Old Bailey Proceedings.
24th November 1890
Reference Number: t18901124

ActionsCite this text | Print-friendly version | Report an error
Old Bailey Proceedings front matter.
24th November 1890
Reference Numberf18901124

Related Material


Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,










Law Booksellers and Publishers.



On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





(Including cases committed to this Court under Order in Council, pursuant to the Winter Assize Act of 1879),

Held on Monday, November 24th, 1890, and following days.

BEFORE the RIGHT HON. JOSEPH SAVORY, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Hon. Sir THOMAS DENMAN , one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir ARTHUR CHARLES , Knt.; Sir ANDREW LUSK , Bart., Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt., Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., Recorder of the said City; DAVID EVANS , Esq., STUART KNILL , Esq., JOSEPH RENALS, Esq., GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., and ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q. C., D. C. L., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.









A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an 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, November 24th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-1
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

1. CHARLES PRESSLAND was indicted for keeping a disorderly place.

MRSSRS. POLAND , Q. C., and BEVAN Prosecuted.

JOHN WILLIAM BORROWS . I live at Ivy Cottage, Mowlem Street, Bethnal Green—I am constable and beadle of that parish—I am well acquainted with Peel Grove Cemetery—in April, May, and June last year I watched that ground—a fair was going on there; there was a steam roundabout, swings, a rifle gallery, and a steam-organ playing like a brass-band, and a great number of people were there; some very bad characters—there was a lot of noise, rioting, and at times fighting—this went on from seven or eight in the evening till very late—I have seen the defendant there many times, and have spoken to him—I served him with a notice from Mr. Voss on 30th May—he told me he would clear off within a month; he said he had taken the place for four weeks of Mr. Hall, somewhere in the City, but he could not give his address—in June I saw the prisoner's name on the roundabout—I received constant com plaints of the nuisance from the people in the neighbourhood.

WILLIAM LAWSON (J 407). I was on special duty at this place from, 23rd to 28th June—during that time the steam-organ was played; it made a great noise—the place was frequented by girls and boys from the factories, and by large numbers of people—I saw the defendant there on 24th June; the steam roundabout was then being taken away with the name of Pressland on it, and in the evening another was erected—besides the steam-organ there was shooting gallery, swings, and so on—it was not a licensed place—it is surrounded by houses.

Three other witnesses deposed to the annoyance caused by the noise and nuisance of the proceedings.


To enter into his own recognisance in £10.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-2
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

2. ALBERT COX (25) , Feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement to a cheque for £28 7s. 6d., with intent to defraud.

MR. RICHARDS Prosecuted.

ALBERT FERRY . I live at 19, Harrow Terrace, Regents Park—on the-morning of 10th October I drew a cheque for £28 7s. 6d., and enclosed it in a letter addressed to Mr. George Hyde, North Street, Southport—I posted it myself, between half-past eight and nine, at the pillar-box in Sussex Place.

WILLIAM MORRIS OVINGTON . I am a letter carrier employed at the North-Western Post-office—at four minutes past ten on the morning of 10th October I collected the half-past nine delivery from Sussex Place-pillar-box, and took it to the North-Western District Office.

ALFRED JOHN WISEMAN . I am a postman in the employ of the Post Office—on 10th October I made the half-past ten collection from the Sussex Place pillar-box, and took it to the North-Western Office.

CHARLES CODDY . I am overseer at the North-Western District Office—letters collected at half-past nine or ten from Sussex Place pillar-box would be sent on to the chief office, and this letter would be delivered at Southport the same evening.

GEORGE HAYWARD HYDE . I carry on business at 129, North Street, Southport—Mr. Ferry is a client of mine—I have not received this-letter containing a cheque for £28 7s. 6d.—in consequence of not receiving—it I communicated with Mr. Ferry—the endorsement to the cheque is. not mine, and I never authorised anyone to sign it—I do not know the prisoner.

MARY LYDDIARD . I live in York Street, Marylebone—the prisoner lodged with me for some time—I first saw this cheque on Sunday, 12th or 13th October, the prisoner showed it to me, and asked if I knew where Mr. Goddard was; that he wanted to see him on business—on Monday he asked me if I could get the cheque changed for him—I said I could—he said a gentleman had given it to him—he did not say what gentleman—when he showed me the cheque it had no name on the back—I told him that Mr. Goddard could not change it without he endorsed it—I did not see him write his name on the back—he took it away, and returned in about ten minutes with the name on the back—I got £3 on it from Mr. Goddard, which I gave to the prisoner, and he gave me ten shillings—on 21st October I had the rest of the money from Mr. Goddard, and gave it to the prisoner.

MARY GODDARD . I am the wife of John Goddard, a carpenter, at 36, Catherine Street, Marylebone—on 13th October Lyddiard brought me this cheque—my husband gave her £3, and on the following Monday he gave her the rest.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Lyddiard told me that a gentleman had given her the cheque—she is an old lodger of mine, and owed me money.

JOHN GODDARD . I received this cheque from my wife—it was not

then endorsed—I afterwards got it back endorsed—I took it to Mr. Keen and got £3, and gave it to Lyddiard.

ERNEST ALFRED KEEN . I am clerk to Mr. Putney, a timber merchant, Harrow Road, Paddington—I cashed this cheque for Mr. Goddard, and gave the money to Miss Goddard.

EMILY GODDARD . I live with my father and mother—I received the notes and cash from Mr. Keen, and gave them to my mother on 20th October.

HENRY JOHN KEEN . I am manager to Mr. Hall, my uncle, a printer, at 64, South Molton Street—I received this cheque from my brother on 13th October, and on the 15th I paid it in to Mr. Hall's account—I gave my brother an open cheque for £28 7s. 6d. on the 25th, after I heard it had been cleared—Mr. Ferry afterwards called on me.

JOHN WESTON (Detective Sergeant D). I received this cheque from Mr. Ferry, and from information I went in search, of the prisoner, and on 'the 20th October I found him detained at Molyneux Street Station; Lyddiard was present—I said to him, "Where did you get this stolen cheque from that you gave to Mrs. Lyddiard to get cashed for you"—he said, "I know nothing about it; I never saw it until I saw it in your hands, "pointing to Lyddiard; on the way to the station he said, "Mrs. Lyddiard could not get the cheque cashed because it had not got a name at the "back; she brought it to me, and said, 'Why did not you tell me it wanted a name on the back?' and asked me to put one on; I refused to do so, and she went away."

Cross-examined. I have only traced one of the notes.

HENRY FABER . I live at 84, New Bond Street—I have known the prisoner for years—on Saturday, 11th October, between twelve and one, the prisoner brought me a cheque; I only saw the corner of it—he said would I lend him some money on it—I declined that—he did not say how he had got it.

WILLIAM COX . I am an upholsterer, of 99, Church Street, Edgware Road—the prisoner is my son—I saw this cheque, but only in this way (folded); I did not know the number, or the name of the drawer—my son showed it to me on Saturday, the 11th, between eight and nine in the evening; he said, "I have got the cheque now, if you can cash it, or let me have some money"—he had given me to understand two or three weeks before that he had a cheque coming from Brighton for £20 odd—he said it was too late to get it cashed at the bank—I did not cash it; I had not got the cash—he said he could gist it cashed by a friend in the Caledonian Road—I gave him a shilling to go there—I did not see him again till he was in custody.

ALBERT WALKER I sometimes live at 7, Gray Street, Marylebone—the prisoner showed me this cheque about six weeks ago—he said it was paid for work that he had done, that he had to take the cash for his wages out of it, and pass the balance to his employer—Maud Tennant was with me at the time; at that time there was no name at the back.

MAUD TENNANT . I live, at 64, Broadley Terrace—I was with Walker one Saturday afternoon in Old Cavendish Street, when the prisoner showed us a cheque; he asked me to go and cash it—I said, "Go and cash it yourself."

ELIZABETH ROBINSON . I am a dressmaker, of 24, Molyneux Street—I met the prisoner nine months ago—I did not see him again till 16th

September—on Friday evening, 10th October, I met him in Oxford Street; I was with Miss Bragg—he called me on one side and said he had a cheque, he showed it to me—I could not swear that this was the cheque—I did not have it in my hand; he said it was for £28 odd—I asked him how he came by it; he would not tell me, he said it was-nothing to do with me—I went with him to the Oxford Stores and had a drink—I asked him to show the cheque to Miss Bragg—I saw him again on Monday, the 13th—he then gave me 5s. to pay my rent and a sovereign to my friend to change—he said he was a billiard marker, and something to do with gambling or betting.

ELIZABETH BRAGG . I live at 29, Hereford Street—on Friday night, 10th October, I was with the last witness in Oxford Street—we went into a public-house with the prisoner—he took a cheque from his pocket; my friend showed it to me, it was for £28 7s. 6d.—I saw him again on the following Monday, and he gave me a sovereign to change at a public-house for some beer.

ANN FANCOURT . I am the wife of Charles Fancourt, of 62, York Street, Marylebone—Mrs. Lyddiard came to lodge there on 11th October; the prisoner came there on Sunday, the 12th—I saw him again on the Monday.

Cross-examined. I did not see you there every day; I know you were there a great deal.

Prisoners Defence. Not a penny-piece has been traced to me. I did not see a particle of the paper-money; all I saw was two sovereigns, and that we changed at a public-house opposite Lyddiard's place. I received 30s. of it; she said she would give Goddard a sovereign for his trouble.

GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on 7th August, 1883— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-3
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

3. HARRY GEORGE GOODMAN (29) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully falsifying the books of his employer; he received a good character— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-4
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > fine

Related Material

4. WILLIAM HERBERT TAYLOR , to un lawfully conspiring with Henry Newman, not in custody, to assault George William Savage.— fined 1s. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-5
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

5. JOHN LEOPOLD CHILDERS (22) , to stealing a letter containing two orders for the payment of 10s. and 4s. 6d.— Eighteen Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-6
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

(6) FREDERICK RICHARDS(29) , to two indictments for stealing two letters containing four orders for the payment of money.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

NEW COURT.—Monday, November 24th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-7
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

7. JOHN FORD (28) , Unlawfully having in his possession 32 pieces of counterfeit coin, with intent to utter them.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted,

CHARLES SMITH (H 155). On October 19th I was with Hawkyard in the Mile End Road; we were in plain clothes, and not on duty—the prisoner and another man passed us just by the Globe public-house, and the prisoner said, "Let us have a try over the way"—they went to the

New Globe—we stopped outside till they came out four or fire minutes afterwards, and then followed them to the Three Mackerels, and then to the Blind Beggar—they stopped against a crowd at Mile End Road for five or six minutes, and then went to Baker's Bow, and stood under a street lamp; as we passed them I saw them looking at some coins in his hand, which appeared to be florins or half-crowns—they then went to Whitechapel Infirmary, and stopped again and looked at some money—they then went through Webber Street to the Marquis of Cornwallis, and we followed into the next compartment—we followed them out; they crossed the road and returned into the Cornwallis—we went into the next compartment, waited till they came out, and followed them—they crossed the road and returned to the Cornwallis—I went and spoke to Hymarsh, and when I returned the prisoner was on the other side of the road, and I could not see the other man—I saw the prisoner pull some money out outside a fruit-shop—he came over to the same side as we were; I stopped him, and said, "What is that you have got about you showing to your companion on several occasions?"—he said, "I have got nothing; you have made a mistake"—the other constable said, "Turn up those coins you have got"—he said, "I have got no watch"—I said I should take him on suspicion of having counterfeit coin in his possession—he made no reply—I searched him and found these two florins loose in his waist coat pocket, and thirty more in his inside pocket, done up in this paper, three packets of ten each, 10s. 6d. in silver in his trousers pocket, and 11d. in bronze—after he was formally charged I asked him how he came by them—he said he picked them up against a crowd of people in Mile End Road—I saw him by the crowd; he did not pick up anything; he never stooped, nor did the other man.

ALBERT HAWKYARD (H 354). I was with Smith, and followed the prisoner and the other man—"I saw the prisoner show the other man a coin three times, and on one of those occasions the other man crossed the street to the Cornwallis and pulled two coins out of his waistcoat pocket, which he tried with his teeth and put back in his pocket—I pretended to be drunk, and a postman helped me along.

HENRY HYMARSH (N 211). On 25th October I went to 131, Canal Road, Mile End Road, and searched the front parlour, and in the first long drawer of a chest of drawers I found a tin box in which were two bad half-crowns and seven bad florins, the paper was placed between each coin.

By the COURT. He gave an address, and I had some difficulty in finding it—I saw Mrs. Osborne, and searched with her permission—the whole of the coins were bent.

ANNIE OSBORNE . I am the wife of Stephen Osborne, a confectioner, of 131, Canal Road, Mile End—the prisoner is my brother—he has occupied our front parlour for a month or five weeks, and slept on a sofa—he had the use of the top long. drawer—this tin box belongs to my husband—the prisoner asked me to lend it to him, and I did so—I pointed out the room to Hymarsh, and gave him leave to search there—I was present when he found the box.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—these florins are counterfeit, and of various dates and moulds—the seven florins found at the prisoner's lodgings are counterfeit, and three of them are from the same mould as some of the 32—these two half-crowns are

counterfeit—the coins are wrapped up in half loads—a load is 20—they are generally rubbed with lampblack to give them tone—a good many of them are bent.

The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that on coming out from penal servitude he met five men, who gave him a packet containing money; that he opened it on an omnibus, and finding it was counterfeit money; showed at to a man who owed him 10s., who gave information against him to avoid having to pay the debt; that the police followed him for four hours, but never saw him attempt to pass any of the money; that he had destroyed nine pieces with pincers, and was on his way to throw the whole into the canal, except some which he left in the box by accident, when he was arrested.


He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on September 22nd, 1885.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 25th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-8
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

8. FERDINAND NOESER (43) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining £8 of Fritz Meyer, by false pretences.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-9
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

(9.) ALFRED NAMSBY (19) , to two indictments for feloniously uttering forged orders for the delivery of goods, with intent to defraud.— Eleven Days' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-10
VerdictMiscellaneous > no agreement

Related Material

10. THOMAS CHEETHAM, Unlawfully obtaining £2 16s. 9d,£4 7s. 6d., and £3 19s. by false pretences.

MR. BROMBY Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.

The JURY being unable to agree, they were discharged without returning any verdict.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-11
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

11. FREDERICK MARTIN, Stealing a bill of exchange for £75, the property of Paul Cramer; other Counts, for stealing a paper writing, and for stealing £70.

MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MRSSRS. GEOGHEGAN and ROOTH Defended.

WILLIAM OTTO . I am manager for Mr. Cramer, a merchant, at 1, Circus Place, Finsbury—on 1st October I wanted, as his manager, to discount this bill—I had a conversation with Mr. Engleheart about it; he introduced me to the prisoner to discount it—Engleheart said, "You can trust him, he is like my brother; I have known him long years"—the prisoner did not hear that—afterwards the prisoner said, "I have a friend in the West-end who discounts bills for 1s. in the £1, and when you will give me £5 I will give it to him for discounting it; then you will have £5 5s. for me"—it was a bill for £75—the prisoner would have the difference between 5 percent, and £5 as commission—in the evening the prisoner came to the office; I had closed, and was outside to go away; he said he came to fetch the bill—I said, "Why not come to morrow?"—he said. "I won't have it to-morrow; you will have the money at once, and I must give it to my friend to discount to-morrow"—we returned to the office—he said, I must have the bill at once"—he came into the office, and I gave him instructions in writing that he had no right to sell the bill under £5, including 5s. commission, and

that he had to give me the money for the bill the next day or the bill back, and I wrote that in English—he gave me a receipt that he would give me back next day the bill or the money—then he went away with the bill) after making an appointment for next day at my office at half-past two for him to bring the money or bill back—before half-past two I was passing Leadenhall Street, and I looked in a public-house in Great St. Helen's and found the prisoner there—I said, "How stands the matter?"—he said, "I have seen my friend to-day; he is making inquiries; you cannot have the money to-day"—I said, "You must give me back the bill now"—he said, "I cannot; I have given it to my man to make inquiries"—I got neither money nor bill next day—he said, "You will be sure it win be done; I will come and see you to-morrow at half-past two, and you will have some money"—that would be on 3rd October—I did not see him then; he did not come—on 4th October I found this pencil note in my letter-box, dated 4.10.90, "I can only get answer by one o'clock to-morrow," that would be Monday, "shall see you half-past one—MARTIN"—I think that was put in the letter box on Friday after the office was closed—at half-past two when I came into the office on the day I got this note, Mr. Habish gave me a telegram, in consequence of which I went to the Strand, and after going up and down for half an hour I saw the prisoner come from a restaurant—I said, "Look here, how stands it with my money?"—he said, "Well, I have some money; will you have £40; you can have a cheque"—I was so astonished I was unable to answer him—he said, "Be quiet; I have only five minutes, if you don't take it you have nothing; I nave the bill in my pocket; it belongs to me"—he wanted to go away—I gave him into custody, and he was taken to the Bow Street Station—from there we went to Manor Lane—he said to the Inspector there, "I have some money this man says I have stolen from him, but I cannot give it to him; I have put it in my bank to save it for him; I will give him a cheque for the amount; he can go and fetch some money"—the Inspector said, "No, when you are early at the bank on Monday morning you can have your money"—the prisoner wrote out a cheque, but when I came to the bank on Monday morning I got nothing; I was told, "The cheque is stopped by Mr. Martin"—this letter, dated 4th October, was shown me at the bank—it is addressed to the manager of the Charing Gross Bank, and is "Please stop payment of my cheque, drawn in favour of 0. Cramer, for £70"—I got no money—afterwards I tried to find the prisoner—Mr. Engleheart came to offer me a part of the money—I gave information to the police—they got a warrant—I found the prisoner in Bishopsgate Street when I was with a detective; that was the first time I had seen him after 4th October.

Cross-examined. I am manager of Cramer and Co.—I have authority to endorse in the firm's name, and also for Mr. Cramer's private account—I am not Cramer; he is here—he is a merchant; he works in patents and poultry farming, incubators for hatching fowls—this signature, C. Cramer, is in my writing; it is not pp.—it is a trade bill for value received; it is private business between Hollis and Cramer—the value received is a mortgage on a freehold in Germany—Mr. Hollis is an oil merchant in London—Mr. Cramer has no banking account, nor have I at present—I have been in England nearly ten years—I have known Cramer twenty months—I have known him for that time—he is my

master, and pays me a salary—he was never my servant, or in my employment—i have not carried on business as Waroff; I have power of attorney from Waroff—I am not Cramer and Co.—Cramer was in England when this bill was drawn—the bill was signed the day after Cramer left England for the Continent, otherwise he would have signed it himself—in words he gave me power of attorney—the bill is endorsed, by Cramer and by the prisoner—the prisoner is not liable on the bill as an endorsee—I am an uncertificated bankrupt—it is for a stolen bill—the Prisoner endorsed the bill, and the bank gave him a cheque for Mr. Cramer, and he was willing to steal the money—he said, "I won't take that cheque, I must have a cheque on me, and I will endorse it";. that is a swindle—the prisoner was introduced to me by Engleheart; I only know him by sight before—when he met me outside the restaurant he said, "You can have £40; I will give you £40; I have not yet the £70, but you can have the £40"—he said, "You can have the £40 and a cheque for the remainder in two or three days."

Re-examined. He offered me a cheque for £40, but if I had taken it I should have got nothing—I was astonished with his impudence.

EDWARD CADDETT . I am sub-manager of the London and Southern Counties Investment Company, at 379, Strand—I knew the prisoner slightly before the transaction with regard to this bill—he brought this-bill for £75 at three months to our office for discount, on the 1st or 2nd October, I think—he said he was the holder, and would endorse it—we made the usual inquiries, and on 3rd October, about 4 p. m., handed him this cheque for the bill—I first proposed to put the name of Cramer and Co. on the cheque as payee—the prisoner requested me to-draw the cheque in his favour, as he was holder of the bill and would endorse it—I handed him the cheque for £67 10s. after deducting the discount—I saw him next the following day, 4th October—I cannot say for certain if I had seen Mr. Otto before that—he informed me he had sent a cheque to Mr. Otto for £40,1 believe, and that he was going to send the balance on Monday—I believe I had seen Mr. Otto before—I believe he asked for 10s. commission for introducing the business—I told him that either as soon as the bill was met, or as soon as I heard from Mr. Cramer, I would give him commission—I think he had told me before that he had sent a cheque for £40 to Otto, and was going to send the balance on Monday—Mr. Otto did not come to me about discounting the bill.

Cross-examined. Before I discount a bill I have an application form with the names of the applicant, the holder, and the parties to the bill filled up.

Re-examined. I made inquiries about the acceptors and drawers and the endorsees—we made no inquiries about Cramers.

THOMAS ATTEBROOK . I am a clerk in the Chancery Lane branch of the London Joint Stock Bank—on 4th October this cheque was cashed at the bank in six £10 notes, dated 5th April, 1890, and numbered 65,90& to 65,913, and £7 10s. in gold.

ALFRED JAMES NOTTINGHAM . I am assistant cashier at the Charing Cross Bank—on 4th October the prisoner, whom I did not know before, came to open an account—he paid in £75 3s. by six £10 notes dated 5th April, 1890; and numbered 65,908 to 65,913, and a cheque for £15 3s., which was afterwards returned dishonoured—the prisoner was not intro

duced to us, he gave me as a reference the name of Russell and Go., Broad Street—the name on the dishonoured cheque was Russell and Co.,. Broad Street—this is a copy of the prisoner's account at our bank—he has a balance now of 15s. 4d.—on 7th October he had £14 5s. 4d.; he has drawn out £19 10s. since—he has paid in nothing except what he paid in on 4th October—a cheque he drew on the account on 7th October for £24 10s. 6d. is payable to Engleheart—on Monday morning) 6th October, Otto came to our bank a few minutes before the bank opened, and he-presented this cheque for £70 for payment—it was returned to him marked "Payment stopped"—in the meantime we had received, on 6th October, a letter from the prisoner which induced us to stop payment of the cheque; but in any case we could not have met all the cheque-because the £15 3s. was not cleared.

Cross-examined. The £15 3s. cheque was marked "Payment stopped"—we received a letter from Messrs. Meyers and Co., of Gresham Buildings, on 11th October, stating an injunction had been got against us not to part with the money—after that letter no money was paid into his account.

GEORGE GOULDRY (City Sergeant). On 4th October I was at Moor Lane-Police Station, when the prisoner was brought in, and charged with stealing a bill of exchange for £25—he produced a bank book and a cheque book, and said they were the proceeds of the bill of exchange which he had paid into the bank—the £73 was entered in the pass-book as paid in that day, 4th October—he gave no reason why he had paid it in—I asked him how it was he had not paid the money to Mr. Otto, and he said, as far as I can remember, that he thought the best way would be-to pay it into the bank, and that he was going to pay Mr. Otto £40, or—he had offered him £40, and he would pay him the balance in the course—of a few days—it was suggested, as the bank was closed, as it was Saturday, he should give Otto a cheque for £70 on the Charing Cross-Bank, represented in this pass-book, and the prisoner consented to do so—the cheque was made out at the station and given to Otto, and then the prisoner was allowed to go—this is the cheque; it was made out for £75 first—I think Mr. Otto said, "It is very little good; he may stop that in the morning"—I don't exactly remember what the prisoner said to that—I cannot say that he said anything—he would hear everything; he was there.

FREDERICK BARTON (Detective Sergeant E). On 10th October received a warrant, and on 11th October, at nearly two o'clock, I arrested the prisoner—I read the warrant, which was for converting to his own use a bill of exchange for £75, with which he was entrusted as agent—he made no reply—at Bow Street he was charged, and made no-reply.

EDWARD CADDETT (Re-examined by the JURY). I think very likely we-should have paid the bill if the prisoner's endorsement had not been on it—we did not think his endorsement worth anything when we handed him the money for the bill.

GUILTY Seven Days' Imprisonment ,

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 25th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-12
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

12. WILLIAM ROBERT PITT (32) , Unlawfully uttering counter feit coin.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

HENRY WILLIAM HARVEY . I am in partnership with my brother-in-law, and keep the Hop Pole public-house, Wardour Street—on November 15th, shortly after midnight, the prisoner came in for two-pennyworth of Irish cold, and tendered a bad florin—I said, "It is a wrong one"—he made no reply—I asked him where he got it—he made no answer—I passed the coin to my brother, and then he put a good half-crown down in the place of the bad florin—my brother came up, and asked him where he got the florin—he made no answer—I gave him in charge, and he said he lived in Wardour Street, but afterwards said in Euston Square—I gave the florin to the constable—this is it.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I threw the florin to my brother, and said, "Here, catch this"—it fell on the floor, and went right into the parlour—I saw him pick it up—the constable said, "Where do you' live?" not "Where have you been?"—you said, "Wardour Street," 109, I think—the constable said, "Go and see if he lives there," and then you said, "It is no b——use your going there, I don't live there at all."

JOHN MARTIN . I keep the Hop Pole, in conjunction with the last witness—on this night he called out to me, "Jack, here is a wrong one coming, "and threw a florin to me—it fell on the floor—I picked it up, bent it, and asked the prisoner where he got it—he said he did not know, pulled a paper out of his pocket, and said he was a pensioned soldier—I called a policeman, who asked the prisoner where he lived—he said "109, Wardour Street"—one constable suggested to the other to go and inquire there—the prisoner then said, "It is no b——use your going there; I don't live there at all, "and gave another address in Euston Square—I asked him where he got it, and he said, "I do not know, but I am a respectable hard-working man"—I said, "You will have to prove it then"—he threw down a good half-crown, but I would not give him the change till a policeman came; I then gave him two single shillings and fourpence.

Cross-examined. You told me you did not know the florin was bad, and gave me a half-crown—you said, "If you doubt my word send for a constable," but I had already sent for one, and you heard me—I said, "I have already done so."

JAMES FROUDE (C 188). I was called and found the prisoner detained in the bar; Mr. Martin charged him with uttering this bad florin, which he handed to me—I said to the prisoner, "Where did you get it?"—he said, "I do not know; I did not know it was a bad one"—Mr. Martin said, "If you can prove you are a respectable man I will not lock you up"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "163, Wardour Street"—I said to the constable, "Go and see if that address is correct"—the prisoner said, "Oh, I don't live there; I live at 69, Euston Square"—Martin said, "I will charge him"—I searched him and found a half-crown, 3 florins, 9 shillings, 3 sixpences, and 1s. 4 1/2 d. in bronze—I took him to the station—when he was charged he said, "When I gave it to

him I knew nothing about it; I had not the slightest idea it was bad"—he said his name was William Pitt, that was the name I was to inquire for in Wardour Street.

Cross-examined. The address you gave in Euston Square was rather difficult to find; I could only find thirty-two houses, and this was No. 69; it was correct, as I found two more houses in a corner—it is a lodging-house—I did not ask you where you had been, but where you lived.

ROBERT ROBINSON . I keep the Crown and Apple Tree, Berwick Street, St. James's—about five or six weeks ago the prisoner came in about mid night, called for two of Irish, and offered a bad shilling; my son brought it to me, I bent it by pressing it on the counter with my fingers, and gave it back to my son, who gave it to him, and he pulled out a handful of silver and copper—my son said, "You have got coppers there, give me copper, "and he gave him twopence—I picked the prisoner out five or six weeks afterwards at the station from among about ten others—he is the same man—I had not seen him in the house before.

Cross-examined. I expressed no doubts as to your being the man—the Magistrate did not ask me about ten times before I said you were the man—I had a good look at you when you offered the shilling, because. bad money was going about the neighbourhood.

CLEMENT EDWARD STREDWICK . I was in charge of this case for the Mint authorities before Mr. Newton—it is not true that the last witness had to be pressed by Mr. Newton—Mr. Newton asked him once, and he-said he had no doubt the prisoner was the man; he also said so in answer to a question put by me.

ARTHUR BERRY . I keep the Blenheim Arms, Ranelagh Street, Great Marlborough Street—the prisoner is in the habit of using my house, and I know him well—a few weeks before I was before the Magistrate he called for some drink and paid me with good money—half an hour afterwards he called for more beer, and put down a bad florin—I said, "Do you know this is a bad two shilling-piece?"—he said, "No"—I said, "I think you will find it is if you look at it"—it had a greasy feel; I put it between my teeth, and it felt gritty—the prisoner men bent it with his teeth, and paid me with a good shilling, keeping the bent coin—he left soon afterwards, and I have not seen him since to my knowledge—I have no doubt he is the man; I picked him out from several others.

Cross-examined. My cousin Maloney was there—he offered to bet that it was a good one—I saw you bend it with your teeth.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this florin is counterfeit—a shilling is bad if you can bend it on a counter with your finger and thumb; no ordinary person could bend one in that way—a shilling which is greasy and gritty to the fingers and teeth is bad.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I utterly deny being in Mr. Robinson's house. With regard to the other two cases, if the coins were bad, it was not to my knowledge. I have hitherto borne a good character, and have been a pensioner from the army. "

He repeated the same statements in his Defence. GUILTY .— Four Days' Imprisonment.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-13
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

13. JOHN BRYAN (22) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

JESSIE WESTON . I am barmaid at the Manchester Arms, Baker Street—on 6th November, about 8.30 p. m., the prisoner came in with another man, and called for two of whisky and a small Burton, and gave me this bad five-shilling piece—I showed it to the landlord, and they both went out without the change, leaving the drink—a few days after wards I picked the prisoner out from eight or twelve others at the Station.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw your description before I went to recognise you—I swear to your face, not to your clothes—you were not wearing a white coat.

AMY JARVIS . My father keeps the Duke of Cumberland, Great Cumberland Place—on 8th November, about 7.45, the prisoner called for a email soda, and gave me this bad florin—I showed it to the barman, and the prisoner ran out—the potman ran after him, and two policemen brought him back—he said he ran out because he heard me say it was bad.

CHARLES DAY . I am potman at the Duke of Cumberland—I saw the prisoner running away—I ran out and saw him stopped by a policeman, and brought back to the house.

STEPHEN SMITH (D 266). I was on duty near the Marble Arch, heard cries of "Stop him," and saw the prisoner running across the top of Oxford Street and Park Lane; I ran and took him—Day said that he had been passing counterfeit coin; he said nothing—when we got to the house I said to the barmaid, "Is this the man?" she said, "Yes," he said, "Yes, I nut it down"—I searched him and found a florin and one penny—he said, "I am innocent, I must have taken it somewhere. "

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This crown and florin are bad.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "lam innocent. I can prove where I was on that day. At four o'clock I went to my aunt's, 5, Nottingham Court; I waited there two hours, and then went to the kitchen at Castle Street Chambers and stopped there till eleven. "

Prisoner's Defence. The florin must have been given to me, I walked out on hearing the barmaid say it was bad.

GUILTY .— Eight Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-14
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

14. JOHN THOMPSON (32) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.

ANNIE CULLY . I am manageress at the Prince Albert Hotel, Notting Hill—on 14th November, about 3.30 p.m., the prisoner asked for half a pint of ale and put a bad florin into my hand; I gave it to the manager, who said it was bad: the prisoner said he did not know it, and put two pence on the counter—I said that a constable would be sent for, and the prisoner went towards the door, but was stopped.

Cross-examined. I did not give the florin to the boy first; I gave it to the manager.

THOMAS JAMES ATTREE . I am manager at the Prince Albert—on 14th November the last witness showed me a coin; I broke it, and threw the pieces on the counter in front of the prisoner, saying, "This is a bad one"—he said that he did not know it, and offered me twopence, which I did not take, but sent for a policeman—the prisoner said he would not wait, and again offered to pay me, and was making slowly for the

door—I stood at the door; he said, "Do you detain me?"—I said, "Yes," and gave him in charge—he said, "Oh, I live miles away"—at the station he gave his address, Peter Street, Westminster, and said he was a kitchen porter, and left three weeks ago.

THOMAS POTTER . I was called to the Prince Albert, and Mr. Attree, who stood just inside the door, charged the prisoner, who was standing in the centre of the bar, with uttering a counterfeit florin—he said, "I must have got it somewhere; I did not know it was bad"—the manager gave me one of the pieces and the prisoner the other—I asked the prisoner where he lived; he said, "Miles away"—I said, "That is no answer at all"—I searched him at the station, and found a half-crown, a florin, tenpence, and Ave half-pence—he gave his address, 12, Peter Street, Westminster; I went there, and found it was a timber yard—he said he must have got the florin at Earl's Court, where he changed a half-sovereign yesterday, and that he had worked at the Criterion as kitchen porter up to three weeks ago.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These are two pieces of a counterfeit florin.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he did not know the coin was bad, and gave the first coin that came to hand.

GUILTY Six Month's Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-15
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

15. FRANCIS EDWARD TUCKER , unlawfully publishing a defamatory libel on Frederick Henry Horscroft.

MR. GILL offered no evidence NOT GUILTY .

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-16
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

16. HENRY DOMAN (25) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a cheque for £6; also to forging and uttering an order for £2; also to stealing orders for £6 10s. and £6 2s.; also to forging and uttering the endorsements to orders for £13 6s. 8d. and £5, with intent to defraud— Nine Months' Hard Labour. And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-17
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceNo Punishment > sentence respited

Related Material

(17) JAMES CORLEY (45) , to embezzling orders for £80, £154 17s. 2d., and £34 2s., of Alfred Steddall, his master— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-18
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

18. CHARLES MARCHANT (37) , Robbery with violence on Thomas Griffiths, and stealing a watch, a tobacco box, and three shillings, his property.

MR. KIDD Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.

THOMAS GRIFFITHS . I am a painter, of 49, Lawley Street—on 24th December, at ten o'clock, I was going home, and met the prisoner, who I knew, outside the Britannia public-house at the corner of Salmon Lane, Commercial Road—he asked me for a drink—I said, "If you come down Three Colt Street, I don't mind paying for a pot of ale for you"; and I did so at Trewitt's public-house—I drank some of it and was going out—he said, "Don't go yet," and sot hold of me by the sleeve of my coat and pulled me back—I said, "Let me go, I am going home," and pulled myself away—when I got into the street one of his confederates spoke to me for a minute or so, and the prisoner, who came up behind me, Dinned me by my elbows—I said, "Marchant, I will have you for this, if you don't let me go"—he never spoke, but held me tight—there was another man in front of me—my coat was buttoned; three buttons were torn, my

watch and chain and locket were torn off, and 3s. 6d. and a tobacco box were taken out of my right-hand pocket—after that the prisoner pulled me back, and I was knocked down—the prisoner then let go of me, and kicked me with the toe of his boot on the side of my head—the prisoner ran away, and I did not see him again for nine months—my watch and chain were worth 30s

Cross-examined. This was Christmas Eve; I had received seven shillings that night, and had several drinks; it was small in quantity, but it was bad liquor—I began drinking about seven o'clock, and after that a friend, named Peter, took me home to supper, and gave me some Irish whisky—I left his house at ten o'clock—I have worked with the prisoner, and stood him a drink—I was only ten minutes or a quarter of an hour in his company—two other men, who I do not know, were with him—there were both men and women in the bar—I paid for a pot of ale—he tried to kick up a row with me, and I buttoned up my coat—I said nothing to the prisoner about two men watching me—when I met the prisoner two other men were with him, but I do not know them—the other man took my watch and chain—I did not say at the Police-court that I called out the prisoner's name; my story is improved to-day with the truth—I was the worse for liquor.

Re-examined. I was not intoxicated—when the prisoner pulled me by my coat sleeve I saw him coming out, and I was seized in a moment, and said, "Marchant, let me go; I will have you for this"—I met the prisoner first at ten o'clock, and the other men came with him afterwards.

CHARLES WRIGSBY ( SR 578). On 21st October I took the prisoner, and told him the charge, but not the exact date—he said he knew nothing about it—I said that it was at the end of December.

Cross-examined. I was not instructed at the time of the robbery—I have been looking for him for nine months, but heard that he was in Liverpool and Newcastle.

JAMES JOHN MCANDREW . At the end of last year I saw Griffiths; he was suffering from a superficial lacerated scalp wound on the side of his head; a fall, a boot, a stick, or any blunt instrument would produce it—he complained of his left side, and said he had been kicked; there was a slight discolouration.

Cross-examined. I saw him on the 27th or 28th.


OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-19
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Miscellaneous > sureties; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

19. ALEXANDER SHARP PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously sending a letter to Louisa Pounds, threatening to murder her.

Twelve Month's Hard Labour, and to enter into his own recognisances of £100 and find two sureties of £200 each to keep the peace.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-20
VerdictGuilty > manslaughter
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

20. HENRY THOMAS (35) was indicted for the wilful murder of Annie Smith.


THOMAS HOLLIS (Y 410) proved plan of the room at 10, Hertslet Road, Holloway.

FREDERICK ANTHONY "WOODRUFF . I am a house decorator—I lodge at 10, Hertslet Road, Holloway, on the second floor—the prisoner lived with Mrs. Smith in the same house on the ground floor—I have lived in the same house with them going on for three years and a half—I have gone into their back room, the kitchen—on 8th October I came home about 6.30, and on going in Mrs. Smith called out, "Is that you, Woodruff?"—I said, "Yes"—I went into the room, and she gave me twopence to get her a pint of beer; that was about 6.45—when I took the beer back Thomas was standing at the door—he asked me what I had got—I said, "Beer for Mrs. Smith"—he said, "Give it to me, and do not get her any more"—I left—Mrs. Smith was in the room when I gave the beer to the prisoner—I did not see her, because he was at the door, and the bed was behind the door—when she gave me the twopence she appeared sober, and spoke plain enough for me—when I returned the fire was all over—I do not think they were very happy, because I have seen her face very much bruised, and black eyes several times.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Smith was a very heavy, stout woman—she might be eighteen stone—Thomas was standing with the door in his hand, I did not see in the room—I did not hear him say she had too much to drink—he did not say why I was not to bring any more—when I first went there I did get her beer, and he said, "Do not ever get her any beer"—he did not say she drank too much—I think she was given to drink—he went out to work in the day when he had any—she would then be alone.

ELLEN BENNETT . I have been living with a man named Cook, and have gone by the name of Mrs. Cook—in October I was a lodger at 10, Hertslet Road—I had lived on the first floor front since 19th September last year—I have frequently seen the prisoner and Mrs. Smith, who lived on the ground floor—there has been scarcely a night without some quarrelling—I have seen marks on Mrs. Smith's face and head—her eyes have been black and cut, and her mouth cut—she has spoken to me from time to time about it—she once showed me a fender in the kitchen—it was broken in two—on the fender and on the floor were blood and hair—on one occasion Mrs. Smith called me down—the prisoner was there—she said, "Mrs. Cook, would you mind cooking Mr. Thomas a steak for him "?—the prisoner said to her, "I'll make you do it"—she said, "I'm too ill, Harry, I can't stand over a fire"—I said to her, "If it is your wish I should cook it for Mr. Smith I will do so"—I did it—I went upstairs—about three months before 8th October I heard the prisoner say, "I'll do for you, but in a manner that shall not be found out"—on 8th October I took dinner with Mrs. Smith about 1.30—she had had drink—a little before seven I was in my own room—I came in about 6 30—Miss Stewart was with me—I came "down in the garden about 6.50—on the first landing with Miss Stewart I heard Thomas say, "I want some b——money"—Mrs. Smith said, "Harry, I have none"—he said, "Where is the watch and chain?"—she said, "I have had to put it away"—he said, "Where is the money?"—she said, "I have paid it away for some taxes"—Miss Stewart and I went into the garden at the back to get some clothes in—I heard Mrs. Smith say, "Oh, Harry, don't!"—I went into the passage, and up to the parlour door—that was the room they occupied—the door was open—I looked from the wall through the crack of the door where the

hinges are—I saw the prisoner take Mrs. Smith by the hair of her head, and pull her to the floor—she was lying on the bed on the right side near the window—she fell on her head towards the window, and her feet towards the kitchen, towards the door—the room had a bow window—the head of the bed was to the window—the prisoner put his left foot on her chest so (describing)—he held the lamp in his hand—he took it from the table—he lifted it—the table was not far from the bed—it was a round table—he put the lamp on the table again—in another place—nearer the bed—right at the extreme edge of the table—he then took hold of the table, and her thumbs under the desk, and pulled the table over—he lifted the table—I saw the lamp go in the direction I had seen her fall—towards her stomach—I do not know whether the table went down or whether he put it back, it seemed to tip over where she was lying, on her stomach—I rushed to the front door, and said, "Oh, Annie, he has turned the lamp on her"—I went into the street—I called for assistance—two people came—I saw no uniform policeman—I went to the second house, and returned to the gate—I saw Mrs. Smith walking up the passage a mass of flames—she got on the doorstep, rolled over, and put her hand up—she fell in the pathway in front of the house—I could not have been more than two or three minutes away—when I got in the passage again I saw the prisoner standing against the parlour door, more inside than out—I had not seen the prisoner help her—then the doctor came.

Cross-examined. I occupy one room—Miss Stewart stayed with me a week when I first went to the house, she went there with me—she lived in her own room when Mr. Cook was there, not in mine—I saw the deceased in the hospital—Annie Stewart went with me—I told the Magistrate all I said to the deceased woman was, "Was she prepared to die?"—that was all I said to her—I could not see the prisoner's face through the crack of the door—his left side and back were toward me—his face was towards the window—his, left hand towards the bed—the prisoner put one hand on one side of the table and the other on the other—he had the lamp in his right hand—the foot of the bed was between me and the table—I could see his leg on her chest; one leg was higher than the other—I did not hear him say, "I have told you I should kill you"—this is not correct: "He took the lamp up, threw it at the woman, and hit her on her shoulder"—it is not true that two men burst the door open; no door was closed—I have interfered and taken the dead woman's part; I have gone into the room to them—I did not go in this time—Mrs. Smith said, "Unless I call don't come down; he might hit you; I would not like him to do that"—at the Police Court I gave the reason for not going in that I did not like to take the liberty—that is the correct reason—I have been living with a man and gone by his name—I believe his name is West: but I did not address him as West—the man I live with is Cook—I did not say I would expose West about some leather if he did not give me some money—West promised to keep the rent paid up, and he let it go back—I said I would go down to Cook's office, a railway company's office—it was not about leather—this is not true: "Annie Stewart said something about burning some leather belonging to the railway company, so that Mrs. Cook should not split on Mr. West, and Mrs. Cook said she would expose Mr. West if he did not give her some more money"—I have been going since June,

but no particular notice was given—it is not correct to say the deceased woman gave me notice—I had not paid my rent—I had not a notice to go because of that—I said I wished to leave if he did not keep up the rent—I paid it myself as long as I could—Cook left 10, Hertslet Road the Sunday before 8th October—before that time he stayed there; he had been away a fortnight or three weeks—I looked to him for a livelihood—I had no other—I did not know of an accident to deceased's arm from a tram about two months ago, nor that she got £6 compensation—I never heard it—I told the Magistrate I was locked out the night before this occurrence—Mrs. Smith and I were out together—it was 12.10—we sometimes came home sooner, sometimes later—we were locked out purposely—I spoke about it the same night—Mrs. Smith said, "Do not say anything to-night"—I asked why the door was fastened—the prisoner said he was going to have fresh rules—that was to Mrs. Smith—I wanted to know who was landlady, I did not pay rent to him.

Re-examined. Mrs. Smith was the person to whom I paid my rent, or to whom Cook or West paid it—I told Mrs. Smith I could not keep the room on if Cook did not keep the rent paid up—I went to Cook's office to see what he intended to do, because he made his home at No. 10—I do not remember going downstairs to interfere since three months ago—that was when the fender was broken—after that Mrs. Smith told me not to go down unless she called—she did not call.

ANNIE STEWART . I live in Inkle Street—in October I lived at 10, Hertslet Road—I last saw Mrs. Smith on 8th October about 1.30—we were having dinner together—she had been drinking—about 7 p. m. I came downstairs with Bennett—I' heard Thomas say to Mrs. Smith, "I want some money"—she said, "I have not any"—he said, "Then where is the watch and chain?"—she said, "I have had to put it away"—I went into the garden—then I heard a bumping sensation as if some thing was bumped on the floor—I followed Bennett to the house—she stood against the parlour door—I stood on the back-door step—she looked through the crack of the door, which was open—I heard Mrs. Smith call out, "Oh, Harry, don't"—Bennett said, "Oh, Annie, he has turned the lamp on to her," or something similar, and ran into the street—I went to the parlour door—as I passed I saw a flame—like a fire in the room—I went on to the doorstep—I turned round and saw Mrs. Smith fall on her knees at the parlour door in flames, next to the front door—I screamed "Fire!" and "Police!"—a lot of people came—I first saw the prisoner when the policeman came put of the parlour with him, and put a counterpane over, the deceased—up to that time the prisoner had not assisted her.

Cross-examined. The prisoner had a quilt in his hand when the constable was with him—I gave the deceased some brandy when she was lying on the doorstep—I got one of a crowd of boys to fetch it—that was just as the flames were going out, just as the policeman and Thomas came up with the counterpane—no one then had tried to put out the flame—her arms were still burning—from seeing the flames to giving the brandy was five or six minutes—she was in flames on the doorstep during that time, and a crowd round—she was taken to the Great Northern Hospital—when I was giving the brandy Bennett ran into the street—I visited deceased at the hospital on the Thursday afternoon with Bennett—I sat by her bed barely a quarter of an hour—Bennett

stood by and could hear any conversation; the first thing I said was "Oh, Mrs. Smith, I am so sorry it has happened"—Bennett said, "I saw him do it; I was looking through the crack of the door," because Mrs. Smith said, "Who has been up to the Court to-day?"—the conversation was about what had taken place the previous night—I am a dressmaker—I have been six months out of employment—I have been living with Mrs. Cook or Bennett since we have been away from 10, Hertslet Road except three days—we have often gone out together, and sometimes came home after twelve—we were locked out on the night of the 7th—Mrs. Smith let us in—Bennett and the prisoner had a row because of the time—he complained it was so late.

Re-examined. Mrs. Cook and I went to Smith's to live in September last year; the latter three or four months I was out of employment—I have done a little dressmaking for Mrs. Jones during the time—she lives in St. John's Road, Islington—I was paid for the work—I was staying at Mrs. Smith's till October 8th; since this occurrence I have been with Mrs. Cook except three days—I occupied the same room as Mrs. Cook—at the hospital Mrs. Bennett told me she was looking through the door and saw what occurred the night before—the deceased said, "I did not know anyone saw it."

"WILLIAM WELCH (Y 277). On 8th October, about ten minutes past seven, I was in plain clothes off duty in Seven Sisters Road—I heard cries of "Fire!" and "Police"—I ran at once to 10, Hertslet Road, and in the pathway outside the house I saw the body of a woman lying; she was in flames—there was a crowd of people outside, and one or two inside—nobody was doing anything to her—as I ran up I saw the prisoner come out of the house by the front door; he had a quilt in his hand; he came towards the deceased, and he and I with the quilt extinguished the flames—I saw Mrs. Bennett; she spoke to me outside the house after the flames had been put out—she said, "For God's sake don't let him go, for he threw a lamp at her"—on the prisoner hearing that he ran into the passage, and into the front room—I sent another constable for a doctor, and I ran into the front room where the prisoner was—the room was on fire—with assistance we put the fire out that was burning on the floor with some mats—the fire was between the bed and the table—after putting out the fire I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for throwing a lamp at the woman—he replied, "I did not do it; she fell on the table herself"—the bed was about eighteen or twenty inches from the table—the top of the table was standing on its head, burning at the bottom, facing the bed—it was supported by standing up against the pedestal of the table—this is the table (produced) (the wittiest here described the position in which he found the table)—this screw was in the table, but it did not fit it; it would not screw through—I took the prisoner into the back room; by that time Dr. Davison had arrived—he asked the deceased how it happened—she replied, "I do not wish to incriminate anyone"—after that I took the prisoner to the station, and then went back to Hertslet Road and took the deceased to the Great Northern Hospital—Mrs. Bennett was there when I got to the house.

Cross-examined. At that time the room was in a blaze—when I followed the prisoner in, he was trying to put the fire out; he did all he could to assist me all through; he did not attempt to get away—the table is a very heavy one; it takes a strain to pull it over; it could not be

done by putting your hand on it—when I saw the deceased lying outside, she was in flames; I saw Annie Stewart kneeling by her side—the flame was burning all around her breast and the lower part of the body.

By the JURY. The screw does not belong to the table; it would not fall out, but it would not hold—there is a catch to it, but it does not hold tight.

JAMES DAVISON . I am an M. D. and Fellow of the College of Surgeons of Edinburgh—I was called to see the deceased about half-past ten—I had known ware over twenty years—she was in a bedroom on the ground-floor—I examined her, and found her most severely burnt—the whole of the front part of the body from inside the neck, including the arms, was severely burnt; blistering was taking place, and the skin was off, and there was a very strong smell of paraffin—she was conscious—the prisoner was brought into the room, and I asked her how she came by this dread flaccidness—she said she did not wish to to say anything; it might incriminate anyone—I considered her life in danger, and ordered her immediate removal to the Great Northern Hospital—she was over fifteen stone in weight; I should think about seventeen—I had not attended her for the last twelve or fourteen years—her state was quite, hopeless from the burns.

SAMUEL CAMPION (Inspector Y). On 8th October, about ten minutes past seven, the prisoner was brought to Holloway Police-station—Ellen Bennett was there; from what she said, I charged the prisoner with causing bodily harm to Mrs. Smith—he commenced to speak, and I cautioned him—he then made a statement which I took down, read it over to him, and he signed it—this is it. (In this statement the prisoner alleged that the injury was caused by the deceased woman herself upsetting the lamp)—I searched him, and found on him two pawntickets, one relating to a gold watch, the other to a gold Albert chain, both pledged on that day—on that same evening I went to the hospital and saw the deceased—I said to her, "Will you tell me how it occurred?"—she said, "Accidentally, I believe"—I repeated the question, but received no further answer—I then went to 10, Hertslet Road and saw the table tilted over as described, and the broken lamp on the ground, between the bed and the table; the glass portion of the lamp was in broken pieces on the floor—I examined the bed; the mattress was wet, I think from urine, not from beer or oil—on 11th October I served the prisoner with a notice to the effect that the deposition of Ann Smith was going to be taken at the hospital—he afterwards attended there—Mr. Bros, the Magistrate, attended, and the deposition of Ann Smith was taken in the prisoner's presence, and she signed it. (This accused the prisoner of taking her by the hair and throwing the lamp at her, saying," I have told you I would Ml you" that the lamp broke and the flames went all over her)—I did not ask the prisoner to explain anything in that statement; he was sober, he made his statement as soon as he came into the station.

FREDERICK RICHARD HANNAH , M. D., 25, Drayton Park, Holloway. I have known the deceased, Ann Smith, about four years—I have been in the habit of professionally attending her for various complaints, occasionally for assault, and occasionally for the results of intemperance on her part—she has occasionally come to my surgery with black eyes, alleged to have been given her by the prisoner—I have been called in to see her when she was suffering from the effects of intemperance and for assaults—she

has had black eyes and bruises all over the body—she has made statements with regard to them—the last time I was called in was about three months prior to this tragedy; she then had a black eye—she had symptoms of fatty degeneration of the heart, diseased kidneys—the prisoner has occasion ally asked me what I thought of her, and I advised him to be very careful, that she had accused him of ill treatment; and I said that a woman with a weak heart like hers might go off at any time, and it might prove serious to her if he assaulted her—I told him that on two or three occasions; the last time was quite a year ago—I have been called to see her about four times within the last year.

Cross-examined. It was very often for intemperance—she was a very heavy drinker; her symptoms were those of a confirmed drunkard—the prisoner has fetched me several times to attend her; some time ago I was fetched to her on account of an accident on a tramway—she was very corpulent—a heavy woman drunk and tumbling about would account for some of the bruises.

GEORGE MORTON WILSON . I am resident surgeon at the Great Northern Hospital—on 8th October Annie Smith was brought there and placed under my care—she was suffering from burns in front of the body; she died from the effect of those burns about half-past four on the afternoon of the 11th—her deposition was taken about two on the same day.

GUILTY of Manslaughter Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-21
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

21. ROBERT ALFRED WRIGHT, FRANCES IRVING , and ALICE COADY PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a diamond cluster brooch, the goods of Henry Lewis and another. Wright also pleaded guilty to another indictment for stealing a double-row diamond horseshoe brooch, the roods of Henry Hoole. It was stated that Wright had been sentenced in America several times for theft. WRIGHT.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. IRVING and COADY— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-22
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

22. THOMAS BAILEY (38) , to stealing four coats and other articles, the goods of Frank Godfrey; also to stealing two rings and other goods, and 2s. 6d., the goods and money of Elizabeth James ; also** to a conviction of felony in November, 1884.— Twelve Months' Hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-23
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

23. WILLIAM HATFIELD (20) and JAMES QUINN , to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Miles, and stealing a pipe and other articles. Hatfield** also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in February, 1889, and Quinn to one in October, 1887. HATFIELD— Nine Months' Hard Labour. QUINN— Four Months' Bard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-24
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

24. JAMES WILLIAM SCARBOROUGH (40) , to unlawfully causing to be inserted in a registry of deaths a false entry of the death of Emily Scarborough; also to a conviction of felony at this Court, in 1881, in the name of Daniel SavageEighteen Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-25
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

25. NICHOLAS BAKER , to unlawfully obtaining money from Francis Bateman by false pretences, with intent to defraud. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] The prosecutor recommended the prisoner to mercy— Three Days' Imprisonment , And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-26
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

(26) FREDERICK RICHARD STONE (29) , to stealing a crescent brooch and six diamond stars and a diamond passion flower brooch, the goods of Henry Houle; also to a conviction of felony in January, 1884— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-27
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

27. JAMES WOODHOUSE (25) , Stealing a chain, the goods of John Jones, from his person.

MR. TICKELL Prosecuted,

JOHN JONES . I live at 58, Cheapside, and am an auctioneer—on Sunday, 19th October, about half-past nine, I was in Murray Street, Hoxton—the prisoner came in front of me, and said, "What is the time?"—I hesitated a moment, and he made a snatch at my chain and ran off; he did not get my watch, only my chain; the value of it is £7 10s—as he ran he dropped this hat—another man picked it up, and afterwards I got possession of it—I gave a description to the police the same night outside the Grecian Theatre—I saw the prisoner on the Tuesday morning at the police-station, Kingsland Road—I picked him out from a number of others, and charged him with robbing me—I don't know that he said anything—I am certain he is the man.

GEORGE LEECH . I took the prisoner into custody on Tuesday—he said, "I will go quietly"—I had received a description of him from the prosecutor—he was identified.

HENRY WHITWORTH . I know the prisoner; it was his custom to wear a hat like this—on Sunday, 19th October, about a quarter to nine, I saw the prisoner in Nile Street, Hoxton, coming in the direction of the East Road—Nile Street is about five minutes' walk from Murray Street—he was then wearing a hat similar to this.

Cross-examined. I said at the Police-court I had seen you wearing a hat similar to this one on several occasions—I did not say I saw you on Saturday night with a hat like this.

The prisoner, in his defence, said he had never been charged with such an offence before; that he had been in good employ, and where he had good opportunities of stealing if he had been so minded; but that the police had tried to mix him up in it.

WILLIAM TURRELL . I am a warder—the prisoner has before been convicted of larceny from the person—this is the certificate—it was on 29th November, 1884, at Clerkenwell; he had three months—in September, 1883, he had three months for stealing a watch, and he has been convicted at this Court for uttering—he has been thirteen times convicted—his last conviction was for assaulting the police this year—several of the convictions were for larceny from the person.

GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in October, 1884. There was another indictment against the prisoner for a similar offence. Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-28
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

28. GEORGE JACKSON (38) PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing a watch from the person of Conrad Bruning, having been convicted of felony on July 7, 1885.— Eighteen Months' Hard labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-29
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentencesImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

29. HENRY MEYER (27) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edward Burch, and stealing a pair of trousers and other articles, value £30, and 9s. in money; also to breaking and entering the said dwelling-house and stealing clothing, value £12, and 15s. 6d. in money— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-30
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

30. THOMAS JEFFREYS (27) , to feloniously marrying Eliza Whale, his wife being alive, he having been convicted at Clerkenwell on October 25th, 1886 —Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-31
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

31. GEORGE RODNEY** (27) , to stealing a gelding, a barrow, and harness, the goods of James Reynolds, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on 6th May. 1889,— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-32
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty

Related Material

(32) EDWARD HAZELL (21) , to stealing 10s., the property of Harry Pearson. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-33
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

33. EDWARD HAZELL was again indicted, with FREDERICK PALMER (26) and JAMES HOLMES (19), for conspiring with other persons to steal the moneys of Harry Pearson. Second Count, for obtaining money from Frederick Ockelford by false pretences. Hayle PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. BROMBY Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended.

FREDERICK OCKELFORD . I am servant to Mr. Ransom, of 391, Cambridge Road, Bethnal Green, a clothier—on November 1st, about 7 p. m., Hazell and Holmes came in; Hazell said, "I want a 6d. tie"; I showed him some; he chose a black one, and laid down a half-sovereign; I gave him 9s. 5 1/2 d. change, which he put in his pocket, and I put the half-sovereign in the till—he talked about different things, pulled some silver out of his pocket suddenly, a lot of sixpences, as far as I could make out, and said, "It is a pity I troubled you to change a half-sovereign when I had got silver; would you mind giving me the half-sovereign back, and I will give you silver?"—I gave him the half-sovereign back, and he gave me ten shillings in silver; he then got talking about different things, and confused me, and suddenly threw the half-sovereign among the silver, and said, "Give me a sovereign, and that will make it right—in the confusion I gave him a sovereign, forgetting that the. silver belonged to Mr. Ransom—when they had gone I looked at the till and found it was short; I could not say exactly how much, but about ten shillings—about a quarter of an hoar afterwards Palmer came in for a pair of socks, price 5Jd.; I served him; he laid down a half-sovereign, and I gave him 9s. 6d. change—he got talking about his wife and one or two other things, and then said, "I wanted that half-sovereign; do you mind giving it back to me, and I will give you silver?"—I did so, but he wanted a sovereign; I picked up my silver and his half-sovereign, and recouped myself, but gave him the half-sovereign back—I went after him, and found the three prisoners drinking together in a public house, and gave them in charge—they denied all knowledge of each other at the station, or of having been in my shop—Hazell and Holmes came in together, conversed together in the shop, and went out together.

Cross-examined. It was Saturday night, and I was very busy—I had just got rid of half-a-dozen people—they left just before the prisoner came in—I cannot swear I did not make a mistake with regard to them, but they came with paid off bills, and I think one bought a skirt for half-a-crown—the bills were in the till—I do not recollect any change being given—the people gave me the right money—I won't swear I made no mistake; it is a long time back—the public-house was a quarter of a mile from the shop—there were other people in the public-house,

but the three prisoners were together, two sitting on a form and one standing up, all talking together.

Re-examined. By paying off bills I mean that they pay off so much a week, and I am almost certain they brought the right money—no one came in between the two going and Palmer coming in—the public-house was the Salmon and Ball, at the corner of Bethnal Green Road—a con stable brought the tie to the station—this is it.

GEORGE DRURY (J R 28). On November 1, Ockelford spoke to me, and I went with him to the Salmon and Ball, and saw the three prisoners fitting and conversing together, and each had a pewter pot—I took them in custody with assistance—I said, M I shall take you in custody for stealing 10s. from the prosecutor's shop"—Hazell said, "I do not know his shop."

WILLIAM RIDLEY (J 150). On 1st November I went to the Salmon and Ball with Drury and Mr. Ockelford, and when the prisoners had been taken and searched I found this tie under the seat where they had been fitting.

HUGH MCGWIRE . I took Palmer and Holmes at the Salmon and Ball—I charged Palmer—he said, "I have done nothing; I don't know the other two prisoners"—he also said he had not been to the prosecutor's house, and Holmes said the same.

The Prisoner Hazell. I never saw this man (Holmes) in my life—I do not know his name—the man who was with me walked outside, and this man got charged for him.


HAZELL and HOLMES then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions; Hazell, at Bromley, in Kent, in December, 1889, and Holmes, at St. Mary, Newington, on June 9, 1890.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each. PALMER**— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-34
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

34. MOSES LABOVITZ (21) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Julius Green, and stealing 21 jackets, 2 pairs of shears, and other articles.

MR. BURNIE Prosecuted, and MR. LAWLESS Defended.

JULIUS GREEN . I am a tailor, of 25, Greenfield Street, Whitechapel—I sleep in the back room within reach of my workshop—on 9th November, At 10 p. m., I left the workshop safe, with the property in it, and at 7.45 next morning I went in and missed 21 jackets, 4 overcoats, and 2 pairs of shears—the window had been taken out and put on one side—I informed the police, and between nine and ten that morning I went to Arbour Square and recognised my property—this is it—it is worth £21.

Cross-examined. I speak Yiddish; I am a Polish Jew—I saw the prisoner at the station next morning, and asked him in my own language' where he lived—he said, "In Bell Lane."

ALBERT ISAACS (Police Sergeant H 24). On 4th November I was on duty with Batty, about 3.30 a. m., and met the prisoner with a barrow in the middle of the road, about a mile from the prosecutor's, and a man on the pavement parallel with him, or two or three yards ahead, who appeared to be speaking to him—we let them pass us, and then followed them—they both increased their pace—we were in uniform—the man on the pavement bolted and got away—I caught the prisoner in Smith Street, laid hold of him, and said, "What have you here?"—he said,

in broken English, "Some work which I am taking home"—I said, "What is it?"—he said, "Clothes"—I said, '4 Where are you going to take them?—he shrugged his shoulders and said he could not speak English—I said I should take him in custody, and directed the constable to take the barrow—he said, "A man saw me and said, 'Would you like to earn a shilling? I said, 'Yes'—he said, 'You must come and do what I tell you; follow me, I will tell you where to go'"—I showed Solomons the barrow, and he identified it; it contained 23 jackets and all the missing articles.

Cross-examined. The other man was ahead of the prisoner, and was. walking faster—the prisoner said he had only been in this country a short time, and refused to say where he slept the night before.

Re-examined. I asked him his address—he said, "Boll Lane, next to No. 16"—I made inquiries about him, but could not find out anything about him—I asked where he slept the night before; he said he had been walking that night—he said he was a rag sorter.

ALFRED BATTEN (H 248). I was in Jamaica Street, Stepney—Sergeant-Isaacs signalled to me—I saw the prisoner with a barrow, and followed him—he hurried, and another man, who was on the pavement, ran away—the sergeant stopped the prisoner in Smith Street—I have heard Isaacs' evidence and corroborate it—the prisoner spoke such English as I could understand.

ABRAHAM SOLOMONS . I live at 4, Charles Court, Greenfield Street, City, close to the prosecutor's house—I am a general dealer—I left a barrow chained up safe outside my premises on the night of 3rd November—I missed it on the 4th about 8.30 a. m., and found it at Arbour Square.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. (I am not guilty. I was going to work; a man asked me to earn a few pence, and I did so."

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY of Receiving. Six Months' Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-35
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

35. JOHN WILLIAMS and HENRY WARD were indicted for , and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the manslaughter of George Hudson.

