Old Bailey Proceedings.
27th February 1882
Reference Number: t18820227

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Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
27th February 1882
Reference Numberf18820227

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Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,








Law Booksellers and Publishers.



On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, February 27th, 1882, and following days,

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Court of Justice; Sir ROBERT WALTER GARDEN , Knt., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M. P., Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., M. P., Sir THOMAS WHITE , Knt., Sir THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Knt., and WILLIAM MCARTHUR , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., M. P., Recorder of the said City; JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., EDGAR BREFFIT, Esq., SIMEON CHARLES HADLEY, ESQ., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q. C., D. C. L., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL. D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court: Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.


Sheriffs |






A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.


OLD COURT.—Monday, February 27th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-287
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

287. BENOIT BERNARD HOFMAN (35) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling 29l. 15s., 11l. 3s., and 15l. 2s. 6d.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-288
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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288. ROBERT CARLING (40) , Unlawfully obtaining by false, pretences from Mary Ann Foster two dogs and a basket Also receiving the same.

MESSRS. MEAD and GOODRICH Prosecuted; MESSRS. FULTON and GREENFIELD Defended. MARY ANN FOSTER. I am the wife of Jonas Foster, of 40, Chesham Street, Horton Road, Bradford, Yorkshire—we are breeders of dogs—we exhibit them at shows—on 12th December last we exhibited, amongst others, two Yorkshire toy terriers, a dog and a bitch—I valued them at 70l.; they were sold at the reduced price of 60l.—they were what we call silver blue back with long hair; the head and the feet are a light golden tan—silver blue means slate colour—each dog was under 4 lb. weight—the prisoner also exhibited dogs in the next pen to ours or the next but one; he had seen our dogs—on 12th December a gentleman came to my stall and spoke about the two dogs; he was very well dressed, with a light overcoat, which was buttoned up, and he was very full in the face; he had a tall hat; his height was about 5 feet 9 inches—he was rather dark; he had a full moustache and a little whisker, but I am not sure about his beard—I should say his moustache was brown—I took the dogs out of the pen and showed them to him—a lady was with him when-he first came—I agreed to sell them to the gentleman at the close of the show for 60l.—whilst I was talking to him the prisoner came up, touched his hat, and said "How do you do, Mr. Ramsay?"—he made some answer, but I did not hear what it was—then the gentleman and the lady went away—the next day was the close of the show; the gentleman came again, and I put the dogs into an open willow basket which had a division in it, and the lid of which was lined with a piece of print like this (produced)—the interior of the basket was lined with another kind of print

—on the previous day I asked the prisoner if he knew the gentleman he spoke to—he said "Well, not particularly, only I sold him a dog for 12l. which was not worth more than 2l."—I said "You are a wretch doing a thing like that"—he said "He has got plenty of money," and that is what induced me to take the cheque—I gave the dogs to Mr. Ramsay in the basket—I afterwards went to the secretary's office and found Mr. Ramsay there. (The cheque was on the London and Westminster Bank, Bloomsbury Branch, dated 13th Decmber, 1881, drawn by H. Ramsay, pay to M. A. Foster 60l.) I returned to Bradford that night and paid the cheque to tradesmen in the town—on the Friday afternoon I got a telegram to say the cheque was dishonoured—I received this letter (This was dated 16th December, from R. Carling, Ship Tavern, Lime Street: " Here is a man in London offering your Yorkshire terriers; have you lost any? wire me at once")—I telegraphed for him to look after them, as there was something wrong—I went up to London and com-municated with the police at Scotland Yard—on the 17th December I went to see the prisoner in Leadenhall Market—on 19th I got a warrant for the apprehension of Ramsay—when I asked the prisoner if he knew where the dogs were he said he had not seen them—I asked him if he could tell us where they had been trying to sell them—he said he believed at Bird's and Bevan's over the water; he said "I will have a look round at the dog places, and if I can find them I will take possession of them, but you must pay all expenses"—of course I did not promise anything—the prisoner said if the Prince of Wales had them he would take possession of them; he said he had seen them times enough and knew the dogs—the letters produced were addressed to me (From the prisoner, one stating that he had been round to the dog places, but could get little information, but would write again when he got any news; the other letter expressed surprise that Mrs. Foster should judge him to be mixed up in the affairt and send police officers to annoy him).

Cross-examined. This letter produced came after I left home; it was sent to Scotland Yard ("This was asking Mrs. Foster to wire the prisoner at the Ship, Lime Street, if he could do anything for her)—I have known Carling nine years; he was respectable up to this affair—toy terriers are very valuable dogs, and are always very much admired—I only had Mr. Ramsay's offer at the show; I had not seen him before—Carling took no part in the conversation between me and Ramsay with regard to the dogs—the lady did not return with him when he came for the dogs—I did not say to the prisoner with regard to Ramsay "He is coming back to-morrow, and if I cannot sell them for more I am going to let him have them for 60l."—I did not know whether Ramsay would return—I would not take a cheque from a stranger without inquiry; I do not swear I have not done so—I know the London and Westminster Bank by repute—I do not know whether Ramsay had a light overcoat on—it was not very light in colour; I think it was rather brown; I said it was dark before the Magistrate because at first I thought it was black; then when I came to think more about it I thought it was brown—I heard Hunter examined before the Magistrate; I cannot remember saying that his description of Jackson did not correspond with my recollection of Ramsay; I do not think it did exactly-Ramsay said the basket would be of no use to him; he would send it me back; it was not round, but oblong, with a division in the centre.

Re-examined. Any one who knew what dogs I had would have no difficulty in identifying the dogs—I cannot recollect that Ramsay had a hatband, but he had a tall hat—I am not sure about the beard on the chin.

ALFRED BENTLEY . I am a clerk in the Bloomsbury Branch of the London and Westminster Bank—we have no customer of the name of Ramsay—the signature to this cheque is not that of any customer of our bank—our cashier wrote "No account" across it.

RICHARD HUNTER . I am a carman and live at 32, Martin's Street, Blackfriars Road—on 14th December, a few minutes after 5, I was having my tea—a message was given to me, in consequence of which I went to the Joiners' Arms, kept by Mr. Bird, in the Westminster Bridge Boad—I saw the prisoner; he said "You are not the man"—I had never spoken to him, and I said "Perhaps not, sir"—he said "Your name is not Bevan?"—I said "No, air, my name is Hunter"—then he asked me if I knew Bevan—I said "Yes," and that he lived at 5, Warwick Street, Blackfriars Road, round by the Surrey Theatre—he asked me to have something to drink; I said I had just had my tea; he persuaded me and I had half a pint of mild and bitter—he said "Does Bevan buy dogs to send away?"—I said "Yes, sir; he buys them for the French people, and his father beforehim"—he said "Will you go with me to Bevan's, as I am a stranger about here?" and I agreed to do so, and went with him, aud the potman Randall joined us—when we got outside the door he put up his finger and called "Hist," when two other people followed us; they looked as if they had come from another compartment of the same public-house—I did not see them come out—one of the men stood six feet high, and carried-a brown cane basket, and was dressed like a gentleman all in black, with a tall hat and a hatband on it; they called him Jackson—we all went to Bevan's at 5, Warwick Street, except the potman, who left us—I knocked at Bevan's door, and Mrs. Bevan answered; I asked if Bevan was at home; she said "No"—the prisoner said "I wish he was at home, for I have got two pretty little toys we can sell him"—Mrs. Bevan said he would be in in naif an hour's time—I said "Is he at the Flowers of the Forest?"—she said she did not know, and we all four went to the Flowers of the Forest, and found he was not there—we remained about three-quarters of an hour; I had half a pint of mild and bitter, and we had a cigar each—the prisoner paid for them—while I was in the Flowers of the Forest the prisoner said "Here's two you don't very often see;" then he pulled out of the basket and showed me two little Yorkshire toy terriers, one from each side of the partition in the basket; they were a dog and a bitch—I said "I never saw two like them of this breed in my life, not that size, so small"—they had silver blue backs, with golden tan heads, the mane coming right over the top of the head, with a bunch coming over the eyes; the hair was very long for little dogs like them—I know a goodish dog if I see one—I went to see if Bevan had returned home, and he had not, and I went back to the Flowers of the Forest and told the prisoner Bevan had not returned—Jackson said he wanted to get away, and that he would be too late for the Birmingham train—the prisoner said he was sorry having made a fool of him, not having sold the dogs—the prisoner and Jackson went outside and spoke to each other, and came in again and asked whether I knew where they would be likely to find Bevan—I said "He

might be at Baker's, at the Coach and Horses"—that is about half a mile off—I told them Baker bought good dogs—they asked me whether I would go with Jackson to Baker's—Jackson and I went in a cab, and the basket was put in the cab—Bevan was not there—the prisoner had said at the Flowers of the Forest" I will stop here till you come back"—we carried the dogs into the back parlour, and Jackson went in and had a conversation with Baker, which I did not hear as I came into the bar—Jackson brought the basket out and asked me to put it in the cab; the dogs were in the basket—I said to Baker "Did not they suit you?"—he said "They are too good for me ".—it was there I saw the man they called "Jacko"—I got into the cab again with Jackson, and we took them back to the Flowers of the Forest—when we got back I told the prisoner what Baker said—Jackson paid for the cab—when the prisoner was going away Jackson said it cost him about a pound in cabs going about trying to sell those dogs—I afterwards went to the Joiners' Arms and saw Jacko; he made a statement to me—I tried to find the dogs, and showed him where I left them—in consequence of what Jacko told me I went to see Baker, and from what Baker said I went to Leaden-hall Market the next day—I saw the prisoner with another tall man called "Germy"—I told the prisoner "There is a row about the dogs he has got; I think they are Mrs. Foster's dogs"—he said "Well, I did not think they were right myself"—I said "If you know where they are you had better send them back; Jacko is Mrs. Foster's man, and he will write back to Mrs. Foster and let her know about them"—he said "I do not know about the dogs; I wish I had not seen them"—I said "lam not going to get myself into a row; I shall up and tell all I know about them"—he said "You don't know me"—I said "What is the, good your saying that when Mrs. Bird fetched me to you previously"—then I went away to Mr. Hewitt and told him to send away no dogs—the following Saturday afternoon, when I was at work with Bird, the police came—Jackson was about 5 feet 9 inches, with whiskers, beard, and moustache, and very dark.

Cross-examined. A dog show is held at the Joiners' Arms once a fort-night-sometimes sales of dogs occur, but not often—I worked for Mr. Trigg, a contractor, ten years—I have since been carman for the Lion Brewery—I have often been at the Joiners' Arms—I did not-know Carling frequented there—I do not think I said before the Magistrate about the prisoner asking "Does not Bevan buy dogs to send away?" but those are the words he said—I do not know what Germy was—he was a kind of working-man; he wore a felt hat and long black coat—it was about 4.30 when I went to Leadenhall Market.

JOHN RANDALL . I am potman and barman at the Joiners' Arms—the prisoner was there in December—he asked me if I knew Jackson or Johnson, I won't be sure which, of Surrey Street, Westminster Bridge Road—I said I did not—he then asked me if I knew Bevan—I said no—I then left—Hunter was sent for as he was the likeliest man to know—later on I saw the prisoner in the bar with Hunter—I saw them leave together—two others were in the bar—one of them had a long square basket made of brown cane as near as I could see—they joined the-prisoner and Hunter, and the four went together towards Bevan's.

Cross-examined. The house is much frequented by dog fanciers—there is a dog show once a fortnight—a sale is not a frequent thing—the Object of the show is for the owners to exhibit their breed of dogs.

ROBERT CINDERLEY . I am barman at the Flowers of the Forest, Blackfriars Bridge Road—shortly before Christmas the prisoner was in the bar with three others—a basket was on the floor beside the counter—I saw a long blue-coated dog produced from the basket—cigars and ale were ordered—the prisoner paid for them—the two tall men left and came back again—Hunter left alone before that.

JOHN BAKER . I am the landlord of the Coach and Horses, in Brandon Street, Walworth—on Wednesday, 14th December, about 8.10, Hunter came there in a cab with a gentleman answering to the name of Jackson—Hunter asked if Mr. Be van was in—I said "Mr. Bevan is not here"—he said "I have got a gentleman outside who has got two very nice Yorkshire terriers in a basket"—then he brought in a brown cane basket, and Jackson came in—there was a partition in the middle of the basket—Jackson called for two glasses of mild and Burton, and said "Have you got a private room?"—I said "No, I have got a tap-room"—we went in the taproom and Jackson showed us a dog. and a bitch—two blue Yorkshire rough-coated dogs with tan face and light blue body—Jackson asked if I would buy them—I looked at them and said they were too good to be offered for sale in a beerhouse—he asked 30l. for them—he said he had lost his wife and they were her little pets—he was dressed in black; his height was 5 feet 8 inches or 9 inches—he had dark hair on his face and a moustache—he was not in there more than about five minutes—I had been to the Alexandra Dog Show and had seen similar dogs—a man named Jacko was at the bar—I spoke to him about the dogs—he went away—Hunter came again the next morning—I made a statement to him—the two men left together taking the basket, and went away in a cab.

Cross-examined. I did not notice the print produced. WALTER ANDREWS (Police Inspector). Inspector Savage and I arrested the prisoner on 5th January, outside the Ship Tavern, in Lime Street, by Leadenhall Market—Savage addressed him and read the warrant to him—I heard no reply—we conveyed him by train to Tottenham—on the way he said "Am I charged by Mrs. Foster?"—I said "No, you are charged on a warrant signed by the Magistrate at Tottenham"—he said "I only want Mrs. Foster to have the key turned on me; I am going to reserve my defence till I get before the Magistrate. "

FREDERICK SAVAGE (Police Inspector). I was with Mrs. Foster on the 17th December in Leadenhall Market—we met the prisoner in the market and went outside; he said "Have you come about your dogs, Mrs. Foster? Did you get my telegram?"—she said. "Yes, it was that that brought me here"—he said "I sent another telegram and a letter; I thought your husband might come up"—she said "Do you knew where my dogs are?"—he said "No, I have not seen them; I will go and look round the dog places to-morrow, and if I can find them I will" get them back for you; I do not care who has got them, but you will have to stand all the expenses"—I said "Can you tell me where to find this man Ramsay?"—he said "No, all I know about him, Mrs. Foster, is what I told you before, that I sold him a dog for 12l. that was only worth 2l., he paid me"—I said "Can you tell me any place where these dogs have been taken to; where I can hear of them?"—he said "Well, at Bevan's over the water, Victoria Theatre way-"—I said "Is that all you can tell us about it?"—he said "Yes," and we left him—I went and

saw him again on the 20th, that would be the Tuesday following, at the ship Tavern, Lime Street; another officer was with me—he said "Have you come about the dogs?"—I said "Yes"—he said u I have not heard anything about them"—I said "You were at the Joiners' Arms public-house, the Flowers of the Forest, and other places on Wednesday with some other men, and you had the dogs with you trying to sell them"—he said "I went to Bird's," that is the Joiners' Arms," on some business of my own to find a man named Bevan; I do not know who the men were, nor what they had; I never saw any dogs; they must have heard me ask for Bevan, and followed me"—I then left him—on 5th January I went with a warrant and arrested him—I read the warrant, and he said "I will go with you. ",

Cross-examined. I told the prisoner I was a police officer on 20th, not on the 17th December—after I told him that he made the statement "I went to Bird's on business of my own"—I was in plain clothes.

The prisoner received a good character.


NEW COURT.—Monday, February 27th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-289
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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289. PETER SMITH (44) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.—See Third Court, Wednesday. And

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-290
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

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290. THOMAS JONES (17) to forging and uttering an order for 21l. 5s. 7d. with intent to defraud. Recommended to mercy by the prosecutors.— Six Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-291
VerdictNot Guilty > fault

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291. WILLIAM JACKSON (52) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin his possession with intent to utter it.



JOHN GEORGE LITTLECHILD (Police Inspector). On 2nd February, be-tween 2 and 3 p.m., I was in the Strand, and saw the prisoner and a woman leave a public-house at the corner of Newcastle Street—I said "Is your name Braker?"—he said "No; my name is Smith"—I said "Mr. Smith, you will have to accompany me a short distance"—he ran across the Strand, and dropped this small parcel wrapped in rag from his right hand—I picked it up, gave chase, and shortly before capturing him he dropped another small parcel which Savage picked up—I handed him over to an officer in uniform, and he was taken to Bow Street, where I examined the parcel; it contained counterfeit florins with paper between each, and wrapped in this rag—the other parcel was examined in my presence; it contained three bad half-crowns wrapped in paper separately—he was charged with being in unlawful possession of ten counterfeit florins and three counterfeit half-crowns—he said "I know nothing about bad money"—the woman was brought to the station; nothing was found on her, and she was not charged—this purse was found on the prisoner containing good money, three florins, a half-crown, a sixpence, and seven pence three farthings.

Cross-examined. The Strand was not crowded—I crossed without waiting—the Bed Lion is on the north side of the Strand; the prisoner crossed to the south side, and I followed him at the east end of the church—I had been in the public-house and saw about two persons there

besides the prisoner and his friends—two women came out with him, and one went after him—I mistook the prisoner for Braker—when I accosted the prisoner he ran back to the north side again, and I took him there—the woman was by his side till he began to run—I did not show him the coins, but I told him he would be charged with unlawful possession of the coins which he had dropped from his hand.

Re-examined. I did not lose sight of him for a moment till I caught him.

FREDERICK SAVAGE (Police Inspector). I was with Littlechild; we went into the public-house and saw the prisoner there—he left with a woman; they crossed the road and went along the Strand towards Somerset House—Littlechild went up to him and said "Is your name Braker?"—he said 'No, Smith"—Littlechild said "You must come with us a little way," and he turned and ran as hard as he could back to die north side leaving the woman?—I saw him throw down a bundle in the road which Littlechild picked up—we both ran, and as Littlechild laid hold of the prisoner he threw another packet on the pavement which I picked up; it contained three bad half-crowns with newspaper between each—this is not the original paper, that got worn out—the prisoner was given in charge to a constable.

Cross-examined. Two other men who were with the prisoner went into a urinal; they had been in the public-house—I cannot say whether they went over to the south side—there was nothing to stop us as we ran across the road—I heard Littlechild charge the prisoner—he said "I know nothing about bad money. "

Re-examined. At that time Littlechild had shown him the parcel—he was charged with unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession—he said nothing about having dropped it.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these three half-crowns and ten florins are bad—the three half-crowns are from the same mould—seven of the florins are from one mould, and three from another.

GUILTY. He was further charged with having been convicted at this Court of feloniously having counterfeit coin in his possession.

JOHN ROBERTSON . I am a warder of Pentonville Prison—I produce a certificate. (This certified the conviction of the William Smith at this Court in April 1873, of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.) I was not present at his trial, but I received him into penal servitude—the prisoner is the man—there is no doubt about it.

Cross-examined. It was nine years ago, and since then I have had several thousands of men under my care—I have some hundreds annually—I simply saw him when he came into prison—I was reception warden—I introduce prisoners to their apartments, and I take them to chapel, sometimes, and to exercise—I will not swear that I took this man to chapel—I see prisoners for perhaps an hour on the day I take them in, but I see them every day—I see them at exercise walking round in single file—they have caps on, but no peaks to them—we keep prisoners there eight or ten months—this photograph (produced) comes from the convict office, and I think I may safely say that it is a photograph of the prisoner—I cannot say whether I saw it taken—I should say that this was a photograph of the prisoner even if I had never seen his face before.

NOT GUILTY of the previous conviction. MR. GEOGHEGAN then applied to

the Court to quash the indictment, as it alleged that the prisoner had committed this offence after having been convicted of felony, which the Jury had found was not the case, and therefore the indictment must fall to the ground. (See Reg. v. Thomas, Queen's Bench Divisional Reports.) THE COURT, upon the authority of Reg. v. Thomas, quashed the indictment, and a fresh bill was sent to the Grand Jury. (See p.)

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-292
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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292. HENRY HIGGS (38) and JAMES COOPER (19) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted. WILLIAM PHILPOTTS. I am a tram conductor—-on February 2, about 9.10 p.m. the prisoners got into my tram at Burdett Road, and when I collected the fares they each gave me a sixpence—I gave them 5d. each and put the coins into my bag, where there was another sixpence—I had examined my money at Hackney, and it was all good—the prisoners got in together and got out together—when I' got to Limehouse I found I had got two bad sixpences—on my return journey at 10.10 the prisoners got in again, and when I took the fares they again each gave me a six-pence—I found they were bad at once—I kept them in my hand till I got to Mile End Road, and then gave the prisoners in custody with the four coins.

Cross-examined by Higgs. There were plenty of people in the tram, but you were the two last I took moneyfrom.

Cross-examined by Cooper. When I got to Limehouse I changed one sixpence and found it was bad, and then I found the other was bad—I cannot say which of them I took from you—I took la second coin from you knowing that the first was bad because I wanted to keep you in the car till I got to a policeman.

AARON SHIPPERTON (City Policeman 495). Philpotts gave the prisoners into my custody for uttering had money—they made no answer—I found on Higgs 1s. 6d. in silver and 101l. 2d. in copper; and on Cooper a sixpence and 4s. 9d. in bronze, some in every pocket.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These four sixpences are bad, and all from the same mould.

Higgs's Defence. I do not think I should have got into the tram two of us going to offer four bad sixpences.

Cooper produced a written defence stating that he believed the coins to be good.


They then both PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction together of a like offence in April, 1880.— Two Years' Hard labour each.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-293
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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293. EMILIA HYLAND (18) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin. MESSES. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.

EMILY WHITFIELD . My father keeps a public house in High Street, Bloomsbury—on 24th January, about 8.20 p.m., the prisoner came and asked for some spirits—I said "We don't sell them"—she then asked for some sherry and gave me a shilling, I gave her ninepence change and put the coin in the till where there was no other money—she came in again in about five minutes for a pint of ale and gave me a shilling, which I put in the till, and gave her eight pence change—in a few minutes she came again and fetched the same quantity of ale and gave me a shilling, I gave her eightpence change—in about five minutes she came again for spirits—I

said ""Wo do not sell spirits"—she gave me a shilling, which I gave to my father, who said "This shilling is bad," and gave her in custody—I took no shilling from anybody else—we searched the till and found a half-crown and four shillings—my father did not put the fourth shilling into the till—I was present when my father searched the till before the prisoner came in the last time—I noticed no shilling but the three there.

Prisoner. I was only in the shop once.

EDMUND WHITFIELD . I left my daughter in charge of my bar for twenty minutes or half an hour, between 8 and 9 o'clock, and when I came back I went to the till and found three bad shillings—while I was talking to her the prisoner came in, and she served her with a pint of ale in a bottle—my daughter showed me the shilling the prisoner gave her and I said" It looks bad"—she said that she did not know it was bad—I gave her in custody with the shillings—there was no bad money in the till when I left—I cleared the till between 10 and 11 o'clock.

Cross-examined. I saw no shillings in the till but the three bad ones, and I do not see how there could have been, as I make it a practice to clear the till when I. leave the bar. (The witness's deposition stated u There were other shillings and half-crowns. ") There might have been one or two more shillings, I can't say.

FREDERICK WINKWORTH . I am an engraver, of 18, Charlton Street, Fitzroy Square—I was in Mr. Whitfield's house on the night of 24th January, and saw the prisoner come in four times—she tendered a shilling each time for drink at intervals of four or five minutes—the last time she tendered a shilling Mr. Whitfield examined it and told the prisoner it was bad—she said that she did not know it—he gave her in custody.

Cross-examined. I was in the opposite bar and you and I faced each other.

GEORGE SUGG (Policeman E 363). The prisoner was given into my charge—the till was searched and three other shillings found there—she said that a man gave her the shilling to fetch some ale with—-that was the one she uttered last.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling is bad—the three shillings taken from the till are also bad, and one is from the same mould as the last.

Prisoner's Defence. I am an unfortunate girl. I had the shilling given to me and did not know it was bad.

GUILTY of the last uttering only .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday February 28th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-294
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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294. SAMUEL JAMES SWAINLAND (23) , Stealing from a post letter a 10l. Bank of England note, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster General. Second Count—the property of Edward Jones . MESSRS. COWIE and BAGGALLAY Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS


EDWARD JONES . I live at 2, Cambrian Place, South Hetton, Sunder land, and. am a marine engineer—in January I was chief engineer oh board the Chiswick, and on 4th January I attended at the St. Katherine's

Dock shipping office to be paid off—I received 53l. 7s. 2d., in five 10l. notes, and the rest in coin—I had no other 10l. notes in my possession at that time—that was about 2.30 in the afternoon—I wrapped up the notes, put them in my purse, and put my purse in my trousers pocket—I then went direct to the St. Katherine's Dock branch Post-office, which adjoins the shipping office—the prisoner was there on duty—I applied to him for two money orders, one for 5l., and one for 2l., and filled up the requisi-tion forms—I handed him one of the five 10l. notes, and he made out the two money orders—I then asked him for two registered letter envelopes; he gave them to me, and I asked him to direct them for me; one to Mr. Richard Jones, 3, Burdett Terrace, Eddlestone New Road, Crewe; and the other to Mr. Bradley, l, Wellington Quay, near Newcastle on Tyne—at that time I had the other four notes in my hand, and after he had directed the envelopes I put one back in my purse, and having counted out the three, I picked up the 5l. post-office order, and was wrapping it up. between the three notes, when the prisoner asked me if he should wrap them up in a piece of paper so that they would not be seen through the envelope—he was on one side of the counter, and I on the other—this is the piece of paper; it is a telegraph form—he wrapped them up, and then picked up the envelope addressed to Mr. Richard Jones, at Crewe, and put them in it, wetted the gum, and fastened it—he also enclosed the other order in the envelope addressed to Mr. Bradley—I did not request him to do so—he gave me a receipt for each letter—I gave him a shilling to pay for the envelopes and stamps, and told him to keep the change for his kindness in directing the envelopes—I then left the post-office—I had one note left in my purse, and I afterwards gave it to Mr. Legg in exchange for two 5l. notes.

Cross-examined. I handed the prisoner the three notes and the money order, and saw him wrap them up in a piece of paper similar to the paper andproduced, then gum the envelope down—I was looking at him while did it.

CHARLES GEORGE HOWELL . I am superintendent of the St. Katherine's Dock Shipping Offico—on 4th January I paid Edward Jones 53l. 7s. 2d. in five 10l. notes, and the rest in coin—I kept the numbers of the notes; they were 95 J 06291, 06292, 06293, 06294, 06295; these are some of the notes (produced)—I don't think there was any endorsement on them—when I handed them to Mr. Jones they were quite new notes.

RICHARD JONES . I am the father of the first witness, and live at 3, Burdett Terrace, Eddlestone New Road, Crewe—on the morning of 5th January I received a registered letter, inside which were a post-office order for 5l. and two 10l. notes—afterwards, from a communication I had from my son, I took a note of the numbers of the two notes; they were 06291 and 06293—this is the envelope in which they arrived, and the paper in which they were wrapped.

Cross-examined. I opened the envelope myself—I cut it with a knife. ALFRED LEGG. In the beginning of January I was second engineer in the ship Chiswick—on 5th January Mr. Jones asked me to change a 10l. note for him, and I gave him two 5l. notes for it—I proceeded with it to the office in the St. Leonard's Road, and deposited it with another note to my account—I took no account of the number of the note—those two notes were the only two I had any dealings with on that day. HENRIETTA COLBY. I am the wife of the post-office receiver in the St.

Leonard's Road, Poplar—on 5th January this note 06292 was paid into our office, as it bears the stamp of our office of that day—I remember the last witness depositing 20l. on that day—I can't say whether that was one of the notes he paid in.

Cross-examined. At our office it is no unusual thing for us to give change for notes paid in; we have a sum of money given us daily for that purpose.

HENRY JAMES GREEN . I am a clerk in the Receiver and Accountant-General's department of the General Post-office—in the ordinary course of business on the morning of the 5th January I received this official remittance letter from the St. Katherine's Dock Post-office for the 4th January; it bears the stamp of that office, and is signed "S. J. Swain-land"—inside it there were two 10l. Bank of England notes, twelve 5l. notes, some gold, and postage-stamps—I initialled the notes; these are they, 06294 and 06295—each of them bore the mark of the St. Katherine's Dock Post-office of 4th January—in the ordinary course they would go to the Bank of England the same day—besides the initial I put on myself there is the endorsement, "G. Smithson" on the 06294, and on the other one the initials M. 0. and a number 9855; that would stand for" money order," aud its number.

ROBERT BRADFORD . I am a travelling clerk in the "Missing Letter' branch of the General Post-office—in January last the prisoner was employed at the St. Katherine's Dock Post-office—it was part of his duty to issue money orders, receive registered letters, sell registered letter envelopes, and stamps, and receive bank deposits—at the close of every day it was his duty to forward his account to the post-office, and to remit to the Receiver and Accountant-Generai the money received, retaining some for contingences—it was also part of his duty to dispatch to the Eastern District Post offi ce letters and registered letters posted at his office—the registered letters were entered on 4th January in the 3.45 despatch, and they must have left his office at that time—a registered letter leaving his office at that time would be delivered at Crewe next morning—his hours of duty were from 9.30 to 5.30—in consequence of instructions which I received I sent for the prisoner to come to my office—I asked him if he was on duty the whole of January and on 4th January—he said "Yes"—I said" If you receive any Bank of England notes what do you do to identify from whom you receive them?"—he said "I should specify in respect of of what I received them, whether money orders, postal orders, or savings bank; I sometimes change notes for the public, and then I should ask them to endorse the note with their name and address, or I should do it myself if they told me they could not write"—he said he sometimes changed notes irrespective of post-office transactions—I showed him these notes, 06294 and 06295, and said" These two notes were forwarded by you to the Receiver and Accountant-Generai on 4th January last"—he said "Yes," pointing to the one with" G. Smithson" on the back—I asked him where he got it from—he said it was his writing, and it bore the office stamp of the St. Katherine's Dock office, and he must have remitted it that day, but he did not know where he got it from—I pointed out this erasure to him, "S. B. 455," and asked him if he wrote that also—the S. B. aud figures are scratched out with a pen, and the signature written over it—he said no, that was not his writing, that would be the usual endorsement of a note coming from a savings bank deposit—he said" I •

suppose I must have given change to somebody who told me they could not write, or else I should have endorsed it from whom it was"—he said he had no recollection of taking it from, any one, or of the transaction at all—I showed him the entry of the two registered letters in his book on that day—he said the entries were his, and that he dispatched the letters as usual at 3.45 p.m.—I showed him the money account, and the bank note No. 06295—he said he had received that in respect of a money order, No. 9855—those are the figures and letters on the back of the note, and he said that was his endorsement on the back—I asked him about folding up the notes and putting them in the envelope, and he said he had never done such a thing, and that if he was asked to do such a thing he should refuse—he said he made up his remittance-sheet himself, and that nobody ever helped him to do so—I said "How do you account for a Bank of England note said to have been enclosed in a registered letter entrusted to you at about 2.30, and dispatched by you at 3.45 being remitted by you to the Receiver and Accountant-General in a remittance made up between 4 and 5.30 the same day, the note bearing an endorsement of which you can give no account?" he said "I don't know anything about it, I can't say"—he had control of registered-letter envelopes; he sells them—he would have sole charge of the registered letters till they were remitted from the office.

Cross-examined. There is one other person in charge of the office, which is a fairly busy one, a good deal used by sailors—he has been in the employ of the office about nine years—this note was stolen on 4th Jan., and the conversation with me was on the 2nd February—I asked him how he could account for this note finding its way into his account, and he said ho could not account for it—before that he had said he must have changed it for some one.

By the JURY. There is a rule in the office that no notes must be changed unless the person is known.

Re-examined. The other person employed is a telegraphist, who has nothing to do with the letters.

CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Bank of England—the two 10l. Bank of England notes, numbers 06294 and 06295, were brought to the Bank of England from the Postmaster-General, on 5th January, and the one-06292 was brought on 6th January from the Postmaster-General—the two others, 06291 and 06293, have not yet reached the Bank—there are no two notes in circulation with the same number and date.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "The note must have come into my possession through giving change. "


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-295
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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295. WILLIAM JOHN EDWIN PAMPLIN (17) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, a post letter containing the property of her Majesty's Postmaster-General. He received an excellent character.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-296
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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296. GEORGE ALLEQUIN (16) to a like offence. He received a good character.— Twelve Months' Mard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-297
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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297. WILLIAM EDWARD BROWN to two indictments for stealing letters containing money and stamps (test letters) whilst employed in the Post-office.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-298
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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298. WILLIAM BARNWELL () to stealing a letter containing money money, whilst employed in the Post-office.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-299
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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299. HENRY WOOSTER to the non-discovery of the sum of 500l. due to his estate as a bankrupt. He received a good character.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-300
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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300. ALEXANDER LOUIS PIVERNAU (36) , Unlawfully incurring a debt and liability to the amount of 21l. 10s., and 28l. 10s., to Robert Mackesack and another, by fraud and false pretences.

MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.

ROBERT MACKESACK . I am in partnership with my brother Alexander as art cabinet-makers, in Phoenix Place, (gray's Inn Road—previous to July last the prisoner had had transactions with us—the last bill for 25l. was not met at the time it was due; a balance was left of 6l. or 7l., for which he gave an IO U—that was about July last—I did not after that let him have any goods, on credit—he did not apply for credit till about 20th November—about October I saw him at his own place, when he wanted some marqueterie cabinets on credit—I told him as he had not met his last bill, and we had not got paid the 6l., we could not let him have credit, we would let him have anything if he paid cash—on 20th November he called and said he wanted a black cabinet which was standing in our show-room, which a gentleman had commissioned him to buy—we told him that it was already sold to Messrs. Maple, but if he could pay the money we would let him have it—he said he was very sorry, his stock was very heavy, he could not pay then, but would after Christmas—I referred him to my brother, who was with me at the time—he said the gentleman had a house in the Regent's Park, which he had to furnish, that he had sold him a lot of china, and unless he got the cabinet to show it off on, he would lose the order—my brother asked if he could pay half the money down—he said "Well, I will go home and see if I can raise the half of it, and I will let you know to-night, but don't part with it"—we did not hear from him at 6 o'clock, and the cabinet was sent to Maple's, who had bought it—he came the day after, and said" The gentleman has commissioned me to buy" so and so, mention-ing articles that were about;" I must have them, but I can't raise any money just now, but if you will come I will let you see my books and my stock"—we asked him who he was dealing with—he said he had entirely given up dealing with the trade, that he had a number of good customers, private persons round about the squares, who owed him money, and he could not send the bills in till after Christmas—I went there that evening and looked round his place; it was full of good stock, he kept his books very nicely, and we decided to let him have the stuff on the condition of its going to this private house—we told him we could only part with them for cash—he said the gentleman had arranged to pay him a fortnight after Christmas, when he had finished the furnishing, and he said "You had better, to make sure, draw a bill on me"—consequently we did so, adding the amount of the IO U, making 27l. 10s.—we said we did not take short bills, and he asked me to date it back, which I did; I made it a two months' bill, from 12th November, so that it would be payable on 15th January—we then sent the things to him by our van—I believed that he had got this customer in the Regent's Park, or we should not have parted with our goods—a few days afterwards he came again and said that the gentleman was very much pleased with the things sent, and he wanted a couple of bric-a-brac satin wood tables for holding china—

after a deal of conversation, and his again assuring us that he had plenty of money coming to him at Christmas, we had the tables finished and sent home—he said the gentleman's house was nearly finished, and he only wanted two brackets, and if he did not keep them he would send them back—this was about 8th December; they were sent in on 14th December—he said he had sold the gentleman a pair of glass and brass cabinets that we had sold to him two years previously, and in taking them to the house they broke the centre glass, and he asked me to supply that, which we did—we should not have parted with any of the goods unless we had believed they were going to a private house—on the 25th January I heard of the prisoner's liquidation—I then went to his house; he was said to be out, but after a time he came downstairs—I said "What is the meaning of this?" producing the notice of liquidation—he said "I am very sorry; I look on you as my friends, I will pay you, I have got the money and the stuff"—I said" This is a queer sort of business, who have you sold, the stuff to?"—he said "In the trade"—I said "Where?"—he said" I am not going to tell you"—I said" You will have to tell"—he said he would not, he was not bound to criminate himself—his receiver then came in, and I left—I attended the first meet-ing of creditors; he disclosed no debts whatever, and said no one owed him anything except one customer, 14l. 10s., and his liabilities were 4,000l.—his stock in trade was 400l., and furniture, &c, was 50l.—our solicitor, Mr. Abrahams, was there, and asked him about our property—we were there for the purpose of tracing who had our stock—he handed in this paper in reply to our solicitor's questions, it is in his own hand-writing. (This stated that the goods were sold to J. J. Lewis, of Oxford Street, Elias Simmonds, of Percy Street, and Partridge, of King Street, Covent Garden.) The day before yesterday a pair of pedestals and a glass were left in front of our door—those were articles which the prisoner had obtained from us and sold to Lewis for 22l.—all the other things were sold in the trade—he refused to give his customers' addresses; he said he did not know—we made inquiry about the goods and took pro-ceedings.

Cross-examined. The meeting of creditors was on 12th January; that was three days before the bill became due—Mr. Robinson was the chair-man; he was not a creditor, he was the receiver—I know nothing about this paper (produced)—a question was raised as to the amount of bad debts on his books—he said that a certain Italian he had entrusted with about 600l. worth of goods, and he had never heard of him since—no statement to my knowledge was handed in showing that his bad debts were about 2,000l.; I swear that—Mr. Abrahams asked him the names of the parties, and he said he did not know; he could not recollect—to my knowledge no list of creditors was handed to the chair-man and signed by him—I took this paper. off the table and put it in my pocket—we took proceedings as soon as we got this paper; I took out a summons the same afternoon—he deals mostly in French china—I have a general knowledge of the bric-a-brac trade—it is not a very uncertain trade; they are things that have a regular market value—he paid three sums of 10l/. each in settlement of the bill, leaving 6l., for which he gave the I O U, that cleared up the whole matter on 27th September—it was not in consequence of seeing his books and his stock that I gave him credit; it was on the single condition that the stuff was to go to the

gentleman's house—his stock was all cleared off soon after—we thought he was an honest sort of fellow, and let him have the stuff.

Re-examined. The amount of all our transactions with him was about 55l.

ALEXANDER MAGASSICK . I am the brother of the last witness—I decidedly refused the prisoner credit—we had no transaction after the unpaid IO U—the reason we gave him credit for the 21l. 10s. was his distinct statement that he had a private customer to supply with the goods, that he had sold a lot of china, and it would be a great favour if we would let him have the goods—the second parcel was supplied on his distinct statement that the gentleman was well pleased with the goods he had had, and that to complete the room it was necessary to have the further consignment—I was present on both occasions—on 14th Sep-tember credit was given him for 7l. 18s., because he stated that the gentleman wished to have them to fill two spaces on the wall, and if they were not satisfactory they should be returned—they were not returned—he told me that he had considerable sums of money coming to him, from private persons, that he had quite done with the trade, as he has lost money by them, that he had a shop in a public road, and he was dealing with private persons, and was working himself into a connection round the squares, and that this gentleman lived in the Regent's Park—I received the notice of liquidation about 25th December, and I called and saw the prisoner, on a different occasion to that spoken of by my brother—I did not know my brother had called—I said that it was a most extraordinary thing for him to do; he was about the last man I should have thought would do such a thing; if he had taken the money out of my pocket I should consider it the' same, and we should certainly pro-secute him—he said in that case he was not bound to tell me anything about the goods; he would only do it at the proper time, that he was not bound to criminate himself—I did not go to the meeting.

Cross-examined. This invoice dated 21st March, 1881, is one of ours; it is my brother's writing; he can explain it—I was present when the prisoner first came and mentioned about the gentleman in the Regent's Park—we told him we could not do any more business with him except for cash—none of the goods were to be put in his shop; if he had 20,000l. worth of stock we should have refused to let him have goods if they were to go into his shop; we parted with them to go to a private customer—I put the question to him if he was dealing with the trade, and if so I could not let him have the goods, because he was dealing with unprin-cipled men, and I was afraid my goods would reach them, as they ultimately did; I told him so, and he told me that he had done no business with them for six months.

ROBERT MAGASSICK (Re-examined). This paper is a statement of August, 1879; it was sent in on 21st March—the 6l. balance was arrived at on 19th May, 1881—I was in America at the time, and these accounts were left open, and on my return I went to square it up with him—this was the balance of account in 1879—no goods were supplied by us after 23rd November, 1879—on 28th August, 1881, I exchanged three little pieces of glass with him for a piece of china; that Was a private business of my own.

ABRAHAM ABRAHAMS . I am solicitor to Messrs. Magassick—I attended the first meeting of creditors—I can't say that this statement of affairs

was produced; it was one similar; it is identical in figures—the book debts, whether good, bad, or indifferent, are all stated at 14l. 15s., con-sisting of only two names, one for 10l. 15s., and the other 4l.—no other debts were stated while I was present, and I was there from the com-mencement to the close—the prisoner handed me in a list of what had become of the goods obtained from my client, and I immediately went to the police-court and applied for a summons.

Cross-examined. I waited till the meeting and saw the amount of the assets; I found that they were small—that was not the reason why I went to the police-court—I saw my client two or three days before the meeting, and then learnt about the false pretences, and not till then; I did not know of it on the 25th.

HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I keep the Records of the Courfof Bank-ruptcy—I produce the defendant's petition—it was filed on 22nd Decem-ber, 1881, at 20 minutes past 11—it declares 4,000l. owing—there is an affidavit of his to restrain a person from recovering judgment for 240l. on that day—the proceedings have never gone on—no statement has been filed.

JOHN ISAACS . I am a dealer in furniture, 131, Oxford Street, under the name of Lewis—I did not get a black chippendale glass and pair of brackets, and pay 2l. to the prisoner; it is utterly untrue—I had no settlement of account with him, nor any payment of 2l.

EDWARD BENJAMIN PARTRIDGE . I live at 20, King Street, Covent Garden—I purchased a pair of cabinets of the prisoner on 14th January for 30l.—I paid him 15l. cash, and 15. was to come off an account—I also bought of him a pair of glass and bric-a-brac tables for 30l.—I paid 15l. cash, and the rest in goods, and I took some pledge tickets from him—I took out the goods and realised a loss.

Cross-examined. The china and bric-a-brac trade is very uncertain—I have known the prisoner in business twelve months—he has introduced several clients to me to buy old articles—I do not deal in modern old art—he told me in December that he was in treaty for the purchase of a houseful of china from a lady, which I have found to be true—I bought part, and am in treaty for the remainder—it is old and valuable.

ELIAS SIMMONDS . I am a dealer in works of art, at 6, Percy Street, Tottenham Court Road—on 10th December I bought a pair of black brackets from the prisoner with other goods for 46l.—I have been in the habit of dealing with him for the last five years—I generally lay out about 600l. or 700l. a year with him—I gave him 8l. 10s. for the brackets—the affair was settled by a bill of three months, which is not due yet.

Cross-examined. I always found him a straightforward man in busi-ness.

CHARLES JONES . I am in the employment of Mr. David Jewell, of 4 and 6, New Oxford Street—last Monday or Tuesday I took back a pair of pedestals and a bracket which I had bought of the prisoner at his shop at 81, Mortimer Street, for 22l.—I paid him 2l., the balance of 20l. which he owed me—this'was on my own account; it had nothing to do with Mr. Jewell.

Cross-examined. I sometimes do a little business on my own account after closing time—it was arranged that the transaction should be entered in the name of Lewis—that was at my suggestion—I should have had a

fortnight's notice from Mr. Jewell if I had not sent these things back, and I thought I would sooner lose the 22l. than lose my situation. The Prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY .— Four Months' without Hard Labour.

NEW COURT—Tuesday, February 28th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-301
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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301. CHARLES BROAD (21) and JAMES WOOD (18) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. LLOYD and WILLES Prosecuted; MR. BUTLER defended Wood. C HARLES DOWSETT. In September I was in the employ of Mr. Han-bury, of Parliament Street—on 23rd September Broad came in with two others, and asked for three twopenny cigars—he gave me a half-crown—I gave him the change, and put it on a little board at the back of the counter—while he was in the shop I saw that it was bad, followed him, and gave him in custody with the coin—he said that he did not know it was bad.

Cross-examined by Broad. When you came in you began tossing for cigars—I will not swear whether I put the coin on the board or put it in the till—you went towards Westminster Bridge, and your two friends towards the Abbey—I gave you in custody seven or eight minutes after you came in.

ROBERT Eccles (Police Sergeant A 56). Broad was given into. my custody—he said "I don't deny passing a half-crown, but I was not aware it was a bad one"—I found on him a good half-crown, a florin, a shilling, and 41l. 2d.—he was taken to Bow Street, remanded till 26th September, and discharged—this is the coin.

WILLIAM JOHN GODSELL . I am assistant to Mr. Harman, a hatter, of 42, Strand—on 8th December I sold Wood a hat guard for 6d.—he laid a half-crown on the counter—our cashier gave him the change, and after he had left, brought me the half-crown; it was bad—I afterwards put it in the fire, and it melted in a few seconds—on 18th January both the prisoners came in, and Broad bought a hat for 6s. 6d., and gave me two florins and two half-crowns, one of which was bad—I said "Are you aware this is a bad one?"—he said "No"—I said "I believe you do, as I recognise your companion as previously passing one"—Wood said" You are mistaken"—I have no doubt of Wood's identity.

Cross-examined by MR. BUTLER. It is a small shop—we have a dozen customers a day on an average—Wood did not try on any hats or tender any money—I did not tell him at first that I recognised him, but I told our manager to be careful--he is not here—I stood at the door and sent a boy for a constable.

Re-examined. I recognised Wood directly he came in on the 18th, and made a communication in consequence.

HENRY GETTINGS (Policeman E 461). On 18th January, just before 6 o'clock, I was called to Mr. Harman's shop, and the prisoners wore there—they were told the charge, and the prosecutor said he recognised Wood as a man who came six weeks previously and tendered a bad half-crown for a hat-guard just as they were closing—Wood said "You must be mistaken"—I found on Broad a good half-crown, two good

florins, and a halfpenny, and on Wood a half-sovereign, a sixpence, and a threepenny piece—they both said they were innocent.

Cross-examined by Mr. BUTLER. I have never seen Wood with Broad before—his character is good as far as I know.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these coins are both bad—good coins will not melt readily; it requires a white heat to melt silver.

Broad's Defence. I met some men who I knew, and we went into a cigar-shop and tossed for some cigars; I lost the toss, and paid for three cigars with a half-crown. The witness put it in the till and took a florin out and gave me in change. When I got out he gave me in custody. He says he is not sure whether he put the half-crown in the till or not, therefore what proof is there that the one I gave him was bad? Any one is liable to take two bad half-crowns in five months, and it was not worth my while to buy a hat for the sake of passing a bad half-crown. I have no fear for the result, because I know I am innocent.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-302
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

302. CHARLES JOHNSON (19) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.


JESSIE TUBBS . My father is a violin-maker, of 99, Wardour Street—on 15th February I sold the prisoner a violin string, price 6d.—he put down this half-crown [produced)—I found it was bad, and spoke to my mother—he saw that and went out—I ran out and pointed him out to my brother, who fetched a constable—the prisoner ran off.

ALFRED TUBBS . I assist my father—my mother told me something, and I went outside with my sister, who pointed the prisoner out standing still about seventy yards off—he saw me coming, and ran through St. Ann's Court—I caught him, took him back, and gave him in charge.

HENRY BARTHOLOMEW (Policeman C 31). I received charge of the prisoner at Mr. Tubbs's shop and this half-crown—I searched him there, and found two pieces of a bad half-crown in his coat pocket, and when I searched him at the station a threepenny "piece in his waistcoat pocket.

Cross-examined. The piece was doubled when I took it from you, and it broke in two afterwards—this is it.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . Both these half-crowns are bad.

GUILTY Six Months' Hard Labour.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, February 28th, 1882.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-303
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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303. WILLIAM HENRY AVIS (18) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 18l. 18s. 4d. —Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-304
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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304. WILLIAM HENRY LEONARD* (46) to three indictments for stealing 141l. 2 lb. of tobacco, 150 cigars, and other goods, having been convicted of felony at this Court in July, 1875.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-305
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

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305. KATE MOREY (23) to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 7l.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment Respited.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-306
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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306. THOMAS DELLER (16) and JAMES FRANCIS THOMPSON (19) to burglary in the dwelling-house of George James Biddis, and stealing 30 postage labels and 4l. 19s. 6d .— Twelve Months Hard Labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-307
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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307. JAMES BOLTON (36) and JAMES WEST (24) to stealing 71b. of tea and a wooden chest, the goods of the Great Northern Railway Company, the master of Bolton.— Five Years Penal Servitude each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-308
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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308. GEORGE JOHN RAY (32) and GEORGE ALLEN (41) , Stealing 61 yards of cloth, the goods of James Hyslop and another, the masters of Ray.—To which RAY PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

WILLIAM SAUNDERS (City Detective). On Tuesday afternoon, January 31st, I was watching at Cannon Street Railway Station in consequence of information I received—I was near the cloak-room about 4.30—the prisoner Allen passed me, and went into the station and came out again—he stopped half a minute and looked about—he went in and out again, looking about; he did so a third time—then he went to the cloak-room, and came out with this parcel on his shoulder—I stopped him; I said, "Allen, you know who I am, where did you get that from?"—he said, "A gentleman in Milk Street asked me to bring it here"—he made a rush to pass between me and the wall—I and another constable held him, and we took him to the station—he there said that a man had made an appointment to meet him in Cannon Street—we went back and waited till 20 minutes past 6; no man came, and we took him to the station again—this ticket marked" L. C. B. "was in the parcel, and that I found came from Mr. Hyslop's at 25, Milk Street—the ticket was tied to the stuff at the corner inside the parcel—I have seen the prisoners together.

JAMES HYSLOP . I am a member of the firm of Hyslop and Craig, of 25, Milk Street, commission agents—this parcel of cloth is my property—I had no time to miss it—I received information about the property on the Wednesday morning, 1st February—there are 611/2 yards—the value would be 36s.—if the cloth had been sold the ticket would have been changed or altered; I can say it was not sold—Ray was in my service—he was left in charge of the premises on Tuesday morning—I have seen Allen standing at the top of Milk Street—Ray has been a good servant.

WILLIAM JAMES BRITTON . I am a labourer, and live at 2, Dock Side, Lea Bridge—I met Ray on Tuesday morning in Milk Street—he asked me to go and fetch a parcel, and take it to the Cannon Street Railway Station cloak-room—it was similar to this parcel produced—I gave it into the charge of the cloak-room porter, who gave me a ticket for it—I brought the ticket away and gave it to Ray.

JOHN COOPER . I am cloak-room porter at the Cannon Street Railway Station—on 31st January Allen called for a parcel—he mentioned the number; 569, and gave me the ticket, and I gave him the parcel it related to—this is the ticket; the number is on the back—I do not remember taking it in from the witness.

Allen's Defence. I am a jobbing porter, and was standing about for a job when a man asked me to go to the cloak-room and get a parcel. It was 4 o'clock, and he asked me not to get it till 5.30, and I went. Ray never gave me the ticket. I was surprised to find he worked there.


RAY— Twelve Months Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-309
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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309. WILLIAM BONNER (40), WILLIAM WADE (19), and WILLIAM SMITH (26) , Robbery with violence on Alexander Henderson Weir, and stealing a pair of compasses and 30s. his goods.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. THORNE COLE defended Wade. Upon hearing the first witness Weir, the Jury stated that they believed the parties were all drunk together, and they did not wish to hear any more evidence.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-310
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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310. GEORGE KENNEDY (43) , Unlawfully attempting to obtain a railway ticket by false pretences.

MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.

JOHN EDWARD TREADGOLD . I am a booking clerk at King's Cross Station of the Great Northern Railway—about 4.45 p.m. on February 22nd the prisoner came to the booking-office and [asked for a third-class ticket to Manchester—the fare is 15s. 5d.—I stamped it, and brought it to the window-sill—the prisoner tendered a coin which I took to be a sovereign—in taking it up I dropped it; I looked at it—I told the prisoner it was a Hanoverian coin—he said it was a good one, and if it was a bad one I had changed it myself—I called a policeman and told him the man had given me a bad coin—the policeman asked him if he had any more—he said, "Yes, I have more like them"—he pulled out another; the policeman taking it said," This is a bad one, "and took him away—at the police-office the prisoner said he had one of the coins before Christmas last, and one he must have had given him in his wages the previous Saturday by his employer, Mr. Conder—I gave the coin the prisoner tendered to the policeman who took him—this is the Hanoverian medal tendered.

JAMES HANDS . I am a policeman in the service of the Great Northern Railway at King's Cross—about 5 p.m. on 22nd February I was called to the booking-office window—the booking clerk said in the prisoner's presence," This man has tendered this coin for a ticket for Manchester, and it is not good"—I asked the prisoner why he put that down for a ticket for Manchester—he said, "I put down a good sovereign, and if that is bad the booking clerk has changed it"—I said," Have you any more about you?"—he said, "I have got a good sovereign in my purse"—I said," Show it to me"—he took his purse out of his pocket, and out of his purse he took another coin—I looked at it; it was a Hano-verian medal—I said, "That is just the same as the other one, no good"—he said," They are both good; one I have had since Christmas; the other one I was paid on Saturday for my wages by Mr. Conder, of the Kennington Road"—the clerk handed me the first coin.

WILLIAM LOWE (Policeman Y 507). I took the prisoner in custody to Somers Town Police-station—I received the coins produced—the prisoner was charged with attempting to pass a Hanoverian medal—he said he had it from his lodgings—I searched him; I found 9s. 5 1/2 d. good money, and a bottle containing rum.

JAMES READ . I am clerk of Mr. Conder, of the Baltic Wharf, Kings-land Road—I pay the workmen; I paid the prisoner on 18th February 1l. 10s. in gold and 9s. 4d. in silver and copper—the money was good; it came direct from the bank, and was handed over to him—he was recom-mended to go home to Manchester because he was ill.

The prisoner in his defence said that his money must have been taken from his pocket at his lodgings and the medals put there. He never had bad money nor a flaw against his character, and was never locked up.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-311
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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311. ALFRED HENDERSON (19) , Stealing a jar and two gallons of spirit of Howard Smith.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

JAMES HUNT . I am in the service of Freeman and Sons, tailors, of Fenchurch Street—in November last I had under my care a jar of whisky at Messrs. Freeman's place of business—the prisoner came and said "P. D."—I understood that to mean that he was calling for the Parcels Delivery Company—I gave the prisoner the jar of whisky, and he signed for it and took 8d. carriage.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You had an apron on and a pen behind your ear, and looked about six feet high—I can swear you are the one who came for the whisky.

WILLIAM RICHARDSON . I am a collector for the London Parcels De-livery Company—the prisoner was not in the company's service on 30th November—he had no authority to receive parcels for us—some two years ago he was employed by the company, and sometimes he was employed when some one was away.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, March 1st and 2nd, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins,

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-312
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

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312. WILLIAM HUBBARD (18), DAVID JENNINGS (19), HENRY KIRBY (17), FREDERICK BALL (19), PATRICK KENNEDY (20), DAVID WILLIAMS (18), and JOHN COLLINS (19), were indicted for a riot and wounding William Lockwood and others, and occasioning them actual bodily harm.


LEVEY defended Kirby.

CHARLES EATON . I live at 9, Ottaway Street, Lower Clapton—I am not aware that that is called Tiger Bay—I have lived in the neighbour-hood just on 10 years—on Christmas Eve I had a fight with a lot round me—I could not say who they were'; I did not know them—this took place outside my door—my young woman, Martha Pettitt, was with me on that occasion, and these chaps came down the street singing—I did not know them—I said "Old man, turn it up"—I meant by that not to make a row—they made a noise with their mouths, and came over for me and caught me by the collar—I went into them the same as they did to me, and took my own defence—I did not see any of the prisoners there—there was nothing occurred with me about a week afterwards: I was in the Rendleshaw Arms public-house in Ottaway Street, and came out about 10.50 and went home—I had gone in between seven and eight o'clock.

WALTER HANCOCK . I am waiter at the Bell and Mackerel, 333, Mile End Road—it is a large house, with a number of large rooms containing cases of stuffed birds—on New Year's night I saw from 15 to 20 men there—they came in about 8 o'clock and left at 9 o'clock together—I recognise Kennedy as having been amongst them; he left with the rest.

EMMANUEL POTTER {Police Constable N 520). About 10.30 on New Year's night I saw a gang of about 30 men in Graham Road, Dalston—when I first saw them they were going towards Dalston Junction, and

then they turned and went in the direction of Shacklewell Lane, and I lost sight of them at the corner of the Rendlesham Road—they were then going from the City towards Hackney Downs—I am not able to identify any of them.

THOMAS COUSINS . I am a beer retailer at Diss Street, Hackney Road—on Sunday night, 1st January, I was in my house—Hubbard came in with two or three others about 7 o'clock; they stayed till about a quarter or half-past nine o'clock, and then left.

WALTER CUTMORE . I live at 27, Winslade Road, Upper Clapton—I am a milkman—about 10.40 on the night of 1st January I was at the corner of Stillman Street, which leads out of the Rendlesham Road—while there I saw about 18 men pass me together—I identify Williams as one of them—as they passed Williams said "There is the b"—"—I was then surrounded—somebody said" That is not him, "and they passed on—I identify Kirby and Ball as two of them, as well as Williams—I then went into the Rendlesham Arms, where I found my brother-in-law, Burdon, and Jordan—we had some drink together—while there I heard a disturbance in the taproom, and they asked a person to come out into the street—Jones, the landlord, called out" Time "for the purpose of clearing out and shutting the house, and the doors were closed—Jordan had some beer in a can—Jordan and I went out the front way—when we got but there was a mob of people—they caught hold of the can from Jordan and began drinking—I got hold of the can and went away with it—the gang ran after me—I recognise Ball, Kirby, and Williams as among them—I ran up Middleton Street—I mistook the turning in my hurry—one of the prisoners said "It is too good to go up there, "and they returned again—I stopped—when I thought they had dispersed I went back to where my brother-in-law was—I found that he had been stabbed—he was bleeding very much from the throat—a policeman went for a doctor—all the men were strangers to me—I had never seen them before.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. It was between five and ten minutes to 11 o'clock when I was at the corner of Stillman Street—I could not say how many men passed me at that time; there was a rare mob—they pretty nearly filled the street—I was coming down the footpath, and they came over to the corner to me—there is another one I know, but I have not seen him yet—I noticed Kirby at the corner of Stillman Street when he came up to me—I don't know whether the men who were in the Rendlesham Arms were the same men who made the disturbance—when I got outside there was a mob of 30 or 40 men—I could not say whether they were the same—there are lights outside the Rendlesham Arms; I did not notice whether they were out; the lamps inside were alight—the shutters were not up—as soon as I took the can they said" After him," and I ran away as hard as I could—I did not stop to look behind me.

FREDERICK BURDON . I am a milkman, and live at 21, Lanfield Street—I am brother-in-law to Cutmore—on the night of 1st January I went with my landlord, Jordan, to the Rendlesham Arms to fetch some beer—Cutmore came after we were there—a number of strange men came in and went into the taprocm and wanted somebody to come out—in con-sequence of what took place the lights in the taproom were ordered to be put out by the landlord—the men then went outside—when I got out

I found Jordan carrying a can of beer—Cutmore was with me—a body of men were congregated outside—one of them took hold of Jordan's can of beer and drank out of it—Cutmore took it away from Jordan and ran away with it—some of the men ran a little way after him—one re-mained behind, and he struck my landlord and struck me in the neck close against the throat with something—I put up my hand, and found it was covered with blood—I was cut very badly—Cutmore and Jordan took me home—I was laid up for three weeks—I am unable to identify any of the men.

ALFRED HARTLEY . I am a horsekeeper, of 21, Lanfield Street—I am known by the name of Jordan—I was with Cutmore and Burdon on 1st January—I was at the Bendlesham Arms when a number of men came in—I heard them ask for somebody to come out—he said "I will be out directly"—I do not identify any of the prisoners—I was with Burdon when he was struck in the throat—I am unable to say who did it.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. The lights in the taproom were turned out—there were none outside when we went in—the lights inside were turned out as soon as the door was closed.

GEORGE JONES . I keep the Bendlesham Arms in Stillman Street, Hackney—on the night of 1st January I saw the three witnesses, in front of the bar and some men in the taproom—I heard loud talking in the taproom, and one said they were going to sneak' the birds—I went to the door and said "What does all this mean?"—one of them said "It is all right, governor"—in consequence of what took place I told my young man to close the house, and called "Time"—it was five minutes to 11 by my clock, 10 minutes by the right time—I always keep my clock five minutes fast—some taps came to the window, and they said" If you don't turn them out we will break the window "-Cutmore and his friends remained behind—I had regular customers there, Potter, Hayes, and Haslar—they were in the taproom—I let Thomas and Hayes out the back way—that was in consequence of what Haslar said—Potter had some birds in a cage—he left them behind—he went out in front and Cutmore, Burdon, and Hartley also with a gallon of beer.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. My house is about three or four miles from Bethnal Green.

JAMES HARRITT . I am potman at the Rendlesham Arms—on the night of the 1st January I was in the tap-room, where Potter, Thomas, and Hayes were—Potter had some birds in a cage; he was tying them up to go home—some 15 or 16 men came in, and asked a man if Ginger was there—he said he did not know him—in consequence of what Mr. Jones said I turned out the gas, turned the men out, and shut the door—the men outside called out" Turn them out or else we will break the win-dows"—two men and a female were let out the back way.

ALBERT HASLAR . I am a carman, and live at 26, Ottaway Street—on Sunday night, 1st January, about 10 to 11, I was in the Rendlesham Arms drinking—ten or fifteen men came in—I recognise Ball, Jennings, Williams, and Collins—Potter was there with some birds—Ball said" Nick his birds"—he said that to one of his companions—I don't think he is caught—I saw him going to take the birds—he then asked Thomas" Do you know which is Ginger?"—he whistled, and Jennings and Williams asked me to come outside—I refused—Jennings and Williams

asked for some beer—Mr. Jones refused to serve them—I knew Jennings before, by going out with Mary Longman; he kept company with her—I know Eaton; he is known as Ginger—I went out the back way, and over the fence to my door, which is about 50 yards down the street, and the men followed me—there was about seven or eight in front, and about seven or eight behind, and Collins struck at me—I could not say what with, and said "You heiffer, if you have got what is meant for you, you are a corpse"—I knew that there had been a row on Christmas Eve between Eaton and some men—I did not know who they were—I had been attacked by a body of men outside the Variety Theatre about two years before—when I was at the police-station at Newington identifying the prisoners, Jennings said to me "You heiffer, when I get out I will settle you," and I spoke to the inspector about it.

GEORGE POTTER . I am a labourer, and live at 6, Ottaway Street—on the night of 1st January I was with Haslar, Thomas, and Hayes in the Rendlesham Arms taprooma—a man came to the door and whistled—four or five men then came in, and asked Thomas who Ginger was—Thomas said he did not know him—I said" Is he a short little chap?"—they said" Yes, a little chap, he lives up the street"—I said" I know he does, but he has not been here to-night"—I had some birds with me, and Ball said" Sneak his birds"—I said" No, you can't sneak them, they belong to me, "and I put them on the table—there might have been a gang of fifteen or sixteen in the taproom—they went to the bar, and said" Let us have some beer"—the landlord said" Now, gentlemen, please, time, "and out they went—I heard them when outside say" Turn the other two out or else in goes the b——window"—I went out at the front, the others went out at the back—when I got out there were the same lot there, and another lot, about 26 in all—I went to the third house in Ottaway Street, and stood talking to a man named Tomkins—I identify Jennings, Ball, and Williams as three of the men who were in the Rendlesham Arms—while talking to Tomkins I saw Shenstone come up the street stabbed in the face—I spoke to 84 N, and we went after the men across Hackney Downs, and lost sight of them—we came up to Bur-don, and found that he was stabbed, and also Lockwood.

