock with her feet and shoulders cold, and the lower part of the trunk warm; can you form any opinion from that, according to your experience, how long she had been dead? A. I should say about four or five hours—I have been called in to a number of deaths at the police-station—it is sometimes of importance to ascertain from the state of a body how long the person has been dead—it is a matter of ordinary surgical and medical skill to be acquainted with that, and to form an opinion upon it.

MR. RIBTON to MR. SEQUIERA. Q. Did you see with which hand the prisoner took the knife out of the deceased's hand? A. With his right hand he took it out of her right hand.

Q. Will you swear positively that he did not lay hold of the hand of the deceased with his right hand, and with the left take the knife out? A. I will swear positively that he did not touch the body, but merely took the knife out of the hand of the deceased without touching it—he did not lay hold of the body with his right hand, neither the one or the other—he did not hold her hand with one of his, and take out the knife with the other.

ELIZABETH HUMBLER (the prisoner). I am the wife of John Humbler, a painter—I was nineteen years old last birthday—my name was formerly Clark—I have known the prisoner since I was eleven years of age—I did not live with him exactly as a servant—at first I was taking his work, and Mr. Gardner kept me there and gave me 1s., a week for nine months—I lived with him in the house—the deceased was living with him as his wife at that time—I did not ask whether they were married—he had one child, a girl, nine or ten years of age, named Betsy—she was in the country at this time—the father had sent her into the country on the Monday as he came from the country on the Sunday evening—I don't know the date exactly, it was three or four weeks before this occurrence—she was not in the house when this happened, she was in the country—after I went to live with the prisoner when I was eleven years old, I left there to better myself to go to another situation at 1s., 6d., a week—I went back to Mr. Gardner's house when I was between fifteen and sixteen years of age—when I went back on that occasion an intimacy took place between me and the prisoner, an

improper connexion—I remained at his house nearly a twelvemonth, till I was nearly seventeen—my mother caused me to leave—she came and broke the door open and took my box away, and Mr. Gardner told me to go home but not to remain long—I went home and after a few weeks I went to live in a furnished room with Mr. Gardner—I have only been married a twelve-month—it is three years ago that Mr. Gardner took the room for me—when I left my husband I went and took an empty room—I went to live in Northumberland-alley, about three months and a week before this happened—Mr. Gardner agreed to my going there to live, and Mrs. Gardner too—went and asked Mrs. Gardner on a Sunday morning—I acted as servant there; I did whatever there was to do—I slept in the top room in the house—while I was there the prisoner and Mrs. Gardner did not live on particularly good terms—when I went back to live there I renewed my intimacy with Gardner.

Q. On the morning that this affair happened were you going to leave? A. I did not know—Mr. Gardner did not tell me I had to leave, till he accused me of the murder—he then said, "I intended you to leave to-day"—I said, "Did Mrs. Gardner know that?" and he said, "That is my business."

Q. On the Sunday night before this happened, did you have any quarrel with the prisoner? A. There was a letter lying down by the door, I picked it up and said, "Mr. Gardner, here is a letter"—he took it out of my hand, he did not read it—he took it upstairs; Mrs. Gardner was there—the letter was pushed under the door—I saw the envelope—I never saw the inside Mr. Gardner said, "You put it there"—I said, "I did not "—Mr. Gardner began talking and I began to cry—Mrs. Gardner said, "Oh, don't you cry," and he told me would break my jaw if I did not hold my tongue; so with that I left the room and went upstairs into my own room—he kept going on so at me that I began to cry and went up to my own room—that was at 7 o'clock—I bade Mrs. Gardner good night—she said, "Good night, Betsy," and I said "Good night" to him, and he said, "Good night—I got up about half-past 7 on the Monday morning—the first I heard was Mr. Spencer's saw-mills, that was what woke me up—when I left my room in the morning I went straight down to the bottom room—that was about twenty-five minutes or half-past 7—I never left my room during the night—when I went down stairs I went into the room on the ground floor—I can't be positive whether the shutters were shut—I looked up at the clock and saw that it was half-past 7—I went to the cupboard and took some wood out and placed it in the fire—I looked on the mantel-piece for some lucifers, and I only saw one on the mantel-piece—I set light to the paper with that, but it did not seen to catch, and I was afraid it would go out—I knew that the remainder of the lucifers were upstairs, because Mr. Gardner took the lucifers upstairs every night, and a candle too—he used to have lucifers there every night because of getting up early in the morning—I went upstairs and opened the door, and the round table was before the door—I took the lucifers off the table, and in turning round I saw Mrs. Gardner lying on the floor—I dropped the lucifers and saw the child at its mother's feet—I took hold of the child and rushed immediately for Mr. Sequiera, the doctor—I had taken hold of the lucifers before I saw Mrs. Gardner on the floor—the hinges of the door are on the left hand side going in—the moment I opened the door there was the body on the right hand—I dropped the lucifers on the floor and took hold of the child; it had a little frock on that it slept in—the child was not quiet—I had heard the child cry before I came downstairs, while I was

dressing—I went for Mr. Sequiera, and took the child with me—it is two years and nine months old—I fetched Mr. Sequiera, and he came back with me

Q. After you had been in the room some time, did the prisoner come in? A. No; Mr. Gardner was in the cellar when I returned with the doctor—I had never seen him that morning till just before 8 o'clock—I knew he was in the cellar because I was asking the doctor whether he wanted a candle, and I heard Mr. Gardner cough in the cellar—I did not see him in the cellar, but as I was going upstairs with Mr. Sequiera, Mr. Gardner came up out of the cellar, and I said, "Good God, Sam, come upstairs"—I called him Sam—he did come upstairs—he got to the top of the stairs but one, and he said, "Oh, you wretch, you have done that"—I saw him when he came into the room, and he said, "You don't move from here until I give you in charge"—I saw the things on the chair—Mr. Sequiera said, "Don't move anything until the sergeant comes"—when the prisoner spoke to me I fell on my knees and said, "Good God, show mercy down on my innocence"—Mr. Gardner went out to fetch a policeman, and brought Mrs. Spencer—Mrs. Spencer came afterwards—Mrs. Gardner was in good health on the Sunday—she read the newspaper to me while Mr. Gardner was gone out to take a walk—after the police came they searched my room—they searched everything that I had—my clothes were examined—after the police came they asked Mr. Gardner where I should go—he said, "She sha'n't remain here"—I said, "I am willing to go wherever he likes to send me," and I went up to Mrs. Spencer's, in the back alley, and remained there until she fetched my mother from Gravesend—Mrs. Spencer's is in Northumberland-alley, but it is called Little Back-alley; it is in the same alley—I remained there till 7 or 8 o'clock at night—I then went to my cousin's, in the Borough, 30, Mint-street—that was on Monday night—I afterwards went to Gravesend—I remained in the Borough until the first inquest was held; that was on the Wednesday—I went to Gravesend on the Wednesday morning.

COURT. Q. Did you ever go back to the place where this had happened? A. Yes; on Monday morning I went to Mr. Gardner's house—I do not mean the Monday after the first inquest—I never went back to Northumberland-alley after I left it on the Monday night.

MR. POLAND, Q. Had you been back at all during that day? A. Yes; on the Monday—I went round with Mrs. Spencer on Monday morning, and asked Mr. Gardner to give me the money for Mrs. Spencer to go to Gravesend to fetch my mother—I asked him whether he would give me 3s.,—he said, "Yes; anything in reason," and he gave me 3s.,—from that time I did not go into the house again until I went to Gravesend—I went to Gravesend on the Wednesday evening, and remained there until the next inquest was held, the next week—I believe it was on the 24th September, the Wednesday following—two policeman came to my house at Gravesend on the Saturday evening—I was not examined on Wednesday, the 24th—I was examined on the Monday—I went before the coroner when I came back from Gravesend—that was on the Wednesday—when I came down in the morning the street door was shut—it has a latch—it is a large lock—it was not locked, it is never locked—no one could get in without knocking at the door—I left the door open when I went for the doctor—I gave to Mobbs, one of the constables, some of my clothing at Gravesend to be examined—I know what clothes the prisoner had—I know he had two suits—he went to the races but Epsom Races, and I went with him—he went in a dark brown suit—I do not know what other clothes he had—I was not in the house then.

Cross-examined. Q. How long did you live with your husband? A. Six weeks—I don't know exactly the name of the place—I think it was near Moorfields Chapel—it was No. 5, Queen's-square—I did not, after being six weeks with my husband, ask permission to go back to the prisoner's house—I took a room—it was about eight months after I left my husband that I received Mr. and Mrs. Gardner's consent to go back and live with them, or between eight and nine months—I cannot say exactly how long it was—it was in the bottom room, the room we lived in, that I asked Mr. Sequiera if he wanted a candle—I said, "Do you want a light, Mr. Sequiera?"—he said, "Yes; we had better have one"—it was quite daylight at 8 o'clock—I don't think it had struck 8—I asked if he wanted a candle—the prisoner did not answer from the cellar; I heard him cough; that was at the time I asked Mr. Sequiera whether he wanted a light—the candlestick stood on the drawers—I then heard the prisoner cough—he was making his way towards the stairs then—Mr. Sequiera and I went upstairs together—Mr. Sequiers had just-got into the room as Mr. Gardner came up the stairs—I used not always to go to bed first—I used to close up outside; but Mr. Gardner telling me on Sunday night that he would break my jaw, I thought I would go to bed as I was so used—my usual time was sometimes 9, sometimes 10, and sometimes half-past 9—on this Sunday night I went to bed much earlier than usual—I went into my room about 7—I went to bed about 8—I went up into my room about 7, when I bade Mrs. Gardner "Good night"—I went up into my own room, and went to my box to take out some linen—I cannot say exactly whether I was an hour or half an hour in my room before I went to bed—I was up when the clock struck 8, undressing—if I went up at 7, I must have remained up an hour—I went to bed in consequence of Mr. Gardner's ill temper—I cannot say exactly what took my attention for the hour—I was sitting up in my own room, thinking of the sufferings that Mr. Gardner had caused me—I might have been thinking of them for an hour—that was all I was doing—I took some linen out of my box to put on—that is the usual thing, of course, the night-dress—it was not a night-dress, it was a chemise—my usual time for getting up was 7 or half-past 7—I did not get up earlier that morning than any other—I did not get up till half-past 7, I had nothing to get up for—I did not wake earlier than usual—I got up and dressed myself—I never put on any shoes—I generally left my old shoes downstairs under the arm chair—I put on my stockings, a pair of brown stockings—I did not put on my shoes the moment I got downstairs—I lighted the fire—I did not put on my shoes before I went upstairs to Mr. Gardner's room—I did not put my boots on till I was going down the alley for Mr. Sequiera—I came downstairs with my stockings on—my boots were downstairs—I pulled them off on Sunday evening, and left them there—when I went up to Mr. Gardner's room I had my stockings on—I found one match on the corner of the mantel-piece downstairs; one single match—I don't know how that came there—sometimes Mr. Gardner would leave a few on the mantel-piece—there was only one left—that was on that corner of the mantel-piece—when I went upstairs and opened the door I trod in something—it was blood, but I did not know what it was till I went for the doctor—I trod on it as I was passing through the door with my stockings—I wore the stockings—they were asked for at the inquest, and I gave them up—I do not know whether they were stained with blood—I did not notice them when I gave them to the policeman—when I was passing through the door I trod on something that was wet and cold; I did not know what it was till I returned from the

doctor's, and then I saw it was blood—I saw the blood on the stockings—they were damp from the blood—I do not know whether they were stained—I gave them to Sergeant Mobbs—I did not examine them when I gave then to the sergeant—I wore them three days before the sergeant had them—I trod on the blood in passing through the door to go for Mr. Sequiera—I knew it that morning—I did not examine my stockings then to see if there was blood upon them—I mentioned at the Coroner's inquest that I had trod in blood—I did not say anything about it on the Monday or Tuesday, not to anybody—it was on the Wednesday that I gave up the stockings to the sergeant—I did not say anything about my having trod in blood until I was asked at the inquest—when the sergeant asked me for my stockings he was going to take me to Mr. Gardner's house, to go and get a pair of white stockings to put on—there were a great many persons outside, and I went to Mrs. Spencer's and took them off and gave them to him, and he gave me a pair of white stockings—I did not examine them when I gave them to the sergeant—I gave them to him the moment he asked for them.

Q. Did you, after you had trod in the blood, ever see blood on your stockings? A. I never noticed my stockings; I never looked—I put on my old shoes—I know that I trod in something wet and cold—and when I returned with Mr. Sequiers, I thought it was blood I had trod in, by the blood being at the door—I never looked at my stockings to see if there was blood on them—I gave them to Sergeant Mobbs.

COURT. Q. What was the colour of your stockings? A. Dark brown.

MR. RIBTON. Q. I suppose you did not give up your stockings, or any of your clothes, till they were asked for? A. No—all my clothes were left in Mr. Gardner's house—I continued to wear the same stockings, dress, and all, on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday—I do not know whether it was a pool of blood that I trod in—I did not stop to examine the blood—I do not know that I slipped in it—I trod in something wet and cold as I was passing through the door—I felt it cold and wet through the stockings—I heard the child cry before I came downstairs; while I was dressing—I stated that at the Coroner's inquest—I can't remember whether or not I stated, in my evidence before the Coroner, that I heard Mr. Gardner cough in the cellar—the letters that have been alluded to are valentines—I was shown them at the Coroner's inquest—I can neither read or write—I can't tell whether they were addressed to Mrs. Gardner—I heard part of them read by Mr. Gardner, on the Sunday, as he went into the country on the Monday; when he was turning out Mrs. Gardner's drawers—that was three or four weeks before this transaction—they had not been received three or four weeks before—Mrs. Gardner read some of them, and Mr. Gardner too, on the Monday—I was with them when they were turning out the drawers—Mrs. Gardner said the letters had come some two years, and some twelve months, ago—it was two or three weeks before that Mr. Gardner read some of them, sitting by the further window—I was there, and Mrs. Gardner too—on the Sunday night, before this Monday, I found the letter by the door—that was the Sunday evening before Mrs. Gardner's death—I do not know whether that was a letter of the same kind that had been read three or four weeks before—Mr. Gardner never let me or Mrs. Gardner see that letter—He would not read it to Mrs. Gardner or me either.

Q. Were you ever sharpening a knife? A. When Mr. and Mrs. Gardner and me have been sitting at the table, at dinner, Mrs. Gardner has said, "Betsey, sharpen this knife for Mr. Gardner;" and I have been going to the door to do it; and he has said, "Just march downstairs, and sharpen it on the sink; I know that you want to let everybody know that you are here"

—it was not Sergeant Mobbs that took me at Gravesend—the policeman who came to Gravesend for me asked me whether I had ever taken a knife upstairs with me—he did not tell me then that Mr. Gardner had said so; he only asked me, "Did you ever take a knife up in your bedroom, or did Mr. Gardner ever take one from your bedroom?" and I said, "No"—I said he might have seen me sharpen a knife on the door-step, but it has been when he has been sitting at the table to have his dinner—he never asked me what I was doing it for—I said that to the constable.

Q. Do you mean to say that you did not fully understand, from what had been said to you, that you were to leave on the Monday? A. Mr. Gardner never hinted such a thing to me—he never told me that I was to leave on the Monday—he did not tell me until he accused me of the murder, and then he said, "You knew you had to leave to-day"—he said that in the room upstairs, in the presence of Mr. Sequiera—I said, "I did not know? had to leave to-day;" and I did not—he said, "I intended you to leave to-day"—I will swear that I said, "I did not know I was to leave"—I said, in my examination before the Coroner, that the prisoner said to me, "You knew you were to leave," and that I told him I did not know.

MR. POLAND. Q. You say you were sharpening a knife on the door-step; how long ago was that? A. I don't know what day it was exactly; it was several days, when we have been sitting at dinner; whenever Mrs. Gardner asked me to do it—Mr. Gardner never allowed me to go outside to sharpen it, because of the neighbours seeing me—I sharpened several knives—I never saw that knife that is there—I never sharpened that knife in my life; it was a black-handled knife—this was not one of the knives in ordinary use—I never saw that knife in use until Sunday, at dinner-time—I do not know where it came from—yes; Mrs. Gardner said, on Sunday morning that a basin, and two plates, and a knife and fork, had been brought in by little Tinkey Lewis, that had been left on the ledge by some of the men at work—I can swear that Mr. Gardner never took a knife out of my bedroom in his life—I had worn the stockings three days when I gave them up to the constable—I believe they were afterwards returned to me—I have got on the same stockings now—they were given up to my mother—I had them until I gave them up—I had never had any others on from the Monday until they were taken away on the Wednesday.

MR. RIBTON. Q. Have you not frequently, as late as 11 o'clock at night, sharpened a knife, and gone up into your bedroom with a knife; and has not Gardner gone up and taken the knife away from your bedroom? A. I will swear before God I never took a knife in my bedroom, and never sharpened a knife at 11 o'clock at night; and Mr. Gardner never hinted such a thing about a knife to me—I never had a knife in my bedroom.

Q. A short time after your marriage, did you not tell Gardner that if he was not sociable with you, you would stick him with a knife? A. No; I never said such a thing—I never threatened anything of the kind; it had been more him threatened it to me.

MARY SPENCER . I am the wife of John Spencer, a labourer, and live at 3, Northumberland Back-alley—on Monday morning, 15th September, I saw Gardner—in consequence of what he said to me, I went back with him to his house—I went upstairs into the room, and saw Mrs. Gardner lying dead at my feet—when he came to me in the morning he had a child with him—he said to me, "Give this child to Ellen, and come round"—I said, "Oh, Mr. Gardner, what is the matter?" several times on my road—he did not answer me—he said, "Come in; come upstairs"—I have a daughter named Ellen—I gave the child to her, and left her in my house

with it—I went upstairs—the prisoner had gone up before me—when I got into the room I saw the body of Mrs. Gardner on the floor—Humbler was in the room—the said to me, "Oh, Mrs. Spencer, Mrs. Gardner has cut her throat, and Mr. Gardner says I have done it"—Mr. Gardner said, "Fetch me a policeman"—I then left the house, and fetched one—I went back again—Humbler was there then—Mr. Gardner would not allow her to leave the room—she was walking about the room, crying, when I got back—the prisoner was still there—Humbler kept crying—I can't remember word for word what she said; but she said she knew Mr. Gardner to be a bad man, but she did not think him capable of accusing her of such a thing as that—Humbler went to my house that day—I can scarcely remember the time; as soon as the confusion was over, and the sergeant had searched her, and her clothes, and that sort of thing—Mr. Gardner said he would not have her there, and Sergeant Mobbs asked me if I would take her till the next day—I said, Yes, I would allow her to remain at my place till the next day—I went back with Humbler, to Gardner's house, that day—she said to him, "Sam, I want some money"—Gardner said, "How much do you want?"—she said, "Three shillings"—he said, "Is that enough for you?"—she said, "Yes"—he put his hand in his right-hand trousers' pocket, and gave her the three shillings—she said she wanted it to pay my expenses to Gravesend, to let her friends know, became they did not know where to find her.

Cross-examined. Q. You say he did not tell you what it was? A. No—I did not say to him, "If it is anything in particular, I shall go into hysterics"—I said, before the inquest sat, "I reallt do not know that I shall be able to stand the inquest, for I shall go off into hysterics, and no one will be able to hold me"—I had a very violent fit of hysterics on the first of the inquest—I am subject to hysterics—I was never intimate with the Gardners—I worked for them, that was all—I have known them for six or eight years, or it might be more—I mangled for them, and washed Mr. Gardner's shirts—I am subject to hysterics if anything particular overcomes my feelings—I never had hysterics in the prisoner's presence—it is very well known amongst my neighbours—he lives very near—I never said anything to him about hysterics, on this morning, before I went with him to the house.

WILLIAM MOBBS (City Police-sergeant, 25). On Monday morning, 15th September, I was on duty in Fenchurch-street—I received some information from a constable of the name of Temple—from what he said to me, I at once proceeded to No. 1, Northumberland-alley—I went up-stairs, to the first-floor, and there found the surgeon, Mr. Sequiera, Pallet, the ward beadle, Gardner, and Humbler—I saw Mrs. Gardner on the floor—Dr. Sequiera handed this knife to me, saying that the prisoner had taken it from the right hand of the deceased—the prisoner turned round to Humbler, and said, "You wretch; you are the cause of this; you done it"—I told the prisoner to be careful what he was saying; that he was charging the girl with a very serious offence—I asked him his reasons for suspecting the girl—he said because he had been in the habit of having intercourse with the girl, and she knew she had got to leave the house on that day—I asked Humbler to go upstairs and show me her clothes that she had there—she accompanied me and Pallet—we inspected the whole of her clothes—she then lifted up her clothes that she had on, one by one—I saw no marks of blood them—her hands and face were begrimed with dirt, apparently as if they had not been washed for a long time—this was in bar bedroom—I

examined the whole of the clothes in the room; bedding and everything—there were no appearances of blood whatever—on a chair in the bedroom, on the first-floor, I saw a night-gown, chemise, and drawers, these two valentines, and this wedding-ring, and brooch (produced)—this is a likeness of the prisoner—I saw the room and examined it minutely—it was the first floor room; the bedroom; where the body was—I found no marks of blood on the wall; none whatever, with the exception of just where the head of the deceased lay, about a foot up, there was a little splash—I saw no marks on the table in the centre of the room—there was a thick woollen cloth on it—we took it off and examined the table—there was a cornice which formed part of the bed—I brought it to the window, and examined it in the presence of the beadle and another officer—there was no blood on it what ever—that was the cornice leaning against the wall—a piece of it was broken from the top—it was one of those old-fashioned four-post bedsteads—this was a piece of the cornice that had not been put up, or if it was put up, it had been broken off—the window, opposite the foot of the bed, was without a blind—the other blind was drawn down—there were no marks of blood on the bed—I looked at the fire, on the ground-floor—it was alight, but the bars were cold; it had not been alight a sufficient time to warn the bars; I could hold them in my hand—I felt them with my hand—the sticks were remaining in the fire, and a portion of the paper it had been lighted with—it was burning but very slow; it was not out, but it was not properly alight—I examined the room on the ground-floor minutely—there were no marks of blood there—there was a short curtain to the bottom part—the window shuts with shutters outside—there were no marks of blood on the curtain, nor on the shutters, nor any part of the room—I searched in the cellar, the sink, and the closet, that morning; and six or seven days afterwards, I pulled them up—I found no traces of any blood, nor yet any wet cloth in the house that would be sufficient for any person to wipe their hands on; not so much as a damp cloth—I looked at the prisoner's clothes as he wore them, and his flesh—I did not see any appearances of blood on him—he had evidently been at work, and was in his sweep's dress; in fact, it was sooty—I afterwards searched his clothes in the house, but not that day—on the Thursday everything was minutely searched—I found one black and of his, a brown suit, a corduroy suit, and two canvas jackets, which had been used for sweeping chimneys—there were no marks on those—the inquest was on Wednesday, the 17th—I know that Dr. Sequiera was examined there—I went on the Thursday to the prisoner's house with a constable of the name of Monger, and minutely searched the place again—the prisoner was there—after we had been upstairs and made the whole of the search and came downstairs again, he said he was sure that his poor wife had been murdered—I asked him what made him think that—he said because the girl Humbler knew she had to leave on that day; and, not only that, he had heard her more than once threatening her own life, and his too—he said that on one occasion he went up to her bedroom before she was up in the morning and saw a knife sticking in the ledge of her door, that he asked her what that meant, and she said she did not intend that he should have found her alive; and at other times he had seen her sharpening knives on the step of the door, and on the sink-stone in the cellar, and when he asked her what she was doing it for, she sometimes said for herself, and at other times for him—the prisoner said his poor wife's hands were cut about so, because he had seen them after she had been washed and put into the coffin—he said that at the same time that he said he thought she had been murdered—on the following day,

Friday, I and Monger went again to the prisoner's house—I do not thin Pallet was with us then—when we went I saw the prisoner on the ground-floor—he then said he had seen several spots of blood on the wall upstairs—I went upstairs, and found several spots of blood on the wall at the head of the bed—they were small spots, sprinkles, as if it had been thrown against the wall, and also at the aide of the bed several other spots, and on the wall near the feet, a large splash, and across the rail at the foot of the bedstead—this (produced) is paper off the wall—I am positive that this was not on the wall when I searched it previously, nor were the spots on the wall by the side of the head, and on the head—on the rail along the foot of the bedstead there were the appearances of a wet bloody cloth having been drawn across it—it was dry on the rail, on a piece of cornice standing at the head of the bed there was a large splash of clotted blood, not quite dry—the greatest portion of it was wet—that was the cornice I have spoken of as having examined before—it was not there then—when I discovered it, I turned to Gardner and said, "There were none of these, neither on the wall, bedstead, or board, when we searched the premises before"—he then said, "Perhaps it might be done in washing the body"—the body was washed, I believe, some time on the Wednesday—I do not know when it was put in the coffin—it was out when I was there on the Wednesday—we then went downstairs on the ground-floor—Gardner pointed to the short curtain on the window—I then saw a stain of blood on the top of it—he said, "She opened the window that morning"—I then opened the window, and on the shutter, on the inside, I saw a mark of blood, apparently of a person with the finger doubled as if it had been splashed on; as if a finger had been doubled up in that way, and put it on in a heap; it was as if done with a knuckle—I then turned to Gardner, and told him that I had examined it seven or eight times previously, and was positive it was not there even the day before—he made me no answer—the shutters were two shutters, folding back against the wall on the outside—at this time one was shut and the other open—the one that was closed had the blood on it, the part facing the room as it was closed, it was quite dark, but easily discovered—I had examined the shutters eight or nine times previously, for we had been there daily—the blood was on the inside—on the following Saturday I went with Monger, and took a change of clothes for the girl Humbler to Gravesend—I asked her to change them for those she was wearing—we then examined the outside clothes there, and the linen we brought to Mr. Sequiera—there were no signs of anything on them—Humbler was hop-picking at Gravesend when we went down—we had to wait till she came from the field with her friends—the Coroner expressed a wish that the stockings should be got, on account of the girl's statement on her examination—I took her into the end of the court, and she instantly pulled them off in my presence and gave them to me—they were then examined by Dr. Sequiera—I looked at them myself and the gentlemen of the jury also, and they were given back to her—they were brown stockings—I saw no trace of anything on them—they were very dirty—we inspected them minutely, but we could see no trace of any blood upon them—we could have seen it on the leg if there had been any there, but on the sole of the foot the dirt was too thick—she had been running in the dirt with them, there is no doubt—they were given back to her.

Q. Did you know Mrs. Gardner yourself, what age she was? A. I knew nothing of her, except seeing door—there were four other old knives in the house, but none like the one produced.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you examine her clothes on the Monday? A.

Yes; and her feet and stockings—I did not examine the soles of her feet—she had a pair of slippers on, I did not take them off—I did not examine the soles of the slippers—I examined the whole of her clothes as she was standing—she said nothing then to me of her having trodden in blood—she seemed in too excited a state—she hardly knew what she was about—she showed me her clothes, taking them up one by one—she knew I was examining her for the purpose of finding whether there were any marks of blood upon her—the stockings were given up on the Wednesday following, at the inquest—they were examined at the inquest, the second time—they were taken off on Wednesday, the 17th, and given back to her on Wednesday, the 24th—that was done at the inquest after she had made her statement, in conseqnence of her having stated that she had trodden in blood—I can only say they were the same coloured stockings that she had on—if a person had trodden in blood it would leave an imprint on the floor—I saw several prints of that kind outside the door, and on the carpet, became there had been a dozen persons up and down—it had been puddled on to the floor—the head lay close to the door—they could not avoid it—the prisoner did not give me an account of what took place between himself and his wife on the Sunday night—he told me the girl had got to leave on the Monday morning, that he had given her warning, that he had ordered her to leave the house on the Monday morning—he did not say to me that the girl was annoying and teasing his wife on the Sunday night, and that he spoke to her about it, and that she kept on laughing and singing.

MR. POLAND. Q. I understand you to say that you saw marks of blood on the floor? A. Yes; against the door—the blood running from the wound soaked into the carpet—if you stepped into the room two or three feet it was like under the carpet; it caused a moisture and dampness, and when you stepped out it spurted from the carpet into the passed—it was a large pool of blood—I could see no traces any further than those done by the persons recently going up into the room to see the body.

THOMAS PALLET . I am ward-beadle of the Ward of Aldgate, in which the house, No. 1, Northumberland-alley, is situated—I went to the prisoner's house on Monday, 15th September, about half-past 8 in the morning—I found Mr. Sequiera there, with his assistant, the prisoner, and the woman Humbler, together with another woman in the room—I afterwards went up-stairs with Mobbs—Humbler came upstairs into the room with Mobbs and myself—I was not present when her under-clothing was examined, only her outer-clothing—I examined all the clothing in her box—I found not the least mark of blood on any of them—her bands appeared to be dirty, and not to have been freshly washed, as I should have expected—in their avocation as chimney-sweeps the hands would necessarily be dirty—I was present when the interior of the room, on the first-floor, was examined by Mobbs on the Tuesday, and again on the Thursday after the inquest had taken place—I did not examine the wall of the room on the first-floor—there were spots on the wall which the sergeant cut out with his pen-knife—that was on Thursday, 18th September—I had not examined the wall particularly on the Tuesday, my attention not having been at all called to it—I was present when the room below was examined by Mobbs on that Thursday, the 18th—the prisoner was there—I looked at the short curtain at the window on the ground-floor—the prisoner said, "Look here; here are some marks of blood here"—that was on the curtain; and he also remarked, "And here appears like the marks of a bloody hand"—that was across the outside window shutter, on the inside of the outer window shutter—that was the same day that the paper was cut off the

wall—it was on Thursday—my attention had never been directed to the window curtain or the shutters on any day previous to that Thursday.

Cross-examined. Q. You were present before that when they examined the room? A. I was present, and examined the room on the Monday and on the Tuesday, with the constable—he and I examined together—the prisoner was present, and rendered every assistance—he saw us examining—we examined together on the Thursday—the prisoner accompanied us in the same way—he offered no kind of obstruction; in fact, he gave every assistance, and produced all hit clothes—he said, "Here is a spot of blood on the curtain, and marks of blood on the window-shutter"—it was a white curtain—it was not a very large spot of blood—it was small, not the size of a half-crown; it would be nearer the size of a sixpence—I am short-sighted, but I can see that that is a piece of the paper that was cut off the wall—the other marks were cut off also, the smaller ones—they were not like this—they were very small, very minute—this was the largest—I cannot say now that this is blood—I am not a chemist.

WILLIAM MOBBS (re-examined). I produce some other pieces of paper that were cut off the wall (handing them in).

ANTHONY WILSON MONGER . I am a detective officer of the City police—I went to the prisoner's house on Thursday, 18th September—I went up to the room on the first-floor, and made a search there in company with Sergeant Mobbs and Mr. Pallet—I saw some blood on the wall, some at the head of the bed, some at the side, and some by the foot—Sergeant Mobbs left me to cut the paper out while I was speaking to Gardner—I said, "Gardner, I should very much like to see the deceased"—he said, "very well"—I took the lid off the coffin and looked at the body—it was in the first-floor room—the face of the deceased was quite black—the prisoner began to cry—he said, "My wife has been murdered"—I cautioned him, and asked him what made him think so, or if he suspected any one—he said, "I suspect Elizabeth Humbler"—I asked him for what reason he suspected her—he said, "I have seen her several times sharpening knives on the step of the door, and on the stone of the sink downstairs"—he said, "I have found knives up in her bedroom behind the door on several occasions; I have spoken to her about it, and asked her what it meant, and she has told me, 'It was to take your life, and then to take my own;' at another time she told me it was to take my life, some one's eke, and then her own"—after that we proceeded downstairs, and Gardner showed us a mark on the curtain of the window, something like a thumb or finger mark, and also on the shutter—he also told me, which I have never given in evidence before, that, three days after Humbler got married, he went to his club-house in Brick-lane; that he did not wish to stay there, and he came out; that he heard some one call after him, "Sam, Sam;" he said he turned round and saw Mrs. Humbler; he spoke to her, and they went and had something to drink; she said, "Sam, I thought you never intended speaking to me again; if you had not made it up, I meant this for you, and then for myself," at the same time drawing a large knife from beneath her mantle—he said, "I took her to a certain place, I need not tell you where, you can guess; I mean a brothel; she left me and went home, and I went home"—on the Saturday afterwards I went down to Gravesend in company with Mobbs—I saw Humbler there, and had some conversation with her.

Cross-examined. Q. You say he said, "She pulled a knife out?" A. Yes—he did not use the term "a small knife"—he said, "A very large knife"—I believe there is such a club-house in Brick-lane—I did not

examine the rooms on the Monday or Tuesday, I was not there—I only examined on the Thursday—Sergeant Mobbs and Mr. Pallet examined the Monday and Tuesday, besides other officers; I believe four altogether.

ELEANOR BUCKSTONE . I am a widow, of 7, Sussex-place, Leadenhall-street—I have known Gardner eighteen years—I had known the deceased twelve years—her name was Elizabeth Gardner—I cannot tell how old she was—I have heard say she was thirty-eight—on 15th September last, I went to the prisoner's house about 11 in the morning—I knocked at the door, and said, "Good morning, Mr. Gardner; is this true?"—he said, "It is too true"—he asked me to come in—I went in, and went up to the first-floor and saw the deceased lying on a mattress or paliasse—I said, "She never done it herself"—Mr. Gardner turned round, and said he was sure she never done it, for she was too weak nerved—I then left the house—I went back again the same afternoon between 4 and 5—Gardner was there then—there was no further conversation—I went again on Wednesday, the 17th—I was in and out of the house from Monday till Wednesday—on Wednesday evening I assisted in washing the body of the deceased—I washed it with care—in washing it I did not splash any blood on the wall—it was not nigh the wall—I saw the body placed in the coffin on Wednesday evening.

Cross-examined. Q. Where was the body placed when it was washed? A. On a board on the back of two chairs—there were two other females assisting me in the washing, but they are not here—the chairs were nearer the window than the bed—there was not a large tub of water; about half a pail full of luke-warm water—the other women washed as well as me—we each had a bit of flannel.

JAMES GARDNER . I am nineteen years of age—the deceased was any mother—the prisoner is not my father—I don't know whether my mother was a right or left-handed woman.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the habit of going to the house at all? A. Yes; frequently—I saw my mother and the prisoner together very often—they seemed to be on pretty good terms when I saw them—I know the girl Humbler—I have heard her laughing and jeering at my mother, and annoying her very much—I was at the house about two or three weeks before the death—I heard that Humbler had got express directions to leave—I heard the directions given to her by my mother—she was to leave on the Monday—I heard Humbler on one occasion say, once there, she would never leave the house—I was there on the Monday, about half-past 8, as near as I can guess—I did not see the prisoner touch the dead body of my mother—I was not there when he took the knife out of her hand.

WILLIAM PAYNE, ESQ . I am deputy-Coroner for the City of London—I held the inquest on the deceased—the prisoner was examined on the 17th, the first day of the inquest—he was there as one of the witnesses—he was sworn and examined—before he was sworn I told him that he might be examined if he pleased; that he was not bound to say anything unless he wished; the Jury were ready to hear what he said; that he must take the oath; that what he said I should take down, and it might be given in evidence against him afterwards—he said he was perfectly willing; that he wished to tell the Jury about it—he was examined—I took down his evidence—it was read over to him—he said it was correct, and signed it—this is his signature—Elizabeth Humbler was examined as a witness on the same occasion.

The examination of the prisoner was read as follows:

Samuel Gardner, 1, Northumberland-alley, chimney-sweeper, being swore

and duly cautioned, says: "I am willing to tell all I know about the matter. Deceased has been my wife for seven years. We lived together before marriage. We lived comfortably together for some years after marriage. Elizabeth Clark first came to my house five or six years ago, at servant. Three years after that we cohabited together. When the deceased found it out she was very disagreeable to it, and Clark had to leave the house. She has been away several times. She lived with me and the deceased. Clark then married a man named Humbler. I knew that she was married to Humbler. Deceased said the girl was worse after marriage than before. On Sunday morning I went out at 11 o'clock, and returned at 2 o'clock. Elizabeth Humbler and my wife were both there. I did not go out again after 2 o'clock. On Sunday evening, from 5 to 7, I and the girl had words together; deceased was there also. The girl was annoying and teasing my wife, and I spoke to her about it. She kept on laughing and singing. Deceased said to me, "When your back is turned it is worse than that" I then said, "There shall be an end to it." I then spoke to the girl, and said that next day I should have a few words to settle the matter; that I should not put up with such nonsense. The girl went to bed at 7 o'clock. I and deceased remained up. We slept together. We were friends then. At half-past 3 on Monday morning the police called me, as I wished. I looked at my watch, and found it was too early to get up, and I went to bed again. Deceased then said to me, "Did you hear that creature up and down in the night?" I said, "No." Deceased said, "I heard her at one o'clock come down from the top room, go to the bottom room, and then come into this room and take the candle off the table, and go down into the kitchen, and then up to the top room, and then come back and place the candle on the table where she took it from." I said, "Oh! well, don't bother, it will be decided to-day; we will have no more of it." I meant the girl's nonsense. That was all that passed between us. I got up at twenty minutes to 4, left the room at a quarter to 4, and dressed myself downstairs, and left the house at 4 o'clock. When I left the room, deceased was lying in bed, on her right side. She was awake. She had our child, three years old, with her. I covered deceased up with the bedclothes. I did not see the girl Humbler before I left. I went to sweep chimneys at Pope's Head-alley, Change-alley, and Purssell's. I went home at 8 o'clock, and then I found the doctor there. I never heard the girl threaten the deceased. The brooch found on the chair contains my likeness. It was locked up in the desk on Sunday. The key of the desk was kept in my trousers' pocket. Deceased had her wedding-ring on on Sunday night when we went to bed. I can't tell who wrote the letters produced. Deceased often spoke about them. They were kept in the top drawer. When I got up on Monday morning I saw them and the brooch, and the ring, on the chair. I swear that I took the knife out of deceased's right hand. I did not put it there. I have not spoken to the girl since about it. I did say to her on the Monday morning, "You've done this." I thought they had been quarrelling, and that she had done it; that she had killed her. I fancy I heard the knife drawer rattle on the Sunday night; I am almost certain that I did. I never had any quarrel with Humbler's husband. When I left home on Monday morning I pulled the door to, and no one could have got in without a key. It is a lock, not a mere latch. I washed the floor of the room next day. Deceased was not left-handed.—S. Gardner."

MR. RIBTON to ELIZABETH HUMBLER. Q. Did you ever say to Mrs. Gardner that when once you were there you would not go away? A. No

—about three weeks or a month before Mrs. Gardner met with this offered to leave, on a Wednesday night—Mr. Gardner was kicking up a bother with Mrs. Gardner—I offered to leave whenever he thought proper—it was one Wednesday evening; it was his club night—he came house, and he began rowing with Mrs. Gardner till half-past 1 in the morning; him and Mrs. Gardner were having a few words, and he said that me and Mrs. Gardner should both leave the house, and he should have the house to himself—I never said a word while they were quarrelling, but after they had done as Mr. Gardner was going upstairs to bed, I said, "Mr. Gardner, I would rather go than Mrs. Gardner;" and he said, "You mind your own business I believe I am master"—I never said that when I once got there I would never go away—I never said any such thing.

MR. RIBTON to JAMES GARDNER. Q. Did you hear the girl Humbler say, after she had received directions from your mother to go, that once she was there she was determined not to leave? A. Yes—I will be on my oath of it—it was about three or four weeks previous to this occurrence—I was not living in the house at the time—it was said in the house.

COURT. Q. Was it in the living-room, the room below, or the room above? A. In the room below; on the ground-floor there are three rooms, one over the other; this was said in the ground-floor room.

MR. POLAND. Q. Was anybody present at the time? A. No—I heard my mother say at the time that the girl Humbler should leave on the Monday.

Witnesses for the Defence.

GEORGE DAVIS . I live at 23, Harp-alley, Farringdon-street—I am porter at Baker's chop-house in Change-alley—the prisoner was in the habit of sweeping the chimneys at our chop-house—he was there last on Monday, 15th September—as the clock was striking 4 I let him in; he remained till half-past 5—he did his work—I was with him during the time.

JOHN GRAHAM . I am watchman in the service of Messrs. Purssell, of Cornhill—the prisoner was in the habit of sweeping our chimneys—he came to our place on Monday morning, 15th, about half-past 5, more or less—it was nearly that time, I can't say to a few minutes—our chimneys did not require sweeping, merely the hothouse cleaning, I think—he was there a very few minutes.

COURT. Q. Did he come to you by appointment? A. He always came every Monday regularly.

COURT to GEORGE DAVIS. Q. Was the prisoner with you by appointment, or did he regularly come every Monday? A. Every Monday and Thursday, twice a week, from 4 to half-past 5; 4 was the fixed hour for Monday, and half-past 6 to a quarter to 7 on Thursday.

ROBERT WILLIAM FLANDERS . I am proprietor of Lake's chop-house, 19, Finch-lane—the prisoner was in the habit of sweeping my chimneys—he last came on the Monday morning that this occurrence happened, the 15th September—I let him in at a quarter to 6 precisely—he left from twenty-five minutes after 6 to half-past 6.

COURT. Q. Was that the regular time for his coming? A. Yes, it was arranged.

WALTER JAMES CATHIE . I am manager of Reeve's chop-house, in Pope's-head-alley—the prisoner was in the habit of sweeping the chimneys there by contract—he came last on 15th September—I let him in between twenty-five and twenty minutes to 7—he remained until about twenty minutes to 8—it was his regular day for coming to us.

Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Q. Did you let him out? A. No, he

walked out, the door being open; I was not there when he went out—I know it was twenty minutes to 8 when he went out, because I saw him at twenty-five minutes past, sweeping the last flue that had to be done, and at ten minutes to 8 I came up into the room he was doing, and he was gone, and had been gone about five minutes—I saw him there myself at twenty-five minutes to 8—there were about six chimneys to sweep.

COURT. Q. How long does it take to sweep one? A. About eight or ten minutes, I suppose; it generally takes him about an hour to do the whole house.

MR. RIBTON. Q. How long has he been in the habit of coming? A. Several years, since I have been manager there—he came at the same time every fortnight.

GEORGE ALEXANDER GALLOWAY . I was employed at Reeve's chop-house, is Pope's-head-alley; I have left now—the prisoner was in the habit of sweeping the chimneys there—the last time I saw him there was on 15th September, the morning of the murder—I saw him from between twenty-five and twenty minutes to 7 up to ten minutes to 8—he was there all the time.

MR. RIBTON to JAMES GARDNER. Q. Did you ever hear Humbler say anything with reference to who the letters and valentines came from? A. No.

GUILTY.—The Jury recommended him very strongly to mercy on the plea that three might have been some disagreement or quarrel between the deceased and himself after the girl Humbler had gone to bed. — DEATH .

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, October 29th, 1862.


Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1079
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1079. CHARLES LORAINE MOORE (21) , Forging and uttering, on 4th September, a request for the delivery of 1 gun; also, forging and uttering, on 10th September, a request for the delivery of 1 gun; also on 5th October, forging and uttering a request for the delivery of 2 guns, with intent to defraud; to all of which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1080
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1080. HENRY KENT (47), ROBERT SYMES (23), GEORGE OLIVER (45), and JOHN FINNIS (24) , Stealing from a barge, on the river Thames, 10 quarters of wheat, the property of George Keen and mother, the masters of Kent and Symes.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE and MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.