MRSSRS. FORREST FULTON and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. BURNIR appeared for Williams, and MR. GEOOHEGAN for Ward.

Upon MR. MATHEWS'S opening, MR. JUSTICE DENMAN expressed a doubt whether there was sufficient evidence, and after hearing three witnesses, the JURY were of that opinion, and found the Prisoners.


24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-36
VerdictsNot Guilty > no evidence; Not Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

36. WILLIAM ELMES, Feloniously attempting to set fire to a building belonging to Charles Henry Rapkin.

MR. GEOGHEGAN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

There was another indictment for wilful damage, upon which also no evidence was offered.


24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-37
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

37. THOMAS BRADLEY was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the manslaughter of Rebecca Jenkins.

MR. HUGGINS Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL TAYLOR Defended.

AMY DAVIS . I live at 57, Flower and Dean Street—on 24th October, about half-past eight in the evening, I was going along the City Road and saw the prisoner lighting the lamp of the Windsor Castle public-house with a long stick—I saw the old lady, Rebecca Jenkins, standing outside—she said something to the prisoner, I could not say what, but he took the stick and hit her on the face with it; it hit her in the eye—I went on, and when I came back her eye was very much swollen, there was no blood—I spoke to her—the prisoner was not present.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was lighting the lamp; he lit it—I have not been in the Windsor Castle frequently—I have not been turned out by the prisoner—I did not hit him in the eye—I live opposite—I knew the deceased by standing outside the Windsor Castle; she was 65 years of age—I was not intimate with her—prisoner is not a regular lamp lighter, only working at the public-house.

HENRY HAYNES . I live at 7, Flower and Dean Street—the prisoner lived in the next room—on Friday morning, 24th October, near one in the morning, he was in his room—he would not let the deceased in—she knocked and shook the door, and asked for admittance—I said to him, "Let the old lady in"—he said, "No, she can go to her husband; I will not pay for her lodging or keep her any longer"—he then opened the door, and I heard a blow—it sounded like the blow of a hand, I did not see it—she said, "Oh, you brute" several times—it was only one blow—I did not hear the prisoner say anything after that.

Cross-examined. The door of the room opens outwards—if the door had struck her, she being very feeble on her feet, it would have knocked her down.

DAVID HUME , M. R. C. S., 39, Hanbury Street. On 28th October I was called to see the deceased—she was sitting in a chair insensible—after wards she was put to bed—I called again a few hours after, I then thought her a little better—she had a bruise on the forehead, and both her eyes were black—she died next morning—on post mortem I found the heart and kidneys diseased, and the other organs were not healthy—there were no marks of violence except on the face—the brain was congested, and there was an effusion of serum—she died of heart and kidney disease, accelerated by the shock—it was an old-standing heart disease—I had not seen her before.

Cross-examined. There were adhesions of long standing—the liver was very much enlarged and flabby—altogether she was in a very bad state of health—the black eye was a severe one—I do not think she would have died wholly from heart and kidney disease, it was not acute enough for that—the injury to the forehead might have been caused by violent contact with a door.

CATHERINE HARRINGTON . I am deputy of the lodging-house where the prisoner lived—the deceased lived there twelve months—during that time I did not see any marks of violence about her, but the prisoner very often attempted it in my presence—I saw her on 24th October, she had a black eye, and was ill—she seemed in good health up to that time.

Cross-examined. She did not leave the house after the 24th to my knowledge; she always seemed a nice quiet woman—I never saw her in drink—she only had her regular beer, half a pint morning and evening

—I did not know she was not married till she died—she looked near eighty, but was only sixty-five—she did not do any work.

STEPHEN LEACH (Policeman). I took the prisoner into custody on 31st August—he said, "I did not do it; I went home, and she nagged at mo, and on opening the door to let her in the door flew open, and she caught her face against it.

Witnesses for the Defence.

HENRY CRANE . I am proprietor of the Windsor Castle public-house—the prisoner has been in my employment as a waterman and lamp lighter and shoeblack—he has been attached to the house seven years, but during my occupancy three years—he is a very respectable old man, and very trustworthy—in October our lamp is lighted at six or half-past, not later—on 24th October I had been out in my trap with my man, and I returned as near as possible about six; the prisoner was in the act of lighting the lamp when I arrived—after lighting it I took the stick out of his hand and threw it behind the bar as usual, and told him to go and look after the trap—it is always kept there; he could not have it after that—I remember some time ago during the summer the witness Davis giving him a black eye while he was having a few words with the deceased.

Cross-examined. My man was with me on this occasion; he had a better opportunity of seeing what happened than I did; he is here—we have only one lamp outside, a large one; that is the one that requires the stick to light it; I keep the stick behind the bar to use as a spirit level—it is a bamboo cane.

HENRY PALMER . I am in Mr. Crane's employ—I was out with him on 24th October; we arrived home from twenty minutes to half-past six—the prisoner was in the act of lighting the lamp—Mr. Crane took the stick away from him, and took it behind the bar and told him to give me a hand with the trap.

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for years; I also knew the deceased—she was not at all an orderly person; she was a disgrace.


NEW COURT.—Thursday and Friday, November 27th and 28th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-38
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

38. GEORGE JOHNSON (70) and JOHN PHILLIPS (74) , Forging and uttering a warrant for the payment of £1,000, with intent to defraud.

MR. POLAND, Q. C., and MR. WOODFALL Prosecuted, and MR. BESLEY Defended.

EMILE BENS (Interpreted). I am a cashier to Messrs. De Sauvage and Co., of Liege—on 21st October a man presented this letter of credit—he signed a name on it, and I gave him £200—he had an American pass port, issued at New York—the police came, and he was taken in custody at once—I recognise this photograph (Of Daniel Hope) as his.

GODFRIED DONNAY (Interpreted). I am Assistant Registrar of the Tribunal of First Instance, Liege, and produce from that Court the letter of credit spoken to by the last witness, and also two others—two men, Daniel Hope and Charles Thorn, are awaiting their trial at Liege in connection with these letters of credit—these are their photographs.

JOSEPH TRAGHEIM . I came from the Baltic provinces—I live at 81, Greenfield Street, Commercial Road—I was formerly in business at Rotterdam, in the provision line—I am thirty years old—I was introduced to the prisoner Phillips at Rotterdam at the end of last year, and saw him three or four times—he said he would put it in my way to make-money by some Bank of England notes, which were to be made, and if I came over to London, I was to give him a call at 115, Hampton Road,. Forest Gate—he also mentioned some letters of credit—I came to London about 17th February, and called on Phillips at Hampton Road—he was, ill in bed—some dancing was going on, and I looked and saw the other prisoner there—that was the first time I had seen him—no arrangement was made at that time—I went to Havre in May and saw Phillips there; he spoke about the same thing, and said it would take some time to get them ready, and then he would give me the first chance to make money—I returned to London in August and saw Phillips at the corner of Liverpool Street and Bishopsgate Street—he said, "The letters of credit are going to be put in circulation before anything else is done," and told me he would give me a chance to put them in circulation, and I could select a place abroad where I wished to go to—I saw him from time to time, and occasionally Johnson was with him—at the end of August I communicated with the Governor of the Bank of England, and was referred to the solicitor, Mr. Freshfield, and then to the officer Child, and let him know what I was doing—about the middle of September Phillips gave a piece of gelatine, on which was a drawing of the perforations, and the figures "0" and "1," and a star—I went with him to the City Road, where he pointed out No. 138, Mr. Sergeant's shop—I went in and saw Mr. and Mrs. Sergeant, and showed them the gelatine—Phillips did not go in, he waited in a public-house in the neighbourhood—Mr. Sergeant asked me whether the stamp ought to be all in one or three separate ones—I said that I did not know, and went out and told Phillips I was in doubt about it—he gave me some money, and referred to a letter written by "George"—I did not know Johnson as George till some time after wards—I called about the 25th, and there were then three stamps which would perforate paper—I believe these (produced) are them—I tried them on this piece of paper, which I handed to Child—I went to Liver pool Street the next day by appointment, and saw the prisoners—I gave Phillips the three perforators and the gelatine pattern—they both, examined them minutely, and Child came in—George then put the per forators in his pocket, the paper crumbled up, and I threw it away—a? few days after that Phillips spoke to me about some types, which he wanted me to order; he said he had received a letter from George, and the gelatine should have been enclosed—I met George later in "the day; he said he had not got the gelatine, and I afterwards received it from Phillips—this is it with the tracing "B," and a lot of figures—I took it to Sergeant, and gave him the order—I had told Child what I was going to do—Sergeant executed the order, and it was delivered to me—I paid this bill for them, "11 type to order, 8s. "; it is-made out to Mr. Bolton, that is the name I assumed—I gave the type and the gelatine to Phillips, and a few days afterwards Johnson gave them back to me, and instructed me to take them back and get them filed to make them thin, as they were too thick and too far apart; I took.

them to Mr. Sergeant, got them altered, and fetched them the same evening and delivered them to Phillips or Johnson—Phillips gave me the order to get a little stamping machine altered; I got that done by a cousin of mine, Julius Hersh, and gave it to Phillips—some days after wards Phillips showed me a printed list like this No. 1, with the names of towns in Europe, but there is more printing here than there was on the other—he said that I was to select the place where I would go to with two letters of credit—we had a conversation about Russia and about Copenhagen—I showed it to Child—if I went by myself I was to get 50 cent, of the money I got, but if I went with anybody else I was only to receive one-third—on 14th or 15th October Phillips said that I was not to go alone; they preferred that I should go with a man named Dick who I had seen in the (prisoners' company—about October 16th I saw Phillips outside the Rail way Station, Forest Gate—he showed me a letter of credit, and said, "You can safely put it down, it is the opinion of an expert that it was one of the best that ever was made—I took it in my hand—it was like this, with the exception of the date and name, which are written in, and the signature—it had a list of correspondents attached to it—it was not delivered to me, only shown to me—it was arranged that I was to go the following evening, the 17th, with Dick to Brussels, the place I selected—I did not have the letter of credit before I started; Dick was to get the letters from somebody, I heard Phillips speaking about it—I went to Brussels with them, and on the Sunday I saw two other men there who I had seen with the prisoners, but I did not know their names; I recognise them in these photographs, but one is not a very good likeness; the one in the felt hat I have only seen once, but the other I have seen several times in both the prisoners' presence—those two men left Brussels—while I was there I found out from an English banking house the correspondents there of Drexel and Morgan at the Banque do Paris, and told them what I came over for—I knew from what the prisoners said that the two men had gone to Liege, and gave that information, but I did not telegraph there—I afterwards heard of the arrest of the two men at Liege, and wired to Child—the Banque de Paris gave me some money, and I returned to London and communicated with Child—I afterwards attended at the Mansion House; I was cautioned by the Alderman, and then gave evidence against the prisoners, and signed my statement—I was not cross-examined; there was an adjournment, after which I went to the Continent again—after the committal Child came over, and asked me to come across, and I returned on Monday evening—I only got from the prisoners what I had to pay for the things which I ordered and bought—Mr. Child gave me some money.

Cross-examined. The first communication I made was to the Bank of England; that was at the end of August, 1890—I did not keep a shop at Rotterdam; I was a provision merchant, having a warehouse there, in part of 1889 and part of 1890—I was in business at Manchester before that; I left there early in 1889; I was a merchant there—I began my career as a merchant when I came home from America—I was about twenty-two when I went to America—I came here from the Baltic provinces when I was about fourteen years old—I do not know that there are warrants out to take me in custody—I have never been accused of

fraudulent bankruptcy or cheating my creditors that I know of; I owed some money at Rotterdam—I was working for my brother in America—I did not know the name of Drexel, Morgan, and Co. when I was in New York—no accusation has ever been made against me except by a man I had in business with me in Manchester; he said that I embezzled money—I was acquitted on that charge—I was not his servant; he was supposed to be a partner—I was not tried; I was in custody—the sum was about £12—the man absconded to America—I was working in Manchester up to the time I went to Rotterdam—I met Phillips in Rotterdam in October or November last year—I was several times in his company before he proposed to me to circulate forged bank-notes—we were only once in a place of amusement—he came about four times to Rotterdam, but I saw him several times on each occasion—to the best of my belief it was before Christmas that he spoke to me about my circulating forged notes; I did not write to the Bank of England, because I thought I would see if it was all correct—I did not suggest that I often came to London—I did not ask for his address—I had a warehouse at Rotter dam eleven months; not a shop—it was in Berehaven Street—I lost some money in business, and lost some by another man, and I came over here in the middle of February—I had not much left—I then went to Manchester; but I went to Forest Gate first—before I was examined I was taken to Messrs. Freshfields with Mr. Child, and made my statement, and Home one took it down—I do not remember it being read over to me, or my signing it—there was no statement to anyone else, except at the Mansion House—I had a little money of my own to live upon from the end of August to October—I went' to Havre in March, and went into business—the Rotterdam business was given up—I had some money lent me—I was there till August, when I came over here—I went by no other name but Bolton till August, when I came over here—I have not gone by the name of Callaghan or Barford—I wrote to Phillips to come to Havre, and asked him how this affair was going on—I was ill at the time—I had then known for months that I was to circulate Bank of England notes—it was a job I did not like to do—when I had been examined before the Alderman I did not know I should be required again till the trial came on, and I am here—I went back to Havre, leaving my address in Manchester with Child—they did not know I was going to Havre—I was not exactly disgusted by the small amount of money I had been able to extract from them, but I was threatened by the presiding magistrate as if I was a criminal, and I thought it was no use my being bothered in the matter, I would go back and pursue my own business in the meantime—I did not resist coming here—I did not say anything about having had too little money, but I. do not think I was fairly treated, not about money, but I did not think it was fair to waste my time—I did not want to give any more evidence—I did not ask for any money—I was not promised any—I got none—I expected money for my time and the work I had done—I did not say to Mrs. Phillips, "I have been obliged to turn Queen's evidence, because the police watched me," nor that unless she gave me money I would come to the Mansion House again—I did not get a farthing from her or from any friend of hers, nor have I trafficked with her friends to get money from her—Mr. Idelsatch lent me £9; I owe him a lot of money, which he lent me to carry on my business, both before and after I gave

my evidence—he belongs to the same place as I do—I knew him before I knew Phillips—I said nothing before the Alderman about 50 per cent., or one-third, because the question was not asked me—I saw Johnson in Phillips' company lots of times—I have not said before to-day that Johnson put the perforators which I gave to Phillips in his pocket;. I was not asked the question—I have not said before to-day that I had to-go and consult Phillips; I was not asked—I do not think I have said before to-day that money was given me to pay a deposit—I never had one of the forged letters of credit.

Re-examined. The Magistrate at Manchester dismissed the charge of embezzlement—that is the only time I have been charged with a criminal offence—I traded at Rotterdam as Benford and Co.—this letter of August 31st (produced) is my writing; that enables me to fix the date of my communication with the Bank of England—it was a few days before-June 31st that I wrote to the solicitors—after I came back on Monday night further questions were put to me, and I answered them.

FREDERICK SERGEANT. I am a wood and brass letter manufacturer, of 138, City Road, and have been there five or six years—some time in September Tragheim brought me a piece of gelatine with a tracing on it of "1" "0 "and a star, and gave me an order to make this as perforators through paper—he said he was getting them for a friend in the country—I asked him whether it was to be one stamp or three, as it was not traced through on the gelatine, he said he would write and let ma know the following day or the day after—he left 4s. deposit, and left and returned in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and said that referring to his friend's letter I was quite right, and they were wanted in three stamps—I made them, and he called again in a few days and paid the balance, sixpence, and took away the stamps, the gelatine, and a piece of paper with the perforations on it like this (produced), to show that they were perfect—this is the punch which I made the star with—Tragheim came again the next week and brought this piece of gelatine, with the letter B on it and some figures—that is called type—he gave me an order to make those letters and figures—I did so, and he called at 6 p. m. and fetched them away, and I gave him the gelatine—he paid 8s., and I called my wife to make the bill—this is it: "Bolton, October 1, 1890. 11 type-to order, M. Sergeant, 8s"—shortly afterwards he brought back ten out of the eleven, and said they did not fit close enough together, and wanted to be filed thinner—I did so, and gave them back to him—this star, this "1," and this "0," repeated three times on these letters of credit (produced) were made from the stamps I made, and I have no doubt that this "B 8,692," "B 8,693," and" B 8, 694. were made from the type I made for Tragheim—I have been in the trade all my life—these things were in the ordinary course of business, and I had no idea of there being anything wrong—they would have to be set up in a little frame to print from them.

Cross-examined. The police did not communicate with me till last Tuesday week—this was steel type, not lead; here is a specimen of it (produced)—I first saw Tragheim about 19th September—he came five-times—I never saw any letter of credit—this is a five-pointed star, and they generally have seven—I have brought the pieces I cut out with the stamp—I tested the perforators, and there was no defect in them; and as

to the figures, the close resemblance in size leads me to believe they were done with my perforator.

Re-examined. They correspond in every particular, and I have no doubt they are made from my stamp—this is the punch for the star; I had to make it—it is called a counter.

MARTHA SERGEANT. I am the wife of the last witness—one day in September I saw Tragheim with an elderly gentleman, who did not come into the shop—Tragheim spoke to me, and I called my husband—I went out ten minutes afterwards, leaving Tragheim with my husband, and as I came home again I saw Tragheim with the same elderly gentleman again—when he came again in October I made out this bill—he gave the name of Bolton, which I have got here.

Cross-examined. I may have seen him three, four, or five times—I was outside the first time he came, and followed him into the shop, and went behind the counter and asked him his business, and then called my husband, and went out again—I was absent about ten minutes, and two or three minutes after I came back Tragheim came back—I had not taken off my outdoor garments—that was about September 19th—I do not think it was earlier.

He-examined. When I saw Tragheim and the elderly gentleman in the street they were reading a letter.

ROBERT CHILD (City Detective). On September 12th Tragheim gave me certain information—there was a break in our communications at first, but after 26th September I saw him almost daily—on 16th September I saw him with the two prisoners in Liverpool Street—I knew he was going to meet Phillips, and I knew Johnson by sight—on 26th September Tragheim showed me some perforators for "1" and "0," and a, star, and a piece of gelatine—the perforators would make such marks as are on this paper—the marks on the gelatine are similar; they are the tracings—I went to the White Hart public-house, at the corner of Liverpool Street and Bishopsgate Street, about twenty minutes after they were in my hands, and saw Tragheim and the two prisoners—Johnson had the three perforators, and the little piece of brown paper in which they were wrapped, and was examining them very minutely, and Phillips and Tragheim were standing close to him—I am sure the prisoners did not see me—Tragheim brought me this piece of gelatine in October with the type, and took my instructions; the type corresponded with the figures traced on the, gelatine; he showed me some. correspondence at the same time—on October 17th Tragheim went to Brussels on his own account, not as my agent—I knew that he was going, and who he was going with—I received a telegram from him on October 21st, and the next day I took three detectives with me, and after waiting some hours arrested Johnson after he left his house, and told him the charge—he said, "I know nothing about it"—going to the station he said, "When do you say the forgeries took place?"—I said, "I should say last week"—he said, "Will you tell me the charge again?"—I repeated it, and he said again, "I know nothing about it"—I searched his house, 2, Vernon Villas, Twickenham, and produce a list of what I found there.

Cross-examined. An appointment was made by somebody else for Tragheim to meet me at Messrs. Freshfield's office—I saw him meet the prisoners on the 16th; they merely spoke together in Liverpool

Street, not in the public-house—I have taken a note of other persons whom he met—he did not meet other persons when the prisoners were not present previous to the 16th—he produced the three perforations about 10.30 a. m. in a public-house in Milk Street—I took very great pains to obscure myself when I was watching Tragheim—between October 1st and 17th I saw Tragheim daily, except on Sundays—I saw three or four other persons of the gang who he spoke to; he was then sleeping at 81, Greenfield Street—I did not watch him at all, he made appointments and we kept them—other officers were watching; I sometimes kept away three or four days, but I used to meet Tragheim every day—when he went abroad I did not telegraph to the Brussels police to keep their eyes on him.

JOHN HARMAN . I am a lithographic printer, of 12, Bacon Street,. Brick Lane; I have been in business there twelve years—about twelve months ago a man whose name I do not know had per mission to use my place for printing—he brought his own type—he came again in September this year, and again had permission to use my place of business—he had his own type, and set it up—I had not a printing-press large enough for him, and on 22nd December I got one from Mr. Fouracre; the price was £6 10s.; he gave me £5 10s.; and I was owing—he brought the type set up all ready—it was something similar to this—I did not take it up and read it—he was between thirty-five and forty years old—the two prisoners used to come to my place separately, and buy Bank of Engraving notes—I did not know their names—Johnson came four or five times; he was there about two hours when the man was printing these things; he asked me to go out and have a glass of ale; I said, "No," but I went out and got some bread and cheese, and the other man was there printing—there are two rooms there with a partition between—I came back and found them in the same position—I have never seen Johnson since—that was towards the end of September—September 29th was the last day I made a payment on the bill, and I do not recollect seeing Johnson afterwards—the man left the type at my place, and told me I might make use of it—the police afterwards communicated with me; I gave the type to Wright and Barton when they came.

Cross-examined. He set up the type on my premises the first time—it was brought in parcels as it came from the foundry—it was new type; the "a's" were in line and the "b's" were in line, and he put them into ordinary composing cases—he took away what he had set up, and when I saw it next it was in an iron frame properly blocked up with wood—the cases had some remnants of type in them; I gave them up to the police; they never left my place—actual printing was done at my place after the press was bought—I have a portion of the press still, and the other portion is here—when I have paid the remaining £1 I shall be the owner of the press—these Bank of Engraving notes are used as Christmas presents and by betting men, and a lot of tradesmen use them—I never saw either of the prisoners speak to the man—I do not know either of them except in the way of Bank of Engraving notes.

By the COURT. Johnson was there once for two hours, but did not speak to the man, he was talking tome; I cannot say whether he spoke to the man during the twenty minutes I was away, but they were in different rooms.

HENRY COX (City Policeman). On 24th September, in consequence of instructions from Child, I watched in Liverpool Street, and saw the prisoners together—I followed Johnson and another man to Bethnal Green, and lost sight of him in Gibraltar Gardens—I saw him again next day in Liverpool Street with someone else, followed them to Bacon Street, Spitalfields, and lost sight of him—on the 29th I saw Johnson again, and followed him to Mr. Harman's, 12, Bacon Street—I did not wait to see him come out—on September 30th I was watching in Bacon Street, and saw Johnson come there about 1.20; he went into No. 12, and came out about 4.20—I followed him to Shoreditch Station and lost sight of him—while he was there on the 30th I saw Mr. Harman come out to get some food, he was out twenty' minutes or half an hour—I have seen Johnson, Phillips, and Tragheim in company on other occasions in September and October.

ARTHUR BARTON (City Detective). On October 28th I was with Wright at Messrs. Brown and Co., printers, and brought over some type which Wright had received from Harman—Mr. Morgan, a printer, was there—I waited there while they set up some type, and this is an impression (produced).

WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Policeman), On 22nd October John Harman handed me two cases and some small parcels of type at 12, Bacon Street, which I took to Brown and Co., of St. Mary Axe, and handed it to Mr. Morgan.

Cross-examined. The parcels of type were not set up to stand on their feet, they were all loose, and there were a lot in paper wrapped up by themselves.

RICHARD ROBERT MORGAN . I am a printer, in the employ of Brown of Co., of St. Mary Axe—I received some type from Wright and Barton-1 set it up and printed this from it—(The list of the continental correspondents)—it is old style nonpareil—the correspondents lists are not exactly alike, there are some dark letters which I nave done since.

Cross-examined. You can get nonpareil at most type-founders-r-what I have done since is not in Egyptian—these initials were taken from the parcels—there were more left after I had taken them out—I got it out of the same parcel; they were tied up in the usual way when the parcel was brought; they stood on their feet, but they had a lot of ink on them; they had been used and not cleaned—one parcel was in "pie"—I set up about two pages—I had not enough type for them, and I had to make a first printing, and distribute the type, and set it up again—there was not enough to do two pages—both sets of dark letters came from the parcels—I have compared the forged documents with what I printed, and if I had got the initials right it would have been the same—if the letters had been put in it would have corresponded; I did not use them—the first page of this is lithograph—when I set up this page I had not a copy of the alleged forgeries—this (produced) is what I set from—there is a great difference in the" Payment will be made "and what I set up—I had not any type to imitate the genuine list of correspondents nearer than that I used, which I got from these parcels.

Re-examined. I made the list of correspondents from the list given me—I had not got the forged one—the typo would print the whole of this at twice, breaking up the first page.

WALTER THOMAS CHRISTIAN . I have been twenty-three years manager

of the credit department of J. IS. Morgan and Co., 22, Old Broad Street, the London correspondents and agents of Drexel, Morgan, and Co., New-York, and when they issue letters of credit I am advised of them—this is one of the genuine letters of that firm—when complete, the list of correspondents is attached to it, so that the holder can see where he can get the money—the first forged one is dated 18th September, 1890—for the year 1890 the proper initial letter is "C "instead of "B"—they do not change the letter every year, but last year "B "was the initial letter—these three letters of credit are forged; the colour of the "B "is red instead of violet, and I see a slight difference in the perforation of the "0"; the signature is slightly different, and so is the paper; I have weighed it—the paper of the original would be issued in New York—I have no advices relating to these three; two of them in the name of David Hope, and one in the name of Charles Thorn—the serial number is the same as last year.

Cross-examined. "A "was commenced about twelve years ago—I can't say how many years it continued—notice came from America when "A "ceased to be the initial letter—I did not inform all the correspondents of that—none of our agents knew that the initial, letter was changed, only the clerks knew it—"B "ran for about six years—we advised them to alter the initial, and they did so—under no circumstances was "B "used in 1890—these letters of credit are delivered out in New York—every person passing through does not show the letter of credit to me in London; they would go to the Continent with them and the Colonies—if I looked at the signature only in the first letter of credit I should not like to swear they were false without careful examination—I cannot describe the difference in the star—in the genuine credits the "O's "are always in a straight line—this is not exactly like the "O "in the original, it appears thinner at the top, where it is divided—the genuine letters of credit are printed in New York—no letter of credit would be paid if the list of correspondents became detached.

Re-examined. I have examined the signatures carefully, and I say they are forgeries.

ROBERT SAGER (City Police Inspector). On 22nd October I was keeping observation on 115, Hayter Road, Forest Gate, and when Phillips left I said, "Mr. Phillips, I am an officer, and these are officers here from the City; I am going to arrest you for forging and uttering letters of credit on Drexel and Morgan, of London and other places"—he said, "I have got no letters of credit; I know nothing about them"—I took him to the station.

GUILTY **— Seven Years each in Penal Servitude.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-39
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > no evidence; Guilty > unknown

Related Material

39. GEORGE RICHARD WADE (17), HENRY RAYMENT FREDERICK HOWLETT (18), JOSEPH MANZE (42), and JUDAH GEIS (44) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Bauer, and stealing eleven shawls and other articles.


MR. FORREST FULTON and MR. HORACE AVORY, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against Geis.


MR. BESLEY appeared for the Defence.

CHARLES BAUER . I am a warehouseman, trading as Dorrington, Bauer, and Co., in Lawrence Lane, City—my warehouse is on the second

floor; Mr. Bartlett occupies the floor above me—Wade was his porter—I have seen Howlett outside our house in Wade's company—the ceiling of my warehouse is made of matchboard—I have missed goods for some time prior to October 16th, and had given information to the police for five months before—on my arrival at nine a. m. on 16th October I found my desk had been forced open' with some instrument, and missed from it a stylographic pen, a knife, a store ticket, and other articles—these are them; they are my property—the police were communicated with later in the morning—they showed me on the top floor a quantity of woollen shawls and counterpanes, which I identified—on the same morning I saw at the station two pieces of serge which I identified as being taken from my premises—I went with Sergeant Davidson on the same day to 85, Bermondsey New Road, and saw Manze at his ice cream shop—on the first floor of those premises I saw a quantity of fancy aprons and shawls and pieces of cloth, which I identified as being taken from my warehouse, and in some drawers were found a quantity of under-vests and pants which I identified—a number of sale tickets which had been taken off those goods were found among rubbish in the kitchen, and also some yellow paper in which the goods had been wrapped—the piece of cloth had been cut into four lengths—the woollen shawls, aprons, and cloth had been taken on the 15th or 16th October—they are worth £7—I did not know there was a way through my ceiling.

Cross-examined. As far as I know these two lads had been removing the matchboard for nine or ten months, and putting it back in the same place, so that an ordinary observer would not notice it—they would then carry the goods to the loft, and take them away from time to time—they were all in the loft except what was taken to the cloak-room at Cannon Street station.

JOHN DAVIDSON (City Police Sergeant). On 16th October, at 10 a. m., I went to Lawrence Lane, and found that an entrance had been effected to Messrs. Dorrington's premises by taking up the boards of which the ceiling was composed—I saw Wade and Howlett, and in consequence of what I heard from them I examined the loft—there are three or four floors occupied by different tradesmen, and the loft was in the possession of Mr. Bartlett, who occupies the top floor—he employed Wade as a porter—I searched the loft some time afterwards, and this property was produced by Wade and Abbot—Mr. Bauer identified it in Wade's presence—in consequence of a statement made to me I went to Manze's place, 85, Bermondsey New Road, an ice cream shop, with Sergeant Abbot and Mr. Bauer and Barton; I said to Manze, "Do you understand English?" he said, "I understand a little, and speak a little"—there was a man who said he was Manze's son, and I said to him, "Will you tell your father we are police officers, and I want those clothes, women's aprons and shawls which were left here last night by two lads, and bought by you, in your bedroom, for 6s. 6d., 4s. for the clothes, and 2s. 6d. for the shawls and aprons?"—he conversed with Manze, who said, "No, no," and shook his head—I said, "Well, we must find them," and we proceeded to a bedroom on the first floor front, and on the table on the left I saw two pieces of cloth, eleven aprons, and I believe three woollen shawls—Mr. Bauer said, "Those are my property, also this piece of lace and two pieces of black lace trimming"—Manze said, "The

boys left it here; I gave them the money; they were going to call for it at night and take it away"—I found some pants, under-vests, women's shawls, and counterpanes in a box, and in a drawer a quantity of velveteen, all of which were Mr. Bauer's property, also some sateen, silk sleeve lining, and a quantity of beaded and lace trimming—that was not all Mr. Bauer's property—I found these tickets in a basket with some dust in the back kitchen—I took them to Manze—I had left him in the front bedroom, in Abbot and Barton's charge—I said, "These tickets have been identified as having been attached to the shawls and aprons; did you pull them off?"—he said, "No, the boys did that"—I found some paper in the kitchen with the tickets, which Mr. Bauer identified—I found four pieces of cloth—Mr. Bauer, in the prisoner's presence, said that that had been one piece—Manze said, "It was cut when it was brought here"—I also found a piece of gold netting, a piece of red satin, a piece of watered silk, four pieces of brown sateen, and a piece of lustrine (produced) which Mr. Oliver identifies—also four plated fish knives, a carving knife, a silver sugar knife, some velveteens, and two pieces of trimming, which Mr. Percy identifies, and Mr. Bartlett and other persons—I went down into the lavatory of the warehouse, and saw a rope found—I took Manze to the station—Wade and Howlett were then in custody—I brought them in and said, "Do you know this man?"—they both said, "That is Manze"—I said, "Do you recognise that property?"—they examined it and picked out four pieces of cloth, some women's aprons, and three shawls, and said, "That is what we sold last night"—I said, "Was the cloth in four pieces or one piece?"—they said, "One piece"—I said, "Were the tickets attached to the shawls?"—they said, "Yes," and took out some which they had brought from different places—I asked Manze if he understood it—he said, "You lie! the cloth was cut when you brought it, and the tickets were off the goods."

Cross-examined. The door leading to the roof had been forced, and the door of the room on the third floor also—the boards were removed from the ceiling of the second floor, and on the third floor a desk had been opened and things taken out of it, among which was the stylograph—I asked Wade what time he left the night before—he said, "About seven o'clock"—I said, "Did you find anything unusual in the warehouse?"—he said, "No"—I said, "Do you know if the boards have been nailed down?"—he said, "No"—I found a piece of string attached to the boards, and I said, "There is some string there, what is it for?"—he said, "To hold the boards in their place"—I said, "I have only just removed the board, and have not examined it; how do you know?"—he said that when he left at seven o'clock the night before he went to a fish-shop and an ice cream shop, and got home about 9.30—I said, "Are you telling me the truth?"—he said, "I cannot tell you anything about it"—Wade said, "I won't give you any further trouble, I did it"—I said, "By your self?"—he said, "No, Harry Howlett was with me"—he gave me the tickets for two pieces of silk—I said, "Where is the other property? "—he said, "Some of it is in the loft," and Abbot went into the loft with Wade—I said that Mr. Bauer had missed other property—he said, "I went in once before with Howlett some months ago; some of the property I sold to Manze, who keeps an ice cream shop"—all this information was given to me before I went and saw Manze—I have

seen Manze's son here; that is him (pointing)—I allowed him to be the interpreter—he spoke English pretty well—I said to the son, "There are two lads in custody, who said they brought clothes there"—he apparently translated that, and Manze said, "No, no," and shook his head—he did not admit at once that he had got the property—I said-" We shall have to find it"—I was not shown the property directly—I found the cloth and the shawls on the top in the first floor bedroom—that bedroom may have been used as a sitting-room as well—Mr. Bartlett identified the beaded lace trimming, but one piece was found belonging to Mr. Bauer—five pieces were found in the loft, but this piece was not—I do not know that Manze has five ice cream barrows—I saw none—I do not know that his two sons stand about with ice cream barrows, or how many men he employs—something was said about his having five shops—there was an order for bail, and I objected to one person, or rather I told one person if he wished to prove himself worth the amount he must come to the Police-court.

JOHN BACKHOUSE DUMBLE . I am agent to Ashton and Co., who have a warehouse at 1, Castle Street, on the first floor—I have seen a quantity of velveteen in the hands of the police, which I have identified—it was stolen from my place in February—about £80 worth of it was stolen from my place in February, including these.

Cross-examined. I was present when Wade described the cutting out of the glass of my place, and stealing a key and putting the glass back again—we found out that our stock was short in February—we immediately took stock, which showed the deficiency—the previous stocktaking was in December—what was found at Manze's was worth 30s. or £2.

GEORGE RICHARD OLIVER . I am a sales agent—Howlett was in my employ from August, 1889, to June, 1890—I have been shown a quantity of dress silk which I identified—I missed it between August, 1889, and June, 1890—I first missed some in November, 1889, at the stocktaking—there was a trunk on my premises belonging to Mr. Percy Williams—the rivets of the hinges were taken off—it had been left with me to take care of—I do not know what was in it, but I understand it was plate.

Cross-examined. The dress silks may have been taken as long ago as August, 1889—I saw them safe in August.

PERCY WILLIAMS . I am a silk warehouseman, of Friday Street—I deposited a trunk with Mr. Oliver in August, 1889, which contained a quantity of plated knives and forks.

EDWARD HENRY BARTLETT . I am a merchant, on the third floor at 1, Castle Court—Wade was in my service—I identified these pieces of trimming—I did not miss them; they were stolen at the end of December last.

Cross-examined. They were in a box with paper round them—they were worth 50s. or £3—there is no mark left on them now, but I identified them—this fashion only began last year.

GEORGE RICHARD WADE (the Prisoner). I was in Mr. Bartlett's service on the third floor of this warehouse—I know the prisoner Manze by going to his shop with Howlett and buying ice creams—he asked me to bring him stuff—we asked him what he meant—he said satin stuff, and he would always be willing to buy it—that was in January—we took him some satin stuff about the end of January or the beginning of February—I got it from Ashton and Co., in the same building, by taking off

the beading of the door and taking the glass out—I took ten pieces of gold lace and two pieces of satin, and took part to Manze and part to Geis—we got 4s. a piece for the satin and 2s. 6d. for the sateen—after that we took other articles from Mrs. Ashton's—after Manze told us to-bring him some more, we got in again with a key which was taken away on the first occasion—then we took about the same quantity of the same-sort of stuff, and sold part to Manze—I heard that Mr. Ashton had found it out, and did not go in again, as there were detectives about—I have pleaded guilty to stealing goods from Dorrington, Bauer and Co. about March—I got in there through the floor by raising the ceiling boards, and got down by the aid of a rope after seven o'clock, when the people had left; Howlett was with me—he took some serges, fancy aprons and shawls—Manze bought them—I see them here now—we went to Bauer's place again on 15th October, and got in the same way, and took shawls, aprons, cloth, and two counter panes—the cloth was in one piece—we left them there with the tickets still on them, and the cloth was in one roll—it was about eight o'clock when we got into the place, and about 9.15 when we took them to Manze—it was always in the evening—Manze was in bed—he paid us 4s. for the piece of cloth, and 2s. 6d. for the parcel of shawls and fancy aprons, and asked if we had any more—we-said, "Yes," we had hidden them; he told us to bring them—they were hidden in the loft—me and Howlett broke open a desk—I do not know anything about these plated knives and forks—I know nothing about Mr. Oliver's foods, except what Howlett told me—I took the pieces of trimming which Mr. Bartlett identifies, about April, and sold them to Manze for 1s. 6d. each piece—when we were at the Police-court, in the cells, Manze told us to say that we had only seen him on the previous night, and to say that we did not sell them to him, but to one of his servants, Chittensie, to open a shop, and if we said so he would give us two guineas, and if we did not he would kill us—I made the same statement at the Mansion House as I am making now—Manze said if we told the Judge that, it would make it bad for me, but if we said that it would have made it good for all of us—he spoke in broken English; I always spoke to-him in English; sometimes he understood better than at other times.

Cross-examined. This is my second situation—my first was at a printer's—I was only there three weeks, having left school rust before-first stole things about January of this year—I had made Howlett's acquaintance about a year and a half before—I knew from him a month or two before January that he had stolen things from Oliver's—he was working there at the time—he did not put up this door and take out the glass—I don't know whose idea it was—I am four days older than he is—the officer called my attention to the string that was put round the nails, and then I said I would give no further trouble if he did not press it too hard—I have not been told that it would not be pressed against me if I gave a full account—I intended to tell thoroughly all that I know—the ticket at the station cloak-room was for two pieces of serge—I was going to take the cloth at the cloak-room to Geis—I do not know a man named Fear on who serves ice cream—I do not know how many visits I made to Manze—it was not twenty nor a dozen—we went about three nights—I do not know what family he has—I have seen his sons in the shop—I

did not tell the police officer I bad been to Manze the night before, and only once before; I said the night before and at other times—I do not remember saying I had only been there twice—these pieces, which were in the loft, were not taken at the time I was taken in custody—I had them before February.

HENRY RAYMOND FREDERICK HOWLETT . I have pleaded guilty to being concerned with the other boy in stealing the property now in Court—I was employed by Mr. Oliver—I first knew Manze about a year ago by going to his shop buying ices—I stole this gold net, red silk lustrine, and other articles from Mr. Oliver's about a year ago—I do not know in what month I left, but it was this year—I took the property about six months before I left; it was in the summer of last year, and I left this summer—I took them to Manze, who gave me about six shillings or eight shillings for them—I have also pleaded guilty to stealing a quantify of fish knives, forks, and other articles from a box in my master's care; I took the pins out of the hinges of the box about two months-before I left—I took the things to Manze, and received three or four shillings for them.

Cross-examined. I have been to Manze's about a dozen times or so—I always went into the kitchen and saw his sons and his wife—he has a numerous family—I have seen one son going about the street with an ice cream barrow—I know an Englishman who went about with a barrow—my transactions were always in the kitchen, except the last, and that was in the bedroom—the taking out the glass was partly my idea, and we did it between us—I had stolen things before that from Mr. Bauer; I have also stolen from Mr. Oliver and Mr. Ashford—I had not stolen things before I made Wade's acquaintance—I was the first stealer, at Oliver's; I did not tell Wade of it for a long time; it was six months after I was employed there—I went there early in 1889—it might have been before June, 1889, that Oliver's things were stolen—I once went to Manze's without Wade, and I was told to wait outside—I did not deny all knowledge of the matter when I was taken; the officers told me after some time that Wade had made a confession; I do not think I had admitted anything before that—I said before the Magistrate, "We did. not steal the amount of velvet said to have been taken from Ashton"—I did not know Wade was going to make a statement, and did not arrange it with him, but I told him I should tell the Alderman all, and he said it would be better for us.

PERCY WILLIAMS (Re-examined). I identify these plated articles; they were in the trunk I left at Mr. Oliver's.

Cross-examined. I lost more articles than I found, and more valuable ones—those in the box were worth £20 or £80; these are estimated at £5.

Witnesses for the Defence.

FRANTELINI MANZE . I am eighteen years old—the prisoner Manze is my father—he is hired as a model by an artist at the South Kensington School—I have been in this country eleven years—he goes out with an ice cream barrow, and has five or six shops—he employs eight men besides me and my brother—I have seen Wade and Howlett there for refreshment—they brought a parcel the night before my father was taken in custody; he was upstairs in bed—they asked for Jerry, who used to work with us, but went away to Italy, leaving a box with some articles in

it which the police took away, as he owed my father a little sum—to my knowledge the boys had not sold anything to my father till that night—what was found there was bought by Jerry—I went up to the bedroom and saw the boys talking to my father—they said they wanted to sell the stuff to Jerry; he was not there, and they pressed my father to buy this piece of cloth and the aprons, but he refused three or four times—they said, "Why don't you buy it? Jerry used to buy it, don't be afraid "they got no money out of him, and the biggest one said, "We are hard up, if you will lend us 6s. 6d. on the articles, we will come to-morrow night and take the things away"—my father was in bed, and I saw the boys pulling the things about, but I did not notice whether they were pulling the tickets off; the police found them in the dust—my mother swept the room the next morning—I did not hear my father say to either of them, "If anything is stolen bring it to me"—there are eight of us, and I am the eldest—the goods were left on the same table where the police found them.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. When the lads unrolled the cloth and showed it to my father, it was in three or four pieces—I remember the boys coming to the shop to see Jerry, but they did not bring cloth, velveteen, or shawls, they came to eat ice creams, and Jerry sold them; he worked for us at so much a month—my father was very much astonished when he opened Jerry's box and found this valuable property and new goods—his name is Jerry Ferrara something—I cannot remember when he went away—when my father opened the box and saw the goods he was surprised, and took the goods and placed them in a drawer—he did not believe they had been stolen, but I thought they had, and told my father so; he did not answer me—he put the knives and forks in the top drawer—it never occurred to me to give information to the police of this stolen property in the place—I did not say to my father, "Take care, this is more stolen property, like we found in Jerry's box," because he refused to buy it—I expect the lads pulled off the tickets, and when the room was swept they went down to the basket in the back kitchen, and I suppose one piece of paper was left on the bed and got to the ground, and was swept up and taken to the back kitchen—my mother was present at the interview, but not my brother—the box contained all these things—no one had access to it but my father.

Re-examined. Jerry had the key when he left—we took the box down into the front room, and my father broke it open with a poker; that was before the boys came.

MICHAEL MANZE . I am seventeen years old, and am a son of the prisoner—I have been eleven years in this country—Germano Ferrara was in my father's employ—we called him Jerry—he left in the summer; I cannot remember the month, or how long his box remained in my father's possession—I saw no goods brought by Wade or Howlett—I was not there the night before my father was taken in custody.

JACQUEMO CASTRINI . I do not speak much English—I knew Ferrara as Jerry—I saw him buying goods of the two boys in the open street—he had got an ice barrow—I once saw goods given into Ferrara's possession, they were taken to his house; that is Manze's house—I was sleeping with Ferrara—he put the things into a box which he had the key of, and used it when he put the goods into the box—I was not present when the boys came on the night before Manze was taken away—I do not remember

in what month Ferrara left—he left the box behind him because he could not pay 13s. which he owed to Mr. Manze.

Cross-examined. I thought the things were stolen—it happens frequently that ice cream men take parcels in the street on their barrows—I never told my master about Jerry bringing that property up into the bedroom—I never saw Jerry sell any of the property he bought.

JAMES MURRAY . I have worked three years and two months for Mr. Manze with an ice cream barrow—I at one time occupied the same room as Ferrara—I have seen him bring goods in and place them in his box—he had two boxes—he went away in August, and took one box with him, and a fortnight afterwards the other box was broken open and the things taken out and put into the drawers—I only arrived as Manze was being taken away—he had been ill that day.

Cross-examined. Jerry came home with property, and put it into the box four times to my knowledge—he never left anything about—I get £1 a month and my board and lodging, and perhaps Jerry got the same, perhaps more—ice cream men are not in the habit of receiving parcels in the street, and putting them on their barrows—I do not know how he came to leave his box behind—he went away on notice—I never told my master he would find a large quantity of valuable property in the box upstairs—I was there when it was broken open, and so was Castrini—nobody told Manze what was in it—I knew there were parcels in it.

ALFRED WILSON . I live at Mr. Manze's, and have gone out with a barrow for some time—I slept in the same room with Ferrara at times—I am English—I remember his going away and leaving a box; I do not know whether it was locked—it was broken open afterwards—I never saw him again—I did not see the two boys come, but I saw Manze when the police were taking him away—I know the boys by coming to the shop.

MRS. MODENI. I am English—I married an Italian, and went with him to Italy this summer—I saw Giovanni Ferrara there in August—I knew him before, and knew he was employed by Manze; he made a statement to me.

MANZE— GUILTY . (See Third Court, Tuesday, December 2nd.)

OLD COURT.—Friday, November 28th, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-40
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

40. WILLIAM COLLINS (39), CHARLES CARTER (39), and HARRY GODDARD (22) , Feloniously ravishing and carnally knowing Emma Goodall.

MR. FORREST FULTON Prosecuted; MR. TYBRELL appeared for Collins, MR. MOYSES for Carter, and MR. GEOGHEGAN for Goddard. Carter and Goddard received good characters. NOT GUILTY .

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-41
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

41. HENRY BRUCE (30) , Committing an unnatural offence upon Thomas Anderson.

MR. PAUL TAYLOR Prosecuted, and MR. LE RICHE Defended.


OLD COURT.—Saturday, November 29th, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-42
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

42. GEORGE BROWN (38), For the wilful murder of Catherine Brown.

MR. ELDRIDGE and MR. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. EDMUNDS Defended.

The Coroner's Jury having found a verdict of manslaughter only, the prosecution abandoned the charge of murder, and opened a case of manslaughter The deceased was very drunk, and was quarrelling with the prisoner, her husband, on the stairs, and as there was no evidence whether the prisoner pushed her or whether she fell from drink, the JURY stopped the case and found a verdict of


[For other cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.']

OLD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, December 1st, and 2nd, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Denman,

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-43
VerdictGuilty > unknown

Related Material

43. MARY ELEANOR PEARCEY (24) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the wilful murder of Phœbe Hogg.



JOHN CHARLES PEABCEY . I am a carpenter, and live at High Street, Camden Town—I did live at Piermont Street—I have known the prisoner-about five years—when I made her acquaintance, I knew her as Eleanor Wheeler—after an acquaintance of three or four months she lived with me—I lived at different places, and eventually at Bayham Street, Camden Town—I lived with her about three years—when I ceased to live with her she remained at Bayham Street—when she lived with me she took the name of Pearcey, and afterwards passed in that name—towards the latter part of the time she made the acquaintance of Mr. Hogg, and I saw her from time to time in company with Hogg, frequently in the shop in King Street—in consequence of that I ceased to live with her—when I left Bayham Street, I left there an old Cardigan jacket—this is it (produced)—when I left it there were three buttons on it, and the sleeves-were attached—the sleeves have been cut off, and the buttons removed—I know it by the right-hand pocket, the left-hand pocket is missing—after I ceased to live with the prisoner, I saw her from time to time, and spoke to her—I simply passed the time of day, I never visited her—I was told she she had removed from Bayham Street to Priory Street—I have frequently seen her in the street—it is a quarter of a mile from Bayham Street to Priory Street—I remember seeing her on Thursday, 23rd October—I was passing through Priory Street to my work, and saw her standing at the door of No. 2—my attention was attracted to the blinds of the-house—I asked her why the blinds were down—she said that a young brother of hers died somewhere near, and she was busy making up mourning to go to the funeral on Tuesday next—I spoke to her about five minutes, and passed on.

Cross-examined. I only know from what she told me that she was

between seventeen and eighteen when I first met her—she was supporting herself by working at a sealskin factory—I lived with her as near as possible three years, as her husband—I first saw her with Hogg just over two years ago—that was partly the cause of our separation, not exactly the chief cause, it was one of the causes.

Re-examined. There was another cause; there was another gentleman.

THOMAS HOLLIS (T 410). I have had some experience in preparing plans—I have made a plan of the ground floor of 2, Priory Street, it is drawn to scale of half an inch to the foot; it is correct—I have measured the distances between certain places mentioned in this case—the distance from 2, Priory Street, to 141, Prince of Wales Road is 1,650 yards—from Priory Street to the corner of Crogsland Road is 1,610 yards—from Priory Street to Crossfield Street is 1 mile "1,660 yards—from Priory Street to 34, Hamilton Terrace is 2 miles 1,360 yards—from Priory Street to the field at Finchley, where the body of the child was found, is 3 miles 300 yards—from Crossfield Road to 34, Hamilton Terrace, where the perambulator was found, is 1 mile 810 yards, and from Hamilton Terrace to the field where the body of the child was found is 2 miles 730 yards.

Cross-examined. In front of 2, Priory Street there is a doorstep and another step just on the edge of the—pavement; anybody walking by in the street could see through the window into the front parlour if the blind was up and nothing standing in the way—you could not see from the back parlour into the kitchen, you must first come out into the passage—anybody on the staircase could not see into the kitchen; unless they went right beyond the door of the bedroom, it would be impossible.

MARTHA STYLES . I am a domestic servant in employment at Egham, the deceased was my sister—I know the prisoner—in the beginning of February my sister was ill—I went to see her and found the prisoner was nursing her—from something that took place my sister went from home to Mill Hill—I took her there—she stayed there some fourteen days—her husband visited her there—she then returned—I saw her from time to time after February—the prisoner only saw her on one day after that, when she came to the house and my sister opened the door to her; it was not to visit my sister that she came then—I never saw her in company of my sister after the illness in February—on Thursday, 23rd October, I saw my sister, I met her at the Metropolitan Finchley Road Station—I was in her company from about four till about ten minutes past six; my niece, Edith Styles, was with me—my sister had her child with her—she showed me a note written in pencil, she spoke to me about the note and handed it to me; after reading it I burnt it—we were then at 18, Albion Road, where my niece was employed; that was the last time I saw a sister alive.

Cross-examined. I do not know in whose handwriting the note was—I saw my sister four or five times between February and October—the first time after February I saw her with my father—I only went once to her house between February and October, that was in September.

ELIZABETH STYLES . I am a housemaid, employed at the Swiss Cottage in Albion Road—the deceased was my aunt, I saw a great deal of her—I went to see her in February when she was ill—from what I saw of her condition of health I spoke to her husband, and afterwards

communicated with her relations, and she went to her sister's—at that time the prisoner was at Prince of Wales Road nursing my aunt—I know that my aunt afterwards came home—from something that was said at the time I ceased to visit the house in Prince of Wales Road from February, but she very often saw me—on 23rd October I was with the last witness when I saw the deceased, she came to my house, we were all three there together—I remember a pencil note being shown by her—some conversation took place about it—it was afterwards burnt—my aunt was not well after February to October.

FRANK SAMUEL HOGG . I live at 141, Prince of Wales Road—the deceased, Phœbe Hogg, was my wife—we were married in November, 1888—I had been familiar with her before our marriage; a girl was born on 11th April, 1889, named Phœbe Hanslope—after our marriage I cohabited with my wife at 141, Prince of Wales Road—I first made the prisoner's acquaintance a little over four years ago—she was then living at Bayham Street, Camden Road, she was then living with her husband, Mr. Pearcey—I always believed that he was her husband, she went by the name of Mrs. Pearcey—at that time I was managing a provision business belonging to my mother at 87, King Street—I continued to manage that business up to 22nd March, 1888—since that time I have been a furniture mover, sometimes for my brother, and for some time I was at Shoolbred's—I remember the prisoner leaving Bayham Street and going to live at 2, Priory Street—I believe that was about September or October, 1888; that was before my marriage—I called on her there two or three times, very rarely—I was in the habit. of receiving letters from her, not through the post; she used generally to bring them herself, and leave them on the counter for me at 87, King Street, and she has left them in her house on the table for me—she took the letters back again after I had read them—I had a latchkey of 2, Priory Street, but not till months after that; it would be about twelve months ago, as near as I can recollect, about December, 1889—the prisoner gave it me so that I could go in when I liked, and have immoral intercourse with her—that intercourse first took place after my marriage; never before—I believe it was at the Christmas time, 1888, the Christmas following my marriage—it continued up to 24th October—my wife was not acquainted with the prisoner till December, 1889—the prisoner sent an invitation through me, verbally, to ask her to spend Christmas Day with her—I carried the message—my wife was not aware at that time of the relations between the prisoner and myself—she accompanied me on Christmas Day last to 2, Priory Street, and I introduced her to the prisoner—we stopped there that night and the day following, Boxing Day—I and my wife occupied one bed, and the prisoner another—after that the prisoner was in the habit of coming to visit my wife at 141, Prince of Wales Road, from time to time, as a friend, with the child—in January, 1890, my wife was seized with illness—the prisoner came to 141 and offered to nurse my wife in her illness, and take care of the child; we kept no servant—my wife could not keep about; she was sometimes in one room, and sometimes in another—she was not able to attend to her domestic duties—she continued in that condition for about a fortnight or three weeks as far as I recollect—during that time the prisoner was not an inmate of 141; she came in the morning, and went away at night; for the

first two or three days she stayed the night, but afterwards she came in the morning, and went away in the evening—I was not in good work at the time; I was on very short work; I was much at home about that three weeks—during the time her illness lasted I had some difference with my wife—Elizabeth Styles, my niece, called a good many times at 141—she never complained to me about the way I was treating her sister, only once, that was at the end of February; she had been ill about a month then—after that complaint Elizabeth Styles never came to the house-again; I forbade her the house—that was not in consequence of my being too familiar with the prisoner; she said I was not giving her sister sufficient food—Martha Styles came on Sunday; she stopped on Sunday night, and look her away with her on the Monday morning to Mill Hill; she remained there about ten days—I went there to see her the day after she left—I had the disagreement with her some few days before she went away—that was not about the prisoner—up to that time my wife had not the least knowledge of the adulterous intercourse I was having with the prisoner—at the end of the ten days she returned to 141, Prince of Wales Road—after that, to my knowledge, the prisoner never visited at our place; my wife did not object to her doing so, she never mentioned her name; I continued my visits to Priory Street all this time—on 24th October my wife's father was very ill, and expected to die; he was living at Chorley Wood, Rickmansworth, Herts—I left home at nine that morning to carry on my work—it was arranged that if my wife received any news whatever she was to go to Chorley Wood to her father—I was occupied during the whole of that day, in company with a man named Buckstone, in removing furniture for different people up to ten o'clock at night—I returned home at ten—I did not find my wife or the child at home—I saw a note on the table; I read it—I then went down. stairs and saw my mother, and then went to 2, Priory Street—my wife was in the habit of taking the child out in a four-wheeled bassinette perambulator—that was not in the house when I got home—about a week before 24th October I had a conversation with the prisoner about my wife, on one of my visits to 2, Priory Street—she asked me if I should be very much surprised if she told me Tiggy had been there to-day (Tiggy was a pet name for the baby)—I said, "Yes, I should"—she asked me if I should be angry at it—I said, "No, I should not"—it was in consequence of. what I saw in the note that I went to 2, Priory Street—I let myself in with my private latchkey—I arrived there, as near as I can recollect, at twenty minutes past ten—it took me about ten minutes to walk from Prince of Wales Road to Priory Street, at an ordinary walking pace—when I got there there was no light in the front parlour, nor in the hall—generally there was a light in the hall, a lamp against the wall—I believe it was the prisoner's duty to keep that lamp lighted—she said it was put up at her expense, for she paid for the oil, and she could light it if she liked—there was a light in the back parlour, used as a bedroom—it was understood between us that if there was a light in the back parlour it meant that Mrs. Pearcey was out, and might be late; seeing the light there, I wrote something on a piece of paper, and went at once away, and went back home to 141, Prince of Wales Road, and I slept there that night—I did not go out again that night—I got up at six in the morning—my mother and my sister Clara occupied the first floor, and I occupied the second floor—Mrs. Barraud occupied

the ground floor, in the parlour—when I got up I went to the stable; that was part of my day's work—I returned to breakfast at a quarter to eight; I saw both my mother and sister at that time, and had a conversation with them—after breakfast I went to Chorley Wood; I went by rail from Finchley Road Station on the Metropolitan Railway; before starting I gave my sister Clara certain directions as to what she was to do—I got down to Chorley Wood; I did not find my wife there, and I at once returned to London by the next train, and went to 141, Prince of Wales Road—I there saw my mother; she showed me a newspaper—that was the very first intimation I had that my wife had come to her death by violence—I had not heard or seen anything of it, in the train or anywhere—on reading the account in the newspaper I wanted to go to the Police-station to identify her—Clara was not in the house at that time—I did not see anything of the prisoner—I did not go to the station; Inspector Bannister and two other gentlemen called immediately after; that would be between a quarter and ten minutes to one in the forenoon—I had to go to the station with them, and I had to identify the body; I went from there to the mortuary, which was somewhere near; I there identified the dead body of my wife, Phœbe Hogg—I had seen the prisoner before I went to the railway station that morning; as I was going out of the door she was coming up the steps; that was about nine in the morning as near as I can recollect—I asked her if the perambulator had been booked at the station—she said, "No"—my sister had left the house some time before that, on receiving certain directions from me—that was the only conversation I had with her; I never spoke to her again till she was in custody—the last occasion on which I saw the prisoner prior to Friday, the 24th October, was on Wednesday night, 22nd October, that was in Prince of Wales Road, I met her—nothing was mentioned about my wife at that time—on the 22nd Mrs. Pearcey asked me if I had got half an hour to spare—I said, "No," I had a little work that I wanted to be doing at home; that was the whole conversation—the prisoner was in the habit of visiting my mother and sister Clara at 141, at intervals up to 24th October—she never came there after my sister returned, because I for bade my sister coming there—the prisoner never told me why she did not visit my wife, she never gave any reason; I never had any conversation with her about it—I never told her not to visit my wife—I after wards heard that the prisoner was arrested on this charge, and on Sunday, 26th October, I identified the body of my little girl at the Hampstead Mortuary—I was not maintaining the prisoner at this time—she told me that she had a small income—I did not know then that she received the visits of another person, I did not know it till after this case—(looking at a number of letters) I believe all these to be in Mrs. Pearcey's hand writing—the earlier ones were mostly left at 87, King Street; the undated ones are those that were left on the table. for me to find—when I visited her at 2, Priory Street I did so in my own name—I was known to the Butlers as Mr. Hogg. (The following letters were read in the opening:—"2nd October, 1888. My dear F.,—Do not think of going away, for my heart will break if you do; don't go, dear. I won't ask too much, only to see you for five minutes when you can get away; but if you go quite away, how do you think I can live? I would see you married fifty times over, yes. I

could bear that far better than parting with you for ever, and that is what it would be if you went out of England. My dear loving F., you was so downhearted to-day that your words give me much pain, for I have only one true friend I can trust to, and that is yourself. Don't take that from me. What good would your friendship be then, with you so far away? No, no, you must not go away. My heart throbs with pain only thinking about it. What would it be if you went? I should die. And if you love me as you say you do, you will stay. Write or come soon, dear. Have I asked too much?—From your loving M. E. P. 8.—I hope you got home quite safe, and things are all right, and you are well.—M. E. "" 18th November, 1888. Dearest Frank,—I cannot sleep, so am going to write you a long letter. When you read this I hope your head will be much better, dear, I can't bear to see you like you were this evening. Try not to give way. Try to be brave, dear, for things will come right in the end. I know things look dark now, but it is always the darkest hour before the dawn. You said this evening, I don't know what I ask. 'But I do know. Why should you want to take your life because you want to have everything your own way? So you think you will take that which no man has a right; never take that which you cannot give—you will not if you love me as you say you do. Oh! Frank, I should not like to think I was the cause of all your troubles, and yet you make me think so. What can I do? I love you with all my heart, and I will love her because she will belong to you. Yes, I will come and see you both if you wish it. So, dear, try and be strung, as strong as me, for a man should be stronger than a woman. Shall I see you on Wednesday, about two o'clock? Try and get away, too, on Friday, as I want to know if you are off on Sunday until seven o'clock. Write me a little note in answer to this. I shall be down on Monday or Tuesday in the morning, about nine a. m.—So believe me to remain your most loving M. E. "Dear Frank,—You ask me if I was cross with you for only coming for such a little while. If you know how lonely I am, you would not ask. I would be more than happy if I could see you for the same time every day, dear. You know I have a lot of time to spare, and I cannot help thinking. I think and think, till I get so dizzy that I don't know what to do with myself. If it was not for your love, dear, I do not know what I should really do, and. I am always afraid you will take that away, then I should quite give up in despair, for that is the only thing I care for on earth. I cannot live without it now. I have no right to it, but you gave it to me, and I can't give it up. Dear Frank, don't think bad of me for writing this. I do hope your cold will soon go away. Hoping to see you to-morrow, with love from your ever loving and affectionate" M. E. P. S.—Don't think anyone would know the handwriting."