GEORGE THOMAS . I live at 30, Ottaway Street—on the night of 1st January I was with Potter and Haslar at the Rendlesham Arms—a man came in and asked for Ginger Eaton; he whistled, and fifteen or sixteen men came in—I do not identify any of the prisoners.

ANN HAYES . I keep company with Thomas—I was in the Rendlesham Arms on the night of 1st January—I saw Ball in the taproom; he went to pick up the birds—I do not identify any of the others.

SUSAN CORDELL . I live at 18, Ottaway Street—I know Ball by sight, and I know Eaton—on Christmas Eve I saw some men singing in the street by Eaton's house; Jennings, Kirby, and Ball were among them; I did not know any of the others—Eaton came and told them to go away—they told him to mind his own business—there was a disturbance in the street between Ball, Jennings, and Eaton-Martha Pettitt was with Eaton—Eaton's father and mother came out with Mrs. Shaw, a lodger—the father ran after Ball with a poker—as they went away they said they would remember Ginger Eaton when they came again—I knew Kirby by sight; he keeps company with Eliza Munday; I have seen them together—I know Williams; he keeps company with Eliza Petty; I have seen

them together—Ball kept company with Thomas, and Jennings with Longman.

Cross-examined by Jennings. Eaton told you to hold your row—you asked him if the street belonged to him—I did not see him strike you; he struck Ball, and Ball hit him back.

Ball. I and Jennings were walking down the road, and Eaton asked us if the street belonged to us, and he punched me. I hit him back, and he hit Jennings, and about twelve people came out with pokers and sticks to hit Jennings.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I have only seen Kirby with Eiixa Munday twice.

FRANCIS WHEELER BROWN . I am a M. R. C. S., of 56, Rectory Road—on the night of 1st January, at a quarter-past 11, I was called to attend to Burdon at his house in Lanfield Street—he was lying in the passage with his neck smothered in blood, and a large pool of blood under his head—I washed the blood away and cut his whiskers off, and found there was an artery bleeding—there was a wound about an inch and a quarter to an inch and a half long on the right side underneath the jawbone; it divided the artery, from which blood was flowing freely—he was obliged to keep his bed three weeks—if the wound had been half an inch to the right it would have caused his death—it was an incised wound, and I think must have been caused by a knife—he was under my care till last Saturday—I next saw Shenstone; he was suffering from a stab in the cheek about an inch and a half deep, penetrating the cavity of the cheek-bone; it must have been caused by a double-edged instrument like a dagger.

JOHN BOWDEN . I am a labourer, and live at 6, Ottaway Street—on Sunday night, 1st January, about a quarter past 11, I was in an empty house in Ottaway Street playing cards with some others—I looked out of window and saw a crowd—I went down into the street towards the crowd—I saw Hubbard, Kirby, Kennedy, and Williams—I had known Williams before—they had something in their hands; I could not swear that they were knives; they looked like knives; I could not swear to it—all those I have sworn to had them—I have the nickname of Topo—Williams and Hubbard said to me "Topo, if you don't go away we will take yours—life"—on hearing that I went into the empty house and bolted the door—they kicked the door, cracking the panel—they were unable to get in and went away.

Cross-examined by Hubbard. I know you by sight—I have seen you at the Bell and Mackerel on Sunday night—I did not recognise you at first at the police-station because I was put by the side of you.

Cross-examined by Kennedy. It was about ten minutes or a quarter past 11 when I saw you—I was gambling in the empty house—I heard a noise in the street; I thought at first it was my mates—I did not tell the inspector that I did not see you with a knife—I have been at the Variety Theatre four times—I have seen you at the Bell and Mackerel many a Sunday night.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. The empty house was open, and we went in and played cardsthere—we had a light there; I bought it on Saturday night—I bought four to use at home, and when I wanted one on Sunday I went home and got it—when I heard the noise I looked out of window; there were a great many people in the street—it is a not a dark

street, nor very light—it has about two lamps in it—it may be about twice as long as this Court—I went about four yards from the house, and they turned and saw me; there were about fifteen or twenty—I don't say they all had knives in their hands—the four that I identify had something in their hands.

Re-examined. I had known Williams before that night—I had had no words with him—before this night there was a disturbance outside the Variety Theatre, and Williams was there at that time; he was not one of the people that set upon me.

Cross-examined by Collins. I could not swear to you—I knew you by the name of Taters.

ELIZA MUNDAY . I live at 159, Winstone Road, Stoke Newington—my people live at 29, Ottaway Street—I know Kirby; I used at one time to keep company with him—I know Eaton and Ball—on the night of 1st January, a few minutes Before 11, I saw Kirby standing in Ottaway Street under a lamp-post opposite our house—I was stand-ing outside our door; after standing there about three minutes I saw a crowd of twenty or thirty come up the street; I saw Jennings among them; they went towards where King was standing—I then saw Ball; he came across to me at the door and asked me where Ginger Eaton lived—I said he lived in the next street—I had heard about the row on Christmas Eve between Eaton and Ball—that was the reason why I told them that Eaton lived in the next street—Ball said "No, it is in this street"—I said" It is in this street, but what house I could not say, "and I went indoors.

Cross-examined by Jennings. You were not with Ball; you were coming up the street with the crowd.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I only walked out with Kirby on one Sunday night; that was five or six weeks before this.

ELIZA PETTY . I live at 31, Ottaway Street—I know Jennings and Williams—Williams kept company with me, and Jennings with Longman—on the night of 1st January, at 11 o'clock, as near as I can guess, I was outside my door with my sister, Rose Kavanagh, and some other girls—I saw Haslar run down from the direction of the Rendlesham Arms and run into his house, No. 26, Ottaway Street; a number of men pursued him and rushed into the house after him, saying" Some of thes—are over there"—after about two minutes they came out again, and they said "If the s—had got what I intended for him he wouldnot get up any more"—they then rushed across to where I was standing; some of them got hold of me; Jennings was one of them—they came inside our door; my mother opened the kitchen door and they went out—I saw a knife in one of their hands as they were going away; I could not swear which it was—I can't say how many men there were.

Cross-examined by Jennings. I knew you before; I saw you in the passage, and looked you full in the face.

MARIA PETTY . I am the sister of the last witness—on the night of 1st January, about 11, I was standing outside my door—I saw Haslar run up the street and some men after him—they came into our passage afterwards—Dave Jennings was among them—I knew him as keeping company with Mary Longman.

MARY ANN PICKETT . I live at 18, Ottaway Street—on the night of

1st January, a little before 11, I was with the two Pettys—I saw some men running after Haslar into his house—I saw Dave Jennings, Kirby, and Ball—Ball came across and said to Eliza Petty, "Where does Ginger Eaton live?"—she said, "In the next street"—he said," No he don't; it is in this street"—she said, "Yes; but in which house I can't tell you"—they then all rushed in to Mrs. Petty's, when I went indoors, and when I came out again they were gone—I had not known the prisoners before—I had only seen Jennings—I was examined before the Magistrate—I said there," I had known Williams, Kirby, Ball, and Jennings before, and Williams was going out with Eliza Petty." "

Cross-examined by Jennings. I picked you out—I did not know your name till I heard it from the others.

MARY THOMAS . I live at 30, Ottaway Street—I kept company with Ball—I left off going with him on the Saturday as this happened on the Sunday night—my brother is a friend of Ginger Eaton—I know Jennings and Kirby and Ball—they were companions.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I said before the Magistrate, "I only saw Kirby with Ball on one occasion."

Cross-examined by Jennings. I did not say that I never saw you after Christmas Eve; I said New Year's Eve.

MARY LONGMAN . I live at 31, Ottaway Street—I know Jennings—he kept company with me up to New Year's Eve—I was in his company on Christmas Eve—Ball was with us—there was a row in Ottaway Street on Christmas Eve—I know Eaton.

Cross-examined by Jennings. I said at Worship Street that I never went along with you after Christmas Eve; I made a mistake; I meant New Year's Eve.

JOHN MACK . I am a hair-dresser, and live at 175, Sandringham Road, Kingsland Road—on the night of 1st January, about 20 minutes to half-past 11,1 was in London Fields—I saw a gang of about 20 men coming towards Goldsmith's Row, in the direction of Dove Row—I was proceed-ing towards my home—the crowd were coming towards me; I had to step aside to let them pass—one of them said," This is one of the Hackney b—s,"and he struck me and cut my eye open—I could not see what it was done with; it felt like a loaded stick—I had done nothing to the men—I had never seen them before—I called out" Police! "three or four times, and I said to the man that struck me," Stop here; you are no man"—they said if I followed them another few yards they would kill me—I was taken to a doctor's—I am unable to identify anybody.

MARTHA PETTITT . I live at No. 1, Ottaway Street—I know Ginger Eaton, Ball, and Jennings—I remember a disturbance on Christmas Eve between Jennings, Eaton, and Ball in Ottaway Street—I was struck in the mouth by Jennings—the others ran away—I was in company with. Eaton.

Cross-examined by Jennings. I did not go to Worship Street to identify you, because I saw you at Newington Station—I know nothing about New Year's Eve, only Christmas Eve—I never saw you before then; I did not know your name till I was told—you came over and shoved against my door as if you were drunk—you were not singing the Salvation Army—you punched me in the mouth and called me Pol.

Cross-examined by Ball. I did not know your name, but I knew your face.

WILLIAM LOCKWOOD . I am a carpenter, of 39, Lanfield Street—I was at the corner of Rendlesham Road about 10 minutes past 11 on Sunday, 1st January—20 or 30 men came past me in a crowd, and one of them struck me under the eye with a knife, or something of that kind, and stabbed me—I had not done anything or spoken to them—I cannot positively swear to the man's features, but Ball resembles the man—it was dark—they made off across the Downs.

WILLIAM SHENSTONE . I live at 12, Ottaway Street, and am a carman—on Sunday, 1st January, about a quarter past 11, I was in the Rendle-sham Road—I saw 30 or 40 men coming along; I got off the kerb to get out of their way—the last one as he passed stabbed me in the left cheek—I had not done anything to them—Williams is the one that struck me—I went home to bed, and two constables came with a doctor, who put some stitches in my face—Williams had on a violet necktie, the same colour as that he has on now; I believe it is the same.

Cross-examined by Williams. You had on a black coat, cord trousers, and a hat like mine—I know you by your clothes and by your face.

WILLIAM PALMER . I live in Billington Street—I was with Lockwood on the night of 1st January—I saw one of the men strike him, and blood ran through his fingers—I do not recognise any of the prisoners.

ROSE KAVANAGH . I live at 31, Ottaway Street—on New Year's night, shortly before 11, I was in the street; I saw some men run up the street—I know Jennings and Ball—they ran into Longman's passage—I saw them come out again—I heard Jennings say, "God blind me"—I said, "Dave, what are you doing down here?"—he made no answer—they both went away.

Cross-examined by Jennings. I knew you by going out with my sister.

Cross-examined by Ball. I knew you by going out with Lizzie Thomas—I picked you out at" Worship Street.

THOMAS BROCKWELL (Policeman N 11). On 3rd January, a little after 1 a.m., I apprehended Hubbard at 6, Brunswick Street, South Hackney—he was in bed—I said, "I shall take you into custody for being con-cerned with a number of others in stabbing three men at Tiger Bay (that is Ottaway Street) on Sunday night, soon after 11"—he said," All right; I can prove I was in Tom Oousen's beershop till 10 minutes to 11, and was home soon after 11"—Oousen's beershop is in Diss Street, Bethnal Green, a little over a mile from Ottaway Street, and Brunswick Street about a mile—on 8th January I took Williams into custody at 17," Waterloo Street, Haggerston—I told him the charge the same as I did to Hubbard—he made no reply—the charge was also read over to him at the station—he made no reply then—before the Magistrate I heard both Ball and Kennedy say that they were at the Bell and Mackerel on Sunday night, 1st January, up to about 20 minutes past 10—I helped Baker take Kennedy into custody on "Wednesday night, 4th January—he was told the charge; he made no reply then—going along he said," I was at the Bell and Mackerel till 10 o'clock on Sunday night, the 1st.

Cross-examined by Hubbard. I found no knife on you or at your house; nor on "Williams.

JOHN GILBERT (Policeman 486). On 3rd January I took Kirby into custody at his own door—I told him it was for being concerned with some other men in custody for stabbing, &c, at Stoke Newington on the 1st of the smonth—he said" I was there at the time, but I had nothing to do

with the knives; Patsy Connor or Patsy Kennedy was the one that used the knife"—on the way to the station he said "I don't know if his name is Connor or Kennedy, but he always goes by the name of Patsy"—at the third hearing at the police-court he pointed Kennedy out to me at the rear of the Court, and said "That's him"—I can't say whether Kennedy heard him—I have known Kirby for some time—I know a number of persons called the "Dove Row gang;" they number from 100 to 200, more or less—I have frequently seen Kirby in their company about fifteen months ago.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I took him into custody at 91, Columbia Road; he lives there—his father called him to the door—I knew where he lived—I had not heard that his father had been to the station—I went to the house in consequence of what Inspector Hammond told me—I made a note of what Kirby said, after he was charged.

WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman N 84). I was on duty near the Rendle-sham Arms about 11 on the night of 1st January—I was called to Bur-dou, who was stabbed—I went after the gang, and on my way I saw Lockwood and Shenstone, who were also stabbed—I followed the gang over the Downs, and lost them.

EDGAR WEIGHT (Policeman N 488). On 2nd January I went with N 140 to Tuileries Street, South Hackney; I there eaw Jennings at work—I told him I was going to arrest him for being concerned with a number of men in stabbing three men in Ottaway Street on the night of the 1st, a little after 11—he said "I can prove that I went to bed at 2 o'clock on Sunday morning, and I did not get up till eight this morning"—on the way to the station he said "The first I heard of the row was this morning as I was coming to work"—at the station he was identified by Eliza Munday and Rose Kavanagh—they both picked him out from the others—I heard him say to the inspector "I was informed of the row last night at 12 o'clock when Hubbard came home, who lodged with me at No. 6, Brunswick Street, South Hackney, and if you go to him he can tell you all about it"—it is the fact that he and Hubbard lodged together.

CHARLES MAGUIRE (Policeman N 160). I was with Wright when Jennings was apprehended—the same night I went with him to the Variety Theatre in Pitfield Street, and there saw Ball—I told him he would be charged with being concerned with a lot of men in custody for stabbing some men in Rendlesham Road—he said he could prove that he was at the Bell and Mackerel. Mile End Road, with Kirby, and a number of others—I think he said at 9 o'clock—I took hold of him—he com-menced to draw himself away from me—he was very violent—he called out "Rouse" three or four times—I believe that means "Rescue"—at that time three or four hundred roughs had gathered round from the Variety Theatre—I was struck on the side of the head with a stone or some instrument on the way to the station—when charged at the station he made no reply.

Cross-examined by Ball There was no mob when I took you, but they soon gathered round.

JOHN BAKER (Policeman). On the 4th January, about a quarter past nine in the evening, I took Kennedy into custody outside the Variety Theatre—Bowden was with me—I was in plain clothes—when Kennedy saw me he ran away—I followed, and caught him—I told him I should

arrest him for being concerned with some men in custody, and some not, in riotous conduct, and stabbing three persons in Rendlesham Road on the night of 1st January—he made no reply then—next morning at the station, when charged, he said he was at the Bell and Mackerel with a number of others till about ten, and he got home about half-past ten, and went to bed—Bowden had told me that there was one there—I found on him a piece of paper with some writing on it; he said he wrote it at the Bell and Mackerel (This contained a list of names present at a friendly meet-ing at the British Queen on 14th January).

WILLIAM SHEE (Policeman). I took Collins into custody on 21st January in Spicer Street—I told him it was on suspicion of being con-cerned with others in street fighting, and stabbing some men in the neighbourhood of Stoke Newington—he said "I was not there; I used to belong to the street-fighting gang when old Nichol Street used to fight Dove Row; I had my head cut in three places in Church Street, and I then gave it up"—at the station the inspector asked him if he knew the other men who were locked up; he did not name them—he said "Yes, all of them"—on the way to the station he said "I hope they won't make much of it, as this is the first time I have been locked up"—I asked him if he was known by any other name—he said "Yes, Taters."

The following witnesses were called for the defence:MIRIAM HUBBARD. I am in no employment—I live at 6, Brunswick Street, Well Street, Hackney—I am sister-in-law to Hubbard—on Sun-day evening, 1st January, he went out after seven, and came home at eleven—he had his supper, and talked a little while, and then went to bed not long after.

Cross-examined. I was examined at the police-court—I said there, that he went out soon after seven, and came home at eleven—I married his brother—Jennings and he lodged with me—I don't know that they are great friends; I think they got acquainted by working together—I can't say how long they lived in the same house; Hubbard has been with me longer than Jennings—Jennings has lived with us over six months—my mother, and her husband live in the same house, and two lodgers, Neal and his wife—they were not in my place on 1st January—they never come into my part of the house—I rent the whole house, and let one room to Neal and his wife—it is a six roomed house—I and my husband occupy two rooms—my mother occupies one room, and Hubbard and Jennings another.

By Jennings. You came in late on Saturday night, and went to bed—you stayed in bed all day on Sunday, till Monday morning—your dinner was taken up to you—I sent up to know if you would have any tea, and you said" No"—Hubbard went up to you several times, and found you in bed.

Re-examined. He was not ill—he has remained in bed all day Sunday on two or three occasions—he had the Graphic to read.

JOHN HUBBARD . The prisoner went out on Sunday night, 1st January, at a quarter to half-past 7, and he returned home at 11 exactly; I looked at the clock—he had supper, and went to bed about half-past 11.

Cross-examined. My wife said to him "You are home early this evening, Bill," and I looked at the clock and it was 11—it was early for holiday time, New Year's Day—I gave evidence before the Magistrate—I have heard of the Dove Row gang, I don't know any of them—I never

heard that my brother belonged to it, or Jennings—I have known Jennings about seven months, while he has lived in our house—he was in bed when Hubbard came home on the Saturday night, and he was a-bed all day Sunday—I called him and my brother at 8 o'clock—I saw him in bed on several occasions on Sunday—I took him his dinner about 8 o'clock—about 4 I went and got the plates, and about 9 I went for the lamp that they used to go to bed by, and about half-past 10, while my wife was getting supper, I said I would go up and get the key, and I found him asleep then—I told the Magistrate that he was in bed all day on Sunday—I do not know any of the other prisoners—I never saw any of them till they were at Worship Street—I don't know at what time Hubbard came home on New Year's Eve, I was in bed.

By the COURT. He is between 17 and 18 years of age—he came home occasionally at 12, or half-past 11, no particular hour; sometimes they go to the Variety Theatre and come home at half-past 12 o'clock.

CHARLOTTE WILLIAMS . I live at 6, Upper Brunswick Street—I am a monthly nurse—I am no relation to the prisoner—I have lodged with my daughter, Mrs. Hubbard, over three months—Hubbard came home about 5 minutes to 11 on Sunday night, 1st January.

Cross-examined. I was not called as a witness before the Magistrate—I was attending a lady—I did not look at the clock when Hubbard came in—I know the time because I went and fetched my supper beer at a quarter past 10—my daughter and her husband were there when he came in, and my daughter made a remark about his coming home so early—I did not see Jennings in bed, but from what my daughter said I believe he was at home.

JOHN KIRBY . I am the father of the prisoner Kirby, he is 17 years of age—I am a working jeweller, and live at 91, Columbia Road, Hackney Road—I am the landlord of the house—on Sunday, 1st Jan., I went to bed at 20 minutes to 11—my son had not come home then—I heard him come in afterwards, just as the public-house opposite, the Baxendale Arms, was closing—I sleep in the front room upstairs, and I heard them call "All out"—the detectives came to my house on Monday night, 2nd January, when I was in bed; they came to inquire about my son; he was not in at the time—I took him to the station about half-past 12 on the Monday night—he was not taken into custody then—the detec-tives told me what the charge was—subsequently, at 1 o'clock on the Monday night or Tuesday morning, the constable Gilbert came to take him into custody—I spoke to him, and called my son up—the constable said" I know the lad, I will take him to the police-station"—that was all he said, and away we went—they talked about something going along—I did not exactly hear the words—I heard all that was said at the street door—my son did not say anything.

Cross-examined. I saw him at 11 o'clock, when he came home—he came up to my room, and took off his jacket to go to bed—I was not examined as a witness before the Magistrate—I was called, but I was not allowed to speak—I did not mention about his coming into my room.

ELLEN KIRBY . I am the wife of the last witness and the mother of the prisoner Kirby—on Sunday night, 1st January, my son came home at 11 o'clock—he came up into my room and I saw him.

Cross-examined. I know the time by the public-house opposite closing, and I heard the gentleman say "Now all outside; time, gentlemen"—

my husband was in the same room with me—my son does not come home at any particular time; on week-day nights it is about half-past 11; he is generally home early on a Sunday night—I did not hear him say anything to the constable—I said before the Magistrate "I heard him say to 86 H that he knew nothing about using any knives, but he did not deny being there"—I did hear him say that.

JOHN KIRBY , jun. I am the prisoner's brother—on Sunday night, 1st January, I let him in about five minutes past 11 o'clock, just after the public-houses were closed.

Cross-examined. I heard it strike 11 after he came in—he generally comes home on Saturday night about 11 or 12 o'clock—I do not always let him in, but on this particular night I did.

Re-examined. I teach a Bible-class on Sunday evening, which makes me come home late—I went to a friend's house after the Bible-class.

ELIZABETH BALL . I live at 68, Cardigan Street, Kennington Lane—I am the prisoner Ball's mother—he came home about a quarter to 12 on Sunday night, 1st January—he has always been a hard-working boy—he works six days a week—on Wednesday nights he works at the Graphic, and he can go back there.

JOHN WILLIAMS . I live at 17, Waterloo Street, Haggerstone, and am an engineer—the prisoner Williams is my son—on 1st January he went out at 8 and came home at 9 o'clock, and then went out to Mr. Marsh's—he came back at 25 minutes to 11, and he was in bed by 10 minutes to 11, and did not leave my roof after—he wore the coat he has on now, and a pair of brown trousers.

Cross-examined. I believe he had on the same violet scarf he has now—I let him in on this night.

The several prisoners in their defence repeated the statements as to their not being present at the riot. Kirby received a good character.

GUILTY on the first Count of riot HUBBARD KIRBY, and COLLINS— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, JENNINGS BALL KENNEDY, and WILLIAMS— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour, the Jury stating that they were ringleaders, and the worst of the rioters.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 1 st, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-313
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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313. JOHN G.ROBINSON (54) , Unlawfully obtaining 100l., 20l., 200l., and 46l. from divers persons by false pretences.

MR. MEAD Prosecuted.

FREDERICK WILLIAM KEYS . I now live at Bermondsey, and am a clerk—in April, 1877, I was in search of employment, and saw an adver-tisement in the Daily Telegraph, which I have destroyed—it said "Wanted a young man to learn a business; 100l. premium required"—I replied, and received an answer, in consequence of which I went to 16, Hart Street, Bloomsbury, to Mr. Charles Read, an auctioneer's office—I saw the prisoner there—he said that he would give me an appointment if I would give him 100l. premium, and would teach me the business of a manufacturing chemist, and at the end of three months he would return the money with 5 per cent, interest added, without any reduction, and would give me six guineas a month salary—on 30th May I met him again at the same place, and paid him 100l. in ten 10l. notes, and he signed this

letter: "To F.W. Keys Dear Sir,—In consideration of your paying me a premium of 100l., I agree to accept your services for three months from June 1st at 6l. 60s. per month, and at the expiration of three months to return you the said premium without reduction, with interest at 5 per cent, per annumn during such period, and at the end of three months if mutually satisfied a fresh agreement will be made, on such terms as may be agreed on. J. G. Robinson."—I met him again by appointment at the same place, and he took me to 8, Duke Street, to a back room on the ground floor, which he said was to be the depot for the manufacture of certain of his preparations—there was no furniture in the room, only a mahogany slab left by other people, but a deal table was bought, and two chairs—I attended there seven or eight months, but no business was carried on, and only about two people came the whole time—I received altogether about twelve guineas wages, and expended 7l. for bottles, crates, chemicals, and a saucepan and kettle—I was not repaid that amount—my duty was to fill blue glass bottles with charcoal, which was brought in brown paper bags—they were corked up and sealed, and taken over to 1 and 2, Railway Approach, London Bridge—I also made anti-septine, a preparation of salt and sugar as a preservative of butter, and another preparation, where I mixed blacklead with cart-grease—that was all I learned—at the end of six months I broke my leg, and was a-pacitated from attending the office—I wrote to the prisoner asking him to send me my salary or come and see me, but he did not come, nor did I receive any money or the 100l. while I was laid up—when I recovered I went to the office, and the prisoner came there one day—I asked him when he was going to pay me my 100l.—he said that he had been trying to make arrangements with a gentleman, but was not able, and he was very unwell—I asked him where he lived—he said "16, Park Street"—I went there, and they told me he did not live there—I met him acci-dentally near Holborn twelve months ago, and asked him when he was going to settle my 100l., and the salary owing—he said that he had been very unwell, and could not come to any arrangements about making a new company—I was not able to find him afterwards till he was in custody—when I parted with my 100l. I thought his statements were genuine, and Mr. Read told me he had known him a long time, and it was all right—that was in his presence—I believed what he said about the business.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. These are my receipts to you (Amount-ing to 44l. 2s. for salary, and 17l. for petty cash)—I really did not know that I had received so much—they begin on June 30th, 1877, and go down to January, 1878—I was under the impression that I had only received 12l., but these are my signatures—this is my receipt for 17l. 5s. 71 1/2 d. for disbursements for petty cash, but over and above that I paid 7l.—here is your I O U for 21l. in August, 1877, for salary due—you gave me the 2l. on account, and added it to the expenses—I kept a memo-randum of my receipts, but I thought I should never see you again, and threw most of them away—I attended regularly, and Mr. Camp will prove it—I did go to Hastings with your permission, you gave me a holiday—I went to the office day by day, and never saw you; if you went there it was after 1 left at 6 o'clock—you never found me in the place with a lady, nor did you speak to her.

Re-examined. When I saw him in Holborn he did not dispute the 100l. which was due to me—I did not learn anything.

THOMAS TIBBETTS . I live at 43, Vincent Square, Wesminster—I have been a licensed victualler, but am out of business—in April, 1876, I put an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph, and received an answer, in con-sequence of which I went to 26, King William Street, the office of Messrs. Yarrow, auctioneers, on the second floor—I saw the prisoner there—he promised to teach me the chemical manure manufacture, and asked what deposit I could give him as security—I said 20l.—he said that my duty would be to collect money and attend to the works at Deptford, and that the name of the firm was Grantham and Co., and the business chemical manures—I paid him the 20l. on 19th April, and he gave me a bill at three months—I was to have six guineas a month salary, and 1 per cent, commission, and at the end of three months a fresh agreement was to be entered into—he signed this agreement. (Dated 19th April, embodying the above terms), and also this receipt—I began to attend the office next morning, 86, King William Street, and at the end of three weeks "Grantham and Co." was painted on the door—I attended for three months, and received my salary every month, 18 guineas altogether—the prisoner attended every day, but no business was carried on—he never took me to the manufactory at Deptford—at the end of the three months I applied for the return of my 20l., and he said that he would let me have it in the course of a day or so, but I have never received it—I instructed a solicitor to sue on the bill of exchange which the prisoner gave me, but I obtained nothing—I saw the prisoner at his office about two years ago, as I had inserted an advertisement in a newspaper, and received an answer from him, but I did not speak to him about my 20l.

By the COURT. I did not collect anything; I sat in a chair all day long—no books were kept—the only letters written were under initials—the prisoner came at 1 o'clock and left about 2.30—he sat in the front room—no business whatever was carried on.

Cross-examined. When I left you wanted me to stop, but I would not—you said that I should be transferred to the office at Deptford in three weeks, but I stayed three months.

MARMADUKE HENRY ST. JOHN ROBINSON . I am now a teacher of music at Bloomfield Crescent, Westbourne Terrace—in June, 1873, I was a pupil of Mr. Kent, of the Central Telegraph School, 9 and 10, Rail-way Approach; he introduced me to the prisoner, who said he was a manufacturing chemist, manager to Grantham and Co., 26, King William Street, and he knew of a large parcel of manure which was to be bought a great bargain, for 200l., and it could be sold at a large profit—he asked if I could advance that amount, and I should be assistant or secretary to a patent chemical manure company, at a salary of four guineas for the first three months, and if we came to a mutual under-standing, eight guineas a month afterwards—I objected to advance the premium, and he then proposed that it should be a loan—I said that I would write to my father—I did so that night, and he eventually came up—this paper contains the proposals reduced to writing, in which the prisoner is called Robinson No. 1, and I am Robinson No. 2. (This was an agreement between the parties embodying the above arrangement, and agreeing to give a bill for the 200l). I ultimately received a cheque from my father for 200l.—the prisoner then showed me this receipt. (For 300l. from Mr. Robinson, for a parcel of manure, signed Bennett and Co.)—he took me down to Bermondsey and showed me a parcel of manure which was to be

bought; I was satisfied and handed him the cheque—I remained at the office about six months as secretary or assistant—I only wrote a few labels; there were no books for me to keep, and no one came about manure—he gave me no instruction in the preparation of artificial manure—he came there irregularly—I received four guineas a month to the end of the year, and I may have received another month's salary—at the end of three months I applied to him for the return of the 200l., and he wrote several letters to my father, telling him not to be afraid, as the money would be forthcoming—he ceased to attend the office before I did, and I could not find him till he was in custody.

Cross-examined. You showed me this draft of a prospectus of a chemical company (produced), in which my name is down as the secretary—there is no date to it—it was not printed—I believe you sent my father the interest when the bill became due—this is his letter acknowledging the receipt of the post-office order—the old bill was returned and you gave him a new one.

REV. JOHN ELIOTT ROBINSON . I am in holy orders, and live at 36, Sydenham Park, Kent—the last witness is my son—he made a communi-cation to me, in consequence of which I sent him a cheque for 200l., on the representation made by the prisoner as to the lucrative business he was embarking in, and the benefit it would be to my son—I wrote a number of letters to the prisoner and received a number in reply, making. excuses for the non-payment of the money—I have not got it, but the interest was paid.

FREDERICK BOTTOMLEY . I am a schoolmaster of Spillsbury, Oxford-shire—on 20th July I advertised in the Daily Telegraph for a situation, and received this reply. (Offering a'confidential appointment, and inquiring what amount of security could be given and what income would be expected, signed "Alpha"). I answered that, and received a letter and went to Willis and Perkins's office, Grocers' Hall, Poultry, where I saw the prisoner—he took down a Directory, pointed to the name of Allen and Co., 38, Berners Street, Oxford Street, manufacturing chemists, and said "I am in connection with the firm, and I have connections all over the country; I have taken a contract for the sale of sewage manures which I wish to dispose of independent of the firm; I have taken an office in Queen Victoria Street, and it will be your duty to go there and receive all letters and all moneys, and keep the books and accounts and settle monthly; as you will have to receive a great sum of money, it is abso-lutely necessary that you should give good security; the security you offer is very small"—I had offered 50l.—I said "If that is not sufficient, I have friends who will be able to advance, but that is the only money I have"—he said that he had 1,000 customers, and asked if I had the money with me; "I said "Yes, but out of the 50l. I shall have to take a season ticket," and I paid him 46l.—he said I was to have 25s. a week-salary and 21l. 2 per cent, on the gross returns—I went with him to Guild-hall Free Library, and he made out a receipt for 4l. and this agreement (produced), and signed them—nothing was said as to the 4l. balance—he made another appointment to meet me, and took me to 240, Mansion House Chambers, and said "This is my office"—we did not go in, the door was locked—after that, at his request I inserted an advertisement for in office—I received a number of answers, and went with him to see a number of offices, but he did not take any of them—he gave Queen

Street, Queen Anne's Gate, as his private address—I was never estab-lished in any office by him, and all our interviews were in the street, at places which he appointed—I chose an office in Southampton Row, but he did not take it—this went on till 9th September, when I asked him to sign another agreement, which was signed in Old Broad Street post-office, in the same terms as the other—I asked him to return the 50l.—he said "That is too hard on me, you must come and see my solicitor," and took me to the office of the Strand Board of Works, where he asked for Mr. Clark; they said "Not in;" we waited an hour and a half and then he repeated the inquiry, and the answer was given "This is not Mr. Clark's office"—I spoke to a constable and asked him to take the prisoner in custody; he declined as he had no warrant—I never saw him afterwards till he was in custody at the Mansion House—I have only received 1l. from him—this is my receipt for 5l., that was 1l. for myself and 4l. to make up the premium—I have his receipt for the 4l.—I parted with my money because he said that he was connected with Allen and Co., who had been established a long time, and that he was respect-ably connected, and that his private residence was 4, Great Queen Street, and that a personal friend had let him. have the office in Mansion House Chambers—he said that he would show me receipts showing that he had paid 20,000l. for manure, and showed me a printed circular with a name at the bottom, but the address was taken off—I believed that he had 1,000 customers.

Cross-examined. I never heard that you had offices at 1, Broad Street Buildings—you did not say that as this was to be a separate affair I had better try and find offices—you wrote to me to make an apology.

Re-examined. I was not established in any office in Old Broad Street-he did not offer to deposit the 50l. with Mr. Perkins as stakeholder.

ALEXANDER GORELLO . I am a bootmaker, of 38, Berners Street—about July, 1879, the prisoner took a back room in my house, at 6s. 6d. a week, and occupied it till about the end of 1880, when he left without. giving notice, and owing four or five months' rent—I never saw any business carried on, but sometimes people came and asked for him—he left there a table, four chairs, some jars, and a lot of circulars like these (produced).

Cross-examined. I said that the office was going to be repaired, and if you did not go I should put your things into the street—you said "Put them somewhere, and I will come some day. "

ARTHUR GODFIELD HOTHAM . I am an Australian merchant, of 11, Queen Victoria Street—I occupied room 240, and wished to let room 239 in July last, and advertised to that effect, but I never let it to the prisoner.

WILLIAM BARDWELL . I am an architect, of 4, Great Queen Street, Westminster—the prisoner did not live there during 1881, but I gave him permission to have letters addressed there—I received two letters for him, which I offered to a detective; he refused to take them—I opened them, they were signed by Mr. Bottomley, and I destroyed them—I knew the prisoner's father.

WILLIAM POTTS (City Detective). On 10th January I met the prisoner, and having seen a warrant for his apprehension, I followed behind him and said "Robinson;" he looked sharp round, and I said "Is your name Robinson?"—he said "No, my name is Bennett, I am a commercial

traveller"—I said I thought his name was Robinson, and if he would go with me to 20, Cannon Street, a gentleman there would know whether his name was Robinson or not, and I said "I believe you used to be in Berners Street, Oxford Street, carrying on a chemical firm in the name of Allen and Co.; "he said No"—I asked if he knew a Mr. Bottomley, a schoolmaster of Oxford, he said "No"—I took him to 20, Cannon Street, and as soon as I turned the handle of the door he said, "This man says my name is Robinson; my name is Bennett, is it not, sir?"—a gentleman said" Your name is Robinson"—I said" I shall take you in charge on a warrant for defrauding Bottomley. "

The prisoner in his defence contended that his case was similar to that Of John Anderson Rush (Sessions Paper, vol. i. p.), in which the RECORDER held that the offence did not amount to a false pretence, and stated that he was only suffering from the exaggerated statements of Others.

GUILTY .— Six Months Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, March 1 st, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-314
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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314. WILLIAM JACKS (52) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully having in his custody on 2nd February ten counterfeit florins, and three counterfeit half-crowns, with intent to utter them.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-315
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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315. PETER SMITH (44) to unlawfully having in his possession on 18th February 40 counterfeit half-crowns and 15 counter-feit florins, with intent to utter.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-316
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

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316. WILLIAM JACKSON was again indicted for the same offence after a previous conviction, and upon this indictment no evidence was offered.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-317
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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317. GEORGE STEVENSON (42) and JOSEPH TULLEY (18) Indecent exposure in a public place.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. FOSTER REID defended Stevenson. Stevenson received a good character.


OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 2nd, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-318
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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318. EDWARD FRANKLIN (28) , Feloniously shooting at Edward Reany, with intent to murder. Other Counts, with intent to maim and dis-able, to prevent his lawful apprehension, and to do grievous bodily harm.


WILLIAM STAPLETON (Policeman N R 33). On 23rd January I was in Brook Road, Clapton, with another constable, Clover, 43 N, at about twenty minutes past 3 in the morning, and saw the prisoner and another man named Miller leave the front garden of 23, Brook Road, together—they walked on to Nightingale Road, and we ran after them—they stopped near a lamp in Walsingham Road—when we got within ten or twelve yards of them Franklin turned round and presented a revolver at me, saying "Stop, stop you b—, if you come any farther I will shoot you; you shall" have this"—seeing the revolver pointed at my body, I

ducked, and threw my body on one side—the pistol was not fired off then—both the prisoners then ran away up Nightingale Road—I and Clover ran after them, springing our rattles, and calling out "Stop thief" at the top of our voices—we lost sight of them on Hackney Downs, being ex-hausted from running—about 5.30 in the morning I saw Franklin at the station, and picked him out from others as the man who had pointed the revolver at me—he is the man—the lamp the prisoner stopped under was opposite 55, Nightingale Road.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were standing close against the lamp in the road, close to the corner—55 is the last house at that corner.

WILLIAM CLOVER (Policeman N 42). I was with the last witness, and saw Franklin and Miller stop under a lamp in Walsingham Road—I saw Franklin present a revolver, which he had in his hand, towards us—he said "You b—, if you come any farther you will have this"—they both turned and ran, and we lost sight of them on Hackney Downs—at half-past 6 I went to the police-station and picked out the prisoner from amongst others, as the man who had pointed the pistol at us—he is the man—I was in uniform.

EDWARD REANY (Policeman N 235). On the morning of 31st January I was in Norfolk Road, Hackney, in uniform at half-past 3—I heard a cry "Stop thief" at a great distance, and went in the direction of Mon-tagu Road, and met two other constables, Bruce and Riches, and we all three went down the Montagu Road—I there saw the prisoner walking alone in the carriage way quietly—no one was pursuing him—I was in advance of the two other constables—I stepped in front of him, and said" What's up, old man?"—he then put his right hand into the breast of his overcoat and took out this revolver (produced)—he said "Which of you will have this?" presenting it towards me quite full—he was between four and five yards from me—I called out to the other constables" Look out, 40, he has got a revolver"—I turned left about, and took three paces to my right—he said "I will shoot you, "again pointing the revolver at me—I said" No you won't," and at the same time threw up my left hand—he said "I will"—I said" Come," and at that moment he fired—the pistol was fired directly at me—I felt nothing at the time—as soon as he fired I closed. with him, and knocked him down; while he was down, and I on the top of him, he still had the revolver in his right hand, and he turned his wrist so as to bring the revolver as far round as he could towards me—I then slipped my hand along the revolver, and took it from him—with the asssistance of the other constables I took him to the police-station—when we got there I found that a bullet had gone through my outer coat, the inner coat, and had lodged in the lining; it dropped out—the inspector found it—I gave the revolver to the inspector—it was examined at the station, and found to be a six-chambered revolver—five chambers were loaded with powder and ball, and one appeared to have been recently discharged—I saw the inspector search him and find upon him a chisel, screw-driver, gimlet, two table knives, a dark lantern, silent lucifers, two keys, twopence, and a circular—I should think the place where the prisoner fired at me was about two miles from No. 10, Brook Road, on the other side of Hackney Downs.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You first presented the pistol at my dy, but did not fire at that time—while you were on the ground you

pointed it as near my body as your hand would permit, but I was not going to let you bring it all the way—it was pointed in the direction of my body.

WILLIAM BRUCE (Policeman N 240). On 21st January I was in the Montagu Road—Reany came up to me and another constable, and we all three went up Montagu Road, and met the prisoner—Reany was in front of us about two paces—he said to the prisoner "Well, old man, what is the matter?"—the prisoner said" What?"—he put his right hand to the breast of his coat, and pulled out a revolver, and pointed it in the direction of us—Reany turned round to the left, and called out "Look out, 40, he has got a revolver"—I looked at the prisoner, and saw the revolver in his hand, I staggered back three or four paces, taken by surprise a bit—during that time the prisoner stepped across on the path where Reany was—Reany turned to him, and he said "I will shoot you"—Reany said "No you won't"—the prisoner said "I will, "and Reany put up his left hand as a guard, and said "Come"—the prisoner pointed the revolver up, and fired towards Reany—Reany closed with him, and threw him—the revolver was still in the prisoner's hand; Reany also had hold of it—it was turning towards Reany's body—I caught hold of the barrel, and turned it back away from Reany's body—between us we succeeded in taking him to the station—he was not violent on the way.

Cross-examined. The Dalston Police-station is about half a mile from Montagu Road.

By the COURT. Reany was two or three yards from the prisoner when he fired.

WILLIAM JENKINS (Inspector N). I was at Dalston Station when the prisoner was brought in by Reany and the other constables at about a quarter to 4—the revolver was given to me; I have drawn the five charges of powder and ball, one was discharged—I saw the bullet drop from Reany's sleeve—I took the chisel and other articles from Franklin's pockets—he was charged with attempting to murder Police-constable Reany by shooting him with a revolver in the intent to resist his lawful apprehension, and having housebreaking implements in his possession—in reply he said, "I can't see that you can make it attempted murder, as it was not premeditated; I should not have done it if he had given me the same chance as I gave him, and I am now sorry"—after an interval he said, "I shot him in self-defence; I only carried the revolver to frighten any one"—he was detained in custody—the other man Miller was brought to the station afterwards—I noticed some soft mould on the prisoner's boots at this time—the next day I went to Grenville, Mr. Bellingham's house; I saw some marks on the newly-dug border as if persons had dropped from the wall—it is the wall of the Great Eastern Railway embankment—there were footmarks of two persons in the garden at the rear of Grenville; I also saw marks at the drawing-room windows at the back; I examined them and found they corresponded with the chisel; there were also marks of a jemmy; one window was actually forced about six inches, the back gate was forced, and the footmarks were traced as if they had got out of No. 10; on the wall was new mould; by getting over that wall they would have got out at No. 10.

Cross-examined. I examined your boots myself—several constables were present—I also examined Miller's boots—the marks on the back garden-gate corresponded exactly with the chisel—I did not compare

your boots with the footmarks because I was not aware of the house having been attempted till next day.

WILLIAM PEEL (Police Inspector). On 2nd February I went to 341, New North Road; I found the prisoner lodged there—in a cupboard in the back parlour, a bedroom occupied by the prisoner, I found these 35 cartridges (produced) which fit the revolver.

Prisoner's Defence. On the night of 31st January I met two constables; they ran after me; I stopped and presented the revolver at them, I admit, but I did not fire, because I had no intention either of killing or wounding. Some time after I met the constable Reany, and I admit that I presented the revolver, but not at his body; if I had I should have shot his body, not through the sleeve of his coat. When on the ground, he said before the Magistrate, that I presented the pistol at his body again. I admit that I did so, but not then. I refrained from firing because I had no intention, of killing or wounding. The lives of the three constables were in my hand, had I felt disposed to have taken either, but such was not my intention. I only carried the revolver to frighten people, to prevent my lawful apprehension, and I think anybody else would have done the same placed as I was.

GUILTY on the three last counts.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-319
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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319. EDWARD FRANKLIN was again indicted, with WILLIAM MILLER (22) , for being found by night armed with a dangerous and offensive weapon, with intent to break and enter the dwelling-house of William Bellingham. Second Count, for having in their possession housebreaking implements.


JESSIE EDITH BELLINGHAM . My father, William Bellingham, is a distiller, living at Grenville, Clapton Road, and I live with him there—at about 2.30 on the morniug of Tuesday, 31st January, I was sleeping on the first floor, and I heard a noise which seemed to come from the window underneath, the morning room; it seemed like a knocking noise, and then there was a louder noise, as if a window was being pushed up; I got up and called my brother, who was sleeping on the same floor as myself; I turned up the gas; the noise continued for a short time—the blinds of my window are very close, so that I think a person outside would not see the gas-light—I and my brother listened for some time, and then the noises ceased—subsequently on the 31st I looked at the window of the morning-room, and saw that somebody had attempted to force it—that was the room from which the noise had seemed to come in the night.

Cross-examined by Miller. The noise might have lasted for about a quarter of an hour after 2.30.

Cross-examined by Franklin. Neither I nor any one went down to see if anybody was breaking in.

SELINA BEDDINGHAM . I am parlour-maid to Mr. Bellingham, of Grenville—on 30th January, about 11 o'clock at night, I saw that the window of the morning room was securely fastened; the next morning, about a quarter to 7, on going down I found it pushed up six inches; it was prevented from going higher by a screw, which was fastened in the sash—there was a ladder reaching from the area to the morning-room window, and a long pole by the side of it, and another pole lying on the ground—

there were some marks on the window frame which I afterwards showed to the inspector when he came on Wednesday, 1st February—there were also marks on the three windows of the drawing-room, but they had not been forced open—I saw the inspector compare the marks with some implements.

AARON HOLLINGSWORTH . I am gardener to Mr. Bellingham—about 7 o'clock on the morning of 31st January I found that the toolshed had been broken open, and a ladder taken out and placed against the morningroom window, which was a little way open—the ladder was safe in the toolhouse when I locked it up the night before—I found a pole under the window, and I also found that the back garden gate had been forced open.

WILLIAM STAPLETON (Policeman NR 33). On 31st January I was in Brook Road with Constable Clover at 3.20, and I saw the prisoners leave the front garden of 10, Brook Boad, together, and go to Nightingale Road—we ran after them—subsequently they stopped in Nightingale Road, and we followed them as far as we could, and they went over Hackney Downs and we lost sight of them—the place they stopped at under the lamp was close to 55, Nightingale Road, where the jemmy was found—Franklin is one of those men; Miller is the other.

Cross-examined by Miller. When I went to the Dalston Lane Police-station at 6 o'clock on morning of 31st to identify you, I picked out another man first, and then I turned to Inspector Jenkins and said "I have made a mistake, that is the man," pointing to you.

Re-examined. I have no doubt whatever that Miller is the man.

WILLIAM CLOVER (Policeman N 421). I was with Stapleton and saw two men leave 10, Brook Boad, and followed them, and saw them stop, and Franklin presented a pistol—there was a man standing at his side then who had left 10, Brook Road with him—Miller is the man—at 6.30 I went to the police-station and picked out both the prisoners from a number of others without any doubt.

Cross-examined by Miller. 55, Nightingale Boad is about 50 yards from 10, Brook Road.

EDWARD REANY (Policeman N 235). On the morning of 31st January, at 3.30, I saw Franklin—I was with two other constables—he presented a revolver at me and fired—I closed with him and took the revolver from him—he was taken into custody and taken to the station—there the inspector searched him—I gave the revolver to the inspector.

Cross-examined by Miller. You were not in company with Franklin when he fired at me—I saw you nowhere about.

WILLIAM JENKINS (Inspector N). About 3.45 on the morning of 31st January Franklin was brought in custody to Dalston Station—the revolver (produced) was given to me by Reany, loaded in five chambers—on Franklin I found a chisel, screwdriver, gimlet, dark lantern, knives, silent matches, two keys, and twopence, also this printed circular of a photographer, Messrs. Brown, Barnes, and Bell, on the second page of which there is written the name of Otley—Franklin was charged and detained at the station—some constables and Sergeant Payne afterwards brought in Miller about 4.30—I took him into the room where Franklin was and said" You will be charged with being concerned with Franklin, being suspected persons, found on enclosed premises and having housebreaking implements in his possession"—he

said "I don't know what you mean, I never saw that man in my life before"—Franklin did not say anything then—I saw Miller searched—Payne took from him this circular, which corresponds with the other one taken from Franklin, and on the second page there is writing and the name of Otley—I noticed the boots of the two men, they were covered nearly to the laceholes with loose fresh black mould—I said "They have been over some one's grounds this morning"—on the next day, 1st February, I went to Grenville—I saw there marks as if two persons had dropped from the wall on to the newly-made borders—I saw that the garden gate had been broken through and loose mould on the top of the wall dividing 10, Brook Eoad from the road—in that way they could have got out of No. 10—No. 10 is about 100 yards from Grenville—I took the different housebreaking implements from Franklin and compared them with the marks at Grenville, and I also took with me a jemmy which had been placed on the mantelpiece of the police-station—the marks on the outer sill of the window corresponded exactly with this jemmy, which is really a packing-case opener, and the chisel which I took from Franklin—the marks were nearly in the centre of the windows—there were four windows marked, the catch of one was broken—there were marks also on the back garden door, it had been forced with both instruments apparently.

Cross-examined by Miller. I saw you first at Dalston Lane Station—I saw no house-breaking implements taken from you.

Cross-examined by Franklin. I followed the footmarks to the rear of No. 10 to about four or five yards from the road.

GEORGE PAYNE (Police Sergeant N 36). On 31st January, about 4.30 in the morning, I was in the Amhurst Road and saw Miller—that was about three-quarters of a mile from Brook Road—I asked him what he was doing out so late—he said" I have been to try to find an aunt at Stratford, I got too late for the train and have lost my way"—I asked him for his name and address—he said" Bill Miller"—I said "I suppose you mean William?"—he said "Yes, 14, Back Hill, Holborn," and that he was a barber—I said" You are the man I saw before tonight with the man we have at the station for shooting at one of our men"—I had seen the two prisoners together that morning at about 1.5 or 1.10 in Woodland Street, Dalston—he asked me what time I had seen him, and I said a few minutes past 1 o'clock—they were standing talking together—he said "I know nothing of any other man, I have been by myself all day"—I took him in custody and took him to the Dalston Police-station—I there searched him and found on him this circular (produced), which I showed to the inspector—the place I saw him in before was about one and a half miles from Brook Road and Grenville.

Cross-examined by Miller. When I took you into custody you were talking to two other constables in the Amhurst Road.

DAVID LEWIS (Policeman N 293). On the morning of 31st January I was in the Downs Road and saw the prisoners there; they passed by me together at about 2.30, going in the direction of Rendlesham Road—no one else was with them; the Rendlesham Road leads into the end of the Brook Road—I followed them as far as the Amhurst Road into the beginning of the Kenninghall Road—I followed them about 200 yards before they passed me again—I am positive these are the two men—I saw them again afterwards at the police-court amongst eight or nine others—a

week afterwards when they came up on their remand I recognised them again at once.

Cross-examined by Miller. It was about 2.40 when I lost sight of you—that was about 120 yards from Brook Road.

DANIEL JOHN OTLEY . I keep a coffee-house at 36, Ball's Pond Road, Islington—I remember hearing of Reany being shot—he came into my shop about dinner time next day, Tuesday—the day before that two men, the prisoners, came to my shop in the afternoon between 3 and 4 o'clock—I served them—I gave each of them one of these photographer's circulars with my name, Otley, written on the second page—I talked to them about the photographic club I hold there—the prisoner Franklin made some remarks as he went out about having come there from Chatham to buy some goods to open a coffee-house at Chatham with—I afterwards picked them out to-day from a number of prisoners.

THOMAS DIAMOND . I live at 2, Cashmere Terrace, Point Road, Hackney, and am a milkman—about 7 o'clock on the morning of 31st February I found this jemmy in the garden of 55, Nightingale Road—that is about 50 yards from Brook Road—I gave it to the police.

Franklin, in his defence, stated that he did not dispute the evidence, but contended that it did not prove that he was one of the parties concerned in the attempted burglary. Miller stated that he was not with Franklin at all, and that the constables had mistaken him for another person.


They also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted of felony, Franklin at Clerkenwell on 13 th May, 1874, in the name of Henry Williams , when he was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude; and Miller in October, 1875, at Clerkenwell, in the name of James Trehearn , when he was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude.

The Jury wished to draw attention to the bravery of the constable Reany, and the Court awarded him the sum of 5l. as a mark of satisfaction for his conduct.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-320
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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320. FREDERICK PURCHASE (39) was indicted for and also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the manslaughter of Ann Webb.


SAMUEL BURN . I am a grocer of 26, North Street, Chelsea—I know the public-house called the Queen and Prince Albert, in Park Place, Knightsbridge—I went there on the afternoon of Friday, 13th February, between 2.30 and 3—Mrs. Webb, the landlady, was serving behind the bar—no one else was there—she appeared to be all right at that time—I remained in the house till after 11 o'clock at night—I first saw the prisoner there between 9 and 10 o'clock—he was behind the bar serving—about 10.30 there was a man there whom he was serving with some ale—he took twopence for the ale and put it in the drawer and took a handful of silver out and put it in his pocket—Mrs. Webb was then at the other end, the Knightsbridge end—the prisoner then came round on the other side—I afterwards saw Mrs. Webb and spoke to her, and I heard some words between Mrs. Webb and the prisoner after I had spoken to her, and then I heard him swear at her—he said "You old b——, if you paid people what you owed them it would look

better of you"—I saw the prisoner get one glass of whisky to drink and no money taken for it, and she put her hands on the spirit tap to prevent him taking it—they both seemed sober—I saw nothing more taken—a man named Charles Hall, a butcher, was with me—he remained behind when I left, about 11.15—I do not know that the prisoner had been at the house for some months before this—I had not seen him for some months.

Cross-examined. I have known Mrs. Webb since some time in Christmas week—I had been to take a situation in Yorkshire; I went for a month on trial, and left at the end of my month—I got back to London before Christmas, and up to 13th January had had no employment—I had been about these premises on this day in front of the bar from 2 till 11 o'clock—I was not at the inquest—Hall is a friend of mine; I made his acquaintance in Christmas week in Pavilion Road, Chelsea—we were living in the same house together—on 13th January I slept in the same house with Hall at 26, North Street—Hall left London on 20th January—up to that date I slept in the same house with him—I have seen the police about this matter—Sergeant Harris asked me to go to the police-court as a witness—I did not know where Hall was going when he went away—I am quite sure about the words the prisoner used to the deceased; they were spoken out loud enough for any one in the place to hear; other persons were present to hear it—I cannot say whether I swore before the Magistrate that the words were, "You b——thief;" I may have told the Magistrate so.

CHARLES HALL . I am a butcher, and live at King's Head, Halifax Road, Filey, Yorkshire—on 13th January I was staying in London, and went to the Queen and Prince Albert in Park Place, Knightsbridge—the prisoner was there behind the bar—he had his coat off the fore part of the evening—he was in the cellar—I did not notice anything particular in his manner when he came into the bar between 11 and 12 o'clock—he came round to Mrs. Webb, who was sitting in a chair in front of the fire in the bar—he said something to her, I did not hear what—she said, "Mr. Purchase, I don't want any bother here to-night with you"—he then struck her at the side of her head with his hand; I won't be certain whether it was with the flat of his hand—she said, "You brute," or something, "don't murder me"—the prisoner said, "Get up, you b——cow, and clean the pint pots in the bar," and then he kicked her at the side of the calf of her legs as she sat in the chair—she swinged away from him, and he kicked her on the thighs, and the last time he kicked her was in the soft of her body in the right side—she kept singing out, "Don't murder me," and he struck her again with his clenched fist on the right side of the face, I think about the right temple; it was a nasty blow, it cut her face—she was crying out, "Don't murder me," and he up with his fist and said, "You b——, I would have murdered you long since if it had not been for the law"—I told Mrs. Webb I would send for a policeman or some one to stop him—she said "No"—the prisoner was using bad language, calling her a prostitute and one thing and another; I can't exactly name the words—I told him to give up, or I would throw a pint pot at his head if he did not give up hitting her—he said, "What the b——hell have you to do with it? have you any money in it?"—he also said when he got his temper up that way he was not particular whether it was a man or a woman that he hit—I had been

in the habit of using this house for a month or two to get a glass of beer—I knew nothing of the prisoner and deceased further than seeing them there—I left London on Friday, the 20th.

Cross-examined. I went to an office last Monday to make a statement of my evidence—I got a letter from the police-sergeant last Friday morning to come to London; that was the first time I knew that Mrs. Webb was dead—I had been in London five or six months before the 13th January, not living at the same place—I was in Finsbury Park a bit—I can't tell you how long I had known Burn; he came to lodge where I was six or seven weeks ago—we used to go out together sometimes—on 13th January I was with him up to 10 o'clock at night—he went away then; I remained till 12 o'clock—this hitting occurred when he was not there—there were three or four customers at the other end of the bar while these blows and this language were going on—it lasted about as long as I have taken to tell it—I can't say whether the woman served any one after she was struck—I never saw the prisoner again till now.

Re-examined. Sergeant Ansdell brought me a subpoena down to Yorkshire, and I was brought up and my evidence taken.

WILLIAM SEABORN . I am a coachman, and live at 21, Chapel Place, Brompton Road—on Friday night, 13th January, I was at the Queen and Prince Albert—I saw the prisoner come in on the Knightsbridge side between 9 and 10 o'clock—he went into the cellar—between 11 and 12 o'clock I saw him go behind the bar on the Park side where Mrs. Webb was sitting—he spoke to her in an angry tone; I did not take notice of the words—a little while after I heard her say "Oh"—I afterwards saw her come round to the Knightsbridge side to serve some customers—her eyes were black, and her face bleeding from the right side; her right eye was marked and bleeding—Mrs. Hughes asked the prisoner if he did it—the deceased said "Yes, it was him that done it"—the prisoner said to Mrs. Hughes," Yes, what has that to do with you?"—the deceased asked me to put up the shutters for her, and I did so, and then she closed the house directly—I did not see the prisoner strike her at all—the prisoner went away at the same time that I did.

Cross-examined. I did not remain in the house all the time the prisoner was there; I was in and out two or three times—I saw him come up from the cellar and fill the decanters—it was between 11 and 12 o'clock that I heard the deceased call out "Oh"—it was some little time before that that I heard him speak to her in an angry tone—she went on serving the customers—I did not hear any more quarrelling—I did not see the prisoner drinking at all—she shut the door after me when I left—there was no one left on the premises after me that I know of.

WILLIAM BROOME (Policeman A 360). I was on duty in Hyde Park on Friday night, 18th January—at 11.40 I was outside the Queen and Prince Albert, about two yards from the door on the Park side—I saw Mrs. Webb sitting behind the bar-counter—the prisoner was there; I heard him talking in an angry tone, I could not understand the words—I saw him strike the deceased a blow in the face on the right side with his clenched fist—she put her handkerchief over her face for a little while, and took it away again—I saw her draw her legs back as far as she could as if she was kicked, and the prisoner then struck her a blow on the right side of the face with his left hand open—he then stood talking

a few minutes, and struck her a blow on the right side of the face with his clenched fist, near the cheek-bone—at that time a man walked in at the Park end of the bar, and the deceased served him, and directly after that another man walked in, and she served him—the prisoner then walked away behind the bar where I could not see him—I waited a few minutes and saw no more; when I went away all was quiet.

By the COURT. I was inside the Park gates; they were locked; I could not get into the public-house from the Park; I should have had to go round to the Albert Gate, and then into Knightsbridge—I was on duty in the Park; I could not interfere—the Park gates close at 12 o'clock—I was about ten minutes looking at this—I did not call out, "What are you knocking the woman about for?" because I could hear several persons in the house talking, and the woman did not cry out at all—I heard no cries for help, and I did not think it my duty to interfere.

Cross-examined. The deceased was sitting nearly in the corner of the bar at the Park end—I am quite sure that she served two customers while I was looking on.

By the COURT. If I had been in the street and seen this I should not have thought it my duty to go in—I was not aware but what the prisoner was her husband; that was partly the reason why I did not interfere, and there being people in the house at the time—I thought it was their place to call the assistance of the police if there was any cause—I could not say with what force the blows were struck—I was eight or nine yards off—I could not say whether they were hard blows—the woman appeared to draw away from him at the time—I made no report of this till the inquest on the 27th.

JOSEPH BARTER . I am an auxiliary letter-carrier and a shoemaker by trade—on Friday, 13th January, I was in the Queen and Prince Albert from about half-past 10 till half-past 11—I saw the prisoner there; he served me—I only caught a glimpse of the deceased once some time after 11—the prisoner went from the bar end where I was to the other end where the deceased was and where I could not see her—an altercation seemed to take place between them—he called her a" b——cow," and told her to wash up some glasses—she said," I shan't"—he said, "You have been my b——ruin; I will be the death of you"—he then went towards her; I heard a tussle, and I heard the words," Don't, you brute, "but I did not see anything—I afterwards left the house.

Cross-examined. I had known Mrs. Webb for some years, but not to talk to her till eight or nine months ago—she lost her husband two years ago—I did not know that the prisoner had put money in the business—I have heard that he was 18 years in the service of one gentleman—I don't know how this quarrel arose—I did not hear any complaints about money—he seemed excited and agitated, I don't say from drink; he was not intoxicated—I did not see him leave—he was very rational—he came and spoke to me before the altercation—the deceased did not appear in drink; she looked more in terror, as if frightened.

MARTHA HUGHES . I am a widow, and live at 8, Park Place, Knights-bridge—on Friday night, 13th January, between 11 and 12, I went to the bar of this public-house—I saw the landlady behind the bar—the prisoner was there as well—her eyes were all blacked—I asked him if it was him that had treated her in that manner—she said," Yes, it was him"—he did not answer me—I believe they were both quite sober—he appeared very much excited—I was not in the house two minutes.

Cross-examined. I had on a former occasion assisted Mrs. Webb one night—I have seen her the worse for drink—she appeared sober that night, but I saw her so little that I could not answer.

JOSEPH HALLEN . I am a letter-carrier, and live at 31, Montagu Hill, Bristol—the deceased Ann Webb was my sister, she was the licensed occupier of this house—she had been a widow about two years—the prisoner used to assist her from time to time in the business—I last saw her on Monday, 16th January—she was then at his house in the bar-parlour—I saw the marks on her face then—before these injuries she had been a healthy woman, about 38 years of age.

Cross-examined. Before 13th January I had not seen her since 18th July—I visited her at the house in her husband's time—the prisoner was a friend of her husband years before my sister was married.

