Old Bailey Proceedings.
9th February 1880
Reference Number: t18800209

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
9th February 1880
Reference Numberf18800209

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Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,










On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, February 9th, 1880, and following days,

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR FRANCIS WYATT TRUSCOTT , Knt., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justice of the Exchequer Division of the High Court of Justice; Sir REBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., ANDREW LUSK , Bart., M.P., THOMAS WHITE , Knt., and Sir THOMAS SCAMBLERS OWDEN, Knt., Alderman of the said city; SIR THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said city; JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Esq., SIMEON CHARLES HADLEY , Esq., and EDGAR BREFFIT, Esq., other of the Aldermen Of the said City; WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Esq., D.C.L., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge the Sheriffs' Court: 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 are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.


NEW COURT.—Monday, February 9th, 1880.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-190
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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190. CHALES SMITH (20) PLEADED GUILTY ** to unlawfully uttering Counterfeit coin.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-191
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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191. DAVID COUTTS (18) to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of money With intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-192
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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192. FRANCIES THOMAS ELLWOOD (39) to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of the 1l. With intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-193
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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193. JOHN EVANS (32) was indicted for unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.


MERIANNE FOSTER . My husband is a baker, of 6, Chandos Street—on 15th October the Prisoner came in for a penny bun, and put down a shilling—I put it in the tester, and told him it was bad—he than opened his left hand, threw down a good one, and said, "Take it out of that"—I said "From your opening your other hand and giving me the good shilling, I feel confident you knew that the first coin was bad, and I shall detain you till my husband comes"—my husband came in at once, and went for a constable to whom I gave the coins—this is the shilling; I know it by the way I bent it.

CHARLES GREENHOW (policeman E R 11). I was called, and took the Prisoner, and received this coin—he said, "I am a general dealer, and I must have got it in dealing"—he was taken to Bow Street, remanded, and discharged, and I then returned him his good shilling, which I had received from Mrs. Foster.

THOMAS MATTHEW CROW . I am a chemist, of 31, Wardour Street—on 17th January the prisoner came in about 11.45 p.m. for two aperient pills, Which came to 1d.—he put down a half-crown—I picked it up and examined It, and told it him it was a bad one—he said, "I got it just below in change for a half-crown"—I said, "How could that be when this is a half-crown you have tendered me?"—he said, "Is it?" and took it up immediately and

Put it in his pocket—I walked round the counter, and told him the answer was very unsatisfactory and I should send for a constable—I intercepted him, and he fell forwards on the glass case, pretending to be intoxicated, and I don't think he spoke afterwards—a constable came and searched him, but Only the half-crown was found on him.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. My counter is 8 or 9 feet long—there Would not be sufficient time for you to get out of the shop unless you were quick, because immediately after you took the half-crown from your pocket I walked round the counter to you.

JOHN CHAPMAN (Policeman C R 19). I was called to Mr. crowe's shop, and saw the prisoner there—I asked him where he had got it from—he made no answer—I took him to the station with the assistance of another constable—I should say he was sober.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad half-crown and shilling—they are very good imitations.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he got the coins in change for a half-sovereign.

GUILTY **.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-194
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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194. JOSEPH ELLENWOOD (42) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit Coin.


ALLICE ROBERTS . I keen the Block Horse, 400, Oxford Street—on a day In December one of my assistants who has left called my attention to the prisoner, and handed me in his presence a bad half-crown—I said, "Are you aware this is a bad coin?"—he said "No," took it out of my hand. And put down 2d., and left the house—the potman went after him.

Cross-examined by the prisoner, you did not tell me you got it by selling Some work in the neighbourhood of the seven Dials.

GEORGE MARCHANE I am potman at the Block Horse—I was on a ladder cleaning the windows inside about 2 o'clock when the prisoner came in—I saw Fanny Reid serve him, and saw her speak to her mistress as he was going out—she spoke to me, and I followed him nearly a quarter of a mile—he kept turning his head and saw me following him, and walked sharper and tried to dodge me—he saw me speak to a constable, and then ran away—I caught him; the constable came up, and I told him the prisoner had been passing bad money—the constable asked him if he had any bad money on him—he said "yes" and gave the constable a half-crown from his pocket—I gave him in charge—I heard Miss Reid give evidence against him at Marlborough Street—I don't know where she is now—he was remanded and discharged.

THOMAS LANCASTER (Policeman C 279). On 10th December, about 2.15, Marchant pointed out the prisoner to me—the prisoner turned and saw that—I walked sharply after him, and he ran over 100 yards—Marchant caught him, and I said, "Have you got any bad coin on you?"—he took from his trousers pocket this bad half-crown (produced), and said, "I have got no more"—I asked him where he got it—he said, "I don't know"—he gave his name, "Thomas Jones, no home"—he was discharged.

Cross-examined. you did not say that you were not aware that it was bad—you did not say that your name was Thomas Ellenwood Jones—I did not say that I would rub it in for you.

HENRY SYMES . I am assistant to Henry Lewis, a cheesemonger, of Tottenham

Court Road—on 31 December, about 7.30, I served the prisoner with three pennyworth of cooked meat—he gave me a bad florin—I said, "It is bad. Where did you get it?"—he said, "I don't know"—I asked him if he had anymore—he said, "Only 1 1/2 d. in coppers"—I passed it to my master, who chopped it in two and gave it to the constable.

Cross-examined. I had no other bad coin, nor did I produce any other at the police-court.

HENRY JAMES LEWIS . I am a cheesemonger, of 24, Tottenham Court Road—about 7030 on 31st December Symes calledmy attention to a bad florin—I chopped it in two, and said to the prisoner, "Where did you get this from?"—he said, "By working down at Billingagate Market"—I said "Have you any more about you?"—he said, "No; I have not; take me to the back of the shop and search me"—I said, "No; have you any more money?"—he said, "Yes, I have 1 1/2 d."—I said. "Are you known to the police?"—he said "No"—I gave him in charge with the two pieces of coin—here is my mark on them.

Cross-examined. I did not say that if you had no more of that sort I would Let you go.

HENRY MAY (Policeman E 161). I received the prisoner—he said that The coin was given to him by London Bridge for pushing some trucks up—I found 11/2 d. on him—he said that the had no home.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This half-crown and florin are bad.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-193a
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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193. KATE DONOVAN (27) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.


SARAH ANN SCHY . My husband is a baker at 21, Moor Street, soho—On 3rd December, about 9 p.m., I served the prisoner with a half-quartern Loaf, which came to 3 1/2 d.; she gave me a shilling and I gave her 8 1/2 d. change—she came again in five minutes and asked for 11th of beard and put down a shilling; I gave her 10d. change and put the coin in the till where there was only copper—I had put in nothing but coppers, but I afterwards saw my husband take to bad shilling from the till—these are them.

JACOB SCHY . I was in the shop when the prisoner came in the last time, between 9 and 10 o'clock—my wife served her—I afterwards took some coppers out and saw the two shilling in the till, but no other silver—I afterwards saw the prisoner in a shop close by, and when I got back it was near 11 o'clock and my wife went to bed—I looked in the till, found these two shilling, marked them, and next day gave them to the constable and gave information.

MARY ANN SMITH . I am a widow—I was in Mr. Schy's shop both times When the prisoner came in—I have known the prisoner from a child and Can make no mistake in her—what Mr. Schy has said is correct.

EDWARD CRACKNELL . I keep a general shop at 28, Dudley Street, Seven Dials—on Sunday, 7th December, about 10.45, I saw my daughter Serve the prisoner with some butter and bacon, which came to 6d.—she put down a half-crown, I gave her 2s. change—two women and a man were with her, and they went out as quick as they could—before they got to the door I found the coin was bad and followed them; they all kept together and Went as fast as they could, you might term it a run—I followed them 400 Or 500 yards—I spoke to a policeman as they were coming out of a public

house—I then said to the prisoner "You have given me a bad half-crown"—she side "leave it till to-morrow morning and I will settle it"—the constable took her, and I gave him the coin and saw him mark it—this is it.

ELLEN CRACKNELL . I was serving in the shop on Sunday night when The prisoner came in with two women and man—she asked for tea, sugar, And bacon, which came to 6d., and put down a half-crown—my father took It up and gave her 2s. change and then went out after her.

EDWARD BURDON (policeman E 315). On 7th December I saw the Prisoner leave a public-house in New Compton street—Mr. Cracknel Had spoken to me and taken me there—I side to her "This man accuses You of giving him a bad half-crown"—she side "I did not know it was Bad," and asked her friends to give her some money, and side "Give him a Good one for it," but none of them had any money—she side that she got It on the ice by selling oranges—I took her to the station and cracknel gave Me this half-crown—she was charged at markborough street on the 8th—she Gave her own recognisance to appear on the 11th, but did not appear; I took Her on a warrant and she was charged on the 18th and discharged.

WILLAM LEONARD (policeman E 426). I took the prisoner on January 16th on information received from Mr. Schy and told her the charge—she side "If you take me down I shall get seven years"—I cannot help that, you will have to get"—on the way to the station she said she did not care as she had not been convicted since 1873—Mr. Schy handed me these two bad shillings.

Cross-examined. I did not say that I would make it as hot as I could For you.

WILLIAM WEESTER . These two shilling are bad, and from the same mould.

The prisoner's statement before the magistrate. "It is a lie, I never was In the shop in my life."

The prisoner produced a written defence stating that she got the coins by Selling oranges.

GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction for a like offence in August, 1873.— five years' penal servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-194a
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment

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194. ALFRED BEST (23) and JOSEPH GEORGE BEST (15) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession with intent to utter it, to which



JHON HENRY RUST . I am a grocer—on 26th January, about 2.30 p.m., I saw the prisoners together in High street, Edgware, in the middle of The road; they parted, and Alfred took the left side and Joseph the right—I watched them from my shop, but lost sight of them for a moment or so going into shops and looking through windows—I saw Joseph cross the road and in a minute or two saw Alfred come out of the postoffice—he passed Joseph without taking any notice of him and came as far as the mason's Arms, when he crossed the road and went into church lane—Joseph crossed over from the opposite corner as if to join him, and I went out of the shop and saw them together about 20 yards up the lane passing something to each other—they came back into High street, and Joseph came on one side of the road and Alfred crossed over and went into Allen's, the stationer's, came out directly, and joined Joseph lower down the

street and passed a periodical to him—Joseph then passed Alfred something from his left-hand coat pocket, and Alfred turned into the mason's Arms—I went in and was shown a bad florin—I then went to the station And two constables went with me and the prisoners were taken.

WILLIAM DAUBON . I keep a post-office in Edgware Road—on 26th January the prisoner Alfred came in for two shilling' worth of stamps And gave me a florin, and this florin (produced) was about three hours Afterwards found in the till—I cannot say it is the same, as there was About seven pounds' worth of silver there.

ANN ALLEN . I keep a stationer's shop in High street, Edgware—on 26th January the prisoner Alfred came in for is "London Journal"—I had not got one, and he took a "Family Herald," like this produced, but I cannot say whether for January—he gave me a florin—I gave him Ls. 119d. change, and put the florin in a separate compartment, apart from Other money—Rust came in almost directly, and I showed it to him—I afterwards showed it to scott—this is it (produced).

ALFRED INGOLD . I manage the mason's Arms, little stanmore street, For my mother—on 6th January, about 3 o'colck, I served the prisoner Alfred with some peppermint—he gave me a florin—I put it in a drawer Where there was no other florin, and gave him the change—scott came in Shortly afterwards—I looked in the till, found the florin was bad, and Gave it to him.

MRAY CARTER . I keep the Old George Inn, Edgware—on 26th January I served the prisoner Alfred with twopennyworth of peppermint and hot water—he paid with a shilling—I gave him 10d. change, and put the shilling in the till for sixpences, as I suspected it—there were only sixpences there—I showed it to my husband, who found it bad—this is it.

WILLIAM SCOTT (Policeman AR 305). I received information and Went after the prisoner Alfred—I found him about 3o'clock, and told him I should take him for passing bad coin—he made no reply—I found Only good money on him, and a cigar-case, a silver watch and a gilt chain, but no newspaper—I received this florin from In gold, this shilling from Miss Allen, this shilling from Mr. Carter, and this florin from Mr. Daubon—Alfred was standing in the centre of the footpath, as if waiting for Joseph to overtake him.

GEORGE PECK (policeman S 378). I went after the prisoner with Scott, and found Joseph on Edgware Bridge, 25 or 30 yards from the White lion—I side that I should take him in custody for being complicated With Alfred in passing bad coin—he made no answer—I searched him at the station, and found 10 bad shilling wrapped separately in a narrow strip of newspaper, 12 good shillings, four sixpences, 1s. 7 1/2 d. in copper, 24 postagestamps, and a "Family Herald."

WILLAM WEBSTER these two florins of 1873 and 1876 are bad, and here is another bad one of 1873 and of 1876 from the same mould as the other—the shilling uttered is bad—the 10 shilling found on george Best are bad, and six of them are from the same mould as the one Uttered.

Joseph Best called

ALFRED BEST (The other prisoner). I am the other prisoner's elder brother—I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I gave my brother this money—he did not know whether it was bad or good.

Cross-examined. I did not take him into the shop with me because I Did net want him to know what I was doing.

Joseph Best's Defence. I did not know the money was bad. I asked my brother what he was doing, and he would not give me a proper answer.

JOSEPH BEST— GUILTY Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Four Months' Imprisonment.

ALFRED BEST.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Monday, February 9th. And

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 10th, 1880.

Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-195
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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195. GEORGE HARDWICK ROBSHAW (40) was indicted for feloniously forging and uttering an accountable receipt for 25l. with intent to defraud.


MARTIN KOSMINSKI . I Carry on business at 37, Milk Street, Cheapside, as a furrier—at the present time my affairs are in liquidation—I was introduced to the prisoner about two years ago by a traveler of mine—about the 1st or 2nd March last he came to me and introduced to me the business of the woolen trade—I had no knowledge myself of that business—he said "Never mind; if you have got no knowledge you will make a lot of money out of it"—it was to be carried on in my name—this memorandum (marked B) is on one of my bill-heads—in October I delivered to the prisoner a number of my blank bill-heads, about 15 or 16 to my recollection—he brought me letters to write, a lot of copies—he copied every letter—he said "You don't know these people; I do, and I will give you all the copies"—he came to me in October, which is the busiest time in our business, and in the middle of the day—he wanted me only to sign these forms, and he was to write the letters, to fill them up with orders—he was not authorized to write anything upon them only orders—the result of my transactions with the prisoner was that in December he became indebted to me about 1,100l. odd—somewhere about 5th December I went to my solicitor, Mr. Lovett, and instructed him to take proceedings on an debtor's summons against the prisoner—after taking that proceeding the prisoner called on me almost every day—he said he had several good bills which he wanted to give me, that I should not go to a solicitor, why throw away a lot of money for nothing at all? that I should arrange with him on the quiet—between 5th and 11th December he called sometimes twice in the day; he continually worried me, always on this matter—on 11th December he called at my office and said "If you come between 3 and 4 to my office everything will be ready for you, and I will satisfy you"—I went there; it was a small place, at 54 Paternoster Row, a broken-down house—he took this document out of his pocket (marked A)—it was drawn out when I got there.(Read: "December 11, 1879. Received from Mr. G.H. Robshaw 675l. in settlement of account to date, inclusive; bill for 400l., ditto 250l., cash 25l., total 675l.") He took those two bills out of his pocket, and said "The first thing to-morrow morning I shall give you the cash"—I had signed the document at that time, and when he said that I took the pen and struck it through, and

said "I shall first consult my solicitor"—I retained possession of the two bills and the paper, and left—I saw the prisoner again on the 19th at Mr. Lovett's office in the presence of Mr. Lovett—Mr. Lovett, referring to the bills, said "They are of no use; if you cannot increase your cash it is your own solicitor and let him come to me, and we shall arrange the hast thing we can do together"—he said "All right," and we went away together—I think that was on a Saturday—this document of 11th December was before Mr. Lovett and Mr. Robshaw at that interview, and Mr. Lovett said "Kosminski has done very wisely that he did not part with the document"—the prisoner walked downstairs with me, opposite the King William statue, and said "Look here, Kosminski, you will run yourself into great expense for nothing at all; let us, settle the matter the best way we can"—I said "I have got my legal adviser, and I shall not de any thing but what he advises me"—with that we parted—I saw him again on the 17th at Mr. Lovett's office—Mr. Lovett said "I have got nothing further to say to you only what I have referred to before; if you can't make up your mind to give a larger amount of money and give me better bills I shall not do anything of the kind, I shall go on with my case"—that was all that passed, and I went away—a day or two after, I think on the 19th, the prisoner came to my office with Mr. Lovett's clerk—he called me into my private office, and mr. Lovett's clerk said "Have nothing to do with him, as we have the matter in hand let him settle with us, he has nothing to settle with you"—I told him not to come any more into my office, and he went away—I believe the 31st December was the day fixed upon for hearing the debtor's summons before Mr. Register Hazlitt at the Bankruptcy Court—I was present at the hearing—after I told my claim the prisoner was called, and said "I don't own Mr. Kosminski Anything, I have got a note of settlement"—I can't say who Actually produced the document, I think it was produced by himself (Read, marked C: "8th December, 1879. Memorandum. Martin Konminski, Wholesale Furrier, Milk Street, London, to Mr. G. H. Robshaw 54, Paternoster Row. I hereby agree to accept in settlement of account to date inclusive, without recourse to bill for 400l. together with bill accepted by Sanchey and Co. for 250l., and cash 25l. paid to me by you on 29th December, 1879; and I further agree to he responsible for any loss you may sustain through goods not equal to sample—Signed, M. Kosminski") The signature to that document is my writing; it is on one Of my bill-heads—as far as the body of the document is concerned, I never Saw or heard of it till it was produced at the Bankruptcy Court on 31st December, and I was like paralysed when I first saw it—it was never Spoken of by Robshaw at any of the interviews I have spoken of subsequent To 11th December—I have my books here—I saw the prisoner on 26th or 27th November, that is to my belief—he bought one parcel of goods—he did not give me two 10l. notes on Thursday, 27th November, nor did I go to him on Saturday, 29th, and say that I wanted 5l. to pay my men with—on the 27th he paid me 36l. in cash; there were two 10l.notez and 16l. in gold, and a bale of goods or two bales of goods, which I have sold for 68l.; the money should be brought the next day; they were blue Presidents, a kind of cloth—I gave him an order on the 26th to a gentleman

named Bond—I did not mean to have any more to do with him, so I sold the stuff to a certain party—he found it out, and he was continually running after those goods—he said "I shall pay you cash"—this is the ledger—36l.was paid to me on 27th November—that was the only payment I received that day—I did not see him on the 29th November; I ascertained that he was in Huddersfield on the 28th and 29th—I did not say on the 29th that I was hard up, and wanted money to pay my wages—I had a considerable balance at my bankers at that time.

Cross-examined. I first became acquainted with Mr. Robshaw about two Years ago to the best of my recollection—I recollect the circumstances Under which I became acquainted with him, I wanted a loan of 200l.—I did not go to him for that loan; that I swear; he had nothing to do with Procuring that loan for me; he might procure it, but he did not pay it—I did not ask his assistance to procure it for me; that I swear, I will explain How it was—I obtained a loan of 200l. in 1877—a gentleman named Roberts, of Friday Street, lent it me—my traveller, Mr. Alcol, introduced Me to Mr. Roberts—Mr. Robshaw did not to my knowledge negotiate the Loan, he came in to Mr. Roberts—Mr. Roberts paid the cash—I Did not see Mr. Robshaw before, that was the first I saw of him—after that I did not see him for two years, and I wish I had not seen him further—I did not require some money in March, 1879; of course I required money—I will swear I have never applied to anybody for any money; I might require money in business, but I did not apply to any one that should lend me any—I had not five cottages which I represented to belong to me, in the parish of Hackney, in March, 1879, representing a rental of 180l.; that I swear—I sold them two years ago—I will swear that in March, 1879, I did not represent to Robshaw that I had five cottages in Hackney which were of a rental value of 180l. a year, and which I wanted to sell for 1,850l.—I know a gentleman named Richard Dixon, a furrier, of Dowgate Hill—in March, 1879, I was indebted to him 1,500l., in two bills—I did not require the funds for the purpose of meeting those bills; that I swear; those bills were running in March, 1879, and were due in May and June—I did not agree to sell the five cottages to Robshaw, I will tell you the reason; he obtained a writing from me—(letter produced—this is my signature—I swear positively I did not agree to sell those five cottages to Robshaw—it was merely to blind Mr. Dixon; he wanted to blind him—I want to tell you how he obtained that letter from me—I sold the cottages two years ago to Mr. Webster, a solicitor, of Lincoln's Inn Fields—(Another letter produced) this is my signature—I will tell you how he obtained all these letters, he is capable of that—Mr. Barnard was my solicitor in March, 1879—a contract was drawn up between me, Mr. Dixon, and Mr. Robshaw, for the sale and purchase of these cottages—That was at the prisoner's request; he instructed the solicitor, he went with me there—it was not done to defraud anybody, it was merely that time should be given—I consented to it—I will explain; on 30th January I ought To have got of Mr. Robshaw 784l. for goods which were sold and delivered to him, I received no money; I said "Look here, I owe a bill, Mr. Dixon has been very kind to me, and I cannot dishonour this bill, you say this money will come in"—he said "You told me once about those cottages; I shall go to Mr. Barnard, your solicitor, and you give me a writing that I will buy the cottages, and before the money will come in I shall pay Mr. Dixon"—I thought there was on further loss—Mr.

Barnard had the abstract of title of my cottages—I went with the prisoner to Mr. Barnard—he did not know further than that it was a straightforward transaction—he called Mr. Dixon to his office and said "I give you a deposit to buy these cottages, the business will be transacted, and in a fort-night or three weeks you shall have your money"—Mr. Dixon went to the bank and took up the bill on that condition; but it was merely a sham, nobody ever had a loss on it; that was the whole transaction—the date of it was in April, 1879—Mr. Dixon did not at any interview with me and Robshaw tell me that he believed that the cottages I had contracted to sell did not belong to me at all; nothing of the kind—I did not agree to give Robshaw 300l. in consideration of the fictitious sale of the cottages; I wear that. Q. Just listen to this, this is a letter that you have already admitted is your signature: "June 30, 1879. To Mr. Bobshaw. Dear Sir,—In consideration of your accepting the sum of 300l. and my acceptance as compensation for the five houses I sold to you on April 2, 1879, I will accept in sums as required by you to the above amount in settlement of all demands, on condition that you cancel the agreement as to purchase with me." A. Whose writing is that? I tell you he has done all this to blind Mr. Dixon—this is Mr. Barnard's handwriting—I represented to Mr. Dixon as well as to Mr. Robshaw that this property was absolutely mine; I had to do so—Mr. Dixon did not in consequence of believing that this property belonged to me give his credit for me to customers—Mr. Dixon could be my referee, I have dealt with him to the amount of thousands of pounds; be is my principal creditor, for 1,600l. odd—I have always referred to him, because I have dealt with him five years; he has not had to pay a penny for me—some of my creditors to whom Mr. Dixon became referee have been left unpaid, because I had to file my petition unfortunately—Mr. Dixon never suggested that these houses did not belong to me; he did not know anything about the houses at the first interview—he knew I had some houses, he knew I had my own house, 36, New North Road—as soon as he was paid I went to him and said "Look here, Mr. Dixon, it was merely a sham, the man has deceived you, because he has deceived me; because you should have your money and not get cross this story was told you"—but nobody has lost a penny on it—I don't know anything about issuing a writ against Bobshaw in reference to an alleged claim by me on 8th December; I gave Mr. Lovett instructions to act for me, I wanted my money—on 31st December I believe the debtor's summons in bankruptcy was heard before Mr. Registrar Hazlitt—I believe an adjournment was obtained, because there was not time to go into the matter—I went next day to the police-court to get a summons—as soon as I saw that piece of paper I said it was a forgery—it was too late to grant a warrant, the Magistrate said he could not read the deposition, it was half-past 5; he said "I will give you at once a summons, but if you apply to-morrow I will give you a warrant, I must look first at the depositions"—he asked me if there was any fear of Robshaw absconding—I said I believed that he would abscond, because he is the biggest scoundrel God created—when I saw this forgery naturally enough my solicitor advised me to give him at once into custody—I did not give the prisoner any notice that I was going to apply for a warrant—the prisoner paid me 36l. on 27th November, 20l. in bank-notes and 16l. in gold—I did not 6ee his clerk on Saturday, 29th November; I did not receive 5l. from him that day—I was asked at the police-court if the prisoner

had not paid mo 25l. on the 29th, and I positively swore no, and I could swear six times over that he never paid me 25l. on the 29th—he paid me 36l. on the 27th, but no further money have I received from that man—he swore before the Registrar that he had a counter claim, which made me in his debt—my solicitor has the two bills; they were dishonoured—I don't believe I told the Magistrate that I could not give any reason for saying the prisoner would abscond—I can't swear I did not—on 27th November I bought a seal-skin jacket from Messrs. Meyers, wholesale furriers—I believe I paid for that with the two 10l. notes which the prisoner gave me—an application was made by Mr. Lee, the defendant's solicitor, to Messrs. Meyers to give the numbers of those notes—I don't know that they refused—no communication was made to me by Messrs. Meyers; that I swear—I heard next day that the prisoner was there with a policeman asking if he could have the numbers of the notes, and they said "Yes, if he went to the Bank he could find out"—I did not know the numbers of the notes; I never take notice of the numbers of notes—I know Martin's the banker's—I know Mr. White—the prisoner called on me several times with him—I cannot say whether Mr. White was present at the interview I had with the prisoner and Mr. Lovett's clerk—Mr. White is a friend of the prisoner—I don't know what ho is—I have had dealings with him; he went buying for me at several places—he has not supplied me with 3,000l. worth of goods—I don't believe he is worth 3,000 farthings—he has not supplied me With any goods; as an agent he has, not 3,000l. worth or 2,000l. worth; it might be over 1,000l., it might be 5,000l.—I send him to Dixon when I can't go myself; more like an errand boy; a messenger—he did not ask me whether, if the order was executed, I was in a position to pay—he introduced certain firms to me for the purpose of dealing; I am in debt to those firms at present—I passed my pen through my name on this agreement of the 8th—I think the body of it is in the prisoner's writing; the receipt stamp was already on it, and I signed it—I did not call on the 11th December to get the bills in consideration of this agreement; I had not seen this before; I signed it without ever seeing it; only at the Bankruptcy Court; that I swear—it was very easy for him to do that—I know Mr. Kirby—I don't know that he was the prisoner's clerk—I have seen him about four or five times at his office—I have been there hundreds of times, and never seen him—I did not swear at Bow Street that I had never seen Mr. Kirby until that day—he has never written out anything for me to my knowledge—on 3rd September the prisoner paid me 68l. cash—I can't recollect where that was paid to me—I was not at the prisoner's office on 8th December—he did not come to me on that day; I swear that—I have not got any entry in my book of 8th December—my people were at the office coining in and out—I have a large business—Mr. Walker, my man, was there, and Mr. Knight, one of my travellers—the prisoner has made a claim against me for delivering goods not equal to sample—in one transaction 68l.—our transactions were from April 5th or 6th, 1879, till October, then I stopped the game—there was 800l. indebted to me, and I did not want to deliver any more goods, and so he helped himself—in 1874 I was carrying on business at 36, New North Road, my own private house—I was not dealing with Mr. Dixon then—I was then working for Bevington and Morris, and Meyers and Co.—I took out work from them, and delivered it to them—I never failed before my last failure—there was not an action against me in 1874—Messrs. Everett and

Smith, of 105, Cheapside, were the accountants in my liquidation—it was not sated that in 1874 my affairs were insolvent—no statement was made about my affairs in 1875—I put my pen through my signature to this paper—I took it away—I did not tell the prisoner that I wanted to enter it in my books—I told him I wanted to show it to my solicitor—I swear Mr. Lovett did not put his pen through my signature—Mr. Lovett, the prisoner, and I had a discussion on the 7th December about the bills that had been deposited with me on the 11th—meanwhile I attempted to negotiate those bills through, Mr. Lovett—I asked him if he would ascertain if the bills were right—on the 13th December Mr. Lovett and I came to the conclusion that the agreement on the white paper should not be carried out—Mr. Lovett did not say that the amount of cash which Robshaw had paid in accordance with the settlement was small—I heard him examined at the police-court; he did not say so—he said "The money that you offer must be increased"—he did not say "He has paid"—he never mentioned the word—I took the receipt to Mr. Lovett's office on Friday the 12th; it was signed on Thursday the 11th—I promised to return it to him—I said "If the bills are good you will give me the same signature on another piece of paper, and one penny will be lost"—it is not the case that if the bills had been good, that which I allege to be a forgery was the agreement that was come to between us—I can swear to God that I never saw this paper—this blue paper does not represent the agreement that was made between us if the bills had turned out right—the white paper is one thing, the blue paper till it was in the Bankruptey Court—I suppose the deficiency between my assets and liabilities is 8,352l.

Re-examined. Those are the accountant's figures—there is a patent of mine which covers the whole lot, for which 10,000l. was offered—that is not mentioned in the statement of affairs—the action I brought against the prisoner was for 1,492l., the balance due to me according to the invoices which he himself admitted—I did not know White before I knew Robshaw—he introduced him to me—he has no place of business—he did not assist me in giving references for me or in enhancing my credit with any persons—he did no more than act as a messenger—I have carried one furrier's business for five years in the City—this letter of Robshaw's professes to be dated 3rd April—I can swear it was not written before June or July—I believe this letter to be Robshaw's writing.

By MR. SLEIGH. I could not swear if it is his or Walker's because they are so near the same. (Read, from the witness to the prisoner: "April 3, 1879. Dear Sir,—I hereby agreed to sell you the five cottages for 1,850l., less conveyancer's charges, payment by the end of May, and I further agree to give an extension of time for payment should you require it.") That was given me in June or July; it is on my billhead.

By MR. BESLEY. Robshaw owed me 784l. for goods at the that time—he suggested getting time from Mr. Dixon with regard to his bills to blind Mr. Dixon—if I had gone to Mr. Dixon he would have given me an extension of time—I went to Mr. Barnard with him—this letter of 30th June must have been written on that day—Robshaw explained that the object of showing this paper to Mr. Dixon was to show that he would buy the houses; merely to give him time; that Mr. Dixon should not know about the woollen business—Robshaw knew that the cottages had been sold; it was

merely to blind Mr. Dixon—no loss was inflicted upon hi, because he received his full money as soon as money came in—I paid him these two bills—he did not have the cottages, because I did not have them to sell, and he did not claim them—the subject of the cottages has not been mentioned to me until to-day—at Bow Street Police-court some remark was made "Did not you sell to Mr. Robshaw cottages?" and I said "No"—I never did sell him the cottages; it was only done to get time—I was not the author of putting these papers before Mr. Dixon—Robshaw went with me to the solicitor, and he instructed the solicitor what to do—I was represented at the Bankruptey Court by Mr. Fulton and my solicitor—that was the second time the blue paper was shown to me—on 31st December when it was first shown to me Mr. Lovett's clerk was there; I at once said it was a forgery—I had nothing to do with persuading the Registrar to adjourn the meeting—I left it with Mr. Lovett—I went before the Magistrate—I had good reason for thinking that the prisoner would abscond—there was a trial of Robshaw v. Smith in the Mayor's Court two years ago—I had heard of that, and I heard that he had been in foreign countries—I heard those human rumours before I said he was likely to abscond.

HENRY EDWARD LOVETT . I am a solicitor of the High Court, and have been so 12 years, and before that for many years in the profession—I carry on my profession in King William Street, City—I had acted for Mr. Kosminski previous to the 4th or 5th of December, 1879, for perhaps a month, not more—I received instructions from him to recover a debt from Robshaw—my first step was the letter of 5th December—I was then supplied with the details, upon which I wrote—I think I claimed something like 1,100l.—I think a writ was the next thing—that was dated 8th December—the summons in Bankruptey, I think, was a few days afterwards—I saw Robshaw at my office for the first time, I think, on 13th December—I had previously had placed in my hands by Kosminski the document marked A—at the same time he brought one of the bills; I think the 250l. bill—that was the day before, on the Friday—at that time the ink erasure of the name was on the face of the white paper—it is not true that I scored it out; it was scored out when first brought to me—it was brought to me on the 12th, and on the 13th I had these papers in my possession—Robshaw came in and said he had come to see if he could settle the differences between himself and Kosminski—I said "I hope we can," and I immediately took up these papers and asked him what the moneys were—he said that he had suggested or arranged with Kosminski to accept two bills of exchange which he had given him, alluding to the bills of 400l. and 250l. in cash in settlement of his claim of 1,300l.—I said "Are these good bills?"—he said "I suppose so"—I said "I suppose, then, you would have no objection to endorse them?"—he said "Oh, yes, I have a very great objection"—I said "If they are good bills why object to endorse them?"—he said "Well, I do object"—he said "Very well, then, I am afraid you will have to fund some better bills than these, and likewise some more cash"—he said "No, this is all the cash I can spare"—I then advised him to see Kosminski with a view to make better terms, and he left—I don't think I saw Kosminski on that day at all—he may have been in the outer office—I don't remember seeing him—this conversation took place with Robshaw alone—on Wednesday, the 17th, Robshaw came again with Kosminski—the papers were still in my

possession—I had caused my clerk to make inquiries about the names of the persons on the bills, and the conversation was almost the same as before—it turned on the terms, and I again asked Robshaw if he felt disposed to endorse these bills—he said again "No," he would not do so—I told him in my opinion they were worthless pieces of paper—he did not say they were not—I said "Can't you give some more cash?"—he said "No, I cannot; that is all the cash you can have," and he and Kosminski left the office together—I saw nothing more of Robshaw between that day and 31st December in the matter before Registrar hazlitt—I was not present then—I was not present when this paper was produced—I saw this paper at Bow Street for the first time—Robshaw never alluded to it in any way—he never alluded to having paid 25l., or to leaving him to bring an action against Kosminski for the goods not being according to sample—in the course of the conversation I said to Robshaw "Why, you owe Kosminski something like 1,400l., and if these bills are met they will only pay 10s. in the pound, and that is a large sum"—he said "That is the best I can do"—that was the first time I had seen him, on Saturday, the 13th—the note in this book produced is in my writing, and was a note made by me of the interview on the 13th—it was made at the time, after he had left, it is in pencil—he did not say a word on that occasion about the 25l. as having been paid on the 27th or 29th November—I have my entry of the 17th (reading it)—up to the 17th there had been no settlement of account with him—I told him the best thing he could do was to consult his solicitor with a view to his seeing me.

Cross-examined. I say that I first saw the defendant on 13th December—I think I saw him, now I come to refer, at Kosminski's warehouse when I called there twice, but not to speak to him—I don't think I saw him to speak to before the 13th: now I come to reflect, I recollect calling on Kosminski one day for an account, and if I remember rightly Robshaw was in the warehouse, and Kosminski called him to assist him to find this paper in a drawer—I am not aware that I required him as a material witness in October—I don't remember any such thing—I recollect an action of Henley and Co. against Kosminski—Robshaw was not interviewed by me in October—I have not the slightest recollection of it; I am inclined to say not—I don't believe I had a long conversation with him in October; I don't remember it; I cannot say more than that; no doubt there is a minute of it in my book if it did take place—I did not draw up an affidavit for leave to defend the action—my clerk may have done it—i have a common-law clerk, and he attends to those things—whether he did or not I cannot say—I should certainly say that an affidavit was not drawn up upon my interview with Robshaw—I don't recollect it—I cannot undertake to swear that it was not so; it is impossible for me to say—Robshaw only brought me one bill on 13th December, a 250l. bill—he did not tell me that he was going to discount the 400l. bill—I had no idea what he took that bill for—he did not ask me to discount the 250l. bill, and if he had he must have known I should not have done it—he did not tell me that he had 25l. in cash, quite the contrary—he showed me the agreement with the name crossed out—he brought it with this one bill—I saw the name on the receipt stamp, as it now appears, with the name crossed out—I gave evidence at the police-court—I stated then "On 17th December he called on me again with the

prosecutor, and was then desirous of carrying out the settlement in the paper"—I never heard of the blue paper with the alleged forgery before Kosminski brought it to me on a day prior to the 13th; I was quite surprised—I cannot express what my feelings were when I saw it—Kosminski had not told me that he was trying to settle the dispute between them, nots word of such a thing—before the 13th Kosminski had not told me that there was any discussion about the amount between them—he put that paper in my hand and said that Robshaw wanted to carry out the terms contained in that paper—he said that he was about accepting what he termed a composition, but after thinking he said "No, I will not do it; I will see my solicitor"—he did tell me before 13th December that there had been a discussion of the amount in dispute between them—he informed me of it the day before he had called on me, on the 12th, not on the 11th, I think or the 8th—I don't think he called on me on the 9th—he may or may not have, but I think not—I was acting for Kosminski in several other matters—I had not the slightest idea whether he was in need of realising these bills immediately that Robshaw had given them—he had actions against him, and he had good defences to several of them—I was advising him to settle some of them: those he had no defences to—when he brought me this paper on the 12th with the 250l. bill it was in the name state as it is now—there was some mention of the differences between then—I did not say to Roboshaw on 17th December that the amount of cash he had paid was too small—I told him that he must carry out the terms—25l. was mentioned—he said he was prepared to pay the 25l. in conjunction with these bills for settlement of the matter, but he never made any allusion to 20l. being paid on the 27th and 5l. on the 29th.

Re-examined. On both occassions the statement was as to a future payment but not as to a past payment.

MATTHEW ODIE . I am clerk to Mr. William Henry Armitage, an accountant—he was trustee in the bankruptcy of Wilton and Learoyd—there was a prosecution at Huddersfield against Learoyd, Wilton, and Dunderdale—I had nothing to do with getting Robshaw to give evidence in that case—I saw him at Huddersfield—I was before the Magistrate on that inquiry—I saw him there on the 28th and 29th November—I don't know whether he was able to be examined in the 28th; he was not examined—his examination was delayed till the 29th.

CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am shorthand writer to the Count of Bankruptcy—I was present on 21st January of this year when the defendant was examined before Mr. Registrar Hazlitt—I have a transcript of notes that I took on that occasion which is correct. (The examination was only partially read.)

GEORGE HENRY JACOB . I am common law clerk to Mr. Lovett—I saw Robshaw with regard to the affidavit in the case of Ainsley v. Kosminski—I took the materials for that affidavit—I saw him afterwards once, on Friday, 19th December, at Kosminski's premises, and I told Kosminski to order him out and not let him be there—I first saw the blue document marked C at the Bankruptcy Count, on 31st December—I was there attending on behalf of Kosminski—the defendant produced it and handed it to his Counsel—I think the Register marked it as an exhibit—up to hat time there had not been any communication to me that Robshaw alleged a settlement of account except that of 11th December—the document

of 8th December I never saw or heard anything of until it was produced on 31st December before Mr. Registrar Hazlitt—up to that time I had not heard my allegation of a settlement of account having been arrived at by the payment of 25l.

Cross-examined. I have been in Court nearly all day—I heard the cross-examination of Kosminski about Robshaw calling at his office with Mr. White—I did not know that I was to be called—I was prepared to give evidence of it—I went to Kosminski's premises to see him, about some other business—I don't know whether Mr. White went there with Robshaw; I saw him there—I told Kosminski to order White out of the premises, and White said he had nothing to do with the matter—no, conservation took place between White and Kosminski during the this that I was there or I should have heard it—I was present at the hearing before Mr. Registrar Hazlit; it was adjourned for a week—I think it was next day that I went to the police-court to obtain a warrant, and I supplied the next day for a warrant and obtained it—I drew up the information myself—the Magistrate did not refuse, but he said it was necessary to have the words put in that Kosminski believed Robshaw was going to quit the country.

CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Issue Department of the Bank of England—I produce two 10l. Bank of England notes, Nos. 30099 and 300100; the 30099 was paid in on 23rd December, through the head office of the London and County Bank—the 300100 was was paid in on 5th January by the same bank—I also produce two other 10l. notes, Nos. 30590 and 30591—they were paid in through the London Joint Bank on 29th November, 1879.

H. J. JACOB (Re-examined). I saw the prisoner's ledger on 21st January, 1880—the number of the note 51 D 43401 was not then in the book—it has been inserted since—the numbers of the notes were not there when I first saw the book at the Bankruptcy Court—I did not notice any differece in the colour of the ink—in my opinion the numbers of the notes look in a darker ink—I did not examine the book on the 21st, I only saw it over Mr. Fulton's shoulder—I did not observed that the total in the column was 25l.,—my mind was not upon that, it was directed to the numbers of notes—I did not see the entry of the subsequent payment of the 5l., and I do not believe it was there—the ledger was not examined to see whether there was a payment of 25l. on 29th November—it was certainly discussed, but it was not examined for that purpose, it was to show that the two 10l. notes were paid to our client on 29th November.

CHARLES HUNT . I am clerk in the London and County Bank, Lombard Street—Messrs. Southgate and Co., the packers, have an account there—on 22nd December I received 17l. to the credit of their account, among them was this bank note No. 30099.

MORRIS BARNETT . I am a piecebroker in Cutler Street, Houndsditch—blue presidents are cloth—to my remembrance a parcel of them amounting to 70l. 8s. 4d. was not bought by me—I think Mr. Robshaw took some goods away from me; I don't know exactly the value—he brought me a paper—I have got the delivery order—Mr. Robshaw brought it to me and got the goods—they were the goods of Mr. Kosminski.

RICHARD WALKER . I act as clerk to Mr. Kosminski—I have not seen

the inside of the prisoner's ledger before, I have been supplied with a copy of it by Mr. Robshaw—the last parcel there is dated November 25th, "six pieces of presidents 68l. 7s."—I know nothing of a payment on account of that parcel; I had nothing to do with the money received—I have received money from Mr. Robshaw; the last money I received from him was about 18th or 19th September, 64l.—I had a dispute with him afterwards about the matter in consequence of his showing me a receipt for 40l.—I was in communication with him about the account down to about 26th or 27th October—at that time he claimed 643l. 16s. 6d., and he said that would be correct—that was not after I had got over the difficulty about the 40l.—I then showed the account to Mr. Kosminski—I found an error after that—I saw him again—I don't know what he them said; he did not say anything about what he owed after that time—I discovered the 40l. error afterwards.

Cross-examined. I never received-stamp is mine—he did not pay me any money in October—I had nothing to do with his payments in October—I might have receipted it—I am in the habit of making receipts for all amounts—if I received the money myself I should sign it in full—if the money never passed through my handsit might be necessary for me to sign the receipt stamp as well as Mr. Kosminski, because I would take the money to the bank—the 40l. was paid by two cheques, one for 50l. and one for 14l.—the entry of the payment on 18th September in the ledger is not correctly made—the 40 and 64 are correctly entered—the letter of April 3rd is my writings—I think I wrote it at 37, Milk Street, Mr. Kosminski's office, I believe at his dictation—I have no doubt of that—I suppose I posted it, unless I gave it him; I cannot recollect so far back—I think Mr. Robshaw was present, but I can't say—I have no diary; I only put down on a piece of paper, if Mr. Kosminski was out, to let him know who had been—I have seen Mr. Robshaw's brother—I don't remember his being at the office on 8th December—I know Mr. Lovett very well—I was not at his office on 12th December—I never saw this document (the white one) before it was produced at the police-court—Mr. Kosminski never told me that there had been a discussions about a settlement between him and Robshaw—I did not know the whole of their dealings; I know they had dealings—the only thing Mr. Kosminski said to me was that Mr. Robshaw wanted to make an agreement, that Robshaw had offered him a certain sum to settle it, but I don't know what it was; I only heard the amount in Court—I don't know whose writing this (white paper) is in—these are my initials to this other document—Mr. Robshaw and a young man named Kirby came to Mr. Kosminski's office with one book or two—Mr. Robshaw did not come to my office with this ledger on the 13th; he did about the 12th—I do not recollect the item of 25l. being pointed out to Mr. Kosminski by Mr. Robshaw and Kirby—I believe the ledger was opened; I did not look into it—it was on the day that there was a discussion with reference to the 40l.—it was gone into as regards the checking of receipts; I don't know as regards money matters—Mr. Kosminski disputed several of the items—I have three rooms—the ledger was opened and consulted in the private room—I heard what took place; all the items were read over—I cannot recollect whether the item of 25l. paid on 29th November, and the two notes of 10l. and 5l. were intems that he disputed; I will swear it was not.

Re-examined. I did not notice the dates; I never looked into the book—my book was shown to Mr. Kosminski; I don't think this book was, it was this brown book—my book was called over—he called out the cash paid by Robshaw to Kosminski up to 20th October, not any subsequence date in my presence—it was in reference to the disputed 40l.; that was the reason I was there—Robshaw kept his own book in his own hands—no item after 20th October was referred to—my book contains a full account of the money payments between me and Mr. Kosminksi up to 20th October; I don't knew what took place afterwards—I believe the account was made up by Mr. Everett's clerk—I cannot say whether it was after the affairs came into liquidation or not—I believe this book was made up from bill-heads, receipts, and documents supplied by Mr. Kosminski to Mr. Everett—it was made up from the other book—I have not got any entry of payment after 20th October.

By the COURT. I heard something from Mr. Kosminski about a proposal of Mr. Robshaw's to make some settlement; that was before I was presented the examination of the books—Mr. Robshaw brought a bundle of receipts, which were checked with the books—during the whole time he had his own book in his own hands or on the counter—it ended by his closing his book and going away—I did not hear how it was settled—these was no settlement come to; they could not agree.

STEPHEN LONDON . I am bail for the defendant—I am the manager of Southergate's business—I do not knew where I got this 10l. nots from that I paid in to my bankers on 22nd December—I am the only person who pays in money to the bankers—I do not know were I got the 11l. from this I paid in to our credit on 27th December—I have not been asked to bring my cash-book; my subposna does not say so—I did not refuse to give the name of my principals—Mrs. Southergate is the only principal and she leaves it entirely to myself—I will swear the 10l. notes were not paid by the prisoner, or on his account; I might have recieved it from him—I cannot tell you to whose account the 10l. notes credited—I might have received 10l. in gold and someone might come in and asked me to change a 10l. note—I have now got the cash-book—it says that a cheque for 56l. 14s. 4d. was paid in on 19th December—there is no entry of a cheque 31l. 0s. 3d. paid into our banker's on 23rd December or thereabouts; I do not see any such entry—as I told you yesterday, I don't know where I got the 10l. from—there is no entry of 10l. anywhere about 22nd December—I am unable to tell you has had the credit of that 10l. note.

WILLIAM REECE (Policeman E 253). On 2nd January I took the prisoner on a warrant—he said to the prosecutor who was present that they would most likely change places.

MARTIN KOSMINSKI (Re-examined). Mr. White did not buy furs and skins for me in November and December to the value of about 1,500l.—he never bought a penny for me—he went to the people where I buy, giving instructions to sell certain skins—he was not the agent for the delivery of 1,500l. worth of skins and furs in November and December—he was only like a messenger; I could not go out myself—the samples brought were about 5,000l. worth, and I kept 12,000l. or 14,000l. worth, and the other I registered—the goods delivered through White's agency were included in my petition for liquidation.

Witnesses for the Defence.

FRANK KIRBY . I am Mr. Robshaw's clerk—he and Mr. Kosminski were friends—I have written 50 or 60 letters for Mr. Robshaw—the body of document C is in my writing—it was written on the day it bears date, 8th December, in Mr. Robshaw's office, and in his brother's presence—there was no signature to it at the time it was written—document B was also written by me; it was perfectly plain, except the heading, before I began to write on it; it is on a billhead, a memorandum form—when I had written it I handed it to the defendant, who left the office with it, and when I saw it again it had Mr. Kosminski's signature to it—I was not present when the receipt was signed—on 13th December I called at Kosminski's office with Mr. Robshaw, who said "Will you give me the receipt you signed in my office on 11th December?"—he said "I have not got it, my solicitor has it, and if you want it you will have to go to him for it"—Robshaw said "Will you give me the receipt for the 25l. in cash which I paid you?"—Kosminski said "I have received it, but I shall give you nothing until I see my solicitor"—an altercation ensued, and I left the room—I waited outside some time, as there was a tremendous row between Robshaw and Kosminski, but the door was closed and I could not hear what it was about—Mr. Robshaw had to my knowledge a claim against Kosminski for goods delivered not to sample—I have not heard that discussed between them; I know it as Robshaw's clerk.

Cross-examined. I have the prisoner about 14th months—he carried on business in the name of Robshaw at 120, Cannon Street, when I first knew him—I never knew him as Harris or Turner or Campbell—there was only one room there—I was not his clerk there—I was introduced to him by Mr. Edward Curtis, and continued on friendly terms with him after that—I became his clerk in June, 1879, at 54, Paternoster Row—all transactions prior to June, I know nothing of—I was there every day from June, unless illness prevented me—I was not in any other service—he kept other books besides this—kosminski's account in this book is my writings—it is the only ledger we had; here are only 26 pages of writing in it—the entries are posted from the day book—I should put the number in the ledger as coming from the day book—these entries are my writing, and these are the prisoner's—they are taken from the ledger I presume, but I might be absent—I was not present when Mr. Walker went through the accounts—I do not recollect the day when the prisoner went down to Huddersfield to appear as a witness against Learoyd and Wilton; I was not in his employ then—I left on 23rd September and went to the Connaught Theatre as box-bookkeeper, but I gave Robeshaw my time from 9.15 to 11 o'clock two or three days a week, and sometimes the whole week; not a week passed but what I was there—I was not paid when I was not there—I was the only clerk—there is no cash-book in which my wages would appear; there was no cash-book in the office, but the receipts for money were there—I wrote document C from 9.15 to 9.30 a.m., in the presence of Mr. Harry Robshaw, the prisoner's brother, and the prisoner—I got the lanugate from the prisoner—I see that it is written in a clear hand, and there is no mistake in it, but I still say that I did not write it from another paper; he read it I believe from another paper—I did not copy it, I wrote it from dictation; it was read slowly from a paper which had been prepared before I went to the office—I did not see in whose writing the original document was—I left the Connaught Theatre

the last day in November, and was at the prisoner's all day long again as clerk from 1st December, and this occurred on the 8th—not a syllable occurred as to why I was to write it and he not—I know that there was a write against my master, but I was not present when it was served—I did not know till after that there was a summons in bankruptcy—I did not know of the demand on 5th December for the payment of 1,400l.—this paper was written about 9.15 on 8th December, the very day that the write was served—I know nothing about paying a 10l. note to Southgate—I knew that Robshow had no banking account—I was not there when the two 10l. notes were paid on 27th November, and the 5l. note on 29th November—he always spoke of it as a single payments of 25l—all the number of the notes on the 29th are in my writing, the red ink and the others—I posted them from the day book—the defendant dictated them to me either on Saturday, 29th November, on Monday, 1st December—I do not know that he was at Huddersfield on the Monday—I will swear that this 43,40l., the number of the 5l. note, was written before 31st December—I will swear that it has not been put in by me since 21st January this year—I did not know that he was at Huddersfield when I was examined at the police court—I swear that on 13th December the prosecutor admitted having received from the prisoner 25l. on 29th November—we were going through the books; Walker, his warehouseman, was there—I will swear that it was not 12th December as Walker swears, it was on Saturday, the 13th—I know nothing at all about this book (produced)—Walker did not call out the cash payments from a book and tick them, off, but Kosminski did; it was in his office I never saw the book before, but there was a book this paper is I believe in Robshaw's writing; there are six pieces, and the last item is 68l. 7s. on 25th October there were one know that the day was memtioned as the 29th, but he admitted having received it I have sworn this "This prisoner told me it was paid in two 10l. notes and a 5l. note," as one payment this is true "I was told by the prisoner it had been paid on 29th November." Re-examined. When I put the numbers of the notes in the ledger Mr. Robshaw had them in his pocket, and when he came into the office he said that he had not paid those notes to Mr. Kosminski, but two other 10l. notes, and asked me to alter them—I took out my pen, and drew the ruler through it, and erased it with red ink, and put the numbers which he told me—I am not aware whether I saw Robshaw on the Saturday or Monday with reference to the completion of the entry, but the 5l. note and the two tens were entered on the same day in black ink—when I first saw Robshow he had two 20l.-notes and a 5l. note in his hand—I may have entered the whole 25l. on the Saturday.

By the COURT. I wrote this at 9.15 or 9.30—the prisoner and his brother were in the office when I got there, and as soon as I went in Mr. Robshaw handed me the blank paper with nothing on it but the printed part, and said "Write at my ductatoin"—he held a paper in his hand—I am sure he did not give it to me to copy from—I have never seen that paper since; I cannot say what he did with it—it was white paper, not at all like this—I did not propose to him that if he gave me the paper I would copy it; he dictated it to me; of course I received my orders from him, and I executed them.

JOHN MORGAN DEER . I am a solicitor, and am at present engaged at Mr. Edward Lee's in Gresham Buildings, City—I have known the defendant several years; he was a client of mine when I was in business for myself—on 8th December, I think it was, he brought this document, and showed it to me; there was no signature to it then, nor was it stamped as it is now—he brought it back to me again signed some days afterwards—it was not stamped them—I made a communication to him with reference to the stamping—he brought it to obtain my advice as to its validity before it was signed or stamped.

Cross-examined. I acted for Mr. Robshaw professionally in 1875, but not since—I do not think he went to Hamburg after that, as I saw him about once or twice a month—I knew that there was such a trial as Robshow v. Smith, nut took no interest in it—I have not read the pamphlet—I am directing the defence as Mr. Lee's clerk—I have been his clerk since January, 1879—I know now about an application for 1,100l. on 11th December—Robshow did not tell me that the that they threatened to sue him as early as 5th December, not criminally—we were not defending the action then—Mr. Downing was—I was not acting for him then, but Robshow was an old client of mine, and he used to come and ask me questions—I do not represent myself as a friend of his—I do not vouch his character—Downing was acting for the defendant, and yet Robshow came to us to ask me various questions on various matters—my getting a receipt for all demands upon the same paper upon which he makes an agreement to pay for all goods is to a certain extent one-sided—he did not show me the two bills—I do not know Kempler and Co.—I know nothing about the bill of 1st December—I did not make a copy of document C—I never saw one on white paper; I only saw this one—I heard Kempler examined at the Magistrate's Court—i suggested the stamping, but I know nothing about the summons to the Bankruptcy Court—in July, 1875, I was in Horsemonger Lane by an order of Baron Amphlet; it was for misappropriating 48l. 12s.—I applied to the Court to be realessed, and the application was dismissed with costs—Ihave been several times insolvent.

By the COURT. I identify this positively as the piece of paper, know it by its general appearance and by the marks on it.

HENRY HARDWICK ROBSHAW . I live at Huddersfield—I was in London from 7th December till the following Saturday—I was in Mr. Robshaw's office on Monday, the 8th, and saw my brother there—I heard him dictate an agreement to his clerk Kirby—I afterwards went with my brother to Mr. Kosminski's office, 37, Milk Street, when he signed this document in my presence—I am quite sure this is the document—he then gave it back to my brother, it was filled up as it is now.

Cross-examined. I said at the police-court "The signing took place before dinner at Mr. Kosminski's office, no one was present but us three; I never saw it again until to-day. I cannot tell the conversation which took place at the interview; the prisoner said he had brought it, and wanted it signed, as he wanted matters between them settled. I do not think there was any discussion." By dictation. I mean that he spoke the words, I cannot swear that he did not read them—this was between 9 and 10 in the morning—I had not gone to my brother's on purpose, I was staying at his house and went there with him, no previous document had been drawn up in consultation with me—I mean to swear that I had no previous knowledge

of the document—I never saw a white paper with some words on it—I am younger than the prisoner—I am prepared to swear that I was not at Huddersfield on Monday, 8th December—I left my home there on the Sunday night at 5 o'clock, and got here at 10—I went to my brother's and slept, and there was not a word about the transactoins of the next morning—he lives at Bexley; I got there some time after 11—I do not think he let me know that he was threatened with an action three days before—I this very man Kosminski—I have been in partnership with my brother—I was not present at the action of Robshaw v. Smith I did not know it 1871 and 1872, at Dewsbury Moor, as blakket manufacturers—I left the partnership in 1872, and have been on perfectly good terms with my brother ever since—he has only been abroad once, that was to Hamburgh, and I sent him goods there—I traded as George Turner and Co., but never as Hardwick; I signed everything as Robshaw—my brother traded as Campbell, jones, and Co., when I was in partnership with him, but not in the name of Harrison—I never had anything to do with collecting the duty on packages of sawdust marked as woollem goods; I never of it till I saw it in the paper.

Re-examined. Mr. Kosminski did not obtain 5,000l. worth of goods from us in December, only between 300l. and 400l. worth—they were supplied by John Mercer and Co., of Stoke, in Midlothian—I asked him his position before the goods were supplied, and he told me he was perfectly solvent.

WILLIAM WHITE . I live at 3, Grosvenor Road, Highbury, and am agent for a woollen manufacturer—I sold goods to Kosminski from people who I represented, and bought goods by his instructions which he required, skills and furs—on 26th or 27th November, 1879, I paid Robshaw 37l. or 39l. by cheque for goods purchased.

(The cheque was missing.)

RICHARD WHITELEY WILLIAMS . I am clerk to Martin and Co., 68, Lombard Street—I have had notice to produce their books, but banker I paid a cheque drawn by Devasse and Co. on us for 39l. 17s. with three 10l. notes, numbers 30589, 30590, and 30591, dated 19th may, 1879—two of them, Numbers 30590 and 30591, correspond in number in this red ink entry, but the lettering we take no notice of.

Cross-examined. I do not recollect at what time of day or to whom I cashed the cheque, but I have a recollection of seeing the prisoner's face, and I think I cashed it to him.

GEORGE EDWARD WALKER . I am managing clerk to J. H. Meyer, a furrier—I have an entry in this book of a seal-skin jacket, price 21l., sold to Mr. Kosminski on 27th Novermber 1 1879—he paid with two 10l. notes and a sovereign—I have entered r. m. s., which means ready money sale, and paid the notes into the London Joint Stock Bank, to my employed's account, on 28th November.

Cross-examined. These are the notes (produced)—Mr. Meyer's name was put on by the bankers.

GUILTY . Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-196
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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196. RICHARD HILL (25) Robbery with other persons on Robert William Johnson, and stealing his watch and chain.

MR. KISH Prosecuted; MR. WILLS Defended.

ROBERT WM. JOHNSON . I live at 249, Kennington Road—on 31st January,

about midnight, I was in Long Acre, I was not very sober—I had a gold keyless watch and chain, value 11l. 10s., fastened with a bar through my waistcoat—I was drinking in a public-house in Neil Street, about I a.m., and I suppose I went out with the rest of the people, and was immedistely knocked or pushed down by down by two men and a woman, and a great deal of violence used to me, as the marks on my forehead showed—they pulled my coat open and tore the buttons off my great coat and my inner coat—I have some slight recollection of seeing the prisoner in the public-house—I afterwards found myself at the police-station, and then missed my watch and chain—that was at 4 a.m.—I had come round a bit then and knew where I was.