Cross-examined. I have seen Mrs. Butler once or twice, not to speak to her or her husband, I think, or anybody else in the house; I dont think I have spoken to them—my wife wore one wedding-ring—when I saw her at the mortuary the wedding-ring was not on her finger—I have seen the wedding-rings which the prisoner was wearing, and identified them; neither of them was the ring my wife wore, I am positive of that—when I first met Mrs. Pearcey I believed her to be married; I never knew any different till this occurred—the first occasion on which I heard she was not married was during the proceedings at the Police-court since

my wife's death—I should not have raised the least objection to my wife going to see Mrs. Pearcey; they were always on extremely friendly terms—I have heard that my wife used to visit her; she never told mo that she had been to see Mrs. Pearcey during the eight months; I do not know whether she did—I do not know whether the first time she had been to Mrs. Pearcey was at Christmas—Mrs. Pearcey had not been to our house before then, to visit my sister Clara or my mother, that I am aware of—I first made the prisoner's acquaintance by her coming to the shop as a customer; that would be quite two years before my marriage—Bayham Street is just across the road from our shop—I believe she remained at Bayham Street somewhere about two years before she moved to Priory Street; I am not quite sure; I was living almost opposite to her for nearly two years; I saw her frequently during these two years—I have met her out; we were on very friendly terms, but there was no intercourse between us till September, 1888; there was no affection, I did not kiss her or anything like that; none at all before my marriage—our intimacy did not commence till September, 1888—I received the letter of 2nd October, 1888, before my marriage—there was no criminal intimacy between us on that date, only friendship (the letter was again read to the witness)—I say I had never been intimate with her before that, nothing more than friendship—I might have kissed her, but we were not intimate—I don't remember saying that I loved her; probably I have—at the time I had connection with her she was separated from her husband—I mean in December—I don't remember whether she was separated in October—she was then living in Priory street by herself—I can't call to mind the month she went there—I helped to move her things from Bayham Street—I think it was in the winter—I believe it was about the time referred to in that letter, but I can't say for sure—I can't say whether I was aware at the time I received that letter that she was separated from Pearcey—she was separated from him at the time she went to Priory Street—she went there somewhere about the time I received that letter—I mean that I had connection with her two months after my marriage, never having had connection with her before—I did not know that she was separated from Pearcey till the day that occurred—she separated from him the day before she went to Priory Street—I was always on good terms with her—I had not asked her if she was married—she told me she was married—she never asked me to marry her—I remember receiving this letter of 19th October. (Head: "Frank, dear, you said,? if I thought I loved you'—what did you mean by that? Don't you know that I do? How can I prove to you that I do love you dearly? If there is anything I can do to prove it, I promise you it shall be done, you have more power over me than anyone on earth. When I say that, I say all. Do have a wee bit for me when I come to-morrow. I hope you did not get into any bother. Good night, dear.") I don't remember receiving that letter; I don't call it to mind—I still mean to say that there was no intimacy between us till Christmas, as I have stated. (A letter of 23rd October was read: "My Dearest F.—Shall I see you about two to-morrow? Come if you can, dear, if you can't stop long. I have got such a bad headache or heartache. Hoping you are quite well, with best love from your ever loving M. E.")—"E. M." was her usual signature—I can't be positive whether I wrote to her at that

time, I used to see her; she used to come to the shop—I have written on one or two occasions; I generally called her by her Christian name. (Letter of 25th October read: "Dear Frank,—Thanks so much for the letter; it was so good of you to send it. I am thinking how selfish I am for asking you to come here to see me. Of course you don't want to be bothered with me; but, if you can come on Friday I shall be very glad to see you, as I am afraid to come to the shop. I might make mischief, so to prevent it I had better not come. People say ugly things some times, not nice to hear. So when I come into the shop again I shall be very careful, and especially if an inquisitive lady should come in—you know who I mean. Dear Frank, the time has been so long to-day; every minute seemed an hour, waiting for you. Do try and come on Friday. So good-bye till then, with good wishes from M. E. In this false world we do not always know who are our friends, and who are our enemies. We all have enemies, and all need friends.

'Can it be so, or does my sight Deceive me in the uncertain light? Ah! no; I recognise the face, Though time has touched it in its flight.'"

"1st November, 1888. My dear Boy,—Don't for get to-morrow (Friday), about 2.30.")—I did send a letter—I can't remember who the inquisitive lady was, it was not my wife—I have no notion who it was; I can't call to mind—many women came into the shop; not to inquire After me—no other woman called at the shop to see me—I did not pay any attention to that fact—I cannot call that letter to mind, I may have received it; I have received many letters from her, love letters—I did not receive letters from any other woman. (Letter of 18th November, 1888, read to the witness.)—I cannot recall that letter—I do not recollect wanting to take my life—I cannot recollect it—no, I did not; I never did talk of taking my life—I cannot think what that might be—I don't remember ever receiving that letter—I don't at all call to mind saying anything to her about taking my life—I was not married till the 22nd of November—I was engaged to be married on the 18th—I had been engaged to be married to my wife about two years before my marriage—I met my wife about the same time I had known Mrs. Pearcey—on the night in question I returned home about ten, and I got to the prisoner's house about twenty minutes past ten, as far as I can recollect—I picked up this envelope in the room, and wrote this in pencil on it and left it on the mantelpiece in the bedroom, "About twenty past ten; cannot stop longer"—there was a light in that room, but not in the front parlour—I did not go in there, but I could see if there was a light, because it would show on the blind—it is very easy to see into the room from the road when the blinds are up—there was no light in the kitchen—I went straight into the prisoner's bedroom—when I had written the note I came straight out and looked down the passage to see whether there was a light in the kitchen—I did not go down the passage only one step—I did not go into the kitchen at all the kitchen door is more than a yard from where I stood—the passage is slightly turned there—there was no light, and I turned away—I did not examine the door, or call out—I remember my wife and I going to stay at the prisoner's house at Christmas last year: my wife and I occupied the bedroom, and the

prisoner slept on a couch outside—my wife was on good terms with the prisoner—my wife never prevented me from going to Priory Street; she never knew of the intimacy—the prisoner has always expressed herself in friendly terms towards my wife—I have never had any quarrel with the prisoner—I always found her of an affectionate and kind nature—I believe the prisoner was nursing my wife altogether about three weeks; she was backwards and forwards; she paid her every attention, even supplying her with luxuries—the complaint made by Elizabeth Styles was against me alone, not of my wife or of the prisoner—I never knew what time I should return at night—I found my dinner in the saucepan ready for me when I returned home that night—I had been out working the whole day—I had not been to the prisoner's house at all on that day—I worked for my brother—I went to his place of business in the morning at 70, Castle Road, Kentish Town; that is about five minutes from where I lived, and about five minutes from Priory Street—I went to my brother's that morning; I returned there a little before ten—during that time I had not seen my wife or been home—during all that time I had been removing furniture from different places; the first place was at 142, Clarence Place, Kentish Town; I left that about twelve or a little after; I then went to Cromwell Mansions, Earl's Court Road; I left there between twenty and half-past four—then I went to a coffee shop, I believe in Silver Street, Notting Hill Gate, and had tea—I did. not leave Cromwell Mansions till twenty minutes past four; I got to Silver Street about five as near as I recollect, it might have been a little to five—I stayed there from about twenty-five minutes to half an hour; I then came home to the shop in Kentish Town—Buckstone was with me then—I got back to my brother's a little before seven—I went direct from Silver Street to my brother's house—I had a horse and van; Buckstone was with me in the van—I did not remain at my brother's shop until ten; I went on another job immediately with Buckstone; not the whole time; I left him between half-past seven and twenty minutes to eight—the person I was removing came with me; Buckstone had left—all that time I had no communication with my wife.

Re-examined. It would take me about an hour and a half to go from; Silver Street' to my brother's place in Kentish Town—I have been shown a revolver found at 2, Priory Street—this is it (produced)—I believe it to be the same—it belongs to me; Mrs. Pearcey took it from a drawer in my room when my wife was showing her some things—there were also some cartridges; we were both standing at the drawer, and she asked if she might have it, as she was alone in the house; I said, "You would not know how to use it"—I was not aware then that she had taken it—I had bought it as a lad; I have not got it now; this is the one—the cartridges were in a box of this kind (produced)—I believe these are the cartridges—I believe this is the piece of paper which I found on the table when I came home to Prince of Wales Road:" Will not be long; quarter-past three "; that is my wife's writing—this revolver was taken before my wife was ill, when Mrs. Pearcey was making a call—my wife was present when she asked for it; I can't say that she—was present when she took it away—I was not there; I left the room and haft my wife and Mrs. Pearcey together, and the revolver—I am quite sure she asked my wife for the revolver, saying that she was lonely.

CLARA HOGG . Hive with my mother at 141, Prince of Wales Road—

my mother and I lived on the first floor—my brother, his wife, and child lived on the floor above—I have known the prisoner for three or four years; I have always been on friendly terms with her—I remember the illness of my brother's wife in February this year—at that time the prisoner was at the house in Prince of Wales Road, and nursed her—after February she ceased to visit her—she did not tell me why; I never discussed the matter with her; she, however, visited my mother and myself, and continued to do so, and did, in fact, visit us on Thursday evening, 23rd October; it was an ordinary visit—on Friday, 24th October, I saw my brother at nine in the morning, just before he went out—I saw the deceased, and talked to her, about ten that morning—I was in the house during the day, and my mother—I spoke to her on the staircase in our house—any person coming to see us would ring a bell, and I should answer it—there was also another bell for the top floor—I did not see anything of the boy that brought the note—about three in the after noon I saw the deceased leave the house, with the child in the bassinette; she turned to the right; that would be in the direction of Priory Street—that was the last time I saw her alive—on the following morning, from something my brother said, I went round to Priory Street about nine—the prisoner opened the door to me; I said, "Did she come here yesterday?"—I meant Phoebe—she said, "No"—I said, "Did not you see anything of her yesterday?"—she said, "No"—I went into the passage and into the bedroom, and I asked her again, and then she said, "As you press me, I will tell you; she did come here yesterday about five o'clock, and wanted me to mind baby a little while. I said I could not; she then asked me to lend her some money. I said I could not lend her any, as I had but a shilling and three-half pence in my purse"—she said, "I did not tell you this before, as she particularly asked me not to let anyone know she had been"—I asked her if she would come with me, and we should go to the Kentish Town Railway Station to see if she had booked the pram—that was in case she had gone to Chorley Wood—she said, "Wait a minute, I will put on my hat and jacket and come with you, "and she did so—I did not go further than the bed room; we then came out together; we walked to Prince of Wales Road, then she left me and said, "I will take the train and go on to Kentish Town"—about half an hour afterwards I saw her again at my home—she said she had scratched her hand in killing mice, and smeared her dresser all over; they ran about the kitchen in thousands—she stayed with me at Prince of Wales Road—I went downstairs, and Mrs. Barraud, the landlady, drew my attention to something in a newspaper—that was the first intimation I had of the murder—I went into the room where. the prisoner was, and spoke to her—I said, "Don't puzzle yourself; Mrs. Barraud has just told me of such a dreadful murder at Hampstead; and from the description I am afraid it is Phoebe"—she said, "Oh, no; Frank will bring her all right from Rickmansworth"—that is where Chorley Wood is—I said, "Will you get. a newspaper?" or she said, "I will get a newspaper," I forget which—I think she said, "I will get a newspaper;" and she went out and got one: she said, "Will you read the account?" and I took the paper and read the account aloud—it contained the account just as the landlady had said—I said, "I believe it is Phoebe"—she went out and got another paper—I read that; it was fuller; it made mention of the perambulator

—I said, "I feel sure it is Phœbe from the description;" I said I would go to the mortuary; she said, "Wait a little while and see if there was-any news from Frank"—I did wait a little while, and then I said, "I cannot wait any longer; I must go and see"—I asked her to go with me; I merely said, "Will you go with me?"—I think she said she would come, and she did come; we went to the Police-station, and the police took us to the mortuary—we went in together—I said, "I cannot recognise the face, but I am sure it is her clothing"—someone washed the face, and I recognised it—before the face was washed I think the prisoner said, "Oh, that is not Phoebe"—when the face was washed I said, "Oh, yes; it is her"—I touched her hand; Mrs. Pearcey had hold of my arm at the-time, and she dragged me, and said, "Oh, don't touch her"—I said, "Don't drag me; it is her, leave me alone, you go out"—I don't call to mind that she said anything more; we came away, and went to another station, and recognised the perambulator—we afterwards went back to Prince of Wales Road—I think the conversation in the mortuary was about twelve o'clock—when I saw her in the morning, and asked whether Phœbe had been there she did not remain in the room with me; she went out and pulled the door to behind her for a few minutes, and then came back to me.

Cross-examined. I do not know whether the door was really shut when she left—I was in the bedroom—she left the bedroom to go into the passage to speak to someone, leaving me inside; she seemed to speak to someone in the passage; it might be anyone who came in from the street;. I don't know whether the street-door was open at that time—I had only been in a few minutes—I did not hear the voice of the person in the passage distinctly, there was someone speaking, I should think it was a man; I could not be sure, I could hear the voice but not the words—I don't know whether the prisoner had hold of my and when we went into the mortuary to see the body—it was when we got up close to the body that she pulled me back—it really was a very dreadful shocking sight; I was very horrified at what I saw, I could not pay attention to anything that was going on—when at our room she-went out to fetch a paper—I gave her the street-door latch-key; when she returned she gave me back the key; we went to the station after that; she gave me back the key in the afternoon, before we went to the mortuary a second time with my brother and Mrs. Pearcey and a police officer; it was then I gave her the key, and it was not returned—Mr. Bannister showed it me at the police-station the first Saturday, and I recognised it as our key, it had a chain attached—we only had one key for the first floor and one for the second.

HENRY WILLIAM BUCKSTONE . I live at 22, Little King Street, Camden Town—I am a furniture porter—I remember Friday, 24th October—I was at work on that day for Frank Hogg's brother; Frank Hogg was working with me—we started on the job at ten in the morning from Clarence Buildings, Clarence Road, Kentish Town, that was where we went to load up—we went from there to Cromwell Mansions, South Kensington—I think we finished at Clarence Road about twelve or half past, and on the way to Cromwell Mansions, loaded, our shaft broke, in Robert Street, Hampstead Road—I should think that delayed us an hour and a quarter—I had to go to Kentish Town, and from there back again, with the cart; after the accident had been overcome we continued

our journey to Cromwell Mansions—we got there about four, it might be, I could not say exactly—Hogg had been with me the whole of the time, from the time we started at the house, and the lady and gentle man who had the goods rode with us in the van—we loaded the furniture there and proceeded on our way back to Silver Street, Notting Hill Gate; we stopped and had tea at the coffee-shop; I can't tell what time we left the coffee-shop; we got back to Kentish Town about a quarter-past seven; we went straight from the coffee-shop—then I started on another job—I had to go and assist Hogg while he had some men; they had to go for a nosebag, and I afterwards went with him to take the nosebag back—I went to Gospel Oak for the other job—I saw Hogg after that, loading up there, and I left him—the latest time I saw him that night was, I think, a quarter-past sevens—he was then loading up for the job to go to Leighton Road.

WILLIAM HENRY HOLMES . I live at 138, Prince of Wales Road—I am twelve years old—I remember on a Friday my mother sent me to a shop about eleven o'clock—coming back from the shop the prisoner asked me if I was going up the road—she asked me if I would take a note for her—I told her to wait a little time while I took my things in—I took my things in—I gave them to my mother—I came out again—I saw the prisoner again on the opposite side of the road—I went across to her—she asked me to take a note to 141, Prince of Wales Road, and ring the top bell, and I said, "All right"—she gave me a penny and the note—she said I was to be sure to give it to Mrs. F. Hogg—I went to 141—it was about one hundred yards—I rang the top bell—I gave a woman who opened the door the note—I went back—I saw the prisoner again in the Crogsland Road, and she beckoned me towards her—I went she asked me if I gave it to a tall elderly person with a fringe—I did not know, so I said, "Yes"—I mean I did not know what she meant—I had given the note to a tall woman—she said, "All right, thank you," and walked away—my mother was standing at the area steps.

Cross-examined. My mother was about fifty yards from me when this happened, further than the length of this Court—I walked towards my mother, the prisoner walked towards Chalk Farm—I rang the top bell; I had not seen the prisoner before—she wore a black jacket, brown skirt, and a dark blue felt hat—my father saw in the paper the boy was wanted who took the note—he read the account of the murder to me—I heard a young woman was charged with the murder—the paper said they could not find the messenger or the boy who took the note—I told my father I had taken the note to 141; that was the first time I told him about it—no one else had asked me—I had told Mr. Dancey; he is,. an agent for the Prudential Insurance Company—I do not remember when I told him, not after my father read the account to me, before that—I had heard of the murder before my father read it—my father first told me a young woman was charged with the murder—I was not told the prisoner lived in Priory Street—I saw the prisoner with about a dozen women at the station—I waited about ten minutes—there were no old women there—I looked at the others carefully—I looked all down the line—then I saw the prisoner—the prisoner's conversation only took a few minutes—she did not stop long—I should not know the woman again that I delivered the note to.

Re-examined. I knew the prisoner to pick her out by her hat and her face—I went in alone—when I came out my mother went in.

ELIZABETH ANN HOLMES . I live at 138, Prince of Wales Road—I remember on a Friday morning sending my son to fetch some things for me—he brought them back—it was about eleven o'clock—he said some thing, and went out again—I went and stood on the top of the area steps—I saw my boy speak to a woman—I saw her give him something—I saw my boy walk to Mrs. Hogg's, at 141—I saw the woman walking up and down—I saw my boy come back and speak to the woman again—I saw her walk away—I heard of the murder and the inquest—I and my son went to the Police-station—my son went into the room by himself—then I went in by myself—I picked out the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I swear the prisoner was the person who was talking to my son—it might be a little past eleven, not before—I did not know the prisoner—I did not speak to her—she was not within reach of my voice—my husband told me the boy was wanted who delivered the note—he read it, and my boy read it—we discussed what the woman was like—I said, "A woman gave my boy a note"—when my son read it, he said, "Mother, that's the number I took the note to"—I did not say much about it—I did not say what the woman was like, nor did my son—I thought if I saw her I was quite sure to pick her out—my son was nearer to her than I—he did not say what she was wearing—she wore a brown skirt, a dark jacket, and dark felt hat—I did not tell him what she was wearing—the prisoner was standing with others when I went in—I went in the room by myself—I misunderstood the question at the Police-court—I thought our room was meant—a policeman went in with me, but I did not go in with the boy—I did not pick her out by her dress, but by her features—she was dressed in a black skirt and cape when I picked her out—she had a different hat on altogether.

Re-examined. I corrected my first statement at the Police-court, and said, "My son went in first, and came out; it was after he had come out I went in."

EMMA BARRAUD . I am the landlady at 141, Prince of Wales Road—the deceased lived with her husband on the second floor, Clara Hargan on the first floor—there was a different bell for each floor—the bell for the second floor rang: on the second landing—I remember, about a fortnight before the murder, the prisoner calling—I had seen her there from time to time—I heard the first floor bell ring—Miss Hargan and her mother happened to be out—the deceased woman came down and opened the door—I heard talking in the passage—the prisoner went upstairs with the deceased—she remained a short time and left—on the Thursday or Friday before I heard of the murder I heard the top bell ring—I heard some one come and open the door—no one was in on the top floor except the deceased that I am aware of—the deceased never w»re a fringe, was not tall nor elderly—that description would only apply to Miss Hargan and myself—I was in the breakfast parlour, glanced up, and saw the boy leaving the door—I had seen the deceased at eight a. m., when I took the milk in—not after that hour.

ELIZABETH CROWHURST . I occupy the second storey of No. 2, Priory Street, Kentish Town—I lived there in October last—on Thursday, 23rd October, I received news of the illness of my daughter—I left home at 9.30 to go to see her at 231, Great College Street—I remained all night

with her—I got back the next day about seven—I live with my son "William Crowhurst—he is a carpenter.

Cross-examined. I went to bed about 10.30—I saw a light in the passage for a moment—I could not hear whether the door opened or not.

Re-examined. A light is mostly hung up in the passage—I could not say if it was that night, I did not leave my room—the light was on the ground floor—I could not say from which room—I did not look over the banisters—I saw it shine against the wall as if somebody was moving—I did not go out again.

By the COURT. It was in the prisoner's room—she knew I was at my daughter's—she saw me there on the Thursday—the prisoner went to my daughter's—that is not five minutes from where I live—my daughter asked her—she used to go into the shop at times, and she asked her to go and see the child—the baby—I did not mention to the prisoner I was not coming back—I do not know whether she knew it or not—she did not go with me—my daughter asked her to come and look at the child—that was whilst I was there—I saw her there—I do not think she knew I was going to sleep there, she might have guessed it.

WILLIAM CROWHURST . I am a carpenter—I reside with my mother at 2, Priory Street, on the first floor—I was at work on 24th October—my mother had been away all the week—I went to work about half-past eight—I was away all day—I returned home about a quarter to eight there was no light in the passage.—usually there was a lamp hanging on the wall to Tight the passage—I went to my room—I remained the whole evening—I only went to the backyard w. c. about half-past eight—it joins the scullery—coming back I noticed glass about the court yard; it had been knocked from the kitchen window—two panes were broken—the kitchen blind was down—it was green—it was usual to have it drawn at night—I noticed the lace curtains had been taken down from the kitchen window—I saw no light in Mrs. Pearcey's kitchen—the back-parlour window also looks out in the yard—if there had been a light in either of those rooms I must have seen it—the front room looks on to the street—I did not notice if a light was there, because I came down the street; if I had come up the street possibly I should have noticed it.

Cross-examined. I am uncertain in returning home—not in the middle of the day when I am at work—I have done so at five, six, seven, and eight.

Re-examined. The last three years I have been employed on buildings—if employed on buildings, may possibly be home about half-past five—during the last twelve months the average is about seven.

CHARLES BRITT . I live at Great College Street, Camden Town—I have a stable in Priory Mews—going from my stable to where I live I pass through Priory Street—on Friday, 24th October, coming from my stable I went along Priory Street in the afternoon about 3.30—the pavement is very narrow—I saw a bassinette across the pavement—a lady was standing with it, and knocking at No. 2—she was reaching from the perambulator across to the knocker, from the front of the bassinette across to the door—I went out in the street, and made an observation as I passed—I saw the door open—I saw some one come to the door—I

took it to be a lady—she had nothing on her head—she had something black round her shoulders.

Cross-examined. I fix the time because I bought a colt that day, and I had been home to dinner—I bought it in the morning—it was 3.30 when I was indoors—I looked at the clock—the mews is thirty or forty yards-from Priory Street.

CHARLOTTE PIDDINGTON . I am the wife of Charles Piddington—he is-employed on the Midland Railway—I live with him at 3, Priory Street, Camden Town—that is next door to the house occupied by the prisoner—I lived there in October last—I knew the prisoner very well—I have often been to see her in her room—on Tuesday, October 21, she lent me a wicker dress stand—on Friday I had done with it, and I wanted to return it—I looked over the wall—I put it over the fence in Mrs. Pearcey's premises, and called "Mrs. Pearcey "five or six times—there is a wooden fence between the yards at the back, about three feet high—I got no answer—I was in the habit of so calling her when I wanted to attract her attention—she usually answered me—the time was about between three and four—before I put it over I heard a smashing of glass—the sound seemed to come from downstairs—I was upstairs against the landing window on the first floor—when I had put the stand over I heard another smashing of glass as I was going in—I went back into the house, and stopped upstairs till about two or three minutes to four, when I came down—I also heard a child scream as I was putting the stand over the wall—it was a sound like a child in pain, or being hurt, or something—I came out into the garden again to fetch the clothes in because it was raining—the stand had gone—I did not look at the clock.

Cross-examined. I said between three and four at the Police-court. (Depositions referred to where the witness said between four and half-past)—it was not dark, it was daylight, when I went out—it was betwixt light and dark—you cannot see into Mrs. Pearcey's kitchen window—you can see the window.

SARAH BUTLER . I live at 2, Priory Street—my husband is a labourer—I occupy the second floor—I knew the prisoner—I had often been in her rooms—I knew Mr. Hogg as Mr. Pearcey—I had seen him frequently there—I have seen Mrs. Hogg there about three times—I remember about a fortnight before the 24th October seeing her there late in the afternoon—she was sitting in Mrs. Pearcey's front room—she had the perambulator—Mrs. Pearcey showed me the baby—she said it was her sister-in-law's—I think Mrs. Hogg heard it—I was on my landing, and Mrs. Pearcey said she would show me the baby, and called me down stairs—I had seen Mrs. Hogg there twice before that; three times altogether—Mrs. Pearcey never said on any other occasion who Mrs. Hogg was—on Friday, 24th October, I was at home in the morning—I saw Mrs. Pearcey in her kitchen—she was reading a novelette before the fire; that was between ten and eleven—she offered it to me; I did not take it—I saw a mouse on the dresser—T said, 4' Why don't you get a trap?"—she said, "I'll go and get one," and she went out and brought one in—the last time I saw her was near twelve o'clock that morning—I was up and down stairs—I went out about three in the afternoon—she was in the house then—Mrs. Crowhurst and her son were out all day—I came home about six p. m.—that is the time my husband

comes from his work—I get home a little before him—I let myself in with my key—I noticed it was dark—usually a light was in the passage—Mrs. Pearcey attended to it—I knocked! myself against a bassinette—that was close to the hall door—on the right as you come in—I saw Mrs. Pearcey against her front sitting-room door—I could not see whether there was a light in the room—she said, "Mind"—I said, "All right, I can feel what it is"—I passed it—in going towards the stairs I passed Mrs. Pearcey—she was dressed—she-had a hat on—I went upstairs—shortly afterwards I heard my husband come in—I had only got up the first flight of stairs—in about ten minutes I came down alone—I went along the passage to go out—the bassinette had gone—that was about ten minutes past six—I returned almost directly—I went out again—I came home the last time about 10.15—I saw nothing more of the prisoner that night—the next morning, Saturday, I came down about eight—I went through the back door—I noticed a good bit of burnt paper on the mat—in the yard I noticed two panes of the kitchen window broken—I went into the little washhouse at the end of the passage—the floor was swamped with water—I saw two zinc baths there, with a black apron over them—the apron appeared to be wet—it was spread out—I went back into the house—about 10.30 I came down again—I went into the washhouse—I saw a pair of long lace-curtains with some blood on them—I had seen them in the kitchen two or three days past—that morning I had heard the prisoner go from the bedroom to the back kitchen a little after eight—at that time (10.30) I looked into the copper—I saw a" pail half filled with water, and two cloths in it—there were marks on the cloths—I could not see what the marks were—I went upstairs after that—I stayed there till the police came.

Cross-examined. I was not living there at Christmas—Mrs. Hogg and Mrs. Pearcey appeared to be on good terms—it was about eleven when I was with Mrs. Pearcey—the passage was dark when I went in in the evening—I could not see anyone else there—her parlour door I think was shut—I am not quite sure—I could not see in her bedroom.

By the COURT. I felt the side of the bassinette—I had seen it there before.

Re-examined. I saw Mrs. Pearcey twice that morning—about ten o'clock the first time—when I spoke about the mouse-trap was the second time—meantime I had been attending to my work.

WALTER BUTLER . I am tie husband of the last witness—I live in Priory Street—on Friday, 24th October, I came home from work about 6 p. m.—I let myself in with my key—the passage was dark—the prisoner came from the back parlour, from the stairs—she said, "Mr. Butler, there is a bassinette in the passage, allow me to hand you by"—she toot hold of my hands while I passed the bassinette, and I thanked her, and went upstairs—she did not seem to speak the way she usually used to—she was dressed; she had her hat on—I did not come downstairs again till after seven—the bassinette was gone—when I came home at 10.15—that night I saw a light under the back kitchen door—there was no-light in the passage—the following morning I came down about 8.45—T heard voices in Mrs. Pearcey's bedroom—the prisoner came out—she shut the door behind her—she said, "Mr. Butler, could you give me any information what time it was last night when you came home when the

bassinette was in the passage?"—I said, "Between six and ten minutes past"—then I went out—she returned to the bedroom.

Cross-examined. I could see her face—I could see it was Mrs. Pearcey—I could recognise her by her speaking—the lamp opposite reflects into the passage—it is not immediately opposite—lower down in the passage it was perfectly dark—I could distinguish her features, because when I opened the street door she was coming along the passage—the conversation took place in the passage—there was more light when the street door was open than when shut—I could not see whether her parlour door was open—I could see the back bedroom door was not open—the kitchen door lies right back—I could not see unless there was a light there.

ELIZABETH ROGERS . I live at 7, Priory Place, with my husband, William Rogers, a bricklayer—I know the prisoner very well—I have done her mangling for about six months previous to 24th October—that week I never had any—on the evening of Friday, 24th October, I was turning out of Bonny Street into Priory Place a few minutes past six—I had to pass under a railway arch—before I passed the arch I saw the prisoner wheeling a bassinette perambulator in the middle of the road—it was very heavily loaded—it was covered over with some black stuff—it was higher at the head than at the handles—I was coming in the direction of her house—she was going the other way—when she saw me she dropped her head over the handles, and she had a difficulty in pushing it up the hill—the road is narrow at that spot—I looked round—she turned to the left—that would lead her into the Prince of Wales Road.

Cross-examined. I had seen her once or twice walking in Priory Place the week before this—she wore a green hat with green ribbon round, and a dust cloak—on this night she had a light ulster with buttons—I could not see a dark brown dress and black jacket; the ulster was buttoned—the hat looked green, not blue—the place is dark—I was at the kerbstone—nothing was said by either of us—the police spoke to me first about one o'clock two days afterwards—I have not picked her out.

Re-examined. I saw her once a week, when I took home her mangling—I did not go further than her street door, where she paid for it.

ANNIE GARDNER . I live at Crogsland Road, Kentish Town—that is close to the Prince of Wales Road—on Friday evening, 24th October, I was crossing the Crogsland Road, and going into the Prince of Wales Road, about half-past six—I saw a woman pushing a bassinette in the road in front of her—she had a difficulty in pushing it; it seemed heavily loaded—the Monday week after the murder I went to the Police station and picked the prisoner out from a line of women—the contents of the perambulator appeared to be covered with a black shawl.

Cross-examined. I had never spoken to the prisoner—I was walking close to the pavement—the prisoner was dressed in dark clothes—I am positive of that—a dark jacket—a black turned-up hat—it did not look like a blue hat, nor green; it looked black at night—I saw her face—I picked her out at once—she was in dark clothes then, and a turned-up green hat—I identified her by her face.

Re-examined. it looked like velvet at night—it was turned up at the back and the side.

SOMERLEA MACDONALD . I reside at Belsize Park, Hampstead—I am a clerk—on 24th October I was passing along Crossfield Road, Hampstead, about 7.10 p. m.; it was very dark—I noticed something lying by the side of the road—a house was being built there—it was a woman lying with her face covered—her face was across the path towards the road—I passed on, but walked back—I found the body still in the same position—in consequence of what I saw I went to Swiss Cottage Railway Station to find a policeman—I found Sergeant Gardner, who came back with me—I saw him lift the cover from the face of the body—from what I saw I went for a doctor—I fetched Dr. Wells to the spot—then I saw that the head was nearly severed from the body.

ARTHUR GARDNER (S 654). On 24th October, about 7.25, I was-spoken to by Macdonald—from what he said I went to Crossfield Road—I there saw the body of the deceased woman lying across the pathway on her back, with her head towards the road and her feet towards the wall—the face was covered with the Cardigan jacket which has been produced—on removing the jacket I saw a quantity of blood and that her throat was cut—Macdonald went for a doctor—I sent to the station, for an ambulance—Inspector Wright came—the body was removed.

THOMAS WRIGHT (Inspector S). On Friday evening, 24th October, about eight o'clock, I was on duty at Hampstead Police-station; I received a communication from a constable, in consequence of which I went to Crossfield Road, and there found the dead body of a woman lying on the pathway outside a building in the course of erection; the ground there was rather rough—the head of the body was towards the road, and the feet towards the hoarding; the right leg was perfectly straight, the left leg was drawn under the body, bent up at an angle; the right arm was extended, and the hand clenched—the left arm was drawn up above the shoulder—the face was covered with this brown Cardigan jacket—I waited there till Dr. Wells arrived; he examined the body—I then sent for the police ambulance and took the body away; it was taken to the Hampstead Station, and then to the mortuary.

ARTHUR POULET WELLS . I am a registered medical practitioner, and live at 3, Belsize Park, Hampstead—between a quarter past seven and a quarter to eight on Friday, 24th October, I was fetched by Macdonald to Crossfield Road, to see a woman supposed to be in a faint—I found the head practically severed from the body, and life extinct—I tested the warmth of the body; the legs being covered with petticoats were warm, the arms were not quite. cold—I should say life had not been extinct many hours, I don't think one can give a very definite judgment as to the warmth of a body, it depends very much upon how it is covered up—I cannot go further than I have done.

WILLIAM BROWN (Police Sergeant S). On the night of the 24th of October, about a quarter past eight, I searched about the spot where the body of the deceased was found in Crossfield Road—there were some bricks there which had marks of blood on them—on looking round the spot I found this brass nut—I was afterwards shown this perambulator, and found that the nut corresponded in every way with the nut of the wheel which is on it now—on 28th October, after the inquest on the bodies of Mrs. Hogg and the child, I took five parcels to Mr. Pepper—the first parcel contained the clothing of the child, the second contained the clothing of the prisoner, the third the carving-knife, the fourth an

iron poker, and the fifth a skin perambulator rug lined with red cloth, and an American cloth apron; I got them from Inspector Miller.

ELIZABETH ANDREWS . I am cook at 34, Hamilton Terrace, St. John's Wood—on Friday, 24th October, I was coming out of the house at half-past seven, and close to the gate I saw a bassinette perambulator—I went where I had to go, and returned about twenty minutes to nine and saw the perambulator still there; I noticed that the handle was broken; I have seen the perambulator since, this is the one.

JOHN ROSER (S 434). On 24th October, about half-past ten at night, I was on duty in Hamilton Terrace; my attention was attracted to a perambulator standing against the wall of 35; I went and looked at it; I found the handle was broken, there was a brown skin rug over it with a red cloth lining, I removed the rug, the perambulator was stained with blood, I took it and its contents to the station—I then found in it a waterproof apron, a piece of butter scotch in paper, and the steel part of the handle, and a piece of string—the perambulator was more closelyexamined by Inspector Holland—I saw that the articles had stains of blood on them.

JOHN HOLLAND (Inspector S). I was on duty at the station on the night of 24th October—I saw the perambulator when it was brought in—I made a close examination of it, and round the seat I found a quantity of partially congealed blood, some hairs were adhering to the side—I examined the rug and other articles in it; the blood on the rug was not dry—there was a considerable quantity—I afterwards handed the rug and the waterproof apron to Sergeant Brown, the hairs I handed to Mr. Bond.

OLIVER SMITH . I am a hawker—I now live between Barnet and St. Albans—at half-past six, on Sunday morning, 26th October, I was on some building land at the side of the Finchley Road; I was inside the hedge—my attention was attracted to something lying in some nettles; on looking at it I found it was the body of a child, it was lying face downwards—it was thoroughly dressed, with the exception of one boot and sock; I at once went to the police; a constable came back, and the body was taken to the police-station.

JAMES DICKERSON (S R 54). At half-past seven, on Sunday morning, 26th October, I was spoken to by the last witness; I went with him to a field by the side of the Finchley Road, and he pointed out the body of a child lying in the nettles inside the hedge, five or six yards from the foot way; I sent for Dr. Biggs, and the body was taken to the Hampstead. Mortuary.

JOHN MAUNDY BIGGS . I am a registered medical practitioner at Child's Hill—on the morning of 26th October, about eight, I was called by a constable to see the body of this child; it was about five or sis yards from the road; it was lying on its left side with its head bent on its breast—the body was stiff and cold.

EDWARD NURSEY (Police Sergeant S). On Saturday, 25th October, I was on duty at the Hampstead Police-station, when Clara Hogg and the prisoner came there about eleven a. m.; Clara Hogg spoke to Inspector Bannister, and said they had come to see the body of the woman that had been found—I accompanied them to the mortuary—Inspector Bannister was inside with them; I remained at the door till. they came out—I then took them to Portland Town Police-station,

where they were shown the perambulator, the rug, and a piece of oil cloth—Clara said, "Yes, that is hers;" the prisoner said nothing—I then took them to 141, Prince of Wales Road, where they saw Inspector Bannister—I then went with Frank Hogg, Clara Hogg, and the prisoner to Hampstead Station again, and shortly afterwards I went with the prisoner to 2, Priory Street—I walked there with her—that was in con sequence of instructions from Inspector Bannister—the prisoner opened the street door with a key, and showed me first the front room; it was locked—she unlocked it—nothing passed then; I looked round; we then passed into the room adjoining, used as a bedroom; she unlocked that—there was nothing there that appeared unusual—she then unlocked the door of the back kitchen behind the bedroom; that room was dark, caused by a green blind being pulled down; I tried to pull it up by the cord, but it would not act—I pulled the blind on one side, and saw that two panes of glass were broken—I noticed what appeared to be marks of blood on the panes; the walls appeared to be in a similar condition, blood spots—the hearthrug was saturated with paraffin—as to the panes of glass, the prisoner said to me, "I was trying to catch some mice, and broke them—I then said, "I believe you saw her yesterday"—she said, "I know, I should have told you before this; she called about six o'clock and asked me to take care of the child, and wanted some money, but she did not come inside. I told Clara about it, and she said I had better not say anything about it, as it would seem a disgrace to ask for money"—she was very much agitated when I said, "I believe you saw her yester day, "and her voice trembled; she was not so calm as she had been during the prior part of the day—I was accompanied by Detective Parsons—in consequence of what I saw at the house I left Parsons in charge, and went out and sent a telegram to the station; shortly afterwards Inspector Bannister came, and I was present during the time the premises were searched; I assisted in the search, and I was present when Bannister arrested the prisoner.

Cross-examined. When the prisoner and Clara Hogg went to the mortuary the body of the deceased was inside; I remained outside; I went from the mortuary to the station, then to 141, Prince of Wales Road, and then to Hampstead Station; about four hours elapsed between the time the prisoner saw the body at the mortuary and going to Priory Street—she unlocked the rooms there, and showed me over the rooms—when her voice was agitated, that was the first time the deceased's name was mentioned in the house; it might have been mentioned in the previous conversation.

EDWARD PARSONS (Detective S). On the 25th October I went with Nursey from the Hampstead Police-station to 2, Priory Street—while lie went out to send a telegram I was left alone with the prisoner in the front room—she said, "I have not told a lie" (that was with reference to what she had said to Nursey, when he said, "I believe she was here")—she said, "She did come here about six o'clock, and asked me to lend her two shillings, and to mind the child. I told her I could not lend her the money, as I had none, and could not mind the child, as I was going out. I told Clara of this, but she advised me to say nothing about it, as it would be such a disgrace if people thought Frank kept her short of money"—some time after, in the same room, she said, "I do not enjoy very good health; on Thursday night when I

came home my nose bled violently"—I made no answer to that—after that Mr. Bannister arrived—on 30th October I assisted him and Sergeant Nutkins in searching Priory Street, and I was given certain articles found there to take to Mr. Pepper, which I did, also a piece of hair, which I took from the deceased's head at a later period; I also took some clothes and some rags, which were stained with blood.

Cross-examined. Nursey had gone out to send the telegram when I had the conversation with the prisoner; she volunteered the statement in consequence of what Nursey had just said.

CHARLES NUTKINS (Police Sergeant Y). I assisted Inspector Bannister in the search he made of the house in Priory Street on 30th and 31st October—in the front parlour behind a tea-tray on the sideboard I found a very sharp-pointed knife; I also found a tin box containing pin-fire cartridges beside the knife—I saw Bannister find the revolver in the dresser drawer in the kitchen; the cartridges exactly fitted the revolver—in a black box in the bedroom I found this large white envelope, containing a number of letters and notes; I produced them at the Police-station, and I produce them here: these are the originals, and these are my copies.

Cross-examined. On the sideboard where the knife was found there was crockery and a number of other things—the knife was in the box containing the cartridges; they were not in the same room as the revolver;, that was not loaded—I found a grey skirt; I examined that; there was no blood on it.

By the JURY. There was a wicker dress stand in the kitchen.

SARAH SAWTELL . I am employed as a female searcher at Kentish Town Police-station—On Saturday, 25th October, about twenty-five minutes past seven in the evening, I received instructions to search the prisoner, who was then in custody on this charge—while searching her she said, "I met Mrs. Hogg accidentally in the Kentish Town Road on the Wednesday afternoon; she passed me by and took no notice of me. On the Thursday I wrote a note to her, and gave it to a boy, who was to wait for an answer; it was to invite Mrs. Hogg to tea on the Friday afternoon"—I said, "Did she come on the Friday afternoon?"—she said, "Yes, between four and a quarter past, and as we were having tea Mrs. Hogg made some remark which I did not like; one word brought up another," and she then made a stop, and said, "Perhaps I had better say no more," that was all that was said—acting on my instructions, I took off the clothes she had on, and provided her with other garments; I gave the clothes I took off to Inspector Bannister.

Cross-examined. I first told this conversation to Inspector Anderson on the following Thursday—I had not made a note of it in the meantime—I do not know whether I thought it important or not, it came out accidentally to Inspector Anderson—I had occasion to go to the station to search a prisoner, and after I had my name put down in a book, Mr. Anderson and myself were talking about it, and then it was I told him—I did not tell Inspector Bannister, because I did not see him, that is the reason I did not tell him—I remember the night I searched the prisoner giving the clothes to Inspector Bannister; he was there, and took the things from me—I only saw him when I was giving him the clothes, that was immediately after I had searched her—I took the clothes to him, and he told me to go back to the prisoner—I had had the conversation with her before I took the clothes to him—I knew

that the prisoner was charged with the murder of Mrs. Hogg in her house—I heard the charge read to her—I have been a searcher about five years or more—I had never been in such a case before—I don't know exactly the meaning of the word "important"—yes, I do know—I did not exactly know that the words were of some importance—I did not know what to think—I did not tell Mr. Bannister, because I was instructed to keep talk to myself, I was to take notice of what the prisoner said, and on no account to tell anyone else—if I was to tell no one, of course I thought I was to keep it to myself—I was told to tell no one—I told Anderson because it came out quite accidentally; I was very sorry afterwards that it did; I meant to keep it secret; it was my duty not to tell it to the Inspector—I thought perhaps I should have seen Mr. Bannister, and if I had I should have told him—I believed it to be my duty not to tell any one; if Mr. Bannister had asked me I should have told him when I gave him the clothes, but I had not time; he took the clothes from me and told me to go back to the prisoner; if I had had time I should have told him there and then—I did not see him between Saturday and Thursday; I made no endeavour to find him—I had not heard all about the case between this and Thursday; I had not heard anything about it; I had had no papers—I am continually at the station—I never discussed the case or heard anything about it; I had not been near the station from the Saturday when the prisoner was charged till the following Thursday; I had been home; I had had no searching at all to do—I am called in when there is anybody to search—I am in constant communication with the police—when I searched the prisoner there was nobody stationed at the door of the cell; there was no policeman there; there was one there after I had done with the prisoner; there was a policeman stationed at the door; he was there when I went back; the door was very nearly closed when I searched her.

Re-examined. I live at 16, Falkland Place, Kentish Town—I only go to the station when I am sent for—I received my instructions from Inspector Bannister.

By the JURY. I can read and write.

THOMAS BANNISTER (Police Inspector S). On 24th October I took charge of this case, and have had the conduct of the inquiries connected with it—the persons acting in it have acted under my instructions—on Saturday morning, 25th October, a little after eleven, the prisoner came with Clara Hogg to the mortuary where the body of the deceased was—Sergeant" Nursey brought them to me, and said something to me—I took them into the mortuary and showed them the body—the prisoner said at once, "Oh, that is not her"—Clara looked at the clothing and said, "It is her clothing, but I don't recognise her features"—I took them outside the door and said, "Surely, if she is a relation, and you have been living together, you can form some reliable opinion as to whether she is the person"—the prisoner said, "I am no relation, I am only a friend"—I said, addressing them both, "When did you see her last?"—the prisoner said, "I have not seen her for several days"—Clara said "he left home yesterday afternoon at three o'clock"—I took them back to have another look at the body—Clara again expressed a doubt—the prisoner immediately took hold of her arm and dragged her from the body—Clara said, "Don't drag me"—I then got them to turn their

heads whilst Mr. Bond washed the blood from the face; it was very much smeared with blood—Mr. Bond was in the room all this time—he could not hear the conversation about how long it was since they had seen her; that was outside the door—I don't think he could have heard that—he might, I don't know—I took them out and brought them in again—I got them to look again, and Clara said at once,' "Yes, that's her"—the prisoner seized hold of her arm again and dragged her away!—Clara again said, Don't drag me, "and I said to the prisoner, "Don't drag her; she can bear it if you leave her alone," meaning that she could bear the shock—I then sent them to Portland Town Police-station with Sergeant Nursey, and I went on to 141, Prince of Wales Road with Superintendent Beard and Mr. MacNaughton—I there saw Hogg, and searched his lodgings, and those of his mother and Clara—whilst there Clara and the prisoner returned from the mortuary—I should say I also searched Hogg's person, and upon him I found this key, which is the door-key of the prisoner's residence; I then had Hogg, Clara, and the prisoner taken to the Hampstead Police-station for convenience in making the inquiry; whilst there I said to the prisoner, I think it is desirable to search your lodging; I suppose you have no objection?"—she said, "Oh no, not the slightest, "and she gave me the keys of the rooms—I had at that time, as she knew, the latch-key, which I have just produced—she was present when I searched Hogg and found the key upon him, and heard him tell me it was the latch key of 2, Priory Street—a short time afterwards I called Nursey into the same room (I had been out of the room), and the prisoner jumped up and said, "I should like to go with them, because I don't think they will be able to get in"—I said, "I was going to suggest to you that you could go if you liked," and the prisoner and the two officers then left—about half an hour afterwards, according to arrangement, I received a telegram from Nursey, and I then went to 2, Priory Street—I saw the prisoner sitting in an arm-chair in the front parlour; I went into the kitchen, and there I saw that the two panes" of the kitchen window were broken; the walls and the ceiling were bespattered with blood, and I found this poker (produced) it appeared to have blood just in the crevice, and it also appeared to have some hairs on the top of it—these two carving knives were in the dresser drawer, one being stained with blood; there was no blood on the other—in a bonnet-box in the bedroom I found this card-case with one card in it, with" S. H. Hogg "on it, and I found this cigar-case with four cigarettes—in the kitchen I found a black skirt and an apron; they had marks on them of what appeared to be blood; the apron had the appearance of having been washed; on the front parlour table I also found this purse, containing ten shillings in silver, sixpence-halfpenny in bronze, and a duplicate, with the name of Ann Pearcey on it—it is the practice of pawn brokers to put almost any Christian name—the state of the kitchen was seen next day by Mr. Bond—I took the knives and the poker into the parlour where the prisoner was—she then commenced to whistle; she was still sitting in the chair—she was not whistling tunes, she was whistling to herself—I then went upstairs and saw the other inmates of the house; I spoke to them and took statements from them—I thon returned to the room where the prisoner was; she was still whistling—I said to her, "I am going to arrest you for the wilful murder of

Mrs. Hogg last night, and also on suspicion of the wilful murder of the female child of Mrs. Hogg"—she jumped up out of the chair and said, "You can arrest me if you like, I am quite willing to go with you, I think you have made a great mistake"—she handed me this key and said, "This is the key of 141, Prince of Wales Road, Clara gave it to me to-day"—I then took her in a cab to Kentish Town Police-station; on the way she said, "Why do you charge me with this crime?" I said, "On account of the evidence"—she said, "Well, I would not do such a dreadful thing, I would not hurt any one"—she was wearing gloves at the time; I told her to take them off at the police-station—I noticed that her hands were very much scratched and torn about—they were seen by Mr. Bond next day—her clothes were handed to me by the female searcher; I directed her to search her, and gave her directions as to what she was to do, and the prisoner was supplied with other clothes; she was charged at the station; she made no statement there—on 30th October I went to the house again and found there a number of articles which were afterwards submitted to Mr. Bond and Mr. Pepper—I saw a pair of lace curtains in a bath in the wash-house, they were stained with blood—I made a very complete search of the rooms and also of the place outside and of the ash-pit—in the fire-place under the copper I saw a number of novelettes partially burnt; they were quite matted together with blood—all the contents of the kitchen were seen by Mr. Bond—in the dust-bin I found this button, it was among the ashes—I saw the jacket on the body of the deceased the night the body was found, one of the buttons was missing from the right arm of that jacket—this is the jacket (produced)—it is in two pieces—it was cut in order to take it off the body—the button on the left sleeve is still on it; it is exactly of the same pattern and size as the one found in the dustbin—I did not take the prambulator that was found at Hamilton Terrace to Priory Street; I got one exactly like it it could certainly be taken along the passage into the kitchen; to look at it I thought it could not be done, but I wheeled the one exactly like it into the kitchen—there is a curve in the passage just by the kitchen door; it is a very narrow passage, but wider than the bassinette—I experimented with the perambulator that was found as to whether it would bear the weight of the body—one of these knives is very sharp; subsequently, on the 30th, I found this small carving knife in the dresser drawer—one of the knives is a small carver, and one is a dessert knife, that has blood stains; it is very sharp—I also found a portion apparently of a burnt hat or bonnet under the kitchen fireplace among the ashes; these are the charred remains of the outside—the hat of the deceased has not been found—the things I found in the kitchen, except this portion of the hat, have been seen either by Mr. Bond or Mr. Pepper.

Cross-examined. These are ordinary table knives—the conversation that took place at the Hampstead Mortuary depends entirely on my own memory; I did not take a note of it, it was heard by others—I examined the grey skirt that was found in the prisoner's bedroom—I could find no traces of blood on it; I examined it for the purpose of seeing if there was any blood.

THOMAS BOND . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, and am lecturer on Forensic Medicine at Westminster Hospital—I live at 7, the Sanctuary, Westminster—I was communicated with in reference to this

matter by the police on the morning of 25th October, and in consequence I went to the mortuary at Hampstead between eleven and twelve; I was there shown the body of the deceased woman, and made an external examination of it—the scalp was very much broken at the back—the bones of the skull wore fractured, and some of the fragments penetrated the brain—the throat was cut, and the spinal column was divided, so that the head was adherent to the body only by the muscles at the back of the neck and by some skin—those cuts had been made during life, or immediately after death—the skin and muscles were much retracted from the cut; that would indicate that the cut had been made either during life, or very soon afterwards, while the body was still warm—there was a bruise on the forehead, and a cut on the forehead, and I also-found on the right forearm, in front, a large ragged cut, which appeared to have been done by glass—I formed the opinion that the scalp had been first injured there was a large quantity of matted blood all over the hair, and great extravasation of blood under the scalp—I was present at the post-mortem examination made by Mr. Pepper—in my opinion the cause of death was the fracture of the skull and the cut throat—the fracture of the skull alone was enough to cause death, but I do not think it would have caused death immediately—the poker produced is such an instrument as might have caused the fracture—there might or might not be convulsions as the result of such a blow—I think there were convulsions, because the motions and faces had passed on to the clothes; that would ordinarily occur in convulsions; I did not see that, I was told by one of the doctors in attendance that that had occurred—the cuts on the throat must have been made by more than an ordinarily sharp knife—there was one fracture on the skull cap which was oblong in shape, and when I compared it with the round part of the handle of this poker, it corresponded as nearly as I should expect a fracture through a bone to correspond—on the 26th October I went to 2, Priory Street, and there examined the back kitchen—I saw where the panes of glass were broken; they were apparently broken from the inside; the fragments had all fallen on the" outside—there were splashes of blood on the panes that remained in the window—I examined the glass that had fallen outside I found one spot on a fragment which had fallen outside; but I found two spots and a little streak on the broken glass which remained in the pane that was outside—the ceiling and walls of the kitchen were splashed with blood, and the different articles in the kitchen had spots-of blood on them—it was not such blood as would be produced by spurting from an artery; they were round is spots, similar in shape to splashes of mud that you see on walls or windows, such as might be caused by striking with some heavy instrument—I took away some pieces-of the ceiling with marks of blood upon them—I saw some lace curtains there with blood on them; I took away a part; also pieces of drugget and floor-cloth; I saw blood on them at the time—I examined the poker at the time and afterwards; there appeared to be a little blood in the crack by the handle, and on the shaft there were very faint hairs adhering, as if it had been rubbed with a bit of flannel; they were not human hair; they were very small; I could hardly see them; I had to hold them up to the light to see them—the floor of the room appeared to have been recently cleaned or attempted

to be cleaned, and some of the articles of clothing in the kitchen showed signs of having been recently washed—I did not find any blood in the passage; I looked in the passage, and in the front room, I found no blood—on 26th October I saw the prisoner at Camden Town Police-station and examined her hands; on the right hand I found scratches on the backs of the second and third fingers, and on the third finger there was also an abrasion of the skin—the scratches were about half an inch long—on the left hand there were three abrasions on the back of the thumb, and on the back of the little finger of that hand there was a scratch and abrasion, and on the front of the little finger opposite the last joint there was an abrasion deep and ragged—those wounds were all recent, they might have been caused by glass or any hard substance; some of them looked like the marks of finger-nails—the hands were not swollen, and I noticed no injuries about the wrists—the hands of the Prisoner were strong, well-shaped hands—I saw the bassinette perambulator on the Sunday—there was a large quantity of blood on the inside of it; I saw some hairs adhering to the lining—I examined those hairs with some hairs taken from the head of the deceased, they corresponded in colour and microscopic appearance; I afterwards examined them with a microscope of more power, and they corresponded in size, colour, and general appearance—the body of the deceased was that of a woman about thirty; I did not measure her, but I thought her height was about five feet six; that was the impression I formed—I think the bassinette would take the body of the deceased, by doubling up, of course; the severing of the head would facilitate its being placed there; it would allow of the head being doubled under or over the to-day, so as to shorten it to that amount—the deceased appeared to be a woman in good health, and well developed.

Cross-examined. I did not try the weight of the body with her clothes on; I should form an estimate it would be between nine and ten stone, that is a heavy weight—a person of that weight, dead, or insensible I do not think would be heavier than a person in their senses, it depends upon how the parts fall about—I have seen all the knives, and examined them; one of the knives I do not remember to have seen, that is the knife found behind the tea-tray in the front parlour; the others are all ordinary knives—the blow from the poker on the back of the head forced some of the skull into the brain—that must have been a blow of considerable violence, great force, must have been used to almost sever the head; to a great extent it depends on the instrument used; it cut through a bit of the vertebrae.

By the COURT. There is only one knife which I thought capable of. doing it (pointing it out)—I have not seen this little one, I did not find blood on that; the big one is the one I found blood on—this other I found no blood on, that is the smaller carving knife—I saw that directly after, when I went into the kitchen on the 26th—I don't think the large knife would be capable of inflicting the cut on the throat, it is so blunt.

Re-examined. There would be no difficulty in washing off the blood—I do not think the smaller of the carving knives would have been capable of inflicting the wound—either of the other two I think might.

THOMAS BANNISTER (Re-examined). I was present when the largest of

these knives was found in a dresser drawer in the kitchen—the marks of blood were only on one of the knives—I am not able now to say for certain on which, it was one of these two; the second one was found in the same place at the same time—I was present when the third knife was found on the 30th, that was also in the dresser drawer—that had what appeared to me to be blood upon it—the blood on the large knife was very apparent, that on the small knife was merely superficial—the other knife was found by Nutkins—I did not see any blood on the little one.

CHARLES NUTKINS (Re-examined). I found this knife on the 31st on the sideboard in the front parlour, behind the tea-tray; there was no sign of blood on it then.

WILLIAM CLACKWORTHY . I am an undertaker, of 92, High Street, Camden Town—before the burial of the deceased, at the request of Inspector Bannister, I weighed the body, head and all; it weighed, without the clothes, 118 lbs.; that would be 8 stone 6 lbs.—the child weighed 18 lbs.—I should say the height of the woman was about 5 feet 7; it was difficult to tell exactly, on account of the head.

AUGUSTUS JOSEPH PEPPER . I am a Master of Surgery of the University of London and am an F. E. C. S.—I was instructed to make a post-mortem examination of the body of Phœbe Hogg; I did 60 on 26th October, in the presence of Mr. Bond and another medical gentleman; I have my notes of it—I found on the left side of the head at the back part two lacerated wounds near together, each about two inches long, and beneath those wounds the skull was smashed in, and fragments of the bones had penetrated the brain; about two inches in front of this there was a smaller wound in the scalp, and the bone was broken beneath that; the brain was not injured there—on the right side of the head, near the front, was a wound in the scalp, very much like the other; the bone was not broken there—there was a very largo bruise over the left eyebrow, and several small wounds about the face, and numerous bruises on both hands and wrists, and on the front of the left forearm there was a jagged incised wound—the head was nearly severed from' the body—the cuts had been made with a sharp instrument, made from left to right, and from below upwards—in my opinion the wound in the throat had been produced during life; there is no doubt about that I think—there was no blood in the heart, or very little, just a trace, and scarcely any blood in the internal organs, showing how much had been lost from the body, showing that bleeding had gone on, which will not take place after death—any one of the wounds on the scalp would be likely to cause unconsciousness almost immediately—one of them was on the left side; the one on the back part would certainly do so immediately, because it had driven the bone into the brain—that un consciousness would very likely be accompanied with convulsions, particularly so on account of that portion of them which was injured—it is quite impossible that any of those injuries could have been self-inflicted—the wounds on the left side must have been inflicted by the person standing a little at the side, but the position must have varied with other of the wounds—as to one of them, the person must have been standing behind and at the side—it is quite impossible to form an opinion as to the order in which the blows were given—I think all of them were inflicted during life, speaking of the wounds on the scalp, because there

was so much blood extravasated into the scalp, and beneath that a very large quantity of blood had been extravasated—I have examined these knives; I do not think this one could have inflicted the wound in the throat—I tried this myself on the bone where the head was nearly severed from the body; a portion of one of the vertebrae was cut off, sliced off; I tried this knife immediately above the cut place, and I could not succeed in making a similar wound—I say the same as regards this other knife—I don't think it possible that either of those knives could have done it—I think this (another marked C) might possibly have done it, but I should say doubtful; it is sharper than the others—this one found in the front parlour I have not seen before; this is very dull except at the end, it is sharp there—I don't think that would make the sort of wound—the organs of the body were healthy, with one exception, there was a very large abscess in the pelvis, behind the womb, that had been forming for some months—that would diminish vitality, and would weaken the person very much—the chief cause of death was the hemorrhage—I also made a post-mortem examination of the body of the child—I think it died either from smothering, or from exposure to cold—I was shown the perambulator on the same day—there was a large quantity of dried clotted blood inside—there were numerous hairs attached to it, some human hairs, and some not—I compared those with some 'of the deceased's hairs, they wore as nearly alike as could be—it is almost impossible to say that they came from the same person—I examined the clothing of the child—I found no blood on that—if the child had been dressed as I saw it, it could not have been in the perambulator, unless it was wrapped up in something—the perambulator was literally covered with blood, and there was not a spot of blood on the child's clothing—a number of sealed parcels were handed to me for the purpose of analysis—they contained in all thirty-five distinct articles—I found blood on most of them—I examined the poker—I found just a trace of blood in the crevice of the handle, and in the lower part of the shaft a mere trace—in parcel number two there was a black cloth jacket said to be removed from the prisoner; on that there was a small blood spot just above the left pocket—I cut it out for analysis; all I can say is that it was the blood of a mammal; I can not say that any of the hairs were human; there was a small stain on the left sleeve—there was no blood on the brown petticoat; there were blood stains on the red flannel petticoat, and those might be reasonably caused naturally—there were no stains on the black-and-white striped petticoat—on the dark striped dress body there were blood stains in four places, washed or wiped stains; I found they were blood by the micro-scope, and, a better test still, I obtained blood crystals from them—on the white cotton bodice there was a very small blood stain in front; there was no appearance of washing; this was very minute indeed; it might be produced by a scratch from a pin; on the white chemise there were no blood stains; on this light or white grey skirt there was a quantity of blood, numerous blood spots and stains; I cut the greater part of it out for the purpose of analysis; there was a big blood spot here, and numerous spots and stains and patches on the right side and left side, and on the flounce; these all looked as though they had been splashed or smeared with diluted blood, evidently not blood intact—on this dark striped skirt there were slight stains, on the frill of the foundation—on

the skin perambulator rug lined with red cloth there was a large quantity of blood, and on the apron a largo quantity of clotted blood—these two articles were removed from the kitchen, a black striped apron and a black alpaca dust coat; there was blood on both those—altogether there were twenty-eight articles upon which I found blood.

Cross-examined. The articles which the prisoner was wearing upon which I found blood were the black cloth jacket, only a small spot, the dark body, the brown petticoat, the red flannel petticoat, and the black-and-white striped petticoat—on the dark dress body there were four stains; that on the white body was scarcely worth considering; on the light skirt there was a small quantity of clotted blood; all these articles were found on the prisoner—the deceased was suffering from an abscess, and was not in a very strong condition; I have heard that it was her habit to wheel the baby out in the perambulator every day; to do that a person must have fair strength—the knife by which I say the cut might be done is not jagged in any way, neither of the two knives—I should not expect to find it jagged in cutting through the bone; the bone varies very much; the part cut through is very soft and very porous; I don't think it would make any or very little difference whether it was done by a person skilled in surgery or not.

MRS. BARRAUD (Recalled). The deceased did not wear a fringe; only Miss Hogg and myself that could answer the description of a tall, elderly person with a fringe.


NEW COURT.—Monday, December 1st, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-44
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

44. FRANK BRADLEY (45) AND JAMES STELFOX (56) , Forging and uttering an order for £5 15s.

MRSSRS. MUIR and A. GILL Prosecuted; and MRSSRS. WILLES and TYERELL Defended Stelfox.

JAMES ELLIS . I live at 15, Dunstan Street, Haggerstone—I am fore man to Mr. Meek, timber merchant, at Hackney—on 4th October the prisoners came to our yard—Stelfox looked out some wood to buy—he asked me if I could give him change for this cheque—the value of the wood was nearly £4, I cannot say exactly—it was to be delivered by our man. (On the London Trading Bank, Limited, by Currie and Walmer to J. Stelfox for £5 15s)—he said Bradley knew the people; they were good for £1,000, and as safe as the Bank of England—I asked the address, and he said, Eldon Street, Finsbury, and that it was all right—Mr. Meek gave them the change in my presence; I cannot recollect the amount—I saw the cheque endorsed; it was returned, marked "No account," and I saw the prisoners about it—we held the cheque over from the Saturday till the following Friday; it was returned on the Tuesday, and I went to Stelfox on the Wednesday—I told him the cheque had been returned; he said ho rather expected it would, and "Bradley told me to tell the timber people if the cheque should come back to hold it over for a few days, and the money would be there"—then he said, "I suppose you look to me for the money?"—I said, "Certainly we do, for we can't find these people—he said, "I will come down; you will have to see my

governor"—he promised to come the next day, and came, and promised to pay £1 a week, and the following Saturday he came and paid £1, and I think he laid out 30s. besides—on the following Thursday I think he paid 15s., and laid out 30s. again—the wood was delivered, which he paid the cheque for—we inquired, and could not find the name of Currie L „ and Walmer in Eldon Street.

Cross-examined by MR. TYRRELL. I have known Stelfox about twenty-six years—I have done business with him—I have had other cheques from him—those have been right—only the endorsement is Stelfox's—I asked him if the people were all right—then he passed the question on to Bradley.

Cross-examined by Bradley. When Stelfox asked you, you might have said, "Yes, perfectly right; I have had two from the same bank."

FREDERICK COOKE . I keep the Bishop Blaize public-house, New Inn Yard, Shoreditch—on 27th September Bradley brought me this cheque. (Drawn by W. R. Morris on the London Trading Bank, payable to H. Bradley, for £3 3s)—he asked me about changing it for him—I said I did not care about doing it—Stelfox said it was all right, that Morris's were as right as the Bank of England, and worth thousands—I had seen Bradley several times—I knew Stelfox—I cashed the cheque—Bradley said he. got it from a man for selling four tables—he showed me a note to show. that he had got some more to do for the same man—the cheque came back marked" No account"—Bradley endorsed it in my presence—I tried to find Bradley, but did not succeed informed the police—I saw Stelfox after I cashed the cheque, but not after it was dishonoured—the day before it came back Stelfox said the cheque was sure to come back as Bradley had been to see him, and he said he (Bradley) would come down on the Saturday and pay a sovereign, and the rest at 10s. a week—he did not come—I saw Stelfox again—he said a man named Charles Prior would call on the Thursday and pay me the money—I waited in, no one came—I have not been paid—I inquired, but found no trace of W. K. Morris—I told Stelfox so—he said he thought Morris belonged to the people in the Curtain Road.