ALBERT KEEN . I attend to my uncle's business at Coles' Upper-wharf, Horsleydown—my uncle and father are wharfingers—Kent and Symes were in our employ at the time this matter happened—Kent had been in our employ three or four years as a lighterman—on Thursday, 2d October, we had two barges of wheat, the Exchange and the Scion, wh ch had loaded from two vessels in the Victoria-dock, and from there they come to our two wharves, one to Coles' Upper-wharf, and the other to a wharf higher up the river, where they were to discharge—my uncle gave the men the directions, in my presence; I partly directed them—the Exchange had 284 quarters 6 bushels—I know that from the meter certificates—the barges ought each

to have been at the wharves on Thursday evening, 2d October, about 9 o'clock in the evening—Symes, and Wright, one of the witnesses, had charge of the Exchange—her cargo was 284 quarters 6 bushels of American spring wheat—it was the duty of one of them to stop with the barge until it came to the wharf, and the duty of the other to come home and say where it had got to—I was not there when it arrived—it arrived early in the morning—I first saw it on the Friday morning, between 7 and S o'clock, at the wharf—the men had left the craft; it is usual for them to go and get their meals if they have not had them—the cargo of the Exchange was loaded into the warehouse at Coles' Upper-wharf—it was afterwards weighed by Kelly, by my instructions; I did not see it weighed—the cargo of the Scion was American winter wheat—Kent and Gresham had charge of the Scion, the cargo of which was landed with the bulk in the warehouse—that was measured—I have been shown samples of both parcels, and we have compared them with the bulk in the warehouse; we have compared these samples with each of the cargoes, and found them correspond in every particular.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. (For Kent). Q. Was the wheat from the Scion weighed as well as the wheat from the Exchange? A. No—the wheat from the Scion was measured—I saw part of it in process of being landed—it was not measured as it was landed—it was placed with the bulk when it was landed—it was part of a cargo of some 1,500 quarters of whest, of which some was in the warehouse—the cargo of the Scion, as it was landed, was placed with that which we had already, all in one bulk—it had been measured by the meter into the barge, by one of the witnesses, not in my presence—it was measured part on the 1st and part on the 2d October, before it was placed in the barge—there was no measurement afterwards—there might have been perhaps 600 quarters or so of the bulk before that of the Scion was put to it—Kent was with a relation of ours for a great many years before he came to us—it was the duty of one of the men to come to the warehouse, and report and receive directions—he did come on the evening of the 2d, and made a report—the barge ought to have been with us on the Thursday night, but did not come till the Friday morning—Gresham was in our service, and it would be his duty to stay with the barge if Kent came to us—it will sometimes happen that they lose a tide, and cannot get to our place so soon as they should—we did not weigh the cargo of the Scion, but Kelly, who measured it, is here—it was not measured in the warehouse—I know Horn—he was not frequently at our place between the 2d and 15th October—he first came, I should think, some four or five days after the 2d, to identify the men—Clark, a constable, was with him—several of our men, amongst whom were Kent and Symes, were in the office at the time, and Horn said he did not see the men there—he came again some days afterwards, perhaps it might have been a week, I cannot exactly say the date; he then saw them in the warehouse, but did not again say they were not the men—he did not to my knowledge twice see them, and say they were not the men—I believe I expressed my satisfaction that none of my men had anything to do with it.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. (For Symes and Oliver). Q. Symes was in your employ for some years, was he not? A. He was some time with us, and left us, and then we had him again for some few months—he may have been with us altogether about three years—he was employed on the Exchange—Wright was with him—I saw the wheat loose in the barges—I saw the whole in process of being placed in the barges—I did not see that it was

stowed in bulk below, and covered with a quantity of sacks full of wheat—I did not see either of the barges when the stowing was completed.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD (for Finnis). Q. What was the exact date when you were first in communication with Horn? A. I should think some four or five days after it happened—it was on Friday, 3d October, that the inspector of police brought samples of the wheat to our place, but I cannot exactly tell the day or date that he first came—the first time I saw Horn and had any communication with him, was when he was brought to identify the men—he came with the inspector.

JAMES WRIGHT . I live at 22, Salisbury-lane, Bermondsey, and am in the employ of the prosecutors—on Thursday, 2d October, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I came out of the Victoria-docks, with a barge called the Exchange, which had a load of corn—I do not know the quantity—Symes was with me—as far as I know, it was wheat in bulk, but I could not see; it was locked down—I had a key of the batches, and so had Symes—we two were all hands—the Scion came out at the same time, just ahead of us—she had a cargo of corn, as far as I know—Gresham and Kent were with her—those hatches were locked in the same way—we came to the Surrey canal buoy, which is about a mile from my master's premises—we made the barges fast there at about a quarter to 9—there was another barge there, with flour in it—that was in the middle, and we made ours fast one on each side—I then went up to Mr. Keen's, and after that I got a night's work—we all four came on shore together, and I and Kent went up to Mr. Keen's—I went to no public-house first—the others went to their homes, as far as I know—some one ought to have remained with the barge—it was Symes' duty; he ought to have gone back again—when went to the Exchange in the morning; about 6 o'clock, I found him there waiting for me to come up—we then took the Exchange to the wharf and got there somewhere about 7 o'clock.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. It was no fault of any of you men that the barge did not get to Mr. Keen's that night? A. No; there was not sufficient tide to take us—it was about 9 o'clock when Kent and I left the barge the previous night and went up to our master's and made a report there—after that we found we had lost a warp, and I called from the shore to Kent for the boat to come back and bring me a rope; Kent brought it, and then rowed away, and I saw no more of him—it was Gresham's duty to remain with the other barge—when I went at 6 next morning, I found Kent where he ought to be—Kent was with one barge and Symes with the other.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. And when you went at 6 next morning you found Symes where he ought to be? A. Yes—the cargo was all right during the time of our coming from the Victoria-docks—the hatches were not opened during the whole distance—I do not know how the cargo was stowed; I had nothing at all to do with it—Symes lives about a mile or more from the place where the barges were made fast—he could easily have returned after going home to get something.

MR. METCALFE. Q. In what direction did Kent go away in the boat? A. When he left us he went in the direction of the wharf, where we had previously been—it was not his duty to go back to the Scion before the morning—Gresham was the man in charge of it.

WILLIAM GRESHAM . I live at 3, Love-lane, Rotherhithe, and am a lighter-man in the prosecutor's employ—on 2d October, I came out from the Victoria-dock in the Scion, with a load of corn—Kent was with me—Symes

and Wright were with the Exchange—we all went and took the two barges up to the Surrey Canal buoy, and made them fast there—the hatches on our barge were locked—we each had a key—the corn was not disturbed at all between the Victoria-dock and the time we left it at the buoy—we all went ashore, and I went home—I left Kent—I thought he was going home to get something to eat—it is the duty of one of us to go and remain with the barge after having got something to eat—it was my duty to do so that night—I had been out a night or two, and felt tired, and I thought, as the hatched were locked down, it was all safe, and so I did not go—Kent had no farther duty at the barge that night—I saw the flour barge between the other two barges—I returned to the Scion between 5 and 6 next morning—nobody was on board that or the other barge—I found Kent and Symes together at the stairs opposite the buoy, and they gave me a step off the boat—no one else was with them—they pulled me on board the barge—we all three went aboard together—after I had been there some little time Wright came—the things appeared all right when I got on board—we then brought the Scion up to the wharf.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you know Horn by sight? A. No; never saw him before.

MICHAEL HORN . I am a labourer—I went into Finnis's employ about three months ago—I had about three months' work—I know Symes and Kent—I recollect seeing Symes on 1st October—he said it was no us hiring a punt, because the craft could not come out of the docks—this was on a Wednesday, I think—the pant was to be hired to get some wheat—Symes said so—I saw Finnis that day—he did not say anything to me about it then—on the following day he told me to go and get a punt and get the wheat—he went to Croydon fair and left me to get 3l., 8s., 9d., for some oats, and after that I was to get a punt and get this wheat, and we only took seven quarter sacks of wheat off the wharf and a tarpaulin—I do not know exactly the quantity of wheat that was in the sacks—we were to get the wheat from three craft lying at the Surrey Canal buoy—before I hired the punt Oliver came up and said it was no use hiring the punt at present—that was on 2d October, so I waited till about 5 or 6 o'clock, and then he went home to his tea—he told me then to hire a punt, and he came over about 7 o'clock, and had a drop of beer, and we had to wait there till Symes came up, and he would take our punt down to where Mr. Keen's craft was lying—Oliver said we had better take seven quarter sacks—Symes came up between 9 and 10 o'clock at night, and then I went and got sacks and tarpaulin out of Finnish wharf—he had left me the key of his premises, and told me I should know what to do—I did know what to do, and I went to Bridge stairs and got a boatman to row me down to Union-stairs, and took the sacks and tarpaulin in Mellor's boat, which I had hired, and Symes and Oliver came off in the same boat—we then took the sacks and tarpaulin off the punt—we got the waterman to row us to Union-stairs to take the sacks off, as there were no boats at Union-stairs—we then all went on board the punt—Symes rowed us down to the Surrey Canal buoy, while Oliver and I were having some bread and meat—we got down to Mr. Keen's craft about half-past 10 at night, and turned about five quarters, or better, out of one barge into our own sacks; I laid them down in the barge—I won't be certain whether it was five quarters—afterwards we went and took about the same quantity loose out of sacks in the inside barge and shot it loose into our punt—Kent, Symes, Oliver, and myself, were present when that was done—before Kent came down, I and one of the other had a

quarter of wheat tilled in the outside barge, and then Kent rowed down in a skiff, and assisted us, and we got about five quarters of wheat out of each craft—the craft was locked down; Symes opened the outside barge before Kent came down; he took the hatches off—I cannot say who unlocked the other—there was a flour barge between the two barges from which we took the corn—after we had got the corn into our punt, Oliver and I covered it up, and then Symes and I dropped down with the tide to a coal collier, lying at King and Queen Granary, which is lower down than the Surrey Canal buoy, nut near Finnis's—Oliver stopped in the craft—after that, Kent came down is a skiff, and we went on shore to see if we could get any beer; the houses were closed, and then we rowed off again to Kent's craft and lay there till 3 o'clock in the morning—then they gave me a step into my punt and three of them rowed across to Shadwell after that—I got up to Finnish about 6 o'clock after having been to Ings and woke him up—Finnis lives at 27, Commercial-road-east—he opened the door to me himself—I saw his sister; she came to the window first, and I asked to see him—I did not tell her what I wanted; I asked her whether John Finnis was in, and then Finnis came—I told him we had got about ten quarters of wheat—he said, "Oh, did you?"—he asked me where I got it from—I told him the Surrey canal buoy, that I expected to have had to go to the East India Docks for it, but the craft came up to the Surrey Canal buoy—he said it was all right, and I told him to come and get it out of the craft—I waited for him—he walked down with me and went into Williams', and had some breakfast, and I went and shoved the punt ashore under his premises—he employed a chap named Wilson to heave on the crane, and about half an hour afterwards Ings came dowu—I and lugs were on the barge unloading it a little while afterwards, when another chap, named George Leggan, stepped on the punt, and asked if they wanted anybody to lend them a band—I left just before the boat was unloaded—that was, I should say, between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, but I will not be sure—I did not give any order to Finnis—I did not see or know of any order—I do not know a person of the name of Martin; I never heard of him—Kent and Symes came while we were unloading, and saw what was going on—Symes stepped on the punt, and said, "You have got about two quarters more left"—they spoke to Finnis—I could not hear what was said—I saw them go away; the two walked first, and Finnis walked behind them—that was just before it was unloaded.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. I suppose you thought this was a very honest transaction? A. Well I don't know; I was employed by Finnis to do it—when he employed me, I thought it was all right—I did not think there was much dishonesty in going at night, and getting the corn from this place—I never saw Kent till the night of 2d October at least I have seen him before, working in his craft, or anything like that—I knew him by sight—he was apprehended on the 15th—I do not believe I saw him above once or so between the morning of 3d October and the 15th—that once was over the water, on a Saturday night; it was in the Neckinger-road or somewhere about there—I met him and Oliver in the street—that was about the only time I saw him—I went to Kent's place twice, I think, between 3d and 15th October—I recollect the first time, but I do not know the day of the month; I cannot say how many days after 2d October—it was something about a week—I went again about two or three days, I should think, after the first time—Clark, the constable, was with me on both occasions—I cannot tell you the time at which Kent came down that morning, more closely than that it was between 9 and 10; I never looked at

the clock—he did not stop very long; between eight and ten minutes—Symes was there about the same time—they both came together and went away together—I have known Leggan some time, and Wilson a good which about two or three years—I am a labourer on the water; not in any regular employment—I have been tried once for stealing lead, and was acquitted—that was the first time I was in custody—it is about two or three years ago—I have never been in custody since—I was in regular employment about five years ago—I am getting on for eighteen years old—I have not been in regular employment since I was thirteen—I worked for Mr. Finnis about three months ago, and I used to do jobs for Mr. Field, a lighterman.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. What were your wages in Finnis's employ? A. 8s., a week—I was doing jobs for him nearly ever day before this transaction took place—I was not in regular employment, but when he wanted a hand he employed me—it was between 6 and 7 o'clock when Finnis went to his breakfast after I had given him notice that the wheat had arrived—I did not go to the wharf with him—I came down to Williams' with him, and he went and had his breakfast while I shoved the punt ashore—he got there soon after; he was not very long over his breakfast—the unloading began at 8 o'clock, as near as I can guess—it was does between 10 and 11—he told me he was going to Croydon fair that day; he gave me the keys of the place and told me to receive the money—I could not get the tarpaulin out without the keys—he told me to leave the keys at Mr. Hoole's public-house—if I had obeyed that order, I could not have get the sacks and tarpaulin that I afterwards did get—we could have got the corn without them—3l., 8s., 9d., was the sum his mentioned that I was to get—I was to keep it in my pocket and give it to him when I saw him again—I left 3l., at Hoole's—I had the 8s., 9d., myself; because I could not leave odd shillings, therefore I kept it in my pocket—I swear that I did not have orders to leave the 3l., 8s., 9d., at Hoole's—I did not say anything to Finnis about keeping the 8s., 9d., myself and only leaving the 3l., at Hoole's.

Q. What did you do with the 8s., 9d.? A. Well, I had a boy to lend me a hand with the punt, and gave him 4d., and the share of a pint of beer; I lent Symes 1s., 6d., and Oliver a shilling, and I had some beer and a bit of baccy, and kept the rest of the money—I wanted some money to get grub—I could not be all night without grub—Finnis knew that—I was in communication with Inspector Clark very soon after this—I cannot say how soon; about three or four days, I should say; somewhere about that—I went with him to try and identify the men—that was a good while after; about a week or so—I had made a statement to Clark that Finnis knew nothing about it, and that I had hired the punt without his knowing I had anything to do with it—I first made that statement to Clark about three or four days after the robbery—I did not tell him that a written order had come from a Mr. Martin, because I did not know the man's name—I did not name any person—I said one of the men had given me a written order, and that I had given it to Finnis—it is true that I had gone to Finnis's house that morning—Finnis told me of the job about two days before the wheat was stolen—he said he was going to be a job of wheat with Symes—that was all he said that I can recollect—the next day he told me he did not care about doing it himself, and would I go in his room, and do it for him—he told me I should have to get a punt or something—that was all he said then—the next time he spoke to me about it was when he was going to Croydon fair—he told me to got a craft, and

receive 3l., 8l., 9d., and then afterwards, when I got the money, to look up the place, and that then I knew what to do, and he told me to get the seven quarter sacks and the tarpaulin—the tarpaulin was all dirty the day before, and I had cleaned it—that was all he said to me before I began to do anything—he did not say anything about its being at the Surrey-canal—he did not know where it was to be got—I have told you now all that he said about it—I know that he went down to the Court to ask the Magistrate what he should do with the property—I went with him, but did not go into this Court—that is a good while ago—it was two or three days after the transaction took place.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Did Finnis know that you were in communication with Inspector Clark? A. Not that I am not aware of—I never told him that Clark had been speaking to me—when I said that I had given the order to Finnis, that was not true—I told the inspector so, because Finnis told me so—he made up the yarn himself—he told it to me the same day that the police came, and were watching the place—I remember their coming on the wharf when I was standing next door to Hoole's place—Finnis said to me, "You had better step it out of the way "—I said, "No, I will stand here "—he said, "You had better step it as quick as your legs will let you—Inspector Clark was standing by at the time, but did not hear what he said—I walked away, and got up pretty nearly as far as the Dublin wharf—in consequence of what he said, I went over the water, and stopped there, walking about—I did not see Finnis over there—I saw him when I came back from over the water—I think it was the next day—he called me down the passage to Union-stairs, and told me what he had made up to say—he told me to ay that he went to Croydon fair, and while he was gone I had to lock up the place after I had received some money, and that two men came and asked was this Finnis's place, that I was to say "Yes, it was," and then the two men said they wanted some wheat landed, that he had landed some for them before, and they should want a punt to clear the ship that night; that I was to say I went and hired the punt, that I thought it was doing him a good turn, and putting a few shillings in my own pocket—that when I came ashore I was to say that I had left the key at the pier, and that they asked me to have something to drink, that I did not feel inclined for it; that they book the punt away somewhere, I did not know where, and next morning they came and gave me the key as I was coming out, and a note to take, up to Finnis—he said, "Stick to that, and we shall all get clear of it"—that was the story that I told the officer—I don't know what day of the month I told him, but I went up with him to Mr. Young's office, I and George Leggan, and then I told him the truth—I was persuaded to do so—I cannot read or write—I could cot read what was in the Papers, and people were telling me that I was kept in the dark, and had all the weight on my shoulders, and then it was that I made the communication—people kept telling me that I was a fool—Finnis made no complaint of my having kept back the 8s., 9d.,—he knew that I had done so—I told him next morning that I had left the 3l., at Hoole's, and had the rest myself, and he never said anything about it—I saw Kent on one occasion afterwards, before I was taken to identify him—I told him the same story that Finnis had told me, and he said it was a very good thing—when I went the first time I did not identify them—I have not known Kent long—I knew him by sight, that was all—I am in no employment now.

GEORGE LEGGAN . I am a labourer, living in Globe-street, St George's I know Finnis's wharf—I recollect being there on a Thursday in the beginning

of October, I think it was, but I won't be sure—I forget the day of the month—the wheat was being landed from about half-past 7 to half-past 8; or it might have been a little later—I was employed by Finnis on that occasion—I can't say that I had ever been employed by him before—I asked him if he wanted any help, and he said, "Yes, you can bear off if you like," and I helped to bear it off—Horn, Finnis, and a man named Ings, were there, and Symes and Kent also were there—they were persons that I had known before—I saw them speaking to Finnis—I did not hear what they said, because I was on the barge.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. What time was it that you were first down there that morning? A. About half-past 7—it might have been two or three minutes after that that I spoke to Finnis, and asked him if he wanted any hands—I was there till about twenty minutes to 9—it was between 8 and 9 when I saw Kent there—I saw him there some four or five minutes—Ings came at the same time—I forget whether they went away together; if they did not go together, they were not above two or three minutes after one another—I have known Horn six or seven years—I have only been in custody once—I swear that—I was convicted once, and had five months—that was on suspicion of felony—I don't suppose I was exactly innocent—that was getting on for five years ago—I am twenty-nine years old—I have never been in custody since then on any charge; oh, yes! there was one time I got taken in custody, in connexion with a woman, for passage a bad half-crown, but I got acquitted—that was some considerable time age; not more than five years—I am quite sure there was no other occasion what ever—I am apprenticed to the water, but I work as a labourer—I am not in any regular employment—I work on ships, stone loading.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How far is it from Finnis's wharf to the prosecutor's; half a mile? A. No—I don't know where Kent and Symes live, or where they take their meals.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Was it a case before a Magistrate where you were committed for five months? A. Yes, for unlawful possession—when I was tried about the coin I was honourably acquitted—it was proved that I was not connected with the woman at all—it was a Magistrate who sentenced me to the five months, not a Jury—I had known Finnis a long while before—I can't say whether he knew of these matters.

THOMAS WILSON . I am a labourer—I remember being at Finnis's wharf on Friday morning, I think 2d October, about 8 o'clock—I was employed by Finnis to unload some wheat out of the barge—Finnis was present part of the time—I also saw Horn there, and Ings—I saw two other men there that morning, but I don't know their names—I think Symes is one of them—I have no recollection of the other one at all—he went away alone.

COURT. Q. You say he and another came together? A. Yes, I think there was another; I won't be certain—I had been employed by Symes before—I was unloading corn.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. What were you doing on the wharf at this time? A. Heaving the crane—I was engaged at my work—I had never seen Symes before on the wharf, but I have seen him in the street—I knew his face, but had never spoken to him—I was once convicted of unlawful possession—that was six years ago—I was never in trouble before nor since—I had six weeks.

JOHN EVANS . I am in the employ of Messrs. William and George Downing, of Bermondsey, barge builders—on Thursday evening, 2d October, Horn came to me between 6 and 7 o'clock, for a punt called the Elm, for John

Finnis—he took it away with him—he returned it on Sunday morning—I had known Horn previously, as Finnis's man, by his coming for Finnis—I had let barges to Finnis in that way three or four times previously.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did he mention Mr. Finnis's name at the time? A. Yes—no bargain was made as to what was to be paid for the barge—they know the price—3s., a day is the price for a punt—he did not pay me for it—I have never been paid for it.

COURT. Q. Have you applied for the money? A. No, I never have anything to do with the money—I am not the person who receives it.

JOHN HOOLE . I keep the Turk's Head public-house, High-street, Wapping, next door to Finnis's wharf—I know Finnis—on Thursday evening, 2d October, I saw Horn at my house between 9 and 10 o'clock—be left 3l., with me for John Finnis, to whom I afterwards gave it.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You did not see Symes or Oliver? A. I did not.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. You have known Finnis some time, I believe? A. Twelve years—his character during that time has been very good—he is quite a young man—I think he has been set up in business about twelve months.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Do you know his handwriting? A. No I do not; I never had any business to transact with him, so as to see his writing—I have never, to my knowledge, seen his writing during the twelve years.

THOMAS CLARK (Thames Police-inspector). I received some information on Friday, 3d October, from Adams, a constable, in consequence of which, I went to Finnis's wharf between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, and saw Finnis—I said to him, "Have you received a quantity of wheat this morning"—he said, "Yes," pointing to some wheat on the jetty at the wharf—I said, "On whose order did you receive this wheat?”—he said, "I received an order from the boy Horn, for Mr. Martin"—I said, "Do you know Mr. Martin?"—he said, "Yes, I have had dealings with Mr. Martin once or twice before"—he said, "I received three quarters of wheat about a fortnight ago from him"—he then immediately said, "No, I received five quarters of wheat from him five weeks ago"—he said that as if correcting himself—he produced this order (produced)—I said, "Do you mean Mr. Martin or Bob Symes?"—he said, "No, I know Bob Symes well"—nothing further took place about the order—(Order read: "2d October, 1862. Mr. Finnis, please receive the lot of wheat, about ten quarters, and land till farther orders. W. Martin, Neckinger-road")—I went to Mr. Martin's immediately, but have not been able to find any such person—I have known the road for years—I never knew any person of the name of Martin in it—there is a receipt given for any property which I may take away when I take a prisoner in custody—I desired the prisoner to write a receipt for the property received from me—I saw him write it—that is the only occasion that I have ever seen him write—I have examined this order, and believed it to be in his handwriting—I form that conclusion from what I saw him write.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. How is it you form that conclusion about the handwriting? A. By the formation of several letters in the order—they are formed similar to those on the receipt—I say that from comparing the two.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Was Symes admitted to bail? A. Yes.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. So was Kent, I believe, and surrendered this morning? A. Yes.

WILLIAM ADAMS (Thames policeman, 30). On Friday, 3d October between 8 and 9 in the morning, I saw the barge Elm lying at Finnis wharf—it had the name of Downing on it—there was a quantity of what lying in it, and some three or four sacks filled—Mr. Finnis was on the wharf in the barge—I saw Horn in the barge holding up the sacks, which were being filled by Ings—I saw Leggan standing on the cabin head, bearing the sacks off so that they might come off on to the wharf—Wilson was heaving at the crane—I am not in a position to say what quantity had been landed—I only saw a portion of it on the wharf afterwards—there was about ten quarters and a half altogether, including what I saw on the wharf and in the barge—I told Inspector Clark, and he went on to the wharf about had an hour afterwards—I afterwards saw the order that has been produced—I did not speak to Finnis then—I was not in a galley, but on shore; on the wharf—I did not speak to Finnis before Clark came—I was on the wharf at that time—I did not speak to any of them—I afterwards heard Finnis tell Clark that he received the order from the lad Horn at 7 o'clock that morning, and that he came down on account of that order—he said had dealings with Mr. Martin before; that he had landed some three quarters two weeks ago, and some five or six quarters five weeks ago.

Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. About what time was it that you were down there? A. Between 8 and 9 in the morning—it might be about a quarter to 9 when I first saw it—I remained about five or ten minutes—it might be under that.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. Can you tell me what date you were first in communication with the boy Horn? A. No; I cannot exactly—I think it was the same evening; yes, it was the same evening—I think it would be about a week afterwards that he first made any statement me implicating Finnis.

COURT to THOMAS CLARK. Q. Did you show some samples to Mr. Keen? A. Yes, which I got from the ten quarters that I received from Finnis at his premises—it was part of what I saw landed from the punt.

Kent and Finnis received good characters.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1081
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1081. WILLIAM BROWN (28) , Feloniously wounding Arthur Warren upon his head, with intent to main and disable him; Second Count, with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

ARTHUR WARREN . I am a sub-warder in the House of Correction, Cold-bath-fields—the prisoner was a prisoner there—he had been confined these since the 7th July last—on Monday morning, 22d September, I reported him to the Governor, for some breach of the prison rules—in consequence of that report he was confined in his cell during the day—in the afternoon, at fifty-five minutes past 5, I was in the dining hall—the prisoner came in with the other prisoners, and he came in behind me—I was sitting on a stool, with my back partly towards him—I saw him lift his hand with some instrument in it—I then declined my head to escape the blow, and I felt myself struck on the head behind the right ear—he then made use of the words, "I will die on the scaffold for you, you b——, I will"—the wound bled, and one of the other warders, named Lloyd, came to my assistance—I saw this piece of iron (produced) in the prisoner's hand, and afterwards in the officer's hand—it was held in this position, like a dagger.

Prisoner. Q. Did you go anywhere after you were stabbed, as you say? A. I went to the centre of the room—after I left the room I went to the

office to show the wound to the deputy governor—the surgeon of the prisoner has examined the wound—I went to the infirmary to have it dressed immediately afterwards—I saw the surgeon a week afterwards.

HENRY LLOYD . I am one of the warden at the House of Correction—on 22d September, I was in the dining room—I saw the prisoner there, and saw the last witness sitting on a stool—as the prisoner led into the room, I saw him make a blow at Warren with that hook or piece of iron—he held it as if he had got a dagger—he seemed to strike with great violence—Warren immediately ran to the centre of the room where I was—I went up to the prisoner and got it from him—at the time the prisoner struck the blow he said, "You b——, I will die on the gibbet for you; I don't think you will report any more"—I was about half a dozen yards from him at the time he struck the blow—this piece of iron is part of the window—it was broken off the cell window where he was confined during the day, and sharpened.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see any blood that night? A. Yes, I did—not before I took you out of the yard—I did not stop to look at the wound.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN . I am a sub-warder at the House of Correction—on the 22d October, the prisoner's mother came to see him—I was present at the interview which took place—he told his mother that he had been stabbing one of the officers, and that he was going to be tried at the Old Bailey for the offence—he told her that the officer had reported him wrongfully, and that he would put his lights out for him—his mother asked him if the officer was seriously hurt, and he told her that the surgeon had reported that he looked very queer about the eyes since, and that if he got an opportunity now he would blind him—his mother then asked him if he thought he should come back there again—he said, "No; if I get four years I shall got; should I, I will be hanged for it."

Prisoner. Q. It is false; I never made use of that observation.

WILLIAM SMILES . I am surgeon to the House of Correction—on 27th September, I examined Warren's wound—it had then been previously dressed by the infirmary warder—the wound was just at the back, a little above the ear, on the right side; the skin was broken—it had slipped along the bone—it was such a wound as this instrument might have inflicted—it was not of a dangerous character—if the man had not stooped down it might have hit him on the carotid artery, or the jugular vein.

COURT. Q. Or the skull? A. Yes; it might have hurt the temple; being a little circular, it had slipped off the bone.

Prisoner. Q. When did you see the warder? A. On the 27th; five days afterwards.

Prisoner's Defence. I have got nothing more to say.

GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.

MR. POLAND stated that the prisoner had been in the prison before, and had been handcuffed for threatening the Governor and Dr. Smiles.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1082
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1082. JAMES LEARY (47) , Feloniously wounding Ellen Leary on the head and hand, with intent to do her some grievous bodily harm.

MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM GREENAWAY (Policeman, T 191). On 1st October, about half-past 2 in the morning, I heard screams of "Murder" in Jenning's-buildings, Kensington—I went there, and saw the prisoner's wife lying on her back, and the prisoner leaning over her, striking her—when he saw me he ran away—I stooped down, lifted his wife up, and rested her on my knee—I found the blood streaming down her face—she was covered with blood—I led her to

The top of the Buildings, where I met the sergeant, who went to look after the prisoner—I took the woman to the station, and sent for the doctor.

JAMES HITCHCOCK (Police-sergeant, T 25). About half-past 2 o'clock on the morning of 1st October, I heard a cry of "Police!" in Jenning's buildings, and saw the last witness with the prisoner's wife—she was streaming down with blood—I went in search of the prisoner—I went to his room and found the door looked—I got it open, and found the room covered with blood, and the doors and staircase—I then went into the next house, where I found the prisoner in the passage—I told him I wanted to take him in custody for assaulting his wife—he said, "All right; she assaulted me first, and then fell downstairs"—at the station I asked him if he had got any knife, and gave me up this knife (produced)—it was covered with blood and some hair was on it—he afterwards asked me if he might look at the knife—I did not allow him to do so—he asked me if there was any blood upon it—I said, "Yes"—he asked his wife, at the time he was charged, not to go hard with him, and she refused to sign the charge-sheet—her head was cut in several places, and her and was very severely cut—the prisoner's hands were wet with blood, and the sleeve of his coat had got wet blood on it—there was a slight scratch on his cheek, which I had seen previous to this occurrence—I was in his company about twenty minutes before this occurred; up in his room with him.

Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. You saw her hand bleeding, I think? A. Yes; and one of her fingers—I know a person named Patrick Quirk—I heard that he and the prisoner had been fighting together, about 8 o'clock in the evening—the woman was drunk.

COURT. Q. When she declined to sign the charge-sheet, did she give any reason for it? A. She said it would be the worse for her afterwards, therefore she would not charge him—she also added that it was her own fault.

JOHN BELGRAVE GUAZZARONI . I am a surgeon, and medical officer of the parish of Kensington—on 1st October I was sent for to the police-station—I found the prisoner's wife there, bleeding very profusely from several wounds in the head—she had evidently been drinking—she was suffering from loss of blood—some of the wounds were punctured and others incised in the scalp—there was also a severe wound between the right forefinger and thumb of the right hand—some of them were severe wounds, about an inch and a half in length—some of them were of a serious character—erysipelas might have followed—I sent her to the workhouse—I was afterwards sent for to attend her again there, in consequence of her bleeding from the hand—she remained under my charge for about a fortnight—the wounds could certainly not have been inflicted by a fall—they could be inflicted by such an instrument as this knife.

GUILTY.** Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

The prisoner had been twice before convicted, once for assaulting his wife, and once for assaulting the police, and on each occasion had been sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1083
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1083. JOHN FENNE (29) , Stealing 1 purse and 49l., in money of Harriet Blackburn, from her person. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY SUTTON . I am clerk to Messrs. Robarts, the bankers—Mr. Ravenhill banks there—on the 15th August I cashed a cheque for 135l., 15s., and gave some bank notes to Mr. Ravenhill's clerk—I am reading from a book which was made yesterday—I could not bring the original book; it is in use.

THE COURT directed the witness to fetch the book from the bank.

WILLIAM SANDERSON . I am clerk to Mr. Ravenhill, a stockbroker, at 21 Throgmorton-street—I know Mrs. Blackburn—on 15th August I cashed a cheque for 135l., 15s., at Messrs, Roberts, and received from Mr. Sutton some bank notes—there were three tens, two fifties, and one five—I gave those notes which I had received for that cheque to Mr. Ravenhill—this in the cheque (produced).

CHARLES RAVENHILL . I am a stockbroker—I drew this cheque on Messers, Robarts, and gave it to my clerk to get cashed on the 15th August—he returned and gave me some bank notes—they were two fifty-pound notes, three ten-pound notes, one five-pound note, and some small change, 15s.,—I gave those notes to Mrs. Blackburn just as I received them, on the 15th, the day following the date of the cheque.

HARRIET BLACKBURN . I live at No. 1, Punderson-place, Bethnal Green-road—on 15th August I received from Mr. Ravenhill the sum of 135l., 15s.; there were three fifty-pound bank notes, three tens, one five, and some silver—I received them at Throgmorton-street, at Mr. Ravenhill's office, and from there I went to Messrs. Smith, Payne's, the bankers; that is just by the Mansion House—I did not walk straight there—I went to St. Paul's-church yard first—the notes were in my purse, in my pocket—I paid some money at Smith, Payne's—I took the money from my purse—I separated that which I was going to pay there from the remainder, in the bank—I left in my purse the three ten-pound notes, and about 19l., in gold, and put my purse in my pocket—there was a printed list on the top of the purse, and my handkerchief was in my pocket also—nothing attracted my attention at the bank—there were other persons there—I did not go to the counter for a minute or two—the clerk beckoned, moved his hand, and I went forward and paid the money—after I made that payment, I put my purse back in my pocket and left the bank—I went home by omnibus, and immediately I got home I missed my purse—I had not been to any other place in the meantime—the printed list was safe in my pocket when I got home, and the handkerchief, but the purse had been abstracted—the next morning I stopped the notes at the bank—on 4th September I was taken to the police-station, somewhere in the City—I saw the prisoner there with the police-officer—when I went in the prisoner said, "This is the lady," or, "Is this the lady?" I am not sure which—he said nothing else to me—I had seen him somewhere before, but I cannot tell where—I don't know at all where it was, but I am quite sure I had seen him somewhere before—I had not written on the notes at all.

CHARLES BEAUMONT . I am assistant to Mr. Vaughan, a pawnbroker and money-changer, of 39, Strand—on 4th September last the prisoner came to our shop, I should think at a little after 12; about half-past 12 in the day-time—he wanted me to give him some foreign money for English notes—he produced three fifties and a ten—I gave him foreign money for them; that was not on the first occasion—Mr. Vaughan's foreman gave him some Prussian notes on the first occasion—I was not present—he came in again about ten minutes after he went out—he then produced the two fifties and the ten-pound note, and asked for Prussian thalers—Mr. Vaughan was there—the prisoner wrote his name on one of the notes, and Mr. Vaughan said, "Would you be kind enough to give me your address?"—he said, "No. 10, Peacock-terrace, Camberwell”—I saw Mr. Vaughan write that address on the ten-pound bank note—this is the note (produced)—Mr. Vaughan did not write his name, he wrote the address—the prisoner wrote the same name on the other note, but a different address he did not say

anything besides giving that address, which is written here—I have him foreign money in change for the English notes he gave me—I have him Prussian notes, some French notes, and some Napoleons—he asked me to wrap the money up in paper, which I did, and sealed it—the number of this note is 30, 329—this is the paper (produced) in which I sealed up the foreign money—I have the seal here.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Do you recollect this person changing money with you before. A. No; I do not.

JOHN JONES VAUGHAN . I am a money-changer in the Strand—I remember seeing the prisoner in my shop—I believe it was on 4th September—he gave me an address which I wrote on this bank note—he wrote the name himself—this address is the address he gave me, and which I wrote—I asked address the and wrote accordingly.

Cross-examined. Q. You had known him before as doing business at your place? A. No; not before that day—he came three times on that day—I only saw him on the last occasion—I do not remember his changing money with me on a former occasion.

WILLIAM CHARLES HAAS . I am manager to Peter Haas, a money-change, of 15, Fenchurch-street, City—on 4th September the prisoner came to our shop and produced 75l., in Bank of England notes—he wished those notes changed into French, Belgian, and German money—I think it was before 12 o'clock in the day that he came, I can't exactly remember—I asked his to write his name and address on one of the notes, which he did—it was on this five-pound note (produced) that he wrote it—it is Mons. Fenne, 14, Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park—there was also a ten-pound note amongst the others—I copied the name from the five-pound note on to the ten-pound note—I have it here—it is in my handwriting—the number is 30, 327—that is one that I received from the prisoner—I gave him the foreign money is exchange, and from something that occurred I directed the lad to watch him—I immediately went to the Bank of England to change these notes, and found that the ten-pound note, numbered 30, 327 had been stopped—when I found that I went to an officer, and went with him to some dining-rooms in Nicholas-lane—we found the prisoner there—I did not say any—thing at all to him—the officer spoke to him—he wished to know whether he had not changed some foreign money at a bullion office in Fenchurch-street and he said "Yes."

Cross-examined. Q. You had changed money for this person before? A. I believe I had seen him before—I had seen him in the office before—he might have only been there to make inquiries, I can't say—I cannot say positively whether I have changed money for him before—I believe I have done business with him.

GEORGE RUSSELL . I am a detective officer of the City—on the afternoon of 4th September, Mr. Haas spoke to me, and I went with him and a brother officer, named Packman, to some dining-rooms in Nicholas-lane—I there found the prisoner—I told him we were officers, and that one of the notes he had changed at Mr. Haas' was a stolen note—that he had better accompany us to the Bank of England and explain the matter—we then went to the Bank—I showed him the ten-pound note, and asked him if that was the note he changed at Mr. Haas'—he said at first he did not think it was, but he afterwards said, "Yes; I believe it is the note"—I told him it was a stolen note, and asked him to tell us who he was and what he was, and give us his address—he said his name was John Fenne, that he was a professed gambler, and that he lived in 1, Russell-place, Old Kent-road—

Mr. Haas was standing by at the time, and I asked him if that was the address the prisoner had given at his shop, and which had been written on the note—Mr. Haas said it was not; the address he had given there was 14, Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park—I then asked the prisoner how he reconciled the different addresses that he had given—he said he formerly used to live at 14, Peacock-terrace, that he had just returned to England, and he had given the address of the place he lived at before he left—I asked him where Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park, was, and he said, "Down the road on the left hand side," or, at least, "Down the left hand side”—I then asked him how he became possessed of the note—he said he had taken it at the gambling tables at Baden about fourteen days ago, but he could not tell from whom he received it—I then asked him if he could give us any reference in London, to any person who knew him, or who he knew—he said he could not, as he had been in England such a short time—I then told him that his account was so unsatisfactory I should, take him into custody—on the way to the police-station, he said, "This is a very hard ease”—I said, "If it is, you have brought it all on yourself; a short time ago a person went into Mr. Nathan's shop, in Cornhill, and changed 145l., worth of stolen notes, and gave the some address that you have given, 14, Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park, and there is no such place"—he did not make any answer to that—I looked him up at the police-station—after that I went with Packman to the address he at first gave, 1, Russell-place, Old Kent-road—I made a search and found this brass-plate in a box there, (read) "Mons. Murray, Professeur Gymnastiques Medicale," which I afterwards took possession of—the prisoner afterwards said that he gave the address, Peacock-terrace, as it was the first thing that came in his head—he thought it was a mere formal thing giving an address at all—I told him I had found the plate, and ascertained that his name was Murray—he said, "My name is Fenne."

Cross-examined. Q. This plate was found in a box, not on the door? A. Yes; in a box—there is a Peacock-terrace in London, but not in Victoria-park.

ROBERT PACKMAN. I am a City detective—I went with Russell to some dining-rooms in Nicholas-lane—as I was leaving there I saw a piece of paper on the table—when we entered the room the prisoner, who was there, had a quantity of gold in this piece of paper—he appeared to be counting it—he took the remainder of the gold out, and as we were leaving the room he left the paper on the table—I noticed it, and said, "You have left your paper"—he said, "Never mind about that"—I went back and fetched it; this is it—he gave his name and address, "Fenne, 1, Russell-place, Old Kent-road”—the other officer then asked Mr. Haas what address the prisoner had written on the back of the note which he had changed at his place—Mr. Haas said, "14, Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park”—one of the notes was torn—when I searched the prisoner I took some money from him, English and foreign—previously, at the Bank of England, I asked him if he had any notes about him—he said; "No," but when I searched I found a five-pound note on him—he said, "I should like to write my name on that note"—I gave him the note, and my pencil, and he tore a piece off the corner of the note, and said, "That is my way of marking a note"—I directly snatched it away from him.

PRISCILLA PAGE . I live with my parents, at 44, Great Wild-street, and was formerly servant to the prisoner, at 15, King's-road, Walworth—I was there nearly two months; in June and July last—the prisoner was living there in the name of Monsieur Murray—this brass plate was on the door—

he was living there with his wife—there were no other persons living there.

Cross-examined. Q. He left to go abroad, I think, shortly before you left, did he not? A. Yes—that was about the end of July or the beginning of August—I think it was the end of July.

RICHARD JOSEPH DICKENS . I am a house agent, in the Old Kent-road—I let the prisoner the house, 15, King's-road, Camber well, on the 28th of April, in the name of Hugh Murray—he signed that name to this agreement—I saw this brass plate on the door afterwards—a person representing herself to be his wife called on me on 1st September, and possession was given up on that day.

Cross-examined. Q. When did you last see him in England? A. A day or two after I let the house—I did not see him subsequently.

THOMAS ORGER . I live at Cold Harbour-lane, Brixton, and am the owner of 1, Russell-place—I let that house to the prisoner on Friday, 29th August—he took it on that day, and paid the rent in advance, up to next Christmas—he took it in the name of John Fenne.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe he gave you references; satisfied you of his respectability? A. Yes; or I should not have had him in the house—I made inquiries about his character, and got a good one.

DONALD KING . I am clerk at Messrs. Twining's, the bankers, in the Strand—I remember the prisoner coming to the bank on 16th August—he brought a bill for 100l., for payment—he called again on the 22d, and I paid him the money—he wrote the name of John Watson on the back of the bill—it is dated 13th August, from Baden Baden.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you got the bill here? A. Yes—he called on the 16th and the 22d of August—I can fix those dates, because the bill is dated.

HENRY SUTTON (re-examined). This is the cheque that I cashed on 15th August—I gave, in payment for it, two fifty-pound notes, three ten-pound, and one five-pound note—the numbers of the tens were 30,327, 30,328, and 30,329, dated 9th May, 1862.

RICHARD ADYE BAILY . I produce three bank-notes, two for ten pound, and one for five pounds—the ten-pound notes are numbered 30,327 and 30,329, and the five-pound note is the one brought to the bank on 10th September—the ten-pound note, numbered 30,329, was paid into the bank on the 5th.

COURT to GEORGE RUSSELL. Q. You said there was no Peacock-terrace, Victoria-park; is there any Peacock-terrace, Camberwell? A. I think there is; I am not sure; I do not know that there is not.

The prisoner received a good character from William Henry Dry, a surgeon, of 40, Salisbury-place, Walworth.

GUILTY on the Second Count. †— Six Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1084
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1084. WILLIAM GEORGE WINWOOD (24) , Stealing 36lbs. of lead and 3lbs. of copper, the property of Her Majesty's Secretary of State for the War Department, his master; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1085
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1085. DAVID BRYAN (42) , Stealing 60 shoes, 24 boots, and 2 pieces of webbing, the property of Amos Loseby; and 2 boots, the property of Baer Adolph Manheim; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by Mr. Loseby, on account of his former position in life. Confined Eighteen Months

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1086
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1086. JOSEPH POLLARD (33) , Feloniously marrying Dinah Page, his wife Sarah Baker being then alive; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1087
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1087. JOHN THOMPSON (19) , Unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, the sum of 2s., from Francis Maybury; 4s., 10d., from Matthew Nottingham; 4s., from John Hickling; and 5s., from Alfred George Parr, with intent to defraud; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, October 30th, 1862.



Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1088
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1088. JANE ANDREWS (21) , Stealing 1 watch, the property of George Downing, from his person.

MR. H. PALMIR conducted the Prosecution.

GEORGE DOWNING . I live at 37, Roupell-street, Blackfriars'-road—on 24th October, about 9 o'clock at night, I was walking in Dowgate-hill, and the prisoner met me full-butt—she asked me to treat her—after a short conversation she ran away, and I ran after her, having first missed my witch, which had been in my waistcoat pocket—while running after her I was attempted to be stopped by a man, and I knocked him over, in Thames-street; then another man came up and attacked me, and I pushed him aside—when I came up to the prisoner, I said, "You have stolen my watch"—she gave me the watch, and said, "You let me go"—I said, "No, I will not"—this (produced) is my watch—after she gave it me, she hit me in the face, and knocked my hat off, and while I was stopping to pick it up she got away—she never got out of my sight—she was stopped by a gentleman, at a silversmith's, in Cheapside—the value of my watch is 2l.,—when she returned it, the ring of it was gone altogether—I have got the guard—I am positive the prisoner is the woman.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you never lose sight of her at All? A. No; not even after the watch was given me—there were no people between us after the watch was given.

GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1089
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1089. FREDERICK CRAMER (30) , Maliciously wounding John Jones, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN JONES . I am a fireman, on board the steamer Gladiator—on Saturday night, 4th October, I was in Ratcliff-highway, near the Prince Regent public-house—I was going in there with Callaghan—I saw the prisoner there, with a good many others—just as I got inside the door, I happened to push against one of them—they were in the passage, coming out—the prisoner asked me what I had done that for—I said nothing to him, and he gave me a blow which threw me right over against the rest of the men—then they turned on to me, and some were hammering me with their hands, and the rest kicking me, till I got down under their fect—this

was by the door of the public-house—after I got outside they kicked me again—I got up and ran away, not very far, and then I stopped—they stayed behind at the door—I went on as far as Wellclose-square, and, in about ten minutes, they followed me, and surrounded me before I knew where I was—they prisoner was amongst them—some kicked me again, and some held my hair—I was trying to keep my hair from them, and that was the time that the knife came down on my head—I could not tell who struck me with the knife, for I had my head down—I found three wounds on my head—I could not say exactly how many times I was struck with the knife, because the blows were coming down so quick—I also received a cut on my arm—I am sure the prisoner was present on that occasion—I fell down on the ground, and was insensible—somebody picked me up—there was a policeman there, and I was taken to the station; where I recovered my senses—I saw the prisoner at the station, and recognised him as having seen him in the Prince Regent—I was not quite sober, I had had a little drop; about a couple of glasses; no more—it was about a quarter or half-past 9 in the evening.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Was not this a drunken row? A. I don't know whether they were drunk or not—I could not help pushing against one of them—I was not drunk—I knew what I was about—I did not commence the row—I saw the prisoner just as I went into the Prisoner Regent—that was about a quarter-past 9—that was the only time I was in that passage—the passage was lighted up—I had never seen the prisoner before—I don't know what countryman the man was that I pushed against—I am a Welshman—I never was in London before—I cannot tell the name of the street in which the public-house is; I know it is somewhere in Ratcliff-highway—we may have stopped a little on the way from there to Wellclose-square—it is not a mile from there—I can't say how far it is—I left the public-house by the same way that I had entered it—I am not sure which way I turned when I came out of the public-house—there was a great crowd at the time I was stubbed—I was stabbed, on the top of the head—I had no cap on; I was bare-headed.

MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Did the push you received, as you went into the public-house, drive you against the other men? A. Yes—the other men said nothing to me—they were talking to one another—I could not understand their Language—there were about eight or nine, I suppose—I am sure I had gone some distance before they came up to me the second time.

MICHAEL CALLAGHAN . I am a shoeblack, and live at Windsor-square, Mayfield's-buildings—I was outside the Prince Regent on this evening—the prosecutor knew me, and asked me to have a drop of something to drink, and we went in—he happened to push against some of the Germans, and they said, "What did you do that for?"—they turned round directly and seized his collar, and kicked him outside, and used him as badly as they could—he got away as he best could, and went up to Wellclose-square, which is not above three minutes' walk from the Prince Regent—I went with him—the other men followed him—I saw the prisoner lift up a knife and strike the prosecutor once on the head with it; and I saw another shoeblack do the same thing—I am sure the prisoner is one of the persons who struck him.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to say that you saw the knife in the man's hand? A. Yes, I did—it was between 9 and 10 o'clock; it was dark—there was a crowd, and I was right in the middle of them—I had never seen the prisoner before that night—I have always said that I was certain the prisoner was the man that used the knife—I have not said that

the prosecutor's friends offered me money to come and appear against the prisoner—I never was offered any money to appear against him—they noted to make it up, and the prosecutor would not—I would not take anything from them—(A female, named Ann Hoffman, was here called in)—I believe I have seen that woman before; I know her face—I can take my oath that I did not say to her that I was very sorry about it, but that the prosecutor's friends had offered me a shilling, and if the prisoner's friends would give me two shillings I would not appear against him—we remained in the Prince Regent about four minutes—the prosecutor had nothing to drink—he had a little drop of liquor; I don't know that he was much the worse for it—I know the Black Dog public-house—that is in the second turning past the Prince Regent, on the other side of the road—when we left the Prince Regent we went towards Wellclose-square, which is a contrary direction to the Black Dog; the Prince Regent if between Wellclose-square and the Black Dog.

MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Were you at the Black Dog that evening? A. No—I don't know whether the prosecutor was.

WILLIAM ALLEN . I am a shoemaker, and live at 36, High-street, Shad-well—on Saturday night, 4th October, I was in Wellclose-square—I saw Jones there, and a boy with him; Jones was bending down, and there were about seven or eight of them beating him—I saw the prisoner there amongst them—I saw the prisoner strike him more than once on the back of the head with some kind of instrument—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.

Cross-examined. Q. The first you saw of it was, that the prosecutor was in the midst of a row, and several others pushing him about and beating him? A. Yes—I did not push in amongst the crowd—I stood just inside the public-house door, and looked on—there were a great many persons collected round at the time—it was dark—the light of the public-house stowed me everything—the prisoner's hand was closed, and he had some instrument in it—I could see a kind of a little blade; it was not very long—I swear that I saw that—the prisoner struck him on the head—the man's head was bent down when he was struck—I did not see any more of the prisoner till he came down the lane, and then I recognised him, and the policeman came down and took him in charge—I do not know the neighbourhood; I am a stranger there—I have been working for my master about ten months, in High-street, Shadwell, which is higher up—I don't know where the Black Dog is; I have never heard of it—I never go into that neighbourhood.

MR. O'CONNELL. Q. You say there is a public-house near where we were standing? A. Yes; just where the act was committed—I believe there was a lamp over the door of the public-house, but I could not say—I saw by the light from the windows.

COURT. Q. What o'clock was it? A. Between 9 and 10; about half-past 9.

EDWARD LOVEL PINNER . I am a seaman on board the Gladiator—on Saturday night, 4th October, I was with Jones in Wellclose-square—I had been with him at the Prince Regent in the afternoon—I met him in Ratchff-highway—Callaghan was with him—I accompanied them to Wellclose-square, where I saw the prisoner stab him; another person also attempted to stab him; but I warded off the blow, and took the man away from him—the prisoner stabbed him on the head with some sharp instrument, I could not tell what—blood flowed from the head excessively—the prisoner made three

rapid stabs at him, but I could not tell whether he struck him more than once—I fetched the policeman.

Cross-examined. Q. When a policeman was brought, what was done? A. I believe the constable took the prisoner—I did not point the prisoner out—I was not there when he was taken; I was away after more assistance—there was a great crowd; a number of them were foreigners—the crowd was much greater when I returned—I know the neighbourhood slightly—I know where the Black Dog it; it is a long way, I think, from the Prince Regent—I was told at the Police-court that it was in Denmark-street.

MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Have you ever been at the Black Dog? A. I was in there once—there was nothing done there on this night that I know of—we were not in there at all.

COURT. Q. Can you tell what time it was? A. It was after 9, but I cannot say exactly what time; it was before 10 o'clock, because we were in the station before 10.

JOHN TURNER (Policeman, H 104). I was called by the last witness to the prosecutor, and found him at the bottom of North-east-passage, Well-close-square, bleeding from the head and arm—he had three wounds on the head, and one on the arm two inches long—while we were examining him the prisoner came running down to me calling out, "Policeman, these boys are picking my pockets"—I caught him in my arms as he came—he said that in English, as well as I could understand it—the prosecutor said, "That is the man who did it"—the last witness was not there at that time—I took the prisoner in custody.

Cross-examined. Q. Who pointed the prisoner out to you? A. Callaghan.

COURT. Q. What time was it? A. About half-past 9 when I came up.

Witness for the Defence.

WILLIAM ST. LEGER . I live at 7, Bunhill-row, St. Luke's, and am a dealer in general goods—on the evening of 4th October I was at the Black Dog, Denmark-street, St. George's-in-the-East—I believe I was there the whole afternoon—I saw the prisoner there; it might have been about 8 or half-past when I first saw him there, I won't be positive as to the time—he was not a stranger to me—he was in the parlour with a great number of his own countrymen—he played me one or two games at bagatelle; it was a good deal later than 8 o'clock when he played at bagatelle—as near as I can remember, it was about half-past 9, or it might have been a quarter or twenty minutes to 10 when he left—I did not take particular notice—I know the neighbourhood—the Black Dog is between a quarter and half a mile from the Prince Regent—I have known the prisoner about two months or five weeks, but have never known anything wrong about him.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you always met him in the same place? A. In the Black Dog generally—I have been in the Prince Regent, but have never met him there—I am quite sure it was after the half-hour when he left; I observed that, because I had sent a party out with a message, and was anxiously waiting for him to come back, and that is the reason I looked at the clock—I asked the prisoner at that time to play another game, and he refused and went out—I was watching the clock to see if the party was behind his time coming in—the clock there may have been a little fast.

COURT. Q. Was he with a party of his countrymen there? A. He was, but I do not remember who he went out with—there were people going in and out at the time—he went out with a party composed chiefly of his own countrymen—people were going in and out when he went out—I cannot say whether any of them were acquaintances of his.

CHARLES ALBER . I keep the Block Dog in Denmark-street—on 4th October I saw the prisoner there between 8 and 10 o'clock—I cannot say exactly what time he went away, but it was before 10; I should say it was between half-past 9 and 10—I saw him playing at bagatelle with the last witness—I have known the prisoner in Germany; we went to school together—I have known him the last three years in England, and about twenty years altogether—he generally was a steady man—I never heard of his being addicted to the use of the knife; he never was in bad company—I do not know whether he carried a knife—he is a bread baker.

Cross-examined. Q. Were there a good many people at your house on this Saturday night? A. Not a great number; from about fifteen to twenty—Saturday is the fullest night of the week—there were a great many coming in and out that night between 8 and 10 o'clock.

COURT. Q. Was he with any party? A. There were a great many bakers there at the time, most of whom were his countrymen—they did not go out together; he went away quite by himself; I saw him go—he said, "I will go home and get my supper; maybe I will come back again."

ANNA HOFFMAN . I live at 3, North-east-passage, adjoining Wellclose-square—my husband is a tailor—on 4th October, at the time this happened, I was going out on errand between half-past 9 and 10 o'clock—the prisoner was coming down from Cable-street, and passed me—I did not speak to him; the crowd was too great for us to speak—I had not at that time heard any cries about a man that had been stabbed—I remained at my door, and saw no more of it, because the crowd got too great, and I was glad to stand back—the prisoner came from Cable-street, and the crowd from the Highway from the direction of the Prince Regent—they met together, and he was drawn accidentally into it—I did not see the prisoner that evening after that.

Cross-examined. Q. How far were you from your own door, when you met the prisoner? A. A very short distance; just from No. 3 to No. 4—when he passed me, and the crowd became so great, I went back and stood on my own door-step—that was between half-past 9 and 10, I cannot say exactly, for I have not a clock in my place—I know it was half-past 9, because about seven minutes before that I had been out to see, and it was then just upon half-past, and I had not sat down again when my husband told me to go on this errand—I have known the prisoner some time—I have fetched bread from his master's shop for the last two years.

COURT. Q. Were you before the Magistrate? A. No.

ANTOINETTE SIEDEMANN . I live at Wellclose-square, and go out washing—I am married—I have seen Callaghan before—he said to me, "Missus, I am very sorry about what I have done for your husband; if you give one shilling I was gone, if you give me a couple of shillings I was gone for your husband"—I said, "I will not give you a farthing"—I gave him nothing—he asked me where I lived, and I would not tell him—I said, "When you want to speak to me, go to the Black Dog."

Cross-examined. Q. Are you in the habit of visiting the Black Dog too? A. Yes; not often; I go there sometimes, I get washing there—it will be a fortnight next Saturday since I saw Callaghan; another person was with him, but nobody that I knew; that person has not been here to-day—I don't live with the prisoner—I wash for him.

COURT. Q. Had you known the boy before? A. No—he knew me when I went to the police-office at Arbour-square—I was there when the Prisoner was there—I do not know why he called me the prisoner's wife—

he knew that I washed for him—I have not been acquainted with the prisoner long—there were a good many more females who went to the Police-court.

LOUIS DRUMMERSHAUSEN . I live at 4, North-east-passage, and keep a shop there and at No. 8, New-road—I am a grocer and tobacconist—on the evening of 4th October I was standing outside my door, and saw the prisoner come down from Davy-street—I followed him in the direction of the crowd, and three minutes afterwards he was a prisoner—he was alone when I first saw him; there were three persons behind him coming down the same way—the row was there about a quarter of an hour before the prisoner came up; they hallooed out that there had been a knife used—three minutes after he came down, I saw him struggling with the policeman opposite the railings in Wellclose-square—directly he got among the crowd some persons came up and got him between them—I did not like to go so close, and all at once I saw a struggle opposite by the side of the railing, and the policeman had him—some Englishman said that he took the wrong man—that was when the prisoner was taken in custody—I do not know whether the man who said that is here—I am certain that an Englishman did call that out—I have only known the prisoner by sight before.

Cross-examined. Q. What time was it that you saw the prisoner this night? A. A quarter before ten, I think it was—he was only one door from where this row was going on—he came across because the passage is so narrow—he passed me going towards where the disturbance was—Ship's-alley leads into Wellclose-square.

Q. Supposing a person left Wellclose-square, and went round? A. I don't know how long it would take him to come to where I saw the prisoner—he would have to make a good round; it might take him more than ten minutes.

COURT. Q. Did you see him taken into custody? A. I saw him struggling on the other side of Wellclose-square with a policeman—that was three minutes after I saw him pass me—I did not see him running and pursued by any boys, nor hear him say that they were trying to pick his pockets—I did not distinctly see him come up to the policeman.

COURT to JOHN TURNER. Q. Which way was the prisoner coming when you took him in custody? A. From Cable-street towards Wellclose-square—Cable-street is in the opposite direction to the Prince Regent—there is a passage from the Highway into Cable-street—he could pass the Prince Regent, coming from the Black Dog to where I found him, but he would not come to Cable-street then—I did not particularly notice the time at which I took him, further than that I know it was just upon half-past 9.

(The prisoner received a good character.)


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1090
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1090. CHARLES WILLIAMS (20) and JOHN WILLIAMS (21) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William John Windust, and stealing a box, a till, a drawer, and 11l., 5s., in money, his property.

MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM FLOAT (City-policeman, 228). On the morning of 22d October, about ten minutes to 4, from information I received, I went with Ridger, another officer, to the City Arms public-house, kept by Mr. Windust—I was admitted at the front door by Mr. Windust, and on crossing the bar, I found the door leading from the bar into the passage forced open—I searched in the passage leading to the private door, and found this dark

lantern just inside the door, and in the passage at the bottom of the staircase I found the stock of a centre-bit—I then went into the back yard, where I found this jemmy, and this workbox forced open; I also found this bowl, and the box of the lock belonging to the door which leads into the back yard from the passage—one pennypiece was lying outside the bowl—upon further examination, I found that an entry had been gained by climbing over the wall from the ruins at the back of the house, on to the skylight, which would bring them into the back yard—a pane of glass was cut out of the fanlight of the door leading into the passage, and the door had evidently been forced open—some person had got through the space where the square of glass was cut out, into the passage, and then prised the box off the lock, pulled back the bolts of the door, and then opened the door—the centre-bit had been bored into the post of the water-closet door, which was locked—it had been bored in opposite the lock, and after that the door had been forced open—this centre-bit (produced) was found in a cab—I have compared that with the bore made in the door, and it exactly corresponded—the centre-bit also fits the stock.

Prisoner Charles Williams. Q. Was it the front or side door that Mr. Windust let you in at? A. The front door—I did not say at the Mansion-house that it was the side door.

COURT. Q. This handle would fit a great many other centre-bits as well as this, would it not? A. Yes; but it exactly corresponds with the hole bored in the post.

JAMES WINDUST . I am landlord of the City Arms public-house, at the corner of Victoria-street, Holborn-hill—about half-past 12 o'clock, on the morning of 22d October, I examined my premises—the doors and passages were all safe and locked—in a cupboard in the bar there was 8l., 5s., in copper money, and 2l., in copper at the top of the cupboard, and 9s., loose in this bowl—this workbox was in the bar-parlour—I was called up a little before 4 in the morning by two police-constables ringing my bell—when I same downstairs I found the back yard door open and the bar door open, and all the money gone out of the cupboard—I accompanied the constable into the yard, and was present when they found the workbox, the bowl, and the drawer—the drawer belongs to the cupboard where the coppers were, and the bowl had been on the table—I had made up the parcels of copper myself that night, at half-past 11 o'clock—there was about 2l., worth of copper—I had but one piece of brown paper left, and I used the London and North-Western Railway Guide for September, and wrapped the coppers up in that—the other packages were in brown paper—these (produced) are similar parcels to what I had—I have here the counterpart of the time-table—the brown paper in which these are wrapped, is the same sort as I used to wrap them up in.

Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. (For John William). Q. It is common brown paper, is it not? A. Yes; I often wrap coppers up in the Railway Guides—I have one every month.

Charles Williams. Q. When you were at Guildhall, did you produce three sheets of brown paper? A. Yes; I had not any more brown paper down stairs at the time—there was altogether 10l., 5s., in halfpence in packages, and 9s., loose—I did up 2l., worth of these packages—I swear to five out of these packages.

JOHN SULLIVAN . I am potman to Mr. Windust, and sleep in his house—on the morning of the 22d October, about ten minutes past 12, I locked and bolted the door which leads into the back yard with two iron

bolts—there is a fanlight over the door with glass in it—that was all right at that time, and not broken.

Charles Williams. Q. Were you sober that night? A. Yes.

JOHN NICHOLLS . I live at 4, Bishop's-court, Old Bailey, and am a cab-driver—on the morning of 22d October, about 4 o'clock, my cab was on the rank in Smithfield—I was in a coffee-house at Smithfield-bars—the prisoner, Charles Williams, called me out, and said he wanted me to drive him and two others to Windmill-street, Haymarket—when I got out I saw two other men, one of whom I believe to be John Williams—one of them got in at the other side of the cab, the other one had got in before—I shut the door, and as I was turning the cab, the policeman Sparkes came up and spoke to me—as I was going towards the station-house, one of the men opened the door on one side of the cab, and made his escape in the direction of Long-lane—the other opened the other door, and escaped towards Skinner-street, Snow-hill—Charles Williams was about to follow his example, but I jumped off the box, and, with the assistance of Sparkes, secured him—I did not examine the cab, but I told the constable to do so—I did not see any centre-bit in my cab—there was one produced at the station—there was no centre-bit, to my knowledge, in the cab when I last examined it.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose your cab had been let to other parties that day? A. Yes; I would not swear that John Williams was the party that was in my cab.

Charles Williams. Q. Will you swear that any of us were in the cab? A. Yes; I can swear you were there.

WILLIAM BROWN SPARKES (City-policeman, 207). On the morning of 22d October, at a quarter to 4 o'clock, I was on duty in Sharp's-alley, West-street, Smithfield—I saw the two prisoners coming out of St. John's-court into West-street, and a third man following them—I followed them into Smithfield, where they hired a cab—I heard the cab door slam, and I hastened up to it—the cabman had just started, and was going in the direction of the Haymarket—I said something to him, after which he went towards the station, which was the contrary direction to the Haymarket—as we were going along, the man not in custody escaped out at the cab door on the opposite side to me—I jumped down, and collared Charles Williams, who was coining out, and while I was securing him, John Williams made his escape out at the other side, and went in the direction of Snow-hill—I took Charles Williams into custody, and took him to the station, where I searched him, and found on him these eleven or twelve packages of coppers, each containing 5s., and 8s., in copper loose—I searched the cab, and found a centre-bit lying on the cushion—I did not charge him with anything—when I opened the cab door I turned my light on, and they said, "What's the matter?"—I said, "I am not aware that there is anything the matter; where are you going to?"—they said they were going home—I asked them where they were going—they said that was their business—at last they told me they were going to Windmill-street, Haymarket—I said it looked very strange that they should come up from the direction of Holborn to go to the Haymarket—they said they came there to hire a cab—when I first saw them they were about 150 or 200 yards from Mr. Windust's house.

Cross-examined. Q. When they first got into the cab you did not see their faces at all? A. I saw the faces of the two prisoners when they got in—I swear to John Williams—I did not know him by sight previously—all these packages were found on Charles Williams.

Charles Williams. Q. St. John's-court does not lead from Holborn? A. No; it leads out of King-street, Snow-hill—the station sergeant found some paper, and wrapped up some of the coppers in these packages—they are now in the same paper that they were in at Guildhall.

ALFRED AUGUSTINE WING (Policeman, G 247). I was on duty at about two or three minutes to 4 o'clock, on the morning of 22d October last, in Charterhouse-square—I heard some footsteps in the opposite direction to where I was standing—I listened, and saw the prisoner John Williams against the gate leading into Carthusian-street—I asked him where he was going—he said he was going home—I observed the bulky appearance of his right-hand coat-pocket, and asked him what he had there—he said he had nothing there which concerned me; that it was his own property—not feeling satisfied with that, I walked with him through the square into Charterhouse-lane, questioning him, as I was going along as, to where he lived—he refused to give his name and address—when I got into Charter-house-lane, I saw him put his hand into his pocket—I said, "I must see what you have there"—he then immediately ran away—I pursued him down Charterhouse-lane into Cross-street, where he threw away something which sounded like copper money—he turned up Peter's-lane, and then into St. John's-lane, at both of which places he threw away something which sounded like money, and also in Eagle-court—during the pursuit I called "Stop thief!" and sprang my rattle—when he turned out of Eagle-court he was pursued by 141 G down Albion-place, and was caught just before he got into Passing-alley—we then took him to Bagnigge-wells station—he was asked by the inspector where he lived, but refused to give his address; he gave his name as John Williams—I searched him there, and found in each trousers pocket a package containing 5s., in copper money, done up in brown paper, and 17s., 3 3/4 d., in copper money, loose in his coat and waistcoat pockets, also sixteen threepenny-pieces in his waistcoat-pocket, and some silent lucifer matches—after the charge had been given, I went back over the ground over which I had followed him—I found 2s., 5d., in copper money; I found that in the streets we had run through.

Cross-examined. Q. What time was it when you saw John Williams folding in the street? A. About two or three minutes before the clock struck 4—it was dark, but there were lamps in the square—where I took him in custody was about 150 yards, I should think, from the place where I first saw him—only the packages in brown paper were found on him.

HENRY WARLINGTON (Policeman, G 141). I was on duty about 4 o'clock on the morning of 22d October last, in Cowcross-street—in consequence of hearing a rattle, I ran up White Horse-alley into Benjamin-street, and saw John Williams running out of Eagle-court; he turned up Albion-place—I followed him, and saw him drop three lots of halfpence on to the iron gratings in front of the houses—I ran after him as far as Passing-alley, where I caught him, and took him to the Bagnigge-wells-road station—I accompanied Wing when he went to look for coppers.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you with him when he picked the packets up A. No—I was with him when he found the 2s., 5d., in loose money on the ground.

RICHARD FAITHORN (Policeman, G 158). I was on duty about 4 o'clock on the morning of 22d October, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!" in Cow-cross—I followed the cry, and, in doing so, my foot came against a packet of money in Peter's-lane—I went back to where my foot had kicked against

it, and found this packet of money wrapped in tissue paper, and other money lying loose about.

WILLIAM TAYLOR (Policeman, G 210). I was on duty on the morning of 22d October, about 4 o'clock, and saw John Williams come out of Eagle-court and turn up Albion-place—he was followed by Warrington—I ran through St. John's-square-passage into St. John's-lane, and found him in Warrington's custody—I went to Albion-place, but could not find any money; I then went into St. John's-lane, where I picked up two brown paper packages containing some coppers, and there were a great many lying on the ground—this (produced) is the brown paper—there were very few coppers in the papers, but a great many lying on the ground—I then went into Peter's-lane, where I picked up another brown paper, nearly empty—there were a good many coppers lying on the ground there—I returned again to Albion-place, where I found a great number of coppers had been dropped through gratings into kitchen areas—I got 21s., 1d., altogether in coppers.

HERBERT PARKER (City-policeman, 248). I was on duty in Victoria-street, about 2 o'clock in the morning on 22d October, and saw John William in the ruins there—I asked him what he was doing down there, and he said he went down there for convenience—I said that he had better come out of there, and with that he walked away—he had on the red comforter which he is wearing now; that was all I could see of his clothes.

THOMAS WEBB (City-policeman, 205). I was on duty in Holborn on the night of 21st October, and saw Charles Williams standing at the corner of King's Head-court, about half-past 11 o'clock—I followed him down to the corner of Shoe-lane, in the direction of Farringdon-street

Charles Williams. Q. When you first saw me, was my back to you? A. You were standing face to me, along with a prostitute—I did not know you previously—when I followed you I was going the way I work my beat—I did not follow you thinking you were there for illegal purposes—you had on just about the same things that you hate now.

Charles Williams. At Guildhall, a man was called, who said he saw the three prisoners come out of the public-house where the robbery was committed, and proceed up Victoria-street He is not brought forward now, because he could not identify us. Sparkes said he first saw us in St. John's-court, which is in an opposite direction to Victoria-street, so we could not have been coming from Mr. Windust's house. I think it is very hard that the man is not here to-day.

JOSEPH BURROWS . I saw three men come out of Mr. Windust's door, and proceed up Victoria-street, at twenty minutes to 4—I was going to work, and I saw the side door open and suddenly shut—that made me turn round, and they went up Victoria-street—I could not tell at all who they were—I gave information directly to the police.

Charles Williams' Defence. Mr. Windust attempts to swear to five out of the eight packages. If you look at one of them, you will find that neither of them correspond with the time table. Those packages which were done up in paper by the police-sergeant, were done up to show that they were found on me, and they swore at Guildhall that they were found on me. As to the centre-bits, if any of the Jury are mechanics, they will know that nine centre-bits out of ten will fit any stock.

GUILTY .—John Williams was further charged with having been before convicted of felony on 23rd September, by the name of John Evans; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.

CHARLES WILLIAMS.*— Four Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1091
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1091. THOMAS HALL (25) , Feloniously and maliciously wounding a cow, the property of Stephen George Bouron.

MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.

STEPHEN GEORGE BOURON . I am a cow-keeper, residing at John-street, Edgeware-road—the prisoner was in my employment—he used to attend to the cows, and a horse or two; he was an odd man about the yard—I had given him notice to leave, a day or two previous to this happening, as he had been very careless in cleaning a set of harness—the day before he was to leave I was at dinner, about a quarter-past 1, and the cowman came and said something to me—I then went into the shed—I noticed that the cow was forward in the stall, lying down—I thought it wanted room to get up—I told the man to untie the chain, and then she could not get up—the hamstring was cut above the hock—we were obliged to have her killed—she was a milch cow; a poor cow, worth about 9l., or 10l.,

Cross-examined by MR. LAXTON. I suppose there are other men in your employment? A. Yes; I have a carter—he was out with a team all day—I have also a man who assists in the yard with the prisoner—the cow had not been ailing; it was in good health, and had nothing the matter with it—it could not have slipped down; there was plenty of room behind it—I could not find any sharp instrument—I looke about, but did not see anything—the prisoner had been in my employment about three months—during that time he bore a very good character; I had no fault to find with him—I had a very good character with him, and he was a very good man to work.

COURT. Q. Was it a sort of wound that could have been inflicted by an accident? A. No; it was done by some sharp instrument—the hamstring was completely cut—the prisoner was the last man on the premises.

GEORGE KERR . I am in Mr. Bouron's employ, and was so on the day this occurred—I came up that morning to the yard about half-past 3, and remained there till 7—I then left to go to breakfast, and came back about 8—I remained till twenty minutes to 12, and then left—I saw the cow at twenty minutes to 12, and she then had nothing the matter with her—I went to dinner, and returned at twenty minutes to I—when I came back I saw the cow lying on her right side—I went up to her; she got up on her front legs, and blundered on to the top of the manger—I went and called my master, and then came back again—I did not see that she was injured until he came to get her up; then I saw she was cut above the hock with some sharp instrument—she was afterwards killed—the prisoner said, on the 10th, the day before, that he would do the matter an injury before he went away.

Cross-examined. Q. You say when you went out at twenty minutes to 12 there was nothing the matter with the cow? A. Yes—I am quite sure of that—it could not have occurred from the cow lying down on some sharp instrument; there was no instrument there—I am quite sure it must have been cut with a knife or some sharp instrument—this occurred on the 11th—I am quite sure that the prisoner said on the 10th that he would do his master an injury before he went away—we were then at work together feeding the cows—we were not talking about anything at the time; only about feeding—I did not say anything about the cow being ill and having a sore place behind—we were talking about feeding the cows and the cattle—it was the business of both of us to be in the shed feeding the cattle—it was between 2 and 3 o'clock—we both fed the cattle—there was only one man in the employment of the prosecutor at that time besides us two.

COURT. Q. When you went away at twenty minutes to 12 who did you leave there? A. The prisoner—I did not find him there when I came back.

GEORGE BRUCE . I am a commissioned slaughterman—I was ordered to send my conveyance to fetch the carcase of this cow, and I did so—it was killed at Mr. Bouron's place, and then brought to mine—the hind leg was cut with some sharp instrument, and the hamstring was divided—that was not an injury which the cow would recover from—it let her leg down.

Cross-examined. Q. Must that have been done with a knife? A. I cannot say; it must have been done with some very sharp instrument.

FREDERICK MILLS (Policeman, D 232). I took the prisoner in custody, and told him he was charged with cutting the cow—he said he did not know anything about it.

GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, October 30th, 1862.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1092
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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1092. WILLIAM HENRY SHEARMAN (28), was indicted for unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences.

MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.

BENJAMIN PHILLIPS . I am an outfitter, at 8, Wells-street, Wellclose-square—it is the custom when vessels come in for my agents to carry my cards on board—on 4th October, between 8 and half-past in the evening, the prisoner came into my shop, and I heard him ask my young man to lend him 5s.,—I then asked the prisoner what ship he belonged to—he said the ship Maria—I asked him where the ship was from—he said, "Rangoon," and that it was lying in the West India Docks—I asked him how long he had been on board, and he said, "Fourteen months"—I asked in what capacity, and he told me, "Steward"—I asked him how much he had a month, and he told me 4l., or 4l., 10s., I would not be sure which—I then said, "If your statement is true, I will lend you 5s." but previous to that I had Lloyds' list sent for, and I found there was such a ship just arrived, and the captain's name was as he stated—on that I let him have 5s.,—he came to my shop again next morning, which, I believe, was Sunday, and said he wanted some clothing—I questioned him about his wages, whether the statement that he made last evening was correct, and he told me the amount of his wages would be 40l., balance, due to him—I asked him if he was sure of that—be said, "Yes"—he then selected a coat. a waistcoat, a pair of trousers, three shirts, a pair of Wellington boots, a silk handkerchief, and a hat, and also asked for a sovereign in money—I gave it to him—it was on his statement that I let him have those things—I asked him again if it was correct, and he said, "Yes; I have told you I have got 40l., due to me," and he also wanted to buy a watch and chain of me—he left the shop with the goods, and in about a quarter of an hour, or 20 minutes, he came back, and asked me to let him have another sovereign,—I said, "I could not before 1 o'clock, when I would change a five-pound note—he said he had got a pair of patent leather boots on, which he had bought from a sailor at the Home, for 18s., and he had got no more money—I afterwards sent down to the ship and found that he had only come from Queenstown—I afterwards went to a shop in Poplar, kept by a Mr. Richardson, and there I found my

Wellington boots which I had supplied to the prisoner—I afterwards gave him in charge—I made no promise to him; I only told him that he had falsely represented himself to me, and that I should give him in custody—he said, "You have no occasion to do that, I will give you the things back"—he said he was very sorry—the value of the things he had altogether was 7l., 9s.,

Prisoner. Q. Did I come into your shop, or was I fetched in? A. You came in—you were not drinking all Sunday in my shop, you were perfectly sober at the time—you were not away twenty minutes before you came back with all my clothes on, and the pair of patent leather boots which you said you bought of Mr. Richardson.

EDWARD TIERNEY . I am a seaman belonging to the ship Maria, lying in the West India Docks—I know the prisoner—I was living in the shipping office, at Queenstown, three weeks before I appeared at the police-court—I remember the prisoner signing articles from Queenstown to London—the run was from Queenstown to London—I signed too—he was to have 3l., 10s., wages—he received 1l., 10s., in advance—he had been living at Queenstown at the Home about a fortnight—thirty shillings was due to him.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see me sign articles? A. Yes; I signed articles too for one shilling a day wages.

PORTER WILLIAM DUNNAWAY (Policeman, H 129). I received the prisoner at the police-station, Leman-street—on the way from the station to the Magistrate, he said, "If that Jew says that I said I had been in the ship fourteen months, he will perjure himself"—at the Thames Police-court, in the waiting-room, a man of the name of Sutton came and said to the prisoner, "You have obtained some shirts from me," and the prisoner said, "I know I have; but you need not appear against me; I will make that all right at the Sailors' Home.

SAMUEL CHIVERS . I am assistant to Mr. Henry Richardson and Charles Scott, 1 and 2, West India Dock-road, Poplar—on Saturday morning, 4th October, I went on board the ship Maria, in the West India Docks—I saw the prisoner on board, spoke to him, gave him one of my master's cards, and asked him for his favours—he afterwards came to the shop—he said he had come up according to his promise, and wished to look at some things—he looked out trousers, waistcoat, coat, a hat, four handkerchiefs, a pair of braces, and a pair of boots—he asked me if I would lend him any cash, and I gave him a pound—we asked him how long he had been in the ship—he said he had been fourteen months in the ship as a steward—he said the ship came from Rangoon—in consequence of that statement we let him have the things, from our belief in that statement—I went up to the Sailors' Home with him, saw him take his berth, and left the things there—on the Monday following, from information I received, I went on board the ship again—I saw the prisoner there, and told him that he had only come from Queens-town, and that he had better give me my things back—he said he would pay me—I said, "You can't do that"—I went up to the Sailors' Home with him, and he gave me the things back, except the pound in cash—he also gave me a pair of patent leather boots, which I found afterwards Mr. Phillips claimed—he said he would come and pay me a sovereign for those boots when he got the money.

Prisoner. Q. Did you not tell me on board that you would give me anything you had in the shop if I would only come there? A. No; I did not.

JAMES SUTTON . I am assistant to Mr. Thomas Hatchett, of 3, Coal-street, Limehouse—the prisoner came into our shop on 4th October, and said he

came according to his promise, as he always kept his promises—he said he was steward in the Maria, and had been fourteen months in the ship—I had seen him on board in the morning, when I delivered my master's card to him—he had two white shirts, two silk handkerchiefs, and 10s., in cash, and I measured him for a satin waistcoat—he took the things away himself—he said he was going to the Sailors' Home—I let him have the things, expecting that he had been fourteen months, as he said—he did not say what wages he had to receive—we know pretty well the wages they ought to have—I afterwards saw him in the waiting-room of the court in custody.

Prisoner's Defence. I am an American, and a stranger here; I never was in England before. The money that was on me was taken from me, so that I could not employ counsel; they came on board the ship and asked me to come to their stores, and they would give me anything I wished.

GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his being a foreigner, and having the goods almost forced upon him.

Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1093
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1093. HENRY HARDY (36) , Feloniously forging and uttering on order for the payment of 100l., with intent to defraud.

MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.

CHARLES TURNER . I am one of the cashiers at Messrs. Coutts'—on 14th October, about 12 o'clock in the day, the prisoner presented himself at my desk—I asked him what his business was—he said, "I want to draw some money"—I did not know him, and I said, "Have you an account with us?"—he said, "I have"—I then handed him one of our blank cheques—he filled it up in my presence—this is it (read) "London, 14th October, 1862, Messrs. Coutts and Co. pay to George Jordan, or bearer, 100l., Henry Hardy"—he then handed it to me written—I examined the signature—I did not know it or the name, so I went for reference, first to the ledger and then to the signature book—I then went back to him, and said, "Do you draw this on your own account, or have you any authority to draw in any other person's?"—his reply was, "Oh, if it is not here, it is at Herries'"—I communicated with the principals of the firm, and the officer Hanscomb was ordered to take him into custody—we have no customer named Henry Hardy.

Cross-examined by MR. LAXTON. Q. This was in the middle of the day? A. Yes; I did not notice anything eccentric in his manner till I came back and asked him the last question—I then noticed a peculiarity—it struck me then he might have been drinking some hours before; perhaps over night—he looked peculiar.

THOMAS HANSCOMB (Policeman, F 102). I am on permanent duty at Messrs. Coutts'—I was directed to take the prisoner into custody—I asked him if he had any account to give respecting this cheque—he said he could not say more than he had already said to the gentleman—I was then going to take him in custody and he said, "It is all through Mr. Whithall, who had the paying of some legacies left to me and others, by my uncle, and they were deposited at Messrs. Coutts' bank"—I took him to the police-station, left him there, and went to his lodgings—when I returned, I found that the inspector had taken off this wig from him (produced)—I asked the prisoner what was the cause of his wearing a wig—he said, "Well; I did not want to be known by everybody, and if I had succeeded in getting the money, I intended to go abroad."

Cross-examined. Q. He is an actor, is he not? A. Yes; he is—this is not a theatrical wig—I do not know that it is the one he wore two or three

nights before in the character of Iago—I found two or three other wigs at his lodgings—there were no theatrical dresses besides—nothing was there scarcely—I noticed him quoting a piece of Othello at the station-house—he said he could go through it very well—he did not go on quoting—he was quiet after that—I did not see him when he came to the station-house—he appeared to me as if he had been drinking something previously—he certainly looked to me to be labouring under delirium tremens,—he said before the Magistrates that his name was Hardy, Harold, or Drysdale, or whatever you like.

MR. SLEIGH. Q. Was he what you call drunk, or anything of that kind? A. He was not drunk, but he looked like a man who had been drinking overnight—he knew what he was about—he took a cab from St. Clement's Church to the Bank.

MR. LAXTON called

THOMAS STEWART . I am an actor, and have been so between thirty and forty years—I have known the prisoner for the last sixteen years—his name is Henry Hardy Drysdale—he is an actor, and has been so, I should say, for about thirteen or fourteen years—he has been acting at almost every principal theatre in the provinces, and two engagements in London, one at the Surrey, and one at Sadlers' Wells—he has been taking the lead at the theatres, and has been a most prominent actor—my opinion of his honesty of conduct is the very highest in the world—this wig is decidedly a theatrical wig—they are thicker and heavier than wigs which are ordinarily worn—they are made for dressing, and so on—the prisoner was performing on the Saturday previous to 14th October—I cannot say whether he performed in this wig—he must have been performing in one something like it, for the character which he represented—he represented Iago—I was informed by some friends of mine, on the Saturday, that he had been drinking to extreme—I know that he had just recovered from a severe illness—he had a sort of gastric affection, or diarrhoea—he was prostrate for days and days—it put him in great danger—he had recovered from that about a fortnight or three weeks, I should think—I know nothing about Mr. Whithall, or the payment of any legacies—I did not see him drinking after his illness—I observed some very great peculiarities in his manner after his recovery from this illness—I have imagined sometimes that his mind has not been all correct, and that I fancied arose from drink, not from real insanity.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. That may be a very good theatrical wig, but also a pretty good wig for disguise? A. Yes; any wig would be a wig for disguise—if I were to put on your wig, I should be disguised—I should not wear a wig to go into Coutts'.

WILLIAM SOUTTAN . I am a clerk in Newgate-market, and am cousin to the prisoner—I witnessed his performance of Iago at the Bijou Theatre in the Haymarket, on Saturday night, at her Majesty's Concert Room—his state was very peculiar; indeed, I am almost certain he was in a state of intoxication when he was performing—I saw him afterwards—I called at the Nell Gwynne as I went along, and saw him there drinking—that is where a good many actors go—I knew that he was suffering from this gastric fever—I visited him while he was suffering from it—he recovered from that about three weeks before 14th October—he seemed to me after that, when I saw him, which was about twice a week, to have been drinking rather freely—his manner was very strange and incoherent, talking all manner of nonsense, which I could not understand or anybody else—I have known him from infancy—I give him the very best of characters for honesty and upright conduct—I never knew him to commit a dishonest act in his life.

Cross-examined. Q. You witnessed his Saturday performance, and you say he was the worse for liquor? A. Yes; I believe he was.

COURT. Q. Do you know anything about a Mr. Whithall? A. I know, some time ago, he had some money from Mr. Whithall, a solicitor, in parliament-street—there was a legacy due to him which, after some difficulty, he obtained—I am not aware of anything else.

MR. SLEIGH. Q. That business with Mr. Whithall was over some time ago? A. Yes; eighteen months—I did not see him after Saturday—he has been in very low circumstances lately.


Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutor.— Judgment Respited.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1094
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1094. RICHARD COTTER (50) , Unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, 6l., 13s., 4d., the property or George Seymour and others, with intent to defraud.

MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.

JOSEPH CHARLESWORTH AUCKLAND . I am clerk to George Seymour and others, shipbrokers, at 116, Fenchurch-street—they were the agents for the barque Ambrosine—the prisoner came to us on 13th October, and presented this order—I do not think he handed it to me—he brought it to the office—he handed it to one of the clerks at the counter, and it was brought to me at the further end of the office—I paid him the money on the presentation of this order—nothing passed at all—it was for 6l., 13s., 4d.,—when I paid him, he signed his name Richard Cotter, at the bottom, I believe—(Read: "October 13th, 1862, Richard Cotter to Captain Locke, master of the barque Ambrosine, lying at the south side of the West India Export Dock, for putting on board two hundred tons of chalk at 8d., per ton; 6l., 13s., 4d. Signed, Captain Lock; to Messrs. Seymour and Peacock, 116, Fenchurch-street")—there is also a receipt-stamp with the name of the prisoner across it.

Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Had you known him before? A. I might have seen him before—they call the men who load the boats, ballast heavers, or something of that kind—it appeared on this order as if so much money was due to him—he did not do the work.

ANSELM JOHN GRIFFITHS . I am clerk to Wallace and Edwards, 9, George-yard, shipbrokers—we employed Daniel Buckley to load the Ambrosine with ballast—we were not shipbrokers for the Ambrosine—we merely sold the chalk to Messrs. Seymour, Peacock, and Co. and we sent Buckley down to load it—I never saw the prisoner before, till the other day at the Mansion House—he had no authority whatever from us to go to Seymour, Peacock, and Co. to receive money—we never knew anything about it.

Cross-examined. Q. Buckley is the man you employed? A. Yes—whether Buckley hired the prisoner to do the work, I do not know—we received positive instructions from Seymour Peacock and Co. to send out stevedore down.

DANIEL BUCKLEY . I am a stevedore, living at Brown Bear-alley—I was employed to load the Ambrosine with chalk ballast, on 7th October, by the last witness—I employed the prisoner and six others to put the chalk aboard, and paid them—I gave the prisoner my gear to go down and work—I paid him 14s., for his share—I did not authorize him to go to Seymour and Co. to get payment for the loading of that ballast—I received 5l., 16s., 8d., from Mr. Griffiths, at Messrs. Wallace and Edwards.

Cross-examined. Q. Had not the prisoner told you that you charged too much, and when he went down and said he came from Buckley, they would not have you, and when he said he would do it cheap, they had him, and would not have you; has not he disputed that account with you? A.

Never—this is the first time I have heard of it—I have paid him all his wages, and the six others—I paid every man, in person, on Wednesday night—I sent the prisoner down between half-past 10 and 11 to put the chalk on board—he came in between 6 and 7 in the evening and told me he had done twenty tons—I then gave him two shillings, and another man, named Sullivan—the next day, I gave them five shillings each—I first heard of his getting this 6l., 13s., 4d., from Messrs. Seymour on 15th October—he did not come to me and say that he had got this money, and that he would now pay me what I had lent him—I have known him about fourteen or fifteen years—he works for any one who employs him.

JAMES TWOTING . I am a labourer, living in Victoria-street, Shad well—I was employed by Buckley to load the barque Ambrosine with chalk—the prisoner was employed along with me—I saw him paid three shillings on the second night—I was not there the first night—I saw him again on the Saturday night, waiting there to be paid.

Cross-examined. Q. You say you saw him paid part of it? A. Yes—he could not take it all at once because it was not earned.

HENRY DANIELS (Policeman, 356 K). I took the prisoner into custody on the 17th, and told him he was wanted for defrauding The Broker's Company—he came to me and said, "Officer, did you see anybody inquiring for me that night?"—I said, "Is your name Richard Cotter?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I don't think you are the man"—he said, "Yes, I am"—he came and gave himself up—he said he had had the money, and be would tell the truth—he said he had received the money twice.