ANDREW FIFE , M. D., F. R. C. S. of Edinburgh, of 42, Montpelier Square, Brompton. On Saturday, 14th January, I was sent for to see Mrs. Webb at the public-house about 10 o'clock—I saw hex in the room adjoining the bar—her right eye was very much blackened, and a bruised cut under the outer angle of the eye; the left eye was also blackened and bruised, but not quite so badly as the right—there was a large bruise on the right side, partly on the bone and partly on the soft parts—there were bruises on both legs below the knees on the outside at the back of the legs—she answered my questions quite sensibly, but her hands trembled and her tongue was very tremulous when it was put out—the injuries were such as might have been inflicted the previous day—the injuries on the face might have been caused by a blow with a fist; those on the legs might have been from kicks—I saw her each day—I saw her standing there on the following Tuesday, but she stood in a very bent position, she could not stand upright—I ordered her to her bed each day—she was up contrary to my directions, but on Wednesday she took to her bed, and was in bed after that—she got gradually worse, and on Saturday morning she could be roused with great difficulty, and she died about half-past 2 on Saturday afternoon, 21st—I was present at the post-mortem examination—I did not make it—a medical student of St. George's Hospital actually did the acting part under my direction—I saw the state she was in—there was an effusion of blood close to the injury to the right eye, and between the skin and the temporal muscle—on opening the head there was an effusion of blood over the brain about two inches in diameter, and about one-eighth of an inch in depth, extending in between the convolutions of the brain, that was exactly opposite the injury to the right eye—there, was no external mark over where the injury was; it was opposite the injury at the front—a severe blow from the fist in front striking the right temple would account for the injury at the back; it is what is called counter-stroke; it was not an exact concussion—in this case the effusion was from a very small vessel, and must have gone on very slowly—a violent blow with the fist on the Friday night would be quite consistent with the appearances I saw and death happening on the Saturday—the rest of the organs were all healthy—the trembling hands and tremulous tongue are almost always the result of drinking—the brain was healthy excepting from the injury.

Cross-examined. It was about 10 on Saturday evening that I saw him—she had not been a patient of mine before I attended her husband

about two years before—the trembling hands and tongue were not so bad afterwards as when I first saw her—counter-stroke may occur either from a blow with the flat or back of the hand; it must have been a very severe blow—the effusion was not very slight; it was about two inches in diameter; it was close to the cut; it was not a mere scratch; it was a bruised cut; it was of no great depth; it was indicative of the severity of the blow—I could not say to a day when the effusion took place—I saw the injury to the side on the Saturday night when first called in.

THOMAS ARDELL (Police Sergeant B 3). On 27th January I took the prisoner into custody for causing the death of Ann Webb by striking her on the head on the 13th of last month—he made no reply.

Cross-examined. The inquest was then over, and the Jury had found a verdict of manslaughter—I took him immediately on the conclusion of the inquest—he was not examined before the Coroner.

GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT. Thursday, March 2nd, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-321
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

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321. WILLIS SIMMONTON, Unlawfully inflicting grievous bodily harm on Alfred Evans upon which MR. DE MICHELE offered no evidence.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-322
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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322. GEORGE HINES (62) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Charles James, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. LEVEY Prosecuted.

CHARLES JAMES . On 30th January I applied for an order for Maryle-bone Workhouse at their office, and saw the relieving officer—the prisoner was there; I said nothing to him, but he said to me "You great beast, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to go the workhouse"—I only knew him by sight—I told him to mind his own business and not interfere with me—I was passed out of the office, and as I went down the passage he came behind me; I turned round, and he struck me on my mouth—he rolled down and I walked away—I stopped at the corner of the street, and he took up the stick he was walking with and struck me in the eye—I gave him in custody.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said that you had quite enough to do to go and hang a man—he was a witness against a man named Devine who was hanged here some years ago, but I have never reproached him with it.

HERBERT JOHNSON . In January last I went to Marylebone Workhouse for an order, with James—the prisoner was there; he said that James had no right to be in the workhouse; James made no answer—we went outside, and the prisoner followed us and struck James with his fist, and fell down in so doing—James said nothing that I heard, but he went to the comer of the street, and Hines deliberately propelled his stick into James's eye.

FREDERICK WILLIAM SPURGEON . I am a surgeon, oi 14. Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square—on 30th January I examined James, and found on the inner side of his left eye an abrasion and contusion nearly halt an inch in circumference, such as might be done with a stick—there was considerable danger of his losing his eye, but he has got better.

WILLIAM CHAPMAN (Policeman D 76). I took the prisoner; he said that he never had a stick, but he is the habit of carrying one.

The prisoner in his defence stated that the witnesses wire all liars and perjurers.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .— Four Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-323
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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323. ADELAIDE HOWELL PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying Henry Moorhouse during the lifetime of her husband.— One Month's Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, March 2nd, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-324
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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324. JOHN COLLINS (21) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously assaulting Elizabeth Whelpdale, with intent to rob her.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-325
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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325. THOMAS HAYES (21) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charlotte Packer, with intent to steal.

MB. HICKS Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended. CHARLOTTE PACKER. I am a widow, and keep a wardrobe shop at 4, William Street, Lisson Grove—on Saturday night, 22 nd January, I went to bed at 12 o'clock—I left the house all safe—the door had a latch lock—about 3.30 a. m. on Sunday I awoke, and heard some one crawling along the passage—I slept in the back parlour behind the shop—he went through the house from the front to the back, down the steps at the back door into the yard—we do not always bolt that door because there are high walls—my room looks out into the yard—he came back and threw himself very heavily against my door; then I heard him go to the street door, open it, and prop it open with a stone, which I found there afterwards—he came back and tried the handle of the parlour door; I pulled my little blind aside and saw him in the passage—there is a lamp between my house and the next—he went out of the house and across the road and stood—I stood at tho shop door and called "Police"—I found the passage door propped with the stone—a policeman was at the corner; he said "Who calls?"—I said "I did"—the prisoner came across and said "God blind me, good night"—I said to the policeman "Make haste or you will lose him"—two policemen went after him; I saw one take him, two or three yards off—I gave him in charge—I did not miss anything.

Cross-examined. My lodgers have keys—the door has a spring hinge and fastens itself—it would not yield to the push of a drunken man—the prisoner looked very confused, as if he did not expect to find anybody at the shop.

JOHN BUTLER (Policman D 198). On Sunday morning, the 22nd January, I was on duty in Lisson Grove—I heard a cry of "Police"—I went to 4, William Street and saw the prosecutrix at the door in her night dress—the prisoner was standing opposite the house—the prosecutrix said "Be quick or he will be off"—the prisoner was walking sharp—I caught him, brought him back, and she charged him—I said "Where have you been?"—he said "I have not been in there at all"—a few minutes afterwards he said "If I was there I was there for no unlawful

purpose"—he appeared to be recovering from drink; he did not stagger—he looked confused about the face and eyes—he gave his address in Stephen Street, then 53, Devonshire Street, afterwards at 67, Salisbury Street; that is correet—he said "I have been staying with my sister"—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. My evidence at the police-court is correct; I asked him if he had been in the house—I have seen his sister; he was staying with her—I know nothing against him—I wrote this note at home about 12 o'clock after I had given my evidence—it is correct. (Read: " Stated that he had been trying the parlour door; prisoner first denied being there, and then said 'If I was there it was not for an unlawful purpose.'") The prosecutrix first accused him of being there, then he denied it; the prosecutrix was about twenty yards off when I stopped the prisoner; he said "Very well;" nothing more till we got back to the shop; then the prosecutrix said "He has been trying my parlour door; I stood and listened"—it was when I was taking him to the station that I said "Where have you been to-night?"—he made no answer—I have been fifteen years in the force—I never had a burglar before.

HENRY WYBURN (Police Inspector D). I had information of this burglary—I saw the premises; the front door was fastened by a latch—there is a defect in the latch, and it might be opened by any key or a good push from the shoulder—I do not think a drunken man rolling against it would do it—there were no marks of violence—there was no bolt—I saw it afterwards.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-326
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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326. SAMUEL ROBERTS (29) , Stealing a quantity of salt from John West Weston and others, his masters.

MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted.

JOHN WEST WESTON . I am a member of the firm of Weston and Westhall, salt merchants, at 115, Lower Thames Street—we have a number of depôts; one is at the London and North-Western premises, War-wick Road, Kensington—Roberts was in charge of that warehouse—he received salt and sent it away upon orders—he sent in every day an advice note to show what he received and sold, like these produced—he signed them with his full name, and Mr. Child, clerk at Thames Street, initialled them—it was his duty also to keep a stock-book at Kensington, which should correspond with the advice note—Child kept another stock-book at Thames Street, which should correspond in the entries of salt sent to him—he should bring the Kensington stock-book to Thames Street, and compare the items with the other stock-book—in the Kensington stock-book of 1st November there is no entry of the 5 tons 19 cwt., nor of the 1 cwt., which are entered in the advice note of that date—there is an erasure in the stock-book—there is no entry in it on 24th November of the 5 tons 19 cwt., entered in the advice note of 24th November, but there is an entry of 4 tons 10 cwt., that is 1 ton 19 cwt. less than the amount admitted to be received—there is no entry on 28th December in the stock-book of the 4 tons 19 cwt., of fine salt, nor of 1 cwt. of foul salt, although there is an entry of 5 tons in the advice note of that date—the entries are also omitted from Child's Thames Street stock-book—we took stock at the Kensington depôt on 28th January, and found a deficiency of about 20 tons—I said to the prisoner "You know what you have done with the salt?"—he said "I have had it"—I discharged him, and subsequently

I applied for a warrant against him and Childs—the prisoner was arrested.

WILLIAM BRAND (Police Sergeant T). I received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension on 28th February, and took him at 17, Alexandra Road, West Kensington—I read the warrant to him—he replied "That has to be proved. "

WILLIAM FLUISTER (City Detective Sergeant). I received a warrant from the City authorities for Child's apprehension on 2nd February—I have done my best, but have not been able to execute it.

Prisoner's Defence. I was supposed to send in my advices every day to the chief office, and receive them back once a week to enter in my stock-book. I did not receive them for three weeks or a month. Childs said the last time I took them to do up that he had not time, and I left them for him to do. After he was dismissed I took my book back to Kensing-ton, and he had made the entries in pencil, which I inked over. I knew nothing of the erasures.

GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-327
VerdictMiscellaneous > no agreement

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327. WALTER HIGGINS (18) and WILLIAM JONES (20) , Stealing on 20th November, two bottles of oil of peppermint, on 10th January four bottles and other goods, and on 24th January eight bottles of liquid perfume.

MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. THORNE COLE Defended.

The Jury being unable to agree were discharged without a verdict, and the trial was postponed.

OLD COURT.—Friday, March 3 rd, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-328
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Miscellaneous > no agreement
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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328. THOMAS GALLIERS (20) and JAMES CASEY (20), were indicted for the wilful murder of Frederick James Wilmore.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN defended Galliers and MR. WILLES defended Casey.

ARTHUR THOMPSON . I live at 15, Oakland Street, Kennington Road, and am a joiner—on the Sunday before Christmas Day, about 10 o'clock at night, I was on the Thames Embankment, between Waterloo Bridge and Blackfriars, with another lad named Wilmore, near the Temple Gardens—I had been in his company once before; we were walking by ourselves—there was somebody in front; as we were walking along two lads came up and spoke to us—they said "Do you know any one from the City Road?"—Wilmore said "No"—they said" We come from Lambeth; we hold with Lambeth, do you?"—Wilmore said" Yes"—they said "We want to pay the City Road boys if we can catch them; you say you come from Lambeth; what do you use when you fight?"—Wilmore said "We use our fists," and then they said "Do you use any of these?" and showed us a belt—Wilmore said "No," and lifted up his waistcoat, and they said "You say you come from Lambeth; we don't come from Lambeth, we come from the City Road, and we are going to pay the Lambeth chaps"—then the one that had had all the conversation called up the gang—he said "Here are two of the Lambeth lads, thrash them," and then the one that was by the side of the one who had had all the conversation struck Wilmore on the nose with his fist; the gang then

came up and started thrashing us with their belts—I think there were about 20 in the gang—Casey is one of the two who first came up to us, and the one who had all the conversation, but not the one who struck the blow—I was about a yard from them when we were having the conversa-tion; we were in front of each other, face to face—Casey had a belt; he took it out of his pocket after he said a few words; it had a large square brass buckle on it; it was very much like this (produced)—I did not see him do anything with it—the gang started thrashing me with their belts, and pulled off my hat—all that I could see had belts except the one that struck Wilmore on the nose—I was knocked down, but I got up again—my head was cut at the back, and I was bruised down the back—I saw Wilmore struck and knocked down; he was struck with the fist; nothing else that I saw—I saw the others make for him with their belts, but I could not see whether they hit him or not; the best part of them made for him—I saw him on the ground, and I ran into the road and called out for help—a gentleman came across the road to me—I did not see what he did; he went to the side of Wilmore, who was bleeding from the head; blood was running down on to the pavement—when the gentleman came across the gang ran away—I lost my hat; it was similar to the one I have now, flat on the top—Wilmore also lost his hat; the same sort as this—the best part of the gang had gone away when the gentleman came up—Wilmore fell into Casey's arms when the other one punched him on the nose, and Casey dropped him—two lads remained there after the gang ran away—I can't say whether they were two of the gang—I saw nothing in their hands; one of them asked for a handkerchief, and while asking for it a Hansom cab came up; one of them called the cab, and said "Do take them to the hospital; they have got the fare?"—the cab stopped, and the two lads put Wilmore in the cab; I got in as well, and the two lads also—I asked some young lady that was standing by for my hat—she said "I can't see your hat; get in the cab"—the gentleman walked away then—that was the only cab I saw—no cab had come up and gone away refusing to take us—I did not see any one at the horse's head—no one told the cabman where to drive; he drove us to Charing Cross Hospital—we all four went in there—the surgeon saw us—nobody paid the cabman—the two lads said they lived close by the meat market—at the hospital I heard Wilmore's name—I did not know it before; I only knew him by the name of Fred—I did not know where he lived—my head was dressed—Wilmore was detained at the hospital; I went to his house with his scarf—he told them at the hospital where he lived, and I went and told his sister that he was there; that was between 10 and 11 o'clock; then I went home—I afterwards saw Galliers when he was in custody, but did not recognise him—I saw Casey in custody in the beginning of February at Bow Street Police-station—a good many people were standing in a row, and I pointed Casey out as the man who had the conversation with us and who took the belt out of his pocket—I have no doubt about him—I had never seen him before that Sunday—I saw nothing in the possession of these people except belts—I saw no knife or file or anything of that kind.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. This happened on the Embankment, close to an archway by the side of the river, close by the Temple Pier—it was rather dark, not very dark, because there were lights there—I can't say whether I said "very dark" at the police-court—the lad who

struck Wilmore was standing in front of us—when I ran and shouted for help I went towards Blackfriars—I crossed the road by the railings of the Temple Gardens, and met the gentleman there—when I got back the two lads were standing by Wilmore—the young lady was standing looking on—I can't say whether there were two or three ladies—I did not see a woman selling chestnuts—I was not there above two or three minutes before we got into the cab—one of the two lads hailed the cab—a policeman came to me to go to Bow Street—he told me that I had to come up to give evidence—he did not tell me I was going to see the man who was in custody for the Embankment murder; they had no one in custody at that time—when I went and identified Casey Inspector O'Callaghan said they had a lad in custody for it, and he said "If you see any one you can recognise you must pick them out. "

Re-examined. I recognised Casey after about a minute—there were about a dozen men there.

JOHN O'CALLAGHAN (Police Inspector E). On 5th January, about 2 o'clock in the day, I went to Charing Cross Hospital, and there saw Frederick James Wilmore in the presence of the house surgeon, Dr. Cray—he made a statement to me, which I took down in writing—I read it over to him, and he signed it—he was quite conscious at that time—this is the statement (produced)—I left it with Dr. Cray—I heard that he died on 14th January—I made inquiries about this attack on the Embankment—on Monday morning, 30th Jauuary, about 8.45, I went to the workshop of Mr. Benjamin, in Henrietta Street, City Road—I knew that Galliers had been at work there—the shop was then closed—I went several times—about 9.45 I saw Galliers standing in the doorway of some model buildings next to the shop—I went up to him and said "Are you in Benjamin's employment?"—he said" Yes, I am waiting for him to open the shop"—I said "I am a police officer, and I want to ask you some questions; do you remember the Sunday before Christmas?"—he said "Yes"—I said" Where were you on that Sunday at about 10 o'clock in the evening?"—he said "Early in the evening I was in Old Street with Sarah Williams and Dickey Hustwith; after I left them I went to a coffee-shop in Old Street, on this side of the Curtain Road"—I said "Were you alone there?"—he said "Yes, I go there every Sunday; after I left there I went home"—I said "On that evening two lads were assaulted"—he interrupted me and said "Yes, I read it in the paper yesterday, and Mr. Benjamin and I were talking about it at breakfast this morning"—at that time Benjamin came up, and I went into the shop with him, leaving Galliers outside—I had some conversa-tion with Benjamin, and then returned to where Galliers was standing with Constable Compton and a sergeant—Benjamin followed, and he asked Galliers for his father's address, so that he might inform him, and he said "We were only talking about it at breakfast this morning"—Galliers said "Yes, and you asked me if I was in it"—I then said to Galliers "I am informed that you were there, and that you struck the blow; I will have to take you to the police-station for inquiry"—he said" No, I was not"—I then took him to his lodging, 45, Cowper Street, City Road, and then to Hoxton Police-station—there he was placed among seven or eight others of the same age and description as near as possible—that was some hours afterwards, about 2 o'clock—the witness Thompson was brought to see the whole of them—he failed to recognise

any of them—I saw Galliers afterwards the same day—he was still detained at the station—I said to him "Let me see how your trousers are fastened or secured"—he said "I usually have a string round them; this morning I left it at home"—I saw that he had neither belt, braces, or string to secure them—I then went to 39, Henry Street, Peutonville, where Culver, the prisoner's stepfather, lived—in the meantime I had seen Thomas Parker, and I went there from what he said about 7 p.m.—I had some conversation with him, and after some hesitation he gave up to me this belt—on the outside of it there is the representation of a gate, and the initials "T. S.," with a flag on each side of the gate—it is the sort of belt that is sometimes used for fastening public-house doors back—it is not the sort of belt used for fastening up trousers; it might be used for such a purpose—next day I took Galliers before the Magistrate—there was a remand to 7th February—about 6 o'clock on the morning of 2nd February I went to Mr. Barrett's, a biscuit factory, in Shepherdess Walk, City Road—I there saw Casey; he was employed there as a stoker—I asked him his name—he said "Casey"—I said "Come this way," taking him aside; "I want to speak to you; you have heard of two young lads having been assaulted on the Embankment the Sunday before Christmas, and that one of them is dead?" he said "Yes, I have heard of it, but I was not there"—I said "Where were you on that Sunday at about 10 in the evening?" he said "On Holborn Viaduct with two young women"—I said "Who are they?" he said "I don't know their names, but I think one was Mary Ann Sullivan; I don't know where they live, and a young fellow named Adam White was with us"—I said "Where does White live?" he said "I don't know exactly, but I know him"—I then said "I have been told that you were there, and you will have to come to the police-station"—while he was dressing himself and putting on his coat he said "I don't deny that I know the young fellow you have taken; it is strange that people cannot get into trouble without wanting to bring others into it as well"—I then took him to Bow Street Police-station—I put him with eight or nine young men of the same age and dress as nearly as possible—I took Thompson there; he looked up and down the line of lads, he then turned round and looked towards me—I said "If you know any of them put your hand on them"—he then went and touched the prisoner Casey on the shoulder; that was all that passed—Casey was taken before the Magistrate that day, and he was after-wards brought up on the 7th with Galliers—I know Patrick Kennedy, who was in custody at Worship Street—I took Thompson to see him, and he failed to recognise him—the prisoners were committed for trial on 14th February—on the 23rd I went to the House of Detention with Mr. Eldridge, a clerk to the Solicitor of the Treasury—Casey was brought into the waiting-room—Mr. Eldridge said to him "Casey, I understand you desire to make a statement;" he said "Yes"—Mr. Eldridge said "We will ask you nothing, you can say what you wish, it will be taken down in writing, and you will have to sign it;" he said "Yes, I do want to make a statement to clear myself"—he then made a statement which Mr. Eldridge took down in writing at the time, without being asked questions—it was then read over to him, and he was asked if it was correct; he said "Yes," and signed each sheet and signed it at the end, and I witnessed it—this is the statement—Casey gave the address of 12, Galloway Street, City Road, where he was taken into custody; that is

about a quarter of an hour's walk from where Galliers lives. (The statement was then read as follows:—"I was at the corner of Pitfield Street, Hoxton, on Sunday before Christmas. About a dozen or sixteen chaps came up to me, and asked me if I would go down the Embank-ment; I said 'No, I have got to get up to work to morrow morning early to make a good week.' They said Don't;' I said 'No, I'm not coming.' They went on towards Type Street, Bunhill Row. I thought about taking a walk round this street. It was about 8 o'clock when they first spoke to me. I took a good walk round by myself, thinking about going home, but I saw Adam White and Mary Ann Sullivan and another young girl just down by Type Street. They said 'Are you going for a walk?' I said 'No, I think I will go home.' We were walking along, and got as far as the Holborn Viaduct. We went up Holborn, and down one of the turnings which led us into Fleet Street, just by where the archway (Temple Bar) used to be. We took a little walk along, about two or three minutes, and then went down one of the turnings on the left hand side of Fleet Street, down some steps which led us on to the Embankment. We crossed the road on the Embankment to the river side. We saw a young chap lying down on the footway. We said to a chestnut woman there who was selling chestnuts 'Who did it?' She said 'A gang of chaps.' She said 'I wouldn't go up there too far if I was you.' I said 'No, unless I get an unlucky blow.' I said 'Are you coming home, Adam?' The two girls said 'Yes.' We got on to the corner of the kerb; stepping into the road, I halloed out 'Why don't you put him into a cab?' One cab was going along in the road. I halloed out 'Take this man to the hospital.' I said 'He has hurt himself, he is bleeding.' The cabman said 'Not me,' and drove on, and halloed out something like 'He will make my carriage in a mess.' There was another cab just behind it, so I said to the cabman 'Take this man to the hospital,' and ran to the head of the horse with the intention of getting hold of the horse, but the cabman drove close into the kerb against the water, and two young chaps picked the one up that was bleeding. I believe that the one who picked the man up who was bleeding was Jack Evans, better known as Toffey, and a chap they call Jack the Sailor. I put my hand at the back of the wounded chap, and Jack Evans and Jack the Sailor got into the cab, and another boy as well, and we got the wounded man into the cab. The cabman drove off with four of them in it. I shouted out 'Take him to the nearest hospital.' I then walked across the road with the intention of going home. The chestnut woman followed us across and said to us 'I will take good care I don't stay out after 9 or half-past of a night if there is going to be this every Sunday night.' I said 'The people who did it ought to get punished.' We then went up the steps into Fleet Street and got down to Temple Bar, and the chestnut woman said 'Good night,' and we all said 'Good night,' and we saw no more of her after she got across the road. We went towards home, and I left them in Old Street. I went home up Bath Street; I went indoors, and got into bed. This was about a quarter to 11. On the next night (Monday), about half-past 8, I went into Pitfield Street, and I heard two or three of them talking about the Thames Embankment. I said 'Some of you will catch it before long.' Joe Plenty, living in a muffin-shop at the corner of a court in Noble Street, had a bit of string with blood on it; he said 'That's the way we

carry the blood about.' I said 'You ought to be caught with the string.' He laughed, and said 'You go to b——,' so I said 'Ah. you will cop it before long, all of you.' I then went home again. This was about a quarter-past 11. I heard no more of it until just a little before I was taken into custody (the day before) Tom Barrett asked me if I knew anything about it. I said 'No, I wasn't there,' so he said 'They have got one of your blokes.' I said 'They can have a lot more if they like, they can't touch me; what are they going to touch me for? I have done nothing.' Tom Barrett said 'Oh, you will be the next one.' I said 'When I have done anything I will be the next one.' I laughed at him, and walked away. I turned back again, and he said 'You know who done it, don't you? You must know who done it.' I said 'From what I have heard it was Joe Rayner who did it (he is a clockmaker working for his father down Lever Street, opposite Nelson Street). Patrick Kennedy, I heard, knocked him down with a file, and Joe Plenty and Joe Rayner were the two who spoke to the two chaps on the Embank-ment first. I heard no more about it till the Tuesday that we were fully committed for trial. I said to Galliers while we were in the cell at Bow Street, when my sister and Tom Barrett's wife and another young woman who lodges with my sister were present, 'Who did it?' He said 'I believe Patrick Kennedy knocked him down with a file.' I said 'Who gave you the hat?' He said 'Patrick Kennedy.' I said 'Whose hat was it?' he said 'I believe the chap's hat who we knocked about.' I said 'Is that the hat?' so he said 'No, I tore that up.' He said 'There was blood in it.' I said 'Oh, you must have been there; why didn't you say so, and let the innocent free? He said 'I am not going to say so to get myself knocked about if I get out of it.' He then told me that Joe Rayner had a big buckle with a piece of string tiod to it, and he knocked the chap down, and Joe Plenty spoke to him before he was knocked down, then Joe Plenty called the gang over. I said 'Oh, what did they do when they came over?' He said 'Oh, they all knocked him about then.' He said 'You lay it all on to me.' I said 'I can't lay it on to myself because I was not there.' He said 'Ah, you'll get off.' I said 'I don't know.' We were then taken off in the police van. There was Patrick Kennedy, Joe Rayner, Thomas Galliers (the prisoner), Ben Oakley and Bill Oakley, Joe Plenty, and others among the gang that spoke to me in Pitfield Street about going on to the Embankment I told my sister to go to Mr. Barrett, and ask him to write to the inspector that I wanted to see him to make this statement I have now made to show that I am innocent.—(Signed) J. Casey. Witness, J. O'Callaghan, Inspector. ")

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was in this Court on Saturday morning, between 10 and 11, and saw a number of men being tried for a riot at Hackney—among them was Patrick Kennedy—he was the man that I took Thompson to Worship Street to identify—Kennedy was at liberty on the night of 18th December—Sarah Williams, a witness in this prosecution, made a communication to me at 2 o'clock on the date of Galliers'a arrest—Galliers was actually charged at 10 o'clock at night on 30th January—I detained him from 10 in the morning till 10 at night, and then charged him—at that time I had heard about the statement of Sarah Williams and the statement about the belt—I had him in custody after I had recovered the bolt—I was examined the day following at the

police-court—I have instructions to make a note of any conversation I have with a prisoner, and I made a note on the same day, not at the very time—I had it with me at the police-court—I have it with me now—it does not take the whole of the conversation—I think I said at the police-court that Galliers stated it was in the evening, or early in the evening, that he was with Sarah Williams and Hustwith—I won't say positively whether he said early or simply in the evening—Curtain Road is, perhaps, 21/2 miles from the Thames Embankment, and about 11/2 miles from the coffee-shop which I understood him to allude to—I believe there is a man named Joe Plenty—I did not take Thompson to see if he could identify Plenty or Joe Rayner—in not doing so I was acting under the instructions of the Solicitor for the Treasury—I took no action on Casey's statement as to arresting anybody, or taking Thompson to see them—I was told to take no action till I got instructions—I know there is a Lever Street, St. Luke's—I have heard of Joe Rayner, and I believe there is such a person—I don't know the Oakleys—I have made no inquiry about them—I have seen Hustwith.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I believe I told Casey that I was a police officer when I saw him at the manufactory, but can't say positively—I didn't make a note of the conversation at the time, I did subsequently, the same day—he said he did not know the names of the two girls, but he afterwards qualified that by saying that one was Mary Ann Sullivan—I said at the police-court that what he stated was 'I was on Holborn Viaduct with two girls; I don't know where they live, one is named Sullivan"—I say that now—what he said at first was that he did not know their names, and then he said "I think one was Mary Ann Sullivan"—Thompson was in the room perhaps a minute or two before he identified Casey; he looked down the line and up again, then he passed and turned round towards me—Casey was told to place himself wherever he pleased; I think he was in the centre of them, more towards the right—when Thompson was brought in the line was formed; he stood right oppo-site the centre of the line—I told him to put his hand on anybody he knew—I did not tell him to look at them very hard.

By the COURT. Thompson said he could only identify one out of the whole gang—I proposed arresting two of them for identification, but I was told not to do so till I had received instructions.

THOMAS PARKER . I am 14 years old, and live with my father at 7, Henrietta Street, Shoreditch—I know Galliers by sight, he works for Mr. Benjamin—on a Monday morning he gave me this belt opposite a door outside Mr. Benjamin's shop about 9.30 or 10 o'clock; he asked me if I would mind putting his belt in my house till his governor, Mr. Benjamin, came—he took it out of his coat pocket—after that I saw Mr. Benjamin come; I told him I had got it, and he sent his stepfather for it, and I gave it to him.

By the COURT. I only know Galliers by sight as working for Mr. Benjamin—he was not a friend of mine.

RICHARD CULVER . I am a jeweller, of 39, Henry Street, Pentonville, and am Galliers's stepfather—I received a belt from the boy Parker out-side Mr. Benjamin's shop, between 1 and 2 o'clock, and gave it to Inspector O'Callaghan the same day I received it, 30th January, about 8 or 9 o'clock in the evening.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was in the habit of seeing

Galliers every Sunday from 18th December to 30th January—I believe he was always very steady at his work during that time—I did not know him by the name of Scott at all.

SARAH WILLIAMS . I live at 12, A Block, Hensons Buildings, Henrietta Street—on Sunday, 18th December, I was keeping company with a young man named Dick Hustwith—I went for a walk with him that night about 7 o'clock, and met Galliers, whom I know by the name of Thomas Scott—I have known him a good while; he was working for Mr. Benjamin, in Henrietta Street—I only know Casey by sight—on this Sunday I met Galliers in Old Street, and he, I, and Hustwith went round the City Road for a walk—we went to a beershop at the corner of Peerless Street, just opposite Dawson's, in the City Road—I left Galliers about 9 o'clock or a little after, in Old Street, with Hustwith, and I went away—I saw no more of Galliers that night—about 5 or 10 minutes after I left them, I saw Hust-with again; he was standing by the stairs at a lodging waiting for me—the next night I was at the Variety Theatre, Pitfield Street, with Hustwith and another girl—I saw Galliers there; he said to Hustwith "Duck did you hear about the fight on the Embankment last night; "Hustwith said "No;" Galliers said "We all went over the Embankment last night, and met some of the City lads, aud they interfered with us, aud we inter-fered with them; there was a fight, and one of the lads was taken off to the hospital; it was none of the Green Gate lads that did it, but it was 20 of the Fann Street lads;" and he knew the two that did it—I saw Inspector O'Callaghan on the Monday and made this statement to him; it is true.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. It was on the 30th January that the inspector saw me—on the day Galliers was taken—I had not men-tioned it before—the Variety Theatre is a music-hall where there are two entertainments in the night; people go in at 6 and come out at 8 o'clock, and then a fresh lot go in; the price is 2d. to the gallery—it was 9 o'clock at night when I went there with Hustwith; the performance was going on when we went, I was sitting down in the gallery in the middle; the performance was going on—it was Margaret Mahoney who was with us—I told Inspector O'Callaghan her name; I don't recollect telling him where she lived; she used to live in Whitecross Street, but has moved from there now—there was no one else with us—I was next to Hustwith, and Mahoney was sitting by the side of me; Galliers was on the other side of Hustwith, Hustwith was between me and Galliers—there was a song being sung at the time—people don't smoke there; it is rather a noisy place—I heard no other conversation, this was the first thing he said; he had been sitting down for a few minutes—I can read a little and write a little—the last person I saw Galliers with on the Sunday night, was Hustwith—it was about a quarter past 9 when I left him, not later, because it was about 9.30 when I reached Dicky Hustwith's sister's—Hustwith was with me then—I left the two talking together, went up-stairs and came down, and found my young man waiting for me, and we went to his sister's—it was 9.30 or 20 minutes to 10 when we got there—I know that because she went out and got some beer, and she said "You are late coming"—she lives up Hoxton, about 10 minutes' or a quarter of an hour's walk from me—I saw Hustwith last night.

GEORGE JONES . I am 16 on 9th May, and live at 33, York Road, City Road—I am employed at Mr. Barrett's, the biscuit-baker in Shepherdess

Walk—I know Casey, he was employed at the same place as a stoker—I know Galliers, I have seen him once or twice—I have not seen the two in company together—Casey's regular time for coming was 6 o'clock—I did not see him come on the Wednesday, I saw him talking to Mr. Thomas Barrett—I remember Mr. Thomas Barrett coming into the shop and saying to Casey "I heard say somebody had been after you;" he said "They have not to come after me for nothing; what have they got to come after me for?"—Barrett said "I think it is about the Embank-ment affair"—Casey said "I had nothing to do with the Embankment affair; I was going along the Embankment and I saw a young man lying on the pavement; I picked him up, stopped a cab, and put him inside; the first cab would not take him, another cab came up, and I put him inside; a young man jumped inside with him"—that was all.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. He said a young gentleman went in the cab with him—I did not see the police at all.

THOMAS WILLIAM BARRETT . I live at 75, Provost Street, City Road, and am in the employ of Barrett and Co., Shepherdess Walk, sugar bakers—Casey was employed at that place—I know Galliers by sight; I have seen him outside our works waiting for the lads—about a day or so before Casey was taken into custody, I don't know the exact day, I asked him whether he was there among the mob on the Thames Em-bankment the night of the murder—he said "No"—I said "I believe they have got one of your pals for it"—I began by saying to him "You have done a fine thing for yourself; you will be the next one"—he laughed, and said he had nothing to do with it—I said "What a shame it was for a lot of them to set about a man with a belt"—he said he was not there; he did not know nothing about it—after a little while he told me it was not a belt that did it—he said he was not there till the man had been bleeding about 20 minutes—after talking to him awhile he said "It was not a belt that did it, it was a file, and Patsy Kennedy is the man that did it"—I believe he said it was a three-cornered file that did it—he said all he had to do with it was to go up to the cabman's horse and stop it—he said he hailed a cab—the first one said it would make his cab in a mess, and he stopped the cab and held the horse's head, and then of course he put the boy in the cab and took him to the hospital, but he did not go with him—he said nothing more about Kennedy—he said "The one that done it is in stur now for stabbing a man at Hackney.

ISABELLA MULLOCK . I live at 14, Philip Street, Kingsland Road, and am a box maker—I was at Thames Street Police-court last Tuesday week—I was in the passage, and saw the two prisoners after they were committed for trial—Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Barrett were also present—Casey, turning towards Galliers, and holding up his fist, said "You know who done it, and if you don't tell I will make you tell"—Galliers said "Joe Rayner and Joe Plenty were the two that spoke to the two gentlemen on the Embankment; Kennedy struck the blow," but he did not say what blow—Casey said "Is that the same hat you have got on now that you had on then?"—Galliers said "No, I lost my hat, and they found me a hat; they picked me a hat up from the ground, and when I got into the light I saw blood on it and I destroyed it, and went home without a hat. "

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not speak to the police

about this—the police spoke to me last Friday week; I did not go to them—I mind Casey's sister's children for her; I don't live with her—I only know her by staying in the house where we used to live; that was just on a year and a half—I went with her to Bow Street because Casey is a friend of mine—it was Inspector O'Callaghan who came to me on the Friday—I repeated to him what I have stated to-day—I mentioned the names of Joe Rayner and Joe Plenty—nobody but Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Barrett were standing by when I heard thin conversation with Casey—I went out to fetch some tea and coffee—I did not speak at all; I only heard what they were saying together.

ELLEN BARRETT . I am the wife of Thomas Barrett, of 65, Provost Street—I was at Bow Street Police-court the day the prisoners were committed for trial—after the committal I went into the passage where the cells are with Casey's sister and the other woman—I don't know who she was; I never saw her before—I went there with Casey's sister to take him some food—Casey and Galliers were together—the sister said to Casey "For God's sake, Jem, speak the truth"—he said "I have spoken the truth; I am innocent of this"—he called to Galliers and said" Long 'un, was I there?"—he said" No"—I did not know Galliers's name—Casey turned round and said he wished he had taken his father's advice 18 months ago, and he should not have been brought into this—I turned round to Galliers and said "Who done it?" he said "Patsy Kennedy"—I did not hear anything more—he mentioned two other boys' names, but I don't remember their names—Casey was talking to his sister at the time—a young woman came up with the tea and I came away—I am not related to Casey; I am not acquainted with the sister—I only went down to Bow Street to hear the case, and she asked me to go with her into the cell—I am the wife of Thomas William Barrett where Casey was employed—that was how I was interested in the case.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I had seen Casey once before outside the firm, and he said "Good night;" that was all—I did not know that he was employed by my husband—my husband is not the proprietor of the establishment—he did not tell me that he had a fellow-workman named Casey—I did not know that he was in the employment till his sister told me—I did not go to the police-court with her; I went by myself; she asked me to go with her to the cells—I did not hear the whole conversation between her and her brother or between Galliers and Casey—I could not hear distinctly.

ANNIE LEE . I live at 41, Bridport Place, Hoxton—I am Casey's sister—after the prisoners were committed I was at Bow Street and saw them there—Mrs. Barrett and Mrs. Mullock were with me—in Galliers's presence I asked Casey whether he was innocent—he said" Yes"—I said" If you are innocent why don't you speak the truth?" and I said to Galliers" You know who they were"—Galliers said" The one that did it is in prison; there were two more in it. Joe Plenty and Joe Rayner, "Casey said to him "Is that your hat?"—Galliers said" No, I lost mine in the scuffle; when I got to the light I saw there was blood on it, and I destroyed it"—that was all I heard—the police came to me last Tuesday.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not tell them then what I have told now—I told them nothing then, not till just now when

O'Callaghan called me into the room, just this minute—my brother has been waiting his trial from 14th February—I have never visited him during that time, only on the Tuesday when he was up at Bow Street—I did not go to see him in prison; I could not—I asked the police on Tuesday what they wanted me up for, and I said I could not come because I have a place to look after and three little children to mind—I got a person to-day to mind my place while I came here, and a gentleman sent me a paper, and I was forced to come—I did not tell him about the conversation with Galliers—I did not know that my brother had made a statement in prison—I only know Mrs. Barrett from that day, Tuesday—I know her husband—I knew that my brother had sent for Inspector O'Callaghan in prison—I can't say that I inquired why he had sent for him—I sent my brother his food while in prison by Isabella Mullock, a friend who had lived in the same house with me eighteen months—she told me that O'Callaghan had been sent for—I asked her what he had sent for him for—she said he was going to tell the truth; I said "I hope he will"—I did not make any further inquiries.

CHARLES ROBINSON CRAY . I am a M. R. C. S. and house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—on Sunday night, 18th December, the lad Wilmore was brought there—I saw him on Monday morning, the 19th, a little after 1—I examined him, and found two wounds at the back of his head almost parallel to each other, one rather larger than the other, the one on the right extending as far as the bone; the bone was fissured; that might be a very severe injury; the other one was similar, but not so deep—I could hardly tell whether he had lost much blood—there were no other marks of violence upon him but those two wounds; the edges were rather irregular; I should think it quite possible that they might have been inflicted by the buckle end of this belt being swung round and hitting him on the head; it is quite probable—I do not think that either of those wounds were inflicted with a clean cut with a knife—they were not such wounds as I should expect to find if a knife had been used—they were about two or three inches apart—they could not have been caused by a single blow; I think there were two separate blows—I con-tinued to attend him, and on 5th January this statement was taken from him—I was present when it was taken down by Inspector O'Callaghan, and I witnessed it—he was quite conscious at the time he made it and in a fit condition to give a narration of what had occurred—it was a state-ment of his own, not in answer to questions; it was read over to him and he signed it; at that time he was not in a dying state—the statement was left with me—on Wednesday, 11 th January, he had become very much worse; he was then in my judgment in immediate danger of death—I told him that there was no longer any hope of his recovery, or words to that effect—he said he was sorry to hear that, and said "Then you think I am a dead man?"—I said "I am sorry to say that that is true"—he said no more that I remember—I then read over the statement to him.

By the COURT. His manner and demeanour were such as to convince me that he believed he was dying—it was my firm opinion that he was sincere in that belief—his sister came frequently to see him; she had not been specially sent for—I said to him, "I am about to read over the statement that you made a little while ago." and I did so—he was quite conscious at the time—he said "It is quite true; I have not told any lies about it"—I then made this memorandum on it: "Read over to the

patient at 11.45 a. m., January 11th, 1882, having previously informed him that he was in immediate danger of death," and then he signed it—he did not rally after that; he continued to get worse; he became un-conscious on Saturday morning, the 14th, and died about 20 minutes past 9 in the evening—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—in my judgment he died from the injuries to the head, from blood poisoning arising from those injuries—the skull was fractured at the back just beneath the right wound; that was the more serious wound, which had penetrated the bone.

The statement of the deceased was then read as follows: " About a quarter to 10 on Sunday evening, 18th December, 1881, I and another young man, a stranger to me, were walking together along the Embankment near the Temple Gardens, when two young men came up to us. One asked where we belonged to. I said 'Lambeth.' He said 'I come from the City Road.' He then called out to a number of his companions, who were standing outside, 'Here are two Lambeth lads; pay them.' One then struck me with a belt with a buckle on it, and another stabbed me on the head with a knife. There were twenty or thirty of them in all. When I was struck I fell down on the pavement, and remember nothing more until I found myself in the hospital. It was the two men who first spoke to us that assaulted me—they were about 18 years of age, and were dressed as working lads. "

CECIL RUPERT JAYWORTH LISTER . I am house physician at Charing Cross Hospital—I was there on Sunday night, 18th December, when Wilmore was brought there at 10 o'clock—he had been injured in the head in two places—it was a surgical case, and I sent him up to the surgical ward immediately—the witness Thompson was in the accident room when I was called to see Wilmore—he also had a lacerated wound on his head at the back of the scale, not exposing the bone—it was a wound that a buckle, a stick, or almost anything might have done—I dressed it, and he left the hospital.

JOHN O'CALLAGHAN (Re-examined). The Coroner's inquest was over on the Wednesday prior to Galliers's arrest, the 25th or 26th—there is a public-house called the Green Gate in the City Road near the Grecian Theatre; I don't know the landlord's name.

ELIZABETH ANN KING . I am the wife of George King, and sister of the deceased, Frederick James Wilmore—he was a carman, and 19 years of age—on Sunday, 18th December, he was living at 5, York Street, York Road, Lambeth—I saw him on the Sunday night—he left my house to go out.

REBECCA JANE WILMORE . I lived with my brother, Frederick James Wilmore, at 5, York Street, Lambeth—on Sunday night, 18th December, I was out with him—we went to the Thames Embankment—we got there between 9 and 10 o'clock—we were walking towards Blackfriars Bridge on the river side—I was in front with a young man, a friend of mine—my brother was behind—after we had gone some way between 20 and 30 men passed us, coming from Lambeth—before passing us they spoke to three gentlemen about slapping their faces—the gentlemen went on, and the men passed us—they did nothing to me; they were walking along, talking rather loudly—my brother was a few yards behind me, I could not say exactly how far—I walked on towards Blackfriars Bridge—I heard my brother halloa out, "Hold on"—I turned round, but could

not see him—we waited for him at the top of Blackfriars Bridge about half an hour, and finding he did not come went home—the next I heard of him was when Thompson came and told me he was in the hospital—I had not known Thompson till that night—he was behind with my brother—we met him in Villiers Street with Jack Payne.

The following witnesses were called for Casey:

ADAM WHITE . I am a packer, and live at 12, Chatham Gardens, Hoxton—I know the prisoner James Casey—on Sunday night, December 18th, I saw him at the top of Type Street, Chiswell Street, just after 9 o'clock—two young girls were with me, Lizzie Hammond and Mary Ann Sullivan—Casey came up as we were standing there—he said, "Will you come for a walk?" and the four of us went straight down Chiswell Street to the Meat Market, through Chancery Lane, and brought us out by the Strand; I could not tell you the name, we went down a turning which brought us out by the Embankment—we went down some steps somewhere near the Temple Station—when we got down to the bottom of the steps just across the road we saw a crowd—I said to Hammond, "Let us come across the road and see what's up"—we saw the deceased lying down on the footpath bleeding, holding his hand up to his head—I said to him, "Who done this?"—he said," Some lads from the City Road," whereupon Lizzie Hammond called Mary Ann Sullivan and Casey across—presently a Hansom cab comes by—we all stopped there—a young woman with some chestnuts came about two yards off—some conversation took place between Sullivan and her; I did not hear it—Casey halloed out for the cab to stop—the cabman did not like to stop at first; he drove on a little way, and I got hold of the reins to stop the horse—I told him to stop, and I think Casey told him to stop, that the young man had money to pay for it—with that Casey and another young man helped the deceased into the cab—two young chaps, strangers, got into the cab with him—another young chap came running up and said," I want to get into the cab too, I am hurt"—his head was bleeding at the back—he was with the deceased when we first went over—he got into the cab, and it went off with the four young men, leaving Casey and me and the two young women standing on the Embankment, and the chestnut woman—she said," I have to get my living on here," and she told us not to go up any farther, and with that we went up the steps and went the same way home—we left the chestnut woman just at the top of the steps—Casey went back home with us.

Cross-examined. I have been living at 12, Chatham Gardens for nine years with my mother and father—he is a porter in the City—I am not in employment just at present—I was in employment in a warehouse at 10, Fore Street, Messrs. Pitman and Oliver's, close on twelve months—I lost my situation about three weeks ago, by going up to Bow Street—Casey's father told me to go to Bow Street, but I was not called as a witness—I did not see the solicitor defending Casey—I was in Court when the in-quiry was going on—Sullivan and Hammond went with me—I only went once; and when I went to my situation next morning they asked where I had been, I said to Bow Street, and they said" We have got somebody in your place"—I have known Casey about six months—I never used to be with him; I knew him by passing him now and again and speaking to him—I did not know where he lived; I knew where he worked—I had never been out with him before—I had known Sullivan

and Hammond about twelve months—I had been out with them about an hour before Casey joined us; he came up to us in the street and spoke to us—I have no means of fixing the time, it was just after 9 o'clock, as near as possible, between 9 and 10 o'clock—I can't recollect whether we went over the Viaduct, it brought us out opposite Charles Meeking's, just at the end of the Viaduct—we then went down Chancery Lane, down a street on the left, and down the steps on to the Embankment—we got there as near 10 o'clock as possible—I had often been there before on a Sunday evening—the crowd we saw consisted of about eight or nine—I only saw one cab, a Hansom—I do not know a gang called the Green. Gate gang, or the City Road gang—I have heard that there is such a gang—I do not know Galliers at all—I saw him at Bow Street—I might have seen him before, living round there, but not to speak to him—I did not know him by any name—I never go by any nickname.

Re-examined. Casey knew the two young women who were with me—I have spoken to him when I have seen him in the street.

By the COURT. I know a little beershop called the British Queen, in Whitecross Street—I never use it—I can't tell whether I have ever been there or not, I don't recollect—yes, I was in there last Saturday night for the first time, I forgot for the moment, I went there for half a pint of ale—I did not see anybody there that I know of—I know Hustwith, I have spoken to him when I have seen him with Sarah Williams—I did not see him on that Sunday night—my account of this matter was never written down by anybody—I never told anybody what I was going to say to-day; nobody asked me what I was going to say—I heard this morning that Casey had made a statement in prison—a gentleman brought a paper up in Court here—I could tell the gentle-man if he was in Court; it was nobody that I had ever seen before—it was a blue paper that he had; he read it to me—it corresponded with what I have said to-day—he did not tell me it was what Casey had said in prison—he came out and called the names of three of us, me, Mary Ann Sullivan, and Lizzie Hammond, and he read the paper to us—I forget what he said; I think he said it was a statement made by Casey while in gaol; he did not read it all through, he read the time he met us till we put the boy in the cab and went home—up to that time I had not made any statement at all to anybody, nor been asked to do so—we went to Bow Street thinking we should be called—I saw Casey's father there—I think he had a lawyer—he did not tell me what to say—this is the first time I have made any statement—Casey's father asked me what I could say; I did not tell him; I said what I could tell was the truth—the gentleman who read the paper to us this morning wrote our names at the back, that was all he wrote—I told my mother and I told Casey's father that I was with Casey on this night, and that he helped to put the young man in the cab.

By MR. POLAND. I had seen Casey once or twice between the Sunday and the time he was taken into custody—I could not tell you where—I have not walked with him, he has passed me—I did not talk with him about the affair on the Embankment—I did not know that the young man I saw bleeding on the Embankment was dead till I read it in the papers—I had no conversation with Casey after that—I heard that Casey was in custody on the Friday morning—I do not know Jack

Evans, or Toffy, or Jack the Sailor, or Joe Plenty, or Joe Rayner, or Patrick Kennedy, or Ben or Bill Oakley.

Re-examined. That is the gentleman I saw this morning (the prisoner Casey's solicitor)—I never saw him before—he wrote our names down in pencil on the back of a piece of white paper—Casey's father brought the blue paper to me—this is it (produced)—Casey's father is a cripple.

MARY ANN SULLIVAN . I live at 6, Bute Street, Pitfield Street—I know Casey by sight, being round Pitfield Street for seven or eight weeks—I work at envelope folding—on the Sunday night before Christmas I was with Adam White standing at the top of Type Street with Lizzie Ham-mond—Casey came up and we asked him to come for a walk; that was about half-past 8 or 9; I can't be sure—he said he did not care about going for a walk—we Walked on and he walked with us—Adam White was walking on first and me and Casey behind—we walked down Chis-well Street and down by the Meat Market; we went up Holborn, we walked across the Strand and past Chancery Lane, and we went down a turning where there are some steps which brought us right out to the Embankment—White and Hammond crossed the road; Hammond called over to me and said "Mary Ann, come and look"—I crossed the road, Casey followed me, and I saw a young man lying down on his back smothered in blood—there were four or five gentlemen standing round—a young woman with a chestnut can was about two yards from where the young man was knocked down—we asked her who had done it—she said it was over thirty chaps, and they all went down that way, pointing straight down—then two young men picked the young chap up—Casey said" Let us take him to the hospital"—they said "Stop, there will be a cab come up directly"—soon after a cab came up; Casey halloed to the cab; the cabman did not wish to stop for a minute—he went and held the horse's head and made him draw up to the kerb, and the two chaps put the young chap in the cab—another young man came up and said" You might find my hat"—I could not find it—I said "Never mind, you had better go in the cab," and he went in the cab—he had his head cut at the back—four of them went away in the cab—the chestnut woman turned round and said" If I were you I would get away as soon as I could, in case they might come back and do the same to you," and with that we went back the same way—I don't know what became of the woman with the chestnuts; she came a little way the way we went, and she went down one of the turnings in the Strand.

Cross-examined. I have not lived in Bute Street longer than about a year and a half—I live with my mother and father; he is a green-grocer; he does not keep a shop; he goes round to ladies' houses—I go out to work every day—I was working at the envelope folding at Dudley Rose's, Goswell Road—I have worked there four years and a half; I left for about six months to learn the shirt ironing, and I left that just before Christmas—I had known Casey about seven or eight weeks; I knew his name; I believe he knew my name—we had not been in the habit of walking out together; that was the only night we went out together—when we got to the Embankment there were five or six persons standing round the man on the pavement—I did not know any of them—I only saw one cab—two young chaps sug-gested that he should be put into the cab; I don't know who they were—I did not hear the cabman refuse to take him and say it would

make his cab in a mess—it was a Hansom cab that took the two young chaps away—I should know the cabman again—two of those who went in the cab were without hats; they were the two injured ones—I looked about for the hat and could not find it—I recognise Thompson now—I paw him at Bow Street—I went to Bow Street because Casey's sister came to me—I had not seen Casey after the Sunday night before he was taken—I had not been out with him during that period; I was only with him that one night, and I never saw him after that—I do not know Toffy or Evans, Jack the Sailor, Joe Plenty, or Joe Rayner—I do not know Galliers at all; I know him by sight, working at Hoxton Market where I live—I know nothing of a Green Gate gang.

By the COURT. I have not told anybody about this, only what I have said now; neither to Casey or his sister, my father or mother, or any of my friends—nobody knew what I was going to say—I have not said anything to anybody about being out with Casey—I had been on the Embankment before of a Sunday, not since—I do not remember any paper being shown or read to me; to-day I remember a gentleman reading a paper out there, and he told me it was what Casey had said—he did not ask me before what I could say.

ELIZABETH HAMMOND . I live at No. 4, Little Nicholl Street—I have known Casey by going out with my friend Mary Ann Sullivan—I have not known him to speak to him many times, only when I have gone down to her—I have seen him speaking to her—I went for a walk with him and Sullivan and Adam White one Sunday, the week before Christ-mas—we saw him at the corner of Type Street, Chiswell Street, and we asked him was he coming for a walk—he came with us—we were all together—I could not say who he walked with—I could not tell you the way we went; I know we passed the Meat Market, and we went down some steps on to the Embankment, and we saw a few gentlemen standing round opposite the Embankment—me and White were walking together, and when we crossed over White says to me "Come over and see what that is;" and we saw a young man lying down by the side of a bridge, I mean the Embankment—I asked him what was the matter—he said "It is some of the City Road fellows that has done this to me; please God I get over this I will give the City Road fellows the severest hiding as ever they had"—nothing more was said—two young gentlemen held the young man's shoulder—Casey said "Let us call a cab, if we don't the young man will die"—with that Casey called the cabman; he did not care about stopping, because he was bleeding too much; he made some answer that I could not properly catch, and with that the two young gentlemen helped the young man in the cab, the same cab, and Casey helped to hold the cabby's horse, and he halloed out, "Take the young man to the nearest hospital that you can get to quick"—before that a little fellow ran up with his head cut, and said" Let me get in the cab now with this young man," and he asked Sullivan would she be so kind as to look for his hat—she looked for it, but could not see it, and he went in the cab and rode off with the other young man—there was a chestnut woman there, and she said "I have to get my bread here, or I would not come here another night, for it is not the first time it has happened"—with that we all walked away; Jim Casey says" I will make my way home, for I don't feel very well"—we all went home, and I never heard no more of it till now—the cab went to the hospital with

the two young fellows in it; at least there were four of them altogether, because two young men went with them—we went straight home—I could not tell the names of the streets, because I had never been there; it was the same way we had come—the chestnut woman crossed over the road, and we never saw her any more; we bid her good-night, she followed us a little way, she came up the steps along with us, and left us down a turning right opposite—I should not think there were more than four or five people there when we went across the road to them, without the one that was lying down.

Cross-examined. I have lived at 4, Little Nichol Street, about three months, with my mother—she is a coster—I am a box-maker—I was in work at this time, I have not worked there more than four months—I never knew Casey to speak to before that night: I did not know him by name, not till I was told that it was Jim Casey that was taken up—I did not know his name the night I was out with him—I went to Bow Street once, but we were not required—Sullivan and White came round for me; they said that Mrs. Casey had been round to their place—I had not seen Casey at all between the Sunday night and the time I saw him at Bow Street—I only saw one cab—neither of the two who were injured had their hats on—I do not know Galliers at all—I had never seen him before—I do not know Jack Evans or Toffy, or Jack the Sailor, or Joe Plenty, or Joe Rayner—I only know Kennedy by speaking to his wife; I have known her a good while, since I have been going out with Mary Ann Sullivan—I did not see Kennedy on this Sunday night—I cannot tell where I had seen him—I have given this account before—Jim Casey brought me into it, and said that he was with me—it was not him that told me, it was his father said I should have to be up here to speak whether he was with me or not—he gave my father a paper, which I showed to the young gentleman that came outside and asked me for it; the paper said that if I did not come up I should have to pay 100l.—I believe that was last Friday night or Monday night—Sullivan and White came for me to go to Bow Street, and said Mrs. Casey had been round to them.

GALLIERS— GUILTY.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude . The Jury being unable to agree as to CASEY were discharged without a verdict.

NEW COURT.—Friday, March 3rd, and Saturday, March 4 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-329
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

329. WILLIAM SHEA, Unlawfully omitting to discover to his trustee in bankruptcy, part of his personal property.


and BURNIE Defended.

HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I am Superintendent of the Records of the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the defendant's bankruptcy, and a separate file of a petition for the liquidation of his affairs presented by him on 26th March, 1881—no resolution was come to at the first meeting, and on 5th May, 1881, he was adjudicated bank-rupt on the petition of Mr. Saling, the act of bankruptcy being the filing of the liquidation petition—Mr. Norton was appointed trustee—this is a statement of the bankrupt's affairs on 26th March—it was filed on

30th May. (This showed liabilities 1,004l., and assets 284l. 16s. 11d.) I do not find the names of Mrs. Downs or Mrs. Windsor in the list of creditors, or of Mr. Hayes or Mr. Hartman.

Cross-examined. He had two business addresses, Ellingford Road and Wells Street.

SAMUEL HARTMAN . I am a wholesale dealer in boots and shoes, at 159A, Aldersgate Street—I had some transactions with the defendant last year, and on 19th March I purchased boots and shoes of him, amounting to 69l. 9s. 2d., and gave him this cheque that day in part payment (For 24l., endorsed Shea and Co.); and also the acceptance for 20l. dated back March 7th, and this other acceptance for 32l. 17s. 5d. dated March 21st—that is the last transaction I had with him.

WESLEY HAYES . I am a boot and shoe maker, of Bournemouth—I had bought goods from the defendant before March, 1881, and was in-debted to him in that month 59l. 1s., for which I gave him this accept-ance, dated 14th March, which was paid a little after maturity.

ELIZABETH WINDSOR . I live at 103, High Street, Gosport—in 1881 I was Mrs. Downs, and was carrying on business as a retail bootseller—I had some dealings with Shea and Co., and on February 16th I received the invoice from them for goods, and this other about February 22 nd—on March 24th I received from them this statement of account, including those two amounts—somebody called on 19th March, and I paid 12l. on account, and the statement says "By cheque 19l. 3s. 8d. and 12l."—at the bottom of the statement is: "Madam,—Will you kindly oblige with cheque; if not convenient to you just now, it will not matter if dated on a few days. Shea and Co. March 24th."—I afterwards received this letter. (Read: "April 4th. Madam,—Will you kindly forward cheque by return of post; it will not matter if dated on 14 days. Please not to give it to anybody, but remit it to the firm. Shea and Co. ")—I did not do so, and I have not paid it—I do not remember paying anything after the 12l.—on 2nd July, 1881, I received this letter: "45, Ellingford Road. Having seen Mr. Harbord, and hearing he is coming to Portsmouth to-day, I have asked him to collect your account for me if you will kindly give him a cheque?"—Mr. Harbord is a traveller; he came afterwards, but I did not pay him—I had several communications afterwards, and on 16th November my husband paid the amount to Mr. Norton, and this (produced) is his receipt—I had received a communication from the trustee not to pay.

JAMES KING . I keep the Two Black Boys, Hackney, and knew the defendant—on 19th March he sent his man, Alder, to me with this cheque for 24l.—I gave him change for it in two amounts, paid it into the Hackney Branch of the London and County Bank to my account, and I trace it in my pass-book.

Cross-examined. That was on Saturday after banking hours—he pressed me for the amount on account of paying wages.

WILLIAM EDWARD LOVELACE . I am a wholesale boot and shoe maker, of 40, Mare Street, Hackney—I have known the defendant about two years by having manufactured goods of him—I have brought my invoices for the three months ending March 25th, and my transactions with him in January, February, and March last amounted to 57l. 4s. 7d.—I always received invoices when the goods were sent; if I bought any without invoices it was only a few—I lent him 33l. about February

last year; he did not say what it was for—I did not know that he was going to file a petition—I received this bill form on 23rd March (For 20l.), and this other on the same day for 59l. 1s., and I discounted them—I gave him 40l. that day, and he said I might deduct 33l. which he owed me—that left a balance of 6l. 1s.—I paid him in gold—I sometimes take 200l. to bed with me—the bills were both paid.

Cross-examined. I allowed him the balance 6l. 1s. for discounting the bills.

WILLIAM BRAGG . I am a chair maker, and know the prisoner—he owed me 57l. which I had lent him—he called on me the week previous to filing his petition, and brought me this bill for 32l. 17s. 5d. in part payment of what he owed me—he said "You had better keep this bill, I have not got the cash to pay you, and very likely I shall have to file"—I lent him the money at different times, but did not take any I O U or memorandum, because I did not think it would be borrowed for any length of time.

Cross-examined. He came each time on a Saturday—he owed me the same amount at Christmas, and I had pressed him for it more than once—I declined to take this acceptance, because I thought I ought to have cash.

GUSTAVE SALING . I am a leather dresser—in December, 1880, I owed the defendant for some goods, and took this acceptance from him (For 94l., dated December 20, 1880)—he called on me a week before it was due and said that he had bought some more goods and given me as a reference—I asked him about my bill—he said "It is all right; it will be met"—it was dishonoured on presentation, and I then went to his warehouse and saw him—I noticed 30l. or 40l. worth of manufactured stock on the racks, and a good many lying on the table, some of which I had sold him, and there was quite 40l. worth unmanufactured—I said "You have dishonoured my bill"—he said that he could not meet it—I said" There is a lot of goods of mine; you should let me have them back if you could not meet it"—he said that he had filed his petition—I did not know that, and said "Then I cannot have them back"—I went again next day, and quite half of the manufactured goods were gone, and about one-third of those which I had sold him, but a good many manufactured goods were left—I went again next day, and there were only goods here and there, hardly anything of value, only a few odds and ends—I only saw him the first day I called; he promised to see me afterwards, and I called several times, but he did not keep his promise—I filed a petition against him in the Bankruptcy Court—I am the petitioning creditor.

Cross-examined. The bill was due on the 23rd, and I called on him on the 28th about 6 p.m.—I saw several men there; I don't know their names.

EDWIN BENNETT . I am manager to Mr. Crouch, a leather merchant, of Hackney—he is a creditor of the defendant—I began to call at 35, Ellingford Road, on Monday, 21st March, 1881, about an account which was owing, and I called there every day that week—I was there on Friday and Saturday, the 25th and 26th, but heard nothing about his filing a petition—there was a good deal of stock there on the Friday, and three or four hampers lying about, some large and some small; I cannot say whether they were empty or full—a lad named

Constable went with me; he has left our employ, and I have not seen him since—I went again on the Monday, and a lot of the manufactured stock had gone—I did not see the defendant, and I did not know that his petition was filed.

GEORGE SEYMOUR KING . I am employed by Mr. Lear, a leather mer-chant, and a creditor of the defendant—I called on him about money in the week commencing 21st March, and saw a good deal of manufactured stock, mostly on racks; the last time I got inside the warehouse was on the Friday; there was then a large decrease—I mentioned the fact to my employer, and went again on Saturday, the 26th, and Monday, the 28th, but could not get in either time.

THOMAS HARBORD . I am a traveller in the south of England—I tra-velled for the defendant prior to March, and about 20th March I went to see the defendant—I did not know that he was in difficulties—I went again on the Friday, but could not see him; I saw the stock in the warehouse, but did not notice any difference in it—business was going on; they were packing up a box of goods—I went again on the Monday and could not get in; I went on the Tuesday and got in, and there was then scarcely any stock at all—I saw the defendant after that, and went to Gosport in my journey, by Mr. Shea's orders to get a cheque from Mrs. Downs—I knew at that time that the defendant had filed his petition—he said at first that I should have 3l.; I told him I had been there and could not get the cheque; he then offered me 5l. if I would go to Mrs. Downs again and get it; I went, but did not get it, and did not get my 5l.—he told me that his mother had bought the debts and taken the business.

Cross-examined. I saw Mrs. Downs about 17th or 18th March at Gosport, and she said that it was inconvenient to pay then, and I told the defendant that she would pay it in a few weeks—when the defendant told me he would give me 5l. if I collected Mrs. Downs's debt, that was money he owed me; he owed me more than that—he only sold ladies' and children's boots, and the average price wholesale would be about 3s. 6d.—the boxes were the ordinary ones in which boots are packed, three feet long, two feet broad, and two or three feet deep, to hold about six dozen—there would be returned empty boxes there, but I never saw any hampers—when I went on the Friday I saw Alder and Mr. Arnold, the foreman, and I think a boy—they went on packing the box when I went in; I noticed no concealment.