Cross-examined by MR. TYRRELL. I have known Stelfox several years as a customer—I have changed cheques for him—they have been right—I believe I said at the Police-court Stelfox said Morris's were worth thou sands, and safe as the Bank of England; no, I do not believe I did—I know nothing about the practice of cabinet-makers.

FREDERICK MILLER . I live at 12, Downham Road—I am employed by Bradley—on Friday, 26th September, I saw a Mr. Coutts in his shop—I did not hear what was said—I saw Coutts writing on a piece of paper. something like a cheque—I do not know Morris—I had seen Coutts in the shop before—he was done no work for twelve months—four tables were made, and I believe on the Saturday some were sold to Mr. Fit by Bob Thompson, a commission agent, for 10s. or 11s.—I do not know of any cheques being received that day—I do not know Splinter, nor Currie and" Walmer.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I am an apprentice—the working cabinet-makers make up stuff and sell it to the wholesale firms—they sometimes receive cheques, but our work was never large enough for a cheque, it was never much more than £1—I have known Coutts a long while by his coming to the shop.

Cross-examined by Bradley, I came to you the beginning of last winter—I heard you say, "Endorse the back"—I was taken up for assault, and bound over for six months.

ROBERT THOMPSON . I am an agent, of 42, Cooper Street, City Road—about the end of December I sold for Bradley two tables to Mr. Fits, of New Inn Yard—Fits paid me 24s—I gave Bradley 22s. in money—the boy took one—Stelfox was with Bradley when I found the money.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. Small workmen make up work in the week and sell it to the wholesale firms—I sell it for them—the wholesale firms pay cheques if the amount is large enough—the small men do not club together to sell their work, I sell for each individually—the men have no banking account—they take the cheque to a publican to get it changed, or pay it away to a timber merchant or other tradesman—some of the publicans keep money for that purpose—Morris and Austin are well-known people in Worship Street, and easily found—their cheques are right for thousands.

Cross-examined by Bradley. I sold work for you several times—I always received the discount—I have known you so pressed as to pledge your goods.

GEORGE BERRY . I keep the Devonshire Arms, 114, Pitfield Street—on 30th September a woman brought me this cheque to change. (Drawn by J, S. Splinter on the London and Trading Bank, Limited, for £3 3s., payable to A, Bradley or Order)—I changed it—I knew Bradley as a customer—I paid it into the bank—it was returned marked "No account"—I sent for Mr. Bradley five or six times; eventually he came—he said he received the cheque for four tables his boy had sold the previous Saturday—I was not paid—after a deal of trouble I saw him again at home.

Cross-examined by Bradley. You did not come to me directly—you asked me to take the money for the cheque, but I did not get it.

SARAH BARON . I live at 4, Fanshawe Street—in September I was living with Bradley—he gave me a cheque to cash—I got the money at the Devonshire Arms—I saw Coutts at my place one Saturday after I had the cheque—Bradley was there—they were in my room—I got them a pen and ink—I was ordered out of the room—Bradley was taken into custody—Stelfox, Cooke, and I went to the station about my child on the Wednesday—Bradley was charged on the Friday.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. Bradley was out on the Wednesday—Stelfox did not say Mr. Cooke was with him.

Cross-examined by Bradley. You were ill with fits last year.

By the JURY. Bradley took away my child, and I went to the station about it.

WHITEMAN COOPER . I am manager to the London Trading Bank, Limited, Coleman Street—we have no accounts named on these three cheques—the forms are from a book issued to Josiah Kelly in December, 1881—in January, 1882, his balance was 4s. 9d.—there has been no transaction since 1882—at the end of September and beginning of October last those three cheques were presented, and returned by us, marked "No account"—we had not Kelly's address—he communicated with us after the cheques were presented, and we signed the cheque for 4s. 9d.—we supplied the form—I did not know the other cheques were his till the day after—two cheques are in the same writing, but not that

of 4th October—the three cheques are consecutive numbers from the same cheque-book.

WILLIAM WARMACK (Police Constable). I took Bradley on 10th October—I told him he would be charged with uttering a cheque on Mr. Cooke—he made no answer.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. Stelfox was at the Police-court on three occasions.

Re-examined, The first occasion referred to Cooked case only—Stelfox was not subpœnaed; he came voluntarily.

ARTHUR SEWELL (Police Sergeant G). I took Stelfox at the Red Lion public-house, Hoxton Street, about one o'clock on 29th October—he spoke first, but I said, I must tell you you are now going to be charged with being concerned with this man "(he had mentioned Bradley's name)—he said, I am innocent, so help me, God! I thought it would come to-this—I took him to the station—he was charged—he made no reply.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I had seen him at the Court, and had spoken to him—he began to say something, when I stopped him.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Bradley says: "I am innocent. "Stelfox says: "The cheque I took to Ellis I received from Bradley."

FREDERICK COOKE (Cross-examined by MR. WILLES). I met Stelfox and Baron in the Kingsland Road—I had seen Selfox before that—I did not know he had gone to Bradley's house—I went with them to the station, because I was going the to lay information in reference to the cheque—they did not know it till I told them—I said, "I am going to the station to complain about these false cheques"—they said they were going about Mrs. Baron's child, and they came with me and heard my complaint to the inspector on duty—I had seen Stelfox several times-about the cheque—he had only told me the cheque had come back, and what I have stated.

Bradley, in his defence', stated that he received the cheque for £5 5s. from a man who purchased two tables, and made an appointment for the Monday to buy more, and when it was found to be bad, offered to pay the amount by instalments, which nothing but illness prevented; that he took the cheque in a fair way of trade, and there was not a stain on his character for twenty-five years.

GUILTY of uttering.

STELFOX then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in August, 1881, at Worship Street. Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-45
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

45. GEORGE SELMAN (22) , Feloniously wounding Ada Johns, with intent to do her grievous bodily harm.

ADA JOHNS . I live at 38, Shaftesbury Street, Stamford Hill, and am the wife of Alfred Johns, a sailor, who is absent on a voyage—I have known the prisoner about two years, and during the last three or four weeks I have been very intimate with him—I was continually in his company, but was not living with him—on 23rd October, about three o'clock, I met him coming from my house—he said he had been home, and there was no one at home—he said, "Where have you been?"—I said, "What has that to do with you?"—he said, "It has all to do with me"—we went into the South Australian Arms, Tottenham—I told him I was going to London, and appointed to meet him at seven p.m. at Cray's Inn Road, where the trams start, but I did not go there, I went

home to Tottenham by the tram-car, and went to the Gate House public-house, Stamford Hill, and had a glass of port wine—a man in the bar accidentally knocked the glass over, and insisted on paying for a fresh one for me, and I got into conversation with him, during which time the prisoner came in and stood right opposite me in a corner—I did not speak to him, nor he to me—after I had finished the wine I shook hands with the man, said good-night to him, and went straight home—I did not see the prisoner when I left; it was midnight—I opened my door with a latch-key, and as I did so I saw the prisoner—he didn't speak, hut struck me a blow in my face before I had time to take the key out of the door—after that I felt someone's fingers round my throat, and remember nothing afterwards—when I came to I was in my room, and my sister was bathing my face—I was taken to the Tottenham Hospital, and was there a fortnight.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I swear my husband's name is Johns, he is not in prison—you said you would swear my life away if I went against you, because I prosecuted you for this assault—you said, "I. can't have my revenge on her here, but I will have my revenge when I get to the other place. "

LOTTIE STANSFIELD . I am the wife of George Stansfield, a porter, of 38, Shaftesbury Street, Tottenham, and am a sister of the prosecutrix—. she has been living in my house some weeks up to October 23rd—the prisoner used to come and see her—on October 23rd, about twenty minutes to one a. m., I was in bed, and heard my sister moaning—I went to her room, the front parlour, and found the door locked—I said, "Open the door"—the prisoner said, "You had better not come; she will only abuse you"—I knew his voice—I said, "If you do not open the door I shall break it open"—he opened the door, saying, "I'm off," and passed. quickly out of the house—I went into my sister's room, and found her, partly dressed, lying in a pool of blood on the floor, unconscious—her. face was very much bruised—I bathed it, and got her into bed—about half-past eight next morning I went to the police-station, and called in Dr. Harkness, and by his advice she was taken to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I am positive it was you; I saw you as you passed me; there was a light on the sideboard—I am positive it was you, and I know your voice.

ALEXANDER HARKNESS , L. B. C. P. I live at Oak Villas, Stamford Hill—on 20th October, about 8.30, I went to Shaftesbury Street and saw the prosecutrix on a bed on the floor partially collapsed, and in a very weak condition; the right side of her face was very much swollen and bruised, and there was a clean cut on her temple about an inch long, and a bruise on the left side of her head—the inside of her lips and cheeks were stiff from a violent blow, and there was a contused mark, a bruise on her throat over the windpipe, and several punctures; three ribs on her left. side were broken, and her side was smeared with blood; 6he was in great pain there on the slightest touch—I strapped it, and ordered her removal to the hospital—a small knife like this (produced) would account for the punctures in the throat, and for the incised wound on the temple.

GEORGE RITCHIE THOMPSON . I am a Master of Surgery in Edinburgh, and house-surgeon to Tottenham Hospital—Mrs. Johns was brought there on 24th October—I examined her, and agree with what Dr. Hark ness has said—I saw a wound on her temple and punctures over her windpipe,

which would be caused by a small knife—she was under my care thirteen days; she was in a dangerous condition—she was discharged on the condition that she should return, as she was not well, but she did not do so.

Cross-examined. I could not swear that her ribs were broken, because there was emphysema of the chest—that is very dangerous.

ELIAS BOWER (Detective Officer). On 24th October I went to 149, Cleveland Street, Marylebone, and saw the prisoner—I said, "Are you George Selman?"—he said, "Yes"—I told him the charge, and cautioned him—he said, "Where is she? How is she?"—I said, "She is in Tottenham Hospital, seriously injured"—he said, "What about the knife?"—I said, "I know nothing about that"—he said, "She has got it, several times," and pointed to his left side—I said, "Where is the-knife?"—he replied, "I left it in the house"—I took him to the-station; I afterwards searched the house, 38, Shaftesbury Street, and found this knife among the bedclothes in the front room, ground floor; it had blood on the blade and handle—I also found this woman's vest, with blood on it, and holes in it; the prosecutrix has identified it; it is almost impossible to say whether the holes were made by a knife, it is woollen.

HARRY DIDDUMS (Police Inspector N). I took the prisoner in a cab to Tottenham Hospital—while the prisoner was being searched' he pulled out a latch-key, and asked me to give it to the witness Stansfield, as it was the key of Ada Johns' door—I did so, and she said it was her key—on 6th October I charged the prisoner with the attempt to murder; he made no reply.

The Prisoner called

FREDERICK HYMAN . I have known you eleven or twelve years; you have lived with the prosecutrix five or six weeks—previous to that a man named Jarvis lived with her; he is now doing ten months, I believe; he is not her husband, as far as I know—I lived with her myself fourteen or fifteen months, and left her because we had a few words—I knew she was a married woman.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that the prosecutrix, being immoral and dishonest herself, ought not to prosecute him. GUILTY .

He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court on September 17th, 1888, in the name of George Thomas.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 2nd, 1890.

Before Mr. Justice Charles,

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-46
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

46. JOHN HART (41) , Feloniously setting fire to the dwelling house of Eliza Adams, she and other persons being therein.

MR. ROOTH Prosecuted.

ELIZA ADAMS . I keep a lodging-house at 5, Clarissa Street, Hagger-stone—the prisoner moved in there on Bank Holiday, and occupied the-front room first floor with his wife and three children—Mrs. West and her three children lived in the back room—I have two daughters who occupied the back parlour, and George Hayes lived in the front—on November 10th, about 11 p.m., the prisoner came in very tipsy, and went up to his room—about 2 a.m. George Hayes knocked at my door

and told us to get up—my two daughters were with me—while we were dressing, the prisoner came down stairs, and I asked him what he had been doing—he said, "What have you been doing to me?"—I said, Nothing, we have all been in bed and asleep; if you have set anything on fire take this pail of water and go and put it out"—he said, "Not me "and walked out, and I saw no more of him till he came back on Thursday night, and this was the night between Monday and Tuesday; he then said he was very sorry, it could not be helped, and he was going to give himself up in the morning.

Cross-examined. You lived with me twelve months—you moved once and came back with your wife—you have never had any grievance with anybody in the house—I do not believe you did this on purpose—E have heard your wife say that when you have been drinking you stopped away in grief till you got sober—she remained at my house from the Monday to the Thursday.

ELIZABETH HART . I am ten years old—the prisoner is my father—when he came home on 10th November I was lying on the bed, and my two little brothers by my side—my father came home at eleven o'clock, and at three o'clock in the morning he got up off the floor where he was lying and took hold of the table and pulled it over—there was a lamp alight on it, which fell on the floor and caught my brother's clothes—they blazed up, and my father laid down again on the floor—my brother took up his coat alight and put it into the slop pail—a chair was set on fire, and the carpet—I went downstairs with my brothers and called Hayes, and told him what had taken place—he went up and got Mrs. "West's children down from the back room—I awoke the landlord—my father was lying on the floor when I came down—I did not see him any more that night, but in the morning, when I was in the landlady's room, I saw him come downstairs—I asked him to take a pail of water up, but he said, "No. "

By the JURY. When my father came home my mother gave him his supper, and then she went out—she was not in the room when the fire took place.

Cross-examined. I am sure you pushed the table over—you said nothing as you came downstairs—you had no hat on.

GEORGE HAYES . I am a hawker, and live at this lodging-house—on 11th November, at 2 a. m., I was awakened by the little girl—she made a statement to me—I got out of bed and went upstairs and opened the prisoner's door, but could not get in for smoke—I woke up everybody in the house, and got the children downstairs, and when I saw that the people were all safe I went for a policeman—I could not get into the prisoner's room, and never saw him.

Cross-examined. I do not think you intended to do any harm to any body in the house—I did not see you that evening.

JOSEPH CAPON (7401). Hayes called me to 5, Clarissa Street on 11th November, about 2 a. m., and I found a dense smoke upstairs, all over the landing—I tried to get into the room where the fire was, but the door was fixed by the heat on the paint—I forced it open, but was sent back by the flames and smoke—I put it out with Hayes' assistance; they fetched water from downstairs—I saw a chair burning, very nearly burnt out; a chest of drawers was in flames and some clothes, I and the side of the wall was burnt, and four floor-boards—those articles were not near the

fireplace—I found a paraffin lamp lying on the floor smashed; it holds a quart—I arrested the prisoner three days afterwards at 12.30 p.m., as he went upstairs—I went into his room, and he ran out the in another lodger's room—I then charged him—he said, "I know I am wanted"—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. You did not tell me that you went into the back room to ask a chap to call you at 7 a. m.; you did not tell me that you were going to the station the following morning.

JOSEPH JOYCE (Police Sergeant). I read the charge to the prisoner at the station—he said, "I was very drunk, indeed; I do not know what I did; I stayed a little while, and left a lot of it burning in the fire place. It was an accident; I did not do it; I do not know what I did it for"—I found the drawers and the floor-boards burnt.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I was lying down by the fireplace for about two hours. I got up and found it all in flames in the fireplace; I gathered it up and put it in the fireplace. I left a spark about as big as my hat alight when I came down. "

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was very drunk, and did not know what he did; that a man told him he had set fire to the place, and offered to bail him if he would come to the station, and that he went home to sleep, intending to give himself up in the morning.


THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, December 2nd, 1890.

Be fare Mr. Recorder,

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-47
VerdictMiscellaneous > unfit to plead

Related Material

47. FREDERICK CHARLES RILEY (25) , Burglary in the dwelling house of James John Ridler, and stealing various pieces of paper, his property. Upon the evidence of Philip Francis Gilbert , surgeon of Holloway Gaol, the JURY found the prisoner insane and unable to plead.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-48
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

48. ALFRED BRAITHWAITE EMMANUEL (40) , Threatening to publish a libel upon William Henry Colman, with intent to extort money.


WILLIAM HENRY COLMAN . I am a sharebroker and dealer at 115, Cannon Street—I carry on that business in the name of the London and County Stock and Share Agency. Company—I am in partnership with Mr. Heath—prior to 30th August I was employed by a Mr. Baxter, who carried on a similar business at 51, Queen Victoria Street—there was an arrangement between him and me that the business was to be carried on. in the name of W. H. Colman and Co.—before 30th August certain matters came to my knowledge, in consequence of which I went to my solicitor, Mr. Brook Palmer—after consulting Mr. Palmer, I left Mr. Baxter, not giving him notice, on 30th August—Mr. Baxter dropped the name of W. H. Colman and Co. when I gave him notice—he then carried on business under the name of John Anderson and Co.—I have not, since 30th August, been connected with Mr. Baxter in any way; nor is he connected with my present business—a few days after 30th August I started my present business at 115, Cannon Street—Mr. Lewis is employed there by me—I have known Emmanuel since August,

1889, as the proprietor of the Stock Exchange Times—Mr. Baxter gave advertisements to that paper—a little before 14th October I had spoken to the defendant about advertisements; I told him when it suited me I would give him one—he called on two or three occasions for advertisements—I advertised in the Financial News and the Financial Times—on 14th October the defendant called at my office—he made some remark about business, and then asked if I was going to give him an advertisement—I told him it did not suit me to give him an advertisement—he said I had promised him one, and that I was advertising in the Financial News and the Financial Times, and I should advertise in his paper—I said that when it suited me he should have an advertisement—he said some thing about being hard up, and wanted mi to lend him 10s—he produced an invoice of Horncastle's, and said he could repay me the 10s. by that, or that he wanted the 10s. to pay that—I did not read it—I told him I had not 10s., and could not lend it to him—I do not think I had—he said I was a pretty manager if I had not 10s., and he supposed the company was as poor as I was, and said, "I will make it warm," or "hot, for you in my next paper"—he threw a two shilling piece on the table and said, "It you are so poor I'll give you 2s"—he left, repeating he would make it warm for me—I saw Mr. Lewis come in—we consulted Mr. Palmer—on 24th October I received by post this wrapper and this paper marked as it is now, in red pencil—the wrapper is addressed after the printed heading of "Stock Exchange Times, One Penny Weekly," &c, to "W. H. Colman and Co., London and County Stock and Share Agency, 115 and 117, Cannon Street"—I read the passages marked with red pencil—I am the Mr. Colman referred to—I took it to Palmer—under his advice I obtained this Order of the Judge in Chambers to prosecute the defendant—on 6th November a summons was issued at the Guildhall Police court—I have never given the defendant an advertisement—he told me he was going to float the Stock Exchange Times into a company, and asked me if I would float some of his shares, for which he would give me 25 per cent, commission. (Th passages complained of were: "Idiots and their Investments. London and County Stock and Share Agency, and W. H. Colman and Co. Mr. W. H. Colman, formerly of Albert Buildings 51, Queen Victoria Street, E. G., who was supposed to have been in the employ of Mr. Baxter, who traded as Colman and Co., is now to be found daily, during ordinary office hours, at the London and County Stock and Share Agency, Granite Buildings, 115 and 117, Cannon Street, E. C. The offices are on the third and fourth floor, completely furnished, and to the uninitiated might inspire a certain amount of confidence. "We know not whether Mr. Baxter, who has recently mysteriously disappeared from the offices formerly tenanted by him in Queen Victoria Street, is one of the partners or sole proprietor of the business, but our desire in publishing these remarks is to prevent any of our readers from remitting cover to be entrusted to the tender mercies of Mr. W. H. Colman, whether trading in his own name, or as a bogus company or agency. Our desire is not to injure Mr. Colman specially, but to protect our readers, whose interests are identical with our own. We have a very strong feeling on the subject, and that the wirepuller is Mr. Baxter, and that the whole tale of the severance of Mr. Colman from, Mr. Baxter is manufactured for the purpose of securing Mr. Colman against any loss which he is supposed to have made on behalf of subscribers

to his so-called combination. "Also, "Things the Editor would like to know: whether the title of Mr. W. H. Colman is not an imposing one. Whether imposing is not a good word," and "The scare caused by the depredations of such firms as Field and Co. and Colman and Co. may cause some feeling among those who have entrusted them with their cover, but legitimate speculation and investment business is never influenced by such events.")

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I am thirty years old—I have been in business fifteen years—I began at fifteen as a clerk to a dock company—I am in partnership with Mr. Heath—he is a man of forty, with plenty of capital—our office is at Granite Buildings—our telegraphic address is "Immaculate"—I do not profess to be infallible—Mr. Heath attends daily—we keep a ledger and a cash book—we bank at the London and South-Western Bank—Mr. Baxter was sole proprietor—I lent him my name—that was one of the conditions of my service, because I could introduce clients—I had no Stock Exchange customers then—I am acquainted with various speculators—I could have been introduced to members of the Stock Exchange, but I could get more out of it in that way—I never knew Field and Co.—I only heard of them within the last month—we do not advertise largely—I have not ceased our advertisement in the Financial News—I have done business—I might do business without getting money—I charge commission in some cases—I am a stockbroker and dealer—I am not a member of the Stock Exchange—I earn a profit by running the stock—I act as a jobber; a speculator—I have earned very small commission—about £10—my firm has lost money on the business, both our own and our clients' money; I cannot disconnect myself from my company—the company is not registered—I brought in £250—I have lost £50 or £60 of that—the company has lost £100 on balance—(a circular was here read, stating: "That subscribers may be assured the business is honestly conducted, each statement will be certified by a firm of accountants")—we have not employed a firm of accountants; when that was printed I was in negotiation with a firm of accountants to certify the accounts: Mr. Williams, a chartered accountant, 41, Finsbury Pavement—there was no necessity for him to certify the statements—I put it in the circular to attract the public—we issued the circular to clients—one is the Rev. W. Cotton, Stockbridge, Hants—I do not deal with widows; I send them to speculators—I had some hundreds of customers—I sent out the circular to attract business—it has attracted business—I have sent several profits made to forty or fifty customers, in some cases £25 on £5 sent up—I swear I did not know Mr. Baxter was conducting irregular business while I was with him—I do not know that he absconded; he left the country—I do not know that Mr. Baxter, alias Mr. Anderson, is wanted; I never heard of it—I presume they are the same,. as Mr. Baxter altered the name immediately I left the business—Prescott, Lyle, and Co. are a firm of stockbrokers like myself, I presume—they are not on the Stock Exchange—I was with them as clerk six or seven years ago—then I wont to Vanity Fair—I answered the financial questions—I re commended stocks in some cases in Vanity Fair—my salary at Baxter's was £200 a year to start with, and three weeks before I left I got £1,000 a year—I discharged myself—he paid me to the time I left—I had £1,000'a year after five months for two weeks; then, owing to business dropping

off, it dropped again to £200, and three weeks before I left he gave me £1,000 a year—then I heard that men dealing with Baxter did not get the profits he made on their stocks—he was not sinking then, but doing good business—Mr. Heath is not here—he is a party to this prosecution—the circular is dated September 5th—I have not issued one for a month, because the market does not warrant it—the markets have been upset and business is not profitable—I used the Word "boom" in September—the circular not being issued has nothing to do with complaints—I can produce contract notes for everything I did—in connection with combined operations our firm lost £300 in excess of that sent up by subscribers—I never read Money, it is a financial paper so-called. (Letter read from "Money "in reply to I. &, Dundee, stating that the agency managed by W. H. Colman and Co. "had joined the ever-increasing number of defunct bucket shops")—that is a libel—I have not prosecuted Money—one libel is enough to prosecute at a time—they referred to us, and said, "A new bucket-shop had been opened, "then we put in an advertisement, and from that time till Mr. Baxter left the business of Thomas Anderson and Co. never a word appeared till I refused to give the publisher an advertisement—then I received Money marked as the Stock Exchange Times was—I could have stopped them with a 5s. a week advertisement—Isabel Sharpe, of Dundee, sent £10 to our company, and she complained to the Financial News of having lost on Canadian Pacific and Northern Pacific Preference, we undid the bargain, informed her of the operation; those stocks went down, as she could see—I asked her to increase the margin on the stock—I sent the whole correspondence to the Financial News, which explained that she was mistaken—Mr. Lewis heard the defendant say he would make it hot for me—Mr. Lewis stood on the other side of the partition—there is an aperture at the top—I could have got the 10s. in the office.

Re-examined. I produce the correspondence with I. Sharpe as printed in the Financial News the next day—I have not since had any complaint from her—I also produce my agreement with Mr. Baxter—I have had no connection with Field and Company—the prisoner was more in the confidence of Mr. Baxter than I was; what I heard of Mr. Batter was to his discredit, and that is why I left him—I had no other interest in W. H. Colman and Co. than my salary.

AKTHTTR BURGETT LEWIS . I am a clerk to Mr. Colman and the London and County Stock and Share Agency Company—on 14th October I was sitting in the outside office—Mr. Colman was in the inner office—the rooms are separated by a partition, which does not quite reach the-ceiling—one can hear what is said in the other office—the defendant passed my room, called out his name, and walked in to Mr. Colman—he said, "Good morning; how are you? how is business? "and Are you going to give me that advertisement you promised me?"—Mr. Colman said, "I do not think I shall, just yet," or "just at present"—the defendant said, "You are advertising in the Financial News and the Financial Times, and other papers, why don't you give me an advertisement?"—Mr. Colman said, "Because it does not suit me to do so at present; when it does I will let you know," or something to that effect—then the defendant asked for a loan of 10s—Mr. Colman said, I can not, as I have not got it in my pocket"—the defendant said, "You are a pretty fine fellow not to have 10s. in your pocket; I suppose the company

is as poor as you are; if you have not any money in your pocket) I will give you a couple of shillings"—I heard the coin fall on tie table and the defendant say, "Then you are not going to give me that advertisement?"—Mr. Colman said, "No"—the defendant said, "All right, I'll make it hot, "or" warm for you in my paper"—the defendant said that once or twice, slammed the door, and went downstairs—I went in, took up the florin, ran after the defendant, and caught him nearly at the bottom of the stairs, and said, "Here is your two-shilling piece, you art a scoundrel to make use of such language to Mr. Colman; if you dare to come up those stairs again, or into our office again, I'll sling you down"—Mr. Baxter has had nothing to do with the business since I have been there—I afterwards went to No, 2, New Broad Street—on the door was "A. B. Emmanuel, Stock Exchange Times. " and something about some agency—from a boy in the office I purchased a copy of the Stock Exchange Times.

Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. There is an iron ventilator along the top of the partition—I was engaged at my work—I recognised the de fendant's voice—I knew him—I know he said "hot" once—Mr. Heath is a partner—I know no more of him—the circular is sent out when desirable—I think we sent one out the week before last; we send them to all parts, even Scotland, about 10,000 to 15,000 at a time—we do not take the addresses from the Court or London Directory; nor any directory—we have books of our own—there is no lift at 15, Cannon Street.

The Defendant's statement before the Magistrate: "I had known Mr. Colman some two years before the time when I called at the London Stock and Share Agency, firstly, in the employ of a firm of respectable brokers in Union Court, after that I met him at 51, Cannon Street, when he was with Mr. Baxter, trading as Colman and Co. During the summer of this" year I received many complaints about losses from duped speculators about Colman and Co. and others. On the 4th September of this year Mr. Colman purchased from me shareholders' names to the' extent of it for which he paid me. At a later date, in October, I sold him some further sheets of names, and after writing the receipt for the account which I had of Mr. Colman, he found he was a few shillings short of what he had to pay me. It was either £1 or £1 5s. I left that receipt with him. He did not wish me to do so. At his request I called again, And that brought me on to October 14th. On that day I called up there, and Mr. Colman said, 'Oh, I have to give you some silver.' He put his hand in his pocket and said, 'How much is it?' I said I had called with some further names, and asked him if he would give me authority to his advertising agent, Mr. Skinner. I then told him I did not want the 5s., as I had a cheque in my pocket from a Cheapside advertising agent. I asked him if he knew anything about Mr. Baxter, and as he appeared very angry about the question I withdrew. I am prepared to. swear most emphatically that no request for any advance of money was made by me, nor any suggestion."

GUILTY .— Two Months' Imprisonment, and to enter into hit own recognisances of £50 to keep the peace.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-49
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty; Guilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

49. GEORGE RICHARD WADE (17), HENRY RAYMENT FREDERICK HOWLETT (18), JOSEPH MANZE(42), and JUDAH GEIS (44) were again indicted for breaking and entering the warehouse of Charles Bauer and another, and stealing shawls, serges, and other articles.



CHARLES BAUER . The evidence of this witness in the previous case was read by the RECORDER (see p. 36), to which he assented and added: The goods I referred to in my previous evidence were stolen on the previous night, 15th October—I also identified other goods at Manze's premises—we did not know when the thefts commenced, but as we missed things, especially some parcels, we called in a detective, I think in May—the goods were all stolen this year—I also went with the police on the following day to 15, Hutchinson Street, Geis's premises—I saw Geis—I heard the officer say they were going to search the premises—I saw them find this piece of black serge, this piece of blue serge, and this shawl; they are my property—they had been stolen from my premises this year—I heard Geis say the goods were bought of a traveller, and when questioned as to the price, he said he did not know.

Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. The goods I identified were stolen about March—they came into stock in January—the serge was then in whole rolls, with a board in the centre and in paper—the value of these produced is about 30s—it has been cut and is diminished in length—I Know if by the selvage, which is the same as that manufactured for us—the manufacturer has no other customer in London—there is nothing remarkable about the serge, nor the shawl—part of the conversation at Geis's was in English.

Re-examined. The police arrested Geis in the street, and took him to his house—we are agents in London for these goods—the goods I saw at Geis's were only a portion of what I lost.

THOMAS ABBOTT (City Detective). I went with Davidson to 1, Russell Court, Lawrence Lane, on 16th October—I saw Wade, who made a statement which caused me to go to Geis's and Manze's premises—about two o'clock on the 17th I went with Davidson to look for Geis—I found him with a sweet stuff barrow in Leadenhall Street—I said, "Is your name Judah Geis, and do you speak English?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "We are police officers, and hold a search warrant to search your house at 15, Hutchinson Street"—on the way there I said two lads named Howlett and Wade were in custody on a charge of breaking and entering 1, Castle Court, and stealing a quantity of shawls, serge, silk, and other articles, and a man named Manze was in custody for receiving part of the property—he appeared not to understand—I asked him if he lived at 15, Hutchinson Street—he said, "Yes"—I went there with Mr. Bauer—in a front room on the first floor I found this piece of black serge in the fireplace, and partly covered by a box, and a pair of boots in a cupboard close by this piece of blue serge; in a chest of drawers this shawl and seal cape, piece of satin, and piece of plush—these things were identified by Mr. Bauer as his property—I said, "How do you account for the, possession of this cloth, shawl, and things?"—he said, "I bought the serge from a traveller"—I said, "Have you any receipts?"—he said, "No"—I said, "How much did you pay for it, and how much is there in each piece?"—he said, "I don't know"—his daughter then said there were fourteen yards in the piece of blue serge, and that it had been

bought from a traveller, and the shawl and other articles we identified her young man gave her—I said, I should take him to the station, and he would be charged with being concerned with Howlett and Manze in stealing and receiving within the last nine months this and other property amounting to £110, from 1, Castle Court—I searched him—found two pawn-tickets—one relates to a silver watch, the other to a violin pawned in the name of Howlett (produced)—he told Detective Barton that he found the tickets on his barrow.

Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. One is for 10s., the other 5s—Geis referred. me to the name on his barrow—I said that did not matter, and did not look, because I believed it was hired—I have been in the force sixteen years—he appeared to understand my questions—he is a Polish Jew—? they deal in all sorts of things—the house is close to Petticoat Lane.

ARTHUR BARTON (City Detective). I was present when Howlett was brought to the station, and when Geis was searched—on the way to the Station I asked Geis how he came possessed of the two pawn-tickets, One for a watch the other for a violin; he said he found them on his barrow.

GEORGE RICHARD WADE . (This witness's previous evidence was ready to which he assented.) I have known Geis about two years—I first went with Howlett when he took a piece of silk to his barrow in Cornhill and sold it to Geis—Geis put it inside his barrow—Geis asked me if I could bring him something—I told him no, but he pressed me and said he would pay me for it, so Howlett and I took him some stuff we. got from Bauer's—I had not till then stolen anything—I first got in to Bauer and Co. about March—I stole serges and shawls, fancy aprons and such like—I took part to Manze—Geis had the rest—Geis had mostly the serge and a few shawls and aprons—he took them away on his barrow in the evening—these produced are similar pieces—he gave us different prices, I cannot recollect them—he gave us 4s. a piece for the serge; larger Pieces than these and rolled on a board—he told us to bring him more—took him more twice—none of the goods we had stolen on 15th were taken to Geis—I gave the detective a ticket of two pieces we had put in the cloak-room at Cannon Street Station for Geis—Geis had spoken to us about it—it was rather bulky, and we left it there for safety and convenience—he told us to steal it, because he knew we could not get it honestly, and once he brought his barrow within ten yards of the ware house—Ashtons had offices in the same building at Castle Court—in the police van Howlett said he had thrown some cutlery down the sink to get rid of it—I heard Geis speak of it—on the stairs just now Geis said, "Do not say anything"—that was when coming into the witness-box—we spoke in English whenever I saw him.

Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. It was broken English—I cannot say how much we stole—the barrow was a regular costermonger's barrow used for sweet stuff—we took one parcel each time—he did not have it all—we went between eight and nine—the warehouse closed at all times, seven or before seven—his barrow stood in Leadenhall Street, and different places in the City; sometimes he used to go under an arch in Queen Victoria Street on purpose—sometimes we gave it to him in Cheap-Bide, and sometimes Cornhill—I do not remember giving him serge in Leadenhall Street—I do shawls—he put them under his board, and once or twice under a tarpaulin—he spoke broken English—he knew the

warehouse—he did not tell us how to break in, but he told us to steal it—he used the word "steal"—I had known him about a fortnight before I began to steal, partly when buying sweet stuff, and partly by going with Howlett—we bought a pennyworth at a time—he generally fare it sites he bought stuff—I first confessed about 16th October, when the detective came to the warehouse—the detective asked if I knew anything about it—I said, "No"—he said he was not satisfied with my explanation, and began examining the boards taken from the ceiling, and while doing that I told him all about it—I did not think I would get off—I expect the same punishment—we did not take all we stole to Manze or Geis—I have given the name of the other person to the police—he is not arrested.

HENRY RAYMENT FREDERICK HOWLETT . (The witness's previous evidence was ready to which he assented)—I first knew Geis a year or a year and a half ago—I got sweets from him in Cheapside, and had a piece of silk, pattern—I said, "Can I bring you some r"—he said, "Yes, bring me some when you can get it"—I had picked the pattern up off the floor—he said, "If you will bring it to me I will pay you for it"—I said, "I do; not think I can get any"—he said, "You can get some somehow, can't you?"—I said, "I do not know, I will try"—f assisted Wade in getting into Bauer's warehouse early this year—February or March the first time—we took away some shawls, pants, under-vests and cloth at night, someone night, and some another—we put those we did not take away in the loft—we took some to Geis and some to Manze—we took to Geis shawls and aprons, and I think two or three pieces of serge like this produced, and some shawls like this colour, and some another colour—Geis paid 4s., 5s., and 6s—we took some to Geis and some to Manze—we took them to Geis's barrow in Cornhill—never to his house—I gave the pawntickets to Geis when he lent me 6d., and when I brought him the 6d. he said he would is give me them back—the tickets are for things I pledged—that took place is year—the day after I pledged the ticket dated 19th September—in the police van Geis said he would sell the silver things I had taken from Oliver's—as to the tickets, he said, "I shall say I found these in Leaden hall Street"

Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I introduced Geis to Wade—I had known Geis a little while before that—I took things to Geis in the dinner time between one and two, and during business hours—Wade came with me sometimes, not always—I took the things wherever his barrow was, Cornhill, Queen Victoria Street, and Cheapside—I had to look for him—I knew his beat—I had the goods concealed in the warehouse—I was eighteen last Friday—Wade is tour days older—I was in Oliver's employ, not in Bartlett's—I spent the money in holiday-time—I began Aus sort of thing six months after I had been at Oliver's—I had been where a year when I left—then I went to Pym Brothers, in Milk Street—Geis was the first I took goods to took them to two others—I had nine shillings a week—I lived with my parents—I did not need a character when I went to Oliver's—I had one lox the next place—I left Oliver's the beginning of this year—I have known Geis about a year and a half.

Re-examined. Mr. Oliver would know when I left him, I do not remember the month, it may be June—I knew Geis before I stole from Mr. Oliver.

Witness for Geis.

ALICE GEIS . I am Geis's daughter—we hare been in England close upon twelve years—I was very young when we came—we came from Russia—I went to an English school—I am a Jewess—my father has had a sweetstuff barrow since he has been in London—I am engaged to be married to Philip Sabiskovski—he bought and gave me this shawl nine months ago, a Sunday afternoon, and this blue serge twelve months ago—it was in this condition, only it has been lying about—this other serge was brought to my mother at the same time by my young man—I cannot say whether she bought it—I was going to have it make up.

Cross-examined. It was not in the fireplace in a box, the box was not over it—father said nothing when the policeman came, I spoke—they never asked father to account for the possession of these things—they told us what father was taken up for, but said nothing of that kind—I was upstairs—I did not hear all that was said—I told them the things belonged to me—they said it was the things they had come to look for, and I said, "Those things cannot be yours, because they belong to me, they were given to me by Sabiskovski—he brought the black as well as the blue—I saw him hand the serge to my mother—I think it was a present, I am not certain—he has not made many presents, a few weeks ago he brought a black cashmere dress made up.

PHILIP SABISKOVSKI (Interpreted). I am a tailor—I work at 15, Beak Street, Regent Street; I am engaged to be married to Alice Geis—I bought this shawl in Petticoat Lane, and the other things of a traveller—I gave this serge to my young lady. '

Cross-examined. My intended mother-in-law bought the black serge of a traveller—I was present, he brought them to Geis's house—I paid the traveller £2 for the two pieces of serge—he said the blue was about fourteen yards, and the black, I think, about nineteen or nineteen and a half yards—they were not wrapped round a piece of wood—that was twelve months ago—the traveller's name is Abraham—he is in the lobby—I have known Geis since last March twelve months—I have also made the girl presents of rings, and a fur cape—I earn 8s. 6d. a day.

ABRAHAM ABRAHAMSON . I am a draper, of 23, Grenville Street, Commercial Road—Sabiskovski bought things of me—I have dealt with him a long time—I had pieces of serge like these twelve or eighteen months ago—I sold some like these in Geis's house.

Cross-examined. I sold some like these twelve months ago—I do not keep a shop—I keep my stock in my room on shelves—I cannot remember where I bought them—I have no invoices—I do not save my receipts—I have this book (produced)—it is not in it—I cannot remember what I paid for it, nor what I sold it for—I sold it to Mrs. Geis and her daughter, and to Philip the young man—I do not remember if I got £2 for it.

Re-examined. I have been in England four years and six months—I came from Russia—I go round to customers—I know a good many customers in Whitechapel.


HOWLETT— Fifteen Months' Hard labour.

WADE— Twelve Months Hard Labour. GEIS and MANZE— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.

THIRD COURT, Wednesday, December 3rd; and

NEW COURT, Thursday, December 4th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-50
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

50. JOHN HENRY LOOK, Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Charles Wiltshire and others, £15 and other sums, with intent to defraud.


MR. GRAIN Defended.

CHARLES WILTSHIRE . I am a fruiterer, of 78, Richmond Road, Putney—on 9th April I saw this advertisement in the Daily Telegraph. (Of a vacancy in a City Firm with large organisation, to be taught mechanical drawing and other commercial and professional business; premium £15, and salary after six months. Address. Box 46a, D. T.)—on 15th my son wrote this letter (Asking for particulars) he received a reply which has been destroyed—it was to this effect, "Call and see our managing partner, Mr. Cleveland, at the office"—I went with my son to the office named, 147, Alderegate Street—I asked for Mr. Cleveland, and was shown the prisoner—I told him I had called in reply to the advertisement, which indicated just what I wanted for my boy—that he was most anxious to learn the engineering especially—the prisoner intimated he had full power and opportunity to teach him thoroughly all the various departments indicated in the advertisement, on the premises, which had every appearance of business, and I thought from that that my son would have every opportunity of learning the various branches—he said my son would be engaged on the staff at the manufactory, especially that of lamp manufacture, which Was, he said, a good part of the business, as he was the patentee of the lamp—he said he had depots in various parts of the country, and my son would have to go to them occasionally—I was perfectly satisfied with the conversation—on a second visit he handed me an agreement—I wished to know it my boy could have a month's trial—he said there was such a number of applications that it was impossible, and I must decide within twenty-four hours—I went away delighted, and his mother and I were perfectly satisfied with the appearance of the defendant and his surroundings, and we decided at once to place the boy in his hands—two or three days after I took my son—I expressed my satisfaction with the appearance to the defendant, and agreed to let my son enter his employment—I handed him a cheque for £15, and received this agreement.(Of 14th April, the prisoner undertaking to instruct in mechanical drawing, metal work, and other things)—attached to the agreement was this printed document (of North, Nash and Co., manufacturers and contractors, works, Bermondsey, New York, and London, E. C., depots in all suburbs and various departments set out)—I heard machines in motion—I asked if the boy could be put to the works direct—the defendant said he could not go then to the works except at a much higher premium—the defendant did not appear for a fortnight—my boy constantly complained—he never saw any works.

Cross-examined. I was not shown over 147, Aldersgate Street, I only sat on a chair—I saw lamps and other articles about—my boy said there was no one to put him to work or teach him—that was for a fortnight from the time he first went—I inquired where the defendant was—no body knew—scarlet fever was mentioned—my son's complaints con

tinued the 'whole six months—I kept him there according to my agree ment—I believed the complaints—I suffered it because it was perfectly useless, and I would keep my agreement—I thought I had been duped and defrauded from the beginning—I made no communication to the police until they communicated with me—they then told me the defendant was in custody—Oldhampstead called—I do not remember his telling me he. had a man in custody who had been in penal servitude, or in prison—I did not say it, and id not hear it from anybody—I complained to Mr. Stan well—my boy said he had to copy daily time-sheets at the defendant's dictation—he did not say they were fictitious, nor that they were true—he said he had to keep a diary as well, and that it was repeatedly altered by the prisoner—I took it just as the boy gave it me, true or untrue—he promised he would have 5s., then 7s., and in twelve months 10s. a week—the prisoner did not tell me what premium he would require for my son to go to the works, only that it would be much higher—my boy is fifteen—he went to the prisoner straight from school—he had received very little teaching in drawing, none in mechanics—I told the prisoner he would have to take him as a boy green from school—I received a long letter from the prisoner; he said my son might come back at 5s. a week, giving a time, after a lapse of two or three weeks—a gentleman came first from the defendant, then the police—I was called at the Guildhall before the Magistrate—my son went with me—I heard during the first three weeks the defendant was at. Brighton ill with the fever, and I said that at the Police-court.

Re-examined. I heard it from my son—after that I constantly inquired, and could not find where he lived—I called and saw Stanwell in September; he said he was the prisoner's clerk—I received this letter (Expressing sorrow that prisoner was out when prosecutor called, and astonishment at complaints, stating there was outside slander, and that prosecutor had acted unadvisedly, or he would not have inquired previously as to his son's diligence; that he ought to be very grateful, after the expense incurred, and hoped, prosecutor would withdraw his unwarrantable remarks)—I never wrote to inquire as to my son's diligence—I had not then seen the time sheets—the prisoner did not say where the works were—I took it for granted the boy would ultimately go into the works—I saw from the correspondence the works were indicated—"Works, Bermondsey" was on the paper, and "Engineering Department. "

WILLIAM CHARLES WILTSHIRE . I am the son of the last witness—I am fifteen years old—on 11th April I went with my father to North, Nash and Co., 147, Aldersgate Street—I had written for the situation—I saw the prisoner; he said he was the managing partner—he said I should be taught metal work, carpentering, and mechanical drawing, and in six months I should be put on the staff, and should be sent out to depots to take quantities and measure houses, and receive 7s. a week—I had seen the printed heading, "Works, Bermondsey"—father said he would like me to go to the works—the prisoner said the premium would be much higher if I went there, that he had many applications, and he could not give us more than 24 hours to decide—my father signed the agreement, handed over a cheque, and I went there on 17th April—I found there a Mr. Stanwell, and a young fellow named Hare, about eighteen or nineteen—I understood Stanwell was a clerk, and Hare another clerk—I had to copy out some agreements for house agents—I

made about twenty copies of one, and twenty copies of another—then I copied block letters, printing characters from a copy-book on a sheet of paper to improve my hand; it was not steady enough—it was three weeks before I saw the prisoner there—he said he had been ill with the scarlet fever; he did not write to father because he thought each day he would be better, and return to the office—he said he was going to get my instruments and drawing boards, so that I could get on with the mechanical drawing—a few days afterwards he brought compasses and drawing boards—he called me into his room, and showed me a drawing of Forbes's gas engine, of which I had to alter the cylinder, and I had to make a tracing, leaving out certain parts—I did two parts, and Wadkin, another pupil, went on with it, and I was set a different drawing—I had to trace the drawings and copy them afterwards—they were drawings of machines or engines—they were on ordinary sheets of paper—there was nothing to show whose works they were—I had to copy some schedule prices, and do quantities as to North London Railway, to copy a Great Northern Railway looking apparatus, and copy prices into a ledger—that took three or four months—I filled a good many-pages—the book was marked outside "ledger"—I had other drawings to do and at different scales—I had to draw some signal gear and some blocking apparatus—they were marked "G. N. B. "on the top—I had to draw a mahogany bath top to scale, from the bath top itself—a joiner came to make one—the prisoner took the drawings into his room—he occasionally brought them out to show other pupils—there were three other pupils after Hare left—they were there three to four months—they were engaged in the same kind of work—I made five or six copies of the bath top, the sides, the top, the front, and two or three other elevations—one the prisoner said I should have to take more care over, or the smith would not be able to work from it properly—I saw no smith and no works—the prisoner said they were at Bermondsey—I saw at the top of a cash book, Launch Yard"—the prisoner told me to keep a diary every Wednesday and Saturday—these are some of the diary sheets produced—he first called me into his room and dictated to me the way I should do it—he made alterations—put something in and took something out—he said whatever he told us personally, we should put down—it represented what we had done—"I arrived each morning punctually at ten, except Saturday, when I was five minutes late, and went away at four"—"during the week I received personal instructions from Mr. Cleveland how to do the various jobs properly I was engaged upon, when he pointed out faults and made corrections for me"—I went on drawing mahogany bath top and so on—we always had to begin like that whenever he gave us-instructions—we always had to say, "During the week," & c—on 10th I put: "I received no personal instructions from Mr. Cleveland "because he went away—he was sometimes away two or three days a week—I also kept time-sheets like these (produced)—he told us how to make them oat—the red ink was when I was only a short time on a fresh job; over fifteen minutes—I cleaned a small machine—I do not know what it was for—it was not used—I cleaned it for a week, and then left off—the prisoner told me to clean it—Cameron went on with it—he cleaned it about the same time—it was there when I left—it was not clean—there were other machines there—there was a small room about six feet long, which was used for a carpenter's shop—I helped to clean it—a joiner was

there one week making the bath top, the one I drew—I had no instructions in carpentering—I had to watch the plumber eight or ten days—he was making a boiler or cistern, and I stopped to help him finish—that was all the metal work I saw—I complained to my father—he came and saw Mr. Stanwell—the prisoner was away—a few days after, he came back and gave me a note to take my father; the long letter that he was trying to suppress outside slander, and that I should come back in two months, and start at 5s. a week, hare another young fellow under me, and teach him the drawing I had done, and he would write and tell mo when.

Cross-examined. The diaries and time-sheets are true—the first three weeks I had not much to do—Mr. Stanwell gave me something to do—after the prisoner came back he dictated a duty sheet—I was occupied most days, some days not much—frequently I received instructions from the prisoner in drawing and other matters—I went messages; once to Gower Street—the prisoner said he was doing something at Colonel Laughton's, at Gower Street—I had to account for my time out of the office—when I went messages I had to put it in red ink—I knew what a "cross-section" was before I went there—I went to school at St. Mark's College—the prisoner praised me, and said I was a diligent boy—I was a sort of monitor, or leading hand—I had to sign the diaries and time-sheets, and make reports—the prisoner was always ready to give me information—he understood engineering and' drawing—I heard he had served in the-locomotive works on the North London Railway—not that he had been employed in the locomotive department of the South-Western Railway, but at Siemens—I have not seen his catalogues at the Inventions Exhibition—I saw his instantaneous boiler—he told me my father had complained; and as my father did not seem satisfied, I had better remain away a short time, and that he would write in answer to my father—I took the letter—he said if I liked to come back I should have 5s. a week, and that I had been a good steady boy—there was a japanned bath upon which I worked as a specimen, and a portable oil cooking stove.

Re-examined. Stanwell showed me a lamp and some pipes through a boiler, which he said was the instantaneous boiler—the plumber made it while I was there—it went away, I think to Grosvenor Road—I complained to my father because I aid not have proper work arranged in the agreement—I was to have engineering and metal work, and receive instructions—I learned nothing I did not know, only I Was told I did not know how to file properly—this is the drawing that I made while I was there—having learned to draw, machinery would be useful to me as as engineer—I only received a very little instruction upon that—I saw some workmen at Clapham one day, they were employed to write a name on the depot—that was at Clapham Park Road—I was sent to see if it was properly done—I do not know of the workmen being paid at the end of the week—only a plumber and joiner were there—they were employed by the prisoner—the joiner was about to make a mahogany bath top.

ELIZABETH COLE . I am the wife of Edward Cole, a retired licensed victualler, at 50, Leconfield, Highbury—in May last I saw this advertisement in the Daily Telegraph, "Youth wanted," etc. (similar to the others)—I wrote an answer to that, and got this reply, "Call and see our managing

pariner"—I went to the address—I saw the defendant—my son was not with me that time—I said I had come about the advertisement—he told me I should have to pay £18, and that my son would have to attend at the office three months to learn drawing, then he was to be three months at the works at Bermondsey—he said he would learn drawing—I said I wished him to learn the practical part—he said he would learn the practical part at Bermondsey—I asked him what prospect he would have—he said, after six months he might be worth from 5s. to 17s. or 18s. a week, according to. the progress he made—I said I would send him and a cheque—he said I should have to get two sets of calipers for the engineering or drawing, and an engineer's white suit—on 28th May I sent my son to Aldersgate Street, and this cheque for £18—that has passed through my bank, and endorsed North, Nash and Co.—I received this note. (28th May, for the son to commence on Monday next)—that was the only agreement I had—my son went on May 18th—he continued to go till 22nd September—then he came home—I sent him back on the Monday—he came back—I got this letter. (The letter was addressed to Mrs. Wadkin, and said Mr. Stanwell had complained of the boy's offensive misconduct, and they could do nothing with him, and were surprised at his coming again, as they had sent a verbal message, and asking, "If you wish us to take any further interest in your son's welfare?")—I tried to see the prisoner—I saw Stanwell—I did not send him after, because the prisoner said he would write—on 23rd September I wrote this letter from Dover. (Signed E. Cole, and stating she received no verbal complaint, asking for full particulars of the son's offence, and expressing a determination to investigate the. business thoroughly)—any name was Wadkin—I have been married a second time—in reply I received a post-card of 25th September from North, Nash and Co: "Kindly reply to the question we put to you in our letter of 22nd"—I did not reply—I called three or four times, but could not see the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I never received a memorandum of terms on which Nash and Co. would take my son—I expected my son would go to the works—their paper had "works" on it—the prisoner said he would go to the works—I am positive, and on that understanding I paid him the money—he was to go in three months—the prisoner said, "After six months he will continue with us, at a salary, in our engineering works"—he had passed three or four examinations, and I wanted him to learn the practical part—I recollect the prisoner on 23rd May saying, "I wish to know if you would object to your boy going to Bermondsey, Tilbury, or wherever required for work whenever I require him? I will pay for the boy's lodging, and you must provide for his keep"—I answered, "Not at all; I wish him to learn the practical part of the business"—my son lived at home with me—he came home every night—he was always at home—he said he did not see any business at all, he was always drawing—he was always complaining—he did not say exactly what he had to do—he said he was wasting his time, there was nothing to do and nothing to learn—he did not say he was being constantly rebuked by Stanwell for wasting his time—I complained to the police some time after lie left; two or three weeks after receiving the post-card—I had not then heard the prisoner was in custody—I went to the police of my own accord—I was taken to the Police-court to swear information by

Oldhampstead—I do not remember his saying the man had been in penal servitude; I have heard it in Court—I took an oath and signed a paper—Oldhampstead did the same—I heard him say in his evidence the prisoner had been sentenced to penal servitude—I suppose it would take about £200 to apprentice to a practical engineer—the prisoner did not say he would teach him thoroughly, but I thought it would be a good opening for him—he said the boy would go to the works to learn the practical part; that the first three months he would be at Aldersgate, the next three months he would go to Bermondsey, because I asked the distance.

Re-examined. The prisoner said Bermondsey was very easy to get at by tram—I lived in New North Road, Highbury—I married, because the hours would be long—the prisoner said the hours would be nine till eight, and from ten to four in the office—my boy only knew freehand and model drawing; he had certificates—he wished to learn engineering—I had not heard about the prisoner's convictions till I had complained to the police—I could not hear who Mr. Cleveland was, or anything about the firm.

HENRY JOHN WADKIN . The last witness is my mother—I live with her at Highbury—I went with her on 23rd May last to 147, Aldersgate Street—she said she had come in answer to the advertisement, that she wanted me to learn practical engineering or get somewhere on the way towards it—the prisoner said I should be at the office for three months to learn drawing, and then go to the works at Launch Yard, Bermondsey, the following three months, and he should) very likely want me to go to Tilbury on the steam launch now and again—the hours were to be ten to four at the office, and nine to eight at the works—mother said she was willing for me to go—the prisoner said if I made progress he would keep me at the works at a salary—on 26th May I went to the office—I saw the prisoner—I returned with the cheque and gave it to him on 28th May—no one gave me a receipt or other document—I commenced my duties the following Monday—I found there Stan well, Hare, Wiltshire, and Cameron—I was sent in the carpenter's room to draw a bath top—I was on that about a week—then I copied writing into the ledger, a kind of price list, for several days, then some block letters into a copy-book—then I helped Bruzaud with carpentering—we put up a rack in the carpenter's shop to hold pieces of wood—there were a few pieces left from the bath top—I did not see the bath top made; when the carpenter was in that room we were in the office—I went in now and again—the bath top was there when I left—young men came in as house agents in answer to advertisements—I copied a drawing of Forbes's gas engine—I remained there four months—at the end of three months I asked Cleveland to go to the works at Bermondsey—he said he could not allow me, as I could not do a drawing properly—I asked him again a fortnight afterwards—he said he had told me before, and it was no use bothering him—a week after that the prisoner sent me home—he said, "Your conduct is very bad, you must not come back till I have written to your parents"—I went home in consequence—mother was away at Dover—I went back on the Monday—the prisoner asked me what I had come back for—I told him it was to know why he sent me home—he said Mr. Stanwell would not have me in the office—he sent me home

Again—I had had no quarrel with Stanwell—Stanwell said we were noisy—he made a written complaint to Cleveland—Stanwell said we were noisy and worried him—I took a white suit With me and calipers—I have them now—I never used them there—I called several times to see Cleveland—I never saw him—one of the baths had gone, and "Wilson and Co. "was painted over the windows in large letters—that was one Friday, about a week after I had seen Cleveland.

Cross-examined. Stanwell constantly complained of me—he was there when I went, and when I left—when Cleveland was away I had to obey Stanwell's orders in everything—I was present when he was called at the Guildhall—he said I was idle and disturbed the others—the second time I asked the prisoner to go to some works he said, "You must not be insolent to me"—he did not say, "I will not allow you to be insolent to me"—he gave me a message to my mother—I wrote to my mother—I told the prisoner I had given her his message—I had not seen her—I did not go back because I was afraid my mother would be angry when she heard of my idleness—my stepfather, Mr. Cole, is alive—I kept time sheets and a diary—they are not all true; I knew that—Wiltshire told me to write it—he dictated it—it was done to deceive—I did not think it would be shown to my mother or father—"I received personal instructions "was untrue—I did not receive them—I went in with the drawings, and he pointed out the faults; but he did not show me how to correct them—some were true—I was paid my expenses—I went to "Ox bridge Road to stain the floor of a depot—we all had to put: "During the week I received instructions from Mr. Cleveland"—he did not point out faults every week, he was not there some weeks; when he was there I received instructions; when he was not there Mr. Stanwell was—I never went to Mr. Stanwell—I could have gone—he is a man of fifty years—he told us what to do—we did something every day—Cleveland was there generally two or three times a week—a house agency business was carried on—I did not Bee any books of advertisements—house agents called there—there was a joiner there making bath tops for a month—I saw a plumber there several weeks—we had not the opportunity of seeing work done—we were in another room—we were set to do other work.

Re-examined. Wiltshire told me to put at the end of the diary every week, "During the week I received personal instructions from Mr. Cleveland, "not whenever I received them—we put, "During the week," etc., in some, because we knew the form—I think the joiner made two bath tops—one remained there—I do not know what became of the other—the depot at Uxbridge Road was a shop with "North, Nash and Co. "on the window, and "House Agents"—Howe, a witness was there—some weeks the prisoner did not come to the office—he stayed about ail hour—I went to Minton Street Middle Class Schools—I did freehand drawing and models—I did not draw machines nor landscape—I found machines difficult to draw—the drawings were to learn from, not to be sold—I never heard of a customer giving an order for a gas engine—the drawing I did was from another.

EDWIN GEORGE BRUZAUD . I am a piano manufacturer, of 95, Cam bridge Garden's, North Kensington—I have a son, William Bruzaud, aged 16—in May last I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph for a youth to learn drawing, shorthand, etc.—I saw the reply my son got of 20th May, to call on "Mr. Cleveland, our managing partner"—I went to

the address given—the purport of our conversation was that my lad was to go to his works to be taught, as per advertisement, more especially mechanical drawing and moulding, and to go to the works at Bermondsey and receive practical instruction in casting—at Aldersgate Street the hours were to be ten to four and at Bermondsey eight to five—I said it was difficult for the lad to attend so early as eight, and after conversation it was agreed he should attend at nine, so that I raised no objection—I wrote this letter to the defendant on 27th May. (Consenting to send the lad, provided he could stop at home)—I got this reply of May 28th.(Consenting to above arrangement)—I also wrote this letter of 29th May.(Stating the son would attend on Wednesday, 4th June)—that was addressed to North, Nash and Go.—I sent my son with a letter and this cheque for £18 on 4th June—I received this acknowledgment of 4th June—my son went to Aldersgate Street regularly for about three months, when he spoke about the work he was doing—I wrote to North, Nash and Co. this letter of 9th September. (Complaining that his son was making' no progress, and he expected different results)—I received this letter of same date.(Stating it was the son's own fault through his want of Attention and extraordinary conduct, endangering the premises, and so on)—I wrote this letter of 13th September. (Stating there must be want of proper supervision to account for larking and extraordinary conduct, and requesting a return of half the premium)—I got no reply—I wrote again on 1st October, calling attention to my letter of 13th September—I had a reply, stating the matter was under consideration.

Cross-examined. My boy was under 16—he was at school at Worthing, and afterwards had a private tutor—he did not know anything of drawing—he wished to learn engineering, and had a gift that way—the prisoner said he had jobs at Tilbury and other places—I did not agree to my son roaming about without my consent—I parted with my £18 in consequence of the prisoner's explanation—what I said at the Police-court is correct.

Re-examined. I am clear the prisoner said he had works at Bermondsey, not a job—that statement influenced me in parting with my money—I saw the heading of his paper, "Works at Bermondsey"—he mentioned the outfit in acknowledging my cheque—I am not clear whether it came direct to me or through my son, but the prisoner mentioned calipers; a rule, and overall—the letters in which I applied for a return of my money Were not returned to me—I provided the outfit named.

WILLIAM BRUZAUD . I am the son of the last witness—I am sixteen years of age—on 24th May I saw the prisoner at Aldersgate Street—I said I had called in answer to his letter—he said he remembered my father coining, and he asked me what I had come about just after, he did not seem to know anything about it; I said, "I have come for the situation"—he said, "What part do you want to go in for?"—I said, "Engineering"—I asked him two or three questions, to whom I should report myself when I came the next time, what my hours would be, and he told me, and said I should have to go to the Bermondsey Works, and have to do casting and moulding for three months; that I should draw these things at Aldersgate Street, and then go to Bermondsey to see them carried out properly—the next time he said I should want overalls of peculiar cut, and a twelve-inch engineer's steel rule and calipers with my name engraved on, so that they should not get mixed with others at the

works—that was all done—then I went to Aldersgate Street—the hours were to be eight to five at Bermondsey, and ten to four at Aldersgate Street—I saw the boys Wiltshire, Cameron, and Wadkin—I first did writing to steady my hand, next I scraped pipes—old pipes, thick with rust—then I blacked them and hanged them up—that took me a week—I swept the office, and shook the carpet—I drew a bath top from the bath top itself two or three times, then did a smaller one—I took the drawings to Cleveland, and never saw them afterwards—I had to show the pieces, and how it would look when made up—I drew a signal apparatus—I swept the carpenter's shop out because we had been chipping when we put up the rack to hold pieces of deal and mahogany—after three months I did not go any more, because I was not to go to Bermondsey—my father had written and had no reply—I spoke to Wadkin about it, who said he had asked, and it was no use, then I thought it was not worth while asking—the only evidence of the Bermondsey Works was on the top of the sheets—I never heard of anybody going there, nor of work coming from there—I kept a diary and a time-sheet—Wiltshire told me—he showed me how to keep it—I had to write on the back ones, "During the week I received personal instructions," etc., because I had omitted that—Cleveland told me to when I had been there three weeks—when scraping the pipes I used the overalls—I used the rule for the bath top—I never brought the calipers.

Cross-examined. The endorsements to the diaries are not true—Cleve land told me to draw a desk, he did not tell me how to do it—I cleaned the thread of a steel barrel, I could not cut it—I did not help the plumber—I wrote that I did—I watched the plumber at 141, Grosvenor Road—I stained a floor at Clapham Park Road and Uxbridge Road, three. feet from the walls—I was not generally occupied—I looked on at things sometimes. (The diaries being read)—some are true and some are not—Cleve land told me to make the entries—Wiltshire showed me how to do it.