Cross-examined. Q. Did he not say he meant to pay it over to Mr. Buckley? A. No.

COURT to J. C. AUCKLAND. Q. Do you know Captain Locke's writing? A. Yes—this is his signature on the order.

GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1095
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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1095. ESTHER BAYS (29), ELIZA TOWNSEND (33), PETER PAUL (30), PATRICK DAY (22), and JAMES SMITH (32) , Unlawfully conspiring to cheat and defraud Reuben Clarke, and others.

MR. KEMP conducted the Prosecution.

REUBEN CLARKE . I am a bootmaker, at Winterslow, near Salisbury—on 19th August, last, my attention was attracted to this advertisement (This was headed "Money, money, money:" offering to advance sums at a low rate of interest, and directing application to be made to R H. Twining, 23, Richard-street, London, E.)—I wrote to the address given there, and received this reply (produced), inclosing a printed paper of questions—I filled it up and returned it, addressed to R. H. Twining, with five shillings' worth of postage-stamps, as requested—two days afterwards I received this communication, acknowledging the receipt—on 21st August I received this letter, marked "Private and confidential"—there was a promissory note inside it—I returned that promissory note, and sent a post-office order for 3l., 15s., 6d.,—I afterwards received this letter, marked "D," inclosing my signature and part of the promissory note, which I had sent up to Twining and Co.—Mr. Twining did not present himself to me, or even call upon me—in consequence of that, I wrote another letter to Twining, and received this one in reply, from which I cut the heading and sent it to the Commissioners of Police—I do not remember the date at which I received it—I received it in reply to the one I had sent them—I received this letter, marked "E," about the latter end of August (read: "Deter Sir—In reply to your's, this

morning, I beg to inform you that the principal, Mr. Twining, is out of town, therefore it is impossible for me to enter into your little matter; I shall forward your note to him by to-night's post, and, no doubt you will hear satisfactorily. For R. H. Twining. A.M.")—I then wrote again, and received this letter marked "F" (read: "23, Richard street, London, E; September 13th, 1862. Dear Sir—In reply to your favour of this morning, I beg to inform you that Mr. Twining, junior, is still very ill, and it will be some days before he can get out; your name is the first on his list, and will have attention immediately he is able to get out; Mr. Twining, senior, is out of town, but I will forward your communication to him by this post For R. H. Twining. J. C. D.")—I afterwards wrote to the Commissioners of Police, Whitehall, and came up to town about two days after 13th September—I went to Scotland-yard first, and then to Richard-street—I west there alone—I had no difficulty in finding the premises—I found the door ajar, and I saw a placard in the window; "Mangling done here"—I pushed the door open, went in, and saw the prisoner Bays—I said, "Is this where Mr. Twining lives?"—she said, "No"—I asked her if she knew Mr. Twining personally—she said, "No"—I said, "This is where his letters are directed, is it not?"—she said it was—I asked her who he was, and she said he was a commercial traveller—I said, "How is it his letters come to be left here, if you don't know him personally?"—she said, "I have done washing for him, and he asked me if I would allow his letters to be left here while he was in the country"—I said, "How does he get his letters?"—she replied, "He sends for them"—I said, "Perhaps you may hear further of this—she said, "Very well;" and I came away—it was a small cottage—I only went into one room—there was a mangle, or part of one—it was very poorly furnished—I have not received either my money back or the loan—having communicated with the police again, I returned to the country, and sent up to Twining and Co., in the name of John Brown, from Patton, near Salisbury, asking for a loan of 50l.,—I received this answer, marked "G"—it is in a similar form to the one I had received before in my own name—it was accompanied with a series of questions, after the same manner as the first one—I filled up the form and returned it, inclosing five shillings'-worth of stamps—I posted it myself, on 25th September—I afterwards received this communication, marked "H," which inclosed a promissory note—I returned the promissory note, addressed to R. H. Twining, 23, Richard-street, E., and sent a post-office order, payable at the Strand money-order office—they asked for 1l., 18s., in that letter, the interest of the amount for six months—I sent 1l., 10s.,—the post-office order was made payable to Samuel Gilbert—that was sent from Winterslow—the envelope was sent to me all ready directed and stamped—I put "J. Brown" on the left-hand corner—I received some further communication from the police, and came up to London to give evidence at the examination.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. (For Bays, Day, and Paul). Q. Was there any appearance of an office there? A. No, except for washing and mangling—there was no appearance of desks.

JAMES STRICKLAND . I live at Wimborne, in Dorsetshire—I have a paper here—I saw this advertisement in it (Read: "Money, important notice, 20l., to 500l., immediately advanced at a low rate of interest for long and short periods, every facility afforded; this being a strictly bona fide announcement, all classes are invited to apply to Mr. R.H. Twining, of 23, Richard-street, London, E.")—I applied in perfect confidence to Mr. R.H. Twining for a loan of 200l.,—I received this reply (Read. "23, Richard-street,

London, September 10, 1862. Private and confidential. Dear Sir,—In compliance with your application, I beg to hand the accompanying prospectus, and should the terms meet your approval, on making known your requirements I shall be happy to give immediate attention to the same, for R. H. Twining, C. B.")—I sent fire shillings' worth of postage-stamps, and direct the letter to "R. H. Twining, 23, Richard-street"—shortly after that I received this other letter—I gave references—I received a promissory note with that letter, which I returned signed—I sent up two post-office orders for 12l. 2s., together—I believe one was for 10l., and the other for two guineas—I did not receive the money—a short time afterwards I received hack a portion of my promissory note with my signature on the top, in this letter (Read: "Richard-street, London. My dear Sir,—Your signature to the promissory note has been objected to by the solicitor because it has not been witnessed. I beg leave to say that my son will wait on you, and conclude the transaction out of hand. Yours truly, for R. H. Twining, J. C. D."—I wrote a letter in reply to that, but did not receive any further communication—I came to town on the Monday, and went to 23, Richard-street—I saw a woman there—I do not know whether it was the prisoner Bays.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Did you discover that there was mangling done there? A. No—I did not look in the window.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. (For Smith). Q. Have you ever applied for a loan before? A. No—they did not say that they wanted a witness to the signature of the promissory note, or I could have got plenty of witnesses.

SAMUEL COURT . I am manager of the Lombard-street Money Order Office—I produce two orders remitted by James Strickland, payable to Samuel Gilbert; they were presented by the prisoner Smith on 25th September—I knew him by sight before—he received from me the amount of the orders, 10l., on one, and 2l., 2s., on the other—they were signed when he tendered them (read)—the name James Strickland was on the orders when he presented them—I had paid Smith orders before at our office, in other names—I remember the name of Lindsay very well—I asked him no questions.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. There is a large business done there, is there not? A. The issue of orders is very great, but not the payment of them—sometimes we are busy and sometimes slack—I do not remember the faces of other persons I paid orders to on that day—we sometimes call out the name of the employer, and the clerk answers it, and it is generally the custom to put the name of the payee on the post-office order.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. You have not seen the other prisoners at your office, have you? A. I don't remember seeing any except Smith.

MR. KEMP. Q. Did you go to the Police-court to identify Smith? A. Yes; I knew him directly—I picked him out—I am quite sure he is the man—when I first saw him he came out from the cells into the dock, and I immediately recognised him as he came out—I made some remark to the policeman about his eyebrows.

WILLIAM GROVE . I am a clerk at the Strand Money Order Office—I produce a money order for the sum of 1l., 10s., and the advice (read)—that was paid to the prisoner Smith—I did not see him sign his name—the order was presented by him signed, Samuel Gilbert—I merely called out the name of Gilbert, and Smith answered to it, and I paid him the money—he at the same time presented me another order for 3l., 0s., 6d., signed by

Samuel Gilbert, from Cornwall—I did not pay that; the policeman was there at the time, and I saw him taken into custody.

HENRY LEAKE . I am manager of the Whitechapel post-office—on 22d August this post-office order for 3l., 15s., 6d., was presented to me, I cannot gay by whom.

REUBEN CLARKE (re-examined). This is the post-office order I sent—I sent an order for 3l., 15s., 6d.,—I did not take any account of the number of the order—I sent an order for that amount, and only one. (The order being read was signed R. H. Twining).

MR. COLLINS to HENRY LEAKE. Q. Have you ever seen the prisoners at your office? A. I believe I have seen the whole of them; I cannot say that I have paid them money; my department is the post-office and receiving office.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Can you fix any day when you saw any of the prisoners there? A. No—I speak positively as to the women—I can't speak to the time—we do a good deal of business; a good many women come there—I don't swear to them, but their faces are familiar to me.

JOHN ROOMS MORRIS . I am a clerk in the eastern division of the Post-office; it includes Richard-street—on 27th August this post-office order for 3l. 8s., was presented to me by the prisoner Paul—(This being read was signed R. H. Twining)—the order was filled up at the time it was brought to me—I asked Paul what his name was, and he said, "R. H. Twining"—I can't say whether I had seen him before—I think I have seen the whole of then—I can't say that I paid orders to them; I have no proof of it.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. You see an immense number of people at your office) A. Yes—I don't undertake to swear that I can identify all these persons as having been there—Twining is the payee of the order—I next saw Paul in custody—I was not told that I was going to see a man who had been at my place—I was told it was to give evidence against a person whose name I had asked, and who told me it was R. H. Twining—I was asked in the Court if I could recognise R. H. Twining, and I pointed to Paul at once—the name of R. H. Twining coming so often attracted my attention—I had so many inquiries for him; I once made a signal to a person outside, who recognised Paul as he went out.

MR. KEMP. Q. I believe you have an inspector always at your command A. Yes, but he was very ill at that time—the name of Twining was so often before me on inquiries about him, and I knew he could not be found.

JAMES DEWAR . I am a letter-carrier, and live at 20, North-street, Lime-house-fields—I am well acquainted with the neighbourhood in which Richard-street is—I deliver letters there—I recollect from about a few weeks before 1st August, until the middle of September, delivering letters at 23, Richard-street, for about two months, ending the middle of September—I delivered from forty to ninety a day on an average—it is a small cottage, and there was a placard in the window, "Mangling done here"—several of the letters were registered at times—I delivered them to Bays—I have seen Townsend at the house—I took receipts for the registered letters—these are some of them—I saw Bays sign them—they are signed "Esther Bays, for R. H. Twining"—I asked her who Mr. Twining was, once or twice, and she said he was a commercial traveller, and she was put there to take the letters—I have never delivered letters to Townsend—I recollect delivering a letter with "J. Brown" in the corner; that was about a Week or so before they were taken, as near as I can judge—all the letters I delivered

there were addressed to "R. H. Twining, Richard-street, East"—I delivered none there in any other name; I am certain of that—there was on one occasion a letter addressed to "R H. Twining, a swindler, Richard-street, East, London."

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Did you ever see Mrs. Bays open any of those letters? A. No; she seemed to take charge of them after my delivery—it was a very poor cottage.

JOSEPH TONGUE . I am a beer shop keeper, in Richard-street, Limehouse, very nearly opposite No. 23—I can see it very plain indeed—for some time prior to 1st October, I saw Townsend there, and Patrick Day; Bays resided there—I saw Townsend there shortly before the postman came in the morning, and she went away afterwards—I have seen both Townsend and Day come at that time, and depart shortly afterwards—Townsend used to carry a leather bag; you could hardly tell whether it was empty or full by the appearance of it—I saw Day there eight or nine times during the month of September, and Townsend much about the same—they might have come there some mornings without my seeing them.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. You won't venture to say it was either eight or nine times? A. No; I never made any memorandum—I will say positively that I saw them six times—I never saw Day dealing with letters—I never saw him reading a letter in the street, or carrying them—I believe Bays used to wash for the people round the neighbourhood, I can't say—I have seen mangling going in—she was in a very poor position in life, to all appearance.

DAVID TREGAR . I am a tailor at 13, Mercer-street, Long-acre—I know 12, Mercer-street—I have worked for the landlord, Mr. Walton, there—I have noticed the prisoners Smith and Paul going there, and have seen Townsend there—she lived there on the first-floor front room—Smith and Paul have merely rung the bell and asked for her—I have sometimes answered them—I saw them there half a dozen times, not more—sometimes they one before dinner, and sometimes in the evening; it was generally from 9 to 10 in the morning, about breakfast time.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Are you sure of that? A. I am—I swear it—I have never seen anybody else call on Mrs. Townsend, except one night, I saw a tall man, respectably dressed, who is not here, with a female—he gave no name.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. Other people came and saw Mrs. Townsend too? A. I did not see anybody else—I sit just behind the door—the street and shop door are quite close together, and when the bell rings I open the door—I don't get up—I did not take particular notice of Mrs. Townsend's visitors, but we have very queer visitors there.

MR. KEMP. Q. Will you look at that portrait, and say if that is the man who came? A. No: I think it was a fair man—I don't recognise the portrait.

JAMES GRIFFIN (Police-inspector). In consequence of certain communications that were made to me, I directed two police-constables to watch the house, 23, Richard-street, and from Mr. Clarke's calling on me on 15th September I examined the house—I found Bays there—the house was in a dilapidated condition, very poorly furnished—I have sold everything that was since for 25s.,—there was a mangle, a tub, and a horse—a letter was brought to me while I was there addressed to Mr. H. Twining—it was opened by the Magistrate at the Police-court—I received it from the hands

of the postman—Bays was present—she did not say anything about it—it begins: "September, 1862. Sir, will you have the kindness to say on what terms I can have 100l., by return?"—there was also another letter left at the house in the afternoon from another person, asking for a loan—the upper rooms of the house were not furnished at all, only the lower rooms—then was only a mattress for her to sleep on.

JAMES BRIDEN (Police-sergeant, K 4). I was instructed by Inspector Griffin to watch the house, 23, Richard-street, from 16th September up to 29th—I saw from thirty to forty, up to ninety letters delivered there every morning—one morning there was over ninety—I saw Bays receive them—I recollect on 16th September the postman delivering a number of letters addressed to R. H. Twining, Esq.—they were taken in by Mrs. Bays about half-past 9 in the morning—I saw Townsend leave the house that morning after the postman had been—I did not see her go there—I followed her where she left—she had a leather bag with her—I did not see the contents of it—it apparently contained the same sized bundle as that which the postman had delivered—I followed her, in company with Venables, to the Bank—we were in plain clothes—she there took an omnibus to the Old Kent-road—we got on to the top of the same omnibus—she got down at the corner of the Old Kent-road, at the Bricklayers Arms—there she was joined by a man who is not in custody—to the best of my belief this portrait (produced) is that of the man she joined—Venables found it at Townsend's, No. 12, Mercer-street after she was in custody—they walked about the streets far some little time—we were some distance from them, in the same street—I saw her pass something to him which looked white, like a bundle of letters—the man went up the Dover-road, and we lost him—we found Townsend again in the New Kent-road, and we followed her—she got inside an omnibus, and we followed it—Venables was still with me—she got out at Charing-cross, and went to No. 12, Cecil-court, St. Martin's-lane, the prisoner Paul's—it is a French letter place; a small shop—I saw Paul there—she went round a screen which was there, with Paul—I could not see what was going on there—on the next day I was again at Richard-street, and saw a further parcel of letters delivered, and taken in by Bays—I saw Townsend leave the house that morning, about the usual time after the postman had been—she had the same bag, and it contained about the same sized bundle—she took an omnibus, and got out in the Strand—I must refer to my notes; I made them at the time, every night when I got home—she went to Mercer-street, remained there about an hour, and then went to Paul's place again, and went behind the screen—I don't think she took the bag from her house to Paul's—on 18th September I again watched with Venables—I then saw a lot of letters delivered to Bays—I don't think I saw Townsend on that morning—I saw her go to Paul's again on 24th—I saw Day also at Richard-street, and at Paul's—I saw him with something in his left-hand jacket pocket on the 20th—on 24th September, after the postman delivered the letters, I saw Bays leave the house—she went up to the Commercial-road, met Townsend near the George public-house, and handed her a packet of letters—she passed something to her like a bundle of letters—they were generally tied up in a string—on the Monday they left together, and went to Mile-end-gate—I saw Day in the neighbourhood of the house on 30th, and saw him go to the house on 27th, and leave it prior to the two women—knowing that Townsend was there, I did not follow Day that morning—I was present at the money order office when the post-office order for 1l., 10s., was presented by Smith—I saw the

letter delivered that morning with the name of J. Brown on it, and I went to the Strand money order office on Wednesday, 1st October, about 10 o'clock in the morning, and remained there till about noon—Smith came and presented an order for 1l., 10s., and 3l., 0s., 6d.,—when he presented the order for 1l., 10s., Mr. Leake called out for the name of Gilbert, and Smith said, "I am here"—I believe those were the words—he took the money, and I then took him into custody—I told him I should charge him with conspiring with others to defraud Reuben Clarke and others of money—he said, "Oh, you have made a mistake"—I searched him, and found in his coat pocket the order for 3l., 0s., 6d., payable at that office, and the 1l., 10s., in money—I also found 3l., 8s., 1d., in other money—I afterwards went with Venables to 12, Mercer-street, and found Townsend there—she did not say anything—after taking her to Bow-street, we went to Cecil-court, and took Paul and Day in custody—Day was there at the time—we have not succeeded in capturing the man whom we saw with Townsend.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Who is this other man? A. I believe he is called Ashby Edwards, I don't think it is alias Dr. Watters—I have not seen him connected with this—this place of Paul's is very small, but a good deal of business might be done there—there are some nice shops in Cecil-court—I only saw Day twice—I did not see him with any letters opening them, or dealing with them in any way—Inspector Griffin searched Bays' house—I searched Paul's house—I found no letters of Twining's there, no letters of that sort—I believe, from a quantity of letters I found in his pocket, and from inquiries, that Day it a bill poster—I believe he is employed by Paul—the man that I saw, whose portrait I say this is, was a respectable well-dressed man, better dressed than the others.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. You suspect a person named Edwards to be connected with this matter?—A. Yes—I believe him to be the man—when I charged Smith with defrauding Mr. Clarke, he said directly, "You have made a mistake."

THOMAS VENABLES (Policeman, K 141). I have beard Briden's evidence; it is substantially correct—I recollect, on Tuesday, 19th September, the post-man delivering a parcel of letters at 23, Richard-street—I saw Paul come out on that morning, and followed him—he got on an omnibus, and I got up and sat with my back to him—Briden sat beside him—I saw a quantity of letters in Paul's pocket—I could not see to whom they were addressed—they were the same sort of letters I had seen delivered at Richard-street—I searched Townsend's place, and found that portrait and two cards—I put the cards on the table, and she seized hold of them, and threw them on the fire—I also found these letters in her room—she said they were letters relating to some friends of hers—I saw Bays one day give Townsend a quantity of letters in Bromley-street—I was in a public-house watching at the time.

Cross examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Were those letters tied up in a handle? A. Yes—I should say they had not been opened—those letters that Paul had in his pocket were also tied up at if they had not been opened—Mr. Griffin searched Bays' house.

MR. DICKIE to INSPECTOR GRIFFIN. Q. Did you find any open letters there A. I did not.

THOMAS MOBSBY . I live at 2A, New Hampstead-road, Kentish-town—I know the prisoner Townsend—she resided at 3, Alfred-place, Kentish-town—I was a postman at that time—I delivered letters to her frequently in the name of Lindsay, from fifty to sixty a day—that was about June or July in this year.

Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. You saw none of the other prisoner there? A. No.

BAYS, TOWNSEND, PAUL, DAY, GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months each.

SMITH— GUILTY.** Confined Two Years.

THIRD COURT.—Friday, October 31st, 1862.


Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1096
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1096. STEPHEN KEEFE (39, a blind man), Feloniously killing and slaying Eliza Keefe. He was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the same offence.

MESSRS. SLEIGH and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.

MARY ANN MCSWINNEY . I am the wife of John McSwinney, and live with my husband at 13, Rose-alley, Bishopsgate—the prisoner lived next door—his wife was a sister of mine—her name was Eliza Keefe—she was about forty years old I think—she had been married to the prisoner about thirteen or fourteen years, to the best of my knowledge; I do not know—she has had children by him—three are living, and she has buried two or three—Mary Ann, the eldest, is between eleven and twelve years old—the boy if about five, and the other about three—the prisoner and his wife occupied the front room on the ground floor of 12, Rose-alley—part of it was divided by a wainscoting from the house where I lived—if they spoke very loud, I could hear in one room what was passing in the other—I saw my sister about 8 o'clock on the Friday evening before she died on the Monday—I do not know the day of the month—she seemed then in pretty good health, but expecting her confinement—on the Saturday morning, about 2 o'clock, six hours afterwards, I was in bed, and heard the children scream dreadfully—I listened, and knew her children's screams—I sat on my bed, and heard a great weight fall, and then I heard a scream, and listened to it, and knew my sister's voice—I came down stairs directly, and went into her passage, and found her lying there—I saw the prisoner standing in his own room with a stick or piece of iron in his hand—on my coining there my sister said, "Mary-Ann, I'm done;" and she put her hand right down by the side of her belly—she was then lying on the floor with her feet towards her own room door—at the time she said "I'm done" the prisoner wanted to rush out at her from to his room—I stood in the doorway, turned my back to him, and opened my two arms to keep him in—he said, "I will kick the b——y bastard out of you; you have come to take her part, you old w—e; I will serve you just same"—I would not let him out, and he struck at me with something on the right elbow—it is quite purple still—I screamed for the police, hallooed out "Murder," and some men came up the steps—I heard them come up, and heard two or throe voices in the court—they were the scavengers, I think—one of the men made an attempt to come into the passage, and my sister said to him, "He is a blind man"—when the prisoner heard the people speak in the court he went into his room, shut the door, and made it fast—we heard him fastening it with something inside—I went into my house, and returned shortly afterwards to the passage—my sister was still lying on the floor of the passage—I helped her up, and sat her on the stairs—the prisoner was

then in his own room—I did not hear him say anything in his own room—I went upstairs to my own room, and came down to my sister two or three times during the night—she told me she had no pains of labour, but felt very faint and weak indeed—she did not appear to be in labour, but she complained of the side of her belly—about 6 in the morning, Mary Ann, the little girl, opened the door, and I came down stairs—she did not come out; I looked in—I stood it the door of the room where the prisoner was in bed—when he heard her voice he said, "Oh, it is you, is it, you b——y old w—e; get my shirt ready; you know where I am going this morning"—he was going to a blind asylum to get his money—I was with her at different times on the Saturday—on the Sunday, at 8 o'clock, she sent a little girl up to me—I went round, and found her lying in her own bed—she told me she was in labour, and I went to Mrs. Lewis, a Midwife, who came back with me directly—I remained in the room with my sister and the midwife; and I afterwards went for Dr. Fowler, in consequence of something Mrs. Lewis and to me—I remained there till the child was delivered, which was about 12 o'clock, I should say—the child was not alive—the prisoner came to the door while the doctor was there—the doctor told him he could not come in—that was, I think, about the time of the delivery—he then went away, and I next aw him on Monday evening, between 7 and 8 o'clock—he came into the room—there were a few others there he was in liquor—they told him to make no noise; that his wife was very ill indeed, and the child was dead—he said, "Yes, the b——y old w—e, her sister, has killed her and the child with brandy"—he said, "Eliza, take no more of it; you must have tome beer "—he remained there about three-quarters of an hour—I next saw him on the Tuesday morning about 12 o'clock—his wife was then dead—Mrs. Sutton was with me—they told him his wife was dead, and he said, "A b——y good job; I am rid of the lot of them now; Dr. Fowler and her b——y old sister have killed her "—I have seen him use violence towards my sister several times before—I have seen him use her shamefully.

Prisoner. Q. Did you say at the Mansion-house that I made a kick at my wife, and that you had put up your hand and stopped it? A. You would have kicked her if I had not been there; you kicked her before then—I have the mark now of the blow which you gave me on the elbow, with the stick or piece of iron, when I was at the doorway, keeping you from kicking my sister—my sister did push me down on the steps, when she was living, and cut me; that is five months ago—this is not a mark from a fall which I got when we were both drunk, and when she pushed me down and cut me—I did not ask my sitter Catherine to come up to the Mansion-house to swear falsely against you, to get money—I did not ask her to come to the Mansion-house at all—she did come there with me, and was there two days with me—I did not go to the station-house; my sister did—I did not say to her, "You might as well come, and you will get as much as I shall, and we will put it together sad have a good drink"—the coroner said that she was to come, and gave her a paper—of coarse I sent for her to the inquest because her sister was dead; I sent for her Between 5 and 6 on Tueday morning; I thought it my duty to let her know she was dead—I did not see you and your wife go out in good health on Saturday evening, but I heard that you went out to market together and came in—I did not see my sister out on the Sunday—I saw her in her own room, getting her dinner ready—I saw her standing at the door when you and Dennis Murphy and her brother William went out; I did not see her out—I do not know whether she had some beer with you in the Magpie public-house

in New-street between 2 and 3 o'clock; I did not see her go there nor hear that she had been there till I heard you say so at the Mansion-house—she never, to my knowledge, gave me any money to get a waistcoat of yours, which money I spent in drink; she never did; I do not think she had the chance of having 2s.; you never gave it her; you took care to go all those errands yourself—I did not see you come in at 12 o'clock at night, just after she died; I was not speaking to you—on the Tuesday morning, when you came in drunk with another man, you went to sit on the bed where she lay, and I said, "You must not sit there;" that was not at 12 o'clock on Sunday morning.

SARAH TRUSTY . My husband's name is James, and we live in the ground-floor back room, at 12, Rose-alley, the same house in which the prisoner and the deceased lived—they occupied the front room on the same floor—there is a small partition between the two rooms, not bigger than a room door—we can hear everything that pastes in the adjoining room—on Friday night I went to bed between 9 and 10 o'clock, as near as I can tell—I was awoke on Saturday morning by the screams of the children; I think it must have been about 2 o'clock; and I heard the prisoner say, "You wh—, I will kill you; I will rip your belly open, and let your bastard out"—I heard a weight fall; I cannot say what it was that appeared to fall—it was a common occurrence there, a disturbance at a late hour of the night, and I did not take much notice—it seemed a soft fall, not the sound of a noisy weight—then I heard Mrs. Keefe scream, and she groaned for some time after—the first person I heard come in was Mrs. McSwinney, from the adjoining house—I heard her say, "What is the matter? Murder, murder—I heard the prisoner say, "You wh—, you have come in to take her part; I will kill you; I will take your chemise off and turn you out," and he made use of a fearful expression which I cannot mention—I was in my room all the time, and never opened my door—I heard a scrimmage, and then I heard a man's voice—that was after Mrs. McSwinney had come in—I did not hear anything besides words before I heard the groaning, or before Mrs. McSwinney came in—the groans and screaming were immediately after the fall—after Mrs. McSwinney came in I heard a man's voice, not the prisoner's; I cannot say whose it was, but I imagine it was one of the scavengers, for I heard Mrs. Keefe say, "He is blind"—that was the first word I heard her say after the fall.

Prisoner. Q. Did you not see my wife in your place on Sunday morning? A. I did; she was in my room on the Sunday, but I did not hear her complain; you were in my room about a quarter after 3, and your wife was in my room at about half-past 2, apparently well—on the Saturday morning she said she felt poorly, and that she was in the last week of her confinement

MARY ANNE KEEFE . I am getting on for eleven years old—the prisoner is my father—on the Friday before my mother's death I went out with him in the afternoon; I do not know at what time; it was about 4 o'clock—I went back home with him between 12 and 1 the same night—my mother was there—I do not exactly know whether she spoke to my father—I went out with my mother to Flower and Dean-street to get some supper; that is about a quarter of a mile from our house—my mother bought some things, and brought them home in her apron—at the bottom of Frying Pan-alley we met my father—we had left him sitting by the fire when we went out—my mother said to him, "What makes you standing there?" and he called her all manner of names—I and my mother and he went back to the

house—when we got to the house, my mother took the things out of her apron—as he was doing that, my father had the stick from under the bed, and he knocked her down in the passage and beat her with the stick—some of the things were still in her apron—she screamed, and also my brother and sister—my father threw the stick down after beating her once or twice, and I put it in the cupboard—he kicked her in the side after I had got the stick, and he pulled the hair out of her head—he put his knee on her while she was on the ground—the blows were given when she was on the ground—he did not say anything while he was beating her—my aunt, Mrs. McSwinney, heard the screams, and came down in her chemise; I saw her come, and after she had been, I went to bed, leaving my mother in the passage of the house; my father called me in, and I went to bed—my father went to bed—I got up in the morning about 6 o'clock, and saw my mother sitting on the stairs—I called her in without making a noise—my father was asleep then—he went to sleep after he called me in—I did not see my mother when I woke again—my mother did not stay long; she went away; she told me to boil some water and make a cup of tea—I went up stairs to my aunt's, and saw my mother in her room sitting by the fire, and then I went to bed again—that was the last I saw of her.

Prisoner. Q. Were you at school on the Friday? A. Yes; I came home at 4 o'clock, had some tea, and went out with you—I met you indoors—I did not meet you in the Sandy Smith, in Dock-street, at 5 o'clock—you were indoors when I came in to have tea—I went out with you at 4 o'clock—I was let out of school at 4—it would take me about ten minutes to come from Pell-street, Brick-lane, to Rose-alley; I did not delay—it did not take me long to have tea; not a quarter of an hour—I was ready to go out; I only had to put on my bonnet and shawl—you were indoors washing your face when I came home—you and I came home between 12 and 1 o'clock that Friday night; it struck 12 as we turned the corner of Rose-alley—you gave ray mother a shilling before you sat down, and when she and I were coming out we left you sitting by the fire—Mrs. Buckley did not follow us out—you came and net us as we were coming down Frying Pan-alley—it was not just striking I then; we were not more than a quarter of an hour out—there are fifteen minutes in a quarter of an hour; I do not know how many there are in an hour—when I and my mother went out we were running all the way; we did not delay hardly a minute at the shop—I did not hear my mother say to you, when we were having breakfast, "I fell off the chair yesterday, and I thought I was killed, when I was spreading some clothes across the line"—I was there on a Sunday morning when she brought in the tub of water—she did not let the tub drop—I did not hear her say that she had hurt herself in any way—you tore the hair out of her head—I have not got the hair; I do not know what became of it; I saw you do it—I was trying to save her, when you hit me two clouts with the stick—I went to Brick-lane with my mother when we went out to get the supper—Flower and Dean-street is opposite Brick-lane; opposite the cook's shop where we got the meat for you—we went to Brick-lane for meat, and bread, and sugar—we did not get all at the same place; we went to the cook's shop for the meat and potatoes.

CAROLINE LEWIS . I am a widow, And am the appointed midwife to the East London Union—on the evening of Sunday, 28th September, I went to the prisoner's residence about 8 o'clock—I found his wife there, standing by the side of her bedstead—when I made a professional examination, I found she wag in strong labour—the pains continued for, some three-quarters of

an hour, as near as possible—it appeared to be natural labour during that time—at the end of the three-quarters of an hour there was a change—the patient suddenly turned over on the other side, and uterine action entirely ceased; that is, the labour pains entirely ceased—she turned very pale, which induced me to believe some internal injury was going on from the labour, which I could not account for—I immediately sent for Dr. Flower—he came immediately—I remained with the patient—as near as I can tell, the delivery was about half-past 11 o'clock; I could not say positively—I was not present at the death.

Prisoner. Q. Could you tell whether the child was dead or alive at the time? A. I could not.

ROBERT FOWLER . I am a doctor of medicine, residing at Bishopsgate-street-within, and am district medical officer to the East London Union—about half-past 9 o'clock on Sunday, 28th September, I was sent for by Mrs. Lewis to attend the deceased woman—I got there between half-past 9 and 10, and found her presenting some of the most serious symptoms which can possibly arise during a state of midwifery—she was in a state of perfect collapse, the face pale and very anxious-looking, breathing difficult; her tongue and breath were cold, her pulse scarcely perceptible at all at the wrists; there was an entire absence of all uterine action, and she was vomiting—from the examination I made of the state of her labour, I found that the child was in such a position that a few expulsive pains should have brought it into the world; those symptoms indicated internal hæmorrhage, the result of some serious internal mischief—my judgment told me that her only safety lay in immediate delivery—I proceeded to attempt to obtain pains by medicinal and other measures, by stimulants; being unable to do so, I returned home for my obstetric instruments, and attempted to deliver by instruments; I was unsuccessful—I then effected the delivery by the operation of turning, and the woman was delivered of a still-born child; it was a large male child—I cannot positively state when its death occurred; it might have been dead between two and three days—I should say that it did not appear to have been alive within a few minutes or hours of delivery—it was a full-grown child—there was no alleviation whatever in the patient, of the symptoms produced by the delivery; in spite of domestic and other stimulants, she died in about twenty-four hours after delivery—I had once attended her about two or three years before, in the absence of a midwife; that was a natural labour, of twins; that was without any difficulty whatever; she was delivered before I could get there—I was subsequently present, when the post-mortem examination was made by Dr. Holden, in consequence of my declining to make it—I suggested that I would rather have some independent medical gentleman to perform it—on opening the belly, we found about half a pint of blood in its cavity, and, tracing for the source of that we discovered a large laceration at the posterior wall of the vagina, near to its junction with the neck of the womb—as regards the vital organs of the body generally, there were very slight indications of some old disease of the lungs, but quite insufficient to have prod need death—there was, in my opinion, nothing in any of the other vital organs which conduced to accele-rate death—there was hæmorrhage into the cavity of the belly—in my opinion, the kick which has been sworn to having been received by the woman, produced, at the time of its infliction, a certain amount of injury of the part, which injury became extended during the expulsive efforts of the mother in labour—from the fact of her being in perfect health up to the time these injuries were inflicted on her, and from what I saw in her life-time,

and on the post-mortem examination, the cause of death, in my judgment, was the laceration of the vagina—there is no doubt that that was the cause of death, and the cause of that laceration was a kick.

COURT. Q. Unless there was some previous injury, could a natural delivery have produced that laceration? A. No—they do occur when there is no symptom of external violence, but in those cases the woman has previously had very severe labours; she generally, during her last pregnancy, complains of some fixed pain in the womb, and the labour itself is more than ordinarily difficult—then the womb is more or less previously diseased, and the labour more than ordinarily severe—cases of laceration have occurred where the labour has been very severe, and where the previous confinements have also been very severe—if there has been some previous injury, it is hardly in its normal state—supposing it were in its normal state at the time of the delivery, very severe labour pains could undoubtedly have produced this state—labours very severe, have effected that injury, where it has been in its normal state at the time.

MR. SLIEGH. Q. Do those cases of laceration occur more frequently in first labours than in subsequent ones? A. Less frequently in first labours—in a case when a woman has had some six or seven children, and the labours were without any unfavourable character, it would be very improbable that there would be such laceration—the woman died on Monday, between 11 and 12 o'clock, and the post-mortem was made on the Thursday, about 10 o'clock—the body was in a perfect state of decomposition—I had not examined the exterior of the body previously—the decomposition was such that the evidence of bruises or ecchymosis would be quite destroyed—I heard of the acts of violence just subsequently to the delivery; previous to the time of death—in consequence of rumours during the morning of her death, it being stated that myself and the midwife were instrumental in causing the woman's death, I declined to give the certificate of death, and intimated that I would rather have a post-mortem examination—I believe the rumours emanated from the prisoner.

Prisoner. Q. Do you not think that blood was caused by a rupture? A. A rupture was the cause of the blood in the belly, undoubtedly—it is morally certain that the turning of the child had nothing to do with the state of the injury, because the symptoms, which are recognised by all authorities in midwifery, as indicative of the occurrence of these injuries, were antecedent to Mrs. Lewis sending for me.

COURT. Q. You have heard of Mrs. Lewis's account of the change that took place, have you any doubt that that was when the laceration took place? A. None whatever.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see any violence on the outside of my wife's flesh? A. None whatever.

COURT. Q. Supposing such an injury had been inflicted on Friday night, or early on Saturday morning, as, during the delivery, would cause the rupture, would that be inconsistent with her being in apparent health on the Sunday? A. Not at all; the effects of the mischief would not be seen till the rupture actually took place, and probably not felt.

LUTHER HOLDEN . I am assistant surgeon at St Bartholomew's Hospital—I made a post-mortem examination of the body of Mrs. Keefe—I have heard the evidence of Dr. Fowler, and entirely concur in it—I attribute Mrs. Keefe's death to the laceration which has been spoken of—I think it is in the highest degree probable that a certain amount of injury was inflicted at the time of the kick, which, when the labour came on, was greatly increased.

COURT. Q. The laceration might have taken place without that at all? A. That is a question which I would rather decline answering, as I am not an accoucheur.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see any wounds on the outside of my wife's flesh? A. The body was in such a state of decomposition, so green and blue, that it was quite impossible to say whether there was any mark of external violence upon it.

COURT to DR. FOWLER. Q. Suppose there was some previous injury to the womb before the Friday, in your judgment would a blow on the Friday night contribute materially to the death, if it was already not perfectly in a normal state? A. If in that particular spot, of course it would increased and accelerate it—it is perfectly possible that the laceration might have taken place without the blow; there are cases of course in which we cannot trace any history of the external violence.

CATHERINE SUTTON . I am the wife of Sidney Sutton, of 4, James-street, City-road, a jeweller—Mrs. Keefe was my sister—I saw her on the Wednesday previous to her death—she did not complain of anything particular then—I have not been present at previous confinements of here—after she was dead I attended to the laying out of the body—at 6 o'clock in the morning my sister's husband fetched me, and I laid the body out—I noticed several marks on the legs and shins, and on the lower part of the back, the small of the back, and on the back part of the thighs—by the small of the back I mean right from the lower part of the back to below the ribs—I observed it at the time—they were bruises—I saw the prisoner after the death—I was sitting in the room when he came in—he heard my sister cough, and said, "You old wh—, you and the doctor have killed my wife"—I jumped up, and said, "You wretch, you have butchered her at last; you are the murderer"—he said that if I did not leave the room he would butcher me the same—I went immediately to Dr. Fowler.

Prisoner. Q. Do you know anything about her; you are living in the City-road? A. I came to the station-house and charged you; I never knew anything good of you—I got no half-crown; I got nothing for going up to the Coroner's—I have not got two husbands alive—I am a lawful honourable married woman.

COURT. Q. Did you see any mark on the belly? A. I did not notice the belly at all—it was right round from each side of the hip in front and behind; right across; she was discoloured right down—I noticed it, and made the remark, "My sister has had foul play."

COURT to DR. FOWLER. Q. Could that have caused the particular mischief? A. It must have been on the soft part of the belly; not on the bony part of the side—if the blow came just above the groin, that would be the scat of the injury.

WILLIAM WREFORD (City-policeman, 54). On Tuesday, 30th September, I went to a private house in Flying-horse-yard, Halfmoon-street, Bishopsgate, and saw the prisoner lying down on an old bedstead, asleep—I roused him up and said, "Stephen, this is a very serious job about your wife, how are you going to bury her?"—he said he did not know what became of her, and he was glad that she was dead.

The prisoner called

JOHN GOODCHILD . I did not see you strike your wife or kick her on the night in question—your sister-in-law was not present at all when the dispute took place.

COURT. Q. Were you there on the Friday night? A. I was—when I

first heard the dispute I came halfway down stairs, and saw what transpired in the passage—there is a lamp in front of the passage—I live in the same house—I came down when I heard the row—the prisoner was making a great row, but I did not see any other mischief doing—that was about 1 o'clock on Saturday morning—I saw his wife—she was sitting in the passage when I came down, and her sister came to her and began to scream, "Murder"—she said, "Mary Ann, you need not make such a row as that; there is nothing the matter"—there were some men cleansing the court at the time, and they came and were going to interfere, and his wife said, "Don't you interfere at all; he is only a poor blind man," and they went away again—I said to her next morning, "You had a great row," she said, "That was nothing"—I said, "Were you not hurt?" she said, "No, I was not hurt"—she commenced her business as usual; and after Keefe threw her out of the passage, Mrs. McSwinney went up and brought down some weapon from her own house, next door—the wife said, "Don't strike him, or do him any injury; you know where he is going to-morrow"—he is a prisoner at some blind school—they were generally in the habit of marking him, for I have seen marks and outs previous to this—on the Saturday evening, when he had drawn his money, he came home, and he and his wife went out comfortably to market, and they came home nearly intoxicated—today came, and she got her dinner, and told me and my wife that there was nothing the matter with her—I saw all that I am telling you—they went to the Magpie after dinner and stopped there, and I was there when the came home, about 5 or 6 o'clock, very much intoxicated, and was taken in labour at the time—the midwife was sent for, and I know no more—I never saw the prisoner in the passage.

COURT. Q. What was she doing outside the room? A. She was sitting down in the passage.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. What room do you occupy? A. All the one-pair floor, the back and front rooms, just over them—I heard screams that night, but only screams of children—I heard no other screams, to my knowledge—I heard no fall—I saw Mrs. McSwinney when she came out of her own house—Mrs. Keefe was then sitting in the passage—I saw nothing of Mrs. McSwinney before Mrs. Keefe was sitting on the stairs—I did not see Mary Ann Keefe, the little girl, that night—I saw the prisoner coming home that night—his wife and he were not exactly close together, but they were coming home together; I believe his wife had something in her apron—I was in the street when they were coming home—I entered the house first, and went up stairs to bed—they followed after—I believe they were disputing on the way—I cannot exactly say the words they said, for I was not very close—I have not been in Court to-day during the trial—I have not heard the language that the little girl has spoken of—on the road home there were some observations about some money that she had spent, about thirteenpence, which he sent her with to buy some things, and I heard her say she had spent some—he said she had been away too long—there were some threats, I believe—I went in up stairs, and heard screams of the children, but saw nothing more of Mrs. Keefe until she was sitting on the stairs, and Mrs. McSwinney was there—I believe the prisoner was drunk at that time—he was in a great passion, but I did not see him do anything else—there were constant disputes—there were disputes on two hundred nights out of the 365—they used both to come borne drunk.

ELLEN GOODCHILD . On the Saturday before the death of the prisoner's wife, she asked me if I had anything for her to wash.; I said, "No," that I

would do it myself that evening; that she was too ill to wash—all that day and next day she was in as good health as ever I knew her to be in, but she complained of her back, through leaning against the stairs—she often knocked at my door, and I have let her in—I did not see her in the Magpie on Sunday, but she told me she was there—she came in very intoricated in the afternoon, between 5 and 6 o'clock; she did not know me then.

Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. You say you have often let her in before? A. Yes—I live on the first floor—when she was tipsy or afraid of her husband, if she had not the fire alight or all things ready for him, she always fled from him, and I always let her in—I allowed her to come to my room for fear of him—I knew nothing about them before they came to that house.

DENNIS MURPHY . I went in on the Sunday; I think it was 12 o'clock or a few minutes past, and the prisoner's wife was peeling some potatoes ready to go to the baker's—I said, "You are late"—she said, "No"—she was very pleasant and cheerful, and when she came back from the baker's she cleaned his boots—he and I and my brother went out to the Magpie after 1 o'clock, and had some porter—she came in between 2 and 3 o'clock, with a jug in her hand, and asked the prisoner if he would give her any gin; he said, "No;" and I said I did not want any—she drank freely, and called for a pot of porter—at 3 o'clock we came out, and she went out for her dinner; she went home, and I did not see any more of it.


The officers stated that the prisoner had been in custody previously for ill-using his wife, and had been sentenced to three months' imprisonment, and that the police were frequently called in to appease his brutal violence towards his wife.

Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1097
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

1097. WILLIAM BARR (26) , Feloniously killing and slaying Jane Barr.

MR. LUMLEY SMITH conducted the Prosecution.

GEORGE SMITH (Policeman, N 99). On 1st October I was in Murray-street, Hoxton, about 5 minutes to 11 o'clock, and saw a cart there being driven at the rate of about ten or twelve miles an hour—the prisoner and a person, whom I afterwards found to be named Saunders, were in the cart—a female and some boys were at the back of the cart—the prisoner was driving—I hallooed to them to stop, and can after them up the street, but lost sight of them—they turned down one of the by turnings there—I saw the same cart, about a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes afterwards, at the Earl of Durham public-house, in Murray-street—I am positive it was the same cart—a shaft was broken off—no person was with the cart, except a man who was holding the horse—I saw the prisoner, at the side of the public-house, attending to his wife, who was insensible—he was trying to do all he possibly could for her, to assist her recovery—I did not stay till she died—I saw that he had been drinking very freely—when the cart passed me the first time, I saw the driver cut the horse across the back with the whip; that made me halloo to them.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did you know the prisoner before? A. No—I have been accustomed to horses—there is a hoarding in Britannia-street, covered over with bills and placards, but that is not on the route where I saw them—it was close to where the accident occurred—I was not present when the prisoner said that the horse had taken fright at that hoarding, and that he was unable to manage him—I went to the police-court on the first occasion, but I was not summoned to the Coroner's inquest.