By the JURY. I could not get in on 28th March because the warehouse was closed; that was between 11 and 12 a. m.—the usual time to close was 8 p.m.

BENJAMIN THOMAS NORTON . I am a chartered accountant—on 25th May I was appointed trustee of the defendant by the Bankruptcy Court—I have received certain books and documents which were on the premises, and among them the invoice book, which shows the sales—the last entry of a sale is "18th March, Gainsford, 6l. 6s."—there is no entry of a sale on 19th March to Hartman for 69l. 9s. 2d.—I have searched the whole book and find no entry of a sale to Hayes for 59l. 9s., nor are entries of those transactions in any other book or document—this is the wages book—I find in it up to the week ending 11 th March the names of all the workpeople given, numbering 15 to 18, and the amounts paid to each against their respective names; but there are no names on March

12, 19th, and 26th—I have taken out from the invoices the amount of goods the defendant purchased between 15th January and 26th March——it is 304l., and it may be more—that is for raw material—he puts down in the wages book 178l. for wages paid in the same period—my experience as a trustee is principally in the boot trade—178l. in wages would in the ordinary way represent that amount of manufactured goods, and would bring out 534l. of manufactured stock which he had to deal with during that period—I have taken out the amounts which he has entered in the sales book between those periods—it amounts to about 274l., which leaves about 259l. unaccounted for as far as I can trace—I took possession of 76 pairs of slippers and a few pairs of boots, worth about 6l., and of 50l. or 60l. worth of raw material—all I took was worth about 66l.—the last entry in the sales book is Feb. 22nd, 11l. 2s. 6d., against which is "By cheque 11l. 2s. 6d., returned on box 5s."—making it appear that Mrs. Downs's debt was paid—I discovered it afterwards and gave Mrs. Downs notice not to pay it—I ultimately received the amount from her, 12l.—there is no entry of that as a debt outstanding—the last entry is Gainsford, 6l. 6s.—I have not received anything from Gainsford, and it does not appear to have been paid—before any of these discoveries were made the defendant's mother offered to buy the estate—among other things I received were certain trade fixtures, plant, and different things—I ultimately considered it the interest of the estate to sell it to the defendant's mother for 150l. under the instructions of the committee—I had no knowledge then of the transactions which are being inquired into—I only knew of the diminution of the stock by hearsay——there is no entry in the books, of any sales to Lovelace in March, or of the receipt of money from him—no cash book or ledger was kept that I am aware of—I have looked at his pass book and find that the 24l. cheque did not pass through at all.

Cross-examined. The only books which record anything which the trustee would want to know are the sales, purchase, and wages book—I call this the day book, not the invoice book—one or two entries are not in chronological order—I did not see the bankrupt's mother till the composition—I do not remember whether she said, "Will that settle the matter?" or whether I answered" Yes"—when I give the amount of goods the wages would represent, I am taking a properly managed business—if cheap goods were manufactured rather than expensive ones that would make a slight difference, rather more would be paid in proportion for cheap goods than for better ones.

Re-examined. Seeing what is disclosed in the statement of affairs I was glad to take 150l. in coin—the entries in the sales book refer to the wholesale place—I believe there are no entries of goods going from one place to another—I received about 40l. of stock from the other place—the amount that I sold was made up from both places—the manufactured stock in Ellingford Road was 6l. worth, and I got 40l. in addition from Wells Street that was manufactured—it is a retail shop.

By MR. BURNIE. I paid to a Mr. Kennedy for rent of Ellingford Road from April 23 to June 23, 1881, 8l. 15s. 4d. and 7l. 15s. in full discharge of my claim against the estate—the receipt is dated June 22—the rent became due from month to month—I am not sure whether the 7l. 15s. is for Wells Street or for his private house, but I believe it was for the private house, nor do I know to what time it refers.

JOHN PRIOR . I have had long experience in the leather trade—Mr. Norton's calculation as to the amount in raw material and wages paid, is a fair one for that class of work—it would be three times the amount of the wages.

Cross-examined. I also agree with Mr. Norton that that answer refers to a properly administered business, that is where goods fetch a fair trade price on sale—there would be a slight difference in the proportion if cheaper goods were manufactured—I saw these goods on the premises, but not to make a valuation of them.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-330
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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330. HARRY CLENCH STANLEY (37) , Being a director of a certain public company, unlawfully circulating a false prospectus, and inducing divers persons to become shareholders, with intent to defraud.

MR. DAY, Q. C., and MR. MEAD Prosecuted.

SAMUEL HAYMAN . I live at 45, Holland Road, Brixton, and am a clerk in the Registrar's Office of Joint Stock Companies, Somerset House—I produce a file of documents belonging to the "Government Security Fire Insurance Company, Limited"—the first is a memorandum of association subscribed by three persons as shareholders; the first is Martin and Co., 8, Gracechurch Street, for 100 shares; the next is Ebenezer Francis, commercial traveller, 20 shares; the next is the Count de Fonceton for 20 shares, and William Smith, 8, Gracechurch Street, 2,500 shares; the capital stated on the memorandum is 258,645l., divided into shares of 5l. each—the date of incorporation is 17th November, 1875—I produce the certificate and the articles of association; by article 71 Martin and Co. are appointed the first managing directors, appointed until they die, unless they think fit to resign—the registered offices of the Company are 164, Queen Victoria Street—I have here the list of shareholders which is required to be filed, and I find among them Harry C. Stanley, 164, Queen Victoria Street, one share, but it is written here Harvey; then follows a number of nominees with a bracket against them Ida, Rhoda, and Hastings Stanley, with others, as nominees of H. C. Stanley; there is no address against them—John James Blake is the secretary, with 101 shares, and in another place I find that he has 19 nominees; the next name is J. J. Walker, with 19 names of nominees bracketed against him—a large number of shareholders are described as newspaper proprietors—by resolution passed on 13th March, 1876, and registered at a later date, the name of the company is changed from the "Government Securities Cooperative Fire Insurance Company, Limited," to the "Government Securities Fire Insurance Company, Limited. "

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The attesting witness to this deed is Thomas Henry Hornsby, and to some others, but not to all; he was the insurance clerk—only seven persons are necessary to enable a company to be incorporated, and they need only take one share each if they do not want to incur risk—all the requisitions of the Act of Parliament with respect to registration have been complied with, and they have a registered office, and a list of members has been filed since 1876, but returns should be made yearly under the Act of Parliament—the shareholders have the power to alter the articles of association if they think fit, and they have altered one; besides changing the name, they have

made an addition to clause 41 giving power to the president to appoint a vicepresident. (The witness here read several clauses at the request of the prisoner.) All the documents are open to the inspection of anybody on payment of 1s.

GORDON SUTHERLAND MUNROE . I am a pensioner, and live at Edmonton—in January, 1876, I entered the service of this company at Queen Victoria Street at a salary of 120l. a year payable for the first year in fully paidup shares, which were allotted to me to that amount; the defendant suggested that I should divide them among the members of my family, and I gave their names; no certificates were issued to them; they were merely nominees—the defendant was managing the company when I went there; no other persons named Martin and Co. were doing so—I kept the policy ledger under the defendant and secretary's supervision during the whole time I was in the office; here is an entry in it, "11374, 10th June, Harry Clench Stanley's nominees" (This was an insurance dated 10 th June, 1876, for 873,000l. at a special rate of 10 guineas, on a Royal Mail Steamer while passing from Dover to Calais, in the event of a fire between the two ports.) I think that is the defendant's writing, and in the cashbook on 1st June, 1876, on the debit side, here is an entry, "10l. 10s. 0d., H. Stanley," in the defendant's writing—I was in the office from the beginning of January, 1876, to the end of September, 1876; the defendant was manager during that time—I have looked through the cashbook from 29th January, 1876, to 12th April, 1877, and with one or two exceptions the entries are in his writing—I saw him prepare proofs of prospectuses from time to time; printed copies were kept in the office, and issued under his and the secretary's directions, and they were distributed by post to the editors of newspapers—I remember the Count de Fonceton visiting the office; he was about 20 years old; he was described as supervisor of foreign business—I think there were one or two foreign policies—this agreement (produced) is between Frederick Adderley, Henry Stanley, and Mr. Solomon, for the rent of 164, Queen Victoria Street, at 200l. a year—this "H. C. Stanley" is to the best of my belief the defendant's writing, and this signature, Martin and Co., to the memorandum of association is also his—the last entry in the minute book in his writing is on 12th February, 1877; the two signatures there, the tranfers signed Martin and Co. and H. Stanley, are his writing, and so is this letter dated 30th April, 1877, and all these letters addressed to Mr. Maybury, except the one marked C—the signature H. Stanley to this form of agreement to the transfer of shares is in his writing to the best of my belief, and also this agreement under which Mr. Beadmore consents to become an agent, and also these words "200 shares" written in the body of it—this entry in the cashbook on 18th February, 1877, "Mrs. Cooper 500l.," is the defendant's writing, and also this "625l. managing director's salary, February 10," and this, March 10th, 1876, "Humphrey 20l.," and 25th March, 1876, "Humphrey 20l.," and August 9th, "Humphrey shares 97l., less commission 77l"—on December 13th I find the name of Aitken" I share 50l.;" that is in the defendant's writing to the best of my belief—the bodies of these promissory notes marked S 1 to S 11 are in the defendant's writing; the first one is for 12,500l.; the signature Smith and Co. is not in the same writing; this one of Stanley and Co., of 29th February, 1876, for 100l., payable five years after date, is in the defendant's writing, both the body and the

signature; and these two of Martin and Co. for 200l. payable on demand are also in his writing, bodies and signatures—Mr. Winterbottom, Mr. Ingham, and Mr. Adderley were directors in January, 1876, and they are stated here as being present at the meeting—the resolution on the last page is that Mr. Adderley be allowed his railway fare when attending the board meetings—the Hon. John Colburn was appointed a director of the company on 15th December, and also Mr. Adderley and Mr. Winterbottom.

Cross-examined. Mr. John Blake was secretary to the company when you joined the office in January, 1876, and was so as long as I was connected with it—the last entry in the minutebook is Mr. Blake's writing, on 29th January, 1877—his last entry in the cashbook is Sept. 1, 1877—he was secretary then, and attended to the correspondence—he signed the authorisation of advertisements in newspapers—he may have had power to insert what advertisements he thought fit, on condition that payment was taken in fully paidup shares—at this distance of time I cannot say whether he inserted advertisements during my absence in the provinces—I find recorded in the minutebook a meeting held on 16th December, 1876, when Mr. Ingham, Mr. Winterbottom, and Mr. Adderley were the directors present, and probably myself; Mr. Adderley was in the chair, and a resolution was passed fixing the salary of the managing director, as set forth in Clause 71—the next meeting was on 22nd Dec., when the minutes of the previous, meeting were affirmed, that is, signed "F. Adderly, chairman"—a general meeting was held at Cannon Street Hotel on 13th March, 1876, at which Mr. William Archer Redmond, M. P., and Mr. Ingham, another director, spoke—there is a report of Mr. Redmond's speech. (The witness read several resolutions from the book at the prisoner's request, but upon MR. DAY putting the entire book in evidence, and the COURT informing the prisoner that he could direct the attention of the Jury to it afterwards, the line of crossexamination was not continued.) It does not appear here that the company went into liquidation six months after your resignation—I find in the cashbook in 1875, "Martin and Co., 100l. cash;" and Mr. Adderley is credited "Cash 100l.," and Mr. Winterbottom "Cash 100l."—I also find "W. A. Redmond, shares, 2l. 10s.," on 4th March, 1876—here is also an entry, "Rev. B. O. Jones, cash 100l."—I find in the share account "The Hon. John Colborne, Totnes, Devon, 20 shares, 16th February, 1876"—he is credited with paying 100l. in respect of those shares—it does not say in what way it was paid, but the entry is" J. Colborne, P. N. 100l.; "that is" promissory note"—there is no entry of any payment of that promissory note—that would not be added up as cash, it is only in the share ledger—January 27, 1877 appears to be the last entry in the cashbook, it is" H. Stanley, loan on debenture, 50l."—that 50l. is supposed to be received by the company—I am not aware whether the Count was married—I formed my opinion of his age from his personal appearance—he had not a heavy black moustache, his face was perfectly clear—his address was Fulham Road, London, and he insured his furniture, china, and jewellery for 760l., and paid 15s. 3d. premium—I was a pensioner on halfpay when I joined the company, and was willing to accept an office in the company, taking payment in shares—I signed a letter to that effect—when the company went into liquidation I was put on the list of contributors for 24 shares, notwithstanding I had proved to him that I had paid for my

shares with my salary—I have compromised with the liquidator for 10l., and have paid 5l.—you had no whiskers or moustache in 1875 and 1876, but Mr. Blake had a heavy black moustache and whiskers—he was short and thin—this is a rough sketch of the boardroom. (Giving the position of different desks)—I never remember Mr. Blake being absent from his post one day except on public holidays—I do not remember his sitting at your desk, or you at his. (The COURT informed the prisoner that there was no complaint of any irregularity in the routine of the office, and MR. DAY stated that he withdrew the charges as to some opinions of the press, which had been made in error.) There is no entry on 3rd August, 1876, of a resolution as to the arrears of your salary, but it says, "Resolved, that each director do receive the sum of half a guinea only, for attendance at each meeting, until all arrears due to the managing director have been been paid by the company"—that is signed by the Hon. John Colborne.

Re-examined. No prospectuses were issued without instructions from the defendant or the secretary—the prisoner appeared thoroughly acquainted with all that went on in the office.

JOHN HARRISSON . I am a medical practitioner at Braintree—James Cooper Baker is a patient of mine there; he is not fit in my judgment to attend here and give evidence; he has been depressed ever since his examination at the Mansion House.

Cross-examined. I have not heard that he is under a delusion that the prosecution are going to tear him to pieces, or that he has complained that they are going to bring him to London in a cab—I have not had a word with him on the subject.

----HANCOOK. I am assistant to Daniel Greenaway, a printer—I received instructions for printing these prospectuses from Mr. Stanley and sometimes from clerks from the office—the drafts and proofs would be sent to the office of the company when a fresh proof was sent sent—they were all destroyed on our moving—looking at Mr. Humphreys's card, I should think it was printed in our office; it is like some we have done for him; it is a business prospectus—this prospectus, dated 7th September, 1876, was also printed in our office, and also this prospectus sent to Mr. Jenkins, dated 12th October, 1876; so was Mr. Atkins's, Mrs. Cooper's, and Maybury's.

Cross-examined. The directors' names appear on all of them.

WILLIAM CORNISH COOPER. I am a public accountant—I was appointed liquidator to this company; a minute of my appointment is in the minute book on 8th January, 1877—I have examined the share register, and have prepared this statement of the shares allotted to the directors and officers of the company. (This showed 2,978 shares, for which 552l. 10s. was paid in cash, 13,700l. in promissory notes, and 495 shares paid for in salaries.) I have not been able to realise anything on the promissory notes S 1 to S 11—I see here a promissory note for 12,500l. of a Mr. Smith—I have not been able to find any trace of him—the body of that note is in the defendant's writing—I have not been able to find the Count, though inquiries have been made at the address where he is supposed to have insured furniture—no addresses are given of Stanley, Ingham, and Blake in the share register, except at the company's offices, and the 19 nominees have each the same address as the shareholder—by the subdivision of shares I calculate that the register was increased to the extent of 95 names—the total number of shares allotted to newspaper proprietors in consideration of advertisements is 4,387 to 297 shareholders—the number

of ordinary shareholders who are not newspaper proprietors or officers of the company is 71, holding 1,589 shares, and the total amount of ordinary shareholders paid is 1,652l. 5s. 8d., less deductions, which reduce it to about 1,050l.—the amount paid by shareholders up to 3rd June, 1876, was 872l. 10s., and the amount paid from June 3 to October 12, 1876, was 332l. 11s.—the total amount paid up to 13th February, 1877, was 1,472l. 7s. 8d.—the total amount of money paid on 5l. shares to 17th April, 1877, was 7,945l.—there are 2,978 shares taken by directors and other officers upon which some money was paid—if they were fully paid for it would amount to 14,890l.; that includes Smith's 12,500l.—a book was kept, called the advertisement receipt ledger—I find receipts in it for the Irishman newspaper—the first one is dated January 27, 1876, "65l. received for a certificate of 13 shares;" the next entry is March 8," By shares 5l.;" next "13th October, 39 shares, 195l.;" then "16th November, 13 shares 65l."—then the Staffordshire Sentinel, 28th April, 1876, "Received in shares in settlement 32l.;" "30th September, 1876, settled by shares 33l. 12s."—the first date of insertion is January 12 to March 8, and there is a later one—as to the Malvern Advertiser, here is 1876 to 1877 "Settled 6th November 35l. 2s." in shares; that would be seven shares—then I find two more for 10l. paid in shares 27th November, 1876—I have examined the policies ledger and other books relating to policies issued; up to the time of the winding up of the company the sum represented by policies was 1,234,049l.—the cost of the advertisements was the usual price, as they were to be paid in shares.

Cross-examined. The date of this prospectus is February 7th, 1876—as a fact there were people holding shares representing 33,000l. or thereabouts—the statement is correct by the books—the statement "Amount of insurances effected upwards of one million" is true by the books—the statement in each prospectus is true in the same sense that that is true—the minute of 8th November is my authority for acting as liquidator; I was not present at the meeting—this is Mr. Blake's writing I believe—I know Mr. 'Ackrill, the chairman of the meeting; he has signed the proceedings.

JOSEPH FRANCIS . I am a clerk, and live at 35, Blurton Road, Clapton—my house was formerly known as 7, Watford Terrace—I think I lived there in 1875—no person named Ebenezer Francis, of 7, Watford Terrace, lived in my house—I do not know this signature in the memorandum of association—I know two or three persons named E. Francis, but not living in my house—I did not authorise this signature, or know anything about it.

Cross-examined. In 1875 I was collector to Pickford and Co.—I have only one Christian name, Joseph; I am not a commercial traveller—I have a brother whose initials are E. J., but we are not very friendly, and I do not often see him; he is not a commercial traveller. (The witness wrote his name and address at the prisoner's request.) I have never used the name of Ebenezer—I first heard of this company about two months ago—none of their notices came to 7, Watford Terrace—one letter came from the liquidator 12 months ago—I will not swear that it is not two years ago—I opened it, and threw it away, because it had nothing to do with me—I swear I did not sign this "Ebenezer Francis" in 1875 in this book—I do not know Padden, the attesting witness.

Re-examined. There is no pretence for saying that this is my signature; my brother's name is Edward.

THOMAS BEARDMORE . I am a bricklayers' labourer, of 5, Hampton Street, Wood Vale, Stafford—in 1875 I saw an advertisement in the Staffordshire Sentinel, in consequence of which I wrote this letter: "Dear Sir,—Having seen your advertisement in the daily papers saying that you require agents in all the towns in England, I can give good references if required. "I received an answer to that, which has got destroyed—I then wrote this letter. (Dated November 3rd, 1875. To Martin and Co., Managing Directors, Old Broad Street, offering to become an agent at 100l. a year in shares, if no calls would be made on them.) I also received this paper: "Special terms to agents, 100l. per annum, the first year's salary to be retained, by the company; commission 5 per cent. in cash on insurances granted by the agent, and 5s. per share in cash on all shares placed by the agent. "After that I received another letter from Martin and Co., which is destroyed, and a prospectus—I then wrote this letter. (Dated 8 th November, giving references), and on the same day I sent them this paper with my signature; the words "two hundred" in ink before the word shares was not there when I signed it. (This requested the company to allot to the witness 200 5l. shares, he undertaking to pay 10s. per share by the Company applying his salary of 100l. for that purpose. Addressed to Martin and Co., Managing Directors.) I was not aware that I was to have 200 5l. shares allotted to me; I only understood that I was to have 20 fully paidup shares to represent my first year's salary—I never did anything for the company—I earn 3s. 6d. a day, I used to earn 4s. in 1875.

Cross-examined. I did not tell the company that I was a labourer—I described myself as an agent, and I was an agent at that time for selling oil for Wells and Co., of Liverpool—I swear that I understood that my shares were to be fully paid up—I can't say why I wrote and said that I hoped there would be no call on the shares for one year at least—I have not signed the foot note to take up fully paidup shares.

Re-examined. I worked in a brickfield in 1875, and ceased at the latter end of October, and got an oil agency, which did not answer my purpose, and I applied for this—I have now gone back to the brickfield.

RICHARD HUMPHREY . I am a publican, of Smithfield, StocktononTees—I saw an advertisement in the Stockton Herald referring to the Government Security Fire Insurance Company, Limited, of which this is a copy—I wrote a letter to the company, and received this reply, dated February 16th, 1876. (Enclosing prospectus and form of application for shares, and a card stating that the first 32,000 shares had been taken up.) Before I returned any form I received this letter, dated 22nd February. (Requesting to know whether the company were to keep any shares for the witness.) After that I filled up a form of application for 20 shares, saying that if they could possibly be put in my daughter's name, Elizabeth Ann Humphrey, 18 years of age, I should wish it to be done—I filled up and signed this application form (produced), and wrote before 28th February, proposing to pay 1l. down per share, and the rest to remain till September—I then received this letter. (Dated 28 th February, from the company, stating that they would meet the witness's wishes, and leave the balance of 4l. per share till the time mentioned.) After that I sent 20l., and agreed to take 20 shares, and subsequently on 3rd August I sent 77l. by this cheque (produced)—I had received this letter. (Stating that if the shares were paid for at once brokerage of 3s. per share would be allowed, reducing the amount due, 86l., to 77l.) I received this certificate made out in my daughter's name—I read the

card which was sent to me, and the statement that 32,000l. was taken up by so few shareholders, and the directors' names influenced my mind in taking the shares—I received these two letters. (One of these was from the Directors, enclosing a certificate showing the improved working of the company, and stating that a few more shares would be offered to shareholders to increase their interest.) I did not think it proper, to take any more shares—having valuable property on my premises I insured part of my stock—this is my policy. (Dated June 26 th, 1876, for 2,850l., annual premium 4l. 5s. 6d.)—2,000l. of that was on my stock—I paid the 4l. 5s. 6d. less commission which I was allowed.

JOHN SLOGGETT JENKINS . I am proprietor and editor of the Malvern Advertiser—I received this letter, dated 28th October, 1876, from J. W. Blake, headed Government Security Fire Insurance Company, Limited, enclosed in which was a prospectus. (Read: "Sir,—You may insert for a period of three months the enclosed prospectus in your advertisements, provided you accept payment in fully paidup shares of the company.—J. W. Blake, Secretary")—I replied accepting the terms, and inserted the advertisement—I then received this letter, "On receipt of your account we will send you certificate of shares.—J. W. Blake"—I sent an account for 35l., and received this letter of 4th November. (Enclosing a certificate for seven fully paidup shares)—I sent back my account receipted, and afterwards received a request to insert for three months an advertisement, dated 8th November, on the same terms, which I did, and sent in an account for 10l., for which I received this certificate for two shares—I read the prospectus very carefully, and was impressed by the title, and was particularly struck with the names of the trustees: men of the highest position, and several Honourables—since the company has been wound up I have had to pay 30s. per share in calls.

Cross-examined. I had to pay upon the shares notwithstanding I had given value to the company—I have since heard that that liability has been the subject of a lawsuit before the ViceChancellor—mine is not one of the newspapers which fought the question with the liquidator.

CAROLINE COOPER . I am a widow, and live at 119, Ernest Street, Bow Road—in December, 1876, I saw in this piece of the Irishman newspaper this advertisement of the Government Cooperative Fire Insurance Company, Limited—part of it is torn off—I read it carefully, and went to the office—I think I saw Mr. Stanley and another gentleman, whose name I believe to be Blake—they gave me some papers; one was a small card like this, with the names of all the gentlemen who were said to belong to it—I read the card carefully and went again to the office in February, 1877, saw the prisoner, and asked him if the company was perfectly secure; he told me it was perfectly safe; I told him that I had over 500l. in Consols, and proposed to bring the money as soon as I could get it out of the bank—he gave me this paper, which my daughter filled up, and I signed it. (This was a request to prepare debentures for 500l.)—I sold out my Consols, and received 515l. from my broker on 8th February by cheque, which I got cashed the same day in hundred pound notes and fifties and gold, of which I took 500l. to Victoria Street and gave it to Mr. Stanley, who afterwards sent me this debenture. (For 500l., signed by the Hon. J. Colborne, Captain St. George, and J. W. Blake)—I received one halfyear's dividend, and only one—that was paid to me in June, 1877—I quite believed the prisoner's

statement that it was perfectly safe, and what I saw in the Irishman and on the cards.

Cross-examined. I read the whole advertisement, not this piece only; my lawyer has kept this piece about three years, and before he had it I kept it locked in my desk—I must have torn it myself before I put it in my desk—I recognise this sketch of the board room; I remember this clerk's office at the side; I saw you there on my second visit; I cannot say about the first—you look very much altered now, but I should know you from a thousand—I went twice before paying the money, and when I paid it made, three times—I called first through seeing 8 per cent, and I was only getting 5, and seeing many influential names and Government Security induced me to go—I knew nothing about debentures till I went to the office and you explained it—I cannot swear that Mr. Blake did not have interviews with me, but the papers were given me either by you or by him—I am not aware that he is dead—I do not think I had seen you before the occasion when the debenture was handed to you to go and get it stamped—I remember going to Somerset House in a cab with Mr. Blake; not with you—it was not you who asked me in the cab if that was my daughter who was with me; it was Mr. Blake—I took my daughter with me because my hearing is bad, to tell me what I could not hear, but she never said anything.

Re-examined. I saw the defendant twice, and it was he who told me that it was all safe, and I took his word.

HENRY AITKINS . I live at 29, Garden Place, in Fife—in December, 1876, I saw an advertisement in the Scotsman, wrote for a prospectus, and received a letter enclosing one (produced) and this allotment form—I applied for 10 shares and sent 50l., thoroughly believing the statements in the prospectus—I paid fully up.

HORACE MAYBURY , M. D. I live at Islington—about 13th January, 1877, I saw an advertisement in the Bazaar, Exchange, and Mart, and wrote a letter to M. A.; Romford—I then received this letter. (This was stamped with a Coronet, and dated from Clyde Villa, Romford, enclosing a prospectus of the company, and saying that he should not be disposed to part with more than 30 shares, and would receive jewellery in payment. Signed, H. Stanley.) I did not know that the writer was connected with the company, so I wrote to the secretary, and received this letter and prospectus. (Dated 24 th January, signed T. W. Blake, and stating that ere long the shares would only be able to be obtained at a good premium.) I then wrote to Mr. Stanley, and received this letter. (Dated January 25 th, 1877, stating that the debentures were to be paid off on 18 th December next, that the directors never received a penny for their services, and that the writer was in negotiation for a good number.) The defendant afterwards called, we talked the matter over, he said that he expected great things of the company, and that it would get on very well—I afterwards received this letter from him. (Dated July 20, stating that the investing public were getting alive to the value of fire insurance companies, some of which realised 221/2 per cent. on their capital. Signed H. Stanley.) I then received a letter from him, in which he said that he had no objection to guarantee the bond, after which I received this 50l. debenture—I did not see him sign it—I gave him a watch, a diamond ring, and other articles for that debenture and one share, but I took six shares more—I received this

certificate for the debenture, but before that I received this letter. (This was from the prisoner, dated February 3, stating that the transferring seven shares to the witness left him with an odd three, and that he should be willing to accept a diamond ring and gold necklet for them.) I agreed to that by letter, then received this letter. (Accepting the offer and enclosing a transfer of the three shares, and requesting that the jewellery might be registered. Signed H. Stanley.) I sent the jewellery by post, and received this letter. (Acknowledging the receipt.) I then received a certificate for the 10 shares from the company—I carefully read the prospectus, thought it bond fide, and wrote to a broker and to the secretary.

Cross-examined. It was not altogether upon the faith of what was in Mr. Blake's letter that I entered into the exchange of jewellery with you, it was on the faith of what appeared in the prospectus—you did not tell me that you had paid 50l. for your debenture—I said that the watch was worth 35l., and I could not state the value of the diamond locket—I gave you the watch, the locket, and a ring for the debenture and the share—I told you to get them valued—I gave 28l. for the watch in Liverpool, and have bad it two years; the case is worth 10l.—I believe the locket cost 12l.—I should be very much surprised to hear that it was only worth 2l.—I am a doctor of medicine, and I sometimes exchange jewellery if a person has a thing I want—I received half a year's interest from the company, 1l. 10s.—I have not applied to the liquidator nor to you, you have been out of the country—I sent an application to the Court of Chancery; I believe it is for the 50l.—I do not expect to get anything from the estate.

ROBERT CHILD (City Detective Sergeant). I made inquiries with regard to some of the persons who signed the memorandum of association—I have been to 44, Grove Road, Holloway, but could not find Mr. Edmund McGrath, and to 26, Old Broad Street, but cannot find Mr. Wigham, and to Buckingham Palace Road, but cannot find Henry Charles Carter, nor can I find Caleb Lees—I have been to 8, Gracechurch Street, but cannot find Mr. Smith.—I found Charles Roberts, he is the conductor of a musichall—I have, not found Frederick Adderley, of 2, York Villas, Richmond, or Charles Hammond, of 42, Cheapside—I have made inquiries as to others who signed the memorandum of association but could not find them—on Saturday, 17th January, I took the defendant at Marlborough Street Police-court, and read the warrant to him charging him with this offence in 1877—he said "That is a long while ago, and I forget it, but I am quite ignorant of having done anything wrong"—he was brought up on the following Monday.

Cross-examined. I was unable to find those persons in 1882, and I ascertained that they were not the occupiers of houses in 1875—Mr. Adderley had furnished rooms at York Villas, Richmond, for six months, since that they knew nothing of him—you did not say that you had been in London 12 months and did not hear anything of the matter you said that you had brought your wife and family from South Africa.

Re-examined. I tried my very best with house agents and others, but could get no clue to the whereabouts of any of the persons mentioned—the prisoner said that the press had been induced to take shares and had found them valueless, which had embittered them very much, and they were a powerful body. (The prisoner's request for the allotment of his shares, the transfer of shares from Martin and Co. to Stanley, and the minutes and resolutions were here put in.)

MR. COOPER (Re-examined). The total amount of cash received by the company up to the time the prisoner left was 3,191l. 13s. 11d., of of which he received 1,843l. 12s. 6d.

Cross-examined. I have included the 700l. for the incorporation of the company, and the office rent, and the endowment—of your two years' salary 1,000l. has been paid—you sometimes had to wait for your salary.

This being the case for the Prosecution, the prisoner submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury, as the Prosecution had failed to prove that the allegations in the prospectus as to the capital taken up, and the amount of insurances effected, were untrue. The COURT considered that although there was a sense in which the shares were taken up, whether they were taken up in a bonâ fide sense was a question for the Jury.

The prisoner, in his defence, contended that he had as much right to use the name of Martin and Co. as Messrs Child, the bankers, had to use that name, although no such member of that firm existed. Mr. Blake, who could have proved his innocence, was dead. When the company started he (the prisoner) was the first to put his name down for 100 shares, and Mr. Adderley, a retired East India merchant, did the same, and that 200l. was paid for the office rent, that he worked hard, but his salary was eight or nine, and once ten months in arrears, and the directors agreed to take only half their fees till it was paid, and that he paid 50l. for his debentures when his salary was eight months in arrear; that when he handed over the cashbook to the secretary 26l. was due to him for money paid out of pocket, and 125l. for salary was still owing to him. He stated that the solicitor had had the lion's share of the money, and contended that the directors ought to be standing in his place, and complained that the Hon. John Colborne, and Captain St. George, and Mr. Watts had not been called as witnesses, while he, the only support of his wife and eight children, was attempted to be made the victim.


FOURTH COURT.—Friday, March 3 rd, 1882.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-331
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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331. DANIEL CARTHY (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Baberidge, and stealing therein one knife and one steel, two coats, and four shirts, the goods of Arthur Crocker.

MR. SHENTON Prosecuted.

CHARLES BABERIDGE . I live at 344, Portobello Road, Notting Hill and am a coffee house keeper—on 7th February I went to bed at 11.15—the doors and windows were all closed—next morning, at 6.15, I went down to the kitchen and missed four shirts from the clothes line, also a carving knife and steel.

ARTHUR CROKER , I am servant to Mr. Baberidge—on 8th February I got up at 5.45 and went down into the kitchen; I found the window wide open, the gas burning, the clothes on the floor, and the line pulled down—I informed my master.

THOMAS DOVE (Police Sergeant X). I received information on 8th February, and made inquiries which led me to go to Portobello Road, where I saw the prisoner, and said "Carthy, I want you. What have you got under your coat?"—he said" Some shirts"—I told him there had

been a robbery and some shirts had been stolen and a knife and steel, and he would have to go with me to 344, Portobello Road—I took him there, when the two last witnesses identified the shirts—I told him he would have to go to the policestation, and he said "Dove, you have got the wrong man; let me go"—he had two shirts under his coat at the station when I searched him, and he had two on—the prosecutor and the last witness identified them at once—he said that about 5 o'clock he got in at the window, and went there to get food, lit the gas, and finding no food, took the shirts, and the knife and steel, which he had thrown into the canal, that is what they call the "layby," where the water is very deep, and where the barges go in to load coal.

GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-332
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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332. HOWARD YATES (25) , Robbery with violence on John Samuel Clark, and stealing from him a purse and 3l. 13s. 6d., his property.

MR. CRANSTOUN Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended.

JOHN SAMUEL CLARK . I am a general dealer, of 43, Upper Rathbone Place—on Saturday night, 18th February, at about 11.15, I was in Queen Street, close to King Street, Long Acre, when I saw a large crowd, a man came behind me and took me round the waist, and another man tore my coat open and took my watch chain, and another man throttled me, and two men rifled my pockets; two of them held my legs down—I held the prisoner while I was on the ground—he took my purse containing 3l. 10s. in gold, and there was 3s. 6d. in my righthand trousers pocket in silver—the policeman said he had the purse, and asked me how I could recognise it—I told him what it was, and he said he believed he had got it—he showed it to me, and I recognised it—there was no money in it then—my watch was left in my pocket, but the chain was broken away in the scuffle—the value of the watch and chain is about 7l. 10s.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate" I saw the prisoner put his hand between a man and a woman, and give them something"—I know a man named Cronin—I had not been drinking with him, but I treated him with something to drink—I had a glass of ale—we had been together only an hour—we had only been into one public-house—I treated him to threepennyworth of "Irish"—I had two friends with me—I had not been away from them an hour—I took out with me 3l. 10s., and I had 3s. 6d. left—I could not say to a shilling what I had, but I know what I had when I left the house, viz., 3s. 6d. in silver and 3l. 10s. in gold—I did not see him taken into custody—I did not lose sight of him until he went into a court—I should think they had me down five minutes—I do not know who Cronin is—I do not know that he has been convicted several timeshe did not see me pay for anything.

WILLIAM BELL (Policeman E 62). On Saturday night, 18th February, about 11.20, I met the prisoner in Neal's Yard—he was running at a rapid pace—I stopped him, and asked him what he was running for; he said "I am running away from my wife"—I took him back to the bottom of the court in Neal's Yard, and there met the prosecutor walking; he did not seem flushed—he said "That is the man who has stolen my purse"—I took the prisoner to the station, and went back an hour afterwards and found the purse just where I stopped the prisoner—there was no money in it.

Cross-examined. Neal's Yard is a thoroughfare from Queen Street to

Great St. Andrew Street—I do not know Cronin—I found no money on the prisoner—the prosecutor was not under the influence of drink—he was Witness for the defence.

MARY ANN COLLINS . I am a charwoman, of 68, Dudley Street—I have been living with the prisoner as his wife two or three weeks—on the night he was arrested we had a few words together between 11 and 12 o'clock in the middle of Queen Street—Neal's Yard is a thoroughfare from Queen Street to Great St. Andrew Street—we had been separated for a few weeks, and I met him on 18th February, and asked him to make it up and come home again; he would not, and ran away from me in the direction of Neal's Yard.

GUILTY. Five Years' Penal Servitude.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-333
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. F. H. LEWIS Defended.

ARTHUR BLATCH . I am a driver, of 10, Henry Street, Upper Kennington Lane—the prisoners are employed at Messrs. W. H. Smith and Son's where I work—I had been a witness on 2nd February at the Mansion House against two boys, Josiah Brooks and William Brodie, charged with the unlawful possession of some fruit—on 4th February I was in the messroom of Messrs. Smith and Son having my breakfast, when some of the prisoners and another man came to me and said it was the last meal I should take, and had I got any dying speech to make—then one of them said they had come to the conclusion that I had got to sustain the penalty they had inflicted on me, and that I was to go down into a tank—I was sitting on a form, which was pulled from under me, and I was thrown to the ground and a rope was thrown over my head; I got that off with my hands—another rope was put round my body and legs, and I was dragged to the door and down the steps head foremost—I felt the blood ran to my head, which caused a bursting sensation, and I remembered no more until I found myself in the stables with a lot of slime and stuff over my face—I had been saturated with water—then somebody stuck something into my hip to try and revive me—when I came to somebody was holding a sponge which smelt of wine, and some of the prisoners said how I lapped it in—while I was struggling for my breath three buckets of water came over me, which took away my breath—then I was taken up by Mathews, and my wet clothes were taken off, and I was given some hot tea—I went out afterwards to do my work, and I fainted on the cart and fell off because I was so unnerved, and I had no use of my limbs—this was on the Saturday, and I remained in bed all Sunday—on Monday I went to the doctor, and in consequence of what he said I kept ray bed for seven or eight days, and the prisoners were remanded because I was unable to attend—with the exception of the circumstance of the boys being prosecuted I had not given the prisoners any cause for their conduct.

Cross-examined. I do not know whether the prisoners had anything to do with the boys—I had been late once or twice about six weeks before the occurrence—the prisoners did not threaten to put me in the tank, and I did not know it was their intention—Gosling told me that they were going to

put me in the tank before my going to the Mansion House—it was a very cold, foggy morning—I had been out from 2 a. m.—the fog did not come on till 7 o'clock—there may have been some others on the form having their breakfasts—I did not hear anybody say "Are you ready for the tank?"—I did not fall off the form in a faint—I am the only witness on my own behalf—the ropes were halters, which they had taken from the stables—Punter had one rope and Lambert another, and a rope was thrown over my head from behind—they put filth and urine in my face—the filth was a sort of slime, or it might be sopped up from behind the horses standing there—I did not see anybody take it up—I do not know that my face was bathed with water—I saw Clark, the foreman, and I told him before this occurred what the men intended to do to me—I saw him afterwards in the afternoon, when he knew all about it—when they told me they were going to put me in the tank I did not say" I can defend myself, and will rip the first man up who touches me"—I swear that—the question has been put to me before.

Re-examined. Selway put the sponge in my face and said how I lapped it in and didn't I like it, when I was saying "Pray let me alone. "

CHARLES FOSTER . I am a driver in the employ of Messrs. Smith and Co.—I know Blatch—I did not hear anything said on Saturday morning about what was going to be done to him—when I was dressing my horse in the stable I heard somebody say that they were going to duck him or something—that was between 8 and 9 o'clock—I told Blatch of it—I was ordered out at 9 o'clock—I have been obliged to do his work in consequence of his being late in the morning—when I told him they were going to tank him he said that he had a knife, and intended to use it if required—I have not known that it is the custom to tank men when they are late—I have been there since about four weeks before Christmas.

REUBEN MATHEWS . I am a driver in Messrs. Smith and Son's employ—I was in the messroom on 4th February a little before 9 o'clock—I saw Blatch there—I was in the room when he was carried out, but I cannot say who by—I afterwards saw him laid down on the asphalt, and he seemed to be fainting—I saw him after he came upstairs, when his clothes were wet round the shoulders—I said before the Magistrate that he was saturated round the shoulders and head—his clothes were taken off and his overcoat was put on him—we had no fresh clothes to put on him—I had not been in the room a minute before I heard somebody say" Tank him"—I said" Do not put him in the tank. "

Cross-examined. I think I should have seen if there had been any halters or ropes put round him—I did not see any urine or filth thrown over him—his face was sponged with cold water from the tank—I did not help to take him upstairs—when I saw him upstairs I did not see any filth on him—he did not smell of filth or of urine.

By the JURY. He was carried down the stairs head foremost by his legs and arms—there were 27 or 28 men in the room.

ALFRED HART , M.R.C.S. I saw Blatch on the Monday after the alleged assault—he was suffering from general nervous irritability, and complained of a pain in his left side and left leg—he had several sores on his legs; old ones for which I had attended him before—his system had received a severe shock—he had varicose veins on his legs—the sores on his legs appeared to have been caused by the rubbing of the varicose veins,

recently done—a rope placed round the leg and slipping would have caused it—it was a scrape—I prescribed for him—I saw him in bed again on Wednesday at his house—he appeared to be very ill indeed—he is still under my care.

Cross-examined. I have since heard that he fell from his cart—the scraping I saw might have been caused by such a fall, and also the pain in the ribs—he did not tell me it was caused by a fall from the cart—the amount of carbon inhaled in a fog would not make you very lively—it would slightly lower the vitality—I should think the heat of the messroom would restore his vitality—he is not a very strong man—if there were any impediment to his circulation he might be more likely to faint after being out in the fog—varicose veins would have nothing to do with his heart—a man recovering from a faint is in a halfconscious condition, but I do not consider that he would be likely to have imagined a number of things as we do when recovering from sleep—a man under such circumstances has a perverted brain, and would be in a transition state—recovering from a faint would be much slower than from sleep—I do not think a man would imagine anything on recovering from a faint—I draw a distinction between recovering from sleep and recovering from a faint—I have read many books on the matter—I have never read Sir Benjamin Brodie on psychology—men who are not lunatics imagine things when the brain is poisoned by alcohol—I cannot say if I put my finger in water on waking from sleep that it would give rise to all kinds of imaginary thoughts, I do not think it would—I have never studied the origin of dreams.

Re-examined. Being out in the fog would not produce the state in which I found him.

THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Police Sergeant E). On 6th February I went with Berry to Smith and Sons' stables in Wardour Street, where I saw all the prisoners except Lambert—I told them I had an order for their arrest for assaulting a man named Arthur Blatch in the stables on the Saturday previous—Selway said, "All I did to him was to put a little water over him with a sponge, as he was in a fit and I wanted to bring him to"—I then went to 89, Holborn, and saw Lambert—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest for being concerned with others in assaulting Blatch—he said nothing.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ROBERT COOKE . I am a porter in Messrs. Smith and Sons' service, and have been so for 17 years—I know Selway, Punter, and Lambert—it is the custom amongst the men to threaten to "tank" any man who is late, but they do not do so—they fine him so much beer, and some I have seen have their heads dipped in—I know Blatch by sight—I was in the stable yard when he was carried into the stables—I saw him brought down the stairs—I have no enmity towards him, or any friendship towards the prisoners—two men carried him; one had hold of his arms, and one of his feet, and they were apparently carrying him down steadily—I did not see any halters or ropes round him—I advised them to wet him, because I thought he was in a fit—he was not wetted with urine, but clean water that the horses drink—I did not see filth put on his face; I must have seen it if it had been done while I was there—I saw everything from the time he was brought down until he was brought to.

Cross-examined. He was not injured at all by anybody in my sight, and as far as I saw he was taken up tenderly and treated with care—I do not know what took place up in the messroom—I did not hear one of the men make a speech—only three took him downstairs that I saw—he was only wetted with a sponge, which we used for his face.

HENRY GOSLING . I am a driver in Messrs. Smith and Sons' service, and have been so about a year and nine months—I have never been put into the tank—I was never fined—I was carried to the tank for taking somebody's tools—they sometimes threaten to take any man to the tank who is habitually late—I do not recollect them telling Blatch that they were going to take him to the tank—I did not tell him on the Saturday morning that somebody outside had threatened to put him into the tank—he came into the stables on Saturday morning and was grumbling about something, and said somebody outside had threatened to put him in the tank—he pulled out a knife from his pocket and said he intended to take his own part and rip up the first man that interfered with him—he showed me his boots, and said that he had a good pair of boots on and knew how to use them—I went up into the messroom where he was, and I heard somebody say something about his being late at the Holborn Viaduct—he had been late on his journeys, and the prisoners had to do his stable work in consequence—I heard them threaten to put him in the tank—he was sitting on the form, and he got up and said that he should take his own part, and the others got up, and then he fainted—I saw him carried downstairs—the men did not bind him with halters and ropes—he was carried down in the ordinary way—I used the sponge to him—I put the sponge in the tank; while I was there the sponge was never put in urine, nor was any filth smeared over him—as far as I could see he was treated kindly.

Cross-examined. We were anxious to treat him kindly from first to last, and he was never assaulted or hurt; he fell down in a faint without being touched—his clothes were not changed while I was there.

Re-examined. The efforts of the men were in the direction of kindness—there were no pails of water thrown over him—he came to when we were using the sponge, and I took him for a walk up Arundel Street and Wardour Street, and he said, "I am all right now"—he did not complain to me of any pain in his hip or any sores on his legs.

GEORGE CLARK . I am foreman of the stable department at Messrs. Smith's—I saw Blatch between 11 and 12 o'clock on this morning—he did not appear to be suffering from any pain or sores.

Cross-examined. He had not made any complaint to me—he said that they intended to put him in the tank in answer to a question I put to him.

Re-examined. It is the custom there to threaten to put men in the tank, and the threat seems to keep them in good order amongst themselves.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-334
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

334. DAVID YOUNG (21), Robbery with violence on George Edward Meek, and stealing from him a watch and chain and two lockets, his property.

MR. SHERMAN Prosecuted.

GEORGE EDWARD MEEK . I am a stationer, of Crane Court, Fleet Street, and live at 41, Fulham Park Gardens—on 29 th January I was at No. 4, Pomona Place spending the evening with some friends—at about 1.30

there was a disturbance, and some mud was thrown at the window, and one of the windows broken—I went out to see who did it—I could see about 150 or 200 yards each way—I saw the prisoner and another soldier with him, and I pursued them, and asked their motive—I did not wait to put my hat or coat on—I got struck on the head with a belt and stick by both—I swear the prisoner struck me; I tried to resist it—when they saw some other gentlemen from the house pursuing them the prisoner made a snatch at my watch and chain, and jumped over the fence—the watch was found on the pavement afterwards, but the chain was gone—I swear to the prisoner—I did not assault him—I struck the other man—the prisoner did not fall—I saw the prisoner at Chelsea Barracks on 1st February, and identified him—he was turned out with a lot of men.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not send two policemen to the barracks to ask if two men came into the barracks all over dirt and mud—I spoke to the sergeant—he said he should simply turn out several of the soldiers, and see if I could identify any of them—you came out with several others—I asked your name, and you wanted to know what I was looking at you so hard for—I came to the barracks on the 3rd with two gentlemen—I asked if it were possible to try the case by court-martial—I said I did not want to be put to the inconvenience of prosecuting you, because I had got my ticket to go to America last Wednesday.

ROBERT PRESCOTT (Policeman T 161). I took the prisoner at Chelsea Barracks on 3rd February—he said "You have made a mistake this time"—I had also apprehended a man named Morris—the night of 29th January was wet and muddy—the prisoner's dress was quite clean.

Cross-examined. I told the sergeant of the guard that there was a man named Morris in custody for assault and robbery—I asked him if he had had a man come in with dirty clothes—he brought me a tunic, which I examined; it was clean—the prosecutor said that the soldier who had escaped might be dirty.

WILLIAM GOPPING . I am a gasfitter, of Kensington—on the night of 29th January I was at 4, Pomona Place with my wife, the prosecutor, and Mr. Howe—I heard something thrown at the window, and the prosecutor and Howe went out—I was in the hall putting my coat on—I followed them out, and saw the prisoner striking at the prosecutor with his belt, and then he jumped at him with one of his hands, snatching at his chain—I saw the prisoner at Chelsea Barracks on 3rd February, and I at once picked him out—I swear to him.

Cross-examined. I walked up and down the ranks twice, I think, before I picked you out—I did not say "I don't think he is there"—I did not tell the Magistrate that I could not swear you were the man—I was never in barracks before, and I was very excited—the prosecutor pointed you out afterwards.

GEORGE LILLEY . I am a sergeant in the 1st Battalion Grenadier Guards, Chelsea Barracks—I was not on guard when the prisoner came in, but by the books he came in about 2.30 on the morning of the 30th.

JOHN PULLEN . I am a sergeant in the 1st Battalion Grenadier Guards—I swear the prisoner came in at 2.80 on the morning of the 30th.

Cross-examined. You came in quite clean—you were examined and your pockets turned out, but nothing whatever was found—two policemen came and asked if any one had come in with dirty clothes, and I said one man had come in but he was perfectly clean—there were two other men in the same battalion absent all night.

The prisoner, in his defence, said it was a dirty night, and that two policemen went to the barracks and said the man had been running across the common and jumping fences, and must have on dirty clothes, and that the prosecutor was not certain of him when he picked him out.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-335
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

335. RICHARD YORK (23) and CHARLES LEWIS (25) , Robbery with violence upon George Stewart, and stealing his watch and chain. Second Count charging Lewis with harbouring York, well knowing he had committed a felony.

MR. COUCH Prosecuted; MR. W. G. SMYTHIES defended Lewis.

GEORGE STEWART . I am a builder, of 22, Chapter Road, Lorrimore Square, Walworth—on 20th February last I was getting into an omnibus in Shoreditch when York snatched my watch and chain—I pursued him, and caught him in about 100 yards; we had a struggle, and I was knocked down two or three times, but I stuck to him till a constable came—when I first caught him the watch and chain were in his hand, but he passed them to somebody else—when I got up to York, Lewis knocked me about—I gave York in charge—I did not see a young woman with Lewis—he ran away, and a constable ran after him, and took him.

Cross-examined by York. No one was getting into the omnibus besides myself—I caught hold of you; I went down on my knees and split my trousers knee when I was knocked down; others followed when you ran up the Bethnal Green Road—you and Lewis struck me; you hit me once on the jaw—I said "Give me my watch and chain, and I will let you go"—it was passed to somebody else—I had hold of you by the collar, and tore your coat—I did not see you pass the watch—I was not particularly excited—the lamps were showing.

Cross-examined by MR. SMYTHIES. I had been at the Black Dog—I had my supper there; I had to meet a gentleman from Maidstone there that night—I did not say before the Magistrate that several persons were round the omnibus; it was a Kingsland omnibus, and it was about 12 o'clock—I cannot say how many were in it—the first I saw of Lewis was when he was striking me—I was struck in several parts of the body—that was after I ran after York—I did not see Lewis till I was in Bethnal Green Road; I was hit in the face and the back of the head—I did not notice whether Lewis had been drinking.

By the JURY. Lewis attacked me directly I got up in pursuit of York—I cannot say whether he had any knowledge of why I was struggling with York.

JOHN HOLT . I live at 35, Appleby Street, Shoreditch—I was passing Bethnal Green Road on 20th February, and saw Stewart struggling with the prisoners on the ground—York was leaning on his legs and Lewis trying to rifle his pockets—York put his hands up towards Stewart's stomach, and Lewis was leaning on his head—I did not see him strike him—I saw no watch—there were very few persons about—I assisted in pulling York off—Lewis struck me in the face—my knees were injured by being thrown down.

Cross-examined by York. I will not swear that you were trying to put your hands in Stewart's pockets, but you were leaning on his legs and put your hands up to his stomach—I did not see you assault him—you did not assault me.

Cross-examined by MR. SMYTHIES. I said before the Magistrate that I saw Lewis leaning on the prosecutor's head—I swear I did not put my hands on anybody to strike them—I laid hold of York—Lewis I did not do anything with; I had my work to do with York.

Re-examined. I did not use more violence than was necessary.

PAUL HOLMAR (Policeman H 151). On 20th February I was on duty in Bethnal Green Boad, and heard cries of "Police" and "Help," and I went to where they proceeded from, and found Stewart had got York on the ground—Lewis was on the other side of the way running—I took York in custody—I did not find anything on him—I saw some people about there—I did not notice any woman with Lewis—York did not say anything when I took him—when he was charged he said "It was not me, it was a man twice as big as I am. "

Cross-examined by York. You were on the ground with the prosecutor when I came up—I did not see you assault anybody—I did not see the robbery committed.

JAMES HUSKINS (Policeman H 174). I was on duty in High Street Boad which runs across Bethnal Green Road, and saw Stewart on the ground on the top of York, holding him to the ground—Stewart said something to me and I went after Lewis, who ran away—I went after him; he turned round and faced me, and when I got hold of him he threw himself on the ground and tried to throw me—I took him in custody—in reply to the charge he said "I just came out of Richardson's public-house and was making water when I was taken in custody; what for I do not know"—Richardson's public-house is in the middle of the street—I did not gee any woman with Lewis; he was sober.

Cross-examined by York. I never saw you assault the prosecutor.

Cross-examined by MR. SMYTHIES. When I saw Stewart with York on the ground I asked him if there was any other man—York was then under him—Lewis was sober.

York's Statement before the Magistrate. "I came out of a public-house and saw the prosecutor go to a 'bus, followed by two men, one much bigger than I, and I saw one man run fiom the 'bus up the Bethnal Green Road, and the prosecutor followed him, and the other man attempted to trip him up and he fell. He got up and ran after the man. I followed behind the prosecutor. The prosecutor overtook the man, who stopped, and just as I got up the other man ran up against the prosecutor and knocked him down. The first man ran back towards Shoreditch, and I walked down to see which way he went, and somebody got hold of me from behind, and said 'This is the man, and he has my watch.' I had at the time my pipe with a metal cover in my hand. A constable came up charged me. "

York, in his defence, said that he came out of a public-house at the corner of Church Street, at about 11.55, and, while lighting his pipe, saw the prosecutor making for an omnibus, and two men followed him, and as he was getting in a bigger man than himself ran away towards Bethnal Green Mood, and the prosecutor ran after him; when the man tripped him up, that he (the prisoner) ran across with his pipe in his hand, which had a metal top to it, and the prosecutor said something to him, and he felt somebody seize him from behind, who said "This is the man who has got my watch;" that he tried to get away

and they both fell; that he was taken to the station, and five minutes after Lewis was brought in, whom he had never seen before.

YORK— GUILTY. Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

LEWIS— GUILTY on the Second Count. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction in July, 1875, at this Court.Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-336
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

336. JAMES BURROWS (26) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James Thoms, with intent to steal.

MR. DALTON Prosecuted.

GEORGE ALFRED DAWSON (City Policeman 291). I was on dutyin Aldersgate Street on 27th February, at about 12.45, and saw the prisoner leaning against a lamppost encircling it with his left arm; as I went past him he shammed being drunk—I went away and doubled and went back and hid myself—I saw the prisoner going towards Black Horse Yard; he turned back and came towards me, and I waited to see what he wanted outside the Aldersgate Street Hotel, when he deliberately struck the window with his fist and smashed it into splinters, and seized hold of a leg of mutton with both hands inside and tried to get it clear of the window—his right arm was cut and was dressed at the station by the divisional doctor—I took him in custody.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You could not take the mutton down as the hook fastened to the bar inside bent and resisted your pulling it away—five nights before I cautioned you about loitering, and said if I saw you again I should charge you, and you went down towards Barbican; that is the reason I concealed myself on this occasion, to watch you—I do not know you—you told me you had a brother, and I asked you how he was getting on.

EMILY THOMS . I am the wife of James Thoms, who keeps the Aldersgate Street Hotel, which is our dwelling-house—this mutton was ours.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I had had too much to drink and I fell against the window. "

Prisoner's Defence. I had a drop too much to drink. I had no intention of stealing anything. I was never in this position before. I broke the window by accident.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-337
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

337. JOHN DAVIS DUEANT (52) , Feloniously marrying Mary Ann Hemming during the life of his wife.

MR. POYNTER, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.


THIRD COURT.—Friday, March 3 rd, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

MR. HEWICK Prosecuted.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-338
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

338. HENRY BARBER (25) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l., with intent to defraud.

WILLIAM WALTER STEVENS . I keep the White Horse and Cross Keys, Goswell Road, St. Luke's—the prisoner asked me to cash this cheque for him. (Read: "Gloucestershire Banking Company, Moreton-in-Marsh. Pay Mr. Reed or order 50.—John Chater." Endorsed F. G. Reed.) I did so and paid it on January 30th to Truman—I received it back on 6th February marked, as it is now, "no account. "

GEORGE LEE COLLIER . I keep the White Hart public-house, Middleton

Street—about 16th January the prisoner asked me to change this cheque for him (Bated January 13th, 1882, upon the same bank. "Pay ourselves or order 8l. 10s.—Edward Barton." Crossed G. L. Collier, London and County, Holborn, and endorsed F. G. West.) I cashed it and endorsed it and paid it into the Holborn Branch of the London and County Bank the same day; it was returned marked "No account"—about a fortnight afterwards I told the prisoner the cheque was bad, there was no account, and I should expect him to refund the money; he said" I will endeavour to do so. "

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do not recollect that you asked me to oblige your friend—I gave you the money, and you kept 2l. and gave the rest to the other party, saying "That 2l. has been owing two years"—you brought another one afterwards for 7l. 15s., which I refused to change.

REGINALD LANGFORD BAKER . I am the manager of the Gloucester Banking Company, of Moreton-in-Marsh—these cheques (produced) were presented through our agents at the Union Bank, one on 2nd February—it was marked "No account" the same day; they are fictitious; we received. 12 of them—one Government stamp is dated 1879; 187 is printed; the 7 is obliterated and 8 put over it—we have no other means of knowing when the cheques were issued—there are no numbers—I have no knowledge of the prisoner—we have no customer named Edward Barton.

WALTER HENRY COATES . I am a gas-fitter and brass-finisher at 5, Percival Street, Clerkenwell—I have known the prisoner since November—I have frequently seen him write—to the best of my belief these cheques are his writing.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have not said the cheque is your writing.

By the COURT. On the 16th the prisoner came into my shop and said "My friend has just come from the country, and he owes me 2l.; will you come to Mr. Stevens ?"—I said it was no use, as it was a heavy cheque, and Mr. Stevens always went to the bank the first thing on Monday morning—then he said "Well, we will go to my friend Mr. Collier, in Middleton Street," and they went away.

WILLIAM WALTER STEVENS (Re-examined). I believe the prisoner's wife was present when the prisoner came to me—one or two young men used to come with him, but who they were I don't know.

ROBERT BOULBY (Detective Officer G). On 6th February, about 6.30 p. m., I took the prisoner on the charge—he said" All right, I am very sorry, I have been led into this by a man named West. "

Cross-examined. I am sure you said "All right. "

The prisoner in his defence said that a man named named West had borrowed 2l. of him, and that he took him to yet the cheques changed not knowing that thy were forged and that not a particle of his writing was on them.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-339
VerdictsNot Guilty > no evidence; Not Guilty > unknown

Related Material

339. HENRY BARBER was again indicted for forging and uttering an order for the payment of 8l. 10s . Also on another indictment for unlawfully obtaining from George Lee Collier 8l. 10s., and from William Walter Stevens 5l., by false pretences, upon which no evidence was offered.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-340
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

340. JOHN MURPHY (27) , Robbery with violence on Alfred James Round, and stealing a watch, his property.

MR. CUNNINGHAM Prosecuted.

ALFRED JAMES ROUND . I am a gas inspector, and live at 6, Wellclose Square, St. George's-in-the-East—about 10.10 p.m. on the 18th January I was in Leman Street, Whitechapel; when I was opposite Brown Bear Court tho prisoner came up to me and caught hold of my watch-guard and took my watch from me; I seized him; he threw me on the ground by putting his foot across my legs—two others were there—they all held up their fists, and I let the prisoner go; he ran down the Court into Mill Yard and I and a constable pursued him—I gave information to the police at Leman Street Station—I was taken there on the 9th and picked the prisoner out from eight or ten others—I said to him "If you will give me my watch I will not prosecute you"—I value it at 2l.—I felt the injury at the bottom of my back for about a week—the fall was rather heavy.

DAVID BURNS . I am a shoeblack, of 42, Manson Street, Whitechapel on 8th February, about 10.15 pjn., I was in Leman Street; I saw the prisoner with two others; one was bigger, with a hard hat, and the other had a felt hat with a long coat—I stood in a doorway and watched them—the prisoner stood on the kerb till the gentleman passed, when he snatched his chain—they fell to the ground—the gentleman said "Give me my watch"—they all held up their fists and told the gentleman to let the prisoner go or else they would strike him; the prisoner was let go and ran into the Mill Yard—I saw the prosecutor and a constable run after the prisoner—I have seen the prisoner before, often—I know he is the man who took the gentleman's watch—I gave information to the police the same night, about four o'clock.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I live in the same quarter as you used to live.

JOSEPH NEWMAN (Policeman H). I received information, and took the prisoner the following morning about 3 o'clock; he said "I know nothing about it"—afterwards when I got him dressed he said "I was drinking in Clark's wich my mother"—that is a public house close to where I arrested him—I took him to Leman Street Station, where he was placed with others—later on the same day Mr. Round identified him without hesitation.

ANNE HARRILD . I live at 16, Welsh Place, Whitechapel, with my parents—I was standing at the top of our court, and could see into Leman Street—I saw the prosecutor and a sergeant running—I saw the prisoner and another running—the prisoner looked at me, and I stopped and looked at him, because just before that I was coming through the court and a female halloed out "Oh, you wretch"—I saw the prisoner twice—I have no doubt he is the man.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I beg for mercy. I am an unfortunate subject to fits, and no one will keep me. I do not plead guilty to stealing the watch, only the chain, that is all. "

The Prisoner's Defence. I h»ve been subject to fits, and was suffering from hunger, and had to do something. Have mercy, and give me one more chance, and I promise to reform.

GUILTY . **†

He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in October, 1871,— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-341
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

341. WILLIAM AGER (19) , Robbery with violence on Elizabeth Langford, and stealing a purse and 7s. 6d., her property.



ELIZABETH LANGFORD . I am a barmaid, and live at 262, Waterloo Road, Lambeth—on Wednesday night, 8th February, I had been to the Royal Albert Docks to see a friend who was on board the Mira—I did not see him because the ship had gone out before I got there—I arrived at the docks about 9.30 at the latest—I was returning along Canton Street, Poplar—I saw the prisoner leaning against the railings of a house on the left-hand side of the street—he asked me if I would help him to a night's lodging, as he was a stranger in London, just come up from the country, and did not know where to go—I took compassion on him, and gave him 6d.—I was carrying my purse in my bosom—he took the sixpence, and before I could get my purse back again he put his hand on my throat and took it away—I was not able to shout at first—a window on the opposite side of the street was opened—I screamed "Police" and "Murder," and the prisoner ran away—he thrust me up against the railings, and I could not speak for a little while; I was rendered almost senseless—a policeman came up, and I gave him a description of the prisoner, and showed him the way he had gone—we walked till we met another policeman, and the first spoke to the other—about a quarter of an hour after the policeman brought the prisoner into Ellesmere Street—I said "That is the man"—I had no doubt—he said "I have not got any money about me"—I had in my purse 7s. in silver and 6d. in bronze.