SIDNEY CLAYDON . I am a draper, at Feltham, Middlesex—I saw the advertisement which has been read—I answered it—I received a reply with a printed heading, "Works, Launch Yard, Bermondsey"—my wife and son went to the address given on 15th July—they reported to me, and I went the next day and saw the defendant—I said I had come to make arrangements for my son to be under Mr. Cleveland's personal instruction in mechanical drawing, and work at the bench and electricity—Cleveland said, "I will teach him mechanical drawing under my personal supervision"—I agreed to send him—he was to be there at eight, and six months at Aldersgate Street, and then to be sent to the works at Bermondsey—the defendant said he had works at Bermondsey and at Tilbury, not a job—he said the firm were constantly bringing out new patents—I handed the defendant this cheque for £25 for the premium—he said my boy would require a pair of calipers and a steel foot rule—I received a telegram from Gravesend that the boy was not to go, Cleveland was not at home—he never went—I received a receipt and a memorandum agreeing to take my son into the works, and personally instruct him under "our managing partner and engineer" in mechanical drawing for six months, and then pay him six shillings a week—I received a further telegram from Margate, that Cleveland would "not be back till Wednesday, your son need not attend till then"—I went myself—I told Cleveland I was not satisfied on receiving those telegrams, I did not consider it was business—he said he was very sorry I had those ideas or

feeling's, I asked him if he really had any works at Aldersgate—he tried to evade the question—I pressed him—he said, "No"—I said I was not satisfied, and I should not let my son come there, could we make an arrangement for him to return, me part of the money; he said he must lay it before his partners, because I had made the cheque pay able to "North, Nash and Co.," and if I would put my wish on paper it should receive attention—he said, "I have no works here, our works are at Bermondsey"—I wrote this letter on September 9 (Asking for a return of £20, allowing £5 for any expenses North, Nash and Co. might have been put to, and for the return of the drawing sent)—I received this post card.(That" on Mr. Cleveland's return to London the matter will be dealt with")—on 13th October I wrote this letter. (Stating he was advised to put the matter in the hands of the police, "but await your reply before doing so")—I got no answer—I never got a penny back—I called twice—I could not see the defendant—I saw Stanwell.

Re-examined. If I had received a cheque for £25 I should have taken it on the terms of my letters—I would now—I took no proceedings in the County Court, (deposition read, including the passage: "I said, 'Have you any works at all at Bermondsey? he said, 'We have, works all over the place, wherever our work comes in there are our works, sometimes at Southampton and elsewhere'")—what I said at Guildhall is right—I said to defendant, "I am not satisfied to let my son come; can we make arrangements for you to return me the money or some portion of it?"—I took my boy's school drawing to Mr. Cleveland—I have not received it back.

Re-examined. I am sure the defendant used the plural, "our works at Bermondsey," not "work" nor "job," by which I understood the place where he carried on the manufacturing—I was also influenced by the printed words, "Works, Bermondsey" on his paper—I did not sue him for a total failure of consideration.

HARRIET SOPHIA CAMERON . I am a widow, of 466, Lower Woolwich. Road, Charlton, Kent—I saw the advertisement, wrote to the address given, and received letter of 20th May, telling me to "call and have an interview with our managing partner, Mr. Cleveland," signed "North, Nash and Co."—I went with my son—he is fifteen years old—I said to the defendant, "I wish my son apprenticed to the engineering"—the defendant said he would learn in the. office the technical work for three months, and after that he could go to the works at Bermondsey—he said North, Nash and Co. had taken him, owing to his abilities, as a partner; the business was engineering, which was carried on at Bermondsey—I was satisfied with the-statement, and gave him 18, £10 in notes—I sent my son—a little over three months he sent him home—he sent me a message by post—I went to see him at his request—he said my son had offended Mr. Stanwell, would I make him £2 or £3 recompense?—I asked him if my son had behaved rudely to him—he said, "No," and the boy was to return—on arriving home I found a letter and a telegram stating I was to send a crossed cheque for £5, payable to North, Nash and Co.—I instructed my son to make inquiries—I received this letter of 15th September.(Stating, that the son called about the £5, but no information would be given him, asking for the cheque, and stating the son could see Cleveland at two o'clock)—I did not send the cheque—I received this post-card. (Requesting

that the son should not call "till you hear from me")—I tried, but could not find Cleveland.

JOHN CAMERON . I went to Aldersgate Street after the premium had been paid—at the defendant's suggestion I took a suit of overalls and some tools—I remained there three months—I did odd jobs, swept the office, and helped the carpenter—I was drawing from his work—he was making a bath top—I did no engineering—I started to draw Forbes's gas engine—I had to correct mistakes in the bath top—I had to leave it off—I was a couple of months drawing the bath top—Cleveland told me to write from his dictation, that I was not to "let out" the firm's patents or secrets—that was not signed—I paw the defendant once or twice a week, sometimes three times—he stayed from half an hour to an hoar—I saw no electrician's work going on—at the end of three months I asked him if I could go to the works at Bermondsey; he said I was not qualified in drawing—I told him I was learning nothing; he said I attempted to set fire to the premises, which I denied, and he sent me home for it a day or two afterwards—the fire was in the stove—there were no squibs—he said there were no works at Bermondsey—the workshop was the plumber's room where the carpenter worked and where the drawing office was—he never said that till I asked to go to Bermondsey—before that he said there were works at Bermondsey—I did not behave rudely to Stanwell—Stanwell made no complaint of my be having rudely to him.

Crow-examined. I have not been a deal of trouble to my mother—she never told me she did not know what to do with me—I am fifteen years old—she never told me so before Stanwell—I was there with Wiltshire, Wadkin, and Bruzaud—there was some smoke from the stove, and Stan well told me to put the fire out—no neighbours came in about it—I had lit the fire to harden a chisel which the prisoner sail was spoiled, and told me to harden.

Re-examined. The fire was in the stove in the plumber's shop—Stan well complained of the smoke—I went to ask Stanwell how I had hurt his feelings; he said he did not know anything about it, and did not wish to—he said he had not complained.

EDWARD HOWE . I am a clerk, residing at 4, George Street, Black-friars—in April last, in answer to an advertisement in the Daily Chronicle, I called on the defendant in Aldersgate Street—I conversed with Mr. Stanwell, and then the defendant, about opening a depot—it was to be an office and show-room for gas stoves and other articles-of the prisoner, and to take orders for the removal of furniture, house decorating, and letting—by a verbal agreement with the prisoner I took premises at 42, Clapham Park Road—the agreement for the house was in writing—the rent was £60 a year, and taxes—I took it for six months certain, with the option of taking it on lease at the expiration of six months—the prisoner did not say I was to take it in his name—if business was not profitable he was to take it out of my hands, so that I should not lose anything—I signed the agreement, and made myself responsible for the rent—I was there six weeks before the defendant sent anything to make it look like a place of business, then a portion of a bath and a portion of a desk and counter, one and a half yards long, came, and that was all that was done—a small bracket and a couple of yards of common carpet came afterwards, and a month or six weeks on the windows was painted

"North, Nash and Co."—I sent in one order, which was not executed for a bath—the landlord distrained, and the premises were closed fourteen days after the last quarter day—the landlord put the brokers in, and I went away—the word" Gas fitters, decorators, household removers; depots in all suburbs chief offices, 147, Aldersgate Street" were also painted up.

CHARLES HELLTER LE GASSEK . I am a clerk—in April, in consequence of seeing an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph, I was introduced, at 147, Aldersgate Street, to the defendant as the managing partner of North, Nash and Co.—I arranged with him to take premises as a furnished office or depot in a neighbourhood named, and he would fit it up decently for business and pay me an adequate rental for the dwelling part of the premises and give me a commission on all business done—I was to pay the rent—I selected 97, Uxbridge Road, at a rental of £65 a year—the agreement was written by Stan well, under the name of North, Nash and Co.—I insisted on it—the defendant went with me the beginning of June to inspect it—he said how it was to be fitted up, and the floor stained by the end of the week—he got the floor stained and the windows painted with the words "North, Nash and Co.," and a description of the business—I only wheat to see the progress—nothing further was done—I wrote the defendant and called several times—I did not see him after we inspected the premises—not being able to get anything done, I gave up the keys to the landlady.

CHARLES CREASEY STANWELL . I am a clerk—in consequence of seeing an advertisement, I Went to the office named in Aldersgate Street, and saw the defendant about the commencement of April—he said he was Mr. Cleveland; that he carried on the business of a house agent, decorator, gas fitter, and contractor for removals—I was to be clerk, to appoint managers to the depots which were to be opened in different parts—Whitcord and Fisher were there when I commenced attending to the house agency business—they stopped a short time—the defendant said they could not wait for results till business had been done—I appointed agents in different parts, but the depots we dropped—I then appointed shopkeepers as agents in the suburbs of London—the defendant took apprentices—Wiltshire came about a fortnight after me as a pupil to be instructed in the general business of the firm of house agents, gasfitters, decorators, removals, and fitters of bath-rooms—work came in—a carpenter and a plumber were engaged there or at the work fitting up a bath-room—then another bath-room at Kensington that was stopped by the district surveyor through not getting his consent—I saw the Heading on the paper—I never saw any works at Bermondsey—I never went to Bermondsey—I had a written agreement.(Agreement read: Not to five information or ask it as to patents, & c, or conditions of anyone's service)—It is in the defendant's writing—after Wiltshire came there was a register of houses to let and wanted, and workmen's time-sheets—there were no day, cash, ledger, or letter books, and no journal—I complained, not of any boy's rudeness, but of their neglecting their duties, their drawings and such like, which Mr. Cleveland had set them to do, and inattention—my complaints were put in writing for Mr. Cleveland and forgotten by me—Wadkin's conduct was very gross—he made accusations with regard to the stability and respectability of the firm—Cameron never mentioned assuaging my wounded feelings—I was not aware he was sent away for

rudeness to me—it is not true that he complained of my rudeness to him nor that I complained of his rudeness to me—he came to inquire why he was sent away and for what damage £5 was demanded—I said I did not know—the defendant told me he made a claim against Cameron for part payment of a debt of £3 for damage done to the premises—for the destruction of a drawing instrument, damage to the door of the workshop, and other things—I saw no engineering or electrical works—I had my instructions in writing as to my duties—this document is a precis of my duties in my writing from the defendant's dictation (Giving the witness general supervision of pupils and directions as to answers he should make to inquirers, including the reply that "this office would lose if orders went direct to the works")—that was to be my answer to agents—I was to tell them to bring their business direct to the office (Also: "Under no circumstances could customers go to the shops," and, "Very important; see that the office was always in a business-like condition")—the name "Wilson & Co. "was put up the beginning of October—the defendant said he had met with a gentleman to join him as an engineer in conjunction with North, Nash and Co.—all but the "Co. "of that name was then erased, and then it became A Wilson and Co."—fresh note and letter paper was printed with that name, and "Works, Vauxhall"—I saw Mr. Wilson, but not the works at Vauxhall.

Cross-examined. I have been a householder—the prisoner has not paid me the full amount due—I wrote to him for it on 20th October—I made a statement to the City Solicitor—I was called at the Police-court—I never saw indications of a dishonest or fraudulent business—I never saw the defendant till I answered his advertisement—he did his best to teach the boys—there was every appearance of qualification in him—the offices were part of the premises of Messrs. Collingridge, the proprietors of the City Press—the boys were fairly well employed—jobs went on at North Kensington, Highbury, and Brixton—the boys helped the carpenter and the plumber, and saw how the work was done—the defendant supervised the boys' work every week, I believe—the cleaning the machines was to give them practical instruction, I should say—there were patented articles there—I took an inventory of them—there were articles for show, boilers for bath-rooms, heaters, lamps, ranges, baths, angle benders, a jemmy, and other things—also a carpenter's bench, and samples of articles, and several bath-tops—work was done which would take weeks to do—fitting bath-rooms needs skilful work—in accordance with instructions, I cut out a number of advertisements of works to let—negotiations were entered into about them—the advertisements were submitted to the prisoner—Mr. Putman, of Mild may Park Works, brought particulars of his premises, which I gave to the defendant—the defendant told me he was in negotiation for premises at Kentish Town—I heard of some works at Horselydown, near Bermondsey—I kept a diary—the defendant was looking about for works, I understood—during the first three months the boys did not complain to me—the name "North, Nash and Co. "was up when I went, and when I left "A. Wilson and Co. "was put up on one side of the entrance—I remained till the prisoner was taken into custody—a great many shopkeepers were engaged as agents on commission—they were appointed by inspectors to my knowledge—there was every attempt to start and carry on a genuine business in every way.

Re-examined. There was no business when I went that I am aware of—the tradesmen appointed agents were to take orders for decorating, "bath-fitting, and the business generally—no orders came from them to my knowledge—there were three bath-room jobs—the two depots spoken of were the only depots I knew of—I understood the defendant was to fit them up—he never told me why he had not done it—I knew he had not done it—the orders went direct to the defendant; I do not know in what books he entered them—I know of Do book—I never saw money paid for them—my salary was a commission on orders executed, and a guarantee of a minimum of £20 a quarter—I never got it—I frequently spoke about my salary—he hoped business would improve, and that he would be in a position to remunerate me properly—I knew the boys paid premiums—t never suggested he should give me some of it—the machine the boys cleaned was for bending iron—it was not used to my knowledge—I made out a list of works advertised—I presume these are they pasted on paper (produced)—the dates are on them—most of them are in June—the defendant never told me why he had not taken any of them—the drawer of this cheque is Rouse; it is dated 4th June, 1890—on 14th April, when that cheque was paid in, his balance was 14s. 4d.; £18 was drawn out before that.

Cross-examined. I. have known the defendant about two years and a half—he had an account in 1888, it was transferred to the Oxford Street branch in April from the South-Western branch; that was in the name of J. H. Lock only—the account was closed for a short time, and then it was opened by him in the name of J. H. Lock, trading as North, Nosh and Co.; he told me that the firm was his, and that was the name in which he then traded; he signed "John H. Lock, trading as North, Nash and Co."

HERMAN RICHARD WYATT . I am chief clerk of the Aldersgate Street branch of the London and County Bank—the defendant hid an account there since Apr. 1, 1889, in the name of John Henry Lock, trading as North, Nash and Co.—I produce a certified copy of his account from January 1st this year, when he had overdrawn is 17s. 6d.—on July 26th £25 was paid in, and on October 7th £14; those are the only sums paid in—the £25 cheque was Mr. Clayden's on Hill and Co.

Cross-examined. He was introduced by his father—we never open an account without a reference—his father had an account at our Croydon branch—there was no mystery about, his name—when he opened the account he signed in one place: "John Nash and Co.," and in. another, "John Henry Lock"—it was opened in the name of Lock, Nash and Co.

ALFRED GEORGE HAYMAN . I am manager of the Oxford Street branch of the London and South Western Bank, 44H, Oxford Street—in January, 1890, the defendant opened an account there as John Henry Lock, trading as North, Nash and Co.—I produce his pass-book—the account was opened on 25th January with £50, and on February 3rd £20 14s. was paid in, making £70 14s.; several small cheques were drawn, and on April 1st the credit balance was £2 14s. 4d.—on 14th April we charged him for keeping the account, and on that day £29 was paid in, and on 23rd May £10; on 24th, £17; on 28th,£18; on 6th June, £18; bringing up the total at the end of June to £112 14s. 4d.—that was exhausted by small drafts, leaving a balance on July 1st of £47 13s. 8d.—between

July 1st and October 1st he paid nothing in, but drew cheques, which reduced his balance on October 1st to £5 4s—on October 7th he drew out £3, and on the 9th October £2, leaving 4s. balance, and that is the present state of the account—the cheque for £18 passed through our bank, and he was credited with it—this is a cheque of Elizabeth Cole, dated May 28th, 1890, and this for £15 is dated 14th April, 1890.

THOMAS VALENTINE NOLAN . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Collingridge, printers, 147, Aldersgate Street; I produce an agreement of tenancy at 147A, Aldersgate Street, dated February, 1889, between the defendant and that firm, at a rent of £55 a year; the rent was regularly paid to Midsummer last—the Michaelmas quarter was not paid.

Cross-examined. We had references with him; I produced those at the Police-court—the premises were on the first floor—one was Mr. Becks, consulting engineer, 115, Cannon Street.

WILLIAM OLDHAMPSTEAD (City Police Inspector). On 17th October, shortly after two in the afternoon, I saw the prisoner in the Old Jewry; I told him I was a detective officer and had a warrant for his arrest—I read the warrant to him—he said, "This is a conspiracy of these four lads against me; what do you know about it?"—I said, "Nothing further than my inquiries go"—he said "What are those?"—I said, "As regards the works you have long carried on in Vauxhall"—he said, "I have no works outside the City"—I took him to the station, and he was there formally charged with this offence; he made no reply to the charge—he was asked for his address—first of all he said, "James Cleveland is my trading name"—I said, "We want your proper name"—he then gave it as John Henry Lock—I said, "Your address, please"—he said he had no address in London; that he was staying at Marine Cottage, Brighton—I searched the premises in Aldersgate Street—one letter was found on the prisoner; some letters were found on the premises—I searched for the purpose of discovering business books, day books, ledgers, and so on;. I discovered none.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Cole was the first person who complained to me, the mother of the boy Wadkin—she and the boy and myself swore the information on which the warrant was granted—at that time I had received no complaints from the other three boys—I have ascertained that the prisoner's father is a gentleman of very great respectability—he was at that time living at Marine Cottage, Brighton; I don't know whether he is there still—I made inquiries as to the sufficiency of the bail—prior to that he was living at Anerley—I found at the office a great number of house agency matters, but no books relating to the engineering—I found three or four books and a lot of papers; I did not take away all that was there; there were time-sheets, drawings, and a great many other things.

Witnesses for the Defence.

SIDNEY PHIPSON . I am a barrister, and have chambers at 7, King's Bench Walk—I know the prisoner, as Lock, and also as North, Nash and Co.—Mr. Francis Mowatt, late M.P. for Cambridge, is a relative of mine; he now lives at 6, Portland Place, he is nearly 90 years of age and not able to attend; I have attended to his affairs—Mr. Lock has undertaken several contracts for Mr. Mowatt, in 1888 and the early part of 1889, in Warwick Square and Portland Place, and also at Milford Haven—sometimes I paid him, sometimes Mr. Mowatt—it amounted to £130 of

more—I should say Mr. Lock is a man of exceptional competency in his work, always up to time, and particularly reasonable in his charges, and one of the best contractors I ever remember; his work was always done most satisfactorily—I am a voluntary witness in this case.

Arthur Darkin, confidential clerk to Mr. Pack, locomotive superintendent of the North London RailwayLuke Longbottom, chief locomotive superintendent of the North Staffordshire Railway, and nine other witnesses also deposed to the prisoner's skill and knowledge in his profession, in which he had been engaged for many years.


THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-51
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

51. SAMUEL FITCH (24), CHRISTOPHER SHARP (24), and GEORGE GODFREY (24) , Stealing a van, horse, tarpaulin, ten pockets of sugar, a bag of sugar, and two half cases of prunes, the goods of Albert Wilmot.

MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. PUECELL Defended.

GEORGE HENRY ALLEN . I live at 14, Maud Road, Plaistow, and am a clerk in the Great Eastern Railway, cartage department—on 14th October, about eleven a. m., I handed Tresidder, Messrs. Macnamara and Co. 'scarman, orders for collecting certain goods; among them were orders for ten pockets and a bag of sugar at St. Bride's Wharf, Wapping, and two half cases of prunes and a hogshead of sherry from the British and Foreign Wharf, Upper East Smithfield—about six o'clock the same evening Tresidder came back without his van and complained of the loss of it.

CHAELES BLANKS . I am a clerk at St. Bride's Wharf, Wapping—on 14th October, in consequence of the receipt of these orders, I delivered to Tresidder ten pockets and a bag of sugar, and took his name in this book as the carman receiving the goods.

JOHN EYRE PASCOL . I am clerk to the British and Foreign Wharf, East Smithfield—on 14th October I received this order from Tresidder, and delivered to him two half cases of prunes between four and five p. m.; he signed this book, showing he received the goods.

ERNEST EDWARD TRESIDDER I am a carman in Messrs. Macnamara and Co. 's employment—on 14th October I went with a one-horse van to St. Bride's Wharf about four p. m.—I there obtained some sugar on these orders—I then drove to the British and Foreign Wharf, arriving there at a few minutes to four—I went into the office, and handed in the order for two half cases of prunes—my van was outside the office from four till five—I was outside all the time except when I went in first to lodge the order—I saw Godfrey and Sharp there for about that same hour—about five I got up in my van, and drove to Birr Street, opposite the wharf, in the direction of Nightingale Lane—as I drove off I saw Godfrey and Sharp following behind the van on the footway—half-way up Birr Street Fitch came up and called out, "Stop"—I drew up—he asked me whether I was going back to the Great Eastern Station; I said, "Yes "he asked me to give him a lift, as he was going back to the station with orders—I believed that, and consented—when I got to the King George public house, at the corner of Birr Street and Nightingale

Lane, Fitch asked me to have a drink—I was wearing spectacles—I said, "Yes," and drew up the van at the opposite corner to the public-house, and I left it unattended while I went in with him—he called for mild and bitter for me and a small lemon for himself—he said he thought the lemon was rather small for the money, and entered into conversation with the lady who served it—that took a little time; she filled it up with some ale—he drank it, and then said he wished to go outside to make water, would I stop for him?—we had been in the public-house three or four minutes—he went out by the door at which we had corns in, and from which he could see whether the van had gone—I waited about two minutes for him, just time enough to drink my ale—he did not come back—I went out by the same door, and my van had gone; Fitch was nowhere to be seen—I went at once to the police-station, and reported the matter about 5.30, and I reported it to my employer on my return home—the goods were consigned to Mr. Wilmot—this is a plan of tie locality.

Cross-examined. This Tuesday was the second day I had driven for my employers—I am a clerk, but recently I took to the occupation of carman—this was the first time I had been to the British and Foreign Wharf—I come from the country—there were about fifteen other vans waiting there, I should think—about twenty-five or thirty men and van boys were waiting about by the vans—I had no van boy—I did not notice more than twenty-five men waiting for employment and hanging about—all those I saw were strangers to me; the two men I saw, and who I say were Godfrey and Sharp, were absolute strangers to me; and so was the man who took me into the public-house—he was in my company about five minutes—I had no reason for noticing the men I saw outside the wharf, and who followed me; no one was by them—they were under my observation all the time I was there; I was by my van—I saw them when they were charged at the station—I am still in Macnamara's employment; but I am not acting as carman, I am in the office.

Re-examined. I saw Godfrey and Sharp at the station about 4th November; other people were with them, I picked them out.

ELLEN MARTHA WISE . I am the wife of the manager of the King George, at the corner of Birr Street and Nightingale Lane—about 4 p. m. on 14th'October, Tresidder and Fitch came in—mild and bitter and a small lemon were called for—the lemon was rather short, and I said I would give him a drop of ale to make it up—that took a few minutes then Fitch left, and a few minutes after Tresidder left—Fitch was the man I served with the lemon—next morning the police spoke to me about it—I was taken to the station, and I picked Fitch out from other people.

Cross-examined. I only went to the Police-court once, that was on the remand, and then I gave evidence—I picked out Fitch the first day I went to the Police-court, and that was two or three days or a week before I gave evidence—I cannot say I had ever seen him before he came in with Tresidder—he was three or four minutes in my place—other people were serving, and there were other customers in the house; I had to do part of the serving them—at the Police-station I saw men of all sizes, ages, and complexions in a row—I had given the police on the 5th October a description, as well as I could remember, of the man I had seen with Tresidder—I have not the slightest shadow of a doubt Fitch

is the man—the police told me to look round and be sure of the man—some of them were older, and some younger; one was quite a boy.

ALFRED CRANE . I am a carman, of West Ham Road, Leyton on 14th October I was employed by Mr. James, of Bow—about 5 p. m. I had to go to Miller's Wharf, which is next to the British and Foreign Wharf—while there I saw the three prisoners standing together at the public house at the corner of Birr Street, nearest to the wharf—I noticed Messrs. Macnamara's van standing in front of the British and Foreign Wharf—a short time after that it had gone; I did not see it go—I saw Fitch go down Birr Street, and Sharp and Godfrey behind—I lost sight of them for a moment; I was going up the street—afterwards I got up on my van and drove up Birr Street and into Nightingale Lane, passing the King George—in Nightingale Lane, about two minutes' walk beyond the King George, I saw Macnamara's van—Sharp was driving it, and Godfrey was on the pavement, a little way behind—when the van got near the top of the lane, Godfrey, whom I knew as Winch, jumped on behind, and they drove away with the van—the places marked on the plan show the spots where those things took place.

Cross-examined. I have been working for Mr. James on and off for seven years—I have worked for Tingle and Jacobs—they charged me with embezzlement: the Magistrate discharged me without a stain on my character—I did not go to see Tingle and Jacobs afterwards—I was not charged with driving off with my masters' horse, intending to dispose of it—I took the horse and van out one holiday time, the foreman gave me the privilege of doing so, but he did not "let the governor know he had done so—I was stopped and had to come back—my master sent for me next morning and kept me in his employment—I know the three prisoners—I knew Godfrey and Fitch by sight and by name, but I never spoke to them—I have known White the detective some time—I have been in Court with him before—on a former occasion I saw something and gave evidence of it—I keep my eyes open—I saw him about the port wine-before the 14th—on 15th I saw him in Leman Street—he did not know I had heard of this; be said good morning, and then I spoke to him—I knew Sharp well.

Re-examined. I was in the same service as Sharp for some time, and knew him perfectly well—I have no doubt whatever he was the man who was loitering outside the public-house, and driving the van—the other two prisoners I had known by sight. and name for some time, and I have no doubt I saw them—the charge of embezzlement was made against me over a year ago—since then I have worked for Messrs. Fairclough, doing odd jobs for seven months, and I was employed by Mr. Samuel George and then by Mr. James of Bow—I saw White about the time of the port wine matter, which was about a month before 10th October—that was a robbery of port wine from a van which was carried off; just such another robbery as this.

JEREMIAH SULLIVAN (H R 7). On 14th October, at 7.10, I was on duty in Pinchen Street, St. George's—I found Macnamara's van and horse unattended in the street; nothing was in the van—Pinchen Street is about 600 yards from Nightingale Lane.

JOHN WILLIAM OUTRAM . I am a clerk employed by Macnamara and Co.—the contents of this van were consigned to Mr. Wilmot, and were valued at £12 15s. 11d.

STEPHEN WHITE (Sergeant H). On 28th October I was with Sergeant Cumner, and my attention was attracted to Godfrey and Sharp—in consequence of what I saw them do they were both arrested—on 29th they were brought before the Magistrate and remanded—after the remand I saw Fitch outside the Police-court speaking to some women whom I knew as friends of Sharp and Godfrey—I went up to him, he made off when he saw me coming—I went after him—as I came up to him he, said, before I touched him, "I can prove where I was the day the wine went"—there had been a port wine robbery in the neighbourhood—I said, "I shall take you into custody on suspicion of stealing a horse and van containing a quantity of sugar in Birr Street, on 14th October, and also stealing a van containing wine"—he said, "I can prove I was at the Tilbury depot the day that the wine went, and if you go there you will find what I say is true"—that was in August—I took him to the station, where he was charged—in his trousers pocket was found £4 10s. in gold, loose, 1s., and some coppers—these two pieces of paper were taken from his vest pocket, "Beans, £3 2s; Cordmans, £1 9s"—he was afterwards identified by some witnesses—on 12th November, Godfrey and Sharp were charged on the charge sheet with this offence—they had no opportunity of answering it.

Cross-examined. They were not charged with this offence before 12th November—I had seen them on the Wednesday, 22nd, and Saturday, 25th, the week before they were apprehended on the 28th—I daresay I have known Crane longer than two or three years—he has given evidence twice before, I think, in cases in which I was officer—I don't think he has given me information on occasions when he has not been a witness—I don't think Cumner ever saw him till I introduced him in this case—Cumner has not been so long in the division—I spoke to Crane first on 15th October—when I overtook Fitch he thought I was charging him with the port wine matter, and he spoke before I told him what I was going to take him for—I arranged the men for the witnesses to see them—I placed the prisoner among men fairly resembling him.

Re-examined. We are dependent on men we can get—I first knew Crane when I arrested him on the charge of embezzlement—he was discharged, and the Magistrate said the evidence went to show he had paid the money.


Fitch* and Godfrey* then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in May, 1889, and Sharp in November, 1889. FITCH— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-52
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

52. GEORGE GODFREY and CHRISTOPHER SHARP were again indicted, with JOHN DREW , for stealing a shoddy mattress and other articles, goods of the Great Western Railway Company.

MR. C. MATHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. PORCELL Defended Godfrey and Sharp.

THOMAS CUMNER (Detective Sergeant). I was with White on 28th October in the Commercial Road, and saw the three prisoners on a refuge in the roadway—they went to the side of the road where there is a public-house, the Brewery Tap—one of Messrs. Macnamara's vans was in front of it—the prisoners went down Church Lane into Colchester Street—a Great Western Railway van, loaded with cases, was standing in front of the Horse and Groom there—the prisoners looked into the windows of

the public-house, then Godfrey leaned on a post at the corner of Colchester Street and Church Lane—Drew caught hold of the horse's head and led it five or six yards—Sharp went round to the other side and took the reins off the horse's and was about to mount on to the driver's seat of the van when someone ran out and holloaed, "Woa, woa"—one of the prisoner's said, "Your horse way just off"—the prisoners then went into the Whitechapel Road—when the van was in Colchester Street I saw neither driver nor van boy—the prisoners went to outside the public-house kept by Ellis Brothers—outside that a van was being un loaded—then they went into Gardiner Street—I there caught hold of Godfrey, but said nothing to him—he said to me, "I have done nothing; what are you arresting me for?"—I said, "At present for being a suspected person"—he replied, "Oh, all right, if that is all "he went to the station.

Gross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The van was in Colchester Street, and a little way from the door of the public-house a little higher up—I and White were in a covered van in Church Lane—it was about 5.30, and dark, but the lamps were alight—Saunders was carman of that van; he-was not there then.

STEPHEN WHITE (Detective Sergeant H). I saw the three prisoners on Wednesday, October 22nd, and on Saturday, the 25th, with two other persons—on the 28th I and Cumner followed them in a covered van which Crane drove—I first saw the prisoners on the refuge, and followed them to the places that have been mentioned, till they were arrested in Great Gardiner Street—I have heard Cumner's evidence, it is correct—I took Sharp and Drew and charged them; they said nothing—I gave evidence the next day, the 28th—they were remanded till the 5th, and then till the 12th, when the charge which has just been disposed of was preferred.

Cross-examined by Drew. Your name was mentioned in the charge on the former day.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. At first they were charged as vagrants, and afterwards with this offence.

Re-examined. At that time the driver of the van was not present; the charge was preferred after, and when I found him—I saw this van unattended outside the Horse and Groom; I believe the van guard. came out, or somebody very much like him; he was smoking a cigarette.

ALFRED CRANE . I am a carman; I drove these two officers in my van on 28th October—I saw the three officers together—I went from the refuge to the Horse and Groom, and saw the van outside, and the three prisoners walking round about it—a Great Western Railway van was outside the Horse and Groom loaded—there was no one there—I saw Sharp get hold of the reins and get hold of the horse's head, and then Drew and Sharp got hold of the reins, and went round to the other side, and Drew drew the horse up—the van was pulled up about half-a-dozen yards—Godfrey was on the opposite side leaning against a post—a boy came out of the public-house smoking—the driver came out of a feather place which the van was outside of, and called out, "Woa! Woa! "and the van stopped—the prisoners then went away to Ellis's public-house, and then to Gardiner Street, where they were arrested.

Cross-examined by Drew. I never saw you with these three people before.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I told the Magistrate the second time, I believe, that I saw Godfrey and Sharp tampering with the horse and van—I have never seen the van boy in Court before—I do not know if the van driver was a witness.

Re-examined. I was not a witness before to-day—it did not pay me to. tell people that I was driving policemen about in a van; we should not have been able to find them if I had told people what I was doing; it would be no good trying to catch them; a lot of their confederates were about, and I might have been assaulted—Fitch was not taken in custody till November 5th; the police were looking for him.

WILLIAM SAUNDERS . I am a carman and live at 3-J-block, Peabody Buildings—on 28th October I was in charge of a Great Western Rail way van—I went to various places, and among them to Colchester Street, Commercial Road—I got there about 6 p. m., leaving my van outside Isaac Davis's, a feather merchant, next door but one to the Horse and Groom, up at the curb and went in—I had a mattress, a cask of spirits, and other goods in the van, the property of the. Great Western Rail way.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Parrott, my van boy, is here; I left the goods in his charge when I went into Davis's—he was called at the Police-court after me by the police—the van was drawn up in front of the Horse and Groom, and I found it where I left it when I came back and nobody near it—I did not call out to anyone—I did not see it going-away.

Re-examined. I did not notice where the van boy was when I came-back; I saw him—he was inside the van when I left, I believe—when I came out he was walking in the road—I did not notice whether he had a cigarette—I could not go further down because the road was blocked—I left the horse's head exactly in front of the Horse and Groom, and the van was nearer towards Davis's—I did not notice that the van was shifted when I came out—I did not shout out "Woa! woa! "

JOHN BELLINGTON (Detective, Great Western Railway). The goods in the van on this evening were of the total value of £66 14s. 1d.

ARTHUR THOMAS PARROTT . I am employed by the Great Western Railway—I am van boy to Saunders' van—on the night of 28th October I was with the van in Colchester Street.

Cross-examined by Drew. I did not go into a public-house, I stood all the time on the pavement by the horse and van—I never noticed anyone round there.

Re-examined. I did not see the prisoners; I saw the prosecutor on the pavement four or five doors from the Horse and Groom, not opposite Davis's—I smoke very little—I smoke a pipe, not cigarettes.

THOMAS CUMNER (Re-examined by MR. PURCELL). The man who called out "Woa! woa! "ran out of the public house, because I heard the door bang shortly afterwards—one of the prisoners said, "Your horse i& just off"—I cannot say if it was the caiman.

Drew, in his defence, said that all that the witnesses had said was false; he was down there getting a night's work.

GUILTY of the attempt.

DREW— Eight Months' Imprisonment.

GODFREY and SHARP— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-53
VerdictSpecial Verdict > unknown

Related Material

53. WILLIAM LOVE, Feloniously marrying Emily Osborne, his wife being alive.

MR. HEDDON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

JOHN KENNARD . I live at Upper Lewes Road, Brighton; my daughter, Mary Ann Kennard, was married to the prisoner on March 19, 1878, at St. Peter's Church—I was present; she is here.

Cross-examined. She was 29, and the prisoner stated his age to be 23; he had the appearance of an. older man than 17 or 18—I said at the Police-court, "My eyes are dim, and I will not swear to the prisoner"—that was before I gave evidence, but I went past him and knew he was the same man—I could not tell whether the man I saw was the man or not. (The witness went close to the prisoner, looked at him, and said, "Yes.")

WALTER LEE (Police Inspector N). On 31st October I received from Mary Love this certificate; I arrested the prisoner, and told him I should charge him with marrying Amelia Osborne, his present wife being alive—he said, "Yes, I admit it; her name is not Ashdown, it is Mrs. 'Lewis"—previous to this I got information, went to the Wesleyan Chapel, High Street, Stoke Newington, and saw the register—I then went to the Town Hall, Hackney, and obtained this copy of the register—he was charged with not maintaining his first wife, but I took him in charge for bigamy, and said, "I shall prefer a charge of bigamy against you;" he said, "Yes, I was married at a church against Book Road, Stoke Newington; neither the first nor second wife complained"—the second wife was con fined on 20th October, the day the prisoner was charged, and is unable to be here.

EDWARD LEIGHTON . I am chapel keeper at the Wesleyan Chapel, High Street, stoke Newington—I was present when the prisoner was married to Emily Ashdown.

JOHN KENNARD (Re-examined by MR. GEOGHEOAN). My daughter and her husband lived with me at Brighton for three years, I think—they lived eight years together pretty nearly—it is twelve years ago that they married—they lived together till the second marriage in 1886—after Jiving at Brighton three years they came to London—I did not visit them; my daughter came to Brighton several times—I do not know that I saw the prisoner after he left Brighton—the last time I saw my daughter was on June 4th—the prisoner did not desert her for eight years—she never showed me much money—the prisoner Went to France for three months, while he was at Brighton—I never saw them together since he went there, but after he went to France he came and lived at Brighton for two years.

EDWARD LEIGHTON (Re-examined). Mr. Gole, the registrar, was present at the marriage—I and my wife were the two witnesses.

The prisoner received a good character.Judgment respited.


Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-54
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

54. EDWARD COOPER (24), was indicted for and charged on the Coroner's inquisition with the mans' aughter of Mary Jane Lambert.


MR. DRUMMOND Defended at the request of the Court. Upon this indictment no evidence teas offered.


24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-55
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

55. EDWARD COOPER was further charged with an assault upon the same person, and occasioning actual bodily harm.

CATHERINE LIMMIS . I live at 70, Eltringham Street, Wandsworth. I knew the deceased Mary Jane Lambert—on 21st June, about five in the evening, I saw her at my door—she made some inquiry of me and I directed her to No. 66 in the same street, where the prisoner was then living—I saw her go there and knock at the door; the prisoner's wife opened it, and while they were speaking together I saw the prisoner come past my door and go to his house; he began speaking to Mrs. Lambert; I did not hear what he said, but I saw him put his thumb to his nose and spread out his fingers at her; I afterwards saw him punch her in the chest with his fist; I heard blows several times; she would have fallen but for the lamp-post; it knocked her against the lamp-post—she afterwards came into my house—the prisoner followed her in and struck her about the head with his hand and tore her bonnet off—I could not say whether his hand was clenched or open, but he knocked her about the head very much—no words passed, only blows—I told him to go out, and he went back to his own house—he was rather the worse for drink—Mrs. Lambert had an umbrella with her; I did not see her strike him with it.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Lambert was a stranger to me—I did not hear the words that passed at the prisoner's door; there are two houses between us; they were talking angrily, they were talking rather loud; I did not hear her say, "We pay our rent, and you must pay what you owe, "nor did I hear him say, "If you had given me time you would have had it"—they were not quarrelling, they were talking in a friendly way—he seemed to be drunk and was laughing; she was not laughing—she was not flourishing her umbrella about—the prisoner struck her with his fist; I saw his fist doubled up; she was standing on the kerb on the doorstep, about twenty yards from the lamp-post—he struck her at his door first, and several times from his door up to the lamp-post—they were hard blows; she did not fall down, it was not a push, it was a blow, five or six blows.

WILLIAM THOMAS LAMBERT . I am a grocer and provision dealer, at 352, York Road, Wandsworth—the prisoner lodged in my house up to April this year; at that time my wife was living with me—the prisoner Jett in April owing 24s. for lodging and provisions—4s. was paid—up to 21st June my wife was in very good health; she was able to go about her household duties, and do everything that was required—on that Saturday evening she left home for the purpose of getting the money owing by the prisoner—she was away about an hour and then returned—her bonnet was knocked about and she seemed dazed, and she had a half-drunken appearance—I gave her a little brandy and water and she fainted away—a customer who was in the shop took her to Dr. Archer, and she remained under his attendance till 16th October—she was flushed about the face and complained of her chest—she said she had been struck in the chest—I did not notice any marks on the chest—she never recovered the effects—she lived on till 30th October, and then

died—she was never the same woman after 21st June, and never able to attend to her duties.

Cross-examined. I did not know that prior to 21st June she was suffering from heart disease; I know it now from the medical evidence—the bruises disappeared, but she was never the same woman as before—she was terribly prostrated.

THOMAS ARCHER . I am a registered medical practitioner, and live in North Street, Wandsworth—on the evening of 21st June last Mrs. Lambert came to me—she complained of having been assaulted—I examined her—she was bruised on the left aide of the head, there were two or three bumps there; and there was a slight bruise just below the euciform cartilage, slightly to the left of the blade-bone; there was extreme tenderness over the left side, and right round, but there were no marks there—on further examination I found that she had a diseased heart, and she was suffering generally from shock, a somewhat severe one—I prescribed for her, and sent her home—on the 23rd June I saw her at her own house—I considered her then in a critical condition, still suffering from shock; she had not got over it to any extent; the heart was in much the same condition—I attended her off and on until 16th October—she was better at intervals, and would then got almost as bad as ever—when I left attending her on 16th October she was better than she had been—I did not see her again till after her death—the assault described would fully account for the state I found her in on 21st June—but for the assault she would have been able to attend to her household duties as before—I was present at the post-mortem, and saw the condition of the heart—an assault on a woman with such a heart would cause actual bodily harm.

Cross-examined. The disease of the heart was of long standing, such a state of disease would get gradually worse as a rule—the outward traces of assault would disappear in the ordinary course—in a healthy woman such an assault would not be dangerous—the deceased was not corpulent, but fairly nourished—I think several blows on the chest might seriously hurt, without showing bruises.

FRANCIS THOMAS NEWBOLD . I live at 515, York Road, Wandsworth—I am a solicitor, and am manager to William Newbold, a solicitor—I was instructed by Mr. Lambert to proceed against the prisoner for an assault—on 28th June the prisoner called on me; he said that he had seen Mr. Lambert, and he had sent him to me with a view of withdrawing the summons—I said, "Well, I can't see Mr. Lambert Unless you give me an apology, then I will see him and hear what he says"—he then made an apology, and I put it in the form of a letter, this is it: "June 28th, 1890. Dear Madam,—I very much regret on Saturday last, the 21st inst., I assaulted you as I did; I beg you to accept my sincere apology, had I not had drink I should not have done it. I ask you to withdraw the summons, and I shall feel deeply grateful"—I handed the letter to Mr. Lambert—the summons was returnable on 3rd July—the prisoner did not appear, and a warrant was granted for his apprehension.

Cross-examined. If he had appeared on the summons, no pressure would have been put; the Magistrate would have been applied to to take a lenient view of the case—that was the state of things then, but it is-different now.

RICHARD FINCH (K 523). On 25th July I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest, in consequence of his not answering to the summons—I endeavoured to arrest him, but did not find him—on 30th October I found him—I read the warrant to him—he said, "She struck me with her umbrella, and made my head bleed, and I struck her twice, and she ran into a house."

FRERERICK DENNIS (Inspector Y). On the morning of the 7th November, after I heard of the death of Mrs. Lambert, I charged the prisoner with having caused her death—I said, "The Coroner's Jury have returned a verdict of manslaughter, and you will now be charged with causing her death by striking her on the head and chest on 21st June"—he said, "I don't know as I struck her on the head and chest; I know I pushed her, and she went up against the lamp-post, it is a bad thing for me and my wife and children too; she broke her umbrella over my head and made it bleed. What had I better do, sir?"—I said, "If you wish to make a statement, I will take it down, but it maybe used against you"—he then said, "I will say what I have to say when I get into Court."

THOMAS BOND . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeon, and Lecturer at Westminster Hospital on Forensic Medicine; I made a post mortem examination on the deceased woman—from what I saw of the condition of the heart, in my opinion an assault on such a woman would produce permanent injury.

Cross-examined. I had never seen her alive; the disease was of old standing; the valves were very much indurated and enlarged; it must have been going on for the last two years—an assault on her in October would have been dangerous, also if she had been assaulted in June—being unable to go about her household duties would be the direct result of the assault.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The lady came to my house on the Saturday; when I was coming home she was going on at my wife about money matters. I said, 'You are wonderfully quick round here; if you had stopped a little while you might have had some sent round. 'She said, 'We pay our rent, and you must pay yours, what you owe. I said, 'If you had given me time you would have had it. 'She got into a passion, and flourished about her umbrella. I shut the door and went in; and I went out and told her to go away. She got excited, and poked her umbrella. I caught hold of her shoulders; as soon as I let go she hit me across the head with her umbrella, and I found blood running down my face. She was poking her umbrella again, and I said, You bitch. 'I don't know if I struck her then. I went in doors and she went away."

CATHERINE LIMMIS (Re-called). This took place on Saturday, about tea time, it was light, about five—I saw the prisoner's face well—I did not see any blood running down his face, I did not notice any; I think I should have seen it if there was any—I was rather frightened by the confusion of their coming into my house—if he had blood on the forehead it might have escaped my attention. I did not notice any.

Witness for the Defence.

SARAH AGAR . I live at 64, Eltringham Street—on the evening of 21st June I saw Mrs. Lambert at the door of Mrs. Cooper's house, Mr. Cooper was there; he asked what she wanted; she said, "I have come

after my money that is owing"—tie went in and shut the door—she rapped at the door—he opened it and asked her to go away; she said, "No," and he pushed her twice in the chest with his fist; you may call it struck her—I did not notice whether his fist was closed—then she struck him with her closed umbrella on the head—I did not see any more; I went in and shut the door; the blow fetched the blood on his face; I should not call it a hard blow—he did not push her against the lamp-post; there was no lamp-post outside the door.

Cross-examined. When I first saw the deceased she was talking to the prisoner, not to Mrs. Cooper—she was outside my door when the prisoner left her—the lamp-post is opposite Mrs. Limmis's door—the prisoner did not ask me to give evidence for him at the Police-court—I was first asked on Monday last—I only knew him by coming to live near me, I know nothing about him.

GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-56
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

Related Material

56. FREDERICK PALMER (37) , Feloniously wounding Susan Murphy, with intent to murder. second count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted.

SUSAN MURPHY . I am single, and live at Robert Street, Oakley Street; I lived there with the prisoner for six months, but I lived with him eighteen months in all—on Saturday, 25th October, he gave me a sovereign to keep me in the week, and half a crown and one penny to get my boots out—I went out and met some married women that I knew; they made me come into a public-house to get a little drink in the course of the day; I could not tell the time I got home; I know it was very late; after dinner, about three or four in the afternoon—the prisoner was at home, and I had not any fire lighted, and the place was beastly dark; he was not sober—he said, "You are a pretty beauty; this place is like a pigstye; I gave you. money to keep me respectable, and you go out and drink with other people what I work hard for"—I said, "I don't allow a low thing like you to talk to me"—I aggravated him and said several things I ought not; I got up in a temper and hit him, and knocked his hat off; I called him an ugly b——, and said awful wrong things that I ought not—he said, "You ought to be glad of a chance to get a man to work hard and keep you respectable"—he did nothing to me; I hit him—I knocked his hat off, and then he struck me on the head with his hand; I could not say whether it was open or shut—he was eating a piece of cold meat, and he had a knife and fork in his hand—I struck him back, and we fell to the ground in the struggle; it has been all my fault—he threw his boot at my head when I was answering him in rude language—I got my throat scratched, but that was nothing; I aggravated him to do it; he had the knife in his hand, and that scratched me down; I really forget all about it—I was on the stairs when he threw the boot at me; he was on the landing above me as I was running down the stairs—I was afraid of him; the boot hit me on the back of the head; he was about two yards from me; that was after the scratch with the knife; he used threatening words to me, but he did not mean it—ho called me dirty, and all that, and said, "I will cut your gullet out for you if you don't give up your drunken habits"—he

said, "If you don't give up your gin drinking and associating with women, I will do three months for you, or twelve months"—I don't remember any more, I was that upset over it—these are two knives that were in the room at the time; the big one is the one that I got the scratch with.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was drunk, and really don't remember whether I scratched your face while you were eating your dinner; I had had a lot of drink—I don't remember hitting you with a broom—I know we fell together, and then I saw that my neck was cut—I said, "My neck is cut, the knife has cut my neck," and you said it would have been a good job if it had cut my gullet out—ho is sorry for it; he would not hurt me.

By the COURT. There is not a better man on the face of the earth; we were as happy as a lord when no drink was about—he was three months a teetotaler, and got all our clothes out of pawn, and his watch too—I said when I got up, "Fred, you ought not to do it"—he said, "Do what?"—I said, "Why, my neck is cut"—he said, "You have done that yourself"—I was crying and was broken-hearted; it brought me sober—I told the Inspector in his presence that he said, "I will cut your b——gullet out," and he said, "That is right, I cut your b——gullet, and I would not mind doing three months for you"—he only says that when he is in drink.

REUBEN PRESTON (Z 220). On 25th October, about twenty-five minutes past one, I was on duty in Waterloo Road; the last witness came and made a complaint to me; blood was coming from her throat from a cut about half an inch long; it seemed a simple scratch with dry blood round the wound—in consequence of what she said, I went with her to 7, Robert Street, and saw the prisoner there—the woman said nothing—I said to her, "Is this the man that did it?"—she said, "No; I did it myself by falling down on the knife"—she was very drunk—the prisoner had been drinking, but was not drunk—he said, "It's quite right, governor, she did it herself; I should be very sorry to hurt her in any way. "

FREDERICK DESOL . I am a chemist, at 36, Lower Marsh, Lambeth—on 25th October, about five in the afternoon, the prisoner came to my shop for two pennyworth of iodiform and two pennyworth of lint—he said he had had a few words with his wife at dinner, and in the scuffle she knocked his arm; he had a knife in his hand, and scratched her throat—I think he seemed tolerably sober.

JOHN BAILEY (A 564). On 25th October, about quarter-past six, I was in Westminster Bridge Road, returning from duty, and saw the prosecutrix—she made a complaint to mo, and I went with her to the New Inn public-house, where I saw the prisoner—she said in his presence, "This man has attempted to murder me at Robert Street, Oakley Street, by cutting my throat with a knife"—she was bleeding very much blood was running down over her frock, and she seemed in a very excitable condition—she had been drinking, but I consider she was sober—the prisoner said, "she has brought me to it"—I took him to the station; on the way he kept repeating, "She has brought me to it"—at the station he said, "I intend to do for her if it is twelve months to come"—he appeared to have been drinking, but I consider he was sober.

GEORGE PAYNE (Police Inspector L). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought in—the woman charged him with cutting her throat with a knife—it was bleeding, but had been strapped up—she was bleeding very much at the back of the head—she was wiping it with a cloth—the blood was running down her neck—she said, He took hold of me by my head, and held me and cut my throat"—the prisoner replied, That is right; I cut your bleeding b——gullet; I don't mind doing three months for you," and subsequently he said, "When I get hold of you I will bite your—nose off"—during the whole of the time he was making use of the most brutal, horrible language to her, and he said, "I will do for you if it is twelve months to come"—he was the worse for liquor—I afterwards went with the woman to the room they occupied, and found these two knives under the bed on the floor—the room appeared as if a severe struggle had taken place; things were strewed all about the floor, and broken crockery was there.

JOHN MARSHALL LAMB . I am acting divisional surgeon to the L Division—about a quarter-past seven on 25th October I saw the prosecutrix at the station—I took her to be sober—she had three different sorts of wounds, one on the head, one on the neck, and two slight wounds in the right hand—that on the head was situated about two inches from the middle line, and about three inches to the left of that there was a contused wound an inch and a half long, curved in shape, and reaching to the cranium—that was a scalp wound right down to the bone—it caused much bleeding—it was very contused—the hair was saturated with blood—the wound in the neck ran across obliquely, the middle line upwards to the light; that was three inches in length—the wounds on the two hands did not quite penetrate, but the middle one did—they had been bleeding, but they had been dressed with adhesive plaster—there was a scratch on the right thumb about three-quarters of an inch long, the wounds on the throat and hands were such as might be caused by a knife—the wound at the back of the head I consider was done by a boot; it was exactly the shape of the heel of a boot—in the prisoner's presence the prosecutrix said, "He cut my throat with a table knife, and he did this wound on my head with his boot; the wounds on the hands were done by the knife in self-defence."

The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, alleged that he was greatly provoked by the prosecutrix's conduct, who was drunk, and twice assaulted him, and that, getting up with the knife in his hand and in the struggle, the wounds were caused accidentally.GUILTY on Second Count.

Six Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-57
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

57. WILLIAM ALLEN (52) , Maliciously wounding William Finch, with intent to resist his lawful apprehension. Second Count, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

WILLIAM FINCH . I am one of the Surrey Constabulary—I was at the Abutter Arms, and took the prisoner in the bar parlour, and charged him with this offence—the name of the other man is Bray—the sergeant said we were police officers—we were in plain clothes—the prisoner asked for his things; they were brought into

the bar parlour—he was anxious to obtain a case which contained knives and spoons, and so that he should not use it I put it into a bag—I examined it, and saw that it contained forks and spoons—I did not see him take anything out of it; we watched him most minutely; he put the case into a bag, tied it up, and said that he was ready to go, and the sergeant led the way out of the doorway, followed by the prisoner, who said to the sergeant, "You b——, I will give you this; I will rip you up"—we were going to the station then; Bray followed, and the woman followed, and I was last—the moment I got outside, Allen made use of a second threat, and said, "You b——I will rip you up"—I saw something in his right hand and thought it was a knife; he turned towards the constable Bray and then to me, and I thought it was a fair opportunity to knock, the knife from his hand, and struck him against the muscle of his right arm; and the moment I did that he struck me on my hat and severed one of the arteries of my head above the ear, which bled profusely—I seized him by his right arm; he struggled and used fearful threats to rip me up—the knife was in his hand, and I had got him by his cuff, and he got hold of the other hand, trying to rip me up—the sergeant drew his staff and struck the knife, and after using his staff two or three times he succeeded in knocking it out of his hand—the prisoner was then secured by the cuffs—he used fearful threats, and said, "You b——, I will remember this when I come out," and he threatened to kick our f—guts out, and made a rush in the direction for that purpose—I struck him across the head to prevent him from kicking me—he was subsequently taken, and was conveyed to Guildford—I took a cab and went home, and had my wounds dressed by a surgeon, and I have been off duty ever since—I was seriously injured; I lost a great quantity of blood, about two quarts—I produce a knife which was knocked out of the prisoner's hand close to the urinal.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were perfectly sober—this was at 1.30 in the daytime.

WILLIAM HATTON . I am a sergeant of No. 2 Surrey Constabulary—I was with the last witness on 12th November at the Abinger Arms Inn—I saw the prisoner in the tap-room, and charged him with a robbery, and said we were three police officers—we were in plain clothes—he wanted to tie up his bag, and after he had done so ho said, "I am ready to go," and then he rushed at me like a madman with this knife, and said, "You b——, I will put this into you, I will b——y well rip you up"—I avoided the knife, and Finch got hold of his right arm—I drew my staff and hit him on his arm—Finch said, in the prisoner's hearing, "I am stabbed," and I saw blood streaming down his face—I drew my staff and struck at the knife—I struck him on his arm, and struck again, and hit him on his arm, and the knife dropped from his hand; and then I handcuffed him, and got a conveyance, and was obliged to tie him up on the way to the station he spat in my face several times and said, "You b——, I will do for you if it is seven years to come"—I picked the knife up in the road; I identify it as the knife he used.

ISAAC BENJAMIN CORY . I am a surgeon practising at She, in the county of Surrey—about three o'clock in the afternoon of November 12th I was called to Constable Finch; he was bleeding profusely from a wound on the left side of his head, which I examined, and found an inch and a half long, two and a half inches above the ear—it was a severe

wound, cutting down to the bone, and a small artery was severed—I dressed the wound and have attended to him since—such a weapon as this knife (produced) would cause the wound quite well—he lost a great quantity of blood, but not so much as two quarts—he has gone on very well—I have not seen the prisoners head.

Prisoner's defence. I was so drunk I do not know what I said or what I did.

GUILTY .— fifteen months hard labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-58
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

58. WILLIAM ALLEN was again indicted with CLARA ALLEN for robbery with violedce on daniel harrison, and-stealing a watch and chain, his property.

MR. DE MICHELE , for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Justice Charles.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-59
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

59. ALFRED WARD (63) , Feloniously wounding Alfred Davis, with intent to murder him. Second County with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. ELDRIDOE Prosecuted.

ALFRED DAVIS . I am a labourer, of 6, Maxwell Terrace, Lambeth—I have known the prisoner several years—I believe he lived with Emily Leman as his wife—I have known her about twelve months—on 17th November, about 6.30, she came to me and made a complaint, and I went with her to her house and saw the prisoner—he had just put his trousers on—he said, "Halloa, is that you?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "What have you come for?"—I said, "Not to insult you, only to pacify you"—he said, "If you are not soon out of it I will do for the pair of you"—I went in and sat by the fire, and he and the woman Leman began fighting—the prisoner picked up a poker from between the bed and a box, and hit Leman across the head with it—I took it from him, threw it under the fender, and sat down again—they began fighting again, and he got the poker—I got it away again, and closed with him, and laid him down on the bed on his back—he pulled a clasp knife open out of his right hand pocket, and drew it across my throat, saying, "I will do for you"—I bled, and said to the woman, "Take the knife, he has got a knife; he has cut my throat"—she took it from him, and I let go of him—I went to the hospital—I was at the station when the prisoner was charged—he said he did it in self-defence—I have still got the dressing on.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The knife was not on the table, you pulled it out of your right trousers pocket.

EMILY LEMAN . I live at 14, Felix Street, Lambeth—I have been living with the prisoner as his wife for six months—I have known Davis about twelve months—on 17th November I had been out with the prisoner—we came home between five and six o'clock—we had both been drinking, and we got quarrelling—I was afraid, because he had attempted my life once before, and I went out and fetched Davis—the prisoner and I began quarrelling again, and he took the poker up and hit me over my head with it; Davis got up and took it from him, and the prisoner and I commenced to fight again; he took the poker up and hit me again,

and Davis took it from him a second time—they struggled together on the bed, and the prisoner drew an open knife out of his right-hand pocket and drew it across Davis's throat, saying, "I will do for you"—Davis said to me, "Get out of it," and I went outside—the prisoner had got the knife all that time; he always carried it with him—I got it out of his hand before I went out, and gave it to the sergeant—I went with Davis to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I did not see you cutting your nails before Davis came into the room.

HERBERT JOHN WILLIAM NIX . I am house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—on 17th November I saw the prosecutor there at 7.15; he had a wound in his throat about 3 1/2 inches long, just across the windpipe, but through the skin and tissues only—it was not dangerous, but it was in a dangerous locality—it was bleeding a little; a small artery was cut, but nothing serious—I dressed it and sent him away directly.

CHARLES BROADWATER (L 15). On 17th November I saw Davis in St. Thomas's Hospital—he made a statement to me, and I received this knife there—I then went to 14, Felix Street, and saw the prisoner—the room was in great confusion, and the bedclothes were displaced—he had evidently been drinking; he was very much excited—I said that I should arrest him for attempting to murder Alfred Davis; he said, "What I did I did in self-defence; he tried to turn me out of my own room"—I took him to the station and showed him this knife; he said, "That is mine"—he had a bruise on his right cheek, and his face was covered with blood, partly congealed.

GEORGE LOW (Police Inspector L). I was in charge of the station when the prisoner was brought in; he was very much under the influence of drink—Leman came there; she was under the influence of drink; Davis was quite sober—I cautioned the prisoner, and wrote down what he said—he said, "I only stood in my own defence, and I was not going to stop there to be killed; she was slipping into me for half-an-hour, and nearly strangled me, and then brought this man to turn me out"—his face had a lot of blood on it; it was contused, and there was a slight cut.

GEORGE FREDERICK FARR (Divisional Surgeon L). I examined the prisoner at the station—his face was covered with blood, dry to a great extent—the front of his hat and coat were covered with blood—on washing his face, two small incised wounds began to bleed again, one on his cheek, and one on his cheek bone, which was from a very severe blow—he had a swelling on his left jaw, which, on pressing, gave him great pain—he said, "That is where the fellow got his fist into my throat to try and strangle me"—he had been drinking very much, but he was not drunk at that time.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that the prosecutrix ordered him out of the house, and he refused to go, upon which she threatened to fetch someone to turn him out, and fetched Davis, who knocked him down on the bed and nearly strangled him; that he got up, picked up his open knife off the table, and Davis tried to take it from him, and the wounds were caused in the struggle.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Two Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-60
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

60. HENRY MCGUIN (31) , Feloniously wounding Maria Jefferson, with intent to murder her.

MRSSRS. ROOTH and TORR Prosecuted.

ELIZABETH CROSS . I am a widow, of 87, Great Hubbard Street—Maria Jefferson lodged in my first floor room—she came there on November I to her husband, who had lived there some time—on November 7, about 11.20, the prisoner came and asked for Mrs. Williams—I said Mrs. Williams does not live here; she has been gone seven weeks—he said he was an inspector from Scotland Yard, and said, "I must see her"—I said, "She is a bad-tempered woman, and she owes me a lot of money"—he said, "Don't call her Mrs. Jefferson, call her Mrs. Williams"—he went up with me to the prosecutrix's room—her husband was not there, he was at work; he is a stonemason—she sat down in a chair, and he pushed her on to the bedstead, and began punching her face with his fist—she ran across to the fireplace, and he followed her with a knife in his hand, and stabbed her six or seven times on her head—I screamed, and my mother came across the road—my sister went for a constable, who took him in charge.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said that you were an Inspector from Scotland Yard, not that your goods had been moved in there while you were at Scotland Yard—I did not see the knife in your hand while you were on the bed—I did not see you pick up the knife, but I saw you drop it—it was a rusty knife, and I believe it had a white handle—I have never said that it was a large white handled table-knife—your face was not bleeding, there was no mark on it—your right hand was not cut and bleeding—when you came downstairs you asked to go out to the back yard—you did not attempt to run away, you were going to walk away, and I caught hold of your arm.

By the COURT. Mrs. Jefferson came to my house on a Thursday, and the prisoner came the next morning at 11.30.

MARIA JEFFERSON . I am the wife of John Jefferson, and lodge with Mrs. Cross—I had lived with the prisoner for twelve months, and left him the day before this, and took my furniture with me—on this Friday morning he came up to my room and said, "This is a nice thing, after my being so kind to you, to go away and live with that old murderer, "referring to my husband, who had been in prison for twelve months—I had a little hand-brush in my hand, and I hit him on the head with it, and said, "Go away"—he put me on the bed, we struggled together, and I slipped down by the side of the bed—I picked up a little dirty knife off the table and was going to hit him with it, he struggled with me and took it from me—I got up and went 'towards the fireplace, I picked up a knife off the table and said, "Go away! I will hit you with this if you don't go away;" he said, "Don't speak like that, you unkind beast! Will you come home again?"—I said, "Yes, I will"—I said that I would go back to him—I was not stabbed—I will not speak against him; he saved my life twice.

By the COURT. I mean to swear that he did not stab me; what he done was done in the struggle—I fell against a chair, I do not know how else it was done—he struck me with his hand.

Cross-examined. I asked you to give up your situation at Woodford, and come and live in London; you had no occasion to leave except to comply with my request—I said that we had £20 in the bank, and that would keep us till you got another job—you had a hackney carriage licence, and you said that you would lose it—I left your place on

Thursday morning while you were at Scotland Yard taking out the licence—I left none of your furniture behind, only the box—the property I took away belonged to both of us—I loft none of the money behind, nor even a crust of bread—of course all the money in the Post Office was in my name—I did not hear you say that you were a detective from Scotland Yard—I could not hear you speak at the door—I did not call you a b——s——when I met you at the room door; I said, What business have you here?"—I did not make a claw at your face and cut your nose and right eye, I hit you with a brush—when you pushed me I fell against a box with some iron on the edge—I did not say, "You s! I will do five years for you; I will murder you"—what I said was, "If you served me the trick I served you I should have been murdered"—I picked up an old tobacco knife from the table, and was going to hit you with it, but you kicked it on the floor—I called you a fool—you were jolly mad—I think the mark on my face was done with the iron on the box—when you took the knife from me the blade stuck in the floor and you trod on it I followed you to the street door with the hand-brush in my hand, and if I had caught you I would have given you something—you most decidedly did not strike me while the knife was in your right hand; you struck me with your fist—I had had half a pint of beer that morning—I never took up a knife to you before—the poison you put the fire because I would not explain what it was for; it was sulphate of zinc for your eyes—the iron on the box stood out an inch or an inch and a half, and I tore my dress this morning with it.