Cross-examined. I may have gone into three public-houses, and I think I stayed in the last about two hours—I was not very tipsy, but I was never worse, because I have always been very moderate—I saw my watch and chain last about 12.10 in the public-house, when I took it out to see how late I was staying out—there were ten or twelve people in the public-house—I do not know whether I said that the policeman had taken my whtch and money—the public-house was about 100 yards down Neil Street.

JOHN COULSON . I keep the Crown and Anchor, Neil Street, Long Acre—on 31st January I was led across the road by the men and the woman, they stopped at the brewery wall on the opposite side about twenty paces from my door, and I saw Johnson suddenly fall, and the three persons ran away towards Long Acre—I ran after them with my friend Phipps, calling "Stop thief," and a policeman stopped the prisoner—he is one of the men who ran from the spot where Johnson fell—we picked Johnson up—he was still lying on his face—he was very drunk indeed—we took him to the station the prisoner is one of three persons who ran away.

Cross-examined. This was Saturday morning, last Saturday week—I was only as far if left alone—at the station I heard him accuse the policeman who picked him up.

SAMUEL EVANS (policeman E 291). On 31st January, about 1.15, I was going off duty in Long Acre and heard cries of "Stop him"—I saw the prisoner leading a woman and an old man on the other side—I was about six yards from the prisoner, he was urging the woman along by her hand—when I heard the cry the prisoner tried to pass me, but I stopped him—we struggled, and he knocked off my helmet—Coulson came up and said in his presence that a man had been knocked down—I took him to the station, searched him, and found 3s. 9d. on him and an old penknife—the woman and the other man got away—the prosecuter was led to the station, his waistcoat was torn open and his clothes were muddy.

Cross-examined. We had a severe struggle but very short—there was a little mist but no fog.


9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-197
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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197. RICHARD JARQUES (27) , Rape on Eliza Cocks, aged 10 years.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted.


9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-198
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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198. RICHARD HARQUES , was again indicted for an indecent assult on Eliza Cocks.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-199
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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199. REGINALD CHARLES SEYMOUR (19) PLEADED GUILTY ** to unlawfully obtaining a horse and cart by false pretences, also to feloniously forging and uttering a cheque for 160l., also a bill of exchange for 45l. after a previous conviction.

Five Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-200
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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200. GEORGE SMITH (25) , Stealing 45 handkerchiefs and 4 boxes of David Evans and others.

MR. RIBTON Prosecuted.

SAMUEL COLLIER . I am poter to Evans and Co., silk merchants, of Wood Street, Cheapside—on 20th Jan. at 11.50 I saw the prisoner at the top of the stairs with these four boxes containing four dozen silk handkerchiefs, value 7l. 4s.—I advanced to him, he threw the boxes down and tried to escape—I secured him and asked him to come downstairs and see Mr. Barnes, the manager, and a constable was sent for.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I am sure you had the boxes in your hand, I saw you throw them away.

GEOREGE TUFNELL . I am packer to Messrs. Evans—on the 19th, the day before this happened, I saw the prisoner at the warehouse; he asked me if we wanted a man from Spottiswoode's, I said that we did not at present—I am sure he is the man—I saw him in custody next morning, and he denied having been in our warehouse before—he asked me in cross-examinastion whether we missed anything the day before—I said "No"—on the way to the Mansion House he asked me to make it as light as I could for him, as he had a wife and three children.

CALEB BALLARD (City Policeman). I took the prisoner and told him the charge—he make no reply—he attempted to escape in Wood Street—he said at the station that if he went out begging he got locked up, and if he went out thieving it was all the same.

GUILTY . He was further charged with a coviction at Worship Street in November, 1879, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, February 10th, 1880.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-201
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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201. WILLIAM McKEY (47) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter in.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted; MR. RAVEN Defended.

JOHN SULLIVAN . I lodge in Cirus Street, Marylebone, and am a labourer—at the last Session of this Court I was indicted for uttering counterfeit coin and acquitted—a man named Murply was tried with me (see page 305)—on Sunday the 18th January I met the prisoner at the Welsh Harp—he asked me to meet him next day at the railway arches at Kilburn at 11 a.m. to pass some bad money—I communicated with the police and met him at 11.30 on the Monday, having waited for him—he was with another man—he asked me to stand back, as he did not want the other man to see me—he then tooke me into the Volunteer public-house, Kilburn, gave me some drink, and paid with a 6d.—I said "How much bad money have you got?"—he said "I have got 2l. worth, I have got two half-sovereigns, two of the finest made, which cost me 5s. each, and when I have smashed them there will be 10s. to be divided between us"—I said "Show

me," and he pulled out a pocket from his right-hand coat pocket, and was going to showing me, but the barmaid came to the front of the bar, and he put it back in his pocket—we came out of the house and went down cariton Road, kilburn—I said "I should like some bacca"—he said "I have not got bacca-shop—I put it in my mouth and felt it was bad, it was soft—I looked at it—I pulled a penny from my pocket and paid for a pennyworth of bacca—the officer came by, I gave him a sign and he took the prisoner—I gave the shilling to the constable at the station—I marked it with my teeth.

Cross-examined. I had known the prisoner about six week before he was taken in charge—about there weeks of the time I was a waiting my trial—I had seen him about there times, first seymour place—the first time I said anything about the money was at the welsh Harp—he promised me a coat three weeks before—I did not ask him for one—I was not wearing my own coat—I did not take it off and ask him if he could let me have an old coat—agreed to let me have an old coat on the Monday—he was to meet me on the monday to pass bad money, not to let me have a coat—he left a lamp at my place and I went to his house about it on the saturday—he gave me the coat honestly like a man—I will swear I was not to pay him 3s. for it—I did not pay him anything—I had only 2d.in my pocket on the monday—I was tried last Sessions with william murphy—I was wrongly accused—I was acquitted—murphy got eighteen months—I told the police about the prisoner—I was with the prisoner about twenty minutes at the most on the monday—I went into only one publice-house—I did not say anything the first time at the police-court about the prisoner pulling out the packet of money—I was not asked—I mentioned it the second time—the prisoner struggled with the policeman when he was taken, and asked him to show his authority—I was on opposite side looking at him—I did not see him throw the money aways—I was agood bit behind—I station—I never said I gave it to him as he got hold of the man—I knew nothing about a packet of money being picket up then.

Re-examinated. I knew Mckey gave murphy the bad money to pass.

JOSEPH SAMERS (police sergeant D). on sunday night, 18th January, sullivan made a communicated to me—I followed him to kilburn Railway station next day—I saw him meet the prisoner—they con served, and I saw them go into a public-house—they stopped there some few minutes—they came out and walked down canterbury Road—I saw the prisoner take something from his right-hand waistcoat pocket and given it to sullivan—I followed them to the carlton Road, when sullivan went into a to bacco-shop—it was about 12.20, I looked at the clock in the shop—at a sign sullivan gave me I followed the prisoner and apprehended him—a violent struggle took place—the prisoner threw something away which he took from his left-hand trowaer pocket—after a deal of trouble I got him farther down the carlton Road; another violent struggle took place, and he again threw something away which he took from his left-hand trowser pocket—I did not then see sullivan—we were 400or 500 yard from the to baconist's shop—a short distance farther he took this shilling from his left-hand trousers pocket and threw it the road—he kept telling people not to pick it up—three or four people passed, and peek picked it up—he kept

I struggling—I got to the Edgware Road and put him into a cab—he then put his fists in my face, and said "Now then, man for man, I will do for I you"—I took him to the station and found 4Z. in gold, three half-crowns, I and 4d., all good—I received a shilling from Sullivan the same day outside I the station—on the 24th January I received 19s. from the inspector at I Kilburn Police-station—Peek showed me the place in Carlton Road, about three or four yards from whore the second struggle occurred.

Cross-examined. I followed Sullivan and the prisoner some time—when the prisoner went into the shop I followed and took him as soon as I could—I took him as I was instructed, to Marylebone—Kilburn was a I nearer station—I said at the police-court what the prisoner said about man I for man—I searched the prisoner's house—I did not find any money there—I could not pick up what he threw away, I had enough to do to hold him.

Re-examined. He was taken before the Magistrate the same day, and remanded till the 22nd—it was not till the 24th I heard of the packet being picked up—I arranged with Sullivan on the Sunday night to follow him on the morrow—the first struggle took place about 60 yards from the tobacconist's shop, the second 400 or 500 yards farther on. John Peek. I am a builder, of 7, Offenham Terrace, Carlton Road, Kilburn—I was in the Carlton Road on 19th January about 12.45, and picked up these 19 coins, in a paper parcel, with some paper between each coin—I put them into my coat pocket, went home and looked at them, saw they were counterfeits, and as some one came to look at the house I have to jet I put them aside, and did not think more about them till I saw something about it in the Kilburn Times on the following Saturday, the 24th—X then took them to the police-station—I afterwards went with Sergeant Samers to the Carlton Road, and pointed out to him the spot where I picked up the coins—they lay on the kerb, and a little black bag lay in the gutter—I threw the paper away—this is a similar mark to those I made on the back of the neck on each coin.

Cross-examined. I was not called before the Magistrate.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This coin given up by Sullivan of 1858 and the 19 shillings are bad—five of them are of the same mould as that handed to the police by Sullivan, and eight of the same mould as the one thrown away.

GUILTY .** He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court in October, 1878, of a like offence.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-202
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

202. SAMUEL TURNER (23) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.


PATRICK JOSEPH FLINN . I live at 10, Margaret Place, Great Dover Street—I am a conductor, employed by the London Tramways Company—on 11th January I was in charge of a car running between Blackheath and Blackfriars—the prisoner got on the tram in the Old Kent Road about 9.45, on the off side—there was no light in that part of the road—he said "Jack, let us have a ticket for the Bricklayers' Arms"—the fare was 1d.—I gave him a ticket—he gave me this coin, and said "That is a shilling"—it was rather slippery—I put it in my mouth and it doubled up—I put my teeth in it—I told him the coin would not do—he gave me a sixpence, and said "See if that is good; what is wrong with the shilling?"—I said "I will tell you presently—I gave him a threepenny piece and two coppers change, and told some one to

keep an eye on him—he went past the place he took a ticket for—the car stopped, and I rang the bell and went on again—I saw a constable at the Swan public-house and gave the prisoner in custody—he said he did not know the coin was bad, and was very sorry for it—he gave me no clue to where he got the shilling—it is dated 1879—this is the mark I made on it—he was discharged by the Magistrate.

Cross-examined. I am sure I have not made a mistake—I know your voice—I pointed you out at the police-court.

JESSE PETERS (Policeman P 425). Flinn gave the prisoner into my charge—he said "I did not know the shilling was bad; I have paid my fare, what more do you want?"—I said "You will have to go to the station"—I took him there, and he gave his name, Henry Lloyd, and an address whieh I could not find—I found on him a sixpence, a three-penny piece, and four pence—he was remanded, and discharged on 14th January.

FLORENCE GILL . I am barmaid at the Old Shades, Charing Cross—the prisoner came there on 19th January about 4.40 p.m.—he brought a bottle—I served him with threepennyworth of brandy—he tendered this florin—I saw it was bad, and gave it to my master.

HENRY BRADSHAW . I keep the Old Shades, Charing Cross—my barmaid called my attention to this bad florin—I went to the prisoner and said "This is a bad two-shilling piece; where do you come from?"—he said "Hammersmith"—I said "What are you?"—he said "A general dealer"—I said "I shall give you in charge"—he said he did not know it was bad or he would not have tendered it—he gave me a half sovereign—I gave the coins to the constable.

JOHN SMITH (Policeman A 571). The prisoner was given into my custody at the Old Shades by Mr. Bradshaw for tendering a bad florin—I said "Have you any more of this sort about you?"—he said "No"—I only found a purse on him—Mr. Bradshaw gave me this bad florin—it has been in my possession ever since—the prisoner gave an address in Hammersmith, which I found to be false—I had the half-sovereign, which was good.

Cross-examined. I could not go to 17, Morton Street—there is no such place.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are both bad.

The prisoner in a written defence stated that he paid a half-crown for some oranges, and the florin must have been given in change, as he had only that and the half-sovereign. As to the charge on 11th January, he had been at church till 20 minutes to 10, and therefore the tram conductor must be mistaken.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-203
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

203. THOMAS EDWARD SHEPSTONE (34) Unlawfully obtaining from William Clarke 7l. 1s. by the pretences, and also money from William Elwood.


WILLIAM CLARKE . I am a gardener, near Lynn, Norfolk—on 29th November I saw this advertisement in the Lynn Advertiser—(Headed "Money! Money! Money!" and offering to lend money on easy terms upon application to E. Upton, 101, Caledonian Road)—I sent a letter to that address, applying for a loan of 100l. for 10 years, to be paid by yearly

instalments of 10l.—I received this reply from 33, Hoxton Street (Asking for 7s. 6d. for incidental expenses)—I sent the 7s. 6d. to that address, and received a letter dated 4th December, signed Edward Upton (Headed "Cash Ledger 1020, B Book 139, advance granted 100," stating that inquiries were satisfactory, And asking for the first year's interest)—I again wrote to 33, Hoxton Street, enclosing promissory note, and received this reply of 6th December (Asking for 2l. 2s. to pay travelling expenses of a witness to document, and adding "Say if you prefer gold in place of notes")—I replied, but stated that I was not Prepared to send the two guineas—I received this answer. (This stated "If You want to borrow my money you must send post-office order for 2l. 2s., as All loans are paid in full, only say if you prefer gold to the 100l. in banknotes," &c.) I then communicated with Scotland Yard.

Cross-examined. I posted the letters and received answers through the post—I had no personal communication with anybody—I put the matter in the hands of the police about Christmas.

WILLIAM ELSWOOD . I am a groom and gardener, at Chapwick, near Blandford. Dorset—on 28th November I saw an advertisement in the Western Gazette headed "Money! Money! Money!" and applied to Mr. Edward Upton, of 101, Caledonian Road, for a loan of 40l.—I received This letter of 1st December asking for 7s. 6d. for inquiry expenses; also This memorandum, saying that the chief office was at 33, Hoxton Street; Also on 3rd December this letter headed "Cash Ledger 1019, B Book 189," and applying for 3l. 4s. for interest—I sent my promissory note and 3l. 4s. in a registered letter to 33, Hoxton Street—this is a copy of it—this is the receipt for the registered letter—I also received this letter form that address, asking for 1l. 12s. 6d. travelling expenses of witness to document, and saying "Say if you prefer gold in place of notes"—I wrote on 7th December stating that I should send no more money—I received a reply on the 9th, stating that he (Mr. Upton) had just returned form the country, and that I must send the 1l. 12s. 6d. before I could have the loan—I replied on the 10th, saying that he could have the 1l. 12s. 6d. if he called for it, and not otherwise, and I would get a clergyman to witness the document—I believed the prisoner's statement when I sent the 3l. 4s.—I never got any loan.

Cross-examined. I engaged a solicitor, who gave the letters to the police—the signature does not appear to me to be the same writing as the body of the letter.

ELLEN ESCOTT . I live at 33, Hoxton Street—my husband is a newsvendor—the prisoner came to my shop and purchased a Daily Chronicle—He asked me if I would allow a letter or letters to be sent there in the name Of Upton, as he was form the country, and was not settled—I consented—The next morning a letter came, and afterwards five or six others—the post-mark Of one was Lynn—he called about three times altogether first before a Letter came—afterwards a letter came, and when he called I said "Where I am they are out all day long, and there is no one to take in the letters"—a registered letter came, and the prisoner calling at the time signed for it—the end of the first week he asked if I would give them to a boy, as his old, master, who had sent him away, was going to send him some money—I said I would if he gave me a paper authorizing me to do so, as I did not like giving letters to strangers—a boy came and brought this paper—I did

Not see the prisoner again till January at the Kingsland Road Police-station, Where I picked him out form seven or eight other men—I have a Son named Frank.

Cross-examined. The prisoner's letters were left at our shop about a fortnight—sometimes one of my boys was in the shop, sometimes my husband.

FRANE ESCOTT . I am 14 years old, and live with my father and mother—I recollect the prisoner calling and seeing my mother—she afterwards said something to me—the prisoner afterwards came into the shop, and I gave him a letter addressed to Mr. Upton—I saw him there three or four times altogether—afterwards some boys came for the letters—I picked the prisoner our from about 10 men at the police-court.

Cross-examined. I went to pick out the prisoner before my mother—my Mother knew about it.

GEORGE EDWARDS . I live at 27A, Hoxton Square—I am 15 years old—I Saw the prisoner at the corner or Hoxton Square about three weeks before Christmas—he asked me to run to the paper shop for a Daily Chronicle—I said "All right, sir"—he gave me a piece of paper, and I took it to Mrs. Escott—I saw the boy Frank, bought the Chronicle, and took it back to The prisoner—he said "Go back and get a letter"—I went back—he gave me a penny for my trouble.

TIMOTHY BYRNE . I am a letter carrier, of the Northern Post-office District—I produce a receipt for a registered letter addressed to Mr. Upton, of 33, Hoxton Street, on 5th, December, 1879—it was signed in my presence by the prisoner in Mrs. Escott's shop.

HENRY COPE STRETTON . I am a clerk in the Money Order office of the General Post-office—I produce a paid money order, No, 2754, dated 5th Craven for 7l. 1s.—it was paid on 6th December.

ELIZA FOX . I am a clerk in the Post-office at Aldgate—on 6th December I received an advice note for 7l. 1s., issued from South Lynn, payable to John Craven—the prisoner presented it with that name on it.

Cross-examined. I heard my deposition read over—I cannot say I saw The prisoner sign the order—I am sure that he presented it and I paid him the money.

ALICE MARSHALL . My parents keep a general shop as 8 1/2, Herbert Street, Hackney Road—shortly after Christmas the prisoner came there as Mr. Thornbury, and asked if he might have his letters addressed there, because Where he lodged the people were out all day—he gave me a piece of paper With "Thornbury" written on it—afterwards letters came, something two or Three a day, addressed to Mr. Thornbury—the prisoner called for them for About a fortnight—I saw him every day—on 7th January I saw him taken Into custody—my mother had before that given him a letter at our shop, Which he put in his coat pocket and went away.

RICHARD REVILL (Police Sergeant N). Instructed by my inspector I Kept observation on 8 1/2, Herbert Street, Heckney Road—it is a small Chandler's and general shop—I went in for two ounces of cough drops and saw the prisoner there—I went out—when the prisoner came out I told him I should arrest him for receiving various sums of money from various parts of the country by means of fraudulent advertisements—he said "I

Know nothing about it; you have hold of the wrong man"—he also Said that he was only instructed by and agent, and refused to tell me who he was—I asked him if his name was Thornbury—he said it was not—I said I should take him in custody, and he commenced struggling—I put him back into the shop, and then took him to the police-station—I had seen him receive a letter, but during the struggle I suppose it was lost—I was present when Mrs. Escott and young Escott picked him out from three or four men—he gave the name of Edward Shepstone at the station—I searched him, and found a letter on him signed J. Conolly—101, Caledonisn Road is a stationer's and small jeweller's shop.

Cross-examined. The prisoner said something about if I had wanted I Might have seen Upton himself, but that was at the station, not at the shep—I was not asked that at the police-court—he was very violent—he did Not ask if I had a warrant till I got to the station—for about three weeks We had been making inquiries.

JOHN GEORGE LITTLECHILD . I have known the prisoner by sight for About 12 months as Tom Conolly.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, Feb. 10th, 1880

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-204
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

204. JOHN BROWN (19) , Stealing from a letter-box a postcard, the Property of H. M. Postmaster General.


THOMAS GREET (Police Sergeant G.) About 8 p.m. on 30th January I Saw the prisoner coming from a public-house in Old Street with two other lade—the prisoner went down Wilderness Row by himself and stopped in front of the wall letter-box about a minute—I was 20 or 30 yards off—he walked away and came back a minute—I was 20 or 30 yards off—he went on for six or seven minutes—he want to another public-house at the corner of Old Street—I saw him touch the letter-box, and when he left it I saw him join another boy about 12 yards from the box—they speared to be speaking—the prisoner appeared to have an open letter in his hand, and I saw some fragments of paper fall between the two boys—they than went to Aldersgate Street, and I picked up these pieces of paper (produced), which I have stuck on paper—I then saw a third boy join them, and they walked to Fore Street—the other boys went away, and the prisoner stood for a short time at the corner and then went up to the pillar letter box at the corner of Fore Street, and he touched the aperture—I ran and caught him by the arm, and said, "What did you put in the letter box?"—he said, "Nothing, I was simply reading the notice"—I found on him, some matches and this postcard (produced)—it had on it a sticky substance and was addressed to Mr. Hasloe—he said, "I picked it up just outside the Foresters' Hall," which is about six yards from the wall letter box in Wilderness Row—I went with Elveston and examined the box there, and Found two matches at the bottom of the box just outside, which corresponded With the matches I found on the prisoner—I also found more fragments of the letters I have produced—I then went to the pillar box and examined it

inside—there were three letters in it, and some sticky substance on the envelopes—outside the box I found this piece of string with a bit of lead at the end of it (produced)—there was some sticky substance on the lead—when I first noticed the prisoner at the box in Wilderness Row he appeared to be winding something up—he had some of the sticky substance on each hand.

JOHN WICKS . I am employed at Messrs. Ayres', in Aldersgate Street—on 30th January I wrote this postcard addressed to Mr. Hasloe, King Street, Worship Street—I passed it to Thomas Goods, the junior clerk, to post—there was no sticky substance on it then.

THOMAS GOODE . I am a clerk at Messrs. Ayres', of Aldersgate Street Wicks gave me this card to post on 30th January—I posted it with other Letters in the wall letter box in Wilderness Row—I did not drop it outside—I am certain I posted it—there was no sticky substance on it then.

Prisoner's Defence. I was walking up and down waiting for a friend, and a fellow who was along with me went to the letter box and took out one. I said, "You are a fool if you do that; you might take out 150 letters and get nothing for it." He said, "Never mind," and asked me to read it. I read it, and he tore it up. The postcard he dropped outside Foresters' Hall, and I intended posting it in the pillar box in Fore Street, when I was caught hold of.

Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "There were two other lads With me, and I was not the one who took the letter in Wilderness Row, but it was one of the other lads, and it was one of them that tore the letters up."

GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-205
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

205. EDWARD RABY (33) , Forging and uttering an acceptance to a Bill of exchange for 100l. with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN Defended.

CHRISTOPHER WILLIAM MORGAN . I live in West Street, Bromley, and am cashier at the head office of the Union Bank, Princes Street—at about 1.30 on 7th January the prisoner and another man came into the bank—the prisoner presented this bill for payment (This was dated October 28, 1879, for 100l., at two months after date, to the order of Edward Raby, Esq. Accepted. Payable at the Union Bank of London. Fruhling and Goschen. Endorsed, E. Raby)—we have no customers named Fruhling and Goschen—I had no authority to pay it—I communicated with the chief cashier, and he sent me to Fruhling and Goschen—subsequently a constable was called in.

Cross-examined. I have a fellow-clerk in the bank named Nathaniel G. Dodworth—I believe the prisoner came two days before to the bank with Parrot—on 7th January they came two days before to the bank with Lewis at the Mansion House withdrew the case against Parrot, and he was discharged—when the prisoner handed me the bill I said. "What a moment and I shall be able to attend to your bill"—I was attending to some gentleman who had presented a cheque—the chief cashier asked him into the private parlour, and they waited about an hour while we were making inquiries—then a constable was brought in, and they were given in custody—I have seen a good many bills—this bill is drawn in a usual form for a Foreign merchant—it would be my business before paying it to see that it had a foreign bill stamp on, and had it been genuine I should have returned

it for a stamp—I have frequently seen them presented without a stamp, and have returned them—I cannot say whether it is in foreign writing or not—there is a certain difference between English and foreign writing—it is not a thing I could speak positively to.

Re-examined. It would be useless to present a bill that was not an ordinary formal document—my suspicions would be aroused at once—I saw it was wrong directly—there was no opportunity for the prisoner to escape. Alexander H. Goschen. I am a member of the firm of Fruhling and Goschen, bankers and merchants, of 12, Austin Friars—the signature to this bill is not ours, nor was it written with our authority—the drawers are correspondents of ours—they do not as a rule draw on us for large amounts.

Cross-examined. I know the Watjens and their signature—I should not call that (A letter) their signature—we have a great deal of correspondence with the north of Germany and other parts—this word at the top, "Mittheilung," is the same as our "Memorandum"—I should say there is a similarity between the writing on the bill and the letter—Watjen and Co. do not frequently draw upon us from Bremen—they have a house in New York which draws largely on us—I should say this would be a genuine form of bill from their firm—they have their name printed in this way.

Re-examined. I should say this letter (produced) is in the same writing as the bill.

ROBERT CHILD (Detective Sergeant). I was called to the Union Bank on 7th January, where I saw the prisoner—I said, "This bill for 100l. is a forged bill"—he said, "I got it over a net; I had a big net with a man named Schlotte; I bet him four monkeys to one about Bagman for the Cambridge, and I afterwards had 500l. to draw of Schlotte. I saw him one day at the Criterion and ho gave me 100l., and he afterwards sent me this bill and another bill for 300l.," which he produced, "as payment for the other 400l. He sent them with this letter," handing it to me—I said, "Have you the envelope in which the letter came?"—he said, "No"—I said, "Did you acknowledge the receipt of it?" and he said "No"—I asked him where Schlotte could be found, and he said he did not know—he said "I called at the bank the day before yesterday and asked if Fruhling and Goschen kept an account there, and I was told they did not"—I took him to the Old Jewry police office and told him he would be charged with uttering this bill knowing it to be forged—I understand by "monkey" 500l.—if he had lost he would have had to give the other man 2,000l.—(The letter was addressed to Edward Baby, Esq., 2, York Terraes, London, from E. Schlotte, Bremen, October 28, 1879, enclosing bills for 100l. on Messrs. Fruhling and Goschen at two months; 300l. from Kleinwort and Cohen at three months; and 400l., which with the 100l. already paid, would settle the account on the Cesarewitch, and requesting him not to put them in circulation, as he intended to send cash for them before maturity)—this letter (produced) I have received from the German consul (This was dated 5, The Terrace, Camden Square, London, August 30, 1878, and was an application in reply to an advertisement for a publishing and lithographic agency in England)—that letter appears to be in the same writing as the other.

Cross-examined. It was not after the prisoner's committal that I received that letter from the German consul in consequence of a communication made to him—it was after his arrest—Parrot said he had simply come with the

prisoner to cash the bill because he owed him some money; but previously he had been to his solicitor, and he advised him to present it—I don't think he said in company with Raby—he said he went the day before yesterday to the bank to ask if Fruhling and Co. kept an account there—he did not say that Raby put his name on the bill—one of the prisoners said that Mrs. Parrot had been to Fruhling and Goschen's to make inquiries, as she could speak German.

——LUNAU. I am managing clerk to Messrs. Kleinwort and Co., of Fenchurch Street—this bill for 300l., purporting to be an acceptance of my employers, is a forgery.

Cross-examined. We do not correspond with D. H. Watjen and Co., of Bremen, except, perhaps, once in five years—they are a good firm—the bill is such as would come from the Continent; it presents the ordinary appearance of a commercial bill of exchange.

MRS. MILTON. I live at Kentish Town—the prisoner came to lodge at my house on 26th October—he told me he was a cabman—he left just after Christmas—he was supposed to pay me is. a week, but he owed me 3l. 1s. when he left, with the extra tillings he had while with me—he gave me the two bills which have been produced about 11th December—he came to me one evening, and asked if I would do him a favour and take care of them till the next day; that he had received them from his lawyer in respect of 1,500l. left to him by an aunt; that he was to have 400l. at the beginning of the year, and 1,100l. about November, and he asked me to make out my account, and he would settle with me the following day.

Cross-examined. They were in an envelope—I looked at them as he had told me so many falsehoods, and I had my suspicions—I heard about the legacy in November—I never asked him for his rent—he was recommended to me by an old lodger—he told me he was going to buy the Copenhagen public-house.

WILLIAM HENRY SOTHERN . I am a coffee and eating-house keeper at 2, York Terrace, Camden Road—the prisoner was lodging there when I took the business—he was not with me quite two years—he was a cabman—he paid me 4s. a week when by himself, and when another one was with him he paid 3s.—when he left he owed me 13l. 3s. 7d. for rent, food, and money lent—I have not been paid.

Cross-examined. He was betting in the spring time—he came and took his letters once or twice.

Re-examined. A man named Myers came once or twice to inquire for him while lodging with me.

JOHN MITCHELL (Detective Sergeant). I searched the prisoner, and found this betting-book (produced) on him and some duplicates, one relating to a cab lamp, another to a signet ring, and a third to a whip; also a Bank of Engraving note for 10l., three medals, and a farthing.

Cross-examined. I never saw those notes sold in the streets—I have often been on the racecourse—I don't suppose a betting man would take a Bank of Engraving note for a moment—I notice they generally look at what they take—an entry in the book has evidently been altered from Schlotte, and another name written over it.

Witnesses for the Defence.

MR. COLDHAM. I am a member of the firm of Paul, Fearon, and Coldham, solicitors, of 11, New Inn—Parrot had a public-house under some

brewers for whom we acted for four or five years—on 6th January Parrot came to me and had some conversation, and afterwards the prisoner came in—Parrot had previously handed to me a hill for 100l.—he said the prisoner owed him some money on a betting transaction, and Parrot kept the bills—they had been inquiring about the bills at the bank, and found the acceptors kept no account there—I pointed out to them at once that the bill was unendorsed and was overdue, and asked them whether they had presented it at the bank for payment—they said "No," but they had inquired at the bank—I said "You had better take the bill to the bank, and get it marked 'No account', bring it back to me, and I will write to Messrs. Fruhling and Goschen and ask them about it, or else take the bills yourselves to them," and I looked in the Directory to see their number in Austin Friars—there is a pencil mark here, "12," which I put on the bill at the time—Raby did not endorse the bill in my presence—it was not endorsed when they took it away—they went away for the purpose, I understood, of going to the bank—the next I heard of it was when Robert Child called on me—the charge against Parrot was withdrawn at the Mansion House.

Cross-examined. I am not sure who had the bill when they left my office—I had nothing to do with the bills being given as part of a legacy of 1,500l. to Raby—I don't know whether he had any solicitor acting for him—Parrot is in Court.

NATHANIEL DODWORTH . I am a clerk at the Union Bank, Prince's Street—a day or so before 7th January Baby and Parrot called at the country department—Baby said "I have a foreign bill of yours, accepted by Messrs. Fruhling and Goschen, on the Union Bank of London"—I said "Fruhling and Goschen have no account with the Union Bank of London"—the prisoner turned to Parrot, and I went on with my work—that is all that passed.

HENRY MORRIS . I am a tailor, of Great St. Andrew Street, St. Martin's Lane—some weeks before 7th January the prisoner showed me a bill of exchange—I also saw it the first week in January; I think it was the white one—he told me he had received two bills over some betting transaction, and as soon as he received the cash for them he would come and give me a further order and settle up his account.

Cross-examined. He owed me about 6l.—I was not pressing him exactly—I have made clothes for. him these three or four years.

GUILTY of uttering.—Five Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-206
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

206. GEORGE PALMER (49) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Alfred John Oaks and Francis Cook and others five pieces of winsey cloth.

MR. WILLES Prosecuted.

ALFRED JOHN OAKS . I am a warehouseman in the fancy dress department of Messrs. Cook, Son, and Co., warehousemen, of St. Paul's Church-yard—about 3.30 on the 26th January the prisoner, whom I knew as a jobbing porter, came in and asked for seven pieces of winsey for George Robson, who had sent us seven pieces, and who is agent for Mr. Walton, of Manchester—I told him he could take five pieces—I believed him; and he took them away—they were worth about 4l. 4s.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You asked for seven pieces, and not four—I am sure of the time—you signed the name of John Howell.

JOHN GEORGE LANDON . I am a warehouseman and manager to George Robson and Co., of 38, Gutter Lane—on 20th January we sent Messrs. Cook, Son and Co. seven pieces of winsey cloth—we never authorised the prisoner to fetch them—I know him by sight—we sent our own porter when we heard of the loss—we have no one named John Howell in our employ.

WILLIAM PALMER (City Policeman 464.) I arrested the prisoner on 29th January at 42, Cheapside, where he was that day employed as jobbing porter—I charged him with obtaining goods from messrs. Cook, Son, and Co. by false pretences—he said, "I did go for some goods for a man who asked me to go for them and to sign his name as John Howell; I don't know who that is"—I took him to station, and he made no answer to the charge.

Prisoner's Defence. I was called off the porters' stand at Milk Street by a gentleman who said his name was John howell. He asked me if I was a porter. I told him "Yes." He said, "if you will come with me I will give you a job." We went across Cheapside and Bread Street, and he said, "I want you to go into Cook, Son, and Co.'s and get for me seven pieces of George Walton's linsey cloth." I said, "I shall want an order." He said, "Not if you use my name and sign sign in my name," They gave me the goods, and I took them to the corner of Cannon Street, where he was waiting, and he gave me a shilling. That is all I know of the goods. I have been thirty years in the City of London as porter and packer, and have never been in trouble before.


9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-207
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

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207. WILLIAM JAMES McWILLIAMS (36) and WILLIAM HANSON (26) PLEADED GUILTY , McWilliams to forging an order for the delivery of two sets of billiard balls and one set of pyramid balls, after three former convictions of felony, and Hanson to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of a billiard cloth and other articles after a former conviction.

McWILLIAMS.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

HANSON.— Two Years' Imprisonment. And

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-208
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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208. HAROLD THORNE (20) to forging and uttering a cheque, also to five other indictments for stealing coupons of henry gazo and another, his masters.— Tweleve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1880.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-209
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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209. ALFRED ERNEST SHARP (19) PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling-house of James Buckingham, and stealing a box and10s.— Twelve months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-210
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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210. ALEXANDER SCHOSSA (35) feloniously shooting at Adolphus Bakanowski, with intent to murder. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.


JAMES O'DONNELL . I live at 12, Boswwell Court, Bloomsbury, and am a blind-maker—on Saturday morning, 10th January, between 5 and 10 minutes past 10, I went to the Italian Church, Hatton Garden—after I had

been ther about ten minutes I saw the prisoner—I did not know him before—I went into the church to worship—I was kneeling—the prisoner entered from the Clerkenwell Road entrance—he had his hat on—he did not take it off—he looked sound booth sides—he then looked round the top pillar on that side towards the altar to see if the priest was there—he then went towards the middle of the altar, turned round to the people and said. "All you go away," or "go out"—he was just before the center of the opening, below the steps—I then saw him fire a pistol—Father Bakanowaki was the pries standing at the altar—he was standing in the middle of the altar, with his face toward it, and his back to the prisoner—I saw the pistol in the prisoner's hand, and saw the smoke come out of it—he presented the pistol at the priest—from the front of the altar where he stood to where the priest was, I should say was from 16 to 18 feet—he then went up the steps of the altar and fired again in the same direction, to the altar or the priest, only slightly towards the right-hand side—he was siming at the altar or the priest when he fired the second shot—he then fired a third shor, but where he was then, at what distance from the altar, I can't tell—Irushed up to the rail, looked round to see whether I could see the priest—the priest had moved from there—I did not see him on the altar, but looking round I saw him escape on the left-hand side—I did not go up to the altar—I went up to the rail by the pillar, and looking towards the altar I saw the priest turn round to the left-hand side and he ran down the steps towards the door—I then saw the prisoner on the altar steps close to the altar, standing in front of it, fire again towards the direction of the door by which the priest escaped—that is the Back Hill door—The priest was still visible when the shot was fired—he was escapring through the door—I turned my head towards the door in Clerkenwell Road to call for assistance, and I heard another shot—I did not see that fired—I then heard a noise as if there was a hammering, and I went back to the church after hallooing at the door, and saw the prisoner trying to break in the tabernsele door, and I saw him throw the candlesticks and candles about, and he put his hand in the tabernacle and threw something on his right-hand side, what, I could not see—there were two candlesticks alight on the altar—the chalice and the Host are kept in the tabernsele—I did not see what he did at the tabernacle—the first three shots were fired almost instantly, one after the other—the other two might have been about a minute afterwards, they were fired almost instantly, the one after the other—I than saw the prisoner go as if to jump on the altar with his knee so as to get a rise, to pull down the things—I then ran to the door, and screamed for help—on coming back I saw the prisoner by the side of the altar—I looked round the church to see if I could find anything to hit him with, or to aim at him, but not finding anything I went and hallooed at him to came down—I wa then about 18 feet from him—I was standing by the altar rail—he turned round and held the pistol at me, and said, "You go away"—he said that in English—he seemed to aim towards me, as I thought, and I ran to the Clerkenwell door—I then saw that he had a dagger in his left hand—them were two police and some bystanders, labourers and others, coming through the opening of the door—I pointed him out on the altar—we retired a few steps back beyond the pillar, when we saw the prisoner come down the steps from the altra into the middle of the body of the church

and go along, and syddenly he stopped before a gentleman, who I did not notice before, and the gentleman suddenly laid hold of him, and then there was a rush made, and he was seized—I saw the pistol and dagger wrenched from him—he struggled hard to hold the dagger—I never saw him before that morning—I could not tell whether he was sober—he seemed sober from the manner in which he spoke.

Cross-examined. I saw him enter the door of the church with his hat on—he looked round, and walked deliberately enough and quietly—I was certainly very much surprised to see him walk into the church with his hat on—I did not see the pistol in his hand at that time—the first shot was fired almost within the middle of the altar—I certainly was under the impression that he did not fire at the priest I don't know what he fired at—it was not partly my impression that he fired to frighten people, without intending to do any harm—when the second shot was fired the prisoner was standing on the steps of the altar, inside the rail; I mean the sanctary steps, the steps leading up to the altar rails—I did not see the priest come down the steps and pass the prisoner—I take it the prisoner was behind the altar when the priest escaped, as I did not see the prisoner was behind the the priest, he might have followed him—I did not see the priest go round the altar; I saw him come from the left-hand side—in order to get behind the altar the prisoner must have passed the place where the priest was standing at the time he was fired at first—I did not see the priest when the third shot was fired.

JOHN O'DONNELL . I live at 3, Gloucester Street, Bloomsbury—I am not in any business—on Saturday morning, 10th January, I was at the Italian Church, Hatton Garden; I was there at the 9 o'clock service, and I waited for the 10 o'clock service—I saw the prisoner there; he came to round at the altar a few seconds; he did not come into the church; he was in at the door, and he looked round at the altar and round the church; he looked retired, and I did not see him for a quarter of an hour—I did not see where he went—there was no service going on at that time, and no prient at the altar—I was about the centre of the church—in about five minutes Father Bakanowski came to the altar, and commenced the service; after the service had been going on about 10 minutes the prisoner again came to the same door, and looked in in the same manner as before, to the alter and round the church; he then came in with his hat on, came scross by the altar rail, and ascended to steps in front of the high altar, and fired at the priest, who was on the altar, with his back towards him—Father baksnowski was the only priest there—I saw the pistol in the prisoner's hand, and I saw him point it direct at him at the top of the steps—he was about six or seven yards from him, perhaps it might not be quite so much, it is merely a rough guess—the priest did not turn round instantaneously; he turned round in about a few seconds, and saw the prisoner coming towards him with the pistol in his hand; he came down the steps to go round the back the prisoner fired again at him—the priest went round the back of the altar to the right, and there the prisoner fired again, but I did not see that shot fired; I heard it—the priest then came round to the other end of the

alter, the left, and crossed over in front of the alter, and then the prisoner fired again at him—I saw that shot fired; I saw Nos. 1, 2, and 4, but not 3; I think there was a fifth shot, but I won't be certain of that; the priest was then crossing the front of the alter, and he went into the sacristy; That was the last shot I saw fired—I should not think it was above a minute or a minute and a half from the time the first shot was fired to the priest making his exit into the sacristy—than saw the prisoner ascend the alter where the priest had been officiating, and take one of the candlesticks off the altar, and light one end of the altar cloth, and then go to the other and light the other—he then went with the candlestick reversed in his hand, went to the tabernacle door and broke it in—I then left the church for assistance, and when I came back he was in the hands of the police—I did not see the prisoner before that morning—he seemed to come along rationally enough, only he seemed to forget himself, coming with his hat on—I did not see anything more particular about him.

REV. ADOLPHUS BAKANOWSKI . I am one of the priests at the Italian Church, Hatton Garden—on Saturday morning, 10th January, I went to The alter for the purpose of performing service; it was a few minutes past 10 when I commenced—I came from the sacristy door, and went to the Front part of the alter—I had been there about 10 or 12 minutes; I was alone, and my servant behind me—I heard a shot, and there was immediately a great noise—I was standing facing the altar, with my back to the congregation—I immediately turned to the people to see what it was—I then saw the prisoner with his arm directed at me, with a pistol in his hand—I think he was 16 or 17 feet from me—I went to the sacristy and tried the door, but it was closed—I ran behind the alter; I heard the prisoner follow me; I did not see him, but I heard him follow me, and then I came again before the altar and went to the sacristy door; no, the door going to Back Hill, and then I escaped—I can't say how many shots I heard, because I was so excited—I heard one first, and afterwards, when I went to the sacristy door, there were three, four, or five shots fired, I don't remember, only I heard shots, and I escaped and left the church; always I heard the shots, about how many I can't say—when I first went to the sacristy door my attendant had gone through the door; he had fastened the door—I do not know the prisoner—I had never seen him before that morning.

REV. HENRY VINCENT ARKELL . I am one of the priests of the Italian Church, Hatton Garden—on Saturday morning, 10th January, I was in a room over the sacristy—some time after 10 I heard several shots fired and a ringing of the bell—I did not come down at once because I did not understand the meaning of the ringing of the bell—shortly affterwards some men came up, and I went down and went through the sacristy door into the church: that was two or three minutes after I heard the shots fired, perhaps less—as I came into the church I met the prisoner coming towards me on the sancturary—I did not notice anything in his hand immediately, because he kept his hands down—when he got within 4 feet of me he presented a revolver in my face; I reppidly bent my head and sprang over the altar rail and made my way into the centre of the church, and on turning round I saw the altar cloth in flames, and the prisoner throwing right and left the candelabras and candlesticks and the decorations of the alter, and shouting to himself—he them made his way behind the altar, ascended some steps behind the altar,

and threw down one of the large iron candlesticks, smashing it to pieces, and the golden throne or stand to put the Host on for benediction—I cried out to a body of ten or twelve men and two policemen standing inside the Clerkenwell Road door—I called out to them to go in a body to put out the flames to save the church—they did not stir—when the prisoner threw down the massive iron candlestick and the throne, it made a gap in the decorations so that he could see in the body of the church, so he must have seen me standing alone in the church—he at once left the work of demolition and made his way to me, holding something in both his hands—I went forward to meet him, and on a nearer approach I saw the revolver in his right hand, but the black handle of the knife being held downwards I thought it might be another revolver—the blade was up the sleeve—I went forward, and when I got within about 2 feet of him I seized him by both wrists, and afterwards I saw the knife—he struggled very violently with the left hand, which held the knife—I held his cuffs—a woman, the housekeeper, came to my assistance—I could scarcely hold him any longer—she caught his arm and screamed, and then the crowd came forward, and the prisoner was secured, and the revolver and dagger were taken from him—I had never seen him before.

Cross-examined. When he came down the body of the church he came down very quietly—he tried to lunge at me with his left hand, to strike me with the knife—until I took hold of him he did not raise his hand against me, he hid the knife—there was no one near me when he came to me with the knife and pistol—the first person" who came to my assistance was the housekeeper.

JOHN McCARTHY (Policeman 41 G). On the morning of 10th January, at half past 10, I was called into the church—I saw the prisoner standing on the left-hand side', of the altar—he came round the back of the altar and knocked the candlestick down—he got up the steps at the back of the altar and knocked down the candlestick and other things—the Rev. Mr. Arkell caught him by his two wrists, and a man in the crowd took the pistol from him when we had him down, and Constable Rose took the dagger from him.

WILLIAM ROSE (Policeman G 274). I went to the church about half-past 10—I saw the prisoner fire the pistol three times—it was afterwards taken possession of—I produce it—some man in the crowd took it—it was handed over to the police in the church—it is a five-chambered revolver—I took the prisoner to the station and searched him—I found nine ball cartridges in his pocket—the revolver is a five-chambered revolver—they were empty, and had been recently discharged—I wrenched the dagger out of his left hand and took the sheath out of his pocket—a person in the crowd shouted that he had got another revolver or pistol—I asked the prisoner in the church what he intended to do—he said to kill the priest.

Cross-examined. I used the words "What did you intend to do?"—he spoke very good English to me—I had not been a second in the church before I saw him firing—I was standing near the door of the Clerkenwell Road entrance—I did not see Father Arkell jump over the rails and run down the altar steps—I afterwards saw him standing in the body of the church and the prisoner come down the altar steps to him—I was not at that time standing still at the Clerkenwell Road entrance—we went towards the prisoner; he followed Father Arkell in the body of the church, and the priest caught hold of him and my brother constable 41; he was the first

Person that came to the rescue of father Arkell—there was no woman there At the time that I swear—she was putting out the flames on the altar—she Did not go to his assistance at the time—I and my brother constable were The first two to go to him—a gentleman came up afterwards.

Re-examined. I saw father Arkell come out of the door when the Prisoner crossed the altar—I saw him catch hold of the prisoner—the Woman was then on the alter putting out the flames; I was close at hand, In fact we all three caught him at the same time—came up at once.

FRANK COUSINS (Police man G R 9). This Saturday morning I went to the church—after the prisoner was in custody I searched and found a Bullet embedded in the side of the sacristy door—I cut it out with my knife and produce it—a piece of the stonework over the sacristy door had been recently broken off—I found this other bullet lying on the ground behind the alter—it appeared to have been discharged—it was bent up.

Cross-examined. It appeared to have struck the stonework above the Sacristy door and rebounded.

WILLIAM BOWLES (Police Inspctor). After the prisoner was in cusody, I examined the church—I found a bullet lying on the ground on the right Of the sacristy door—it had been discharged—a chair stood close by it, between the alter and the Back Hill door, and I found a hole in the back Of that chair, such as would be made by a bullet being fired through it—I Produce two bullets one I received from a man named Campbell, and the Other from Mr. Arkell—I saw the prisoner at the station that morning Before he was charged; he appeared to be sober—he was very quite—I Went to a lodging-house, 37, Great saffron Hill, kept by Mr. Rossi—he pointed out a room to me as the prisoner's room—I found there a box containing 36 ball-cartridges—at the police-court I asked the prisoner where he bought the dagger and the revolver—he said, "I bought the dagger in the Gray's Inn Road, near the new road, and the revolver I bought in Brombton Road, just past the hospital, near Gentry Park, and paid two guineas for it"—I spoke to him in English, and he replied in English—I have been to those two pieces, and the witnesses from them are here.

REV. WILLIAM WHITMEE . I am one of the priests at the Italian Church—went in to the church after the matter had occurred on the Saturday morning and picked up a bullet—it was on as mall credence table underneath the top of a door where seemingly a bullet had struck—it appeared To have been discharged—I gave it to Mr. Campbell—I have seen the prisoner several times—I did not see him on this Saturday morning—I have known him by sight about six months or mors—I have generally seen him standing outside a house in little Saffron Hill—on one occasion I spoke, Not to him personally, but to him with other young Italians—I invited them to come to the night school for Italians—the prisoner replied, "What Business is it of yours," or some rough answer of that kind; that was all That passed—I did not speak to him after that—I have seen him several Times since, but I merely passed on without notice; that is all I know of him.

ARTHUR JOSEPH NEEDHAM . I keep a gun-maker's shop at Park Side, Albert Gate, six doors from hyde park corner—Thursday evening, 8th January, between 4 and 6, man came in and inquired for a revolver—he asked the price of some in the window—I am not quite certain of the prisoner—I thought he was the man, he bought a revolver and 50 ball

cartridges, the price was two guineas—this is the revolver, I sold, and these are the same cartridges—the man spoke English, I could not tell what he was exactly.

JAMES ALDIS . I am a cutter, at 116, Gray's Inn Road—on Friday night, 9th January, about 7.30, a man came to my shop—the prisoner is very much like the man—I could not swear it—my belief is that is the man—he said he wanted that knife in the window—I could not tell which it was, being dark—I opened the window and he pointed it out—this is the knife—he asked me the price—I said 7s. 6d.—he gave me 6s. 6d. for it—I asked him "Italian?"—he said, "No Swiss"—"Do you want to take it out with you?"—"No," but in that taciturn manner I could hardly understand whether he was speaking in broken English or whether he was a foreigner.

PAOLO ROSSI (Interpreted). I live at 37, Great Saffron Hill, and keep a lodging house there—the prisoner has lodged with me three months, more or less—I saw him on the morning of Saturday, 10th January, at 9 0' clock, in the kitchen—I went out then—I returned in about half an hour, and he had then left—I afterwards went pit out and saw him in the Clerkenwell Road, 5 or 6 yards from the church—I said him, "why are you here at this time?"—he said, "I came to go to church, but I found it was to early"—I went on two or three steps, and he asked me to stand something to drink—we went to a public-house and had twopennyworth of rum each—we drink it and left the house together, and then I left him—that he was about 9.40—he works at the asphalte—he had been out of work two weeks—i afterwards pointed out of police the room the prisoner used to sleep in.

Cross-examined. His habit was temperate, he drank very little.

Re-examined. He seemed to be eccentric that morning, but he was not drunk.

CHARLES GREENHAM (Police Inspector) I made the plan produced, it is made to scale—the height from the floor to the place where the bullet was imbedded in the door is 5 feet—I found a piece of stone chipped from over the door, that was 16 feet from the floor.

WILLIAM BEST CARPENTER . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, and have been surgeon to Her Majesty's prison at Clerkenwell about 13 months—the prisoner was brought there on 10th January, and remained there till the 15th—I saw him every day during that time, and I saw him afterwards in company with Mr. Gibson, when he had been removed to Newgate—I understand Italian—I conversed with him in Italian—I began the conversation in English—I found that some of the question I put to him he could not understand, and I put them in Italian—he does understand English—from what I saw of him, in my judgment he is a person of sound mind.

Cross-examined. I did not speak to him for the purpose of discovering whether he was sane or insane—I asked him his object in committing this act—I first put general question to him, as I do to all prisoner—I talked to him for the purpose of discovering whether he was of sound mind or not—I asked him in Newgate with reference to the sanity of the members of his family—he did not tell me that his mother had been locked up in a Lunatic asylum—he told me she was subject to attacks of giddiness in the head, swimming, what we call vertigo, and that she would drop down in those

attacks, and remain insensible for six minutes, and then she Would getup—I should not call that epileptic vertigo, but vertigo—he said his brothers Were all healthy young men, and that there was nothing at all the matter With them—he told me that his father was subject to heart disease, and that he had three sisters all healthy young woman—I have known cases of nervous impulse to do violence which the person could not control, although as a rule he appeared to be an ordinary sane person—in the cases I have known I have generally found that they have had an attack of coup de soleil—I have known instances of sudden excitement that would be thought insanity by people not acquainted with disease—in the cases I have known I have found that they have had sun-stroke at some period or other, and Then some sudden fit of excitement comes on without any warning, which Renders them utterly unable to be answerable for their actions.

Court Q. Did you ever hear of anybody preparing for one of those sudden Attacks? A. The only preparation wound be drink.

JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am surgeon of Her Majesty's gaol of New-gate, and have been so between 24 and 24 years—during that period I have had a very large experience in cases of insanity—in consequence of what was said before the Magistrate my attention has been drawn to the prisoner; I have seen him daily from 15th January, when he came to the prison; once I saw him in the presence of Mr. Carpender—he has been perfectly calm and rational—I think he is of sound mind and understanding—he conforms perfectly to the prison regulations.

By the COURT. I believe him to be a person of thoroughly sound mind, I have not discovered anything to the contrary.

GUILTY on the first count.—penal servitude for Life.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 11th, 1880.

Before Mr. Common serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-211
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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211. SARAH ANN PALMER (34) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying John Sunman, her husband, William palmer, being then alive.— one Month's Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-212
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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212. GEORGE FREDERICK ANDERSON (23) to forging and uttering a cheque for 50l.— Fifteen Months' imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-213
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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213. ELIZABETH FIELD** (38) to stealing one purse, five Postage labels, and 10s. 6d., goods of William Ackland, from the person of Azalia Ackland; also receiving; also to a conviction of felony on the 1st December, 1876, at Lambeth police-court, in the name of Agnes Gould.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-214
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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214. JOHN BURN (40) to Burglary in the dwelling-house of John Lock, and stealing his watch.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-215
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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215. JOHN FRANCIS SMALL (18) , stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, from out of a post-letter, a cheque for 13l., the property of Her Majesty's postmaster-General.


WILLIAM COOPER . I live at 17, Farquhar Road, Upper Norwood—on 2nd January I wrote a letter to my son, Mr. Walter Cooper—I addressed it to 39, Great Portland street, Oxford street, S.W., enclosing the cheque produced for 13l.—the Word "Beare" was not then on it, nor the endorsement

—I sealed up the letter myself and gave it to my niece, Miss Sarah Barry, to post—I made the alteration from January to December the 2nd.

MARY SARAH BARRY . I am the niece of William Cooper—he gave me a letter, addressed to Mr. Cooper, of 39, Great Portland Street, Oxford Street, W.—I posted it on the afternoon of the 2nd January, between 2.30 and 4 p.m., in a pillar-box in the Farquhar Road—the letter was closed up when I posted it.

EPHRAIM BENNETT . I am assistant-overseer at the Norwood Branch Post-office—a letter posted in the Farquhar Road before 4 o'clock on 2nd January would fall into the 4.45 collection, and would be taken to the would go to the S.E. district office at 5.30—the letter would be delivered the same night from 9 to 9.30—Great Castle Street and Great Portland Street are in the same district.

HENRY JAMES COOPER . I am fancy jeweller at 39, Great Castle Street—I come there every morning to business—the prisoner was in my employment in the beginning of January last—he had been in my employment about 18 months—previously he was employed by Mr. Fisher, of College Hill—I arrived at my place of business about 9 o'clock on the morning of Saturday, the 3rd of January—I opened my letters—I found this cheque in one envelope, and then I noticed the address and saw that it was addressed to Great Portland Street—I put it back into its own envelope with a short letter that was with it, and doubled it over and put it in one of mine and addressed it to Mr. Cooper of Great Portland Street, which is only a short distance from my shop—the prisoner had no opportunity of seeing what were the contents of my envelope as it was done up half an hour before he came—he came about 9.30—I said "Here is a letter for Mr. Cooper of Great Portland Street, run round with it," or "take it round"—I have seen the prisoner write daily—I do not think the word "bearer" on the cheque is his writing—some of the other letters are like his—he writes in different hands—I have noticed the variation in his writing—nothing more was said by me or the prisoner on the 3rd or 5th about the letter—on the 5th he was employed in the warehouse—on Tuesdays I go out about 10 and do not return till about 3, and on Tuesday the 6th he would have time to go out—I know that he went out on some commissions—I saw him the latter part of the afternoon, about 4—on Wednesday, the 7th, he did not attend at his usual hour—I received a letter about 7 in the evening—I have Portland Street—these slips are in the prisoner's writing.

Cross-examined. These slips are lists of goods sent out, so that we can trace them—they are written tow at once with a black sheet between—Mr. Cooper's letters have come to me about four times before—mine have also gone to him—I noticed the cheque was on the London and County Bank, and that the signature was "William Cooper"—the prisoner's duties were to go out on my business, also to sweep out the shop, but he generally came after it was done, and to light the fire—it was his business to solicit orders for me, but I can find no trace of the business he did—I have not my books here—I know he went out directly after me on the Tuesday because I asked the time—I have no recollection of his having transacted business at Paddington on the afternoon of the 6th—earrings from a great part of our business, and I have many customers at Paddington—I generally gave him

verbal instructions—the cheque was first mentioned to me on the 6th—I cannot say who by—I did not converse with the prisoner between the 3rd and 6th about the cheque—I cannot say what the prisoner did on the 3rd January—on the 5th we were looking up parcels for country customers—I have nothing to fix the times and what we were doing, only that I go out on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and on Mondays and Fridays I do not go out except to call on certain customers—the prisoner's letter stated that he had had an accident to his ankle—I dismissed him by letter—two days' wages were then due to him—I sent him a cheque and those two days and something in addition, amounting altogether to 9s. 9d.—that was sent back to me accompanied by a letter from Mr. Fisher of Finsbury, threatening me with a civil action—I do not know whether Mr. Fisher is a solicitor or no.

Re-examined. I have heard no more of the civil action—I left the prisoner in my office when I when I went out on the 6th of January—when I came in, finding he had been to Mr. Cooper's, I asked him why he had been there as he had not gone round before as to letters we had had—he said he had given it to a woman at the door, and was not certain whether it was all safe or something of that sort.

CHARLES CHABOT . I am a cashier at the London and County Bank at Knightsbrige—Mr. William Cooper, of Farquhar Road, Upper Norwood, keeps an account there—this cheque was presented to me on the 6th January about 11.30, before I went out—I usually go out about 12 o'clock—to the best of my recollection the prisoner presented it—the signature of Mr. Cooper was a little loose, and I asked the prisoner "Does it come from Mr. Cooper?" he said "I come from Mr. Cooper's son—I paid him the 13l. in gold—the cheque was then in that state it now is—no alteration was made after I first saw it—I took the endorsement to be "M. Cooper"—I should not pay a cheque without some initial—about 10 days afterwards I was show about four boys together in ordinary dress at the General Post Office—I picked out the prisoner as being like the lad to whom I paid the cheque—I am still of that opinion.

Cross-examined. I think Mr. Stephens was the first person I saw at the post-office in a private room with two or three others—I had only two or three words with him—It was about 5 or 10 minutes before the prisoner came in the second of four boys—they all followed together—the others were not exactly the same size—I cannot remember the exact words I used at the police-court.

Re-examined. A message was sent stopping the payment of the cheque the next day, the 7th—nothing was done to draw my attention to any particular boy at the post-office—Mr. Stephens gave me no clue to him.

WALTER COOPER . I reside at 39, Great Portland Street—I am the son of William Cooper, of Farquhar Road, Upper Norwood—I have been in the habit of receiving quarterly remittances from my father—I expected to receive one early in January—I did not receive one of the 3rd of January, nor non the 5th, nor 6th—this is not endorsement on this cheque—I did not crase the word "order" and put "bearer," nor give anybody authority to deal with the cheque in any way.