MR. SMITH. Q. Were there many carts about at that time of night? A. No—it was at 5 minutes to 11 o'clock.

COURT. Q. How far is the place where the accident occurred from the place where you saw the cart? A. He turned down the second turning out of Murray-street, and he must have gone down the City-road and come up Britannia-street—that would be rather over half a mile—he could not get there direct through the New North-road—he could have gone a more direct route—he could have gone up Murray-street, where the Earl of Durham is.

WILLIAM BARKER (Policeman, N 527). I was in Provost-street on the night in question, about 3 or 4 minutes to 11—that is not a great number of yards from Murray-street; it joins Murray-street—I saw a horse and cart there galloping along very furiously—it went so fast that I could not discern who were in the cart, but I saw two men, some boys, and a female—I did not see them again till at the Earl of Durham—I was with the woman when she died—the horse did not appear to have run away; they seemed to be urging it on.

Cross-examined. Q. It was a very dark night? A. It was a dark night, but there was a lamp as they passed me—I and several other witnesses were examined before the Coroner's Jury.

COURT. Q. In what way were they urging it on? A. He had a whip in his hand, and did not seem to be trying to stop it—I saw him use the whip once, and only once.

HENRY MULLENS . I am a bonnet-blocker, living at Edward's-place, Aldersgate-street—I was run over, on 1st October, as I was crossing the East-road, which runs out of the City-road, by the toll-bar—I know Provost-street—I should think that was a quarter of a mile from there—it was near about 11 o'clock—I was crossing the road—I could not exactly say whether I was on the crossing or the gravel—I was knocked down by a horse and cart—I don't know whether it was the horse or the cart that knocked me down—I was grased—I have no recollection of who was in the cart—I was picked up and taken to the doctor's—I could not see at what pace the cart was coming.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe you were just coming out of a public-house? A. I left a beer shop in Hoxton-square, which is a quarter of a mile off, I should think—I was coming straight along, attempting to cross from one side of the East-road to the other—I think it was rather dark just about there at that time—I cannot say exactly how far I had got across when I felt the cart—I should think I was about the middle of the road—I can't say whether there was a lamp anywhere near—I think the public-house had got one—I did not take particular notice—I had been in the beer shop with a friend, from 8 o'clock till about 11—I was not smoking—I was taking half a pint of beer.

COURT. Q. Were you perfectly sober? A. I can't say whether I was or not—I had had a pint of beer—it might have been two pints.

THOMAS EATON (Policeman, N 407). On the evening of 1st October, about 4 or 5 minutes past 11, I was passing along East-road, Hoxton, and heard a cry of "Wo!" and "Stop horse!"—I immediately ran to the spot—the last witness was lying on the ground—I assisted to pick him up, and sent him to the doctor's—he was bleeding from the head—I saw the prisoner there in the crowd—there was a horse and cart standing a few yards away—I believe there was a female and three boys in the cart at the time—I asked the prisoner if he was the driver—he said he was—I told him he must consider

himself in my custody until the man had been before a doctor—he said, "All right"—I turned to see the man to the doctor's, and the people hallooed out, "He is going away"—I turned and saw the prisoner driving away—the other man was also in the cart—they drove off at a galop—I immediately ran after them—he went into the City-road, and turned down Britannia-street—I still followed them into Murray-street—I saw the prisoner use the whip to the horse a great many times in the City-road—when I got to the corner, the cart was upset, and the deceased was lying, I believe, with her head under the wheel—I did not see the accident—I again asked the prisoner if he was the driver, and he said he was—I told him he must consider himself in my custody—he said, "Very well"—the woman was taken into the public-house, and I sent for Dr. Griffith—the prisoner was in liquor—I did not at that time hear him say anything about a hoarding—as we were going to the station he said the horse took fright at a hoarding in Britannia-street—that would be before I saw him whipping the horse.

Cross-examined. Q. Did he not say that directly you went up to him in the public-house, and told him to consider himself in custody? A. No—I have been examined before—he said it on the road to the station—he might have said so going out of the public-house on the way to the station—he was taken from the bar of the public-house to the station-house—I believe he did not say, before he left the house, that the horse took fright at a hoarding—the prisoner was injured—he was rendering every assistance he possibly could to his wife—I was about seventy or eighty yards off when I first heard the cry—the cart had not passed me then—I could not say in which direction it was coming—the prisoner did not offer me, or any one else, in my hearing, his name and address—I did not ask him his name—I am quite sure he did not give me his card and address—I know where the hoarding is—he might have said at the public-house that his horse had taken fright at a hoarding, but I was not there if he did say so—I went away immediately.

MR. SMITH. Q. How long did he stay at the public-house before you took him away to the station? A. An hour, I should think—he did not stay till the woman died—he was taken away in custody.

CHARLES WARREN . I am a greengrocer, at 1, Britannia-street, City-road—on the evening of 1st October, I saw a horse and cart coming by, about five minutes to 11 o'clock, or 11—they were driving it at the rate of about ten miles an hour, or a little more—I saw the driver hit the horse once—after it had passed about two minutes, there was a potman, I believe, running after them and shouting, "Stop that horse and cart," but I think it was too far off to hear that—there was a policeman after the potman—they were running after the cart—there were four or five people in the cart, but I could not see who they were—they passed and went out of sight.

Cross-examined. Q. It might have been a little less, I dare say, than ten miles an hour? A. It was about ten miles an hour; I am a pretty good judge of horses—I did not go to the Earl of Durham—I never stirred from my shop—I had nobody to leave there.

COURT. Q. Do you know where the hoarding is in Britannia-street? A. Yes—when he passed me it was before he had passed the hoarding.

JOSEPH JOHNSON . I am a tailor, at 61, Britannia-street—I saw this accident—the horse was galloping up the street, and as it got to the corner, by the Earl of Durham, the wheel caught the edge of the kerb, and the cart turned over, and every one in the cart was thrown out—I know the

number that was in the cart—I think the prisoner it one—there was a woman, three boys, and another man; six in all—I heard the prisoner say that he was the driver—I stated in my examination before that the hoarding was 200 yards from where the accident took place, but it is not so much as that—I should think it is about 150 yards.

Cross-examined. Q. Then he would have passed the hoarding when the accident occurred? A. Yes—it was after he passed the hoarding—I heard him say that the horse had taken fright, but I did not hear him mention the hoarding—I heard him say that he became unmanageable—he said that to the policeman just after the accident—the policeman, directly he came up, asked who was driving, and the prisoner answered that he was; and then the policeman told him that if he had stayed before, when he told him, this accident would not have happened—the prisoner then replied, "My horse became unmanageable"—Eaton was the officer to whom he said that—that was in the street, just as he got out of the Earl of Durham—I was there before the prisoner came up.

MR. SMITH. Q. Was there much crowd after this accident occurred? A. Not directly; it collected a few minutes afterwards.

WILLIAM PRICE . I am just turned thirteen years old, and live at 39 1/2, Curtain-road—I recollect going for a ride one night in the prisoner's cart—the prisoner and Mrs. Barr, Mr. and Mrs. Saunders, and two more boys, were in the cart—it was about 11 o'clock at night—we went to Mr. Sunders' house in the cart—that is down by the Rosemary Branch-bridge—I cannot tell how long we stopped there—it was more than an hour—I stayed in the cart—the prisoner was in Mr. Saunders' house, and Mr. Saunders also—I remember two or three pints of beer being sent for and taken into the house, while I was in the cart—afterwards Mr. Saunders and the prisoner came and got into the cart, and we all drove off together—the horse did not gallop; he trotted till he got to the City-road—I remember being stopped in consequence of some one being knocked down—the horse was then going at ten or twelve miles an hour—the prisoner was driving—he slashed the whip at the side of the cart—I do not know whether he hit the horse or not—I was at the back—the cart stopped when the man was knocked down—the prisoner afterwards drove off again at ten or twelve miles an hour—he merely slashed his whip at the side of the cart as before—we went down Britannia-street, at the same pace all the way—I was thrown out—he struck the horse when we were about three parts up Britannia-street—I cannot tell how long that was before we were thrown out; I have no recollection—the prisoner was neither drunk nor sober—he had supper, I believe, before he went out.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever been out for a drive with the prisoner before that night? A. Yes; not very often—I have not been out with his wife before, but in the cart with him—no accident ever happened before when I was with him—I recollect observing something in the action of the horse before Mullens was knocked down—the horse shied when we were coming away from Mr. Saunders,' after we had started—I know what is meant by a horse shying—he did not shy again before Mullens was knocked down.

MR. SMITH. Q. Tell us what it means when a horse shies? A. I hardly Know what shying does mean—I could see the horse from where I was sitting—we three boys were sitting behind the prisoner, with our faces towards the horse—Mrs. Saunders and Mrs. Barr were at the side of the prisoner—I was not in the middle of the three boys, but at the side.

JOHN SMITH (Police-sergeant, N 22). I went to the Earl of Durham

public-house on the night in question, and saw the deceased there—the doctor was with her—I saw the prisoner there; he was drunk—I stayed till the deceased died—the prisoner and Saunders were pointed out to me there.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean that he was unmistakeably drunk, in your opinion? A. He was really drunk—it was not the result of the accident—he was not beastly drunk, but I had no doubt about his being drunk.

MR. SMITH. Q. Was he hurt? A. I was not aware that he had received any injury—his coat was all dirty—I did not observe that his face was cut.

WILLIAM COLLARD (Police-sergeant, N 12). I took the charge against the prisoner—he treated it rather lightly—when the charge was mentioned to him about being drunk, he laughed—I said, "It is no laughing matter; it is very serious"—he laughed again, and I said, "It is a very serious matter"—he did not know at that time that his wife was dead—he was not very drunk, but was under the influence of liquor—he appeared to be hurt by the fall, slightly bruised, and his coat was torn—he was drunk from liquor.

Cross-examined. Q. The moment you told him his wife was dead he was cooled? A. We did not tell him during the night that she was dead, not till the morning—he appeared very much surprised at it—he was crying two or three times in the night.

JOHN CLEWIN GRIFFITH . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—I was called to the Earl of Durham public-house on 1st October, in the evening, and saw the deceased there—she was suffering from concussion of the brain, and was perfectly insensible—I remained with her till she died, which was about an hour, or an hour and a half afterwards—in my judgment her death was caused by concussion of the brain, which concussion was likely to be caused by a fall from a cart.

HENRY HALL . I know the deceased; I saw her after she was dead, when she was brought home—she was the wife of the prisoner.

Cross-examined. Q. Had they been married six years? A. Eight years, and had two children—the prisoner has always borne the character of a perfectly quiet, well-conducted, respectable man—I never saw him the worse for liquor—I know that he has been in the habit of driving a cart for many years, and he has driven my son and daughter out—I have never known of any accident before.

Witnesses for the Defence.

HENRY MORTIS . I live at Blackheath—on the night of 1st October I arrived at the prisoner's premises at 7 o'clock, and left there between twenty and twenty-five minutes past 9—I was there transacting business during that time—the prisoner was perfectly sober, and able to transact the business I had with him—I saw him start in the cart at twenty-five minutes past 9—the cart was waiting for me to finish the business with him—I saw the horse rear on three or four occasions—I had never seen the horse before that, of the prisoner.

Cross-examined by MR. SMITH. Q. Did the prisoner have supper before he went? A. He was at supper when I arrived; but he left it without drinking his beer—he left that on the table—I don't know what he had before that—the cart came there, I should think, about half an hour before I left, and the horse was held by a man; it was very restless; I made the remark at the time that I should not like to ride on such a thing—I believe this was on 1st October—I can swear that it was the night of the accident.

BENJAMIN SAUNDERS . The prisoner and his wife came to my house about twenty minutes to 10 on the night this occurred—he drove up in his horse and cart, and remained, I should think, about half an hour, or a little more,

at my house, 24, Inglefield-road, Southgate-road, which is about a mile from his house—the horse was a very restive one—I know of the prisoner's having that horse and cart before—I have seen the horse shy very often at a piece of paper, or a dog, or a person crossing the road, and there would be the greatest difficulty in keeping it off the pavement—the prisoner, in my judgment, was always a very careful driver—I never saw him the worse for liquor, and I have known him nine years—I had to go somewhere and the prisoner said he would drive me up to the City-road, as it was on his way home—his wife was in the cart, himself, me, and three boys—he drove me up the East-road, and as he was crossing the East-road the witness Mullens and another man came out of a public-house, and came off the pavement—the prisoner pulled up as quickly as he could, and pulled the horse round, and the horse went over the man, but the wheel did not—the prisoner did all he could to prevent anything happening to the man—he and I got out of the cart, and we afterwards got in again and went round the City-road and up Britannia-street; he was going to call somewhere—as we came to Eagle-street there was a hoarding with some bills on it, some of which were flying out from the hoarding—the horse shied at them, and ran on the pavement—the prisoner kept him off as well as he could, but when we got to the corner it caught against the kerb, and we were turned over, and were all thrown out—the bills were loose at the bottom—the prisoner did all he possibly could, after the horse shied at the hoarding, to keep it steady in the road, and prevent any accident.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you in the habit of driving? A. Yes; I have driven to office this two years—the prisoner stayed at my house about half an hour—he did not have any supper there—he had a glass of half-and-half—we sent for a pot, and afterwards the boy went for a pint and a half, and out of that he had a glass—I am quite sure he did not have more than a glass and a half of it—Price took care of the cart while the prisoner was in my house—he had the horse about half an hour—it did not run away than—it reared when we were going to start, and I got down with him out of the cart to lead it off—I was not at all afraid to go out in the cart—when we went down Britannia-street the prisoner was not driving at the rate of more than seven miles an hour—I saw Mullens step off the pavement—we were not going at seven miles an hour then—the horse had just began to trot when he knocked Mullens down—the prisoner pulled the horse up in time, but Mullens seemed to tumble off the pavement—the cart stopped, and the prisoner and I both got out, and about a dozen people collected—I did not hear anything said about the prisoner or myself being taken into custody—the prisoner offered his card to the policeman, No. 407, but he waved his hand, and said, "No, no," and then the prisoner said, "We may as well go," and we got into the cart and drove slowly down the City-road—if any one wished to follow us they could have caught us round the triangle—I was not aware that any one was following us—we went quietly till we got to the hoarding—we went at about seven miles an hour down Britannia-street—I am quite sure it was not more than that—the prisoner did not whip the horse at all; he was slashing the whip—it was a small cart, and the whip hung over it, and was dangling as we went along—the prisoner did not slash at the sides, after the horse shied at the hoarding—we were upset at the corner, and I was thrown out over the horse's head—my arm was injured very much—I got up and got over the horse's head—the horse had fallen down and was just getting up as I was getting over its head—some one held it, and I ran behind the cart to see to the prisoner and his wife—I helped Mrs. Barr into the public-house—I stopped there about an hour—I saw the prisoner

taken in custody, and I was taken into custody also—I denied that I was in the cart: that was in order that I should be able to go and fetch some of my friends and his friends—I was not taken into custody—I went with them to the station

WILLIAM EICKE . I live next door to the prisoner—I saw him about 9 o'clock on the night this occurred—I saw him drive away from his door—he was perfectly sober; I never saw him otherwise—I know the horse he is in the habit of driving; I think it is a very dangerous one—I was out one day driving a little pony and cart and saw him driving along; there was a van coming, and as it came along this horse turned right round, and was gone like a flash of lightning—I have known the prisoner from a boy—I never saw him the worse for liquor; he was a very abstemious man indeed.

COURT. Q. Were you in your house when you saw him? A. At the door—I was speaking with the prisoner at 8 o'clock, and he had a gentleman come in, a customer, and he left me and went into his own house.

EMILY SAUNDERS . I am the wife of Mr. Saunders, who has been examined—I remember the prisoner coming to our house the night this occurred, and staying there about an hour and three quarters—he was perfectly sober—he had some beer at our house—he was perfectly sober when he left—I have known him for years, and know him to be a well-conducted quiet man.

JOHN HALL . I lodge in the same house as the prisoner, whom I have known since he was a child—he has always borne the character of a sober well-conducted man—I never saw him intoxicated—I saw him start from home on the night this accident occurred—I did not see him go away in the horse and cart, but he left my door to go—it might have been a quarter or twenty minutes past 9 then—he was perfectly sober—I did not see him start from the door.

JANE HALL . I am the wife of the last witness—I saw the prisoner about a minute before he started—I did not see him get into the cart—he was perfectly sober—the deceased was my daughter.

EDWARD WEST . I reside at Hackney-road, and am a brewer—I never saw the prisoner before last Monday—at the time this accident occurred I was passing, and I helped to carry the deceased into the house—I saw the prisoner; I should say he was sober, but very excited; I could not tell whether he was drunk or sober—I should say decidedly he was not drunk—I did not notice that his face was cut—I did not notice that, for I was undoing his wife's bonnet.

Cross-examined. Q. Where were you when the cart was turned over? A. I was about fifty yards off—it did not pass me—I saw nothing of it till she was lying on the ground, and then I heard the prisoner call out, "Hold the horse," and afterwards, "Oh! my wife, oh! my wife."

MARY BENNETT . I am in the service of Mr. and Mrs. Saunders—I remember the prisoner coming to their house, and going away on the night this happened—he had some beer there—he appeared quite sober.

COURT. Did you go for the beer? No; the boy did.

(The Jury here stated that they were satisfied of the prisoner's innocence.)


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1098
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

1098. THOMAS HITCHCOCK (34) , Unlawfully causing to be exposed for sale, in Newgate-market, 500lbs. of beef, unfit for human food; to which he PLEADED GUILTY .—(He received a good character.)— Confined Six Months.

FOURTH COURT.—Friday, October 31st, 1862.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1099
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

1099. FRANCIS WELLS (32) , Stealing 517 riding whips, value 150l., the property of John Smith and another. (See the case of Kaufman, page 573).

MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN SMITH . I am a whipmaker, living at Beech-street, Barbican—on the evening of 3d September, about half-past 6, I left my premises safely locked and secured—I went there the next morning about half-post 9—a little after 10, a gentleman came in and wanted some riding-whips—I opened the drawers, and found that six or seven had been emptied of their contents—several hundred whips were gone, to the value of about 150l.,—I afterwards saw the property in the hands of the police, and identified the whole of it as mine—the whips were loose in the drawers, and each drawer was emptied—ladies' riding-whips take up no room at all, and gentlemen's lie very close—I also missed two hog skins, which the whips were wrapped up in—the skins were white.

Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. Q. You say there were seven drawers' full? A. I opened seven drawers, and I found them empty—there were fourteen drawers altogether, and a parcel in each drawer—one hog skin would not contain 517 whips—two, I should think, would—we could not tell how many skins we missed; it might be three or four—the whips were evidently packed very closely, because we found six dozen on the counter ready packed—we should put 517 whips into one parcel if we had an order for so many in one parcel—it would make a parcel about two feet square in height, breadth, and length.

MR. ORRIDGE. Q. You say you found six dozen ready for removal? A. Yes; taken out of another drawer—they were not there over-night, nor packed by our men.

WILLIAM HARRISON . I am foreman to Messrs. Smith, 1, Beech-street, Barbican—I fastened up the premises on the night before—I went to work on the morning of the 4th, when Mr. Smith discovered the empty drawers—there is an empty house next to the premises, at the corner, in Red Cross-street and Beech-street.

JOHN RAYNER . I am a ginger-beer seller, and have a stall in Barbican—I know Messrs. Smith's premises in Beech-street—there is an empty house at the corner of Red Cross-street—part of it is in Beech-street—on the morning of 4th September, between 4 and 5, I was at my stall, which is at the corner of Golden-lane, in Beech-street, about fourteen or fifteen yards from the door where he came out—I remember the police relief passing me that morning—that was about a quarter past 6—after they had passed, a pony and cart drove up to the empty houses—there was a man driving—when he had driven up to the door, the door opened, and the prisoner brought a bundle out, and put it in the cart—he is the person—he gave it a shove with his right hand, which made it go to the bottom of the cart—it appeared to be wrapped up in a white cloth—it was a longish parcel, about a yard and a half long, of pretty good bulk—the prisoner stared me in the face, and I him—directly the parcel was put in the cart the prisoner shut the door, got up in the cart, and off the cart drove—I believe it was on the 6th that I next saw the prisoner—I was called out of bed at 2 o'clock

in the morning—I think it was the next morning, or the morning after I had seen the man come out of the house; I won't swear—three or four policeman came for me—I went with them to Bethnal Green-road, to see if I could identify the man—I waited some time in the outer room, and then went in—they said, "Is he there?"—there were three men there, and he was the middle one—I said, "That is the man"—I believe that was on the 6th; I won't say for certain—I was sent for to Moor-lane before that, but I did not know anybody there.

Cross-examined. Q. When was it you picked this man out; was it a day or two after you had seen him come out of the house? A. Yes; it was—I am turned seventy-eight years of age—I have stood at my ginger-beer stall for twenty years, at different times; not in the winter—I had not told Huggett about this before he came to me—he came to the stall and asked me if I saw a bundle come out, and I said, "Yes; I did"—the man on the beat also asked me if I saw it—several other policemen asked me if I saw it, and I said, "Yes"—I said, "That is the man" to Huggett—he was standing at the door of the room—I did not turn round to Huggett and say, "That is the man;"—I looked at the prisoner, and said, "I believe that is the man;" then I looked at him again, and said, "Yes; that is the man"—I don't think I went out of the place before I said anything at all—I went to the door, but whether I went out I won't say—the cart drove up at the back of me, coming as if it came from Smithfield, that way, and drove past me—Golden-lane is on the opposite side to Red Cross-street—part of Red Cross-street is nearer Smithfield than Golden-lane—my stall is opposite Red Cross-street—the back of the cart was to me after it went past—there was one man in the cart—it was between me and the pavement, on the other side of the way—after the parcel was put into the cart it was driven towards Finsbury-square—I don't know whether the same man drove who drove at first—I did not take that notice—I did not speak to them.

MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Had you a good sight of the man who came out of the house? A. Yes—he looked at me two or three times, the same as I look at you—I am quite sure he is the man.

JACOB GOODMAN . I live at 141, Cannon-street-road, St. George's-in-the-East—I don't know the prisoner—I have seen him before—I can't say when I first saw him—I remember the day I was taken into custody—I did not see him on that day—I don't think I ever spoke to him in my life—I have seen him several times with Kaufman—I saw them together in a public-house in Cannon-street-road—there are only two public-houses there—one is the Goldon Lion, and the other I don't know—I have seen the prisoner two or three times, to my recollection, with Kaufman—they had never any whips with them, to my knowledge—I have seen them having a glass of ale together.

Cross-examined. Q. You don't fix any dates for that? A. No—I have other business to attend to.

KAUFMAN KAUFMAN (a prisoner). I was charged, with the last witness, at the last Sessions, with receiving this property, knowing it to be stolen—I was convicted, and Goodman gave evidence against me—Wells brought the whips to me, and Johnson—I first saw Wells on a Saturday afternoon; I can't recollect the date—I showed the sample of whips to Mr. Freeman on the Sunday—Johnson and Wells came to me in Cannon-street-road—Johnson said, "How are you, Mr. Kaufman?"—I said, "I am very well, but I have not the pleasure of knowing you"—he said, "I knew you when you used to keep a beer-shop in Leman-street"—he then asked me, "Are

you a buyer of whips?"—I said, "I never buy any whips, but I know a friend of mine who very likely knows a customer"—Johnson then said, "I think Mr. Freeman would buy them, because he ships"—I then said to him, "You may bring me a sample of them"—Wells was with him at that time—they brought me a sample of twelve whips—I asked them what they would take for them, and Wells said the price would be 60l.,—Johnson said, "I must get a sovereign out of it"—he said there were over 500 whips—he brought a sample in a sack on the Saturday, and on Sunday morning I went to Mr. Freeman and told him—he came and looked at them, and said they would not suit him, as he did not ship he only consigned—on the Monday morning Wells came again with Goodman—I told them they would be no use to me; they would not suit—Wells took the dozen whips away—on Tuesday, I believe, Goodman came again, and said he had got a customer—I met Wells again with Johnson at Gilbert's, the Lord Nelson, I think—he had nothing with him—I told him I should like to have a sample, and he brought one whip in as a sample—the next day Goodman came with a gentleman to see the whips—he said, "It is no use looking at one whip; let me look at some more"—he come the next day, and I gave Wells the whip back again, and told him I could not sell them—he said, "Never mind; I can sell them somewhere else"—on the next morning Goodman's friend came again, and said, "Have you got those whips?"—I said, "No; I think they are sold; I will go and see"—I went to Wells, and found they were not sold—I asked him the very lowest he could take for them—he said 45l.,—next morning he brought a dozen in a paper parcel, and Goodman took them, away—I can't say whether Goodman had an opportunity of seeing Wells—Goodman came round next morning, and said he had sold them for 3s., apiece, and they were to be delivered on Friday, at half-past 3—I went to Mr. Wells the next night, at the Lord Nelson, and he promised to meet me in Brick-lane, which he did, with a boy and a barrow, with a box on it, containing the whips, over 500—we counted them—they were taken to Goodman's house, upstairs—when we got there the officer was there, and I and Goodman were taken in custody—I did not see Wells after that.

Cross-examined. Q. When you were apprehended, and all the whips taken, you were the only person in the room? A. Yes; and Mr. Goodman—he locked the door, and came downstairs, and left me in the room—the whips were in the box at that time—I was not doing anything with them when the policeman caught me—I have not been sentenced—it is deferred.

ALICE CAREY . I am servant to Mrs. Kaufman, and was at the time Mr. Kaufman was taken in custody—I have seen the prisoner at Mr. Kaufman's house—I first saw him on Saturday morning, 13th September—another man came before him, and he opened the door to this man, and let him in—I heard none of the conversation—I saw him again several times after that; between 13th September and the time my master was taken—I never heard the prisoner say at all what he came for.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you at the Police-court? A. Yes—I remember the 13th September very well, because I was on that day making up my account, as I wanted to get some money.

ELIAS KAUFMAN . I live at 23, James-street, Commercial-road, and am a shoe clicker—I am brother of the prisoner, who was convicted last session—I know Wells by sight—I saw him on Saturday evening, 6th September, at the Lord Nelson concert-room, with a man of the name of Johnson, and my brother—they were at the bottom of the hall, all three sitting by a

table together—I was sitting at the side of them—I heard Johnson say he had a lot of riding-whips to sell—I was looking Johnson in the face, and when he saw I was looking, he left off speaking—with that my brother left, to get a cigar, I believe, at the bar—Johnson drank his ale, and said to Wells, "I must have some money to-night"—in reply to that the prisoner said, "Never mind; we have plenty of bread and bacon at home"—they then finished their drink, and went away—I next saw the prisoner on 25th September—I went with a few friends to the Lord Nelson concert-room—I believe that was the day my brother was tried—when I left the concert-room, I and two more friends went down the road for a walk, and in our return, about 11 o'clock, a friend said to me, "Come into the Rodney's Head and have a look"—I just went in, and as I got in and opened the door, who should I see there but the prisoner Wells—he turned round and looked me in the face—I said something to my friend then—I went outside, and told him I should look for a policeman—while I was standing by the door, the prisoner came rushing out, and ran up some by-court—I called out "Stop thief!" and followed him, with the policeman and my two friends, for about half a mile—I caught him, and gave him to the policeman—he was taken to Bethnal-green station—I went and fetched Sergeant Huggett, and he brought a man who identified the prisoner as the man who came out of the empty house.

Cross-examined. Q. You said just now that you believe your brother was tried on the evening you found Wells; don't you know he was tried and convicted that day? A. He was tried; I was not here—the police-officer had not been to me about the matter that very day—I had not seen him after my brother was convicted—I heard out of the Court that he was convicted—I saw Wells by accident; I was not looking for him at all; I gave him into custody, because, after my brother was sentenced, Sergeant Huggett was informed that other persons were concerned in it; and by the description I thought he was the man—some friends out of the Court told me that—I was present at these concert-rooms on 6th September—he was examined at the Police-court—I knew he had had the whips—I did not know that I could give any information then—I did not go to my brother after he was convicted—I hope to assist him in this matter—I went after the other man, Johnson—I met him by accident in the morning, and gave him into custody—he was the partner in it whom I saw with them—he was charged at the Police-court, and discharged, there not being sufficient evidence against him.

FREDERICK COLLINS (Policeman, K 219). On the night of 25th September I was on duty in Bath-street, Bethnal-green at a quarter-past 7—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I looked round, and saw the prisoner running, and about half a dozen persons running after him—I chased him and overtook him—when I stopped him I saw the last witness and several others, and the last witness gave him into my custody—the prisoner said that he had assaulted him and attempted to rob him, and that was why he ran away—it was the persons following him who cried "Stop thief!"—I could not tell who it was—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. Q. When he was apprehended, did he say, "What do they want with me; they have assaulted me"? A. Those were not the words; he said they had assaulted him and attempted to rob him—Kaufman had two or three friends with him.

COURT. Q. Did he use the word "Kaufman" at all? A. No, he did not; he said, "They have assaulted me;" he said, "What do they want with me?" and then something was said about robbing.

JOSEPH HUGGETT . I am a detective officer of the City of London—on the morning of 26th September I went to the Bethnal-green police-station, and there found the prisoner—I took Rayner with me—after waiting some time the acting-inspector fetched two other men—Rayner and I stepped into the charge-room with the sergeant—the two men were brought and placed in an ante-room—Rayner went into that room, I remained behind—after a few minutes he came and said, "It is the middle man;" there were two more besides the prisoner; the prisoner was the middle one—I then went to him, and said, "This man has just identified you; I shall consider it my duty to take you to the City, and charge you on suspicion of being concerned in a large robbery of whips"—he made no reply—I had a cab, and brought him to the City—Elias Kaufman was in the cab with me—on the road to the City, in the cab, the prisoner said, "This is through keeping bad company; through drinking with that fellow's brother," pointing to the witness Kaufman, "and using the same concert-room with him, which has brought me to this"—these (produced) are a sample of the whips that were produced here last session—they were all identified by Mr. Smith—I examined Mr. Smith's premises and the empty house—the supposition is that the thieves were concealed on Mr. Smith's premises in the evening—the gate of Mr. Smith's is fastened with a padlock, but at the interior of the premises there are some tiles which lead from that gate over on to the water-closet, and they could have made their way into the house that way—there is but one door to the house, and that is the door that Rayner pointed out as the one the man came out of, which leads into a large shop.

Cross-examined. Q. When you took Rayner to the police-station it was 2 o'clock in the morning, was it not? A. It was about 2 o'clock when I was called up by the officer Collins, and it was about half-past 2 when we went to Rayner's—Rayner was taken in by the inspector to look at the man; I was in the adjoining room, and then he came out to me—he did not say, "I believe the middle man is the man;" he said, "The middle one is the man;" I am quite sure of that.

COURT. Q. What was the reason Rayner was called up in the middle of the night? A. I do not know—the inspector ought to have sent the man to the City—I think the object was that the man should not be locked up all night unless he was identified.

GUILTY.*†— Confined Eighteen Months.

KAUFMAN was sentenced to Four Months' Imprisonment.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1100
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

Related Material

1100. ROBERT HANKS (17) , Feloniously killing and slaying William Smith; he was also charged on the Coroners Inquisition with the like offence.

MR. SHARPE conducted the prosecution.

JOHN DANIEL HILL . I am house-surgeon at the Free Hospital—on Sunday, 21st September, the deceased, William Smith, was brought there at 2 o'clock—I first saw him at 8 in the morning—he died at half-past 11 on Monday, the 22d—when I first saw him he was perfectly insensible, and suffering from symptoms of apoplexy—I visited him from time to time during the Sunday—he gradually got worse till he died—twenty-four hours after death I made a post-mortem examination of the body—externally I found a small bruise below the left ear, and a small abrasion over each eyelid—I opened the head, removing the top of the skull, and found an effusion of blood on the brain on the right side between the membranes on opening the brain, immediately underneath the effusion, I found a large, clot of blood, in the right ventricles of the brain—I examined the chest and all the other organs, and they were perfectly healthy—that clot of blood

was sufficient to account for death—the immediate cause of death was the extravasation of blood by the pressure on the brain—I think the bruise on the left side would produce the effusion on the opposite side—in my opinion, it was caused by a blow behind the left ear; I have seen the effusion on both sides, but more frequently on the opposite side—in my opinion, the effusion was the effect of a blow or fall, I could not say which—I found no injury beyond what I have stated—I could not connect the extravasation of blood at all with the marks on the eyelids; the skin was just rubbed off; such injuries as those could not produce effusion of the brain—a fall on the front of the head on a kerb-stone might have done it—I should think the abrasion on the eyelids had been done within a few hours before I saw him, and the injury behind the ear the same.

COURT. Q. In your judgment, is it possible that the extravasation of blood might have been caused by the abrasion on the eyelids? A. I should think not—I attribute it to a blow behind the ear, or a fall—the extravasation, and therefore the death, could have been caused by the abrasion of the eyelids; it depends upon what obstacle was in the way; if a person fell forward on a kerbstone it might cause the extravasation of blood on the brain; if an upright projecting object was in the way, and the face struck against it in falling—I think the injury by a fall at the side of the ear would also have produced the blow on the eyelid—effusion takes place very slowly—the man might have walked to the hospital before it took place—sometimes it takes place suddenly, but generally slowly—if it occurs from apoplexy it occurs very quickly, but if from a blow it occurs slowly—when I saw the deceased on Sunday morning he had all the symptoms of apoplexy—supposing there was a violent blow and a fall, and immediate insensibility, and a few hours afterwards the deceased was suffering from all the symptoms of apoplexy, it would be a difficult matter to decide between apoplexy and compression of the brain; when I said apoplexy, I meant compression of the brain; the blood is effused in both cases—if the man recovered, and fell down again, I should take it that that was effusion of the brain—in this case I should attribute the death to a fall; I should attribute it to violence, not to any constitutional cause—I do not think it is doubtful which.

MR. SHARPE. Q. In certain cases of injury, where the injury is very violent, is not the effusion of blood on the brain very sudden, as in apoplexy? A. It depends upon the vessel that is ruptured and the size of the vessel, and it also depends upon whether a man is intoxicated; blood would be circulating more freely if that was the case—Mr. Selwood left the deceased in my charge at 8 in the morning.

Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS. Q. Was there any external injury on the opposite side to where the blow was? No; I have seen cases of apoplexy coming on suddenly from drink, and when a man has been quarrelling—I have seen such cases with older men than the deceased, but not in one so young; the effusion would be the same—in this case there was an effusion between the membranes of the brain—there is never an effusion between the membranes in apoplexy, as far as my observations carry me; in the case of a blow there is.

MR. SHARPE. Q. Do I understand you to say that neither from your practical experience or from your reading have you known a case of effusion proceeding from apoplexy? A. That is so; and in this case there was effusion of blood between the membranes of the brain.

HENRY CORPE SELWOOD . I am house-surgeon at the Free Hospital, Gray's-inn-road—a person named Smith was brought into the hospital between 2

and 3 o'clock on Wednesday morning, 21st September—he was quite insensible—at first I thought he was intoxicated—I know now that he died from an effusion of blood on the brain—I gave up the case to Mr. Hill at 8 o'clock in the morning—I think I was in the room at the post-mortem examination, but I do not recollect seeing the parts examined—the police-constable brought him to the hospital—I do not know his name.

COURT. Q. You do not know what the man died off? A. Not of my own knowledge—I heard afterwards.

GEORGE WHITEHEAD . I live at 14, Bed Lion-yard, Red Lion-street, Clerkenwell, and am a glass-cutter—I was at Mr. Clement's public-house, the Red Lion and Punchbowl, on Saturday, 27th September last, in company with five or six other persons—amongst them was Hanks and the deceased, William Smith—we were on pretty friendly terms, drinking together—we remained there till the house closed—we had been some hours drinking there—all of us were more or less affected with liquor—some of us knew what we were about—the deceased was much the worst of us all—I told him he had better go home—he said he would not till he was as good a man as me—he took off his coat, and I did the same—we both stood up—there was some sparring—I did not strike him at all, nor did he strike me—after a short time he ran away across the Green, and made a sudden effort to get on to the pavement; I followed him—when he got almost to the bottom of the Green something caught his foot on the pavement and he fell like a dead man, on his face—I may have been seven or eight yards behind him at that time—my mother came up then and I was taken away—I know nothing further of the transaction—Hanks had something like a pilot jacket on on this evening, the same colour as my own, I think, dark blue—he had a velvet cap on, turned over on one side with a peak—I won't be sure whether it had a tassel—there may have been one for all I know—the prisoner and the deceased had been on very good terms all the evening.

Cross-examined. Q. The deceased was very drunk indeed, was he not? A. Yes—he fell just as if he had been struck dead.

HENRY CHANTREY . I live at 61, Turnmill-street, and am a glasscutter—on Saturday, 20th September, I came out of the Red Lion and Punchbowl public-house about 12 o'clock, in company with the deceased and the prisoner—we stopped on Clerkenwell-green, and after some little time Whitehead and the deceased had a spar—I saw the deceased run away, and Whitehead's mother came and took him away—I did not see what became of the deceased then—Hanks was in our company after that; he was standing talking to us, when Whitehead's mother took him away—he then left, and I heard a man fall—I can't say where Hanks went—I did not see in what direction—he might have gone up to the deceased—I went up to the man when I heard him fall—I might have been ten yards from him when he fell; I can't say exactly—I took hold of his hand and found it was Smith—I saw Hanks then just running from the deceased—the deceased was insensible; he could not speak—I remained with him until the policeman Browning came up, and took charge of him—Hanks had a black velvet cap on, all the time he was with me; it had no tassel, it had a peak.

Cross-examined. Q. There was nothing very remarkable about the cap, was there? A. No—the deceased was very drunk—I saw no blow struck, and only heard a fall.

DANIEL CLARK . I live at 10, Crescent-avenue, Caledonian-road, and am a carman—I was at the Red Lion and Punchbowl on Saturday, 20th September

—I came out in company with Chantrey, and afterwards went on to the Green with him—Hanks was with us during that time; he remained with us a little time on the Green, and then we missed him, and heard a man fall on the ground—I and Chantrey ran over to see who it was—I saw smith on the ground, and Hanks ran away when we turned round to go to Smith—he turned from the deceased and ran down by the Sessions House, I believe—I know the Lamb and Flag—he ran in that direction, down that narrow turning.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Whitehead and the deceased squaring up? A. I saw Whitehead take off his coat with the deceased while I was standing with Chantrey—I did not see any blow struck—the deceased was drunk.

JOHN PITNEY . I live at 35, Clerkenwell-green, and am a colour-printer—my house looks out on Clerkenwell-green—sometime after 12 o'clock on Sunday morning, 21st September, I heard a disturbance, and looked out—I was on the third-floor—I saw several persons quarrelling, as I thought—two men came from the party and pulled off their coats and commenced sparring—Whitehead made a strike at the deceased, but did not hit him—I knew the deceased; I kept my eye on him—they sparred, and then the deceased ran down the hill, and Whitehead followed him—the deceased ran down to the bottom of the hill and fell forward on his hands and knees—a female then came up and took Whitehead away—the deceased after he fell got up and brushed his trousers and walked up the hill to where he threw his coat down—he picked his coat up, put it on, and was in the act of arranging it, when another man came from this party, who was standing at the other end of the Sessions House, came up to the deceased and said, "You are a b——coward for running away, you talk about fighting; you can't fight a little"—the deceased made some answer, but spoke lower; I did not hear what he said—the man said, "I can box such a b——as you myself," and he up with his fist and struck the deceased a violent blow on the side of his head—I should think it was the left side of the head, it was with his right hand—the deceased shook and fell right back on the back of his head, a tremendont fall—he laid there and groaned, and the man looked round to see if anybody was looking, and ran away, past the Sessions House, and down to the right by the side of the Lamb and Flag public-house—there was nobody but him and the deceased there at that time—I ran after the man but I could not see him—when I came up to the deceased I found him in charge of the constable—the prisoner resembles the man who struck the blow very much—he was a man of about five feet four, and he had a tight fitting cap on his head, on one side—a loose cap over at the side, a darkish cap with a peak—I should not wish to swear to the prisoner—I believe he is the man; I can't swear positively.

COURT. Q. When did you next see him after that? A. On the Sunday night, the evening of that day.

Cross-examined. Q. How far is your window from the place where the man fell? A. Just across the road, it happened under the first lamp post, there are three lamp posts in front of the Sessions House, and it was under the first—I was on the the third-floor, the third window—it is a large house—there was no window above me—I could not distinguish the colour of the cap; he had a dark coat on—I should think there was not a tassel to the cap—the deceased was not very drunk, because he ran down the road.

ELIZABETH NASH . I live at 33, Clerkenwell-green, and am an oyster-shopkeeper

—after 12 o'clock on Sunday morning, 21st September last, I was standing at my door, and saw a mob of persons, and two of them were in their shirt sleeves attempting to fight—the deceased, as soon as he got clear of the man that was fighting him, ran away, and as he passed me he turned his head over his shoulder, and said to the man who was running after him, "You won't catch me"—he did not get much further when he fell forward on the pavement flat on his face and stomach—he had only got two houses past me when he fell in that way—he got up and went back again to the parties, brushing the dirt off his arms and knees as he went across the road—when he got across, a man said, "You are a fool; put your coat on"—he was putting his coat on, and another man came up and said with an oath to him, "If he won't, I will," and struck him, and he fell backwards very heavily; the man then ran away—I could not say whether the prisoner is the man—I was not near enongh to him—I did not remark what kind of a cap he had on—I was on the other side of the road—I afterwards went up to the deceased—they sent across to me for water, and I sent it by my son, and I went across to look at him two or three times.

Cross-examined. Q. When you saw the deceased fall, he struck his foot against something, did he not? A. No; I don't think so—it was on the flat pavement going down the hill.

GEORGE BROWNING (Police-sergeant, G 14). On the morning of Sunday, 21st September, in consequence of information I received, I went to Clerkenwell-green, and there found Smith lying on the ground in a state of insensibility—the witness Chantrey came up directly after me—I took charge of the deceased—he was conveyed to the Free Hospital, Gray's-inn-road, some time after 2 o'clock—I think Mr. Selwood, the surgeon, attended him first—I sent a constable on with the deceased while I endeavoured to find out who it was—I did not convey him there myself—that constable is here, in another case—it was through the information of the witnesses that I took the prisoner.

JOB SMITH . I am the father of the deceased his same was William Smith—on Wednesday, the 24th, in consequence of what I saw in the newspaper, I went to Gray's-inn-hospital, and there saw the body of my son—he was twenty-four years of age.

GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his king in drink and not quite himself at the time. Confined Twelve Months

NEW COURT.—Thursday, October 30th; Friday, October 31st; and

part of OLD COURT.—Saturday, November 1st, 1862.



Before Mr. Baron Martin.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1101
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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1101. WILLIAM MCCREA (21) , Feloniously cutting and wounding George Paveley, on the High Seas, with intent to murder him.

MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.

ALEXANDER SMALL . I am master of the ship Northumberland—on 19th September, she was on the voyage from Madras to London—I heard a noise that morning near the galley, after breakfast—I went to the cook's house, and saw the prisoner on top of the steward, and blood flowing from the steward's forehead—I inquired of the parties who had hold of the prisoner's

hands what was the matter; they said that he had lifted the mall from the deck and taken a swinging blow at George Paveley's forehead—this is the mall (produced)—here is blood upon it—the steward said, "For God's sake, Captain Small, try and stop the blood, for I am getting weak"—I took him aft, dipped a towel in water, and stopped the blood—the wound was on his forehead, just by the hair—I secured the prisoner, and ordered him to be searched—one of my cabin table-knives was taken from his pocket.

Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Had he threatened to stab himself? A. Yes; previously—I saw nothing eccentric in his manners throughout—he was a passenger—he told me that the steward had attempted to poison him—I have been given to understand that he has been an officer in the army—this happened just before we arrived in the English Channel; ten days before we arrived in port—he gave numbers of bills of exchange to the steward and the men—mine are sealed up in an envelope—one is for a million, and another for two millions—he wished to destroy the two million one, and give me one for one million—he has been giving them away to the crew.