JANE MYERS . I am the wife of John Myers, of 53, Great Suffolk Street—Mrs. Cross is my daughter—early in November I heard screams in her house; I then went upstairs and saw the prisoner and Mrs. Jefferson lying across the bed; he was punching into her—I said, "If you are an inspector from Scotland Yard you must not serve a woman like this"—he got up and sat on a chair, I stood by the fireplace—he got up, ran across the room, and I saw him cutting her as hard as he could with this knife—I did not see him pick it up, but I saw it in his hand—she had come off the bed while he sat in the chair, and she was by the fireplace—I ran downstairs and called for assistance—Welbrook came and took the prisoner.

Cross-examined. The policeman arrested you outside the door, and took you back upstairs—I did not see a knife in Mrs. Jefferson's hand—she had no power to take one, she had hardly power to move—I did not see her strike you, I do not think she was able—she followed you downstairs, but the policeman had hold of her; I do not think she had power to hold anything, for loss of blood—I did not hear her call you names—I do not know whether she had bad any drink that morning.

THOMAS WELBROOK (N 304). Mrs. Cross called me, and I went with another constable to the house, and saw the prisoner fifteen yards away, with a crowd round him—I took him back to the house; the prosecutrix was standing on the doormat bleeding very much from her head and face—someone in the crowd said that he did it with a knife—I asked the prisoner where the knife was—he said, "Upstairs"—I took him up to the first floor front room, and searched and found this black-handled table-knife tying under a broken washhand basin—it is bent from a blow—blood and hair two or three inches long were hanging to it—the prisoner had a slight scratch under one eye, as if from a finger nail, but

the blood from it was not sufficient to have come on the knife—I took the prisoner to the station; he made a statement to the Inspector.

Cross-examined. I did not notice that your right hand was cut, but you showed me a bruise on your wrist—that might have been caused by your putting your hand to protect your head, or you might have done it your self in the cell—the top of the blade is broken, and these are bits of steel—if a person takes a knife from another, and it sticks on the floor, and another person puts his foot on it, that would cause it to bend or break.

STEPHENS (Police Inspector M). The prisoner was charged before me; he said, "I did it; she has £20 of mine; I have been living with her during the past twelve months."

Cross-examined. There was a graze on the back of the prisoner's right hand, which was bleeding; it was not a cut, the skin was grazed—I noticed a scratch under your left eye, which was bleeding stightly, as if it was done by a finger nail; it was a slight scratch of the skin.

CHARLES PURRELL . I am house surgeon of Guy's Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought in on November 10th, suffering from loss of blood and faintness—there were three wounds, each about one and a half inches long, on the scalp, running parallel to one another from before backwards, nearly extending down to the bone—there was another incised wound in front of her right ear, extending vertically downwards three inches, and the skin was undermined two inches forwards, making the wounds very nearly communicate with one another—she was bleeding, and she has suffered the loss of a considerable quantity of blood—the wounds were not particularly dangerous, but if they had been a little deeper it would have wounded the larger vessels, and might have been fatal—the wounds might have been inflicted with this knife, but I should have expected it to be sharper.

Cross-examined. I can see the remains of a cut on your right hand; that might be done by a pin or any sharp instrument—the wound on the prosecutrix's left ear may have been caused by your closing with her with a knife in her hand, and pulling it down—the three wounds on her head were parallel with one another, and it would be difficult to explain that by her falling against a box with a piece of iron protruding, unless she fell three times, or unless there were three pieces of iron.

The prisoner, in his defence, slated that the prosecutrix had persuaded him to leave his work at Woodford, and go and live with her in London, as they had £20 to the bank, partly her savings, partly his. That he lost his cab licence and went to Scotland Yard for another, and when he returned she had disappeared, and the house was empty, and he was left without food. That he found her the next morning, and asked her why she had left him, when she scratched him with her nails and struck him with a brush, and then picked up a knife and struck him on his hand with it, causing it to bleed; and when she raised her arm to strike him again he pulled it down, which caused the wound on her hair. That she attacked him again several times with the knife and the brush, and as hit life was in danger, he pushed her down each time, and her head came against the bedstead, and twice against a box, and once against a table.

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

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-61
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence

Related Material

61. ABELLE NAVA (33) , Feloniously shooting Alfred John Josling with a loaded revolver, with intent to murder him. Fire other Counts, charging the intent to be to maim and disable him, and to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. TORR, MR. ROOTH , and MR. BIRON Prosecuted, and MR. KEITH FRITH and MR. SANDS Defended.

ARTHUR SIMMONDS . I am a surveyor, residing at Egham—I made this plan (produced); it is correct, and this is a correct tracing from it—the distance from the boathouse, marked on the plan, to the bungalow is 78. yards, and from the ash tree to the bungalow 171 yards.

Cross-examined. I do not know a man named Barrett, he did not assist me—I' have an office, and my name is up as a surveyor.

By the COURT. I made the plan myself, and have the book in my pocket.

JOHN PHILIP CHARLES BOLLATSCH . I am a printer, of 12, Carpenter Street, Westminster—on September 28th I was one of a pleasure party on an excursion from London to Egham on the Thames—we arrived at the Catherine Wheel Hotel after one o'clock, and had dinner there, after which I proceeded along the towing-path with my party as far as Egham Lock—we got there about 4.30—my brother was my sole companion, all the others were neighbours—Edward Birch, David George, and William Bloomfield were in the party, and also the man who was shot, who I knew by the nickname of Jos; I found out that his name is Josling—when we were returning to the Catherine Wheel to have tea we met the prisoner and a woman, whom I have since heard is his wife, and Mr. add Mrs. Crutchley—I did not see Edward Birch do anything, but there was a row going on with the prisoner's wife and Amelia Martin—there were two or three of them in front of us, and by the time the men arrived the row had commenced—the prisoner tried to pull his wife away, and I saw Birch and the prisoner struggling together, and then Mrs. Nava came up, and the whole three of them went down in the ditch in the scuffle—Birch and Nava were separated, and got out of the ditch, and then I saw the prisoner balancing a thick stick in the air as if to keep anybody from coming near him—I did not hear him say an'-thing then—he then threw the stick into the Thames—it was his' own stick—I got it out afterwards—we were walking towards Windsor at the time this occurred, not towards London—the prisoner then took up a position, standing like this, with his right hand behind him, and said, "Stand back, or I'll fire"—he was standing near where this ash tree is at the edge of the towing-path by the water's edge; he was facing the boathouse, but looking from London towards Windsor, towards the crowd—her pulled a revolver out—my attention was then called by Amelia Martin, because she wanted to go into the row, as she was not satisfied, and directly my back was turned I heard the first report, but did not see it—I turned round sharp and saw the prisoner fire a second shot, and then a third towards the ground—he pointed the revolver the second time level with his arm towards the ground, and the third was towards Amelia Martin, but pointing to the ground—he was taking aim for a fourth shot, and I rushed up and knocked him across his hand with a stick which I had with me, and he dropped the revolver at once; he tried to pick it up again, and in the struggle which followed he bit my finger very severely—a man named Clark came up and picked the revolver up, opened it, and took out the few remaining cartridges—he was supposed to belong to the prisoner's party—three chambers were discharged and two charged

—I afterwards saw that Josling had been shot below his shoulder near the elbow—he was bleeding very profusely—I went and obtained two constables and an inspector; we went after the prisoner and found him on the high road near Staines Bridge; I charged him with shooting at and wounding one of our party—ho said he had been assaulted by about twenty men; he was with his wife and two friends, Mr. and Mrs. Crutchley, who had been assaulted, and he fired in the air to frighten the crowd—I was standing at the side of the ditch at the time, about fifteen or twenty yards from the tree, towards Windsor, and could see distinctly all that took place as far the shooting was concerned—this is the stick the prisoner brandished, and this the revolver.

Cross-examined. I am indicted at this very Court for assaulting Mrs. Nava, and also Mr. and Mrs. Crutchley, and the same fate has happened to my friends, Mr. Josling and Mr. Birch—Birch was committed for trial by the Magistrate at the same time as the prisoner and myself for as saulting those three persons—the Grand Jury have found a true bill against Josling and George—I do not know the lock-keeper at Egham—I remember being near the lock that afternoon—it would be untrue to describe the individuals of my party as being very noisy and uproarious—I do not remember the lock-keeper ordering me and my party off the lock—I saw the prisoner with a drop of blood on his collar—I did not see Mrs. Nava knocked about, or hear her call out" Murder"—I heard no screaming—I did not say one word before the Magistrate about Nava having thrown his stick into the water; it did not strike me as-important—I did not say that I saw him throw it into the Thames, I said that he threw it in; I did not see it done, but he admitted on the-Monday morning when I was giving my evidence before Baron De Worms that he did throw it into the Thames—I mentioned before the Magistrate that he fired the third shot at Amelia Martin when she was on the ground; I do not think I said a single word before the Magistrate about Amelia Martin being on the ground; he did not give a full hearing—I was not two or three hours in the witness-box; not more than an hour—I did not say a single word about the third shot being fired when Amelia Martin was on the ground—I mean to say that she was on the ground when the third shot was pointed downwards—I mentioned before the Magistrate that the prisoner tried to pick up the revolver; I did not say anything about Clark, who-was supposed to be of the prisoner's party, coming up and taking away the cartridges—I do not know who Clark is, but I know he belonged to the prisoner's party, because he gave me his card on the Sunday night—I did not see the revolver pointed upwards at any time; not pointed in the air.

By the COURT. I did not see it the first time; it might have been pointed in the air, and I not see it—I heard Captain Ayton give evidence at the Police-court, and have seen him here to-day—I did not see an attack made on the prisoner and his wife by my party.

Re-examined. I mentioned before the Magistrates about Amelia Martin being on the ground, but they did not take it down—the chairman of the Magistrates did ask me who threw the stick into the Thames, but I did not think it right to say, because I had not seen it.

AMELIA MARTIN . I am single, and live at 105, Vauxhall Road—on Sunday, 28th September, I was one of the party who went to Egham—

Mr. Birch was among them—we all walked towards Egham Lock, and by tea time we were near the boathouse—that was between five and six o'clock—I was walking with Mrs. George back towards London from Egham Lock along the towing-path on the Surrey side—two men of cur party, Crutchley and Josling, the man who was shot, were walking in front of us at some distance—we stopped near an ash tree to look at some ladies on the water—Mrs. George had a baby with her, and a, woman, one of the prisoner's friends, passed a remark on the child—I did not hear what the remark was, because I did not think it was meant for us; but as I turned round Mrs. Nava, the prisoner's wife, gave me n. blow on the side of my face—there were five persons near me when I looked round, three women and two men—the prisoner is one of the men and the other was Mr. Crutchley—Mrs. George was standing next to me looking at the ladies on the river—those people were coming in a direction from London, and we were walking towards London, and had turned back again when I received the blow, going back to where we were going to have tea, but I did not know we were going to have tea.

J. P. C. BOLLATSCH (Re-examined). We were going to have tea at the Catherine Wheel Hotel, in Egham, and were walking from Egham Lock towards the boathouse; this lane leads to the Catherine Wheel Hotel—we were walking towards Windsor.

AMELIA MARTIN (Continued). We were walking in the same direction as Mr. Bollatsch; we were in front of him, walking from the lock towards the boathouse—we had walked up and down—after I was struck by Mrs. Nava I returned the blow and hit her, and then she hit me again—none of the men came to my assistance; I then received A blow between my shoulders from one of the men, and Mr. Birch came up and put me aside and Mr. Crutchley on the other side—Mr. Crutchley said, "What has it to do with you?" and struck Birch, and Birch struck him back, and those two got talking and the woman left me with Mr. Birch, and in the struggle we all fell to the ground, and Mr. Nava got up and walked a few yards away from me and pulled a revolver from his pocket and fired—I saw him do that; I stood in front of him—we all got up, and then we fell down again—when the revolver was fired, I believe Mr. Birch and Crutchley were still lying down—Mrs. Nava was standing on the left side of Mr. Nava when the first shot was fired—it seemed to me that he fired the first shot towards the crowd; I mean towards Birch and me and Mr. and Mrs. Crutchley—I should think there were twelve or fourteen people in the crowd on both sides; both parties were together then—while the women were fighting the men were round us—the second shot was fired soon after the first—I saw the prisoner fire three or four times—I did not fall down again after the shots were fired, or while they were being fired—I saw Mr. Bollatsch knock the revolver out of the prisoner's hand—when Mrs. Nava struck me, Mrs. Birch spat in my face—Mrs. Crutchley is a very big woman.

Cross-examined. All my party were walking from Egham Lock up the river—I did not see a party coming to meet us, because we stood still—when I turned round I saw three women and two men, all strangers to me—the prisoner was one of the two men and Mr. Crutchley the other

—it is untrue to say that the prisoner came back after the row began—the three women were Mrs. Birch, Mrs. Nava, and Mrs. Crutchley—I heard no screaming or cries of "Murder," or cries of "Bill," or "Help," or 11 Police"—I had my senses about me, and knew perfectly well what was going on—as to strong language, one party was as bad as the other—I did not use bad language; I submitted to being struck quietly—the tall man is Crutchley—I was first examined before the Magistrates three weeks afterwards; I went there, I believe, because an inspector went to Mr. Bowlash, and Mr. Birch brought a letter addressed to Mr. Bowlash telling him to come—I knew that I was coming on behalf of Josling—I said before the Magistrates, "I had no idea I should be called as a witness"—that was three weeks after the occurrence—I did not know there was a summons out—I knew that Nava was in prison, but I knew nothing of the proceedings till Birch came to me—I had talked the matter over with my friends I knew I should have to give evidence at some time—I made no statement till I went to Chertsey three weeks after the occurrence—when Birch came to-see me I did not know he was a witness, but he said that they would all have to come up to the Court—I had made no complaint to the police before then of having been abused in this way—I did not ask Birch why I was to be a witness: he showed me the letter and said that I was to appear—I did not know that Birch was summonsed to the Police-court by the prisoner; I understood it was only to attend—he did not tell me that he was summonsed for assaulting Mr. Nava—if anyone says that we were twelve in party that is not true—we passed by Egham Lock; we were walking up and down, and we went into a public-house at the end of the walk; there were only four of us then, and there we met the others—that was not the first glass of ale I had had—we came down to have a good day, but not of drinking—I did not see the lock-keeper at Egham—if he says that we were riotous that is not true—the men were in front and the others were walking on—we were not playing with each other—we had not been pushing each other into the river—it was Mrs. Josling's baby, and it was in Mrs. Birch's arms—Mrs. Crutchley was not knocked down; she was not touched at all—I did not see Mrs. Nava struck except by me—I saw her lying in the ditch, and I was with her—I did not see her kicked—four of my party are going to be tried for assaulting Mrs. Nava and for assaulting Mrs. Crutchley—I saw Mr. Crutchley's face, it was in a very bad condition; he struck Birch, and Birch struck him back—Birch was hurt", but not badly—I never saw Mr. Nava kicked; as soon as he had fired he ran away—he never said any thing after the first shot was fired; he stood still exactly in the same position—the shots were immediately one after the other; I was in front of Mrs. Nava—I was not on the ground; Mr. Bollatsch was by Mrs. Crutchley—Birch and Crutchley were on the ground—no woman was on the ground—I never saw Nava move from the first shot to the third—I should say he did not go away backwards from the crowd after the first shot, but in the excitement it is difficult to say, I cannot say that he did not.

By the JURY. I fell three or four times—the first time was when we were all together—each time was before a shot was fired—I never fell after a shot was fired.

ROBERT MATCOF MINTON SEABROOK . I am a barrister, of Middle Temple

Lane—on this Sunday I was in a boat on the Thames near the narrow cutting going down to the lock—the weir goes on one side, and there is a dry strip of land separating the weir from the lock—it was just before we got into that cutting, we were not in the cutting—the distance from the lock to the bungalow is about seventy-eight yards, my boat was just hero (Making a mark on the plan)—I was midway between this bungalow and this land, going in the direction of Egham; drifting—at that time my attention was called to a crowd on the bank, they appeared to be a boisterous party engaged in horse-play—the first thing I saw was Nava and another man rushing at the crowd with a stick in his hand, and ho battered it down three or four times overhead; I could not see who he hit—whether anybody hit him with their fists I cannot say; I should think so, for there was a general scuffle, and then somebody seized the stick and tore it out of his hand, and threw it into the river, as far as I could see—ho then ran away a few yards from the place of the scuffle, and was attacked by three or four men, who got him down in a ditch, and beat him over the face and stomach brutally—I cannot say whether that was before there had been any firing—when I was before the Magistrate I could not say whether it was before or after, but I have been told it was before the firing, I cannot decide in my own mind—I did not see any women approach him, but he was only a yard or two from the general melee—a very large stout woman followed him, and another woman who I have seen in the witness-box since, and the stout woman got in the way of Martin, and those two women began to fight, and a smaller man ran in, and the three of them all rolled into the ditch—the prisoner was not in that scuffle, he was in the hedge—I cannot exactly say whether those three persons were actually standing up or getting up when the prisoner produced a revolver—I cannot be certain whether it was before or after the shooting that I saw the three or four persons in the ditch; I said the same before the Magistrates; of course the crowd were moving, and he pointed the revolver, to begin with, on the crowd, but he did not fire; then he raised his hand, and fired right in the air; that was the first shot—the crowd had not moved from the. time he presented the revolver the first time; I do not mean that the individuals in the crowd had not moved, but the crowd had not advanced; he then brought his hand down and fired three more shots into the crowd—I think there were four shots fired; after he fired in the air he dropped his hand—I do not know where he got the revolver from; he fired into the air first, and then dropped his hand, and fired one, two, three into the crowd—it is a five-chambered revolver—those shots were fired rapidly one after the other, all of them—with regard to the number of shots I only say what I believe, but I happen to know that there were two unfired shots in the revolver, because I saw it afterwards; it was pointed out to me—I cannot remember whether any one was in the ditch or on the ground at the time the shots were fired; nobody was within ten yards of the prisoner at the time—I did not see the pistol knocked out of his hand by some one with a stick after ho fired; I only remember him running away towards the lock after that; no one ran after him; they did not pursue him properly, and he got away—I did not see the man who was wounded till afterwards; we were paddling towards Windsor, and head that somebody had been shot, and we got out and found a man lying on the bank with a handkerchief

tied round his arm, and bleeding very profusely—I saw him in a little shed after I fetched the doctor.

Cross-examined. The sailing club was not nearer to the prisoner than we were, that was about 120 or 130 yards from where he fired—I have seen Captain Ayton, the manager of Messrs. Ashby's brewery, at Staines—if he was at the sailing club boathouse, that is 130 yards away—it is considerably over 28 yards away; I say over 100 yards—the prisoner was knocked about and beaten most unmercifully by no less than four men on his stomach in a most brutal way—I cannot swear that the shots were not fired after that—I do. not know Mrs. Nava (Mrs. Nava was here called into Court)—I do not recognise her; my impression is that the woman was a little larger—I admit that the shots were fired after the women wore in the ditch—I heard screams, but I do not know whether she screamed—I have said, "The shot was fired after Mrs. Nava was in the ditch"—there were two people, a man and a woman, struggling with Mrs. Nava"—I heard screams, that is all—I said, "I believe Nava was running on ahead when his wife screamed, "but I did not know who screamed—I cannot say that the first shot was fired after those screams—when I say "screams," I mean general shouting and noise—I did not hear the screams of a woman in pain—if Captain Ayton heard screams in the boathouse, he must have very good hearing—I heard no screams of "Help!" or "Murder!"—I heard no words—I heard no cries raised—I was drifting down the current, but we were not in the stream; we were near the cutting, where there is no stream—I do not know whether anybody touched an oar to keep the boat level—we were in the dead water—when I saw him striking with the stick I think we were exactly opposite him—he ran a little towards the lock, and we may have moved a little, but we were practically opposite to him—I didn't see the two crowds meet—I have said, "I did not see whether the prisoner and his wife were willingly joining in the horse-play, or whether they had it forced on them."

Re-examined. The prisoner was going towards the lock, and we were going in the same direction; we were more or less abreast of him.

ALFRED JOHN JOSLING . I live at 69, Tufton Street, Westminster—I am a printer's labourer—on Sunday, 28th September, I was with the party who went to Egham—there were about twelve of us—we drove from London—Mrs. George and Amelia Martin were the only two women in our party—as we were going back for tea, I was walking with Robert Wright on the towing-path in front of the two women—I was looking at a yacht on the river, and heard a row behind me, and then a shot was fired—I turned round and saw two women struggling, Amelia Martin was one of them—they both fell to the ground, and then I heard a second shot fired—I saw the prisoner on the bank; he ran backwards from the crowd with a revolver in his hand, shifting it from his right hand to his left, but he did not actually change it from one hand to the other—he fired a second shot about a minute after the first—I was then about 10 yards from the crowd, and about as far from him as I am from that wall, and immediately it was fired I felt that I was struck on my arm—the crowd was between me and the prisoner; he was about 15 yards from the crowd and about 25 yards from me—I ran a good way with Wright to go for a doctor—I was bleeding, and fell down—I do not remember being taken to a little shed by the river side till a

doctor came; I was taken to the hospital—I am not still under medical treatment, but I have got my arm in a sling because I cannot use my hand—Wright and I were going at first, so that the river was on our right hands, but when we heard the row we turned round and faced Egham Lock.

Cross-examined. We were walking up the river, and met the prisoner and his party before the row occurred; they were coming down the river—they were all together—I did not notice who was walking in front of the prisoner's party—we met them and passed them; they were walking up—I was on ahead with Wright; we passed them, and nothing happened, and then I heard a row and turned round—I taw no one struck or kicked—when I turned round I was about ten yards from the rest of the crowd—the row went on for about five minutes—I did not join the crowd, I kept out of the way—there were ten or eleven of my friends and five or six of the prisoner's friends—they were not exactly in a line between me and the prisoner, but they were between us—I know nothing about revolvers—the bullet did not pass through the crowd and hit me; the crowd was more on my right side—I did not see Birch strike Mr. Crutchley, or strike anybody—I did not see Birch in the scrimmage—I was not close to Birch nor to David George—it is not true that Birch struck Crutchley, or a man I believe to be Crutchley, in the face, or that David George and I followed and struck him—I do not know that I am going to be tried in this Court for committing an assault upon Mrs. Crutchley and Mrs. Nava—I have not heard that—I believe I have got a counsel to defend me—we went down in brakes, about fourteen of us altogether—we had dinner together at a public house—it was a good dinner, and we had one glass of drink each. (The COURT cautioned the witness that he need not answer any question which would criminate himself)—I cannot tell you what time the dinner was—we did not go to any public-house after dinner—we passed the lock at Egham—I did not see the lock-keeper.

WILLIAM WADHAM FLOYER . I am a registered medical practitioner carrying on business at Egham—on 28th September I saw Josling on the towing-path at Egham; he was suffering very much from shock—I had him conveyed to the Cottage Hospital, and he has been under my care till the or three weeks ago—I examined him at the hospital, and in the middle of his arm I found a place indicating the entrance of a bullet; it ran right up just inside the great muscles of the arm, across the armpit, and entered the chest between the second and third ribs—a bullet which came from a cartridge like this empty cartridge case (produced) would make a wound of the size which that wound was—I have not been able to trace the progress of the bullet further; it is still in the chest some where; it has never been extracted—he cannot use his hand, because the bullet has bruised one of the nerves, which causes the pain and the inability to use his arm—he suffers much pain—I should describe it as a wound dangerous to life; very much go—he is not out of danger yet—as long as the bullet is in his body it may set up inflammation at any time, and dangerous symptoms; it depends entirely on where it is.

DAVID GEORGE . On this Sunday; 28th September, I was walking with a man called Blomfield, and my wife was before me with Amelia Martin—I saw Amelia Martin quarrelling with two strange women—one was a very large woman; I know now that she is Mrs. Nava, the prisoner's

wife—there were no men with them at that time—the women were not fighting, simply quarrelling—I went up and caught hold of Amelia Martin's arm, and took her away from the people she was quarrelling with, and a tall man came up and gave me a blow on the side of my face, and, having hold of Amelia Martin's arm, it caused the two of us to go into the hedge—the tall man's name is Crutchley; he was with Mr. Birch when I got up, and there were two or three women on the ground; Amelia Martin was not one of them—I saw the prisoner first with a pistol in his hand, about ten yards from Birch—Crutchley and Birch were on the ground at that time—the prisoner held his pistol towards the air the first shot, and then some of the crowd ran a short distance from the 'prisoner towards the boathouse, and the prisoner came towards us after he had fired the first shot—he fired two more shots in Succession, as straight as possible towards the crowd—I did not see Josling struck—after that I saw Bollatsch, with a stick, knock the pistol out of the prisoner's hand—I did not see him trying to get it back; after he lost it he ran away—I picked it up—there had been three shots fired—I had gone a little way from the prisoner after the first shot was fired, and before the second shot was fired I stopped and turned round towards the prisoner.

Cross-examined. It would not be true to say that Nava was knocked down in the ditch, and brutally kicked and beaten; I did not see it—I have not been at the Westminster Police-court for assault, but I summonsed a police-constable for assault—I lost the case, and had to pay three guineas costs—I did not see any kicking of Nava in the ditch; I do not know whether it happened or not—I am not aware that I am indicted here; I never had any notice whatever—I do not know that gentleman (Mr. Purcell)—I do not know that he is the counsel who is going to defend me—I know that I am indicted now—I made a charge against a police officer, and went into the box and gave evidence, and the Magistrate dismissed the case—I heard no screaming or shouting; I cannot say that they whispered to each other.

Re-examined. The Westminster case was not like this case at all—I have been in my present employment four years.

EDWARD GEORGE BIRCH . I am a labourer, of 1, Carpenter Street, Westminster—on 21st September I was on the towing-path at Egham with a party who had been to a bean-feast—I was behind the party walking by myself, and Martin, Bollatsch, and the others were in front of me—I was watching a launch, and heard somebody holloa, and saw a lot of people wrestling with one another—I saw Amelia Martin there; a man named Crutchley had hold of her—a man named George was there—there were three women with Crutchley; they were running round Amelia Martin—I saw Crutchley strike George; I had not seen George do anything to Crutchley—I pulled Amelia Martin away, and tried to push Crutchley away, and he struck me on the side of my face, and then I struck him—the women were all close together at that time, but I could not see what they were doing when Crutchley was striking me—I had my hands pretty full—after I struck Crutchley, he hit me again, and he and the two women pulled me, and we all fell to the ground; while I was on the ground I heard the report of a revolver; I think only twice—George came up to me, and I got up; nothing more happened to me.

Cross-examined. It is not true that I struck Crutchley without provocation; he struck me—I struck him in the face—it is not true that I struck Mrs. Nava—I heard some screaming—I was close to Mrs. Nava the whole time—the struggle with me did not last two minutes—I do not know Mrs. Nava; I did not hear her scream—the screams were some one holloaing, "Oh! oh! "a little bit louder than I am speaking—I was not in the whole of it; I did not see the starting—I was about twenty-yards away—I was going up the river from the lock by myself—before the row began, I met several people coming down the river—I did not see the prisoner till I got down to him.

ROBERT WRIGHT . I live at Romley Street, "Westminster, and am a labourer—I was walking with Josling; at the time he was shot we were in front of the party—I heard quarrelling behind me—looked round and saw five or six persons quarrelling, and they went down in a ditch fifteen or twenty yards behind me—the prisoner was standing at the side of the crowd—a man named Crutchley was there, and Mr. Birch and some women—I saw Crutchley strike Birch, and saw Birch strike him back—Crutchley was the first one who struck, according to what I saw—I saw four or five of them fall all together—the prisoner started running away towards Egham Lock when they fell down—he ran about twenty yards, and then turned round and stepped backwards five or six steps, and he had a revolver in his hand—I did not notice that anybody was running after him—he then let off three reports, I mean three shots, and when the first shot went, I turned round and said, He has got a revolver"—the pistol was pointed towards me—he fired the first shot like this; level—after the second shot had been fired Josling spoke to me, and I looked at his hand, it was full of blood—I went on with him after that twenty or thirty yards, and then he laid down on the ground—when the third shot went off I had my back to the prisoner—I did not see him going away—Josling was sinking down, and I laid him down and took him to a little shed and fetched a doctor—my party consisted of seven persons, Birch, Bollatsch, George, Josling, Wright myself, Amelia Martin, and Mrs. George—Blomfield was not in my party—I was sober, and so were the rest of the party.

Cross-examined. I went down with a large party from London in two breaks—I did not hear all the row; I heard nothing more than the murmur of a quarrel; no distinct screams, but loud enough to make me turn round—I was close by the side of Josling when he said he was hit, and in front of the other people; in front of the crowd—we were further away from the prisoner than the rest of the crowd when the shot was fired—I was this side, the crowd were in the middle, and the prisoner was on that side—T saw the prisoner running away, but never saw any one running after him—Mrs. Nava was in the crowd when the prisoner was running away—I did not see what she was doing; I saw them all on the ground; I did not hear her call out—I could see distinctly all that the prisoner was doing.

HENRY COLLIS (Police Inspector). I am stationed at Egham—on 28th September, a little after five o'clock, I received information, and went to the towing-path at Egham, near Staines Bridge, and found the prisoner there, and near him were Crutchley and two women—I cautioned the prisoner, and charged him with firing a revolver, and shooting a man in the armj he replied, "I have not shot any one; I shot three times

in the air; I was brutally assaulted with my wife and these two persons by about twenty people, and I fired three times in the air to frighten them, but not with any intention of doing them harm"—I took him to the Police-station—about that time I saw Bollatsch, and I saw Bollatsch, George, and Wright at the station; they were all sober; it was then about 6.30 p. m.—I saw the prisoner's wife, and noticed that she had a bruise on her cheek, and another under her eye; her left eye, I believe—on the next day I went with Crutchley, Mrs. Nava, and Bollatsch to the towing-path, examined it, and found marks of a struggle there, 150 yards from the bungalow and about 230 yards from the boathouse—there were several different footprints on the towing-path, in and out of the ditch, and further on for 200 yards to the Angler's Rest, which is in the direction of Egham Lock—a hat was picked up on the towing-path, and there were traces of blood.

Cross-examined. Birch, Bollatsch and George had no doubt been drinking, but they were perfectly sober when I saw them—a good many com plaints have reached me about the conduct of bean-feasters, but not at that particular part—Mrs. Nava identified this hat (produced)—it was picked up in this crushed state near the scene of the struggle—the struggle had continued over a space of 200 yards—Nava's party were sober, though I think they had been drinking—on that very night Mrs. Nava and Mrs. Crutchley complained to me, and spoke about a woman—the prisoner complained of having his hat taken from him, and showed me a black eye and a bruise on his hip and leg—he also showed me his broken watch chain—he told me his wife had been knocked down and brutally assaulted by about twenty men, and that he had been thrown down and assaulted by twenty men himself—both Crutchley's eyes were black, and Mrs. Crutchley had a slight bruise on her face—she was in the family way—she also complained of being knocked down by a lot of roughs—she did not show me any marks.

Re-examined. I went with two other constables along the Staines Road in a trap, and overtook the prisoner and two others going towards the railway station—Bollatsch was with us; I think he was sitting behind—we took the prisoner in custody—that was before the complaints were made of assault by Mrs. Crutchley and the other people.

By MR. FRITH. Crutchley and Nava made complaints to me as soon as they got a chance, when they came to the station—they came to the station after the man was in custody and made a complaint—I saw blood on the prisoner's clothes, and on his shirt collar.

By the JURY. The prisoner did not ask to see a surgeon—he was not injured enough for that.

Witnesses for the Defence.

FREDERICK AYTON . I am manager of Ashby's brewery—I know the sailing club at Egham—I was there on Sunday afternoon, September 28th, at the window looking down the river, which gave me a full view of the towing-path and all that went on there—the club has a boat-house on the Surrey side of the river—I had been there about an hour and had seen some of the prosecutor's party—they were rather larky—the prisoner and his party were sitting quietly on the grass close to the sailing club—there were two women and a baby sitting on the grass on the London side of the boathouse—I did not notice the prisoner's party get up and walk down the river—it was between four and five

o'clock when I saw them sitting on the grass—later on my attention was called to a row—I was looking out of the window at my boy sailing a boat on the river—the disturbance was going on 25 or 30 yards from the sailing club—I have not measured the distance—I am a member of the sailing club, and know that locality perfectly—the crowd appeared to be all scrambling to get into the centre, where something was going on, and then a shot was fired, and after that I saw a woman thrown into the hedge—I won't be positive whether it was before or after the shot; I fancy it was after—I did not do anything—I saw the crowd separate, and one man going down the towpath towards the lock—I cannot swear to him, but as far as I could see he was the prisoner, and then I saw several others rush at him again—this appeared to be a second attack, and then he fired another shot, and then I came downstairs and went along the towing-path, and came up to what remained of the crowd—while I was at the window I saw a stick being used distinctly, and after wards I saw the stick being taken out of the river—I cannot say by whom it was used, because it was above the people's heads—I saw a very serious attack made on the prisoner and his party; I had especially noticed them—I have distinctly recognised one of them since—the attacking party were five or six to one to the other party. (Birch and Ballatsch were here called into Court)—I saw those two men in the attacking party—I should describe the attack as a very serious one when I saw the way the woman was thrown about—that was quite sufficient to make it a serious attack—she was thrown head over heels into a hedge—I have since been told who she was—she was attacked by the whole crowd, it appeared to me. (Mrs. Nava was here brought into Court)—that is the woman—if I had been attacked in that way I should have done my very best to fight my way out—when the prisoner ran away his wife was somewhere near, but they were all in a line, and it is difficult for me to say their position—the first shot was fired at an angle of about 45° in the air—it would go over the heads of the crowd—the second shot appeared to be fired in the air too—the first and second shots were fired in the direction of the river—the second was over the river—some of the crowd might be between the prisoner and the river—I do not think this revolver is of English make—it is not Smith and Weston's—the crowd was scattered about all over the shop—I saw the wounded man—I dressed his arm—I said that I would have fought my way through, because my attention has been called to the conduct of bean-feasters generally, and a short time ago one man was kicked to death by them.

Cross-examined. I am not a man of war now—I have taken to peaceful pursuits—I said at the Police-court that if my wife had been attacked in that way, and I had a revolver, I would have shot the lot, and that is my feeling now.

By the COURT. The prisoner is the man who walked towards the lock—I saw the crowd make a rush at him, and the shot was fired—I did not notice what became of him afterwards—I left the window to go down—I could not see who had the stick—I did not see it thrown into the river, but I saw it taken out—there is a tree there, but I do not know exactly the position of it—I did not notice whether the shot was fired close to the tree—the struggle took place close to the bungalow—they carried the man straight into that house—I put him on the grass—he almost came

into my arms—he was staggering about, he was losing blood so fast, but? decreasing the distance between him and the place where he had been shot by a few feet—I am not aware that I have said that I could not swear to Mrs. Nava as the woman that was thrown into the hedge—I never saw the revolver till I saw it at the Police-court at Chertsey—the rush I saw was very possibly to get the revolver from the man after he had fired it—there was not more than one row that afternoon—I am quite sure that when I saw the people walking peacefully by the boat-house it was between four and five o'clock—I had left the sailing club, and I was talking to one of the members for a quarter of an hour, and had gone upstairs before the row began—I think it began a quarter of an hour after I saw the people sitting very peaceably—I saw the commencement of it—I did not see two women begin to fight—I saw two women with the prisoner and his friend at first—there appeared to be two or three women in the centre of the struggle—I speak of the prosecutor's party and the prisoner's party, but I had not seen them before—I remarked to a gentleman with me, "If all bean-feasters were like these, I do not object to them"—that was the prisoner and the two women and the child—I know where the little house stands where the wounded man was taken—the struggle I saw was not between there and the boat-house—my idea of the measurements must be wrong—I am quite clear that the struggle took place below the bungalow—I have very long sight—whatever the distance may be, I was in a position to see all I have described—I have told you accurately all that took place—the conduct of the prosecutor's party was riotous generally—had I or my wife been attacked in that way, I should have shot the lot—I went on to say my reasons for saying that were the odds were so against them, and the attack was so serious—I noticed Birch; I think he was the worse for drink—I think the woman was in the hedge when the first shot was fired.

By the JURY. I described the first shot as being fired at an angle of 45°—I distinctly saw the discharge from the barrel—I am judging entirely by sight, not by ear—if the pistol carried 400 yards, how far it would go at an angle of 45° would depend upon the cartridge.

JOSEPH BROMLEY . I am the lock-keeper at Egham Lock—I remember some men and women passing the lock about four o'clock on Sunday, September 28th—I only remember one who I see here: that man (George)—he was with twenty or thirty others—some of them were sober and some intoxicated—they were not orderly in their conduct—I spoke to one or two of them—about five o'clock a gentleman made a communication to me, and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Nava and Crutchley—Crutchley was like a Christmas plum pudding with the raisins all outside—he was bleeding from his ears, and went down the steps to bathe his face—Mrs. Nava's left eye was black, and her face was all puffed up, and she was bleeding where her earring was—they made complaints to me; they appeared to be suffering and very excited—they left and went to the police-station—Nava was not with Mrs. Nava at first; he asked me if I would lend him a cap.

JAMES CRUTCHLEY . I am a horse keeper, at 2, Shepherd's Place, City Road—on Sunday, 28th September, I went to Egham with some friends—the party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Nava, myself, and some friends—we had dinner, and walked up to the lock, and sat down on the grass for about two hours—I had my little child with me—my wife was far

advanced in pregnancy; she is here—we got up to go towards Egham down the towing-path—Nava and Mr. Reynolds went first, and I and the three women followed behind; my wife and Mrs. Nava and Mrs. Birch—having walked some distance down the towing-path we came across thirty or forty people—there were some women among them—they were trying to throw each other into the water; I could see that some distance away—when we came up to them Nava and Reynolds were a few yards in front; they had passed one or two of the crowd—my wife said to me, "Pick up the child, Jim, and we shall be able to walk quicker"—the child was walking at that time; I picked it up in a moment, and a remark was passed by the woman of the opposite party concerning my child; and a remark was made to me by Alfred Birch about tossing me for a quid, meaning a sovereign; my wife said, "He has no quids to toss for"—he said, "If you have no quids to toss for, take that," and they struck each other in the face three or four times—they did not strike anybody else at that moment, but Mrs. Nava saw the way I was being knocked about, and called her husband, who was a few yards in advance, to her assistance; and then the opposite party, Birch, Bollatsch, George, and Josling 6et upon her and knocked her about, and kicked her and my wife also—Birch is the man who kicked her—the prisoner then came back and they set upon him—I could not catch what he said; they knocked him about and knocked him into the ditch, and beat him while he was in the ditch with their hands—he got himself liberated and went five or ten yards away—he had no stick or anything that I saw—he liberated himself and they were still knocking his wife about, and my wife, who were still in the ditch—the prisoner then pulled out a revolver and pointed it a little high, and said, if they did not stop, he would fire, and he fired one in the air—at that time his wife was in the ditch and my wife likewise—I was about five yards behind—they did not desist, and he fired a second shot in the air at an angle of about 45° in the direction of the river, over the water—that had no effect—Mrs. Nava was screaming "Murder"; she was in the ditch—the men rushed on Nava, and one of them hit him on his hand with a stick, and the revolver was dropped—I heard three shots; the third must have gone off when the revolver was knocked out of his hand—he was struck several times; he was struck with a stick when the revolver was taken from him, after which they beat him and kicked him—my recollection is that he fired twice in the air, and that the third shot went off just when they knocked the revolver out of his hand—I was badly hurt, and my wife was hurt, and Mrs. Nava—I tried to defend myself, but I was surrounded by so many—I did not give the least provocation, no more than a person who was not there—my party had no stick.

By the COURT. I am sure Nava had no stick, because he started from my house with me, and he sat next to me on the break.

Cross-examined. If he was brandishing a stick that day it was some other person's stick, not his own—I know that a stick was fished out of the river—I say that the first two shots were fired in the air, and my suggestion is that the third shot was when the revolver was knocked out of his hand—the way I account for Josling having a bullet in him is that he may have been the man who knocked the revolver out of the prisoner's hand—it was Bollatsch who knocked the revolver out of his

hand, but it was Josling who got shot—I gave the origin of the quarrel in this way before the Magistrate, "As we were crossing from the boathouse towards Egham Lock, my wife making a remark, Birch struck me on my face"—the remark made by my wife was for me to pick up the child, and then the women on the other side made a remark about the child, something to the effect that we wore lucky to have a child—I do not mean to represent that on that, Birch struck me on my face; they said they would toss me for a quid, and my wife said, "He has got no quids to toss for"—I was not trying to separate the women fighting, I never got a chance—the quarrel did not begin by the women striking each other, that I swear—Amelia Martin struck my wife and Mrs. Nava too—I did not strike the prisoners once—their party numbered from twenty to thirty or forty; before the Magistrate I said twenty to thirty or perhaps more; there were two breaks of them—my party numbered only six—the fight was ten, fifteen, or twenty yards from the boat-house.

Re-examined. I had got the baby in my arms when I was struck—she was not hurt seriously; she fell down—she is three years old.

AGNES CRUTCHLEY . I am the wife of James Crutchley, of 2, Shepherd's Place—on 28th September I was with my husband and Mr. and Mrs. Nava, and Mr. Reynolds and Mrs. Bird—I said to my husband, "I should like some tea"—we were walking along the towing-path, and my little girl was walking—I asked my Husband to pick her up, and some persons passed a remark about the little girl, and Birch came up and asked my husband to toss him for a sovereign, which he termed a quid—I said, "He has no quids to toss for," and Birch struck him in his face, and then they set upon Mrs. Nava and my husband—I picked the little girl up, and begged them to let my husband alone, and then Bollatsch knocked me into a ditch—Mrs. Nava was struck and screamed for help—she had been attacked in that way before a shot was fired—when the shot was fired she was on the ground, and the prosecutor's party were kicking her—she screamed for her husband, and then three shots were fired—I have suffered a great deal in health.

ANNIE BIRD . I am the wife of Charles Bird, of 27, Sidney Street, Goswell Road—I was one of Nava's party—I went to Egham and sat by the boathouse, and between four and five o'clock got up to walk along the towing-path—Mr. Nava and Reynolds went in front, and the rest of us followed—as we went down the towing-path Birch asked Mr. Crutchley to toss him for a quid, and because he did not do so he struck him on his nose; she called Nava, who tried to make peace with Birch—Nava said, "We have come out for a day's excursion; don't spoil it by having a row"—he turned round, and I saw them knocking his wife about with their hands, and they got her on the ground and kicked her—I cannot say which of the men kicked her—Nava went to her assistance, and they knocked him and pushed him about, and they all rolled into a ditch, Mrs. Crutchley, Mr. Nava and Mrs. Nava, and the next I saw was Mr. Nava, standing up pointing a revolver—there were a number of people there, and a considerable scrimmage was going on—he was on the towing-path presenting a revolver—I could not see Mrs. Nava then or Mrs. Crutchley, because of the mob—I heard Mrs. Nava scream "Murder" and "Help"—Nava said, "Stand back, or I will fire," and soon afterwards I heard a report, but I could not see it,

although I saw the smoke—after the report the mob were going into each other again, and the last I saw of it was a scuffling—at the time Nava threatened to shoot I was some distance towards the sailing club; I was not among the crowd; I was standing away from it—Nava was further off me than the crowd; they were going along the towing-path towards the lock, and I was following behind, but I was in the crowd first of all—Nava was very much upset—I was very much frightened I was afraid my husband would come up; he had gone to Windsor—I saw blood on Mr. and Mrs. Nava's faces, and on Crutchley's.

By the COURT. After all this was over I went to Egham, and had some tea at the inn—I saw the wounded man—I was walking when this happened, but I stood back, as I had a child in my arms.

HENRY VINCENT . I keep the Victoria Hotel at Egham—on Sunday, 28th September, Mr. and Mrs. Nava and others came there, and brought their lunch with them—they were conducting themselves in an ordinary way—when I next saw them Mrs. Nava was bruised about the face, and so were Mr. and Mrs. Crutchley—they went from there to Egham, to return to London—they left my house, after having a bit of refreshment, at ten minutes to three, because I had a dinner on, and they returned later, bruised and beaten, and said that they had been set upon by a lot of roughs, and were within an inch of their lives—I did not see Mrs. Bird.

WILLIAM REYNOLDS . I am warehouseman to Mr. Watts, of Myrtle Street, Hoxton—I was one of Nava's party to go to Egham—we went to the sailing club, and were going back to Egham to tea—I was walking with the prisoner, and the others were twenty yards behind—I did not notice that we passed any people on the towing-path, but when we got some distance I heard someone holloa out "Bill," and they were behind me—I was talking, and did not notice—I looked round and saw Mr. Nava with a crowd of men, and he went over, and as soon as he got over he was pushed and knocked about by Birch, Bollatsch, and David George—I identify them as having struck him—he struggled and got out of the crowd, and his wife was struck by a woman, and after that by Birch, and knocked down, and as fast as she got up she was knocked down again—there were about twenty there—Mrs. Nava got up several times, and every time she got up she was knocked down again and kicked—Nava holloaed out, "You cowards, knocking two women about like that," and he drew his revolver and said, "Stand back, or I will fire"—it was empty then; it was not loaded—they took no notice; they still kept on knocking the women about, and after that he loaded it and said, "Stand back, or I will fire," and then I saw him fire a shot—he held his revolver up in the air, and a minute afterwards I saw him fire another one, and I ran for assistance, as I saw they were not afraid of the shots, and then I heard a third shot; he fired that in the direction of the water, right opposite to them—Mrs. Nava was then lying on the grass in the middle of the crowd calling out, "Bill, Bill, I am being murdered."

Cross-examined. When he fired he stood about a yard off the towing path; he fired across the river; he did not fire anywhere near where the people were, not the two shots I saw—I saw him draw something out of his pocket and put in, as if he was loading the revolver, and after that he said, "Stand back, or I will fire"; he said that both before and after loading it.

By the JURY. I was not aware that the prisoner had a revolver when we started to go to Egham—he had not said anything to me about it or about the cartridges; I have no idea what he took it for.

GUILTY of wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm.See page 144.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-62
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence; Guilty > lesser offence

Related Material

62. JOHN PHILIP CHARLES BOLLATSCH and EDWARD GEORGE BIRCH, Inflicting grievous bodily harm on Jane Nava, James Crutchley, and Agnes Crutchley.

MR. KEITH FRITH and MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.

JANE NAVA . I am the wife of Abelle Nava, a mineral water traveller, of 214, City Road—on Sunday, September 28, I went with my husband to Egham, with a party of friends—we went to the Victoria Hotel, and then walked up the river to the Sailing Club; we sat down for about two hours—Mrs. Crutchley's little girl, two years old, was with us—after sitting a couple of hours on the grass we got up and went back to tea—we did not all walk together; my husband and Reynolds were walking about twenty-five yards in front, then came myself and Mr. Crutchley, and Mrs. Bird and Mrs. Crutchley; the child was walking, and Mrs. Crutchley took it up because it was walking so slowly—we met a number of men and women on our way down to the boathouse; we were walking along, and met another party coming in the opposite direction; the two prisoners were among them—Mrs. Crutchley asked her husband to take up the child, and a woman said, "You are fools to have children, we have got none, "and Mrs. Crutchley said, "Well, you are a very lucky woman not to have any"—we were walking on, and a man came up to Crutchley and said he would toss him for a quid—that was Birch—Mrs. Crutchley said that her husband had not got a quid to toss with—the man said, "If you have not got a quid, take that," and punched his face, taking a piece of skin off his nose; he had the baby in his arms at the time—he set it down, and Mrs. Crutchley took it—I then saw three or four men punching Crutchley—I could recognise them if I saw them—the prisoners are two of them, and three or four other men came up and struck Crutchley also—I do not see any of them in Court—Bollatsch was one of them—I called to my husband, "Bill, Bill, comeback, they are fighting"—he was twenty-five yards in front of us—he ran back and said, "Why don't you go about your business, and let us do the same; we do not want any row, we have come out to enjoy ourselves, not to quarrel?"—the three or four men then began punching me—they had been round Crutchley, but he got out from among them—when they heard me call my husband, they began punching me, and before he had finished speaking they began punching him also—I was punched in the side of my face, and that big man (Birch) knocked my teeth, and knocked me into a ditch—they punched me while I was lying in the ditch, and that man, the furthest from me (Bollatsch) hit me with a stick—some of the others struck me, but I cannot see them here—I tried to get up, and as I did so they knocked me back again—I screamed "Murder," several times, and called to my husband, "Bill, Bill, if you don't help me they will kill me—they knocked Mrs. Crutchley down, and kicked her on her foot and punched her in the face—that fat man (Birch) did that—I do not know which one kicked. her, but I saw the foot strike her—Birch knocked her down when he punched her in the face—Mrs. Crutchley expects

to go to bed every day—this was two months ago—I got up the best way I could—after I called to my husband he called out, "Stand back, or I shall fire," and then I heard the shot, and I was knocked down again on the pathway, and they hit me on the back of my head—I do not know who that was; it was not one of my party—I had twelve or fourteen bruises on my body—they punched me, and I screamed and got to my husband—there were eight of them knocking him about, and they knocked the revolver out of his hand with a stick, and one of the opposite party picked it up and knocked my husband into a hedge; there was not much of a ditch there—they hit him and pushed him, and I said, "You are cowardly fellows, eight of you punching one," and a young man hit me on my face and knocked me into the ditch and kicked me—I was kicked after the shots were fired—I cannot remember how I got away; I was silly—I had a bruise on my leg and a kick on the side of my stomach, which hurts me very much still, and both my eyes were blackened—one of those I spoke of last punched me in the eye, and I had a cut on one of my ears, and also a cut on my head—I lost my ear ring and my hat, and my husband lost his hat also—I think I lost my earring when I was in the ditch—I think the prisoners had all been drinking, some more and some less; they were all the worse for drink; Birch I can say was drunk, because I saw him reeling about; I saw him with a white hat on, a white wig and white whiskers—I was got to the lock-keeper's, and they gave me a drink of water, and gave my husband a hat, and we went to the inn where we had put up at, and they gave me a hat there, and a chair to sit down upon—after we left the inn we walked down the road; we were frightened that they would come after us again—Inspector Collins and a constable came after us, and we complained to him that we had been very badly used and knocked about—we went to the station, and one of the prisoners was fetched; the other was there already—the big man said, God strike him blind, if he had known he would have killed the b——lot of us—my husband was already in the cell when I got to the station; they took him in the trap—when I got there the furthest man (Bollatsch) was not there; they had to fetch him—we made a charge; we said that they had been knocking us about—they were not in custody; we wanted to give them in custody, but they would not take them—the inspector advised us to take a summons out.

Cross-examined. My husband and Reynolds were walking twenty-five yards ahead of us—I was walking with Mrs. Birch, Mr. and Mrs. Crutchley, and the child, all four abreast—I do not remember meeting those two men first (Josling and Wright)—I saw Josling in the first lot—they might have passed me—I have seen Amelia Martin—I did not see her and another woman carrying a baby passing and looking at the river; I saw several men at the back of them; much nearer than eight or ten yards from them—both the prisoners were nearer than that to them, and others of the party were close by—it was when we were abreast of Amelia Martin and Mrs. George that the observation was made about the baby; I do not know which of them made it, but I am certain it was one of the two—my suggestion is that one of those women said, "You are b—fools to have children; "one of the women was carrying a baby, and so was Mrs. Bird—on one side there was a baby, and on the other side a baby and a little girl—they said, "You are b——fools to

have children; we have none," and Mrs. Crutchley said, "You are very lucky not to have any"—I did not see anybody strike Amelia Martin on her back—I did not strike her; I never struck anybody; I never got the chance to—I did not spit in Amelia Martin's face, nor did I see anybody else do so; I must have seen it if it occurred—I was hit in the face, not by Amelia Martin, but she kicked me in the face—she was not hit in the back by me, nor did she turn round and hit me in the face; someone came up behind me and hit me in the back—that was immediately after the conversation about the baby—I never hit her at all—the only man with my party was Mr. Crutchley—I am certain I did not strike Amelia-Martin—I did not see Birch come up and take Amelia Martin by the arm and try to pull her away from me—while Martin and I were exchanging blows, Birch did not come up and take hold of Martin and pull her away and it was not in that way that all of us rolled into the ditch; our friends did not get the chance of gathering round; they were in the ditch-further up—my husband had no stick—I heard the first shot—up to that time I could see a little of what my husband was doing—he never used a stick; be never carried one—if he had had a stick I must have seen it—we went down by a break—when the police overtook us we were not walking to the railway station, we were walking along the road, and did not know where the railway station was; we were not going there—it was one of those men who was in the trap and gave my husband in custody, the further one (Bollatsch)—I showed the inspector some of my bruises at the station—the hearing was several weeks after the summons. (The summons was dated October 4)—at that time my husband had been several times before the Magistrate—he was, I believe, locked up and charged the next morning—Birch said, "God strike me blind, if I had known," and he did not go further—I do not know that he said if he had known there was a revolver in the party—he did not say anything about the water; he was talking for half an hour altogether—when the charge was taken against my husband, we were all together in the passage—I believe the remark was made in the presence of the inspector—he is not here.

Re-examined. When I was in the ditch I did not see the revolver in my husband's hand—he had no stick all day long—I cannot say what he carried a revolver for, he does not always do so; he only bought it three days before at a sale—he has a licence—there were a good many remands of the case on account of Josling's conduct—I made an application before a Justice for a summons as soon as I could—I did not go-before the Magistrate; Mr. Crutchley went, and three summonses were granted—I think the ditch was two feet deep where I was thrown in.

AGNES CRUTCHLEY . I am the wife of James Crutchley—I was not called before the Magistrate—I was ill, and was not able to travel by train that morning; the veins of my leg were so swollen that I could not walk, and I was suffering great pain—on 28th September we were sitting by the Egham Sailing Club, and I said to my husband, "I should like some tea," and we got up and walked towards Egham Lock—I asked, my husband to pick up the little girl as we should be able to walk much, quicker—as he picked the child up, some women who were passing made some remark about having children—I said they were lucky people if they had not, and Birth asked my husband to toss him for a quid, meaning a sovereign—I said, "My husband has no quid to toss for'—he struck my

husband, and I begged him to let my husband alone, and when he was struck, Mrs. Nava called her husband, and he came and tried to make peace, but they still continued beating my husband, and Mrs. Nava and I were thrown into the ditch by Birch—he struck my husband, and struck me at the same time, and some young man took my little girl out of the ditch—I do not mean the young man who was wounded; I think it was Wright, and when I got up out of the ditch I went to fetch the child out of his arms, and a woman struck me in the face—I do not know the woman; she is not here—she had a plaid dress on—I could recognise her if she appeared, but she has not appeared—the same woman then hit Mrs. Nava on the back of her head, which sent her on her face on the ground, and a lot of men attacked Mr. Nava, and those that could not hit him were kicking him—Bollatsch was one, and he struck me in the ditch on my leg, and caused my ankle to swell—I then saw them using a large stick beating Nava, and I saw the revolver struck out of Nava's hand, and I asked George to give me the revolver, as it was not his property—I did not know anybody was hit then; he said he would not; he would blow my brains out if I did not go away—I have suffered much in health from the violence; I have been in bed a week at a time; I have had medical advice; my legs got so swelled, one from the bruise and the other from the veins; the bruise on my leg was caused by a kick with a heavy boot; they were fighting my husband at the time over my head as I lay in the ditch; I was thrown into the ditch with the little child.

Cross-examined. I was in Court before the Magistrate on all the occasions except the two last; I was there three or four times; I travelled down to Egham; I saw Amelia Martin and Mrs. George carrying the baby; I did not see anybody strike Amelia Martin on the back; if that occurred I must have seen it; I am quite certain it did not occur—Mrs. Nava did not strike Amelia Martin in the face; I don't believe she had the chance; if it occurred I must have seen it—I did not see Amelia Martin strike Mrs. Nava in the face—the men and women we met were. all together straggling along—Birch did not then lay hold of Amelia Martin, and pull her away from Mrs. Nava—I never saw the stick till it was used on Mr. Nava, and then the revolver fell out of his hand—Nava had no stick on any occasion; they carried no stick down, only the revolver.

Re-examined. I did attend several times before the Magistrate, but when the case was reached I was not able to appear.

JAMES CRUTCHLEY . On 28th September I was at Egham with Nava and his party, and we got up, after sitting on the grass. The Judge here read his notes of the witness's evidence in the last case, to which he assented). Bollatsch, George, and Josling all struck me; Mrs. Nava seeing the way I was being knocked about, called her husband to my assistance, and they set on her and Mrs. Crutchley, and when Nava came up they set upon him and knocked him into the ditch; he got liberated in some way out of the ditch and pulled out a revolver—after they attacked the females they had another attack upon me—I cannot say all four, but Birch and Bollatsch did, and Nava presented the revolver, and told them to desist or he would fire; they did not desist, find he fired one shot in the air, over the water—they were still knocking the females about, and he fired another shot over the water; and then I saw someone rush at him and hit him with a stick; and in my opinion

that was when the third charge went off—I am an old soldier, and have a pension.

Cross-examined. Being an old soldier, I never did anything to protect myself, I never had a chance—I was within a yard of my wife and Mrs. Nava—the remark about the baby was made by a woman—the-remark Birch made to the female was a very vulgar noise with his mouth, about the same time as the remark about the baby—I did not say that Birch was close to Amelia Martin and Mrs. George—I did not notice who it was who made the observation about the baby; I know it was not Mrs. Crutchley, Mrs. Martin, or Mrs. Nava, because it was a strange voice—I saw Mrs. Martin strike Mrs. Nava in the face; there is no doubt about that—Mrs. Crutchley then went to Mrs. Nava's assistance—I did not see Amelia Martin struck in the back immediately after the remark was made; it did not occur—the next thing was Amelia Martin struck Mrs. Nava in the face and knocked her down, but she was being-knocked about at the time—there was not a second word before I was struck—Birch did not catch hold of Amelia Martin that I am aware of—I did not take hold of Mrs. Nava and pull her away—it would not be true to say that while all the men were pulling at the two women, the whole of us rolled into the ditch—if Nava had used a stick I must have seen it.

ANNIE BIRD . Hive at 21, Sidney Street—I recognise Birch but not Bollatsch—Birch asked Mr. Crutchley to toss him for a quid, and because—he did not do so he punched him on his nose—I also saw him kick Mrs. Nava on her left side when she was on the ground—I am not certain whether he struck her with his first—I was not in the scrimmage-myself—he had left off with Mr. Crutchley then.

By the COURT. He deliberately kicked her; it was not that his foot went on her when he was scuffling; he done it intentionally.

Cross-examined. Some remark was made about the baby, but I cannot say what it was—some female made it—I did not notice that Amelia Martin was struck on the back immediately after that remark was made—Amelia Martin did not immediately turn round and strike Mrs. Nava in the face, but another woman did, and she had a child under her left arm, and she struck Mrs. Nava under the left ear—I am quite certain it was not Amelia Martin—I do not know what Mr. Nava did, I was looking at Mrs. Nava.

Cross-examined. I did not see Mr. Birch come up and seize Amelia Martin; I was looting for my husband; he had gone on to Windsor—I did not notice Mr. Nava with a stick Whacking down upon people—it could not have occurred without my seeing it that I know of.

By the JURY. I did not see how Mrs. Crutchley got knocked on the ground before she got the kick; she was on the ground before I saw her, but I do not know how she came there—I saw Birch hit Mr. Crutchley.

WILLIAM REYNOLDS . I was walking along the towing-path at Egham with Nava, and heard his wife call out, "Bill!"—I looked round and saw a crowd—he went away and was punched about the face by Birch, Bollatsch, and George—he struggled and got away from them, and after that his wife was assaulted by a female, and she was set on by Birch and sent down and kicked—I cannot recognise the female—I saw Mrs. Crutchley attacked and knocked down, and kicked by Bollatsch and David George—

I saw two shots fired—Mrs. Crutchley was knocked down several times, from one part of the place to the other—I stood still twenty yards away all the time.

Cross-examined. I did not see Birch seize hold of Mrs. Nava; she was standing in the crowd—they were talking then, and Mrs. Nava's husband went over to hear what his wife was saying, and he was assaulted; after they were knocked about, two shots were fired, and I ran off for assistance.

JOSEPH BROMLEY . I am lock-keeper at Egham Lock—on 28th September, at five o'clock, I saw Mrs. Nava and Mr. Crutchley and his wife; I did not see either of the prisoners—they were bruised and covered with blood; it was something cruel, something horrible, and Mrs. Nava was knocked about too.

HENRY VINCENT . I keep the Victoria Hotel, at Egham—I remember Mr. and Mrs. Nava and their party coming there on the evening of 28th September—they were quite peaceable—they left and came back at five o'clock; they were quite sober, but they were beaten and battered about the face, and very much cut—Mrs. Crutchley was kicked, and her eyes blackened.

HENRY COLLINS . I am an inspector in the Surrey County Constabulary—on 28th September I saw Nava and Mrs. Crutchley at a quarter before six; they were sober; Mrs. Nava had bruises on her face, and Crutchley the same, and the prisoner Nava had been knocked about—they complained to me, and pointed out Bollatsch and Birch—Mrs. Nava identified them at the police-station—I advised them to take out a summons—we do not take people unless we actually see an assault—I took Birch and Bollatsch's address, and application was made for a summons to one of the Magistrates for the county by Crutchley and Mrs. Nava the very next day—mat was the first day he was had up before the Magistrate—when Mrs. Nava said of Birch, "This is the man who struck me, "Birch replied," Had I have known my mate had been shot, I would have thrown you into the Thames"—I did not hear him say anything else; if he had, I believe I should have heard him, because I was close by.

Cross-examined. The commencement of it was Bollatsch going with me in a trap after Nava, who was nearly a mile away in the direction of Staines Railway Station—Bollatsch pointed Nava out to me—I after wards saw that Bollatsch's finger was bitten on his left hand—a complaint was made by these two men at the police-station, but no complaint was made about Josling or David George.

By MR. FRITH. NO name was mentioned, but other persons were referred to—George was at the police-station at the time Birch was identified—I mean that no complaint was made by name against any other person, but other persons were referred to.

By the COURT. George was with Birch, and Mrs. Nava said nothing about him.