CHARLOTTE COOPER . I am the wife of the last witness—I remember seeing the prisoner on the 6th of January last at 39, Great Portland Street, at 1 o'clock—he said, "I called to ask you if you received a letter that

I left on Saturday"—I said, "I have received two or three letters"—he said, "It was enclosed in one of Mr. Cooper's envelopes"—he said he had come from Mr. Cooper, of 39, Great Castle Street—I said "I have never received that," meaning the one enclosed in a second envelope—he said, "I have called and am most anxious about the letter"—I said, "At what hour did you leave the letter?"—he said, "At half-past two; I had knocked three times at the door, and being in a great hurry and receiving no answer I gave it to a woman who said she was coming into the house"—I said, "It would be impossible for any one to knock three times without receiving an answer"—he said, "Not I, but the woman told me she had knocked"—I said, "I will go and see Mr. Cooper, of 39, Castle Street, and see if he can tell me whom the letter came from"—I then said, "Can you tell me if it was a pink embossed stamp on the letter"—my husband was in the habit of receiving letters from his father at Norwood which were enclosed in an envelope with a pink embossed stamp—I never saw one without—the prisoner said "No, but if it will assist you at all the post mark was S.E."—I said, "That is the letter, that contains money"—he said "I hope not"—I rang for my servant, Sarch Hallett, and asked her in the prisoner's presence if she had received a letter—she said "No"—I then said to the prisoner, "Have you given the letter to an utter stranger at the door and not seen her come into the house?"—he said, "I have, that is why I called"—I said "The cheque had better be stopped at the bank"—the prisoner said, "Mr. Cooper had better go at once and stop the cheque"—on the Saturday afternoon referred to there was no one in the house besides myself, Sarah Hallett, and a charwoman named Jane Buckingham—my assistants had gone for the day—the servant has been employed in the family four years and the charwoman three—a person could not have being heard—between 9 and 10 the usual businesss was going on, but the house was very quiet and a knock must have been heard—I was at house then.

Cross-examined. Persons have knocked at my door twice before being answered, but not several times—I am a wholesale dressmaker—my business is not at the top of the house—my husband is a costumier, and assists in the business—I told the prisoner I expected a letter from over the water, but I did not say it would be a pink embossed stamp and would come from over the water—he mentioned the S.E. postmark before I told him I expected a lesster from over the water—the conversation did not occur in the order nor in the sense you put it—the prisoner did not say after my mentioning that I expected a letter from over the water, "If it would be of any assistance to you it would have an S. E. postmark"—my husband was not at home—I have not seen the letter purporting to accompany the cheque—ladies do call at my house on business, but not many.

JANE BUCKINGHAM . I live at 9 Eveningham Street, Upper Westbourne Park—I am a charwoman—Mrs. Cooper employs me on Saturdays—on this 3rd of January I was employed by Mrs. Cooper the whole of the day, from 8 a.m. till between 6 and 7 p.m.—I went out once to fetch a drop of beer for myself at about 11.30—with that exception I was in the house scrubbing and cleaning all day—about half past 2 I was cleaning the oil-cloth for about half an hour—I heard no knock at the door from 2 to 3 o'clock—I took in

no letter that day—I should answer the wood if I was near it to save calling the servant—no letter was given to me that day.

Cross-examined. I remember that day because Mrs. Cooper was expecting a letter from over the water, and from my waiting for the young people to go away—they went earlier that day—I did not know then of Mrs. Cooper receiving cheques from her father-in-law—she did not tell me what the letter was to contain—the prisoner delivered a parcel to me a few days before which came to 39 Great Portland Street by mistake—I have been in Court and heard the order evidence.

Re-examined. The dressmakers go earlier on Saturdays, and I did not go to perform my duties in the hall till they had gone—Mrs. Cooper asked me if there had been any letter, as she expected a particular letter, and could not make it our how it was it had not come—I am sure there were no letters—there is only one other servant.

SARAH HALLETT . I am the servant of Mrs. Cooper, of 39, Great Portland Street—I have been in her family about 4 years—I was in the house all day on Saturday, the 3rd of January—from 2 to 3 o'clock I should be in the first floor—I heard no knocks at the door—I can hear knocks distinctly when I am on the first floor—I generally answer knocks at the door—I do not remember doing so, or taking in a letter—I remember being called up by my mistress on the Tuesday—she asked me if I had received a letter—I heard Mrs. Cooper ask the prisoner if he noticed the stamp on the letter—he said he did not notice the stamp, but if it was any assistance the postmark was S.E., not "would be S.E."—I did not hear anything else, I went down.

Cross-examined. My memory is assisted by the fact that the assistants left earlier on Saturday—I have been in Court, and heard the other evidence—the charwoman does not answer the door if I am in the house—it is possible for me not be hear the first knock.

Re-examined. I must have heard a knock while I was on the first floor.

CHARLES JAMES STEPHENS . I am a travelling clerk of the General Postoffice, and conduct investigations into matters of this kind—my attention was first drawn to this matter on Monday, the 19th of January—on the following day I saw the prisoner at his father's house, 63, Balance Road, Hackney—I said to him "My name is Stephens, I am attached to the General Post-office, what is your name?"—he said "Francis Small"—I said "You were formerly engaged at Mr. Cooper's, No. 39, Great Castle Street," and I told him I wished to speak to him about a letter, and then took him to the Post-office, Mr. Chabot met me there—I was there when the prisoner and three young persons were introduced into a room where Mr. Chabot was—I had not said or done anything to direct Mr. Chabot's attention to the prisoner—after Mr. Chabot came out of the room I said to the prisoner "You will be charged with stealing a cheque for 13l. out of a post letter, and forging and uttering the same; you will be taken to Bow Street, and one of the officers will have to go to your house and search your place, do you wish to send any message to your mother?"—he replied "No, I have writtern a letter to my father"—the prisoner had just told me his father would not be at home, so I said, "But your father will not be at home, do you wish to send any message to your mother"—he said "No, if I had money I would make it good, and then perhaps there would be an end of the matter"—he was then given into custody—the south side of the

Thames is divided into the S.E. and S.W. districts—formerly there were three.

Cross-examined. Some part of the S.W. district is on the Middlesex side—the prisoner was brought to the Post-office by myself and an officer—I saw him in my private room—he told me he had given the letter to a woman—then followed the observation that if he had the money he would make it all right—I spoke to the gentleman from the bank before identification—the other three boys were in the employment of the Post-office.

Re-examined. The other young men were not in uniform—nothing was said or done to draw Mr. Chabot's attention to the prisoner—the lads were requested to put on their great coats and hats and coat into the room at the same time, because the prisoner had his hat and coat on, and they came into the room with their coats on and their hats in their hands.

WILLIAM LORD. I am a police-constable attached to the Post-office—I received the prisoner in custody on the 20th of January—I heard him say o Mr. Stephens "If I had the money I would pay Mrs. Cooper, and there would be an end to it"—there was a conversation about his having gone to Mrs. Cooper on the 6th, but I do not remember whether he said he went with the intention of knowing whether this letter had come or not—I went to his house and searched—I did not find anything bearing on this case.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ROBERT BLAKE HORMAN FISHER . I am a solicitor, carrying on business at 10, Finsbury Pavement—the prisoner was in my employ from the beginning of February to the end of July, 1878—I believe him to be thoroughly honest—I had many opportunities of seeing his writing during the six months he was with me—I say there is no similarity between the endorsement on this cheque and the prisoner's writing—I believe the word "bearer" is not his writing.

Cross-examined. As a solicitor's clerk the prisoner would be required to write a very distinct hand-writing—he had acquired a fixed style of writing before he left me—he had been in a solicitor's office before—these two letters were written by the prisoner in January, and handed to me, and they are the same style of writing—one is a copy of the letter he wrote to Mr. Cooper, which I asked him to write—Mr. Cooper had a reference from me—he came from Messrs. Vallance and Vallance, of Essex Street, to me—my clerk, who is now in Court, took a character of the prisoner from that firm—it was not a written one.

Re-examined. This letter (Another one) is not the prisoner's writing.

DUNCAN BROWN . I am a lithographer, and have some experience in is no similarity between the writing on this cheque and these two letters or these papers (The liste produced by Mr. H. J. Cooper).

Cross-examined. I was not required as a witness in the two cases in which I was engaged, and was not called—this is the first time I have been before a Court as an expert.

ROBERT SMALL . I am a law writer and a lithographer—the prisoner is my son—I have had many letters from him, this letter is in my son's writing (The third letter put to Mr. Fisher)—it was written to his brother while he was spending his holidays in 1875, when the prisoner was only 18 years of age—the writing on the cheque is not similar to my son's—these papers are in his writing (Mr. Cooper's lists), but the letters in this cheque

are of a spiky character, whereas my son's writing is a round hand—my son has borne a good character.

Cross-examined. Upon leaving the law a person's writing would set less formal in its character.

CHARISTOPHER CARTWRIGHT . I am managing clerk to Mr. Francis Scott, A Solicitor—I was in Mr. Fisher's employment between January and October, 1878, when the prisoner was there—I had opportunities of seeing his writing—in my opinion the indorsement on this cheque is not his writing—he bore a good character—I made inquiries before taking him on—he was at Messrs. Vallance and vallance's.

Cross-examined. I have seen the prisoner's writing in every conceivable Varisty of form, what he has done in a hurry, carefully, and so on.

The Prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 12th, 1880.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-216
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

216. JOHN BOYCE (44) , Feloniously Killing and slaying Milcha Boyce.


HARRY CAVENDISH . I am Chief Clerk at the Clerkenwell Police-court—On Saturday, 27th December, I went with the Magistrate, Mr. Hosack, to The Great Northern Hospital—the inspector of police was there, and the prisoner—the deceased, Milcha Boyce, was in bed in the hospital, in a room by herself—the Magistrate asked her evidence—it was read over, and she assented her—I took down her face was visible, and only part of that; her hands were bound to her sides, and she was not able to move—she had some difficulty in giving her evidence—we were a long time in taking it—she spoke in a very low voice—she was parched, and constantly calling for water, and the room was very offensive.

Cross-examined. She was very prostrate, and answered with considerable difficulty.

By the COURT. I think she think she thoroughly understood what was Going on, and appreciated the questions before answering them.

FREDERICK CAIGER . I am a surveyor—I have made a plan of the first and Second floors of 80, St. James's Road, Holloway—the plan produced shows The ground floor, the first floor, and up to the second floor—it shows The position of the coal-box outside on the landing of the second floor, about 8 inches from the balusters—it is not a fixture, that was the position in which it was supposed to be; the rails are 4 inches apart, and one or two 4 1/8 inches—that was the greatest space—it is 3 feet to the top of the handrail; the height of the coal-box is 1 foot 11 inches; that would marks 13 inches from the top of the cual-box to the top of the hand-rail—I have been shown a lamp by the police, the diameter of the base of it is 5 1/2 inches—if that were thrown perpendicularly over the rails it would strike about the third step from the bottom of the upper landing, that would be the steps leading from the first to the second floor; if it were pushed through the rails it would fall about the same place—I also made a plan of the second floor, showing

the door of the front room, and the position of the coal-box, and also a plan of the first floor; they are accurate.

MARY BENSON . I am single, and live at 87, St. James's Road, Holloway—I lived in the kitchen—the prisoner and his wife lived in the front room, top floor—on Saturday night, 20th December, about 10.45, I saw the deceased at the street door—I talked to her for about ten minutes on the step—she seemed to be right, I mean she appeared to be sober—she asked me to go with her into the Holloway Road, to get a parcels to from Bowman's pawn-shop—I went with her, she got it out and paid for it, and brought it away—she said something to me when we got back, in consequence of which I gave her a jug of hot water—she bade me good night and went upstairs—I had not seen the prisoner at all that evening—I had not been to any public-house with the deceased—about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after she had pone upstairs I was sitting by my kitchen fire, preparing to go to bed; I heard some one scream—I did not hear anything said—I ran up the kitchen stairs into the passage, and saw the deceased running down the stairs in flames—the flames seemed all over the upper part of her—she got as far as the passage, and then the neighbour ran in, and I could not see any more—I rushed into the street—she was subsequently attented by a doctor, and taken to the hospital—after the policeman had been upstairs I heard the prisoner's voice on the stairs—I could not hear what he said—I did not see him again till the following Friday afternoon at two o'clock, when I went to the Great Northern Hospital with the prisoner's daughters and a friend to see the deceased—I found the prisoner waiting outside the hospital, and we all went in together—he appeared very much shocked at seeing his wife in that state—he spoke to her and she to him, but in such a low voice I could not hear what was said.

Cross-examined. The deceased might have been drinking before I saw her that evening—I went into the pawn-shop with her—the scream I heard was "Light"—I could not recognise the voice—when I came up the deceased was getting nearly on the last flight near to the hall, half-way down the flight between the landing and the hall—I heard no voice at all—I did not see the policeman go upstairs—I have know the deceased for two years—she used to drink—she had a weakness that way—I have seen her the worse for drink.

Re-examined. She went to the pawnbroker's and asked for the parcel, produced the duplicate for it, and took it away—she did all that herself.

FREDERICK CHARLES LACK . I am a provision-dealer, 112, St. James' Road, Holloway—my house is nearly opposite 87—on Saturday night, 20th December, I was standing at my street door—I heard screams opposite, and on looking across I saw the street door of 87 thrown open and Mrs. Benson rush out—she screamed for assistance—as soon as the door was thrown open I saw someday burning, I thought it was a female, rush from the last three stairs and pitch forward in the passage—I rushed across the road as fast as I could and rushed into the passage—she was lying face downwards—I called for a blanket to throw over the flames to put them out—they did not bring me one, so I caught up the door-mat and tried to batten out the flames—other persons came in behind me, and the flames were put out—I did not see the prisoner at all that night.

JOHN MACKENZIE (police inspector Y). I went to the Great Northern

hospital, and saw the deceased, and had a conversation with her—she was suffering from severe burns in the upper parts of the body—in consequence of the conversation I had with her I apprehended the prisoner between 5 and 6 o'clock that evening in his own room, at 87, St. James's Road—I told him I should take him into custody for infliction the injuries on his wife—he made no reply—I said she told me "My husband flung or threw the lamp at me, cut my head, and set me all on fire"—he side, "That is different to what she side to me"—I side, "You will have to go to the station with me"—I took him in there and he was charged—Inspector Wiltshire read the charge over to him in my presence—I belive he said Nothing—he might have said, "Very well," or words to that effect—he Smelt strongly of spirits, but to the best of my belief he was sober—he Walked steadily for a lame man—he has a stiff leg—I afterwards went to His room, I think the day after the first adjournment before the Magistrate, and took the measurements of the place—the coal-box was about 8 inches from the balusters, there was a hand-rail forming a fence between the coal-box and the stairs, and a rail on top of the balusters, which were 4 inches apart—if the lamp was standing on the coal-box it would be about 3 inches from the top rail—it would not be possible for it to fall over the balustrade without being lifted.

Cross-examined. I did not know that the woman's head was cut when I went to the hospital—she told me of it herself; her words were "He threw the lamp at me as I was going downstairs away from him."

By the COURT. In my opinion the prisoner was sober; I should not have thought of taking a charge of drunkenness against him; he smelt strongly of spirits—I think he understood what was said to him and everything he said to me.

FRANCIS GODINGE (Policeman Y 402). On Sunday morning, 21st December, about 12.30, I heard cries of fire proceeding from St. Jame's Road—I saw a crowd standing round 87—I went inside the passage, and saw the deceased lying there; at that time the flames were out—I saw that she was very much burnt, and I sent for Dr. Weight—while waiting for the doctor I went upstairs into the second-floor front, where I found the prisoner in bed, undressed—I said "Mr. Boyce, do you know that your wife is on fire down in the passage?"—he said "A b——good job too, if the b——gets drunk she must put up with the consequences"—I said if he was any man to come down and look at her; he made no reply—I went down, and he came down about five minutes after me, dressed—I picked up the paraffin lamp produced—I have marked on this plan the spot where I found it, at the bottom of the first lot of stairs; that would be about six steps from the coal-box—I took possession of the lamp and took it to the station, and have had it in my possession ever since, except when it was produced before the Magistrate—I saw the coal-box, but did not notice its exact position—the prisoner appeared sober; he had been drinking, but he was not drank—I should not think he had taken was good for him—I could smell him.

Cross-examined. I did not see Mr. Limmer there; he did not tell me to go up to Boyce, who was drunk in bed—there was no light in the room but the fire—I turned my light on when I got inside; I could not say whether he was asleep or not, but directly I spoke to him he answered me; I spoke pretty loudly—I don't believe there was much noise in the passage

round the woman; I did not hear any; there were two or three men in the passage—the woman was lying in the passage with the coats over her; I did not hear her speak—the woman who lives in the parlour was there—I did not see Mrs. Benson.

ARTHUR JAMES WARRY . I am house surgeon at the great Northern Hospital—about 1 o'clock on the morning of 21st December the deceased was admitted to the hospital; she was suffering from burns, the whole, of the face, head, and neck were burned, and the upper half of the chest and the same extent of the neck were burned, and the upper half of the chest and a small patch just over the neck; they did not extend below the waist, except a small patch just over the abdomen; the whole of the left arm was burnt as well as the right fore arm, there was also a wound on the private part of the head, on the right side; it was a contusion, with an abrasion of the skin, the skin was slightly broken—I think it possible that a lamp like that (produced) striking the head would cause it; I think it would be equally reconcileable with a fall—I made a post-mortem examination; she appeared a very healthy woman—she died about midnight on the 27th—the cause of death was a general shock to the system from the effects of the accident—she was about 36 or 40 years of age—I found no traces of disease at all, except that due to the effects of the burning.

Cross-examined. The burns were half down the back—I received the woman myself—I could not, from the state in which she was, form any opinion as to her sobriety.

The deposition of Milcha Boyce was read as follow:—"My husband's name was John Boyce. On Saturday last, the 20th instant, I got home about 10o'clock at night. My husband was not at home then; he came home, I think, about 11 o'clock; he was very drunk. He got swearing; he wanted something neat, and I said 'You must give me some money, as I have not got any'. He said 'I don't intend to give you any.' I said 'Jaw to yourself while I wash my face.' He kept on jawing, and I went down stairs, and I was running down the stairs and I saw him take up the lamp off the coal-box outside the room. I don't know whether he knocked it off the coal-box or threw it at me, but the paraffin came all over me, and I was at once all on fire. I ran on into the passage, and I don't know who came to my assistance."

Cross-examined by the prisoner. "I did see my husband on Saturday night at the 'Montrose' along with Mrs. Hicks—I pawned my shawl on that night, and when my husband ask me what had become of it, I very likely said 'Find out.' I had had some drink; I was neither drunk nor sober. I lit the lamp, and put it on the box outside the room. When I was asked who had done it—set me on fire—I said 'I think Jack has done it,' meaning my husband. He had been in bad before I left the room. I did not see him get out of bed. I am almost positive I did not knock the lamp over myself. I cannot tell whether I saw my husband come out on the landing or not, I was so excited. I did tell my daughter Alice that I did not know how it was done."

Witnesses for the Defence.

HENRY LIMMER . I reside at 52, Hartham Road, Wellington Road, and am a baker—on this Saturday night, exactly as the clock struck 12, I was crossing St. James's Road, within three doors of 87, when this occurrence took place—I heard cries of distress, "Fire" and "Help"—I proceeded to the door of the house—just as I was entering the door I met a man Frantically calling for a pail of water—I saw the passage lighted up with flame, and in

a moment I saw a human figure enveloped in flames with her arms out stretched—she was standing upright just at the foot of the stairs—there were two or three people in the hall—I sang out, "For God's sake don't throw any water"—before I could get up the flight of four or five stone steps from the street the water was thrown over the woman, two men threw her down with considerable violence, doing the best they could; one man threw a coat or something over her, and the other mauled her about with his arms endeavouring to put out the flame—I reached or stooped down and spoke a few soothing words to her—her cries were, "Oh, I have burnt myself, I have burnt myself, I shall die, I shall die"—she exclaimed that several times; she seemed to swoon off; the passage was literally crammed with men more or less drunk; I never saw such a scene in my life—I then went upstairs to open the staircase window to let out the smoke—on the first landing I kicked against something six or seven steps up between the ground floor and the first floor—I stooped down and picked it up, and found it was part of paraffin lamp—I could not swear to the lamp; it was so dark I could not see it; it was the bottom of a metal lamp I know—I laid it on the first stair out of the way—I can't say that I saw any broken glass, but I felt it; there was some broken earthenware or something under my feet—I did not go up any higher; I then came back to the hall.

By the COURT. When I picked up the lamp I laid it on the first step of the stairs going up to the floor above—that was on the stair leading from the landing up to the first floor—when I came down into the hall the deceased was still lying there with her head in the parlour doorway and her feet towards the wall—I did not go farther than the first landing window; I opened the window; I went up for that purpose because the smoke was so dense—I did not speak to the deceased after I came down—some time after Dr. Waight came she exclaimed "Oh my head, my head"—the policeman came about 10 or 12 minutes after I got into the house; that was Godinge—Dr. Waight had not come then.

Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner about 20 minutes after I entered the house—I saw him come down stairs—during that time there was a very great deal of noise and disorder downstairs in the passage—until the policeman came—their first duty was to pitch every one out but myself and one or two others—until that time the place was packed; it was about 12 minutes from the time I came till the policeman came—the police ejected the people; that was very speedily done—I should say there were a score, or perhaps more, in the passage way and crowding round—the words the deceased said were, "I have burnt myself"—I can't say whether she used the abbreviation "I've burnt myself"—I have not the slightest doubt she said "burnt myself."

By the COURT. The passage was not packed when I entered the house—there were only two or three there when I first went in—they followed—it was just as the public-house was closing, within two doors—I saw Mrs. Benson; I just spoke to her—I had not the slightest idea at that time who the deceased was—the great majority of the people there seemed to be under the influence of drink, ready to fight—there were very angry words and disputes as to how much drink they had been having—I think one or two of the people lived in the house—I distinctly saw the woman thrown down in the passage by a couple of men who rushed at her pell-mell—that caused her

to fall—that was directly after the water was thrown on her—I put no direct question to her—I think the remarks I made were simply to the effect that she would be well cared for, to be quiet, help would come soon, something of that sort—I did not put questions to her with a view of ascertaining how the matter had happened—I did not endeavour to elicit anything from her nothing of the sort—I had no meaning in the phrase "All I could get out of her;" it was not in reference to asking her any questions.

CHARLES MAWBY . I am a carman, of 111, St. George's Road, Holloway—on the night of 20th December I was standing opposite this house—the door was thrown open, and the reflection of the light came over my shoulder across the road—I turned round and saw a man crossing the road and I followed him, and when I got into the passage the man who ran across the road had a big door-mat in his hands—I took it away from him, and I and another party who was in the passage threw the woman down in the passage and put out the flames—after they were put out she said she had burnt herself, she should die, she should die, she knowed she should—that was all I heard her say—I did not ask her any questions—I saw one gentleman talking to her two or three little words—I don't know what he said—that was Mr. Limmer—I saw him stoop down and talk to her.

Cross-examined. Her words were, "I have burnt myself, I shall die, I shall die, I know I shall"—she said it twice over—the passage was crammed full of people when she said that—there was a good deal of confusion.

By the COURT. I was leaning over the woman when I heard her say this, just finishing putting her out—there were two or three parties leaning over her, one was Mr. Limmer, the others were strangers to me—Mr. Lack was the person I saw cross the road—I was talking to a chap I work with, Jim Doo—I don't know where he lives.

ALICE BOYCE . I am the daughter of the prisoner and deceased—I lived with them at this time—I was not at home at the time of this occurrence—I was coming down St. James's Road when I met the ambulance with my mother on it, but I did not know then that it was her—I went to the hospital—she had arrived there before I got there—she was lying on the ambulance in the passage—I said to her, "Mother, how did you meet with this accident?"—she said she was going downstairs with the lamp in her hand and she fell, and the lamp exploded—this was between 12 and 1 o'clock—I visited her again on the same day between 2 and 3 o'clock—she was then in bed in one of the wards—she then again told me the same, that she was going downstairs with the lamp, and she fell and the lamp exploded—I next saw her on the following Friday—she died on the Saturday—I had not much conversation with her then, she spoke so very low—she made the same statement on the Friday—we talked about how the accident occurred, and she repeated the same statement—my uncle was with me and heard my mother say the same—when my mother spoke to me in the passage Godinge, the policeman, and Dr. Warry, the house-surgeon, were there—I can't say whether they heard what she said—they stood at her head by the door—they stood at her head by the ambulance—I stood close by, just by the door, about 2 feet away from her—I did not go close because she smelt so, she was so frightful—it was during that time that this conversation took place—I had seen my mother about half-past 8 that evening—she then seemed rather the worse for liquor—she began jawing, and with that I walked out—she was a woman of unsteady habits—she used to drink.

Cross-examined. The policeman was as near to her as I was at the hospital—Dr. Warry stood there, and I believe he gave her something to drink—she asked him for something to drink.

Re-examined. The matron was in the room on the Sunday afternoon when this statement was repeated; she spoke very low; you had to put your ear very close—the matron was not standing by the bed—I did not ask my mother in the matron's presence how it happened, and she did not answer "Your father flung the lamp at me."

MARY BENSON (Re-examined by the COURT). I heard some one scream as I was sitting at my kitchen fire, and I ran upstairs in the passage—there are two flights of stairs from the kitchen to the passage—I only heard the one scream, and then I rose and went up—the first thing I saw was Mrs. Boyce in flames—she was then running down the stairs—she was on the first flight of stairs from the passage—I saw her on the landing, and was coming down the other flight of stairs—when I rushed to the street door she was harrying—she was not below the landing, just on the landing, the first landing from the passage.

Witnesses in Reply.

FRANCIS GODINGE (Re-examined). I was not present when the deceased was lying in the ambulance at the hospital—directly I got to the hospital I went outside—I did not hear any conversation between the deceased and her daughter.

A. J. WARRY (Re-examined). I was at the hospital by the ambulance when the daughter came—I did not hear the deceased say that she was going downstairs with the' lamp in her hand and she fell and the lamp exploded; I heard no such conversation—I was rendering all the assistance I could—I was directing my attention to the injuries of the patient—I paid particular attention to what she said, because I wanted to know the cause of her injuries—I was trying to quiet the daughter, she was making rather a disturbance—I was close enough to hear all that was said; it may possibly have been said without my hearing it—if a person tell with a paraffin lamp, and it exploded and set the person in flames, I should not think the person would be able to recover and get up and move—a sister of the hospital, Miss Lempricht, was present by the ambulance.

ELIZABETH LEMPRICHT . I am a night sister at the Great Northern Hospital—I was present when the deceased was brought there—there were two women standing at the hall door—the prisoner's daughter was one of them—I told her to come and see her mother before she was taken into the ward—she came to her mother, who was lying in the ambulance—she said "Oh, mother, how did you do it I" or "Oh, mother, why did you do it 1"—the deceased did not seem to understand what she said—after that she called her and spoke to her—I could not hear what she said, no one could—I did not hear her say that she was going downstairs with the lamp in her hand, she fell, and the lamp had exploded—if she had said so I must have heard it.

MARIA ELIZA BARBER . I am lady superintendent at the Great Northern Hospital—I was present on the Sunday afternoon when the deceased was admitted into the hospital; when her daughter came—I said to her "I think your mother should tell you what she has told me, as she is likely not to live, or that she is quite likely to die from these injuries"—I then turned to the woman and said "I think you ought to tell your

daughter what you have told me—she seemed to consider for a moment and them turning round towards where we were standing, said "Your father flung the lamp at me"—I then said to the girl "You must remember what your mother has said, as she is likely to die from these injuries"—before the daughter had come the deceased had made a communication to me—I left the ward when the mother said that; she said nothing more while I was in the ward.

Cross-examined. I asked the deceased how it happened, and it was in answer to that she made the statement, and then it was that I suggested it should be repeated to the daughter—she was in a very bad state, but perfectly sensible.

GUILTY .— Twelve Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-217
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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217. JOHN WENNER (24) , Robbery with violence on Archibald Swan and stealing a watch, his property.

MR. POYNDER Prosecuted.

ARCHIBALD SWAN . I live at 2, Hancock Road, Bromley-by-Bow, and am retired from business—I was by trade a carpenter—on Wednesday afternoon, 12th August last, about 10 minutes to 5, I was walking in High Street, Bromley—four men came forwards; the first one snatched at my watch, and tore it off and took it, and I was knocked over in the mud and a good deal injured; I was hurt a good deal on the left side—they kicked me a good deal—one of the men, named Marchant, has been convicted at this Court; he was the man that took away my watch—I swore to him, but as to the other three I could not identify them—I could not swear to the prisoner being one of them—the man that took my watch was in front; the other three were behind—I have got my watch back.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I could not positively say that I saw you there, but I believe you were one of them, from the circumstance that one of the party had on a white jacket, and the policeman said you were the only party that had on a white jacket.

WILLIAM PHILLIPS (Policeman K 646). At 4.30 on 12th August I was in High Street, Bromley, in company with R 610—I saw four men; the prisoner is one of them—they were about seven yards this side of the corner of the Seven Stars in High Street; we were keeping observation upon them—as the prosecutor came round the corner from Si Leonard Street they all four instantly set upon him, and forced him to the ground, and stole his watch, but at the time I did not see what they took; they seemed to take their departure as soon as possible down St. Leonard Street—I am positive the prisoner was one of the four men—I caught Marchant, and he has been convicted—the prisoner was brought to the station on the 18th January for not answering as an expiree—I have known him well by sight for about 12 months—he had on a white jacket—he ran away.

WILLIAM STACEY (Policeman K 610). I was on duty with Phillips on the afternoon of 12th August, and saw the prisoner there in company with three others; I knew him before—I saw all four take hold of the prosecutor round the neck—he raised his stick, in the attitude of striking one, when he was knocked to the ground—I did not see anything done to him when he was on the ground—I and Phillips ran and I caught Wood, and Phillips caught Marchant—the prisoner got away; he had on a white jacket—I am positive of him; I have known him for the last four years.

GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction in August, 1877.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-218
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

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218. JOHN MURPHY (25) and HENRY HURLEY (19) , Robbery with violence on Jogel Leckter and stealing a purse and 5s.

MR. RIBTON Prosecuted.

JOGEL LECKTER (Interpreted). I am a sailor, a Russian Fin—on 20th January I was living at a boarding-house in High Street, Shadwell—about 12.30 that night I was going with a girl—I met the two prisoners; Hurley caught hold of me by the throat, and Murphy put his hand in my right trousers pocket, and took out my purse, containing 5s.—I struck them and knocked them down, and picked up my purse from the ground, but the money was gone—the prisoners got up and ran away—I had had my purse and money safe about five minutes before—I ran after them, and came up to Murphy; the policeman had hold of him—I did not lose sight of them; I am quite sure they are the men—I was quite sober—I had a knife in my pocket; I did not take it out or use it.

Cross-examined by Murphy. I did not push up against you—I did not pull out my knife and cut you across the eye—I did not follow you across the road with the open knife—you were not bleeding—I told the policeman I had a knife, and I gave it to him—the knife fell on the ground—I took it out, and put it in my pocket again for nobody to see it; I did not open it—I took it out because I was frightened you were going to do me an injury.

Cross-examined by Hurley. I am sure it was you caught hold of my neck; you came from behind, and caught me by the throat—I kicked you, and you ran away—I struck you, and you fell down—I found my purse bout a yard from where you ran away; it was closed—you did not say I had stabbed Murphy—I can't recollect whether he was bleeding.

Re-examined. I struck Murphy with my fist on the chest.

ROBERT BROWN (Policeman K 632). Between 12 and 1 o'clock on the morning of 21st January I heard a disturbance in Cable Street, and saw the prisoners in Antony Street; Hurley was at the corner of Cornwall Street—I did not know him before—he said that he would give the prosecutor, who came up with Murphy, in custody for stabbing Murphy—I could not understand the prosecutor—I asked him if he had a knife; he said "No," as I understood, and slipped a knife inside his trousers, which fell on the ground closed—there was blood on Murphy's eye, which appeared rather like the cut of a knife—Hurley was urging Murphy to give him in custody for stabbing him, and the prosecutor was trying to explain something all the time, but I could not understand him, and Murphy said that he would not charge him—the prosecutor took his purse out of his pocket and threw it on the ground, and by signs explained to me how he had been robbed; I thought he meant that 5s. was taken—I took Hurley in custody—Murphy had gone away—I wrote this down afterwards; Hurley said "I should not remain here and talk to you if I had done it"—Brown and I went to the Great Eastern Chambers, which is a common lodging-house, and took Murphy in custody there—Hurley said to him at the station "Through being in your company I have got into this"—Murphy made no answer, and they were both locked up—the prosecutor appeared quite sober.

Cross-examined by Hurley. You wanted Murphy to charge the prosecutor, and I said "Go away"—when he took out his purse he opened it and threw it on the ground, and then I understood that he had been robbed.

Cross-examined by Murphy. Before lie pulled his purse out you walked away—I let you go because I did not understand then that he had been robbed.

HENRY BROWN (Policeman K 311). I came up to where the last witness was—Hurley was there talking to the prosecutor, and Murphy came up a second or two afterwards—Hurley said "Give him in charge, George, for stabbing you"—Murphy said "No, I will forgive him," and went away—the prosecutor then complained, in Hurley's presence, of losing 5s.—as well as I could understand him, he said "These two men came up, Hurley caught me by the back of the neck, and Murphy put his hands in my pockets, and took my purse out and my 5s."—he said that he picked the purse up off the ground—I did not see it thrown on the ground—he did not show it till we got to the station—I went with Robert Brown to Great Eastern Chambers, took Murphy, and told him the sailor charged him with the other man of robbing him of 5s.—he said "Why should not he forgive me for robbing him, when I forgave him for stabbing me?"

Murphy. Those words were never said.

Witness. I took them down—there was a little blood on you, not much; it might have been from your being struck by a fist—I found 6 1/2 d. on you—the prosecutor was perfectly sober—you were not running when I met you—you turned back when you saw me and the prosecutor together—you were bleeding from your eye—you did not say "This man has stabbed me"—you said "Give him in charge, George, for stabbing you," and he said "No, I will forgive him for what he has done"—the other policeman told you to go away, and Hurley said "Lock him up"—you never said "He has stabbed me"—when the prosecutor's knife was picked up he said that he never struck you with a knife, but that the knife belonged to him—I went to the door of the lodging-house and said "Where is the man who has got his eye cut 1"—you shouted out "Here I am," and I said "You will have to come to the station with me," and you said "I will forgive the man, 1 don't wish to lock him up; he ought to forgive me for robbing him."

Re-examined. The prosecutor said that he had no knife, but the policeman picked the knife up at the same time—I wrote this as soon as I got to the station, and it has been filed there ever since—I have not read it through.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Hurley says: "A girl was present with the man, and she saw whether I attempted to jump on the man's back. The prosecutor is swearing my life away. I tried to stop him from cutting Murphy, and he hit me and knocked me down, but when 1 was asked to give the prosecutor in charge I did not touch him. He shut up the knife when he saw the constable." Murphy says: "I have got nothing to say. What the prosecutor says is false. I want my witnesses to prove that the prosecutor was blind drunk."

Murphy in his defence stated that the prosecutor, who was with a girl, pushed against him, and he said "what are you doing?" and the prosecutor pulled out a knife and cut him across the eye, which bled a. great deal, but he could not say whether the knife was open or shut. That he went to the station with the policeman, thinking he was wanted to charge the prosecutor, but denied saying anything about forgiving him for robbing him. Hurley stated that the prosecutor was telling lies to save himself from being locked up, and that he had never been locked up before.

ROBERT BROWN (Re-examined). The knife was closed when I picked it up—I saw it fall from inside his trousers—I did not see him put it inside, but I saw his hands in—I understood him to say that it belonged to him—I opened it', there was no blood on it or any stain whatever, if there had been I should have taken him in custody—I gave it back to him.

GUILTY . Murphy was further charged with a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell, in February, 1869, to which he


MURPHY.—** Five Years' Penal Servitude.

HURLEY.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, February 11th and 12th, 1880.

Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-219
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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219. JAMES BAKER (39) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering the indorsement to a cheque for 63l. 7s. 10d.; also to two other indictments for likeoffences.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-220
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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220. JACOB MELLINGER (37) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 105l. 3s. 6d. from Ephraim Hines, with intent to defraud.


MR. BESLEY Defended.

EPHRAIM HINES . I live at 3, Sidney Road—in September last I put an advertisement in the papers—I had saved about 120?. in twenty years, and in answer I received a letter enclosing a card, and I went down and saw the prisoner at 23, Cadogan Terrace, Victoria Park; he said "I am a manufacturing chemist and M.D. as well, and for many years past I have been carrying on the business of a manufacturing chemist in Berlin, but having a wish to live in England I have sold the business and premises which were mine, with the stipulation that the machinery remains, and it will be forwarded to England shortly; I want an energetic young man like you, an Englishman, to assist me in working up a business in London; I have discovered a machine for making butterine from vegetable oil, a perfectly wholesome compound, scarcely distinguishable from butter"—that he had patented that method and sold it to the authorities at Frankfort, but the patent did not extend to England; he said "I also hold a certificate of merit for my manufacture of Eau de Cologne," and showed it to me, it was not in English—he also told me that he had discovered, after many years of study and immense cost, a luminous paint, which Mr. Bush had offered a good round sum for, and mentioned several other inventions, and told me that he had made a great deal of money by his business in Berlin, but had lost a great deal in buying Turkish Bonds, and since being in England his expenses had been very high, sometimes as much as 30s. a day at the hotel, in consequence of which he wanted a temporary advance for about three weeks or so until he received the purchase money of this property at Berlin, 50,000 marks, and whatever was advanced he would repay—he showed me his furniture, which he said he had paid for, and he had been, put to a great expense in furnishing his house at Cadogan Terrace—he said it was his and was paid for—I told him I would think the matter over and let him know—he showed me the deed of purchase of the factory at Berlin, and translated it to me, but not at the first interview—he wanted me to advance him some money to help him over the temporary difficulties and to make samples before the purchase money arrived in England, and I told Fourth Session, 1879—80.

him I would consider it and let him know—I went to see him next day and he was out—I said I would call again, but I think I wrote to him afterwards declining it—I then went to the North of England to my home and on 28th October I received this card. (This was from the prisoner, making an appointment at his factory)—in consequence of that I went with my wife to 46, Osborne Road, Victoria Park, and saw the prisoner there, another young man, a German, and two little girls, who were labelling bottles of stuff of some kind—it is a four-roomed cottage with a warehouse at the back; one room was fitted up with shelves and glass bottles, empty, and upstairs there were full bottles, and some empty boxes; some bottles were labelled "Eau de Cologne, double distilled, manufactured by Dr. Mellinger, of Cologne, on the Rhine"—the little girls were labelling them, and stamping them with wax J.M.—he gave me a sample bottle, which was pretty fair—it smelt of Eau de Cologne—he said that Mr. Bush had sent him 43l. worth of goods, and showed me the invoices, some of which were for essential oils—he said that Mr. Bush would take a large quantity of the manufactured articles, he buying the raw material from Bush, and that Cannon and Brown, of Windmill Street, had given him orders which he was then executing, and he showed me more stuff which was being sent out—he then said "You see your first decision was an unwise one," and that he did not like to owe any one money, and wanted an advance of 40l. to pay for the goods from Bush, if I would agree to his terms, and as security he would make an assignment of the goods—he also said that he should want to have my name in conjunction with his, but did not want me to incur any responsibility, or advance any money whatever—he said "I have more money myself than I can use," and mentioned property in and near Berlin, in addition to the chemical works, and he said that the factory was at 22, Frederick Street, Berlin, as far as I remember the number—I did not advance him any money at this interview, but I saw him almost daily, and he took me and my wife from the factory to his house, and showed us the furniture, and said that it was his own—he subsequently offered me a bill of sale, and on the 4th of November I advanced him 40l. in two sums of 51. and 35l., and he gave me this promissory note for 40l., payable 31 days after date, as he said that I could not have the money till he got it from Berlin—when I advanced him 5l. at the factory he gave me a sort of assignment of the goods there—I drew it up and he signed it—I know that it was not a legal instrument because it was not stamped, and therefore I did not preserve it—he wanted me near him, and about that time I' removed to Homerton to be near the factory—I afterwards advanced him other sums—I went a good deal to the factory, but did not do anything, as he would not let me interfere—on the 26th of November I advanced him 65l. 3s. 6d., making the amount 105l. 3s., and he gave me the promissory note for 65l. 3s. 6d.—he showed me a letter stating that 20l. had been sent him from Germany to his bankers' agent in Thames Street, but said "I have hot the means even to go to the City for it"—I said "What have you done with the money you had from me?"—he said "I have not spent more than 20l. on the business, but have had very heavy expenses, and it is all &6ne," and he asked me to borrow 10s. of my brother, who was there messing about, but not working, and then he would get the 20l. and hand me over half of it, which would carry me over the week, and on Monday I should have all—I borrowed the 10s. in the evening, and in the morning, as soon

as the house was open, and a poor German gentleman stepped in and had a short conversation with the prisoner in German—the prisoner said "Give me that 10s.; this is my friend Dr. Saxe, of Norwood, and I am going with him to the City for the money"—I gave him the 10s., they left together, and he told me to take charge of the factory till he came back—he was away four or five hours, and when he came back I asked him for the 10l. which I was to receive—he said that awing to some irregularity he had not been able to get it, but was to have it to-morrow certain—I then complained bitterly about the way he was treating me and he pulled out a half-crown and a florin, and offered me the station with my brother, and saw him there, and said "What about my money? I think I am in a fair way of being swindled out of it"—he said "Oh, no, you shall be paid your money; you shall have your money"—I went to 25, Cadogan Terrace, and found that his wife and family had gone, and a constable was in possession of the house—a little time after that I obtained a warrant—I afterwards examined the Ean de Cologne at the factory, and found it to be methylated spirit in the bottles, and in some of them water—I have never been repaid a halfpenny—I lent him the money on the faith of his being a manufacturing chemist, and having sold this business in Berlin, for which he was to receive the money, and of his having machinery value 400l., which was in transmission to England, to be put into the new factory, and because he said that he would guarantee that before a year was out I should receive good wages, not less than 2l. a week.

Cross-examined. I went to Mr. Ogle, my solicitor, on the 28th of November, the day after the prisoner was locked up on a charge of indecent assault—I went and swore an information the same day—I was first examined by word of mouth in the presence of the prisoner and his solicitor—I do not know how I got the warrant, I was so excited over the loss of my money that I did not know what I did—I knew what I was talking about to my solicitor—my age is 36—I was a goal warder at Huntingdon three years, but that is ten years ago—my wife was allowed to live there—we have no family—I had a salary—I have not been a policeman, I have been a marble mason—I was never warder of a lunatic asylum—I was a photographer, but only for my own amusement—I know nothing about business—I can manage to write a letter, and make what I have to say intelligible—I was born of poor parents in Suffolk, and had to go to work in the fields at 1s. a week, and had no education whatever, I could neither read or write—I have had no education but what I gave myself—these three letters are in my writing at the prisoner's dictation—he did not tell me how to spell "opodeldoc," I knew—when I made my complaint I said that partnership was to be a thing of the future—he was to repay me my money, and give me the option of a partnership, but I was never to invest any money in the business, because he said he had plenty of his own—my brother sued him for wages in the Shoreditch County Court—I went into the witness box and said that no partnership existed between us, not that there had been no idea of one—I did not advertise that I wanted a partnership, but I expressed a desire to meet with somebody who would take me into partnership if it was proved to be sound—I said at the police-court that

a certificate of merit for manufacturing Eau de Cologne was shown me—I heard the Magistrate discuss with Mr. Ogle whether it was a false pretence or not—Mr. Ogle asked me if I had money to bring witnesses from Berlin; I said "No, I am swindled out of every penny;" he said "Then you cannot put written evidence before the Court"—I found out Dr. Saxe when Mr. Ogle told me to do so—I did not mention him at the police-court—I don't remember whether I mentioned 22, Frederick Street at the police-court, I did if I was asked—what I said was read over to me—I just went into the factory every day, but I did not go up each day into the chambers—I did not stay there daily from morning to evening—I wrote down this inventory of the property, at his dictation, and thought it much too high, it came to 80l.—I saw some of the articles (This was a list of fixtures, chemicals, and other articles amounting to 89l. 13s. 10 1/2 d.)—this "idiotine" is Mellinger's name for iodine, you will see it so printed on the bottles—all the essences and essential oils were received afterwards—he asked me to draw the form of a bill of sale for him, but I never saw one in my life, and could not do such a thing—I drew an assignment of all this property to secure me the money, but as it was not stamped I thought it was no good, the promissory note covered it, and therefore I preserved the promissory note only, which I thought was as good as the assignment of the property—I also started on a draft deed of partnership, but it was never finished; I was going to submit it to him at the beginning of the new year, when he agreed that the partnership was to begin—this is it (produced)—I swear, in the face of any number of witnesses, that this is the paper I produced at the police-court I got it from Mr. Ogle yesterday—it is my writing, but it is not all my composition—he objected to it, as he said there were a lot of things which were quite unnecessary, and he would strike them out—I copied it from a form in "Beaton's Partnership," and altered it as I thought proper—I have got the original draft, but it is not here; the one I placed before him I took home and burnt—this is the one I produced at the police-court—my charge on the 5th of December was not obtaining 5l. and 10s., but 105l. 3s. 6d. and 10s.—I believed he would have both money and machinery—I told the Treasury that I had no funds—I did not know that Mr. Green had come from Berlin till I saw him at the police-court—I had seen Mr. Wontner and given him the general particulars—February 5 was not the first time I mentioned 22, Frederick Street and Lanberger Street, I mentioned them to Mr. Pollard at the Treasury—I do not remember being asked before the Magistrate whether he gave an address in Berlin, and saying that I could not remember—there may been an argument about it being of no use getting a witness from Berlin as I could not give the number of the house—I put the name of Hines and Mellinger on a piece of stone so that we should see the number—I do not know whether it is there now—I did not represent at the factory that I wanted, as partner, to buy a plot of land belonging to Mrs. Bates to erect a factory, but I heard Mellinger say so—I did not contradict it—I heard him tell two other gentlemen the same thing—I did not write a letter about it signed "Mellinger and Hines" to Mrs. Bates nor to her solicitors—the prisoner asked me to write some letters about it, one was to a gentleman named Swift, and I forget the named of the other—he told me to order labels to be

printed in the name of Mellinger and Hines, and I did so, as he said that the partnership would be arranged, and I should get my money back—I was to become a partner, and have back all my money, and take half the profits of the business; I was to work up the business, and afterwards retire and receive nothing—I would have taken half if he would give it me, but I did not suppose he would—he said that if I proved energetic he would deal very liberally with me—I asked him if he would object to half, seeing that I was only to be in for a short time; he said that it should not exceed three years—I did not tell Miss Alice Bates that I was a partner of Dr. Mellinger's; I said that I wanted a house, and Dr. Mellinger sent me; I will swear I did not say, "I am a partner"—I ordered jointly with the prisoner a guinea's worth of these papers to be printed, to be in readiness for 1st January when the partnership was arranged—this is the 50,000 marks document which was shown to me—I received from the prisoner when he was in custody a little key of Mr. Moody's writing-desk—I did not go and take possession of all that was there when I found the police in possession of the private residence—I did not go to the factory and take possession—Mellinger gave the key to my brother in my presence just after I put a new lock on—my brother had the key of the factory all the time—I did not represent to the Country Court Judge that I had the key of the factory in my pocket—I have never threatened Mrs. Mellinger—I met her once in the street and she spoke to me—I did not say that I should be very glad to get back my money and did not care about punishing Mellinger, or that I liked him very much and did not want to see him punished; I could not say that after he had done me out of all my money—I did not say to her, "If you do not give me up your trinkets and jewellery I will have him sent to prison for seven years"—she speaks German and I English—I have said that it would be a greater punishment to me than it would be to him—I swear I do not remember using the pharse, "Seven years"—I did not write, or dictate, or cause the letter to be written to Mrs. Mellinger, nor did I know of it being written (This was signed "Adam Shornfeldt")—my interference with her was just mentioned at the police-court, but I did not hear one word of reproof from the Magistrate—I had nothing to do with getting a box to pack her clothes to go abroad—Mellinger had his letters at his own house, and I never saw them—I remember nothing about a letter or a post-office order being sent for—I do not know whether the furniture was made in Berlin—as near as I remember only 30s. was paid to Kelner Brothers for goods—I did not buy them in Mellinger and Hine's name; I took a written order and paid an account—I did not represent myself as a partner to them—Maw supplied goods to the amount of 9l. 11s. 9d.; that is part of the 100l. I charge him with—I did not supply money for the wages; I do not even know what they were—I did not pay for corks or labels, and the bottles are not paid for—I do not remember ever calling myself a partner.

Re-examined. I have never obtained any profit from these goods; none have been sold—all the essences and essential oils were removed by Messrs. Bush—my brother sued the defendant in the Country Court for wages, because Mellinger would not pay him—I did not hear from the prisoner that the furniture was only on hire till after he was in custody—he had told me that it was all paid for—I only know a work or two of German, and the letter signed Adam Shornfeldt is not my writing—I do not know any person of that name—there was never any partnership deed existing—

it was agreed that I was not to bring any capital into the business—there was no talk about my paying 100l. to the joint account—I never had any account at a bank—the defendant spoke to me in English; he is a man of fair education; I could understand him.

ELIZABETH HINES . I am the wife of the last witness. I went with him to the factory in Osborne Road in October—we saw the prisoner; he showed us over the factory, and wanted my husband to lend him some money—he said that he had 1,500 marks coming from Berlin, but was temporarily short, and when he received his money he would pay him back, and them he should have much more money than he would need in the factory—he showed me a plot of ground at the back of the house, and said he would buy it and build a factory—I saw several packages which he said were sold and were to be sent to the depot in Windmill Street, Cannon and Brown's—he took us to a house in Cadogan Terrace, and showed us all over it—he said he had spent a great deal of money in paying for the furniture since he came to England, and we afterwards went to live at Homerton, and I saw him once afterwards, but there was no conversation.

Cross-examined. I saw the draft of a partnership deed; it was not printed—since 1874 my husband has been a foreman at Stockton-on-Tree—some Germans were employed there, but I do not think he ha acquired the language; he cannot speak a word of it—I was with him at Huntingdon, and was female warder temporarily—I am not quite sure whether this assignment is his writing or not; I doubt it—don't know about the other paper—it is something like his—this (Another) is not writing, nothing like it, not the part I see—I gave my evidence to Mr. Wontner—I did not know of a partnership existing; it had not existed; it was to come into force in the new year, after the money was repaid—my brother-in-law still has the factory key.

Re-examined. Looking at the whole of this letter and the envelope, I say that it is not in my husband's writing—I do not know any one named Adam Shornfeldt.

WILLIAM JOHN BUSH . I am a manufacturing chemist, of Artillery Lane, Bishopsgate—I became acquainted with the prisoner in September—he wrote to me, I replied, and he called and said that he wanted goods, and had heard that we were the best people he could come to—he mentioned his several inventions, and said that he should want two or three weeks credit, but he had property in Berlin which was in due course of being conveyed, and about September he would be in possession of about 50,000 marks—this is the first letter I received from him; it has been traslated—I supplied him with goods; I did not agree to take goods in return—I never contracted to buy manufactured goods of him—I sent for my goods back about a month afterwards, and got about two-thirds of them.

Cross-examined. The letter says "I possess a mortgage deed of about 50,000 marks"—I don't know that he repeated that verbally—I did not examine the papers he showed me—he gave me references—I went to Messrs. Cannon, and answers were satisfactory—he afterwards came to me and said that he had sold some of my goods, but had made a bad debt, the man had deceived him, and he could not get the money—I felt uneasy, and said if he would send the rest of the goods back I would take them, and he assented, and he sent me about 40l. worth back out of the 60l. I had sent

him—I know that eau de Cologne is made in London—some butterine was brought to toe by the detective, but it was too bad to be a Substitute for hotter—the prisoner speaks English with a foreign accent.

Re-examined. The samples are a very poor quality for the articles they represent—they are made by lots of people, and there was nothing in the shape of an invention—the prices charged are low, but they Were for a low description of goods.

ANTONIO CANNON . I live at 36, Windmill Street, Finsbury, and am a general merchant—the prisoner came to me in July or August, and I undertook on one occasion to be his reference to Messrs. Muder, the furniture people—I replied to a letter they sent me concerning him—I never undertook to buy any of his goods—he sent us some to sell on commission, and we accepted them, but did not sell any, because they Were inferior to what he promised, and we gave him notice to remove them, which he did—he said that he had paid for his furniture.

Cross-examined. He said that he was a physician, and had just come from Berlin, and had received a reward there for his book on chemistry—he paid me for the Various things he had from me—he asked me to be his reference, as he only knew one gentleman in London, and he was going abroad; that was Dr. Saxe, of Norwood—ho said that he had property in Berlin value 2,000l.—I only understand a little German: he spoke enough English for anybody to understand him—I went to his house once, but did not notice whether the furniture was of foreign manufacture—he told me that he was manufacturing pencils for writing on glass—I consented to his labels being printed "Depot 36, Windmill Street," but no name—the arrangement was sale oreturn—we never had any eau de Cologne as low as 5s. a dozen; the price he gave us was 9s. 6d., I think, but still it was not I quality I approved of, or What he represented.

Re-examined. We did not sell a halfpennyworth of it—he paid us for the goods, and then we became his reference.

FRANK MOEDBR . I am a furniture dealer, of 248, Tottenham Court Road—the prisoner came there, but I did not see him; he filled up this form of application for furniture on hire (produced), and I supplied him with furniture value 50l. or 60l. at Cadogan Terrace, with the option of purchase—it has never been paid for, and the have got it back.

Cross-examined. I have got 17l. besides—t ascertained first that he had paid his rent six months in advance—I never went on the premises, and cannot say whether there was other furniture there—I saw by the papers that he was taken in custody on a charge of indecent assault and fraud, and then, on 8th December, I sent my man and removed all my property.

THEODORE BOXD . I am one of the firm of Bond and Co., shipping agents, of Fish Street Hill—on 6th November the prisoner ordered a van to go to Cadogan Terrace, to fetch some goods Which were to be ware-housed, as he was leaving his house and going to Rotterdam—I sent a van, hut the premises Were in the hands of the police, and nothing was done.

Cross-examined. I did not go myself—there were two large bundles, a small case, a large case, two trunks, and a bundle of bedding—he said that he expected his mother-in-law from Rotterdam, and it depended upon whether she liked England or not whether he remained.

RICHARD COOPER (Policeman N 420). On 28th nov. I was on duty In Cadogan Terrace, Victoria Park, and saw a van arrive outside No. 23—1

assisted in trying to get in, but could not succeed, and the van went away—I remained in possession of the house—the prisoner had been taken in custody the night before—I found several hampers, boxes, and packing-cases ready packed up—another cart came for some furniture in the afternoon, but I would not allow it to be removed—Mrs. Mellinger came later in the day, and I gave up possession to her.

Cross-examined. I do not know what was in the packing-cases—I was on the beat and found the door open at 7 a.m.

JULIUS PAULY . I am clerk to Elkin and Co., of Upper Thames Street—on 27th November I received 201. from a banking firm for the prisoner, and on the same day I went to 23, Cadogan Terrace, and from there to the factory, where I saw the prisoner, and paid him the 20l., less the rate of exchange—I did not call myself Dr. Saxe.

Cross-examined. Some one was there, but I do not know whether it was Hinds—two or three gentlemen were in the office—I made no conceal ment, but I do not know whether I said aloud that I had the money with me—Mellinger said that the I O U was at his private house, and we went there—I speak German—he never said that I was Dr. Saxe.

Re-examined. The money was paid at his private house—nobody was present.

WILLIAM HENRY LEE GREEN . I live at 40, Grosser Berliner Strasse, Berlin, and am an engineer—I know the prisoner—in September, 1877, he lived at a private house there, 156, Kurfurster Strasse—I obtained a mortgage for him on another house, and proceedings were taken in the Foreclosure Courts of Berlin—the house was sold by order of Court, and purchased it—in 1878 I knew him as living in Landsberger Strasse; he had a plate on his door with the equivalent of M.D. on it—he was a Doctor of Medicine at that time, but I did not know him as practising—never knew him living at 22 Friederich Strasse—I know the street well, there is no factory at No. 22, there are 300 houses it—the last time I at him in Berlin was at the end of June or the beginning of July, 1878—he did not leave Berlin till the end of November, 1878—I have no reason to believe he ever had a factory of any sort in Berlin, and never heard of it from him—I did not see him constantly—I did not know him as a manufacturing chemist, or in connection with any manufactory at all.

Cross-examined.—I lent my money on the mortgage and lost it—there is only one Friederich Strasse in Berlin—there are no two streets there of the same name, but there is Friederich Strasse and New Friederich Strasse, one is about three miles long, and the other four—I have never seen him since I lost my money in June or July, 1878, till I came to this country—bought up the second mortgage in the Foreclosure Court, and have got it now—I shall not have had my money back as soon as it becomes worth 40,000 thalers, I have had to pay two years' interest—house property in Berlin has diminished seriously in value during the last two years—I have made a mistake, it was 9,000 thalers, not 11,000—it was 3,600, 4,000, 6,000, and the interest—the prisoner's wife had another interest for 20,000 tha ers, which had gone out of her hands long before—I do not know what the house cost; I did not inquire before I advanced the money—I understand German well—this (produced) is a receipt for 3,722 marks, the duty is 1l. per cent., which means it is sold for 100 more, which would be about 90,000 thalers—in Germany we buy a mortgage in the open market, and

so I did not come in contact with Mr. Mellinger, I bought it of some one else.

Witnesses for the Defence;

CHABLES JOHN FUNNELL . I am clerk to Mr. Silverlock, of Blackfriars Road; Hines came to our shop four or five times—I showed him pattern labels, and he afterwards wrote on my samples what he wanted printed instead of what I showed him—he said, "We are going to take premises in Hackney; at present we have only a small place, and shall only want a few labels until the premises are built, we shall want more when our place is done." I prepared these labels (produced) at his request—he did not at any interview alter his statement as to who he was—I received this letter and invoice, which are in his writing—the letter is in answer to a label which I sent him for approval, and the price, and he agreed to take 1,000 at 8s.—I only knew Hines in the matter.

JOSEPH WILLIAM KELLY . I am agent to Mrs. Bates, the landlady of the factory—I saw Hines and Mellinger with reference to a negotiation for building a factory on some land—nothing was removed from the factory when the prisoner was taken; the goods were there.


There was another indictment against the prisoner, which was postponed to the next Session.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, 12th February, 1880.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-221
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

221. JAMES MELDRUM and GEORGE ROSE MARTIN , Unlawfully publishing a libel of and concerning Edward Rossiter.

MR. TERRELL Prosecuted; MESSRS. BESLBY and TIOKELL defended Martin; MR. GILL defended Meldrum.