Cross-examined. I left Waterloo about 10.30 a. m.—I did not know my way, and I went to several places wrong—I got to Poplar about 3 p.m.—I was going all day—I took a bus at the end of Fleet Street to St. Paul's Churchyard, where I got out and took another to Poplar—I never went into any house till I got to Poplar—I went into a public-house where the bus stopped, and had some bread and cheese and a glass of stout—then I walked over the iron bridge to Canning Town Station; then I took a ticket to the Custom House Station, and then to the Royal Docks—when I found the ship had gone I came back—I went out of my way several times—I wandered about the streets—it was 1.30 a. m. when the prisoner spoke to me—I have been a barmaid at the Spring Grove Hotel, Kingston-onThames—my mistress left, and I went to live in the Waterloo Road—I was not in employment at this time; I had left the Spring Grove Hotel about a fortnight—I am engaged to be married in April.

Re-examined. I left my situation because the proprietor sold the hotel, and I did not like the next people—I do not know London well—I am not certain of the time I left home.

GEORGE CLANFIELD (Policeman K 285). On Wednesday morning, 8th Feb., I received information from some one at a window opposite where the prosecutrix was—I went in the direction she told me—from her description I apprehended the prisoner outside 54, Walker Street, Bromley—I said "You will have to come with me;" he said "Very well, I will go with you"—he went into Ellesmere Street till we saw the prosecutrix; she said "That is the man"—I said" You will be charged with robbing this young woman; "the prisoner said" I have not a penny piece about me"—I took

him to the station, where he said to the prosecutrix "I am charged with stealing a purse from you. "

Cross-examined. Nothing was found on him—she did not pick him out, I had him in custody—I have ascertained that he was living where I saw him—he bears a very good character.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-342
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

342. THOMAS SIMPSON, Feloniously marrying Mary Ann Elizabeth Coombs, his wife being alive.


JOHN WESTON . I produce a marriage certificate from St. Pancras parish church. (MR. WILLIAMS objected to this certificate, as it was not proved, and it was not put in.)

SOPHIA KELLY . I am a widow, living at 1, Glyn Street, Regent's Park—my sister was married to the prisoner—she lived with him five years, but never afterwards—that was 25 years ago.

MR. WILLIAMS submitted that there was no evidence to go to the Jury, and the COMMON SERJEANT, after consultation with MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS and the RECORDER, held that the evidence was not sufficient.


THIRD COURT.—Saturday, March 4 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-343
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

343. GEORGE WILKINS (19) and HENRY ISAACS (20) , Robbery on Thomas Anderson, and stealing 2s. 1d. his money.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. WILLES defended Isaacs.

THOMAS ANDERSON . I am a porter, of 10, Deal Street, Mile End—on 6th February I was near the Assembly Hall, Mile End, between 11.30 and 12 p.m.—Wilkins and three or four others stopped me—Wilkins said "We want some money towards a lodging"—another one with him pulled out 2d. and said that he wanted 2d. more towards a lodging—I gave the man two halfpence and said that was all I had—no sooner had I taken my hand out of my right-hand trousers pocket than Wilkins put his hand in—my money was loose in my pocket—I tried to get away, but was thrown on my back, and Wilkins took a shilling, two sixpences, and one penny out of my pocket—I saw George Stout when I got up—the prisoner and the others went across the road—I do not recognise Isaacs.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I had seen Isaacs before by the Pavilion Theatre—there were four or five of them—I said at the police court it was between 11.30 and 12 o'clock—at 6.30 I was at Whitechapel Church—I went to St. Paul's, and afterwards up the Strand—I did not go anywhere to have a glass.

Re-examined. I was sober.

GEORGE STOUT . I am a china dealer, of 2, Buck's Road—I was returning home on 6th February, between 11.30 and 12—I saw the prosecutor against the Assembly Hall—he complained to me—I saw some lads cross the road—I had not seen the prisoners before that evening—I saw them at the coffee-stall between 12 and 12.30.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I saw about half a dozen at the coffeestall—that is about five minutes' walk from the Assembly Rooms—there

were two or three girls—there is always a crowd there—I went for a policeman—I am thinking about my own case—I was knocked down.

HENRY BRENCHLEY (Policeman K 498). On 5th February Anderson complained to me about 12 o'clock—he described two men, and I went with Stout to a coffeestall in the Whitechapel Road—that was about 12.5—I saw the prisoners there and two females—I said to Anderson and Stout, "Do these answer to the description you have given me of those who assaulted you in the Whitechapel Road?"—they both said" Yes"—Anderson said both were there—I charged them with assaulting Anderson and Stout—the prisoners each said," I know nothing about it"—I found on Wilkins 1s. 6d. and 11d. in. bronze and these keys.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. I heard Anderson say to Isaacs at the police-court," I do not know you"—the coffeestall is two or three minutes' walk from the Assembly Hall—Norris was with me.

ROBERT NORRIS (Policeman K 139). I was on duty—I saw. the prisoners about 11.15 in a crowd—there was a street fight, and we had two prisoners in custody.

Cross-examined by Wilkins. You struck at me with this belt; I had my truncheon, and warded it off—that was in the Whitechapel Road—you struck at me five or six times from Whitechapel Railwaystation to Bray Street—that was about eight minutes' walk from the street fight, and five minutes from the railwaystation—Isaacs threw a brick.

Isaac's Statement before the Magistrate, "I know nothing about it. I was at the stall having coffee, and never left it."

Wilkins's Defence. If I had done a robbery I should not have stopped in that place. I am a general dealer, and have a wife and two children. They left 4s. 6d. in my pocket when I was searched.

WILKINS— GUILTY of robbery .— Two Years' Hard Labour.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-344
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

344. GEORGE WILKINS and HENRY ISAACS were again indicted for robbery with violence on George Stout, and stealing 3s. 5d. his money,

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. WILLES defended Isaacs.

GEORGE STOUT . I was right opposite the Assembly Hall when Wilkins struck me on the side of my head and knocked me down, and Isaacs, Wilkins, and others kicked me while I was down—directly I got up Isaacs caught me by the hand and shook hands with me and said," I have not done anything, have I, old pal?"—I had 5s. 8d. loose in the pence pocket of my coat, and I had 2s. 3d. left—I heard a rattle of money on the ground—that was between 12 and 12.30—the prisoners were charged with assaulting Anderson and assaulting and robbing me—they were given in custody—at Bethnal Green Station they asked me to make it light for them because they had wives and children.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I did not hear Anderson say at the police-court that he was robbed at 12.30; he said 11.30—I said I was going home between 11 and 12 o'clock, not 12.30—we said it was 12.30 when the prisoners were given in custody—I did not take particular notice of the time—when we were set upon we followed them; it is their mistake—I cannot tell you how many there were; two or three—it was between two lamps; it was dark—I had 6s. at a private house in Stepney Green when I started from Dalston by tram—I had been to a friend—I had had two or

three glasses, and we had a pot of beer between four or five of us, and a pint of mildandbitter with the ladies—I counted my money when I got to the station—I was on the ground two or three minutes.

Re-examined. I have no doubt about the prisoners; I have seen them before.

ROBERT NORRIS (Policeman K 139). I searched Isaacs and found 1s. 6d. and two halfpence on him—I was present when they were both taken at the coffeestall—I heard Stout charge them.

HENRY BRENCHY (Policeman K 498). I searched Wilkins, and found on him 1s. 6d. and 11d. in bronze and this key.

THOMAS ANDERSON . I saw Stout assaulted opposite the Assembly Hall by the same men who assaulted me—we went across the road, and Wilkins struck Stout on the side of the head and knocked him down—I could not swear that Wilkins kicked him—he was kicked.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I am not sure that Isaacs was there—it was between 11.30 and 12 o'clock—I was standing just by the Earl Grey public-house.

Cross-examined by Wilkins. You hit Stout on the left side of the head.

Wilkins's Defence. I am innocent.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-345
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

345. GEORGE WILKINS and HENRY ISAACS were again indicted for unlawfully assaulting Thomas Anderson and George Stout, with intent to do them grievous bodily harm, upon which no evidence was offered.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-346
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

346. JOHN TRUSTY (24) , Feloniously wounding Antonio Adamis on the high seas.


ANTONIO ADAMIS (Interpreted). I am a seaman—I was on board the Carrier Dove, bound from Philadelphia, and sailing under the English flag—about three weeks after leaving, about 8 p.m., the prisoner asked me for some mittens—I said, "I do not give them to you because they were mine"—he went to take them from my bunk, and I pushed him—he struck me, and I struck him back—he drew his knife; I drew mine, and he tried to take it away and cut his hands—he said," You old sod, you cut me, then I cut you"—then he tried to strike me in the neck; I lifted my hand and received a blow with a knife; I fell on my back—I went afterwards to the mate; he dressed my wounds—I was unable to do anything for the rest of the voyage—when we got to Antwerp I was taken to the hospital, where I remained three weeks—then I was sent to England—I had never quarrelled with the prisoner before—this is the knife—when I left the ship I left my knife on board—it was similar to this.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You lent me no mittens—I did not steal your mittens—I did not draw a knife on you—I left my knife in my bunk—when the row was over I had no knife in my hand.

LEANDER ANTONIO . I am a seaman—I was on board the Carrier Dove—on a Sunday, about 10 days after we sailed from Philadelphia, Adamis was on the starboard watch—he went below at 4 o'clock—about 4.10 a. m. I saw him come out of the forecastle; his hand was hanging down; he passed me and went to the boatswain—he showed me his hand—I saw blood dripping on the deck—in consequence of what Adamis told me I went to the forecastle

—I saw the prisoner with the watch inside—I said, "What have you been doing?"—one of the watch said in the prisoner's presence," Antonio Adamis had his mittens, and he asked him to give them to him; Antonio said, 'I have not got your mittens.' John (the prisoner) said, 'Yes, you have got them,' and John attempted to enter Antonio's bunk to get the mittens. Antonio pushed John away, and John pushed Antonio away. Antonio drew this knife, and John went to get hold of his wrist John grabbed hold of the knife, looked at his hand, and seeing he had cut his hand said, 'You cut me, and I will cut you back.' Antonio threw his hand up, and the knife went in his wrist"—the prisoner did not speak to me; he made no reply.

FREDERICK BURGMAYER . I am an able seaman of Pennsylvania—I was cook on board the Carrier Dove—she belongs to the port of St. John's, New Brunswick—she was sailing under the English flag—she left Philadelphia on 2nd or 3rd December, for Antwerp—after about 10 or 11 days, on a Sunday, about 4 a. m., I heard a noise in the forecastle—that was about the time when the watches changed—the prisoner and Adamis belonged to the starboard watch—I heard the prisoner say that he was cutthere was so much noise I could not understand—I saw Adamis come past the galley door from the forecastle—his hand was hanging down from the wrist and bleeding—he was assisted—I afterwards saw the prisoner with his hand tied up—we had no surgeon on board, and I looked after him the rest of the voyage—he was not able to do any duty—we sent him to the hospital—I knew of no illfeeling between the men—I sent home the prisoner and the witnesses by the English consul to have the matter dealt with by the English courts.

HENRY MEAD (Policeman H 66). On 14th January I was at Leman Street Policestation, when the prisoner was brought there by an officer of the General Steam Navigation Company—he said" This man is charged with assaulting and cutting Antonio Adamis, on board the Carrier Dove"—he handed me the papers, and the charge was entered in the usual way for cutting and wounding Antonio Adamis—it was read over to him—he said" He stole my mittens, and I went to his bunk for them, and he said he had not got them; I tried to force my way into the bunk to get them and he cut me with a knife; I then said 'You have cut me, now I will cut you'"—he was taken before the Magistrate.

GEORGE BAXTER PHILLIPS . I am divisional surgeon to the H Division of Police—on 25th January I examined Adamis's hand—it was paralysed owing to an injury received by some sharp instrument, which penetrated from the back to the fore part of the left wrist—I have seen him more than twice since—in my opinion the paralysis will improve, but never sufficiently to allow him to follow his calling—the blow must have been inflicted with great force—by the Magistrate's desire, at the police-court I examined the prisoner's hand—there was a scar across one finger, which had been cut by some sharp instrument—it could have been done by drawing a knife through the hand.

The Prisoner in his defence said that he lent Adamis a pair of mittens, and when hie other pair was wet he asked for them back, when Adamis said he had not got them; then he went to get them out of the bunk and Adamis had a knife, he did not know what he was going to do with it and pushed him back, when he was cut through the hand.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-347
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

347. ALEXANDER BUCHANAN (17) and JOHN FITZGERALD (17) , Robbery on John Samuel Clay, and stealing a watch and chain and bunch of keys, his property.

MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH defended Buchanan, MR. WILME defended Fitzgerald.

JOHN SAMUEL CLAY . I live at 49, Bartholomew Road, Kentish Town—on 8th February I was walking up Great St. Andrew Street about 12 o'clock—when I got near Seven Dials suddenly I saw three men or lads; Buchanan pushed or rushed towards me, and I looked at him, then I looked to my right and saw Fitzgerald; at the same time I received a blow in my face from Fitzgerald over my nose and was knocked backwards—I saw his right hand grasping my chain—they ran across the Dials—I lost my cnain and swivel—I spoke to 62 E—I missed a bunch of keys from my right trousers pocket—I afterwards went to the policestation and identified Fitzgerald from six or seven—on that night he was wearing a greenish grey overcoat and a wideawake hat—the second time I passed him I had his hat put on—I have no hesitation in saying they are the men.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I had had a glass of spirits in the afternoon, bitter in the evening, and tea between—I looked at the men before my spectacles were knocked off—I afterwards found I had made a mistake in my excitement, and that my watch was safe—the constable brought Buchanan up and showed him to me—he said "You don't call me a man?" then I altered the word to "lad"—the inspector might have turned me out of the station for being drunk, but not as you put it.

Cross-examined by MR. WILME. I described them both as young men—I hesitated to make quite certain—I had no doubt—when Fitzgerald put his hat on I knew him.

Re-examined. I was sober enough to recognise any one who gave me a blow.

ALFRED UDLOFF . I am a compositor, of 22, High Street, St. Giles's—on 8th February I was in St. Andrew's Street, about six yards behind Clay—he was struck down by three lads with their fists—they ran across the road—I saw their backs—they passed by a lamppost—I have no doubt the prisoners are the men.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I was six yards off—Clay had had a glass—he was not intoxicated—he said he had been assaulted by young men—I would not swear to the expression he used—he seemed very excited.

Cross-examined by MR. WILME. I identify the men by their clothes—I call them young men.

Re-examined. This took place right under a lamp—I could see their height.

WILLIAM BANNELL (Policeman E 62). On the night of 8th February I was on duty in Seven Dials—I saw three young men run across the road—the prisoners are two of them—Clay gave me information—I took Buchanan, and Clay charged him with assaulting him and attempting to steal his watch—he found his watch in his pocket—Buchanan made no reply—about a week afterwards I identified Fitzgerald as one of the three who ran across the road.

Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Buchanan did not say, "I know

nothing about it," nor "Nothing of the sort"—he went quietly—Clay laid he had lost his watch and chain—then he said "No; I have got it," and he let it fall on the floor—Inspector Soule took the charge—he was not going to turn Clay out of the station—he had had a drop of drink.

Cross-examined by MR. WILME. Clay was very excited—I identified Fitzgerald after Clay had—he was put with about seven lads of about the same age.

Re-examined. I have no doubt Fitzgerald is one of the three men I saw run.

THOMAS WALSH (Policeman E 485). On 15th February I saw Fitzgerald standing with about 15 others in Queen Street, Seven Dials—I said, "I want you for knocking a man down and robbing him of some articles last week"—he said, "God blind me, you won't take me"—after I had been knocked about I took him to the station—he was placed with others, and 62 E identified him—the following morning Clay identified him—I had received a description of him—another man was with him who was apprehended and escaped—a constable in plain clothes was with me.

GUILTY** of assault with intent to rob.

BUCHANAN PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in March, 1881, at Clerkenwell in the name of George Bell.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

OLD COURT.—Saturday, March 4 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-348
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

348. MAGGIE NATTRASS, Feloniously attempting to set fire to the dwelling-house of John Alexander, on Jan. 12, he and others being therein, by setting fire to certain things in the said dwelling-house. Second Count, with intent to injure and defraud.

MR. BURNIE Prosecuted; MR. THORNS COLE Defended.

JOHN ALEXANDER . I am a grocer, of 140, Essex Road, Islington—the prisoner came into my service as general servant on the evening of 2nd January—I had another servant, a nursemaid, named Chipperfield—on 10th January the prisoner gave notice to leave at the end of her month, my wife gave her notice—on 12th January we had a fire in our bedroom between 9 and 10 in the evening—Chipperfield said something to me on this evening, and I went up to my bedroom and found the bed and bedding on fire; the valence alongside the bed was in flames, the counterpane was burning, and the sheets and blankets damaged; also the pillows and mattress, and an Eider down quilt—I thought at the time that the fire had been caused by a coal flying out from the fire; we had a fire in our bedroom that night—it was three or four feet from the bed—the prisoner assisted in carrying up water to put out the fire—on Saturday evening, the 14th, about 8.30, we had another fire, in the back parlour—one of my assistants gave the alarm—I noticed a reflection in the shop, and I went in, and found a horse with linen before the fire in flames, and a blind about 9 or 10 feet on a skylight above was burning—the room is about 11 or 12 feet high—the wainscoting of the room was scorched and burnt near where the linen was; it appeared to have been scorched from the burning linen—I asked the prisoner how that fire occurred—she said she did not know anything about it—at 9 next morning, Sunday, 15th; we had another

fire, in the kitchen—I went in and saw a sheet burning hanging on a chair about four feet away from the fire; the prisoner was in the room—I put that fire out—I inquired how it occurred—she said she did not know—about 1 or 2 in the afternoon we had another fire—my wife smelt something burning; I went into the kitchen and found an apron belonging to the prisoner in flames hanging on a nail, upon which was a waterproof and some other garment belonging to the nursemaid, on a meatsafe about 10 feet from the fire—there was smoke in the kitchen—the prisoner was upstairs when that fire was discovered—I put it out—my wife gave the alarm on the stairs, and the prisoner came down—I inquired how the fire happened—she said she did not know—about 5 o'clock that day as I was going upstairs I noticed a very bright light in the nursery—I went in and found a horse with clothes on fire, and scarcely any fire in the grate—the horse was between two and three feet in front of the grate—I inquired of the prisoner how that occurred—she said she did not know, but everything she touched seemed to catch fire—about 7 I went into the nursery again; the prisoner was in the room—I then found the bed and bedding on fire—the bed was on the opposite side of the room to the fire, about six feet from the fireplace, and there was not a spark of fire in the grate—the fire was about the centre of the bed, on the top, the counterpane and blankets were partially destroyed, and the side of the bed—I asked the prisoner how it occurred; how she did it—she made no reply—I sent for a constable, and she was given into custody.

Cross-examined. About two months before the prisoner came into our service a pillow accidentally caught fire before the fire on the kitchen fender—Chipperfield was then in the service—our general servant then was Louisa Harlow—she was afterwards discharged, but not in connection with that fire—she was blamed for carelessness; she was not charged with the fire—I was not present when that fire was discovered; she was not accused of causing it—a shop blind in my warehouse was also on fire before the prisoner entered our service; that was about the end of October or the beginning of November; that Was when Chipperfield was in the service—it was through a gas bracket under the blind; the bracket was turned the wrong way, and it set fire to the blind—I said so at the police-court, and that that fire was never explained—the next fire after that was the pillow catching fire—during the time Chipperfield was in my employment we had two general servants, Harlow and one called Elizabeth; they were both discharged, one at the end of October and one on 31st December—Harlow went away at 9 o'clock; she had notice in the morning; I believe besides the fire we had several things brokenElizabeth did not suit us—when the prisoner came into our service we received a very fair character with her, I believe from a Mrs. Walton—I believe it was a six months' character—our bedroom is on the second floor; the diningroom is on the basement—our bed was between three and four feet from the fire—we have fire screens, but they were not on—Chipperfield was the first person who gave the alarm, between 9 and 10 o'clock on Thursday, the 12 th—she gave alarm twice, I believe—the nursery is on the first floor—I did not hear Chipperfield accuse the prisoner of setting the things on fire—the prisoner's general answer when I asked how the fires occurred was "I don't know"—about the last fire she made

no reply—I do not know who lighted the fire in our bedroom that night; I believe the nurse took a fender up—I don't know how many times she went up into that room before she gave the alarm of fire—she took the fender up before she gave the alarm—I don't know whether she then came down and went up a second time—I don't know where the prisoner was then; she assisted to carry water up—I heard on Tuesday, the 10th, that the prisoner was to leave; I can't tell whether she gave notice or not—on the Sunday afternoon I was at home the nurse went out about 3 o'clock, and I let her in about 4.40 or 4.45, and she went upstairs—no fire occurred while she was out.

Re-examined. The fire in the warehouse was about two months before the prisoner came into our service—it was quite an accident—the pillow was on a fender close to the fire, and what we blamed the servant for was carelessness in putting it too close to the fire.

By the JURY. When I found the prisoner in the room she was not attempting to put the fire out—she had been sent into the room with the nurse, she to see to the children's bed, and the nurse to light the fire—the nurse was downstairs, and in her absence the bed was on fire—the prisoner gave the alarm by screaming, and in a second I was in the room—at the last fire the bedding caught fire in the centre of the bed—the bed itself was scorched on one side as though something had been held to it—the fire was in two separate places.

EDWARD WARNE . I am assistant to the prosecutor and lodge in the house—I remember the fire on Saturday night, the 14th, about 9.45 p.m.—after that fire the prisoner called me to the kitchen door and asked me what I thought about the fires—I said "I think it very strange that we should have two fires so soon after each other"—referring to the fires on the 12th, she said "Dear me, I expect before I go the place will be burnt down. "

Cross-examined. I don't remember her saying that she did not understand the fires—I did not say so at the police-court—my deposition was read over and I signed it—I did say "She said she could not understand the fires as well as me."

ANNIE ALEXANDER . I am the prosecutor's wife—the prisoner came into our service on 2nd January, as general servant—I gave her notice on the 10th—on the 12th there was a fire in my bedroom; I did not see it—I sent water up; the prisoner assisted in carrying it up. together with the nurse—half an hour after it was put out the same fire broke out again—the prisoner gave the alarm on that occasion—on the Sunday night she said several times she could not tell how it was, everything she touched turned to fire, she thought she was bewitched—she said that to me three or four times.

Cross-examined. I received a very good character with her from Mrs. Walton—the lady said among other things that she was fairly trustworthy—I was at home at supper on Tuesday night, the 12th—I ordered the prisoner to light a fire in the bedroom, soon after 8 o'clock—I can't say whether she did light it, I was not in the room—I believe the nurse took the fender up; I told her to do so, and I think she did so directly, within a few minutes—I saw the prisoner downstairs afterwards and before the alarm of fire—the nurse went up again—sometimes the nurse and the

prisoner changed duties and helped each other—I was not at home in the early part of Sunday—I was at home when the nurse went out, about 2.45, but not when she came back—I gave the prisoner a month's noticeshe said she would go, and I said "Yes, you leave this day month"—that was the notice.

SUSAN CHIPPERFIELD . I am 17 years of age, and am nurse at Mr. Alexander's—on Thursday, 12th January, I was going upstairs, and pushed open the bedroom door; I saw the bed on fire—there was a fire in the grate at the time, the prisoner had lighted that; I had not been into the room before—I remember the fire on the Saturday in the back parlour, when my mistress was out—she had told me to look at the clothes before the fire, to see that they were all right, before she went out; I did look at it about half an hour before the fire—I then went downstairs, and then up to the nursery; the prisoner was there, she had been down to the back parlour—I told her while in the nursery that the supper was laid all right, and she left me—in about a quarter of an hour she came up again, and stayed about a minute, and then went down again; she then opened the landing door, and said "There is another fire"—I went to the landing door with her, and saw the smoke coming from downstairs—I did not go down; I went back to the nursery, and stayed there about 10 minutes, and when the fire was put out I went down.

Cross-examined. It was about 9.30 on Thursday night, the 12 th, that I discovered the fire; that was the first time—I had gone in after the fire was lighted; it was not my duty light it—I took the fender into the bedroom; I got it out of the back parlour; I then went to the nursery, and stayed there about 20 minutes—I had gone downstairs to help the prisoner cook some fish upon the gasstove—I have been in Mr. Alexander's service fix months—I was in an industrial school before that; my father paid for me there—before that I was apprenticed to the dressmaking for two years with Mrs. Bright, of Grafton Road, Seven Sisters Road—I stayed with her six months; she did not send me away; I did not stay my two years—before that I had been at boardingschool—I was living with my stepmother in Oxford Terrace—she did not send me away, she accused me of stealing half a sovereign from out of her box—I did steal it, I took it out of her box; that is more than two years ago—I denied it, but it was found in my bedroom, in my dressingtable drawer.

The evidence in this case applying to the suljject matter of another indictment (see next case), MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS directed a verdict of


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-349
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

349. MAGGIE NATTRASS was again indicted for feloniously attempting to set fire to the same dwelling-house on 15th January.

The witnesses John Alexander, Edward Warne, and Annie Alexander had their evidence in the former case read over, to which they assented.

SUSAN CHIPPERFIELD . The former evidence of this witness was read over, after which she continued:—On the following Sunday morning, 15th, I did not see the fire in the kitchen—I spoke to the prisoner about it; she said nothing—I then asked her what the piece of burnt stuff was on the floor in the kitchen; she said" Don't tell the mistress, the sheets caught on fire," and she asked me if she should shut up the burnt sheets with the things that were burnt on Saturday night—I was called away,

and when I came back my master was in the kitchen; the fire had just been put out—the sheet had caught light again—the prisoner was in the kitchen—I did not see the fire at 2 o'clock on the Sunday, nor say anything to the prisoner about it—there was a fire in the nursery about 5 o'clock—I had been out that afternoon, and came back about five minutes to 5; the fire in the nursery was out then—the prisoner was in the drawingroom, the next room—I asked her if she would put some coals on the nursery fire, and she did so—I then went upstairs, leaving her in the nursery; I came down in about three minutes, and found the horse of clothes on fire in the nursery—the prisoner was then in the drawingroom; my master was there, and he put the fire out—I had seen the things safe about three minutes before—about 5 o'clock I asked the prisoner how it was there were so many fires; she said "I don't know, I am bewitched, everything I touch seems to catch on fire"—about 7 o'clock I was in the nursery again, laying the nursery fire; the prisoner was making the nursery bed—she went downstairs—I said I was going to get some paper, and she was to go with me—she went downstairs, and I went with her, and we both came upstairs; the prisoner came up first—when she got to the nursery door she called out "Fire"—I did not look to see what was the matter; I went into the next room—I saw no more of that fire—I did not hear the prisoner say any more about it.

Cross-examined. I saw her afterwards in the drawingroom with her mistress and the prisoner's cousin—I did not hear her say anything then—about 7 o'clock I was laying the nursery fire—I did not ask the prisoner to lay it, nor did she refuse—when she went up to the nursery door she said "Why here is another fire; whatever can it be?"—in the drawingroom her cousin asked her to go and wash herself, and she said" No, I won't go; if I go there is sure to be a fire. "

By the JURY. The prisoner complained of her head—she was rather funny, and her eyes looked queer.

HENRY BROWN . I am a builder, and live at 61, Albion Road, Stoke Newington—I am a friend of the prosecutor—I was at his house on Sunday evening, January 15, about 7 o'clock—he showed me some fires that had taken place—I saw the prisoner standing in the nursery at the side of the bedstead—I went into the drawingroom—I there heard a cry of" Fire!"—I directly rushed out with Mr. Alexander into the nursery, and I assisted him to pull the things off the bed and put out the fire—the counterpane and two blankets were on fire and the spring mattress—the prisoner was in the room—there was no fire in the grate; the gas was alight; that was six or seven feet from the bedstead—I should not think the fire had been burning very long; it was not burnt very much; it only took a minute or two to stamp it out with our feet—I think some were in flames—the blankets were smouldering—I asked the prisoner why she did it—she said" I don't know how I did it; I did not do it willingly"—I said before the Magistrate that she appeared to be out of her mind—I asked her whether she had had any illness; I thought she seemed insane—Ithink so still; I don't think a sane person would have acted as she did—she said she had had rheumatic fever, and that at times her head seemed all in a muddle, and she did not know what she was doing.

EDWARD HEARNE (Police Sergeant A). I was called to the prosecutor's house on Sunday evening, 15th January, about 9 p.m.—I saw the prisoner

in the drawingroom—the prosecutor said in her presence that there had been several fires there during the day, and he should give her into custody for setting fire to the house—I told the prisoner I was a police officer, and I should have to take her into custody—she replied "I don't know what made me do it; I do not remember anything about it"—her manner seemed strange—on the way to the station she caught hold of my arm tightly—I asked her not to do it, and she let go—she said her head was bad—farther on she took my arm again and said her head ached and she had the rheumatic fever—at the station I spoke to the inspector, and Dr. Buckle, the divisional surgeon, was sent for.

Cross-examined. Her manner seemed strange, and her eyes wandered, and she clung hold of me for support.

CHARLES LANGILLY . I am an engineer in the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—I visited the prosecutor's house on the night of the 15th, and examined the premises—I found that several fires had occurred there during the day—the house itself was injured—in the back parlour on the groundfloor by the first fire on the 12th the panelwork was scorched and also the paper on the wall—there was no other damage done to the house.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. In this case no portion of the house was actually burnt, therefore you must fall back upon the enactment of 24 and 25 Vic. c. 97, sec. 7, relating to the setting fire to anything in a house under such circumstances, &c. The mere setting fire to an article in the house, which might have set fire to the house itself will not do. There must be an intent, or something from which an intent may be inferred, to injure the house. A mere intent to injure the owner by destroying his goods in the house is not sufficient. The object of the enactment was to provide against this state of things. Before the statute, to set fire to goods in a house with the express intent to burn the house did not amount to more than a misdemeanour, namely, an attempt to commit the crime of arson, unless some part of the house was actually burnt, in which case the crime amounted to arson. The real object of the statute was to make such an attempt to fire the house, by setting fire to goods in it, a felony, and not a mere misdemeanour.

MR. BURNIE. If there is the intent to injure, combined with an entirely reckless act, which would result in arson, that is the case contemplated by this section. Suppose the prisoner put coals on the centre of the bed and set fire to it with intent to injure the prosecutor, although she might not intend the house to catch fire?

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. In my opinion that would not do. If a person maliciously, with intent to injure another by merely burning his goods, sets fire to such goods in his house, that does not in my opinion amount to a felony, even though the house catches fire, unless indeed the circumstances are such as to show that the person setting fire to the goods knew that by so doing he would probably cause the house also to take fire, in which latter case there would be strong evidence that lie intended to bring about the probable consequence—viz., the burning of the house. If the prisoner put coals on the bed, and then immediately called out" Fire!" so that there, was little chance of the house being burnt, or if she spitefully set fire to the curtains, thinking that only the curtains would be burnt, but against her wish the house caught fire, would that be arson?

MR. BURNIE. No. but I submit that is not this case.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. The question is, Does not this rather show a mischievous disposition to destroy the goods, and not the house, for which she might be punished, but not upon this indictment?


OLD COURT.—Monday, March 6 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-350
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

350. JAMES HARRIS (38) and DAVID ATKINS (45) , Feloniously setting fire to the house of John Derby Allcroft, with intent to injure. Second Count for setting fire to a certain picture frame in the said house. Other Counts charging ATKINS as an accessory after the fact. MESSRS. FULTON and WEDDERBURN Prosecuted.

WILLIAM HEARN . I am a builder, and carry on business in Craven Terrace—in August last I was engaged by Mr. Allcroft to do some work at his house, 108, Lancaster Gate—the prisoner Harris was in my employ as a painter—I am acquainted with his handwriting—I believe these two letters to be his writing—I made this plan (produced) of the premises—on the morning of 14th September last year I was called to a fire at 108, Lancaster Gate, about 6.40—I found that a picture known as "The Monarch of the Meadows" had been cut out of ita frame—I had seen it on the previous afternoon, standing in the boudoir, on the first floor—the frame was partially burnt at the bottom, where it stood on the floor—there was oil or turps on the canvas at the back of the frame, also some candle grease on the lower righthand corner of the frame, and in front of the frame was this piece of one of my eloths, partially burnt; it is part or the covering that hung in front of the picture—the boudoir door leading into the drawingroom was not burnt at all—the frame had been moved—when I last saw it it was standing inside the boudoir—next morning it was standing against the wall across the doorway—it had been moved five feet—this other piece of cloth was under the frame; the frame was resting upon it; it smelt of oil, or turps, or spirit of some sort, I could not say which, the smell of burning was so strong—I found the joists of the floor burnt for a considerable distance of the length of the picture—nine of the joists were nearly burnt through, threeparts of the way down, to the depth of seven inches out of eleven—they are eleven inches by two and a half—there was an appearance of spirits or oil having been thrown on the floor, as if a train had been placed along the front of the picture, and then returned across the door at right angles with the picture, and that communicated the fire to the door—the whole of the drawingroom was smothered in smoke, the statuary, lookingglasses, and all the coverings were quite black—I should think the tire had been burning seven or eight hours—this cloth (produced) I recognise as mine; it was used to cover up the furniture in the rooms during the repairs—Mrs. Allcroft's bedroom is coloured grey or blue; I should call it a bluegrey—the cornice is blue or grey, not a decided blue—I see on this cloth a corresponding colour.

Cross-examined by Harris. When I came to the boudoir the fire was not all out—the picture frame was standing across the door of the boudoir leading into the drawingroom—nearly half the flooring of the room was torn up—I had to pass through the frame to get from the boudoir to the drawingroom—there was no fire in the doorway between the boudoir and

the front drawingroom—the frame is eleven feet wide—I can swear to this cloth; I have others like it—they have not all got my name on them—I only know this by comparison with others that I have—it is unbleached cotton; any quantity might be bought at the same shop.

Re-examined. I recognise this blue spot on it as being part of the colour used in decorating Mrs. Allcroft's cornice—I did not use it while the prisoner was working there.

WILLIAM COOK . I am a member of the London Salvage Corps—on the morning of 14th September I went to 108, Lancaster Gate—the fire had then been extinguished—I made an examination of the boudoir; the floor was burnt a great deal underneath the frame of the picture, about eight feet in length and about three feet wide—that was the only portion of the room which was burnt—from the appearance I should think there had been two or three fires; they were disconnected—the joists were burnt in several places, and they were intersected by two or three which were not burnt at all—the lower portion of the frame nearest the floor as you entered the room was burnt through at the lefthand corner, and the sides were blackened—the lower part was properly the side of the picture in the way it stood, but it was the bottom of the frame as it then stood—the top of the frame was slightly burnt, and a great portion of the backing of the picture—I examined the canvas, part of the edges of the picture were burnt, and the remainder that was not touched by the fire indicated plainly that a knife had been used to cut the picture out—at the back there were marks of a knife, and of some oil, about a foot in length, as if it had run down from a person's hand; that was six, seven, or eight inches wide—the drawingroom was marked very extensively with smoke, the whole of the furniture was smothered—there was a greater deposit on the marble mantelpiece of the inner drawingroom, and on a piece of statuary close by, than the other part, though it was farthest from the fire—that was 58 or 60 feet from the boudoir door—I should think the fire had been burning seven or eight hours.

Crossexamined by Harris. Some of the flooring had been torn up, not all—portions of the top of the flooring were burnt through—five pieces of the joists were burnt, three on one side and two on the other—my reason for saying the fire was in two or three places is from the marks and smoke on the wall, and the planking itself—I could tell by the look of it that it was not a continuous fire—I only give it as my opinion.

By the COURT. The frame was a flat one, and fitted flat on the floor-having gold preparation on it would prevent its catching light like ordinary wood—they must have used something else to light it—it could be set fire to by putting turpentine or some other inflammable material—about one half or a little more of the bottom part was burnt—I could not tell whether it had been lighted at more than one spot. (MR. HEARN: The frame stood in the same position on the 13th.) If it had been set fire to in one or two places it would be likely to produce the sort of fire I saw—it would take a considerable time to burn, but the probability is that the planking had been taken up and put down loose afterwards, and in that way assisted to set light to the frame—the flooring underneath was concrete, to render it fireproof, and the boards could not have been burnt through without they had been disarranged before—it is possible that the setting fire to the frame may have burnt the floor, but some of the

planking fitted in next the wall—the lower part was burnt more than the upper, where the picture stood—my opinion is that fire must hare been placed underneath the boards—the planking that was burnt was exactly where the picture stood—they were not all burnt, more on the under side—about two of those farthest from the wall were burnt a little more on the upper side, burnt right through, gradually eaten away as the fire travelled.

Upon ARTHUR HIRE, a policesergeant, being called, the prisoner Harris objected to his evidence as he had not been called before the Magistrate, and he had had no notice of the evidence he was to give. MR. FULTON stated that the name of the witness had been given to the prisoner as a witness to be called. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS did not consider that sufficient information, and although he did not think the evidence inadmissible, it ought not to be sprung upon a prisoner without his having the opportunity of knowing what the proposed proof would be. MR. FULTON therefore did not press the evidence.

WILLIAM HENRY Goss. I was Mr. Hearn's foreman in August, and was at work at 108, Lancaster Crate—I was there on 13th Septembersome time that morning I lifted the cloth that covered the picture and the picture was then safe, I put my hand upon it—about ten minutes to six the last man left the work—I count them one after the other—to the best of my belief I counted them that night—I was standing in the kitchen doorway—there is a long passage from the kitchen to the area door, with rooms on each side; also a servant's staircase leading to the top of the house—Harris was there that day—to the best of my belief I saw him leave, I can't swear that I did—I was the last of the workmen to leave—I returned the next morning about three minutes before half-past six—the door was just open, waiting for us—I was the first to enter—shortly after my arrival I went up to the boudoir, on the first landing—I saw fire on both sides of the doorway—I opened the door leading into the drawingroom, and called the men to assist me—Harris was there among others, and he assisted in extinguishing the fire—we did it with pails of water—the workmen took up the boards by my orders—I can't say whether they came up easily, because the mem were excited and picked them up all alight.

Cross-examined by Harris. The colour on the cloth is the same colour that was in Mrs. Allcroft's bedroom—I don't think there was any in any other part of the house; it is a very common colour—I am employed by Mr. Hearn now, I am his regular foreman—to the best of my knowledge no man was in the boudoir till the day I opened the door to rub it down; that took two days—that was the only occasion I had the key—I never showed the picture to any of the workmen or to any stranger.

MARY IVEY . I am a servant in the employ of Mr. Allcroft—on 13th September I left the house about a quarter-past 6 in the evening, and returned about a quarter-past 9—I came in at the front door; I was let in by my fellowservant—to the best of my belief the door was then locked by her.

Cross-examined by Harris. I had charge of all the keys—when Goss required the key of the boudoir he came down to me and asked for it, till the drawingroom painting began, but not afterwards—the door was not locked after the Monday—the keys were returned to me before that—I

cannot tell you how many times he had the key—sometimes Mr. Hearn had it, and sometimes the other foreman—Goss had it many times—I locked the door to prevent the picture from being damaged—he did not give the key back to me after Monday, the 12th.

WILLIAM HENRY GOSS (Re-examined by the prisoner Harris). I had no occasion to fetch the key till I commenced rubbing down the doors; that was on the 12th and 13th, and it was not finished then—I did not fetch the key before that, not the key of the boudoir—I never showed the picture to anybody—I did not see it myself till between three or four days previous to the 12th, and that was through the caution that I gave the men never to touch it; I don't know that I told them about that particular picture—I said "When the door is open, whatever you do, don't touch the picture"—I think the cloth was lifted up, and they did just see it then—nobody saw it before the 12th; I can't tell how many saw it then—a man named Pearman came one day to tell me a man had come to ask for a job, but I never took any note of his face; I could not say whether he had a heavy moustache and a high hat—I don't remember saying that I did not believe the man was a painter, and that he wore a gold chain and a high hat and a heavy moustache—on the night of the 13th the key of the boudoir was in the door; it was not locked—I got tho key on the 12th to unlock the inside door to get into the boudoir—I did not keep it in my possession, I left it in the lock—the other doors had the keys inside—anybody in the house could have got into the boudoir or the diningroom—I left the key in the door because the men should go in to work next morning—I had to be there next morning at half-past 6, the workmen came at that time—I left the key in the door so that the men could go in without disturbing the servants for it; I had no other reason.

JOSEPH MITCHELL . I reside in Lansdowne Road, Tottenham—I have certain premises at 21, Francis Street, Victoria Park—Harris was my tenant—he took the house for three years and a quarter, and held it from 13th August, 1880, up to the first part of January this year.

JOHN YOUNG . I am landlord of 15, Gainsborough Square, Victoria Park—on 28th January Mrs. Harris became my tenant—I did not know Harris at all—I only knew Atkins through seeing him move the goods into my place; he did not stay at the house.

JOHN DERBY ALLCROFT . I reside at 108, Lancaster Gate—in August last I left my house in charge of two servants and Mr. Hearn—communication was made to me in September last, and I came up to my house—on arriving there I found that my picture had been stolen; this (produced) is it—I subsequently put the matter in the hands of my solicitor—I caused advertisements to be put into the various papers offering rewards, first of 100l., and then of 300l.; I then received several letters addressed to me, this one with the postmark of October 10th, and these other letters dated the 15th, 19th, 24th October and 7th December—I don't know that that is in a different writing to the others—I know nothing about the envelope—I don't know whether the letter came addressed to me or not.

RICHARD MELVILLE BEACHCROFT . I am solicitor to Mr. Allcroft—is consequence of a communication from him I inserted certain advertisements in the Daily Telegraph offering a reward—on 23rd January the prisoner Atkins came to my office; I had previously received a letter dated 19th January—I pointed to that letter, which was on my table, and said to him,

"Is that letter in your handwriting; did you write it?"—he said," I did; he made me do it," meaning his cousin's husband (Harris)," he gave me the copies to write from, the copies were destroyed all except two, which are at my house"—I asked him who his cousin's husband was—he said," He is one of the workmen employed at Lancaster Gate"—I asked him if he was a painter—he said, "Yes"—he said," Have you got the stamped agreement I wrote about?"—I said, "No; but I can write it out at once, but you must give me your name and address, as they will be required for the agreement"—he then gave me his name as" David Atkins, 124, Bayham Road"—I then wrote out a sort of agreement in the form of the advertisement; this is it (produced), and this is the letter he referred to when he first came. (Read: "Are you willing to give a stamped agreement that you will pay the reward of 300l. on the recovery of the painting the Monarch of the Meadows,' and the conviction of the guilty party? if so, answer in the Daily Telegraph tomorrow morning that you can at once do so by taking me with the painting in my possession tomorrow morning, as I am under threats of life being taken if I do not take it away and keep it, which I cannot do, as I have no place to do so. He is already in prison; he is a cousin's husband, and has been a complete scamp since he was married, therefore I could not give evidence against him; but you would have to charge me with the unlawful possession of the painting, when you will find out I had nothing to do with the taking the painting any more than yourself, as I did not see the painting till the Sunday evening after it was taken, when it was put where it is now; but his wife is going to move, and he has threatened to murder his wife and children if the painting is not kept for her, or if it is destroyed. He has been sent away, and you will have no trouble to convict him of it, if he is sent for trial. If you will agree as I say the painting will be in your keeping tomorrow night Answer as under by post, Yes, Yes ")—I did answer "Yes, Yes," and it was after that that Atkins came—I gave him the agreement; he looked at it, read it, and put it in his pocket—I said," I must now ask you to come down with me to Scotland Yard," and I took him there in a Hansom—I saw him again the same evening, about a quarter past 8, at Scotland Yard; I was brought back there by telegram, and he was there and the picture—having identified the picture, after consulting with the authorities, I took Atkins in a cab, together with the two inspectors, to Marylebone Policestation, and there charged him—I subsequently received a communication from him, and went to see him at the House of Detention on 3rd February—he there made a statement, which I reduced into writing, and he signed it in my presence—this is it (In this statement Atkins detailed at length the circumstances connected with the stealing of the picture, as he alleged by Harris, who had drawn him into the matter, in substance to the same effect as contained in the letter)—I subsequently received this letter from Harris, and on 9th February I went with Mr. Allcroft and saw him in Wandsworth Prison—I said to him, "We have come, but we don't press you to say anything; whatever you do say will be used against you at your trial, as Atkins's statement was, and may be used against him"—he stepped towards Mr. Allcroft and said, "I wish to know whether the 300l. will be paid to my wife and children"—I replied that I could not discuss that matter at all with him—after a long pause he said, "Atkins knows nothing about it; what he is doing he is doing for my wife and children"—after a further pause he said,

"I suppose I may as well tell the whole truth about it"—he then said that there was a man named De Horley, who was seen two or three days before the fire about the place asking for work; that he came to Goss and asked him for a job; that he asked him (Harris) whether he could get the picture for him, Goss having shown him the picture; that he said" No, he would not do it;" that he then asked him whether he would tell him how to get into the house, and he told him how to get into the house; that at half-past 5 in the afternoon of the 13th he and the other workmen went down in the kitchen to draw for a spec or sweepstake, and that that was the time when De Horley went into the house and upstairs; that he had offered him 50l. if he got it, but that he never received it; that he waited outside the house that evening by the Park railings, and noticed a light in the boudour; that about 8 o'clock De Horley came out at the front door smoking a pipe, with the picture rolled up under his arm; he then described how the picture had been doubled up first and then rolled; that he and De Horley then went to Praed Street, and when they got in the Underground Railway the picture, rolled up, was placed behind them on the seat; that when they got to Aldgate it was 25 minutes past 8; that then De Horley wanted to take the picture, but that he would not let him do so without the 50l.; that once or twice during that week De Horley came to his place, and said that he was going across the water; that he was away three weeks, and when he returned he suggested to him to write the letters to Mr. Allcroft, and told him what to write; that he knew his handwriting would be known on the timesheets, and he asked Atkins to write them for him—he further said that the day after the fire, namely, the 14th, he met De Horley at the Swan public-house, and there told him about the fire; that De Horley seemed surprised, and said," I must have dropped a match among the sheeting"—he also said that De Horley must have been known to several of the workmen employed in the house, and if I could show him the timesheets he could identify the men who could speak as to De Horley coming to the house, and that he was known among the men as Inky—he described him as a dark man with a thick moustache, seemingly like a foreigner.

Harris. It is a mistake that I said the man was known as Inky; it was Pearman that was known by that name.

GEORGE ROBSON (Police Inspector). On 23rd January Atkins came to Scotland Yard with Mr. Beachcroft—I went with him in a cab to 15, Gainsborough Square, where he lived—he left me, and went into the house—in about threequarters of an hour he returned, and had with him the picture that has been produced—I took him back to Scotland Yard—I subsequently went to 21, Francis Terrace, Victoria Park—I went on the roof, and there found a number of tiles and slates removed to the extent of about four or five feet square; the picture could have been placed underneath the tiles—I found this cloth at Gainsborough Square, and the two draft letters stated to be in Harris's handwriting—the house in Francis Terrace was empty.

GEORGE PEARMAN (Examined by the prisoner Harris). A day or two before the fire I remember a man coming and asking for a job; he had a high hat and a thick moustache, and I did not think he looked like a tradesman or a painter—I did not see Goss talking to him—this paper (produced) is not my writing—Mr. Jones, Mr. Hearn's foreman, read over a statement

to me which he took down; I believe it was correct—I don't think I ever saw this paper before—I don't know a man named De Horley, if he is produced I will recognise him—I think it was the day previous to the fire that I saw the man who came for a job—he went into the basement—he asked for the foreman—somebody called "Goss," but I could not say who—he was in the kitchen; I was at the bottom of the staircase—the man asked if there was any work, and where was the foreman—I could not swear whether Goss saw him—I believe I said to Jim Cogan, one of the workmen, "I don't believe that man is a painter"—I don't think I spoke of it to the detectives next morning; I may have said so, but in the bustle I could not swear to it—Mr. Hearn's work was carried on in a sober, orderly way.

The prisoner Harris, in his defence, repeated in substance the statement made to Mr. Beachcroft; he also stated that the witness Goss had shown the picture to De Horley, as well as to many other persons; and thai Atkins had taken no part in the matter beyond copying the letters that he (Harris) had written After MR. FULTON had opened this case.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS said: Is it not necessary to support this indictment under section 7 to show that what was done to the goods in the house was done with a view to injure the owner of the house by injuring the house itself; in other words, to show that it was an overt act to the setting fire to the house? If a man sets fire to a chattel in the house, and accidentally and unintentionally sets fire to the house, would that be arson? Cases referred to, the Queen v. Child and the Queen v. Batstone, and the Queen v. Maggie Nattrass, page 522.

In leaving the case to the Jury his Lordship said: "If the house was wilfully set fire to for the purpose of destroying evidence of the picture having been stolen, and to lead to the supposition that it had been destroyed, that would amount to the crime of arson. So also if the Jury thought Harris set fire to the frame with a knowledge that in all probability the house would be set fire to, and he was reckless and indifferent whether it caught fire or not, then, inasmuch as the house was in fact set on fire through the medium of the frame, that would be abundant evidence to justify a conviction of arson, and even if the house had not actually caught fire it would have been evidence of a felony under section 7.

The JURY, in reply to questions left to them, found—first, that the prisoner did not set fire to the house apart from the frame; secondly, that he did set fire to the frame; thirdly, that the probable result would be setting fire to the floor; fourthly, that he did not intend to set fire to the house; fifthly, that he was not aware that what he did would probably set the house on fire, and so injure the owner; sixthly, that he was not reckless and indifferent whether it was set on fire or not. Upon these findings his Lordship directed a verdict of


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-351
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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351. EMIL FANSELOW (24) , Feloniously wounding Clara Ann Byford, with intent to murder. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended. CLARA ANN BYFORD. I am housemaid in the employ of Mrs. Furney, 1, Southwick Terrace, Paddington—she keeps a boarding-house—the prisoner had been in her employ for about six weeks as waiter—I think we had a

few words only about the house—on Wednesday, 14th December, he showed me a revolver—I asked him what he wanted it for; he said he had it in his possession in case anybody got in in the night—he had attempted to kiss me once or twice, at which I was angry—on Monday, 19th, about 8 o'clock, I went downstairs to make tea in the kitchen, and then went into the pantry to get the teathings ready to take upstairs—the prisoner came over to me, caught hold of me, and kissed me—I told him I should complain to the mistress when I went upstairs—I then went into the kitchen and made the tea, and about 8.15 I went into the pantry again, and while getting the teathings ready the prisoner came towards me; I pushed him away—I turned round to get the teathings, and he fired at me—I screamed, and he fired again—I was struck once on the left breast and once underneath it—I then went upstairs to Mr. Scott, and he fetched my mistress, and she attended to me till the doctor came—I was in St. Mary's Hospital seven weeks, and attended by Dr. Jones—I was wearing stays on this day.

Cross-examined. With the exception of the prisoner's trying to kiss me now and then, nothing had taken place between us—he never spoke to me with affection, nor complained of my not returning his affection—the little quarrel that we had was about the work; it had nothing to do with myself; I had no difference of any sort with him—he never made love to me, and never complained of my not caring for him—he went out on the afternoon of the 19th to have his hair cut—the cook told me he had been crying, and I asked him what was the matter with him—I said "I think you have been drinking"—he said "No, I am love sick"—I said "Oh, who?"—he said "I shall not tell you"—this was in the kitchen—at 8 o'clock he was in the pantry doing his ordinary work—I did not see anything in his hand at that time; I fancied he had the revolver in his pocket—it was about two minutes after I went into the pantry the second time that he shot me; I had not made any complaint to my mistress.

WILLIAM SCOTT . I am an engineer—I was boarding with Mrs. Furney in December—about 8 o'clock or shortly after, on Monday night, the 19th, I heard several reports downstairs, and heard a scream—I went to my door, and saw Byford coming towards me screaming—she fell into my arms, and said she was shot—I placed her in a chair, and observed that her dress was on fire—I put it out with my hands, aud gave her some water to drink—I went and told the landlady, and then went for a doctor—I then went downstairs and saw the prisoner lying on a bed with his throat cut—I found in the policeman's hand a fivechambered revolver, and I took from it three discharged cartridges—I found another exploded cartridge on the table.

CAROLINE FURNEY . I undressed the girl and observed two wounds, one on the left breast and one immediately under it.

Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner brought upstairs into the hall; he was trying to open the wound in his throat—I had not observed any affection between these people—I had not observed anything in the prisoner to attract my attention before this day—he was a very good servant, but rather stupid—he did not pick up English very fast.

ARTHUR GLANVILLE . I was Policeman V 66—on Monday night, the 19th, I was on duty in Southwick Crescent, and was fetched to No. 1, Southwick Crescent—I went to the pantry, and saw the prisoner lying on his bed with his throat cut, and a razor by his side, and a fivechambered revolver on a chest of drawers close to him—five discharged cartridges were in it, which Mr. Scott took out, and a doctor came and ordered his removal, and as he

went up to attend to Clara Byford the prisoner opened his eyes and exclaimed "My God, my God, where is the girl?"—I said" She is upstairs and all right"—he then went off into a sinking state—I said "What have you been doing to her? did you shoot her with this?"—he said" Yes, I did shoot her because I loved her"—I did not observe that he had shot himself in his breast, but I said "Your throat, did you do that with this razor?"—he said" Yes, I cut my throat and shot my side"—the doctor dressed his wounds and he was taken to St. Mary's Hospital—he produced this letter from his trousers pocket and said" For you, you"—I said "Will this explain why you have done it?" he said "That will explain all" This being translated by M. Albert was from the prisoner to the "Royal Police, London" and dated 18 th December, 1881, expressing his love for the prosecutrix, who he found did not love him, and stating that the idea of shooting her had only come into his mind during the last 10 days, and that had she returned his affection he would have married her in two years. He directed 22s. which a friend owed him to go towards the expense of his burial, and gave his brother's address at Berlin.

Cross-examined. While I was conversing with him downstairs he asked me to shoot him.

JAMES CUTHBERT . I was sent for to this house, went into the pantry, which is the prisoner's bedroom, and found two bullets which had been fired; one, a spent ball, was on the mattress on which he was lying, and the other was a cartridge on the floor—I found a box in his portmanteau containing forty cartridges.

THOMAS WILLIAM CASTLE JONES . I am house surgeon of St Mary's Hospital—I came in there early on the morning of 20th and found the prosecutrix there—she had two round bullet wounds on her left breast, both below the level of the nipple, one on the outer and one on the inner side, such as I should expect bullets from a revolver such as this to make—I have been unable to extract either of the bullets—she was in great pain, but her life was not in immediate danger; there was danger of erysipelas and other matters supervening—the wound on the inner side was very near the heart—I also examined the prisoner at the hospital and found a wound across his throat above the windpipe, and a bullet wound in his left breast which must have injured the lung—I extracted it from his back close to his shoulder blade.

A translation of the Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was produced, in which he said that he committed the act because he loved the girl and she did not love him; that he used at first to kiss her, but afterwards she refused to allow it; that he gave way to drink, bought fifty cartridges, drank three or four pints of stout, and went home and fired at the girl several times, and then at himself; and then, as the chambers were all discharged, he cut his throat with a razor.

GUILTY . (The prisoner handed in some certificates to his good character.) —Five Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Monday, March 6 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-352
VerdictNot Guilty > directed

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352. ERNEST COOPER, Unlawfully taking Catherine Hancock, a girl under the age of 16, out of the care of John Silvester, her guardian.



It appearing that, although the girl left home without permission, she did so of her own accord, and that the prisoner did not take her away, although she met him and stayed the night with him, after she had refused to take his advice to return home, the COURT directed a verdict of


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-353
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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353. ALBERT DAWSON (18), Rape on Matilda Annie Townsend . MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.

GUILTY of the attempt .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 7 th, 1882.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-354
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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354. GEORGE COLLINS (51) , Feloniously shooting at Samuel Thomas Wallers, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.


SAMUEL THOMAS WALLERS . I am a jeweller of 14, Ann Street, Islington—on 21st February, about 12.30 a. m., I was with Revett at the corner of Shepherdess Walk, near the prisoner's shop—he is a butcher there—I have seen him frequently in passing, but did not know him—he came towards us and said "Good evening, gentlemen," and asked me if I would drink a drop of whisky—I said "No, I am a teetotaler as regards spirits; my friend might have a drink"—he handed Revett a flask and said" As regards teetotalers, a man who drinks in moderation is better than a teetotaler"—as he said that a lady came and tapped me on the shoulder and said something about a club—I had seen her before—I said" I don't go to the club, and I don't know anything about the club"—the prisoner said that "I was a b jackass, only my ears were not long enough"—he pointed to the facia in the street and said" I done that with a quill pen"—I said" Did you?"—he said "Yes, I am a collegian, I have been to college for seven years, and I am a pugilist. Do you know the meaning of the word 'pugilist'?"—I said" No"—he said" Shall I explain it to you?"—I said" Yes"—he said "Pu'is 'hit; 'gi'is 'hard;' and list' is 'b hard,'" and knocked me down with his fist—that was my first lesson in the art—I got up and struck him again—I then saw him presenting this revolver at me—I knocked it down on to my hip, and then I heard the report, and the bullet went through the cuff of my sleeve and through my coat and struck me on my hip and made a great bruise—the prisoner tried to get in at his door, but I knocked him down, and the policeman took him—I had not provoked him in any way.

The COURT considered that as the pistol did not go off until after the prosecutor knocked it, the Jury could not say that it was fired with intent to murder, though no doubt an assault was committed.


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-355
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment; Miscellaneous > fine

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355. GEORGE COLLINS was again indicted for assaulting Samuel Thomas Wallers, and occasioning him actual bodily harm.

SAMUEL THOMAS WALLERS . (The evidence in the last case was read over to the witness.)

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I did not see any one strike him—

the woman was Mrs. Frazer; she is not a friend of mine; I had seen her several times before, but not that evening—the other man was a stranger to me—I do not know that the prisoner was bitten through the arm—I was three minutes' walk from home—I had been to the Green Gate, City Road—I am not one of the Green Gate gang—I never heard of them till I saw it in the paper—I have never seen any of the gang.

By the JURY. The club is the Tower Hamlets Volunteer Club—the woman said something about it, but don't know what she had to do with it.

JOHN REVETT . I am a lettercarrier, of 34, Shaftesbury Street—I was with Wallers near the prisoner's shop—he came up and offered me something to drink, and I took it from his flask—he said, "In my opinion teetotalers are a set of fools; a moderate drinker is better; I was seven years a collegian, and I wrote that name up there with a quill pen"—a young woman came up and asked if the club was open, or where it was; he answered her rather sharply—he then said, "I am a butcher and a pugilist; do you know the meaning of pugilist?"—"No"—"Shall I tell you?"—"Pu" means "hit," "gi" means" hard," and "list" means "b—y hard," and struck Wallers on his chest and knocked him over—Wallers got up and knocked the prisoner over, and as soon as he got up he drew a pistol from his pocket and presented it at his head; but Wallers knocked it from his hand, and as he did so, bang—I stood paralysed—the prisoner pulled a key and opened his door, but Wallers rushed up and knocked him over a second time—I caught hold of his collar, and two policemen took him—I only heard one report—we had not aggravated the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I had called at the Green Gate public-house—I do not know of the Green Gate gang—I saw nothing the matter with the prisoner's face at first, but he had two black eyes afterwards—no one hit him that I am aware of; I did not—I had never seen the girl before.

JOHN HENRY DAYMOND . I live at 6, Nile Street, City Road—on 21st February, at 1 a. m., I was going along Shaftesbury Road and saw Wallers, Revett, and the prisoner in conversation—they were talking about teetotalers, and the prisoner struck Wallers and knocked him down—he got up and struck the prisoner and knocked him down—he got up and presented a revolver—I heard it go off, and afterwards saw him trying to put it down the area grating—he tried to get in at his door with a key, but Wallers knocked him down a second time.

CHRISTOPHER LEWIS (Policeman G 265). I heard the report of a pistol and saw the prisoner trying to get in at his door—he refused to be searched and said that I should not take him to the station—I took one revolver from him and Taylor took another.

F—TAYLOR. (Not examined in chief.)

Cross-examined. I heard the prisoner say that Wallers knocked him down and hit him in the eye, and he thought they were going to rob him.

Witness for the Defence. WILLIAM GUEST CARPENTER. I am surgeon to the House of Detention—when the prisoner was brought in he made a complaint to me, and I examined him—he had two black eyes, a recent bite on the fleshy part of his arm made by human teeth, a recent wound on his left shin, which he said was from a kick, a bruise on each hip, one of which was very painful,

his throat was swollen, and he said that they had tried to garotte him—all the injuries were recent.

GUILTY of a common assaultImprisoned Eight Days , and fined 20l .

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-356
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation; Guilty > unknown
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties; Imprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

356. JAMES HARRIS and DAVID ATKINS were again indicted (see page 523) for stealing a picture the property of John Derby Allcroft, in his dwelling-house. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same. Harris stated in the presence of the Jury that he was guilty of receiving,

MR. FULTON Prosecuted.

WILLIAM HENRY Goss. I was foreman of Mr. Heme's workmen on 13th September at Mr. Allcroft's, 108, Lancaster Gate, and saw in the boudoir his picture the "Monarch of the Meadows"—next morning I went there again, and the picture had been cut from the frame and carried away—Harris was employed there as a painter at the time of the robbery.

JOHN DERBY ALLCROFT . I am the prosecutor—this roll is my picture, and was in my house on 13th September.

GEORGE ROBSON and RICHARD MELVILLE BEACHCROFT repeated their former evidence.

ATKINS— GUILTY as an accessory after the fact. Recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing him to be the dupe of Harris .— To enter into recognisances.

HARRIS— GUILTY of receiving.

He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of horse stealing at the last Session of this Court, for which he was sentenced to Five Years' Penal Servitude.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, March 7th, 1882.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-357
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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357. EDMUND HALPIN (28) , Feloniously drawing the trigger of a loaded pistol, with intent to murder Benjamin Dimond.



BENJAMIN DIMOND (Policeman G 282). On Jan. 29 about 1 a. m. I was with 23 G—we were called to 105, Central Street, St. Luke's, by Mr. Coffee, the manager of a club there—we went into a back room and saw from 20 to 30 people just about to commence a free fight; several of them were brandishing chair legs and other weapons—the prisoner was standing in the middle of the room with this revolver in his hand, presented at two men named. Taylor and Davis, who were going backwards out of the room towards the door—I sung out to the prisoner, "Put that down"—he immediately levelled it at me, and said, "If you touch me I will fire" I sprang on him, seized the revolver in my left hand, and the prisoner with my right—he pulled the trigger and the hammer fell on my thumb—I asked the sergeant to release my thumb, which he did, and we took the prisoner in custody—I asked him if the revolver was loaded—he said "Yes"—while he was being searched at the station he said that he was going to shoot Taylor and Long Davis—he said, "I would not shoot you"—he was quite sober—I found the revolver was loaded in six chambers, these are the cartridges (produced).

Cross-examined. I believe the prisoner is a member of the club, but not Davis and Taylor—I have not seen them here—I know them to be scoundrels and roughs—two or three weeks ago the prisoner came to old

Street Station, and told the inspector in my presence that he had been threatened by a mob and driven out of the White Hart public house, and had to scale the wall to get away, and the inspector sent me to see what it was; but when outside the station the prisoner declined to go farther, as if he did he should only get it worse—I have heard nothing of Shenstone or Howard—I cannot say that the mob were threatening the prisoner on this occasion—they were not attacking him, it seemed a free fight among the lot—he had the revolver when I first saw him—I had to clear away the people before I could get to him, and I shouted as I went towards him—the hammer took the skin off my thumb, and the pistol was prevented from firing—it is a pinfire pistol—it could not have been many seconds from the time I opened the door till the trigger was pulled—I did not hear him say that if the police had not come into the room he should have been killed, or that Taylor had attempted to stab him—he has applied to the police at Bagnigge Wells for protection—a Magistrate did not tell him that he could do nothing unless an assault was committed.