MR. PURCELL called

AMELIA MARTIN . I live at 105, Vauxhall Wharf, Lambeth, and am in the General Laundry—on this Sunday afternoon I was with the two defendants and Mr. and Mrs. George, and Josling and Mr. "Wright—Mrs. George and I were looking towards the river, and we heard a remark made about a child by a woman, one of Nava's friends—there were two

people behind me, and one was at a distance carrying a baby—one woman was Mrs. Nava, and the other Mrs. Crutchley—it was one of them who said something about the baby—Mrs. George picked the baby up, and put it under her cloak, and something was said about nursing a child, and as we turned round I received a blow from Mrs. Nava (The JUDGE here read over the witness's evidence in the former trial.)—Mrs. Bird slapped my face.

Mrs. Bird. You have made a mistake. I said, "Do not go there. I am a woman; do not go there; take my advice, and keep away. "The Witness. You spat in my face. Mrs. Bird. I did not.

The Witness. You said, "What a cowardly thing for a young man to be shot down in that manner. "Mrs. Bird. I did not.

By MR. PURCELL. Birch did not say to Mr. Crutchley, "I will toss you for a quid;" I must have heard it if it was said. Mrs. Crutchley did not say, "My husband has got no quid to toss for "; it is untrue that he said, "If you have not got a sovereign, take that," and struck him in the face; I got into the ditch because we were all clinging together in the struggle—I was trampled upon, and kicked about in the ditch—the two prisoners were sober—I received the first blow.

Cross-examined. I had not said a word to Mrs. Nava before I was struck—it was absolutely without provocation—there was no screaming or calling out for help—I still say that Nava is one of the men I saw when I turned round—it is quite untrue to say that Nava rushed back into the crowd—I made a complaint about being hurt, the first time I was in Court.

By the JURY. I was standing skill, and I turned round—Nava's party were walking, and we were standing still; they were walking when they gave me the blow—neither I or my friends made any improper observation as we were passing Nava's party; Mrs. George and I were alone—I only heard the remark about the child.

DAVID GEORGE . I live at 4, Carpenter Street, "Westminster, and am a fish salesman—I was walking with a young man named Blomfield—Mrs. Martin and Mrs. George were ten or fifteen yards in front—I first saw Amelia Martin and two strange women quarrelling, not fighting, but jawing. (The rest of this witness's evidence was read by the JUDGE, as given in the last case.)

Cross-examined. The first blow was struck me by Crutchley; he knocked me into the hedge—I did nothing—I heard no screams—I never went towards the crowd afterwards.

By the JURY. Before the first blow, when the jawing was going on, I had just time to go up and catch hold of Amelia Martin, and I received the blow a very short tune afterwards.

ALFRED JOHN JOSLING . I was walking with Wright in front of Amelia Martin and Mrs. George—I heard something, and looked back, and saw Amelia Martin and another woman struggling—I do not know that woman as Mrs. Nava—they both fell down, and then I was struck in the arm with a pistol shot.

Cross-examined. I kept out of the crowd—all the people were together, and I kept well out of the way.

The prisoners received good characters.

BIRCH GUILTY of assault occasion an actual bodily harm.

BOLLATSCH GUILTY of a common assault.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-63
VerdictGuilty > pleaded part guilty; Not Guilty > no evidence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

63. ALFRED JOHN JOSLING and DAVID GEORGE, Unlawfully assaulting Jane Nava, James Crutchley, and Agnes Crutchley.

George stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was GUILTY of a common assault, upon which they found that verdict.

MR. K. FRITH offered no evidence against Josling. NOT GUILTY .

GEORGE— Two Months' Hard Labour. BOLLATSCH— Six Months' Hard Labour , BIRCH— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. NAVA— Four Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-64
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

64. GEORGE BODEN (30) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of £4 1s. 3d., with intent to defraud. Other Counts, for altering and uttering the same.

MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted.

MARY STACEY . I am a widow, and live at 207, Great Dover Street—on 8th October, about half-past eleven in the morning, the prisoner came in and asked what apartments we had to let—I. said one bedroom—he said could he see it—he saw it, and took it at 5s. a week—he went away and returned at half-past twelve, and asked if a parcel had come for him—I said, "No"—he went upstairs and sat down till a porter brought a parcel—I took it up to the prisoner, and he came down and spoke to the porter; I did not hear what took place—the porter left, and the prisoner went upstairs—he came down in about five minutes, and said he was going round to his business, and would I take the boxes that were coming in the course of the evening, and he would be home at half-past seven—he gave me this envelope and a shilling—the envelope has the name of Charles Gladman on it; that was the name he gave me—he said he would give me 4s. more when he came back at seven—he did not come back; no boxes came; I next saw him in Court, and pointed him out at once.

AUGUSTA BETSY WATTS . I am clerk in charge of the S. E. district post-office, Borough—I issued this post-office order on this requisition on 8th October—I do not remember the person who handed it to me—it was for £4 1s. 3d.—I made out a duplicate in the ordinary course to the Walworth Road post-office—the requisition order was to Charles Gladman, of Vauxhall Bridge Road.

JOSEPH STANTON . I am salesman of the Capital and Labour Association, 119, Newington Causeway—I know the prisoner—I saw him at our place of business on 8th October, about 11.30, when he asked if he could see a suit of clothes at—I showed him several suits—he selected goods amounting to £4 1s. 3d., two suits of clothes, a pair of boots, and a hat—I gave him the items and amounts on a slip, as he said his father was going to pay for him—he gave the name of Gladwin—he said he was in a situation to be promoted to a certain position, and wanted clothes to keep up appear once in his new position—he gave his address, 207, Great Dover Street, Borough—he said the goods must be sent; I said I would send them—he said, "Not later than 1.30"—I packed the goods and asked Reeves to wait till I came back from dinner—I then gave the porter the goods to be delivered at 1.30—later in the day the porter gave me this post-office, order in this letter. (This was signal Chas G. Gladwin, enclosing post-office order for £4 1s. 3d. in payment of clothes ordered, and requesting a

receipt)—I presented the order—it was not honoured—about a week afterwards I saw the prisoner in custody; he was wearing portions of the clothing he had selected.

JOHN REEVE . I am a porter to the Capital and Labour Association—on 8th October I took a parcel from Mr. Stanton to 207, Great Dover Street—I delivered it to the landlady; she took it upstairs and brought the prisoner down with the parcel—he gave me this post-office order for £4 1s. 3d., and this letter—I took them to Mr. Stanton.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see sufficient of you in the passage to be able to swear to you; I said you resembled the man.

HENRY JENMAN . (Detective Sergeant W). I arrested the prisoner on 11th October—he gave his address as 2, Gladstone Street, Battersea Park Road—I went there next day—I found this stationery and account book—I have compared it with the letter in this case, and they are similar—the prisoner said, "That is my book, and that is my writing."

Cross-examined. You said, at the Swan Hotel, that you had received the post-office order and the letter from a man whose description you gave me; the barmaid said that man had been using the bar—I have not been making inquiries about that man—I went with you to the Swan Hotel, when you gave a description of the man you said you had received the letter from—you said that you had to meet the man at the Swan, but that refers to another case.

Re-examined. When I saw the prisoner in Kennington Road, I told him he would have to explain to me where he got the letter from in the case of Mr. Belcher—a postal order had bean altered in that case.

STEPHENS. I am a confidential clerk in the service of the Post Office—I have had nearly forty years' experience there—I have com pared this note with the writing in this book and with the requisition form, and there are striking similarities; they speak for themselves—I am of opinion they have all been written by the same person.

The prisoner; in his defence, alleged that he had been made a tool of; he denied writing the letters or addressing the envelopes.


He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in August, 1880. There were three other cases against him of altering postal orders. Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-65
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

65. THOMAS RAWLINGSON (24) , Rape on Elizabeth Ann Chapman.

MR. BROMBY Prosecuted, and MR. HUMPHREYS Defended,

GUILTY of indecent assault Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-66
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

66. ARTHUR GEORGE SUMMERS (17) , Unlawfully carnally knowing Susannah Parker Searle, aged nine years.

MR. ELDRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.

GUILTY of indecent assault Six Months' Hard Labour ,

Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-67
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

67. SAMUEL HALL, Robbery with violence (with two others, not in custody) on Charles Hurrell, and stealing 5s., his money.

MR. JONES LEWIS Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.

CHARLES HURRELL . I live at 21, Stamford Street, Blackfriars-on

Saturday, 18th October, about 11 p. m., I was in a street near the New Cut, walking with a female—I had five shillings in my right-hand pocket—three men came up and attacked me; one struck me in the face, another rifled my pocket, and the other threw me by putting his foot between mine; I fell and they left me; the prisoner was the last to go—I got up and followed him; I am sure he is the man, I saw his face—I called out "Police!" and "Murder!"—a policeman captured him; I had not lost sight of him—the woman was coming up behind me—I charged the prisoner with assaulting and robbing me—he said, "Are you sure it was me?"—I said, "Yes, if it was not you, what did you run away for?"—I was not quite sober, but I knew what I was about—I had money in my other pocket; that was not touched.

Cross-examined. I was in the road—there was no one else there but the three men—I saw them before this happened; several people came from the New Cut on hearing my cries—the woman shouted.

Re-examined. I am sure the three men I saw standing there were the men who assaulted me—I had the skin knocked off two fingers and an elbow, and a bump on my face.

JANE GEORGE . I live with my husband, Thomas Edward George, at 45, Imry Square, Waterloo Road—I was with the prosecutor when three men came behind us; one tripped him up, threw him down and put his hand in his right pocket—I halloed "Police!" and the prisoner, who was one of the three, said, "If you don't hold your row I will serve you the same"—I saw his face—when I halloed out the two others ran, leaving the prisoner on the prosecutor, and when people began to come up the prisoner ran; the prosecutor got up and followed him, and I also; I never lost sight of him; I saw the prosecutor take him.

JAMES AITKINS (L 97) About half-past twelve on this night I was on duty in Broad Walk, near the New Cut—I heard cries of "Police!" and "Stop thief!"—I ran in the direction, and saw the prisoner pursued by a crowd; he was about twenty yards in front of them—I chased and caught him, and brought him back—I met the prosecutor, who said, "I have been knocked down and robbed by this man"—his right-hand trousers pocket was turned out—the prisoner said to him twice, "Are you sure I am the man?"—the prosecutor said, "If it was not you, why did you run away?"—at the station the prisoner said, "I have never interfered with this man, and I can get five years' good character."

Cross-examined. I have inquired and satisfied myself that he can do so—some of his employers are here—the street where this assault took place is close to the Saturday night market, where there are always a number of people about, and usually a constable or two on duty.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy.Discharged on his own recognisances.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-68
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

68. EDWARD BROWN (23) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas Preedy, and stealing a chisel value 3d.

MR. THORNE COLE Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.

THOMAS PREEDY . I am a shirt and collar maker, 32, Lambeth Road—on 15th October, at quarter-past ten at night, I went to bed, leaving the windows shut and bolted—between half-past five and a quarter to six my servant called me—I went downstairs and saw the prisoner lying on the kitchen table—I said, "How did you get here?"—he said, "I don't

know"—he wanted to get away—I prevented him, sent for the police and gave him into custody—I examined the place—I saw this pair of boots on the party wall at the back—the prisoner had no boots on—some flowerpots had been removed from inside the window and put on the cistern, and some steps, which had been in the yard, were placed against the wall leading up to the cistern—the window had been opened and closed again—I have a workroom on the ground floor, the win low of which, and the shutters, were partly pulled down—they had been closed the night before—this chisel was used in my trade.

Cross-examined. The workroom window had been opened from the inside—he must have got in from some other house—he seemed to be asleep—he smelt very badly of drink—this chisel, is worth 3d.—I had other things worth taking.

SOPHIA BEADON . I am last witness's servant—on the morning of 16th October I was aroused by a noise—I came down at a quarter to six—I heard heavy breathing, and called out twice, "Is that you?"—receiving no answer, I went and called my master—he went down, and afterwards called out, "Fetch a policeman"—I did so, and went with him into the kitchen, where I found this chisel on the table—I had seen it before in the workroom.

Cross-examined. Nothing was disturbed or gone.

JANE HOBBINS . I am a widow, and work for the prosecutor—I left work on 15th October about a quarter past nine, leaving this chisel, which I use in shirt-making, with other tools.

HARRY SNELGROVE (L 317). I was called to the prosecutor's, where I took the prisoner into custody—on the way to the station he said, "I was drunk and asleep. "

Cross-examined. He smelt strongly of drink—I think he was recovering from the effects.

ROBERT TYLER (Sergeant L 14). I saw this chisel on the table and the prisoner's hat—this pair of boots I found on the wall—the prisoner claimed them—when charged he said, "The chisel was not found in my possession. "

WILLIAM MAY (Inspector L). I examined the premises—I found marks outside the wall in the garden of the Catholic school, and foot-marks corresponding—the prisoner must have climbed over the gate of the school, six or seven feet high, and secreted himself on the premises till all was quiet, and then got over the wall to the garden of the prosecutor's house.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-69
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

69. THOMAS LEWINGTON (15) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering the endorsement to a cheque for £3, with intent to defraud.— Discharged on Recognisances.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-70
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

70. JAMES WILLIAMS (27) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Barrett, and stealing a scarf-pin and £7 10s., his goods and money.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. (The GRAND JURY commended the conduct of the police, in which the COURT concurred). [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-71
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

(71) HENRY BAKER* (20) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Wheatcroft, and stealing two coats, his property.— Ten Months' Hard Labour [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] ,

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-72
VerdictNot Guilty > no evidence

Related Material

72. HENRY COOK ABBOTT, Feloniously wounding Joseph Lakin, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. BLACKWELL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-73
VerdictMiscellaneous > no agreement

Related Material

73 SARAH NYE (43) and LYDIA CLARK (39) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— The JURY being unable to agree, were discharged without giving any verdict.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-74
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

74. WILLIAM BROOKER (22) and GEORGE BROWN (19) , Bur glary in the dwelling-house of Thomas Dakin, with intent to steal therein.

MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

MRS. DAKIN. I am the wife of a compositor; we live at 140, Stamford Street—between 10.20 and 10.40 on the evening of 3rd November I heard the street door snick—it was kept locked, and nobody could open it without a key—I came out, saw marks on the stairs, and spoke to two constables opposite my door—we all went upstairs—in the back room we found Brown under the bed—then we went up to the top floor, and found Brooker under a bed—on the 12th, a week afterwards, I cleaned out the room in which Brooker was found, and I found there three front door-keys and this latch-key against the wall behind the table, in the top back room—nobody could have seen these keys between the 3rd and 12th unless they had moved the things; I only saw them after moving the furniture.

Cross-examined by Brooker. The street door was closed at ten o'clock when I came in—I take in lodgers—both bedroom doors were open—I found all my things safe.

Cross-examined by Brown. You were in the house ten minutes—I think you would have got away if you had not heard me come upstairs twice and say, "Who is there?"'

Re-examined. Neither prisoner lodged in the house at any time.

GEORGE BALDWIN (Sergeant L). At 10.30 p. m. on 3rd I watched the prisoners in the Stamford Road—they turned a corner, and I lost sight of them—seven or eight minutes afterwards Mrs. Dakin came out and called me, and I went into her house—I saw marks as if of recent foot steps on the stairs—McAuliffe went up; he whistled—I went up and pulled Brown from under the bed—I said to him, "What are you doing there?"—he said, "I don't know, I am drunk"—he pretended to be drunk—he was as sober as I am—he did not stagger—in his left-hand coat pocket I found these three keys; this latch-key fits the door of the house they were in; it has been filed—another key was found on Brown that fits the door of that house and also 42, Waterloo Road, as to which there is a charge of burglary; that key was stolen two days previously—I went upstairs with McAuliffe, who found Brooker in the top room; he found two keys on him.

Cross-examined by Brooker, I was ten or twelve yards off when I saw you in Stamford Street.

Cross-examined by Brown. I did not call out "Darkey."

CORNELIUS M'AULIFFE (L 108). I heard Baldwin give his evidence; it is correct—I found Brooker under the bed—I said, "Come out," and he came out—I said, "What are you doing there?"—he said, "Nothing"—I said, "What brought you here?"—he said, "I came to see my

cousin"—I said, "Does he live here?"—he said, "No, he lives some where about here"—I found these keys on him, and these two door keys, and a small bunch of keys on Brooker—I was eight or ten yards behind the prisoners in Stamford Street.

Cross-examined by Brooker. The Magistrate's Clerk put it down as four yards, but I said eight or ten, and I corrected it when it was read to me.

Brooker, in his defence, said he went to see his brother, who lived at 142, Stamford Street, when he last saw him, and that he found the door open and walked upstairs.

Brown said Brooker asked him to go and see his brother, and they went and found the door open.


BROOKER PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in June, 1889, and BROWN* to one in 1890, in the name of Fairfield. There was another indictment against the prisoners for burglary. BROOKER— Five Years' Penal Servitude. BROWN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.


Before Mr. Recorder.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-75
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

75. FREDERICK VAUGHAN GIBSON , unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Alfred Osborn two diamond rings with intent to defraud, and other goods from other persons.


ALFRED OSBORN . I live at 2, Devonshire Terrace, Stratford—up to January last I was employed as manager to Mr. Bowman, jeweller, of Broadway, Deptford—during September and October, 1888, the prisoner bought some small articles of jewellery and a gold watch and chain for £14—in October, or the beginning of November, he came and gave me a visiting card with the name and address, "Frederick Vaughan Gibson, B. A., Houghton Green Manor, Playden,. Rye, Sussex," on the back was written, "1, Ruthin Road, Westcombe Park"—he said he was staying there while he was in town, that his father was lord of the manor at Playden, and owned about 800 acres—he showed me a three-stone diamond ring on his finger, and said it had been given to him, that he had shown it to his father, who thought he might as well have a better one while he was about it, and that he told his father he would ask me about it, and if it would be of any advantage to me I was to get him some to look at, as his father was going to give him a better one—I got from Mr. Bowman some diamond rings; I first gave two to the prisoner; he brought them back in a day or two, and said one was the kind he wanted but not quite good enough, and he asked me to get him some more similar, but more expensive—he showed me a letter purporting to come from his father—it was headed, "Houghton Green Manor," and signed "Gibson"—it spoke about the rings, and said if he sent the rings he would make a choice—I understood that the rings were to be sent to Houghton Green Manor—I gave him back the letter, and agreed to get him the rings for his father's approval—they were to go to Rye—I got three diamond rings of the value of £35, £38, and £50—the defendant had them a few days afterwards—I wrote to him asking which of the rings he would keep—a day or two after he came and brought back one

of them, and I believe he told me his father had still got the other two and he thought he would buy one—a day or two afterwards he showed me a letter purporting to come from the prisoner's father—it spoke of the rings and about my going down to Rye to obtain a settlement for those that were kept—we arranged to go on the Friday or Saturday—before the day came the prisoner called and talked about some friends who were going to see an assortment of bracelets that were going to be sent down—before the day we were to go down the prisoner had two more single stone diamond rings of the value of about £45 and £50—I think he said his father was going to buy one for himself and one for a friend—previous to that the prisoner asked me to get him a diamond brooch and earrings to show to his mother—I agreed to do it, and towards the end of November I also let him have another ring worth £38 or £40—he said we could not go to Rye the day we had arranged, something was not ready, and it was arranged we should go down on the following Wednesday or Thursday—we did not go, but on the first day fixed for us to go I let the prisoner have three more rings of the value of £35 to £40—at the second day he had gone away—he had no rings after the first day we had arranged to go—he kept four or five altogether—I wrote to him at Fern Villas, pressing for a settlement, I think—he called and flew into a temper, and did not like me sending the letter—I got him a diamond spray brooch, worth £25, which he said he would show to his mother—he afterwards said he would have it if I had the earrings to match—he said he would not wait for the earrings, he would take the brooch as it was—that was nearly the last transaction—I got the bracelets and offered to take them to Rye—Mr. Bowman instructed me to take them to Rye myself—when I told that to the prisoner, he said it was no use, they were to be shown to friends some way off—he was very much annoyed, and said he would return all he had got—the value of the diamond bracelets was from £500 to £700—when he proposed writing and getting a cheque, I said, "I will call and get it"—it was arranged I should call the following evening for it, and the next evening I went to 7, Fern Villas and waited two or three hours out side the house—I could make no one hear—I saw nothing of the prisoner—I next saw him at Greenwich Police Court—one of the rings had parted with, I was afterwards shown by Mr. Fitt, a jeweller—I recognised it by the setting—except that ring I have not seen any article that I parted with—I believed at the time the statements that the prisoner made—I had no idea that he was dealing with Mr. Fitt—I have not been in the prosecutor's employment since January.

Cross-examined. I kept some sort of books concerning these transactions—I should make these entries as on approval to the person they were for—I should take note of the messenger—if your servant came I should put your name, not his—I looked to your father through you for payment—I depended on you—the books were made up as transactions occurred—I gave no credit, or credit only for a very short time—if a person paid me within a week it would be entered in the sale book—Mr. Bowman used to call occasionally—I did not know when he was coming—he did not ask about these goods—on an average, perhaps, twenty customers came a day—I do not know where my memo randum is of the things I sent to you—I left it on the shelf when I left the shop—you bought a pair of gold sleeve links in July, 1888, and paid

for them—you bought another set, which you did not pay for directly—I sent the bill to Houghton Green Manor—I don't think I pressed you for money—there were four or five bracelets—the. greatest value of any of them was £80 to £100—I sent you some gold chains, and a large quantity of pearls and diamonds—you returned the chains; you said the pearls were too expensive—I knew you from May to December—during that time you came frequently to the shop—I should think gold is easier to dispose of than diamonds, and pearls than diamonds—I gave you credit for the time for £200 or £300, not standing credit—I was very intimate with you during the time—I drove through Kent with you—I think I believed most of what you told me—I came to Fern Villa one day—you gave me no reason to think you would be gone when I found you gone—the house was in darkness, and no one answered the door—the reason you gave me for not going to Rye looked feasible—I called on your father—I said nothing to him about the fraud—I saw Mr. Scard once—you lent me books and papers, and we had a talk about literature when you called on business—I called on you independently of business.

Re-examined. I entered in a small memorandum book the goods sent out on approval, and in that were entered the goods against the defendant—I have not since seen that book—since I left the employ ment.

By the Prisoner. I wrote these letters—Mr. Bowman was pressing me, and I was pressing you—you said you would like to go where there was a large assortment, and I think I said I would give you a recommendation to consult another firm, but when I told you you could not have them on approbation you refused the letter of recommendation—you gave me £14 for a watch—I was in Mr. Bowman's service up to January last; this matter had a great deal to do with his discharging me—I believe a lad was in the shop when I showed you the letter—he would hear all that was said if he was there—he used to go on errands—you told me you were going to America—after you went to Russia I went to Mr. Fitt, a jeweller—you showed me a letter from your father—everything was included in the bill I sent your father—I was to look through you to your father for the money, as he was going to send it to you; you gave me his address, Houghton Green Manor.

Re-examined. When he showed me the letter he said it was from his father—I was in Mr. Bowman's employ nearly twelve months after I lost sight of the prisoner—Mr. Bowman told me not to let the bracelets go; there were more than four.

OSWALD GLBSON . I am a farmer and grazier at Bady, a mile and a half from Rye—I occupy 150 acres, and own 50, all in one lot—I am not the lord of the manor—the prisoner is my son—I never authorised him to get goods in my name, or made any reference to my buying diamond rings or a spray brooch—I did not write him a letter about his getting rings to be submitted to me for approval, nor did I ever receive such a letter—he went to Russia early in December, 1888, and was away nearly two years—I had letters from him during that time.

Cross-examined. My house is sometimes called Harkaway Manor; it is situated on the manor—I have seen letters addressed to you with B. A. as Bachelor of Arts—you had a private income in 1888—your mother sent you money, £18 or £25—Osborn waited on me three times, once

after the warrant was granted; he said that the prosecutor would com promise the matter for a very small sum, but you have always refused to entertain any compromise—Dalby called on me, but mentioned nothing about fraud—you came to London to surrender to the police, but your mother persuaded you to wait and recruit your health—you wrote a letter to the Commissioners of Police offering to surrender, but I objected to it being sent—I do not think my name was on Mr. Beaumont's bill which Collins showed me—I think I should have noticed it if it was, it was for between £100 and £150.

Re-examined. I had nothing to do with getting the jewellery or disposing of it—the manager came down to tell me what my son had done, and how much goods he had got, and a further visit was made after he went to Russia—I have an idea of what he did with the property—I do not know whether he took the. spray brooch to Russia—I never heard that he was showing it or any jewellery on board ship, and I do not know what has become of it—I nave seen none of it, only what was pro duced in Court—I never wrote a letter calling my house Houghton Green Manor—I never wrote to Mr. Osborn to come down.

By the COURT. My son never showed me a three-stone diamond ring—if he says so, it is not true—I never promised to give him a diamond ring—I never wrote a letter about jewellery to him in my life—I never authorised him to procure diamond rings and send them to me at Eye for the purpose of my selecting one—I never represented myself to be lord of the manor.

CHARLES ROBERT FITT . I am a jeweller, of Old Charlton and Black-heath—I know Fern Villas; I lived next door to the prisoner there—I first knew him in October or November, 1888—he came to my Old Charlton shop early in December, 1888, and showed me two diamond rings—he asked me to value them, and I told him about £25—after speaking to my diamond-setter, I gave him £40 for the two, and £15 for another—I gave him £45 and a cheque for £25—£15 was in gold—he 'took another ring in exchange for £15—this is the receipt, dated 3rd December—he said that he was rather pushed for money, he had outrun the constable, and wanted to sell the things before he went to Russia, as he was disappointed in not having a remittance from his father—I sold one ring to Messrs. Smith and Diamond, of Newgate Street, for £20—my wife lost one of the others on November 15, and this is the third (produced).

Cross-examined. I gave you the full value for them, more than I can get for them—Osborn told me it was a bond fide transaction so far as you were concerned, and that you were right in the matter—I promised you that on your return from Russia you should have the rings again at a little more than the price I gave you if I had not sold them—I sell goods on credit before I pay for them.

Re-examined. The only two papers are the cheque for £25, and the receipt for £15—I have Do entry in my books—I sold the ring to Smith and Diamond on 1st, 2nd, or 3rd December, 1888—I sold one ring within twenty-four hours of buying it—Smith and Diamond are pawnbrokers—I saw the prisoner driving about in a cab with a groom, and knew he was going to sail for Russia shortly—I did not see him again till he was at the Police-court—directly I heard from Osborn about this transaction I went to Inspector Phillips, and told him all about it, and he went with

me to Mr. Bowman, fourteen hours after I knew the transaction was wrong.

JAMES CHADWELL . I was engaged by the prisoner as groom—he was living at Fern Villas—he left for Russia on December 3rd, 1888—up to that time I had been driving for him, and taking care of his horses—he had one horse and one cob and two traps—on many occasions I drove with him to Mr. Bowman's shop, sometimes with one trap, and some times with the other—I once saw Mr. Fitt come out of his shop and speak to the prisoner, who gave him two diamond rings, saying, "Make what you can of them"—that was two or three days before I ceased to see anything of him—I was paid off in lieu of notice, and they were left in my charge till he came back—I had them seven, weeks, but his wife bad a deed of gift, and I had to let them go.

Cross-examined. I am positive you said, "Make what you can of them"—you said you should be back shortly—after you had been seven weeks gone your wife disposed of the property—I did not go to you with a character—I have never been suspected of anything to my knowledge, hut you told me more than once that somebody told you so.

Re-examined. I have never been in any trouble that I remember, but at one time a man told me I was suspected about something—the prisoner asked me about it, and I denied it.

FREDERICK HUGHES . I was assistant to Mr. Osborn, at Mr. Beaumont's shop at Deptford in 1888, and saw the prisoner come there many times—he told Mr. Osborn he wanted some diamond rings to show to his father, who was going to make him a present of one—I did not see a lady's spray diamond brooch—the prisoner produced a letter to Osborn, which Osborn read, and said that it came from his father, who was lord of the manor of Bye, Sussex.

Cross-examined. You volunteered that—you may have come two or three times in May—I remember once when you had no groom I held your horse while you went inside to speak to Mr. Osborn; you came to the shop about four times while I was there.

HENRY BISHOP (Police Sergeant R). I found the prisoner at Rye, de tained by the police, from whom I received him on this warrant, dated 15th December, 1888—I read it to him, it was for converting a diamond ring to his own use—he said, as it only one ring?"—I did not answer him—he said, "Mr. Bowman pushed the rings on me; I should have paid for them on my return from Russia; I wrote a letter to give myself up to the Commissioner of Police, but my father stopped my sending it."

ARTHUR BOWMAN . I carry on business in Brixton, Deptford, and Camberwell—the Deptford shop was in Mr. Osborn's management—I met the prisoner in the shop—after he had obtained the rings and spray brooch he was to bring me a cheque from his father for the goods he had had; and he wanted to have some diamond bracelets to take down to Rye on approbation for selection—as he did not bring the cheque, which was to be for between £200 and £300, I told him I should not let him have the bracelets—he left in a hurry, and said that if Osborn came to his house next evening he would give him the cheque, as he was going to receive it from his father in the country—that was the last time I saw him before he returned from Russia—I did not know he was going there—I went to his house next morning and he was gone, and the next time

I heard of him he was on the road to Russia—I have seen none of my property except one ring, and have had no money—I applied for a warrant; and the next time I saw him was in Greenwich Police-court.

Cross-examined. I have books showing what price I gave for these articles—they are not here—I did not keep an account of the goods sup plied by Osborn, he was supposed to do that—he did not bring back a bill which was sent, nor did Collins—as far as my memory goes you told me that your father was lord of the manor—I sent down to see if there was such a person as lord of the manor, and I believe I sent to your father a second time to see if you were there—I did not send a third time after the warrant was granted—Collins is in my employ still; he went down with my consent, but could not see you, because you were a Russia—you attempted to obtain five or six bracelets, the best one was worth £130 or £140, and the rest of less value.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he did not say that his father was lord of the manor, but a tenant of the lord of the manor, and that Mr. Osborn admitted that he looked to him, the prisoner, only, for the money; that he had obtained an appointment in Russia; but before leaving England he would have surrendered if he knew a warrant had been granted. He relied on the discrepancies in the evidence and the absence of the books, for an acquittal.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-76
VerdictGuilty > pleaded part guilty; Not Guilty > no evidence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

76. WILLIAM ADAMS (35) and WILLIAM GIFFORD (22) , Unlawfully conspiring to obtain goods from Benjamin Hooper and others by false pretences.

ADAMS PLEADED GUILTY to Counts 7 to 20.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

MR. PAUL TAYLOR offered no evidence against GIFFORD— NOT GUILTY .

MIDDLESEX CASES—(continued).

THIRD COURT.—Friday, November 28th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-77

Related Material

77. EDWIN MEALING, Unlawfully writing and publishing a false and malicious libel of and concerning William Lotinga.

MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted, and MR. TICKELL Defended.

WILLIAM LOTINGA . I am a general merchant, at 125, Fenchurch Sreet—I act as London agent for William Sidebottom amongst other firms since May, 1889—on 23rd September the defendant entered my service as a traveller and general clerk, and on the 1st October, 1889,1 discharged him—he said he would be revenged on me, and would ruin me as I had him—this letter is in his writing. (This stated that he had been told by a friend that Lotinga had a few years ago misappropriated a large sum of money, ship dues, which had not been repaid twelve months ago; that he knew the firm in question would give help if proceedings were to be taken that Mrs. Lotinga, who had brought an action against the Commercial Union Insurance Company, was of the same family, and that the money was misappropriated before the trial, and was spent in law fees; that after the affair ended the family disappeared)—on 21st December I commenced an action against Mr. Sidebottom, in the course of which a discovery of documents was

made by Sidebottom—this is the affidavit, dated 29th July, 1890, in which documents are disclosed—amongst them is a letter from the prisoner dated 13th December, 1889—in July last I was twenty-three years of age—the law proceedings referred to in the letter took place during 1883 and 1884—I was then sixteen—I had left school some months—I first saw this alleged libel during August last at Messrs. Rawcliffe's office.

Cross-examined. I first heard of this letter when it was disclosed in the affidavit of documents in the trial of an action—the defendant made discovery in process of law—I did not know of the existence of that letter till then—I was aware there were several such letters—Sidebottom had not threatened me with a prosecution prior to that action—he took his agency away—the defence he has given was that I had defrauded him—he had not accused me of fraud, and threatened to prosecute me before that—he made statements that had been made to him in several letters that I had done a number of things—in his letters to my solicitors I believe he made statements that I had defrauded him—my action against Sidebottom was for wrongful dismissal—I was his London agent on agreement—his defence was that I had been guilty of fraud in connection with a certain journey which he said had not been made, for which £25 was charged, and that I had charged for the postage of 800 letters which had never been posted—they were posted—I dismissed a Mr. Brown, a traveller, at the same time as I dismissed the prisoner—when I dismissed the prisoner he most certainly said something about ruining me—I do not know if Brown was there—I feel this libel very & cutely—I tried to prose cute last December, but I could not. get the letters—I charged the prisoner with libel and conspiracy to ruin me about a month after his dismissal—we made an application to the Mansion House, but could get no documents—we could not get process granted—the case did not come on—I wrote to Mr. Sidebottom stating the facts exactly—I have not said the prisoner was a scoundrel that I recollect—I put before my principal the whole of the facts—I wrote, "On the accusation and invitation of a scoundrel such as Mealing"—I also wrote on the 11th November, 1889, "I was surprised by the strange conduct of your son in my office, who, in my absence, ransacked the drawers, collected all letters to me, and some of our circulars, and who appeared to be in correspondence behind my back with a clerk whom I had dismissed for defrauding and attempting to defraud you of twenty tons of cotton waste"—one of the. clerks I was charging with fraud was Mealing—I dismissed him for attempting to defraud Sidebottom of an order—he was only with me between three weeks and a month—I tried to prosecute him.

Re-examined. I brought actions, I think, against other principals like Sidebottom, and succeeded in them—they were all based on exactly the same facts—this one is pending—Brown was my clerk—I had told Side-bottom before the 11th of November by letter that I accused the prisoner of defrauding me—I made the accusation against him as far back as 1889—he has never taken proceedings against me—he did not ask me for a character—I wrote to all his references telling them not to give him a character—no proceedings have been taken against me by him since I applied, on 6th December, 1889, at the Mansion House for proofs against him because of the reports I had heard that he had made against me in these different letters—it was those letters that brought about five actions against me—the Magistrate would not grant the summons.

ISAAG SIDEBOTTOM . I am manager to my father, a cotton-waste manufacturer, at King Street, Oldham—he is an invalid, and takes no active part—I open all letters addressed to him—I received this letter, dated 13th December, addressed to my father—I read it, and probably should put it in my pocket—I gave it to my father—Mr. Lotinga is suing my father for breach of agreement—I do not think the manager would have seen the letter—I said before the Magistrate, "It was certainly road by me, and also by my manager," but when it was read over to me I said I was not certain about those words, and asked that they should be struck out.

Cross-examined. The letter was received at Oldham—I have not got the envelope—it was destroyed—it was addressed from Wood Green—it was written by the prisoner to us in answer to a letter we wrote to him asking him to inquire into the character of Lotinga, to say if he had been guilty of any similar thing to the fraud we charged him with—I wanted to find out his previous character—at that time we had sufficient evidence for a criminal proceeding, and we wanted corroboration—Lotinga had accused Mealing of crime more than Mealing had Lotinga—the action by Lotinga against us is still pending—he commenced that when we charged him with fraud—we have pleaded fraud in the action—Mealing will be one of our London witnesses in that action—the letters have been in our solicitors' hands, and Mealing only saw them for the first time yesterday, when he asked for copies of them—I have known Mealing, perhaps, twelve months—he is respectably connected—I have no reason to believe he is guilty of fraud.

Re-examined. I think I have been in connection with Mealing since November, 1889—there has been a good deal of correspondence between us—he has acted on our behalf in this case—we wanted to prosecute, but mid not got sufficient materials—we have since discovered fresh things—we entered the matter in the County Court to recover our money—ho pleaded illness, and the same day he was in the Law Courts—the action never came on because he did not turn up—we discontinued it—I do not know that we paid the costs; our solicitor will tell—we have counter-claimed for the money—I do not know if the costs are paid.

NATHANIEL GREEN . I am clerk to Messrs. Rawcliffe, of 1, Bedford Row—this letter was produced to me in August, at 1, Bedford Row, by the solicitors in the action of Sidebottom—Mr. Lotinga was with me, and we inspected these documents, and then he saw the letter for the first time, and made a copy of it.

Cross-examined. It was produced with an affidavit in, the discovery of documents in the course of the proceedings in the civil action in consequence of a summons having been taken out for discovery.

WILLIAM AETHUE SHEEN . I was clerk to Messrs. Lotinga and Co., at 165, Fenchurch Street, from April, 1889, to 20th July, 1889—after that I was employed by Mr. Dixon, whose office adjoins Lotinga's—I remained there about seven months till February, 1890—I never knew the prisoner except by sight—I saw him go in and out of Lotinga's office—just before I left Mr. Dixon's at the beginning of this. year, I saw the prisoner in the hall of the building—he said, "Lotinga did mo harm, and I will do for him"—no one else was present—Brown was not there.

Cross-examined. Mr. Lotinga sent me a post-card this week or last week, asking me to attend at his office—I had not told anybody about

this conversation before I went to his office; he said he wanted me to give evidence in a case that was proceeding against Johnson Brothers, of Hull—I only know Brown by sight—I had not been to him before that—I know him now—I had not been to him and offered to give evidence for the prisoner if it was made right for me; that is untrue—I never offered to give evidence for the prisoner.

Re-examined. Lotinga asked me to give evidence in another case, and then I told him of this conversation.

ARTHUR BAILBY . I live at 22, Trebover Road, Earl's Court, and am clerk to Messrs. White, Child and Company, Queen Street—I was engaged by Mr. Lotinga from 13th May, 1889, to 8th November in the same year as clerk—the prisoner was in his employment during that time—I was there when he was dismissed—I had not known him before I came to Lotinga's—I only knew him as a fellow clerk—I saw him once after he left in the building where the offices were—he said he would ruin Mr. Lotinga—that was between the 30th October and 8th November—I cannot fix the date—he was living somewhere north—Wood Green.

Cross-examined. I did not give evidence before the Magistrate—I was asked to give evidence in this case about the beginning of this year—I gave the evidence I have given to-day in January—I was dismissed by Mr. Lotinga—it was not because I had opened his drawers with false keys—he charged me with it—he dismissed me before he asked me about the keys—he dismissed all the other clerks, and did not want me there—he gave me notice the week before—it was after my dismissal he asked me to give evidence in this case, and. after he had charged me with tampering with his drawers, and also with reading his correspondence and letters—after that he called me as a witness.

Re-examined. When I gave evidence this action was pending against Sidebottom.

MR. ISAAC SIDEBOTTOM (Re-examined). I was in correspondence with the prisoner in December—I met him at Lotinga's office then—I expect he was living at Wood Green.

MR. TICKELL submitted that the COURT had no jurisdiction to try the case, as the alleged libel was received at Oldham, and there teas no evidence of its having been written or posted in London, and also that this was a privileged communication, Mr. Sidebottom having requested the prisoner to make inquiries into Mr. Lotinga's character, for the purpose of Mr. Sidebottoml's defence in the civil action (Reg. v. Moody and Ryan). The COMMON SERJEANT, after hearing MR. LAWLESS, ruled that it was a privileged communication, and that it was for the prosecution to show express malice, and (after consulting the KEOORDER) also ruled that the question of publication should be left to the JURY.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ARTHUR BROWN . I was formerly in Mr. Lotinga's service—I left on 31st October, 1889—I was not dismissed—when the prisoner left the service he said nothing about ruining Lotinga, but at the time this exposure as to the circulars which were not posted occurred he said to Lotinga that he was a young man now, and he hoped this would be a lesson to him to go straight in the future—just before the Johnson Bros. case was heard, Sheen came to me and said he had made a certain state ment, and had boon asked to say things that he was not in a position to Swear to, and that he wished to see Johnson's solicitors to go into the. witness-box to refute that statement—I believe he went to Messrs.

Rawcliffes—there was litigation between Lotinga and Johnson, and Sheen had been called for Lotinga.

Cross-examined. I believe the action was compromised in some way—I think this was the second time I had seen Sheen—it was at Cannon Street Station I saw him on this occasion—he was introduced to me by Mr. Antony—it was the first time I had seen him—he made this state ment straight off—he said he had made a certain statement, and that he wished to see Messrs. Rawcliffe, Johnson's solicitors, for the purpose of going into the box and refuting that statement, because he had said certain things which he could not swear to—he was brought to me for the purpose of saying that—Mr. Antony said, "This is Mr. Brown"—I do not see Antony here—he was formerly a clerk of Mr. Lotinga's—he left the service—Sheen swore an untruth if he said he did not know before who Brown was—I did not notice him say that—I was about three weeks in Lotinga's service, the same time as the defendant—I was taken on trial—I left of my own accord—he complained of my being absent—there was little or no ground for it—I left on the Thursday when the exposure occurred about the circulars in reference to Lotinga himself—the prisoner did not make the remark about Lotinga in a fit of temper, he was cool enough—there was ill-feeling between myself and Lotinga—I went out after Mealing—I think Mealing said something about being entitled to a week's salary—I was paid up to the Saturday—I think we went out together—I think he followed me out of the door—I might have left a moment before him—I think I put my coat on—I joined him just outside the office door—I don't know if he was paid his salary, because I went out first.

By the COURT. There were circulars in the office to be posted and money was received for it, and they were never sent out of the office by Lotinga—the circulars were all in a drawer—the defendant was dismissed the following day.

Re-examined. Lotinga admitted that he had not posted these circulars, and cried, and was very much upset, and after that the prisoner said, "1 hope this will be a lesson to you"—I was not dismissed; I left that very day, and as I was putting on my coat the prisoner made use of that expression.


24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-78
VerdictGuilty > pleaded guilty
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Imprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

78. CHARLES TAPLIN (31) ALFRED SUTTON (30), and WALTER WHITE (31), PLEADED GUILTY to conspiracy to cheat and defraud Her Majesty of £80 and £9, and other sums.—TAPLIN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. SUTTON and WHITE— Two Years' Hard Labour.

The COURT commended the conduct of the police officers.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-79
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown

Related Material

79. HARRY LANGLEY, Robbery with violence on Ellen Landry, and stealing a purse and 7Jd., her property.

MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.

ELLEN LANDRY . I am the wife of Arthur Landry, of 20, Lismore Circus, Kentish Town—on 1st November, about nine p. m., I was alone, and as I passed the corner of Alcroft Road with my purse containing about sevenpence halfpenny or nine-pence in my left hand, the prisoner made a grab at it, and took a piece of skin off my thumb; I held the purse tightly, and he put his arm round my waist and said, "Come

hero," and threw me down as if I were a dog, and hurt me very much—I am in an advanced state of pregnancy—I screamed out—he took my purse while I was on the ground—he ran away—I told my husband, and he told the police—I was very bad and ill next day, and hare not been well since—I never saw the prisoner before to my knowledge—on the Tuesday after the robbery I saw him from my window going round the Circus, and recognised him—on the 12th I went to the station and saw eight or nine men, and identified the prisoner without hesitation; he is the man.

FRANCES PAMMENT . I live at 22, Lismore Circus, and am a widow—on the evening of the 1st November I was coming out of my door, which is close to the corner of Alcroft Road—a little before nine I saw a woman thrown down by the prisoner—I could not say it was Mrs. Landry—I saw the prisoner stoop over the person and run away past me—I am quite sure it was the prisoner—there was a lamp just by there—on the 12th I went to the station and picked the prisoner out from amongst six or eight others after I had looked at him two or three times.

JOHN OBAGGS (Police Sergeant Y). At 8.45 p.m. on 12th November I saw the prisoner in Lismore Circus—having received a description from Mrs. Landry, I said to him, "I am going to take you in custody for assaulting a woman and stealing her purse and sevenpence halfpenny, on the 1st November"—he said, "That is all right, I can prove where I was on that Saturday night"—at the station he was placed with six other men and identified by the last two witnesses—in answer to the charge he said, "I deny all about it"—Rhyl Street is two or three minutes' walk from Alcroft Road.

Witness for the Defence.

MARY ANN LANGLET . I live at 172, Carlton Road, Kentish Town, and am a widow and a laundress—the prisoner is my son—on this night he was with me working in my employer's laundry, at 72, Bhyl Street—he was there from 7.30 till 9.30, Ann Hall was there too—we all three left together at 9.30, and came to the bottom of Bhyl Street, and at 9.45 I left him there—he went home with her.

Cross-examined. It would take me a quarter of a hour I daresay to walk from 72, Rhyl Street to the corner of Alcroft Road—a younger person might go in ten minutes—my son came there for some money my employer owed him, as he had done a little mangling in the week—he never left the house till he left with me—we were in the same room all the time, except when he took a basket of washing downstairs—he did not go out of the house—that was the only time he went out of the laundry—he could not have left the house—my employer was in the other room—it was before eight that he went down with a basket of things—there is no clock in the laundry—I know it was half-past nine we left, because our master paid us at half-past nine.

ANN HALL . I am the wife of Thomas Hall, a labourer, of 76, Upper Park Road—from half-past seven till half-past twelve on the 1st November the prisoner was in my company.

Cross-examined. We were working together at 72, Rhyl Street, and left our work about half-past nine—I was there when he came in—I was working in the same room with Mr. Langley—I believe the prisoner went downstairs, but I did not see him—he could not have gone out of the house without my seeing him.

GEORGE PAGE . I am thirteen, and live at 5, Lamble Street, Kentish Town—I was passing at the time this was done—Lomax, Smith, and Clinker were standing at the corner—I walked by in the middle of the road, and when the woman came by they knocked her over, and Lomax took the purse away and went down Lamble Street, and Clinker and Smith ran down Haverstock Road—I went on—I told nobody about it.

Cross-examined. My brother first told me on the Wednesday, when the prisoner was taken up, that this man was to be tried for it—I came here by myself—have been here all the week—I did not know the prisoner was before the Magistrate on the following day—when I saw the detective I told him—I knew the prisoner and Mrs. Langley—I have never spoken to her about this—I told a policeman about these three men last Satur day, and I went with him, but we could not see any of them.

GEORGE BATTY . I am a portmanteau maker, and have a laundry business as well at 72, Rhyl Street—on 1st November I saw you in my house at half-past eight, and you left with your mother at half-past nine.

Cross-examined. I was not in his company all the time, but he could not have left without my knowledge.

The prisoner, in hit defence, denied all knowledge of the charge, and said prosecutrix had picked him out simply because she knew him.


The COMMON SERJEANT added that he was discharged without a stain on his character.

THIRD COURT.—Saturday, November 29th, and Monday, December 1st, and

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, December 2nd, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-80
VerdictNot Guilty > unknown; Miscellaneous > no agreement

Related Material


MR. C. MATHEWS and MR. BIRON Prosecuted.

MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended Casey. MR. ✗ and MR. TYRRELL Defended Day and Burnett.

FMMANUEL LAZARUS . I am manager to my brother, Abraham Lazarus, a dealer and outfitter, 192 and 193, High Street, Shoreditch—he has thirty-five or thirty-six employes—each workman is allowed to leave his work at four o'clock one afternoon a week—the employes were satisfied with that arrangement—Casey is a dealer and outfitter, at 76 and 77, High Street—Day is in his employment—I don't know Hurnell—the petition produced was brought to me by Mr. Stagg. (This purported to be from the Early Closing Association, deciding to close at five on Thursdays from 3rd July, 1890, provided the arrangement was generally adopted in the trade)—I discussed the matter, and Stagg explained the object was a general movement, and I signed on that condition—Stagg seemed satisfied—on 19th September several of these bills were sent to exhibit in our windows announcing that we were to close from 16th October—in consequence of receiving that notice I wrote to the Secretary of the Association this letter. (Inquiring whether the arrangement to close early had been adopted in the Whitechapel district, and expressing willingness to I support the movement when that was done.)—I communicated with Messrs. Gardiner, tailors and outfitters in a large way of business in White chapel, less than a mile from our premises—Gardiners are powerful competitors

—having communicated with Gardiners they said they would not, come into the movement—their shop is at the corner of Commercial Road—on 9th October my brother saw Casey—on 10th October I received this letter. (Advising closing on Thursday next.)—the Thursday after 6th October was the first day for closing mentioned in the placard—I did not close—on 22nd October Casey brought a petition, accompanied by some ladies—it was left the next day—it was to ask my brother to come into the movement—in consequence of that petition, on the 22nd this letter was sent to Casey. (Regretting he was unable to close unless Gardiner's were brought into the movement)—I came up at part of the interview with my brother on the 23rd—when Casey and my brother were at the door, Casey was coming out of the shop; my brother was very excited; he said Mr. Casey had grossly insulted him, and accused Casey of having called him a liar, and Casey threatened to force my brother to close—I said to my brother, I should have Casey put out of the shop, I would not be insulted—Casey said, "I am going to fetch Mr. Phillips to prove you are a liar"—I said, "If you come back you will not be admitted"—then Casey went away—he returned in a few minutes with Mr. Phillips—I was at the door—I allowed Mr. Phillips to go in, but not Casey—Casey tried to force his way, and I pushed him out—Casey said if I would come outside he would fight me first and my brother afterwards—Phillips walked out directly afterwards—he is a hosier in High Street—they went away about 1.30—I was in charge of the shop all that day—I did not close at five—shortly after five a band of young men commenced to parade the premises, about twenty at first, but they gradually increased—I saw Casey of the opposite side the whole evening, talking to people; the other two defendants were mixing with the crowd and some men were giving bills out not to shop after five—I saw a man coming up to the window and trying to persuade men from coming into the place—I did not hear what he said, I have witnesses who did—customers came in and complained of it to me—the road is twelve to thirteen yards wide—the patrolling went on from 5.30 to nine, our closing hour—on Thursday, 30th October, we were open, as usual, about five—from 5.30 a crowd began to collect until past six—bills were distributed—a little after six I heard music; I opened the first-floor window and saw a van, and heard a band of music approaching—the van was covered in—there was a board 15 feet by 9 feet, with the shop assistants' prayer written on it: "Friend Lazarus, keep to your word, "or" agreement, by closing at five o'clock on Thursdays, and your petitioners will ever pray"—the band was the signal for a tremendous uproar; hundreds accompanied, and when it got in front of the shop it made almost a dead stop, and changed some lively tune for the Dead March—Casey and Day were on the opposite side—I saw Casey from 6.15 to 8.30 opposite—Day was speaking to Casey, and once they crossed to our doorway and stopped till the police moved them on—there was almost a block in the road—the traffic was almost stopped—as the evening went on the crowd got larger and very fierce, hissing and hooting—at 7.30 when the van came along again Hurnell was on the front, they stopped in front of the doorway and threw handbills up in the air for the people—Hurnell took off his hat and waved it to the people in front of our premises—a tremendous uproar and hooting continued till

9 p. m.—this is a photograph of the premises—the band went along Shoreditch, and returned several times—I left at nine to go to Shoreditch Station—I live at Stoke Newington—I usually go alone—this time I had eight assistants because of the furious mob—Hurnell pushed his way towards me—he was not quite an arm's length—he put up his hand—I said, "Do not put up your hand towards me"—the crowd was making a fearful noise—there were cries of "Murder him," "Rip him up," and "Get at him"—the police seemed to take hold of me, I seemed to lose all consciousness—I was carried to the station—I was frightened—the crowd was holloaing and hooting, and the police were knocking the people down to get me along—the station gates were barred to prevent people getting on to the platform—I got into the train and went home—the crowd was very riotous—I have since seen this placard in Casey's window—these are extracts from the Star and other papers. (Photo graphed from reports and comments.)

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAW. I have written to the press about this—I have had these premises twelve months—the band played "Britons never shall be slaves," and the crowd said, "Hurrah"—the band played the Dead March, and the crowd said, "Boo"—there is no rivalry on our part—I will swear some other establishments did not close at five—I can name Hopkins and Co., large drapers, and Rotherhams, a few minutes walk off, drapers—I believe Rotherhams close at four on Saturdays—Gardiners do not close—I engaged the private detective Pranomandel, of Edgware Road—he engaged another, Hodson—partly on the information of Hodson, I determined to prosecute Casey, not partly on Edwards' information—I saw Edwards last, yesterday—I saw him the day before in a public-house—I saw him first when I went to the last hearing at the Police-court—he is not a witness—I do not know he was discharged by Casey for drunkenness—I have not promised to take him into my service, nor has my brother that I know—Mr. Stagg was the first who came to jne about this movement in June—I signed the movement conditionally—Casey was neighbourly till October 23 rd—I objected to the statement that we did not keep our word, being plastered in every shop window in Shoreditch—I have not quarrelled with every tradesman—I am disliked by about twenty tradesmen, not the majority—there has been no inter ference with my trade since 23rd October—I am prosecuting for protec tion, because the defendants will only give their undertaking to do nothing—Phillips is the proprietor of the Great Eastern Stores—we are not the same religion—I have not been him since the agreement to close—I was friendly before the agreement with Phillips not with Casey—I did not see Casey talking to a policeman on the 23rd—I did not call Casey a liar—I was not laughing and joking when I got to the station—I know Arthur Wood by sight—he is an assistant to a tobacco manufacturer—I suffered no bodily injury—I was not laughing about this with the witnesses, at the Police-court—T think we are the injured party.

Cross-examined by MR. TYRRELL. I complain of Day and Hurnell systematically obstructing our business on 30th ult.—I make no charge As to the 23rd—I complain of the defendants signalling for the hooting and hissing—Hurnell attempted to strike me, he put his hand up—Farquhar must have been about—no one was charged with a breach of the peace—the police were about.

Re-examined. I signed the agreement to close, on condition that it was generally adopted in the trade—I considered it was not generally adopted—other shops opened—I did not go out till I went to the station at nine o'clock—after the 30th I consulted my solicitors—I applied for a summons the following Saturday.

ABRAHAM LAZARUS . On 23rd October, Casey and Mr. Larkins came to my shop with the agreement to close early—I had said I was willing to close early if it was generally adopted in the trade—Casey said, "It is cowardly of you not carrying out your agreement"—I said I had not broken my word—he made remarks about" Shoreditch bully "and" Cowards"—he said, "A Shoreditch bully who beats his wife is a coward, "that he was hot' on the subject, and not easily cooled, that he would force me to close, in spite of myself—I said, "You'll never force me to it"—he spoke about my meanness, and was insulting in his remarks—I told him to get out of my shop—he said I was a liar, had broken my word, and I again told him to go out of the place; I wanted no further conversation with him—he walked further into the shop, jumped on the counter, and defied me—he said, "You try to put me out and you'll find yourself in a fix"—I told him I should not touch him, but requested him to leave; he refused—I told him I should send for a policeman—he again defied me and asked me to try and put him out—Larking persuaded him to get of. the counter and leave—he was told not to come back—I told him he would not be allowed to come in—Emmanuel heard part of it—one assistant was about—it was dinner time, most of them were away—all the conversation was carried on by Casey—when Casey came back I was at the other end of the shop—I came forward as he was at the door—he tried to push his way in—I stood in front of him and Mr. Phillips, and placed my hand so as to prevent his coming into the shop—he said, "You call me a liar?"—I was excited then, I said, "So you are"—he thoroughly upset me—on 30th October I was in my shop till about four p. m.—in consequence of information I received afterwards, I consulted my solicitors, and instructed them to apply for a summons at the Police-court—since then I have not been annoyed—I am taking these proceedings to insure a continuance of that immunity.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. There has since been no riot—I did not call Casey a liar, I said, "Do you are"—he was not calm—I know Phillips—Larking was present—they are respectable tradesmen—I do not know that Casey said when he came back," I have brought Mr. Phillips to hear you say what I said is true, although you did call me a liar, "nor that my brother said, "So you are a liar, and we told you not to come here again"—I have not an accurate recollection of everything that took place—I do not remember my brother rushing at Casey, taking him by the coat, and pushing him into the street—Gardiner's is under a mile off the corner of Commercial Street, it adjoins Shoreditch—our customers come from all neighbour-hoods—I should not decline to close because Pooles or some one in the West-end did not close—I had not spoken to Casey till the 23rd—my assistants are not overworked—Casey implored me to sign the agreement to close my shop—we do not close on Saturday—I do not know that we were the only ones who refused to close on Thursdays—I am afraid it is partly owing to our action the movement has failed in our neighbourhood.

Cross-examined by MR. BUENIE. I did not count 'the signatures to the petition—I do not know that every one of the 150 who signed closed besides us—I made no inquiries—I did not sign—when I say the trade generally, I mean as far as Bow or Poplar, not West Ham.

Re-examined. We advertise a good deal, and attract customers from Whitechapel and Shoreditch—Gardiners also advertise the businesses close very much; I notice our customers go from one house to the other.

JOHN SHAEKEY . I am a salesman to Mr. Lazarus—on Thursday, 23rd October, between twelve and one o'clock, most of the assistants were at dinner—I was in the shop and heard the early part of the conversation between Casey and Abraham Lazarus—I was in the window—I heard voices, and I got out—I heard Casey say, "I am very hot on this subject, and when I do get hot it takes a great deal to cool me; I will force you to close in spite of yourself; it is only your meanness for the sake of a few pounds you will draw when other people will shut; your name is the fourth or fifth on the list; when the others stuck to their bargain you kept open and deceived us all; I tell you I'll force you to close; you have told an untruth M—Mr. Lazarus said, "I have not, it is you who has told the untruth; get out of my place, I do not wish to speak to you M—Casey walked further into the shop, and facing Lazarus, said, "You put me out"—he then jumped on the counter and sat there—he said, "Try to put me out, lay your hands on mo, and you will find yourself in a fix"—he left—he came back in ton minutes with Mr. Phillips—I was in the window—on 30th October I was in the shop till 6.20—I saw a crowd while I was in the window—they were walking backwards and forwards delivering bills—about 6.15 a band passed—it played" Bule Britannia "till it passed the door, when it struck up the" Dead March"—it stood a little, then moved on—while I was out it passed again—the police were trying to keep the crowd moving—they wore hooting and hissing while the van passed—they crowded round the front door as much as possible—as I was coming from tea I saw Casey on the opposite side, at about 7.50, talking to three men—one of them, George Edwards, knew mo—he said, "You had better not go in to-night"—I said, "I certainly will"—Casey came forward and said to Edwards, "Now, George, go aero s, it is coming"—Casey ran to the edge of the pavement and called, "Here, George!"—Edwards came back—I got as close as possible to them—I heard Casey say, "Give a loud hoot as it passes"—I saw Edwards take off his hat as the van passed, and wave it, and while it played" Rule Britannia, "he shouted" Hurrah!"—then the band struck up the" Dead March, "and he commence is to call out" Boo!"

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was not at the Police-court—I am in the service of the prosecutor—I have a fairly good memory—I was not told by Mr. E. Lazarus to listen to Casey—I wrote a statement—I read it to Mr. Lazarus the same night—I gave it to Mr. E. Lazarus—I made no other—this is it—Casey's name was not mentioned—I was told when I was out at tea, to go across and keep my eyes open and see what I could see—I heard Casey toll Mr. Lazarus lie had called Casey a liar—that was at the front door—that was after Casey said he would not leave because he had been insulted—Casey was very much excited—Mr. Lazarus was a little excited, not so much as the other—I did not hear

Casey say, "You have called me a liar, I will not go kill you have cleared it up"—I heard Mr. Lazarus say, "So you are"—that was after casey came back with Phillips—I did not see Mr. Lazarus take hold of Casey—I saw Mr. E. Lazarus take hold of Casey's shoulder to push him back, to keep him from coming in—Phillips was there—Edwards was the worse for drink—I have known him three years—I do not know he was dismissed by Casey for drunkenness—I do not know Bensemer nor James Barnes—Edwards was not staggering drunk with me—I heard Casey's voice in the crowd.

Re-examined. I was close, and saw what Casey was doing.

ROBERT MARSHALL . I am Mr. Lazarus' manager in the ready-made department—on 30th October, at 5.30, 300 or 400 people had assembled when the band arrived about six p. m.—they followed the band, hooting and yelling outside the shop—the band stopped opposite the door a minute or so, playing the Dead March—the crowd increased as the evening went on to 1,500 or 2,000—I was in the shop with Mr. E. Lazarus—I should call the crowd very riotous, till we closed—I left the shop in front of Mr. E. Lazarus at 9.30—a number of employes left with us—as we got to the corner of the pavement at Holywell Lane there was a rush towards Mr. Lazarus, and we surrounded him as well as we could—I heard "That is him" and shouting—the police gathered round us and we escorted Mr. Lazarus to the station—I got a severe kick on the leg crossing Holywell Lane—the crowd followed) and kept shouting and making a great noise—they were very angry—their demeanour created terror in my breast.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGIIEGAN. There were about eight assistants round Mr. Lazarus—the police pushed the people aside—I did not see the police knock the people down—I did not go to the police-station to make a computer—I did not ask for police protection or endeavour to find out who assaulted me—I did not complain to anyone—I was at business the next morning—I told Mr. Lazarus the next morning what had happened—I did not write it down—no solicitor took my statement—I have seen Detective Hodson outside.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. Other dealers in Shoreditch shut their shops on this evening as far as I know—I was not out after five, ours being a corner shop might attract attention, but would not create an assembly.

WLLLIAM FREDERICK GATTSDEN . I live at 40, Udder Street, Bow—I am a salesman to Messrs. Lazarus—I was in the shop on 30th October, about 6 or 6.30—I saw the crowd outside, hooting and hissing—I heard the band on each occasion, it passed very slowly by—one part of the evening about 2,000 persons had congregated—that was towards the night—the crowd increased as the evening went on—I went out and mixed with the crowd about seven or a little after—I saw Casey and Day—I heard Casey say to a gentleman, "We have waited upon Lazarus like a Crown Prince," and that if he did not give way and join before Christmas he would try to get the assistants out on strike, and keep them out till such time as Lazarus would give way—Day came up from the direction of Lazarus' shop—Casey told him to go and keep a strict guard over the door, and if possible prevent people going in—Day went towards Lazarus' shop—when the van was long coming round Casey said, M Dear, dear, dear, there's our money lost for the evening"—he spoke

to two or three young men, and they went off to bring the van round—they went towards Shoreditch and then the van appeared—I mixed with the crowd—I went back to the shop previous to closing—I came out with Emmanuel Lazarus—the crowd started hooting and hissing—I heard, M Mob him!';—the crowd set upon us—I was a foot or two from Lazarus on his side—the police surrounded us—the crowd was furious, and put me in actual fear—I went to the railway station with Lazarus and the police—the crowd followed, shouting, hooting, and hissing all the way—the police crowded the entrance while Mr. Lazarus got in the train.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I cannot give you the name of an independent witness, because I am not conversant with the neighbour hood—I was examined at the Police-court—I made a statement to Mr. Lazarus the next morning—I said Casey was on the other side of the street speaking to Hodson—I did not hear what Hodson said—Casey spoke to a gentleman about Lazarus being waited on like a Crown Prince—Hodson was outside this Court when I came in—Emmanuel Lazarus sent me out, not to fasten on Casey's coat tail—I was out about an hour and a half—I heard Casey speak to several persons—I wrote my statement on the Saturday morning, when I had instructions from Mr. E. Lazarus; I handed it to him—I did not consider I was taking great trouble; I was executing the master's orders in business hours—I have not been promised anything—I only expect my ordinary wages.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNE. The crowd kept moving all the time—about twenty people were near Casey—a Mr. Roper was there, near enough to hear what Casey said—Day was about five yards from Casey when Day spoke to him—Roper was nearer than Day—when Casey said to Day, "Keep a strict guard over the door, "Day went across to the shop—others could hear—I do not know the shop assistants in Shoreditch—I have been six weeks in Lazarus's employment—I had not been employed in Shoreditch before that.