GEORGE PAVELEY . I am steward on board the Northumberland—on 19th December, I was in the galley preparing the dinner—the carpenter was splitting up some wood outside the galley door—I took up a piece and put it on the fire—the prisoner came forward, and said, "Well, Chippey, what are you about?"—the carpenter said, "I am splitting some wood to cook your dinner," and laid the mall down and went out; and, as I was leaving the cabin door, the prisoner swung the mall and struck me on the head—I closed with him, and we struggled together.


DR. FORBES WINSLOW . I am a physician, of Cavendish-square—I saw the prisoner on 17th October, and have not seen him since—his state of mind on 17th October was not such as to enable him to reason or form a judgment upon matters—he is a man of undoubtedly very weak intellect—I have heard from the steward the description of what took place on this occasion, and, judging from what I have observed of his state, and his own description of the circumstances which led to the assault, I have no doubt that he was not at the time in a condition to appreciate in a healthy way what he was doing.

COURT. Q. Am I to understand that, in your judgment, he did not know at that time that he was doing wrong in striking the blow? A. He was under a delusion that the steward and carpenter were in conspiracy against him, and attempting to poison him—his mind was not in a healthy condition at that time, judging from his own representations.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.

The prisoner's brother-in-law stated that he was only of age last December, and that his former guardians would continue to take care of him.To enter into his own recognizances in 100l., and two securities in 50l. each, to come up and receive judgment if called upon.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1102
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

1102. DAVID BRAUN (53), and BENJAMIN KORTOSKE (42) , Unlawfully, after being adjudged bankrupts, wilfully falsifying their books, with intent to defraud their creditors. Other Counts, for conspiring together and for conspiring with other persons with a like intent.


Prosecution; and MR. COLLIER, Q.C. and MR. GIFFARD the Defence.

Upon the prisoner being called upon to plead, MR. COLLIER applied to the

Court to quash the indictment on the ground that it contained the large number of twenty-eight counts, which were of such a vague description that it was impossible to defend the prisoners, and contended that the separate charges ought to have been the subject of different indictments. (See "Young and others v. The King in Error," Third Term Reports). MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE contended that, although no such charge as a fraudulent bankruptcy was known to the law, a bankrupt might commit avariety of offences against the Bankruptcy Law; that a conspiracy to defraud the creditors was here charged, and each charge was an element in that fraud; that concealment of goods, disposing of goods, and alterations in the books, were each offences recognised by the criminal law, and they all were overt acts which combined to form one offence, namely, a conspiracy to defraud. MR. METCALFE, on the same side, urged that, if the indictment had simply charged a conspiracy to defraud, the defendants would have applied for the particulars, which would have been the very particulars contained in this Indictment. THE COURT, having consulted Mr. Avory, the Clerk of Arraigns, as to the practice in such cases, declined to quash the indictment without hearing the facts. The prisoner then pleaded Not Guilty.

HENRY WRIGHT . I am clerk to one of the messengers of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the prisoners' bankruptcy from that Court—this is a petition for a private arrangement under the sanction of the Court, filed on 19th September, 1861 (read)—the statement of affairs was field in January, 1862—it was not filed with the petition for arrangement—this is the adjudication of bankruptcy—(This was dated 13th January, 1862, and stated that, as the defendants' petition was not assented to by three-fifths of their creditors, the Court adjudged them bankrupts. The appointment of assignees, dated 24th January, 1862, was also read.)

ALFRED WILSON . I am clerk to Messrs. Sole and Turner, the solicitors to the assignees—I produce the Gazette of 14th January, 1862, in which the adjudication of bankruptcy is advertised (read).

SAMUEL LOWRIE . I am a member of the firm of Truman, Hitchcock, and Co., warehousemen, of Wood-street, Cheapside, and am one of the creditors' assignees—I have known the prisoners about eleven or twelve years—they have been in the habit of dealing with us for goods throughout that period—they owe us under the bankruptcy about l,035l., or somewhere there-abouts—I was acquainted with the firm of Kortoske Brothers in Canada—I first heard of them about 1854 or 1855—we understood the component members of that firm to be Kortoske Brothers and Mr. Keppel Fox; not the prisoner Kortoske—I do not know whether there were two or three Kortoskes—we knew them under the general name of Kortoske Brothers—how many composed the firm, I never knew—I am aware that during the early part of the prisoners' dealings with us he sent the goods he purchased of us to that firm, and we had some dealings with the Canada firm direct, not passing through the prisoners' house—those dealings commenced about the beginning of the year 1857, and went down to the autumn of that year, when the American panic set in; when, acting on a general principle of our business not to have shipping accounts at that time, I intimated to the person who represented himself to be Fox, to close the account, and that we should require, as it had been up to that period, the responsibility of Braun and Kortoske on this side—I communicated that by word of mouth—I called on Fox, who at that time had an office in Aldermanbury-postern, and said to him that, acting on a general principle of our business, we being almost entirely a home-trade house, must decline direct transactions with the Canadian firm, and should require a responsible house on this side, or

cash, and should be perfectly satisfied with Messrs, Braun and Kortoske, of London-wall, as we had heretofore; charging the goods, in point of fact, to them—we then closed the account with the Canada house, and never resumed it in a direct form—we continued our sales to the prisoners with a knowledge that they would ship to the Canada house themselves, and be responsible to us—we continued to do that until a very recent date before they stopped payment—I ought perhaps to state that the bulk of the goods for which we are creditors under the bankruptcy, were supplied to them in the spring of 1861, they suspending on 3d September, 1861—it was our habit to draw on the prisoners for the goods we sold, and down to the early part of 1861 those acceptances were met with unfailing punctuality, for until they suspended payment on 3d September they never asked an hour's grace—in May, 1861, we found that the bills they owed us exceeded 1,000l., and, in consequence of that, on 14th May, I addressed a letter to the firm, it being a principle of our house to limit drawing credits—I have a copy of it here in our letter-book—(This was dated 14th May, 1861, from the witness to the defendants, requesting them, at their account exceeded 1,000l., to suspend further orders until some part of that amount was written, off)—in consequence of that letter, Braun called upon me, and we had some conversation as to their dealings with the Canada house, and the state of our debt—we inclosed in that letter a statement of the account, by which he might see for himself, and he called and said that he was much surprised to find that the shipping part of the account was so large; that he was scarcely aware of it, but that Messrs. Kortoske Brothers, of Canada, had represented that they were in a flourishing condition on the other side, and had remitted to them, during the year 1860, about 24,000l., but had made no remittance since January I understood him, that being in May—I still adhered to my decision and Braun left me—I deemed it a very liberal credit to give the house, our firm being a home-trade concern almost exclusively—I did not know at that time that Mr. Fox had retired from the Canada firm—I never knew that until long after the suspension—the account was then full; but if they had been prepared to discount part of the account, on the payment of that bill on 4th September, we should have been open again to that extent—there were acceptances running—a bill of theirs for 682l., odd came due on 4th September—I believe that was the very largest bill in one lump that we ever had in the twelve years—they suspended on 3d September, and that bill was never paid—Mr. Hackwood, of the firm of Linklater and Hackwood, called on me on the evening of the 3d, and represented himself as solicitor to the bankrupts—in consequence of the interview with him and Mr. Ladbury, I went, I believe, on the next day, the 4th, to their place of business, at London-wall, and found Mr. Braun and a gentleman who I had not the pleasure of knowing until this case, and who he introduced as Mr. Callisher, Kortoske's father-in-law—I understood his name to be Matthew—I had, in his presence, a conversation with Braun, and said that I was very sorry to find that they were obliged to suspend payment, he having intimated not very long ago that they were in a very good state—he replied that he had no doubt whatever, that if the debt due to them in Canada, which was a very heavy one, should turn out good, they had a surplus of several thousand pounds, and it would be merely a temporal arrangement for them—he said, also, that he had not had much to do with the books himself, and that Mr. Kortoske, his partner, had gone to Canada to look after this heavy debt—that is the prisoner Kortoske—I do not thing he mentioned what the amount of it was—while I was there, somebody applied to see Braun—I do

not know who, but I think it was a creditor, from his manner—Braun appeared very nervous throughout the interview, and very agitated—he was evidently averse to see the party, but he did not say so—Callisher said to Braun, "What are you afraid of; are not you a man?" or words to that effect—I do not remember that Braun made any answer—I do not think he saw the party who wanted the interview while I was there—a meeting of creditors was called on 19th September following, at our City rooms for holding those public meetings—I attended it—neither of the prisoners were there—they were represented by Mr. Linklater—Kortoske at that time was said to be out in Canada—at my previous interview with Braun I told him I called in consequence of the communication of Mr. Hackwood—I saw Kortoske again in this country, to the best of my belief about the middle of November, when he returned—I then saw him at the office of Messrs. Ladbury and Co. the accountants, and we had a lengthened interview, at which we made most express and particular inquiries (myself and my colleagues appointed by the committee of creditors, of whom I was one) as to what he had been doing in Canada, and how it was he came to go out without coming to consult any creditor—we begged him to give us the fullest informasion in his power as to the estate of Kortoske Brothers, on the other side, it being so large a component of our estate here—he gave us substantially no information about that house, after two hours' hard, and I regret to add, ineffectual attempts to get information—we knew at the first meeting that 36,000l., was due from the Canada firm—I asked him whether he had seen his brothers when abroad—he said that he had seen them, and had done his best to get information, and understood that they had promised detailed accounts through the accountant, Mr. Court, of Montreal, to whom a power of Attorney had been sent out by the official assignee, and that when those accounts came he would look them over, and see if they had omitted anything, when he should possibly be able to give some information—at that interview Mr. Baggally and Mr. Chadwick, my solicitor, and the Committee, and Mr. Sole, of Aldermanbury, were all present—knowing that large quantities of goods professed to have been sent through their house to Canada, I asked him many times what had become of them, and pressed him closely on that point—it was the gist of our inquiry—he said that he was unable to obtain much information, but he thought that goods had been deposited with various parties—we tried hard to get the names, but could not—he said that he went out to Canada to look after the large debt due to himself and partner—I told him that it would have been better if he had consulted some creditors before going; as a more usual proceeding—I asked him many times what chance there was of the debt being paid—he said, that as a power of attorney had been delegated to Mr. Court, in Canada, by the official assignee, he thought he was relieved from further duties, and therefore he at once came home—he said that he understood the firm in Canada were willing to make an assignment of their estate and effects, and pressed us to take it—we pressed him many times at that interview to make an offer of compensation to the creditors, which he declined—as a reason for urging him to make an offer, I told him that he could deal so much better with his brothers than we could—all this was after the September petition for arrangement—after it had been turned into bankruptcy, and I became an assignee, I again saw the prisoner, Kortoske, with Mr. Linklater and Mr. Ladbury, on 24th January—I do not think Braun was there—Kortoske made no communication about the assets that day that I remember—that day was the choice of assignees at the Court of Bankruptcy—I was over at the Court of

Bankruptcy, and Kortoske came there with Mr. Linklater, and brought a parcel, which he said contained precious stones, and gave them into the care of Mr. Ladbury, the accountant, in my presence, saying that he had others as well, at London-wall, and the total value of the whole, including those at London-wall, and likewise some out with his two brothers, would be about 900l.,—the others which he mentioned were subsequently given up—from 19th September, when the petition for an arrangement was filed, down to that day, I had never heard a syllable about that property—I did not know that they had any dealings in precious stones, or I should have had no dealings with them—we had a meeting of assignees at Mr. Ladbury'a office early in February—I believe it was the 5th—I sent for Kortoske to attend me in my capacity of assignee—Mr. Boggallay and myself were there, and likewise Mr. Chadwick—we made the fullest inquiry of him respecting the estate of Kortoske Brothers, in Canada—the inquiry lasted, I believe, five hours, but we learned, I believe, substantially nothing—we heard nothing at that time from either of the prisoners respecting Bernard Kortoske, but in consequence of a letter, informing us that Bernard was over, the assignees sent for Kortoske to the office of Sole and Turner, the solicitors, and told him that we were surprised to hear that his brother Bernard had come from Canada, as had previously promised that as soon as he arrived he would let us know, and we understood he had been in the country a fortnight or three weeks without letting us know—he appeared very nervous, and said that his brother Bernard should come round to me on the evening of that day, which he did—this was some time in February, 1862—it was then arranged that a meeting should be held at Messrs. Sole and Turner's office, of Benjamin Kortoske, the bankrupt, and Bernard, his brother, and on the following morning they came—Mr. Ladbury was present, and Mr. Baggallay and myself—a note of the conversation which transpired was taken, partly by Mr. Turner and partly by Mr. Ladbory—I had no official powers to look at the bankrupt's books; but about the middle, or latter end of January, 1862, I made a most critical examination of them—I had not then looked at them for several months—I did not, on the last occasion, see all the books which I had seen on the first occasion—I looked at them at Mr. Ladbury's office, and likewise at the solicitor's, and I missed a journal which I had before seen at Mr. Ladbury's—we went to Mr. Graham, the official assignee, whose clerk assisted us, and we made a search, but as far as I know it has not been found to this hour—it is, I should say, a book of very great importance.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. I think you say that you had dealings with Braun and Kortoske eleven or twelve years? A. Yet; I have heard that the firm hat existed nearly twenty years, but can only speak from the introduction of the account in February, 1850—at that time they were not new men, but an established firm—I know that Mr. Braun has attended to the manufacturing department chiefly, but not solely—he told me that he knew a little about the books—he had, I believe, very little to do with posting them—I do not know his writing, and cannot say what entries are his—he was surprised the first time I saw him as to the extent of the shipping account—I am aware that, as far as the foreign affairs of the firm are concerned, Kortoske was the principal person, but partners generally take a section of the business—he was always on the premises—the manufacture was carried on upon the premises—they carried on a considerable business at the origin of our account—it was a comparatively light account, but it seemed steadily to grow, until it arrived at the period I have

mentioned—we were concerned principally in the home trade—it was decidedly an increasing business that they carried on up to she time of their stoppage—the increase, in 1861, bore no conceivable proportion to the increase before, but exceeded it four or five fold—it clearly increased—Mr. Keppel Fox had an office in Aldermanbury in 1857—he had it there one or two years, I think—he was represented as a member of the firm of Kortoske Brothers—I have had very few interviews with him, and limited to that time—I have not seen him for several years.

Q. He is not a myth, then, as my friend says; was it his ghost or himself? A. I saw his writable self on that occasion in 1857, but I am not aware that that office has been kept in Aldermanbury of late years—Fox represented himself to be the resident partner of the firm of Kortoske Brothers, of Canada, acting here as such—the last interview I had with him was about November, 1857, when I declined to have more to do with him, in consequence of the American panic—they paid their bills; at least, they were paid in due course—I knew that Kortoske in Canada did draw on Kortoske in London, or they would not have obtained much to my certain knowledge: other houses have done the same thing—we require a responsible house on this side of the water—I am aware that for some years before 1861 there had been considerable transactions between Kortoske in Canada and Braun and Kortoske here.

Q. Are you aware that large sums had been raised by Braun and Kortoske here, for Kortoske in Canada? A. I only know it from Braun himself—I have had no opportunities of looking at the books—I am utterly unable to make out 24,000l., in 1860—I believe the indebtedness of Braun and Kortoske, in 1859, was 9,000l.; in 1860, 10,700l.,—I paid great attention to the figures, and at the end of August, 1861, 35,000l., or 36,000l.,—speaking in round numbers, their indebtedness increased 25,000l.,—the 10,000l., which they owed at the beginning of 1861 has all been cleared off—the account of Fox and Co., due at the end of 1860, was wiped off by remittances in 1861—a fresh score then began, which has not been paid—I do not know how much was received in 1859 or 1860, through the hands of Kortoske Brothers in Canada—we allowed Braun and Korteske a commission—I think it was 2 per cent.—we rather demurred, but they put the screw on, and we acceded—they put it to us that it would not pay them unless we did—they bought goods of us on their own credit, and we allowed them 2 per cent. off that as discount—in trade, it is customary to allow some little discount—the prisoners were our direct debtors, and we allowed them 2 per cent. discount on goods to be sent to Kortoske Brothers—I know, on the part of the assignees, that Kortoske Brothers in Canada have been released, subject to certain conditions, those being that there was no fraud—we got as much of their estate as we could, which, I am sorry to say, was not much—I ought to state that we resisted taking that assignment for a long period, until we found that we should get that or get nothing—I heard that Kortoske in Canada had employed a solicitor out there—they wanted a discharge, and we hesitated several months—I do not know whether the Canadian creditors got paid in full white we were hesitating—I do not know that they had any creditors whatever—I know that there is no bankrupt law in Canada—we did employ Mr. Court, an accountant, in Canada—I am not aware of his being here to-day—he was over in England early after the bankruptcy, and I saw him then—he was examined at the Bankruptcy Court, and I saw him there—letters from him have been received by Messrs. sole and Turner, who have been acting for the creditors.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Mr. Court is not here, but Mr. Mackintosh, his partner, is, I believe? A. I do not know—I never saw him in my life—the last letter I saw was that the estate of the Canadian firm would not pay a shilling in the pound, and that was subject to realization—I do not expect there will be one penny-piece come to the pocket of any creditor.

JOHN BAGGALLAY . I am a partner in the firm of Baggallay, Westall, and Co. warehousemen, of Love-lane—we are creditors to the estate for l,500l., or 1,600l—that represents nearly, or quite, the whole of the goods in 1860 and 1861—we did not receive any remittances at all during 1861, but the acceptances were paid—we are creditors of the prisoners, of the people here—we had communications with them after the bankruptcy, and examined their books as minutely as we could—I remember well noticing an invoice having reference to Martigny's—I can hardly tax my memory for the date, but early in this year—it was at the office of Ladbury and Parrinton—I do not think I mentioned it to either of the bankrupts at the time—I have searched for that document since in the same book, and it is not there—I was present at a meeting when Bernard Kortoske from Canada was present—I heard the inquiries that were made—I was present the whole time—I believe there was only one examination—it was about the disposal of the precious stones—Benjamin was present—he sat next to me—I do not know how the conversation commenced.

GEORGE HERBERT LADBURY . I am an accountant, in partnership with another gentleman, at 16, King-street, Cheapside—On 3d September, 1861, I saw Braun at London-wall—I had also seen him on 1st September, at the premises—I went, at the request of Messrs. Truman and Co. the creditors, to investigate the affairs—Kortoske was not there: Braun said that he had gone to Canada—there was no clerk there: Braun said that he had gone for a holiday, and they could not tell his address—I saw Mrs. Kortoske the next day—Braun could give me no information—next day, 4th September, I saw Mr. Callisher, senior, there; Kortoske's father-in-law—I saw, I think, three books there, the bought ledger, the sold ledger, and the daily entry of sales, or journal, which is not to be found now—I have not searched for it, or seen it—the books pass from one person to another—from those three books I made out a statement of affairs—this (produced) is a copy of it—Mr. Braun adopted it at the meeting of creditors.

MR. COLLIER. Q. Did not Mr. Kortoske tell you that you had made several mistakes in it? A. Never—(This statement being read, showed a balance of 40,605l., 0s., 6d. due to the creditors.)

MR. METCALFE. Q. That leaves the bad debts rather over 3,000l.,? A. Yes; I was not, at that time, told of any goods outstanding, or stock not on the premises, nor of any stock at Wilhelms'—I was not told of any precious stones: I have not included any in this list I, have presumed that this is all—this 2,963l., is all the stock I heard of—in November, 1861, Bernard Kortoske returned, and I saw him with Mr. Baggallay, and other gentlemen—he was asked what had become of the great mass of the goods which had gone but to Canada—he gave no definite answer—he said a great many of them were pledged, but when we had Mr. Court's account, he would tell us whether any had been concealed, or whether all had been divulged, and that if we would give a release at once, his brothers would execute an assignment—that was the first I heard of a release to the Canadian people—I mean a release from the assignees to the Canadian people, they being debtors—I was present on 5th February, 1862, when Kortoske attended to give information—we got no information about the state of affairs; only about the stones—the meeting

lasted a very short time: the fact is, the assignees were disgusted with it—I am speaking of Bernard Kortoske—Benjamin was there' also—I had met Benjamin one day, and he said that if Mr. Bernard Kortoske were there he could give us information, and he would bring him to the assignees—I said, "How is it you have not brought him to our office; he has been here, I understand, a fortnight?"—he said that he had been in Manchester, and I heard that he had—he subsequently made an appointment that he should come—I took down part of Bernard's statement when he came—they came together—Benjamin did not say anything about Bernard, but allowed him to tell his own story—Mr. Turner had made an appointment for them to meet at his office, and accordingly I went, and there we met Mr. Benjamin and Mr. Bernard—Benjamin did not interfere during the statement that Bernard was making; he sat down—I am not aware that he made any remarks—Barnard gave an account of the goods he bought when he came to London, and of the precious stones which he took away.—(MR. COLLIER objected that this was not evidence against the prisoner. MR. SERGEANT BALLANTINE contended that what was stated in Benjamin's presence, he not contradicting it, and being under no restraint, was evidence against him. THE COURT, having read the statement proposed to be given, in Mr. Serjeant Ballantine's brief, considered that part was evidence, but that a great deal of it was not; upon which MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE withdrew it)—after the time I have been speaking of, I was employed as accountant to the creditors under the bankruptcy—I then made a full examination of the bankrupt's books, and particularly of the account of Kortoske Brothers, which commences in August 1852, up to 1855—the total amount of shipments, in 1852, are about 3,600l.,—509l., worth of goods were consigned by Braun and Kortoske to Kortoske Brothers in 1852; 2,546l., in 1853; 6,056l., in 1854; and in 1855, to Keppel Fox and Co. 4,538l.,—I find that account in the books transferred from Kortoske Brothers to Keppel Fox—Keppel is a Christian name—in 1856, the amount is 7,741l., still to Keppel Fox and Co.; in 1857, it is 578l.; in 1858, 1,693l.; in 1859, 7,955l.; and in 1860, 7,893l.; those are the whole shipments of 1858, 1859, and 1860—Messrs. Braun appear to have paid money for Keppel Fox and Co. for goods shipped out, or paid some of their creditors for them—a portion of that is in 1860—the account terminates in 1860, and a balance is struck; and in 1861, the account of Kortoske Brothers begins again—the account in 1861, for the eight months up to September, is 36,587l., more than four times the amount of any previous year—at the end of 1860, when the account changes, the debt due by Fox and Co. to Braun and Kortoske is 8,879l.,—the interest is 1,347l., and commission 500l., making the total debt 10,727l.,—I can trace, by the books, that that interest had been accruing from 1855; the debt had been accumulating for years, the interest will show that—the amount of money remitted in 1861 was 1,300l.,—the amount remitted to Kortoske Brothers, by Braun and Kortoske was nearly 12,000l.,—that paid off the whole of Keppel Fox's credit—1,300l., is put to Keppel Fox's credit—that 1,300l., is the only thing that is put against the account—at the end of June they were indebted 20,797l.; notwithstanding that debt, they sent in July, 11,363l.; and August, 8,350l.; so increasing the debt from 20,000l., to 35,000l.,—I do not find in the books any security for Fox and Co. and I have never heard of any—the caps and goods generally disposed of in London, in 1861, if about 15,000l.: I speak from the woks—out of that amount, Wilhelms had, I think, about 4,500l.,—that includes all the goods I see entered in the books to Wilhelme—the books

are all here, but some goods have been in his hands which are not in the books; some Spanish stripes were in his hands, and are not in the books—the amounts to Jones Brothers are merely cash matters—Mr. Henry Callisher's amount is 1,380l.; and Tallerman's, 472l.,—there are no other people who carry on business in that particular line, except Brent Brothers, 396l.,—that if about 6,000l., altogether—I am sure that the total amounts sold and got rid of in London, are 15,000l.; the whole amount purchased in London is nearly 52,000l.,—I had nothing to do with making the bankrupt's balance-sheet—on comparing the account I subsequently took with that which I first took, I found that goods had been brought into stock of which I was not informed at first—I do not know to what extent—I did not personally superintend it, but my clerk told me that there were some—no stones were mentioned in the first statement—I find no stones mentioned in the books at all—I received them on the day they were given up to the assignees—that was nearly three months after my investigation of the affairs—I had frequently seen Kortoske, as well as Braun—there were no Spanish stripes in the stock book, I only knew of them from what my clerk told me—when I first saw the ledger, in September, 1861, Wilhelms was a debtor for 785l., 6s., 8d., and now he is down as a debtor for 558l., making a difference of 227l., 6s., 8d.,—the last credit is August 29th, 233l.,—the preceding one is May 28th, 133l.,—the total is 542l., 5s., 8d.,—Mr. Tallerman was at first down as a debtor for 164l., 5s., 6d., but now the account has been exactly balanced by introducing a "1" before "70," making it 170, and adding 64l., 5s., 4d., which is called "Contra, P. L.," which means private ledger—the 170 was formerly 70, and the 64l., 5s., 6d., was not there at all; and I have not been able to trace it into any book—the "70" was in light-coloured ink—up to last Saturday night the "1" was very dark sad the "70" very pale—the 64l., 5s., 4d., was also dark, corresponding with the "I"—the figures above were light, as the "70" was—on Monday, Mr. Butler, the bankrupts' clerk, came to my office to look at the books—he has been very active in assisting them, and has had access to the books every day—I have seen him over the books, writing, at the warehouse, but I told him distinctly not to write here—on Monday evening I looked at the ledger and saw that the "70" was blackened over to make it correspond with the "I;" but it is not quite complete, for the tail of the "7" remains light still—no one but Mr. Butler had had access to the books—between the time when I first saw the books and took the accounts, and the time when the I was added to the "70," the books had been with the official assignee; and before that, in the hands of the bankrupts, for six weeks or two months—the bankrupts were daily at the official assignee's, and had access to the books there—Tallerman's account is exactly balanced by the 170—it is transferred from Tallerman's to Leverson's, and it balances both accounts exactly—in this private ledger (produced) I find the 64l., 5s., 4d., transferred from the one account to the other—it is put to the credit of Leverson, and also the 170l.,—both those sums are entered in the public ledger to the credit of Tallerman, and transferred to the private ledger to the debit of Leverson, since I first saw the books—I find the letters "P.L." here, and I must assume that that entry was made first; that they got the bills from Tallerman first—I follow the account by the ledger-folio here, "B 57"—the effect of this is, that it balances each of these accounts even to a penny—other accounts have also been transferred since I first saw them—Henry Callisher's has been altered, but only a few shillings—the account of Henry Morris, of the Minories, is balanced exactly—he was a debtor for

113l.,—this account of Blew Jones, folio 291, is now balanced exactly—he was originally a debtor for 14l., 9s.; he is now a creditor for 330l., 10s., 9d.,

MR. COLLIER. Q. Tell me how it appears upon them books that Jones Brothers are made creditors for 300l., odd? A. It is in the bankrupt's balance-sheet, and it appeared so in the day book—it does not appear so now, and I am rather surprised at it—I took it out in my own book from this book—it is balanced now, to my surprise—it was 330l., 10s., 9d., in this book.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Look at the private ledger, page 42, what you call the supplemental ledger? A. I have not the supplemental ledger; it belongs to the bankrupt; I have never seen it—these figures have been altered—the account is perfectly balanced—I made a mistake yesterday; I looked at the consignment account instead of Wilhelms'—I see he is only a debtor of 42l., 5s., 11d., instead of 785l.,—where I find alterations in the accounts, I do not think there are any instances of amendments in favour of the estate—by the balance-sheet filed in bankruptcy, Henry Callisher appears as a creditor for 656l., 13s., 11d., and Jones Brothers for 330l., 10s., 9d.,—it is folio 16; the two last items—here it a memorandum, "Supplementary ledger, page 42"—they are made a part by themselves, after the others have been drawn off—I have never seen the ledger to which this refers—the supplementary ledger was made by the bankrupt's accountant—the effect of those two entries is to make an additional claim, one at 330l., and the other 656l.,—here are three accounts in Wilhelms' name, in the general ledger; one is Barron and Dummell, a shipping account; then Wilhelms' own account, bought and sold; and then Wilhelms' again, on account of Harris, of Melbourne; two consignment accounts and one bought and sold—the entries do not follow regularly; the dates are not all regular—in the first account, May 24th comes after August 2d, and in the second account May and July come after August—the whole accounts are in 1861; they terminate in August—in the third account, May 24th comes after July—in Harris's account the dates are May 11th, 26th, August 5th, May 24th, July 5th, August 1st—I find great difficulty, as an accountant, in making out the cash account, because there are so many "Contras"—I cannot in all cases trace the word "Contra" when it arises—the ordinary trade accounts are not regularly kept.

Q. I am not speaking of Wilhelms', but the ordinary accounts? A. Yes; they are properly kept—I had no trouble there at all; but in the accounts of Wilhelms, Blew Jones, Tallerman, and Leverson, and several others, I had—they are all confused, and are not kept in a fair and tradesman-like way—this private ledger refers to other accounts besides those I have spoken of just now; to the stones, and to bills, and cash, but not to the ordinary mercantile business at all—it contains cash accounts with persons with whom they do not appear to have any trade transactions—I know that because I have looked at it—I judge from the books that they would appear there, and I do not find them in the books—I am not aware of any transactions about stones—there is one account here, "To goods"—it does not say stones, but I learn afterwards that it is stones—it is at page 46 of the ledger—it is H. Callisher's—it is carried out in the private ledger as goods—there is one entire page—the bankrupt told me himself that they were stones—the accounts of Wilhelms, and Callisher, and the others, are in the private ledger—the earliest date at which the alterations I speak of could have been made is, I suppose, about January, 1862, but I have no means of telling about what time in January—the books were at the bankrupt's premises,

and they had access to them—I did not first see them in January—I am sure they were not altered at the end of September—according to the books, there appear to have been sixty-two new creditors in 1861; that is, persons who have never received any money at all—I cannot tell you the number, but I think more than half were in July and August—those creditors represent 11,900l., and they have never received one shilling—they all appear in the books—there is a large class whose new debts are in 1861, and also a number who have received one small payment—I did not take the items out to see who had been paid—Fox's account goes on in the ledger from January, 1861, to March—(THE COURT examined the ledger, and stated that a pen had been run through several pages of it, but that there were no erasures)—beginning from January and going through all the items, I find that the same items are transferred into the name of Kortoske Brothers—the name in changed, but the balance from the old account of Fox and Co. is not continued—the cash has not been transferred—the cash which came from this book ought to have gone into this.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. If I understand right, it was in September, 1861, you were applied to? A. It was; and I went to the premises and saw the books the same evening; 3d September—Mr. Kortoske had not gone to Canada then, but he was not there; he had left—he, I believe, subsequently went to Canada, and returned—Mr. Braun only was there; and I was informed that he attended exclusively to the manufacturing department—he had nothing to do with the books—I have been told that he is not able to do much more than sign his name, and I believe it to be a fact—I do not think he is capable of keeping accounts, and I do not think he understands them—I know that Kortoske and his clerks managed all the export trade, except the manufacturing—I do not think Mr. Braun could give me any more information than about the goods in the warehouse—it was shortly after that that I made the first statement that was appended to the petition for a private arrangement—that was before Kortoske returned—I made it from such materials as I could, in his absence—since I made the account, and Kortoske has returned, the assets of the estate have been increased by the precious stones, and by the return of the Spanish stripes—those are not included in my return of assets—some carpeting has, I believe, also been added—Spanish stripes are cotton goods—I am not aware of assets to the amount of nearly 2,000l., being added since—the debts have lesseued, and the property has increased by 400l., or 500l.,—I take the stock added since at 300l., and the stones at about 200l.,—that is the value I put upon them—I have not taken pains to value them, but I know what the goods realized, and I heard Mr. Hennell give an opinion about the stones—I take my valuation from him—we sold the Spanish stripes—we thought we should lose about 30 per cent. and taking off that 30 per cent., they come to about 300l.,—I do not know the amount of the carpeting—when I spoke of the debts last night, I took Wilhelms' as one of those, at 500l., odd, but I only calculated him at 41l.,—I do not know that Wilhelms has settled that debt, and got his discharge from the assignees—in addition to the increase in the shipments from 1860 to 1861 of 7,893l., which represents the amount of goods given by them to the firm in Canada, they paid on account of Kortoske, in 1860, 5,507l.,—those two sums make 13,400l.,—they paid for them in this year—I am quite certain of my accuracy there, because the account balances exactly with the ledger—this is the ledger, and here is the account—Fox and Co.'s account is not in the large ledger; it is transferred in December, 1860—I take the 13,400l., not from the old ledger,

but from Fox and Co.'s account—that sum represents payments for goods on account of Fox and Co.—that represents the whole transactions of the year, but not bill transactions as well—I understand it to include goods shipped and bought, and payments made on their account to large wholesale houses, but I do not think it would include bills accepted in their behalf—I know of no bill transactions in addition—I have not particularly looked to see, but I do not anticipate that there are any—I ascertained that, in 1860, Fox and Co. remitted 13,964l., which was all they were liable for in 1860—I do not consider that Kortoske Brothers were in existence in 1860, because that account commenced in 1861—there was no separate account in 1860 with Kortoske Brothers—there was a remittance in 1860 when only one account existed—the 13,000l., odd was to the general account—at the end of 1860 there was a balance, including interest, of 10,700l.,—in 1864 they received a further remittance of upwards of 12,000l., with which they wrote off the debt of 12,000l., and appropriated the rest—when I speak of these shipments to Canada, I receive the whole of my data from entries in these books—every one of those shipments is entered—the account I made out on 14th September, 1861, I took from the ledger—I did not go through the other books to see whether the ledger was correctly posted—a balance sheet was subsequently prepared, not by me, but under the superintendence of Mr. Hart, who was at one time a clerk under Mr. Pennell, the official assignee, and set up afterwards in business for himself as an accountant—the books were for a long time in his custody at Mr. Pennell's office—they first got into Mr. Hart's custody about January, I think, when they were absolutely declared bankrupts—he very likely had access to them on the bankrupts' premises, but I never saw him there—it would be quite in the ordinary course if he did, as he was employed by them—there was a messenger nominally in possession of the books at the bankrupts' office, but the bankrupts had access to them, and Mr. Hart, or anybody else—they were not bankrupts then—it was a private arrangement—if Mr. Hart was making their balance-sheet, and found things not entered, he would enter them, but in blue or red ink, not black—that is the understanding with the official assignees—the books would not remain intact—it is understood that the bankrupt is to balance his own books—the accountant would in the ordinary course, if he finds things not entered, enter them himself, and there are a good many alterations here in blue ink—they carried on business after this petition, to some extent, and those transactions would be entered by their clerks—those entries would not be in blue ink—leaving the books in September, I should certainly expect to find some additions in January—taking all the accounts, the balance now due by Wilhelms is 42l., 5s., 4d.,—I cannot say whether that is correct or incorrect—Tallerman's account is in the private ledger, folio 85—I did not look at that account in September—it was not on the premises, and Kortoske was not there at that time—I have examined the books, and that account exists in no other books but these two; it is not in the bill book—I have not seen this bill before (produced)—I fancy this bill stamp is in September—I think it is 129l.,—in this entry "170 Contra P.L." contra means "opposite"—it is entered 170l., on 24th August in the petty ledger—I am not able to say whether this entry was there in September—I only made up my account from the books I had—I examined them carefully—a number of new accounts had been opened, but I did not see that a number of old accounts had been closed—I think you will find that from the beginning almost every account is open, except trifling ones—those which are closed are very unimportant—I have not

looked to see how many are closed—I can tell that they are unimportant, because I have looked at the books, but I have not counted them—it is probably more than a dozen—I am speaking entirely from guess—I believe the stamp on this bill is of a date subsequent to that upon the face of it—it appears to me very much like a 9.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. You have spoken of certain alternation since you saw the books in September, and additions and subtractions as might be; have you traced through the other books to see whether there is any foundation for their having been brought into the ledger? A. Yes—I have looked in the bill book, and this bill is not there—any alteration in the books would arise from having discovered a wrong entry—that would be discovered by looking at the bill book for it—we enter all bills from the ledger—with regard to Wilhelms I cannot tell whether the 42l., or the original amount is correct—I am not able to trace how the balance has been reduced to 42l.,—I think I found the 500l., transferred from the private cash book to the ledger—the private cash book is here—this small book the private ledger—here is an entry in it of cash, "June 27, 500l."—the account is very irregular, there is date after date, May comes after August there again—I find two sums of 200l., and 300l., making 500l.,—and here is an entry in the large ledger, "By acceptances on June, 500l."—here is no entry in the private ledger on June 1, applicable to that, but here is an entry on June 27—June comes here after May, end May comes between two Jones—these entries in blue ink are made by the accountant—this is purely a cash transaction—they are so confused that you cannot trace them—after I had examined the books in September, there was a petition for a private arrangement—those proceedings are existing in the Court of Bankruptcy.

MR. COLLIER. Q. There is a certain 500l., in this ledger, and 500l., in the the other book? A. The entry is, "By cash, 500l." and here is "Petty cash;" and "By contra," and "By contra and cash;" so that you really cannot trace the figures—the figures in blue ink are Mr. Hart's—it is impossible to make out what this "July 3d, 500l.;" and "115" next to it, means—the 115 is made by a professional accountant, but a cash transaction has no business in the goods ledger—according to me, Mr. Hart has acted improperly—the cash tranactions ought to be by themselves—there is "By cash, 500l." there; and I think you will find "To cash contra," which means nothing.

Q. No; there is not; it is a delusion on your part, here is nothing of the sort? A. There are lots of "contras," but perhaps you have got a wrong account.

Q. Here is "By cash, 500l." and "115;" and you say that I shall find per contra on the opposide side; where is it? A. Here it is, "June 14th, per contra"—I do not know what that refers to—you will only find one 500l., there, and 500l., on the other side—one is July 3d, and the other July 14th; I do not say that they are the same; I say that that confuses you—there is no "Per contra" to July 3d.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE put in a declaration, signed by the bankrupts, dated 2d January, 1862, of a full account of their estate and effects.

GEORGE WILLCOX . I am a manufacturer, carrying on business at Windhill, near Leeds—I have an agent in London, named John Hart, who solicits orders for my firm—in consequence of a communication from him, I went with him on 4th August, 1861, to the house of business of Braun and Kortoske—I had had no transactions with that house previously, and have had none since—I went on the subject of some Spanish stripes they were proposing to purchase—they were all woollen goods—I saw Kortoske—he

looked at my patterns—he said that he had a customer for them, and could I leave him the patterns while he saw a customer for the Indian market, whom he had in the City, about them—I left then, and saw him again afterwards but he had not seen the customer—I saw him again, and he wanted me to send up ten or twelve pieces for the customer to look at, as he would rather see them in bulk—I did not decide at the moment, but went back to Yorkshire—I afterwards sent up twelve ends; twelve pieces, merely to look at, worth about 4l., each—he wrote down to me, and I came up, and we agreed for one lot at 3s., 6d., a yard, and another at 4s.,—Iagreed to sell 100 yards, which would come to about 400l.,—I saw him on 3d August—I returned on 16th August, and sent them on the 17th August—he got them on the 19th—he said, when I was in London, that he wanted them for a customer he had in the Indian market, and if I could supply him with the goods, he could do a large business—he was to have them on Monday, the 19th, as the vessel was going to sail on the Tuesday—I came up to town again about the 25th or 26th, called on Kortoske, and agreed to take a four months' bill for them—he said "I cannot pay you, unless you deduct 19l., or 20l., for them; I have sold them to my customer, and have got 19l., profit, which is very small; and, therefore, I want you to deduct 19l., or 20l."—I said that I would not allow him 19 pence; I had rather have the goods back—he said "I cannot let you have the goods back, because I have sold them"—I got his bill at four months—I sent my bill up on 2d September—he accepted it, and sent it back—I got it on the 3d or 4th—the goods were light things, with a stripe running along the outside edge of the cloth—they were flannels, scarlets and yellows, magentas and blues—the stripe is a different colour—I sent them direct to Braun and Kortoske.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. Were there not some of those pieces of Spanish stripes returned to you? A. Yes; ten or twelve ends; black—I cannot say the exact date—I cannot say whether I got a letter on their return—I have had notice to produce some letters from Braun and Kortoske to me, but I cannot find them—the black goods were returned to me because they were not according to the contract—we agreed not to take the blacks.

JOHN BRITTON . I am a packer and shipper, of Basinghall-street—about the 24th August, about 100 pieces of Spanish stripes were placed on our premises by the defendants, to be packed—we had no order to receive them—we had this order to part with them; a delivery order—(Read: "London, August 31st, 1861. Messrs. Britton and Co. Please to deliver to bearer, four bales of Spanish stripes; Braun and Kortoske")—Those four bales included the 100 pieces—when "Bearer" is introduced in that way, the goods are delivered to the person who delivers the order—a cart came, and we have only the carman's name—the signature is "John Ward, September 2d."

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. Have you received a good many goods before from Braun and Kortoske, to be packed? A. Yes; they were what are called tillited—that is what would be done for the Indian market—it only costs half a crown a piece; that would be a hundred half-crowns on the whole—tilliting is a process in addition to packing for the Indian market—the packing would be about the same.

JOHN FIELD . I am manager to John Britton and Co. and live at 35, Basinghall-street—on September 2d, the date of this order, I delivered four bales of Spanish stripes to an order sent by Braun and Kortoske, to Mr. Wilhelms, and they are signed for by the carman, in his name.

JAMES COLLINS . I carry on business at 21, Church-street, Manchester, as a

packer, but I occasionally receive orders on commission—I purchased goods in my own name, on the defendant's account—on 8th August, 1861, I purchased 150 pieces of grey domestics, 36 inches wide; that is, calico; and 100 40-inch grey domestics, making 250 altogether; and on 22d August, 400 pieces of print—the first order they gave me was on 6th August, four pieces of white calico, value 6l., 19s., 4d.,—the whole amount, including commission as stated in the bills which I hold in my hand, is 444l., 16s., 10d.,—I received these two bills of exchange for those goods—they have not been paid—I have never received a shilling from the parties—I did not see Braun and Kortoske about the goods—my representative, Mr. Ben Davis, saw them, and I supplied the goods on his order.

BEN DAVIS . I live at Salford, and am agent for several wholesale houses in London—I know the defendants—I first had transactions with them in August, 1861—I went to their place of business, and saw both the prisoners, and also Bernard Kortoske—I took an order for 200 pieces of domestic cloths for Mr. Collins on 2d August—that portion of the order was never delivered—fifty pieces were going to be delivered on the day of their stoppage, but another order was given to me, on 5th August, for fifty pieces of grey domestics, and also 100 pieces of different widths—that order was executed; the value of the property was somewhere about 240l., to 250l.,—I received instructions to pack them in bales—no directions were given by either of the bankrupts on this transaction—on 17th August, I sold them 200 pieces of printed cotton on behalf of Mr. Collins—Benjamin Kortoske said that the goods were wanted for India—the order was given, subject to a price being accepted in Manchester, and on receipt of that order I received instructions from Benjamin Kortoske how to pack the goods, and forward them to their house in London-wall in cases lined with tin, and numbered from "1" upwards—they were so sent, and I afterwards called on them in the ordinary way for their acceptance—I saw Benjamin Kortoske, and got their acceptance two days afterwards—that was all the dealing I had on behalf of Collins—it was the first transaction and the last—I also represent the house of Kirkley, of Leeds, on whose behalf I sold the defendants, in the same month, heavy coating cloths, such as beavers and pilots, to the value of about 300l.,—that was also a first and last transaction—I had no conversation with either of the partners upon those goods, because they were selected by Bernard—I also, in the same month, sold them some beavers and pilots for Messrs. Johnson and North, of Leeds, value 180l., or 200l.,—that was a first and last transaction—I had no conversation as to them, with either of the defendants, as the goods were selected by Bernard—I also sold other prints to the defendants, in the same month, on behalf of other houses, to the value of 500l., or thereabouts, and they were never paid—I received the bill for Collins' goods on the 14th.

Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. Have you dealt with the bankrupts before? A. Yes; for many years past, and to a considerable extent, representing various persons—I went to solicit orders in the ordinary course of business.

WILLIAM DALLMAN . I am a partner in the firm of Willett, Allen, and Co, packers, of Coleman-street—a few days before 23d August, we received seven bales of cotton goods from the defendants, to pack—they were delivered to Johnson's cart somewhere about 23d August—I have not my book with me, and we have no delivery orders; a shipping note is forwarded to us—they were marked "K" in a triangle, and "W" underneath, "1 to 7."

WILLIAM BRASSETT . I live at 8, Chambers-street, Commercial-road,

East, and am in the employ of Mr. Thompson, a wharfinger, of Irongate-wharf, Lower East Smithfield—I produce a shipping note, dated 19th August, 1861, to receive from K. Wilhelms—it is not signed—it says, "Please receive five bales, marked K in a diamond, for shipment per steamer"—I do not know what day I received them, but about that time.