JOSEPH MOULDER (Police Sergeant 23 G). On 24th January about 1.30 I accompanied Dimond to 105, Central Street, St. Luke's, and saw a mob of 20 or 30 persons fighting, and the prisoner standing with a revolver pointing it at Taylor—I told him to put it down, and Dimond rushed at him, and then asked me to release his thumb, which I did—the hammer was on it—the prisoner said to Dimond, "Don't touch me or I will shoot you"—we took the prisoner to the station—he said that he did not intend to shoot Dimond, but he intended to shoot Taylor and Davis, and carried the revolver for that purpose.

Cross-examined. They were all crowding round the prisoner, brandishing the legs of chairs which had been broken up—I did not hear the prisoner say" Stand back"—I know nothing of the trial of Howard at Middlesex Sessions for an assault on Shenstone—I know the prisoner came to the station, but I know nothing about his application to the Magistrate.

JAMES COFFEE . I am manager of the Central Working Men's Club, 105, Central Street—the prisoner is a member—there was a dispute between some members, and I went out and spoke to the police—on going back I saw the prisoner with a revolver, and went out again and asked the police to enter and assist me, and two policemen came in—I heard the prisoner say "If you do not stand back and not interfere with me, I will do for one or other of you; "I think he mentioned Davis and Taylor.

Cross-examined. I do not know Davis or Taylor; they are not members of the club I said at the police-court that he said" If you do not keep away from me I shall fire," not "I shall do for one of you"—I heard the prisoner say that he did not intend the revolver for the policeman—I saw some chairs broken—I did not hear the prisoner say to the police "I am glad you have come, or they would have killed me."

Witnesses for the Defence. WILLIAM HOLLAND. I manage the White Hart public-house, Central Street—about three weeks before this assault is said to have taken place the prisoner was there playing at bagatelle—twenty or thirty men came; some of them went into the bagatelleroom, and some went round to the window—on that the prisoner came out of the room, he was sober; he did

not seem much alarmed—he said to his friend that he had forgotten something, and went into the back yard followed by the mob, who would have assaulted him if he had not escaped by the dusthole—I did not see him escape, but there was no other way—they said that they wanted to pay nobody else but Halpin—they were at my house once before to look after him—I know nothing about Howard or Shenstone.

ALBERT NEST . I am a tailors' bust maker, of 21, New Street, Cloth Fair—I am not a member of this club, but I went there with the prisoner—we went into the bar and out at the back; the prisoner returned first, and then I went into the bagatelleroom and saw a man catch hold of the prisoner by the throat and call for a knife; several others were round him—the man was pulled off, and the prisoner and I both ran into the bar—I tried to open the outer door, but could not—we stood in the bar a few minutes, and some men rushed out from another door; they appeared to be rushing on the prisoner, who pulled a revolver out of his pocket and worked his way back to the bagatelleroom, and said "If any one touches me with any weapon I will fire"—there was then a rush, and I saw them jumping on chairs and flourishing them about—the prisoner had not interfered with anybody while I was with him until they got hold of him—I should know the man who got hold him if I saw him—I know nothing about Howard or Shenstone.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about two years—I never inquired his business—I only know him by meeting him at that public-house—it was the first time I was in the club—I did not know that he had a revolver when I went in.

JANE WINDSOR . I am the prisoner's sister—I remember his being a witness at the Middlesex Sessions for Mr. Shenstone; the case was one of stabbing and kicking Mr. Shenstone—since then my brother has been followed about—about five weeks before Christmas he came to my place with two black eyes and a stab in his right arm, and he stopped there for ten days; one or two of his teeth were also knocked out—about a fortnight after Christmas he came to me with one boot on, and he had had a kick on his nose—Mr. Webb was with him, who was stabbed in three places on his head—Webb did not come with him on the day his nose was kicked—Webb had a hospital bandage round his hand, and I know that he had been to the hospital—I have seen seven or eight men when I used to go and see my brother home, and they told me that they meant to kill him—he is a widower.

Cross-examined. I do not know of any other scrapes my brother has got into—he lives in the next street to me—he is a labourer—I was not present at the trial at Middlesex Sessions—I did not hear the prisoner say why the assault took place—I know that my brother was in the Coach and Horses when the prosecutor was assaulted—I know that he had got a revolver, because I had it at my place; he has only carried it lately, since they have been following him.

GEORGE GILDER . I am a porter in Covent Garden Market in the summer time—four of us went to this club with the prisoner altogether—he called for a pot of beer at the bar, and asked us to go inside—there were 25 or 30 people inside—the prisoner returned, and a man named Taylor seized him by the throat, and said "We have got you now, and we mean to do for you," and called for a knife—Longer laid hold of Taylor and pulled him

away, and one of the men knocked Longer down with a leg of a chair or a form; his brother Samuel picked him up, and I saw the prisoner going out of the room—we went to the front of the bar, and part of the mob followed the prisoner to the bar; they came out of the door leading into the bar, lifted up a flap, and came through and gathered round him, and he pulled out his revolver and made his way back to the bagatelleroom, and stood with his back towards the table, and said "Any of you touch me with any weapon I will fire"—the mob was trying to get at him, and I and Samuel and Thomas Longer stood by his side to keep them oft—one of the men hit Samuel Longer across the arms and on the top of his head, and the police came in—I am not a member of the club.



Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-358
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

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358. ARTHUR BROWN, Indicted for a libel of and concerning Edward Mills.

MR. KEITH FRITH Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

EDWARD MILLS . I am a bookmaker, of 16, Alfred Street, Bow—I have known the prisoner about 12 months—in October last he came to live with me—I kept him, and interested myself in getting him a situation for the General Omnibus Company—I frequent the Joiners' Arms, Tredegar Road, Bow—I am known there by the name of Major—on 11th February I went into the public bar and saw this paper stuck up on the wall: "Notice.—H. Knott (tailor), of Old Ford, hearing that W. Mills, alias the Major, thinks himself champion of Old Ford, will box him for as much as he can find, or White, the carman, can be on. H. Knott will be at the Addington Arms, Addington Road, Bow, prepared to stake next Monday night Business only is meant—i.e., Major Mills, welsher. "It could be seen from the outside through the window, and by any one in the bar—my brother called my attention to it—at first I took no notice, but hearing that it had not been removed, I went and cut it down and put it in my pocket—a welsher in racing phraseology is a man who wilfully and deliberately takes money and puts it into his pocket, and in the event of the horse that is backed winning he refuses to pay him except in a pugilistic way—he would say "If you want it you can punch it out of me"—a welsher is liable to be turned off the course, and I have seen them ducked and dragged through a horsepond before now—I am acquainted with the defendant's writing; the words "Notice" and "i.e. Major Mills, welsher," are his printing—he was my clerk for some time—I have seen him print scores of times—I never had a dispute with him—I laid him 66 crowns to one on Foxhall against Caesarewitch—he asked me for money, and I told him I was not responsible—at the time I was in partnership with Blyth, which ended on 10th September, Blyth paying and receiving from these races, Blyth owing me 54l.—the prisoner said he should look to Blyth for the money.

Cross-examined. Knott is a tailor—I have not been in his service—I am a major by courtesy—I will pick out the prisoner's printing from 19—the style is like it—the w and r are are like his; the archway between the two strokes of the w is like his, and the curly tail of the r—if I was challenged

I should fight in a moment—I had a fair and legitimate fight with Knott—I was served with five summonses from landlords of public-houses—Blyth was fined 5l.; he pleaded guilty—all charges were withdrawn against me—that was for betting in unlicensed premises—a subscription was got up for my defence, and there was a row about it because Knott broke his leg—this is not my first visit to the Old Bailey—I was a prosecutor for libel—I was charged with threatening to shoot my father-in-law, and bound over to keep the peace—I did not ask Knott to swear that this libel was in the prisoner's writing, nor that he had seen the prisoner write it and put it behind the public bar.

Re-examined: Knott complained to me since he gave his evidence—the M in Mills is like the prisoner's.

ALFRED MILLS . I live at Sydney Terrace, Homerton, and am the prosecutor's brother—on 11th February, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I was in the Joiners' Arms—the prisoner brought in the Sporting Life—it contained the advertisement which is stuck on this paper, which was put on the wall—I said "That does not refer to my brother; it is the wrong initial"—he said "Yes, it does"—it is W instead of E—he asked the barmaid for a piece of paper, and gummed it to it—I saw him cut it out, and he pasted it on the wall—he said that it referred to Mills—my brother lives in Alfred Street—I did not see the prisoner write on the paper—nothing was printed oh it while I was in the house—I can swear "i. e. Major Mills, welsher," is the prisoner's printing—I have seen him write and print various times at my brother's house.

Cross-examined. I am a clerk—I have been out of employment four months—I was in a West End trade protection society in Argyle Street—before that I was in business in Leicester with my brother—I was never employed in Tottenham Court Road—I got married and came to London—I was in London about a month before I got a situation—I came to London at the latter end of August or 1st September—I had ample opportunities of seeing the prisoner's writing, more than a month—I had seen him write and print at different times at the Joiners' Arms—I should go by the N in Notice.

HENRY KNOTT . I am a tailor, of 12, Usher Road, Bow—I gave evidence before the Magistrate—I am married—I have not conversed with the prosecutor or his brother or any person about this case—the advertisement refers to me, but did not emanate from me—I have seen the advertisement—I do not know any more of it than you do—I heard something said at the public-house bar; I could not say the prisoner said it—I know the prosecutor—I know Brown by sight; I do not know that he is a clerk or what he is—the words I heard were "Mills is a d—d welsher. "

Cross-examined. I am not a fighting man, and am not prepared to box Mills or stake ray money—White, the carman, has been in business many years—I pay an occasional visit to the Addington Arms for a glass of ale—Mills asked me to say that the document was the prisoner's, and said "I believe that is his writing"—I said "I cannot say"—I refused to swear that it was his writing.

Re-examined. I did not hear him say "If you think so truly"—Mills wrote the words in a notebook—he read it out. (Read: "On Sunday at dinner time I was in the Joiners' Arms, and heard Brown state that he wrote and put up the statement on the wall, and that Mills was a d—d welsher, and that he welshed him out of 16l., and he was going to have a

go at him.") 1 said that was true, but he has omitted the words "I am not positive"—I cannot say where they should come in; at the end—he read it in a quick, gabbling manner—I then said "I am not positive—I do not recollect saying the words were correct—that was in a public-house.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I am not a friend of Mills or Brown—about half a dozen people were drinking in the public-house when the conversation occurred—I would not be positive who repeated those words—I did not sign "H. Knott. "


Before Robert Malcolm Kerry Esq.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-359
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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359. GEORGE HAMSWORTH (19) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments to burglaries in the dwelling-house of Thomas Dawes in September, October, and January, and stealing cigars and other articles, and 40l. and other sums.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-360
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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360. EMMA POINTING (26) , Feloniously marrying Edward Reed during the life of her husband.

MR. MORTEN Prosecuted.

HENRY EDMUNDS . I am the Registrar of Marriages of High Wickham—I produce a certificate of marriage performed at the Free Methodist Chapel, High Wickham, on 30th May, 1874, between Joseph Edward Pointing and Emma Mullett—I have examined the register, and it is a true copy—I was present at the ceremony—the prisoner is the person described in the certificate—I saw it signed—I know Reed's writing—these letters and envelopes were written by him—the postmarks are 28th Nov., 5th December, 1881, and 29th January, 1882.

ELIZA RAY . I am a widow, and live at West Ham—I have known the prisoner for 12 months—I have washed for her as Mrs. Hunt—she showed me a letter some time in November, which she said was from her mother, and stated that her husband was lying in a foreign hospital—the prisoner was engaged to Edward Reed, and I told her she would be liable to get six months' for it—she said she was going to do it for a home—I saw her on 23rd December, and she said she was not going to be married, she was going to High Wickham—I did not tell Reed about it.

EDWARD REED . I am a coachman, and reside at Stratford—I was married on 25th December to the prisoner at West Ham Church—I had known her three or four months—she said her name was Florence Minnie Emily Hunt, and she was a barmaid at Notting Hill—the banns were put up and were out a week before Christmas—the prisoner went with me to put them up.

Prisoner's Defence. Reed met me on 6th Nov. in an omnibus—I met him on the 12th—the following Saturday he went home with me, he knows what for—I received money from him twice before I was married. EDWARD REED (Re-examined). That was to buy clothes.

GUILTY .— One Day's Imprisonment.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-361
VerdictsNot Guilty > unknown; Not Guilty > no evidence

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361. WILLIAM GEORGE BLATCH (31) , Embezzling two sums of 6s. each, received for and on account of his master George Henry Smith . MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.

WILLAM PAYNE. I live at 64, Regent Street, Newton, Bristol, and am a traveller—in January last I saw an advertisement in the Western

Daily Press, in consequence of which I wrote a letter to W. G. Blatch, of Stratford—I received a couple of circulars referring to an article called the "Repellant," inviting me to travel for it—I determined to do so and sent a registered letter with 6s.—I did not receive the goods, and wrote again, when I received a letter on the 16th January, 1882, marked H, Dear Sir, Your goods shall be dispatched tomorrow by the Great Eastern Railway. Yours truly, East London Manufacturing CompaayWilliam Blatch, Manager."—I never received the goods—my place is an the Great Western Railway, and I was surprised to see a reference to the Great Eastern.

HENRY SKEATES . I live at 214, Barton Street, Gloucester—in January last I saw an advertisement in the Citizen newspaper of Gloucester referring to the "Repellant"—I wrote to the address given, and received this circular stating the good qualities of the" Repellant "(produced)—it proposed certain terms of agency, and I resolved to become an agent, and ordered goods amounting to 6s., for which I sent a postoffice orderI afterwards received this letter of the 10th January, 1882:" Your favour to hand, goods shall be forwarded tomorrow by Great Eastern Railway.—W. G. Blatch, Manager." JAMES WORSLEY. I live at 15, Latham Street, Blackburn Road, Little Bolton, Lancashire—on the 11th January I saw in the Bolton Evening News an advertisement referring to the" Repellant," in consequence of which I wrote for a circular—I received in reply a couple of circulars setting forth the advantages of the article, and proposing terms of agency—I resolved to become an, agent, and I wrote to that effect enclosing a postoffice order for 6s.—the goods have not been supplied—I wrote about it and received this letter of the 16th January, 1882:" Dear Sir, Your goods have been forwarded this evening by the Great Eastern Railway. Yours truly, W. G. Blatch, Manager. "I never received the goods. GEORGE HENRY SMITH. I live at Felix House, Priory Street, Colchester, and am a stamp manufacturer—in November, 1881, I purchased of Mr. John Lee, of Colchester, the stock and business of the East London Manufacturing Company, carried 'on at Stratford—1 saw the prisoner, who was the manager of the business at that time, and I continued to employ him as manager, and supplied him with goods for the business, which WM for the sale of knife and fork cleaning machines and endorsing stamps—I manufacture an article called the" Repellant," and I advertised it in the newspapers—I supplied the prisoner with a stock of the" Repellant" and other things to sell—it was his duty to open letters addressed to him, and dispatch goods, and keep a set of books, and render to me a balancesheet showing the amount of goods ordered—he had to account for the money he received—he kept a parcels' book in which the articles were to be entered that were sent out, and it was signed by the railway company's carman—in consequence of differences which arose I discharged the prisoner on Saturday, 21st January—three days before his discharge I went to the premises and took possession of all the goods and papers and sent them to Colchester—I found a number of letters from persons complaining of goods not being sent—I then issued a circular and sent to my customers—I do not find any entry of Payne, or Skeates, or Worsley in the book—there is an entry of" Payne 2s. here—the prisoner's wages were 25s. per week and 11/4 per cent, commission, and his rent free—these three

documents relating to these three sales are in the prisoner's handwriting (produced).

Cross-examined. On the 18th January I took the books and papers and put a man named Wingrove into the place—I have got several different businesses and agencies—I manufacture knife machines and indiarubber stamps—I never carried on business as Thomas and Co., in Essex, or in any name similar to that—I do not charge the prisoner and had nothing to do with it—I have not got the address of where he removed to after I discharged him—it was a few miles away—I have never made any charge against him—I am simply a witness—I first knew of any charge against him about a week after he left me—he was for some years in my employment at Colchester as clerk, about three or four yean ago, about a couple of years I think—I have known him for ten years I should say—he is the son of respectable people at Colchester—it was one of the men who ordered the" Repellant" who charged him—I do not wish to charge him.

On this statement of the witness's, MR. M. WILLIAMS withdrew from the prosecution.


There was another indictment againt the prisoner for unlawfully obtaining money by false pretences, on which no evidence was offered.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-362
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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362. WILLIAM ROLFE (16) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. EYRE LLOYD Prosecuted.

BERTHA WICKS . My father is a draper at High Street, Stratford—on 15th February, about 5 p.m., a boy came in for a silkpattern handkerchief—I don't think' it was the prisoner—I showed him one at 2 1/4 d.; he tendered a halfcrown and a farthing—my father gave him the change and he left—about five minutes afterwards my father found that it was bad, and my two brothers went out and brought in the prisoner, who said "I am not the boy, Ma'am, am I?"—I said "I can't say"—I thought the other boy was rather stouter—there was no one in the shop—I saw the prisoner stoop down, and mentioned it to my father—a policeman came and told the prisoner to take off his boots; he did so, and this bad florin (produced) was found in his boot—he had not got the handkerchief I had sold.

WALTER WICKS . My sister told me something; I went outside the shop and saw one boy outside and one coming in—the prisoner is one—they spoke together and then went on—I saw a boy looking in at the window—my elder brother went with me and we found the prisoner and another boy—they ran different ways—we took the prisoner back to the shop and I fetched a policeman, and then stood outside to mind the shop, THOMAS WICKS. I went out with my brother and followed the prisoner and another boy; they looked round and ran—I followed the prisoner, and as he turned a corner he threw something which looked like coins or bits of tin into a pond—I caught hold of him—he said "I have not been doing anything; you have got hold of the wrong one"—I had not then spoken to him—I took him back—he caught hold of some railings, but I got him to the shop, and a constable was sent for.

DENNIS RAGAN (Policeman K 464). I was called, and went to the shop; Robinson also went—Mr. Wicks said "This boy has passed this bad halfcrown for a twopennythreefarthing handkerchief;" the prisoner said "I

did not pass it"—I said "Have you got any more of these?" he said "No" I searched him, and told him to take off his boots, and Robinson took this other halfcrown out of one of them—he said "I got it from a boy, and I put it there because I should not be had for nothing"—Robin son took him to the station.

DAVID ROBINSON (Policeman K 361). I was present when the prisoner's boot was examined, and I took the halfcrown from it—I said "How comes this in your boot?" he said "I did not want to be had for nothing; a boy gave it to me and told me to run away, and he also gave me this packet of envelopes, which he had in his pocket, and some coppers."

ALBERT CLARK (Police Inspector). Mr. Wicks pointed out the pond to me at the corner of Burton Road, about two minutes' walk from the shop—I searched the next day (Thursday)—it is very shallow at times; it is fed by the River Lea; it is sometimes a foot deep, and there is a current; it is about half the size of this Court, and contains very black mud—we went there when the tide was out, and there was only mud there, but horses are going in there continually—we did not take up the mud, we only searched over the top of it—the mud is five or six inches deep.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these two halfcrowns are bad.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I wish you would settle it now."

The Prisoner's Defence. They can't swear that I went into the shop.

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youthSix Months' Hard Labour.


Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-363
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

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363. JOHN MORBY (43) was indicted for the manslaughter of Abraham Morby. He was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like manslaughter.



CHARLES GILHAM (Policeman R 31). I am Coroner's Officer to Mr. Carttar, the Coroner of West Kent—on Monday, 9th January, about 9 am, the prisoner came to the Woolwich Policestation; he said he came to report the death of his child—I asked him to state the circumstances—I asked him what the child died of; he said smallpox—I asked him if then. were any other children in the house with smallpox, and how long the child had been suffering from smallpox; he said since the 27th of December—I asked him if he had called in a medical man; he said "No, he did not believe in one"—I then asked him if there were any more children suffering from it in the house; he said "Yes;" I think he said they were getting better, I heard so afterwards—I reported the case to the Coroner and the sanitary officer and the relieving officer—I then went to too prisoner's house on two occasions; the wife prevented my removing the body—I went on a third occasion, on the 9th January, the same day, and saw the prisoner there, and he allowed me to remove the body—I told him I had the Coroner's order to remove it.

Cross-examined. I ascertained when I went to the house that other children were ill—I saw three others—I believe they are well now—they all had smallpox.

ALFRED SHARP , M.D., living at Woolwich. My attention was drawn first to the child on 9th January, the same day that the body was removed from the house—I saw it in the act of removal from the house to the conveyance it was taken in—I found that the child had been suffering from smallpox—smallpox is a disease that requires skilled advice, great attention, and great care; if not properly cared for it is calculated to spread—in my judgment it requires medical skill—I made a postmortem examination of the body—it was covered with confluent pustules; all the organs were healthy—death was due to confluent smallpox, without a question—I think the life of the deceased might have been probably prolonged if medical skill had been called in; but I would rather put it in this way, that the chances of the boy's life would have been increased by having medical advice—I heard the prisoner's wife examined before the Coroner.

Cross-examined. Smallpox was fully developed, and was of a confluent character—that would be the most dangerous character of the disease—it is not by any means a fact that in the treatment of smallpox when the disease is pronounced, no drugs are used—there is not a great difference of medical opinion as to the use of drugs when the disorder is pronounced—mild cases require no treatment except an abundance of fresh air—that is the most essential mode of treating. cases of smallpox—careful nursing and sufficient ventilation are two most important elements no doubt, but not the only ones.

Re-examined. This was not a mild case of smallpox; it was a confluent case.

THOMAS HINES . I am a labourer, living at 3, Spray. Street, Plumstead—I am one of the Elders of the people called the Peculiar People—I knew the deceased Abraham Morby from his infancy—he was eight years old—on 26th or 27th December I went to the prisoner's house—I found the child apparently, according to the symptoms, suffering from, or sickening for smallpox—I knew that a brother of the deceased had already had smallpox—I am not positive whether I saw it again before it died; I don't think I did—on the 8th January I was sent for by the father, and in his presence I laid my hands upon the child and prayed for its recovery, according to the views of our sect, the same as I did for the first one, and the Lord restored him in answer to prayer—I prayed for this child, and it eventually died—no medical man was present that I am aware of—the father did not mention to me about calling in a medical man; it is somewhat contrary to the views of our sect—our belief is that it is better to trust in God than to put confidence in princes; doctors make so many mistakes—no medical aid was called in while I was there.

Cross-examined. I have known the parents for nearly 20 years—while the children were ill they nursed them with very great care—they did not have special nurses from our body to nurse them; the mother and father attended this child, night and day, and showed the tenderest care towards him—every care was taken to avoid the spread of infection—our sect has adopted vaccination, and we carefully practise all methods of disinfection and avoiding the spread of contagious disorders. EDWARD ARUNDEL CARTTAR. I reside at Greenwich, and am Coroner for

West Kent—I held an inquest on the dead body of Abraham Morby—the father was examined as a witness, and I heard him make this statement appended to the depositions. (Read: "I have Deen working by myself of late. Every precaution has been taken to prevent smallpox spreading any further. The patients have been kept in a room by themselves, carefully disinfected. I have carefully disinfected the house. The patients were well attended to night and day, and always carefully according to the disease.") MR. KINGSFORD. I submit that there is no case to go to the Jury. In the face of the Queen v. Downes I do not contend that, although the prisoner acted on his sincere convictions, he was not guilty of a breach of the statutory duty under the 31 and 32 Victoria, but in this case, and in every other case which has been tried, another question for the Jury has been, was that breach of duty tlie cause of death?

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. Or was it the cause of accelerating the death because, if it was even by an hour, I should hold that sufficient.

MR. KINGSFORD. That has never been considered except in one case, "Stockdale's case," reported in" 2 Lewis's Reports of Northern Circuit Cases," p. 220; that is the only authority, as far as I know, upon mere acceleration of death. But there is no proof here that the death was accelerated, and the medical man will not say thai death would have been prolonged, or that it was the absence of medical advice which probably accelerated the death. All he said was that the chances were that life might have been prolonged. That will not be sufficient. It must be proved to be the immediate and direct cause of death. My propositions are these: That the evidence of the doctor does not establish acceleration; that it does not in any way show that the want of medical aid was the cause of death; and that it does not show that the want of medical aid was the direct and immediate cause of death: and I submit that these are propositions to be established. (Set the Queen v. Wagstaff; the Queen v. Bournes, Sessions Paper, vol 82, p. 222; and the Queen v. p ocock, 17 Q B 34.)

Upon this, MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS recalled DR. SHARP. Q. In your judgment, if medical advice and assistance had been called in at any stage of this disease, might the death have been averted altogether?—A. I can only answer that by saying that it might have been—ours is not a positive science—it might have been averted if medical aid had been called in at any earlier stage; I am unable to say whether it probably would. I might say probably, as to whether life might have been prolonged. I cannot say that death would probably have been averted; I think it probable that life might have been prolonged; I can only say probably might, because I did not see the case while living. I am unable to say that life would probably have been prolonged because I did not see the case during life; had I done so I might have been able to answer the question.

MR. KINGSFORD submitted that this left the case precisely as it was before.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. The inclination of my opinion is that it is a fit case to have discussed, and to have the question settled. The question of acceleration becomes important in this way: It may be that a man receives a wound which, if carefully attended to, although it may not prevent death ensuing at some distant period, may nevertheless prolong his life for months. As at present advised, if the Jury think death was accelerated even by an hour, in consequence of the want of medical advice, I should direct them to

find this prisoner guilty. I should say that it was manslaughter in the eye of the law; but I should probably think it right to submit the case for the opinion of the Judges of the Criminal Court of Appeal, simply for the purpose of settling the point of law, about which I entertain a very strong opinion.

In answer to questions by the learned Judge, the Jury found that the child died of smallpox; that life would probably have been prolonged if medical advice had been called in; and that the prisoner, having the means, wilfully omitted and neglected to call in such medical aid when it was reasonable and proper for him to do so.

Upon these findings MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS directed a verdict of


The prisoner was released on bail, to appear for judgment when called upon. Conviction afterwards quashed by the Court for Crown Cases Reserved.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-364
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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364. JANE BOWERS (35) and EMMA JENNAWAY (21) , Stealing 9s. 9 1/2 d. the moneys of Edward Sarson.

MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.

MARY SARSON . I am the wife of Edward Sarson, baker, of 176, Evelyn Street, Deptford—on Saturday, 28th January, Jennaway came in about 9.15 p.m. for a pint of split peas—they were 2 1/2 d.—she gave me a halfsovereign—I gave her 9s. 9 1/2 d. change—Bowers then asked for a twopenny loaf—Elizabeth Bolton was in the shop—Jennaway said "Do you know what you have given me?"—I said" Don't you know what you gave me?" and she took the halfsovereign from my hand—I said" Give me my silver back"—she put the halfsovereign with ten shillings' worth of silver that she had in her other hand and said "I have come without my purse, could you take a pound's worth, of silver of me?"—she gave me the halfsovereign and ten shillings' worth of silver, and I went and got a sovereign from Mr. Sarson and gave her—both the prisoners left; I had not the twopenny loaf—I was confused; I did not know what I was doing—my husband came in directly they left, and I had some talk with him—then he went out after the prisoners—in the shop Bowers said "Are you in here?"—Jennaway said" I am coming to live about here"—I next saw them when Mr. Sarson brought them to the door about half an hour afterwards.

Cross-examined by Bowers. You were not in the shop when she gave me any money—I did not serve you with anything—you were there a few minutes—I gave her the sovereign while you were in the shop.

Cross-examined by Jennaway. I did not miss any money till after you left; then the till was empty and I had no gold for it—I said nothing about missing the money at the police-court.

ELIZABETH BOLTON . I live at 3, Victoria Road, Deptford—I am three years old—I was passing through the shop—I saw the prisoners—Mrs. Sarson gave a sovereign to Jennaway—I heard Bowers confusing Mrs. Sarson about a twopenny loaf—Mr. Sarson was in the shop parlour—a conversation occurred in the shop—I went with Mr. Sarson to try to find the prisoners—we saw them in a porkbutcher's shop together—Mr. Sarson went for the constable and I followed them as far as the Black Horse and back to the Mansion House public-house—they were taken in custody.

Cross-examined by Bowers. My master and my cousin did not tell me what to say.

Cross-examined by Jennaway. I was going into the shop parlour—I had a little boy with me and a baby in my arms.

EDWARD SARSON . I am a baker at Evelyn Street, Deptford—I was in the shop parlour asleep—my wife came in—we had some conversation—I went to look for the prisoners with Bolton—in coming back to the shop we saw them in a porkbutcher's, about 250 yards from the shopthat was nearly half an hour after we left the shop—I watched them out, then I went into the porkbutcher's—I said something to a woman and came out again—I went to the station, leaving Bolton to follow them—I found two constables—we afterwards mot them together, and I said in their hearing that I would give them in charge for cheating my Missis—both said "I have never been in the shop"—at the station they denied all knowledge of each other—I said "Very likely they have the peas in the bag"—they said "We have not any peas with us"—Bowers said "The lady is quite a stranger to me."

MAURICE KAVANGH (Policeman R 226). On Saturday evening, the 28th February, Mr. Sarson made a communication to me at the station, and I went to Evelyn Street—he pointed out the prisoners together—the prosecutor said he would give them into custody for ringing the changes—I took Bowers—Jennaway appeared snrprised, and said "I have not done anything"—I said "I should take her in custody"—she said" What for?"—I said "For ringing the changes"—she said "I was not in the shop"—Bowers was tying up her dress—Jennaway said "I do not know anything of her"—Bowers said" She is a stranger to me, 1 have never seen her before"—Jennaway said she did not like her friends to know, and would not give her address—she afterwards gave an address—I went there and could not find her—Mrs. Sarson said they were in her shop; they both said that they were not—Bowers handed over to me 24s. in silver and 6 1/2 d. in bronze at the station.

Cross-examined by Bowers. I did not find either of your addresses correct.

MARY HAWKINS . I am female searcher at Deptford Policestation—I searched the prisoners between 10 and 11 p.m. on 28 th January—on Jennaway I found 9s. in silver and 6d. in bronze—Bowers gave up in my presence 24s. in silver and 6 1/4 d. in bronze—she said "I may as well give this downstairs as with you," and she put it on the table—I searched their straw bag and found 15 or 16 separate articles; suet and other things.

Bowers's Defence. I know nothing about the transaction. I am a widow with five children; my husband has been dead fifteen months.

Jennaway's Defence. I am an unfortunate girl. What money I had was given me by a gentleman I had been with in the evening.


JENNAWAY— GUILTY . **†— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-365
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

365. JANE BOWERS was again indicted for conspiring with Emma Jennaway to obtain moneys by false pretences from Edward Sarson, on which no evidence was offered.


Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-366
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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366. HENRY BARNET (54) , Stealing a watch, the goods of Alfred Baker.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

JEMIMA JANE BAKER . I am the wife of Alfred Baker, of 1, Walpole Road, Deptford—on 28th January the prisoner came to look at some apartments in my house, with a woman and child—he went into the front room, and I went to show the woman the back room, and while I was leaving the prisoner followed me—a watch was on the drawers, which he would have to pass—I objected to let him the apartments because he had three children—I gave information to a constable, and shortly afterwards identified the prisoner.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not tell the woman I would make it warm for you—I never saw her before—you did not owe me rent; you never lived in my house.

MARY ANN OSBORNE . I live at 8, Walpole Street, Deptford—on Saturday afternoon, 28th January, the prisoner came to look at some apartments, with a woman and child—I showed him the room over the back parlour—as he came upstairs I saw him take a watch like this (produced) out of his trousers pocket—about two minutes after seeing it, a policeman came, and inquired if any one had been to look at apartments—I said "Yes," and showed him the people—I was present afterwards when the policeman found the watch between the bed and the mattress in the room where the prisoner had been—only myself had occupied that room, and I had not been in it after the prisoner was taken till the constable came back.

JOHN BAKER . I received information, and went to 8, Walpole Street—1 left Mrs. Baker at the top of the street—I saw the prisoner looking out of one of the windows—I knocked at the door, and asked to see the prisoner—Mrs. Osborne showed me into the room where he was—I told him from the description I had had I should arrest him for stealing a watch from Walpole Street—he said "I know nothing about it; it is got up for me, and I will make some one suffer for it"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—an hour afterwards I went back to the house where I had apprehended him—I searched the room, and found the watch concealed between the bed and the mattress.


He also PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of a misdemeanour at this Court in April, 1877.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.


Wednesday, March 9th, 1882, and five following days.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-367
VerdictGuilty > unknown

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367. GEORGE HENRY LAMSON (29) was indicted for the wilful murder of Percy Malcolm John. He was also charged On the Coroner's Inquisition with the like murder. THE SOLICITORGENERAL with MESSRS. POLAND and A. L. SMITH Prosecuted;


W. H. ROBSON Defended.

WILLIAM HENRY BEDBROOK . I am the proprietor of the Blenheim House School at Wimbledon—I had a pupil named Percy Malcolm John—he had been with me three years, and would have been 19 years of age on 18th December—he was placed with me by Mr. Chapman, his brother-in-law—he was paralysed in the lower limbs and unable to walk,

and there were for his use two wheel chairs, one of which was kept on the secondfloor, where he slept, and the other in the basement, where he was during the day—in December two or three other boys occupied the same room with him—they were Bell, Hay, and another, whose name I do not recollect—it was the custom for one of the boys to carry him every morning from the secondfloor to the basement for him to spend the day, and to carry him up again at night in the same way—on Saturday, 3rd December, he was carried down in the usual way to the basement—I saw him from time to time during the day, and with the exception of the paralysis in the lower limbs he was in perfect health and spirits—during the three years he was with me he was only attended by a doctor for ordinary ailments, for no serious illness—he was usually cheerful, but at times despondent, particularly when he saw the other boys enjoying a game; he was particularly fond of games, although not able to join in them—on Friday, 2nd December, he was not visited by any one—he informed me that he expected a visit—the letter produced is in the prisoner's handwriting, but I did not see it till after the death. (The letter was read, and was as follows: "Nelson's Hotel, Great Portland Street, London, Dec. 1, 1881.—My dear Percy,—I had intended running down to Wimbledon to see you today, but I have been delayed by various matters until it is now nearly 6 o'clock, and by the time I should reach Blenheim House you would probably be preparing for bed. I leave for Paris and Florence tomorrow, and wish to see you before going. So I purpose to run down to your place as early as I can, for a few minutes even, if I can accomplish no more.—Believe me, dear boy, your loving brother, G. H. LAMSON. ") On Saturday, 3rd December, the prisoner called at five minutes to 7 o'clock in the evening—I cannot say how long it was since I had last seen him; it must have been some weeks—I knew that he was the deceased's brother-in-law, and that he had married one sister and Mr. Chapman the other—I saw the prisoner in the hall when he called, and at first I did not know him—he was very much thinner, and I remarked to him how much he had changed since I had last seen him—I took him through the drawingroom into the diningroom on the ground floor, where the boys usually see their friends—he said he had come to see his brother-in-law, and I sent for the deceased—Mr. Banbury, one of the pupils, carried him up from the basement into the diningroom and put him into a chair—the prisoner said to Mr. Banbury "I thought you would have been in India by this time," referring to his passing into the Army—the prisoner then said to the deceased" Why, how fat you are looking, Percy, old boy," and the deceased replied "I wish I could say the same of you, George"—Mr. Banbury then left the room—I asked the prisoner whether he would have some wine, and he replied that he would take some sherry—knowing his fondness for sherry I got a large claret glass from the waggon and poured him out some sherry into it—after a conversation upon several subjects, the prisoner asked me for some sugar, saying that these wines contained a large quantity of brandy, and that the sugar would destroy the alcoholic effects—I told him I understood the contrary was the case—I rang the bell for some sugar—Mrs. Bowles, the matron, brought a basin containing white powdered sugar—the prisoner put some sugar into the sherry, stirred it with his penknife, and then drank a portion of the wine—he had a black leather bag with him at the time and he took from it some Dundee cake

and some sweets—he cut some of the cake with his penknife, and I took some of it and some of the sweets—the deceased took some cake and sweets as well—I did not see the deceased take any wine—the prisoner was eating the cake daring the whole of the interview—after talking for some little time upon general matters, at a quarter-past 7 o'clock the prisoner said "Oh, by the way, Mr. Bedbrook, when I was in America I thought of you and your boys; I thought what excellent things these capsules would be for your boys to take nauseous medicines in"—he then produced two boxes containing capsules from his bag, and passed one in the direction where I was standing, saying "I should like you to try one, to see how easily they can be swallowed"—after examining them I took one out of the box and put it in my mouth—I opened them the same as one would a pillbox—the box was handed to me open—it was hardly half full—the capsules were precisely like these (produced)—holding it in my hand the heat of my hand made it exceedingly soft, and I was able very easily to swallow it—the other box was immediately in front of him—I do not think the capsules were all the same size—while I was examining the capsule, which was empty, I saw the prisoner filling another with sugar from the basin in front of him, with a small spade spoon—I could not say where he took it from—he had the capsule between his fingers, and, having apparently filled it with sugar, he said" If you shake it in this way it will bring the medicine down to one end"—he then handed the capsule to the deceased, who was sitting on his right, about a yard from him, and said "Here, Percy, you are a swell pilltaker; take this, and show Mr. Bedbrook how easily it may be swallowed," or words to that effect—the deceased placed the capsule in his mouth as far back as he could to the root of the tongue, and with one gulp it was gone—I remarked" That's soon gone, my boy"—the prisoner then said "I must be going now"—I at once looked at the timecard to see the next train for London; it was then 7.20 or thereabouts, and I told him the next train left at 7.21, and advised him to go at once or he would miss it; I had previously asked him to remain a little longer till the next train, which was 7.50—he said "I cannot, because I have to catch a train at 8 o'clock at London Bridge en route for the Continent"—he told me he was going to Florence via Paris—my house is close to the Wimbledon Station of the SouthWestern Railway, not a minute's walk from it—he stayed more than another minute, and I remarked that he would miss the train if he did not go at once—he said "I intend to go to Florence for a few months for the benefit of my health, and then return and settle down in England"—he then said goodbye to the deceased—I accompanied him through the drawingroom to the street door, and remarked to him that I thought the curvature of the deceased's spine was getting worse—he said that he did not think the boy could last long—I made no reply—he left the house at 21 or 22 minutes past 7 o'clock, leaving behind the two boxes of capsules; I placed them upon the waggon in the diningroom—the prisoner, within five minutes of the deceased swallowing the capsule, said "I must be going"—after he left I returned to the diningroom, where the deceased was—the cake and sweets were removed on to the dinnerwaggon in the course of an hour, and I think the sugarbasin also—I had visitors that evening; two young ladies went into the diningroom where the deceased was, and played music and sang glees for ten or fifteen minutes—I left the room with them, but shortly afterwards returned; the deceased was

still there, and directly I got back he said "I feel as if I had an attack of heartburn"—I returned to my guests and left him reading some papers which the prisoner had left with him; I returned in perhaps five minutes, and the deceased said "I feel as I felt after my brother-in-law had given me a quinine pill at Shanklin," and he said he should like to go to bed—I gave orders that he should be taken to bed, and Mr. Bell, a fellowpupil, carried him upstairs; that was between 8 and 9 o'clock; about half an hour afterwards I received a communication as to his state, and went up into his bedroom, and found him lying on the bed in his clothes, apparently in great pain and vomiting violently; I saw the vomit on the floor, on the bed, and in a basin—the matron and Mr. Godward, a junior master, were in attendance upon him—the deceased appeared to be in great pain, and was throwing himself about most violently—he complained that his throat appeared to be closing, and his skin seemed to be drawn up—I left the room for a time, leaving the matron there and Mr. Godward and one or two of the boys; I returned shortly to find that he was much worse; Dr. Berry had just arrived as a guest, and I got him to go and see him; Dr. Little was likewise in the house, and those two attended the deceased till his death, at about 11.30—I was in the bathroom the same evening and saw some of the vomit there and also on the floor, and a small quantity in the pan—I went to the policestation next morning and gave information to Inspector Fuller—before the deceased died an envelope containing some money was brought to my house for him—I do not know what has become of the envelope—I opened it inadvertently, and apologised to him for having done so—I gave information to Inspector Fuller next morning; he came to my house and I gave him the two boxes of capsules, which had been left in the diningroom—I had noticed that the boxes contained some white pills in addition to the capsules—the label produced, with the name" George Henry Lamson, M.D., care of H.F. Gilling and Co., 499, Strand, London, England," was lying at the bottom of one of the boxes; I gave it to Inspector Fuller, and the cake and sweets and a sample of sugar, and also the whole of it and the bottle of sherry—two of the deceased's boxes were searched, I am not certain whether on the Sunday or Monday; a small box of quinine powders was found; I had seen the box before in the bedroom and dining room and in the basement—the powders were given to Inspector Fuller—a box containing two pills wrapped in tinfoil was afterwards brought to me by the matron, and I gave it to the inspector—I had received a box similar to that by post from America from the prisoner with a letter; I have searched everywhere for the letter, but cannot find it, and I am persuaded that I destroyed it—it must have been about the beginning of 1881—the box contained from ten to twelve pills; the letter stated that the prisoner had met some one in America suffering from a similar complaint, and had derived great benefit from taking medicine similar to that forwarded, and he asked me to see that the boy took the medicine—after I received the pills I saw the deceased, who was in bed, and gave him one of the pills to take, telling him what his brother-in-law had said respecting it—I did not wait to see whether he took it, but next morning he complained of feeling very unwell—the box was lying on the bed, and he said he should take no more of the pills, and I took it downstairs—I was under the impression that I had thrown it away, till it was found containing

pills coated in tinfoil in the same way, but how it got into his possession I do not know—I afterwards saw some wafers which were found in one of the boxes, and gave them to Inspector Fuller—on the day the deceased died I had all my meals with him, breakfast, dinner at 1.30, and tea—he had his tea about an hour and a quarter before the prisoner came to see him—I do not think he had anything after his tea except the cake—for breakfast he had bread and butter and coffee; for dinner stewed rabbits, onion sauce, potatoes, bread, and bread and butter pudding; and for tea, bread and butter and tea with its usual accompaniments—he used sometimes to go to his brother-in-law's, Mr. Chapman's, at Willesden, and also to the prisoner's at Bournemouth—at Shanklin also he stayed with Mr. Chapman—I never was a director of any railway or steamboat company, and I never told the prisoner that there was a bad boat on any particular night.

Cross-examined. As a rule either the matron or I gave medicines to the pupils, and they would be such as were prescribed by the doctor—I had noticed that the deceased's curvative of the spine was getting worse—I told the prisoner so, and he said he did not think the boy would last long—he had made that observation to me on other occasions—I did not know that the deceased contemplated spending his Christmas holiday with the prisoner, or that he had written to his sister to that effect—this postcard is in his writing: "December 3, 1881. Dear old Kitten,—We break up on the 20th, Tuesday. I will write and tell you by what train I intend to come.—Yours, &c. To Mrs. G. H. Lamson, Tangmore Hotel, Tangmore, near Chichester, Sussex. "On the occasion of the prisoner's visit I told him I was glad he had not come the day before, as the deceased was undergoing a school examination, and he had generally been excited in his examinations—when the capsules were taken out of the bag the prisoner was sitting down—I was standing the whole time, and was above them—the deceased was on the prisoner's right, about a yard from him—when the prisoner put the sugar into the capsule he was sitting—I took one of the capsules quite at haphazard from the box, looked at it, and swallowed it—I said before the Magistrate "While he was taking wine and conversing I saw the prisoner filling a capsule with sugar which he took out of a basin with a spadespoon"—I swallowed one that was empty—he had the capsule in his left hand, and I saw him take the sugar into the shovel in his right hand and put it into the capsule—the sugarbasin was directly in front of him—he said that any nauseous medicine could be taken in the capsule—the deceased sat very close to him—the quinine powders I had seen were in the possession of the deceased, and I was aware he was taking them—the pills when they came from America were 11 or 12 in all in the box, and the deceased only took one which I gave him—I took the box downstairs, and was under the impression I had thrown it away—I am certain I did not give the box and the pills back to the deceased—I never saw either again until after his death—I am not certain that the two pills found in the box were those which came from America—I said before the Magistrates that I could not recollect whether the letter from America said anything about the pills, but I have since remembered—the prisoner recalled my memory to the letter, and that refreshed it—I then recollected the statement that the pills had been prescribed for some person in America—there were directions in the prisoner's handwriting on the box—the deceased had suffered

from paralysis during the whole time I knew him—he was always unable to walk—the diningroom is from 16 feet to 17 feet square—from the time the prisoner left until I returned to the room not more than two or three minutes had elapsed, and, as far as I know, during that time the deceased had been alone—after I had seen the prisoner out I came back, and remained with the deceased about 10 or 15 minutes, when I again left the room, and left him about 10 minutes—when I returned I found Banbury with him, and then it was that he complained of being ill of heartburn—there were only two boxes of capsules, and both were left behind—some two or three of the capsules had white pills or comfits in them—everything left behind was handed to the police—Mrs. Bowles was not in the room—we all partook of the cake and sweets, the prisoner, the deceased, and myself—the prisoner helped the cake; he cut it with his penknife—I can't say for certain how many of those that were left behind had the white comfit or pill in them; two or three—they were very much like the ordinary sweets, carraways or comfits—I said before the Magistrate that one capsule containing a white pill was left behind—I think they were placed on the dinnerwaggon, and I found them in the same place, and gave them to the police—it was a welllighted room—I first noticed the capsules when I returned with the doctors after the boy's death—I can't say who noticed them first; I believe I did; I mean in the box—several were loose and two or three were in the capsules—I can't tell in which box they were—I had not noticed the deceased ailing at all, except the curvature of the spine; that had not affected his general health—he was better this last term than since he had been with me.

By the JURY. No special kind of sugar was asked for; I was asked to provide some sugar, that was all—I brought up the usual white pounded sugar—my brother-in-law, who was staying with me at the time, tasted two or three of the capsules taken from the box; not while the prisoner was in the room—I am quite certain that none were partaken of by any one else while the prisoner was in the room.

WALTER EDWARD BANBURY . In December last I was a pupil at Mr. Bedbrook's—I had been there for eight years, and knew the deceased very well; he was an intimate friend of mine—after breakfast on the morning of 3rd December I had to go to town for an examination, and I returned by the 5.30 train from Waterloo—on my arrival at Mr. Bedbrook's I found the boys at tea, the deceased being among the number—after tea I showed the deceased the examination papers; he said they were rather difficult—I remained with him till he was sent for to go upstairs—that was a quarter of an hour after I had finished tea—at that time he was in good health and spirits—I carried him up from the basement into the diningroom—I there saw the prisoner, whom I had known previously—I remained a short time, and then left—after the prisoner had left, and before the deceased was taken to bed, I went into the diningroom, remained five or six minutes, took a capsule, but it had no effect on me—in consequence of what I heard I went to the deceased's bedroom, looked into the door, and went down again—the deceased was lying on the bed, and several persons were round him—I again went up and saw him in bed—he was struggling very hard with those who were holding him down—I remained a short time and then left, and I was not present when the deceased died.

Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner, and had been to stay at his house at Bournemouth with the deceased in the summer of 1880—I had seen

the box of quinine powders in the possession of the deceased, and had taken one of the powders, but it had no ill-effects on me; I did not take it out of the box, Percy gave it me; I took it in one of the wafers produced—I had three or four times seen the deceased get powders from the box and take them in wafers—on 3rd December after the prisoner had gone I took one of the capsules from a box on the table and swallowed it, it was an empty one—when I came down after the prisoner had gone I found Mr. Bedbrook with the deceased—Mr. Bedbrook left the room, I remained five or six minutes, and then left, leaving the deceased alone, and I next saw him nearly an hour later in his bedroom.

Re-examined. At the time the young ladies were there Mr. Bedbrook was at the piano; I do not think he saw me enter—I do not think I went into the room again before the deceased was carried upstairs.

JOSEPH BELL . I was a pupil at Mr. Bedbrook's last December, and was on intimate terms with the deceased; we slept in the same room—I had breakfast with him on 3rd December, and was with him a great part of the morning—we did no work that morning; it was a holiday—I went out at 10 o'clock for a walk, and did not return till about 6 p.m. for tea; he was there then—tea was over when I came in—I sat by the deceased in the dining-room; he was in very good spirits and health—he was taken up by Banbury to the dining-room, and later in the evening I was called up there; I took him up to his bedroom—he com-plained of heartburn, and I carried him up on my back to his bedroom—I sat him on his bed, went downstairs again, and told Mrs. Bowles—I did not go up again till I went up to bed, between 8 and 9 o'clock—I then found him in the bath-room vomiting; that is on the same floor as the watercloset.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate "I took him upstairs from the dining-room about 5 minutes to 9 o'clock; I carried him up. "

Re-examined. I afterwards added "I think it was about 5 minutes to 9 o'clock, but I can't fix the time. "

Thursday, March 9 th.

MARY ANN BOWLES . I am matron at Mr. Bedbrook's school, and was so in December last—I knew the deceased, and saw him on Saturday, December 3—he was in perfect health and excellent spirits—on that evening, before the prisoner came, charades were being played by the boys, and the deceased took part in guessing the words—that was before tea, and I saw him after tea as late as 6.30—up to that time he was in good health and spirits—that evening I was told to fetch some sugar, and got some off the kitchen dresser—it was in a glass sugar basin with an electro frame, and had a spade spoon in it for the purpose of ladling it out—the sugar had been in use in the house for two days previously—it was what is commonly called "castor sugar"—I took it up to the dining-room and placed it on the table—the deceased, Mr. Bedbrook, and the prisoner were in the room—I left the room after taking the sugar up—half an hour afterwards I had a communication with respect to the deceased, and ordered Bell to take him to bed—I went into the dining-room—the de-ceased did not seem quite so well as when I saw him last, but he said nothing to me then—when I went into the dining-room I saw a capsule in Bell's hand—Bell took the deceased upstairs, and about 20 minutes or half an hour afterwards I went to see him in consequence of a communi-cation made to me—I saw him in the bath-room vomiting, he appeared

in very great pain; he was taken into his bedroom—he was sitting is his chair in the bedroom when I ordered him brandy and water—he appeared in very great pain—I remember Dr. Berry coming up to see him; he was the doctor who usually attended the pupils, and was in the house that night—subsequently Dr. Little also came up—I remained with him till the time of his death—he remained in violent pain till he died; there was no cessation of the pain—he seemed to grow a great deal worse, and had to be held down to his bed—both Dr. Berry and Dr. Little were then present—I saw the deceased's boxes searched and the box of quinine powders found in his clothes-box, which was kept in his bedroom—I had seen that box before in the clothes-box—I do not know to whom the box of powders was given—I found the tin box con-taining the two pills in the deceased's play-box, which was usually kept downstairs in the clothes-room; but it was upstairs on the same floor when I found it—I do not know to whom the box of pills was given—after his death the sugar, which had remained in the dining-room, was given to Inspector Fuller—the sherry also remained in the dining-room, and it was likewise given to Inspector Fuller, together with the cake, sweets, and wafers.

Cross-examined. I did not say before the Magistrate that the box was taken to the clothes-room before his death—if I did say so it was a mistake, as it was not brought up till after his death—before he died it was down in the cupboard in the lower dining-room—before the Magistrate I said "I never saw the box of pills before his death, I cannot say how it came into the box"—I had seen the box of quinine powders—I never opened it—it might have been half-past 8 when Bell took the deceased upstairs—he was talking to Bell when I went into the room, and it was about half an hour after when I saw him in the bath-room—I had been at Mr. Bedbrook's 14 months while he was a pupil there—I had noticed that the curvature of the spine was getting worse—I was in the habit of conversing with him very often—I did not know that he had written that day to the prisoner's wife to say by what train he was coming down to spend his Christmas holidays with her—I knew he had spent his holiday from time to time at the prisoner's—I knew that he had been from time to time amusing himself with chemistry—usually speaking, it would be my duty to give medicine to the boys—I have given medicine to the boys on my own account, and also medicine prescribed by the doctors—if medicine was sent by the doctor, I should give it to the boys myself.

Re-examined. The deceased had not amused himself with chemistry during the last term, which commenced in September. The chemicals were kept in a cupboard on the first floor—I did not have charge of them—during the 3rd of December from the time he was carried down in the morning till he was taken up again at night, he had not been up to the, first floor—I was a good deal upstairs on the first and second floors attending to household duties that day—after his death I found this letter in his coat pocket.

By MR. WILLIAMS. The 3rd of December was a holiday—I did say before the Magistrates" On the 3rd of December I did not see the deceased during the afternoon;" but I misunderstood the question—my evidence was read over, but I did not correct it at the time—I did not notice the mistake till I read it in the newspapers afterwards, and I wish to correct it now—I did see him during that afternoon in the lower dining-room, the basement—that is the same room where the box of pills

was found after his death—I saw him frequently during the afternoon, and as late as 6.30 in the evening—the dinner was at 1 o'clock that day, and it was after dinner that I saw him in the dining-room—I was attend-ing to my duties in different parts of the house during the afternoon, and in the morning I was engaged in the clothes-room—that was in the same house as Percy's bedroom and as the downstairs dining-room; the school consists of two houses, and my duties took me to both; they communicate internally—I said before the Coroner "I saw the deceased in the bath-room shortly after, he was very ill and vomited; he said he had taken a quinine pill"—the words were" My brother-in-law has given me a quinine pill"—I asked him if the pill he had at Shanklin made him feel as bad, and he said "No"—he said "My skin feels all drawn up, and my throat burning"—that is all I can remember—I was not examined before the Coroner the first day of the inquest—I did not say a word before the Coroner about a quinine pill which his brother-in-law had given him.

By the COURT. I was only a short time under examination before the Coroner—when the deceased was seated in his chair in a room and left to himself he could not get up and get anything from the other end of the room; he could not stir—he had a chair with which he could wheel him-self to any part of the same floor, but he could not get out of his chair to walk—it was a little higher than an ordinary chair, and he could get out of it and sit on the floor, and get back again—I never know him to get upstairs without assistance—he spent his last Midsummer vacation at the prisoner's at Shanklin—I can't tell you when they commenced—I have seen him doing very little with chemicals; but I have seen him making some sort of gas, nothing more.

By the JURY. The lock of the deceased's clothes-box in his bedroom in which the quinine powders were kept was broken, and there was no key to it; any person could get to the box—I do not know whether there was a lock on the play-box containing the box of pills, but it was not kept locked; it was open to all—he amused himself with chemicals simply for pastime, not for study—I only saw him making gas—the medicines and chemicals were kept in the same cupboard, which was not locked; it had a button, but anybody could go to it—there is a communication between the two houses both on the basement and on the first floor, but not on the top floor—the deceased's bedroom was on the third floor—I call the first floor the one above the basement; I do not call that the ground floor.

WILLIAM HENRY BEDBROOK (Re-examined). I had some chemicals in my house—they were kept in the cupboard on the first floor, the floor above the basement—it was fastened by a button within a few inches of the top—about 6 ft. 6 in. from the floor—you can reach it standing—they were principally acids used in making gases, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen—they were kept entirely for the use of my science master, Mr. Eastwick—the last term ended on 29th July, and the Christmas term commenced on 18th September, as near as I remember—during the term beginning 18th September the deceased did not use any of these chemicals, and none of the other pupils did—the deceased used them frequently during the previous term, both alone and in my presence—they were kept on the second shelf of the cupboard, 4 ft. from the ground.

By MR. WILLIAMS. The chemicals were sulphuric and nitric acids and so on, but I will not be certain—there was no sulphate of zinc—I have

seen portions of zinc metal—I have heard that sulphuric acid poured on to zinc forms sulphate of zinc; I am not a chemist—I have seen zinc dropped into a bottle and the gas freed by the application of sulphuric acid—when the deceased was in the habit of using chemicals he did so for the purpose of making gas.

By MR. POLAND. Some chemicals of the same kind are in the cupboard now—the deceased could not reach the shelf 4 ft. from the ground; he would have to call in the aid of another person if he wanted to get them; he was in the habit of being waited upon by the other boys.

ALEXANDER WATT . I am classical master at Mr. Bedbrook's school—I was with the deceased on 3rd December a considerable part of the day in the lower dining-room, till after tea, about 6 o'clock—up to that time he was in his ordinary health and spirits—I had taken meals with him—the next time I saw him was between 8 and 9, in the bath-room, and apparently in great pain—he was vomiting—I afterwards saw him in his bedroom, and attended upon him till he died.

Cross-examined. When I got into the bath-room I found the matron there, I think, and Mr. Godward.

ALFRED GODWARD . I was assistant-master at Mr. Bedbrook's; I had been there for two years—on 3rd December I saw the deceased in the schoolroom, which is an outbuilding, just before 9 o'clock—he was in his usual state of health—I then took the boys for a walk—I next saw him at a little after 12 in the dining-room—I had dinner with him, and saw him again until a quarter-past 2 o'clock—he was in his usual health—I then went home—I next saw him between half-past 7 and 8 o'clock in the bath-room—I remained with him—he was vomiting—I helped to wheel him into his bedroom, which was on the same floor—I put him on his bed and undressed him—he appeared to be in pain, and was restless—I remained with him until Dr. Berry came, and I was there when Dr. Little came—I stayed until a little before 11 o'clock—while in the bedroom he appeared to get worse—I helped to hold him on his bed—he was retching, and he vomited.

Cross-examined. It was nearly 8 o'clock when I was in the bath-room—he was alone; the boys were outside—the matron came into the bath-room after I arrived—I remained with him all the time he was in the bath-room, except for a few minutes while I went down to see the matron—I first sent a boy down, and subsequently I went down myself, and returned before the matron—I left the bedroom once, and was absent not more than 10 minutes—I left the matron and the doctors there—that was quite an hour and a half before his death—when I returned the matron and doctors were still there.

Re-examined. It was about a quarter of an hour from the time the matron came into the bath-room before he was taken to his bedroom—he spoke to me as to his symptoms—he said he felt that his skin felt all drawn up, and also that his mouth was very painful—I do not think he described any other symptoms—he said he had taken a pill that his brother-in-law had given him—he said two or three moments afterwards that it was a quinine pill—he said that first before Mrs. Bowles came into the room, and several times afterwards—in Mrs. Bowles's presence he said "I have taken a quinine pill which my brother-in-law gave me"—Mrs. Bowles spoke to him, but I can't tell you what she said—he said" I took one before at Shanklin, and was nearly as bad then. "

By MR. WILLIAMS. I was not examined at the inquest; I went there—I do not think I have ever before stated in evidence that the deceased said he had taken a quinine pill which his brother-in-law had given him—Mr. Bedbrook was not present when this conversation about Shanklin took place—I have a distinct recollection of what was said—the deceased told Mrs. Bowles that he had taken one before at Shanklin, and was nearly as bad——I do not remember that Mrs. Bowles made any remark; she asked him what he had taken, and that was the answer to her question.

By MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS. He made several observations, but I do not remember them—I do not remember any further observations about the pill.

MARY ANN BOWLES (Re-examined by the Jury). It was my duty to give the boys medicine when they required it—I gave the deceased medicine once; that was before we broke up for the Midsummer holidays—I used to keep the medicine by me; they were Seidletz powders and Pyretic saline; no other medicines—I do not remember any chemicals being procured for or by any of the pupils other than those allowed by the masters.

By the COURT. The deceased's second-best clothes were kept in his clothes-box, and any particular book that he chose to keep there—if he wanted anything from his box he had to get somebody to get it for him; he could not get it himself—the play-box was kept in a cupboard in the lower dining-room—he could get at that without assistance, by wheeling his chair to the cupboard—the clothes-box was in his bedroom.

OTHER WINDSOR BERRY . I am a surgeon and registered medical practitioner, practising at Wimbledon—I knew the deceased Percy Mal-colm John, and had known him about a year and a half; I had frequently seen him before the 3rd of December—I had attended him for one slight illness in March, 1881, while he was at the school—it was a little skin eruption—in June, 1881, I vaccinated him—those were the only occasions—with the exception of the paralysis of his lower limbs his health I believe was generally good—on Saturday, the 3rd of December, I was at the school; Mr. Bedbrook met me as I went in at the hall door about 8.55—I was going as a guest—I went up into Percy John's bedroom at once; he was on one of the beds, and partially undressed; he was in great pain in his stomach; he complained of the skin of his face being drawn, also of a sense of constriction in his throat, and of being unable to swallow; he was retching and vomiting; the vomit was a small quantity of dark-coloured fluid—I asked him, very shortly after, the cause of his illness—that was all he said about his symptoms (Mr. Bedbrook had made a com-munication to me as I was going upstairs) I said "Did your brother-in-law ever give you a quinine pill before?"—he said" Yes"—I then asked him when—he said "At Shanklin"—I then asked "Did it make you ill like this before?"—he answered" Yes, but not so bad"—I then asked "Did your brother-in-law know that it had made you ill like this?"—he answered" I cannot say"—that, as near as I can charge my memory, was what passed—there was nothing in an ordinary quinine pill that could produce such symptoms as those I saw—I did not at that time form any opinion as to what the symptoms were due to—I had some white of egg beaten up in water and given to him—that was during the intervals of his vomiting—he was able to swallow partially—I had hot linseed poultices

put to his stomach—he was very restless on the bed—violently so, throw-ing himself backwards and forwards, and from side to side—several people held him to prevent him from injuring himself—he did not improve at all under this treatment, and learning that Dr. Little was in the house I had him sent for; I knew him as a doctor also practising at Wimbledon—I had been in the bedroom with Percy John about 20 or 25 minutes when Dr. Little came up—we consulted as to the best thing to be done, and determined to inject morphia—I left the house to fetch an instrument for the purpose, and the morphia—I was away five or ten minutes—when I returned the deceased was no better, and I injected a quarter of a grain of morphia under the skin over the region of the stomach—that was about 10o'clock—the symptoms abated somewhat, though not very much, about 10.30—they were still all present, but in a modified degree—they returned again a little before 11 o'clock as severe as before the morphia was administered—in the interval, a little before 11 o'clock, he asked to have the morphia administered again—he complained of pains in his body; that was his expression—I administered l-6th of a grain of morphia in the same way and in the same place—that was about 11—it had no apparent effect—there was a change in him shortly after 11—about ten minutes past 11 he became a little unconscious and wandering—that was the time I noticed him becoming unconscious—his breathing became slower, and sighing, and his heart's action weaker and weaker—I gave him a little brandy and water—he died about 20 minutes past 11—he never rallied at all—at the time of his death I believed he must have had something of an irritant nature in his stomach—that was my judgment from what I saw—after his death Dr. Little and I collected the vomit—there was some in a basin in the bedroom—I went into the bath-room and collected some from the bath and some from the water-closet—the bath was empty—the closet was on the same floor—we found some vomit there on the floor—this we collected and put all together into a breakfast cup, and then into a clean bottle out of my surgery—I afterwards gave the bottle and its contents to Mr. Bond—on Tuesday, 6th December, I and Mr. Bond and Dr. Little jointly made a post-mortem examination—I have the notes I made at the time in the mortuary—with the exception of the paralysis of the lower limbs, he was a particularly muscular, well-developed young man—the brain was slightly congested superficially, and also the substance of the brain—when I said superficially I ought to have said the membranes of the brain—the brain itself was slightly congested—there was no fluid in the ventricles of the brain nor any under the membranes—the pupils of the eyes were dilated, lips pale, tongue bleached and pale—in the right lung there were some old adhe-sions, at the apex between the lung and the chest wall, the result of inflam-mation at some previous time—both lungs were healthy, but considerably congested in the lower part—the heart was healthy muscularly; the valves healthy; it was almost entirely empty and flaccid—there was a small quantity of fluid in the pericardium—the liver was normal in size; intensely congested—the kidneys were normal in size, but considerably congested—the spleen was also much congested, but normal in size—the mucous membrane of the stomach was congested throughout, and on the under surface near the larger end of the stomach were six or eight small yellowish-grey patches, a little raised, about the size of a small bean, and towards the smaller end were two or three similar smaller

spots—I believed from what I then saw, and I have not changed my opinion, that that was the result of inflammation caused recently before death—the stomach contained three or four ounces of dark fluid—that was carefully preserved, Mr. Bond taking charge of it—the first portion of the duodenum was greatly congested, and there were patches of con-gestion in other parts of the small intestine—portions of the intestines themselves were taken by Mr. Bond, who also took possession of the stomach itself, as well as portions of the liver, with the gall bladder, both kidneys, and part or the whole of the spleen—the bladder contained three or four ounces of urine, which was drawn off and taken possession of by Mr. Bond—there was no inflammation in the peritoneum—we examined the spinal cord; the membranes were greatly congested—these were all the appearances I noted on the post-mortem examination—except the appearance of the lungs and the curvature of the spine, there was no natural disease—neither what I observed in the lungs nor the curvature of the spine had anything to do with the cause of death—there was nothing to account for death from natural causes—in my judgment I should say that he died from the effects of some irritant vegetable poison—the administration of an irritant vegetable poison would, I believe, account for all the appearances I noted at the examination—there are certain poisons known as vegetable alkaloids—aconitine is one of those—the appearances would be consistent with the administration of a fatal dose—I have not special knowledge on this subject—in my judg-ment as a medical man I believe those appearances might be accounted for by the administration of a fatal dose of aconitine—I never use aconitine in my own practice—I have been in practice about 17 years——I dispense medicines—I have none of that drug in my dispensary—I believe it is a very powerful poison—I have no special knowledge, I mean derived from my own experience—I received two pills and two capsules at the house from Mr. Bedbrook—they were long, oval-shaped pills—I placed the pills in the capsules and gave them to Mr. Bond at the same time I gave him the vomit.