EDWARD ROSSITER . I am the prosecutor in this case and reside at Rose Cottage, Egham—Meldrum was the printer of the Beekeeper and Martin was my copartner, and editor of the Beekeeper—these (produced) are copies of the Beekeeper for the months of October and November 1879—I am the Mr. Edward Rossiter referred to in the imprint—I was publisher and part owner—it (produced) purports to be a copy of December 1879. (This paper contained the following announcement; "Apology.—The letters we have received complaining of delay in answering inquiries, acknowledging subscriptions, and of attending to business generally, have lately been so numerous that we cannot reply to each one separately. We take this opportunity of making an apology to all who have addressed us, and of informing them that owing to the unsatisfactory state of affairs brought on by this great dilatoriness, we have taken the business away from our late publisher, and shall pro tern, carry it on ourselves. 'If you want a thing done do it yourself.'—George Rose.") I purchased this on December 30th, at 39, Catherine Street, the office of the paper, and also the office of the prisoner, Mr. Meldrum—the date is December 15th—Mr. Martin was in the habit of writing in the name of George Rose, and letters were so addressed to him—this is the register of Stationers' Hall of my name as the proprietor on the paper, dated 18th December—my duties as publisher would be to buy the paper and arrange with the printer; a manager would do the same, obtain advertisements, and dispatch the paper through the trade—Mr. Martin never complained of my not carrying out my duties—I was not

guilty of any negligence—I acknowledged subscriptions when they arrived—Mr. Martin, as a rule, received and opened letters—I acknowledged all subscriptions that came into my hands.

Cross-examined. I did not swear before Sir James Ingham I had been 20 years a publisher, but that I had been in the trade 20 years—I am now 37—I went to school at Exeter when I was about four or five—I left school in 1858, and went to Messrs. Smith and Sons in 1859—I was then 16—I was dismissed in May, 1863, I had received 30s. a week there—in 1863 I went to Smith, Holmes, and Co., as confidential clerk—I left them the latter part of 1864—in 1865 I went to Willing and Co., the contractors—I had 150l. a year—I left there in March or April, 1865, of my own accord—I then took over The Grocer and canvassed for advertisements—no complaint was made of my conduct—I became a bankrupt—in 1868 I went to Messrs. Hopkins, of Carey Street—I was there two years—then I became the publisher of the Commercial Review, at 144, Fleet Street—I have testimonials in Court now from them—I left in 1868, and published the Marlborough Magazine for the same proprietors—then I went to the General Omnibus Company, who contract for advertisements—I was connected with The Examiner last March—I was there three months—two policemen were called in and turned me out last May—I simply kicked the proprietor, Elim D'Avidor—J. will swear the police have not been called in at other times—I brought an action against The Examiner to recover money—M. D'Avidor got a. judgment against me for 12l.—he levied on my furniture, but as I had a bill of sale in favour of Messrs. Thornton and Burton on it, he had to go out again—I think that is the only time I nave turned out executions by the same bill of sale—I will swear it—I was dismissed by The Mechanics' Magazine—I do not recollect being complained of in money matters after I left The Examiner I started The Beekeeper—the idea was brought to me by Mr. Martin—I know it is a misdemeanour to make a false entry at Stationers' Hall—I did not disclose that there was another proprietor, because Mr. Martin's desire was that his name should not appear—there were other reasons—I did not start the Warehousemen and Clerks' Association—I was asked to become a director and became one—I put down Mr. Meldrum's address—I never paid any rent to him—a man may live in a house without paying rent—I have not done it often—I may have written "I attended the board meeting and voted Cheshire 100l. a year for his services; he is I believe to receive it from Vacuum and Chaos"—this is my writing (Letter dated 16th October, 1879, to Mr. Martin,' and stating: "Do not be disheartened, old man, we must drag this number out some how. I think the January number will look after itself. I think it is best to see me at Co vent Garden at 10.30 to-morrow. Sigh no more, Martin, sigh no more, coin is a deceiver ever!") I provided 12l. for The Beekeeper—this is a statement of accounts—I never concealed the fact of receiving money for The Beekeeper—the letter I wrote to Mr. Martin in September, appointing to call on him on Monday, at 10.30, is the first I think—this is also my letter. (Dated October 10, 1879, and asking Mr. Martin to pay Mr. Meldrum 10l.) Also the letters of 7th October and 18th December—I did not carry away the books and papers on the 18th—I took the letters and the subscription book connected with me—I cannot say that I got a post-office order from James Vertu, of East Field Terrace, Dumfries, N.B., for 7s. on the 17th December—every item I took for The

Beekeeper is in the subscription book which is in Court—I would not sue a man of straw—I look upon Meldrum as a man of straw—I have not said I would give 100l. to see him in the dock, and did not care what became of the case afterwards—I believe the December number of The Beekeeper was printed on the 23rd December—I wrote those letters to Martin. (Dated 22nd and 29th December, declining to send subscription book and papers, and that of 29th stating: "You are by nature taciturn and suspicious, and as such impossible in business. I write this without any unkindness, for you are no more responsible for your nature than the dogs in the inn were for theirs") I did not send back the papers—I do not think that a libel because it was not published, it was a private letter—I have no regret of writing that—I think just the same.

Cross-examined by MR. GILL. It was a mutual guarantee given to Meldrum—23l. was paid for printing the first number of The Beekeeper—Martin paid 10l., I paid the balance—the amount for the second number if barely due—it has not been paid—Martin pays my share and his too as agreed—to call me "dilatory in would seriously injure me—we were to use Meldrum's office so far as letters for The Beekeeper were concerned—my name and that address were put down as a director of the Clerks' Association without my knowledge in the first place—I had nothing to do with it—I suppose the secretary put my name in the prospectus—he if a friend of mine—the bill of sale has been in existence for a long time—I never will pay costs for actions—I do not know what my qualification as a director was—I have never given Meldrum notice that I consider the agreement to pay half the costs of printing The Beekeeper at an end.

Re-examined. There was an altercation between myself and the manager of The Examiner, and we both lost our tempers; that is the explanation—when I joined it its circulation was about 500, and when I left about 700—in this statement of accounts there is a balance of 16l. 6s. for miscelslaneous expenses of Martin and myself—I received my letters at 1, Catherine Street as a matter of course—Hose Cottage, Egham, was my private address.


OLD COURT.—Friday, February 13th, 1879.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-222
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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222. JOHN HICKEY (28), WILLIAM WATSON (27), and WILLIAM WILCOX (26) , Robbery together on John Mason with violence, and stealing part of a chain his property.

MR. WAITE Prosecuted.

JOHN MASON . I am a labourer, and live at 7, Red Lion Court, Spitalfields—on Sunday night, 12th January, about half-past 12, I was in Princes Street, Spitalfields, with my wife—I met the three prisoners in the street; they were together walking in a 'row—as soon as they came up to me I eased a little bit off from the houses—they did not speak to me—Hickey made a snatch at my watch chain and broke it, and ran away with part of it—neither of the other prisoners did anything to me—Watson struck my wife and knocked her down on the pavement—they all three ran away—my wife was running after the prisoners—I saw Hickey's face—I nave never expressed any doubt about the other two men—I have not the slightest doubt about all three of them—my wife is ill and unable to leave her bed

from the violence used—she was struck in the left eye—she took to her bed on Thursday week—she has been ill ever since—Dr. Flack has been attending her—I have seen her this morning—I left her in bed—I have employed a woman to see after her.

JAMES HORNIGO (Policeman H 124). I was present when the prosecutor's wife was examined before the Magistrate, Mr. Hannay, at "Worship Street—the prisoners had an opportunity of cross-examining her, and they did cross-examine her—I saw her put her mark to her deposition. (The deposition of Mary Watson was read as follows: "I was with my husband, and Watson and one of the others, I think Wilcox, went past us, and as they passed they pushed against us, and the third man loitered behind; they turned and faced us, and Watson took hold of my husband's chain; I called out, and he hit me in the eye and knocked me down—I called "Police," and they all three ran away, and the police caught them") On 12th January I was in Brick Lane, in plain clothes—I saw Wilcox and Watson in company together at half-past 12, after midnight—they were joined by Hickey—he was standing at a lodging-house door at the corner of Princes Street—they then all three followed the prosecutor and his wife—I then lost sight of them for a time—I heard cries of "Murder" and "Police "in Princes Street, and the three prisoners came rushing back—I ran up and took hold of Hickey—he put his leg between mine and tripped me up, and we both rolled on the ground together—the other two prisoners came to his assistance, and he got away—229 H came up, and I left him with the others and gave chase after Hickey—I overtook him in Flower and Dean Street—86 H came up, and with assistance I took Hickey back to Princes Street, where the prosecutor and his wife were standing, and they identified him—I took him to the station, and the prosecutor charged him—I had never seen the prisoners in company before.

THOMAS JUDD (Policeman H 229). On 12th January I went up Princes Street and found 124 lying on his back and Hickey along with him—the other two prisoners were standing there—they were not doing anything—Hickey got away from 124 and ran down Flower and Dean Street—he was brought back again—I held the other two.

Cross-examined by Watson. You did not attempt to get away—you said nothing.

JOHN GILBERT (Policeman H 86). I was in Brick Lane and saw Hickey running—he called out "Stop him"—Hornigo was following him—I went after Hickey and caught him—he was very violent and tried to get away.

WILCOX received a good character NOT GUILTY .

HICKEY and WATSON— GUILTY .—HICKEY and WATSOX PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted.—Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-223
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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223. MARY LINAHAN (21) , Robbery with violence on Johanna Adams and stealing a purse and 5s. 6d., the property of Mrs. Adams.

MR. WAITE Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.

JOHANNA ADAMS . I am the wife of William Adams, of 30, Bangor Street, Notting Hill—on Saturday night, 10th January, about half-past 11, I was coming from Acton from my work, and crossing Bangor Street I saw two women and a man standing at the corner—the prisoner was one of the women—I had my purse in my hand with 5s. 6d. in it—the prisoner caught hold of me and asked me whether I had any money—I said, "Money, no, 1

have not"—I took my puree and put it in my bosom—she caught hold of me and throw me down and tore my dress, and tore my basket out of my hand that I carry my victuals in, and a woollen jacket—she kicked me in the head, and tore my dress open and put her hand in my bosom and took my purse—she swore dreadfully at me—I said, "Oh dear, let me get up"—she said, "No, you b——, I won't," and she threw me down again in the mud—I saw a woman passing in the street, and I asked her to see me home.

Cross-examined. I had left my work at Acton between 6 and 7—I am an ironer—I went and did a little shopping, and called to see a friend—it took me an hour to walk from Acton to Notting Hill—I only went into one public-house—I was not in there long—Bangor Street is rather a wide street—I did not see any one about at the time the prisoner threw me down; but there was a woman standing at the street door next door but one to me—I did not speak to her—the woman that was with the prisoner held me down to see whether I had any rings on my hands—I should not know that woman—I could not tell how the prisoner was dressed, it was dark—I know her by her face—she spoke to me at the lamp-post as I crossed the road—I am quite certain of her—I was quite sober.

CATHERINE ALLISON . I am the wife of Henry Allison, of 42, Crescent Street, Notting Hill—on 10th January, about half-past 11 o'clock, I was passing the Bangor beershop, at the top of Bangor Street—I saw the prisoner up with her fist and strike the prosecutrix as she was passing on the side of the face, and as she fell she kicked her in the side of the head and stunned her; then she clung to her 'bosom and tote her dress and her flesh—the prosecutrix called for assistance—I went to her—as the prisoner got up she had a woollen waistcoat on her arm, and she ran down Bangor Street—she was some minutes on the top of the prosecutrix—I assisted the prosecutrix to her door—I picked up a shawl and part of her dress, and gave to her—I saw the prisoner grab at the basket which the prosecutrix had on her arm and break the handles—I picked up her parcel, a frock with a towel round it, and I kept it as there was a lot round.

Cross-examined. I saw another woman with the prisoner, and a man—I should know the woman again—she had on a long black jacket—I had just come out to get half a pint of beer for my supper—I dare say the prisoner had the prosecutrix on the ground 5 or 10 minutes—I stood alongside—I asked the prisoner to get away from her, but she would not let her get up—I did not try to stop her when she ran away—a woman stood at the door a few yards across, but she was afraid to come over.

JAMES ATKINSON (Police Sergeant). I took the prisoner into custody on 11th January in Bangor Street about a quarter past 11 at night—I told. her she would be charged with stealing a purse containing 5s. 6d. and a shawl from a woman named Adams on the previous night—she made no reply at that time—just before getting to the station she said "Why the old b——r was drunk"—she was quite sober. Mary Nunn. I live at 28, Bangor Street—about half-past 11 on 10 January I was standing on the step of the door—I saw the prisoner coming across the road and the prosecutrix behind her, and I saw her knock the prosecutrix down into the gutter—I did not know her before—I have seen the prisoner a great many times; I knew her by sight and by name—I was afraid to say anything because she is such a violent person—I saw her

knock the prosecutrix down in the gutter, and have her down about ten minutes—I could not say what she did to her, but she had her head close to the pavement, and when she had done what she had to do with her the prosecutrix got up and crawled to the other side, and the prisoner up with her hand and hit her again.

Cross-examined. I was three doors off—I did not do anything; was too frightened—I hare never seen anybody like the prisoner; I cannot be mistaken in her.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "Iain perfectly innocent. Between 11 and 12 on the Saturday night I was with ray mother."

Witness for the Defence.

ELLEN LINAHAN . I am the wife of Thomas Linahan, a labourer, and we live in Crescent Street, Notting Hill—the prisoner is my daughter—the was taken into custody on the Sunday night—on the Saturday before that she had been very ill all day suffering from a pain in her side—she went out with me in the evening at half-past ten and returned at 11, and not feeling well she went to bed very soon after, as near as I can say at 20 minutes past 11 she was in bed; she did not get up or leave the home again.

Cross-examined. Other persons lodge in the house, a man and his wife and two children live in the kitchen—I know the time I came in that night by my clock—my daughter had been at home all day on the Saturday—I did not tell Atkinson the policeman that she did not sleep at my home on the Saturday night; that I swear—she did sleep there.

Re-examined. I did not take any part with her in a highway robbery on this night—I was called before the Magistrate on Monday, 12th January I I was speaking then of the previous Saturday.

By the COURT. My husband came home at 12—he saw my daughter after he came home—I went out marketing at half-past 10 and my daughter with me—she was suffering at that time; she came on slowly with me we went to a greengrocer's—he is not here; I have not asked him to come.

GUILTY . She also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction in August, 1875.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-224
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

224. CHARLES ARMSTRONG (27) and ELLEN ARMSTROHG (20) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of William Fuller Tufts, stealing? lockets, 4 bracelets, and other articles, his property. Second Count, Receiving the same.


WILLIAM FULLER TUFTS . I am a merchant at 9, St. luke's Road, Westbourne Park—on Saturday evening, 3rd January, I left the house with my wife about 7 o'clock, leaving the servants at home, and as far as I know the house properly secured—I returned about 12 the same night, and some little time after an alarm was given by the servants—I sent for a policeman, and went directly to the servants' room, the attic—I found the window open leading on the roof, and Mrs. Tuft's jewel case on the bed open and empty; it was usually kept in her bedroom—I then went into our bedroom, the room below; I found the bureau doors open and ransacked, and everything in a state of confusion—I missed eight dresses of Mrs. Tuft's, and in the next bedroom a chest of drawers had been

ransacked—the jewels that I missed consisted of six diamond rings, two lockets, four bracelets, two gold stars, two pins, one pair of ear jewels, one brooch, one pair of sleeve links, also a purse and a scarf—I have seen a portion of the things since; these produced are some of them, and what I missed that night.

Cross-examined. Besides the property produced I missed a great deal more, altogther worth about 1,000l.—I arrived home as near as possible about a quarter past 12 on the Saturday night—I found three rooms disturbed.

LINA. P. TUFTS . I am the prosecutor's wife—I have since seen six dresses, part of the property stolen; some of the ribbons and trimming have been cut from the dresses since—I have also seen % pig, a singlestone diamond ring, a pair of ear jewels, a malachite brooch, a pair sleeve links, a purse, and a scarf, all of which were stolen on that night.

EMILY PARKER . I am house and parlour maid in the service of Mr. Tufts—I remember their going out on Saturday evening, 3rd January, about 7 o'clock—about a quarter past 8 I went upstairs into all the rooms, amongst others the attic where I sleep; everything was then secure; the window was close shut down; I cannot say whether it was fastened—I was upstairs about a quarter of an hour; I heard no noise before my master came home—I found my bedroom door locked on the inside; I got another key and opened it; when I went in I found the window open, and the looking-glass had been removed from the table to outside the window in the gutter on the roof—one of the beds had been pulled to pieces; I saw the mark of a naked foot on the floor and some marks on the table under the window; it is a small foot-mark—I gave an alarm, and Mr. Tufts came up.

DANIEL MORGAN (Police Inspector). On the night of 3rd January, about 11 o'clock, I was called to No, 3, St. Luke's Road, three doors from Mr. Tufts'—it was an empty house—I found that the side window in the area had been forced up from the outside by means of a jemmy, the sliding shutter inside the window had been forced, and the socket of the area door which the bolt shoots into had been forced off from the inside—I went up to the top of the house into the attic—I found that window open—there is a parapet outside, about 4 feet high, running along the gutter to Mr. Tufts' house—I kept watch at No. 3 till past 12 o'clock, but saw nothing—the following morning, in consequence of information, I went to No. 9—I found the impression of a naked foot on the attic floor; it was the right foot, and a very small one—I have since examined Charles Armstrong's naked foot; that is a smaller foot, and one that would be likely to make such an impression as I saw—the impression was caused by dampness from the parapet; it was soot and water, it was almost like ink, such as would be made by a person stepping from the outside on to the boards—on the following Tuesday I went in a cab with Sergeant Melville with the male prisoner and a person named Cole, who has since been discharged—the prisoner said to Melville in the cab "It is all a fluke that you got me; you have a spite for me; if it was not for that man that bought the dresses to my house on Saturday night I should not be here now."

Cross-examined. I did not measure the impression of the footmark—I simply looked at it; it is only from that I say it resembles the prisoner's foot from the general size, and it is a remarkably small foot.

WILLIAM MELVILLE (Detective Sergeant P). On Tuesday morning, 6th January, in company with Inspector Peel and another constable, I went to Bowling Green Lane, Clerkenwell, shortly after 5 o'clock, and watched No. 36—at 8.30 I saw the male prisoner at the bottom of Corporation Row—he was walking very sharply away from No. 36, and away from where we were standing; he must have passed us or come out of 36—I went after him, came up with him, and told him I should take him into custody—before I had time to say any more he said "You won't take me, God blind me, let me go;" I had taken hold of him—he became very violent, and tried to wrench himself from my grasp—he struggled for some time, and I was thrown down twice—he bit my thumb, and struck me in the face—I was nearly exhausted when Inspector Peel came to my assist—once, and the prisoner was taken to the station; he was very violent all the way—I searched him, and found on him 11l. 10s. in gold, 2s. 6d. in silver, a small silver writing pen, and a watch-key—at the station Inspector Peel told him that he would be charged with breaking into a house in Westbourne Grove—he made no answer.

Cross-examined. Inspector Peel was about 150 yards from me when I overtook the prisoner, out of sight—I was in plain clothes—I seized him by the collar of the coat; he struggled for about 10 minutes—Peel and the others were not sure he was the man, and I was not certain myself—he had no whiskers and moustache before that.

RICHARD STEVENS (Police Sergeant N). I was in company with Melville and the others, when I saw the prisoner stopped and taken—I and Miller went to 36, Bowling Green Lane—we knocked at the side door, a little girl opened it, and we went in; the parlour door was partially open, we went in and found the female prisoner in bed with a little child—Miller said I believe your name is Brown?" she said "It is not Brown; my name is Armstrong"—Miller said "We are police officers; your husband is in custody, and we are going to search the rooms"—I commenced searching a chest of drawers in the room, and in it under a dress I found this large Indian scarf shawl, which Mrs. Tufts has identified—I also found this diamond ring, which has been identified, in a bureau at the top of the same chest of drawers, and in the same drawer as the ring I found these two revolvers; one of the revolvers has a leather strap to it to fasten round the wrist—at the station I found two rings on the woman which have not been identified—I saw Sergeant Miller find in the room two dresses tied up in a white sheet on the couch; they have been identified—I also found another dress hanging behind the door, and two more lying on a chair, and the handsome blue silk in the bottom drawer, all of which Mrs. Tufts has identified—I also saw a quantity of other property found there, consisting of jewellery and other things, of which I have a list. (This list contained a large quantity of property of various kinds, jewellery, clothing, &c., also a jemmy and hammer combined, 68 keys, a dark lantern, and other articles.) There were also two bottles of hair-dye.

Cross-examined. Miller found a bag—there was a jemmy and hammer combined amongst the things—I have not got it here—Miller found the dark lantern—the keys are not all skeleton keys, several of them are.

WILIIAM PEEL (Police Inspector G). I was in company with the other witnesses in Bowling Green Lane on this morning—I assisted Melville in apprehending Armstrong and conveying him to the station—I afterwards

went back to 36, Bowling Green Lane, and searched with the other officers, and took charge of the property found—I saw all that was found in the room, not in the stable—I found a bottle of acid, which I have here; it is used for testing gold—I tested some myself, and know it can be used for that purpose—I then went to the station, and said to Armstrong "These things have been found in your room (I had them with me), and you will be charged with breaking into the house of Mr. Tufts, and stealing them"—he replied "Well, I shall have to get out of it"—on the same day I asked the female prisoner if she was married—she said "Yes"—I asked where—she said "St. Andrew's, Holborn"—I asked her when—she said "16th December, 1877"—I asked in what name—she said "Armstrong and Robins"—I have since searched the register of marriages at St. Andrew's, Holborn, from 1873—I found no such marriage recorded there.

Cross-examined. This conversation took place in the charge room some hours after she was charged—I am positive she said St. Andrew's, Holborn—there were three or four other persons present; the other sergeants who are here—I have not got the jemmy here; it is not the usual sort of thing that burglars have.

DANIEL MORGAN (Re-examined). I heard the conversation with Mrs. Armstrong as to where she was married—I made a note of it at the time from her dictation—this is it: "16th December, 1877, St. Andrew's, Holborn"—she saw me write it down at the time—she was told at the time that inquiry would be made at the church.

WILLIAM MILLER (Police Sergeant G). On 6th January I was with the other officers watching the house in Bowling Green Lane—I subsequently went with Stevens into the house and found the woman in bed—I told her I had come to take her into custody concerning a burglary at Kilburn, where some notes were traced to her when she was living in Dudley Street—she said "You have made a mistake; go out of my room"—I helped to search the room—I found a parcel by the side of the bed; I took it to the window, untied it, and said to Stevens in her hearing "These are some dresses that have been stolen from Westbourne Park," and I said to her "What account do you give of them?"—she said "There is another behind the door, one in the drawer, and some more by the side of the bed; a woman brought them last night, and asked me to mind them till this morning, as she was lame, and could not carry them home"—I said "What is her name?"—she said "I don't know her name"—I said "Where does she live?"—she said "I don't know, but she is to be found in St. Martin's Lane"—a large black leather bag like a brief bag was found in the room; it had nothing in it but dirty clothes—I searched the stable and found a horse's nose-bag; there was nothing in it—in a cupboard in the stable I found this dark lantern—the jemmy was in a box in the room and the keys. Henry Ward. I live with my parents, at 36, Bowling Green Lane—I am a bill-poster—the prisoners have been living in the same house about five or six months—they occupied one room, the front parlour—I saw them on Saturday evening, 3rd January, about 6 o'clock, at the stable—Mrs. Armstrong was up in the cart and Mr. Armstrong was locking the stable—he got up in the cart and they drove away together—I did not see them again that evening.

EVANS ROLFE (Policeman GR 20). On 6th January I was on duty as gaoler at King's Cross Road Police-station—the prisoners were handed over to my charge—they were placed in separate cells, with two cells between

them—I heard the male prisoner say "Keep quiet, Kelly, it will be all right with you; we will try and get you bailed, or get you off altogether; if we do get you off be sure and remove the goods at once."

Cross-examined. I was in the cell passage, keeping a strict observation upon them, as I was told it was a very serious charge—being gaoler I did not lose sight of the doors—I made a note of the words at the time; I have not got it here—I copied it afterwards—I did not keep the original.

HENRY WARD (Re-examined). I don't know whether the furniture in their room belonged to them.

Witnesses for the Defence.

JOHN HENRY GLASGOW . I am a labourer, and live at 2, Bath Row, Great Bath Street, Clerkenwell—I heard of the prisoners being taken into custody on 7th January—I remember the Saturday night before that, it was the 3rd—I saw the male prisoner that night between 6 and 7 o'clock going across Woodford Street driving his horse and trap—the female prisoner was with him—I asked him where he was going—he replied "I shall see you by and by; I am going for some food for the horse," and away they went—I saw him afterwards that night at the Horse Shoe and Magpie public-house at the corner of Bath Row about 8.30 o'clock—both the prisoners were there, and a child in the female's arms—I had not been there long before I asked the prisoner if he had a watch key on him, as my watch had stopped, and he took the key and wound up this very watch that I have in my pocket—it was 9 o'clock then, and I had been there some time—they were there when I went in at 8.30 o'clock—I stopped there till 12 o'clock, till the house was closed—the prisoners were there the whole of the time I was there—I did not see them outside afterwards—I bade them good night and went upstairs—my house was next door—I went to the police-court to give evidence, but was not called—I could mention the names of porsons who were there—I asked them to come, but they would not—Mr. King was there; he has not been here this week.

Cross-examined. The Horse and Magpie is not a second's walk from Bowling Green Lane, only like across the road—I did not see the horse and cart at the Magpie—I did not see it after between 6 and 7 o'clock, nor before—I had not seen the prisoner more than about six times since he left the job where I was at work, at the New Law Courts about 2 years ago—I remember this Saturday night quite well, it was the first Saturday in the new year—I went to the police-court once; I don't know whether it was the first or second time, it was on the remand—the prisoners asked me to come and speak for them, being in their company—they sent word out by the' prisoner's brother—he asked ray name, and I told him—I went to the police-court on the Wednesday; King did not go; he had the same opportunity of seeing the prisoner that I had—I had been there half an hour when I asked the prisoner about the watch—I do not know that the prosecutor's servant has sworn that the place was safe at 8.3ft o'clock—the prisoner had never wound up my watch before.

By the COURT. I could not swear whether the baby was with them in the cart; I could not catch sight enough—I halloed after him "Armstrong, where are you off to?"—I had nothing to do with wanting to know where he was going more than any working man does stop his mates—he was not a friend of mine—I was never in their house.

MARTHA ANN GLASGOW . I was told that the prisoners were taken into

custody on Saturday night—before I heard of it I was in their company—it was the 3rd January, the first Saturday in the new year—I know that New Year's Day was on the Thursday—I first saw them at 9 o'clock, when I went into the Horse Shoe and Magpie with my husband—I stayed there till the house closed, about 12 o'clock—I was in their company—we Went out together and bade each other good night and Wished them a happy new year and they wished us the same.

Cross-examined. I did not go to the police-court; my husband did—I was not called on—I was at work; I could have gone if I had been fetched; I was at home doing for my children—I have not known the prisoners very long; I don't believe it is six months—I became acquainted with them by being in company With my husband; I Very seldom saw them—I went into the public-house as usual—We always go there on a Saturday night; I don't generally remain till 12 o'clock, but meeting all together we stopped there—I have three children; I had my baby with me—the female prisoner had her baby with her.

By the COURT. I don't know what the prisoners are—I never had a chat with the female prisoner; I was never in her company so long as I was that night—I had no conversation with them; we had nothing to talk about—we did not talk about our babies.

HENRY WARD (Re-examined). They had no baby with them in the cart—a sister of Mrs. Armstrong's was in the parlour, and one or two more—the baby was there.

CHARLES AMBROSE— GUILTY .— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.

ELLEN AMBROSE— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Friday, February 13th, 1880.

Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-225
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

225. JOHN COAKLEY (20) and JAMES JONES (46) , Unlawfully conspiring to obtain for Coakley an appointment as barman. Other counts for conspiracy.

MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended.

JOSEPH MAYLIN . I am manager to Henry Puzey, who keeps the White Hart, High Street, Poplar—I advertised in the Morning Advertiser, and Coakley came to me on the morning of 8th January for the situation, and said that he was traveller for Mr. Jones, a master tailor, and that he was leaving because trade was so bad and he was only earning 3s. a week, and that he had lived with Mr. Jones four years; that he had ho idea of my business, but had talked to the potman across the wall, and thought that gave him a good insight; that he had neither father, mother, sister, or brother—I went the same evening with Mr. Luck to Mr. Jones, and asked if a man named Coakley was living with him—he said "He has been in my service four years"—I said "He has applied to me for a situation as potman and barman," and asked whether he had been in the trade before—he said "No"—I said "What has he been with you?" he said "He was traveller, but trade is so bad just now that he has got irons on the fire to go ironing himself"—I said "Is he an orphan?" he said "Yes"—Mr. Luck was standing outside the door, and when I went out I said "He has never been in the trade before 1" Jones said "No, but he is strictly honest, and I will vouch for his honesty, because I have trusted him with 20l. or 30l.

to go to the City for goods, and he has brought the goods"—Mr. Luck aid that no doubt the principal thing at a public-house was honesty, and if I taught him his trade no doubt he would do well, and have a good place—Jones heard that, and said that he thought he would be a good, persevering lad—Coakley came next morning—I told him I had been for his reference, and asked him what money he had had with Mr. Jones—he said 12s. a week and board and lodging—I agreed to give him 10s. and board and lodging and teach him the trade—he came on 10th January, and was taken in custody on 22nd—I did not hear him asked on 17th if a person there was his brother, nor did I know that he was a relation of Jones—had I thought he had been in the trade before I should not have gone to Jones for his character; I should have gone to a licensed victualler.

Cross-examined. He said "I have a fancy for going into the public line"—I said to Jones "I suppose when I have taught him his business you will want him back again?"

WILLIAM LUCK . I am a ship's scraper, of 4, Sidney Place, Poplar—on the evening of 8th January I went with Mr. Maylin to Jones's house—I waited outside, and when he came out I heard him ask Jones "Has he ever been in the trade before?" he said "No, but he has a great liking for it; he is a very honest lad, and I can thoroughly recommend him"—I joined in the conversation, and said "That is the great thing in the public trade, honesty, and he will find in Mr. Maylin a good master and a good place"—Maylin said "I suppose when we have taught him the business you will be wanting to take him back again?"—he said "No"—I was at Mr. Maylin's on Saturday, 17th January, when Coakley was serving behind the bar, and asked him if his brother had been to see him that day—I did so because there was a lad outside the door who bore a great resemblance to him; he said, "No, he has neither father, mother, brother, or sister." (A certificate of the marriage of James Jones and Ellen Coakley was here put in.)

Cross-examined. When Maylin was leaving Jones said "He likes the public line best."

AUGUSTUS GILL DICKERSON . I am foreman to Adkins and Son, tobacco manufacturers, of High Street, Aldgate—on 27th July, 1877, Coakley, who was an apprentice there, left, and his indentures were cancelled—I paid him on that day—the address on his indentures was some street leading into Cannon Street, Commercial Road.

ELLEN BACON . My husband keeps the King's Arms, Commercial Road. East—Coakley was his potman for six weeks or two months over two years ago—he was very impudent, and was dismissed.

THOMAS BELL NORTON . I keep the King and Queen, Tate Street, St. George's-in-the-East, two doors from Jones's house—I took the house on 2nd December, 1878, and on 16th December I took Coakley as potman and barman, as he asked for the situation and gave his name as Jones—I knew that he was living with Mr. Jones—he was with me seven weeks, and went to work as if he knew the trade—he said that he had been used to the business—I afterwards discharged him—Jones came to my house as a customer while he was there and afterwards—Coakley did not give me notice, I discharged him—a month or two afterwards Jones asked me if I could get his boy something to do—I said "Well, if he was my son 1 would not have him at home"—he said "He is not my son, he is my step" son"—until then I did not know that his name was not Jones.

WILLIAM CLARK . I keep the George, in Glengall Road—Coakley was in my service as barman from 4th May to 7th June, 1879, in the name of John Coakley—he referred me to Mr. Norton, 5, St. Mary Street, Cannon Street—I gave him a week's money instead of notice, and dismissed him—I did not see Jones while he was there, but he came after Coakley left, and asked to see his son—I asked him who his son was—he said "Coakley," and that he was making him a new suit of clothes, and asked if I would take him back—I said No, I had seen enough of him, and did not want to see him any more—Mrs. Hillier came to me afterwards. John Hillier. I keep the Eagle Distillery, Wellclose Square—I engaged Coakley as potman and barman in July, 1879—he was with me 14 weeks—I do not know Jones.

JAMES HARVEY (Police Sergeant K 46). On 22nd January I went with Clark to Mr. Martin's; we were in plain clothes—I told Coakley who we were, and that we should arrest him on a warrant signed that day for conspiring with Jones and obtaining a situation—he said "I am very sorry for it," that he was employed about nine months since by Mr. Clark, but had not been in a situation since—I took Jones an hour later at his house, and asked him if he knew a man named Coakley—he said "Yes; he is barman at the White Hart, High Street, Poplar"—I said "He is in custody, and you will be charged with conspiring to give him a character"—he said "I have known him four years, and only gave him the same character as I should under similar circumstances to any one else, and I have trusted him with money and property"—I did not know that there was any relationship.

Cross-examined. The boy said "I am very sorry; I wanted to obtain a situation."

GUILTY .— Five Days' Imprisonment each.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-226
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

226. WILLIAM BOURKE (36) , Robbery with other persons on Edward Robert Poole, and stealing his watch and chain.

MR. HURRELL Prosecuted.

EDWARD ROBERT POOLE . I am cellarman at 89, Bishopsgate Street—on Saturday, 3rd January, between 6 and 7 p.m., I was walking up Holborn with my hands in my coat pockets, and saw the prisoner and another man, who put his foot out and tripped me up—I fell, and he immediately snatched my watch from my waistcoat pocket, leaving the chain hanging—the prisoner came up and said, "You are hurt, old man," and began to lift me up, and when I was nearly in an upright position he gave me a blow in the stomach, snatched my chain, and ran down Newton Street—I followed him to the bottom, and lost sight of him—I went to Bow Street, got a detective, went home and changed my clothes—we then went to different places, and at last to the Princess Louise, in Holborn, between 7 and 8 o'clock, where I saw the prisoner among 20 or 30 others, and gave him in custody—I am sure he is the man; a lamp shone on his face—I was perfectly sober.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. No one was passing—the public-house is two doors from where I was robbed—I called the detective out, leaving you there—you had no opportunity of running away.

GEORGE WHEATLEY (Detective Officer). On 3rd January, Poole came to the station—I advised him to go and change his clothes to alter his

appearance—we then went to the Princess Louise public-house—he beckoned me out and told me something—we went in—he pointed the prisoner out and I took him in custody—there were 20 or 30 people there—I told him the charge—he said, "All right, let me drink my beer first."

Prisoner's Defence. I saw the detective and the prosecutor come in and go, but I stopped there, and they came in and charged me. I know nothing of the robbery, and never saw the man before. If I had done it I should not have gone to a public-house close to the spot and stopped there after he looked at me. I am not the man.


He was further charged with a previous conviction at Clerkenwell, in February, 1868, to which he PLEADED GUITLYT**— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-227
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

Related Material

227. EDWIN UPSHALL (33) and THOMAS SHAW (37) , Unlawfully obtaining a situation by a false character. Other Counts for unlawfully obtaining wine by false pretences.

MESSRS. BESLEY and GILL Prosecuted; MR. MEAD defended Upshall.

JOHN AIRD . I live at 14, Hyde Park Terrace—I advertised in the Times for a butler in September, and received this letter. (Dated September 12, 1879, and signed Edward Upshall., applying for the situation, and slating that he had been four years in the service of Mr. H. Sly, in Somersetshire, who was going to the United States.) My secretary answered that letter, and Up shall called at my office in Great George Street, Westminster—he said that he was leaving Mr. Sly with great regret, and he believed Mr. Sly was parting with him with a similar feeling, but had lost money, and was obliged to go abroad; that he had been there four years, and his wife with him—he left me to arrange an appointment with Mr. Sly, and called a few days afterwards and said that Mr. Sly had gone to the Isle of Wight, and suggested my going there to see him—I said that I could not do so, but would write to Mr. Sly, and he gave me his address at the Crab and Lobster Hotel, Ventnor—I wrote there to Mr. Sly, and received this letter in four or live days: "Mr. Sly presents his compliments to Mr. Aird, and in reply to his letter has to state that Up shall was in his service as butler and valet for nearly four years, during which time he found him perfectly honest, sober, and clean, and up to his duties. He is obliging and willing to work, and leaves me, as I am going abroad. Crab and Lobster, Ventnor, 23rd September, 1879. Up shall left me on 6th September last." On the faith of that letter I engaged him, about 30th September,. as butler at 80l. year—I paid his wages quarterly, and his book for petty cash once a fortnight—tradesmen's bills were always paid by cheque sent by post—on 12th October I paid him 4l. 12s. 3d., and on 15th October there was about 7s. due to him—he remained in my service till 24th December, when I discharged him, with a month's wages, telling him that I should remain in the house till he left—I have never dealt with Aplin and Co. for wine, or authorised him to order any there—I never heard of it till some time after he left.

EMILY CASS . I keep the Crab and Lobster at Ventnor—in September last I received a letter, which I have destroyed, purporting to come from Mr. Sly, ordering a good bedroom to be prepared for him, and saying that he was recommended there by a man named Upshall—a few days later I got another letter, which is destroyed, stating that his visit must be delayed for a few days, and asking me to forward letters, and a few hours afterwards

received a telegram saying if I had not forwarded the letters would I please do so—I dispatched some letters by the next post—I do not know the prisoners.

LIONE DAVIS . I am secretary to Mr. Sassoon, of Ashby Park—Upshall was in Mrs. Sassoon's employ till January, 1879—he had a month's notice, bat was dismissed before the month was up.

ALGRED CHARLES ORCHARD . I am a jeweller, of 69, South Audley Street—on 14th October Upshall came there and saw my assistant, and next day I took some watches and chains, which he had selected, to 14, Hyde Park Terrace, and showed them to Upshall—he selected a watch and chain at 26l. 10s., and asked me the lowest cash price—I said that I would take 25l.—he said that he was butler to Mr. Aird, whom he had been with 17 months, and who owed him 200l., which would be settled immediately he sent in his book—I believed his statement, and left the chain with him, taking the watch to put it in repair—I saw him by appointment the next Friday evening, when he excused himself by saying that he was very busy, as Mr. Aird was at dinner, but if I would call next morning he would pay me 13l. or 14l. when Mr. Aird had settled his book—on the faith of that I left the watch—I called again two or three times, but he always said that he had not had time to send in his book to Mr. Aird—I have never been paid anything—this is the watch (produced).

Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. My name is on it—the prisoner was introduced to me by a man named Cox, whom I have seen downstairs—Cox did not say that he had not been in Mr. Sly's service long—I did not ask Upshall to introduce Mr. Aird's work to me, and that I would then let him have the watch for 18l.—I have sued the prisoner for the price of the watch and the action was being carried on up to the time he was taken in custody—I will swear that he said his master owed him 200l.—I thought it a probable story, and it induced me to trust him—I do not know that he was arrested for debt, and was obliged to pawn the watch to get released; this is the first I have heard of it—I know now that the Sheriffs Officer had to execute the warrant—I did not mention credit.

Re-examined. Cox was not present when he had the watch—a butler having 200l. depends on whether he pays the tradespeople.

MORRIS LEVY . I am an officer of the Sheriff of Middlesex—I had an order to arrest the prisoner, but did not take him myself, he was brought to my office under arrest on 26th November—I do not know the origin of the debt, but it was 46l.—he begged me to release him, and said he would pay the money in a few days—I said that I could not—he said that he had a watch and chain in his pocket worth 26l. 10s.—I said "If you like to go and see if you can get 26l. 10s. on it, do so"—it was sent to a pawnbroker, and a message was brought back that the pawnbroker would lend 6l. or 7l. on it—he had 4l. in his pocket, which he gave me, and left me the watch and chain, which I produce, and gave me a bill for the balance of the amount, which was to be met within a few days, and the watch and chain returned to him—T then let him go—part of the bill was paid within a few days—I received from him altogether 20l. out of the 46l.

Cross-examined. I received 16l. and 4l. and retained the watch and chain as security for the balance—I have not received two 5l. notes from another person on account of the debt.

FREDERICK CUTLER . I am clerk to Aplin and Co., wine merchants, of

3G, Bucklesbury—on 23rd December my brother introduced Upshall to me as Mr. Aird's butler—I went there to him—he said that he had the power of ordering a good deal of the wine, and that there was a great quantity consumed—he gave me an order for eighteen dozen of champagne, of three different kinds, which was to be sent next morning at 11 o'clock, as Mr. Aird would not have wine merchants' carts there late in the day—he said that he had been in the habit of having a commission from Mr. Airds tradesmen) I said "We shall not disagree about that," meaning that I should make him a present at Christmas—next morning when I got to the office Low was there, and in consequence of what he said I gave him eight bottles of champagne in a hamper to take away—I believed they were to be samples for Mr. Aird—I would not have parted with them if I had not believed his statement.

Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. I had a bottle of champagne with the prisoner at Mr. Aird's, and some claret, and I went to the Gaiety with him and had a pint of champagne—we then went back to the office—I swear positively we did not go to Anderton's Hotel—I was never there in my life—I was not censured for being drunk when I got back—I deny being drunk, but the prisoner was—it is untrue that I was put in a cab outside Anderton's Hotel drunk—the arrangement was not that I was to send him eighteen bottles of champagne as samples for his master to taste, which he was not to pay for if he gave an order—I left him in the Strand—I did not have so much to drink as he did—I had no whisky that afternoon—I was with him four hours.

Re-examined. The prisoner wrote this order on the notepaper at the house: "14, Hyde Park Terrace. Six dozen Macon, 90s.; six dozen Elroy, 76s.; six dozen Bollenger, 70s." GEORGE WILLIAM LOW. I am a gardener at 31, Cambridge Terrace, Pimlieo—I have known Upshall barely three months up to the time he left Mr. Aird's service—I saw Shaw once there when Upshall was there, but never when he was not there—on the morning of 24th December I had been at work there, and Upshall called me from the passage to his room and said, "Do you know the Poultry 1"—I said "Yes"—he gave me a half-crown, told me to take a cab and go to Aplin's, the wine merchant's, and bring eight bottles of Elroy champagne back to him—he first told me to get a dozen then he said that eight would do, and gave me a cork with the brand on it in case I should forget the name—he said that they were not to forward to six cases until he saw them in the afternoon—he gave me the name of Mr. Cutler on a printed memorandum, whom I was to ask for—I went to Aplin's got eight bottles in a hamper, took it back, and gave it to the other footmin, as the prisoner was out, but he came in and cut the string of the hamper, and said it was all right—he kept me till late that evening, when I pat to things in a box, the hamper was then in the same state as it was before—I did not know till midday next day that ho had been dismissed.

Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. He gave me Aplin's card—he did not say "I will see them about an order for six cases"—it is six weeks or two months since I was first asked to recollect the conversation—I did not unpack the wine.

Cross-examined by Shaw. I saw you at Scotland Yard on 19th January? I—you came and asked for Inspector Dowdell twice—I sent you a telega—that was the only time I saw you at Mr. Aird's.

JOHN DOWDELL (Police Inspector). On 8th January I received a warrant for Upshall's apprehension, and on the 9th found him at Mr. Aird's office, 37, St. George's Street, Westminster—I said that I was a police-officer, and had a warrant at home, and he would be charged with obtaining Mr. Aird's situation by a false character, and further with obtaining a watch and chain from Mr. Archer, of South Audley Street—he said, "Oh, then, very well, I will take it back"—I said, "You will be charged with obtaining eight bottles of wine of Mr. Aplin, a wine merchant, can you give me Mr. Sly's address?"—he said, "There is no such person as Mr. Sly; the character was written by a man named Shaw, who is always to be found about Chancery Lane," and that it was written at 6, Caroline Street, Eaton Square, where he bad previously lived, and he paid Shaw be. for writing it, and that he was a Sheriff's officer—next day I found Shaw—I said, "I believe your name is Shaw"—he said "Yes"—I said, "I believe you know a man named Upshall"—he said, "Yes, I know him, and I have done some writing for him"—I said, "Yes, I want you to copy a letter for me"—he said, "I can't do it here, but I will take it and bring it back in a few minutes"—he left me for four or five minutes, and came back and gave me this letter and said, "This is a rough copy I have made for you, but I have not put the signature. (MR. MEAD objected to any comparison of handwriting except upon the evidence of an expert.) I afterwards got a warrant, and on 19th January Shaw came up to me in the Strand and said, "Oh, Mr. Dowdell, I am the man you are looking for on that warrant"—I told him that he would be charged with writing a false character of Upshall—he said, "Well, I have done some writing for him, and I am sorry I did not put 'Copy' on it, as I did on your letter the other day," and I think he said he wrote it at Caroline Street at his request, and that he gave him 2s. 6d.—I have looked at both these letters, and in my opinion they are in the same writing.

Cross-examined by Shaw. When I met you in the Strand you told me you had been to Scotland Yard inquiring for me, and I had ascertained that Wore—you told me that it was only that morning you had read in a newspaper that there was a warrant out against you, and that you left home at 9 o'clock and were at Scotland Yard at 9.50 to give yourself up—you told me at Marlborough Street that your omitting to put "copy" on the letter was the reason of your standing there—the letter I gave you to copy was in the name of Dalrymple—you did not sign it—you said that it was a strange thing to send a man five miles to make a copy of a testimonial—you asked me for Upshall's address and I told you.

Re-examined. This is General Dalrymple's letter: "Edward Upshall lived as butler and valet in my service between two and three year. He is a very good servant, honest and sober, and thoroughly acquainted with his duties, and left me for no fault." (Not signed.)

Shaw in his defence stated that he became acquainted with Upshall by his coming to him at the corner of Serjeants' Inn, where he stood as a process server, and asked him to find out the name of a Sheriff's officer with whom he had deposited a watch as security for a debt; that he did so, and afterwards copied some testimonials for him, and an extract from a bill of sale; that he afterwards received a telegram from Upshall, from Hyde Park Terras, in consequence of which he went tliere, and Upshall told him that he had been served with a writ and could not find time to enter an appearand, and gave him 2s. for a stamp and 2s. for his expenses, and as had him to inter an

appearance for him, which he did, and heard nothing more about it till Inspector Dowdell spoke to him and asked him to copy General Dalrymple's letter, and that he should not have got into trouble if he had put the word "Copy" on the copy he made; as having been connected with the law 20 years he should not have thought of writing a character for a man who he had only seen five times, and that Upshall had asked his forgiveness for placing him in the position in which he now stood—Shaw received a good character, and Upshall stated that Shaw was perfectly innocent, being only employed by him as a writer, for which he received 6s.

UPSHALL— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

SHAW— GUILTY .— Five Days' Imprisonment.

THIRD COURT.—Friday, February 13th, 1880.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-228
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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228. CHARLES WILLIAM STEWART (34) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 6l. 19s. 6d., having been convicted for felony. Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-229
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

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229. JOSEPH PRETTY (35) , Feloniously forging and uttering a request for the delivery of certain clothing.


WILLIAM ASHBY . I am a clothier, at 138, Salmon's Lane, Limehouse—on the 22nd January, about 1.30, the prisoner brought this bill to my shop: "January 22,1880. Sir,—Having just shipped the bearer, will you kindly supply him with a few articles of clothing, but not to exceed two pounds' worth.—Yours, Mr. James Collins, Captain of the Juan, of Exeter, lying in the Regent's Canal I send bill by the bearer, John Harris. I will call by 2 o'clock and settle it myself." I did not know the captain referred to nor the prisoner—I sorted goods out to the value of 2l., and the prisoner left the shop—I believed it to be bond fide, signed by the captain of the Juan—a little after 6 p.m. the prisoner called again—he asked me if I had seen the captain—I replied "No"—he said he had seen him half an hour previously, and he had given him half a crown and sent him down for the goods—I asked him where the captain was, and he said he had gone on board again, and he agreed to go with me down to see the captain—he went with me to the Regent's Canal Dock, Limehouse—he there pointed out a ship to me lying in the middle of the stream—I asked him why he did not try to make him hear—he said he had been humbugged quite enough, and then remained there in some silence—seeing that I could not get on board I returned home—the prisoner followed me—in the Commercial Road he said "It is no use carrying this on further; there is no such a ship, there is no such a captain; I have done this with the idea of getting a few togs, which I thought you would let me have," and I told him I thought I ought to give him into custody—he said he had written the bill himself—he followed me to my shop and stood outside—I told him I could not have him standing there—he said "If you won't give me the goods give me the half-crown which I paid you as a deposit"—he had not paid half a crown—as he would not go away I gave him into custody.

Cross-examined. I did not ask for 3s. 9d. nor receive 2s. 6d. from you to put the goods on one side.

HENRY EDWARD BRAINE . I am dock master of the Regent's Canal Dock—the Juan of Exeter was not in the dock on the 22nd January—I know the vessel quite well—she was last in the dock on 26th October, 1879, and left on November 3, 1879—the captain's name is Rogers—I do not know anybody named Collins on the vessel—I do not recollect having seen the prisoner before.

JOHN McCARTHY . I took the prisoner into custody and charged him with trying to obtain goods on false pretences—the prosecutor handed me this bill—I said to the prisoner "Are you sure the captain wrote it 1?"—he said "I did not see him write it, but he gave it to me"—I asked him to go to the Regent's Canal Dock with me to see the captain—he said "No, I have been there twice before and did not see him"—when I told him the charge he said "I did not do no such thing"—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. I was in the shop some five minutes before you were given into custody—I heard you ask for the half-crown—I did not hear you ask for the clothing.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am innocent I own to taking the note, but I did not know but what it was genuine."

(The prisoner in defence added that he had been drinking, when a shipmate asked him to get the clothes, and he deposited half a crown on them. and when he asked for that back he was given into custody. He never thought of asking for the things, but being asked for the ship he pointed to one lying in the stream.)

GUILTY * of uttering.— Six Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-230
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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230. JAMES MANNING (25) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Nathaniel Nathan, and stealing two pairs of trousers, a coat, a waistcoat, and three yards of cloth.

MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.

NATHANIEL NATHAN . I am a tailor, of 8, High Street, Shoreditch—my shop was broken into at 1 a.m. on the 29th of January—I fastened up the window securely about 9 o'clock the previous night—the window was unbroken—I went into the back parlour—at 11.45 I went to turn the gas a little higher, it being a foggy night—I then went to bed—I was aroused by a constable at 1 o'clock—when I came down there were two or three constables at the shop window and a young girl—the window was completely smashed—it is a large plate of glass 8 feet 8 inches by 8 feet 10 inches—I missed three pairs of trousers, an overcoat, a length of cloth, a pair of trousers and vest, all articles which I had left in the window—I next saw these goods at the station—it is a portion of my property—there are railings 6 inches in front of the window, about 3 feet 3 inches high from the pavement.

SARAH ANN TRIMMER . On the 28th January I was in Shoreditch, about 12.40, near Mr. Nathan's shop—I heard a smash—when I got a little farther I picked up a canvas bag—I took it towards a lamp to see what was on it, and before I could see it there was any name I had a blow in the face—I put my hand up and found my tie smothered with blood—I halloaed for a policeman—when I looked round the prisoner was standing behind me—I saw three men at the windows as I went past, and then I

saw one of the others—I saw the littlest of the three taking the things out of the window and giving them to the other, who stood by—I called "Police!"—I then saw three men go down the next turning to Mr. Nathan's shop—the blood on my face came from the prisoner's hands—I next saw the prisoner when I picked him out from eight or nine men at the police-court—I have no doubt he is the man.

JAMES HORNIGOLD (Policeman H 124). I was on duty on this night—I took the prisoner into custody in a lodging-house in North Keate Street, Spitalfields—I said, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with two other men in breaking a plate glass window and abstracting goods to the value of 5l."—he made no reply—I then saw the last witness—she was taken to the station and picked out the prisoner—the railings would allow a person to put an arm through the broken glass and take the things.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I got information of this robbery shortly after 2 o'clock, and went to the lodging-house at 3 the same morning.

HENRY IMHOFF (Policeman H 211). I was with the last witness—I first saw the prisoner in Thrawl Street with two more men—he said, "What are you after?" I said, "Nothing"—I walked down George Street, and the prisoner and two other men followed us—the prisoner also said "good night"—the other constable left me—when we got to the station some information wad given us, and a description of some men—we went back to 12, Lower Keate Street—we apprehended the prisoner—I examined his hands at the station and found them bloody—his handkerchief was also stained with blood—he had a coat on—I saw him identified by Trimraer—he said, "I am lagged now, and I will take 7 bleeding years for my chance;" then, pointing to Trimmer, "As for you, you b——sore-eyed cow, I will do for you when I come out if I get lagged for it again."

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. When I saw you talking to two other men in Thrawl Street it was a little after 2 o'clock—our time to go off duty was 2 o'clock—then we were sent out again.

Re-examined. The trousers were picked up at 5 a.m.—two men dropped them about 200 yards from Mr. Nathan's shop and ran off on seeing the constable.

NATHANIEL NATHEN (Recalled). It was about a quarter to 2 when I got to the station—these trousers were hanging on a brass bar in the window—I have no shutters—the goods can be seen.

GUILTY **.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

OLD COURT.—Saturday, February 14th, 1880.

Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-231
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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231. JAMES BOX, Unlawfully publishing a libel of and concerning Wickham George Nicholl.


JOSEH BUTLAND . I am a member of the firm of Foster, Butland, and Co., tailors, No. 186, Great Portland Street—on 29th December the prisoner into the shop and said, "Mr. Nicholl has robbed you of the goodwill of the business; he is a scamp and a blackguard"—I asked him what he meant by it—he said, "It is quite true, and you can have it in black and white'—I said "I should like to have it in black and white"—he said, "If you write down at my dictation you can have it," and I then wrote this at his dictation,

and he signed it said it was quite true. (Read: "Mr. Box says that Mr. Nicholl has robbed Foster, Butland, and Co. of the goodwill of 186, Great Portland Street. J. Box.") I afterwards sent that to Mr. Nicholl—I have known him some time—he is a solicitor, a member of the firm of Nicholl and Sharp, of Great Portland Street and King William Street, City—he acted for me in the purchase of the business—we bought the goodwill as well—there is no truth in the allegation that Mr. Nicholl has robbed us of the goodwill of the business—I wanted to find out whether it was so or not if anybody has robbed us of the goodwill I should say it was the prisoner—he said he had been round to all his customers and told them it was made nothing but a slop-shop now, and told them not to come there and buy any goods whatever.

Cross-examined. He did not say, "How are you getting on!" nor did I say, "Pretty well; but I don't see many of your customers here"—he did not say, "You must thank Mr. Nicholl for not giving us an opportunity of seeing you before you bought the business"—the business was bought for 125l.—I have heard that Mr. Box and Mr. Nicholl have had disputes, and at Mr. Box has complained that Mr. Nicholl had only accounted to him for 9l. of the purchase money—we bought the business of Box for 125l.—I was not disappointed at the result; I made no complaint about the goodwill the prisoner said we had been robbed of it, and I wanted to find out if had been, or if there was any more business—he said Mr. Nicholl had advised him not to introduce his customers to us—I did not say to him, "We have bought the goodwill of your business and we ought to have it"—he did not say, "If Nicholl has robbed you of your goodwill don't blame me"—I not write another paper before this one and tear it up and put it in the fire—as the prisoner refused to sign it this paper was not signed for the purpose of being shown to my partner—the prisoner did not say so—I did not ask him to give me something to show to my partner—I said to the prisoner, "You would not say this if a third person was here"—Mr. Nicholl acted for both parties in the purchase.

GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— To enter into recognisances and find a surety to appear and receive judgment if catted upon.

NEW COURT.—Saturday, February 14th, 1880.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-232
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown

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232. HENRY COLLINS (35) and GEORGE KILLICK (25) , Unlawfully obtaining 350l. by false pretences. Other Counts for conspiracy, to which



GEORGE KILLICK (The Prisoner). I am 25 years old—I was working with my father at Brooker's Farm, at Stonewall, near Edenbridge, Kent—I left him just before Christmas—he has a machine of Clayton's; he goes round the country with it; I used to drive the engine—I have known Collins ever since I could run alone—he is a fanner and landowner—he had the Old Bannister Farm, and Mr. Diver holds a farm tinder him, and I hired one under him of about 35 acres last Michaelmas—I called that Bannister Bank Farm—there are some sheds and barns on it—I had no machine of my own, only the one of my father's, which I worked with—about 28th November I applied to the National Deposit Bank, Covent

Garden for a loan, in consequence of an advertisement in a newspaper—I first wrote to the manager, Mr. Thompson—I saw Collins when I hired the farm, and told him I had no money to stock it with—I dare say I had got 6 1/2 d., but I had got no pounds—I ask him if he would go up to the bank with me—he said he would, but he would not be no security, and would not put his hand to anything—I showed him the letter I received from the bank, and we went up to London—he paid for my train—we saw Mr. Cochrane, and I said "I have brought up this friend, who is my landlord"—I then asked Collins whether he had let me the farm, and he said "Yes, Bannister Bank Farm"—I told him I had got a machine and engine working, and I dare say he could have that for security, but no horses and nothing else—he said he would send a man down to inspect the engine—this is my signature, but there wornt so much wrote upon that when I signed it: I can tell you that—this is the letter I received from the bank. (This was addressed to Messrs. Killick and Killick, declining to advance the money upon the machinery, but offering to do so upon the security of two responsible householders for two years, to be repaid by quarterly payments.) I don't know who signed George Killick to this letter produced; it is not my signature; it is no use bringing it to me; my name is at the bottom of it, but I did not write the letter; the signature is mine, another young man wrote the letter—his name is John Harris, he lives at Maidstone—nobody but ourselves was present—I told them at the bank that we had one machine—I did not tell them that we had a quantity—I read the letter to Collins, not this one, but that one, which is dirty, by the side of you. (This stated that the engines and machines were all there, giving the numbers of several engines and elevators, and stating that four of them had no numbers.) I took that to the bank when I went with Collins—Mr. Cochrane asked me what we had got—I said that we had got a traction engine—he said "I will send a man down"—I had told Collins I wanted to borrow 35l.—I wrote this letter produced—I did not show it to Collins, he never saw it. (Read: "Sir,—I have nothing to do with my brother now, he has paid me my part") I produced that at the bank, but not when Collins was there; it was the one which is dirty that I produced at the bank—all that Collins said at the bank was that he would not distrain on the engines for no rent—the manager asked him whether I had got the engines mentioned in this list, and he said "Yes"—the manager said that he wanted my brother's receipt—I said "I will very soon get it for you,' and I afterwards took up a receipt—Collins knew my brother—my brother never had no machines; he does not live in the same place—he Uvea four or five miles off—this was written by John Harris; I asked him to write it; it says: "George Killick paid William Killick his part belonging to him. Settled November 5, 1879"—I did not show that to Collins; he never saw it; what has it to do with Collins 1—he said "Has your brother got anything to do with it now?"—I said "No, he don't work for me"—he said "You can get his receipt then"—I said "Yes," and he asked my brother one day whether he had anything to do with it, and he said "No".