JOHN HART . I carry on business at 34, Monkwell-street, and am agent for several manufacturers in the north of England, and among others for Mr. Willcox—I had only one transaction with the defendants as his agent; that was about August 20th—I called there to sell goods in the regular way, the same as I do at any other house—I took some patterns of Spanish stripes, and saw the prisoner Kortoske; he said, "They are the very things I have been looking for for some years, I can do a large trade with you, as I have a connexion in almost every part of the States," and I think he also mentioned Malta and India—as they were large shippers, I left him the patterns, and he gave me an order for two sample pieces of each colour—I called immediately on receipt of the goods, and saw him; he said, "Look in at half-past 4 o'clock"—I did so, and he said, "We cannot give you an answer to-day, as we have not seen the merchant"—Mr. Willcox then came up, and I made an appointment to see him next morning at half-past 10 o'clock—I saw him, and we were to call again in the afternoon—I did so; he came out and spoke to me first, and then his wife came out; she seemed rather active in the business, and anxious to buy goods—Kortoske gave me an order for 100 pieces, and said that they would take 300, and that they wanted them for shipping, and that they must be there on Monday or Tuesday morning, as the ship would sail, and they would be too late for the parties they were wanted for—he did not tell me what part of the world they were going to—after the goods were sent up, I saw him; he said that they were not as good as they ought to be, and wanted a reduction on them—eight or ten days after that I went to Britton's, the packers, in Basinghall-street—I was told that the goods were there, but the men had gone to dinner, and the old man there would not let me see them—I act as agent for four or five other people besides Willcox, and have sold on their account to Braun and Kortoske—the first sale was in July, I believe, and the next in August—the first transaction was for four out of five of those persons, and the amount was altogether beyond 1,000l.,—1860 was the first time we dealt with them as commission agents, and the goods were all paid for—I had no more difficulty, when I first went, in selling the goods than I have with anybody else—I found no greater readiness to buy goods till the end of August—I went one day, and they gave me an order for thirty pieces of black cloth, which I never solicited—I then began to be cautious, and never sold them any more, because they were bought in a very loose manner, such as no man, who meant to pay for the goods, would have done.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. It was you who called upon them; they did not send for you? A. I went to them—I always go to all my customers without being sent for—I had gone to them for, I think, ten years, but I never could sell them any goods till 1861—the negotiations about these stripes were not going on more than ten or fourteen days, and finally a portion of them were returned because they were the wrong colour, black, and could not be sold.

THOMAS EAGLETON . I am in the employ of Mr. Johnson, a carman, of Milton-street—on 23d August, 1861, I went to Niblett and Allen's, the Packers, for five bales of goods—I took an order with me, and got five bales—I took three of them to Irongate-wharf, and gave them to a man who

takes goods on the wharf, with a shipping note—I took the other two bales to Mr. Wilhelms, in the Poultry.

GEORGE JOHNSON . I am a carman of Milton-street—the last witness in in my employment—on 23d August I gave him orders to go to Niblets and Allen's for goods—Mr. Wilhelms, of the Poultry, gave me orders to send for those goods—we had two orders alike from Wilhelms, on two different days—I cannot say the exact dates—I did not receive the order; the gentleman went on and took them—I did not inquire what sort of goods they were.

KROZNISKI WILHELMS . I am a merchant and tailor, carrying on business at 14 and 15, Poultry—I have known the defendants fourteen or fifteen years—my clerk will produce my books—I cannot tell without them when I first began to do business with the defendants—I do not keep my own books—(The books were given to the witness)—it was about April, 1861—I know, without my books, that I bought goods of them, and also took dry goods on consignment—my memory is so short that I cannot tell what amount of goods I have taken of them, as a purchaser, unless I look into figures—by receiving goods on commission I mean goods consigned to me, shipped at Barbadoes or Australia, or elsewhere, for their account—the terms are usually such as merchants receive, a commission of, say, 10 per cent., according to the time at which the return may come, also 5l., per cent per annum, for bills drawn on their account—if an account is returned in six months, of course it would not be so much as 10 per cent; it all depends upon the distance; but my commission as a merchant is 10 per cent—the defendants did not employ me to sell goods for them abroad; they consigned goods to me—I was responsible to them, and charged 10 per cent commission for the purpose of having them sold abroad for their interest, and to guarantee to return the profits of their goods—that is my charge—I am a foreigner, my lord, and I wish you would observe that I am used properly—it was at my option, if the goods were not returned in twelve months, to charge 10 per cent.—I cannot say whether that was the arrangement, because it is so long ago, but that is my charge—I do not think I made a specific bargain with them—I do not think they intrusted me with the goods without asking my charge; but the parties are here, and they know what business is, and whether that is the usual charge or not—I have never been asked for account sales, and they have not come forward yet, but I have some, though I have not been asked for them by the assignees, or any one—some have not yet come at all, but I got some about a month ago—I continued to do business with the defendants up to 1862; the last goods I received were about August, 1862—there was no time to make up any account before their failure; the only account made up was when I received the notice from the assignees respecting it, which amounted to l,500l., 18s., 2d., for which I gave them a cheque, and there was a balance besides in my pocket—I remember receiving some stripes—all the communication I had with the defendants about them was, that Mr. Callisher produced an order to me—this is it (produced)—I advanced 200l., on it on conditions for me to consign the goods to India; at least, to the East Indies—they remained on my premises, because I could not get any merchant to take them, in consequence of their beings so dear, and the colours did not suit the market—at the time they were delivered to me I had no ship for them, and had made no arrangement—I tried to make arrangements; I showed the patterns to different merchants, and they would not suit the price of the market—Mr. Collins paid me the 200l., by cheque,

I believe, on the Unity Bank—I produced the cheque, which I gave him, at the Mansion-house—I do not know whether the amount of goods I had on consignment was between 4,000l., and 5,000l.; I will look—one consignment was 1,879l., 14s., 8d.,—Mr. Metcalfe has got it all before him, and the advance, 1,261l., 19s, 3d., has been made on it—these papers I am referring to are goods consigned—they are not my writing; they are extracts from my books—No. 2 is 2,031l., 13s., 11d., which an advance has been made on of 1,293l.; No. 3 is a consignment of 617l., 7s., 11d., and 395l., 4s., has been advanced upon it—that is the whole—you can search my books and see if that is so—there is a balance according to the account, and when the account sales are made up, I shall pay it if there is anything due—I have never been asked for an account by any assignee; I have not sent one in, because I have not had one till a fortnight or three weeks ago—besides those transactions, there was a bought and sold account—the amount is 1,579l., 18s., 3d.,—I paid that amount—if I buy goods I can do as I like with them—there were also bill transactions between us—I do not know that they were accommodation bills; I do not suppose I deal in them—if they were, they have been paid by me, I cannot say that there were such things; I do not know either one way or the other—the bankrupts left with me a certain lot of stones as security for the money they owed me, which could not realize the amount—I returned them to them—that appears in my books, their owing me money—I was afraid that the Spanish stripes would not fetch the money advanced, and I held the stones as security—I cannot remember when they were handed to me; they were left to be sold on commission for them if the Spanish stripes did not fetch 200l., and there was any loss upon them; and when I had the 200l., of Mr. Collins I gave him back the stones—I did not know at that time that the cost price of the Spanish stripes was 400l.; I would not give 200l.,—I advanced 200l., and I was very sorry for it—I do not know when that was—I returned the stones again, and there was an end of it—I do not even remember if it was after the bankruptcy—I returned them, and had no benefit from them—I have never assisted the bankrupts in making up their accounts—I am not a bookkeeper; I want assistance myself—I cannot keep other people's accounts; it is quite trouble enough to keep my own.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. My learned friend calls you a tailor, and you call yourself a clothier? A. Yes—I have houses in Barbadoes, Trinidad, St. Vincent, Melbourne, Sidney, and the Cape of Good Hope—the assignees have seen my books in the Court of Bankruptcy, and I believe the short-hand writer took copies from my books, not only once, but three times—I have got those copies examined by the short-hand writer, and they were admitted—the assignees had a full opportunity of examining my books—the larger account is what I call the consignment account—I will give you the details of the separate accounts, one, two, and three—I should like to assist the Court as much as I can—the consignment accounts are 1,879l., 14s., 8d., 2,031l., 14s., 11d., and 617l., 3s., 11d.,—the 1,879l., 14s., 8d., worth of goods were consigned to Barrill and Durrant, of Barbadoes, who are well known to Cox & Co., bankers, of London—I would trust them with 50,000l., to-day if I could afford it—I can, if necessary, give the ships, and I have the bills of lading, and can give you the policies of insurance, and everything else—these are the accounts I delivered to the assignees, but they never asked for the account sales—the next lot, 2,312l., 1s., 5d., were all consigned to Nathaniel Harriss, of Melbourne, a well-known firm—the lot at 600l., and odd were consigned to a first-rate firm in Hamburgh—I can show what ship they

went by; a steamer from London-bridge-wharf—until recently I had not received the accounts, and I have not yet received them all—I have parted with the account from Barrill, but some of the goods from Hamburg could not realize the expectation of a profit—they wrote to me to say that the goods would be somewhat sacrificed, and I wrote to them to return them, and have them now in my possession—when I consign to a distance, like Australia, so as not to get the account for a considerable time, and I guarantee the payment, I charge 5l., per cent. per annum, and 10l., per cent. commission—those are my usual terms of doing business—I have known Braun as well, but Kortoske was the principal party I dealt with—they, of course, as men of business, knew that that was my course of business, so that there was no necessity for any formal arrangement between us—the man who advances money ought to get a profit, and we do our business in that way—suppose the house fails, where am I to be—I do not always go to a lawyer to get a written agreement—I just send the goods on board, and the bills of lading are made out, and handed over to the Bank of Australia, and I get my advance in the usual course of business—I dealt with the bankrupts in the usual course of business, as I would with any other firm, a bill of lading is a Bank of England note; that is what we consider as merchants—we can get any advance upon it—I sent abroad all the goods, Nos. 1, 2 and 3, with the exception of one transaction of 1,500l., odd, and the Spanish stripes which I returned to Mr. Callisher, who gave me 200l., and I returned the goods to him—I received them with instructions to ship them for India, and I tried the market, and could not do it—I beg your pardon; the East Indies; they are not fit for the Indian market—I believe they were at that time tillited, but I never saw the goods, only the samples—they were packed in bales—they arrived with me in such a shape as to be sent to India, excepting the marks of the houses; they were to go to whatever house I shipped them to—I should have put their marks on—I know nothing about a portion of them being returned—my reason for not sending them to India was that they were charged so high, and were so unsuitable for the market, that I could not get the advance that I advanced myself—goods, the colour of which would not suit India, would not suit the East Indies—St. Vincent and Barbadoes goods are a different class—I should not send my money away, and get nothing for it; I had better keep the goods here—any goods shipped through me I was answerable for to the official assignee and to Messrs. Braun and Kortoske—I advanced the defendants two-thirds of the cost price on the goods—I should be very glad to get fifty per cent. on some goods—that is more than anybody would advance for that—I charge the amount—I sometimes advance cash upon goods, and sometimes bills—I do not understand anything about accommodation bills—I am referring to my giving bills to them occasionally, by way of advance on the goods, instead of actual cash—to the best of my belief, I never gave them any other bills—I should not call those accommodation bills; you may as well call the Bank of England notes accommodation bills—I do not call these accommodation bills at all; I have goods to represent them—I do not know whether I gave up the stones a considerable time before the bankruptcy—all I know is, that when Mr. Kortoske came back from Canada, I had not disposed of those stones, and I returned them to him as soon as he came back, having had my 200l., back for the Spanish stripes, and there was an end of the transaction—I could not get a price for the stones from several first-rate merchants of the City of London, and gave them back—he put a high value upon them, but very likely he had been deceived, not knowing anything about them—I suppose, if you were to give

300l., for an article that would not fetch 150l., you would think so—stones are articles of fancy; I have got a ring on my finger which I would not take 200l., for, because it is a gem—jewels are very fluctuating in value—sometimes diamonds will fetch 8l., a carat, and sometimes not 4l.,

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. You have got those respectable agents abroad; have you received money from them? A. I have—here is the statement—I suppose I may have received 12,000l., or 13,000l., or perhaps 20,000l.; I cannot say, unless I go into it minutely; when the official assignee sends for it, I can furnish him with it—I did business with other people in the same way that I have with the defendants—I am in the habit, as a respectable merchant, of supplying my customers with account sales—it is true that I have consigned goods abroad, but I have not got the account sales for these transactions yet—I have been receiving consignments, and accounting with the consignees since 1851, for Braun and Kortoske—I am not here about general business—I have been in the habit of doing business of that kind for ten or twelve years—I have furnished account sales in my life, and have furnished them to those people who are concerned in our business.

Q. Have you ever furnished an account sale except through the medium of the Court of Bankruptcy? A. I have never been in the Court of Bankruptcy, or here, before—I do not understand anything about accommodation bills, though I have been a merchant of London for sixteen years—I have plenty of money of my own without accommodation bills—I cannot tell you from memory what dealings I had with the bankrupts for the 6,000l., in addition to the transactions in which goods were consigned, and you do not want me to perjure myself.

MR. COLLIER. Q. Whatever your transactions have been, have you given a full account to the assignees? A. I have—I have given four accounts.

JOHN WEST . I am a law stationer, of 9, Union-court, Old Broad-street, and am the owner of the house—about September, 1860, I let a room to a person calling himself Fox—the prisoner Kortoske, who I did not know before, called and looked at the office, and ultimately hired it for Mr. Fox, who he said was his brother, and who afterwards came, and took possession of the room—the rent was 14l., a year, payable quarterly—it was a verbal agreement—I saw Fox a great many times after he came there, up to Ladyday, 1861, but not after he once went away—K. Fox and Co. was over the door—it was a very small room—there was a table, desk, and chairs, but no books or papers—Mr. Fox paid me the first two quarters' rent, and after that Mr. Braun called, and paid me, saying that he paid it for Mr. Fox, and on his account—I did not know his name then, nor did I ask him—it was probably a little after the Midsummer quarter—there was another quarter after that—during the whole of that time nobody occupied the premises—I found out, afterwards, Braun and Kortoske's place of business, and went there at the latter end of last year, or the beginning of this—I saw them both—Kortoske said nothing particular—Braun promised me payment in a little while, and said that Fox was soon expected back, and that it would be all right—I never saw the defendants again—they told me nothing more about Fox, and from that time to this I have never seen him.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. About what time was it in 1860 that you saw Mr. Kortoske first? A. In September—I do not recollect the day of the month; I took no note of it—he probably may have said that he wanted it for Fox and Co.—that was the name on the door—I did not personally make inquiries in Aldermanbury—he gave me Aldermanbury as the place where Fox and Co. had carried on business before, and I sent there, and

made inquiries—I do not know that about that time a brother of his, named Raffael Kortoske, who acted with Fox, came over, nor that one of the Kortoskes came over from Canada at the time they were in Aldermanbury, and acted with Fox—I saw Fox for six months—I did not understand that Fox and Co. really meant Kortoske Brothers in Canada—I had not heard the name of Kortoske at that time—it was not necessary for me to inquire so long as I got the rent.

WILLIAM STORR HOPLEY . I am a clerk in the City Bank—I only know Kortoske—on 26th March, 1861, an account was opened there in the name of Keppel Fox and Co.—it is our custom, on opening an account, to take the names of the persons interested in it—the names I have are Raffael Kortoske, Marcus Kortoske, and Keppel Fox—the defendant Kortoske introduced that account to our house in behalf of his firm—I took this signature (produced) at the time, upon which the account should be drawn—it was "Keppel Fox and Co."—Raffael Kortoske gave it to me—here is the signature book—500l., cash was paid in that day to their credit—I believe it is still open as a drawing account: there is a small balance—the last cheque was 2d January, 10l., I cannot tell to whom—the preceding one was on 30th December, 6l.,—I cannot tell whether it was paid over the counter, for I have left the cheques behind at the office.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. Were the accouuts of the Commercial Bank transferred to your bank many of them? A. No; I cannot say that they were—I know that Keppel Fox and Co. had previously an account at the Commercial Bank, which had stopped at this time, and some of the accounts were transferred to our bank.

HENRY KEYSILL . I am a clerk in the London and Westminster Bank, and was formerly a clerk in the Commercial Bank up to the time of the accounts being transferred—I have my book here: here is an account of Keppel Fox & Co. in it from 1854 till the end of Feb. 1861, when the Commercial Bank stopped—a majority of the accounts were then transferred to the London and Westminster Bank—these people transferred their accounts themselves—I was not communicated with, that I am aware of—cheques were drawn in the name of "Keppel Fox and Co."—I know the defendant Kortoske; he has frequently applied for the pass-book, and I have given it to him—I do not know for certain to whom any one cheque-book was supplied—I always looked upon him as the representative of the firm of Braun and Kortoske—Mr. Price has seen my books and the drawings.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. Have you got the account here? A. Not the ledger; I have the signature book—this first signature is that of Keppel Fox himself; here is his name opposite to it—Raffael and Marcus Kortoske are in the writing of Marcus.

GILBERT SMITH . I am a stone-dealer—these stones have been shown to the official assignee—I believe their full market value to be 135l.,

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. When did you value them? A. I think it was on 31st July—I also saw two lots in the City, which I valued at 15l.,—precious stones vary a great deal in value, which makes a good deal of difference in some classes—there is always a market value, which is that which you can get—different valuers do not differ considerably in the value of precious stones, if they know their business.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Can these stones which you have seen be worth as much as 700l., or 800l.,? A. Certainly not; when there is a demand they might fetch 25l., or 30l., more—they are rough rubies, and are useful for watches and jewellery.

HENRY CALLISHER , being called, did not appear.

SAMUEL ROACH PRICE . I am an accountant, and have been so twenty years—I have had considerable experience, and have been requested by the assignees to help in this matter—I have gone through these books with attention and care, and find in them some silks from Moutigny; there is no invoice; the price is 1,340l.,—goods to that amount are debited to Callisher, and there is a debit of a parcel of precious stones—the entry is "H. Callisher, 9th August, 1861, debit to goods," with a reference to a book which I understood is lost, "folio 869, 1,379l., 16s., 9d.," on the opposite side, is "Credit on 8th August, by goods," with a reference to folio 10, to which I have turned, and find it consists of precious stones, 1,366l., 2s., 4d., according to an invoice which is produced, and here is a credit to Moutigny in the bought ledger, folio 185, of 1,303l. 19s., 6d.,—the amounts do not exactly correspond—it is entered at several dates, ranging from July 10—it is given first of all in francs, and on 16th August, and then comes 26th July—I have gone through the list of new accounts opened during 1861; I have also gone through the books to see how many old accounts have been discontinued, and there are fifteen, the average of which is about 15l, each—there is not one considerable account closed—I have seen the Commercial Bank books, and the City Bank books, down to the present period—(MR. COLLIER objected to the contents of the books being gone into, and MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE did not proceed with it)—there are bill transactions in the bankrupts' books which have no relation to goods; the account in the private ledger begins at page 108, and is continued at 109 and 110—there have been, I think, upwards of 6,000l., bill transactions between the parties—I have also examined the cash-book and ledgers, and find that the dates of the different transactions do not agree—they are very irregular—the cash-book has been written up since October, 1860, and I believe it has been written all at one time from there; I come to that conclusion because the writing is in the same hand and the same ink—I have also turned to a great many entries, and find from the cash-book that the entries do not correspond; I can give you the instances—at page 264 of the ledger here is an account with a man named Underwood: "June 25, 1860, cash folio," which is a reference to the cash-book, "612, 11l., 3s."—within that, in blue ink, made by the defendants' accountant, I presume, is C B. 39: that £612 is the original posted, and there is no cash-book which I have seen which has£612 in it at all, and therefore it is not in this cash-book, although this cash-book covers the date—there is no such entry in it as C B 39, and I have never seen another cash-book—there are no items in which I find a different date given in the cash-book, but there are a number of similar cases to that—I found by the defendants' books who were their bankers—here are entries of moneys paid to and received from William Deacon and Co., and also the Commercial Bank, and once in blue ink the word "City Bank" is written—I have confined my attention to since June 1, 1861—the books are here—I can show you the transcript of the banker's account—I am referring to the cash-book—the first entry is "7th Jan. 1861, Commercial Bank, 41l., 15s. 9d.,"—I have not copied that out of this book—the next payment at the bank is "9th January, 432l., 10s.;" the next is 12th, 241l., 6s.;" the next, "14th, 96l., 18s.,”—on the 15th here are two sums, 50l., and 49l., 18s.; "16th, 180l., 10s," "25th, 350l.,"—(here are also entries to the Unity Bank)—on 1st February they paid to the Commercial Bank 750l.; on the 4th, 200l.; 8th, 435l., 12s., 3d.; 15th, 26l., 13s.; 18th, 150l.; 26th, 200l.; March 4th, 90l; 8th, 200l.; 9th, 220l.; 15th, 45l.; 20th, 350l.; 22d, 400l.; 23d, 400l.; April 1, 75l., 4s., 10d.,—the amounts

paid into the Commercial Bank between January and July amount to 9,400l., but after the beginning of March sums are paid into the Commercial Bank—the payments were continued after it ceased its business—after 6th March the business was transferred to other banks, but a large sum of money was paid in which appears by the bankrupts' books to have been called out in payments of certain of their own bills—sums of money are drawn from time to time from the Commercial Bank—there is no balance left; they have drawn it all out, and balanced the account—after the bank suspended, sufficient sums were paid in to the account of Fox and Co. to meet the bills of those people—I follow this same thing into the City Bank—I have traced, as appearing in the defendant's cash-book, as paid into the City Bank, 9,781l. 18s., 10d.,

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. You say that they paid in from time to time, to the Commercial Bank, sufficient to meet bills coming due? A. They paid in to the credit of Fox and Co.—I cannot say of my own knowledge whether that was for bills—their advancing two-thirds of the price on goods would not account for any of it—we have all those bills in another ledger—I can read them over to you—they begin with the account of Wilhelms, on account of Barrill, Durrant, and Co. in 1861, on the 15th, 175l., 5s.; June 1st, 25l., 16s.; July 9th, 218l., 16s., not cash, but acceptances of Wilhelms—those are different from the acceptances in this book; you will see that they are not the same amounts—I examined the books several weeks past, and was three weeks engaged on them—the acceptances given amount to about two-thirds the value of the goods—I am speaking of ledger which you have seen this morning—it is a very difficult thing to say to what these transactions with Wilhelms apply; they are almost all cross entries, which I do not pretend to explain—I do not think it is consistent with these entries that the transactions were merely Wilhelms' discounting bills for them, because discount is not mentioned; and if the bills had been discounted, Wilhelms would have deducted the discount, and given him cash—here is "cheque N. L. 200l.," and I have no doubt, if you look on the opposite side, you will see 200l., also.

Q. No; I do not see any "Contra," or anything of the sort? A. Then I am unable to tell you from whence the money came—this is not a rough book, in my sense of the word; it is kept in a very improper way—I do not say that it is impossible that these entries can be accounts for discounting, but I think, if they were, the discount would appear—I do not think he would put a bill for 200l., on one side, and cash on the other—these entries may be almost anything—I state that they are bill transactions; the book itself shows it, you will see on one side "To cash," and on the other "By bills."

HENRY KEYSILL (re-examined). I have an account entered to Keppel Fox and Co.—Braun, Kortoske, and Co. had no account with us—I call the signature-book the subscription-book—the address of Keppel Fox and Co. in our books is 1, Aldermanbury-postern.

MR. COLLIER. Q. If any sums were paid in by Kortoske, you, not knowing him, would put it to the account he told you? A. Of course—we did not know the name of Kortoske.

MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Have you heard those sums of money mentioned by Mr. Price? A. Yes; they appear in my book under the account of Keppel Fox and Co.—I called over the abstract with Mr. Price, and it agreed with our ledger—the only signature we honoured was Keppel Fox and Co.—the amount was paid out on their drawing.

MR. COLLIER. Q. Have all Keppel Fox's bills been paid? A. I believe so; the ledger will show—several have been paid since I left the Commercial Bank—here are a variety of sums paid into the Commercial Bank to meet certain acceptances after it had transferred its business; the names are Braun. Dando, Kortoske, and Swanson—they are acceptances by Keppel Fox and Co.

CHARLES JOHN BECK . I am a traveller in the defendants' employ, and was so for about three years prior to their failure—my salary was 70l., a year—I generally received it quarterly—during July, August, and the early part of September, I noticed that a large increase of goods came in—I had a difficulty in getting my salary—35l., half a year, was owing to me—I did not apply for it till after the first three months; I dare say I had gone half the next quarter—I applied for it to Mr. Kortoske five or six times at the end of August, and just before 20th August I applied to Mr. Braun for it, because I wanted it for the purpose of paying for some schooling—Mr. Kortoske told me first that he would see Mr. Butler, the clerk, and leave a cheque with him—I repeatedly came down afterwards to see if Mr. Butler had received the cheque, and he had not—I saw Mr. Kortoske again, and he said that he would see about it; he thought there was not so much owing—I said, "The time has expired nearly half a year"—he said that he would see Mr. Butler about it—I went down continually about it, but did not get even any portion of the first quarter—while I was trying to get it, there was a great increase in the quantity of goods coming in.

Cross-examined by MR. COLLIER. Q. Did you get something for Commission? A. No; on one occasion I kept back a portion of the sales I had received when I was ordered—I did not get any salary at all in July, 1861.

MR. COLLIER went through the evidence on the whole twenty-eight counts, comparing it with the sections of the Act upon which the Counts were framed, and contending that it did no sustain any of them, either as to false pretences or conspiracy; and further, that Braun took no part in the book transactions, but could only just write his name; that there was no evidence against him, therefore, of conspiracy, and that Kortoske could not conspire alone. MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE submitted that there was evidence of false entries in the books, made, either in contemplation of bankruptcy or to defraud the creditors, and also evidence of a conspiracy to avoid the Bankruptcy Laws, not only between the two defendants, but between each of them and the firm in Canada. MR. BARON MARTIN considered that no act of bankruptcy had been committed, that there was evidence defendants conspiring together (after having obtained credit) to obtain large quantities of goods paying for them; he would, however, further consider the matter after the rising of the Court. He stated, on the following morning, hat he had consulted one of the learned Judges, who had reminded him of the case of Sir J. D. Paul and others, where very much the same sort of question arose with respect to one of the partners in a bank, and in which Mr. Baron Alderson, Mr. Justice Willes, and himself, concurred that the case must go to the Jury against all the prisoners on the same same of evidence only one offence, which could only be contained in one Count; and had he known as much of the case when Mr. Collier made the application as he did then he should certainly have quashed the Indictment; and should any similar Indictment be brought before him again he would certainly quash it. MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE elected to go to the Jury on the twenty-fifth count.

GUILTY on the twenty-fifth Count. MR. METCALFE stated that the assignees wished to recommend Braun to mercy, believing that he was acting under the influence of Kortoske.

BRAUN.— Confined Two Months.

KORTOSKE.— Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1103
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

1103. DAVID BRAUN and BENJAMIN KORTOSKE were again indicted for , that they haying been adjudged bankrupt, feloniously did fail and neglect to discover their personal estate; upon which no evidence was offered.


OLD COURT.—Saturday, November 1st, 1862.


Before Mr. Baron Martin.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1104
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

1104. JOHN BUCKLEY (54), was indicted for feloniously and carnally knowing Elizabeth Burke.

MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS the Defence.



Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1105
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1105. JOHN ROBINSON (24) , Stealing 6lbs. of bacon, value 12s., the property of Henry Hill.

MR. LAXTON conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY HILL . I am a cheesemonger, of High-street, Deptford—on 30th September, about 1 o'clock, I was in my parlour, which opens into the shop—my boy, who was standing at the door, gave an alarm—I ran into the shop and found the prisoner with a piece of bacon which had been on the window—I chased him, and when within a few yards of him he dropped the bacon and made his escape—I am sure he is the person, I had known him previously—I described him to the police, and saw him again that same evening at the station.

WILLIAM CHARLES WILKINSON . I am a labourer at Deptford—about 1 o'clock on this day I was going down High-street, and saw the prisoner drop the piece of bacon from under his arm; he was running as hard as he could, and the prosecutor after him—I am sure he is the man.

JOHN DEAN (Policeman, R 272). I took the prisoner in charge about half-past 7 in the evening of the 30th September—I told him the charge—he said he knew nothing about it, the police took him just when he liked.


The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court in December, 1861; to this part of the charge he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Three Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1106
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1106. JOHN WOOD (18) , Stealing 3 sums of 1l., 10s., each, the property of Samuel Tremlett, his master; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.

Confined Four Months.

Before Lord Chief Baron Pollock.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1107
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

1107. EDWARD CRAMPTHORN (30) , Feloniously stabbing Bridget Mary Hartnett, with intent to kill and murder her. Second Count, with intent to do her grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.

BRIDGET MARY HARTNETT . I know the prisoner—I first knew him six years ago; at that time he was a married man—I lost sight of him after that until July last—he was then a widower—he was brought to me by the interference of some of his working mates, and I was introduced to him at the house of one of his workmates—I think that was the first Sunday in July last—there was some conversation then in which the prisoner proposed marriage to me—I at first consented, and the banns were afterwards twice published—after that something came to my knowledge about him, and I refused to marry him, on account of his character, it was not satisfactory—I told him so—I have a brother named Alexander—I went with him and my mother to see the prisoner—we told him what we had heard, and wished to have no further intercourse with him; notwithstanding that, he came to me again—I told him at one time that I was of a different religion, and I also told him on that occasion that I would have nothing further to do with him—on Tuesday, 26th August, I went to his sister's at Rotherhithe, soon after 6 in the evening—whilst I was there the prisoner came in, about quarter-past 7—I started between 8 and 9 to go home—the prisoner came with me—I objected to his coming with me, but he came—he came with me to High-street, Deptford, and I again objected—I wished him to leave me and go home, and allow me to go home—he still continued with me—I went into the Broadway, Deptford, and I again entreated of him to leave me, as it was getting very late, and I said I was afraid if my brother met him they would quarrel, finding me in his company—he continued arguing with me, and my brother was at work at a sewer in the Broadway and overheard me, and called out to me by name, and asked if that was me—I said it was—my brother came up and asked the prisoner why he prevented me from going home—he said he wished to speak to me—my brother said there could be nothing very important to say that night, and if he wished to speak to me he was to see me next day, and whatever he might wish to know he should have all the requisite information from my brother and myself—my brother and the prisoner then took some beer together—the prisoner offered it two or three times, and at last a witness fetched it, and they both drank—my brother was called away to his work—the prisoner at this time was talking very loud—I told him to leave me, that I did not wish any further company or conversation with him—he said he would not leave me till he had spoken to me—I said, "You can have nothing to say to me to-night, for your conduct clearly proves what you are, and I have now reason to believe that some part of what I have heard of you is true"—he said, "I want to know your intention"—I said, "My intention is, after this night, to have nothing further to say to you"—he turned round, and said something to the effect that he would have my life, and I received one or two successive blows in the chest, towards the left breast—I could not see what the blows were struck with—for a few moments I stood, and then I found I could stand no longer, and I supported myself against the side of a shop—in the struggle my shawl came on, and I found that I was bleeding—I went back with a view of getting my shawl, where I knew it had fallen off, and the prisoner again rushed at me—I raised up my right arm and he stabbed me through the muscle of my arm—I then knew it was a knife, and told him so—I said, "You are stabbing

me"—he said, "I know I am"—I said, "Now I know what makes me bleed"—I threw myself into the arms of the first person I saw, and asked him to save me, and to go in search of my brother, because I was afraid he would kill him too—I called out to my brother, but he did not come at that time; he came afterwards—I did not see what happened to him.

ALEXANDER HARTNETT . I am a labouring man, and live in Church-street, Deptford—I knew that the prisoner was at one time engaged to my sister; it was in July last—I had objected to his marrying her—on 26th August, about half-past 11 at night, I was at work in a sewer in Church street—whilst there I heard the voices of my sister and the prisoner in the street—I came up and asked her what she did there at that hour; that she had more right to be at home, as I thought it was an improper hour for her to be out—she said that she had been trying to part with him for an hour and a half—I told him that he had a little distance to go, and it was pretty nearly time he was gone home—he said we should have some beer, and wanted me to go into a public house with him—I declined doing so—a young woman brought some beer—he handed it to me and I drank, and handed the pot back to him—I had no angry words with him at that time—I went to my work, and about five minutes afterwards I heard my sister scream out as though she had been hit—there was a fence between me and them—I went to the place as soon as I could, and I saw the prisoner with his hand like upon her—I went between them—he let go of her and turned on to me, and hit me in the chest with a knife, saying, "And you"—he struck me on the left side, under my breast—I turned my back to get away, finding it was not a blow with a fist, and he then stabbed me in the back—I fell to the ground after the second stab—I received a third stab while I was on the ground, and a fourth on the hand—he said he had had his revenge, and he meant to—the prisoner might have been drinking—I can't say whether he was drunk or not—he spoke sensibly enough when he came to me—I was taken to Guy's Hospital, and was there for some time.

MARGARET HOWELL . I am the sister of Alexander Hartnett's wife—on the night of 26th August I was walking along the street with Bridget Hartnett—I was in Church-street, where Alexander Hartnett was at work in the sewer—I heard the prisoner say to the prosecutrix, "I want to know your intentions this night"—she said, "You are showing your true character, what I have heard of you, and after this night I shall have nothing more to say to you"—he pulled her by the shawl, and said, "Then I will have your life"—I did not see the knife, as it was very dark, but I saw his hand going up and down, and I afterwards saw that she was wounded.

JOHN CUMBERS (Policeman, R 187). On the night of 7th August I was on duty in Church-street—in consequence of what the prosecutrix said to me, I went back and met the prisoner, and took him into custody—I took this knife from his right hand—it was shut—it is a common clasp knife—there were marks of blood on it, and there are now: they were wet then—next morning, as I was taking him to prison, I gave him the usual caution—he said, "I wish I had killed him, and then I should have been happy."

FREDERICK FISHER . I am a surgeon, at Deptford—on the night of 26th August I was called to the police-station in the Greenwich-road, to see the prosecutrix—I found her lying in the yard, supported on the knees of some man—she was suffering from loss of blood—she was in a perfectly prostrated condition, apparently dying—I examined her, and found a punetured wound in the centre of the chest—on the left side it had penetrated between the ribs; it was about a quarter of an inch deep; it was over the

heart—I found three other wounds, two on the left arm, and one on the right—I considered her life in danger for some time from the wound in the chest—I did not consider her out of danger for ten days—such a knife as that produced would inflict such wounds as I found—two of the wounds, one on each arm, were incited wounds; another was a lacerated wound, and the one in the chest was a puncture.

Prisoner's Defence. When I was a young man, about sixteen, I was at work for a Mr. Massey, and when I was out with young Mr. Massey rabbit-shooting I got shot by him. I have got a good many shots in my bead now, and a great many in the body, and whenever I get a drop of drink it takes my seuses away. I do not remember being taken, or anything at all about it; all I know is that I kept company with this young woman, and I gave her money, 10s., at one time, to buy what she wanted, and I bought the ring; I gave 17s., for it, and she has got it; I gave it her to take care of till such time as we were married. Then, another night after that, I gave her 10s., more, and money to buy different things for the house. After she got the money she set up to laugh and jeer at me, and always pretended she would keep my company as usual, and get married to me. This night I was drunk and knew nothing about it. My belief is, that what the policeman says is wrong; or if I did say what he says it was through his ill-usage, for I was insensible at the time. I did not feel myself in my right senses for three days afterwards, from the blows I had on my head.

GUILTY on the First Count. — Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1108
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1108. DAVID WILLIAMS (17) , Feloniously setting fire to a stack of hay, the property of Edward Johnson; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1109
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1109. FORTUNATUS SMITH (21) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Samuel Bale, and stealing 1 carpet bag, 1 coat, and 5 gold stripes, value 40s., his property; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Eight Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1110
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

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1110. HENRY CUFFE (31) , Stealing 2l., the property of James Eastham.

MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.

MARY EASTHAM . I am the wife of James Eastham, who keeps the Military Train Arms beer-house, High-street, Woolwich—the prisoner, accompanied by a person named Sawtree, came there on 13th October, about half-past 5 o'clock—I had known Sawtree some four or five months before—he has frequently been to the house—the prisoner asked where my husband was—I said he was out, and they said they would return in about ten minutes' time—they went away—I went into the bar-parlour to prepare my money for the brewer—I put down one sovereign and two half-sovereigns for the brewer, on the bar-parlour table—I was called out to the bar to serve a customer, and left the money there—while I was away, William Hall, a young man employed there as a musician, went into the parlour with some tea things—I saw him come out, and as he came out the prisoner and Sawtree returned—he made way for them to pass him—the prisoner went into the bar-parlour first—Sawtree remained at the bar with me to ask me to send for some beaf steaks—I did so, and on my turning round, after he had given the order, he went into the bar-parlour to the prisoner—I turned and saw the gas was not lighted there; it was lighted in the bar, and the light was sufficient to see anything on the bar-parlour table—they ordered two

glasses of ale—I went and drew them, and changed a half-sovereign for Sawtree—that put me in mind of my own gold—I turned to the table to take it up, and it was gone—I asked Sawtree if he had taken it up by mistake among the change he had taken from the table—he said, "No;" and showed me the change to convince me that he had not—I had not given the prisoner any change—I then turned to the prisoner and asked him if he had by any mistake taken up the money from the table in any change he might have had there—he said he had no change to take up, and he said to Sawtree, "You know, William, when I came into this room I had but two and six-pence in my pocket"—I said that the money could not be out of the room—I took a candle to look on the floor, but could not find it—I afterwards went up to speak to Hall, after which I came down—I conversed with these two about it, both before and after I went upstairs—my husband came downstairs with me, and William Hall also—a policeman was sent for—the prisoner then went out at the front door and ran down the street—he was followed by William Hall's brother and the policeman, and brought back—I was not present when he was searched.

Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. When you first put the money in the parlour, I believe there was no light? A. No; the gas was not lighted, but the room was not dark—I had lighted the gas before I took in the change for the half-sovereign—Sawtree was in the room at that time—it was to him I gave the change—I did not at that time know that the half-sovereign had been given by the prisoner—I did not see Sawtree push the change to Cuffe, and say, "Cuffe, here is your change"—Sawtree put the change into his own pocket, but he afterwards took it out again to show me there was no gold amongst it—Sawtree is not here—he saw all that I have detailed—I did not charge either of them; I requested to see whether they had taken the money by mistake—I said that the money could not be out of the house—the prisoner did not say that there were only they two and Hall, and that I might have them all searched—he said I might have him searched willingly—I refused to have them searched—I did not wish to insult my husband's friend, Sawtree, whom I believed to be a respectable young man—he has been in the police—I went upstairs, leaving the two men alone there—they were both there when I came back—they might have gone away without my knowing anything about it—the prisoner did not offer to be searched by my husband when he came down—after the police were sent for he said he might search him—he did not offer to be searched before the officer was sent for—he did before the officer arrived; almost immediately after he was sent for—it was not at his request that a constable was sent for—my husband refused to search him—I am not aware that after my husband refused, and before the constable came, he said that as he refused to search him he was not going to remain there any longer—I will not undertake to swear that he did not say so; he might, and I not have heard it.

COURT. Q. After your husband came down, did he offer to be searched? A. No; he did after the police were sent for, and my husband said it was more than he dared do.

WILLIAM HALL . I was lodging at the Military Train Arms public-house on 13th October—about half-past 5 o'clock that evening I took some tea things into the bar-parlour, and left them there—I saw a sovereign and two half-sovereigns on the table when I came out—as I was leaving the room I met the prisoner and Sawtree coming into it—I opened the bar door to allow the prisoner to pass into the bar-parlour, and he went in—Mrs. Eastham

came upstairs to me some time afterwards—I was fetched down, and saw the prisoner and Sawtree there—Mrs. Eastham asked me where I saw the money, and I pointed out the particular spot where I was positive I saw it—it was on the centre of the table—that was in the prisoner's presence—she told me, when she came upstairs to me, that it was gone—a constable was sent for, and came, and the prisoner edged towards the bar door, got to the door, and then he got up as far as the front door, which was open; he got out there and ran away—he was followed by my brother.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you present when he was searched? A. No.

HENRY HALL . I was at this public-house on Monday afternoon, 30th October—in consequence of something I heard, I followed the prisoner down the street, and took him—he was brought back again by a policeman.

COURT. Q. How far did he get away before you overtook him? A. About forty or fifty yards, turning down Bark-alley.

CHARLES PICKLES (Policeman, R 89). I was sent for on 13th October to Mr. Eastham's, where I found the prisoner—I went into the bar-parlour to speak to Mrs. Eastham—when I entered, the prisoner immediately left the bar and bolted down the street, followed by one of the Halls and the pot-man—I followed, and brought him back—I did not speak to him at all before that—he and Sawtree were given in custody on suspicion of stealing 2l.,—the Magistrate dismissed the case against Sawtree—the prisoner said, "I am innocent of it; I know nothing, at all about it"—I took him to the station, and began to search him—when I unbuttoned his coat he said, "You will find a little silver there; you will find nothing else"—in his trousers-pocket I found 8s., in silver, and 11d., in copper—in his waistcoat-pocket I found two half-sovereigns and a sovereign; upon which I said, "Here it is," and held it up—he said, "That's it, is it?"—he said nothing now—I found no gold on Sawtree.

COURT. Q. Which waistcoat-pocket was it in? A. In the fob-pocket—there were two ordinary pockets and a fob-pocket; I mean a watch-pocket.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read at follows:—"When I left home yesterday morning I changed, at London-bridge, a sovereign. I brought from home with me a shilling, and I got a savereign on my way at a house I called at, and changed the sovereign when at the London-bridge station. I got half a sovereign in change for the sovereign, and, when I got to Woolwich, Sawtree took me, to a house to have a beef-steak and a glass of ale. He told me the people of the house were acquaintances of his, and we should get it properly attended to. The landlady asked us through the middle room into the bar-parlour. Sawtree called for a pint of ale, and had some conversation with the landlady; there was no light in the room. Supposing Sawtree had got no money, I said I would pay for the pint of ale, and I gave him half a sovereign to pay for it, and the landlady brought in the change and put it on the table. Sawtree shoved the money to me, and said, 'That is your change.' I took the money up and put it into my pocket; I did not examine it. A little while after, we were drinking the ale; the landlady came in, and Sawtree asked her about the steak. She said she had to send for it. She then went to light the gas, and Sawtree assisted her, and she then said she had missed, I don't know whether she said 'two sovereigns' or 'a sovereign and two half-sovereigns.' Sawtree got up and asked her if she was quite certain she left it there, and she said she was. I said I did not see it, but, as there were no others there, she had a right to have us both searched; I told her I was quite willing for it to be done to me. She went upstairs and left us in the parlour, and some time after that

her husband and these other two men came down. I told the husband I was willing to have my pockets examined, and after that the constable came in. We were then brought to the station, and I had no knowledge whatever that there was any gold in my pocket. The only way in which I can account for the money is, that it was taken up in the change when it was pushed over to me."

The prisoner received a very good character.

GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury in consequence of his previous good character, and their believing that he had yielded to a sudden temptation. Confined Four Months

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1111
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentencesImprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

1111. CHARLES MEADOWS (15) , Stealing 10lbs. of lard and 1 bladder, the property of William Benjamin Blackmore, his master; and ELIZA NOAKES (34) , Feloniously receiving the same.

MEADOWS PLEADED GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor, who also engaged to receive him back into his employment. Confined Four Days

MR. WAY conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM BENJAMIN BLACKMORE . I am a cheesemonger, living at 13, Church-street, Greenwich—on Saturday last the prisoner Meadows was in my employ as errand boy—I have a warehouse at the back of my shop—in consequence of some losses, I marked eleven bladders of lard, by the instructions of a policeman, but not in his presence, and put them in the ware-house last Saturday morning—between 8 and 9 that evening the policeman came to me bringing the two prisoners and a bladder of lard, which was mine, and was one of the eleven that was marked, and safe in my warehouse in the morning—there is a back door from my warehouse, so that any one might go out of it without passing through the shop—I had not sold nor authorized any one to sell any lard from the warehouse—the bladder of lard is worth 7s.,

Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. Have you a large establishment there? A. I have—four people serve in the shop; sometimes five—they are not here—I can tell by inquiry that that bladder of lard was not sold in the regular course of business—I have other lard in my shop—the stock is kept in the warehouse—it is not possible for a person to go to the warehouse for some if the lard in the shop was all sold—the stock kept in the ware-house is more for wholesale purposes.