Cross-examined. Before the Magistrate I said I had never pre-viously seen a case of poisoning by vegetable alkaloids—I have no knowledge of the use of aconitine—I do not know that aconitine appears in the British Pharmacopœia—I do not know a book by Fleming on aconitine—I believe unguentum aconitiœ does appear in the Pharmacopœia, and that it is an ointment used by medical men—I have heard that it is a prescribed remedy for long-standing neuralgia—I do not know personally that the ointment of aconitia is used for acute and chronic rheumatism—I know that aconite is used for erysipelas—I know nothing whatever about aconitine proper—I do know that there is a drug called Morson's aconitine, and I have heard that it is the strongest form of aconitine—of aconite I know something, but of the active prin-ciple, aconitine, I know nothing of my own knowledge—I do know that aconite is used both internally and externally—it may be used internally for cancer in the stomach; it is used for erysipelas, pleuritis, and it may be used for spasmodic asthma—having no experience of aconitia, I am unable to say that a grain of aconitia properly blended into 20 pills would form a reasonable dose as a spinal sedative—I went to Mr. Bed-brook's on this night at about five minutes to 9—I was not fetched—I thought the boy was suffering from irritation of the stomach—I continued

to think so up to the time of his death—I had formed no opinion of the cause up to the time of his death—at the time I had no suspicion of vegetable alkaloids—I came to that conclusion after the post-mortem examination, not before, and my opinion was based, not upon any personal knowledge of poisoning by alkaloids, but was formed simply from my general knowledge—I have heard of "Fleming on Aconitine," but I have never studied the work—I have not read books by Turnbull or Skey on vegetable poisons—my object in injecting morphia was to allay the pain and nervous irritation; the white of egg was to allay the irritation of the stomach—I should have felt justified in using the morphia for allaying irritation of the stomach arising from natural causes, if accompanied by intense pain, and the same may be said of the white of egg—I was with him altogether rather over two hours—I was absent 5 or 10 minutes during that time——before his death his remarks became wandering—I examined the spinal cord and the spinal curvature—the spinal cora was healthy, bnt congested—the existence of paralysis such as I found in the boy was not inconsistent with the healthy state of that part of the spinal cord which I examined—the existence of spinal curvature is not, in my opinion, con-sistent with healthy bone and healthy intervertebral cartilage—I did not examine the condition of the arteries in the neighbourhood of the curva-ture—I am not aware that there are many cases in which death has resulted from the effects of the pressure on the arteries in the region of these curvatures—I am not prepared to say that there are not reports of such cases—I cannot undertake to say that death did not result from some such cause as you have sketched out—I did not examine to see the effect of the spinal curvature on the position of the lungs or upon the position of the heart—in cases of spinal curvature the lungs are frequently much dis-placed—if they had been much displaced in this case I should have observed it—the heart, too, is in such cases frequently very much dis-placed—I say that the irritation of the stomach which I observed was consistent with poisoning by vegetable alkaloids, although I have never seen a case of poisoning by vegetable alkaloids—the apparent irritation of the stomach had not the appearance of a post-mortem irritation—I only judged from what I saw—it may be that after death the stomach often appears inflamed—I do not deny that there may be appearances of inflammation from the settling of blood in the stomach after death—I describe aconitia as an irritant vegetable poison, but I have no knowledge of it—Taylor, in his work on poisons, mentions marks which would correspond to what I saw in the boy's body—he does not mention any cases of poisoning by aconitine—I do not know of any medical test for aconitine—what I said with regard to the emptiness of the heart applies to the entire heart; it was nearly empty of blood, and flaccid—while the boy was ill in the bedroom the vomit was discharged into a basin at first—that was thrown away—that which was shown to me as leaving been vomited before I came was kept—there was an ounce or an ounce and a half of it—it was the dark-coloured fluid which he vomited just after I saw him which was thrown away—the vomit in the bath was collected by Dr. Little in my presence—I think he scraped it from the bottom and sides with a spoon, and from the floor of the water-closet—it was all put together—some poisons are absorbed into the system, and would be found there—I am not an expert as to vegetable alkaloids, and cannot say how the amount which does the work would

be calculated—in poisoning by vegetable alkaloids I presume that the traces of the poison which had done its work would be found in the system, but I have no special knowledge on the subject; I only suppose—I cannot come to any conclusion as to the amount of poison which had caused death where some of it had been rejected by vomiting—the finding any traces of the actual quantity that had caused death is a question for an expert; I cannot answer it.

Re-examined. The deceased's remarks became wandering about ten minutes before his death—as far as I could see from the post-mortem examination, there was nothing in the condition of the curvature of the spine which could have caused death—nothing in the position of the lungs or heart attracted my attention—if either of them had been much displaced I do not think I could have failed to observe it—if death had occurred from pressure on the arteries, I should not have expected to find the symptoms of local irritation in the stomach—I know from my reading something of the recorded effects of vegetable alkaloids.

EDWARD STEPHEN LITTLE, M.D I live at Merton Road, Wimbledon—on Saturday evening, 3rd December, I went on a visit to Mr. Bedbrook and was called to see the deceased in his bedroom—he was lying on the bed—Dr. Berry was there—the deceased was in great pain; he was retching, and complained of intense pain in the region of the stomach, and also of his skin being drawn up—I remained with him till his death—morphia was injected on two occasions, but he got worse as time went on, and ultimately died at 11.20—we thought he was suffering from the effects of an irritant poison—the complaints he made and the ymptoms exhibited, led us to that conclusion—I collected the vomit from the bath and from the floor of the water-closet and bath-room, with a spoon—on Tuesday, 6th December, a post-mortem examination was made by Dr. Bond, Mr. Berry, and myself—Mr. Berry took notes, and they accurately contain what I noticed—I noticed on the surface of the stomach certain patches, which indicated that there had been intense irritation of the lining membrane of the stomach—they were, I should think, of recent date—the cause of death in my opinion was the adminis-tration of some poison.

Cross-examined. I have had no experience in cases of death caused by vegetable poison—I said before the Magistrates that I had studied poisons, but I do not base my opinion on what I learned in my student days, but on the appearances exhibited during life as well—both Dr. Berry and I came to the conclusion before his death that the boy was suffering from some irritant poison: probably half an hour or more before his death—we did not apply the stomach pump—I have some knowledge of aconite and its preparations, but none of aconitine—I know it is used as a drug, both internally and externally—dispensing chemists will weigh less than a grain; sometimes half a grain is sold, or less—I helped to make the post-mortem examination—I did not examine the condition of the arteries in the neighbourhood of the curvature—I am aware that there have been cases of death by pressure on large arteries in the region of a curvature—it was a lateral curvature below the lungs in the lumbar region, and had displaced neither the stomach, lungs, nor heart—the heart was flaccid and very nearly empty—I am aware that displacement of those organs does take place from curvature of the spine, when it is in the dorsal region—the patches on

the stomach were of recent date and indicated acute inflammation—I agree with the statement that that inflammation could not have existed weeks though it might have existed days.

Re-examined. I only judge from post-mortem appearances—such acute inflammation could not exist without the patient suffering—I have no aconitine in my dispensary; it is not a drug I have ever used—the post-mortem examination was made three days after the death.

JOHN FULLER (Police Inspector). On Sunday morning, December 4th about 11.30, Mr. Bedbrook came to the police-station and gave informa-tion with respect to the death—I made some inquiries of Mr. Berry, and in the evening, at 9 o'clock, I went to the house, to the dining-room on the ground floor—Mr. Bedbrook was with me—I saw this box of capsules on the table—there were capsules and five pills in it—four pills were loose and one in a capsule—I took charge of it and took it to the station with the other things and locked them up in a desk, and on 6th December handed them to Inspector Butcher—on the same occasion Mr. Bedbrook gave me some sweets, crystallised fruit in a paper, and some cake, and also a sample of sugar, which I saw taken from the basin by Mrs. Bowles—I also received some white powders and two letters; one was from the prisoner to the deceased—I found the quinine powders in a cardboard-box in the deceased's box in the dining-room—on it was a label addressed to 449, Strand, "J.W. Littlefield, chemist, Ventnor," and written in ink were the words" Quinine powers"—there were twenty altogether; six large and fourteen small, numbered 7 to 20—all those things I took to the station and locked up, and after-wards gave to Inspector Butcher—on Tuesday, the 6th, I obtained the remaining half of the Dundee cake, and handed it to Inspector Butcher—on the 8th I received from Mr. Bedbrook a tin box containing two pills wrapped up in tinfoil or silvered-paper—I enclosed it in an envelope and left it at the station with Sergeant Trott with this report, to be forwarded to Superintendent Digby—I went to the house again on the 12th, and received the sherry in a decanter; it was placed in a bottle by Mrs. Bowles—she emptied out the glass sugar basin, and I took them both and gave them to Inspector Butcher the same day.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Bowles and several students were present when I found the quinine powders in the clothes box in the dining-room—the larger powders almost fit the box, the others are very much smaller and were tied round with twine.

HENRY TROTT (Police Sergeant V 6). On 9th December I received a coloured envelope from Inspector Fuller—I did not open it—I gave it to Rosier, who took it to Wandsworth.

WILLIAM ROSIER (Policeman). On 9th December I received from Trott a coloured envelope marked "Important," addressed to Super-intendent Digby, and gave it to Pimley.

WILLIAM PIMLEY (Police Sergeant). On 9th December I received from Rosier an envelope addressed to Superintendent Digby, marked "Im-portant"—I gave it to Davis.

HENEY DAVIS (Policeman V 42). I received from Pimley an envelope addressed "Superintendent Digby, Important," and gave it to him.

CHARLES ISAAC DIGBY (Police Superintendent V). On 9th December I received from Davis a letter containing a small tin box and Inspector Fuller's report—I opened the box; it contained two pills—I made a memorandum on the margin of the report, enclosed it in another

envelope, addressed it to Chief Superintendent Williamson, at Scotland Yard, and gave it to Henry Didhams.

Friday, March 10, 1882.

HARRY DIDHAMS (Detective Officer B). On the morning of 9th December I received a letter about 9.30 from Superintendent Digby, and took it to Scotland Yard between 11 and 12 and delivered it personally to Chief Superintendent Williamson—Mr. Williamson opened it in my presence; it contained this report and the tin box produced—the box contained two pills, which appeared to be wrapped in white paper—I left them with Mr. Williamson.

FREDERICK WILLIAMSON . I am Chief Superintendent of Police at Scotland Yard—I received this report and tin box—the pills were wrapped in tin-foil—I scratched my initials and the date on the lid of the box, and next day delivered it to Butcher, the officer who had charge of the case.

JAMES WALLIS BUTCHER . I am a Police Inspector, of Scotland Yard—on 6th December I received from Inspector Fuller a cardboard box containing a number of capsules and five white pills, one of them in a capsule, the others loose in the box; another smaller cardboard box with quinine powders and the name of Littlefield upon it—that contained twenty packets of powders, six large and fourteen smaller packets numbered 7 to 20 inclusive.; also half of a Dundee cake, some sweets, and a small portion of white powdered sugar—I handed these things next morning, the 7th, to Dr. Dupré at the Westminster Hospital—on the night of December 10th I received from Superintendent Williamson the tin box containing two pills, and took it to Dr. Stevenson at Guy's Hos-pital on the morning of the 12th of December—on the same day I received from Inspector Fuller a bottle containing some sherry, and some more white powdered sugar; I took these to Dr. Stevenson on the 14th—on the 16th of December I received a tin box with prepared wafers from Mr. Bedbrook, and delivered it to Dr. Dupre—after the post-mortem examination on the 6th of December Mr. Bond gave me a bag to take care of; I returned it the next day undisturbed; it was not locked.

WILLIAM HENRY BEDBROOK (Re-examined). The box of capsules I handed to Inspector Fuller contained the contents of both boxes which the prisoner had produced on the 3rd of December—I burnt the other box.

By MR. WILLIAMS. I could not say when my attention was first called to the capsules after the departure of the prisoner on the 3rd of December—they were lying on the table; I did examine them again that night, but I could not say at what time—I might have examined them twice—several times after the prisoner left I saw the capsules on the table; they were lying in the two boxes—I did not take any particular notice of them until after the boy's death.

By the JURY. I have said that the deceased was better than he had been previously; I told the prisoner as he was leaving that the curvature of the spine was getting worse—I noticed that the boy was sitting a little more on one side—he did not complain of pain—in speaking about the receipt of the letter from the prisoner in America I said the boy was Buffering from paralysis—I know nothing of paralysis; I only applied it to what I heard from the boy himself. By the COURT. When I spoke of paralysis I meant curvature of the

spine, the curvature of the spine having produced an inability to use the lower limbs—it was that inability to use the lower limbs caused by the curvature of the spine which I called paralysis.

THOMAS BOND , M.B. and F.R.C.S. I am Lecturer on Forensic Medicine at Westminster Hospital—I do not lecture on toxicology; my friend Dr. Dupré takes that part—on 6th December I received from Dr. Berry a bottle containing vomit; I put it in my pocket and took it home and locked it up—the bag I handed to Butcher contained things I had taken from the body for analysis—with the bottle of vomit I brought a little pill-box sealed up; I put it in my cupboard; the next morning I handed the vomit and the pill-box to Dr. Dupre—I afterwards received them back from Dr. Dupré, and handed them to Dr. Stevenson—Dr. Berry gave me the pill-box produced at the time he gave me the vomit—some portions of the body taken at the post-mortem, the stomach in one bottle, the contents of the stomach in another, one of the kidneys, part of the spleen, and part of the liver in another, part of the small intestine, and part of the large intestine in another, and the urine in another bottle, were in the bag I handed to Butcher—that was all I took—I handed them to Dr. Dupré on the 7th, at the same time that I handed him the vomit and the pill-box—I received everything back from Dr. Dupré on the 8th of December and handed them back to Dr. Stevenson the same day—I received also the same day from Dr. Dupré a box containing capsulée, sugar, two packets of sweets, part of a cake, and a bottle, the neck of which had been broken by Dr. Dupré in opening it—two pieces of paper were handed to me, one by Dr. Berry and one by Inspector Butcher—I handed everything I received from Dr. Dupré to Dr. Stevenson except the two sheets of paper.

AUGUSTE DUPRE . I am Lecturer on Chemistry at Westminster Hos-pital—I received certain things from Mr. Bond and Inspector Butcher, and handed back everything the day after to Mr. Bond.

OTHER WINDSOR BERRY (Re-examined). I put these two pills into the box—one was brought up to me by Mr. Bedbrook while I was in attendance on the deceased, and the other one was taken out of one of the capsule boxes after the boy's death—I put the two pills each into a capsule which I got from the box, put them into the box, and sealed them up.

WILLIAM HENRY BEDBROOK (Re-examined). I do not recollect taking up one of the pills to Dr. Berry while he was in attendance on the boy; the subsequent events have wiped it entirely out of my memory—if I got it anywhere it must have been from the capsule box—I saw some white pills in the box—I cannot say when I first noticed them.

By the COURT. I have no recollection of having taken up a pill at all on that night—I do remember seeing pills in the capsule box—I do not remember seeing pills anywhere else that night.

By a JUROR. It is impossible for me to say whether I had any pills in the house at that time—I had no pills to my knowledge for my own use—pupils were not allowed to get medicines without my knowledge; they were kept away from the boys.

THOMAS BOND (Re-examined). I have had large experience in making post-mortem examinations—I have made about a dozen in which persons have died from poisoning—I have not been very much consulted in cases of persons suffering from poison—I have made post-mortem examinations in accidents by poison, but I have never before been engaged in a criminal prosecution—I made this post-mortem examination with Dr. Berry and

Dr. Little on December 6th. (The COURT then read over to the witness Mr. Berry's evidence of the post-mortem examination.) That correctly describes the appearances seen, but it omits to mention that the whole of the lungs were somewhat congested, the posterior part exceedingly so, and I think it omits to say that the body was not decomposed—I received from Dr. Berry an account of the symptoms observed during the illness of the deceased—taking into consideration the time of the illness and the post-mortem appearances, there was nothing, in my judgment, to account for death from natural causes—in my judgment the death is to be attributed to poison, I thought to a vegetable alkaloid—the vegetable alkaloids act in various ways; there are different classes of them—aconitine is one of the vegetable alkaloid poisons; it is a very powerful poison; a fatal dose of aconitine could, I have no doubt, be contained in one of these capsules—the appearances I saw on the post-mortem examination were such as I should expect to find, supposing death had been caused by a dose of aconitine—the patches in the stomach indicate intense irritation—in my judgment these patches were recent—the irritation which caused the patches must have caused pain to the patient—intense irritation would be likely to give great pain, and the irritation indicated by the patches would produce vomiting—the principal curvature of the spine was in the lower part of the body—there was a slight curvature forward in the upper part of the spine—there was no curvature to affect the position of the heart and lungs relatively to each other—the cavities of the chest appeared to me deeper from before backwards than usual, from the bending of the spine forward—the heart was in its right position except that it was higher up in the body than is normal—in the lower region there was a good deal of lateral curvature—I examined the spinal cord down as far as the end of the dorsal vertebrae—I found the membranes very much congested, but otherwise it was to all appearance quite healthy—I did not examine it with the microscope—I did not open the spinal canal in the lower lumbar region—the parts were very twisted, and I had difficulty in getting it open—no disease there could have caused sudden death—the curvature appeared to be of long standing—the bones were very hard, and there was no active disease there—I think it is impossible that death was caused by the pressure on the arteries produced by the curvature.

Cross-examined. I have never seen a case of death from aconitine unless. the present be one—after taking of a dose of aconitine I should expect the symptoms to appear in about half an hour, not in a few minutes, out it would depend upon the condition of the stomach, whether empty or full—the symptoms would occur much sooner on an empty stomach—I do not know whether it would depend on the amount of the dose—I believe it would be possible to cause death by aconitine in so small a dose that it could not be found in the stomach, but so large a dose might be given that it would be quite easy to find it; whether it would be found depends on the amount—my opinion is that if death was caused by an ordinary amount, traces would be found, but not all the amount—enough aconitiue to cause death might be given, and leave no trace in the stomach of aconitine—I do not agree that the poison found on analysis would be over and above that which was used in causing death, unless it means that a small quantity had been absorbed, which caused death, leaving a larger portion in the stomach which did not cause death; I mean that the poison which may have caused death has been removed from the

stomach to the other organs, and it is quite possible that a larger amount may be left behind in the stomach than the portion which has been removed and caused death—I do not know whether it would or would not be decomposed in the act of causing death; I think not; I have not the least idea—"Guy and Terrier's Forensic Medicine" is one of the first authorities—as to whether the symptoms in poisoning by aconitine might commence in one or two minutes or in one or two hours, I really do not know anything about poisoning by aconitine, so I cannot say—the ven tricles and auricles of the heart were both empty—I cannot produce any case on record of poisoning by aconitine.

Re-examined. I have only had personal experience of poisoning by one vegetable alkaloid, strychnine—supposing the poison had been taken in a capsule such as this, a longer time would elapse before the symptoms manifested themselves, because the gelatine would have to be dissolved, if it is gelatine—the poison would be first received into the stomach, and then it would be absorbed and passed into the blood, and from the blood into the other organs—I do not know whether what remained in the stomach after death had any part in causing death—it may have caused some local irritation—it may have had some part in it, the vomiting and so on; it would cause irritation like mustard; it might have had some, but I should think a very small part in causing death—the greatest part in causing death was due to that which had passed into the system—I have seen no death from aconitine, and the recorded cases are very rare.

By the COURT. 1 do not know enough of the physical action of poisons to be able to say whether, if a dose of poison was received into the stomach three or four times as much as would cause death, the whole would assist in causing death, leaving a diluted poison in the stomach—I am a surgeon—the capsule would take from three to six minutes to melt in the tem-perature of the stomach—before the Magistrate I said that the patches might have existed days; I meant two or three days—they might only have existed hours; there was nothing to indicate how long—they could not have existed without the person suffering—the time of operation of a poison in powder or liquid would depend upon the dilution—poison in powder might be in a solution so strong as to be what I may term neat poison—poison taken in food does not operate as soon as on an empty stomach—on opening the stomach I only found three or four ounces of a dark pasty fluid, which I preserved—after violent vomiting I should not expect to find much left in the stomach—different poisons take different times to develop their effects—any other poison would produce the same local condition of the stomach as aconitine—there are other poisons which would produce the same congestion of the stomach and the little white yellow marks which we found—any vegetable irritant would do so; a strong solution of oil of mustard, I think, would do the same.

By the JURY. A substance received into the stomach would be trans-mitted into the blood almost immediately—some substances would be found in the blood within a minute or two, and would therefore reach the heart—prussic acid would do so in a very few seconds—I should not expect to find any trace of prussic acid in the heart; the heart is not the place; I should expect to find it in the liver and urine in certain poisons.

By the COURT. YOU would be more likely to find traces of vegetable alkaloids in the liver, kidneys, and urine than in the heart—I should not, expect to find traces of them in the substance of the heart.

WILLIAM RALPH DODD . I am an assistant at Messrs. Allen a

Hanbury's, wholesale and retail chemists, of Plough Court) Lombard Street—I remember the prisoner coming there on or about the 24th November—he asked for a piece of paper—I handed him a piece, and he wrote something on it—I do not know what has become of it; I have searched, but cannot find it—I left it on the counter, and have not seen it since—it was such a paper as would be destroyed when the trans-action was complete—he wrote on it "Aconitia, two grains. G.H. Lamson, M.D., Bournemouth, Hants," and the date in the left-hand corner—he handed it to me; I read it; I referred to this "Medical Directory "(produced), and I found his name and address in it—I then proceeded to weigh the aconitia, two grains—when weighing poisons it is the practice to call another assistant to test the weighing and see that the proper weight is given, to check the weighing—I accordingly called for that purpose an assistant named Betts—after weighing the aconitia I suggested to Dr. Lamson that I should put it into a bottle—he said he did not roquire it in a bottle, and I therefore wrapped it in a piece of white paper—I labelled it "Aconitia, Poison"—the name and address of the firm were printed on the label—I wrapped it in another piece of paper, and then handed it him, and he paid me 2s. 6d.; that would be 1s. 3d. per grain, the usual price to a medical man—he left, taking it with him—on the evening of 5th December I read something in an evening newspaper (the Echo), and in consequence I had some conversation with Betts—I then referred again to the "Medical Directory," and made a communication to Mr. Hanbury, my employer—I was at first under the impression that what the prisoner had bought was atropia, the price of which would be about three-halfpence a grain—I then looked at the bottle and called to mind what price had been paid for the poison bought—we keep Morson's aconitia; that is, Morson, of Southampton Bow.

Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. I have a fairly accurate memory—I cannot remember the exact date or day of the week this was bought—when I read the newspaper I was first under the impression that what I sold to the prisoner was atropia, so much so that I said to Betts "Do you remember selling atropia? referring to this transaction; he said "Yes"—at that time we were both agreed that it was atropia—we could not remember whether it was sulphate of atropia or atropia, but were both under the impression that it was atropia of some sort—we keep a register of poisons, but I made no entry of this transaction in it.

Re-examined. I came to the conclusion that I had made a mistake about three hours after I said that it was atropia—we do not enter in the register of poisons sales to medical men—aconitia and its preparations is one of the poisons under the Poisons Act—in the sale to one of the public of any poison, the purchaser must be introduced by some person we know—then we have to enter in our register the date, the name of the purchaser, the name and quantity of the poison sold, the purpose for which it is required, and then to take the signatures of the purchaser and of the person introducing—that is under the Statute—if we aresatisfied that the purchaser is a medical man, then we need not make those entries—that was why we referred to the Directory to see whether he was a medical man.

By the COURT. If you went in and having got hold of the Medical Directory said "I am Dr. Brown, of Birmingham," I should ask you to write an order, and if I were satisfied that you were a medical man, I

should in all probability let you have it—the only way to ascertain that any one of respecteble appearance and well-dressed is not an impostor and is not telling you what is untrue, would be the style of writing, which is a characteristic of medical men—we should notice it directly—this cash-book (produced) is in my writing—here is half-a-crown entered on 24th November, 1881, and to the best of my belief that is the half-crown referred to for payment of the two grains of aconitia—this "C" means "chemist. "

By MR. WILLIAMS. I cannot swear to the day of the week or month the poison was sold—the letter "C" to the entry means "chemist,". or 11""wholesale price," because we sell to chemists at wholesale price—I find on that day there were five different transactions, all initialled "C"—I have no doubt as to the prisoner's identity.

By the COURT. "We never sell at wholesale price without putting "C" to the entry—it is used instead of "W.P.," wholesale price—I have not the slightest doubt now that it was aconitia which was sold to the prisoner, and not atropia—the two grains would not quite cover a shilling if piled up.

CHARLES ERNEST OSCAR BETTS . I am in the dispensing department of Messrs. Allen and Hanbury—about 24th November I believe the prisoner came up to my counter and asked for two grains of aconitia—I asked if he was a medical man, and he said" Yes"—I then sent him to the counter at which the witness Dodd was in attendance—I saw Dodd go behind the screen where the poisons were kept—I followed and found Dodd looking into the Medical Directory; I looked into it also—I saw the order written by the prisoner—it was "Aconitia two grains, G. H. Lamson, M.D., Bournemouth, Hants, "also the date in figures—I do not remember the day of the month this was; it was between 3 and 4 in the afternoon—I saw Dodd take the bottle down; it was labelled" Aconitia"—I saw the powder in the scale——I tested the weight; it was two grains—it is usual for two assistants to test the weight—on the morning of 6th December I had a conversation with Dodd; he communi-cated to me something he had seen in the paper—in the first instance I thought it was atropia we had sold—I talked the matter over with Dodd that morning, and I am prepared to state that it was aconitia we sold to the prisoner on that occasion—the wholesale price of atropia is 1 1/2 d. a grain, and aconitia 1s. 3d.

Cross-examined. The price of sulphate of atropia would be about 1 1/2 d. per grain—it would be sold by the grain and priced by the ounce—it would be about 40s. an ounce, 8s. a drachm—there are 480 grains to the ounce—I have said that I could not swear to the date of the sale—the last witness had asked me if I remembered selling atropia, and I had replied that I did—I was then of opinion that the sale was of atropia—the only doubt was whether it was atropia or sulphate, of atropia.

Re-examined. It was on further consideration that I remembered it was aconitia—I remembered that aconitia was lumpy.

By the COURT. Atropia is white, aconitia yellowish white; aconitia is lumpy, and atropia a flocculent powder—an equal bulk being taken of each, atropia would be the heavier.

JOHN EDWARD STILING . I am an assistant in the shop of Messrs. Bell and Co., chemists, 225, Oxford Street—I know the prisoner by sight—he came to the shop on 11th November—I made up a prescription for him on that day—he wrote it in the shop—this is the prescription as it reads

at length: "Hypodermic injection of morphia, 10 grains to the drachm, of that strength, 1/2 oz.; sulphate of atropia, one grain; mix and make a solution"—it was initialled "G.H.L.," and under the initials was written" For own use"—the date is in the left corner, "11 11 81"—he gave the name of George Henry Lamson—he said he was staying at Nelson's Hotel, in Great Portland Street, not far from the shop—I made up the prescription while he waited, and I gave it to him at the time—I referred to the Medical Directory, as is our custom in such cases—he paid for it at the time, 2s. 9d.—I saw him again on the 16th November—he then gave me this prescription, writing it out in the shop: "Hypodermic solution of morphia, 10 grains to the drachm, of that, 1/2 oz.; sulphate of atropia, one grain; mix and make a solution"—underneath was written, "Digitaline, pure, five grains," signed, "G. H. Lamson, M. D., &c.; for own use"—in the left-hand corner," 16 11 81"—he wrote the upper part first—in the course of conversation I asked who was in charge of his practice, and he told me his partner—he said his practice was at Bournemouth—with regard to the digitaline, he led me to infer that he was accustomed to prescribe it himself for internal use—it is the active principle of foxglove, and, taken in large quantities, a poison—I looked at the digitaline in stock, and found it more coloured than I expected—I told him so, and said I would provide him some fresh from the manu-facturer in a few days—he laid stress upon its being pure—he said he would call again in a few days—he then struck out the lower part of the prescription relating to digitaline—the first part of the prescription, the mixture of morphia and sulphate of atropia, I made up, and he took it with him—he paid 2s. 9d.—a few days afterwards, after 20th November, he called again; I cannot say how near that date—he then asked for one grain of aconitine—I do not recollect the exact words—I do not remember the details of the conversation—he said it was for internal use—I declined to give it him—I recommended him to apply where he was better known—nothing more was said—he left the shop—I believe that on that occa-sion he wrote the order while in the shop—when I refused to serve him, I believe he tore up that order himself—except from seeing him on the 11th and 16th, I had known nothing of him before.

Cross-examined. He told me where he was staying; that was on the first occasion—I cannot swear that there was a written order for the aconitine, but my belief is that while I was consulting with my fellow-assistant the order was written, and that when I returned Dr. Lamson tore it up—I was examined before the Magistrate and before the Coroner—I was never asked about a written order before to-day—I have not said a word about it before to-day—the prisoner had not made any other purchases to my knowledge than those I have mentioned.

By the COURT. The retail price of atropia is 6d. a grain; the wholesale price is about 4d. a grain.

DAVID WAVELL LTTTLEFIELD . I am a chemist at Ventnor, Isle of Wight—I know the prisoner—I remember his coming to my shop in the autumn of 1880; it was 13th October—I sold him one quarter of a pound of arrowroot, a box of wafer papers, and 12 quinine powders, containing a grain and a half each—the white paper box produced in is from my establish-ment—the handwriting I believe to be that of an assistant named Bright—there are now two larger powders in the box—the four papers handed to me by Dr. Dupre are, I should say, of the same size as those we sent out in

the first instance—I should say the larger ones are mine; the smaller ones produced are, I should say, not mine—the powders contained a grain and a half of bi-sulphate of quinine—it was pure; no mixture with it—I did not take it out of the bottle; Mr. Bright did—I have never kept aconitine or aconitia—I have never dealt in aconitine.

Cross-examined. I believe the larger powders came from my establish-ment—I believe that I can identify five of the six larger ones shown to me, but not the sixth—the smaller ones that are numbered I know nothing about.

GEORGE BRIGHT . I was assistant to Mr. Littlefield at Ventnor in August, 1880—the words "Quinine Powders" on this paper are my writing; that leads me to the conclusion that I dispensed those powders—I have no doubt about it, though I cannot remember doing so.

DAVID "WAVELL LITTLEFIELD (Re-examined). I remember the order being given by the prisoner for those powders—I identify this box of wafers; there is a mark on it by which I can identify it; it is "Oct., '80. "CHARLES ALBERT SMITH. I am a chemist at 76, High Street, Ventnor—in August last year I knew the prisoner; I had known him about 18 months—I knew his name—he had been living at one time at Mount Vernon, in Ventnor—he was living with his father between 6th August and 23rd October, 1881—I do not know that he was there all that time; between those dates I had transactions with him—on the 8th of August I made up a prescription for him; it was an ordinary prescription from one of the Ventnor doctors—I also saw him on the 28th of August, between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening; he was alone—he came to my shop; the door was shut—he opened it and came in—he purchased three grams of sulphate of atropine, one grain of aconitine, a bottle of Eau-de-Cologne, and a stick of Pears's shaving soap—I served him, and entered the things in the waste-book—that fixes the date—I knew him as a medical man, and so I did not enter them in the poisons-book—I labelled the packet "Aconitine—poison," and there was my own name and address on it—he did not say what he wanted the aconitine for—I charged 1s. 6d. for the aconitine—I purchased it from my brother, William Smith, I retail chemist, at Ryde—I do not know whose preparation it was—I saw the prisoner again on the 20th of October following—I did not see him on the 23rd, but I supplied things for him—on the 22nd of October he owed me 1l. 10s. 4d., and I sent in a bill for that amount—that sum is still owing—the account had been running from the 6th of August.

Cross-examined. I believe that before the Magistrate I said that aconitia was commonly used in neuralgia and cancer, and that I believed it would be used for the purpose of relieving palpitations in heart disease, and as a diuretic in dropsy.

SOPHIA JOLLIFFE . I am the wife of George Jolliffe, of Clarence Villa, Shanl—in the autumn of last year my rooms were taken for Mr. and Mrs. Chapman—shortly afterwards they came, and Percy John with them—they came on 27th August—the prisoner came with them, but did not stay at my house; he had tea, and then left—I remember Percy John being'ill—I think it was a day or two after they came—he went to bed at about 9.30—that was earlier than his usual time—he slept on the ground-floor—after he was in bed I went in to see him; he complained that he felt as if he was paralysed all over—he appeared to be unwell—I did not stay with him; I went to my own room, and left my door open

ín case lie should want anything in the night—he felt very poorly—I was not called up during the night—next morning early, about 6 o'clock, he rang his bell—I went up into hie room; he was in bed—he complained that he felt very poorly, and I saw that he had been very much relaxed—he went to the closet, and remained there a long time; so long that Mrs. Chapman and I went and looked through the key-hole to see if he needed assistance—he got better after he had his breakfast.

Cross-examined. Before the Magistrate I was asked if this occurred at the end of September, and I replied I was not sure—the deceased slept in a room on the ground-floor—the closet was not on the same floor—he used to manage to get up and down stairs.

By the COURT. I do not know how he got up and down the stairs, I never saw him—he had no use of his legs—I think he used to crawl on his hands and knees; I am not sure, I never saw him—I never saw him go upstairs; I saw him upstairs—I never saw how he got up; I saw him up and down, and from that I infer that he managed to get up and down—I and his sister went to the closet-door, and looked through—I went away after finding him there, and I think his sister did also—I saw that he was raising himself up.

Re-examined. He had left his wheel chair at the bottom of the stairs—I had seen him wheel himself about in that chair on the ground floor; he always used to sit in it.

By MR. WILLIAMS. He could not wheel himself upstairs to the closet, the chair was left at the bottom of the stairs.

By the COURT. My bedroom was at the bottom of the stairs on the ground floor; his bedroom was also on the ground floor; the closet was on the first landing half way up the first flight of stairs—Mr. and Mrs. Chapman slept upstairs—it was about half-past 6 that I saw him in the closet; I went and rapped at Mrs. Chapman's door after seeing him in the closet—there was nobody to attend upon him but me; I have a girl, but she did not attend upon him—I saw him in the closet raising himself up; he was leaning against the wall as he sat there, as if he was ill—by raising himself up I mean that he raised himself up into a sitting posture—I left him sitting when I came away, and Mrs. Chapman went back to her bedroom—I did not see him come downstairs, so I can't say how he got down.

By the JURY. It was the deceased who rang the bell at 6 in the morning; I answered it; he rang for me to attend to his room; the bell was very near to his bed; he could reach it on his bed—when I got up I found he had been much relaxed, and I attended to his room and opened the window—I heard from my girl that he crawled about by himself, but I never saw him; I kept out of his way, for I did not think he liked to be seen, being so afflicted, but I know he used to get about—I did not lift him out of his bed; he got off the bed himself—I did not see him get off—he was in bed when I went in—I did not see him again till after he came downstairs and was dressed; he used to dress himself I think; I don't know.

GEORGE HUMBY . I am station master at the Shanklin Railway Station—I produce the luggage and cloak office book of 1881—at that time it was kept by John Durrant—if a passenger left luggage at the station to be taken care of it would be Currant's duty to make an entry in the book of the date and particulars.

JOHN DURRANT . I now live at Sandown, Isle of Wight—in August last year I was in the service of the Isle of Wight Railway Company at Shanklin Station—this entry in this book is my writing; I made it at the time of the transaction to which it refers—I should give a ticket to the person leaving luggage—some luggage was left on the occasion to which this entry refers on 29th August—the person gave a name; we always ask the person their name—I entered the name in the book—I don't think I have ever seen the person since; I don't re-member—it was a portmanteau, a bundle, and a package that was left.

MR. POLAND proposed to use the entry for the purpose of the witness refreshing his memory by it. MR. WILLIAMS objected, there being nothing to connect the prisoner with the transaction. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS, without saying that it was strictly inadmissible, considered that in the absence of any proof of the identity of the prisoner as the person leaving the luggage, it could have little or no effect. The evidence was not pressed,

Saturday, March 11th.

THOMAS STEVENSON . I am a doctor of medicine, Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, London, Fellow of the Council and Institute of Chemistry, lecturer on medical jurisprudence and chemistry at Guy's Hospital, and examiner in forensic medicine at the London University—I have had large experience in analytical chemistry, and especially in toxicology—during the last ten years Ï have been employed by direction of the Home Office in making analyses in cases of supposed poisoning—on December 8th last I was instructed by the Home Secretary to make an analysis in the present case—I applied to him to associate some one with me in the analysis, and he appointed Dr. Dupré—Dr. Bond handed to me a number of bottles and various other things; first a bottle duly secured, sealed, and labelled "Liver, spleen, and kidneys, handed to Dr. Dupré by Mr. Bond, December 7, A "; second, a bottle labelled "B, duodenum, parts of small intestines, cocum, colon "; 3rd, C, a bottle labelled "Contents of stomach; "the 4th, D, was a bottle secured, sealed, and labelled "Contents of stomach," and marked with an arrow; the. 5th, E, was a bottle labelled "Urine"; the 6th, F, a bottle labelled "The Vomit"; with this was a broken bottle unlabelled and a gutta-percha wrapper with two seals with griffins'-heads crests; No. 7 was a pill-box, sealed and secured with tape marked "T. B. "; No. 8 was a newspaper parcel sealed; the 9th a brown paper parcel sealed; the 10th was a paper parcel sealed—that is the whole of what I received from Mr. Bond—No. 10 was opened in the presence of Mr. Bond; it contained a box with 107 capsules in it—another parcel contained some sugar, some sweetmeat sugar, and a box labelled "Quinine powders" in writing, and "J. W. Littlefield, chemist, Ventnor," in print; there were also four pills loose, one large comfit from a Dundee cake, and one of the capsules contained what appeared to be a pill, but which was really a similar comfit—No. 8 contained two packets of sweetmeats, and No. 9 contained half a Dundee cake—parcel 11 I received from Inspector Butcher on Dec. 12; that was a tin box marked "I. W. B. 9,12,81," in which were two little tinfoil packages each containing a pill—No. 12 was received from Butcher on December 14th—it was labelled, "Remainder of sugar from Mr. Bedbrook's"—No. 13 was a bottle, labelled, "Sherry from Mr. Bedbrook's, from decanter used by Lamson; handed to Dr. Stephenson

14, 12, 81"—Butcher handed it to me on that day—I afterwards received the box and wafers marked 14, from Dr. Dupre—I have, with his assistance, submitted to microscopic examination and analysis the whole of the articles submitted to me—every step taken was arranged between myself and Dr. Dupre before being adopted—the manual operations were sometimes carried on by me, and sometimes by Dr. Dupre, and where he performed the analysis I examined it so as to be able to speak to the result—I examined No. 1, the liver and so on; No. 2, the intestines; No. 3, the stomach contents; No. 4, the stomach; No. 5, the urine; No. 6, the vomit; No. 9, the cake, but No. 10 only in part, i. e. powder No. 16—I also examined the capsules, the loose sugar, and the lump sugar, some of the pills, and the wafers partly—in the other cases the manual work was done by Dr. Dupre, but I assisted him from time to time—the bottle marked "A "contained a portion of the liver, spleen, and kidneys—to that I applied a modification of Stass's process, and obtained from it an alkaloidal extract, which contained a trace of morphia, and which, when placed on the tongue, gave a sensation like that produced by aconitia—I reserved it for further experiments—No. 2 contained a small portion of the larger bowels—I applied the same process to them, and obtained an extract which I have not tested—No. 3, the contents of the stomach, contained about three and half ounces of fluid—that was treated in a somewhat similar way—the fluid contained a raisin and a piece of the pulp of some fruit, which agreed in microscopic appearance with that of an apple—from that fluid I obtained from Stass's process an extract which, when tasted, produced a very faint sensation like that of aconitia—though placed upon the tongue there was a sensation of a burning of the lip, although the extract had not touched the lip—the sensation was a burning tingling, a kind of numbness difficult to define, salivation or a desire to expectorate, and a sensation of swelling at the back of the throat, followed by a peculiar seared sensation at the back of the tongue, as if a hot iron had been passed over it, or some strong caustic applied—I reserved that alkaloidal extract for some physiological experiments—the bottle labelled "4 D" contained a human stomach and seven ounces of spirituous liquid which had been added to preserve it—I observed that the stomach was reddened as if from congestion in the region of the greater curvature and posteriorly—at one part there was a little pit as if a blister or inflammatory effusion of lymph had broken—I made an extract from the stomach and the liquid in the bottle by Stass's process, and obtained an alkaloidal extract, which I tasted and reserved—it had no particular taste that I could recognise—No. 5, bottle E, contained six ounces of urine with spirit—I opened it in Dr. Dupre's presence, and he pointed out a mark by which I saw that two ounces of spirit had been added, for the purpose of preservation, to the four ounces of urine—I made an extract from threefourths of that liquid, and obtained an alkaloidal extract which contained a trace of morphia, and then, by a further process, I obtained more morphia—the first alkaloid extract to which I have referred contained more alkaloid than would be accounted for by the morphia present, which was a mere trace—some of this extract I placed upon my tongue, and it produced the effect of aconitia, which I have already described, in a marked degree, and a further effect of aconitia, a peculiar burning sensation, extending down towards the stomach—it is very difficult to describe, and peculiar to aconitia—I have

never found it with any other alkaloid—I have 50 to 80 vegetable preparations in my possession, and have tasted most of them—in this particular case the sensation lasted upon the tongue for four hours—with threefourths of the liquid that I tested I made an experiment with the alkaloidal extract from a quantity corresponding to about 1 ounce of the urine, or onethird of the whole—I dissolved the extract and injected it beneath the skin of a mouse—the animal was obviously affected in two minutes, and from that time onwards it exhibited signs of poisoning, and died in 30 minutes from the time of administration—I made some experiments by injecting into mice a solution of Morson's aconitine, which I procured expressly from Allen and Hanbury—I dissolved it in the same solvent, and operated on mice in the same manner—its effect upon the mice was undistinguishable from the effect produced by the extract from the urine; they died from the same character of symptoms—the solvent itself, which was a dilute solution of tartaric acid, was used on a mouse, and found to be quite inoperative—the extract which I made from the liver, spleen, kidneys, stomach, and contents I retained—they all contained an alkaloid, and two of them gave a slight taste of aconitine—I then mixed the extracts 1, 3, and 4 together, and injected it under the skin of a mouse in the same manner, and it produced effects upon the mouse in nine minutes, and from that time onwards it exhibited symptoms of poisoning, and died in 22 minutes—those symptoms were precisely similar to the symptoms exhibited when I injected Morson's aconitine—No. 6, the vomit, contained 10 fluid ounces, or nearly half a pint of a thick semifluid stuff—with that also there was spirits of wine—Dr. Dupre pointed out a mark on a bottle indicating 5 ounces of vomit, and about 5 ounces of spirit had been added—the vomit must have been solid—I examined the solid portion, and found that it consisted of pieces of fat, a very small quantity of muscular fibre of some animal, pieces of onion, a little starch, probably that of wheat, sliced candied peel, such as is put on the top of cakes, pieces of apple pulp, raisins, and some pineapple essence—there was just the odour of pineapple drops—I subsequently examined it again minutely and microscopically; to see whether I could find anything corresponding to the root of aconite or the root of horseradish; I found neither—I made an extract from the vomit, and obtained an alkaloidal extract, which had an intense taste, but no trace of morphia or quinine—I applied some of the extract to my tongue, and found a very powerful result, such as I have previously described as the result of aconitia—the effects lasted in a severe form six hours and a half, when the severity gradually passed off, but the effect lasted very markedly for six hours and a half—I used a portion of this alkaloidal extract corresponding to 124th part of the vomit, and injected it into the back of a mouse—it was severely affected in 21/2 minutes, and the symptoms continued to the time of its death, 151/2 minutes after the injection—those symptoms were parallel with those of aconitia—in my judgment the vomit submitted to me contained a considerable quantity of aconitia—approximately I think I can give an estimate of the quantity; I can put a limit each way—it was not less than oneseventh, and probably not more than. onefourth of a grain—there has been only one fatal case that I know of in which aconitine has caused the death of a human being, and the quantity that proved fatal, the quantity that actually caused death, was known not to be less than onetwentyfirst part of a grain, not more than onethirteenth of a grain—

the pillbox, No. 7, contained two gelatine capsules, and in each was a gelatinecoated pill—I examined them, or rather saw what Dr. Dupre did; he operated, and I saw the results—they contained no poison——they were simple fivegrain quinine pills—the sweetmeats No. 8 contained no trace of poison of any character at all—No. 9, the cake, contained no trace of poison—No. 10, the capsules, were simple gelatine, free from poison—the comfit, the sugar, and some loose pills in a box, simple quinine gelatinecoated pills, were free from poison—of the quinine powders there were six in larger papers than others—they contained a grain and a half each on an average, of disulphate of quinine, some containing one and onethird of a grain, some one and twothirds of a grain—there were fourteen smaller papers containing powers, tied together in a bundle and numbered in ink from 7 to 20—they varied considerably in weight, the lightest weighing sixtenths of a grain; the heaviest one and oneeighth of a grain—the average weight of the 14 powders was very nearly one grain, 131/2 grains in the whole—Nos. 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 18, 20, were disulphate of quinine, or ordinary quinine powders varying from six tenths of a grain to 11/2 grains—my attention was called to No. 16 by Dr. Dupre—it was a little different in colour, as were also two others, 17 and 19—it was an obvious mixture; there were two substances—I mean it was obvious to a skilled person—they were of a pale fawn tint, quinine being a peculiar pure white—it was more a difference in colour than shade—No. 16 weighed just under one and eight tenths of a grain—it was the largest—No. 17 weighed 88 grain, nearly nine tenths—No. 19 weighed 126 or one and a quarter grains—the powder in No. 16 looked as if damaged quinine had been put in, or quineta mixed with it—I tasted it—at first there was the bitterness of quinine, but that passed off, and in three minutes there was a very startling, sensation—the taste I thought was aconitia, but I had not tasted aconitia for years—the sensation lasted severely for three hours, then gradually went away after dinner—I saw the result of Dr. Dupre's examination—there was 83 grain of aconitia and 96 grain of quinine—I took about one fiftieth of a grain of No. 16 for experiment upon a mouse in the same manner—it was very ill in three and a half minutes, and dead in six and a half minutes; the symptoms being the same as in the other cases—I did not taste either No. 17 or No. 19—I cannot tell how much aconitia there was in them—I am convinced that there was aconitia in both from Dr. Dupre's experiments, but from the colour and appearance I should say the proportion of aconitia to the quinine was considerably less than in No. 16—with regard to the pills in the tin box, it is not usual to wrap pills in tinfoil in this country, nor to put them in a box of this kind—some pills become soft by exposure, but not quinine pills—those two pills were examined by Dr. Dupre and myself—I myself particularly examined one—I examined both partially—one of these pills weighed three grains; the other, which I more particularly examined, weighed two and three quarter grains nearly—I took it out of the tinfoil—there was nothing particular in the appearance—I cut it open and tasted it; it was most intense—there was at first the bitterness of quinine, and in about three minutes that passed away—I had cut out the smallest piece I could and put it on my tongue—Dr. Dupre, myself, and my assistant each thus tasted a portion, and some was taken for the microscope, and then we had taken altogether only 122nd part of a grain; that sufficed for the three of us and for the microscope also—

I felt the bitterness of quinine, followed by intense burning on the tongue, tingling and soreness of the tongue—the sensations were the same in character, but more severe in form than those I had already experienced—I injected some of it into the back of a mouse—in two minutes it exhibited symptoms of poisoning and was very ill, and it died in four and a half minutes—I came to the conclusion that there was 45 of a grain, or nearly half a grain, of aconitine in that pill—in the sherry I found no trace of poison—there was no trace of poison in the wafers—the urine, in my opinion, contained aconitia—that would show that poison had been absorbed into the blood, had passed through the tissues of the body, and become excreted—I found traces of morphia in certain of these extracts—I have heard the account of the injection of morphia by Dr. Berry during the last hours of the boy's illness—the traces of morphia I found were such as I should have expected to find from such injection—I should have expected to find it in the urine, probably in the liver too—many times a fatal dose could be administered in one of these capsules—I have put a grain of aconitine into one of those capsules, and here is one with half a grain to show how little space it fills. (The capsules were handed to the Jury.) The taste of the pill lasted for sevenandahalf hours, although a meal had been taken during the time—if taken in a capsule such as this, and swallowed, the taste of the aconitine would not, of course, be perceived in the act of swallowing—there is no specific or characteritic chemical test for aconitine—the tests are first the general chemical tests for an alkaloid, and I did discover an alkaloid: and then the physiological test; first the effect upon the tongue and neighbouring parts, and the general effect on the system if taken in any quantity—the other physiological test is that it will kill after a definite course of symptoms—I have no doubt that in the vomit, the urine, and in the substances from the body submitted to me I did find aconitine—I have no doubt about its being aconitine—I heard the medical men describe the symptoms and the post-mortem appearances—in my judgment, they are such as would be likely to arise in poisoning by aconitine—they point to a vegetable alkaloid principle, and more nearly to aconitine than any other—judging from the appearances on the postmortem and my analysis, I form the conclusion that death arose from aconitine—aconitine is not a medicine commonly used in this country for internal purposes—I have not known it used in any case—the British Pharmacopœia orders it for external use, but makes no mention of any dose—nothing is prescribed for internal use—it was formerly tried a quarter of a century or 30 years ago, but it was given up, because it was found to be so dangerous.

Cross-examined. I have never been present at a death from aconitine, acknowledged to have been so caused—there has never been such a case, so far as I am aware, in this country; there has only been one abroad—my opinions have been founded upon what I have heard of the symptoms: the taste test, experiments upon mice, my knowledge of poisoning by aconite (the substance from which aconitia is extracted), and my reading of cases of aconitine poisoning—I know that aconitine is used in France and in Germany—I know there are French preparations—I do not know that they are sold by Jozeau in the Haymarket—from my general reading I believe it has been considerably used in France within the last two or three years—I do know a work on chemistry in French by Guibert; this is it—I find a formula in it for pills with aconitine in it, not for internal

use for dropping into the ear—there are also formulae for external use as liniment and ointment—in the British Pharmacopœia there is a formula for unguentum aconitia, eight grains of aconitia to one ounce of lard—Sidney Ringer is an acknowledged authority on therapeutics—I know his book—I agree with this; "Aconite is used externally in the form of liniment or ointment to relieve pain"—the formula in the British Pharmacopœia for unguentum aconitia has reference to aconitine—it is applied in cases of neuralgia and rheumatism; I agree with this—" A piece, the size of a bean or nut, should be applied with friction, which enhances its efficacy"—that is the proper way to apply an ointment—a piece the size of a horse bean would barely be equal to half a drachm; it would depend on the size of the bean—half a drachm of the ointment would contain half a grain of aconitia—I agree that the application in such cases of aconite ointment will out short the pain—I do not know that the application would prevent sickness; I have no experience of it—sickness is not a common symptom of neuralgia—I agree that aconite diminishes sensibility, and it has been used internally in various internal diseases; aconite is often given—I have not heard of the use of aconitine in cases of typhoid fever—I have heard of its being used in fevers generally; I cannot speak of typhoid—I have heard of the use of aconitine in cases of pleuropneumonia—I read it in an anonymous article in a journal not edited by a medical man, and the opinion of a nonmedical man is not of much value in the treatment of disease—with regard to symptoms, the pupils of the eyes are generally dilated after a death from natural causes—it is not a distinctive sign of aconitine—the surface of the tongue being rough and furred is not a distinctive sign of aconitine poisoning—it might result from a variety of causes—the congestion of the brain is not peculiar to aconitine poisoning, but has been observed in such cases; it may be due to other causes—bloodstained fluid in the bag of the heart is not characteristic of aconitine poisoning; it has been met with—in aconite poisoning it has been observed that the ventricles and auricles of the heart were empty—in the only case of aconitine poisoning referred to, I believe, in a number of the Philadelphia Journal of Medicine, by Dr. Reichert, who is an authority, there is no mention of the state of the heart, but in poisoning by preparations of aconite containing aconitine it has been observed—congested liver is a sign of aconitine poisoning; congestion of the viscera has been marked in cases of aconitine poisoning; it is to be met with when death has resulted from other causes—it is not a distinctive sign; it is an important sign—I do not know of any case where aconitine has produced corrosion of the stomach—I do not know that this stomach was corroded; I observed no signs of corrosion on it—preparations of aconite would cause irritation of the stomach—in the fatal case of aconitine poisoning to which I have referred the stomach was observed to be greatly congested—the congestion of the kidneys is a mark, but not a distinctive mark, of aconitine poisoning: and congestion of the spleen is not distinctive of it, but is consistent with it—by" consistent" I mean it has been actually observed in cases of aconite poisoning—there have been cases of death which were not and could not be ascertained even by postmortem examination—I have known persons to die and no cause to be discovered—with regard to the patches in the stomach I do not think that they might have existed for days before death without symptoms—I agree that the patches might have existed for days, but I do not believe that a person

with those patches could feel himself or be described as in perfect health—I agree that they might have existed days before death; per se, but not in conjunction with what I have heard of the boy's health—they could not have existed without causing pain to the person—Dr. Dupre and I began together our analysis on the 10th of December—I began my analysis of the vomit and of the urine on the same day—I should not expect to find an alkaloid in the contents of the stomach, owing to the injection of morphia—if morphia were injected I should expect to find it in the urine if it had been administered in sufficient quantity—the alkaloid I found in the urine, was in excess of what I should expect to find from the quantity of morphia injected—the injection would account for a mere trace of morphia, but not for the whole of the alkaloid present—there was just a reaction with the most delicate tests—in testing the alkaloidal extract I took half the contents of the stomach and mixed it with such a quantity of rectified spirit as would, with the spirit previously added by Dr. Dupre, make the proportion of spirit to the liquid taken, two volumes of spirit to one volume of liquid—the liquid which I took was acid in its reaction—the mixture was allowed to stand till the next day, or rather two days; it stood over Sunday from Saturday till Monday; it was then filtered, the insoluble part was well and repeatedly washed with rectified spirit; the clear liquid was then evaporated at a temperature below that of the human body, till it was almost solid: the portion which had not dissolved in spirit was then treated with an additional quantity of spirit, to which a little tartaric acid was added: the mixture was then warmed till it had the temperature of 140 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was then cooled and filtered—the insoluble part was well and repeatedly washed with spirit, and the clear liquid thus obtained was evaporated at a temperature below that of the human body till a fairlysolid residue was obtained—I now obtained two alcoholic extracts, each of which was treated in a precisely similar manner, but separately, by digesting them with warm absolute alcohol, or rather tepid, till the alcohol would take up and dissolve nothing more—the solutions in absolute alcohol were filtered and evaporated nearly to dryness—they were then treated with a little water—they were found to be acid in reaction, and the two solutions, that is to say, that from the plain spirit and the other from the tartaric acid spirit, were mixed—care was taken that they remained just faintly acid, and the solution was then agitated with washed ether—the ether was allowed to separate—it was drawn off and replaced by fresh ether—the operation with the ether was carried out five times—the ether was set apart and allowed to evaporate at a temperature below its boilingpoint—that was reserved as not containing any alkaloid—the residue obtained was oily and partly dissoluble with water; it was of a brownish colour; it was not weighed, but it was of a very appreciable quantity—these tests were not conducted with a view to aconitine only—I tested for metallic poisons, but not with alkaloidal extract—the aqueous liquid which separated from the ether was made alkaline by means of carbonate of soda; it was then agitated with a mixture of washed ether and washed chloroform—the etherchloroform solution was then allowed to separate; it was drawn off and again replaced by ether, which was again drawn off—the ether and chloroform mixtures were evaporated, and finally dried in vacuo over oil of vitriol in the airpump; that was simply to dry it thoroughly without decomposing—before it was placed in the vacuum I examined it to see

whether there was any volatile alkaloid, which could be recognised by its particular odour; there was none, nor any volatile oil—I then dried it over oil of vitriol—it weighed 108, or rather more than 110th of a grain—it was of slightly crystalline appearance—I tasted it by putting a little fragment on my tongue—I reduced it subsequently with a solvent, and administered it to a mouse, but I had previously tested it for an alkaloid—I went through the same operation with the vomit twice, and the urine, with only minor shades of difference, as occasion required—the effect on the tongue was characteristic of aconitine, and of nothing else that I know of—I should not expect to find something of the same sort from veratria; I have tried that on the tongue, and there is a marked difference—I tried delphinia years ago; it is more like atropia; it has more of a bitterness—I do not recollect that delphinia is like aconitia—I do not admit a resemblance—English aconitia, Morson's, has no marked bitterness, whereas most alkaloids have a bitterness—it is more like a stringency; it is quite distinct—I think there is a bitterness about delphinia—it is different from pepperine or pepper, in which the burning comes on directly, and you get it at once—there is no special chemical test for aconitia—I do not consider phosphoric acid a test—I have tried it on aconitia given me by Mr. Morson, and on other specimens, and the phosphoric acid reaction is no doubt due to impurity—it is given as a test except by those who have studied it recently—Messrs. Gough and Wright have experimented upon it as well as myself—it was looked upon as a test until recently—I made several experiments connected with the case to see whether it is a real test, and it is not—I made experiments as a test with pure aconitia, but with no result—Flückner, in this work on the subject, gives it, but German aconitia does give that reaction; it is very different from English aconitia—I see no mention in the book of English aconitia—the date of this edition is 1879—the solution injected into the mouse was measured on each occasion—the quantity injected was three or four minims—the needle at the end of the hypodermic syringe was passed into the animal's back—in the case of the urine three or four minims represente 1 one ounce, and in the case of the vomit the twentyfourth part; in the other cases the whole of the residue was taken—the mice were Albinos, piebalds, and cinnamon coloured—they do not show signs of fear; you can handle them—experiments on animals must not be overestimated—whether it is a recognised fact that alkaloids are to be found in the human body, more especially in the stomach, after death, independently of poisons, is a question still sub judice among experts—it has been asserted that such is the case where the stomach or any other viscera has been much decomposed—I cannot say that it is not a fact; it is still sub judice—I refer to what are called "cadaveric alkaloids," utterly irrespective of the administration of poisons—it is so asserted—Stas's test is for cadaveric as well as natural alkaloids—cadaveric, alkaloids have been described as producing the same effects as vegetable alkaloids—they have been described as producing the same effects, but I have seen none producing the same effects as aconitia—there is a test which distinguishes them from all natural alkaloids except morphia and veratria, and certainly from aconitine—that test was applied to those cases where no morphia was present—the test is the reduction from cyanide of potassium to the

ferrocyanide—Brouder and Boutmy are the authorities for that test; they have described the method of obtaining and distinguishing these cadoveric alkaloids—I was one of the first to point out, 17 years ago, that alkaloidal extracts found in persons after death were poisonous to frogs if injected under the skin, out I did not go far enough—I have read books on cadaveric alkaloids, I put some into an English dress myself—I do not read Italian—I do not remember if I have read Peschi—I cannot say whether cadaveric alkaloids are described as producing a pricking on the tongue—I have made many experiments, and never found the residue of the stomach prove poisonous to the lower animals—I have never known alkaloidal extracts prepared in this way to be poisonous; I cannot say that it is not so, but 1 never met with it—after the administration of aconitine the symptoms usually set in soon, but severe symptoms have been delayed from a few minutes to an hour and a half—the probabilities are that a larger dose would produce effects sooner; not necessarily, but probably a small poisonous dose might produce effects speedily—the smallest dose of nitrate of aconitia that has caused death has been one thirteenth or one sixteenth of a grain.

Re-examined. The experiments have been directed to putrefied corpses—when corpses are putrefying cadaveric poisons are produced—I procured alkaloidal extracts from the urine, viscera, and stomach, and ascertained the effects of them upon mice—I have examined a great number of liquids made from dead bodies, and operated upon mice—I have made 22 experiments this year—there were two cases of the contents of a stomach after death, and cases of heart disease, and four cases of the liver, kidneys, spleen, vomit, and six from urine—I have also in six instances taken extracts from the urine of living persons, and three from the urine of healthy dead persons—those extracts had no effect upon my tongue—I have had many years' experience, and I havecertainly never tasted anything like aconitine—I took in one case the urine of a patient who had been having morphia injected, and found morphia, but the extract had no particular taste—I detected the morphia chemically—I injected 22 different liquids into 22 mice, but some of them lived, and were used over again—I found them suffer from nothing but a trifling irritation due to the puncture—one died, but that was accounted for by the puncture having entered the spinal column—the twothousandth part of a grain of aconitine was invariably speedily fatal to a mouse; the smallest quantity was one threethousandth part of a grain, a hardly visible quantity.