Cross-examined. This (produced) is the advertisement I saw in the newspapers—the arrangement made with Mr. Cochrane was for 350l. for five years, and I was to pay 500l.—they sent a man down, but he never went to seen the machines; he did not come farther than Marsh Green, Edenbridge—I had to pay 3l. 17s. 6d. for his coming down—Collins has one farm and lets one to Dibble and one to me.

ALEXANDER SERJEANT COCHRANE . I am one of the directors of the National Mercantile Bank, Covent Garden, which is registered as a limited company—this letter of December 2nd is my writing—I had seen Killick when he called previously, but had no conversation with him—he came again with Collins on the 12th, and brought my letter; he said "I have come up about the loan; I am unable to find sureties to guarantee the repayment of the money, but I have brought my landlord, Mr. Collins, who has let me a farm of 400 acres, and he can speak to my respectability, and also will tell you that the machines are my own"—I said "I require the receipts for the machines"—he said "I have no receipts, but the machines were left to me and my brother by my father, who died three years ago; since I applied for the loan I have paid my brother's share out that he has in the business, amounting to 400l., and I should feel obliged if you will lend me 350l. on the machinery and other effects that I have—I said to Collins "Is this correct?"—he said "Killick's father died three years ago, and I know the machines belonged to Killick, and to my knowledge he paid his brother 400l., the half share of the business, and I am willing to be answerable that I shall not distrain on any of the machines for rent on the farm that I have let him, or on any other farms I have adjoining there; I have let Mr. Killick a farm of 400 acres; I have known him ever since he was a baby, and I wish to assist him"—with that information, and partly at Collins's dictation, I wrote this undertaking, and he signed it—I said "I shall not grant the loan to-day, for I require the brother's receipt for the 400l. he received, also a letter from the brother stating that he has no further claim on the machinery"—Collins said "We must go and get the letter and the receipt which you require," and that Killick was to bring up an inventory of the machines, together with the numbers—on 18th December Killick came by himself and brought this inventory and a letter from his brother and the receipt—I asked him to make a statutory declaration, and he made it before Mr. Irving, and he also executed a bill of sale—350l. was handed to him in bank notes and he went away—we have not received any of the money; it is not due yet—we have not received the interest.

Cross-examined. I have prosecuted about four times, but have only convicted once, the other cases never came on for trial—they were not settled, they satisfied Mr. Besley, our standing counsel, and that satisfied us—we brought an action in the Nottingham County Court two or three months ago—the case was lost, and I am appealing—it was not an action, it was merely a motion at the suit of Mr. Henry Isaacs, who is a shareholder in the bank—I was a witness for Isaacs—the Judge did not say, "The execution of the bill of sale has been obtained by conspiracy"—he decided that it was bad through want of consideration—Isaacs was simply the transferee, the innocent holder—the bank was registered on 23rd May, 1878—it is partly a money-lending office, but it is a registered bank, where cheques are issued—we have about 250 accounts with depositors, but hardly a dozen current accounts—there is about 30,000l. deposited—the nominal capital is 500,000l., in 10,000 50l. shares—I am the principal shareholder—I have 1,978 shares—I am not the bank—I have nothing to conceal—Isaacs has 40 shares—this is our prospectus—we discount good bills at 5l. per cent—this loan to Killick was at 20 per cent—the 3l. 17s. 6d. for the messenger to go down, was paid into the bank, and I should think the

messenger would have 2l. of the money—the man we sent down was the surveyor to the bank; we pay him 200l. a year and a commission and his expenses—his name is Taylor—he is not here, but I can send for him, (The Jury wished Taylor to be sent for.) When we take a bill of sale we do not also take a bill of exchange or a promissory note—we discount bills—I asked Collins if he was willing to become security—he said that he did not consider it necessary, and would not—he suggested a guarantee—I did not—he was the farmer out of the country—this is my writing, it is signed by him—I mean to tell the Jury that it was written partly at hit dictation—the last part is the part he dictated, that he would not distrain on the machinery if it was on any other of his farms—that was his suggestion, not mine—he signed it, and I had Mackrell in to witness it—he is the chief cashier—I did not instruct our solicitor to write to Collins and demand 500l., nor do I know that any one went down and did so—I first heard of it, I think, at the police-court—I did not know before that that Collins denied any liability—I mean to say that he was never asked for the 500l., nor was his wife—his solicitor sent me a letter, but I deny that any demand has been made for 500l. from Collins, except what is in the letter which I took to my solicitor directly I received it, and afterwards laid this information—I know that Isaacs went down to try and find Killick—I don't know whether he saw his father—Isaacs is not here, he does not attend to business on a Saturday, on religious grounds—I believe he would come if required—I believe it was Friday, and not Saturday, that he was at the police-court—he denies saying to Killick's father," If you will pay 100l., I will squash the job for you;" or "Half a loaf is better than none, and bones are no use to me;" or that if old Killick did not pay, he would put up a 10l. reward to find his son, but if he would pay 50l. he would squash the job and not proceed against him.

Re-examined. I had made no demand whatever on Collins or on Killick—I know nothing about it, I simply went down to see the machines—the repayment was to spread over two years, at 20 per cent.—this hill of sale was read over to Killick by the solicitor who prepared it, and explained to him—we do business to the amount of half a million a year—we have from 5,000 to 6,000 clients, some of whom have been with us 10 or 15 years—I lost 600l. over the matter at Nottingham; some one had given a bill of sale to another person, which he transferred to Isaacs, and the County Court Judge said it was not a legal document—Mr. Isaacs suffered the loss and has appealed—I was only a witness for him—I made inquiries at Edenbridge, in consequence of which I discharged Taylor.

GEORGE WILLIAM THOMPSON . I have been manager of the National Mercantile Bank since May, 1878; during all that time Mr. Cochrane has been one of the directors—on 28th November George Killick came, and I filled up a proposal from his dictation—I did not know him before or his firm—I wrote this: "Three traction engines, value over 1,800l"—I got that from him; I did not see Collins on that occasion.

WILLIAM KILLICK THE YOUNGER . I am the prisoner's brother—I live near Edenbridge, and am a labourer at 15l. a week for the Hon. Mr. Talbot, M.P.—I used to work for my father, he is alive and well—I have not received 400l. for part of my share in the firm—I know nothing about it—Collins has, I believe, three little farms, one he uses himself, one Diver

has, and one my brother was about to hire; whether he has hired it I don't know—I don't know the size of it—I was never there, but I should say that it was about 35 acres.

WILLIAM KILLICK . I am the prisoner's father; I have a machine which I hire from Clayton and Shuttleworth, and which I let out on hire—my son George used to work for me till just before Christmas, and I kept him—his wages should come out of the machine work—I did not know that he had talked about taking this little farm from Collins till after it was done, he had no money—Collins has three small farms, I believe, about 100 acres, to the best of my judgment—when my son was arrested Collins came to my house and asked me where my son was—I said "I don't know."

Cross-examined. Isaacs told me if I paid 100l. he would squash the job up, and would not say anything more about it—he afterwards said he would take 50l., as half a loaf was better than none, and something was said as he was going out of the door about 5l. being better than bones—he said, when I said that I had got no money, that he would put up a reward for my son's apprehension, but if I would pay 50l. he would squash the job up.

Re-examined. I paid for the machine by instalments—I have not got the account here, it seemed to me that 100l. of this 350l. went to pay my debt to Shuttleworth—I don't know what became of the other 250l.—I know nothing has been paid on my account, except that that was paid on the machine.

FREDERICK WATSON . I am clerk to Clayton and Shuttleworth, of Lincoln—we have let a machine to the elder Killick since January, 1877, one engine and a threshing machine, that is all the dealing we have had with him—we never had any dealings with George Killick—on 22nd December, 1879, 204l. 158. was owing to us from the elder Killick—it was originally 354l.; 100l. was received on 22nd December, but I did not receive it.

JOHN COCKRELL (Police Sergeant E 21). On 19th January I went to Bannister Bank Farm, near Edenbridge—there was a house on the farm and two or three little sheds, nothing more—I found Collins at work there—I had a warrant granted at Bow Street—I said "I hold a warrant for your apprehension for conspiring with George Killick to obtain 350l. by false pretences"—he said "I thought it had all blown over; I don't know anything about the money, except the 10l. which Killick paid me for the quarter's rent for the farm; I don't know anything about any more"—I took him to Bow Street and charged him—on 23rd January I went to Tonbridge Police-station, and found Killick in custody—he said "I wish to tell you all about it"—I took down what he said at the time; I said "What you say I shall write down now, and use, as evidence against you"—he said "I was about to take a farm of Collins, and I told him I wanted some more money; we had a conversation, and 600l. was the sum mentioned. Collins put me in the way of getting it, and said 'If you get the money I want 150l. to deal with.' After I had been to the bank once I told Collins I should have no more to do with it. Collins said 'Oh, go on, put down more tackle than you've got." He said that he had paid 100l. to Clayton and Shuttleworth, and the rest had been spent in going to Paris and paying odd bills.

Cross-examined. Killick had absconded.

HENRY STANFORD . I am a constable of Tonbridge—I saw a reward posted up for Killick's apprehension, in consequence of which I went to Folkestone on 21st January, and took him at the Paris Hotel, Harbour Station—I had ascertained where he lodged, 23, Beach Street; I took he there, searched him, and found on him 1l. 8s. 9l. 12d.—he said "I made of with it all"—afterwards, in the train, he said that Collins had 150l. of the money, and he said "You have come just in time; if you had come a day later I should have been over the water, I made an engagement on bowl a ship."

THOMAS DIBLE . I am anoverseer of the parish of Hythe in Kent, and carry on farming business there—on 20th December I was in the Grey hound, near Hythe—the two prisoners were there—Collins asked me to come in, and asked me to write out a receipt for 10l.—I never knew him to write—I went into the public-house to do it, and while I was writing it I asked Killick what it was for—he said it did not matter what it was for—I said "Let us have a name for it"—they said it was for a quarter of a year's rent for the Bannister Bank Farm—I did not then know that the prisoner occupied that farm; rent is sometimes paid in advance in our part of the world—I know the farm, it is about 35 acres; there is a barn and sheds on it and other buildings, but not belonging to the ground—I do not think Collins ever lived there or Killick—there is no dwelling-house on it—Collins said the rent was 10l. a quarter—I occupy about 40 acres of land of Collins, and pay him 60l. a year—my farm is called Meachland—I haw occupied it eight years.

EDWARD WILLIAM MACKRELL . I am cashier at the Mercantile Bank, Russell Street, Covent Garden—the prisoners came there in December, and had an interview with Mr. Cochrane—I was called in, and I believe they were both present when this undertaking was signed; it was read over to Collins; I saw him sign it, and I witnessed it.

JOHN ISAAC IRVING . I am a solicitor, of 30, Wellington Street, and have been in the profession 10 years—I am a commissioner for the administration of oaths—this statutory declaration was brought to me; a person named George Killick signed it, or acknowledged his signature, in bit presence—it was not read over; he was asked whether the contents were true, and he declared that they were—it was in the same state as it is now.

PETER FREDERICK TAYLOR . I am a clerk, but I decline to give the name of the gentleman to whom I am clerk—I am not in the service of the National Mercantile Bank now, but I was—this document is my writing; Killick gave it to me some day in December at Sowerby Castle, in Kent—I had gone down to see him by the direction of the Mercantile Bank for the purpose of surveying his property—I did not go to the Bannister Bank Farm; he had not got a farm—he said he had got machines, and I sent this report to my employers—that was not the place I thought I was told to go to—I was to go to Bannister Bank Farm and investigate the matter, and see if he had got the property he said he had—I saw one; engine; I don't know where, or whether it was his father's—this is my report. (This mentioned an engine value 210l., an elevator 1,200l., and other machinery value 2,500l., and the report was endorsed, "There is nothing on the farm now, and therefore I did not go to see it" and stated that he hardly considered him responsible enough for such a large loan. Signed, P. F. Taylor.) I did not see Collins—I sent that back to my employers.

Corss-examined. And in spite of that report they lent the money—I was I not sent to the farm, but to the neighbourhood—that was the result of my inquiries—I am no longer in the bank service—I was paid my salary an—I is commission, not a penny more.

Re-examined. The bank paid my travelling expenses; I cannot recollecd how much; I have been called here at a moments notice—I went down I second-class, I believe, to Edenbridge—my salary was 200l. a year, paid weekly—I surveyed an engine and other tackle with it—I believed the statement with regard to the other things.


Sentence on KILLICK.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

NEW COURT.—Monday, February 16th, 1880.

Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-233
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

233. WILLIAM HARVEY FREDERICK HARRY BAR HARRIS (55) , Unlawfully failing to discover to his trustee in Bankruptcy the sum of 2,058l., part of his personal property. Other Counts for unlawfully obtaining goods within four months of his bankruptcy.


HINBY ALFRED STACEY . I am the superintendent of records at the Bankruptcy Court—I produce two files of proceedings in defendant's matter—the first petition is dated 19th April, 1876; the. second, 14th August, 1878—on the file of the second proceedings there is a statutory statement of affairs—the total debts is stated at 2,882l. 2s. 4d., and the total assets at 1,932l. 16s. 3d.—the certificate on the file of Mr. Garrett's appointment is dated 2nd September, 1878—I do not find any deficiency account on the file—I find transcripts of the shorthand writers' notes of examinations on 1st and 8th April, 1879; an order to prosecute by Mr. Registrar Brougham, dated 9th December, 1879, under the Debtors Act, 1869.

WILLIAM VINER EDSALL . I am one of the official shorthand writers of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce my original notes of the examinations of the debtor, taken before Mr. Registrar Brougham on the 1st and 8th of April—I have examined the transcripts on the file with my notes, and they are faithful reports of the questions and answers then made.

JOHN GARRETT . I am a lapidary and dealer in precious stones, carrying on business at 20, Baker Street, Lloyd Square, Clerkenwell—I am a creditor of the defendant under the 1876 petition for 2,3217. 19s. 8d.,—a composition of 10l. in the pound was offered—I never received a farthing dividen.—under the first liquidation there was an agreement for the other creditors to be paid before me—I attended the first general meeting of creditors under the second petition—the defendant was present—I heard a statement of affairs read by Mr. Carter, accountant, in the defendant's presence—I believe the defendant was questioned—the items were called out to him—I believe he confirmed them—a composition was offered of 7. 6d. in the pound—that was not accepted—I was appointed trustee, and my appointment was duly confirmed—after my appointment I attended the defendant's residence with Mr. Wilkinson, one of the committee of inspection, the accountant, and his clerk, Mr. Garthwaite—the stock was handed over to me by Mr. Carter, and Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Clark and myself checked the stock as it was handed over to us, with an inventory of it—I gave a receipt for it—I employed Mr.

Clark to investigate the affairs—these articles were not with the stock: a large ruby and diamond ring, value from 100l. to 130l.; an emerald and diamond half hoop ring, value about 30l.; a ruby and diamond half hoop ring, worth about 40l.; a three ruby and diamond gipsy ring, worth about 1G guineas, No. 955; a sapphire and diamond gipsy ring, No. 945, value 16l. 9s. 6d.; a large emerald ring set with two diamonds, worth about 30l. a cat's-eye pin, worth about 30l.; a pair of emerald and gold solitaires with coral centres, value about 5 guineas—I purchased the ruby and two diamond ring in 1877 of Mr. Lewis Angel, of New Craven Chambers, Craven Street, Strand—I think I gave 90l. for it—it was a large made ruby with two brilliants, one set on each side, and smaller brilliants in between to fill up the spaces—this (produced) paper is as nearly as possible a facsimile of the ring—this is my drawing of the ring from memory—I sold it to tie prisoner within a few days after I bought it for 105l.—on 10th May, 1878, the prisoner returned it to me for another ring that ho had on probation, an emerald and diamond ring, value 46l.—he brought an emerald to be mounted, and the stone to be recut, which I declined to do, as he then owed me a large sum of money—he said, "Look here, Jack, that big ruby and diamond ring that I had of you my friend Thomas, of Bond Street, has still got on approval, and as soon as I sell it I shall draw for the whole on their account, and I shall make a big pull out of it; I will draw upon them and give you the whole of their acceptance"—upon that I agreed to execute the order—I had two acceptances.but not the whole—I heard the prisoner asked what had become of the ring—his answer was that he had sold it to a man named Brown, of Manchester—I recollect selling the defendant the ring No. 955, for between 16l. and 17l., on the 5th June, 1878; also 945 and 955 on the 27th of May, for between 16l. and 17l. each—the stock was placed in my iron safe at Baker Street the day I received it—it was checked on two or three occasions; first when the committee of inspection met, and since it Bow Street—it was correct according to the inventory—I have gone through the defendant's books—with the exception of the ring sold to A. Brown the articles are not accounted for—the examinations were not concluded at the Bankruptcy Court—I afterwards held an examination at my office by the direction of Mr. Registrar Brougham—I heard the defendant questioned as to an entry in his ledger to Jones, of Liverpool—the entry is March 1st, 1877, on the debit side 14l. 10s., on the credit side it is pin 4l. 10s. and cash 10l.—the defendant said it was not true that he had borrowed 10l. of Jones and Sons, of Liverpool, and that he had balanced it off with goods, but that they never had goods—ring 955 would be nearly his last purchase of me—the stone in the emerald ring I mounted for him was worth about 15l.—the ring after the mounting would realise 30l., or even 40l.—when asked about it he said he had sold it to a dealer in the North—he gave no name—he saw he did not know where he lived—I think he said he got about 70l. for it—he said he got the cat's-eye pin from a customer in Leeds—he refused to give the name—I think he said it was returned to him—an entry against the pin in the approbation book was pointed out to him—this is it: "A fine cat's-eye pin, own stock"—he said that was another pin altogether—he had sold it to the dealer in the North with the emerald ring, whose name and address he did not know—none of these alleged sales appear in the defendant's books.

Cross-examined. I have known the defendant some years, and have baa

large dealings with him in the way of trade—in 1878, when the first misfortune in business occurred, he owed me 2,300l.—I agreed not to prose him for the 10s. in the pound—the bulk of the creditors wished to make him a bankrupt and to sell up his estate—I agreed that they should be paid first—I cannot say exactly what I am seeking to remover from him an I left the matter entirely with my solicitor—there was no arrangement that I was to receive my debt in full if I waited—I do not remember his calling upon me voluntarily to give me information—I cannot remember any interviews with him—the delay occurred became when the books came into our hands they were in such an imperfect state that the accountant employed had to send in all directions for information—that is Mr. Clarke—he is on his own resoures—he is employed at my office—I made the drawing of the ring after I had examined the books—I cannot tall you whether it was before the examinations or while they were on—I first communicated with Mr. Angel about the reign in April, 1879—that is the date of the letter from him which contains Mr. Angel's drawing of it—I cannot say whether I had made my own drawing of it before that—the conversation of the 10th of May about the ruby and diamond ring took place in my office—I do not remember who was present—the other part of the conversation related to my being in difficulties, and that I could do nothing mar for him unless for cash—the defendant had the ruby and diamond ring on approbation a few days—he then purchased it outright, and gave me an defendant paid it by installments—the ring was paid for before the petition was presented on the 14th of August—the defendant had many other ruby and diamond rings from me—I do not find a creditor for the cat's eye pin—the solitaires were charged at 5 guineas to the defendant—they have since been given up to the trustee—he said his wife had them—the hoop ring is described as a ruby and diamond—I find no creditor for the diamond half hoop ring value 30l., nor the one value 40l.—the prisoner did not say he had handed Nos. 945 and 955 to Mr. Thomas on approval—he was questioned about them at my office—he said he had no recollection of them—I am sure he did not say he had sold a ring to Brown of Liverpool, it was Brown of Manchester—the entry is "A. Brown, Manchester"—he did not say the sale was effected at the Washington Hotel, Liverpool—I was present at all the examinations of the debtor—I believe he said Mr. Brown was a gentleman who was going abroad and wished to make a present to his wife, and so purchased the ring—the entry in the ledger is "February 28th, 1878. One ruby and diamond ring, 110l."—the defendant was frequently out of London on business—I cannot change my memory with his stating that his wife assisted him in the books—had the defendant said he was a bad bookkeeper I should not have believed him—I have no recollection of his doing so—I said before the Magistrate that the amount Harris was indebted to me at the commencement of the second proceedings was 2,651l. 16s.—that is made up of the whole 2,300l. that was due, and the amount since accrued—it was an error when I said I was simply proving for 10s. in the pound—my books are correct, but the amount I was untitled to was settled by the solicitation on both sides, and it is more a matter of law than for me—I really cannot answer your question as to what Harris put me down a creditor for—the last dealing with him appears to 5th June, 1878, showing 166l. of new debt—that added to 2,300l. would make the

total claim 2,466l. the debtor makes it 1,150l., being 10s. in the pound, and 166l., being altogether 1,316l. instead of 2,466l. I have not gone into it-my dealings with the defendant from beginning to end would amount to many thousands—I had no reason to complain of him up to a certain point.

Re-examined. The accountant knows more about the figures than I do—the defendant never told me what he had done with rings 945 and 955—there is no address of A. Brown in my books—the date of the entry before "A. Brown" is August 17th, 1865—the other entries on that page are all the same year—Brown's account is a solitary one—I had in many cases to correct the books by personal interviews with persons to whose accounts they related.

LEWIS ANGELL . I am a working jeweller of Craven Street, Strand—I sold Mr. Garrett a ruby and brilliant ring with small brilliants between on April 12th, 1877—I made this drawing of it (produced).

Cross-examined. I made the drawing in answer to the application of Mr. Garrett—I make a large number of valuable rings for West-end houses—I made this ring from my own design—I have made others similar to it.

Re-examined. The ruby is not a perfect stone, it is an important stone, and one which would not be seen every day—I could swear to it if I saw it—this sketch is the full size, and the weights of the stones are given—I could point out a defect in the ruby if I saw it.

SIDNEY THOMAS . I am a jeweller of Old Bond Street—I have done business with the defendant—I remember his leaving with me on approbation a ring with an oblong ruby and two small brilliants on the sides, and torn small brilliants between, exactly like this sketch—the price was 130l. I returned it on 30th May, 1878—that was the most expensive ring I hid from him—on the same day I returned with it an emerald and brilliant half-hoop price 34£—I remember his bringing me a ruby and brilliant ring, and a diamond ring value about 22l. each—I purchased the ruby and brilliant one, and returned him the other, which was a gipsy ring, three rubies and two brilliants—that was also on 30th May.

Cross-examined. I have had many dealings with him—transactions of that kind have gone on between us for four or five years—the person leaving rings with me leaves an approbation note, which is filed, and when a ring is returned an entry is made "returned approbation"—I remember giving back to Harris some cheap rings and lockets after 14th August, 1878, but I do not remember his questioning me about two rings then—he left on 27th August for the south of France—he was in the habit of taking jewellery to the Continent on approbation—I have a great many things entered on approbation, and two ruby and diamond rings among them, and a sapphire and ruby, and a sapphire and brilliant—they would answer this description—I will not pledge myself that two rings were not left by Harris, because other people in my establishment could receive goods from him—the two rings are sold which answer the same description, which we have only found out through Mr. Spire-no one has applied to me to return those rings to them—if you suggest that they were left with me by the debtor, I have no means of saying that that is not so, except that I have two rings answering the same description which are in surplus-when we settled up my father's goods, we presumed that these were on approbation, and if we were asked we should not know which they were-we have searched and can

find no approbation note—we did not keep an approbation receipt book then; we have commenced one since—we only receive rings on approbation from persons whom we have had dealings with—I do not remember returning a lady's gipsy ring to Harris that he might get a ruby and diamond ring to match it.

Re-examined. The two rings which we found in surplus stock exactly answer the description of the rings returned by us in May—they are not in stock now; they have been sold—if we were asked to take rings back after retaining them because we could not dispose of them we should do so, but not unless we had an order or had sold all our rings of that classbar dealings with Harris have been of medium value, but I believe this was the only one of the value of 130l.

WILLIAM KING . I have been in the employ of Mr. Thomas, of Old Bond Street, 12 years—I produce their return approbation book—on 16th July, 1878, I returned to the defendant a lady's ruby and diamond half-hoop ring, three brilliants and two rubies, value 40l.

(The defendants examination in bankruptcy was here put in.)

THOMAS FULLER CARTER . I am an accountant, of Gresham Buildings—I was receiver under the proceedings against the defendant in August, 1878, and prepared the statement of his affairs from the instructions of Mr. Spire, his solicitor-Harris gave me a deficiency account; it is really a statement taken down from his mouth on the morning of the meeting—I have no copy of it—I gave it to the solicitor; this is it (produced)—I heard the defendant questioned at the meeting, and he confirmed these items—I asked him to sign it, and he refused—I objected to sign it or to be responsible for it—I prepared it by his instructions by word of mouth, not from his books—I received certain of Harris's stock, which I locked up in the safe, and on 3rd February handed it to Mr. Garrett, the trustee, according to their inventory—this is his receipt for it.

Cross-examined. I did not object to this account to the defendant—I told him before the meeting that most likely the creditors would require him to give some particulars, and he gave me that—I did not analyses any of tile statements, but I can tell you about some of the items—after paying 10s. in the pound off the actual amount, 11,000l., the odd sum was allowed for my costs-Mr. Garrett told us only to put down 1,438l. because the debtor torn me Mr. Garrett would not prove for the whole amount, only for 10s. in the pound—I paid tuck and Godfrey their composition myself, excepting the list bill—there is only 10l. unpaid to them—if they are in the present account again, that is treating their debt as revived—the defendant estimates his household expenses for two and a half years at 260l. a year, but from his examination at the Bankruptcy Court 360l. would be nearer the mark that mistake is against himself—I prepared this amended deficiency account (produced), which shows about 630l. unaccounted for. (Giving the items) top fame of the stock handed over to me by the debtor was 1,385l. 14s., and the stock on approbation 152l. 9s., making a total of 1,532l. 3s. of stock available for is creditors-his daughter was married during that period, which put mm to considerable expense.

Re-examined. I did not prepare this amended account by testing the books—I did not exercise my ingenuity at all; it is a plain statement of facts—there is in it a difference in valuation of furniture in 1876 and 1873—I put that in as a credit on the deficiency account—the amount is 75l.

it was valued at 195l. in 1876, and now it is valued at 120l. that is not a loss; it is a difference in valuation-as to loss by forced sale, I do not know of any forced sale, or that any loss whatever has been sustained by the defendant.

JOHN HEARD CLARK . I am an accountant, of 20, Baker Street, Lloyd Square, and have been in business 20 years—I attended the first general meeting under the petition of August, 1878—the defendant was present a statement of affairs was passed showing a deficiency of 940l. the stock was valued at 1,385l. 14s. this is the inventory of the stock referred to it does not include the five rings and a pin, the subject of this prosecution Mr. Carter read an account of the deficiency, and I took a note at the time—there was a surplus of 900l. after paying 10s., and a deficiency on the statement of affairs of August, 1878, of 950l., which with the estimated profits on trading made a total of 2,206l. the defendant was questioned, and confirmed those accounts—he was asked to sign it, but would not because Mr. Carter, his accountant, would not—I heard him questioned as to what books he kept—he said that he kept no cash-book or stock-book, and that his bought ledger had gone behind, as he was so worried—I have been engaged some time investigating his affairs; his real deficiency between the first and second petitions was 4,212l. 14s. 2d. after giving credit for every item he claims on the credit side, a deficiency remained of 2,058l. the first deficiency in 1878 was 949l. I had considerable difficulty in going through the books, as there were no account! with creditors, and therefore the whole lists had to be verified by getting accounts from each creditor—I attended at his place of business on 3rd September, 1878-Mr. Carter was present part of the time, Mr. Wilson part of the time, his clerk part of the time, and the defendant the whole of the time—I saw the stock given up with this inventory, and checked it with Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Garrett; it agreed at that time with the inventory—I have been through it since, and it is in precisely the same condition—there was not with that stock the five rings and the pin mentioned to-day—the defendant gave up a sold ledger; a day-book, a book for ordinary approbation goods, a pocket journey book for his travels, and an approbation book—I have been through the books from time to time, and cannot find any entry of the sale or disposal of these five rings, except the 100l. ring—I have made very careful search, and have had the trustees' assistance—there is an entry in the pocket journey book of the return of the 40l. ring by Mrs. Thomas on 16th August—the prisoner had no other single ring of so great a value as 130l. I have traced that ring as left on approbation with customers from time to time, within a fortnight of his having it from Mr. Garrett, on 7th April, 1877 it was first sent to Leeds on 24th April, 1877 ', being returned from there, it was sent to Hancock's, in Bond Street, on 8th August, 1877; then to Vassal, of Scarborough. on 4th September, 1877; next to Thomas, of Bond Street, on 17th February, 1878, and returned on 30th May I was present on 23rd May 1879, when the prisoner was questioned in Mr. Garrett's office—I asked him about a debt due to Jones and Son, of Liverpool—I complained that I could not find the goods in the journal, although there was the debt in the ledger—he said he had not sent anything; it was a false entry, that he had made it shortly before he gave up the books—I heard him asked to the rings 545 and 950 he said he had no recollection of having had them

at all—him that it was a very recent purchase—he said that if Thomas of Bond Street, had had it must have been stated—there is an entry in the prisoner's journey book: "27th May, 1878, Thomas, two rings, 22l. each, one kept and one returned:" there are no numbers put—he was asked as to an emerald ring with two brilliants which Mr. Garrett had mentioned, and he said it was sold to a dealer in the north for 20l. or 25l.—he was asked the dealer's name: he said he did not know it—I asked him as to the cat's eye pin—here is an entry in the approbation book: "May as 7th, 1878, Messrs. Orton and House," among other goods, "a cat's-eye pin 30l., own stock"—before that entry was shown him he said he had sold it, he did not say to whom or from whom he had it—I then called his attention to these words "own stock"—at last he got into a muddle about it altogether, and could give no explanation, it was so long ago.

Cross-examined. In making up the deficiency account, I have not allowed anything for liquidation expenses—I cannot, because there is no entry in the books for it; he kept no cash book—the book debts turned out 22l. better than they were estimated at; they were estimated at 1,100l. they realized 1,321l. 7s. 3d.—the next item is a composition of 10s. in the pound, 1,381l., which he did not pay; that is treating the old debts as received, because he failed to pay the composition—1,160l. 19s. 10d. is the amount of the unpaid composition to Mr. Garrett—truck and Godfrey is 10l.—I don't allow for the whole of their accounts—there is a proof of J. Truck, seen for 252l., subject to revision—Miss Skelton's revived debt is 177l., the balance of her dividend; she held securities, but they were not then realized—I have been an accountant about 20 years—my office is in the same building as Mr. Garrett's—I did not hear the prisoner complain that these question had not been put to him until eight months after his bankruptcy, and that his memory had been shattered by his worries—I do not find the five rings in the stock sheet—he kept no ledger—Jones's debt is 14l. 10s.—he said that he had borrowed 10l. of Jones, and that he wished to hide him from being a creditor—there are eight or ten creditors besides that, not entered on the schedule—nearly 100 creditors are omitted—Mr. Pearce is not a creditor, he is a debtor, a customer—I found out the eight or ten creditors four or five months ago—I mentioned it to the solicitor—the prisoner never explained about the cheque for 15l. from Pearce—I only knew of it from his own accountant—the 130l. described as the same ring—I have no reason to disbelieve it—there were other ruby and diamond rings, but at less prices, 30l. and 40l.—I have not made any inquiry as to where he got the cat's-eye pin from—in the 2,054l. deficiency account which the debtor claims there is nothing about the 10s. in the pound—I have allowed him the 10s. in the pound as if it was paid, and then charged it back again because he has not paid it.

Re-examined. According to the amended deficiency account the prisoner himself shows a deficiency of 2,154l.—I charge Miss Skelton's deficiency 177l. because she has not been paid—there are three items of goods in the approbation book sent to Mr. Barrett on approbation: diamond carrings, 50 30l. that is ruled through and "own stock".

THOMAS WILKINSON . I am a manufacturing jeweller at 18, Swinton Street, Gray's Inn Road—I am one of the committee of inspection in this matter—I was present during the greater portion of 3rd September, 1878 at the prisoner's office, when the stock was handed over—I went through the stock with the inventory with the exception of the first few articles—I have been through the stock with the inventory since; I found them agree—I went through them with Mr. Clark, Mr. Tuck, and Mr. Garrett—none of the articles the subject of this charge were included in the stock given up to the trustee—I was present at the examination at Mr. Garrett's office in May, 1879—I took down a portion of the examination—he was questioned about the ring 955 bought by him on 5th June from Mr. Garrett; he said he had no recollection of having had it from Mr. Garrett; there were two rings that he had from Mr. Garrett on 31st May; he had no recollection of having had them—he was asked as to an emerald ring obtained from Mr. Garrett; he said he had sold it to a dealer in the North of England for 23l. or 24l.—he did not mention the dealer's name—he was questioned about the cat's-eye pin left with Orton and House—he said he of it for 30l. from a customer at Leeds; he declined to give his name—he was shown the entry of the pin in the approbation book, "own stock"—he said, "Oh, that is a different thing; I sold that to the dealer I sold the emerald and diamond ring to;" he at first said for about 25l., and afterwards for between 30l. and 40l.—he was asked about the entry 14l. 10s., to Jones of Liverpool—he said that was incorrect; he did not sell them any goods, but he made the entry just before he gave up his books because he did not wish them to appear as creditors; he did not wish them to prove.

Cross-examined. In my opinion only one cat's-eye pin was spoken of at that interview—I am a creditor for 53l., in fact more than that, because I am liable on a 40l. bill, an acceptance of the prisoner—I have been through his books from time to time, but not to make a thorough investigation—I have not noticed other cat's-eye pins in his book about that time—I have not noticed one from Brownhill value about 50l.—the prisoner said at the examination that his memory had been much shattered.

JOHN TUCK . I am a manufacturing jeweller in St. James's Street, Clerkenwell—I left business about four years back, but my sons carry it on—I still have an interest in it—I have had about 40 years' experience—I had been a creditor under the prisoner's previous petition—at the general meeting in 1878 I heard the prisoner questioned as to the deficiency account—he stated that such account was correct—I was appointed one of the committee of inspection—I have gone through the stock comparing it with the inventory—none of the rings, the subject of these charges, are in the stock, or anything approaching it—I heard the prisoner say that three rings worth 130l., 40l., and 30l. were left with him by a person whose name and address he did not know, for five or six months—that is not a thing common in the trade—I never heard of such a thing with a stranger.

Cross-examined. The amount of my debt under the former liquidation was somewhere about 500l.—I was one of the creditors who accepted the composition of 10s., and all but 10l. was paid—the whole of my original debt has been proved under the present liquidation—that was under the a device of my solicitor—I was in the same employment as the prisoner 15 years before 1876—I always had the highest opinion of him.

GUILTY .— Three Months' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Monday, February 16th, 1880, and seven following dags.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-234
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence; Guilty > manslaughter
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

234. LEWIS JAMES PAINE (50) and FANNY MATTHEWS (19) were indicted for the willful murder of Annie Jane Fanny Maclean. They were also charged on the Coroner's Inquisiton with the like murder.



MR. BROOKS appeared for Matthews.

No evidence being offered against Matthews, the Jury found her.

NOT GUILTY RUPERTIA WILSON . I am a widow, and lire at 85, Tavistock Crescent, Westbourne Park—Annie Jane Fanny Maclean was my niece; she was the daughter Of Colonel and Mrs. Maclean, and was 33 years of age is August last—Colonel Maclean has been dead some years—Miss Maclean was living with her mother in London, once at 40, Eastbourne Terrace, and latterly in Craven Road—they lived together in London ever since she was born, up to March last—I was in the habit of visiting them, sometimes once a week, sometimes twice a week, constantly—Miss Maclean had a spinal deformity, she could not walk very well, there was something the matter with her hip, and in consequence of the deformity she walked always lame; sometimes she walked with a stick, not latterly, she made use of her umbrella generally speaking instead of a stick—she was very short, I can't say what height she was—she did not leave London with her mother, her mother left London in March, she had taken a house at Broadway, about 12 miles from Worcester, called the Shrubbery, and I went down with her, Miss Maclean stayed with a friend in London—Mrs. Maclean died on 1st April, suddenly, at Broadway, I was with her at the time—she died at the house of a Mr. Allcock, where she had taken apartments until the Shrubbery was ready—her daughter was not with when she was taken ill—she was in London, but she was telegraphed for and came down, and was with her when she died—Mrs. Maclean also left a son, Norman Maclean, he is a doctor—Mrs. Maclean left a will—the son and daughter came into some property, £3,000 between them; after the mother's death Miss Maclean came to my house and lived with me for about a month at my house in London, until 3rd of May—I know the prisoner Paine, I only knew him since Mrs. Maclean's death, when he came to my house—he was known to Mrs. and Miss Maclean before that, but I did not know him—I did not how whether he was married or single—he came to my house to see Miss Maclean, much to my surprise; he called perhaps once a week, sometimes, he might perhaps have called twice in the week, I can't Say exactly how often he called—I was present when he first came to the house, but I left the room immediately—he did not at any time tell me the object of his visits—I did not learn from him what his business was I did not know where he was living—on 8th May I and my niece went down to Broadway, to the Shrubbery—I stayed there a fortnight with her—I did not see while I was there—he did not come to the Shrubbery at all—I returned to London alone-about a month afterwards my niece came to London to stay with me for a short time—Paine came soon after—two or three days after she came up she had occasion to go down into the country for some days to find some deeds and papers of administration, or something, and then she returned to me

in three or four days, I can't say exactly; her brother was with me at that time—during the two or three days before she went into the country Paine called to see her, and after her return he also called—she was only with me two or three days then—after that she went back to the Shrubbery with her brother—at that time I did not know her position with regard to Paine, not until the evening before she left my house—she did not tell me, but she did tell my servant—I heard her say it—her brother had been staying with me, and went down with her to the Shrubbery—her brother left for America at the end of August—Miss Maclean came up to town then, and I saw her—she came to my house for about an hour—she went to live at 11 Alexandra Street, Westbourne Park, 10 or 11 days—Paine was with her then—she afterwards went back to the Shrubbery—I did not see her again till I was called to her at the coffee-house at 128, Seymour Place—that was on a Sunday evening just a fortnight before she died—I was fetched by Mr. Fitzpatrick—I went with him to a bedroom at the first-floor back—my niece was in bed—when I had last seen her before she was in good health—in regard to drink she took what other people did, she drank moderately—one night, when she had been out the whole day with Paine, she came back a little the worse for drink—that was in May—when I went to the coffee-house Mrs. Powell and a nurse named Mrs. Wright were there—my niece was very ill indeed—she did not seem to have the free use of her hands—I spoke to her and she spoke to me—at times she was very collected, but at others she would wander—I stayed with her all night till about 7 o'clock the next morning—Mr. Fitzpatrick remained about half an hour—Mr. Waller was sent for—I believe he is a surgeon—he was sent for at about 1 o'clock, I believe, by Mrs. Powell—he saw her and examined her—he remained about 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour—Mrs. Powell's servant was there, also Mrs. Postlethwaite—I noticed the state of Miss Maclean's night-dress, it was stained with something down the front—it looked dark, as if it was brandy—I saw two tumblers with spirits in them beside her bed—one looked dark like brandy, and the other was lighter, like whisky—I did not smell it—I saw one bottle on the mantelpiece—I examined her feet and hands—she complained of great pain and cold, and would not let any one touch them—her hands were as if they were paralysed—she could not put them to her face—she said "Look at my mouth"—I looked at her mouth—her hands seem convulsed—her mouth was very red and almost raw—she did not get out of bed at all in the night—she did not appear to be able to get out—she did not seem as if she could hold anything in her hand very well, she tried, but could not do so—she had nothing to eat or drink while I was there—she asked for a glass of beer, but just put her lips to it—I left at 7—I had not seen anything of the prisoner before I left—I returned there, I think, about 12 or 1 o'clock—I went back alone—I went to the house, but did not see her—I went to my solicitor, Mr. Taylor, of Field Court, Gray's Inn, to fetch him to see Miss Maclean—she said said she wished to see him particularly—he met me at the coffee-house between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I saw Dr. Thomas there—I went into the room with Mr. Taylor—my niece then appeared a little better—I stayed about half an hour on that occasion—Paine came in whilst I was there—I said to him, "Do you call yourself a man to ill-treat a little orphan deformity as she is, and rob her of her money?"—I said, "You are beneath a man to bring her into a coffee-house to

die. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I only wish I was her brother; I would thrash you till you hadn't a piece of flesh to stand on"—he said, "You get out of this. This is my place, and I pay for it"—"You pay for it!"I said; "not with your own money, you don't"—he said, "That's my wife"—"Your wife!"I said; "You had better take care what you say; you've a wife living. Instead of robbing her and bringing her to disgrace, you ought to have been a protector to her at your age"—I implored my niece to think of what she was 'doing, and what anguish it would have caused to her mother if she had' been alive—she said that she would not come with me, and that she, did not want to be interfered with by me, but she seemed to be quite under his influence—I said, "Annie, if I can be of no further use to you I will gay good-bye, sometime, perhaps, you may want me when it will be too late"—I left then—on the previous day she had been very anxious to come with me, but after she had seen Paine she seemed afraid to speak—it was about 5 when I left—that was the last time I saw her alive—I heard of her death afterwards and saw her body—I attended the inquest.

Cross-examined. What I have said is true—I was examined before the Coroner once, and I was called up a second time a fortnight afterwards to contradict a statement—I did not say then a single word of what I have said now; I was not asked to do so—I said that he ordered me out of the room, but that is the only portion of the long story I have told to-day that I told the Coroner—my niece was not able to assist herself in any way—she appeared very much attenuated—I have not said that she was next door to a skeleton—I said that her poor hands and arms had got very much thinner, and her face also—she looked as if she had not had sufficient food, I think—she looked half-starved, and in a very different condition to when I saw her last—she was generally very thin—as my niece, I had entertained a deep affection for her—I made no inquiry about her between then and the time of her death, because I did not wish to be insulted, and my affection for her yielded to that—Mr. Fitzpatrick vent to the police the first night I was there, leaving me in a cab—he went on my account—he is here, I believe—I learned from him that they would not interfere—I sat with her all night, and left at 7 a.m.—before I left I sent for some gin, as she wanted something to drink—she was allowed weak spirits—there were two tumblers there, but castor oil had been put in and she would not take it—I call it brandy from the colour—I did not try to make her take it, but the nurse tried in my presence—I do not know whether it was neat brandy—I saw the nurse put it to her lips but she refused to take it, she said there was castor oil in it—the whisky had castor oil in it too—the nurse also tried her with the whisky and she would not take that either because of the castor oil—I did not mention that before because I was not allowed to speak—I did not tell the jury about sending out for gin, because I was not asked the question—I paid 6d. for the gin—she was craving for something to drink—I did not smell the castor oil, but it looked like it, you could see it swimming at the top, and it looked like brandy at the bottom of the tumbler, and the same with the other, the whisky at the bottom and the oil at the top—Mrs. Knowles is the friend she remained with when her mother went to Broadway, she is not here, she lives at Kilburn—the deceased drank wine, beer, and brandy and water, but I

have not always been with her—she might have taken two glasses of wine with her dinner, but sometime not any, she would take a glass of beer, not more—when she did not take beer she took brandy and water, but she never took brandy neat.

Re-examined. I had not noticed that her habits were in temperate before her mother took the shrubby—after her mother's death, when she had been out with Mr. paine the whole day, she came home in the evening and I noticed that she had had a little too much—when I sent for the gin it was because she expressed a desire for it, she was very thirty—I gave her some mixed with water, she had very little of it.

ERNEST HUMERERT . I am a solicitor at 4, field court, Gray's I am—I am a member of the firm of Taylor and sons, who were solicitor to the deceased's family—on the death of mother she became entitled to half the sum of 1,800l., with 29l. 1s. 3d., interest, some gas shares which realised 450l., two-thirds of the lease of 40, Eastbourne Terrace and an interest in half the furniture—the value of the house was taken at 1,800l.—it was not sold, merely valued—total amount that Annie Maclean had was 900l. in cash for the mortgage, 29l. 1s. 3d., the interest on the gas shares, and 450l., which was the moiety of what those shares realised amounting together to 1,379. 1s. 3d., the—about 310l. was paid for the probate and other expresses in winding up the estate of Mrs. Maclean—the cheques paid out of the balance to miss Maclean were on 1st may 10l. on 5th July 10l.; on 2nd August 10l.; on 27th August 20l.; on 9th september 165l.; on 23rd September 25l.; and 40l. on the same day—on 6th November a 40l., cheque was handed to Mr. pain—those sums amount to 320l.—that reduced her cash balance to 90l.—some of the cheques were that to her by letter, and others were handed to her when she called at the office—they were sometimes handed to her and pain—the last one was payable to her order and was handed to paine along.

DR. NORMAN COLLIER MACLEAN , M.R.C.P. and M.R.C.S. I am not residing at 275, fulham Road—I was educated at wellington college, and left about 1867, when my sister, the deceased, was living with my mother at Eastbourne Terrace—I studied at st. mary's Hospital—I have since lived at various places—my father, Lieutenant-colonel Maclean, died in 1854, and my mother's myself, and my sister formed the family—on 30th August last I went to America, and I returned for the vacation—paine visited my mother's house, but I never saw him there—when I came house I saw him twice—he professed to be a commission agent—I did not know much about him, but my mother objected to his coming to the house because his character was not good—I communed practice for myself and I left my mother's home—after 1876 I lived at several place—in 1879 I had chamber in Barnard's inn—I was then married—my mother died on 1st April—I was there about nine hours before she died—after that on sister went to live with her aunt—she was very amiable and apparently happy, considering the deformity she had—she had the same average abilities as most young ladies possess—about a month after my sister in death I went to my solicitor to get a settlement prepared for my sister in consequence of what some one said—I got it prepared, and afterward handed it to my sister; she said she would not sign it at Broadway it consult my co-executor, Mr. Clark—I afterwards saw it at Broadway in her possession still unexecuted, and so far as I know it never was executed—it was only a draught—in may my wife and I went to the shrubbery,

and I stayed there on and off till 23rd August—Mrs. Bryson my mother-in-law, and Mrs. willison were there—paine was staying there part of the time I was there—before I went to Broadway and while paine was there he told us all that he had been married to my sister since march, and my sister who was present, conformed it—I had no actual reason to disbelieve it—while I was at the shrubbery the question arose whether my sister was married—I had executed a deed by which all her mother a property to which she was not entitled under the will should be hers for a certains monetary consideration; and Mr. Taylor, my mother's solicitor wrote to my, that he understood she was married, and another deed would have to he prepared, after which I saw paine and my sister and told her what Mr. Taylor had said, and if that was the case, there could be no half-confidence between her and her solicitor, that I had heard from her that they were married, but if they were not married—paine was not in the room then but afterwards he heard what had been said, and admitted that they ward not married, but that he was perfectly ready and willing to marry her—I did not know that he was already; I asked him and he said he was not—I left with my wife and did not tell her the state of a hairs—I agreed to sell my share in the house and the state of sister—I arrangement was carried out before I sailed for America on 30th August settle in America—I received two letters in New York from paine, one containing a doctor's certificate respecting my sister—the next information I received was that of the death of my sister, and I then came to England—before my mother took the shrubbery, my sister was living with her in craven Row—I was not in a position to know my habits, but I should say she was not intemperate—my mother complained to me that when she went out she sometimes came back having had more that was good for her—I never saw her what I could say intoxicate—when I was saying at the shrubbery I thought she was taking more stimulant than was good for her, certainly—I spoke to her about it, but she said nothing in paine's presence.

Cross-examined. I have not great experience in female drunkenness, and cannot say whether it is difficult to control—I have been in practice since 1875—I had chambers in Barnard's Inn—soon after the death of Mrs. Maclean my sister came to see me there—she called once with Mr. paine—nothing was said about her being in the family-way—they were not there five did not come to say good-bye—I was staying at the shrubbery when they were there, but I do not remember being called up one night by paine to see my sister, who was in great paine—the size of her stomach was noticeable by anybody—I could not have discovered whether she was in the family-way—I was called up one morning because she had noticed a blue mark on the said of her abdomen, and she was rather anxious about it, and paine asked me to come and look at it—he was present while I made the examination—I formed no impression as to her being in the family-way—I did not examine her to that extent, but I recommended her to have an obstetric physician for that purpose—medical man do not hazard opinions—paine said that she complained of great plain, and in consequence of the her body he wished me to examine her—I do not think I know at that time they were not married; it

depends upon what the date was—I was at the Shrubbery from 12th May, on and off, till 23rd August—if it was anterior to 19th August I did not know that she was married, if it was posterior I did; my impression is that I did not know whether she was married—August 19th is the date I went to Taylor and Sons.

CHRISTINA TERESA SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith, who keeps a lodging-house, 1, Alexander Street, Westbourne Park—on Saturday night, 30th August last, I was sent for to a neighbour's house, where I saw the prisoner and the deceased—they were introduced to me as Mr. and Mrs. Paine—Paine wished to take my rooms—he said he had come up on business, and also to see some doctors—he took the dining-room and the second-floor front bedroom—the next Sunday, the 31st, he and the deceased came in a cab between 1.30 and 2 o'clock—Paine assisted the deceased out, she being a cripple—he did not carry her; he merely gave her the assistance which a gentleman would give to a lady—they went into the dining-room together, and I went there very shortly after—the deceased was half sitting, half lying, in a large arm-chair, fast asleep—her face was very much flushed—I asked Paine how it was she was so face asleep, and he told me that she was prostrate with grief at her brother's having just left for America—I did not then see any bottle in the room—they had dinner soon after—I thing there was a bottle of brandy on the sideboard during some portion of that day—in the evening I has some conversation with Paine about the condition of the deceased—he began it, and the substance of it was that she was pregnant, and not in a good state of health—he made allusion to her being deformed, and told me that she was gone just half her time—I said I thought she ought to have the best advice—they remained at my house about ten days, till Sept. 10—during all that time she was principally in the bedroom; very seldom in the dining-room; but they went out daily—during their stay I conversed with the prisoner frequently about the lady's supposed pregnancy—I asked her in his presence why they did not have a doctor—he continually put it off, saying that he was going to, or that she was not well enough, or not willing that day—he asked me what I thought about the coming event—I said I could not tell—I asked him if he had had good medical advice, and he said that he had, and that cripples had the best of times—he said that Dr. Norman Maclean, her brother, who was a doctor, was very uneasy at the state she was in with her deformity—one day I saw some baby linen lying on a chair—I can't say who brought it—I said to Paine, "You have been buying the baby linen, I see"—he replied, "Yes, I have had to buy it; she's such a funny little thing; she wouldn't trouble about it"—I was only aware after they left of the number of bottles they had; I believe I said at the inquest seven bottles of brandy—every morning the servant used to bring one bottle down, and it was only after they had left that I found out what number had been used—there were seven bottles of brandy, one bottle of whisky, one bottle of gin, one of sherry, two of ginger wine, and eleven of claret—in the bedroom we found three or fount flair bottles, such as you see sold at railway stations, empty—I waited on Mr. Paine on the day he came, as my servant had gone for a holiday, but I did not see more if him when he dined in the house—they both dines in the dining-room when they had dinner at home, but she principally reside in the bedroom—they left on 10th September—Paine

asked me if I could find a servant for her, and I suggested that she should have a proper nurse with her—he said he was going back to the Shrubbery—the servant was very seldom able to get into the bedroom till late in the afternoon—up to that time the door was locked, I believe—the lady ate comparatively nothing.

Cross-examined. I could not say whether she was in the family-way; she being deformed—it was not patent—my servant is not here, she could answer no questions that I can't answer—she went up to empty the slops, and I went up afterwards to make the bed; I or my servant opened the outer door, whichever was the handiest—I cannot say how the bottles got into the house, I suppose Paine brought them, but the claret he wished me to get in for him, it cost 2s. a bottle—I do not know how the seven bottles of brandy were brought in—I was surprised when I saw them empty—Miss Maclean never went out alone, always with the prisoner—I never saw her drunk, but I saw Paine drunk several times; he seldom came home at night without being drunk—I saw very little or the deceased, I daresay there were three days out of the ten that I did not see her; she was seldom out late in the evening or downstairs—I saw her return with him late once or twice, and she then appeared sober, he seemed very attentive to her—I noticed to harshness on his part, but the contrary—they had no dinner parties, there was only one proper dinner, the others were little bits—on that occasion there was a pair of soles, a leg of lamb, and a pudding; Paine told me before that he had invited two ladies, and any servant said two ladies came—there were some callers, one gentleman called one morning, and two ladies came—there were some callers, one gentleman dined there—I never saw any time of potted meat.

Re-examined. Sometimes Paine brought in the little they had, haddock or bloater; I spoke to him daily about the smallness of deceased's appretite, and he said that she would not eat, and had not eaten since she had been in the family-way; my servant's name is Ellen Parry, she ill with ulcerated throat—when Paine came home drunk he was alone.

HERBERT GEORGE GOLDRINGHAM . I am a solicitor at Worcester—on the 16th September last the prisoner called upon me, introducing himself to me as being of the Shrubbery, Broadway; he first said he wanted me to transact a little matter of business of a private nature; that he had formed a connection with a young lady at Broadway, who was reputed to be his wife, but that he really was not married to her, and that she wished to make over to him all her property, and he wished to do the same with regard to his; he then handed to me a document which he said had been sent by some solicitors in London, saying that he thought that was not the kind of document they both required; he asked me to peruse it, I did so, and I told him that it was merely a settlement of property belonging to a Miss Maclean, and that the effect of it would be to vest whatever property Miss Maclean had in the hands of trustees; it was a marriage settlement; I told him that the mouse simple plan to adopt, and the least expensive one, would be for each party to make a short will in favour of the other; to this he assented, and I took down the instructions; he did not say where Miss Maclean was then staying; he wanted to know when the wills would be ready for signature; I said they would be very simple documents, and could be ready by 11 o'clock the following day; and that time was fixed for Paine and Miss Maclean to come to my office—he said she believed herself to be in the family-way and was in a great fright—

next morning Paine came with a lady, who he introduced to me as Miss Maclean—I explained to her the instructions I had received, and the conversation which had taken place on the previous day, and that I had prepared wills in conformity with those instructions—she said "That is exactly what I wished"—I then read over her will to her and his will to him, both being present—these are them (produced)—she approved of her will, and afterwards executed it, and he executed his, I and my clerk attesting—these are the wills—they are the same, except that in his will there is a policy on his life, and in hers there is none—at Paine's request she paid me my charge, and I then returned to him the draft marriages settlement which he had given me the previous day—at that time Miss Maclean was, so far as I could judge, in perfect health, and quite robust; in perfect possession of her faculties—they left together—on 21st September I received a letter from Mr. Paine, dated the 20th—the signature appears the same as that affixed to the affixed to the will. (Read: "Dear Sir,—Miss Maclean wishes you to prepare a simple deed of gift of the leave of the house, 40, Eastbourne Terrace, to me." Signed L. J. Paines.) Wanting further particulars, I wrote this letter to Mr. Paine and seen it to him by pose to Broadway. (This was dated September 22, asking the prisoner to supply him with document for the preparation of the assignment: a letter from Paine in reply, dated the 24th, was also put in, enclosing the deeds.) I then prepared the draft deed, got it engrossed, and wrote to Paine that it was ready for execution—it was an absolute assignment of the house in East-bourn Terrace—on 4th October the deceased and Paine called at the office together—I read it over to her and she executed it—Paine asked me to keep it for the present, and he would let me know what to do with it—on 12th October I received a letter from Paine, dated the 11th and saying "We are in receipt of the lease, &c., of Eastbourne Terrace"—I had explained to him that in order to complete the title he ought to be is possession of the original lease of the ground on which the house was built, and I sent it to the Shrubbery by post, and never saw either Paines or Miss Maclean after that.

Cross-examined. I saw Miss Maclean twice; on the first occasion when she made her will, for about half an hour, and on the second occasion for 20 minutes to half an hour—I noticed that she limped into the room lamely, but I saw no deformity—she did not appear to be all acting under compulsion—she seemed a perfectly free agent—there was not a word, look, to sign from Paine as if he was influencing her—he was exceedingly polite to her in every way, taking her shawl and her gloves, and so on—to the best of my judgment she was not drunk, or I should not have allowed her to sign the document—this is the deed she signed.

ALFRED PAUL WATKINS . I reside at 54, Folgate Street, Woroester, and am a land agent and surveyor, and a wine and spirit merchant—I am agent for the Gresham Life Insurance Office—I know paine he first called upon me on Wednesday, 17th September—no one was with him—it was about 10 a.m.—he said, "I am living with a lady at a place called the Shrubbery, Broadway; we live there as man and wife, but we are not married," that a sum of money would leave her if she married, and he wanted to insure her life—I told him that I could not take a proposal from him unless he could tell me that he had some insurable interest it her life—he said he had been connected with the New York Life Office, but they would not insure female lives—he then said that he would bring

the lady to my office, and that she should make the proposal—I told him that I was leaving Worcester that morning, and if he brought her it must be soon—he called again with Miss Maclean, about 11 o'clock—I filled up a proposal form for the amount stated, 250l.—Mr. Paine and Miss Maclean gave me the information jointly, and Miss Maclean signed it; he gave me as references himself and her brother, Dr. Maclean, who was in America, and he could not send the forms to him—one of the questions was whether she was sober and temperate—he said that she was strictly sober and temperate, and she said the same herself—when he brought her in she seemed excited and flurried a great deal, and he told me she was very much put about and excited by the death of her mother, and her brother's going abroad, and he asked me to give her a little brandy—I gave her about a table-spoonful with cold water in it—he said that she was excited by dressing rather hurriedly to come to my office, having been in bed on the first occasion—he asked me whether it was the custom of the Gresham office to pay immediately after proof of death, or whether we took three months—I told him three months—on the first occasion that he came he said the lady thought she was pregnant, but that he himself did not think so—I made an appointment with our insurance doctor, Dr. Everett, to examine her—on the following day I sent up the proposal to the chief office, and made my own report on the case, and the insurance was declined—they appeared to be on very affecttionate terms—he appeared very kind to her, too much so before a stranger; he called her "diaries" and "darling."