COURT. Q. Was there some lard left in the shop at 8 o'clock last Saturday evening? A. Yes.

JAMES MARGETSON (Policeman, R 122). Last Saturday night I was in North-street, Greenwich, where the female prisoner and her husband keep a marine store shop—I saw Meadows come out from there—I stopped him and asked him what he had been there for; he made no reply—I took him back into the marine store shop, where I saw two little children sitting by the fire in the shop—I asked where their father and mother were; they made no reply—I went into the back room, and saw a light up the staircase—I called to some one up stairs; the female answered—I then took the boy up-stairs and met the female prisoner on the landing—I asked her what the boy had brought there; she made no reply—I then took the boy on to the landing and said, "What does he do here? he has been here for some purpose"—she then went into the back room, which was a sort of lumber room, full of rags and bones and different articles; she said, "Come in here and I will give it you"—I followed her in and she took this bladder of lard from among some rags and handed it to me—I said to the boy, "Is this what you

have brought?"—he said, "Yes"—we went down stairs, and I asked where the husband was—Noakes said he was not at home—I asked the boy, in her presence, if he had ever been to the shop before—he said he had—I asked him what induced him to go there—he said that Noakes' husband had asked him to get some fat—he said, "A few days after, I brought a bladder of lard"—I asked him what was paid for it—he said, "One dulling"—that was for the first of the six; he said he had been there six times and had taken six bladders, for each of which he had received one shilling, each bladder weighing from 8lbs. to 10lbs.—this was all in Noakes' presence—I asked him whether he had ever taken anything else—he said, "Yes," he had also taken a quantity of chaff and corn to Noakes' husband—I then asked Noakes to to go to the station with me; she began to cry and said she could not go, as she had no shawl to put on till her husband came home—the boy said to me, in her presence, that he had not been paid for this lard; that he was to call on Sunday morning for a shilling—Noakes, at the same time, said that she had not bought the bladder of lard; she had not paid for it—I said, "That's no matter at all about paying for it; I found it in your premises concealed"—on looking round, I saw her shawl hanging on the bed—I said, "Here is your shawl; put it on, and come with me"—she did so—on going outside the door, I met her husband—he said, "What is all this about; what's the matter?"—I then told him that the boy was in custody for stealing a bladder of lard, and his wife in custody for receiving it—he said, "I know nothing about it"—the boy repeated his former statement in the presence of the husband and the female prisoner—she said nothing then, but the husband said he had never had anything of the sort, and had never received anything—the boy said, "Yes, you have; and more than that, you have sent a little boy up into the Mews to ask me to get some chaff and corn for your donkey"—he denied that he knew of anything of the sort—this (produced) is the bladder of lard—Meadows made a similar statement at the police-station.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that Noakes' husband keeps the marine store shop? A. Yes—the room where the lard was was dark—I could not swear positively whether the lard was on the rags or covered over; but I believe it was covered over—I was close to her when I went into the room.

GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1112
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1112. GEORGE KAY (16) , Embezzling, on 22d September, 1l., 10s., 11d., and on 11th October 5s., 0 1/2 d., the property of Thomas Hambrook, his master; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1113
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1113. WILLIAM PAGE (18) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY —(See next case.)

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1114
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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1114. WILLIAM PAGE was again indicted with HENRY TILSON (18) , for unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; to which

PAGE— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.

TILSON— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1115
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > no evidence

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1115. EDWIN WHITE (35), and ABIGAIL WHITE (30) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; to which

EDWIN— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months; and no evidence was offered againt ABIGAIL.— NOT GUILTY .

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1116
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1116. MARY LAWLER (27), was indicted for a like offence.

MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM WOOD . I live at 9, York-terrace, Charlton, and assist Mrs. Irving at a stand in Greenwich-market—on 11th September, I was at the stall with her, when the prisoner came for half a dozen greens, which came to 6d., and gave my mistress 1s.,—I saw that it was bad, tried it, put it in my pocket, took it home, wrapped it in paper, and put it in a box—I afterwards gave it to Fox—this is it (produced)—on Saturday, 13th, the prisoner came again, bought half a dozen greens, and tendered me another bad shilling—I tried it with my teeth, and being busy gave it back to her, and asked her for a good one, which she gave me.

WILLIAM WEEKS . I am a market gardener of Old Charlton—on 16th September, the prisoner came to my stall with her husband, and asked me the price of some carrots—I said, "Threepence a bunch"—she took a bunch and gave me a shilling—I followed her and told her it was bad; she seemed surprised and gave me another for it—I put it in paper in my pocket, and when I went home placed it in a drawer by itself, till I gave it to Fox—this is it (produced).

MARY WILLIAMSON . I am the wife of Matthew Williamson, and keep a general shop in Exchequer-place, Lewisham—on the evening of 2d October, the prisoner came and asked if I had a saveloy—I said, "Yes"—she then asked for half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1 1/2 d., and put down a shilling—I gave her the change, and put it in the till—I had a shilling there besides, and two or three sixpences and some threepenny pieces—as soon as she got to the door the thought struck me that it was bad, and I went to the till and found one bad shilling and one good one—I kept the bad one in my hand, went to Mr. Riddington's shop, and gave it to Fox about a quarter of an hour afterwards—this is it (produced)—I saw the prisoner in custody the same evening—she said that she had never been in my shop—I have no doubt she is the woman—she had a bonnet and shawl on.

Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Was it after 6 o'clock? A. From 6 o'clock to ten minutes past; it was quite dusk; there was no gas burning in the shop—I have been examined before the Magistrate—directly I took the shilling out of the till, I ran to the door, and saw a female going up the path, not towards the baker's shop, but in the other direction—I ran after her and it was not the prisoner; that was two minutes after she left.

MR. ROWDEN. Q. I understand you went the wrong way? A. Yes; up the road instead of down—I have no doubt the prisoner is the woman.

ELIZABETH LOKAR . I live at Mr. Riddington's, a baker, at Lewisham, three or four minutes' walk from the last witness—on 2d October, about twenty minutes past 6 in the evening, the prisoner came and asked for some pastry—I said that I had only one tart left—she said, "Have you no more of any kind whatever?"—I said, "No"—she bought a bun and a tart, which came to 2d., and put a shilling into my hand, which I held for it as she did not give it to me directly—I tried it with my teeth, and found it bad—I said, "This is a very bad shilling"—she said, "Is it, ma'am; if it is, I had better take it back and change it, for I have just taken it with another one at a public-house below here"—while I was trying it she said, "Here is another; will you take that?"—Mr. Eedle then put his head in at the shop-door and said, "Mind how you take money to-night, for a woman has just given Mrs. Williamson a bad shilling"—I said, "Is this the woman, for she has just given me a bad shilling?"—he said, "I do not know; but if you get any one to send for Mrs. Williamson, I dare say she can tell you"—the prisoner

said, "I am sure it is not me, for I have given no one any bad money to-night and do not mind waiting"—I told my shop-boy, Stubbs, to go to Mrs. Williamson, and Eedle directed him where to go—the prisoner passed between him and the door and went out of the shop—I said, "The woman is going," and Eedle caught her by her shoulder—she said, "You are not going to keep me," and resisted him very much, left her shawl in his hand, and went away—I wrapped the shilling up in paper, and put it in my pocket till Fox came, when I gave it to him—this is it (produced)—it was gaslight in my shop.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you take a good deal of bad money in the year? A. This case is the second—I gave the other one back, and the person gave me good money—Eedle is not here.

ALEXANDER CHARLES STUBBS . I am in Mr. Riddington's service—Miss Lokar called me from my tea, on 2d October, and I found the prisoner in the shop, and Mr. Eedle between the shop and the street—Miss Lokar said that the prisoner had given her a bad shilling, and told me to fetch Mrs. Williamson—I went to do so, but turned the wrong way—I saw the prisoner get away, leaving her shawl in Eedle's hands—I ran after her, and kept her in view all the time, for nearly a quarter of a mile; she was stopped by a gentleman at Vicarage-terrace—as we took her to the station, I saw her put her hand through some railings—we met Fox, and gave the prisoner into his custody.

GEORGE BURGESS . I am a commission broker, of 14, Great Thames-street—on the evening of 2d October, I was near Lewisham Church, and saw Stubbs there and the prisoner with him—I said, "What is all this about?"—he said "She has been passing a bad shilling, and left her shawl behind"—I said, "If you know yourself innocent, come back and rectify it, and perhaps you will get your shawl"—she went back with me and the lad, and as she passed the baker's shop we met two policemen, and we all went to the station-house.

JOHN THOMAS FOX (R 120). On 2d October, I was with another officer and met Mr. Burgess, who gave the prisoner into my custody, stating that she had been passing bad money to Mrs. Williamson and Miss Lokar—she said that she had passed a bad shilling at the bakehouse, but she did not know about anybody else—I took her to the station, and took this purse from her hand—she said, "If there is any bad ones in that, I do not know it"—it contained 9s., 6d., in good money—I afterwards received the four shillings.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These four shillings are bad; the one to Mrs. Williamson and one to Miss Lokar are from the same mould.

GUILTY .—The officer Fox stated that a great deal of bad money had been Passed in the market, some of which was traced to the prisoner.

Confined Twelve Months.


Before Mr. Recorder.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1117
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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1117. JOHN DAVIS (43), ABRAHAM FOX (39), and FREDERICK FREDERICKS (46), were indicted for unlawfully holding an illegal fair; to which they


To enter into their own recognizances to appear and receive judgment if called upon.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1118
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1118. ANN SMITH (40) , Feloniously having in her possession counter-coin, with intent to utter.

MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

THOMAS CUNDLE . I am a ginger-beer maker, and live at 7, Herculesterrace, Lambeth—on Monday night, 13th October, I was at the Victoria Theatre, selling refreshments in the pit; a boy came up to me, bought two almond cakes, price 1d., and gave me a sixpence, which I put in my waistcoat-pocket—I gave him five penny pieces in change—I only had a half-crown in my waistcoat-pocket—the boy went to his mother, the prisoner, and she then gave him a shilling, and the boy came to me again for a bottle of ginger-beer, which was 1d.,—I served him and he gave me a shilling, which I put in my waistcoat pocket, and gave the boy the sixpence which he had given me before, and five penny pieces—he then went back to the prisoner, and she said I had given her a bad sixpence—I said it was the same that she gave the little boy to give to me—she said it was not, and she would go for a policeman—the boy went and sat in the seat—he did not move—the prisoner went out; I worked through the seats and came out too—I then saw the prisoner with a constable—the constable told her to fetch the boy—she went and stopped there about five minutes—I then found the shilling was bad—I am quite sure it was the one the boy had given me—I had taken no other money—I told the constable it was bad, and he went into the pit of the theatre and took the prisoner into custody—I gave him the shilling; the prisoner had the sixpence back again.

Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Did she go outside the theatre to fetch a constable? A. No; just to the door—she was talking to him before I went up—she then went into the pit, and the constable followed her in about five minutes; not more.

HENRY LAMING (Policeman, L 132). I was on duty at the Victoria Theatre, on the night of Monday, 13th October, at the front door—the prisoner called to me at the door, and brought a bad sixpence—she said the last witnesses gave it to her little boy in change—I saw him immediately afterwards—he came to the door to me, and said the little boy had given it to him—I then asked the woman to go for the little boy—she went into the pit and sat down, and did not come back again—about five or six minutes afterwards, in consequence of something Cundle told me about another piece of money, I went into the pit, and found the prisoner sitting about four seats from the stage, and the little boy sitting by her side—I brought her out, and she was charged with passing a bad shilling as well as a sixpence—she said she had not done so—these are the coins (produced)—I asked her what money she had got about her, and she handed me her purse—I examined the contents, and found six good shillings, a good half-crown, a bad shilling, and two bad sixpences—going towards the station, I asked what she had got in her hands, and she handed me 1s., 10d., in copper money—at the station she was handed over to the female searcher to be examined, and a short time afterwards the searcher, in the prisoner's presence, handed me over a bad sixpence and a halfpenny, and said she had got it from the prisoner's pocket; this is it (produced)—the prisoner said nothing to that—there is a parade-ground adjoining the station—it was near half-past 10 when the prisoner was brought to the station—she was left perhaps a couple of minutes in the parade-ground, but not by herself; one of the reserve men who was on duty was left in charge of her; I don't know his name; he is one of the A reserve men—on the following morning L 185 pointed out a spot to me—I was not there when anything was found.

Cross-examined. Q. The constable who you say was on the parade-ground was in charge of this woman, was he not? A. Yes; there might have been other persons there during the day—prisoners went into that parade-ground—they must go post to go into their cells—there was not another woman taken for uttering, and discharged on that day, to my knowledge; I know nothing about it, if there was—the constable who was left in charge of the prisoner is not here—I was waiting for her return from the pit, and she did not come—Cundle told me the shilling was bad, and I went and took her.

THOMAS TITCHNER (Policeman, L 185). On Tuesday morning, 14th October, I was in the parade-ground of the Tower-street station, about 8 o'clock—I found there this purse, containing five counterfeit shillings, wrapped separately in tissue-paper; it was behind a board laid against the wall; these are the shillings (produced)—I have taken them out of the paper.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—this sixpence and shilling are both bad—the three sixpences and shilling found on the prisoner are all bad, and one sixpence from the same mould as the sixpence uttered—the five shillings found in the parade-ground are all bad, and two of them of one mould, and of the same mould as the shilling uttered.

Cross-examined. Q. There is a great deal of bad money about now, is there not? A. Yes, a very large amount in circulation—the average number of prisoners here every session is much reduced—it is now about twelve cases a session.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I changed a sovereign before I went into the theatre, and what bad money was found upon me I received in that change."

A witness gave the prisoner a good characer.

GUILTY Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1119
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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1119. GEORGE WILSON (35) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Cory, and stealing 1 spoon and 2 gloves, his property.

MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY CORY . I am a retired sea officer, and live at 4, York-place, Walworth-road—about 4 o'clock, on 21st October, I was disturbed by a violent ringing of my bell—I got up, looked out of window, and saw two men running down my garden—at the end of the garden there is a wall which keeps it from the mews—I hastened down as fast as I could, and followed the persons with a sword in my hand—they jumped over the wall—I called out "Policeman!" and he said, "I have got him"—I then went back to the house—I found the staircase-window open—it looks on to the roof of a water-closet—by getting on to that water-closet a person could get from the garden into my house through that window—the window was shut when I went to bed, but not fastened—this caddy-spoon produced by the policeman was in the tea-caddy that night, another spoon was some-there in the parlour, and the gloves were lying on the parlour-table—they are my property—one spoon has not been found.

HENRY MOORE (Policeman, P 192). On the morning of 21st October, about a quarter to 5, I was on duty in the Walworth-road—on passing the prosecutor's house, I saw a light moving about in the front parlour—I looked through the blind, and saw two men in the front room removing some things out of a workbox—I then rang the door bell, and ran round to

the mews, fancying that was the way they would come out—just as I got there the prisoner jumped from the wall and ran behind a cart, and turned round in an attitude to meet me—I found this life-preserver new him—he submitted himself to me at once after I had caught him—I searched him, and found on him these gloves and spoon and other property—he said they were all his property.

Prisoner. Q. Did you find the life-preserver on me? A. I did not; I found it where I took you, on the very spot, not at the time I took you, but when I returned from the station, about twenty minutes afterwards.

Prisoner's Defence. I was intoxicated on the night in question. I was certainly along with two other parties, but I was so intoxicated that I did not reach my home. I went to where the policeman says he took me; I was lying there asleep, and he took hold of my collar, and pulled me on my legs.

HENRY MOORE (re-examined). I am sure he is the man that jumped from the wall—I never lost sight of him—I was within three yards of him at the time—he was quite sober.

GUILTY .— Judgment respited.

There was another indictment against the prisoner for a burglary with violence, which was postponed until the next Session, the prosecutor being too seriously injured to attend.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1120
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1120. EDWARD MONK (40) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Rebecca Spencer, and stealing 1 gown and 1 coat, her property.

CHARLES VINEY (Policeman, V 359). At 3 o'clock in the morning of 23d October, I was on duty in East-street, Walworth—I saw the prisoner come from Wood's-buildings, out of Alfred-place, Old Kent-road, about 200 yards from the prosecutrix's house—he had a woman's dress on his arm—when he saw me coming he dropped it in the road, went on the other side of the road, and ran away—I pursued and took him, and asked where he had taken the woman's dress from—he said he never saw it and never had it in his possession—I am sure he is the person that dropped it—there was no one else about—he was wearing this coat at the time.

MARY HARRIS . I live at 5, Alfred-place, Old Kent-road—this gown belongs to me—I saw it safe between 2 and 3 on Wednesday afternoon, 22d October—I went to bed about 11 that night, and when I got up in the morning it was gone.

REBECCA SPENCER . I keep the house, 5, Alfred-place, Old Kent-road—on the night of 22d October my parlour-window was down, and the shutters pulled to—I went to bed about 12 o'clock—everything was then safe—next morning I found the shutters open, the window up, and the Venetian blind pulled down—I missed a black shawl, a coat, a jacket, aud other things—this is the coat—the other property has not been found.

Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about it I bought the coat for a shilling. The policeman has been to where I reside, and found everything correct and honest.

GUILTY.**†— Four Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1121
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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1121. JAMES SEWELL (21) , Feloniously assaulting William Wyatt, and stealing 1 purse and 10s., his property.

WILLIAM WYATT . I am a musician, living in St. John-street, City-road—on the night of 5th October I was in the Crown and Cushion public-house,

Lambeth—I called for a pint of beer, and drank it, and pulled out my purse to pay for it—after paying for it I put my purse back in my pocket, and almost before I could get my band out again, the prisoner, who stood by my side, put his hand in—I put my hand in as quickly as I could to stop it, but he took it out—I told him he had robbed me, and got my purse, and as soon as I said it he knocked me down—there were four half-crowns in the purse—I was sober—I knew what I was doing.

Prisoner. He was so drunk that they locked him up the same night, as they did me. Witness. I was looked up that night—I am sure the prisoner is the man that knocked me down—I did not see whose hand it was that was in my pocket, but when I turned the prisoner was close to me.

JAMES SELLICK . I am a carpenter, in Park-place, Carlisle-lane—I was at Marsh-gate on the night of 5th October, close under the window of the Crown and Cushion—I saw the prisoner holding the prosecutor's head down, while a woman took a purse out of his pocket, and handed it to another man, and they all went down the New-cut together—I afterwards saw the prisoner come back, and I gave him into custody—the prosecutor was intoxicated—I knew the prisoner before by sight.

WALTER KING . I live at 31, Hercules-buildings, Lambeth, and am a shopman in the New-cut—about a quarter-past 9 on this evening, I was passing by the Marsh, and saw a woman come out with the prosecutor—the prisoner held him down while she took the purse out of his pocket, and reached it to another man, and they went down the Marsh—my mate, the last witness, told the constable; and when the prisoner came back, with his cap over his eyes and wiping his face, he was taken into custody.

GUILTY .—The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted of felony, at the Lambeth Police-court, in February, 1861, when he was sentenced to three months' imprisonment; to this part of the charge he

PLEADED GUILTY.* Confined Eighteen Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1122
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1122. HENRY NIXON (20) , Robbery on John Lecount, and stealing 5s., 6d., from his person; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1123
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1123. ROBERT RAWLINGS (17) , Feloniously assaulting Mary Ann Skinner, being armed with a knife, with intent to rob her; having been before convicted of felony; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Four Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1124
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1124. JAMES CHARLES CAMPLIN (28) , Feloniously marrying Jane Seagrave, his wife being then alive; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1125
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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1125. ANN ALLMAN (39) , Feloniously wounding Eliza Aldridge on the forehead, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.

PHILIP YATES . I am a leather-dresser, at 9, King's-place, Bermondsey—on Saturday night, 11th October, about 11 o'clock, I was speaking to Mr. Aldridge at his house, in Angel-place, Southwark; his wife was gone to bed, and I was just bidding him good night; when the prisoner came with a double knock at the door, and asked for her daughter—Mr. Aldridge said he had not seen her for eight or nine months—the prisoner said, "Tell the b——old cow to come down; I have got something for her"—Aldridge called his wife down—she came down partly dressed, and as soon as she

came down the prisoner deliberately struck her a blow in the forehead with something; what it was I could not say—as soon as she struck the blow I went to the door and saw the blood flow, and I laid hold of the prisoner by the right hand, and held her till the constable came up—there was a small bag at her feet with a broken image in it—I picked it up—she said at the station it was hers.

Prisoner. Q. Had I not my little child with me, two or three years old? A. Yes—Mrs. Aldridge did not tear your bonnet off your head—she never struck you at all—you struck her as soon as she came downstairs; before she got off the step of the door—I never played cards with your daughter, and had not seen her for three weeks before this—I don't know anything about her, or you either.

ELIZA ALDRIDGE . I am the wife of Mr. Aldridge—I had no acquaintance with the prisoner before this, no further than her girl and mine playing together—on Saturday, 11th October, I was undressing to go to bed—I was called downstairs—I went to the door and saw the prisoner—she said she wanted her daughter—I told her I had not seen her daughter for these eight or nine months—she said she was told by a woman that her daughter was there for two or three days, and she knew that she was there—she said no more, but deliberately struck me with something across the forehead; what I do not know—the blood flowed immediately, and I became insensible—I remember no more till I was attended by the doctor—I am not under the doctor's care now; I am getting better.

Prisoner. Q. Did not you tear my bonnet to pieces? A. No, nor pull your hair off your head; you were too sudden upon me to put up my hand to save my head—I never struck you—I have not encouraged your daughter at my house—your children are never out of one trouble before they are in another; they are always in prison—my husband did not offer to fight your husband—your husband never was at my place except on the Tuesday after you were committed for trial, and then he said he would give me a sovereign if I did not come against you.

JAMES HENDERSON . I am a surgeon, in Trinity-square, Borough—on 11th October, I was called to see the prosecutrix at the Southwark police-station—she was in a fainting state from loss of blood—she had an incised wound on the left side of the forehead two inches in length, and cut to the bone—it must have been done with an edged instrument—it could not have been done by this key, or the things in this bag.

JOSIAH WELSH (Policeman, M 185). I took the prisoner into custody on the Saturday night—I told her she was charged with stabbing Mrs. Aldridge—she said she never did it, she never struck her at all—she was very much excited, as if under the influence of liquor—I took this key from her apron string at the station—she said that was what she struck her with—this bag was given me by Yates—I made a very minute search for a knife three or four times that night, but found none—there were a great many persons about, and it is a very narrow court; it might have been taken up—there was no blood on the key, but the prisoner's right hand was covered with blood right up her arm, just as if from a pepper-box.

Prisoner's Defence. I was not tipsy. I went after my daughter, to try to bring her home; she had been out three nights. This woman has been encouraging her at her place for these two years. I did not strike her with any weapon.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Confined Six Months

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1126
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

1126. GEORGE FENWICK, alias Frederick Horrocks (19) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l., 5s., with intent to defraud.

MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.

EDWARD HARRIS RABBITTS . I am a boot and shoe manufacturer, at Elephant-buildings, Newington-butts—on Saturday evening, 28th June, about 7 o'clock, the prisoner came into my shop and asked me to change a cheque for five guineas, as he was purchasing a pair of boots in the other shop, that he wanted change, and they refused to give it him, and would I do it—I have two or three shops together there—he said, "You know me"—I said, "Not that I am aware of"—he then said, "My name is Horrooks; don't you remember I used to live opposite your other house in the Walworth-road?"—I said, "Yes"—I did remember him, although he was only a lad when I had seen him before—he said, "This is a cheque I have taken to-day; the bank is shut up, and it will greatly oblige me if you will change it for me"—I said if it would oblige him, I would do it—he said, "You had batter take the 18s., 6d., for the boots out of it"—I said that would only confuse the accounts, I would give him the full change, and perhaps he would just step into the other shop and pay for the boots—I first got him to put his name and address on the back of the cheque—this is it—on the following Monday I took the cheque to the bank.

WILLIAM SPILLMAN . I am a clerk in the Union Bank, Temple-bar Branch—this cheque was presented to me—it is one of our forms—the filling up is a forgery—we never had a customer of the name of Withers; it is entirely a fictitious cheque—the blank form was issued with 100 cheques in February, 1858, to Mr. G. S. Kemmis, who had an account at our bank—he has been dead two years.

SAMUEL SPACEMAN . I am a porter, at 24, Brunswick-street, St. John-street-road—two or three months ago the prisoner called on me with a young gentleman—he asked me to go and take a drop of something to drink with him—I did so—after we had had the drink, he asked me if I knew where he could get a lodging, saying that he had got a fortnight's holiday—I said I knew a public-house where I always took a friend of mine from the country, very comfortable people, Mrs. Moore's—he said, "Oh, I know Mrs. Moore very well"—he went there and ran up a score of about 10s., in my name—he said he would get some money on the Monday morning, and come round and pay me in the evening, if I would let him have anything he wanted—I agreed, and paid his bill, but he did not come for a fortnight afterwards—he then came with a cheque for 5l., 15s., 6d., and wanted me to give him the difference out of it—I said I had not money enough to do so—we went to Mr. Wright's, a publican, but he would not change it—we then went to Mr. Langridge's, where he bought a waistcoat, changed the cheque, and paid me my 10s.,

HENRY WILLS (Policeman). I received this cheque from Mr. Langridge—the prisoner was then in custody.


27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1127
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment; Imprisonment

Related Material

1127. GEORGE FENWICK, alias Frederick Horrocks (19), was again indicted, together with GEORGE WOOD (25), and JAMES MAY (19) , for stealing in the dwelling-house of George Joseph Gillman, clerk, 1 cream jug and other goods, his property.

MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.

CORDELIA GODBOLD . I am in the service of the Rev. James Gillman, 6, Wimbledon Park-road, Wandsworth—on 15th September, about 4 o'clock,

I placed some plate on a bed in the dressing-room; there was a cream-jug, three salt cellars, and a sugar-bason; they were clean, and placed there to be put away; it was a front room—I left the room then, and went there again about ten minutes afterwards—I heard the plate rattle in the room—I supposed it was Mr. Gillman returned home—I went to the door, tried it, and could not open it—I called out to know who was there, and I received no answer—I then tried the bedroom door adjoining, and that was fastened too—I called to the housemaid, who was downstairs in the kitchen, to come to my assistance, and also my brother, who was in the house—he went to the front of the house with a ladder, and got into the dressing-room through the window—he opened the door for me, and we found the plate gone, with the exception of the silver waiter—in the next room there was a gold watch taken, and some jewellery—the drawers were taken out, and some boxes unfastened, which contained them—the watch-case was on the bed empty—I had before this, about 4 o'clock, after I had placed the silver on the bad, been into the dining-room, and noticed a cart and two men, outside; one was holding a nose-bag on the horse's head, and the other was sitting in the cart—it was standing on the opposite side of the road, opposite the next house—I could not describe the horse—I did not know the men at all—I should not know them again—I only saw the back of the one that was holding the nose-bag.

Fenwick. Q. You do not identify me, I believe? A. I don't know any of your features.

EMMA HARRISON . I am in the service of Mrs. Hollis, who lives next door to Mr. Gillman—on Monday, the 15th September, about half-past 4 o'clock, I noticed three men coming down the road from Wimbledon in a cart, drawn by a dark pony; it had a double seat to it—it went to the bottom of the road, then turned round, came back again, and stopped opposite Mr. Gillman's—one of them, who was in light clothes, got out of the cart; it was the prisoner Wood—he went in at Mr. Gillman's gate; he passed our house—he held Mr. Gillman's gate in his hand, and said to the other two, "Don't go up there; stay where you are"—they turned the horse's head towards Wandsworth—one of them got out and went to the cross-turning, and the other sat still in the cart—I am sure of Wood—I am not equally sure of the other two.

Wood. I have got dark clothes on. Witness. I know what you had on then, but I don't go by clothes, I go by features; I noticed you because you stared at me so hard as you went along; I was at the open window—I saw you leave the gate after you had spoken to the other two, and go in—I can't say which way you went—I know you are the person I saw go in—I saw you go for the space of about half a dozen yards towards the front door, but I could not see to the door from where I was.

COURT. Q. When did you see Wood again? A. On the Wednesday morning afterwards, the 17th—I saw the prisoners together, and picked him out.

JAMES ANGEL . I live with my father, in Garrett-lane, Wandsworth—I am under-gardener to Mr. Alderman Gabriel, in Westhill-road, Wandsworth—on Monday afternoon, 15th September, about half past 2 o'clock, I saw a cart with three men in it; the prisoners are the men—Fenwick and May were in the cart, and Wood was sitting on a rail—I was looking at them for about five minutes—they were in front of Spencer-villas, about 150 yards from Mr. Gillman's—there were two policemen watching them; they went and spoke to them, and as soon as they spoke to them they got on to

the cart, and drove over Wimbledon-common—I saw them again about 4 o'clock; they came back again round Westhill-road, and went round towards Mr. Gillman's—I did not see them stop; I saw the cart standing over right Mr. Gillman's before I got up—there were only two of them in the cart then, Fenwick and May; I could not see the third one then—I afterwards saw him come out of Mr. Gillman's—that was about twenty minutes past 4—he had in his hand a red-leaved book, and I could not tell whether it was a vase or a black box—he chucked the book on the back of the cart, and jumped up, and drove off towards Wandsworth, and two or three minutes afterwards the servants ran out and made an alarm.

Fenwick. Q. When you came to identify us, what was the reason that you said three times we were not the men? A. Because people persuaded me not to go against you—I did say at first you were not the men—I said one was more like a fighting man—it was the people who were outside that persuaded me not to go against you; I should not have gone against you if they had not come and fetched me—the policeman said I had better tell the truth, and then I said you were the men.

HENRY HAWKINS (Policeman, V 302). On Monday, 15th September, about 2 o'clock, I saw a pony and cart about 150 yards from the Rev. Mr. Gillman's house—there were two persons by the side of it, May was one, I cannot identify Fenwick, and Wood I saw crossing the way going backwards and forwards before the houses—I had some suspicion of them, and stopped and watched them for an hour and a quarter—I then called Pearson, another constable, and we both remained for some time watching them—we went close to them, and stopped a minute or two by the side of the cart, and had a good look at all three of them—we then went further an—they then got into the cart, and drove away—I did not know either of them before.

ANDREW PEARSON (Policeman, V 195). About 2 o'clock, on 15th September, I saw a pony and cart in Southfields, Wandsworth—I was with Hawkins—the cart was standing—May and Fenwick I believe to be the two that were in the cart, and Wood was out of the cart—I remained there a few minutes—Wood got into the cart—I followed them to Roehampton, and met them returning in Roehampton-lane; they were then all three in the cart—I followed them to Putney-heath, and there I lost sight of them.

Fenwick. Q. You say you believe I and May are the persons; are you sure of it? A. don't swear to you; I believe you to be the men—Wood I am positive of.

Wood. Q. Did you notice what sort of clothes I had on? A. I don't remember; I am positive of your features—you were not dressed as you are now—I did not take particular notice of the colour of your clothes—I am certain they were not black.

ISAAC WATTS (Policeman, N 184). On the evening of 15th September, about 7 o'clock, I saw a pony and cart in King-street, Hoxton-square—the three prisoners were in it—I saw Fenwick get out and go to a coffee-shop in Hoxton Old Town; Wood followed him; May remained in the cart—in about half a minute Fenwick came out with a different sort of hat on, a wide-awake—Wood came out directly after him without either coat or hat on—they ran back to the cart, and told May to drive it home—I saw no more of them that night—next day information of this robbery came round, with a description of the men, and on Wednesday morning, the 17th, I and other officers went to this same coffee-shop—I saw Wood and May come out of that coffee-shop, and took them into custody, and took them to Kings-land station—about ten minutes afterwards we saw Fenwick walk by on the

opposite side of the way; he was taken into custody, and brought in—we told him the charge; he said he knew nothing at all about it; they all said so.

THOMAS BRIAN (Policeman, V 192). On Monday, 15th September, shortly after 12 o'clock, I saw a pony and cart on the roadside in Southfields, about eighty yards from the prosecutor's; two men were standing by the side of it; I identify May as one of the men, I cannot speak to the other—I watched them for some time—I saw a third man come by; it was Fenwick; he had got a box under his arm; he put it in the cart—they stood talking for some minutes by the side of the cart, and then got up and drove away; it was a brown box, about two feet long and one foot wide.

May. Q. If you had any suspicion, why not take us? A. I had suspicion, but as you stopped there speaking together I thought there could not be much harm in you—if you had gone off at once, I should have followed you.

The prisoner Fenwick put in a written defence, denying that he was the person, and stating that he should have been able to prove that, between 3 and 4 on the day in question, he was taking apartments at 61, Pearson-street, Kingsland-road, but that the officers had persuaded the landlady not to appear.

Wood's Defence. I know nothing about it. As for the servant's statement, that she saw me by the gate, it does not prove that I committed the robbery; besides, you all know that servants will say anything to get favour with their masters. The boy Angel said at first I was not the man, but afterwards, on the Magistrate threatening to commit him, he said I was; he would think no more of hanging half a dozen men than he would us two.

May's Defence. I can assure you I am innocent. There was a witness, named Shirley, before the Magistrate, and he said that these men were altogether bigger men than we are; the servant does not identify me.

FENWICK— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

WOOD— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.

MAY— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.

The officer, Watts, stated that he knew of no conviction against either of the prisoners, but that he had previously seen them together, and the coffee-shop from which they came was frequented by thieves.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1128
VerdictNot Guilty > directed

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1128. JOHN RICKERBY (17), THOMAS LODGE (14) , Feloniously killing and slaying Emily Best.

MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM OAKES (Police-sergeant, L 30). On Thursday, 18th September, about half-past 8 in the evening, I was on duty in Carlisle-street, Lambeth—my attention was called to a child lying on the kerb—I took her up; she was dead—I took her to Dr. Carpenter's—I apprehended Rickerby on the 19th, at his employer's, Mr. Johnson, Axe-yard, Cripplegate—I told him it was for causing the death of a child in Carlisle-lane, on Thursday evening—he said, "I was there in the cart, but not driving"—I told him I had a question or two to put to him, but he need not answer them unless he liked—I asked him who the boy was—he said, "I do not know his name; he is a boy that goes with me sometimes; he is employed by my master to go with me; I know him very well, but where he lives and his name I do not know"—I told him he must consider himself in my custody—I took him to the station—next morning I took Lodge at his master's yard—I told him the charge, and after cautioning him, I asked him whether he was driving—he said he was—I told him I thought it was very wrong on his part to he

driving—he said, "Well, I was driving, and driving slowly"—I made inquries, and found the child was Louisa Best—I took the body home after some little time.

COURT. Q. Did he say he was too tired? A. He said he had been out all day, and had got something to eat, and he let the boy drive—I believe he used the word "tired."

ANN EVANS . I live with my parents, at 4, South-street, Lambeth—on the Thursday evening, at half-past 8, I was in Carlisle-lane, and saw a little girl walking on the pavement—she went into the road to cross it—when she had got to the middle of the road, I saw a cart coming from Hercules-buildings into Carlisle-lane—I saw Rickerby in the cart—the horse ran over the child and knocked it down in the middle of the road—the child got up, ran about three steps, and fell against the kerb—I picked her up and found her quite dead—the prisoners were driving very fast—I saw them before they struck the child, as they were coming round the corner—I should have been run over if the other witness had not pulled me out of the road—Rickerby was driving—I saw no one besides him—I believe he had the wins—he was standing—I called out, "Stop," and he drove on still faster—that was after the accident—the cart was in the middle of the road.

COURT. Q. Is it a wide road there? A. Not very—wide enough for about two carts; not for more than that just round the corner.

Rickerby. I was not driving.

MARGARET CHANNELL . I live with my father, at 47, South-street, Kennington-road—I was with the last witness, and saw the cart coming from Hercules-buildings—Rickerby was in it—I did not notice the other prisoner—I saw the child go off the kerb into the road—I can't say whether the cart went over it, but I know the horse knocked it down—they were going very fast; we were near being run over—I do not know the difference between trotting and galloping—I was on the pavement and the other witness in the middle of the road, coming from South-street—she stood looking about at the children, and the horse was coming along the middle of the road, and I pulled her back—I was walking with her—I called "Stop," after the child was knocked down—they drove on, and several boys ran after them crying "Stop;" and they never stopped.

THE COURT considered that there was not sufficient evidence against the prisoners.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1129
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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1129. CHARLES WILMORE (30) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.* Confined Twelve Months.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1130
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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1130. HENRY COX (20) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin; to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.** Five Years' Penal Servitude.

27th October 1862
Reference Numbert18621027-1131
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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1131. THOMAS EVANS (39), was indicted , with other persons already tried (See vol. 52, page 713), for stealing, on 1st December, 1861, 5 tons of rape, 2 cwt. of spun yarn, 1 cwt. of lead lines, and 1 cwt of manilla; and, within six months, 2 tons of rope, the property of the London Ropery Company. Other Counts, for feloniously receiving the same.

MESSRS. METCALFE and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN WARD . I am a mat-maker, of 3, Folly-court, Dockhead—in December last, I was in the employment of Mr. Kompster, of Charles-street, a carman and chandler—there was about two tons of rope in his shed, some months before Christmas, which were put in the van—it was not covered

over—Kempster helped me to remove it to Mr. Learey's, 175, Rotherhithe-street. I believe it is—we left it there, and came away—on 18th February last, I was doing a job for Mr. Kempster, between 8 and 9 in the evening—I took the van out by Mrs. Kempster's directions, and went to the Green Man, Jamaice-level, opposite the London Ropery Company's factory—in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, Bassett and another man, I do not know whether it was Stokes, came to me—I knew that Bassett was in the employ of the Ropery Company; and in consequence of what he said, I backed into the gates of the Ropery Company, when he opened them, and about two tons of rope were loaded upon my ran, which I took to Mr. Kempster's stables; next morning, in consequence of directions given to me, I went with the van and rope to the George, in the Commercial-road, by my master's directions—some man, who I do not know, came up to me, from a street by the side of the George, and spoke to me, and I followed him with the van to the Stone-stairs, Ratcliff—I do not see him here—he went into a public-house, facing Mr. Willis's, and brought two other men out of there—a man named Gray, and Mr. Bigford, came up, and we all went into Willis's—the man who I had followed, and the young man who belonged to Mr. Willis, came out and took over a ton of the rope out—I then went to Mr. Vane's—Mr. Gray, I think, gave me instructions to do so—the same men went on with me there, and the rest of the rope was delivered there—I then went home to my master, and told him where I had been.

Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You say that Kempster is a carman? A. Yes—he has a van, two carts, and two horses—his wife attends to the chandler's shop—there were from three to four tons of rope, I only know by the van and the haul—Gray took as much part as Pickford in dealing with the rope—the rope at Kempster's was where they shoved the van in—she gates were open eight or nine times a day—they open to the public street.

THOMAS MARSHALL . I live at 41, Heath-street, Stepney, and attend to the business of the late Mr. Willis, who was lying a corpse at the time this happened—on 19th February, I bought about half a ton of rope of Mr. Gray—I do not know whose van came with it, and do not know Ward—this is the receipt; it is for 10cwt. 3qrs. 14lbs., 18l., 9s., 9d.,—I gave Gray the money—he did not give it to any one in my presence, but another man was with him; I cannot say whether it was the prisoner—I showed the rope to Mr. Counsell, who came on behalf of the company.

Cross-examined. Q. Is this your writing? A. No—it is the writing of the man who was with Mr. Gray, and Mr. Gray signed it.

JOHN BIGFORD . I am a dealer in tar, and live in the Commercial-road—Gray, who was tried here, called on me about 19th February, and I took him and introduced him to Mr. Willis—we first went to the Stone Stairs public-house, to wait till the rope came—the cart came up with the rope, and the carman, and the prisoner—I heard Gray call him Evans—Gray, Evans, and I went into Willis's shop—Gray said to Mr. Willis's foreman, "Here is the rope, Mr. Willis; perhaps you will look at it"—the foreman came to the door, and I went over to the public-house to wait, leaving Gray and Evans there—they came lack after they had done the business, and Gray gave me, I think it was, 19s., and said that it was half my commission—he was not alone then; they were both together—I do not know the men who came up with the van—I only noticed one besides Evans.

Cross-examined. Q. You took a part in disposing of the rope? A. I introduced him—I knew Gray as a rope manufacturer—I did not know the

man who Gray called Evans before; I fancy I had seen him at the railway terminus, but he was quite a stranger to me—I have seen him since—I met him on Bow-common, but did not speak to him—it was about the middle of the day, as far as I recollect—that was since I was examined here in April.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Was he at work, or was he crossing the common? A. He was walking—the prisoner is the man, to the best of my knowledge.

WILLIAM VARE . I keep the Ship public-house, Queen-street, Rotherhithe—till lately I was in the employ of some manure manufacturers—in November last, the prisoner came to me and brought a sample of rope, to know if I could sell it—I was with Mr. Mellish—Evans left the sample lying there four or five weeks, and Bassett and Stokes then came down and sold it to Learey—that was early in December—they arranged with Learey to go up and look at it—he took them to Dockhead to see it—I did not go with them—I gave the sample, which the prisoner brought, to Learey—nothing was said about the quantity of rope represented by that sample—I was present at Leatey's when the rope was sold by Stokes, and the next morning I went and saw it brought in a van to Learey's—I cannot say how much there was—there was a van and a cart; I dare say they might both have been full—I advanced 46l., to Learey, and Stokes gave me this receipt (produced), but not in the name of Stokes.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you known the prisoner before? A. Yes; I have known him five or six years, as selling manure on commission—he has sold many a hundred tons to Messrs. Mellish, in whose employ I was at that time—he was a commission agent—he has always borne the character of an honest, upright man.

MR. METCALFE. Q. When he brought the sample to you, did he say who he was acting for, or where the rope was? A. He said that he knew where the rope was for sale; but I was busy at the time—he did not say whose it was.

FRANCIS LEAREY . I am a coffee-house keeper and general dealer, of 175, Rotherhithe—Vare came to me early in December, with Bassett and Stokes, about some rope—three or four days afterwards, I went with them to Dock-head to examine it—it was in a coal shed—I do not know whose place it was—I afterwards pointed the place out to Hughes, the constable—no sample was shown to me, but there was to Vare—Mr. Vare afterwards came and brought the rope to my place—I paid 46l., for it.

ROBERT SHAFTO GILCHRIST . I am a sail-maker—my brother is a captain in the merchant service—I live at Northampton-villas, Tottenham—in consequence of a communication I received, I went to Turner's counting-house, Great Tower-street, about the end of November, or the beginning of December—Turner introduced me to Gray, and I went with him to what I now know is Kempster's place, who has been convieted for stealing some rope—I saw I should think between two or three tons there in Kempster's back premises, a sort of coal-shed—I was here in April—after I left Turner's, we met a person in Tower-street, on our way to Kempster's, who I believe to be the prisoner—he came up and spoke to Gray, and afterwards spoke to me—I do not precisely remember the words—he said nothing about the rope until we had passed through Tooley-street, on the other side of the water—he walked along with us—when we got over the water, I asked Gray how much further we had to go—Gray said he was the person who would take us to the place where the rope was—that was in the prisoner's presence—some time after that I asked him if it was as far as the London Rope Company's premises, where we had

to go—he did not answer me—I put that question three times, and he then asked me if I knew the London Ropery Company—I said I knew where their premises were—he said, "It is not so far as that"—we passed a public-house, at the door of which a man was standing, and the prisoner asked that man to get the key, and he brought it, as I suppose, out of the public-house—it turned out to be the key of Kempster's place, where the rope was—one of the two, I can't say which, opened the place—we did not go through the chandler's shop to get to where the rope was—I inquired the price of the rope—I think the prisoner said it was 36s., a cwt.—I said that was too much, that I thought 30s., was sufficient—he said it was cheap at 36s.,—I did not purchase any—it was really very cheap indeed at 36s.,—I had some reason to believe whose rope it was when I spoke, and I believed it was stolen, and I endeavoured to bring down the price—it was so cheap, that I thought it was stolen—I believed it was the London Ropery Company's rope—in my belief, that rope was worth between 50s., and 60s.,—I went away, and told Turner my suspicions—I met the prisoner in Billiter-square, in the City, a week or ten days after—he stopped me, and said that he had not disposed of the rope, and if I would induce Messrs. Turner to purchase any, he would give me 3s., or 4s., a cwt for disposing of it—I went to look at the rope for Messrs. Turner—I asked him, when I met him in Billiter-squa