By the COURT. The time when the severe symptoms appeared would depend upon whether the poison came into direct contact with the tongue or whether it was in a capsule—it must be brought into solution in some way before it would produce severe symptoms—anything which would protect it would delay the symptoms.

AUGUSTS DUPRE (Re-examined). I am a Doctor of Philosophy and a Fellow of the Royal Society and Lecturer on Chemistry and Toxicology at Westminster Hospital, and Chemical Referee to the Local Government Board—I have been largely engaged on analyses for the Home Department—on 7th December, 1881, I received from Mr. Bond and Inspector Butcher the articles marked 1 to 10 inclusive—I opened the bottle marked A, containing the liver and kidneys, and added about half a pint of rectified spirits of wine, and to No. 3, containing the contents of the

stomach, I added about two ounces of spirit, I just doubled the fluid; to No. 4, the stomach, I added five ounces of spirit; to No. 5, the urine, I added two ounces of spirit; No. 6, the bottle containing the vomit, was quite full, the neck broke in opening it, and I transferred the contents to a clean bottle, and added five ounces of spirit—on 8th December I handed all those articles to Mr. Bond—on 10th December I went with Dr. Stevenson to Guy's Hospital, where we arranged a plan on which the analysis should be made—he was to carry on the manual part on certain articles, and I on the residue—I took the six pills found among the capsules, this small pillbox, one parcel of sugar, a small pasteboard box containing powders, and two parcels of sweetmeats—I also on the Monday took away a tin box containing the pills—on the 16th I took from Guy's Hospital the other parts of the sugar—I analysed all those articles—I have heard the evidence and agree with it—I tasted every extract except that Dr. Stevenson tasted, the extract from the stomach and the liver and stomach separately, and I tasted them after they been mixed—I tasted the extract from the urine, and it gave a very strong sensation of aconitine; its effect continued for hours—I tasted the alkaloid obtained from the vomit, and it gave the same sensation painfully marked—the effect lasted for over six hours, although I took lunch and dinner during that time—I found in the vomit no trace of quinine; if aconitine had been taken in conjunction with quinine I should have expected to find quinine in the vomit—I tested powder No. 16, and have heard the proportion of aconite found in it by Dr. Stevenson; it is quite correct—No. 17 powder contained only a very minute portion of aconitine, nothing like as much as in No. 16—I cannot give the amount of aconitine in No. 19—I tasted it—there was aconitine in it, a trifle more than in No. 17, but nothing like so much as in No. 16—I agree with Dr. Stevenson about the analysation of the articles in which no poison was found.

Cross-examined. I am not a medical man—I give my attention chiefly to chemical analyses—I quite agree with Dr. Stevenson as to the test of taste and the experiments on animals—I do not knew that an application was made to the Home Office for an expert to be present at the analyses on behalf the prisoner and refused, of my own knowledge.

SAMUEL PHILIP EASTWICK . I am a chemical lecturer—I commenced lecturing at Mr. Bedbrook's school on chemistry and physics at Easter, 1881, and continued till the summer holidays in July—I went on alternate Tuesday afternoons—I brought the apparatus from my laboratory in Trinity Square, City—some glass tubes and acids which were being required every week were left at Mr. Bedbrook's, and kept in a cupboard, which was fastened by a button near the top—the tubes and utensils were put away each day by me—when I required it, a boy used to assist me, but not always—I always found them as I left them—they were sulphuric acid, nitric acid, hydrochloric acid, some ammonia, lime-Water, and a few salts—there were no poisons among them.

LAWRENCE JOHN WHALLEY . I am an analytical chemist and lecturer, of Lewisham High Road—during Michaelmas term, 1881, I attended at Blenheim House School in place of Mr. Eastwick, from the end of Sept. to 14th Dec.—I lectured on organic chemistry and physics—I used to lecture, and the boys wrote out the answers, and whatever chemical demonstrations were necessary I conducted them—I left some chemicals

in the cupboard—I used to put them away and take them out myself—the cupboard was fastened by a button—I occasionally left poisons there, acetate of lead and sulphuric and hydrochloric acids—they are poisons.

JOHN HUMPHREY HOWARD RICHARDSON , M. R. C. S. I live in York Road, Wandsworth—in the winter months of 1879 and 1880 I was assistant to Dr. Berry, and sometimes assisted at the school—I knew the deceased, and I once attended him professionally on 26th March last year—it was for an eruption on the face—I prescribed for him half a dram of Fowler's solution of arsenic, a dram of solution of potash, and a saline mixture sufficient to make six ounces, from a private prescription—that was the only medicine I prescribed—the eruption was of a trifling character, probably arising from constitutional causes.

DAVID ORMOND . I live at Enmore Park, South Norwood, and am a trustee under the will of the late Mrs. John, the mother of the deceased—she was the widow of Mr. William John, a Manchester merchant—she died in 1869—there were five children, two girls and three boys—the eldest, Miss Kate John, was married to the prisoner on 16th October, 1878—one of the sons, Sydney, died on April 12, 1873, and Hubert, one of the other sons, on June 24, 1879, under age—his share of the property was divided between the sisters, Mrs. Lamson, Mrs. Chapman, and the deceased—at the time of the deceased's death he was possessed of, in India Four per Cents, 1,991l. 5s. 11d.; and 1,078l. 18s. 7d. in Consols, producing about 109l. per annum; the value together would be something over 3,000l.—whatever he died possessed of, he being under age, would go to his two sisters in equal moieties.

Cross-examined. The children were wards in Chancery—the share which Mrs. John became entitled to by the death of her brother Hubert was paid over to her as quickly as possible through the solicitor—it was in November.

WILLIAM GREENHILL CHAPMAN . I live at Willesden, and am a clerk in the Civil Service—I married Miss Margaret John, the second sister of the deceased, in 1877—in 1878 the prisoner was married to Miss Kate John—at the end of 1879 or the beginning of 1880 he went to practise at Bournemouth—I remember his finally leaving England in April last and going to America—he was away about six weeks—in August, 1881, I went to Shanklin on a Saturday, and I think it was the 27th—my wife and the deceased went with me; the prisoner was staying with his mother at that time at Ventnor, which is 4 or 5 miles from Shanklin—the prisoner and his wife met us at Shanklin Station when we arrived—I knew he intended returning to America very shortly—he remained at Shanklin two or three hours; he said he should call on Monday to see the deceased and say goodbye to him before going back to America—on Monday I did not see the prisoner; he did not say at what time he should call, and I was out when he called—when I came in, the deceased complained of being unwell and feeling sick—I did not see him actually vomiting—he went to bed about an hour and a half after dinner, about 9 o'clock—I came in about half-past 3 or 4 o'clock, and he said he felt sick then—I did not see him again that night after he went to bed.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrates "I do not call it illness, but indisposition—from 3 or 4 till 9 o'clock he was with me all the time—after he went to bed I did not see him till next morning at breakfast; my wife was with me up to breakfast time—he went from his bedroom up to

the landing—he could go upstairs quicker than you or I could; he travelled upstairs with his hands; there was no difficulty in his crawling about to get from place to place—he could get upstairs without difficulty.

Re-examined. He propelled himself with his hands from step to step backwards, seating himself from step to step—he had visited me on other occasions, but no medical man ever prescribed for him while he was staying with me.

By MR. WILLIAMS. I saw him last before his death on 10th September, when we left him at Mr. Bedbrook's on our return from Shanklin—this paper (produced) is the prisoner's writing to the best of my belief.

Monday, March 13 th.

WILLIAM STEVENSON . I live at Heywood, Bournemouth—I am the editor of the Bournemouth Observer—I made the acquaintance of the prisoner in October, 1879, when he resided at Beaumont Terrace, Bournemouth—he afterwards removed to another residence called Hursley, which was a house standing in its own grounds—about the end of 1880 the prisoner had communicated to me that he was in difficulties with regard to money, and in April, 1881, he informed me that there was one execution in his house—I subsequently found there were two—I afterwards introduced to the prisoner a Mr. M'Ewen Brown as a suitable person to make an arrangement with his creditors—his furniture was sold by private aution; Mr. M'Ewen Brown bought it and paid out the executions, and had an absolute assignment of the furniture to himself—in the month of April, 1881, the prisoner left Bournemouth for America—at that time he owed me over 100l.—that money is still owing—on the 26th of October, 1881, I received this letter from the prisoner. (This, dated 25 th, stated that it was his intention to raise a sum of money in London for the purpose of satisfying his creditors at Bournemouth.) I saw the prisoner on the following evening, the 27th October, when he asked me for a case of surgical instruments which he had left with me, a travelling rug, and 5l.—I let him have them, and he left Bournemouth at midday on 28th, and I have not seen him since until now—I have seen a case of instruments in the possession of Mr. Robinson, a pawnbroker—that was the case which I had given to the prisoner.

EDWARD WYSE REBBECK . I am an estate agent at Bournemouth, and am agent for the owner of Hursley, which was occupied by the prisoner—he paid the rent to Christmas, 1880, but the rent to Lady Day, 35l., was not paid—a distress was made, the furniture and effects were seized, and I paid the landlord his rent—the balance, 40l. 17s., was passed over to the Sheriff towards other executions—I believe there were three writs in the hands of the Sheriff—the distress was levied at the latter part of March I believe.

MEYRICK HEATH . I am cashier at the Bournemouth branch of the Wilts and Dorset Banking Company—I knew the prisoner in the way of business—he opened an account at our bank on 9th November, 1880—it was closed in January, 1881—I wrote him a letter on 20th January, 1881 (Notice to produce this and other letters was proved by William Morley, French clerk to Messrs. Wontner, solicitors conducting the prosecution for the Treasury. The letter not being produced, a copy was read as follows: "Dear Sir,—I much regret that the bank will not allow me to honour any further cheque of yours until you provide for them. I must therefore

request you not to draw more cheques before your remittances arrive. Yours faithfully, M. Heath, pro Manager. ")

WILLIAM RANSOME CORDER . I am a surgeon—I was a surgeon on board the steamship City of Berlin, which sailed from Liverpool on April 7th last, and arrived at New York on the 17th—the prisoner, who was a passenger on board, introduced himself, and said that he had sold his practice in Bournemouth in consequence of illhealth—on 2nd July following I again saw the prisoner on board the same steamer, which was then homeward bound—the prisoner said he was in want of money, and if I lent him 5l. he would repay it on his arrival in London—I lent him the money—I afterwards met him in London—I did not ask him for it—the money has not been paid.

ROBERT ILIFF . I am baggage master to the Inman Steamship Company, Liverpool—I remember the steamship City of Brussels leaving Liverpool on 30th August last year—the prisoner left on board for New York.

THOMAS NEWCOMB . I am a purser in the service of the Inman Steamship Company—on 6th October last I sailed from New York in the steamship City of Montreal—we arrived at Liverpool on 16th or 17th October—the prisoner was a passenger on board.

JAMES CROOME . I am one of the firm of Croome and Son, upholsterers, of Bournemouth—in January, 1881, the prisoner owed us 63l. 4s. 3d. for goods supplied from November, 1879—I issued a writ and put in an execution in March, but was too late; the goods were all removed—I received 14l. 6s. 7d. from the Sheriff, and the balance is still unpaid.

THOMAS CULLAN . I am a Fellow of the Institute of Chartered Accountants, and carry on business in Vigo Street—in November, 1880, the prisoner applied to me, and I lent him 200l. between 23rd November, 1880, and 1st March, 1881—I received this letter from him in New York:—" New York, 27th May. My dear brother Cullan,—I am only just off a sick-bed, which has very nearly ended my earthly career, and I feel I must send you a few lines just to tell you of the cause of my long silence. My obligation to you hangs constantly over my head, and by the next European mail (early next week) I trust to be able to send a more satisfactory letter. In the greatest haste, gratefully and sincerely yours, and with best fraternal greetings, GEO. H. LAMSON. TO Thos. Cullan, Esq."—I never saw or heard from him after that.

THOMAS ALFRED ROBINSON . I am a pawnbroker, of 26, Mortimer Street, Regent Street—this contract note of 24th November, 1881, refers to the pawning by Dr. G. H. Lamson, of Nelson's Hotel, of a case of surgical instruments and a gold hunting watch for 5l.—the instruments are those shown to Mr. Stevenson this morning—the prisoner pawned them himself, and signed this counterfoil.

JOHN HENRY ASHBRIDGE . I am stationmaster at Ryde, Isle of Wight—on 30th November, about 2 p.m., I saw the prisoner at Ryde Pierhead on his arrival from Portsmouth—he came to me with one of the tickettakers, and said that he wished to get to Ventnor and had no money, and would I enable him to get on—he said that he was well known, and I let him go in charge of a guard—he said that he should return by the 3.10 train from Ventnor—that would only give him three or four minutes there—the fare was 2s. 10d.—I did not see him afterwards, but I ascertained that the money was paid.

PRICE OWEN . I am a wine merchant, of High Street, Ventnor—I know the prisoner—on 30th November I had been out; my clerk sent for me, and I found the prisoner there—my clerk said in his presence that he had cashed a cheque for 10l. for the prisoner—the prisoner said that he had called to ask me to cash a cheque for 20l., but that he was in such a hurry to catch the train, he had not waited for me to return—there was a cab at the door, and he went away—he returned in 10 or 15 minutes and said that he had lost the train, and would I now cash him a cheque for 20l.—I did so, and he handed me this cheque (Dated 30 th November, 1881, on the Wilts and Dorset Bank. Pay Price Owen or order, 20l.)—I tore up the 10l. cheque and burnt it in his presence—that was on the same bank, out of the same book—after a little conversation he left—on 1st December I received this telegram. (From Dr. Damson, Horsham Railway Station, to Pries Owen:—"Just discovered the cheque you cashed yesterday made on wrong bank; please don't send it on. Letter follows next post. ") In the course of post I received this letter from the prisoner: "Nelson's Hotel, Great Portland Street, London, December 1, 1881. Dear Sir,—I sent you a telegram just before leaving my friends at Horsham, telling you I had written my cheque on the wrong bank, which was the case. I formerly had an account at the Wilts and Dorset Bank, but have since transferred my business to another house. The cheques are precisely the same colour, and as I left home in a great hurry I suatched up from my drawer what I thought was the right book, but I was mistaken. I had in my hurry taken my old Wilts and Dorset chequebook, which contained a few blank cheques. I have not the right book with me, but have wired home for it to be sent me by return to Ventnor, where I return tomorrow or next day; I shall then immediately set the matter right with you. Begging you will excuse such an inexcusable piece of stupidity on my part, in great haste, yours faithfully, Geo. H. Lamson, M. D.") The cheque was returned dishonoured, and I have never received my 20l.

JOHN LAW TULLOCH . I am a student of medicine, and live at Alma Square, St. John's Wood—I have known the prisoner for some time—I saw him last December, and had not seen him since the previous April—I saw him on December 1 last, on Thursday night, at my house—I think he said he was going to Paris on the following morning—he said he was staying at Nelson's Hotel—the next day he called upon me at 1.30, and had dinner; he then said he was going to Paris in the evening—I went with him to Nelson's Hotel, and assisted him in packing his luggage—I went with him from the hotel to Waterloo Station; we took a large leather portmanteau and handbag, and, I think, a rug; we went to the cloakroom—he said whilst packing that he would run down to Wimbledon to see if he could see his brother-in-law, and if he could catch the train afterwards he would go on to Paris—at the cloakroom he deposited the portmanteau and rug, and took the handbag with him—we went together to Wimbledon; it was, I think, about 6 o'clock—when we got to Wimbledon he told me he was going opposite, to the school; Mr. Bedbrook's—I waited for him at a public-house—he came back in about 20 minutes, and said he had seen his brother-in-law, who was very much worse, and he did not think he would live long, and that Mr. Bedbrook, who was a director of one of the Continental lines to Paris, told him it was as well that he did not go that night, as there was a bad boat on the service—we

returned to town together, and went to the Comedy Theatre, Panton Street; after that we went to Stone's public-house opposite the theatre, where he wrote a cheque for 12l. 10s. in my favour, handed it to me, and asked me to get it cashed for him—we went first to the Adelphi Hotel in Adam Street, but we could not get it cashed there—we then drove to the Eyre Arms, St. John's Wood, near to which I reside—Mr. Perrot, the landlord, cashed the cheque for me, and I handed the money to the prisoner, and parted from him for the night, and arranged to meet him at the Adelphi Hotel next day—I saw him there at about 3 or 4 o'clock on Saturday, December 3—he said he was too late for the Paris train; he should go to the Horse Shoe—I went down to see him off that afternoon, but he was too late, and said he should go in the evening—we went to the Horse Shoe to have some refreshments—when there we found that one of the bags, which was supposed to contain 5l. of silver contained only copper—we returned to the Eyre Arms and got the copper changed for a 5l. note—he left me there at about 6 o'clock—I did not see or hear from him again until after he was in custody—the cheque went forward for presentation, and was dishonoured—it is marked "No account"—since he has been in custody I received this letter from him: "Clerkenwell, December 13, 1881. I have only today learned that the cheque you had cashed for me had been returned. I discovered when too late that I had given it on the wrong bank in Bournemouth by mistake, but sent word there to advise them what has been done, but the events of the past few days stopped everything. I have, however, given the necessary instructions, and the amount will be in your hands very soon. I confess I am very much surprised at the whole affair, and more than anything at your attitude towards, or I should better say, against me, which I am pained and hurt at after your words of a few days ago. For obvious reasons any further explanations must be deferred to a future period.—I am, yours, &c, G. H. Lamson. J. L. Tulloch, Esq. "I have not received the money.

Cross-examined. I have said today "The prisoner said on December 2 the boy is very much worse, and I don't think he will last long," that is correct—I cannot remember whether I said before the Magistrate that the prisoner said" I have been to the school and seen the boy, and he is not very well"—I may have said" The curvature of the spine is getting worse, and the boy generally is not in a good state of health"—I do not think he said anything to me about the boy having been passing though his examination that day—I was perfectly sober that night—my brother is here—the endorsement on the cheque is mine; it was signed that night—I had been on friendly terms with the prisoner—he had lent me money as often as I had lent him—I no not still owe him money—he did not lend me 20l. actually—he gave me a oheque for 20l., which covered a debt of his to me—in August, 1879, I think I owed him 20l.—this letter is in my writing. (The letter was dated August 23, 1879; in it the witness referred to a loan of 20l., which he had received from the prisoner, and which he hoped soon to discharge, and requested to lend him another 20l., and "so add one to the list of favours and kindnesses already very long" which he had experienced from him.) He had been very kind to me, I do not mean in the way of money, but whenever he came to town he used to send for me, and take me out to dinner and to the theatre, and he would pay for all.

Re-examined. I never got the second 20l.—I have repaid the 20l.

WILLIAM TULLOCH (Not examined in chief.) Cross-examined. The 5l. which the prisoner received from the pawning of the instruments he gave to me, I believe—I have known him some time, and have been on very friendly terms with him—I know of my own knowledge that he has suffered most acutely from neuralgia—I have found him in all his dealings a kindly man, most certainly—he has lent me money on one or two occasions—I think I received the 5l. on November 24—I was temporarily pressed for money, and, understanding that Dr. Lamson was a man of means, I had written to ask him for it—I did not know how he obtained it—I received it from him personally—he came to my office in Moorgate Street—I think I can produce the press copy of my letter, but have not got it with me.

SIDNEY HARBORD . I am cashier at the American Exchange, Strand—the prisoner was a subscriber to the end of March—I saw him on Nov. 28 last—he brought a cheque for 15l. on the Wilts and Dorset Bank, and asked me to cash it—he told me he was Dr. Lamson, and was staying at Nelson's Hotel—I declined to do it in the absence of the head of the agency, and he took it away—this label marked "Capsules" was attached to a parcel which came to the agency from New York for the prisoner about three weeks before 28th November—I cannot read the date; I can only see "ork"—it was damaged coming through the post, and it would be put into a box kept for that purpose and given to the prisoner when he called—this is one of our receipts: "George H. Lamson, Esq., 5s. for one month, March 30, 1881. "

JAMES CREIGHTON NELSON . I am the proprietor of Nelson's Hotel, Great Portland Street—the prisoner was staying at my hotel in November last year and down to December—I rendered him accounts on two or three occasions—the total amount due was 7l. 17s. 7d. down to 2nd December—on 26th November I received this letter from him. (Read: Saturday morning, 26, 11, 81. Dear Sir,—I have been sent for to go with as little delay as possible to the place where my wife is now staying, as my little girl is quite ill, and my wife is terribly anxious about the child, and wishes besides to change her quarters. She will come to London for a short time until I leave for the Continent myself. As I am therefore very anxious to yield to her wishes, and as it would render it impossible for me to bring her back with me if I went into the City to procure the sum I require for the journey, her account, &c., up to the present time, I venture to ask you if you would be good enough to let me have 5l. until my return with her in the evening (today). I should be very sorry to have to put you to any inconvenience, but I feel certain you will do this for me, knowing my parents, &c., &c. If I do not catch the 10.30 train from Victoria I cannot return to-day, as it is important that I should. I should require the sitting-room (No. 29) which my mother had while here. The bedroom I now occupy would be naturally sufficient for my wife and self, but if she wishes the child to come here as well I should require another room for her and the nurse. I shall ask you to kindly see that a large trunk be taken out of the left luggage room at Euston Station and brought here and kept in a safe place, as it contains a quantity of silver plate and household valuables worth a considerable sum. Mrs. Lamson wishes to have the plate, &c., and some music contained in the same trunk for her own use. Excuse the very bad and illegible manner I have written this note, but my eyesight

is very bad by artificial light, and I have mislaid my glasses. Apologising for venturing to ask the favour I seek from you, I am, dear Sir, yours faithfully, Geo. H. Lamson. (Room 30.) "I did not comply with the request to let him have 5l.—on Nov. 29 I received this letter from him. "Dr. Lamson (from room No. 30) begs that some one may be sent to Mr. Buszard's, confectioner, &c., Oxford Street, two or three doors from the Pantheon, going towards Oxford Circus, and the following articles procured and brought here for Dr. Lamson, viz., one Dundee cake, 3s. size; 2lbs. crystallized fruits, assorted. In these fruits the following fruits to be left out (chinois, green or yellow, or limes) and nuts. Only the following to be sent in these fruits—apricots (glace, not crystallised), greengages (glace, and only two or three of them), some small yellow plum cherries, "brochettes," knottes, and lunnettes. A large proportion of the three last articles in the 2lbs. as ordered is desired. Dr. Lamson would suggest that the above order be shown to the attendant at Buszard's, as the messenger could hardly be expected to remember the whole order as above given. Dr. Lamson begs there may be no delay in sending for these articles, as he wishes to take them with him to Harrow for a birthday gift, and he particularly wishes to start early so as to be back soon to prepare for leaving for the Continent in the evening. As Dr. Lamson does not know the price of the articles he has ordered, he begs they may be paid for him, and he will settle when he comes down to breakfast. Room No. 30, Nelson's Portland Hotel, November 29, 1881. "That was not complied with—I did not send for them and pay for them—I saw him on the Friday evening he left; he said he would take a portion of his luggage with him, and the remainder he would come for in about two hours; that he would pay his bill, and then start for the Continent—I did not see him again till I saw him at Wandsworth—the police searched the portmanteaus that were left with me—they are still in my possession.

Cross-examined. I had known his father—he came up in the early part of November—I understand he is a reverend gentleman, and is an American clergyman at Florence—his name was given as the Rev. Mr. Lamson.

DAVID ORMOND (Re-examined). The sum of 497l. 16s. 5d. in India Four Cents., a portion of Hubert's money, was transferred to the prisoner on 24th September, 1879, in Consols—the will of Mr. H. John, the father of the deceased, is here—Mrs. John had only a life interest.

Cross-examined. I do not know that the prisoner's wife was entitled to an equity of the settlement, which she waived.

WILLIAM GREENHILL CHAPMAN (Re-examined). The signature "George Henry Lamson" to these two affidavits are the prisoner's, and also the signature to this agreement. (The affidavits stated that no settlement was made on or before the prisoner's marriage other than the agreement marked" B, "which was dated 14 th October, 1878, and recited that Kate John was possessed of six freehold mortgage bonds, guaranteed by the Mercantile Trust Company of New York, value 1,000 dollars, for her sole and separate use, free from the control of any husband)—I received this letter dated 7th December, 1881, from the prisoner. (Read:" Paris, Wednesday morning, Dec. 7, 1881. My dear Will,—Your letter reached me on Monday night too late to catch any train except one, via Dieppe, and which I should have had to rush for. This the doctor would not allow me to do. I was so prostrate at

the sudden, awful, and most unexpected news that I became delirious very soon. I was obliged to remain in bed all day yesterday. Early this morning I saw the Evening Standard. I read therein the dreadful suspicion attached to my name. I need not tell you of the absolute falsity of such a fearful accusation. Bedbrook was present all the time I was in the house, and if there was any noxious substance in the capsule it must have been in his sugar, for that was all there was in it. He saw me take the empty capsule and fill it from his own sugarbasin. However, with the consciousness that I am an innocent and unjustly accused man, I am returning at once to London to face the matter out. If they wish to arrest me they will have ample opportunity of doing so. I shall attempt no concealment. I shall arrive at Waterloo Station about 9.15 tomorrow (Thursday) morning. Do try and meet me there. If I do not see you there I shall go straight to your house, trusting to the possibility of finding Kitty there.—In great haste, yours truly, GEO. H. LAMSON.—W. G. Chapman, Esq. "

Cross-examined. The marriage took place in October, 1878, to the best of my recollection—there is one little girl.

INSPECTOR BUTCHER (Re-examined). The matter was put into my hands on Monday, 5th December—on the evening of the 7th I went to Mr. Chapman's at Willesden—next morning, the 8th, I sent Sergeant Moser to Paris—on the morning of the 8th I was at Scotland Yard; the prisoner came there—I saw him in a room there, and he said, "Mr. Butcher?"—I said "Yes"—he said, "My name is Lamson; I am Dr. Lamson, whose name has been mentioned in connection with the death at Wimbledon"—I said, "Will you be seated?"—he continued, "I have called to see what is to be done about it; I considered it best to do so; I read the account in the public papers at Paris, and came over this morning; I have only just now arrived in London; I am very unwell, and much upset about this matter, and am not in a fit state at all to have undertaken the journey"—I made a communication to Chief Superintendent Williamson, and then said to the prisoner, "You will have to remain for a time"—I remained with him—his wife was present, and he conversed on various subjects for some time—he then said, "Where is the delay? I thought I would come here and leave my address. I am going into the country, to Chichester, so that you would know where to find me and attend the inquest. I have travelled from Paris, via Havre and Southampton; I went over via Dover and Calais. "I then again saw Chief Superintendent Williamson, and called the prisoner into another room—I said, "Your case has been fully considered, and it has been decided to charge you with causing the death of Percy John. I thereupon take you into custody, and charge you with causing the death of Percy Malcolm John at Blenheim House, Wimbledon, on December 3rd"—he said, "Very well. Do you think bail will be accepted? I hope the matter will be kept as quiet as possible for the sake of my relations"—I said, "You will now be taken to Wandsworth Police-court, and when before the Magistrates the question of bail will rest with them"—I conveyed him in a cab to Wandsworth, and on the way he said, "You will have my father here in a day or two. I hope it will be stated that I came to Scotland Yard voluntarily, and that I came from Paris on purpose"—I said, "Certainly"—I searched the prisoner at Wandsworth Station and found two letters, one signed "J. W. L." and the other

"W. Tulloch," an envelope containing his address in Paris, a pawnbroker's ticket for a case of surgical instruments and gold watch, a cloakroom ticket, a chequebook upon the Wilts and Dorset Bank, seven and a half francs, 6 1/2 d. in bronze, and the diary produced—in the box at the Euston cloakroom I found some prescription books, a cloakroom ticket books of various kinds, a quantity of music, several plated goods, and a large number of letters.

Cross-examined. When he came to Scotland Yard his wife came with him.

The SOLICITORGENERAL read from one of the books found in possession of the prisoner the following extract:—"Effects of acrid vegetable poisons when swallowed: Soon after swallowing any of these poisons there is felt an acrid biting, more or less bitter tasting in the mouth, with great dryness and burning heat. The throat becomes painfully tight, with a sense of strangling, distressing retching, vomiting and purging, and pains more or less severe in the stomach and bowels ensue, and those are succeeded by a quick and throbbing pulse, oppressed breathing and panting, a tottering gait, as if the patient were intoxicated, alarming weakness, sinking, and death. Sometimes there are convulsions more or less severe, acute pain, causing plaintive cries, with stiffness of the limbs. The several poisons of this class vary much in the violence of their effects."

GEORGE LAMB . I am a porter at Wimbledon station, the SouthWestern line station—I was on duty there on the evening of Dec. 3—shortly before the 7.20 train was due the prisoner came on the platform, and asked me if it was the Waterloo train—I told him that it was—he got into a carriage, and then asked me if there was time to change carriages—I told him there was, and he did so—he then asked me if I could send a message to Blenheim House, and I told him that I could take it—he wrote something on an envelope, and placed some money inside—I took it to Blenheim House, and left it there.

At MR. WILLIAMS'S request, the following letter was read, addressed to the prisoner's solicitor:

"Whitehall, Dec. 15, 1881. Sir,—The Secretary of State having had under his consideration your letter of the 13th inst., requesting that Dr. G. H. Lamson should be permitted to be represented by an analyst at the examination which is about to be made of the stomach and viscera of Malcolm John deceased, I am directed to acquaint you that he is unable to comply with your request, the presence of a third medical man at an official analysis ordered by this department being contrary to all practice.—I am, sir, your obedient servant, A. F. 0. LIDDELL. A. W. Mills, Esq., 6, South Square, Gray's Inn, W. C."


27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-368
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-369
VerdictsNot Guilty > unknown; Guilty > unknown
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

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369. JOHN HAMMOND (24) , Feloniously killing and slaying Elizabeth Hammond.

MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted. The surgeon being unable to state whether the deceased died from the prisoner's

violence or from natural causes, MR. POLAND, at the suggestion of the COURT, withdrew from the prosecution, and a verdict of

NOT GUILTY was given upon this indictment ; but the Jury afterwards found the prisoner GUILTY of a common assault . A certificate of his previous conviction of assaulting the deceased in 1879 was then put in.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Recorder.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-370
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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370. BLANCHARD EDWARDS, Unlawfully, while employed in the service of the Loog Company, Limited, making certain false entries in a cashbook, and also omitting to enter certain sums, with intent to defraud.


JAMES BIGG . I live at Ranger's House, Peckham—on 19th October I bought a sewing machine from the prisoner for 6l.—he gave me this receipt—it is for sewing machine No. 251,590, and is signed "Blanchard Edwards"—discount is taken off—this is the cheque I gave him—it has been duly honoured—I never paid him any sum afterwards in respect of it—that settled the whole account.

JOHN PHILLIPS . I am a bricklayer, of 18, Coleman Street, Camberwell—on 5th October I bought a sewing machine of the prisoner, price 6l., and paid him 3l. on account on that day, for which I received this receipt (For 3l., in part payment for machine 245,766, balance to be paid within three months)—I did not pay him 10s. on 12th November, or 2s. 6d. on 6th December, or any other payments.

ARTHUR MASSEY . I am a letter carrier—I bought a sewing machine of the prisoner in July, price 7l.—I received this book, and made my payments, 1s. a week, at the shop in Suez Terrace, Bermondsey, where the prisoner lived—soon after Christmas I went to the shop and paid 2l. 10s. to Townsend, the collector, who gave me this receipt in prisoner's presence, and allowed me 2s. 6d. discount (This was for 2l. 12s. 6d.)—I made further payments of 1s. a week—I did not pay 5s. in January.

Cross-examined. I do not how much was left due on 6th January—I do not know the other place of business—I don't think the prisoner's name was up at Sues Terrace—this was a "Singer" machine—I don't know whether it is a German one—I received the book on the 18th July at Suez Terrace; the entry of 9th July was already made in it—I saw the prisoner's wife on that occasion; I first saw him on 11th July, when I purchased the machine.

FANNY ELIZABETH BRUEN . On 7th December I bought a sewing machine of the prisoner; the price was 4l. 19s., but I had it for 4l.—I went to the office in Walworth Road, paid the 4l., and got this receipt signed "Blanchard Edwards per C. Cruikshank"—I did not pay 10s. after that in respect of the machine, or 2s., or anything.

ARTHUR HICKMAN . I live at 24, Edward Street, Kennington, and am a carman—in November, 1881, I purchased the sewing machine at the depot, Walworth Road—I made payments on account, 4l. 10s.; my wife paid 30s. of it; this is the receipt; and on 7th December I made another payment of 1l. 10s.

Cross-examined. I bought it on the hire system; I signed an agreethat if I did not pay regularly the machine should become the property of the people selling it—that remained in Edwards's possession; I bought it of Edwards—I never heard of the Loog Company.

Re-examined. I can't say whether "The Loog Company" was on larger paper than this produced—Mr. Townsend took it away—the shop is 310, Walworth Road.

ALFRED JOB . I keep the Mason's Arms, East Street, Walworth—I have known the prisoner as a customer three or four months; I can't say the date, but he brought me a sewing machine and asked me to lend him 30s. till 11 o'clock the next day, as he was going to pay a man off who was going to leave him—I gave him the 30s., and he left the machine as security—he never removed it, but I think he came again; I did not mention the machine or produce it—I never agreed to pay for any machine, or hire it, or pay for it by instalments; I never paid him 5s. on account of it.

CHARLOTTE CRUIKSHANKS . I live at 45, Sydney Street, and have been in the prosecutor's employ since October—I entered into an agreement with the Loog Company under which from 15th October the prisoner paid me weekly; my hours were from 9 a. m. to 7 p.m. at 310, Walworth Road; that is the company's depot. (This was dated 15 th October, between the Loog Company and the witness, who agreed to serve him at 12s. a week, signed Emily Edwards.) That is the prisoner's wife—I made entries in the rough cashbook from time to time of moneys which I received, and in the fair cashbox, and from these books I made out weekly returns—the prisoner from time to time made entries in the fair cashbook, and I sometimes made entries there by his dictation—I believe Mr. Biggs had a sewing machine; I don't know that he paid 6l.—I did not receive it; there is no entry of it in the rough cashbook, but in the fair cashbook I find 10s. entered on 18th October in my writing; I did that by the prisoner's direction—I also find an entry on 19th November of 5s. in the prisoner's wife's writing—this entry," December 10, 5s. from Mr. Bigg," is the prisoner's writing, and so is this 5s. from Bigg on 10th January—this sheet of entries with regard to Mr. Bigg's machine is my writing; I made it by the prisoner's order—that is the weekly return sheet to the company; there is no writing of the prisoner's in it—I handed it to him—it would be made out on a Monday, and would be forwarded to the office sometimes on Monday and sometimes on Tuesday; I had nothing to do with that; there would be another sheet of the payments—this sheet for October 19th is in Mrs. Edwards's writing; there is none of the prisoner's writing in it—this sheet of 19th November is some of it in my writing under the prisoner's direction; I got it from the cashbook—I made all these entries except the three at the end; this 5s. from Biggs is written by Mrs. Edwards, and this total, 4l. 9s. 6d., is her writing—there is no initialling here; this "Bigg 5s." on the 10th December is in my writing under the prisoner's direction; that agrees with the entry in my writing in the cashbook—this "Bigg 5s." on 10th January is my writing under the prisoner's direction—I accounted to him for the cash paid, which was counted over every evening, and what I had in the rough cashbook I handed to him—Bigg's sums were not in the rough cashbook at all—there is no entry in the rough cashbook on 12th November of 10s. from Phillips, but in the fair cashbook on 12th November here is an entry of "Phillips 10s. "in Mrs. Edwards's writing; there is no writing of the prisoner's on that page—this entry "10th December, Phillips 2s. 6d." is in the prisoner's writing—I went there on 6th October, and this book was in

use when I went—I find an entry of the prisoner's on 5th October, "Phillips 3l."—that payment was not actually made on that day; there is no entry of it in the fair cashbook—in the return sheet of 12th November here is "Phillips, 12s.," and on 10th December 2s. 6d. is carried out—that is my writing under the prisoner's direction—this (produced) is Massey's instalmentbook—this entry of 2l. 10s., representing 2l. 12s. 6d. with the discount, is in Townsend's writing; that is not entered in the fair cashbook—the Bermondsey books were also kept at 310, Walworth Road—I find in the Bermondsey fair cashbook "Massey, 10s." in my writing; that was done under the prisoner's direction—this is the return sheet of that date; it is in my writing, made by the prisoner's direction from the fair cashbook—it is not carried out here as 2l. 10s., but 5s. only, and initialled by the prisoner—Miss Bruen's machine is entered on 7th December in the rough cashbook—I signed this receipt in the office, and used the office stamp—the 4l. was handed to Mrs. Edwards in my presence—it is entered in the rough cashbook "Bruen, cash 4l."—here is another entry in the cashbook at page 23, "Bruen, 10s.," in the prisoner's writing, bat there is no entry of the 4l.—there is no entry in the rough cashbook on 10th January of 2s. from Miss Bruen, but in the fair cashbook here is" Bruen, 2s. "in the prisoner's writing—I have got the return sheet of that week, but there is no entry in it of 4l. on the 10th from Miss Bruen—the entry made is 10s.—that is in my writing, at the prisoner's direction—this "Bruen, 2s." in the return is in my writing—I signed this receipt marked "G "for 30s., and also this receipt "F" on the same day for 30s., making 3l.—3l. is entered in the rough cashbook in my writing—the money was handed to me by Mrs. Edwards, and I put it in the till for the prisoner in the ordinary way—I find in the fair cashbook on 2nd November an entry in my writing "Hickman 1l.," not 3l.; the prisoner had told me to leave it open, and he put in his own figures afterwards—the return was afterwards made out 1l., and not of the actual receipt of 3l. that is in my writing—I copied the 1l. from the fair cashbook—this receipt for 1l. 10s. on 7th December is in my writing—I put the money in the till, and made a proper entry in the cashbook on 5th December; that was done because the money was brought in by one of the machinists, and the receipt was signed two days afterwards because I entered it on the 5th, when I got the money—here is an entry in the prisoner's writing on 6th December "Hickman, 10s."—he has not entered the true sum, and there is no entry to make up the true sum; that is continued to the entry in the rough cashbook—here is an entry on 30th December, 1881, in the return sale sheet in Mrs. Edwards's writing, initialled by the prisoner—that was on the sale or hire, of machine 262,476, invoiced 23rd December, 1881, "Dec. 30, supplied to Albert Job, Masons' Arms, selling price 4l. 19s."—this is the machine. (Examining it)—the number is 262,476—I have an entry that day in my writing "Job 15s."—that was made under the prisoner's direction—I believe he paid 15s. on credit, as if it had come from Job, for the machine—I find in the fair cashbook "Job payment 5s." in my writing—that was done by the prisoner's direction—this sheet was copied in the fair cashbook; it is in Mrs. Edwards's writing; it is initialled by her.

Cross-examined. I have seen Mr. Hermann Loog on the premises looking over some bills—I never received any orders from him, only from the prisoner; I looked to him as my master—"Blanchard Edwards."

was over the door, and nothing about the Loog Company—I occasionally witnessed the signing of agreements for sewing machines—Walter Blanchard Edwards was always described as the owner of the machines—this memorandumbook is in my writing, but the name and address are in Mrs. Edwards's writing—I often wrote the preliminary page of a purchaser's book, and always described the machine as belonging to Walter Blanchard Edwards until the whole money was paid—there is not a single sentence about the Loog Company.

Re-examined. The prisoner and his wife conducted the business, but I knew that the Loog Company were paying my wages and supporting the establishment.

THOMAS TOWNSEND . On 14th September, 1881, I signed this agreement—it is filled up partly in the writing of Mr. Loog himself—I acted under it as manager to Loog, and am still in the service—the prisoner acted as manager at Walworth—I received my weekly wages from the prisoner—on 6th January I received 2l. 10s. from Massey in the prisoner's presence, and wrote this receipt at the time—Massey was credited with 2l. 12s. 6d.—I paid the money to Miss Cruikshank at the other office next morning—I worked at Bermondsey the first part of the time, before the Walworth office was opened; that was up to the middle of July.

Cross-examined. I had to do with taking the machines from the manufacturers, in a cart and bringing them back again—the prisoner's name was on the cart—I do not know when the little word "Manager" was painted in, but it was done by a man named Benedict, by my direction—Mrs. Edwards gave me the order to have that done after the prisoner was in custody—I have seen Mr. Loog, at Suez Terrace, half a dozen times, but never received payment from him in any way—Edwards always paid me, and gave me my orders, and his name was up at Walworth Road—there was no name up at Suez Terrace—I first went to Edwards's last April or May—he engaged me at 1l. a week and commission—I was to be Mrs. Edwards's servant—I heard of the Loog Company the same time that I was engaged—I understood that he was selling their machines.

Re-examined. This (produced) is one of the hiring agreements for sewing machines which were in use when I went into the service in April—this one was filled up in the prisoner's writing—here are seven in his writing and one not. (This was a printed form, stating that the machines were the property of Hermann Loog, and would be forfeited in default of payment. They were all dated in April.)

HERMANN LOOG . I am managing director of this Company—on 23rd April, 1878, acting on behalf of the Company, I took No. 22, Suez Terrace, St. James's Road, Camberwell, at 36l. per annum—this is the original agreement; it is signed by Mr. Whitaker, the landlord, and is made with the Hermann Loog Company, Limited—the premises were taken expressly as a depot of this Company—the prisoner and his wife occupied the premises—they paid no rent—the company paid both rates and taxes—I first came in contact with the prisoner in August last year, but I had employed his wife previously—this agreement was printed in 1878—the date ought to have been altered to 1881, but I did not notice it—the first occupation of the premises by the prisoner was when his wife went there after this agreement—I did not know at the time that he was under the covenant not to enter the services of any sewing machine

dealers, but he informed me of it afterwards—he simply continued in August the agreement made with his wife in April—I conversed with him on the terms of this agreement, and his wife signed it in his presence with his sanction, at the time when he was under covenant, as he could not serve me then—I recommended him to a person in Brighton to work for him till the three months of his covenant expired, and made this arrangement with his wife till he was free from this covenant—no other arrangement was made with him except what is contained in this agreement.

Cross-examined. This letter produced was written by my order on 16th March; it was at that time that I first made overtures to the prisoner—I was selling the German Singer machines—he had been, I believe, in the employ of the Singer Company—this letter was a preliminary arrangement and was never acted upon, and I suggested that his wife should enter into arrangements with me for three months to carry on the business with me, and then that he should carry it on—there was no occasion to defer to that arrangement, he was present and it was done with his wife for his convenience—I issued this circular produced—I settled that—these goods (Looking at an invoice) were supplied to the prisoner on the dates set out; before the agreement with his wife; they could not have been supplied under the agreement because they began on March 2nd, and the agreement is dated March 16—I commenced negotiations with him through the last day of February or March 1st—from March to April we were negotiating about the terms of the agreement—he came to me without any particular introduction, and although we supplied goods to him in March without the agreement, it was simply on account of the introduction.

Re-examined. The prisoner was present when this agreement was signed—it was made for his benefit—it was made with his wife pending his absence at Brighton. (The agreement between the Loog Company and the prisoner's wife toot here put in.) I got him a situation at Brighton as it was beyond the radius of the prohibition—the rent of the Walworth Road premises commenced in September—the lease is dated August 22nd—I spent 48l. in fitting up the premises, and they were used as a depot for my machines, and for no other purpose—my company paid the rent and taxes; there has been no adverse possession of those premises against my rights—the prisoner came to Peckham two or three times a week, and helped to look after the business—I supplied him on 22nd July with money on petty cash account—this is his receipt, "For 10l., signed W. B. Edwards"—that is on my printed heading; that was for money paid for petty expenses—here is another of his receipts for 5l., and another for 10l.; these moneys were paid to him to carry on the business and for wages—he made a return from week to week of the moneys he received—I have looked through the return sheets and find the facts entirely as stated by Miss Cruickshank—he charges me in the accounts 2s. a week for cleaning the shop and office; also for the gas account, Townsend's wages, Miss Cruickshank's wages, 2l. a week for himself, and 4d. for an omnibus for himself to the City—every machine bears a distinguishing number with which the manager at the depot is debited; it is his duty to make a return weekly of the machines sold—in these two sheets here is a return of the destination of two of the machines; they were invariably brought by him through from our head office—I

never demanded money of him for machines supplied—I received this letter from him while he was in the House of Detention. (MR. FULTON objected to the admission of this letter as it was marked "Without prejudice" but the COURT considered that there was no power to exclude it. This was signed by the prisoner, stating that he admitted pledging the machines, and that he had no right to do so, but that he did it to obtain money temporarily to pay canvassers who were pressing him for money; that he had no intention of wronging the company, and intended to plead to the charge without giving further trouble; that he would never again touch drink, and that he resigned all pretensions to the business.) If he wanted money it was his duty to come to me; he invariably got 10l. when he wanted it—the sheet of 3rd January shows a balance of 2l. 6s. 1 1/2 d., and balance in hand of 1l. 2s. 3 1/2 d. on two accounts, therefore he ought to have had the 1l. 2s. in the house; that is quite independent of the sums which he had already received in the other cases—he has never paid the 17l. 3s. received from Bigg, Phillips, Hickman, Job, and Massey, or given any account of it—I had some suspicion of falsification on 17th January, when this agreement was signed, but I had not discovered them—this pencil mark" Blanchard" is in the prisoner's writing; I don't know when he put it—I had received the agreement before it was signed; it was sent me by my solicitor early in September—it was the prisoner's habit to call regularly, but he had not called for the last few weeks—these three sewing machines are quite independent of the matters we have inquired into today—he says here, "Of course resigning all pretensions with relation to the business;" it was after that letter that his wife had the "manager" painted en the cart—my company bought the cart.

By MR. FULTON. I first came to this country with sewing machines in 1876; I described them from the commencement as "Singer's machines" and "Wheeler's machines"—I was restrained from selling them as "Singer's machines" until the Court of Appeal reversed the judgment; I don't know whether the matter is still awaiting the House of Lords—the prisoner had no capital; the only arrangements I made with him are here—I did not arrange that when he obtained cash I was to get cash, and that when he was obliged to sell on credit I was to wait until he got the money; the bad debts were not to be all his—no arrangement was arrived at about bad debts being borne by him—it was arranged that Mr. Rubenstein was to be security for him—his salary week by week is entered in the cashbook—this document of 16th March is not in my writing; it was written by my orders—this letter was written by my firm. (This was addressed to the prisoner, stating that a machine had been sent to him, and an agreement prepared for Mr. Ravenstein to sign. Another letter, of 16 th March, 1881, from the Company to the prisoner was put in also, mentioning Mr. Ravenstein as his security, and stating that they would give the prisoner all credit which he might require, and that if he paid the company before six months expired he would be allowed 5 per cent. interest, paying the cash and keeping the profit for himself.) On 18th March the goods value 6l. 14s. were sent to him, and other goods on other days on the terms mentioned in the agreement; the letter just read embodies the agreement—the first agreement between the Company and Mrs. Edwards was executed, and under that there was to be a salary paid; that is an entirely different agreement from the letter; there was no alteration in my mind, but I was advised

that the only way was to have a master and servant agreement, and I told him so in April—the agreement was made before he went to Brighton—he was not selling my machines there; he was quite independent of me—he came back finally from Brighton on 19th August—he had nothing to do with me while at Brighton except in this sense, that the agreement was made—I must have had a conversation with him about the agreement when he came up because here are his pencil marks on it, scratching out his name and putting in his wife's instead—the 2l. a week which was his wife's salary was to be his salary afterwards—I had nothing to do with the stamp, but no doubt it was a form which was in the office, and I used it; it bears the date of March 12—this entry, "Personal expenses half," means his salary, and here is another place, "Personal expenses 2l.," in his own writing twice over—I do not only suggest that it is his salary, but it is the word "half" shows the agreement—the persons who had to be fed will appear by the cash-book; there were two Miss Cruikshanks, the prisoner's wife, and two Miss Bagwells, but the Misses Bagwell were not paid—it was their own choice—I had nothing to do with the sisters-in-law—when he engaged Miss Cruikshank he mentioned her salary, 12s.—I protested against it as not being sufficient—he said she lived with her parents, and it would be sufficient—I would have paid her 1l.—the prisoner and his wife were in the same agreement—their salary was 2l., and they lived on the premises—she received a salary on account of her husband when he was at Brighton—one little girl, a Miss Bagwell, was there as an apprentice—there are no indentures—I first saw her about March or April, when the prisoner sent her to me to be instructed in the use of the machines, and she remained there till the prisoner was charged—this letter comes from my firm. (This was dated 30 th March, 1881, addressed to the prisoner, stating that it was of the utmost importance to the success of the business to have an efficient person to instruct customers in the use of the machines.) This (produced) is a hire agreement settled by me with my writing in the margin in red ink, and the owner is described as Blanchard Edwards—I returned that to the prisoner in this condition with another—the matter was at that time incomplete—I said in the letter, "I signed you your agreements;" it is plural—the fact is that the agreement whioh you have not produced is the one which we used—I have heard the evidence of Miss Cruikshank that Blanchard Edwards was in every case described as the owner, but the agreement I retained was the one which we used; here are two of them—it may be the fact that when he returned from Brighton and took the management that he and he only was described as the owner of the machines—here is one of August 2nd. (Several of the agreements were here produced, in all of which was the name of Edwards, and nothing was said about Loog and Co.) On 17th January an agreement was signed in my office, by which he was made my servant—my confidential clerk was present, but not my solicitor—the prisoner did not say, "If I sign that document I become a servant"—he did say, "I am your customer," but nothing about a servant—I said, "I do not care a twopennybit as to the past; our dealings will show our previous relationship"—he said, "I object to sign it; I am a customer, and my invoices will prove it"—by that agreement it was expressly set out that he was to be my servant—it was dated 17th January, but it had been lying in my office from the beginning or middle of December, and he had not turned up since Christmas—he put in the

name of his wife and put in his own name in pencil—that was some time after August—the pencil alteration would not make it an agreement—I thought then that the word "Brighton" was in his writing, and I think so now—I can't say whether I was present when it was written; I told you so six times; my memory does not serve me—it is very much like his writing—Ravenstein was his security; this (produced) is the security he gave—the business was to bear the loss of any bad debts made at either of the depots (The document stated that Mr. Ravenstein guaranteed and indemnified the Company against all loss by bad debts and breach of duty)—though he was my servant his bad debts were guaranteed because they could only arise from dishonesty on his part as manager—if a person had an agreement for hiring a machine, and went away without paying it, that would be a bad debt, but it would be a fraud—if a man had a machine on credit, and did not pay, we should fetch it back again—when the prisoner was given in custody a deskful of papers was stolen by a dozen fellows who broke in, and who employ you now—whatever invoices were on the premises when he left would be here; I took possession of all that were left—if the word" invoices" means what Mr. Besley explains then there are no invoices—in some of these invoices the word "but" is scratched out, and "on account" is added; that is in Mr. Smith's writing he left my employ several months ago, but this one of January 14th is either Mr. Watts or Mr. Wilding; neither of them are here—that alteration ought to have been made from the beginning, but it was not made through carelessness—I never saw one of these headed "310, Walworth Road" before—I knew that thousands of them were issued from 310 with Blanchard Edwards's name on them as selling the machines, but as bailee—I did not settle the draft of this document; I never saw a similar one to it—I did not know that Edwards appointed Gearing as his subagent, but it appears in our books that Gearing was his subagent.

By MR. BESLEY. I know that he has been in the employ of the Singer Company; they have offices at 39, Foster Lane, Cheapside—there was litigation between that Company and myself before the Company was formed; it began in 1878—there was a decision in their favour in 1879, and a decision of the Court of Appeal in my favour in 1880—Mr. Hooks was not acting as my solicitor in that action, but he was in other matters—by the master and servant agreement an arrangement was made about making invoices due six months after date—no such account current as that was delivered to the prisoner—there was an arrangement that half a year's interest was to be charged if paid before; he was to get credit for the interest—there never was an invoice or bill of parcels of that kind—Mr. Ravenstein never became security under any other document—that arrangement was never carried out—it was after March 30th that I saw Mr. Rooks, and in consequence of that I came to the agreement where the wife's name was used—I can't say whether the agreement with the wife was signed before or after this letter (produced) was received—that is a letter threatening Edwards from the solicitor to the Foster Lane firm that if he entered into our employ in any shape they would enforce the covenant—this agreement of his being a customer was never carried out—I never asked him for payment in any manner—the whole weekly expenses were carried out against me, and he came up twice a week from Brighton to assist—it was intended from the first that

he should be my servant, but he could not appear so openly; there was no change in his position with regard to the Company from the time of the agreement with the wife—we saw these long bailee agreements when he was away; we have seven or eight smaller forms of agreements in his writing in which the machines are described as the property of the Loog Company; the bailee forms were need with our knowledge, because he handed them to us—they have his name as the owner, because he was our bailee—he always had to bring us the agreements every week with the return sheets—the earliest date of these memorandum sheets is March 2, and every machine from that date which went into his possession was registered by its number—the invoice is merely a receiving note, although it is on one of our invoice bill heads—Miss Cruikshank and Mr. Townsend's agreements are printed forms by which they entered into the Company's service, and the prisoner was aware of them—Townsend's is dated 14th September at London Wall—it is signed in the prisoner's presence—he agrees to enter the service of the Loog Company—I filled it up in his presence—it was only in September that we began agreements; after the first two weeks my clerk went there for the cash sheets, and after that they had to send them in, which they did regularly—I kept a register of the persons who were paying on hire, and what were the actual returns of the money paid—the office boy, Hutton, is charged for, and so is porterage, and Christmas presents to scavengers—I keep a number of these memoranda of machines; this is Redfearn's, and here is a memorandum in the book of Redfearn's transactions—the fact of its being let for hire to Redfearn was known to me, and the money was entered for it in the weekly cash account, and the number of the machine is in the invoice—I found all the entries posted regularly in the ledgers of the depot with the information of who Redfearn was, and why he should be trusted in his weekly payments, or in the cashbook—I found Gearing's name in the ledger; he is a pawnbroker in Walworth Road, and was appointed agent for us—he has two of our machines for exhibition—there is no entry in the books of the depot of two sewing machines sent to Gearing—the letter from the House of Correction refers to his improperly letting Gearing have machines—I found them at another pawnshop in Exmouth Street, Clerkenwell; there is no memorandum of them—they are returned to us as sent to Gearing, but there is no notice of them being sent to Exmouth Street—this letter of January 3, 1882, was written before the agreement with Mr. Edwards was signed; it refers to the position of matters between me and him. (Two letters upon this subject were here put in, one from the prisoner and one from his wife.) In consequence of one of these letters I sent money for the gas company which was due—I had no communication with him referring to matters of business in consequence of these letters—I had instituted inquiries about some missing instalment books, but had not made any inquiries of the prisoner personally.

GEORGE ARTHUR ROOKS . I am a solicitor, and have been in practice a good many years—at the end of March a communication was made to me about the proposal to have such an arrangement as is in this letter of 16th March—that was before I had Mr. Mason, the solicitor's, letter, threatening the prisoner—I advised that an agreement with the wife should be prepared, and this agreement was done at my lawstationer's by my instructions on a stamp—it was to be sent on on May 2nd, and on

3rd May I sent it to my client for execution—it came back in August with this pencil writing "Blanchard" on it, I believe, and this erasure of the wife's name—I cannot identify the writing as that of any one in my establishment—I also prepared Ravenstein's guarantee—it is stamped 9th December, and it was engrossed on 21st December—this was stamped on 8th September, it was sent away to be engrossed on 18th December—it came back engrossed on the same day, and was sent to the Loog Company—I had nothing to do with settling these bailee agreements—as far as I know there are no statements of accounts or any forms of documents making a charge against the prisoner as a customer for any machines of any kind—they are all the other way.

Cross-examined. I doubt whether the agreement with Mrs. Edwards on which the pencil writing is, came back into my possession before Dec.—it then came with instructions to prepare the agreement of 17th Jan., which is the counterpart of it, I think, except that the name in that is William Blanchard Edwards—in the first it is Emily Mary—I have no doubt that the word Blanchard in pencil is a direction to me—I was told so.

Re-examined. In April, 1881, the prisoner spoke to me about the prohibition covenant—I said that it was a mere fictitious prohibition, and when the second agreement was prepared the time had run out—I did not see him upon the matter of the agreement on 17th January to my recollection.

DANIEL HUNT (Detective Sergeant). On 20th January I went to the prisoner's office and told him that two gentlemen were waiting at my office—I took him there; Mr. Loog and Mr. Ravenstein were there—I said" Mr. Loog charges you with stealing three sewing machines; here are the return sheets upon which are given the numbers of them, they have been seen by the prosecutor pledged at a shop in Clerkenwell by you," and I drew his attention to the fact that they had been entered to other persons—the sheets were lying on my desk, and I read from them—this is one of them—I cannot tell that I read every word of it, but I called his attention to the number 25,574, a machine supplied to Henry Brock—he turned to Mr. Loog and said "You don't mean to charge me, I can explain everything?"—he said "No, the machines have been stolen, that cannot be explained"—he was then charged—I went to 112, Albany Road, Walworth, to see if I could find Mr. Brock, but there was no such person.

Cross-examined. The pawn tickets never came into my possession—I know nothing about these duplicates. (Referring to three machines pawned for 6l. in the name of James Edwards, 310, Walworth Road).

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-371
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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371. GEORGE LACY HILLYEE (27) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences from Joseph Latchmore and others.— Four Months' Hard Labour. And

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-372
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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372. FREDERICK BEVAN (27) to unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences from Walter Keast and others.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-373
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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373. GEORGE REED (34) , Unlawfully endeavouring to incite Thomas Roach and others to the commission of an abominable crime.


MR. FULTON Defended.

GUILTY. Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-374
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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374. BENJAMIN MORTLOCK (42) and BRIDGET MORTLOCK (37) , Feloniously having in their possession certain moulds impressed with the obverse and reverse sides of a shilling.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. ROBERTSON Defended. BENJAMIN MORTLOCK PLEADED GUILTY**.Ten Years' Penal Servitude . On behalf of the female prisoner a certificate of her marriage with the male prisoner was produced, and evidence showing their cohabitation for many years, given upon which she was Acquitted.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-375
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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375. FRANK MOORE (22) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. POLAND Prosecuted.

ELIZABETH MEAGOCK . I am the wife of Edward Meacock, of 6, Exchange Buildings, East Dulwich Road, confectioner—on Wednesday, 6th February, about 5.30 or 6, the prisoner came in for two penny cheesecakes; he took out a quantity of silver and threw a halfcrown towards me; I gave him 2s. 4d. change—as he was leaving I found it was bad—I ran round the counter, and he ran away; the butcher next door ran after him—on the Friday evening I went to the station, and picked him out of seven or eight others—I gave the coin to the constable.

HANNAH BYRNE . I am the wife of Thomas George Byrne; he keeps the Helen's Head Tavern, in Norfolk Street, Peckham—on Thursday, 9th February, between 4 and 5, the prisoner came for a glass of sixpenny ale; he gave me a halfcrown; I gave him 2s. 4d. change—he drank the ale and left—I put the halfcrown in the till, and afterwards in my watch pocket—I found it was bad about ten minutes after the prisoner left—I kept it by itself, and afterwards gave it to the constable—I saw the prisoner on the following Wednesday at Lambeth and recognised him. ALEXANDER AUGUSTUS ELPHINSTONE STONE. I live at 15, Cambridge Terrace, Peckham, and am in the Civil Service—on Thursday, 9th Feb., about a quarter to 5, the prisoner came for 3s. worth of penny stamps—he gave me a good shilling and a bad halfcrown—I told him I should detain him—the postmaster asked him where he got it—he said "I had it among other money for selling jewellery"—the postmaster asked where—he made no reply—a constable was called, I gave him the halfcrown, and the prisoner was given into custody—I afterwards tried the halfcrown with acid; it was bad—I believe the prisoner was there the week previous, when I served him with 3s. 6d. worth of penny stamps, and he gave me a halfcrown and a shilling—I put that money in the till—there was no other halfcrown there—about a quarter of an hour after he was gone I took it out and found it was bad—I had taken no other in the mean time—I gave it to the constable.

FBANK PULBBOOK (Policeman P 398). The prisoner was given into my custody on 9th February for uttering a bad halfcrown at the postoffice—I asked how he got it—he said he got it with other silver in hawking jewellery—I asked where—he said he did not know—I asked where he lived—he said" I have no home; I slept at a coffee-house last night"—I asked what he wanted the stamps for—he said for a friend he owed money to, C. Morris, 20, Market Street, Borough Road, and he lived there also—he was searched at the station, and 2s. in silver and 3 1/2 d. in bronze found on him, good money—I went to 20, Market

Street, and found it was a correct address—I afterwards received these two other halfcrowns from Mr. Stone; he said in the prisoner's presence that he believed he was the man who uttered the halfcrown in the week previous—the prisoner made no reply—the Helen's Head Tavern is about 230 yards from Victoria Road.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These three coins are bad, and from different moulds.

Witness for the Defence.

ELLEN WEBSTER . I am married—the prisoner is my brother—on 8th February he was at my house at 3 in the afternoon, and he left at 9 o'clock.

Cross-examined. I live at 3, William Street, New Road—my husband is a fireman—the prisoner lived in the Borough—I gave evidence before the Magistrate—the prisoner was in the habit of coming to see me—I had not seen him for some long time—I know it was on Wednesday, 8th February, that he came, because he stopped till my husband came home—I heard that he was in custody next morning.


He then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at this Court in September, 1859, of a like offence.— Two Years' Hard Labour.

27th February 1882
Reference Numbert18820227-376
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

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376. JOSEPH VALLER (18) was indicted for a like offence. MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. LILLEY Defended.

MARY ANN JOHNSON . I am the wife of John Johnson, a confectioner at Stock well Green—on Friday, 27th January, between 12 and 1, the prisoner came for a bottle of lemonade, price 2d.—he gave me a halfcrown; I gave him change—he drank the lemonade, and went out—I kept the halfcrown separate from other money till my husband came home in the evening, and then found it was bad—I afterwards gave it to a constable—I saw the prisoner again at Lambeth Police-court on the following Wednesday—there were seven or eight others in the room—I picked him out—to the fullest of my belief he is the man.

Cross-examined. He gave me the coin in a hurry, and went out in a hurry—he might be there a minute and half or two minutes—I had never seen him before—a policeman came and asked me about the case, and told me there was a young man in custody—he did not say what sort of man he was—I pointed him out at once, and said "That is the man. "

HENRY COLES . I am a baker, of 45, Ackerman Road, Brixton, about half a mile from Stock well Green—on Friday, 27th January, about 1.30, the prisoner came for two sponge cakes, and gave me a halfcrown—I tried it and found it bad—I said to the prisoner "I think it is a bad one;" he said" Oh, is it?"—he said he would give me two penny pieces; he did so—I kept the halfcrown, and took it to the front of the counter and said I should charge him—he ran out, I ran after him 200 or 300 yards; I caught him, and said "You must come back"—I took him back with assistance, and gave him into custody—this (produced) is the halfcrown.

Cross-examined. When I stopped him he said he had no idea it was bad—he had some other silver in his possession.

ALBERT PEDDER (Policeman W 409). The prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Coles