Cross-examined. I did not hear her use any terms to him—he told me that the New York office paid on proof of death—she was perfectly sober.

Tuesday, February 17th, 1880.

DAVID EVERETT . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons carrying on my profession at Worcester—on 18th September last the prisoner and Miss Maclean called on me—they were strangers to me—Paine said, "Mr. Everett, I have come to you at Mr. Watkins's request to examine this lady, who has made a proposal to the Gresham; I am her friend"—I then proceeded to put to her the usual questions, and received her answers—I examined her—I elicited from her partly the facts of the case, and other facts I arrived at from my own personal observation—I examined the lungs, and as far as I could find they were sound—I examined the heart—with the exception of its being a little feeble, it appeared to me to be sound, but I found that she was very deformed in the pelvis, so much so that if she became pregnant, and went to the full time, in all probability parturition would be attended with fatal, or at any rate most serious results, and in consequence of that condition alone I recommended the office not to take the life, and it was not accepted—she stated, and Paine also stated, that her habits were temperate—I believe the terms she used were that she partook moderately of wine—that was suggested to her by Paine—my impression was that there was no such enlargement of the liver as to be very notable in a person so much deformed, and there was nothing whatever about her appearance to lead me to anticipate any speedy termination to her life.

Cross-examined. She had a delicate appearance—she was not undressed, but I should have formed a judgment if she had been very large, if the abdomen was swollen—I discovered the deformity of the pelvis by passing

my hand under her clothes, at her back and round the pelvis—I believe it was on the right side—the indication of the deformity was the prominence of the spine backwards, and the elevation of the hips on the right side—my attention was not drawn to the liver by any considerable swelling, and when I asked if she had any liver trouble, she said, "No. I have not"—I know a disease called cirrhosis—that is an advanced state of liver disease—I never heard the name of rottenness applied to it—practically, that is the nature of it—it is substantially an extraneous growth, the healthy tissue of the liver has become destroyed by the presence of a new deposit—it is brought on rather quickly—I did not examine the kidneys.

Re-examined. I simply examined the lady for the office, and I never saw her before or since, except one day I think in the street.

JAMES BRICK . I keep the Swan Inn, at Broadway, Worcestershire—on Monday, the 3rd of November last, I sent a waggonette to the Shrubbery—my driver was a man named Kyte—Mr. Paine had ordered it on the previous Saturday—on the Monday morning I went to the house, between 9 and 10 o'clock, and saw the prisoner, who asked me to carry Mrs. Paine out of the bedroom to the carriage, because he was not able—I then went upstairs to the bedroom on the first-floor, and found a lady sitting there dressed, ready for travelling—she appeared to be in a very bed state, I should think, for travelling—she could not speak to me—I took her in my arms, lifted her from the couch, carried her down the stairs, and put her in the waggonette—she could not stand—her face was swollen—Fanny Matthews was standing in the hall dressed, ready for traveling—there was no one else at the house besides myself, Paine, Fanny Matthews, and the driver of the waggonette—after I put the lady into the carriage I went away, leaving it at the door—I had known the lady before at Broadway as Miss Maclean—the Swan Inn from the Shrubbery is about 200 yards—I had not seen the lady out for a month, perhaps, or more.

Cross-examined. The shrubbery is a two-storied house—this (produced) is a photograph of it—I did not hear the deceased speak as I was carrying her downstairs—I did not hear her speak at all, not to any one; that I am perfectly certain of.

By the COURT. Broadway is a village of about 1,700 in habitants, about 21 miles from Worcester—there is only one medical man there, Dr. Beadles—there is no solicitor.

JOSEPH KYTE . I am a fly-driver, and employed by the last witness—on the morning of the 3rd November I took a waggonette to the Shrubbery—I got there about 9 o'clock, and saw Mr. Paine about five minutes after—he came out and asked me to fetch the luggage—I could not manage it—Mr. Paine called Mr. Brick, and he carried Miss Maclean into the waggonette—she appeared very ill—after she was put into the waggonette we waited half an hour, and Miss Maclean remained in the waggonette—during that time Mr. Paine and Fanny Matthews came out once or twice—I did not hear either of them say anything to Miss Maclean—I afterwards drove the three to the railway-station at Evesham, a distance of about six miles—about half way we stopped at the Sandys Arms—Mr. Paine went in there and came out with a half-pint bottle and a glass—it looked like pale brandy—I did not see him do anything with it, I was looking to the horses—he took the glass and bottle back into the

Sundays Arms—we then went on, and stopped opposite the Crown Hotel, Evesham—Mr. Paine got out there, and told me to drive to the station and wait till he came—the signalman, named Hall, came out, and I lifted Miss. Maclean out of the waggonette on to the step, and he carried her in his arms into the waiting-room—that was the last I saw of her—I did not hear her speak.

Cross-examined. I saw the glass taken back, not the bottle—I had a glass of whisky, which Mr. Paine gave me.

EDWARD HALL . I am a signalman at the Evesham Station—I remember her the prisoner coming to the station early in November—I saw the waggonette driven by the last witness—Miss Maclean and Miss Matthews were in the waggonette—I lifted the lady out and carried her into the waiting-room on the down side—she appeared to be intoxicated—she could not stand—I noticed that when I was taking her out of the wagonette—she tried to stand and could not—she went down on her kness—I put her on a bench in the waiting-room—at that time the prisoner was not there—he came about 15 minutes later—Fanny Matthews was there—she told me I was to label the luggage to Paddington—when the prisoner came he told me to carry Miss Maclean across from the down waiting-room to the up platform—a porter named Taylor assisted me to carry her to a third-class carriage—she looked intoxicated—there was a half-pint bottle with what appeared to be brandy in it in the waggonette—it was full—I handed it from the waggonette to the lady's maid, Matthews.

Cross-examined. I cannot tell whether the bottle had brandy, or brandy and water, or sherry in it—I did not notice the smell of her breath—I was close to her—this was about 20 minutes past 11—they were there about half an hour—I had seen her three or four times before; I don't think I ever saw her with Paine before; she was always deformed; she could walk very slowly; she could walk across our platform and along it; she walked with difficulty—I had heard that she was in the habit of drinking; I had never seen her intoxicated before this—I had heard she was in the habit of drinking.

GEORGE TAYLOR . I am porter at the Evesham Station—I assisted the last witness to carry a lady from the waiting-room to the carriage—she looked weak—the face was puffed up and bloated out—she was not capable of walking.

FANNY MATTHEWS . My father lives at Broadway—he is a gardener—before 11th September last year I had been a domestic servant in London—I left my service at that time and went back to my father—he was not exactly working for Mr. Paine; he had been laying the garden, getting it ready for the time Mrs. Maclean was to come there—in consequence of something my father told me, I went to the Shrubbery to seek a situation there; it was on Saturday, 13th September, I went first about 10 o'clock in the morning—the Shrubbery is at the bottom of the village—there is a house adjoining it, it is what is called a semi-detached house—I saw Mr. Paine first, he asked me into the kitchen, and called Mrs. Paine downstairs to me—I had seen her before in Broadway, but not to know anything about her—the result was that I was engaged as servant, and I went in about two hours afterwards to stay for good—there was no other servant—Mr. and Mrs. Paine and myself were the occupants of the house—I remained there until we left for London on 3rd November—Mr.

and Mrs. Paine slept on the first floor, I slept in a room over theirs—I supposed that they were married—they had their meals very irregularly—I prepared the breakfast—Mr. Paine used to come down to breakfast, Mrs. Paine stayed upstairs, she has been down two or three times, that is all—she was very uncertain as to getting up; she was scarcely ever dressed; she used partly to dress herself and stay in her bedroom very much; she laid in bed a great deal—dinner was anytime—I saw so little of her at first that I scarcely knew whether she was well or ill—I did not go into her bedroom during the day—Paine tidied the room the first week, emptied the basins and so on—I only went into her bedroom on the Thursday, the day Mrs. Biddle called from Blockely—I went in after dinner; Miss Maclean was not in bed then, she came down to dinner—I don't know whether she had anything to drink the first week, it had been ordered in, but it was taken upstairs into the bedroom, an I never saw it afterwards; it was liquor, different sorts, I could not say what; it was spirits, in bottles—I am speaking of the first week—I could not say how many bottle their were, I don't remember—as they were brought in I put them on the kitchen table, and Paine took them upstairs into the bedroom—when bottle were empty, sometimes paine has brought them out and put them on the landing window and I took them away, and sometimes he brought them down himself—on the first Monday I was there, the 15th, Mr. and Mrs. Paine went to Worcester and returned on Wednesday evening about 7 o'clock—when they went Paine locked up every room in the house except my bedroom and the kitchen, and took the keys with him—on the first Sunday week after I was there Mrs. Paine made a statement to me—we had a fowl for dinner that day, and I asked Paine if I might take Miss Maclean's dinner up—I always called her Mrs. Paine—he said "No I will take it up when I have had my own," and when he had had his own he took some up with some sherry in a glass, and when I cleared dinner away I noticed that he brought Miss Maclean's dinner down untouched—I said "How is it that Mrs. Paine cannot eat her dinner? what can I get for her? What does she want?" and he said "Oh! drink, of course, as per usual"—he then I said was to clean myself and go out, and I then asked him if I might go up and make her bed first?—he said "No; you go out; I will attend to that"—I said it was not a right thing for a gentleman like him to be emptying basins and making beds—however, he said he would do it—on the same day, after I had cleaned myself to go out he came into the kitchen and asked me if I had heard any one say that they were not married—I said "No sir"—he said "Well, to prove we are, wait a moment and I will fetch a certificate"—he went upstairs and came back with a piece of paper in his hand—there was on it "Lewis Paine and Annie Mclean, married the 24th day of March"—he said "If any one should say we are not, you can say we are"—I went out about 4 o'clock and stayed out till about 9 o'clock—he said he was going to lock up all the doors and go to bed, and I was to take the back kitchen door key so that I could let myself in—when I came back I went to Miss Maclean's room—she was in bed—Paine was not there—she was caring—she was undressed in bed—she seemed very much distressed—I had some conversation with her—she asked me to get her a glass of milk—I got her the milk and she drank it—I did not notice her mouth—Paine came in after a little time—he said to Miss Maclean, "Well, how are you now,

dearie?—they spoke affectionately to each other—I made he bed and left for the night—I went into the room next morning, Monday, the 22nd—she was in bed—at my request she came down and had breakfast with Paine—I cannot remember whether she took any breakfast—she went upstairs afterwards—during the day Paine said to me that he wished that poor little devil could get about better—I asked him what was the matter with her—he said, "Don't you know she's pregnant?"I said "No, sir"—he said, "You look surprised;" and added, "Oh yes, she is; she is five or six months gone"—I then left the kitchen—the next morning she came down to breakfast, but I do not remember whether she ever did afterwards—I was more in the room after that—they were affectionate in appearance and in talk—Paine seemed to have influence ever her sometimes—I have seen Paine give her spirits—she has asked for food, and Paine has got up and given her liquors, spirits—he has given her at different times whisky, and gin, and brandy—he used to give it her in the glass belonging to the water bottle, from half to three parts full of nest spirits—Miss Maclean said she could not take it—she would say, "Oh, Lewis, I cannot take it"—because it burnt her mouth—I have taken the glass out of his hand and put it on the table, and Paine has left the room—on other occasions he has said, "Do as I tell you; take it; it will do you good"—she would take it then—she has shown me her mouth—it was very much inflamed and raw, and under her tongue were some little blisters which she called ulcers—they were white in colour—Paine has given her spirits more than once while we were at the Shrubbery—I have seen him do it two or three times—there were spirits in the room, in the wardrope, on the first shelf above the well—she could get to them by means of a chair; she could move across the room—there were bottles and glasses near the bed—a great deal of liquor came to the place—it was mostly spirit, but there was also sherry—the bottle were usually taken up to the bedroom—a jar of sherry was kept in the cellar, and a jar of gin in a little cupboard under the kitchen dresser and there was a jar of whisky in the housekeeper's room—I once carried down 16 empty bottles in one lot—they had had spirits in them; that was when I had been there between three or four weeks—I have also taken them down one or two at a time—Paine himself drank a great deal—the first three or four weeks I was there he was scarcely was sober—afterwards he was less frequently intoxicated—Miss Maclean said she was found of oysters—I have heard Her ask Paine for oysters, and he has passed it off to something else—has asked Paine for various kinds of food, and he would leave the room, or talk of something else—he used to give her spirits, and say that that was her polite way of asking for them—sometimes she took them with water—sometimes she has taken them willingly, and sometimes against her will—she appeared to be entirely under his influence when she took the spirits—he had, great influence over her—I remember Paine going to Worcester on one occasion—he took Miss Maclean with him—it was about a fortnight after the first visit—Paine told me he took a box of plate with him—I had not seen the plate in the house before—they went on a Tuesday and came back on the following Monday—Miss Maclean was quite intoxicated when she came back—Paine lifted her out of the conveyance, and stood her on the gravel—he then came into the house and left her—he was a great deal the worse for liquor—when I went out Miss Maclean staggered backWards,

and fell on to the ground—I ultimately carried her into the dining-room, and Pain took here upstairs—after that she kept her room, but was not always in bed—about a week after that Paine woke me up one night, and asked me to fetch the doctor—Miss Maclean was ill—I fetched Dr. Beadles, of Broadway—I then saw Miss Maclean; she appeared to Have been drinking—Paine gave her spirits after this, but I cannot Remember whether more then once—on the 13th of October we all went To a "bull-roast" at Stratford-on-Avon—Paine got into trouble there, and was locked up—he had drawn a revolver and presented it at somebody—he was bailed out—I frequently told Paine that Miss Maclean ought not to have so much drink—he said that it was her money, and if she liked to spend it so foolishly she could—Pain went away to London on Thursday, the 16th of October—Mrs. Porter and I attended to Miss Maclean in the meantime—I was always in the house—Miss Maclean did Not ask me for much drink during that time—she had very little indeed, and That was very weak—it was so weak it was so weak that she said it was enough to makes Her sick—she got better till the Sunday, when she began to fret a good deal—Pain came back the Wednesday following—I told him she had been much better while he was away, and that she had had less to drink and more to eat—he talked of taking her to London for medical advice—he said when she got to London she could have as much as she liked and be d——d to her—he was sober when he said that—he told me that she had been craving for something to drink—we started for London on Monday, the 3rd of September—Dr. Beadles had come a second time Before then—on the morning we left, Miss Maclean took a bath, and had Some coffee and an egg for breakfast—she seemed low in spirits; she had Something the matter with her feet, and could not walk—I don't know What it was; it was nothing to be seen; she had to be helped—Paine took With him a half-pint bottle of brandy from the Swan at Broadway—we reached Paddington about four o'clock that afternoon—Miss Maclean was helped out of the carriage into a cab—amongst other stations the train stopped at Oxford—a glass of some spirit was got, of which I and Miss Maclean partook—after leaving Paddington we called at a public-house in Pread Street—Pain fetched Miss Maclean some spirits from the puplice-house—we then drove to 128, Seymour Place, Marylebone—Paine fetched the landlord of the coffee-house out—the landlord carried Miss Maclean upstairs into ta room—Miss Maclean did not seem to me to be The worse for liquor—she was quite sensible, and was talking tome all The way—Paine did not stay many minutes—Miss Maclean did not want To go to bed, and sat in an arm-chair by the fire—Paine came back about Eight o'clock in the evening—he had nothing with that I can remember—he took his hat and lay down on the bed—he was the Worse for liquor, but not entirely drunk—he said to Miss Maclean that He was awfully "dickey," and without Miss Maclean saying anything at all to him, he called her a drunken little b——and a d——little devil—he said, "Do you think I am going to stay here to-night? Not if I know it"—he got off the bed and and was coming found the table to go towards Miss Maclean—he got past me when I got up out of the chair and said, "For God's sake, Mr. Pain, do hold your tongue."—he pushed me on One said and said, "Oh Lewis, do give you too many"—I left the room

Then, and went down to the front door—a few minutes afterwards Paine Came down—he something under his coat—I was speaking to Mr. Powell, and I asked Paine not to go away—he said he was not going to Sleep there if he knowed it—after he had gone I went back to Miss Maclean, and gave her a bath—Mrs. Powell came in, and Miss Maclean asked her for something to drink—she said she wanted a little drop of gin-and-water, which she took—she had nothing more that night—I slept on the floor—Paine came the next morning a little after 8—He did not stay long, but went out and came back about 10 o'clock—he asked me to go out with him, in the presence of Miss Maclean—When we got out he said it was to buy me a jacket—he gave me a sovereign—he selected a jacket, for which I gave 15s., and gave him back the 5s.—we were not away more than an hour and a half, as long as ever it was and then we went back—he bought some bread and cheese, which we had at a public-house, with a glass of ale each—when we got back Miss Maclean had a little drop of weak rum-and-water—about 3 o'clock in the afternoon Paine, who had gone away, came back—he washed and shaved, and then went out to the Museum Tavern—he returned about 6 o'clock—Miss Maclean had another little drop of rum-and-water then—Paine had brought it in in the morning, about half a pint—that evening he called me out of the room, and said he had taken lodgings and wished me to leave—I said I could not leave Miss Maclean there by herself—he said, "I am going out now, and I insist upon your leaving—I am going out before you, and I will get somebody to look after her"—he said I was to come to 31, Nutford Place—I did go there, and we stayed there as man and wife—he gave me ring, a common one—he afterwards exchange it for another, about a fortnight after—he Gave me a gold one—the next morning I went back to Mrs. Powell's—She did not tax me with having stayed at Nutford Place—she asked me Where I had been, and I said that that was no business of hers—we had Words, and I ultimately left the house—I never went back again or saw Miss Maclean again—that was on the 5th of November—after I left I stayed at Nutfored Place till the following Wednesday—after that I went to Broadway with Paine—we went first to Evesham, and stayed, when we returned to London—we came back to the Sussex Hotel, and stayed there till the Wednesday following, when we went to Brighton and stayed there a week—that was after Miss Maclean had died—I came up to give my evidence at the Coroner's inquest, after which we went back to Brighton again, to Titchfield Terrace—at these various places I and Paine passed as man and wife—I was informed of Miss Maclean's death on the morning following—we were then staying at the Sussex Hotel—Paine told me very little about Miss Maclean—I asked Him how she was, and he used to tell me—that was all that I knew—he did not say anything about her death that I remember—two days after Miss Maclean's death he said, "Fanny, if you will only trust me, and believe what I say, you shall be Mrs. Pain. Two-thirds of the property at the Shrubbery would belong to me; the other was Norman Maclean's—the second night we were at Nutford Place I said I was not willing to stay with him—I said it was not a thing for me To stay there with a married man—he said "For all you know Miss Maclean is not my wife"—he said "Now if you will keep your temper I

will tell you the truth"—he said, "After the death of Mrs. Maclean, Norman Maclean sent for me, and asked me if I would go down to Broadway and live with Miss Maclean as her supposed husband, as she was supposed to be pregnant"—and he added that Norman Maclean had given him 600l.—he said that the certificate of marriage he had shown me had been drawn out by Norman Maclean—the morning we left Nutford Place away—that was the plate left at home for their use—i saw by a the plate away—that was the plate left at home for their use—I saw by a ticket that it had been pledged for 8l.—he did not tell me what he had done with the first lot of plate—I remember going to a Mr. Lloyd's house on the Sunday before Miss Maclean died—Mr. Lloyd was a friend of mine a plumber near Primrose Hill—I went there after my sister—there was some conversation about Miss Maclean—Paine was with me—my sister asked where she was and Paine refused to tell—he gave me a look not to tell—he also pulled out the same revolver that had been taken from him at Stratford and presented it at me—it was loaded in seven chambers—I know that, because he afterwards unloaded it in the presence of Mr. Lloyd—he told me afterwards that he presented it at me because he was afraid I was going to say something about Miss Maclean's drinking—he was perfectly sober at the time—I remember going to the inquest with Paine on Thursday, the 26th November—I said to him, "Mr. Paine, I shall have the question put before me, 'Who ordered all these spirits?'"—he said "Say you did at Mrs. Paine's request, and that will clear me."—I said, "I will; I will not stand the blame of that as I am not guilty of"—I did make a statement before the Coroner—by being urged on by Paine all along I said I would say that he and me ordered them—I did say so, but I did not order them—we had been living at Titchfield Terrace before the inquest, but not as man and wife—my sister was there—Paine came back there after the inquest, and when I got back I found him there before me—a lady named Mrs. Louisa Paine appeared at the inquest—he said to me, "Fancy that Look being there"—I said, "Yes, fancy you owning that she is your wife"—he said she was not his wife, but he was obliged to own that she was, as he was afraid they would charge him with bigamy—I had been in Court when he owned she was his wife—we went away to Brighton on the Friday morning, and stayed till the Wednesday morning—on the 8th of December we went to the Coroner's office to get some clothes of mine—Paine would not go without me—there was a portmanteau there, which was given to him—he said that it was not my things that he wanted the portmanteau so much for as the ticket for the plate, which was hidden between the lining and the leather of the portmanteau—Paine made a statement before the Coroner about the bottles in the wardrobe—he told me to say that I accidentally found them unknown to him, and that he knew nothing about them—he said that would be in his favour—I said I should not—I was arrested on the 16th of December—Paine was arrested at the same time—I have been at Newgate till yesterday, when I was discharged.

Cross-examined. This business about the revolver occurred on the 16th November, I believe it was—the day before she died—the prisoner had not said anything to me about my giving evidence—it surprised me a good deal his drawing out the revolver and pointing it at me—I had no notion what it was for—we had been on affectionate terms—he had not

drawn a revolver upon me before—I was not present when he used one at Stratford, but I heard that he was taken into custody—I found Hiss Maclean by the Town Hall, and waited with her—I heard that Paine had to get bail—I never knew that any of Miss Maclean's plate had been pawned to pay the fine, till I saw the tickets—I did not know that he meant me to commit perjury—I do not know what perjury is exactly—I dare say there is harm in it—I don't know that taking a false oath is committing perjury, not when I was compelled to do it by other people—supposing other people ask me to tell a falsehood on oath, I am not aware that that would be asking me to commit perjury—I did not know that I was committing perjury in giving false evidence before the Coroner, it was done in entire ignorance—it is impossible to say when Paine spoke to me for the first time about my evidence—he spoke to me frequently—it was between the time when he used the revolver and the time we returned from Brighton—he spoke to me first about it at Brighton—we were there about a week after he produced the revolver—I did not know that there was to be an inquest till the day he attended Miss Maclean's funeral, as supposed, and he returned and told me there was to be an inquest—I did not think there was any harm in it—I was brought up at the Roman Catholic School, Broadway—I was there 14 or 15 years—I learned there that it is sinful to tell lies, but what was I to do when I was compelled to do it?—I did not think it was sinful—I told some lies before the Coroner, but not a lot—I knew that I was doing it—I was on my oath—I did not think it was sinful—I was only examined once, and then committed to Newgate—I knew what I was there for when I heard the charge read—I have told a different story now, because I wish to tell the truth,' and nothing but the truth, and relieve my conscience, without any reference to my fate—I did not make a statement with a view of being called here as a witness—I did not know that I should be called—the Roman Catholic chaplain of the gaol Tinted me, but I did not make any statement to him—I first made my present statement to my father and Mr. Lloyd of my own free will—that young gentleman (Mr. Batchelor) came to me about my evidence, but before that I wrote to the Solicitor to the Treasury about it—so far as I can remember, Mr. Lloyd brought me the address of the Solicitor to the Treasury—I have been talking to Lloyd since I have been out of Court—I did not tell him what I was going to say, and he did not know—I have not had my statement read over to me since it was given, or seen a copy of it—it was got by one of my friends, I don't know whether it was Lloyd or my sister—Lloyd and I have talked over the statement, but I never said anything to him that was in my statement—one day when he came to me at the cell he said he had a copy of my statement, but not with him—last night I slept with my sister in St. George's Board—Lloyd was not there—no other persons were sleeping with us—I saw Lloyd last night—I went with my friends to West Square, and saw him—all that was said about my statement was to speak correctly, and not too fast, and answer the questions put to me—they did not tell me my statement would acquit me, they never knew nor did I—I do not know whether they ever saw my statement—I never saw anything of my statement after it went out of the prison. (Lloyd was here tent out of Court)—neither the whole nor part of my statement was read to me last night, nor did anybody repeat it—I said that I did not know because I did not want to tell a lie, I wanted to

stay and consider—I have been in Lloyd's company this morning, he is very great friend of mine—he is a plumber and house decorator and such as that—I am quite sure I saw nothing of my statement last night, nor do I know where it was—I did not ask about it—I never mentioned it I am sure—I did not believe that Paine was cruelly ill-treating Miss Maclean—I could see that he was giving her improper quantities of liquor, and I thought it was doing her harm—I did not know whether he had a motives or not. (Parts of the witness's statement to the Treasury were here read by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, in which the witness had stated that the deceased complained to her that Paine had been bullying her because she did not pi up and attend to her duties, and of his pouring liquor down her throat.)—there were other occasions when she told me that he was behaving very cruelly to her, but I do not know whether he was or not—I did see him cramming liquors down her throat, but I did not know whether he was doing it wilfully or not—I did not know but what they were married—I always behaved with perfect kindness to her, there never was a word of unkindness passed between her and me during the whole time I was with her—I always had great respect for her; she did not treat me as if I was a servant, she treated me as a friend always—on 3rd November, the day they arrived at the coffee-house, I remained there—I will be on my oath that Mrs. Powell never asked me who the lady was or whether she was Paine's wife—I say that because she says I told her they were married in a county church in Worcester, but I never did, for I never knew where they were married—I did not say "She is Mrs. Paine, she was married to Mr. Paine at the church near our village"—I cannot remember whether Mrs. Powell said so at the inquest—I told you that I did not say so before you asked me, because I had a copy of Mrs. Powell's statement brought to me by a detective, I do not know his name—I have not been talking to him outside to-day, I have never seen him—he brought it into the prison—that was after I made the statement to the Treasury—he brought me several statements, I do not know his reason—I just opened them and took a look at them—I did not tell Mrs. Powell that the deceased had been drinking—I was pulling off her stockings—I was not using great violence in doing so, I was doing it quite gently—Mrs. Powell did not say that I ought to pull them off gently, nor did I say that she was a nasty dirty beast, that was the furthest from my thoughts—I read the whole of that in Mrs. Powell's statement—Mrs. Powell never once complained to me of my not taking her up sufficient food—what I am saying is perfectly true—Mrs. Powell has sworn to a lie, and it is wicked in her, and God will reward her for it—I learned that God would reward a person for telling a lie after I made the false statements, that learned me a lesson; indeed it has—I am 19 years old.

Wednesday, February 18th, 1880.

FANNY MATTHEWS (Cross-examination continued). I have seen Mr. Lloyd since I was under examination yesterday—I have been in the same hone with him—he said nothing about these matters, nor did I say anything to him about it—all that he said to me was that he was subpœnaed as a witness—he did not say anything about the way in which I gave my evidence, nor did I ask his opinion upon any part of it—he did not say for what purpose he was to be called—I did not say a single word about what I had been asked—I mean to tell the Jury that I had no conversation with him about my evidence—I was not with him more than five minutes

in the house where we went in and Had something to drink, the King's Head I think, and then, in company with my father and sister, we Went to St. Paul's Cathedral—when we came Out I left Lloyd, and went to some friends of mine, named Emns, at 6, West Street, West Square—I cannot say at what time I got to West Square, but it was before 8 o'clock—my friends occupy the first floor in the house—Lloyd lives at Primrose Hill—he was not at West Street last night or this morning—I came down here this morning with my father—I was not Walking with. Lloyd this morning to my knowledge, nor was I with him alone—I have seen him down in the waiting-room—I will not swear that I was net walking with him this morning—I have spoken to him this morning—we came across from the public-house together—I do not know if we were alone—I will not swear I have not been talking about this case—he has not been advising me what to say—that is the truth—I have spoken to him—he simply asked where I stayed last night—I went to St. Paul's last evening, and left him in a public-house with my sister and another friend—my father may have talked about my evidence, but I will not swear whether it was in the presence of Lloyd—we were walking through the streets, and not all together—we were in separate parties, and all of us, including Lloyd, were discussing this case—when I made an answer yesterday I did not hear Lloyd, who was standing in the Court, call out "No" to something I said—I heard him say he was not a witness—I said in my evidence that Miss Maclean treated me as a friend rather than a servant—I believed her at the time to be married to the prisoner—I have heard that Mrs. Powell says I was found in bed with the prisoner at the Shrubbery—that was at the time when Miss Maclean was treating me as a friend—I said before the Coroner that Paine and I supplied the deceased's victuals—I have given her food—some days she seemed better and some days worse—it is a fact that she was worse after going to Stratford—I do not remember saying that that was in consequence of Paine being locked up—I do not remember saying "the deceased took a great deal of drink, and would have it"—I know no more than what Paine said—I said "It was chiefly gin she took; it was kept in the bedroom"—when I said, "She would have spirits," I can only say what Paine told me—I have heard her ask for a little spirits—I said that she would have spirits because Paine told me to say so—I knew that I was swearing to a falsehood—if I did tell Mrs. Porter that the deceased would have spirits it was in the deceased's presence; I said it to Miss Maclean—I do not know whether I said that it was refuted by me and Paine—I said by the order of Mr. Samson, "Mr. Paine showed the greatest kindness to the deceased;" he did sometimes appear to treat her kindly but not always—I meant to convey what was false for the sake of him, knowing it to be false—I do not remember saying, "She never drank neat spirits;" it is not true; she did drink neat spirits—she was not constantly craving for spirits, both in the absence of Mr. Paine and in his presence—what I mean to say is that she has been forced to take neat spirits in my presence—Paine has poured them out and insisted and said, "Will you do as I tell you and take those"—he has forced it down her throat—before the Coroner I said, "I never saw him give her raw spirits," that was a lie, and I knew it to be a lie when I told it—I was forced to tell it—now I have been telling you all the truth from conscientious motives—everything I have said to-day is true, I have not

told a falsehood intentionally—there is nothing I wish to correct in it—it was about a fortnight after I first entered the prison that my statement was taken—I changed my evidence before the Coroner because I wished to speak the truth—I did not believe it would enable me to escape—I only wished to tell the truth—I saw Lloyd in the gaol several times before I made the statement—I believe it was Lloyd who recommended me to write to the Treasury, but it may have been my sister—I did not see Lloyd alone, as a warder was present, and she heard every word that was said—she was close enough to hear—it was not in a cell—we were not whispering together to my knowledge—I will not swear I did not whisper—Lloyd told me what I was to do was to speak the truth; he did not sty 1 was to lay it all on Paine—we talked the matter over together—I do not know whether his advice was to communicate with the Treasury, and throw the load off my shoulders and put it all on Paine—I do not remember when asked, "Was there much drinking going on?"saying, "Yes; but Paine did all he could to prevent it. She would have drink, but her chief liquor was gin. She sent out for it in bottles," Or "She could not be prevented"—I will not swear I did not say she was a "dirty little devil"—do not press it as I will not swear whether I did or not.

Re-examined. Shortly before we went to London on November 3rd Miss Maclean was not able to wash and dress herself—I had to do all for her—there was no one to send out for gin or other liquor except me—I was in the habit of giving Miss Maclean a bath—her habits were very offend five—I have known Lloyd since May—he is a friend of my sister's—he lives at 5, Angel Bow, near Primrose Hill, with Mrs. Lloyd and one child, and is a builder and decorator—I have been in the habit of going there with my sister—my father was in the Coroner's Court when the Jury found a verdict against me, and he was much distressed—he had come up from the country—Mr. Sampson, a solicitor, appeared for Paine and myself in that Court—my father spoke to me about this matter before I was arrested—I was taken to Newgate, and at that time I had no one to represent me, but afterwards I was told that Mr. Brookes, a barrister, was acting for me—I wrote the following letters: "Newgate, December 20, 1879. Sir,—I am fully prepared to make my statement, and it is my desire to confess the whole truth of what I know from the first day I entered Miss Maclean's and Mr. Paine's service to the day I left him." "Dec. 31, 1879. Sir,—Will you kindly call on me any day at your earliest convenience, as I have something more to say to you"—and I afterwards made a further statement—a gentleman came down and took it—I had no idea that I was to be called as a witness—I did not know that I was about to be acquitted until the case was opened—when I left the Court last night I was with my father, my sister, and three others—Mrs. Ems and her niece, Minnie Wrightson, and Mrs. Bill—they came from Broadway—I do not remember whether I went into two public-houses—Lloyd came in, but he went out directly with my father—my father and mother stayed at a lodging-house—I met Lloyd this morning with my sister as I came across to the Court with my father from the public-house opposite straight into Court—if I walked with him it was only across the road, but I don't remember it—I have told the truth—10 the best of my knowledge I have. (The witness's evidence before the Corover was here read.) Parts of that are not true—I don't know if that is the revolver he pointed at me—Miss Maclean once said, when Paine had been

bullying her about not getting up, how could she get up when he crammed her with spirits?—she seemed much distressed—there was an alteration in her manner when Paine came in—she heard him coming—she looked at him and at me, stopped crying, and looked in a good humour and spoke to him.

By MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. When I first went there Miss Maclean had a sort of skin disease on her hands—they peeled all over the back—before I took the situation at the Shrubbery I lived with Mrs. Kirkham, 18, Willis Road, Kentish Town.

by the COURT. Most of the spirits came from Baylis, a grocer, of Broadway—the others came from Mr. Watkins, at Worcester—the largest quantity I have ordered is two bottles, but Paine fetched some—Paine first took liberties with me after the Stratford-on-Avon business; I mean when he was locked up—that happened in the bedroom over the kitchen—there was no intimacy between us in the Shrubbery—that is a spare bedroom—Miss Maclean was in bed in her own room just opposite—it was between 3 and 4 a.m.—Miss Maclean had asked me to sleep there while Mr. Paine was in London, because my bedroom was not fit to sleep in—he slept in Norman's room, the opposite room, over the dining-room—he did not sleep with Miss Maclean after he returned, he said she was so dirty—there are three rooms on that floor—he went to London on 16th October and returned a week alter—I did not know that he was coming into my room—he got into my bed—he remained scarcely five minutes—that was the first liberty—the next was between then and when we came to London—I had been staying up part of the night with Miss Maclean, and was lying down on the bed in my clothes when he came in—it was the same room and about the same time of night, and it also happened there again—I did not know for certain that we were going to London till the Friday, and we came up on the Monday—Paine said on the Friday that he wanted to come London to bring Miss Maclean for medical advice, and that he had business to do—no intimacy occurred between me and Paine till after we came to London.

WILLIAM LLOYD . I am a bricklayer, of Angus Road, Primrose Hill—I have known Matthews eight months; her sister Mary had been to my house more than once; Fanny Matthews came to my house on Sunday, November 16, with Paine; her sister was staying with us; Matthews, in Paine's presence, said that he was her master; I had not previously known him; they stayed a quarter of an hour, and he went out with Mary while tea was getting ready; they came back; Paine threw himself on my bed, and complained of pains in his head; he stayed there till tea was ready, when he got up and took some with us—during tea Paine drew a revolver and presented it at Fanny Matthews; he did not say anything; I told him to put it away; Mrs. Lloyd and Mary shrieked; Fanny said, "If I had known you had that thing I would not have come out with you"—the chambers were loaded; I saw a bullet shine; he took them out and put the barrel in his coat pocket, and the chamber in his breast pocket—I believe this is the pistol, and I believe he told me there were seven barrels—he did not tell me where he was going when he left; he said he thought he was going to take Mary away to nurse his wife—I did not see any more of him till the inquest, when a verdict was given against him and Fanny Matthews—her father went with me and visited her in Newgate—the warder was present—I got a statement of Matthews's evidence from

the Treasury—I was acting for her father—I did not at first rot the statement—I got a letter written and sent it to her father, who signed it and it was sent from Worcester to the Treasury, and then we got the evidence; this is the letter (produced)—I did that partly on my own account—I got a further statement from Newgate of the witnesses—I in. structed Mr. Brooks to appear for her—I was acting as her friend—I did not advise her to throw the blame on Paine—I told her to tell the truth—I did not know until Monday that she was to be acquitted.

Cross-examined. When I saw her in Newgate the first time she had not sent her statement to the Treasury—she did so by my advice, with the purpose of her telling the truth and clearing herself—I explained to her the position she was in as the accomplice of Paine, and that it was that which put her in danger—her object would be to clear herself from that imputation—she told me she was acting under Paine's control—we did not go lengthily into the matter—I told her to tell all, good or bad—I told her that if she showed she acted under Paine's control it would pat her in a better position—I had the statements of the witnesses, but had only read that of Mr. Norman Maclean—I was at the inquest, but did not hear Mrs. Powell give her evidence—I saw Matthews six or seven times in Newgate—the female warder must have heard what I said—I could not tell whether Paine was drunk or sober when he presented the revolver at Matthews—I have not heard Fanny Matthews's evidence this morning; I have been in the further Court—we were not together last night—when we went out of this Court I left her, and did not see her any more till this morning—that is the truth—I saw her this morning at the bottom of the Court here ready to come in, not in the Court, at the bottom of the stairs—I first saw her outside the Court in the road and went up to her, but I don't believe I spoke to her till she got inside the doors of the Court, into the hall—she was with her sister and father.

Re-examined. I was in front of this building in the Old Bailey—I suppose it was 5 or 10 minutes to 10, and when I saw Fanny, Mary, who was with me, joined her, and I went to a public-house opposite, to have a glass of stout—I remember now that Fanny was in there; we were all in that public-house together—I believe we came out together and stood at the bottom of the hall—yesterday afternoon, when the Court broke up, a lady named Emns was with Fanny, and, I believe, her niece and her mother and myself and her sister and father, and one or two more friends, who are strangers to me—I never saw any more of them, I was kept up here to make a bit of a statement, and when I went down I missed the best part of them, and I learned that Fanny's mother and one or two of them had gone to St. Paul's—I did not go outside the Court at all till after I made the statement, and then I went out and joined them at the bottom of Ludgate Hill—we stayed about five minutes in the street, and went to St. Paul's to meet the mother and other friends—we went into St. Paul's—I don't remember going into any other place with Fanny Matthews, but I went to a public-house at the top of Newgate Street with a friend, and had a glass of ale—Fanny was not with us then, she was outside the public-house with her father and others—I then went to the station to look for Fanny and her father but could not find them, and I left their tickets there at 4.30 to pass them to Gower Street—I a subpoena yesterday to attend as a witness.

GEORGE SHEPHERD . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons,

practising at Worcester—Paine called on me on 16th September last; that was the first time I had seen him—he asked me to call on his wife at the Exchange public-house, Worcester, where they were staying, to ascertain if she was pregnant, and on the following morning I went and examined her in bed—I found that she was not pregnant—she was much out of health generally—she was suffering from a flatulent distention of the abdomen—she had tenderness over the stomach and liver and pain in the back—her complexion was muddy and her tongue was foul—I afterwards saw Paine in another room—he told me that she had been intemperate, that she had taken stimulants freely, and he asked me to impress upon her that she was injuring her constitution, and I did so—I went back and spoke to her—I saw her again next day, the 18th; I think bus and Paine were together; I did not examine her again—very little passed on that occasion—I found her exactly in the same condition—I afterwards received a letter from Paine—I have not got it—this is my reply, dated the 19th September; I sent it by post, I think to the Shrubbery. (Read: "Dear Sir,—I have carefully examined the water which I received this evening, and am quite sure that it is natural and healthy. I believe your wife 's kidneys are free from disease. From the examination I made the other day I am also certain that pregnancy does not exist. To relieve the pain in the back I suggest that she leaves as all stimulants for a time, keep to the bed or sofa, take a little cooling and slight aperients medicine. I would also recommend her to have, for a night or two, a warm hip bath. I think this will relieve her pain, and very likely bring on the monthly courses. After the bath you may apply a bulla-Donna plaister. You have not sent me your New York Insurance paper, which I am desirous of seeing before' filling up the medical report. I enclose a prescription; please to have it made up at a good druggist's.") Paine had said that he was insured in the New York Company, and that he wished to increase his insurance, but that it would be necessary for him to be re-examined—I had examined him for that purpose—after the examination I made of the lady I formed the opinion that she had indulged too freely in stimulants—I believe the liver was congested—I did not detect any enlargement of it—in her condition it would certainly not be a proper thing for her to take raw spirits.

Cross-examined. I should not recommend raw spirits to anybody—if a person is addicted to drink, it is most difficult to restrain them—I have found it so in my practice—I don't know that it is more so with females—the lady was deformed—I don't think that would interfere with any certain conclusion—I did not observe any blue spot on her side—I did not notice any eczema on her hands—my impression is that her skin was clear and clean—eczema might be the result of long habits of drinking—it is so with some people; it is not invariable—I thought her symptoms showed that her liver was congested, as her other organs were—there was total loss of appetite—she did not appear at all emaciated or badly fed; rather otherwise, I think—her tongue was white and coated, not at all blistered—by taking spirits and abstaining from food she might have her tongue ulcerated—Paine said in his letter that there was no improvement in her symptoms—when I cautioned her as to the danger of continuing spirits she said very little—she said, "Very well," that was all—she did not give me the least reason to think that, being addicted to intemperate habits, anybody induced her to continue them—she did not deny that she was so

addicted—she never suggested that anybody persuaded her—there was nothing in Paine's conduct to lead me to think that he was a cruel or a harsh husband, or anything in her manner that induced me to think she was afraid of him—I should think the healthy weight of the liver of a woman of her size would be about five or six pounds, rather under than not—I should think it would be under 45 ounces—"Quain's Anatomy" is a book of authority.

FERDINAND BEADLES . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, residing at Broadway—I knew the deceased and also her mother—about 20th or 21st September I was called to the Shrubbery to see Miss Maclean—I can't fix the exact date—the girl Matthews fetched me about 2 o'clock in the morning; I got up at once and went to the Shrubbery, where I saw Miss Maclean in bed—I had no conversation with Paine before I saw her—she was in a very excited state—I thought that perhaps it was due to stimulants—I did not notice anything else in her condition—I prescribed for her—I had conversation with Paine about her, and he was in the room—he said he thought she had taken stimulants—I can't recollect his exact words—I told him that stimulants should be avoided—I saw her again, next day I think; she was then better; I think I also saw her the next day, she was then convalescent—about a month later, I think about 21st October, I was fetched by the girl Matthews about 7 o'clock in the evening—when I got to the Shrubbery I found the deceased in bed, in a state of great excitement; she complained of pain in the abdomen, and also of being occasionally faint—I then also supposed it was due to stimulants—I prescribed for her—Paine was not there on that occasion—I saw her again the next evening but one, the 23rd; I did not see Paine then—she was still under excitement—I prescribed for her—I did not attend her after that—on that occasion Mrs. Porter was nursing here and I gave her directions with regard to her treatment—I ordered her a little weak brandy-and-water if she felt faintness coming on—I believe that was the last time I saw her—on the following morning, the 24th, about 9 or 10to'clock, Paine called on me—I told him that I should prefer her consulting a London obstetric physician, as she imagined herself to be pregnant, and as she was so greatly deformed; that she would have friends in London, and I thought it better that she should be removed to where her friends were and be surrounded by her friends—I understood from him that he would remove her to London—I declined making any examination of her—I saw Paine some time afterwards; he called one evening at my house and said, "I have taken her to comfortable lodgings in London,: and two doctors are attending her, and I have asked them to give a statement of the disease she is suffering from, that it may be sent to her brother in America"—to did not give me the names of the medical men—from what I saw of the condition of the lady I did not think she was in any danger, not in immediate danger at any rate—I supposed her to be Mrs. Paine—I had attended her for an eruption on the face, eczemas perhaps six weeks or a month before the time I was called in in September—I had also attended her for an extraordinary twitching of the muscles of the mouth and neck; that was during the time she had the skin eruption—I thought that might be due to a nervous feeling, she had been bitten by a little dog.

Cross-examined. Eczema may arise from a good many causes—I should hardly say it would result from habits of intemperance—I did not state before the Coroner that Paine told me he had called in two doctors—I did

not examine her heart—a person suffering from fatty degeneration of the heart may die at any moment—her tongue was foul on the 21st or 22nd September—furred—I did not think the pulse feeble; it was rather fast—it may be fast and feeble—the tongue was certainly not in a state of ulceration—I observed no blisters; she made no such complaint—I don't think I mentioned to Miss Maclean the dangerous results of indulging in alcohol—I felt some delicacy about it—I agree with Mr. Shepherd that when a woman has once become addicted to drinking it is most difficult to break her of it—I should not think she would require any forcing to take liquor; if any one said so I should disbelieve it.

Re-examined. I think if a woman took half a tumbler of raw brandy it would cause pain—it might make the mouth raw; it might produce small ulcers or blisters—I did not look underneath her tongue—I told Paine that I thought she ought not to have stimulants—I can 't remember toy remark that he made upon that.

ANN PORTER . I reside at the Broadway, Worcester, and am the wife of Charles Porter—I knew Miss Maclean and her mother—I knew the prisoner first in June last—I was called into the Shrubbery on Saturday, 18th October, and I went there every evening up to the following Thursday—during that time Miss Maclean was ill in bed, and complained of a pain in her side and her chest—I assisted in the attendance upon her, and called in Dr. Beadles—I never saw Mr. Paine till the Wednesday evening, he being away; I then gave him Dr. Beadle's orders, and said I thought it advisable to send for him, as she was in a very low and weak state—I said I had given her a little medicine which Dr. Beadles had ordered, and some weak brandy-and-water, and he said, "That shall be seen to"—that was all that passed then—the next evening I went to see the deceased, and Paine came into the room while I was there—she had been crying very much, and I asked her what was the matter—she said he had been very cross with her all day—she asked for something to drink—Paine said "I suppose you want some more brandy?"—she said "No, I do not"—he said "She has drunk a bottle of brandy since I came home last night"—she did not speak at all in reply—I said to Mr. Paine "You should not have given it her; you have exceeded Dr. Beadle's orders altogether"—he said "It is her own money, and let her have it," and left the room—that was between 8 and 9 in the evening—I was in the room about half an hour—I saw no spirits except a little drop, about a wineglassful, which Paine showed me at the bottom of a three-half-pint bottle which he took out of the top part of the wardrobe—after he left the room I helped to get her into bed, she having been on the couch, and then I went home—she could not then stand without support, nor could she do so on either of the previous days that I was there—she asked me to go again, and I went on the following Friday, but was not admitted—I saw Fanny Matthews—I never saw Miss Maclean again.

Cross-examined. I slept there on Tuesday night, the 18th, and left at 4 or 5 a.m., and returned at 8 or 9, and stayed an hour or two—on Monday and Tuesday night I was there all night—Fanny Matthews was also in charge of her, and had to give her anything she asked for—I went there on Saturday night, and Paine did not come until Wednesday evening—I never saw her the worse for drink—she had pains in her chest, and she was fretting a good deal about Paine being away squandering and wasting her property—I never heard her ask for liquor, more

than weak gin-and-water—it was supplied to her weak, and she never complained that it was not strong enough—she did not in the least give me the impression of having been a drunkard, and I never heard that she was not a sober person, but I heard Fanny Matthews say that Paine should not dose her as he had done—I asked her what she meant by "dose her"—she said, giving her the spirits so strong as he did—I have not spoken to Fanny Matthews this morning, nor has she spoken to me—I spoke to her on the day she was released from prison—I did not remind her of that conversation—Fanny Matthews gave the deceased weak gin-and-water the same as I did, if she asked for it, which was every hour or so—I did not give it to her, or see it given to her, three or four times an hour—Mr. Paine said on the Thursday night that she had drunk a whole bottle of brandy from the night before, from the night he came, from Wednesday night to Thursday night—he said that in her presence (I was at home on the Wednesday night)—I afterwards said to her "Why do you take the brandy? I would not take it," and then she said "He makes me drink it"—during the time I was with her she showed no inclination for raw spirits, and she never had any—I did not know of any raw brandy being there—I believe she was a perfectly sober woman, and I believe be now, notwithstanding what Matthews told me—I did not know Mist Maclean till April last.

RICHARD STEPHEN TAYLOR, JUN . I am one of the firm of Taylor and Sons, Solicitors, of Gray's Inn—on Monday, November 10, Mrs. Wilson called on me, and I made arrangements to go to 128, Seymour Place, where Miss Maclean then was—I arrived at about 3 p.m.—I went up into the room where the deceased was, with Mrs. Wilson—I had known Miss Maclean for many years professionally—she was in bed—she appeared to be exceedingly weak, so weak that she could scarcely hold her handkerchief in her hand—I went to make her will, but she was not in a fit state and I came away without her doing so—the day following her death I saw her, and placed myself in communication with the Coroner.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Wilson told me that Miss Maclean wished to make her will, but when I saw her she was utterly unfit to give any directions—she was under the delusion that Paine was lying in the bed with her—she said, "Poor fellow! he had gone out early; he is lying there and has gone to sleep"—she was quite unconscious of what she said—she was possessed of a very small annuity from the East India Company—she was very weak, but her mind was perfectly clear—she was suffering under the extraordinary delusion that Paine was in bed by her side, therefore she was not fit to make a will—she was the very reverse of appearing to be in terror of him.

By the COURT Paine was not in the room or in the house, I know, because I met him on my way home—I had known the lady all her life—I never heard a word about her taking to drink till after her mothers death, I always thought she was sober—my firm had been for many years the family solicitors before my time—I had never acted for her personally—I never saw Paine till he came with Miss Maclean one day in August to sign the transfer of a mortgage—Paine then said they were going to be married soon, and discussed the terms of the marriage settlement—we had some trouble and correspondence through not knowing whether she was married or not—the terms of the marriage settlement were discussed—I never prepared the settlement—I think Paine sent it to us in draft.

EDWARD POWELL I keep a coffee-house at 128, Seymour Place, Marylebone—I have lived there twelve mouths last August, with my wife—in November last we had a servant named Ann Slaughter—in March or April last Paine came to my house with his wife, the one in Quebec Street, and two children—they stayed five days—J did not know him before—I saw him twice between that time and the November following—on those occasions he came alone and had a bedroom—at the end of October he sent me to take care of a large wooden box, like an ordinary travelling one—on Monday, 3rd November, I received this letter: "Dear Sir,—Will you kindly send the heavy box I sent to you to No. 9, Great Quebec Street, with the enclosed letter; also get a bedroom ready for to-morrow night, Monday, and oblige yours truly, Lewis James Paine." A letter was enclosed addressed to Mrs. Paine, 9, Great Quebec Street, and I sent the box and the letter there at 10 or 11 a.m.—on the same day, about five o'clock, a cab came to my door, and I saw the prisoner, Fanny Matthews, and a lady in it—Paine asked me if I had received his letter that morning—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Have you a bedroom?" and I said, "Yes"—he said, "I have had a little trouble lately, and I hire with me an invalid lady who is entrusted to my care, with money: it will pay us well, as there is money in it; you won't have her in your house long; she is very ill; I think she is dying now"—he asked if I would get her carried upstairs—I then went to the cab—the lady appeared very ill, and said, "Oh, dear, "Or something—I took her in my arms—it seemed to hurt her to move her—I carried her up to the bedroom, the back room on the first floor—I laid her in an arm-chair—I can't remember whether she said anything—Fanny Matthews had come up, and the servant was lighting the fire, or had just lighted it—I then left the room—my wife was at home—about ten minutes after I left the room I saw Paine going away—he said, "I have brought her up to get a certificate for her"—he did not tell me where he was going, or when he would return—the next day I saw him at 9 or 10 in the morning—he came downstairs and asked me to change a cheque, giving me one of his own on the Union Bank for 4l.—I gave him 3l., and he told me to keep the 1l. balance on account—he said, "I want the money to go out to buy Matthews a jacket, she has been so kind to her mistress"—Matthews was, I think, then upstairs—shortly after Paine went out with some one—I don't know who it was—I and my wife then went to Miss Maclean in the bedroom—that was about eleven in the morning—she was in bed—I don't remember seeing any one with her—I noticed two tumblers on the table near the right-hand of the bed—some spirits appeared to be in them, and my impression was that it was either brandy and whisky or brandy and rum—in one glass there was brandy and in the other rum, the colours being different—each tumbler was more than half full—I put them both on the mantelpiece—I and my wife spoke to Miss Maclean, and she replied—she appeared to be very distressed—I was not in the room more than five or ten minutes—she spoke to me in a rather wandering way—I did not see her again that day, but I think I saw Paine in the afternoon—he went away on Tuesday, the 11th, to Worcester, as he told me, and came back on the Saturday evening, when I had some conversation with him after he had been upstairs—I said to him that Miss Maclean had been asking for something to drink—he said, "Oh, let her have all she wants; it is a sin to prolong such a life as that"—upon that he left the house—this conversation

occurred about 7 in the evening—I did not make any reply when he made that observation—he did not tell me what he went to Worcester for—I saw Miss Maclean on several occasions while he was away—she remained in bed and was very ill—I do not remember seeing her up—I was in the bedroom once when Paine was there—I think it was after his return from Worcester—Dr. Thorman and my wife were also present—I had only looked in, and meant to go out, when Paine stopped me—he said, "I want you to hear this; I want to get at her"—he then poured something out of a bottle into a tumbler; it appeared to be spirits, and said, "Now, Annie deary, I want you to take this"—I don't remember what she said in reply, but she took it very reluctantly—Paine then said to Dr. Thorman, "I want you to hear this. Now, Annie deary, what did Norman give you for his share of the house in Eastbourne Terrace?"—she answered directly, "Six hundred pounds"—Paine said to her, "You are an artful little devil"—that is all I remember—I don't remember what sort of a bottle it was that he pointed the stuff out of; I did not take particular notice of it—I do not remember how much was poured into the tumbler—Miss Maclean during that time was sitting in a chair—I was with her about an hour before she died, on Monday, 17th, at 9 in the evening—I had seen her on the Sunday, when she seemed more herself—she did not then appear to wander so much in her mind—I sat with her below she died—she then seemed to be rather anxious about her end—Dr. Thorman had been attending her—he was called in on Thursday, the 6th, and he came daily from that time—I did not know him before—Mr. Waller was our doctor, and I recommended Mr. Paine to get him before Dr. Thorman came, Mr. Waller having attended me during a fever—this was on the Wednesday—I told Paine that I would fetch him—I asked him whether he was not going to get a doctor, and he said, "She has seen several doctors"—that was on Wednesday or Thursday morning—when I offered to fetch Mr. Waller he said he would get one himself, and soma time in the afernoon he came with Dr. Thorman—I called in Mr. Waller about 9 o'clock in the evening of the same day—I did it at the suggestion of my wife—Mr. Waller saw Miss Maclean that evening, and I believe he spoke to her, but he declined to attend her as another medical man was attending—he was called in again on Sunday night or Monday morning at 1 o'clock—I saw Paine about a quarter of an hour or 10 minutes before the deceased died—two females were with him; one of them he introduced to me as his daughter—I don't remember his saying anything to me about the other—they were in the bedroom—I should think each of them was nearly forty years of age—I heard the lady whom Paine introduced as his daughter ask if there was not a doctor attending Mis Maclean, and he said, "Yes, two"—about that time I left the room—I saw the ladies shortly after on the doorstep—I then went up to the bedroom again; and Miss Maclean did not live 10 minutes after—I saw Paine with the ladies, and he went with them, and in less than 10 minutes afterwards Miss Maclean was dead—I was paid 3l. 10s. altogether; part of it, 2l. 10s., being for damage to the room—there were nurses employed who sat up with the lady at night—I charge ordinary persons 2s. 6d. or 3s. per night for this room.

Cross-examined. There has been no money question between me and Paine since this lady died, that I remember—I made a claim—I asked

Mr. Paine in the street for it; I met him one day accidentally—I asked him for what was due to me—I asked him to pay my bill, I did not ask him for any particular sum—he had had one bill—I should have been satisfied at the moment if I had had that; I thought it was better to have some than none—I don't remember the amount I gave him first, he knows it—it may have been about 3l.—the other bill was 10l. 4s. 10d., that included all—I don't exactly remember what he said when I asked him for it in the street—he said I should have it by-and-by, something to that effect—I did not apply to him again for it—I saw him shortly afterwards and he told me I was to apply to Mr. Taylor, of Field Court, for it—I did apply—I did not get it then, I have got it from Dr. Maclean, that was perhaps a month or six weeks before I gave my evidence before the Coroner—I mean the inquest was perhaps a month before—Mr. Humbert had told me he would see Br. Maclean about it, and probably he would pay me—I did see Dr. Maclean—I am quite sure I had given my evidence before that—it would be six or seven weeks after I had given my evidence at the inquest that I received the money from Dr. Maclean—I am not quite sure as to the date, it was about three weeks ago—I have perhaps said some things to-day that I did not say at the inquest—I can't remember I and my wife having a row with Paine in the inquest room about the money—I won't say we had not—I don't remember; that I swear—I said before the Coroner "Paine asked the deceased what she gave Norman for his share in the house"—that is true—I may not have said before the Coroner that Paine repeated the words twice, "I want you to hear this"—when I say that the deceased took the spirits reluctantly, I mean she did not wish to take it, she offered some objection to taking it—I don't remember anything she said—I know by what I saw that she did not want to take it—I may not have stated that before to-day—I am not thoroughly acquainted with my evidence before the Coroner, not all of it—I have not studied it—I have not read it—I read it at the time but not since—I omitted that, because I was never asked—I saw him force the spirits on her that once—I heard it from the deceased's own lips—I think it is all in my wife's evidence, something to that effect—she was examined before me—my house is a perfectly respectable one.

Re-examined. My wife may have been examined two or three times at the inquest—I was not under examination more than five or ten minutes—the Coroner asked me questions, and I answered them, and Mr. Pridham examined me—Dr. Maclean called at my house one Sunday two or three weeks back, and paid my bill—that was some weeks after the inquest.

By the COURT. I am not quite certain whether the words Paine said to the deceased were, "What did Norman give you, "Or "What did you give Norman" for his share in the house—I gave it right in my evidence before the Coroner.

JANE POWELL . I am the wife of Edward Powell—I remember Paine coming to our coffee-house, 128, Seymour Place, last April or May, with his wife and two little daughters—he stayed a few days—I had never seen them before—between then and November Paine came to the house twice—the prisoner's wife was about 80 or 32 years of age—the children were, one 7 or 8, and the other 4—I remember a very heavy box coming either on the Friday or Saturday prior to the 3rd of November, addressed

to Mr. Paine, "care of Mr. Powell"—it was three feet long and 18 inches high, and was taken away by my husband in accordance with the in structions of a letter which came on the Monday morning, asking that it might be forwarded to 9, Great Quebec Street—she also get a bedroom ready, and between 4 and 5 Paine arrived in a cab with Matthaws and Miss Maclean—I had never seen the two women before—Paine came into the shop and asked for my husband—he said, Had I got another room ready?—I said, "No, I am quite full"—he said that he had an invalid lady entrusted to his care, with money, and a maid to look alter her. "She is very ill and likely to die. I will not leave her in your house many days," Or words to that effect—he asked my husband to can you her upstairs—he carried her like a baby, and placed her in an arm-chair before the fire in the first floor back room—she groaned very much—I said, "You appear very ill; would you like something after travelling?"—there was a great smell with her of spirits—she said she would like a cup of tea or a hot glass of whisky-and-water—I told Paine I had no whisky, and asked him if I was to get some—he said, "No, she does not want anything, if she has anything it must be milk-and-water"—I said that I should get a cup of tea—he said, "No, she does not want say. thing; you know, Annie, you won't drink it"—I then left the room and sent the servant up with a glass half or three parts full of milk—before that Paine came down as the cab was still at the door—he said he had brought her up to get a certificate for her—he left her, and I did not know he had returned until on going upstairs I heard high words in the room—I went in and saw the lady in her chair, and Matthews in another char crying—Paine was there also—I did not go in—I said, "I just wanted to see if you wanted anything on the fire"—Paine said sharply, "No; we don't want anything," and I withdrew—he went out again, and later on I was fetched up to see the deceased by Fanny Matthews—it was wet time after 10—the deceased was lying on her face on the floor, apparently in a fit—she had only her chemise and one stocking on; no other clothes—I gave my servant 2 1/2 d., and sent her for half-a-quartern of gin—I mixed a little with sugar and hot water, and went on my knees on the floor and lifted up her head and brought her round—we then lifted her into bed—there was no night-dress for her to put on, because Fanny said that Mr; Paine had the keys—there were two boxes and two portman teas, but they were all looked—having put her into bed I left her and looked in again about 11, but did not speak—Fanny Matthews was lying on the bed in her clothes alongside of the deceased, and I thought she was asleep—I lifted the deceased into bed because she was helpless from weakness, not from intoxication—on the next day, Tuesday, 4th November, about 9 o'clock, I popped out of the closet and saw Paine on the stairs with his arm round Fanny Matthews's neck, whispering something—he said that he had been to sleep at his sister's and had been taken very bad—I left them on the stairs—Paine came down a few minutes after and asked my husband to change him a cheque for 4l.—my husband only had 3l. by him, and Paine said that would do—he was going out to buy Fanny a jacket, as she had been so kind to her mistress, and as he passed me he said, "Don't you think she deserve it?"—I said, "If she has been good to her mistress."—they went out together about 10 o'clock and deceased was left alone—after this my husband and I went up into the deceased's room—as far as I knew she had not had any breakfast that

morning—I found her lying in bed playing with her fingers—there were two tumblers of spirits in the room, one of brandy and the other I believe was rum or whisky—they were half-pint tumblers and rather better than three-parts full, and were on a table touching her elbow—my husband removed the glasses—there were two or three grapes in a plate—in consequence of what deceased said I took her up a small basin of gruel, with a measured tea-spoonful of brandy in it—she ate the gruel—I went up again at twelve o'clock—neither Fame nor Matthews had returned—I took her up some stewed rabbit which was part of the hours dinner—Paine had brought in a lot of rabbits and hares, and had given me one of each, saying that he must give me one as I had had so much trouble—the deceased ate it and enjoyed it—about 3 o'clock Matthews came back—I did not see Paine that, evening till about 10 o'clock—he was then standing—at the door as I came in from the oil-shop—he said, "I am going now, Mrs. Powell, Fanny will look after her ail neat"—I said; "Very well, sir"—Fanny came running down, and he said to her, "I am going to order them things, can you go and fetch them?"—Fanny said, "What things?" and he said; "Them things I am going to order?" and he drew her to him, and pulled her dress and gave a nod—she said, "I will go and put on my things now"—Paine then left with a bag or a portmanteau in bis hand—I went into the shop through the dining rooms and met Matthews in the passage—she was dressed in her outdoor clothes and her hat and she followed him—my servant and I went after her and I saw her jam Paine at the corner of Nutford Place, and they went into No. 31 together—they neither of them came back that night—a nurse named Mary Jones was in the house, and she volunteered to sit up with the deceased as I had a young baby—Paine had given no instructions for calling her in—soon after 10 o'clock I went up to the deceased with my husband and Mary Jones—there were two half-pint tumblers more that three parts full of spirits by her bed, and a small bunch of grapes—one of brandy, and I believe the other was whisky—it was very strong—I could not say whether there was any water with it—there was a bottle more than half full of whisky on the mantelpiece—I had not taken it there, or the brandy or the tumblers—my husband put the other tumblers on the mantelshelf and whether my servant thro wed them away I don't know—these were not the same—Fanny Matthews fetched the tumblers when she fetched a corkscrew—I had a conversation with the deceased, and then left her for the night with Mary Jones—the next morning Fanny Matthews came in alone at about 9.45—I had a conversation with her, and then went up to deceased's room with her—Matthews stayed there about half an hour and then left—that was the last time she west Oyer in my house—Paine had not come in when she left—the deceased had not a halfpenny—she sent me to her pocket—Paine came about 12 o'clock—he saw Mrs. Jones, and said to me, "If you don't send that red-nosed old—out of the room I will move my client away. I wont have her here, she knows too much for me"—then I ran upstairs—Paine had gone before me—I said, "You said you were going to leave Fanny Matthews"—he replied; "Didn't she stay?"—I said, "No, she went away directly after you"—I said I would not have allowed the lady to have slept alone in my house in that condition without somebody with her—I don't think he made any reply—the deceased did net join in the conversation with Paine—Paine afterwards came down-to the kitchen—my,

husband asked him why he did not send for a doctor, and he said he would insist on his doing so—my husband recommended Dr. Waller but Paine said he would bring in a doctor of his own—he afterwards went out—he came back in the evening to fetch something, but only stayed a few minutes—Mrs. Jones stayed with the deceased again that night—I had told Paine that I did not know any one but Mrs. Jones, and he would have to let her be with her—he said, She must come in when I'm gone, then"—on Thursday, the 6th, Dr. Thorman came—Paine came in with some gentleman, but I don't know who it was—I saw Dr. Thorman about 6 o'clock in the evening, when he examined the deceased—Paine said, "I have brought a doctor; he is a stranger to me"—Thorman examined the lady as she lay in bed, and then Paine pulled a bottle of rum out of his pocket, and poured about half a tumbler out, and said, "I want to show you her weakness"—he offered it to the deceased, saying, "Come, Annie, dear, I have got a drop of good rum"—she said, "I don't want it, Lewis, I don't want it"—he said, "You artful little devil, you would take it if they were not here"—she took some of it then—she had two good drinks of it—Thorman laughed at it—I remember Thorman telling Paine that she was not pregnant—Paine and the doctor had some drink together in the bedroom—I don't know whether it was brandy or rum—they left together about 7 p.m.—I was not satisfied, so I went down to my husband, and we sent for Dr. Waller, who had attended our family—Dr. Waller came, and went up into the deceased's room—I stayed with the deceased till 12, and my servant, Annie Slaughter, stayed with her for the rest of the night—she could not sit up and she afterwards lost the use of her hands—I remember Paine coming on Friday, between 9 and 10—the deceased was in bed—she could not turn in bed, let alone get out—I told him that I had sent for Dr. Waller, as she was very ill—he said that he supposed Dr. Waller would give him a certificate—I asked him if Dr. Waller should attend her, and he said, No; there was no occasion; he had his own doctor, and that was sufficient—Paine came again in the evening with Dr. Thorman—my servant and I had placed the deceased in an armchair in front of the fire, in a blanket, while I put on clean linen in the bed—Paine began to pull the deceased about, and said, "Oh, she looks very nice, she's all right"—he was putting his hand over her forehead—I said, "Don't, please, Mr. Paine; she is very ill"—he said, "She is all right"—he then sent me down for a corkscrew and some glasses—when I came up he poured out some whisky from a three-half-pint bottle he had brought in with him—he poured some out in each glass—I was going to retire out of the room as my baby was crying, and he said, "Wait a minute, I want you to stop and hear this"—he said, "Come, Annie, dear; I have got a drop of good whisky here, it came from "such and such a place, I forget where—he held it for her to take, and she took it after a while, alter a look that Mr. Paine gave her—she would not take it at first—there was about half a tumblerful of neat whisky—it was uncorked out of the bottle—she drank it all—when he stopped us going out of the room he said, "Waits minute, I want to get at her"—after she took the whisky he said, "come, Annie, I want you to tell me what you gave your brother Norman for the house in Eastbourne Terrace, for his share"—she said, "600l. Mr. Paine answered, "Not 1,600l.?"—she said "No, I tell you 600l"—she spoke distinctly—he said to the doctor, "There, she knows everything,

you see she is all right"—he said to her, "You artful little devil"—I left the room for a minute or two, and when I came back again there were two women there—they were strangers to me—the doctor had left—one of them, an elderly woman, had been doing some washing for Paine, and he asked the other one if she would sit with Mrs. Paine a bit—she said, "No," she could not stand the smell of the sick-room—Paine said "She is a little lady as was kept by a friend of mine," referring to the washerwoman's daughter—I told him the deceased did not want a person like that to sit with her; she wanted a proper nurse—Paine and the younger woman left the room—I had to go away for a few moments, and when I came back the washerwoman was in the act of pouring out some whisky into a tumbler—she was giving it to the deceased when I took it from her—she was the worse for drink when her daughter came back, and they went away together—my servant, Annie Slaughter, sat up with the deceased that night, but Mary Wright argues that the did—on Saturday Paine came again—on Sunday night, the 9th., Mrs. Wilson came—Paine came in about 12 o'clock that day—he only stayed a few minutes—Mr. Fitzpatrick, a clergyman, the tenant of the Eastbourne house, came in the evening, and Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Postlethwaite between 12 and 1 o'clock—I was just going to bed when they rang the bell—Paine came again at about 9 o'clock on Monday and stayed a short time—and again on Tuesday about 9 o'clock—we were sitting in the little parlour having our breakfast—my husband and I and a policeman's wife, Mrs. Bondon, who had been nursing during the day, were there—he said "I am taking her away to Brighton now"—I said, "Why, man, she'll die in the cab; that will be a pretty set out"—he said he would not have that happen for the world—he then asked me if I would, say anything to Fanny Matthews if he brought her back, as she was of great service to him—I don't think I made him any answer—he then said he would go down to Brighton himself, and take Fanny Matthews with him—he added that he would leave the deceased at my house, and would send me a telegram to say the little lady had arrived at Brighton all right—he said, "You can show the telegram to them troublesome friends when they come"—I said, "Why, and this lady in our house dying!"—he said, "She is all right; you can send to me if anything happens"—I said we would do no such thing, and refused to do so—Paine went upstairs for a minute or two, and I followed him to the deceased's room—on Wednesday, the 12th, Paine came in again about 10, and told me he was going down to Broadway by the 2 o'clock train, and would be back next day—I saw him again on Saturday evening, the 15th, and had a conversation with him in the deceased's room—Mrs. Tyson, the nurse, was there—he said he had left Fanny down at Broadway, and had got her a very nice place with the Taylors—I told him the deceased had got quite clear in her mind and quite sensitive, and he said, "Oh, has she?"—he went on telling the deceased where Fanny Matthews was—she asked about her little dog—he said that it was in the care of Matthews's father—previous to that her mind had been wandering at times, and she would talk different things, and her face was blown out, but she had come to her natural look, and her complexion was quite clear—her mouth was very raw; she would not bear a spoon being put in; she said it hurt her tongue and the roof of her mouth—on 15th November I told Paine that her mind was clearer—that was the fact, her mind was quite clear—she never wandered in them

few days, and she had come quite nice-looking in her face, it came quite as it should be, I should think—while the prisoner was away, from the morning of the 12th to Saturday night, the 15th, she had no neat spirits, only weak brandy-and-water, and anything she fancied in the way of nourishment: the middle of a joint, with gravy in it, minced up, or a little bit of a chop—I had to feed her with it like a baby, as she had lest the use of her hands—she had a good many oysters the first week—she liked them, and she had meat between, but very little, and the last week she had a little cornflour food, but she would take very little, because she said the spoon hurt her mouth—on Sunday, 16th November, the day before she died, Paine came about 12 o'clock—he went up a minute or or two before me—I asked him whether he had taken her brooch and earrings, which were on the glass—they were black ones—he said No; what would he do with them?—I said, "They were there on Friday on the glass, I am certain; and as you have taken everything else you might have taken them"—ho flung the window open, and said, "I wish the devil would take her away, as she has been a great trouble to me; I can do no good," and off he went, and I do not think he spoke to the deceased—he did not come back that day—on Monday, the 17th, the day she died, he came about 10 o'clock and brought a young woman with him—I went up to deceased's room, and he said, "I have brought this young woman up from Worcestershire, so she will be a witness"—I said, "A witness for what?"—but he did not answer me—he said, "She can help nurse, and it need not make any difference to our arrangements"—they went away leaving the nurse thaw; they returned about 6 o'clock in the evening—Mr. Thorman also came—Paine then said, "I have brought this young woman up from Worcester. She is a friend of the chemist down there"—I said Mrs. Paine had told me in the morning that the girl was Fanny Matthews's Biter, that they were a bad lot, and that she did not want to have anything to do with them—he made no answer—the doctor was very much alarmed About has because she seemed to be sinking so, and very much convulsed at times—the doctor said that we need not be alarmed, or words to that effect, and that she was likely to live 20 years yet—he had been sitting beside the bed for some time when he said that—I don't know whether he had had any whisky that evening—this was about 6 o'clock, and she died about 9 o'clock—my husband and my servant were with her when she died—I had sent my husband to talk to her about her soul, as she had been a good deal concerned that day—he was with her an hour before she died—I don't knot how long before that Paine had left the house—he went for some beef-tea and came in again about 6 o'clock with two ladies whom I do not know—she was quite conscious to the last, and had been praying very earnestly several times before she died—between Thursday, the 6th, and her death Dr. Thorman came every day, and sometimes twice, but he never prescribed or ordered anything: for her.

Cross-examined. My evidence was taken for the purpose of this trial three weeks since or a little more at the Treasury—I did not receive and her death Dr. Thorman came every day, and sometimes twice, but he never prescribed or ordered anything: for her.

Cross-examined. My evidence was taken for the purpose of this trial three weeks since or a little more at the Treasury—I did not receive a copy of my deposition—I have not seen it or had it read to me since my examination—there may have been some things added to-day to what I said before the Coroner and some things I have forgotten—I did not keep back anything intentionally—my husband and I were not very angry Paine did not pay our bill of 10l., we never quarrelled with him about

it or said anything rude or unkind to him about it—I applied to the Deputy-Coroner to know who was to pay our bill, and he said "Jack Mr. Paine"—I asked him who was to pay the bill—he said "You must ask those who have caused the bother," and afterwards he said "You must apply to Taylor"—the Coroner did not tell me that I must not he squabbling there about money—I was examined before the Coroner only twice—he did not tell me he would not have an altercation in his Court—I did not get the money from Paine—Paine did not state Mote the Coroner that he gave me a rabbit and a hare, nor did I scream out that it was a lie—that was in the newspapers, but I did not—it was Mrs. Jones, the nurse, who sat behind me in the Court, that said it was a his—I do not remember whether I mentioned before the Coroner that I saw Paine with his arm round Fanny Matthews's nook—I have stated to-day that Paine ordered Mrs. Jones out of the room on the Wednesday, and that she left—I did not state before the Coroner that that occurred on the Thursday, but she stayed till Thursday—I saw two glasses in the room, one containing brandy and the other whisky—on Tuesday morning, between 10 and 11, and again at night, a little after 10 o'clock—my husband removed them to the mantelpiece—I do not know who removed them from the room, but I did not see them in the afternoon these at night were brandy and whisky—I smelt them—I did not taste either—my husband was present in the evening when I saw the two glasses—I do not remember whether I said a word before the Coroner about Paine's ordering Mrs. Jones out of the room, and calling her a "red-nosed——"—I was perfectly well aware of the terms on which Paine was with "the girl Matthews, after watching them to Nutford Place on Tuesday night—when he talked of taking her down to Brighton I knew that he was a married man, and I said that if I knew her father's address I would write to him, but I made no observation to him, as it was of no use—on the night of 3rd November Matthews said the deceased had been drinking for five or six weeks, and ate nothing—on that day I found the deceased lying on the floor, and asked Matthews who she was; she said "She is Paine; she was married to Paine at the church in our village"—she was pulling off her stockings very roughly indeed—she said that she had been drinking, and called nor a nasty dirty beast, and said it was her own fault—I asked her once why she did not give her something to eat—I did not tell her that I had been feeding her while she was out—she said, "Bless you, she has been like that for five weeks"—I said, "You don't try her," and she snapped up the little bit of steak in her hand as much as to say, "I don't want any of your interfering," and went upstairs—when I said to her "I thought you wore this lady's servant," she replied, "Indeed I am not"—I said that I would not have such goings on in my house; meaning the lady being neglected and bar going out to sleep with Paine—she told me not to fret myself; they were not going to stay—I said, "If you are going to have care of the lady I will put a detective on your track"—I know that fanny Matthews said my statement was a lie, but I say that her's was and it is, and that is the truth—we keep an sating-house, but Paine never said that the lady was to have anything she wanted, both to eat and drink—he never ordered anything—I gave the lady food and drink, but I had no orders from say body—I did supply her with everything she wanted—the first time I saw Dr. Norman Maclean was when we came out from before the Grand Jury

about a month ago—I had no talk with him about the case—we had given our evidence to the Treasury a fortnight before—Paine brought the lady on November 3rd, and I saw him on the 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th—I saw him up to the Thursday following every day, and then he went down to Worcester on the Wednesday, and was away till Saturday night—that was the Saturday before her death—she ceased to wander a few days before she died—she was wandering up to the time when Paine went away—I can't say whether her face was then still in a bloated condition—on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday she was all right—her face became natural before her death—each day her mind seemed to be getting clearer—Paine gave her spirits in my presence on Thursday and Friday, the 6th and 7th, in the presence of the doctor—those are the only days I ever saw him give her spirits—on each of these days I saw him bring in a bottle, but on no other day—Fanny Matthews was hardly ever in—the deceased appeared very much swollen in the body—I don't think Paine was ever alone with her after his return from Worcester—a great change took place before death—I noticed it on the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—she began to be better in her mind on Friday, but she was more sinking in appearance on that day, and on Saturday and Sunday—she complained of pain in her right side and in her feet, and gradually sank—Dr. Thorman saw her every day—I am quite serious in stating that Dr. Thorman said she might live twenty years; those were his words—I don't know what made him say that.

Re-examined. I have forgotten to state that on the Saturday week before the deceased died I told Paine that the doctor said she was to hare no more drink, as she had been very much convulsed in the night, and after that he did not give her any more in my presence—Dr. Maclean paid me 10l. odd, including washing, nurses, and everything.

ANNIE SLAUGHTER . In November last year I lived at Mr. Powell's—I was the only servant—I remember Paine, Fanny Matthews, and the deceased lady coming there on Monday, the 3rd No? ember—I went into the bedroom that evening—the deceased was supplied with some milk—the next morning Fanny Matthews and Paine went out together—he told me as he passed me on the stairs that Fanny had been a good girl to her mistress, and he was going to take her out to buy her a jacket—he also said I might go into the room and see to the fire, that he would not be long, and that the deceased lady would not want anything besides what she had got on the table by the side of her—while Fanny and Paine were out I went into the room—the deceased was in bed, and there were two tumblers with spirits in them on a table close to the bed—I think one glass was three-parts full and the other full—one glass looked like brandy and the other like rum—I spoke to Mr. Powell about it—the lady was awake—there were some grapes lying on the table—in the evening, while I was at work, Fanny Matthew came to me and made a communication to me—a little after she went out and I followed her with Mrs. Powell, and saw her go into 31, Nutford Place with Paine—I don't remember seeing anything of Miss Maclean on the Wednesday when Fanny went away, Mrs. Powell attended to her—on Thursday I heard Paine say to Mr. and Mrs. Powell that he did not like Mrs. Jones being in the room, and that if she did not leave he would—he said she had grossly insulted him by saying this case was like the Penge mystery—Mrs. Jones left the next day—on Thursday and Friday night

I sat up with Miss Maclean—she was very ill—she could not feed herself and I gave her some food, which Mrs. Powell supplied for her, and a little weak brandy-and-water—I did not see any more spirits near the bed—on Sunday I took Miss Maclean some beef-tea—Paine asked me 01 that day whether Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Fitzpatrick, who had been then before, had called again—I said, "No"—in the week before Miss Maclean died I asked Mr. Paine if he had taken a brooch and earrings away, as they could not be found—he said, "I wish the devil would take her away, and I could not find her"—on the Sunday night before she died I stayed with the deceased, who was very ill, and I called Mr. and Mrs. Powell up to see her—the next day I did not go into the room till the evening—Paine came in with two ladies—he said one was his daughter—he did not say who the other was, but she said there was something very wrong the matter with the deceased—Paine replied that she had had doctors, and they all said the same thing about her—she died shortly after that, about 10 minutes past 9—I had my work to attend to—there were nurses there who attended to her besides Mrs. Powell; there was Mrs. Jones, Miss Wright, Mrs. Bowden, and Mrs. Tyson—they all, at different times, stayed with her.

Cross-examined. I don't remember on what day the conversation occurred about the earrings—I and Paine were in the room—Mrs. Powell came in directly after, after he had expressed this wish about the devil, and I dare say I told her of it—the brooch and earrings were found under the dressing-table, having apparently fallen down—the deceased had everything she wanted to eat—I attended to her all I could, and so did Mrs. Powell and the nurses—she had every attention paid to her—Paine went away on the Wednesday and came back on Saturday—she seemed a little better while he was away—as far as I know, she had no drink given her, only a little weak brandy-and-water—some castor-oil was taken up, but I can't remember when—I don't know whether it was on the day that Mrs. Wilson came.

MARY JONES . I am living now at 17, Exclusion Square as cook—on Tuesday, the 4th November, I happened to be at Mrs. Powell's, and I remained up that night with the deceased—she was very ill—I gave her some gruel, nothing else—on Wednesday morning I saw Paine—he came up into the room—I took up some jugged hare for Miss Maclean, and he told me she did not want any, and I must take it down—I told him if we did not feed the lady it would be like the Penge affair—he said nothing more—I then left the jugged hare on the table, and went downstairs—I don't know whether the hare was eaten by the deceased—she told me not.

Cross-examined. I don't know whether I am the lady whose nose was spoken of so disrespectfully by the prisoner—when Mrs. Powell told me that he said he would kick me out of the house, I said I should like to make it hot for him—I said that I would make a Penge affair of him—I did not mean that I would like to hang him—I should only have told him what I thought of him—I would have expressed my opinion of him.

ROSE WEIGHT . I am the wife of Frederick Wright, a railway porter, of 19, Little Carlisle Street, Lisson Grove—I am a charwoman, and have been in the habit of working for Mrs. Powell—I had been working there from the 3rd—I saw the deceased on the 4th, but on the 7th I attended on her, and stayed till the following Saturday—she was very ill—I was with

her on the night of Saturday, the 8th, and the whole of Sunday, the 9th—Paine came into the room about midday on Sunday—he sail to me "What sort of a night has the lady had; has she been asking for any. body in the night?"—I told him that she had—he asked me who she had been asking for—I told him that she had wished very much to set a person of the name of Ellen—he swore, and said "D——the old b——she's the one that taught her to drink; above all people don't let Ellen come into the room, or near her"—I told Paine the lady was hungry, and he told me to give her a thumb-piece—I did not know what he meant by that—the lady asked him herself to fetch her something, as she wag hungry—he went away, and in about a couple of hours he came back with some brandy in a black bottle—I suppose it held half a pint—he than said "I've got something that I know she'll like"—he asked me for a tumbler—I gave him one, and he poured out some brandy into the tumbler, making it about three parts full; he then leant over the bedside to the lady, and she said "Lewis, I don't want it"—he said, "You must take it," and he put his hand under her shoulders, held her head up in the bed, and made her drink it, shoved it down, made her take it—after she took it she said it burned her mouth—she then called me to her, and said she was in great pain—Paine was then standing with his elbow on the mantelpiece—I said to him "Sir, what is it that you have given her?"—he said "It's British brandy, would you like to taste it?"—I said "No, sir; I'm a teetotaler"—he said brandy was good for teetotalta—he gave me some—it burned my mouth, and he told me to spit it out in the fire, and I did so—he made her take all the brandy in the tumbler there was none back in the glass—all that was in the bottle was emptied into the tumbler—the tumbler was about three-parts full—I never saw any more of it after—alter taking it she seemed in very great pain, her eyes were red, and she seemed like a baby, nearly in fits—I rubbed her stomach—she did not ask for anything for several hours after—Paine left in about a quarter of an hour—later the same morning Paine and Mr. and Mrs. Powell came into the room, and I heard them talking about a nightgown, something to law the lady out on.

Cross-examined. When I took the brandy I had been a teetotaller about three weeks—spirits affect my head—I am quite sure my head was not affected that morning—Paine put his arm round her to hold her up, be as he could give it to her—he kept on till the glass was empty—he put the glass to her lips, and did not take it away till he had forced it all down her throat—she was quite unwilling—I told him it was not right to give it to her, but as it was his wife I thought he had a right to do as he liked—it was not my business to interfere—I am married, to my sorrow—he said it would do her good—he did not use violence; it would have been of no use; she could not resist—I thought it was very cruel—I thought it was very brutal—I am not still a teetotaller, I take a drop now and then, when I can afford it—I first told this story of Paine's forcing the brandy down the lady's throat directly I knew it—I told it to Mrs. Wilson when I saw her—it was a little black bottle holding about half a pint—I do not know what a railway bottle is—she was in bed—a little of the brandy ran down outside both sides on her nightgown.

By the COURT. I know that her stomach swelled up, because she asked me to rub it, and I put down the clothes, and turned up her nightgown to do it—that was directly after she told me she was in pain—I felt it was swollen—I stated so at the inquest.

Friday, February 20th.

ANNIE BOWDEW . I lived at 16, Hay's Place, but I have removed—I am the wife of Alfred Bowden, a constable, Metropolitan police—on Monday, November 10th, I called in at Powell's coffee-house about 9 a.m.—Mrs. Powell spoke to me about an invalid lady upstairs—I attended! her afterwards—I first went up between 10 and 11 on the Monday morning, and stayed there all day till between 10 and 11 p.m.—she seemed to "be very well in health, except that she had lost the use of her hands and legs—I saw Paine in the morning before going up, and afterwards in the bedroom in the daytime—I was there when he came into the room with Dr. Thorman—while Mr. Paine was present the doctor said I was to give her very weak brandy and water and plenty of food, and whatever she wished for—Mr. Paine followed the doctor downstairs—Paine came in again in the evening—I don't think he spoke to me—he asked the deceased how she felt—she said she felt very well—in the evening she asked me for some weak brandy and water, and Paine said that he would give it to her—he turned his back to me, and poured a small glass of neat brandy out of a bottle, lifted her head up, and gave it to her—some of it went down her throat and some on her nightdress—he then rinsed the glass and told me I was to give her the brandy and water stronger—it was not strong enough—I told him that Dr. Thorman said she was to have it weak—he said, "Never mind what the doctor says; do as I tell you"—I was there when Mrs. Wilson came, and Dr. Thorman came while she was there—this was on the same Monday evening—Mrs. Wilson came about four or five o'clock—Mr. Taylor was with her, and Mr. Paine came in after a little while—Mrs. Wilson asked Mr. Paine if he was not ashamed of himself to take a poor little deformed orphan away from her home and ruin her, and also to rob her of her money—he said, "She is my wife"—Mrs. Wilson said, "She is not your wife"—Miss Maclean said, "We were married at Gloucester"—Paine then said to Mrs. Wilson, "Who sent for you? these are my apartments, you go out, and don't enter them again till you are sent for"—Mrs. Wilson turned to Miss Maclean, and asked if there was anything she could do for her—Miss Maclean said, "No, no"—Mrs. Wilson said, "Very well, then, I will wish you good-bye; perhaps you will be glad of me when it is too late," and then she and Mr. Taylor left—Dr. Thorman was there, but I do not remember that he said anything—there had been a little conversation between him and Mrs. Wilson before Mr. Paine came in—after they left, Paine told me that if Mrs. Wilson came again I was not to admit her into the room; all that were to go into the room were Mr. and Mrs. Powell, Dr. Thorman, Paine himself, and myself; and if any one else came I was to shut the door in their face—he said, "I have brought her up here away from all her friends and relations, thinking that none of them would ever find her out, and now to think that b——d——has come"—I think that was all that passed—Dr. Thorman had left; he left a minute or two after Mrs. Wilson—after the conversation with me Paine spoke to Miss Maclean, hut I did not hear what he said, and then he left—I think he came back at about 9 o'clock that night—I saw him in the room—he said, "Well, Annie dearie, how are you now?"—she said, "I am very well, thank you, Lewis"—he turned round then and took, something out of a box, and went away—he did not return that night while I was there—I remained until half-past 10 o'clock—during the day I had

attended to Miss Maclean—in the morning she had two oysters, and a little bread-and-butter; at dinner-time she had a little mutton; and at night some stewed rabbit—I got these things from Mrs. Powell—I gave her to drink some weak brandy-and-water and a cup of cocoa—next morning, Tuesday the 11th, I returned about 9 o'clock—Paine was downstairs having a cup of coffee—Mr. and Mrs. Powell were there—Paine said to Mrs. Powell, "I am going to take the little lady down to Brighton"—Mrs. Powell said, "Why, man, she would die on the road"—then he said, "I'll tell you what I will do, I will go down to Brighton and take apartments for Fanny and myself, and send you a telegram to say that the little lady and I have arrived all right, and then you can show it to her troublesome friends when they call"—Mrs. Powell said, "I will do no such thing"—Paine then went upstairs, and Mrs. Powell followed him—Paine came down in about five minutes, and then I went up—Dr. Thorman then came up; I was in the room—I afterwards saw Mr. Paine downstairs with the doctor in the morning—Dr. Thorman told me in his presence I was to go on giving her weak brandy and water, and let her have whatever she wished for to eat—the doctor then walked down the shop, and Paine said to me, "She wants nothing of that, all she wants is brandy" (the doctor was then out of hearing) "and you must give it her stronger"—I said, "You know what the doctor said, that she was not to have it so strong"—he said, "If you do not do as I tell you I must remove the patient away"—I turned round and went upstairs—that was between 10 and 11—I saw him again in the afternoon—he came up into the bedroom, and asked Miss Maclean how she was—she said she felt very well, and she asked me to give her a little brandy and water—Paine poured out a wineglass of brandy from a quartern flat bottle which was on the dressing-table before he came into the room, and crave it to her—he put his hand under her head and lifted her up—she said, "I don't want that," but he said, "You must take it," and then he poured it down her throat—there was a tumbler on the table with a little weak brandy-and-water in it, and he poured more brandy into it, and said, "Give her that; that is how she likes it"—I had mixed that in the tumbler, it was about half full, and he nearly filled it—he emptied all that was in the bottle—the bottle was nearly full—there was nearly a quartern in it—when he poured the brandy down, her hands hung down useless—after he had filled up the tumbler he left the room when he left the room, I emptied most of it, and filled the glass up with water—the deceased then seemed to be suffering from the effects of brandy—she was rambling in her talk—Mr. Paine came about 9 that night—he gave her a small wineglass of neat brandy from the bottle the dressing-table—he raised her head as before—she swallowed some and some ran down her night dress—I left that night at 11.15—during that day I had given her oysters and mutton—I saw her once or twice during the week, when I called to see how she was—I did not attend to her then—Mrs. Tyson was attending upon her—she seemed pretty well in her mind.

Cross-examined. Since the inquest I have several times seen Mrs. Powell, Rosa Wright, Annie Slaughter, Mary Jones, and Louisa Tyson they were all at the inquest—I have not been living with Mrs. Powell—I don't know that I have seen them all together, but I have seen. them and have had conversations with them about this matter—I told the Coroner about Paine telling me to give the brandy strong—I knew that

what was in the bottle was neat brandy—I did not taste it, but Mrs. Powell told me it was brandy; she supplied it—I first mentioned the story about the little woman being taken to Brighton at the Treasury—when I talk of Paine pouring the brandy down her throat, force was not required, as she had not the use of her hands—I saw Mrs. Powell leave the Court yesterday, but did not speak to her—I bought a paper this morning, but I have not had time to read it, I do not know what she said—I was in atten dance when Mrs. Wilson came—I don't think she was abusive—I think Mr. Taylor was outside the door when Mrs. Wilson was talking to Paine—I only know of one tumbler containing brandy-and-water when I came in the morning between 9 and 10—I do not know of one containing castoroil—I never saw any castor-oil—I only know of the one containing brandy-and-water—if there had been two tumblers with brandy and castor-oil I should have seen them—whatever she asked for she had.

By the COURT. The first bottle was emptied into the tumbler; the brandy that was put into the wineglass later in the day had been supplied again.

LOUISA TYSON . I had apartments at Mrs. Powell's—I am a laundress—I was living there when Miss Maclean was in the house—I assisted in nursing her—I began to do so on the evening of Tuesday, November 11—I sat up all night with her, and continued to nurse her up to the following Sunday morning—I saw her again on the Monday, when she died—on the first night she took weak brandy-and-water, and something to eat—Paine was not then there—on the Wednesday morning I gave her some food—she was not able to feed herself, as she had no use in her hands—I fed her with a spoon—on that morning Paine came in between 10 and 11 o'clock—he spoke to her and asked her how she was—she said about the same—he said he was going to the Broadway and asked me if it would be safe to leave her—I said I did not think she was so near death as that—he said he should not be back till 6 the next evening, and asked if it would be safe to leave her all that time; then I made that reply—Miss Maclean was there but she made no remark—he went away, and told her he was going to Broadway, and she asked him what for, and he said, "To see to the house at Broadway"—she said, "Lewis, I think that is all right"—he said, well, he had some business there, and would not be back till next day; but he came back the same day—he only stayed a few minutes—she asked him for something to drink, he said he was going out for some brandy, but he did not bring any brandy with him—did not see him again till Saturday—that was the 15th—I attended her night and day, and gave her what she required—Dr. Thorman came on the Wednesday morning, and ordered weak brandy-and-water—she did not take much—she was satisfied with anything to drink, and did not require raw spirits—Paine came about 8 or 9 o'clock on the Saturday—I was in the room, and Mr. and Mrs. Powell came up—Paine went and spoke to her, and said he had just come from Broadway, and that he had left her little dog there—she turned away her head—he told me, when I was going to give her some brandy-and-water which was on the table in a tumbler, that it was not strong enough; and he went to take the bottle to put some more brandy in, but there was not any—he told me to go down to Mrs. Powell to get some more—he, I, and the deceased were then together in the room—I did not go then, because I thought the brandy-and-water quite strong enough—he said she could

take more neat brandy than I could brandy-and-water—he said she could take an ounce of laudanum when I could not take a quarter of an ounce—he said nothing about food—he told me before going to Broadway that I was not to let any one see her—he did not stop more than half an hour on the Saturday evening—I stopped all night, and he came in again on the Sunday morning—nothing happened then—I went away for the day and returned at 11 on Monday morning—he asked me if I thought she was dying, and I said yea, I did—the deceased was not then conscious—she was much worse then than on Saturday and Sunday morning—he said it was a sin to prolong such a life—I don't think, any one else was then in the room—he asked me if I would sit up with her that night—I said I could not, and that I did not think she. would require anybody—I said so because I believed she would be dead before night—the doctor came and Paine was present, and the doctor said she was very bad—he went out and returned about half-past twelve, and brought with him a young woman—he said she was the daughter of a friend of his in Broadway, and that he had brought her as a witness—Dr. Thorman had asked me to stay with her that day—later on I went downstairs, and before going I said to Mr. Paine, "If she wants anything to drink, you can give her same of this"—it was weak brandy-and-water—he replied, "I will give her nothing, and then nobody can say anything"—he went out to get some extract of beef, and he said he would send it in by the young woman—it did not come—in the afternoon Dr. Thorman came in again—I had, with his permission, put a poultice on the chest of the deceased, which relieved her breathing very much, and the doctor said she was better—Paine came back between 6 and 7 in the evening—she seemed much better then—Dr. Thorman was there, and said to Paine he did not think much of her at 1 o'clock, but he thought she would rally now—Paine had the young woman with him and did not stay very long—I left about 8 o'clock, before Miss Maclean died.

Cross-examined. I was examined before Dr. Hardwick, the Coroner—I then used the expression "The deceased craved for drink"—so she did—I meant any kind of drink—I did not mean to convey that she craved for spirits, she would take anything, lemonade or milk, or weak brandy and water, or anything else, she was satisfied with it—I have not been a nurse before—she missed Mr. Paine very much, and spoke of him very affectionately—I was examined at the Treasury, but I cannot say by whom—there was a detective named Morgan there at the time, and Mrs. Powell was sitting there part of the time—there was no Magistrate there that I know of.

THE REV. NICHOLAS RICHARD FITZPATRICK . I am curate of St. James, Paddington—I live at 40, Eastbourne Terrace, Paddington—I have resided there for two years—up to April last year I paid the rent to Mr. Maclean, the mother of the deceased—I next sent a cheque to the executor—on the 1st October I received a letter purporting to come from Annie Maclean—it was signed by her, but not written by her the prisoner brought me another note on Thursday, October 16th, and I saw him on the following morning—he was a stranger to me—he told me that Mrs. Maclean had died without a will, and that they were going to take out letters of administration—I gave him a cheque for 32l. 10s. for the quarter's rent due in. September—it was drawn in the prisoner's favour—he gave me the receipt produced, which I filled in and he signed—I

think the signature to the receipt and the endorsement on the back of the cheque are in the same handwriting—on Sunday night, or early on Monday morning, after midnight, I went to 128, Seymour Place—Mrs. powell and a lodger in her house came for me during the time of. our evening service, about 8 p.m.—I had first to find out the relation, Mrs. Wilson, who knew nothing about it—I accompanied Mrs. Wilson to Mr. Powell's—afterwards we went up into the deceased's bedroom—her face then was very highly coloured, and at times was very strongly convulsed—I did not notice anything particular as to the size of her face—I spoke to the deceased—her mind seemed variable and strange—I remained in the room less than half an hour, and then I left—Paine came the following night at my house, but I did not speak to him.

ANNIE BOWDEN (Re-examined). I was there on Monday, 10th, and Tuesday, 11th—Miss Maclean seemed all right in her mind till the Monday evening, when the doctor came—she then began wandering—she thought Paine was on the bed beside her—she used to call out to him as if he were there, and she was trying to wake him up—that occurred also on the Tuesday—her face was bloated, and she had two convulsive, fits on the Tuesday—on the Monday her face was very ranch bloated, and very red.

Cross-examined. I paid her every attention I was able, and gave her all she wanted—there was nothing on the part of the Powells to prevent her having all the food she required—Mrs. Powell told me to coma down and fetch her food—as far as I know, she had every attention paid her.

LOUISA TYSON (Re-examined). Miss Maclean rambled up to within a few days of her death, not on Sunday and Monday; she was quite in her right mind on Sunday and Monday—I should say her mind was clear then, as far as I observed—her face was very ranch, swollen and red on the Tuesday, and it remained so up to within two or three days before her death; then the swelling went down, and, her face became ranch clearer and more natural.

DR. NORMAN MACLEAN (Re-examined). After Mrs. Maclean's death did not send for Paine and ask him if he would go to Broadway and live with my sister as her supposed husband—I did not say, "If you will do that I will give you 600l"—I never gave him a penny piece in my life, or said so—I did not bring him a marriage-certificate, or what purported to be a marriage-certificate, between him and my sister—there is not a word of truth in that statement.

Cross-examined. It is an utter lie—I am the only relative, except Mrs. Wilson, of the deceased—I received a medical certificate while I was in America; it was as follows: "I hereby certify tint I am at present attending Miss Maclean, who has been suffering from mental and physical derangement and liver disease; she is mow improving, and I trust will soon be convalescent—(signed) T. Thomas, F.R.C.S., &c., November 12,.

By the COURT. At the end of April or beginning of May I went about a settlement to Mr. Pridham, my solicitor, in verulam Buildings—a document was drawn by counsel—I spoke to the prisoner about that document while he was at Broadway; at the end of August, I believe. but I cannot give the date—I desired that the settlement should. be executed at once, as I knew they were not married—he said he should wish the settlement to be executed—the draft was sent to Mr. Taylor, his

solicitor—this (produced) is part of it, but there was another part—there was one for the houses and another for the money, and I do not see the last here—I cannot give the date when I caused the settlement to be prepared—I had not at that time spoken to the prisoner about his relationship to my sister—I saw this document at Broadway—I did not speak to the prisoner about it, as I then thought they were married it was worthless—I first learnt from the prisoner anything about his marriage to my sister upon the occasion of my visit to Broadway—I think that was in May—I paid Powell's bill under the advice of my solicitor.

SAMUEL BAYLIS . I am a grocer at Broadway, and an agent for Messrs. Gilbey, the wine and spirit merchants—I remember Mrs. Maclean coming to live at Broadway—I remember her death, and Miss Maclean coming to live at the Shubbery—afterwards Paine came, and they lived as man and wife—I supplied them with wines and spirits—after a time I debited Mr. Paine with the wines and spirits—I supplied Mrs. Maclean from 31st March to the 2nd April; then Miss Maclean from 16th May to the 28th August, 1879; and then Mr. Paine from the 11th September to the 29th October. (The witness read from his book entries of the wines and spirits supplied, in the name of Miss Maclean, from 16th May to 27th August 72 bottles, and in the name of Paine from 11th September to 29th October 26 bottles.)

Cross-examined. Different parties ordered these bottles—Miss Maclean called occasionally, perhaps once in a fortnight or three weeks, when they were down—she has ordered sherry, whisky, and brandy—to the best of my belief Paine was away from home from the 15th October down to the 22nd—Mr. Paine ordered 4 bottles on the 23rd—Matthews used to come for spirits, but not frequently—a great many of the bottles were fetched by Mr. Paine himself—he put them in his pocket and took them away.

JESSIE LOUISA BENNETT . I am the wife of William Henry Bennett, who keeps the Exchange Inn at Worcester—I know the prisoner—he came to us first on the 21st July last year—he stayed there one night, and took away a quart of whisky—I remember his coming again the 15th September with Miss Maclean, whom he introduced to me as Mrs. Paine—he stayed two or three days and left on 5th October.

Cross-examined. They appeared to be very happy and very land to each other—she appeared to be very fond of him—I did not notice any immoderate drinking habits in either of them while I saw them.

WILLIAM SPELLMAN . I am a clerk in the Union Bank, Chancery Lane branch—the cheque for 165l. produced, dated 9th Sept., signed by Taylor and Sons, was in favour of Miss Maclean—it was cashed by the prisoner over the counter that same day, who put on deposit 160l., and I gave him 5l. in cash—the deposit was in his own name—next day he opened a current account and added 15l. to the 160l.—it was an ordinary drawing account, a copy of which I produce—his pass-book runs down to December 10th.

WILLIAM JAMES BBNGEB . I am manager to Mr. Attenborough, pawn broker, 68, Oxford Street—I know the prisoner, and have know him about ten years—he deposited some plate with me in October last, of which this document is the agreement—he told me on the 16th he had got into a difficulty in the country, and was under remand, he was afraid he should have to pay a heavy fine, and not having got money enough, that he

should want to borrow some 30l. or 40l. on some plate—he had not the plate with him—he bought a ring for 7l. 15s., and paid for it by a cheque on his bankers—I saw him the next day but one—he brought a box containing plate; he brought it in a cab—I offered to lend him 35l. on it—he said at first a friend had lent him the plate to borrow money on, but in an ivory card-case in the box there were two cards; "Mrs. Lewis Paine, The Shrubbery, Broadway, Worcestershire," was printed on one, and on the other Mr. Paine's name, with the same address—I then said, "Is this plate your wife's?" and he said "Yes"—the value of the plate, 188oz. of silver, was double the amount of the loan, but he did not ask for more—the articles of plate had a crest upon each of them, and they have been seen and identified by Mrs. Wilson.

WILLIAM MOORE . I am assistant to Mr. Chapman, pawnbroker, 19, Stafford Street, Marylebone Road—the prisoner came to our shop on the 12th November with a box containing silver and linen, and obtained a loan of 8l.—the value of the property was 11l.

MRS. WILSON (Recalled). I have identified the silver spoken to by the two last witnesses as having been the property of my sister and left to Miss Maclean.

CHRISTOPHER PYKE . I am landlord of the Sussex Hotel, London Street, Paddington—the prisoner and Fanny Matthews lodged there as man and wife from 15th to 19th November, and their box of linen was taken possession of by the Coroner's officer.

THOMAS WILLIAM CURTIS . I am the Coroner's officer to Br. Hardwick—on Monday, the 24th November, I went to the Sussex Hotel, where I found a tin box—I took possession of it—there was a portmanteau in the box—I produced the box and contents at the inquest.

Cross-examined. The boxes were all open when I found them—the things in the room were in a confused state—I handed the box and contents to the Coroner, after which I believe they were handed to the Treasury—I gave them to the Coroner, and did not have them back again—then they were handed to the Treasury.

By the COURT. I parted with the papers to the Coroner's clerk, Mr. Schroeder, and I did not have possession of them again—Mr. Schroeder had the custody of them—amongst them were letters signed by Miss Maclean, and a pass book—there was note paper with a signature at the bottom—I cannot recollect if anything was over the signature—there must have been three or four or half a dozen sheets so signed—I saw printed forms like those—I took them first to the Coroner's office, Fulham Place, Paddington—the clerk and myself carried them to the inquest, where they were placed on the table for the Coroner to examine—the clerk then took them back in the box to the Coroner's office after the inquest.

WALTER SCHBOEDER . I live at Hampstead, and have offices at Fulham Place, Paddington—I received a box which was brought by the Coroner's officer, Curtis; it contained letters, but I only looked at it superficially—on the second day of the inquest the box was carried there, and after the inquest was over I took them in a cab to the office—they were taken to the inquest on each occasion; December 16 was the last day, and I then handed the box and papers to Sergeant Morgan—I was present at the inquest each day, and took the notes all through and made up the depositions—I got these two documents, which are fastened with tape to the

depositions, from the tin box—there were several documents in the box all of which I forwarded to the Treasury—there was a will, and I believe this is it, and there was another will and some blank forms of marriage certificates, exactly like these, and some papers with signatures like these (produced)—I was present when the prisoner was examined before the Coroner; I read the evidence to him after the verdict and he signed it—I took down what he said in Court—he was represented by a learned Counsel, Mr. A. Metcalfe, and then by a solicitor, Mr. Samson.

Cross-examined. I took down the notes of the evidence given by the prisoner—there was no confusion, the Coroner did not call order several times, but once or twice there was applause—I saw no row going on between the prisoner and Mrs. Powell—this is the first I have heard of it—the prisoner may have been excited, but he generally had a smile—he was not intoxicated—I have some recollection of some one calling out, "It's a lie." (The prisoner's deposition before the Coroner was here read)—Mr. Pridham appeared for Dr. Norman Maclean.

By MR. POLAND. This letter was written by Paine (This was dated March 6th, 1872, from the prisoner to R. Fuller, Esq;., 4, Field Court)—Paine was cautioned by the Coroner when he gave his evidence, and Fanny Matthews was cautioned—the Coroner told Paine that it might be his duty to commit him; and he was asked whether he would be sworn, or make a statement, and he elected to be sworn; the Coroner advised him to consult his solicitor before he made the statement.

Saturday, February 21.

JOHN WALLEB , M.R.C.S. I live at 10, Upper Dorset Street, Bryanstone Square—on Thursday, 6th November, about 10 p.m., Mr. Powell called on me—I had attended his family—I went with him to his house—we got there about 10.10—I saw a lady in a bedroom on the first-floor—she was in a helpless state—my opinion was that it was from the effects of drink—Mrs. Powell and her servant came up immediately—I mean the chronic effects of drink: the effects of long-continued drinking—her pulse was very feeble, showing that the heart was very feeble in its action—beyond her being very weak I did not 6ee anything else the matter with her—I examined her stomach, in consequence of what Mrs. Powell said, and found it very large, and the liver very hard and enlarged—it felt very prominent—the stomach and bowels were very much distended with flatulence and gas—she seemed a little dull of comprehension, but, after pressing, she would answer questions—she seemed drowsy and dull to talk to—her face looked like that of a person who had been drinking, or was waking up out of sleep—there was nothing particular about it, it was not swollen—it was as if she had just woke up after drinking—I stayed with her a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—I learned that some medical man had been attending her—I told Mrs. Powell that I considered the state she was in was due to the influence of drink, and told her to give her a little weak spirit and water, and a milk diet—I then left—I called again the next morning, and heard that another doctor was in attendance, so I did not go up—on Sunday, the 9th November, Mr. Powell called again about midnight, and I went with him to the coffee-house, and up into the room—the lady was still in bed—I found Mrs. Wilson there, and two or three other persons—the lady was a little better—her stomach was not so distended—she seemed the same as to her strength, and she seemed

blighter on the whole—I was called in to say whether she was in a fit state to make her will, and I examined her as to her state of mind—I think she might have been in a fit state from what she said—I asked her if she was married—she said "Yes"—she was not fit to be removed from the room to another house—I was with her a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—I saw her again about the 12th or 13th November—I called to inquire how she was—I went into the room—she appeared to be brighter in her mind, and better a little in herself—I did not examine as to her general state—I merely walked in, and said "How do you do?" and asked how she was—I saw she had a nurse there—from the condition in which she was, I think raw spirits would not be fit for her—I believe the congestion of her liver had been going on for some time, and drinking raw spirits would be injurious if continued for a long time—she died on 17th November; and I believe if she had been in the habit of drinking raw spirits from the beginning of October, a small quantity, even a wineglass a day of raw spirits, would have accelerated her death—I did not consider her in immediate danger for a day or two, or two or three days—she might have lived for several weeks, but I thought there was a doubt as to her recovery—she required the greatest care and attention.

Cross-examined. Mr. Forman is a neighbour of mine within three or four minutes' walk—I was called in casually—I should not continue to attend another doctor's patient—I did not communicate with Mr. Forman—I did not interfere with his treatment—I was not personally acquainted with him—I did give directions to Mrs. Powell the first night—I do not bow who started the notion of making a will, but Powell wanted to know whether she could do so, and whether they could move her, or what could be done—if she had died at that time, having made a will, I should have been prepared to give evidence that she was quite competent to do so—I have seen a good many drunken patients in all stages—drunkenness kills gradually, but sometimes it terminates suddenly by apoplexy—some livers would require longer than others to bring them into a state of cirrhoses, but I should think a year of habitual drinking would do it—I am acquainted with the text books on this disease—some cases come on much quicker than others—I do not think the liver could be brought into that state much under a year—I cannot say whether it would take two years' habitual drinking—there is nothing in a liver in that state to produce sudden collapse—it is what we call a drunkard's liver—it would not produce sudden death—people linger a considerable time and the brain gets affected, and ultimately there is a shrinking of the brain—the substance is not softened, it shrinks and fluid is thrown off—the technical term is effusion on the brain—that may be gradual—drunken patients are difficult to restrain—I have known them recover themselves of their own accord without being kept under restraint, but then they turn teetotallers—unless they do determine to correct it, it is almost impossible to recover them—if a person had been drinking for eighteen months she would be extremely difficult to restrain—although persons may try themselves and determine to do so, if they have been under the effects of liquor for a great length of time it is necessary gradually to reduce the stimulants: it is dangerous to stop them all at once, there would be a collapse—a person who had been an habitual drunkard to a large extent and had left off drinking altogether for six or eight days would, if she had a diseased heart, he very likely to collapse and die—I did not know then that this

lady was suffering from fatty degeneration of the heart—I have heard that that was the result of the post-mortem—that is a very serious disease and one from which a person may die at any moment, independent of other diseases—I did not notice the loss of use of her hands.

By the COURT. What I mean to say is, that a person suffering from fatty degeneration of the heart may die at any moment, independently of other disease—I should expect it to be sudden, and if they had been addicted to drink and had left it off for seven or eight days, there might be collapse, and death would ensue—I should give such a person weak spirits and water and ammonia—I should not think it right or prudent at all to administer raw spirits—I do not say that a small wineglass of raw spirits just on one occasion would be dangerous if a person was in a fainting condition of the heart, but I should not give the spirits if there was not that fainting condition—where there is no fainting condition it would be proper to administer a little brandy occasionally, if there was a very feeble pulse—brandy is a general remedy that everybody flies to.

FREDERICK WILLIAM SPURGIN , M.R.C.S. I am Divisional Surgeon to the Police—I made the post-mortem examination of the deceased on 20th November—she was a woman of diminutive stature, with curvature of the spine, and one leg in consequence shorter than the other—the skin presented a waxy pearl-like appearance—the abdomen was very much distended and a little discharge was issuing from the vagina—post-mortem changes were beginning, and the body presented a greenish aspect in some parts—internally I found the vessels of the dura-mater and brain were congested, filled with blood, and some fluid was effused over the surface of the brain, and the meshes of the arachnoids under the membrane—there was none in the ventricles—the brain itself was natural—the right lung was healthy—the left lung in its upper and middle part was somewhat congested—both lungs were somewhat adherent to the chest walls—the heart was a small, weak organ—the ventricles and cavities were empty—the bowels were healthy—the heart presented a pale appearance, and to the naked eye there was somewhat the appearance of fatty degeneration—I subsequently examined it microscopically, and found evidence of commencing fatty degeneration, which had not advanced to a mature stage—the liver was enlarged—its weight was 60 ounces, which is excessive for a female—the average weight of a healthy liver of a female is 45 ounces, and this was about 15 ounces in excess—I should suppose it rather below 45 ounces than above in this case—it was flattened out somewhat by the curvature of the spine, and so presented a somewhat unnatural appearance, and to the naked eye the appearance which is connected with a fatty liver and commencing cirrhosis indicating that the disease had been progressive—I should think that such a condition had existed a year or two progressively—a disease like that would progress in some persons more rapidly than in others—I have no doubt that its progress would depend upon the character of the life—it is not possible to predict the duration of time which a disease of that kind has been in progressing—microscopically the liver presented markedly the characteristics of fatty infiltration—the kidneys and uterine organs were healthy—the intestines were considerably distended with wind, and contained a little billiard matter, but otherwise were empty throughout, with the exception of the colon—the stomach contained about half a wine glass full of a brownish fluid—the stomach itself was healthy—the inference I draw from the

condition of the heart and liver is that she had been a drinker—I have no doubt that the administration of raw spirits in small glasses to a person in that condition would accelerate death—if a person had been habitually a drinker I should expect them to crave for raw spirits—I gave evidence before the Coroner that the cause of death was syncope, from failure of the heart's action while suffering from liver disease.

Cross-examined. As soon as a cell forms, degeneration of the heart has taken place to a certain extent—the disease has then established itself in a portion of the heart—the evidences I saw under the microscope were only a commencement, because the fat cells were few and far between—there were fat cells—degeneration had commenced, but it might go a great deal further if nothing happened to hasten the catastrophe—with care the person might last for a considerable period—it is very difficult to diagnose disease of the heart—there are other causes of weak heart besides fatty degeneration, which no ordinary person would guess in its earlier stage—the ventricles were empty, showing that the death had been sudden—the stomach was healthy, with the exception of a patch of redness 2 or 3 inches in size—that would not indicate anything—if the administration of raw spirits, sometimes two-thirds of a large tumbler, and at other times a wineglass, had continued up to a short interval before death, I should expect to find the stomach inflamed—I should expect the gut to be in an inflamed state, but more especially the stomach—the spirits go down the ordinary canal into the Stomach, and then are carried through the liver, and the reception of a large quantity would cause the stomach to be inflamed—ulceration of the mouth would arise from many causes besides drink—if raw spirits had been poured into the woman's stomach shortly before death, I should expect the stomach to exhibit an infamed appearance—by shortly before death I mean within a day or two; but if it had been a month before, I believe the stomach would have recovered from the possible effects of it—the fact of finding the valves of the heart healthy induced me to come to the conclusion that her death was attributed to a feeble heart rather than to alveolar disease—there was no alveolar disease—in my opinion the valves of the heart had nothing to do with her death—that is merely a circumstance which does not help us at all—I should say that the disease of the liver had been increasing for a year or two, but I should not like to say that it was impossible under a year, it is so entirely dependent upon surrounding circumstances—the liver in some cases might become enlarged much more rapidly than in others—if Dr. Norman Maclean saw a blue spot on the deceased's stomach early in July, it would probably be from an enlarged vein; but it is possible there might be a spot independently of that—if there were enlarged veins on the abdomen during life, I should draw the inference that the liver was congested—I examined her body thoroughly externally—there were no signs whatever of violence—it was fairly nourished—I drew the inference from that that the body had deteriorated to an extent, but she was not emaciated; I am not in a position to go further—it is usual in certain circumstances for the medical man who attends a patient to be present at the post-mortem, but he was not, and I knew nothing whatever of the circumstances.

Re-examined. Finding the body fairly nourished, I came to the conclusion that she had a reasonable amount of food—if she had taken a very little food I might still expect to see fat on the body, it might be stored

up irrespective of nutritive food—it would be quite possible for her not to have taken much food for a considerable time before her death and yet for her body to be fairly nourished—if the taking of raw spirits had continued uninterrupted to within a day or two of her death, I should have expected to find inflammation of the stomach; but supposing she had been drinking considerable quantities, and then ceased, say for a week before her death, and only took weak spirits and water, I should not expect to see any inflammation—if she had ceased to drink raw spirits for four days or a week before her death I think the mucous membrane of the stomach might have recovered itself, and I should not expect to find any trace of inflammation, and the stomach might not have presented an unhealthy appearance—from the appearances I saw on the postmortem, the immediate cause of death was the enfeebled heart, or syncope—that is, from some cause or other, the heart ceased to act, and the patient died—from what I could judge on the post-mortem, and from the evidence, the syncope of the heart was due to the diseased condition of the liver—that is, the cirrhosis of the liver—the effect of cirrhosis is to contract the liver and diminish its size—this liver was larger than usual—that is what we frequently find soon after the disease has set in—the ultimate effect of cirrhosis is the contraction of the liver, but the earlier effect is otherwise; it is somewhat enlarged, and in cirrhosis its structure is altered; and as the disease goes on the structure becomes more and more altered, and it results at length in contraction—an excessive induldence in alcohol is nearly always, I believe, the cause of cirrhosis—excessive drinking produces a nervous collapse, and degenerates the whole of the tissues, and the collapse of the nerves affects the muscles—it would be likely to produce syncope of the heart if it was accompanied by organic disease in consequence, such as cirrhosis of the liver—I did not see Dr. Forman at all.

By MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. When I say syncope of the heart 1 mean the result of a disease existing in the heart—the fatty degeneration of the heart causes syncope, and that was the immediate cause of death—it was the result of fatty degeneration in this particular case-fatty degeneration of the heart can be associated with the enlargement and cirrhosis of the liver, and frequently is—you may get fatty degeneration of the heart without any disease of the liver—you may have the fatty degeneration of the heart without the liver having anything to do with—it may cause death without the liver operating in any way to assist it, but usually where there is fatty degeneration the other organs are also affected—I have never met with any case in which a person with fatty degeneration of the heart had all the other organs healthy—I should not like to say whether the person might not die of fatty degeneration such as I discovered and yet the liver be a healthy organ, that is beyond my experience—in my experience it is extremely difficult to restrain anybody who has been once a drinker—I never met with a case of a man or woman yet where I could alter it when they have once assumed the habit, that is, after they had once given way to it chronically.

THOMAS THORMAN . I a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—in November last I was living at 31, Nutford Place, I was staying there in apartments—I carried on my practice there—my name was not on the door—I first became acquainted with Paine on Thursday morning, 6th November, he was staying at the same house, I did not know it till that

morning—I did not know that he was staying there with Matthews—he came that morning to consult me about the lady who was at the coffee-house—he said she was passing under the name of Mrs. Paine, or in other words, as his wife—he did not tell me then what her real name was, afterwards he did, when I wrote the certificate that went to his brother: that was on the 12th—I am not quite sure whether he told me that her brother was Dr. Norman Maclean, then in America—I knew that I was writing the certificate for the brother's use—he did not tell me that Miss Maclean was the daughter of Colonel Maclean—he gave the brother's name as Norman Maclean—I don't remember whether he gave the prefix "doctor" or not—I did not inquire—in the course of my attendance on the lady I did not make any inquiries from Paine as to who her friends were, nor from her—I saw her first on the afternoon of that same day, the 6th—she was then in bed—she appeared to be very ill; indeed, she presented to me the appearance of a person who had evidently been having, vulgarly speaking, a long bout of drinking; she presented the appearance of a drunkard: medical men know that state under the term of alcoholism; her face was bloated, swollen, dusky in appearance, the pupils of the eyes were contracted, the conpunitive, or white parts of the eyes, were very much congested—she seemed quite powerless—her mind was not at all clear, she rambled during the time I was there, that is, she did not seem to be at all sensible of what was going on around, in a kind of stupor—my instructions were that she should cease to have spirits in any quantity, but that she should have weak brandy-and-water—it would be very bad for her to drink much raw spirits, either raw or diluted—raw. spirits would be more prejudicial to the patient than diluted—in my view the proper course of treatment was gradually to cease taking stimulants—I certainly did not think it would be wise to cease altogether, but to take weak brandy-and-water—i gave those instructions to Paine, and expected them to be carried out—I thought, under the circumstances, that the patient might rally, supposing my instructions were carried out—if my instructions were not carried out, I considered that life would be materially shortened—I think that in the condition she then was it would have been very dangerous to administer much stimulant, either raw or in any form—I thought that the patient did not require any medicine, she only required to leave off stimulants—I could tell that the liver was enlarged and congested—the symptoms were excessive hardness of the structure itself—a congested liver is not necessarily a result of excessive drinking, still it is more commonly due to that cause, and often leads to cirrhosis—cirrhosis may be described as a destructive inflammation of the tissue of the liver, and the ultimate result is that the liver becomes empty and puckered up, contracted—that is a very common result of excessive drinking—I did not, from what I saw of this lady, suspect cirrhosis—I attended her daily until her death, from the 6th to the 17th—on Wednesday, the 12th, I gave this certificate, "I hereby certify that I am at present attending Miss Annie Maclean, also known as Mrs. Lewis Paine, who has been suffering from mental and physical derangement, the latter referable to congestion of the liver; she is now improving, and I think will soon be convalescent"—I was induced to believe there was mental derangement, as Paine had told me about the adventure at Stratford-on-Avon, about the discovery of a pistol; according to his statement that worried her a good deal, and then her brother

going away—I found that she did at times wander in her talk, imagined people were in the room when they were not, and so on; the physical derangement I have already described—I had not the slightest doubt in my own mind that it was a case of alcoholism—at the time I signed that certificate she was better; she was progressing, so far as I could judge under the circumstances, satisfactorily, hence the certificate—I saw her on the Thursday, Friday, and Saturday; her mind grew very much clearer—I was not present when she died, I was there a few minutes afterwards—I gave a certificate of the cause of death—the primary cause of death was congestion of the liver; the secondary cause was disease of the heart terminating in fatal syncope; the certificate is in the form of primary, secondary, and tertiary—the immediate cause of death was fatty degenetion of the heart—by syncope I mean that the heart became so enfeebled that it ceased to act; syncope is simply the result of a feeble heart—the primary cause was congestion of the liver; I don't mean to say that that set up the syncope; in my view the lady died thus early from excessive drinking; that would produce congestion of the liver, and probably cause the state of the heart I have described—the first effect of excessive drinking is collapse of the nervous system, that operates on the muscles and so enfeebles the heart; the sooner a drunken person leaves off stimulants the better; not suddenly, gradually, and then altogether.

Cross-examined. I was not present at the post-mortem—I came to the conclusion that there was a feeble heart during my attendance upon her—I gave my certificate before the post-mortem—I heard when I came back 10 minutes afterwards that she was dead, and I assumed from that that the feeble heart ended in syncope—I had previously ascertained the existence of congestion of the liver—the death might have been occasioned by the state of the heart independently in any way whatever of the operation of the liver—either of those symptoms might have killed her—supposing cirrhosis killed a person it would be a very lingering death—I had not known Mr. Paine before the Thursday morning—he heard that I was a medical man and spoke to me—he gave me the history of the case—he said that he had brought a lady to town to have medical advice—he was pleased to find that there was a medical man in the house—he said the lady was passing as Mrs. Paine—she was under the impression that she was pregnant, he wished me to see her to satisfy her on that point, at the same time telling me that she had been for a length of time addicted to habits of intemperance—we then arranged that I should meet him in the afternoon at 128, Seymour Place—on our arrival I found the lady in bed, and in the presence of Mrs. Powell and himself made the required examination—I found that pregnancy did not exist—the appearances were owing to the enlarged condition of the liver, which was rendered more apparent from the pressure caused by the curvature of the spine—I did not prescribe medicinally—I instructed Paine that the stimulants were to be reduced, and that she was to have plenty of light food—I saw her every day from that time to the day of her death—it appeared to me there were occasions when my directions had not been carried out—I spoke to Paine about it, but I cannot remember what be answered—she appeared to me to be improving; in fact, on the Sunday following there was a very marked improvement—I judged that my instructions had not been carried out from her wandering in her speech more than I thought correct—I saw spirits given to her upon the first

occasion only—I think it was rum which Paine gave her then, mixed with water—he took it from a flat bottle in his, pocket—having poured out the rum, if rum it was, he turned round to me and said, "Now, doctor, I will show you her weakness," upon which she replied, "Lewis, I don't want it"—he then said, "You artful little devil; you would take it if he were not here," meaning myself—when he used that expression, it did not seem as if it were in unkindness, it seemed more as if it were in joke than anything—there was no repulsion on her part towards him—I saw her frequently alone—she never made any complaint, and always spoke of Paine in the kindest way—I am not aware that Paine ever gave her any stimulant after that day—I did not ask her any questions, I was guided by her general appearance—I remember Friday, the 7th of November—I deny that he uncorked a bottle of whisky while I was there—I never saw him uncork any whisky—it is not true that he gave the deceased some, and that I took some too; there is not a word of truth in it—I remember on the morning of the 17th, saying that she would live for twenty years yet—I will explain that—on that morning I found her very bad—her face was dusky and she was complaining of shortness of breath, which I ascertained to arise from congestion of the left lung—for this I ordered a linseed-meal and mustard poultice, and administered to her spoonfuls of hot diluted brandy—at this time Powell came into the room and said audibly, "Anybody can see she is dying"—I said, "No; she is not dying in the sense that you understand dying"—when I called in the evening she had considerably rallied—observation was made again that she was dying, and I, with a view to calm and reassure the patient, said that she might live for twenty years, or as long as any of us—that was not my real view or impression, but was simply given with a view to cheer the patient—I did not expect her to die so suddenly; but still, I was not surprised—she might have rallied and lived for months, perhaps even years—if spirits had been given five days before death inflammation would have been quite distinctly visible—her tongue was always what we call clean, by which I mean not covered with fur;—it was not ulcerated or raw at any time—I know of her having beef tea, I gave her some myself—after my instructions I have seen tumblers, probably containing a third or so of diluted brandy—I ordered no castor oil, nor did I see any—I have been in practice about eighteen years—I prescribed no medicine at all—if any spirits were administered according to my directions they were in water.

Re-examined. The administration of raw spirits would produce inflammation of the stomach—if the patient had been accustomed to take considerable quantities of spirits, it would only intensify the effects—if the administration ceased, I should still expect to find the stomach inflamed at the end of a week or 10 days—assuming that raw spirits had been taken for weeks previously, it would have taken weeks to have recovered from it—the history of her case, as I understood from Paine, was that she had been drinking in excess up to the time I saw her—excessive drinking would produce inflammation of the stomach—I should have expected that the post-mortem examination would have revealed those appearances; even if my instructions had been obeyed, especially in a constitution such as hers, where the power of recovery was so singularly small—it was a very strong stomach—I think a strong stomach would inflame as readily as a weak one, in fact more readily—as a rule, in all cases of persons dying from excessive drinking, I should expect to find the

stomach inflamed—I have invariably found it so in my experience—it is almost a sign positive—catarrh of the stomach is one of the results of inflammation, and invariably associated with drink—large quantities alcohol would excite catarrh of the stomach—persons suffering from prostration by fever can take large quantities of alcohol, live on it, in fact you may say, entirely for a period without exciting catarrh, without setting up inflammation—a person very much debilitated could not take I arge quantities of spirit—a debilitated person, in all probability would haw catarrh set up from raw spirits, or, in fact, if spirits were diluted to any extent; still, it would be more likely to occur in a healthy person—I remember the prisoner saying, "Now I will show you her weakness"—I am not quite clear as to what he gave her; I think it was rum, with a little water; I won't be quite sure; it was my first appearance on the scene, consequently I was taken by surprise—I thought it rather strange—it was not at all necessary for me to be convinced of her weakness—I think she took a sip of it after he made use of that expression—I don't think she took it all; I can't be certain about that; I won't be quite sure—the rum was taken out of a small flat bottle, as far as I recollect; but the transaction altogether was so quick, and I being a stranger, I had not time to notice; he took it out of his pocket—I think the cork was simply removed by finger and thumb—I am not sure whether it was a glass stopper—I have no recollection of a cork being drawn—I think I can say that I am quite positive about it, and that I never had any of the spirits with Paine.

By the JURY. I could not see the motive of giving the rum to the patient; the action altogether was so rapid—when I say it was rum, I neither applied my nose to it nor did I taste it—I think Paine said it was rum, I am not quite sure—I thought it was a wrong thing on his part, most decidedly—the action was so rapid that I was quite unprepared to protest against it—I knew perfectly the state the patient was in, from the history of the case—I had not seen her before; that was on the very day I paid my first visit.

THOMAS BOND . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, assistant-surgeon to the Westminster Hospital, and lecturer on forensic medicine at that institution—I have seen a great many cases of excessive drinking—it causes exhaustion of the nervous system, and, following upon that, paralysis of the muscles—it also frequently produces cirrhosis of the liver—I have, by the instructions of the Solicitor to the Treasury, been in Court during this inquiry—I have heard the general history of the case—in my view, Dr. Spurg in has correctly diagnosed the cause of death—I think that death was caused by syncope of the heart, produced by the fatty degeneration which has been described, and also by the nervous exhaustion—it is my opinion that it was a case of "alcoholism"—I think it was dangerous to administer large quantities of spirits to the deceased, either raw or diluted, in the condition in which she was described to be—I have heard that the stomach did not exhibit any sign of inflammation—that evidence rather surprises me—the effect of raw spirits would tend to produce inflammation of the stomach—if it were chronic inflammation the effects would remain a considerable time—if it was acute congestion it might disappear in a few days.

Cross-examined. This case, if anything at all, was one of chronic drinking, and therefore I should expect inflammation—when persons have

taken to drinking it is very difficult to restrain them—I have found the greatest ingenuity on the part of those persons in killing themselves—I do not use the them "dipsomaniacs "much, I should generally call them habitual drinkers—my experience is that they do not like raw spirits; they like to be constantly taking weak spirits—I do not think the administration of weakened spirits would be the proper treatment—I always stop it altogether—it is the practice of many medical men to stop it gradually; I entertain a different opinion—from the history of this case I would not call it a sudden death—the lady had been sinking for some time—I have often seen a rallying before death—the ventricles of the heart being empty shows that she died from sudden syncope, but a person may be at the point of death for a good many days and then die suddenly; it is a question of degree.

Re-examined. Considering the condition in which Miss Maclean was on the 6th and afterwards up to the time of her death, I do not think she would have had a craving for raw spirits—my experience of many patients dying from spirits is that at the last they detest raw spirits—they require stimulant, they still ask for it—my view is that it is better to cut off alcohol altogether—I know that other persons think differently—I resort to other stimulants of a different character not containing alcohol—carbonate of ammonia is one, nuxvomica is another, and beef-tea is another.

JAMES BUCKINGHAM (Police-Inspector E). After the verdict of the Coroner's Jury on the 16th December I arrested the prisoner—I found certain papers upon him, and amongst others Attenborough's deposit note of the plate.

EDWIN LEWIS FOBS (Examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE). I reside at Broadway, Worcestershire, and am a chemist and druggist—I knew the deceased—she was in the habit of coming to the shop to buy things for toilet purposes—she never bought any laudanum or alcohol there—I never supplied her with anything of the Kind—Mr. Paine called on or about the 29th of September, and said Mrs. Paine was in a desponding state of mind, and if she applied for anything of a poisonous nature I was not to supply it without a written order from him—I knew Dr. Maclean while he was living at the Broadway—laudanum or opiates had been supplied to the house, to the doctor.

By MR. POLAND. I had known the deceased about 12 months—I saw her about a month before Paine called—she went about the village in the ordinary way, and appeared very well—she was a customer of ours—there is no other chemist and druggist at Broadway—Paine said she was in a low, desponding state of mind, but did Bat say what that arose from—I did not see her after he called—she was introduced to me by Paine as Mrs. Paine about June, and I knew that they were living together as Mr. and Mrs. Paine—Paine called for some mixture on the 28th—I am not sure whether the order I have mentioned was given on the 28th or 29th—it was on one of those days—I do not know whether aha ever had any laudanum.

RUPERTIA WILSON (Re-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE). There is a tradesman, named Randall who has done some work for my sister in her house, but not for many years; I only know him by his removing the furniture from 40, Eastbourne Terrace to Craven Road—when I went on the visit I have spoken of, nothing was said about a will, only Miss

Maclean wished her will made; she wished me to fetch her solicitor, also to prevent Paine getting any more money out of the bank.

By MR. POLAND. She said she was very anxious for me to go to Mr. Taylor to prevent Paine getting any more money of hers out of the bank "Thank God," she said, "I have a little left"—I said I could not go at that time, as it was between 2 and 3 in the morning—she said, "Telegraph to him; "I said I could not, there were no telegraph offices open, but I would go the first thing in the morning and fetch him—"Do, she said "mind you do, now do," she said imploringly; "now do mind you do I want him to make my will"—she was very anxious about a box of plate—this occurred during the night; she had repeated conversations—I was then going to wish her good-bye—she said, "Don't go, don't leave me;" she took hold of my hands as well as she could, and said, "You shan't go"—she had not the proper use of her hands, but she seemed to have a better use of them after I had been with her a little time—all I know of Randall is that he removed my sister's furniture, and during the removal a watch and chain was lost belonging to my sister.

By MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I can't say who stole it—I don't mean to charge him or any one with stealing it—I mean to say it was stolen, who stole it I can't say—my niece was a little wandering in her mini when I saw her—she was very collected at times, and then she wandered again.

By MR. POLAND. To the best of my belief these documents (produced) are in my sister's writing.

MRS. POWELL (Re-examined). I don't know whether Randall was the man who was employed by the prisoner to bury Miss Maclean.

EDWARD POWELL (Re-examined). I can't tell whether Randall was the undertaker employed by the prisoner—I saw him at the inquest—I did not see him paid for the funeral there.

LLOYD (Re-examined). I slept at home last Wednesday night.

PAINE— GUILTY of Manslaughter .— Penal Servitude for Life.


Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-235
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

235. GEOEGE WEIGHT (24) , Stealing a basket of tools, the property of Henry Dixon.

MR. MILLWOOD Prosecuted.

HENRY DIXON . I am a carpenter, of Barking—this basket of tools is my property—I left them on Saturday night, 24th January, in a new villa which is being built at Barking, and on Sunday evening between 7 and 8 o'clock somebody said something to me, I looked for my tools and missed them—I found them at the police-station.

DAVID ARGENT . I keep a beerhouse in Barking, and am building a house opposite—Dixon is in my employ—I went to the house on Sunday, 25th January, about 10 a.m., and saw this basket safe in the front room—I went there again about 7 p.m to shut the shutters, and when I got into the scullery I heard a scuffle, the kitchen window was thrown up, and the prisoner jumped out; I rushed after him; he jumped over the palings, I went out to the gate and called "Stop thief!"—he was stopped by a constable and brought back—I went into the parlour and found a bag

full of tools and a basket with a chisel and other things which I had seen upstairs in the morning—the prisoner said he only went in there for a rest.

JOHN WHITTOCK (Policeman K 441). On Sunday, 25th January, about 7 p.m., I was on duty and heard some one shouting "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running towards me; I called out "Stop," but he tried to pass me—I seized him, we both fell; he tried very hard to get away—I took him back to the house, and Mr. Argent pointed at the tools and charged him with with stealing them; he said "I know nothing of about them, I only came in to rest"—Mr. Argent said "How did you come in I"—he aid "The same way as I went out"—he said at the station, "You did not find anything on me, you can only give me three months, I don't know anything about the tools."

Prisoner's Defence. I am guilty of being on the premises and resting there from 10 to 7 o'clock, but I know nothing about the tools.

HENRY DIXON (Re-examined). I left the tools in the bedroom on Stairnight.

GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY to a former conviction in Feb., 1879.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-236
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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236. ELIZABETH ENNIFER (44) , Unlawfully uttering a counterfeit florin to Eliza Candy, knowing it to be false and counterfeit.

MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.

THOMAS CUNDY . I am the landlord of the Prince of Wales public-house, West Ham—on the night of the 20th December last, about 8.30, my wife served the prisoner with half a quartern of gin and a glass of sixpenny ale; that came to fourpence—I saw my wife give the change—I prisoner drank the liquor and went out—my wife then showed me this half-crown—I went after the prisoner, but did not see her—I knew her as a customer—she returned in about 20 minutes—my wife served her again with half-quartern of gin and half a pint of fourpenny ale—she tendered this two-shilling piece—my wife took it into the little parlour—I saw her give the prisoner 1s. 8 1/2 d. change—the prisoner hastily drank up the ale and went out—my wife showed me the coin, and I went after the prisoner—I saw her join a man and a boy—I gave her into custody—she was then alone—she said "Me?"—I said "Yes, you; you know all about it".

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I passed by you in the street.

ELIZA CUNDY . I am the wife of the last witness—I remember the prisoner coming to four bar on the night of 20th December, about 8.30—I have heard my husband's evidence—it is correct—I saw the prisoner join the man and a boy through the window—she was brought back in about 10 minutes, and the coins were shown to her—I do not remember what passed between us.

WILLIAM BATES (Policeman K 421). About 10 o'clock on the night of the 20th December last the prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Candy, who said she had passed bad coin at his house—I said "Is it correct?"—she made no reply—I took her to the prosecutor's house—I asked her how she came with the coin—she made no reply—I then asked her her name and address—she gave her name as Elizabeth Jennifer, but refused to give her address—these are the coins—I marked them in her presence, and I know them by their marks.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are bad.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing say."

GUILTY .*—She also PLEADED GUILTY to having been convicted at this Court in December, 1876, of a similar offence.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.


Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-237
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

237. EDWARD CRESWELL (22) , Stealing two pairs of boots of Samuel Turner.

MR. A. B. KELLY Prosecuted.

SAMUEL TURNER . I am a bootmaker, of 68, High Street, Deptford—on Wednesday, 21st January, at 8 p.m., two pairs of boots were hanging a nail outside the shop, and at 8.30 two boys outside gave an alarm, and I missed the boots—a boy brought one pair back—I saw the prisoner on Friday in custody.

JESSE DAVIS . I live at Upper Hosier Street, Deptford—I was standing outside the shop when I saw a boy cut two pairs of boots off and give them to the prisoner, who put them under his coat and ran away—one pair dropped from his coat, and another boy picked them up—I am sure the prisoner is the man.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said at the police-court that you were the man—when you were in the dock I was told to stand outside for a minute, and then I came in and saw you in the dock—I saw you steal the boots.

The Prisoner. I was up and down the street all day and the day after: it is funny that no one but him should see me take the boots.

SAMUEL TURNER . I am the son of the prosecutor—I saw the boy cut the boots down and give them to the prisoner, who ran away—I had never seen the prisoner before—I ran after him and called "Stop thief;" I could not catch him—I saw a pair drop—I saw the prisoner again the same evening, and saw a pair of boots in his pocket—I am sure of the prisoner—I next saw him at the police-court.

THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant). I saw the prisoner on Friday, 23rd January, about 9 p.m. in a public-house at the top of High Street—I I called him out, and told him I was going to apprehend him for stealing two pail's of boots from Mr. Turner on Wednesday evening—he wanted to know what time, and I told him between 8 and 8.30.—he said "I did not steal any boots; I have plenty of witnesses to prove where I was. Prisoner's Defence. I never said "I have plenty of witnesses." I am not guilty. It is hard they should swear to me when they say they saw another boy.


Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-238
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

238. THOMAS RICKARD (30) , Stealing a hide, the property 4 Henry Cox.


HENRY COX . I am a slaughterman at the Foreign Cattle Market, Deptford—on 19th December a roan bull was sent to me to be slaughtered, and was slaughtered on my premises—the hide was in the ordinary course thrown outside the slaughterhouse door, and left there to be called for—different parties collect them, whoever they are sold to—I missed it next day—I had not sold or given any one authority to take it away—I saw it on 1st January at Osier and Palmer's yard at Bermondsey, and identified it—I had given information, and had gone to his house previously—I met him in the street about 7.30 p.m.—I had been looking for Kern all day, and could not find him—I said "Rickard, I want to speak to you"—he said "What is it?"—I said "Did not you sell two roan oxhides and a roan bull-hide to Warmington's people I"—he said "Yes, I did"—I said "How did you come in possession of them?"—he stood for a minute or two, and I said "You will have to tell me"—he said "A man came to me and asked me to do a job, and I took about three hides to Bermondsey"—I said "Yes, and you sold them 1"—he said "Yes, I did"—I said "You took the money for them ten—he said "I did"—I said "Pray who was the man?"—he said "I should not know him again if you were to give me 100l."—I said "That is rather strange to a man so well known in the market as you that you would not know the man who was dealing with these hides; is that the only account you can give me of them?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Then I shall give you in custody," and I did so—I knew him in the Foreign Cattle Market.

Cross-examined. I have known him seven or eight years—he constantly frequented the market—it is un open market—I cannot say whether he attends other markets—I attend Bermondsey Market very little—two other skins were also alleged to be stolen—they were lost from another place (Mr. Black's), 50 yards from my slaughterhouse, on the same night.

WILLIAM GILLETT . I am a slaughterman to Mr. Cox—I assisted in slaughtering this roan bull on the 19 th—I saw the hide safe on the same day, and afterwards saw it at Osier and Palmer's premises—T afterwards identified it at the tan yard through having helped to slaughter it.

Cross-examined. The skin was left outside for delivery on Saturday, about 11 a.m., and on Monday morning it was gone.

JOHN BAHNARD . I am foreman to Charles Harrington, of Bermondsey Market, a dealer in hides—on 21st December the prisoner came to me in the market, and said he had got three hides to sell for a man; he had them in a cart—I bought them; one of them was a bull's hide—I cannot say whether it was a roan bull hide, as I was busy at the time—it was afterwards sold to Osier and Palmer with 11 more, perhaps two hours afterwards—I got 38s. for it—I bought all the three.

Cross-examined. I gave a fair price for them—there was a man in the cart—I do not know whether that was his own man—I had had dealings with the prisoner before—there was no concealment about this—he was admitted to bail by the Magistrate.

THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I received information, and took the prisoner on 1st January—I said "I shall take you for stealing three hides from the Foreign Cattle Market, one bull's hide, and two ox hides"—he said "I did not steal them, two men came and asked me to sell them for foem, and I took and sold them"—I took him to the station, and he said to a female there, who he lives with, "You know those two men who came

and asked me to sell those hides"—she said "Yes"—I afterwards got the hides from Osier and Palmer.

Cross-examined. I took him at his own stable in Butcher Row, Deptford.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say except I know I did not steal them."

He received a good character.


9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-239
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

239. THOMAS RICKARD was again indicted for stealing two hides the property of Thomas Peter Black, upon which MR. HORACE AVORY offered no evidence.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-240
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

240. ROBERT HARVEY (22) PLEADED GUILTY ** to embezzling 2l. 2s. of Henry Drew, his master, also to having been convicted of felony at Greenwich in August, 1877.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-241
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

241. ROBERT JACKSON (40) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from George Allison ten tubs of bosh and other articles with intent to defraud.


ALEXANDER ST. CLARE BOWER CARNEGY . I am the manager of the Capital and Counties Bank, Ludgate Hill—on 17th December the prisoner applied to open an account, promising to deposit between 60l. and 70l.—I consented—he said he had been paid 13l. by a customer on his way, and he would pay that in, and go home and fetch the money that he had there—he paid in 13l.—he signed our book in the usual way, and he had a small cheque-book with 30 cheques in it—he did not pay in the 60l. which he promised; this (produced) is the paying-in slip-book; the figures on it are not mine—I do not recognise them, nor are they like the prisoner's—the prosecutors have not had possession of this book since the prisoner took it away—I next saw the prisoner on 10th January, when the balance was only 17l. 11s. 7d.—the cheque for 16l. was paid through the clearing house on the 13th, leaving a balance of 13s. 8d.—on that day the prisoner came for a fresh book—on the 10th I told him, partly on account of his having failed to pay in the money he promised, and partly on account of cheques being returned dishonoured, I had decided to close his account—I also asked him to give me all the blank cheques in his possession—he said he had none, as he had used them—I then took him to the cashier, and repeated the statement to him—the cashier said his statement appeared to be true—he then said he had one cheque for a small amount—I said "Then you can pay in the difference to meet that cheque, and that will close it"—he said he would do so—on the 12th he appears to have paid in 16l. 10s.—On that morning his balance was 17l. 11s. 7d. and 17l. 7s. 11d. was paid out—no money was paid in on that day—this (produced) is the cheque-book which was issued to the prisoner; one counterfoil, dated the 10th, has 17l. 7s. 11d. on it, another, dated 12th January, 16l.—the 16l. counterfoil is numbered E 4795—the next number is E 4796—it was presented to our bank in favour of G. Allison or order for 12l. 10s.—the cheque was' referred to drawer—4797 is in favour of J. H. Crump and Sons for 42l. 11s., 4d.—it was presented to me personally, and by mistake was not afterwards taken to the counter to be marked—4798, in favour of "s. W. T." for 34l. 6s. 10d., was

not paid, nor 4799, for 34l. 8s. in favour of Mr. Ellison of the same day—cheques for those four sums, amounting to 123l. 16s. 2d., were presented when there was not sufficient to meet them.

Cross-examined. I have not the defendant's pass-book—it was searched for—the cashier will be able to tell you—Mr. Hobbs, the clerk, made this statement (produced)—I have certified it—in doing so I examined the books—the statement corresponds—the prisoner gave two references; on of them, a Mr. Robinson, was not in the Post-office Directory—Jackson assured me he was a householder—I said I could not understand his name not being in the Post-office Directory—he pulled out a lot of invoices from several firms, whose names I found in the directory as dry goods dealers and on his showing me those invoices I allowed him to open the account as a rule the money was paid in apparently to meet cheques—I told the prisoner that as he had broken his word with regard to not paying in a sufficient amount, and as I had noticed irregularities in his account, he was to close it—I did not consider the account closed until further payment was made to meet the outstanding cheque; with that exception I considered it closed finally—I cannot say whether some of the cheques which had been dishonoured were subsequently paid—I think the cheque for 42l. was presented on the 14th or 15th, but it is not marked, and I cannot swear to that, but I am quite sure it was presented to me—I should not have paid it without the guarantee of the London and Westminster Bank, or some responsible person, unless the alteration from 40l. to 42l. was initialled—the whole payments to credit during the period of the account being opened amounted to 129l.—the amount paid out was this sum less 13s. 8d., which I think we deserve for our trouble.

ALFRED CATT . I am assistant to Mr. George Allison, of 17 in the Meat Market—on Saturday, 10th January, the prisoner came to our shop between 1 and 2 o'clock, with a man named Robinson—I did not know them—the prisoner asked if we had any borsch tubs—that is a substitute for butter packed in tubs—I showed him some, the market price of which was as per cwt.—he asked how many we had—I said we had 11 and could only spare 10 of them—he agreed to the price—it would come to 10 guineas—he asked me for the bill—he then wrote this cheque in my presence for 10 guineas—I took it to Mr. Allison and let the goods go by the carrier Orchard—we have no more to do after we see the goods delivered to the carrier—the cheque was paid in on the Monday—I have nothing to do with the cash—I next see the prisoner on Tuesday, the 13th, with Robinson—he asked me if we had any more bosch tubs left—I said I had not, but I had something that would suit him as well in the shape of six boxes of the same article—he chose the lot—he also chose some American cheese at 70s. a cwt, and five sides of bacon at 74s. a cwt, total 34l. 8s., and including the Saturday's goods 44l. 18s.—I made out a bill and he wrote out a cheque for 34l. 8s. 7d.—the clerk referred to Mr. Allison—Mr.' Allison hesitated—the prisoner said "Well, Mr. Allison, you had a cheque of mine on Saturday, and you have had one or two before," and he referred Mr. Allison to Messrs. Towers and Cheshire, in the market—I went away and inquired and came back and told Mr. Allison about the reference—then the cheque was taken and the goods were taken away—we took possession of some of the goods and some were returned from Kennington Lane Police-station.

Cross-examined. I have been in Mr. Allison's service two and a half years—I am the only person who serves in that department—I do not bow that the prisoner has dealt with Allison before—I know nothing of the other departments—the cheque may have been presented on the 12th. George Allison. I carry on business in the Market—I had no transaction with the prisoner prior to 24th December, when ho bought some salt pork amounting to between 21. and 3l.—this is the cheque that wag then paid me for 5l. 7s. 9d.—Mr. Catt handed me this cheque on 10th for 10 guineas—I did not see the prisoner then—I paid the cheque into the Capital and Counties Bank, Ludgate Hill branch—I saw the prisoner on the 13th—the cheque came back to me later that day, marked "Refer to drawer"—the prisoner that day offered me a cheque for 34l. 8s.—I said "I have already received a cheque from you for 10 guineas I want a reference for this"—he said "It will be all right"—I said "You are not personally known to me"—he said "I can give you any amount of references"—I said "Who are they?"—he said "Gurrier knows me," that is a salesman, "and Messrs. Tower and Cheshire"—I said "Well, I should like to know something about you"—I then sent Catt to Tower and Cheshire's—he came back and said they had had one or two small cheques—I said "I will take it this time, but I don't care about it"—he said "Oh, it is all right"—afterwards the two cheques came back together—I went over to the prisoner's place, at 117, Lower Marsh—it is a small cupboard of a shop—I waited two and a quarter hours—I then went to the Capital and Counties Bank and got a report from the manager—then I went and saw Orchard the carrier to know where he had taken my goods to—I then took Orchard's horse and cart with my two men and went to a little dairy in Sussex Street, Limehouse—I found nothing in the shop—in the back kitchen I found the bacon, the cheeses, and the boxes of butteries; the whole of the goods represented by the 34l. cheque with the exception of one gammon of bacon—it was about 4 p.m on Tuesday, the 14th—I saw the prisoner in the shop—we put the goods in Orchard's cart and took them away—I did not see the tubs of bosch—they were afterwards given me by the police.

Cross-examined. The prisoner only dealt with me once before the 10th January—I told the Magistrate so—I might have said twice, if so it is correct—the prisoner gave me his address in Lower Marsh on a card—I have resold the bosch—I am not a manufacturer of bosch—it is nothing deleterious to the human system—it is made up of fat and the purest butter that can be got—there is a deal more fat than butter—I found the returned cheques in my letter box on the morning of the 14th—I will swear it was not after I got any of my goods back.

SAMUEL STEBBINGS . I am carman to Mr. Orchard, of New Street, Kennington—I took a load of bacon, cheese, and butter from Mr. Allison's, and was on my way to 117, Lower Marsh, when the prisoner's man stopped me in Snow Hill and got in the cart—I then altered my direction and went to Commercial Road—we stopped opposite Watney Street—the prisoner met us—his man got off the cart and talked with him—they went into a butter shop and came out—the prisoner said "I shan't take it in here, I want to take it to my place"—I asked him where it was—he said "Go to Limehouse Church"—all three then rode into Sussex Street—we stopped at a little shop—the goods were then taken through the passage into the back

kitchen—when we came out Jackson said "If any one asks you where you took the things say you don't know"—I went home with the empty cart after going to a public-house to get paid 5s. my master's money, and where the; gave me something to drink—I afterwards took Mr. Allison and showed him the place where I left the goods—I brought what there was back to Mr. Allison.

Cross-examined. I did not say before the Magistrate it was Wednesday the 14th—I can write my own name—I have not seen the prisoner's max since—I saw a man at the police-court I thought was Jackson, but that proved to be the wrong one—that is the man I pointed out (pointing)—I did not know he was Mr. Crump's clerk—I am quite sure the prisoner was there—I knew him in Court when he put his hat on.

ALFRED CATT . Orchard drove away the things on Tuesday, 13th January—I brought them back on the Wednesday.

Cross-examined. Orchard is in the habit of carrying away goods from us—he took none away on the 14th.

WILLIAM WARNER . I am foreman to Messrs. Crump and Sons, of White-cross Street, Union Street, Borough—on the 8th January, about 5 p.m., the prisoner came to our place of business with another man—they were strangers—the prisoner said "I want some American cheese"—he selected five at 66s. and five at 70s.—he said the arrangement for payment would be cash for the first or second transaction or satisfactory references—I referred him to the counting-house, and told Mr. Thomas Crump—the goods were sent for to 117, Lower Marsh—the man brought back cheque number 4794—on Monday, 12th January, about 4 or 5 p.m., the prisoner came and asked for some American cheese—I asked him 74s. for that; he offered me 72s.—no bargain was made then—I showed him some butterine at 92s. a hundredweight, and some Normandy butter at 32s. a hundredweight—after he bought the butter he selected some bacon, and we talked about American cheese—I said as it was for cash I would take 71s.; he said he would have 10—then he went into the stalls and selected five sides of bacon—the goods amounted to 43l. 1s. 4d.—he said he had had no discount on the previous transaction—I said "If you did not I will have it deducted on this"—the discount would be twopence in the pound—the amount would be 42l. 11s. 4d.

Cross-examined. The first cheque was met—I do not know Mr. Stone—I know Stone, Wells, and Taylor by name—the clerk went with the carman to bring the second lot of goods back—if the prisoner had not been at homo I should not have left the goods—the clerk who went is here.

ELDRED NORTH . I am clerk to Mr. Crump—I was directed on Monday, 12th January, about 6.30 p.m., to go with the carman and the goods to 117, Lower Marsh—I had no authority to leave the goods without a cheque—the prisoner was not there—a man was there who filled up this cheque on the counter for 40l. 11s. 4d.—I said "You have made a mistake; you have left out the word 'two'"—he ran his pen through it and wrote it again—I said "I do not know whether they will take it at the bank"—he said "I have not another one, and Mr. Jackson has left this for him"—I went to sec Jackson the next day, and waited till 1 o'clock from 9 a.m.—there was a little business done, perhaps a pound taken—I went again between 3 and 4 o'clock—I saw another man in the shop; not Jackson nor the one I saw before, whose name I understand to be Robinson—I waited about an

hour—I went again next morning, and waited till my governor come at about 1 o'clock—there was about the same amount of business going on then—when Mr. Allison came the goods were removed.

Cross-examined. I kept the cheque till the goods were taken away—I cannot say whether it was ever presented at the bank—I gave it to my governor on Wednesday, the 14th—I received it on the Monday night.

Re-examined. I gave the cheque to our cashier, Mr. Andrews, and then I tried to get another in its place, and it was in trying to get another that I spent so much time in the shop.

THOMAS CRUMP . I have been credited with this cheque, E 4794, for 17l. 7s. 4d.—the other goods were to be sent and not parted with without a cheque—I authorised the London and Westminster Bank to guarantee this other cheque, which was presented on Wednesday, the 14th—I never; got the money for it—on Wednesday, the 14th, I got back part of my goods from the Lower Marsh—Mr. Warner, my foreman, will ten you mare about it.

Cross-examined. In this instance my brother presented the cheque—before the cheque was presented my brother authorised the carman to seize the goods.

WILLIAM WARNER (Re-examined). I seized about 11l. of goods on the Wednesday about 12 o'clock—20l. worth were not there—we have had My worth of them back since from the police in addition to the 11l. worth.

ELDRED NORTH (Re-examined). Three sides of bacon were not seized—four tubs of bosch and a whole cheese and four halves were seized—I saw so bacon there.

JOSEPH ELSTON (Police Sergeant L). I got a warrant about 12 o'clock on 12th January—I apprehended Jackson in Lower Marsh, Lambeth, on the same day about 130 yards from No. 117—I told him the charge was for obtaining goods by false pretences from Mr. Crump, and another charge I had better not mention—he said it was merely a business transaction—I searched him and found on him this great quantity of papers produced (These were writs, letter complaining of disfionoured cheques, &c., and bills of exchange), this cheque-book and paying in slip-book—the last cheque drawn is 12th January—that amount of cheques drawn for which counterfoils appear is 327l. odd, and the amount paid in from the paying in slip book 129l.—I went to the prisoner's other place of business at Limehouse, and seized 15 cheeses and 15 tubs of butterine and a quantity of other goods relating to another charge—it has been identified by Mr. Allison, Mr. Crump, and Mr. Shrimpton as goods delivered to Jackson.

Cross-examined. I laid a portion of the information—I do not know that Mr. Shrimpton has received back five pieces of bacon more than they delivered—I know some of the actions have not been settled—if my duties had allowed me I would have preferred another charge, but three can only be taken—the tubs were oval and of wood, and one firkin was round.

A. S. B. CARNEY (Re-examined). I now produce the daily balances as taken from the prisoner's books, also his pass book, which represents truly the cheques which have been paid—these slips have been torn from toe paying in slip book, and are vouched by the cheques—the daily balances are: December 19th, 12l. 17s.; 20th, 16s. 8d.; 22nd, 15l. 6s. 8d; 23rd, 16l. 1s. 8d.; 24th, 11l. 16s. 9d.; 27th, 6l. 4s. 1d.; 29th, 11l. 0s. 1d; 30th, 21l. 0s. 1d.; 31st, 7l. 8s.; January 1st, 15s. 6d.; then no operations on the

account till January 5th, when the balance stood at 1l. 17s. 5d.; on the 6th no operations; on the 7th, 10s. 1d; 8th, no operations; 9th, 20l. 10s. 1d. 10th, 17l. 11s. 7d; 12th, 16l. 13s. 8d; and on the 13th, 13s. 8d.—the last cheque, No. 4,795, was paid on the 13th of January—I may be wrong about the cheque being presented on the 13th of January—it is not marked; but whenever it was presented there was then only 13s. 8d. to meet it—I remember the cheque being presented perfectly—the London and WestMinster Bank, Southwark Branch, stamp is on the face of it—it was struck out, the cheque was not paid, and it was not filled up—the clerk would have signed it had he got the money.

Cross-examined. The date it was presented on is not on it—it was the fault of the London and Westminster Bank clerk not getting the cheque marked before he left the bank.

GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY** to having been convicted in June, 1877, of obtaining goods by false pretences. There was another indictment against him for similar offences.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-242
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment

Related Material

242. JAMES CROSBY (34), GATHORNE GILL (38), and HENRY LLOYD (42) , Stealing 112lb. of tobacco, the goods of the Great Northern Railway. Other Counts for receiving.

MESSRS. GRAIN and TICKELL Prosecuted; MR. STEWART WHITE appeared for Crosby, and MR. J.E. RAVEN for Gill.

CORNELIUS QUINTON . I live at 9, New Buckingham Square, Old Kent Road—I am clerk to Messrs. Charlesworth and Austin, of 48, Blackman Street, Borough, warehousemen and tobacco manufacturers—on 18th December I packed a case of tobacco, containing 30 parcels, addressed to different customers—the whole parcel was addressed to Mr. Eastley, our traveller, at Potter's Bar—I delivered it on the same day to G. Morris and Co., of the South London booking office—I recognise these six parcels as parts of the same large parcel which I made up—I recognise the word "Walters "as my writing—he is a grocer at Potter's Bar—on this paper has the same word "Walters" rubbed out—the price is from 4s. 3d. to 4s. 6d. per lb. to our customers.

Cross-examined by MR. S. WHITE. The word "Walters" Is my writing.

Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. They are half-ounce packets in the boxes, and the boxes are put in one large parcel.

Re-examined. It is all our tobacco.

EDMUND ALLEN . I am clerk to Mr. Morris, of the South London Booking Office—I remember a packet being brought by Eastley—I saw it put on one of the vans—Gives was the carman.

EDWARD GEEVES . I am a carman of the Great Northern Railway Company—on 18th December I received a package from Mr. Morris's office, which I placed on the tailboard of my van—I missed the package at the corner of Elm Street, Gray's Inn Road, where my attention was called to the rope being undone—I ran back down the Clerkenwell Road, but not seeing the package I gave information to the police.

GEORGE AUSTIN . I am one of the firm of Charlesworth and Austin, tobacco manufacturers, of 48 and 49, Blackman Street—Mr. Eastley, of Potter's Bar, is our traveller—we send him the packages by rail for distribution—on 18th December I caused a case to be packed up with various parcels of tobacco, each parcel being addressed to each individual consignee,

the whole case being addressed to Mr. Eastley—this tobacco is mine—in consequence of hearing of the loss of this parcel I communicated with my solicitor and with the police—I received instructions from them, and made an arrangement, in consequence of which, on 2nd January, I went with Detectives Walsh and Harvey to 42, Harmon Street, Hoxton, Gill's house—I saw a man outside who said "This is the man who is going to buy the tobacco"—that was in Gill's presence—I said "Where is it?"—Gill said "In my house"—I left the detectives and went into the house with Gill, down stairs into a room—it is an eight-roomed house—Gill closed and locked the door after us—he had told me his wife knew nothing of it—he unlocked a side cupboard and brought out the tobacco on the table—it is all here—he said "I am not in the tobacco trade, I want 3s. a pound for it"—said "How much have you?"—he said "From 70lb. to 80lb."—we there estimated the quantity between ourselves by overhauling it—I offered hut 9l. for the quantity of about 76lb. or 78lb.—he said "I cannot take that amount, as I gave 11l. for it, and I have to share the profit with another man"—estimating that 70lb. odd at 3s. a pound in round figures, I said "You must have sold some, or else you will not have much to share," and I said as 9l. was not agreeable to his wishes, I would buy 4lb. weight—I then arranged to take out six packages from this box, which he put in his pocket, and I took this loose tobacco out of a 4lb. parcel, and put it in this box to make up the 4lb.—it is a 4lb. box—the bargain was then complete, except I I had not paid for it—he put the remainder away, and went with me to I show some to another party, whom I told him I was buying this for, after locking the door—I then told the detectives "This man has more of this tobacco belonging to me"—he was then taken into custody—I then heard somebody say "What's o'clock?" or some such remark—the value of the big parcel was about 34l.

Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. I heard Gill say "How I came by is was Lloyd introduced me to a man named Crosby, in Denmark Street"—that was when I was in the house—I was asked what he said when takes in custody—he also gave me an address where Lloyd was to be found—it was not his address—I know there is a penalty for selling tobacco with out a licence—Gill did not tell me he had no licence—I received an anonymous letter, put an advertisement in a paper, and in consequence of something I heard I went to Gill's house—I was introduced to Gill in a public-house—my name and address is on every one of these packages.

Cross-examined by LLOYD. I do not know Mr. Watford.

GEORGE HARVEY (Detective Sergeant M). About 7.30 on 2nd January I went with Sergeant Walsh and Mr. Austin to 42, Hormon Street, Hoxton, Gill's residence—I went into the house—I said to Gill "What about this tobacco?"—he said "Well, tell me what's o'clock"—I said "We mean to get to the bottom of it—he said "I bought it of a man named Crosby, he lives at No. 9, Denmark Street, Islington; I was introduced to him by a man named Lloyd; Lloyd lives somewhere in Walworth, I do not know the number of the house, or the street, but I could take you to it; but if you go round to Fans haw Street you might find him there"—Walsh and Mr. Austin mm left to look after Lloyd—he said he knew Lloyd as a traveller for the same firm—when Gill and I were left together, Gill said he had had previous transactions with Crosby, and that Crosby lived at No, 9, Denmark street

Islington—we were all this time in the back parlour—after waiting there some time I heard a knock; Gill's wife let in Lloyd—I asked him in, and locked the door—Gill said "This is a policeman; there is some bother about this tobacco; you were here when Crosby brought it, you were to help me to sell it, and share the profits"—Lloyd said "Yes, I was not present when the deal in the tobacco was made, I was here when it was brought; I know Crosby as attending sales, and did not know there was anything wrong about it"—Walsh and Mr. Austin then came back, and we all went to the station with the tobacco—the prisoners were charged at the station—they made a statement to Inspector Fox.

Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. Gill gave the explanation at once—he said he had bought some a places of Crosby, that he had done nothing for some time, and was glad to earn a few shillings—I believe that is true—I bow nothing against Gill's character—his wife employs some girls in some millinery or something—whatever may be the result of this trial, Gill is liable to a penalty to the Excise.

JAMES WALSH (Detective Sergeant M). On 2nd of January I was with Harvey and Mr. Austin at 42, Harmon Street, both Harvey and I said "What about this tobacco?"Gill said "What o'clock is it."—we went down stairs and opened a cupboard in a front parlour, and brought out all the tobacco produced here, with the exception of the one box that Mr. Austin had chosen—I asked Gill how he came possessed of it—Gill said that he bought it of a man named Crosby—Lloyd was present—Gill brought the tobacco upstairs, and from what he said, viz., that we should see Lloyd, we went to 52, Fenchurch Street—Gill said he had given 10l. for the tobacco—we did not see Lloyd at 52,'Fenchurch Street, but from what we were told there we went to several public-houses in the neighbourhood, and left word that if Lloyd should come he was to come to Gill's house at once—I afterwards went back to Gill's house, found Lloyd there, and took him in custody to the station—he said, "I was to sell it and share in the profits, that is all I know about it—I was there when Crosby brought it—from what Gill told me, I and Police-constable Gaskin went to 9, Denmark Street the next morning, about 5 o'clock, and walked about in the street till the door was opened between 7 and 8 o'clock—I asked for the landlord—we went up to the back room and found. Crosby in bed with his wife and child—I said "We are policemen; we come to you respecting that tobacco which you sold to Gill, of 42, Harmon Street"—he said "I know nothing about any tobacco, you can search the place and you will find no tobacco here"—we searched the place, and in a jar I found this tobacco (produced)—we took Crosby in a cab to Stone's End Police-station—he there said "I met a man named George in the City Road with a pony and a four-wheeled trap; he asked me up in the trap, and when I got into it he told me he had some tobacco, could I get him a customer for it; I said 'Yes,' and I took him to Gill's, at 42, Harmon Street; it was to two sacks; I took in one, and this man named George took in the other; Gill paid him 10l. at the Queen's Head public-house in my pre sense in a private bar; it was placed in Gill's room, that is all I know about it"—I said "Gill said he gave you the money"—he said "It is lie for Gill, if he said so, for he never gave me any of the money, he gave it to George.,

Cross-examined by MR. S. WHITE. I know Johnson and Dimond's—

Crosby said "George," as attending sales by that firm as a dealer he only knew his Christian name, that he was a fair-haired and fair-faced man—conversation took place in the library—the billiard room is the same room—Crosby made this statement of his own free will—I have been to Johnson and Dimond's to make inquiries—I know some of the dealers, but not much to their credit—I could gather no information about "George" at Johnson and Dimond's.

Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. "What o'clock is it?"Is a West Country expression for "What is up?"

CORNELIUS QUINTON (Re-examined). There are several qualities of tobacco here—it is similar to mine.

By MR. S. WHITE. I said at the police-court it was rather musty—it is a mixture—people sometimes make up their own mixture—I have done so. Matthew Fox (Inspector M). On 2nd January, about 11 p.m., I was talking to the officers who had charge of this case at the police-station, when Gill voluntarily came to where I was sitting and said, "I wish to tell you all about it; I bought this tobacco, I thought it was a job lot, of a man named Crosby for 2s. a pound; Crosby was introduced to me by Lloyd; I had dealings with Crosby before; I bought some alpaca and stuff from him, and made some money out of it; me and Lloyd arranged to sell this tobacco between us and to divide the profits; I sold 4lb. of it in a billiard room in the City to a man whom I do not know for 3s.,"I think he said; he had said 2s. before; "I also sold some to Mr. Gearns in the Walworth Road"—Lloyd came up and listened, and then said "I have introduced you to Crosby on another occasion, but I have not introduced this job to you"—Gill said "You knew all about it; you were there the night he brought it; we arranged that before, and you sold some tobacco and did not account for the money"—Lloyd said "I did sell 4lb. of it to a friend of mine in Deacon Street, Walworth, for 10s. the Saturday before Christmas; I wanted the money badly, and I did not give any of it to Gillon—I went to Deacon Street, and found the statement to be correct—I found the packet there.

Cross-examined by Mr. Raven. Gill said Crosby was introduced to him by Lloyd a short time ago, and Lloyd said "I did introduce Crosby to him some time ago, but not for this job"—I have no doubt as to the respectability of Gill's friends.

GILL received a good character.

GUILTY of receiving.—Six Months' Imprisonment.


He also PLEADED GUILTY*† to having been convicted at Newington Sessions in February, 1871.

He received a good character.—Five Years' Penal Servitude.

LLOYD— GUILTY of receiving.—Six Months' Imprisonment.


Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-243
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

243. CATHERINE HURLEY (24) was indicted for feloniously killing and slaying Catherine Hurley the younger. She was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. A. B. KELLY Defended at the request of the Court.

REGINALD HANN . I am a porter at the workhouse of St. Olave, Southwark

—the prisoner was admitted there on 16th April, and was there confined with a female child—she left with her child on 10th May: they both appeared then to be in good heath—she gave her name as Catherine Hurley, and her age as 24, single woman—on 22nd August the child was brought to the workhouse by Sarah Crawley with an order from the relieving officer for admission, and it was fed and washed and kept there that night—next day, the 23rd, the prisoner came with Crawley and took the child away—it was then very poorly; the medical officer saw it that morning—on 17th January, at a quarter to seven in the morning, the prisoner came to the workhouse and stated that she was destitute, and that her child, aged nine months, was seriously ill; she had it in her arms—I took her and the child into the workhouse—I informed the master, and the nurse was sent for, and they were sent down to the receiving ward, and the child was examined—I just looked at it; it was dead; I told the prisoner so; she only cried; that was before she went to the receiving ward—I did not see the child afterwards.

Cross-examined. The prisoner seemed very much cut up with grief; she appeared quite destitute—I touched the child; it was still warm—it was in her arms, covered up in a shawl to protect it from the cold—it had very clean clothing on—when I told her it was dead she exhibited great grief—when she took the child out on 23rd August she said she had come for the child because she missed it; that she had been away to look for work, and the had missed it on her return.

SARAH CRAWLEY . I live at 17, College Street, Tooley Street—I know the prisoner; she is a single woman—in August last a girl named Bryant had the care of this child; she is a young woman of 21 or 22, living at 9, College Street—she came to me with the child; it seemed pretty well; I got an order from the relieving officer, and took the child to St. Olave's Workhouse, and left it there—next day the prisoner came to me; she cried very bitterly—I said it was wrong for her to leave the child—she was not in College Street that day, I don't know where she was—she said she had ascertained that the child was in the workhouse—I told her they would deliver it up to her if she went for it—she said she was frightened to go herself for fear they would lock her up, that she had no intention to desert it, would I go with her and get it away—I went with her, and the child was given up to her—I frequently saw her in the street afterwards with the child—I can't say where she was living.

Cross-examined. I knew her before Bryant brought me the child; she worked for Mr. Joseph, a fur dealer in the Dover Road—she told me that she left the child with Bryant because she had to go and look for work—I vent with her to the workhouse, and was present when the child was given up to her; she took it in a kindly manner, and gave it the breast—she trapped it up in her shawl, and cuddled it up to her as a mother would—as far as I could judge, she always seemed attentive to and fond of the child—I never saw her ill-treat it in any way.

CATHERINE BRYANT . I live at 9, College Street—I know the prisoner—I was present when the child was born—she got a woman to mind it while she was away at Work—I remember in August her going to look for work; I minded the child While she was away—I took it to Mrs. Crawley, and it was taken to the workhouse—the prisoner went and took it out next day—she was out of work for about two weeks before the child died; she went

to look for work, and could not find it—she had no one to mind the child; she used to carry it about with her in her arms—she went to look for work, and took the child with her—she said she was unable to get work because she was obliged to mind the child—she appeared to be an affectionate mother to it.

Cross-examined. She was at a lodging in Snow's Fields when she gave me the child to mind; she had a bed there for the night—she came to our house, and asked me to mind the child; she said she was out of employment, and was going to look for a day's work.

EVELINE KENNON . I live at 8, Palmer's Rents, Southwark—I have known the prisoner for some years; she used to work for her living—on Friday night, 16th January, I was at my stall in St. Thomas's Street between 7 and 8 o'clock—the prisoner came up to me with her child in her arms; it was wrapped up in her shawl, and she warmed it at my fire—she said it was very bad, that she had bought some milk and warmed it, but she could not make it take anything; it looked very bad indeed—I said "Have you got the child under a doctor's care?"—she said "No"—I said "Take her down to the house, to the doctor's; the child is very bad"—she said "It is too late now to take it down," she would go in the morning and see the doctor—I left her at my stall by the fire to keep the baby warm—about a quarter to 6 o'clock in the morning she came and knocked at my window, and told me the child was dead—she was crying—I told her to leave off crying, and take it down to the house—she had the child with her.

Cross-examined. I keep a fruit stall—I had chestnuts, and kept a small fire for them; it was to that small fire that she came to warm the child—she said the child would take nothing for two days before—she seemed in a very distressed state, and cried—she stopped at my stall a longish time—I left her there by the fire when I went home—she was a hardworking woman—she had another child to maintain, a fine little fellow. Jake Bates. I am midwifery nurse at St. Olave's workhouse—at a quarter to 7 o'clock on Saturday morning, the 17th, I saw the prisoner with a child in her arms; it was then dead; it had on a nightgown, shirt, two pieces of flannel' and two diapers, and was wrapped in a shawl which she had on—I saw the body of the child, it was in a very horrible state, very thin—I asked her if she had found the child dead in bed—she said no—she was out on a doorstep in the street—she had slept there, passed the night on the doorstep—she said she know the child was dead when she brought it to the workhouse—she had no bonnet on—she seemed in very great distress about it.

Cross-examined. She looked very miserable and destitute—she said she did not think the child could have been long dead—it was not quite cold when I examined it.

JOHN GETTINS . I am medical officer of St. Olave's Workhouse—I do not remember being present when the child was born, but I attended the prisoner afterwards in April—when she left the workhouse the child was in good health, a fairly nourished child—I saw it again on 23rd August, it was not looking anything like so well then—the prisoner came to fetch it from the workhouse—I told her she must take care of it, or else she would get into trouble, she would find it dead some day—she said she did not mean to leave the child, she had gone to look for work and had left it in charge of some person—on Saturday morning, 17th January, a little

after 7 o'clock, I was sent for to the workhouse—I found the prisoner there, and the child was in the some room, the reception ward—I looked at it—it was dead, and it had been dead some time, I thought about three hours; but I could not say exactly—I said to the prisoner, "Where were you when you found the child dead?"—she said, "Sitting on a doorstep in College Street"—I said, "How long had you been there?"—she said, "Two or three hours"—I said, "That was sufficient to kill the child, to keep it out in such a cold night as it has been"—she said, "I could not help it, I had no place to go to"—she was quite sober—I think the child's clothing was off when I saw it—I saw the state of the body; there were no marks of violence; it was very much emaciated and dirty—I made a post-mortem examination—I found the organs generally healthy, with the exception of a little congestion of the lower part of the lungs; that was from exposure to cold—it could not have been of very long standing, 48, hours would do it with a child—there was no fat on the child—the stomach was empty, and the bowels, with the exception of a little water—I weighed the child, it weighed 6lb. 9oz.—the average weight of a child of that age would be quite 14lb.—in my judgment the cause of death was want of proper food and exposure to cold—a child poorly fed would be more susceptible of the cold—keeping it out in the street all night, I should think, would be sufficient to cause its death, even if wrapped up in a shawl.

Cross-examined. Congestion of the lungs will very frequently occur in infant of tender age, however Well cared for—there is then an indisposition to take food—there was very little congestion of the lungs in this case—that congestion would not be likely to make the child refuse its food—in a child of that age the mother's milk would be its proper food—congestion of the lungs would to some degree incapacitate the child from taking heavier food—infants often refuse to take other food—there was about two teaspoonfuls of water in the stomach—there was no appearance of poison—I did not analyse it—I think I could undertake to say that there was no aniseed in it—I did not smell it—I will not undertake to say there was not aniseed—cow's milk would be a proper food.

DAVID DEANE (Police Sergeant M 9). I attended the inquest on the child, and. at the adjournment I took the prisoner into custody—I told her she would be charged with causing the death of her child—she said she did not know the child was dead when she took it to the workhouse—she had been short of work, which was the reason she was in that state—she appeared in a destitute state.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was destitute, and in want of food myself. I have no home or habitation.



Before Mr. Recorder.

9th February 1880
Reference Numbert18800209-244
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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244. WILLIAM HENRY CONNOR (25) , Unlawfully aiding William Connor, a bankrupt, in withholding part of his property from his trustee in bankruptcy.



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