JOHN MYDLECOTT . I live at 10, Myrtle Road, Waltham-stow—I am a salesman to the prosecutor—I was present in the shop on the evening of the 30th—I saw Day passing backwards and forwards with the crowd from one corner to the other; I partly nodded my Read to him—I left with Mr. E. Lazarus at 9.30—I saw the rush at the corner—I received a kick or a blow in the back—the police gathered round us—the crowd caused me to fear—that was why we went out together—we could hear the mob hooting, yelling, and shouting.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. My fellow-assistants who were un molested in the crowd did not come out with the governor—the demonstration was directed against Mr. Lazarus—my employer is listening to my evidence—I should have been molested if I had gone out alone; I did not try it—I was amongst the crowd—they were shoving and pushing—it was impossible to take anybody in custody—the police were over powered—it was not necessary to make a complaint after it was over—I did not complain at the police-station—I did to a policeman in Kingsland Road—I do not know his number—I went back to the shop that same evening and complained to several—the crowd had not gone away—I was with others, or I should have been molested—I was with Gausden, Marshall, and others—three or four people standing outside the Standard

Theatre said, "That's one," and "That's him"—they did not attack us, we were too many of us in a body—I went to work the next morning—I complained very much of pain in my back—I made a statement—I did not write it—I was there on the Saturday—I am employed there—Mr. Lazarus did not see me about this matter—I was not a single day off from business.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I saw some of our assistants in the crowd—I was in terror before I went out of the shop—I knew nothing about Gausden's being out—I was outside from five to nine—I had as much as I possibly could do to keep the crowd out of the door—when it passed I was in fear—I was struck going to the railway station—the police came back to the shop with me—I came back and I found every thing all right; no windows broken—the police were there all the time—at one time it was impossible to pass, the place was entirely blocked—that was about 7.30—the police failed to keep the traffic moving for about three-quarters of an hour—it was impossible to keep them off the pavement—there was just room for a 'bus or a van to pass—the footway was blocked; a total block for three-quarters of an hour—only those could pass who were mixed up with the crowd—I heard Farquhar give his evidence at the Police-court—he was not in the crowd all the time—he was there between seven and eight—he said before the Magistrate the foot passengers had free passage—it is true if he said so—you could get past the shop front—there was a pole across the road—the block was in front of the shop—it was surrounded by the crowd, it was impossible to get through to the shop—the crowd was out to the tram lines.

Re-examined. It was necessary to bring the police there to keep the traffic open.

WILLIAM FARQUHAR (Police Inspector). On 30th October I was stationed with about a dozen constables outside the prosecutor's shop, in consequence of a communication made at the police-station—I arrived at about 5 p.m—I remained till about 9 p.m., the crowd gathered about 5.30, and gradually increased till nine to over 1,000 persons—it indulged in considerable hooting, hissing and yelling, and handbills were distributed relating to the Early Closing Movement—a band in a van passed through the street at intervals—its appearance seemed the signal for the crowd to indulge in further shouting, hooting, and yelling—it was directed against Mr. Lazarus, I should say—it interfered with the traffic, vehicular and foot—a number of people were in front of the shop—at nine, when Mr. Lazarus left, the crowd made an angry rush towards him, I surrounded him with constables, and in that way we passed into the railway station—the crowd hooted, hissed, and yelled all the way—a great number followed—I saw Casey standing near his shop—I saw Hurnell in the van at the last, when the rush was made—considerable disorder occurred at times—its demeanour would put an ordinary man in fear—the crowd dispersed after Mr. Lazarus left, after nine.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN This part is a boundary line between the G and H Divisions—in addition to my G Division men on duty, I had a number of the H Division—I recognised Other tradesmen looking on—Casey was a spectator—I have had notice to produce my book—another Inspector copied the report from my report—that is not here—it is not privileged—this is the "Occurrence Book "(produced)—my station is Hoxton Station—the H Division is Commercial Street—.

no person was taken to our station—the neighbourhood has been quiet since—Mr. Lazarus walked to the station—I have been in the Division four years—Casey is known as a peaceable law-abiding citizen.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. The foot traffic was kept clear and moving—it was obstructed—it was not stopped three-quarters of an hour—trams and omnibuses went through; and foot passengers—they had free passage past Mr. Lazarus's premises. (The report from the Occurrence Book was here read; it was similar to the witness's evidence, and recommended arrangements to be made to prevent obstruction the next Thursday in the event of the dispute not being settled)—that report is correct.

Re-examined. I had about seven men from the H Division—the traffic was not able to go by at the ordinary rate—the foot passengers could not pass without the aid of the police—I asked for instructions to strengthen the contingent for the following Thursday—without that protection the public could not use the street—there was no disturbance the next Thurs day—on the following Tuesday Casey and his companions were summoned before the Magistrate, Mr. Montagu Williams—the defendants under took that the disturbance should not be renewed, and as far as they were concerned there was none—they appeared a second time the following Tuesday—I gave evidence on the remand—on committing them for trial the Magistrate had an undertaking on their behalf that no fresh scene should occur—no further disorder has occurred.

REES DAVIS . I am employed by Messrs. Hopkins and Pegg, whose premises are exactly opposite the prosecutor's—I saw this crowd about six p. m.; about 500 shouting and yelling and throwing bills about—in consequence of what they were doing I went to the police-station about 6.30 to fetch the police—the crowd were blocking the street in front of the prosecutor's shop up to about eight p. m.—they were blocking the whole pavement—people could not look in the windows for the crowd—I saw Casey outside our large shop, No. 63, for five minutes at a time, between 6.30 and 8.30—I saw Day speaking to him—Casey came near my shop and said to me, "Ain't you going to close?"—that was about seven—I said, "No, we are not going to close, "and asked him why he asked—he said, "There'll be a big crowd here presently. "

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. There was a rumour that there would be a crowd—we close early on Saturday and keep open on Thurs day—the rest of the shops pretty well closed except ours and Lazarus's—the pavement looked crowded in front of the shop—I saw Mydlecott walking up and down—I have been in Shoreditch six years; I know very few there—the crowd was in the road and on the pavement—it was not so big on our side—Church Street is between Casey's shop and mine; also a public-house—Casey was standing not opposite the public-house, but opposite my shop—forty or fifty were serving in my shop that evening—I could be seen going in and out—I saw Casey outside his own shop; about eight I think—about 8.30 the disturbance was at its height—I saw Casey at the corner of Church Street after eight.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I saw several people speak to Casey.

GEORGE THOMAS EOPER . I live at 2, Beachcroft Road, Leytonstone—I am an assistant to the prosecutor—I was outside his shop about eight p. m.—Casey was standing near me—some one came and spoke to him—Casey said in answer, "See that the door is well blocked up"—they were

looking towards the prosecutor's shop—the person went towards the shop—a band came up—Casey said, "Not this time, next time the band comes round"—the person left—I went into the premises there was great confusion outside, and so much blockage of traffic that I was obliged to go in at the side door—about nine I left, behind Mr. Emmanuel Lazarus—the crowd closed, and a blow aimed at him struck me on the back of my neck—I felt the effect of it that night and the next day very much—it was a severe blow—the police protected us to the rail way station—Mr. Lazarus passed into the station—the crowd numbered thousands at nine o'clock—I heard shouting and outcries of a threatening character, like "Let them have it! ""Murder him!"" Three cheers for Casey."

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The police were very busy—I was sent out about seven p. m. by Mr. Lazarus to hear anything Casey might have to saw—I came back about 8.45—I was not in the neighbourhood of Casey the whole time—I was backwards and forwards, off and on, some minutes at a time—when the band came round Casey was standing near Church Street—I saw my employer when I went back; and the next morning I gave him my written report—he asked me to write it—that was after I had been in the crowd—I made no verbal communication to him of what I had witnessed in the crowd—I might have been half a yard from Casey—I heard him accurately—I did not catch, M See that the door is well blocked up to prevent as many people as possible going into it"—I heard nothing about plenty of people going in—I saw Gausden there—I have been in Shoreditch over six years—I am acquainted with very few tradespeople—I was between Casey and the man he spoke to—I can hear fairly well—Gausden was about the same distance from Casey as I was—I did not compare notes with Gausden—I did not know he was sent out by Lazarus till I saw him in the crowd—I did not have a conversation with him—I saw him the next morning—I do not know that he said he added the words, "To prevent as many as possible getting in"—I did not say, Your evidence differs from mine," because we did not compare notes—I did not know Hodson—I know him now—I do not know anything about him—I have said all I heard Casey say.

Cross-examined by MR. BUEWIE. I was not three or four yards from Casey when he spoke—I had not seen the man he spoke to before—I have since in the street and in the dock—he is Day—I did not mention Day before the Magistrate—I did not know him till I saw him in the dock—I saw him once before the Magistrate—then I identified him—I did not say so, because I was not asked the question—Mr. Lazarus asked me in the place once or twice—I told him I recognised Day about the time when the examination at the Police-court terminated—I do not know why it did not find its way to the solicitors—I did not put it in my statement, because I did not know him—I heard Gausden give his evidence before the Magistrate; he gave it after me—I have not said anything about it to Gausden since—I should say Day was not three or four yards from Casey—he was about half a yard away—a man two yards away, I think, would not hear the conversation.

Re-examined. Seeing Day now, I have no doubt he is the man to whom Casey spoke.

EDMUND ATTWELL . I am a butcher, of 69, Holywell Lane, Shoreditch,

two doors down from the corner—off and on, on the 30th, I first noticed the crowd about 6.30—it increased when the band came till a little after nine, when it dispersed—I heard lots of hooting—I had to be inside and outside a goodish bit—I was not out all the time—it went on pretty well the whole evening till nine, when shouting and hooting became violent, and the crowd excited—I was inside when I heard a terrific shout—I did not see Lazarns, but I noticed a rush of the crowd in one direction—that' was a little after nine—I could not get through the crowd to see what was the matter—I did not recognise anyone, it was quickly done—I heard hooting and hissing—I cannot say I have ever seen a Guy Fawkes procession.

HENRY GERARD . I am a builder, of 226 1/2, Shoreditch High Street—on Thursday evening, 30th October, I was standing talking to Mr. Peters, next door to Mr. Lazarus's, between 8.30 and 9-1 saw a great crowd, a band, and heard shouts—Day said to Mr. Peters, "This is hot for them to-night"—then he said to me he had seen me with Mr. Lazarus—I said I thought he was "doing it" in a very bad way to boycott Mr. Lazarus as he was doing—as he walked away he said on the following Thursday it would be ten times hotter if he were not closed—I remained till after nine—I should say there were 1,500 people—they were shouting and hooting—the traffic was stopped—I tried to enter the shop and could not.

Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. At times the traffic was completely stopped, both road and foot traffic, for three or four minutes perhaps—there would be free passage by going out in the road at times; on the pavement at times there was not; for a minute perhaps—Peters is a tailor; perfectly respectable—I said I thought they were doing wrong by boycotting—I was at the Police-court the first hearing—I was not called—I saw Day in a public-house between the first and second hearings—I did not ask him to have a drink—I may have told him I was a witness for I azarus—I did not say, "I'll make it hot for you"; not even without the adjective—there is not a word of truth in it—I was in attendance the second time—I was not called—no one else heard what Day said to Peters—he said it quite plainly.

JOHN EDWARDS . I live at 103, Mansfield Street, Kingsland Road—I am employed by Mr. Posener, a tailor in Hammersmith—I was at the corner of Holywell Lane, on 30th October, outside Lazarus' premises—I knew Casey by sight—he said, "Wait till the van comes, and go across the road, and give a good hoot near the door"—that was between 7.15 and 7.30—that was the second time the van passed—Casey was speaking to two or three where I was standing—I said I had just come from Hammersmith, and as a joke I said, "Even the public-houses there are closed—Casey said, "The only way to compel him to close is that the men should come out," and that he was in the hands of the assistants, and if they were to turn out he would have to shut up his shop; that being a large employer himself he would have to close his premises the same as Mr. Lazarus—people were standing round.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not attend at the Police-court—I had not seen the advice of the solicitors before the Police-court proceedings—I have worked for Casey once or twice—I did not tell you, because I was not asked—I was with him eighteen months—he discharged me because of slack time; not for drunkenness, to my recollect

tion—I left him one year and eighteen months ago—I had no quarrel with him or dispute—we did not agree about the pay—Mydlecott asked me to give evidence—afterwards Mr. E. Lazarus—I have no written paper—I have worked for Posener six or seven weeks—I know Bensemer—he is a respectable employer of work men—he has not employed me—I do not recollect a conversation with Bensemer about this matter—I saw him on 30th October—I did not fall against him, being drunk—he did not advise me to go home—I know James Barnes—I did not tell Bensemer I was well looked after, and if discharged Lazarus would take me on—Lazarus never promised me work—I was last working for Posener on Wednesday this week—I got a blue paper and half a sovereign—I took it the same as I should a shilling—I know the difference—Mr. Davis, the solicitor, came to me on Friday week.

Re-examined. I have had no promise.

JULIUS AARON . I am a cap manufacturer, of 21, Camomile Street—on Saturday, 25th October, I was riding with Casey in the same compartment on the Great Eastern Rail way—he was speaking of what happened on the 23rd, and he said if I went down the following Thursday I should see a "show. "

LEWIS ISAACS . I am a manufacturer's agent, of Forester Street, Mile End—on 31st October I asked Casey how it was he had not been down the Commercial Road to get the tradespeople there to close at five o'clock—he said he was too busy; I could do it myself if I would—he gave me some window slips, and asked me to go to Mr. Park, and get some large window bills—I said, "In the event of their not acceding, what would be the result?"—he said, "I will come down then and serve them the same as I have served Lazarus, and they will soon fall in"

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. That was the Friday after this disturbance—I was not commissioned to speak to the shop assistants—I volunteered on behalf of Mr. Lazarus being a friend of mine—I wanted to see how far Casey was connected with this movement: the riot—I have no connection with the shop assistants in Poplar, it was my own idea—I deal with Mr. Lazarus—I do not bet—I have not been a runner; I am troubled with the gout—I was never a runner—I was never at a race but once—I deal where I can find a market in soiled goods—I went directly after I left Casey, to tell Lazarus what had taken place—I put it on paper—I did not want to add to or diminish it—quarter of an hour did not elapse before I wrote it—I gave it, I believe, to Mr. Davis—I had nothing for my expenses—that is my proof a good deal abbreviated (produced).

Witnesses for the Defence.

EDWARD PHILLIPS . I am proprietor of the Great Eastern Stores, Shore-ditch High Street, a tailor's and outfitter's business of a precisely similar character to that carried on by the prosecutor and by Gardiner—I am about 300 or 400 ft. from the prosecutor's, on the same side of the way—about July I had a conversation with Abraham Lazarus, the prosecutor, about the number of hours we worked, and whether it would not be advisable to close earlier on one day in the week—he said he was quite willing, and asked whether I would take steps to bring about such a thing-some time afterwards I saw a petition with the prosecutor's signature to it, and I signed it—before 16th October I received a number of bills like this, to be put in the window, advising the public that the

premises would be closed at five o'clock on Thursday, 16th October—I met Abraham Lazarus almost immediately after receiving the bills, and told him I had received the bills, and was going to put them up in my window, and I supposed he was giving to do the same—he told me he did not intend to do so—I pointed out that he had signed the petition; he told me he had not done so, and I said, "Then is the signature a forgery, because I saw it"—he said his brother had signed it I said, "You surely do not repudiate the signature?"—and he said, "No"; if Messrs. Gardiner's did not close, he would not—I pointed out that there was no stipulation whatever when he signed—he mentioned about the heading, "Providing it was generally adopted in the trade"—I pointed out that was far too wide, as the tailoring trade extends over the kingdom; "Traders of shored "is the important part of it—he said he had made up his mind he would not close on Thursday, 16th—I sad that having signed he had certainly misled the other traders, because I have no doubt he, Casey, and myself are looked on as the largest traders in Shoreditch; our signatures were looked at before other people signed—on 16th, I believe, from what I heard that all the shops in Shoreditch closed—I closed at five o'clock—between 16th and 23rd I called on the prosecutor with Casey and Mr. Buck, a tailor in Shoreditch—we urged Abraham Lazarus to carry out his agreement, as we looked on it as being misleading—he would 'give no decided opinion, and did not seem to have made up his mind—I think he said he would write to Casey before the day closed—I reminded him of our previous conversation—on the 23rd Casey called on me and made a communication to me, and I went with him to the prosecutor's premises—both the Lazaruses were present—Casey said, "I have brought Mr. Phillips to prove what I said was the truth, although you called me a liar"—I think both Lazaruses said to Casey, M We told you not to come into our premises again; we won't have you here, get out"—a rush was made by the brothers, and they pushed Casey out; one laid hands on his collar—I was inside; I expressed indignation that I was brought there to witness such behaviour, and I said to Lazarus I was very much surprised at their behaviour, if I had known what was going to happen I would not have come there—Casey was naturally annoyed, and became very excited, and came back and offered to fight them, and I suggested to the brothers that they should go outside and fight him—when Casey and I first went in the brothers were very excited from Casey coming into their place at all—during the whole time I was in the shop I did not hear Casey say anything about forcing them to close—I have no particular leaning towards either the prosecutor or Casey; I am on friendly terms with both of them.

Cross-examined. For some time past I have been on friendly terms with the prosecutor—I have not taken particular interest in this early closing movement; I was very glad to close my premises, and I was in favour of the movement—there was no ill-feeling between us; the discussion was carried on in a most friendly spirit—after Lazarus s'gned, there was a difference of opinion between us as to the meaning of the words, "General adoption"—Casey showed no particular excitement when he came to me on the 23rd—the Lazaruses were standing inside their shop, close to the door, when we get there; they told Casey he was not to come into their premises again—they made no objection to my

going in—we both went in, I first—Casey said, "I have brought Mr. Phillips"—there was no attempt to prevent his coming in till after Casey spoke; then they pushed him out—I was surprised—I did not hear till afterwards that Casey had been in the shop before and had refused to leave—I did not hear he had had hot words with Lazarus, or that he told Lazarus to put him out, if he could, or that he jumped on the table and refused to leave—I understand by M general adoption "the adoption by tailors in Shoreditch only—it is an enormous district; there are as many tailors there as in many cities—I consider the conditions were fulfilled by 150 traders in Shoreditch having signed and closed—I did not consider, when I signed the petition, that such a firm as Messrs. Gardiner's, in Whitechapel, was included in it; it was confined to Shoreditch—the inclusion of Bethnal Green, Hackney, and Hoxton is owing to the activity of Casey, who obtained those outlying districts; but the petition only referred to Shoreditch; it is one branch—to this petition there were many signatures outside Shoreditch itself.

Re-examined. Before the Lazaruses laid hands on Casey I think they said, "You get out, we told you not to come here"—almost immediately after they said that they made a rush at him—when Casey came on the 23rd he said, "I want you to come round at once to Messrs. Lazarus; they have called me a liar"—I think I first spoke to Mr. Casey a very short time before the petition—I am impartial between the two parties—I hope my word is absolutely to be relied on—the assault on Casey was certainty not gentle—the majority of the tradespeople there adopted the early closing movement, and even last Saturday bills were up in some of the windows asking people not to shop after five o'clock; Mr. Peters has one very prominently—Whitechapel is a totally distinct district from Shoreditch.

DAVID SAMUEL WOOLF . I am a Jew—I am a tailor, at 169, 175, 185, Westminster Bridge Road—I have interested myself in this early closing movement on behalf of the assistants in South London—the words: "General adoption in the trade "mean in the district—our petition is the same, but it means the Westminster Bridge Road and New Cut—it does not mean all over the country, only the district in which you work—I have canvassed our district myself—I have known Casey twenty-one years as a peaceable, respectable, and law-abiding citizen—I was in his employment as a boy, and he was a true and kind master, and is quite incapable of what is charged against him; a man who bears, as far as I know, no enmity against any one.

EMILY STEVENS . I live at Turret Lodge, Walthamstow, and am Casey's sister-in-law—on 23rd October I went to see Ravenswood at the Lyceum—I came by the 5.30 train with Mrs. Casey to Liverpool street, where, at five minutes past six, Casey met us—we walked to the Lyceum—the play was over about eleven—from five minutes past six till after eleven Casey was in our company, and did not leave it for a minute—except during the adjournment, when he went out for five or ten minutes to get some refreshment.

CHARLES STAGG . I am an assistant to Mr. Birch, of 147, High Street, Whitechapel—I am in no way connected with Casey—I took a strong interest in the early closing movement, and in July I filled in this jet it ion—I went to the prosecutors with it—I saw Mr. Emmanuel Lazarus, and said, "I am getting up an early closing movement for shoreditch,

and your name would be of great service; will you sign the petition?"—he signed it—he said, "I will sign this petition with pleasure, but you will never get Mr. Casey to sign it"—I said nothing to him about general adoption or anything of that sort; I was getting up the petition to close in Shoreditch—neither he nor I said anything about conditions, except that he said, "You will never get Mr. Casey's"—I saw Casey some days afterwards; he signed it after Lazarus—I was a party to the meeting of shop assistants at' the Ship and Blue Ball on 27th October—to a certain extent that was to take steps to ask Lazarus to close—a deputation was pro posed to wait on Lazarus—Casey was not at that meeting, and had nothing to do with getting it up—at the close of the meeting just over £2 was collected from those present—Casey did not subsequently subscribe to that—no arrangements were made to try and coerce Lazarus; we only wanted a demonstration to show the public—I know who hired the band that played in front of Lazarus's premises on 30th October; it was not Casey—he did not contribute a penny to pay for the band—I acted as treasurer, and collected subscriptions at this meeting—not quite all the subscriptions were expended on the meeting of the 30th; but the greater portion was—the band was paid for out of that money—Casey did not pay one penny to that fund—there was an organised demonstration on 30th October, by arrangement beforehand—no programme had been issued beforehand to the band—I know the persons who organised the demonstration, and I could mention their names, they were shop assistants—I did not say I organised it myself; Casey had nothing to do with it.

Cross-examined. I was in this crowd on the 30th part of the time—I was not with the band when it went by Lazarus's premises the first time; later on I was there—I took no part in the rioting—I did not hoot nor groan; I heard a lot of cheering—cheering predominated, and if there was hooting I did not hear it, because the cheering drowned it—I was there from four or five up to past nine—I saw the band coming backwards and forwards the first part of the evening, and stop opposite the shop once when an omnibus came in front of it—the band went slowly in front of Lazarus's shop; it went past about six times—I saw Hurnell on the front of the van—I did not see him wave his hat or lead cheers and groans—he was in front of the driver, and threw bills to the people—Day is no relation of mine—from seven to nine I saw a crowd in front of Lazarus's shop, and on the other side of the way; it was not sufficient to block the roadway—I did not know it was necessary for the police to clear the people away from the front of the shop to allow people to pass—I did not see the police make exertions—I saw Day and Casey there—I did not see Day speak to Casey—I was not there when Lazarus came out—I went home about twenty minutes to ten—I left the street at two or three minutes to nine—I did not leave because I thought the crowd was getting too unruly; I refuse to say why I left the street; I am afraid to incriminate myself—this petition only refers to Shoreditch—I wrote to Lazarus on 9th October, "We are now canvassing Whitechapel, where we have already had some success, and in time, with the good example of Shore ditch, we shall have the greater part of Mile End," because I heard that Lazarus objected to a firm in Whitechapel—the petition did not refer

to all those places—the meeting was on the 27th, not on the 29th—it was a meeting to discuss the matter in a peaceable way, and to arrange for a deputation, but the demonstration was the outcome of it—there was only one meeting to my knowledge—there was no arrangement for a band to parade in front of Lazarus's shop—the band was arranged after the meeting; funds were provided at the meeting, and we wanted a band to demonstrate to the public, and we collected money, and that was the way it was spent—we had no arranged committee, we trusted in each other as assistants—Casey was not at the meeting on the 27th—I moved a resolution—I did not say that the leadership devolved on Henry Casey, I only alluded to him as regards getting signatures—Mr. Stacey talked about my getting signatures, and Mr. Lazarus's among others, and I said, "No, that honour does not rest on me, as Mr. Casey's name deserves to be a household word, as getting signatures"—I said nothing about "leader"—Mr. Sharkey, one of Mr. Casey's assistants, was at the meeting—he-said he was satisfied with the conditions under which he worked; he was not hooted at and howled down—Nathan, I believe, is in Casey's employ ment—he did not convey the money to the band—I did not hear who did it.

Re-examined. I believe Nathan is a witness for the prosecution on the back of the bill, whom they did not call, and I am myself—I and Nathan were subpœnaed for the prosecution at the Police-court, and not called—this letter was the only written communication I had with Casey about this movement. (This asked Casey to intercede with Mr. Lynes, and said that he and Pears were the only ones left U sign, and thanked him for his assistance)—Lynes was a large tailor in Shoreditch—I never said a word to Casey about having a band to play up and down in front of Lazarus's premises—on Saturday nights we leave off work at twelve, or sometimes afterwards—now we have a holiday on Thursdays in consequence of this movement—the district secretary "at the head of the petition refers to the secretary sent to work in the district, in which I am.

HENRY HURWIN (Sergeant H 21). Shoreditch is patrolled by the G and H Divisions, and Lazarus's premises are almost on the boundary line—we are on the same side as Casey's shop—on the night of the 3th a number of my division, uniform and detective officers, were on duty by Lazarus's place—I had charge of the men from six to eight—I saw Casey for a few minutes—I knew him years before I joined the police; I might say he is one of the principal and most respectable tradespeople of shoreditch—I did not see him any way misconduct himself or take part in the demonstration; I should not have thought he was connected with it, but for knowing he was a tailor, and seeing his premises closed—I saw him about twelve yards from his own premises, and about sixty from the prosecutor's, which were on the other side of the road—I have a beat of sixty yards backwards and forwards on the right-hand side, and I saw Casey the greater part of the evening—I saw him take no part whatever in the demonstration; he seemed quite indifferent.

Cross-examined. I was only there between six and eight—both of Casey's shops were shut up—I went in consequence of bills stuck in proximity to his place—it was my usual time for going there; I had six extra constables—the G Division were there before I got there; I know nothing of them—Farquhar would be one side of the way and I the other—there were two plain clothes constables on our side of the road—one

of Hopkins and Pegg's assistants asked me to keep their doorway clear if I could—it was necessary to keep the roadway clear on both sides there may have been 1,000 persons when the band went by—there was only a little hissing—if Farquhar says it was an angry crowd I should contradict him—it was a good-tempered crowd, laughing and passing jokes all the time.

Re-examined. I went there in the ordinary course of my duty at six—I did not see or hear of a single stone thrown or blow struck, I took no one in custody—there was no complaint of anything or of any person being taken in custody—Bishopsgate is rather broad about there—there was very little more difficulty for people to pass up and down than there usually is—Hopkins and Pegg's is an attractive shop, women and peram bulators generally monopolise the path there—r saw bills like these being given about—the crowd was good-humoured and chaffing rather than anything else—I was relieved by Sergeant Moffat.

THOMAS MOFFAT (Sergeant H R 5). I relieved the last witness on 30th October, about eight p. m., on the right-hand side going from Bishopsgate Goods Station—I patrolled about 100 yards, I suppose—I was relieved after the crowd dispersed about 9.30—from 8 till 9.30 I was on duty opposite Lazarus's—I hive known Casey between seven and eight years by reputation; he bears the character of a very highly respectable tradesman—I saw him there, I did not see him take any part in this demonstraion—he kept himself perfectly quiet, he was standing by himself when I saw him; perhaps a dozen yards from his own premises—about 1,000 persons were present when it finished—I took no person, and saw no person given into custody—I saw no blow struck, no charge was made at my station that I am aware of—it was not a dangerous crowd—it did not excite terror in me—I did not un-sheath my truncheon—there was shouting and hooting at intervals—I did not consider it was a disorderly crowd—I have kept the streets at the East-end during processions—there was nothing to distinguish this from a crowd collected on a sudden; there was no danger to property, as far as I could see—I saw no stone thrown, nor window broken, nor hat smashed.

Cross-examined. I relieved the other sergeant, who had other duties to attend to, in consequence of a communication at headquarters—I was opposite the prisoner's shop—Farquhar is an experienced officer—I did not see Day there—I saw Hurnell on the van, on several occasions, waving his hat, hooting followed—Casey was there the whole time I was there—Farquhar was more in the crowd than I was, and had better opportunities of seeing the demeanour of the crowd, I could not speak of what took place on the other side—I saw a rush take place when Lazarus came out—I did not see Hurnell in the crowd that made the rush; it appeared to be rather an angry but not a dangerous rush—the police surrounded some one, and escorted him to the station—I went there myself—the crowd followed, hooting and groaning—I heard no cries.

Re-examined. I went to assist the G Division if required; I was not required—there was no difficulty in Lazarus getting to the station—Casey whenever I saw him was always in the same position, close to his shop—I don't know that it was known beforehand at the Police-station that there might be any disturbance, or that Mr. Lazarus was the only

person in the High Street who did not close—I noticed no other Shore-ditch shopkeepers there in the crowd; I should not know them.

ELI GAUNTER (Detective Sergeant H). On 30th October I was on duty in Shoreditch High Street from six till 9.30 p. m.—I have known Casey seven or eight years; he is a respectable man and a peaceable, law-abiding citizen—I saw Casey on the east side of Shoreditch High Street, his own side of the way—I was not there the whole time—I saw him dozens of times; he took no part in the riot; he did not encourage the crowd, hoot, hiss, or do anything else than look on as a spectator—I saw Day—I saw other persons I know looking on—I took no one into custody—I saw no collision between the police and the crowd, no assault committed—I should say l,000 people were there altogether—the road is wide where Lazarus's shop is—there was not much obstruction to traffic—women were shopping there—further on there were costermongers' stalls, not quite there.

Cross-examined. I did not see Day hooting or shouting—I was on Hopkins and Pegg's side, and did not go on the other side, and did not notice what took place there—I saw Farquhar there with his men—I saw some one come out of Lazarus's shop, there was a crowd, and I saw a crowd of persons going towards Bishopsgate Station.

Re-examined. I saw no one require police assistance—I could move about and go where I pleased—I saw nothing on the other side of the way to call for any assistance—I did not see the police knock anyone down to clear the way to the station—no terror was excited in my breast.

SIDNEY KENDALL (Detective E). On 30tn October I was on duty in Shoreditch in plain clothes, from six till about 9.30, when all the disturbance was over—I have known Casey two years—he has the character of a peaceable and quiet gentleman—I was on Casey's side of the way, and I saw him mostly all the time—his shop is sixty or one hundred yards from Lazarus's—Casey was standing at the corner of Church Street, about twelve yards from his own shop, and a good fifty yards from Lazarus's—I saw him take no part in this demonstration or riot, I saw him standing unconcerne 1, smoking a cigar, with an umbrella in his hand—I took no person in custody—no charge or complaint was made at our station—there were about 1,000 people there—it was not a dangerous crowd, they all seemed good-humoured, chaffing, and larking—a few young lads were giving these green bills away to passers-by down the road—I did not see one in Casey's hand.

Cross-examined. I was keeping order on Hopkins and Pegg's side—I did not go on the other side—I saw Day once or twice by Hopkins and Pegg's—I did not see him walk from that side to Lazarus's shop; it was walking about, and did not take particular notice of him—I could not say if he spoke to Casey; I will not swear he did not—I was there of prevent pocket-picking and so on—I saw nobody to look after—I did not keep Casey under personal observation—I saw him the whole of the evening, from six to half-past nine—I hardly lost sight of him, because I was right at the corner of Church Street all the time—I was there when someone came out of Lazarus's, and the rush was made, and the police mixed up with the crowd; but I was fifty yards off, and I left it to Farquhar and his men.

Re-examined. I did not lose sight of Casey for more than five minutes

—I had my eye on him the whole evening—he was a passive spectator all the time—I saw some of the Shoreditch shopkeepers in the crowd-Casey was not singular in looking on; there were a great number of cabinet-makers there.

SAMUEL MORTLOCK (52 E R). I was on special duty on the right-hand side of Shoreditch on the 30th—I was five or six yards from Casey, and did not lose sight of him the whole time—I did not hear him say, "Oh dear, dear, dear! we have lost our money if the band does not. come up"—I did not hear him tell anyone to hoot—he stood there as if he was a disinterested person—I did not hear him say, "See that the door is well blocked up to prevent people coming in if possible"—if those things were said I must have heard them—he was smoking a cigar—he had one hand in his pocket most of the time—I was four or five yards from him from five till past nine o'clock.

Cross-examined. I was at a particular spot on the Hopkins and Pegg's side—I did not go to the other side, and did not notice what took place there—there are generally a good many people in front of Hopkins and Pegg's—I had no particular instructions to watch Casey—a crowd was passing along the middle of the street; there were a good few people on the pavements—I was put there to look after Hopkins and Pegg's window, but no one came there, the crowd moved up and down the road—I was there for four hours and twenty minutes—I did not lose sight of Casey for a minute all that time—he only passed a few yards to his shop across Church Street and back again—I might have lost sight of him for a second or two—I think a few gentlemen came and spoke to him—I did not see Day do so—I could not swear he did not—I could not hear what was said—I did not hear what Casey said—when I said that I must have heard anything that was said I thought Mr. Geoghegan meant if Casey was speaking to anyone in the crowd—I could have heard if he had talked to anyone of the crowd.

Re-examined. If Casey had called out anything to the crowd to be heard four or five yards off about the band coming, or about blocking the doorway, I must have heard it, but I could not have heard it if he said it in a quiet tone—Church Street is five or six yards wide, and Shoreditch is about eighteen yards—you can see easily from one side to the other.

SIDNEY SWEENEY (98 E). I was on duty in Shoreditch High Street on this evening of 30th October from 6.30 to about 9.30—I patrolled forty or fifty yards opposite the prosecutor's shop—I saw Casey very frequently standing at the corner of Church Street, not far from his shop—I did no speak to him—he stood almost entirely by himself—I saw him take no part whatever in this demonstration—I was often close to him—I heard him give no instructions to anyone—I made no charge that evening in connection with the demonstration—I saw no blow struck—there was a rare lot of traffic, but it was not quarrelsome—the crowd was very quiet, not angry—the street is four vans wide; traffic proceeded the whole evening—I was on duty in case of any obstruction; I had no occasion to interfere.

Cross-examined. I came on duty in consequence of express instructions—I heard no hooting, howling or hissing—I directed my attention to the Hopkins and Pegg's side of the road—I saw one or two passers-by come

up and speak to Casey, but he did not seem to encourage any conversation.

WILLIAM EDWARD HARRIFON . I am a hosier at 4, Church Street—I am in no way connected with Casey—on 30th October, about eight, I was in Shoreditch—I saw Casey on several occasions standing outside his shop at the corner of Church Street—I said a word to him and passed on—I was there till the end of this alleged riot—I did not see Casey take any part in it.

Cross-examined. I was moving up and down—I first said good evening to him, and he nodded and said good evening to me; for the rest of the evening I mixed with the crowd, and looked at what was going on.

ALBERT LARKING . I am assistant secretary of the Early Closing Association, at 100, Fleet Street—I was subpœnaed for the prosecution at the Police-court and here—I have declined to give them a statement—on 23rd October, I and Casey waited on Messrs. Lazarus in regard to closing at five o'clock on Thursday—I did not hear him tell Messrs. Lazarus that he would force them to close; all I remember that Casey said was, "Public opinion will be against you if you don't close"—there was no threat to coerce and make them close—Casey was very anxious, indeed, that Messrs Lazarus should give way.

Cross-examined. I am impartial—I did not tell Lazarus that if anyone was to blame it was Messrs. Gardiner; when they said their reason for not closing was that Gardiner did not, I said I thought it was a reason able objection, not a necessary one—at the interview on 23rd Casey and I were somewhat excited—nearly the whole of the conversation is gone from my memory; I did not attach much importance to it—if two wit nesses say that Casey said, "We will force you to close" I cannot contradict it; I should not be prepared to swear with or against them—Casey sat on a table and said, "If you wish me to go you had better turn me out,' but afterwards he left—he did not call Lazarus a liar—Lazarus said something about getting a policeman; I asked Casey to go out with me; I thought it would be in the interest of the movement if we left; I felt sure Mr. Lazarus would not join the movement if it went on.

Re-examined. Casey made no threat about forcing him to close—these petitions are always regarded by the trade as applying to particular districts; the question about their applying to districts outside has never been raised before—I never heard of any argument about this matter till Lazarus came into it; and these. circulars have been in use now seven years, to the best of my knowledge.

ARTHUR WOODHEAD . I am a tobacco manufacturer of High Street, Shoreditch; my premises front Bishopsgate Goods Station—on 30th October I was in High Street, Shoreditch; I saw Casey on the opposite—side to Lazarus's up till 8.45—all I saw him do was once talking to a gentleman—on 31st October Abraham Lazarus said to me, "I heard you were out there last evening"—I said, "Yes, I was"—I knew from common rumour there was going to be a demonstration, and went out to 8ee it; I was a mere spectator—he said, "And you saw Mr. Casey?"—I said, "Yes, I did"—he said, "Did not you see him trying to urge people on?"—I said, "No, I did not"—he said, "Now speak the truth, did not you?"—I said, "No, I did not, and I am not going to say I did if I did not"—I have been in business in Shoreditch all my lifetime, and

my father before me—we have been there thirty years, I should say—I have always known Casey as a neighbour, and as a man of respectable character, a peaceful and law-abiding man—I saw other Shoreditch shopkeepers looking on at what was taking place outside Lazarus's premises—it created no terror in me.

Cross-examined. I passed by Casey occasionally, I was walking about—I am not sure who it was I saw talking to Casey, I did not notice—I only saw one person speak to him, I cannot say if several did.

ERNEST BENSEMER . I am a master tailor, of Boundary Passage, Shoreditch; I live at Tottenham—I saw the demonstration in front of Lazarus's premises—I saw Casey, I was never more than three yards from him from six or ten minutes past six to 8.30—I did not see him encourage the mob in any way, or hoot or tell people to hoot—I saw Edwards, or Long George as we call him, coming along, and when he came close to me he partly fell on me; I should say he was the worse for drink—he asked mo to treat him; I refused, because I thought he had had enough—he said to Mr. Casey and the bystanders that the shops at Hammersmith were all shut up, and also twenty public-houses—the people laughed and said, "No wonder you are about here then"—he was the worse for drink; his hand was full of bills.

Cross-examined. He was hooting and making a noise—I have known him many years, and know whether he is drunk or sober—he is not a particular friend of mine—I have seen him in different shops in Shore-ditch—the remarks about the public-houses being shut were made to Casey and the bystanders—Casey said to him, "The best thing you can do is to go home"—I cannot say if that was after he had distributed bills—Casey was talking to different people on and off the whole evening—I saw him talking to Pay for about half a minute only once—I did not see Hurnell—I did not see two or three men in a group together there.

Re-examined. I heard, as nearly as possible, everything that Casey said to the persons who spoke to him—I did not hear him tell Edwards to give a good hoot as the band passed—I did not hear him say, "Go and block that door up, to prevent people going into the shop"—I did not see him throw his hands up and say, "Dear, dear, dear! all our money is wasted unless the band comes"—I was there from six till 8.30.

WILLIAM PATEMAN . I have been assistant to William Neithfield, butterman, of High Street, Shoreditch, next door to Mr. Casey's, for thirty-three years—I am not connected in any way with Casey—on the evening of 30th October I was looking at the demonstration—I saw Casey frequently at the corner of Church Street from about seven till nine—I spoke to him; I saw others speak to him; Woodhead was there for per haps a quarter of an hour on the first occasion—I crossed the road; I did not see Casey' do so—when I returned I found him still there, and spoke to him again—I saw him take no part in this demonstration; he was leaning on his umbrella, smoking a cigar—a good many other tradespeople were looking on like Casey.

Cross-examined. From time to time I saw Casey—I was fairly close to him from eight to nine, after we closed—I saw no person come particularly out of the crowd in front of Lazarus's shop and speak to Casey—some came from the crowd passing; I cannot say if they went back to

the crowd after speaking to him; they joined with the people passing in front of the shop; that occurred from time to time.

Re-examined. I cannot say exactly who were the persons who spoke to Casey—Mr. Woodhead was standing quite close to me.

JAMES BURNS . I am a working tailor, of 71, Nichols Square, Hackney Road—on 30th October I was near Casey's shop about 5.45—Casey was standing outside—I remained with him a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—I saw Edwards, who was drunk—I did not see Casey interfere with the mob, or urge them on, or take any part in the demonstration—as far as I know, he did not send people to look for the band—I did not see him speak to Edwards.

Cross-examined. I was on the scene till about 8.30—I mixed with the crowd—I saw Casey three or four times during the three hours—I saw two or three people talking to him, but I thought it was private business—I did not notice where the people who spoke to him came from—I do outdoor work for Casey.

RICHARD MANN . I am assistant to Beecher and Croft, tailors, 124, High Street, Shoreditch—I go home to Stamford Hill from Bishopsga'e Street station—on 30th October I travelled in a carriage with a friend of mine and Emmanuel Lazarus by a train about 9 20—Lazarus was speaking to his friend, and I said to Lazarus that I thought, considering what I had seen that night, it would be better for him if he closed on this night with the others—he said, "Well, you are something like the boy that s—fourpenny-pieces"—he did not appear to be in terror—he was laughing about it.

Cross-examined. I am in favour of this movement—I knew Lazarus had not closed—I do not approve nor disapprove of the demonstration—I did not think they would force him to close—I thought it would be more judicious if he did so—I made no insulting remarks to him till he insulted me—I passed a remark openly to my friend in the train, reflecting on the way Lazarus carried on his shop; he could hear it, I intended he should I knew he had been conducted to the station by the police—I don't know that I made a remark to annoy him—I swear he made use of the dif gusting expression.

Re-examined. I tale an interest in the movement—I am pretty hard-worked, and this is my only chance of a half-holiday—Lazarus was laughing and joking in the railway carriage, and showing no sign of terror.

EUGENE ERNEST BARON REED . I am one of the firm of Reed and Reed, solicitors, of Guildhall Chambers—we are solicitors for Casey here, and were on the second occasion at the Police-court, when Mr. Montagu Williams intimated his intention to commit the case for trial—I then said I should call witnesses here, and not there.

MR. BURNIE submitted that the first Count of the indictment was bad, because it was not alleged that the defendants were armed, or that they used threats or violence; that the circumstances which made it a riot must be set out in the Count, as it was not enough to allege that they assembled riotously. MR. BIRON having cited in reply Q. v. Phillips (2 Moody's Crown Cases), the COMMON SERJEANT said he should 1st the Count stand for the present, and would afterwards consider whether he should take any steps with regard to it.


The JURY being unable to agree as to Casey, were Uncharged from giving any verdict in regard to him.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-81
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

81. ELLEN REARDON (24) , Stealing £3 2s. Id., the moneys of Jacob Christenson, from his person.

MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.

JACOB CHRISTENSON (Interpreted). I am a fireman, living now at the Sailors' Home—I was in a public-house in Endell Street with the prisoner—I put my hand in the pocket where I had £3 2s., to pay for drink—the prisoner put her hand in my pocket and took my money out and ran away—I took her by the arm and drew her in again—she ran away again—I went outside and told a policeman—I next saw her at the station with several women, and picked her out at once.

Cross-examined. I met you in the street at ten o'clock—the proprietor served us.

WILLIAM HARDWICK . I keep the Eagle public house, Endell Street, Bloomsbury—on 17th November I saw Christenson and the prisoner there together—I served them with liquor—Christenson paid me; he could say "beer"—they were laughing and joking; he touched her in joke, and said, "Drink, drink"—I turned to ask my missus to get a police man—the prisoner got through the door—Christenson said, "Lost my money, lost my money"—the prisoner could hear that—she struggled to escape from the bar, and flew to the door—he followed and caught her back, and held her inside—I went round as soon as I could, and a constable was sent for.

Cross-examined. You came in about 10.15 with the sailor, and two other women followed, as if they were strangers; but no doubt, from what I saw afterwards, they were friends—you called the prosecutor" Jacob"—you said you had known him many years.

DAVID SINCLAIR (325 E). On 17th September I was on duty in Endell Street—the prosecutor made a communication to me, in consequence of which I arrested the prisoner about two and three quarter hours after the robbery, and took her to the station, where the prosecutor picked her out from other women—she said when charged that she had not been in the place the female searcher handed me a farthing—I know the prisoner is walking the neighbourhood.

The prisoner, in her statement before the Magistrate, said she left her house about ten o'clock and went into Mrs. Bonds public-house, High Holborn, and stayed there till twelve o'clock.

WILLIAM HARDWICK (Re-examined). I do not know Mrs. Bond's public-house; I am the proprietor of my house.

The prisoner, in her defence, said that she went into a public-house in Holborn with a friend, and then went along Drury Lane and into the Sun public-house, and borrowed a penny there.

GUILTY Six Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-82
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

82. GEORGE BROWN (34) , Robbery with violence, with other persons unknown, on Thomas Day, and stealing 6s. and a knife, his goods.

MR. REVINOTON Prosecuted.

THOMAS DAY . I live at 2, Dunstan Road, Kingsland Road—on the evening of 6th October I was in Kingsland Road about 10.40, when two persons attacked me from behind; one put his arm round my neck

and very nearly choked me, and the other put his hand in my pocket—I missed this knife and money—I informed the police.

Cross-examined. I did not see you before I saw you at the Police-court; I was knocked down insensible—I could not identify you at first—I said, "It is very like a knife my friend lent me"—I swear it is the knife I had.

THOMAS HULL . I am a gas-fitter, of 147, Haggerston Road—I lent this knife to Thomas Day; I swear to it.

Cross-examined. I lent it a fortnight before I gave evidence at the Police court; it was the 4th or 5th—I said the value of it was 6d., and I said it belonged to one of my workmen.

HENRY SMITH (16 J R). On 6th October, at 10.11, I was on duty at the Acton public-house, Kingsland Road, about' fifty or sixty yards from where the assault was committed, and I saw the prisoner there with another man.

ARTHUR PARKER (182 J). On 6th October I was on duty at Lee Street point, Kingsland Road, from nine to one—I saw the prisoner with another man pass by me two or three times about 10.40—it was about thirty or forty yards from where the assault took place—I saw the pri soner on the nights of 7th, 8th, and 9th at the same place—on the 9th I arrested him and another person on another charge—I found this pocket knife in the prisoner's trousers packet—I said to him, "What account can you give of this knife? where did you get it?"—he said, "I bought it eighteen months ago of a man, and gave 6d. for it"—I took it to Day, who identified it, and Hull identified it.

The prisoner called

BRIDGET RUSKIN . My husband Alfred is a type-founder—I live at 52, Flower and Dean Street—on the 6th October I met you outside coming from Pentonville prison—we went into several public-houses and had a lot of drink, and you were very drunk—I led you home to a common lodging-house, at 48, Flower and Dean Street, and we went to bed between ten and eleven—next day we had a lot of drink all day—I have not lived with my husband for seven years.

Cross-examined. The money the prisoner earned while in prison paid for all the drink we had—I have lived with him on and off for between five and six years—I brought him home—I have worked for the landlady, bedmaking, during the time the prisoner was in prison for twelve months—on the 7th October we got drunk, and the constable took me into custody, and I got 5s. or five days, and I came out on 12th October.

The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that he was met by friends on coming out of prison, and got drunk, and then was put to bed.

GUILTY of receiving . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in October, 1889, in the name of George Hartley.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Saturday, November 29th, 1890.

Before Mr. Recorder

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-83
VerdictsGuilty > pleaded guilty; Not Guilty > no evidence
SentencesMiscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

83. HERBERT HORSFALL PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully making and concurring in making a false entry in a petty cash-book, the property of Arthur Finch and John Turner, his masters. He received a good

character.Discharged on recognisances. There was another indictment against the prisoner for embezzlement, upon which no evidence was offered

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-84
VerdictGuilty > with recommendation

Related Material

84. EUGENIE ROULLIER, alias M. E. FLORENT (26) , Unlawfully attempting to procure Nellie Maud Baskett, aged 19, to have unlawful carnal connection with one Wilson outside the Queen's dominions. Other Counts, for attempting to procure her to have connection with a person unknown, and to become a common prostitute, and for conspiring with Wilson to procure her to have connection with Wilson and with a person unknown outside the Queen's dominions.

MRSSRS. C. MATHEWS and H. AVORY Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.

GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the JURY, believing her to have acted under the influence of Wilson. Four Months' Imprisonment.

FOURTH COURT, Wednesday, December 3rd; and

THIRD COURT, Thursday December 4th, 1890.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-85
VerdictGuilty > unknown; Guilty > with recommendation
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour; Miscellaneous > sureties

Related Material

85. CHARLES COTTON (17) and ALFRED FOX (17) , Robbery with violence on George Batten, and stealing a locket, his property.

MR. TYRRELL Prosecuted.

GEORGE BATTEN . I live at 14, Little Essex Street, Kingsland Road—on 27th November, about 4.30 or 5 p.m. I was in New North Road; it was a bit foggy—I fancy the prisoners ran out of a lodging-house after me; I did not see them—one of them took my arms behind me, and Cotton broke my locket off my chain; I saw him, he was in front of me; I knew him by sight—I followed them; they went behind St. John's Road School; there they kicked and knocked me about, and bruised me all over up against the railings of the school, and Fox kept saying to Cotton, "Give it to him back," and he Would not; he said, "No, I shan't give it to him back, let us keep it"—I ran after them again and lost sight of them—I told a policeman in Hoxton, and then I went to the station—I next saw the prisoners among eight or nine boys at the station, and I picked them out directly I went in—this is the locket—I might have made a mistake at the Police-court about the time; it was a little after ten when I got to the station to identify them.

Cross-examined by Cotton. I did not meet you and say," Where is Junk and Henry?"—I never spoke to you in my life; I only know you by sight—I did not say, "I see you are getting on all right"—you took my locket while Fox held my arms—this is my signature to the depositions; I said before, "Each of them held one of my arms, and both took the locket"—eight or nine years ago I would not go to school, and father asked the Magistrate if I could go to school, and he would pay for me, and I went to the Feltham Schools—I was never charged with stealing—I have never been convicted—I never slept in the same bed with you.

GEORGE LEECH (Sergeant G 23). On 27th November, at 5.30 p. m., I received information from Batten, in consequence of which I and Ash-wood took the prisoners in custody at ten—they were together on Rosemary Branch Bridge, Hyde Road, Hoxton, about 300 yards from where this is stated to have occurred—the prosecutor had given a description—I told them the charge—Cotton said, "You have made a mistake"—Fox said,

"I know nothing about it"—at the station they were placed with ten others, and identified by Batten very readily—just before the charge was taken, Cotton said, "Here is your b——locket; I only took it for a lark;" he produced it from his waistcoat pocket, I think.

Cross-examined by Cotton, Batten said he thought he could produce some witnesses, and he tried to find them in my company without success; they are hard to find in a neighbourhood like Hoxton.

By the JURY. Batten's face was swollen and very red, and he had several scratches on his left cheek; his wrists were very red, as though they had been held tightly—his eyes were swollen, and he complained of kicks on the body; I offered him a doctor, but no doctor saw him, as his father said his mother was the best doctor for him—I should not expect him to be so treated for a lark—the prisoners are companions; I have seen them together, and I have seen the prosecutor with them—about nine years ago, in consequence of Batten's father being summoned for Batten not going to school, he was sent to a reformatory school, his father contributing to his support, and since then he has had a good character; he has worked for nine months at one place, and has since been in respect able employment—he complained to me about 5.30, and he said it was about an hour before.

THOMAS ASHWORTH (446 E). I was with Leech on 27th November when the prisoners were arrested—they said they knew nothing at all about it—about five o'clock I saw Batten; the left-hand side of his face was all bruised; his eye was very much swollen, and his wrist red—at the station Batten picked out the prisoners at once from several others—after the charge was taken Cotton pulled out this locket from his right-hand waistcoat pocket, and threw it on the table, and said, "There is your b——locket; I only took it in a lark"—Leech said to the prisoners, "If you only took the locket in a lark, what did you want to knock the boy about for?"—they both denied knocking him about.

By the JURY. The prosecutor is a companion of these boys—I have been six years in Hoxton; I have known Cotton for many years.

Cross-examined by Cotton. You were committed for trial because of the violence.

GEORGE LEECH (Re-examined). I asked the prisoners why they knocked the boy about; they made no reply; they were dumbfounded to think they were picked out.

Cotton, in his defence, said that they met the Prosecutor, but asked what could they want to take anything from him for. Fox stated that it was only done for a lark, and not to rob him, and that they did not knock him about.

GUILTY . The JURY recommended Fox to mercy.

They then PLEADED GUILTY** to convictions of felony; Cotton in July, 1890, and Fox in February, 1890. COTTON— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. FOX— Discharged on recognisances.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-86
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

86. WILLIAM BOWEN (21) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Edwin Friend, with intent to steal.

MR. DOUGLAS Prosecuted.

AMELIA FRIEND . I am the wife of Edwin Friend, a stoker; we live at 27, Bastwick Street, St. Luke's, and I keep a little general shop there—there are rooms above the shop, but we occupy a room on the ground floor behind the shop, and there are no rooms above it; it is lighted

by a skylight—on Saturday, 16th, I went to bed with my husband about one, the house was fastened up—we can lift up the skylight; it was not open on this night, but you cannot fasten it down—we had four children in the room with us; a hanging lamp was alight in the middle of the room, and a table was at the side—we were awakened about half-past three by the table falling—I saw a young man in the room by the easy-chair, by the fireplace, and a long pole was in the room reaching up through the skylight from the ground—I screamed, and picked my baby up to rush out—and some one by the skylight called out to the man in the room, "If she dares to move, you blow her b——brains out"—the man in the room then went up the pole and out through the skylight—then one of the men poked his head through the skylight and said, "Are you going to give us a few shillings? or else I will take your life"—my husband said, "I am only a working man the same as yourself, take my advice and go"—the voice said, "I am off, then," and they went away—the young man in the room, when we woke up, said, "Let us get out, Charlie; I have made a mistake and come into the wrong house"—my husband is Charlie—I saw something shining in the hand above from where the threatening voice came—I could not say what it was—I waited a little time and then spoke to a policeman, and gave a description of the man in the room—next day I went to the police-station and picked out the prisoner from among a number of men—I had never seen him before except on the same Saturday, when he came into my house for change for 6d., between one and two, and again between eight and nine—I swear to him—there were two scaffold-poles lying in the yard of the next house to us; one was taken from there—he said, "I meant going into 19"—my husband told him to go.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you in our room.

EDWIN FRIEND . I am a stoker, and the last witness's husband—she keeps a shop in Bastwick Street—on this morning I was awakened out of sleep by a noise in the room, and I saw a scaffold-pole, 16ft. or 18ft. long, at the foot of my bed, one end on the floor, and the other end through the skylight—I saw a man standing behind the scaffold pole, near an easy-chair—he said, "All right, Charlie, I have made a mistake; I am going to No. 19"—then I said, "You had better get out as soon as you can"—while I was speaking, a man above put his arm through the skylight with something in his hand, I thought it was a revolver, I won't be sure—he said, "If you touch him I will shoot your b——brains out, and your missus's too"—I said, "You had better get out as quick as ever you can"—he climbed up the pole, and when he got up on the roof, I pulled the pole down and put it across the room—a few minutes after a man came and put his arm through the skylight, and said, "You had better give us a few shillings, or I will blow you b——brains out"—I said, "I am only a poor man. I cannot afford it, I have got to work for my living"—he said, "Oh, all right," and was off—the pole was one of two that had been in the next yard for about eighteen months—I communicated with the police—next day I went to the police-station and picked out the prisoner from about ten or twelve others as the man I had seen in the room—I have not the slightest doubt about him; I had a decent lamp hanging from the ceiling, and there was a good light—Mr. Gover and three or four families, I

believe, live at No. 19—our room is the only one in the street with a skylight—I have only a shop and one room.

RICHARD WRIGHT (84 G). At 4 p. m. on the 18th I apprehended the prisoner in Sutton Street, Clerkenwell—I said, "I shall take you into custody and to the station; I suppose you know what for?"—he said, "No, I don't know"—I said, "For breaking into a place in Bastwick Street"—he said, "All right, I will go"—there was a printed information and description at the station—Mr. and Mrs. Friend picked him out without the slightest hesitation from seven or eight others, I should think.

RICHARD DAYBELL (Inspector G). I examined these premises next morning—I found a scaffold-pole there—access could be obtained to the bark of this by passing the passage of the house adjoining, the door of which is always left open, and over the wall—the scaffold pole could have been obtained from the yard—the floor of the room where the Friends sleep is about nine or ten feet from the skylight—the roof could be reached by climbing a low wall and getting on to a ledge.

The prisoner called

EMMA BOWEN . I am the wife of William Bowen, a journeyman silver refiner at Claw Street, Sutton Street, and the prisoner's mother—I have no other witnesses here for you; I could not afford to pay them 5s. a day—on this night you left jour wagon at eleven o'clock in Sutton Street; I saw you come along; you said, "Goodnight, mother," and went with your young woman to the Coach and Horses in George Street, and stopped till the house was closed at twelve o'clock—that was the last time I saw you; you did not come home, for you were for a week sleeping at a lodging-house, as you had had a few words with your father, and said, "I wont come home no more"—next day, Sunday afternoon, at a quarter to six you went upstairs and put on a clean shirt—two days afterwards I asked you what you had been doing, and you said "Nothing"—I said, "You have got a pretty character, breaking into the chandler's-shop woman's place"—he said, "Who said so?"—I said, "The lady at the chandler's shop told me"—he said, "I don't know what you are talking of; I was in my lodgings on Saturday night; I don't know nothing about it," and he spoke about a soldier who was supposed to be in it, of the name of China Welsh; he said he did not see China Welsh on the Saturday night nor Sunday night; he went back to his furlough on Monday morning—I saw him pass my door on Sunday morning with two or three more—I did not see the prisoner again till I saw him walking with a police man on Tuesday morning.

By the COURT. The chandler's shop is 27, next door to me—my son lived with me in the same house.

AMELIA. FRIEND (Re-examined). I had only lived there six weeks, and did not know the prisoner lived next door to me—I had seen Mrs. Bowen in the street, but I did not know she lived next door—she asked me on Monday morning what sort of young man had come into my room, and I told her, and she said, "That is my son."

GUILTY .*†— Ten Months' Hard Labour.

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-87
VerdictGuilty > lesser offence
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

87. HENRY LAMB (30) , Feloniously wounding James Gallagher, with intent to resist the apprehension of James Keefe. Second County with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.

MR. ST. AUBYN Prosecuted, and MRSSRS. BURNTE and TURRELL Defended.

JAMES GALLAGHER (G 350). About 12.45 a.m. on 5th November I was on duty in Whitecross Street, St. Luke's, and saw a crowd round two men quarrelling there—the prisoner was there—one of the two men was drunk—one went away, the other, Keefe, refused to do so, and I took him into custody—Sergeant Guthrie was with me—I brought Keefe a short distance; Guthrie was on the other side of him; he was struggling—the prisoner pulled some sharp instrument from his pocket and deliberately struck me on the nose with it, saying, "God blind me! don't take a liberty; if you do I will"—he had said nothing previously—I let Keefe go, and followed the prisoner into Bed Lion Market, where I lost sight of him—Guthrie came up after me—about two and a half hours after I saw him brought into the station in custody, and I identified him—my wound was dressed immediately by Dr. Cliffe—I was in uniform—the wound was a bad one; it cut right into the cavity of my nose; it was very painful, and I feel the effects now in cold weather—I am positive the prisoner was the man.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was standing outside a public-house about ten yards from where the men were quarrelling—I don't know if he works at the public-house—he was taking no part in the quarrel—we had as much as we could do to take Keefe—we had gone about half a mile with him—a crowd was about us—the first that attracted my attention was a stab on my nose; it bled profusely—I could not say with what I was stabbed—the man who stabbed me got away in the crowd—the prisoner was afterwards brought into the station as the man who had stabbed me, and I charged him—he was not very drunk—the man who stabbed me was very drunk—I had seen the prisoner before several times—I knew him by sight.

JAMES GUTHRIE (Sergeant O 19). I was with the last witness at 12.45—two people were quarrelling—I was assisting him to take Keefe to the station when the prisoner jumped from the crowd in front of us and said, "Don't take a liberty, constable," and then he raised an instrument, and I think he said a second time, "Don't take a liberty, or God blind me! I will"—he pulled an instrument out from his side; I could not tell what it was, it glistened very clearly—he dealt the constable a blow in the face, like a thrust, and ran away—I told the constable to go to the station; we followed the prisoner some distance—we let the other man go—the prisoner ran up a court out of Whitecross Street into Bed Lion Market—I cannot say which of five houses he went into; I went into two before I came to the prisoner's house, No. 11, where I found him in bed with his trousers on—I said, "Harry, I want you"—he replied, "Oh, my wife and children, governor, I did not do it "I had not charged him with doing anything—I said I should take him to the station for stabbing the last witness—when charged at the station he said, "I don't mind doing it"—he was in the first stage of drunkenness; he seemed capable of getting about, he could run and walk very well, but he had been drinking—I knew him very well—I have not the least doubt he is the man.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that in my opinion the prisoner was drunk—my deposition was read to me, and I signed it as correct—before it was put in the deposition I wanted to explain that the man appeared to me to have been drinking—it is a very rough neighbourhood

—all this was done in a very few minutes; there was a crowd—I do not think it took a minute the way he did it—he ran up the court—I did not hear Gallagher say he ran back into the crowd—he passed the crowd and run up the court—I saw his back when he ran away—a narrow passage leads into Red Lion Market from the court—I last saw the min turn into the court—I did not see him in the market—there are two other entrances to the Red Lion Market, I believe—no one was visible when I got into Red Lion Market.

By the JURY. I arrested the prisoner about one and a quarter hours after the blow was inflicted—I was searching for him all the time, I knew he lived in the market, and I should have searched the other houses if I had not found him—I had searched two houses thoroughly before I found him—I found two trowels in the house he was in, there was no blood on them—they were shown to the surgeon at the Police-court, and he said neither of them would inflict the injury.

MARTIN LUTHER CLIFFE , M. R. C. S. I live at 20, King's Square, St. Luke's, and am acting for the divisional surgeon of police there—on this night I was at the Old Street police-station and saw the prosecutor, who was suffering from an incised wound on his nose, about one and a half inches long and half an inch deep—it severed through the cartilage of the nose into the nasal cavity—I dressed the wound—he bled very much—before I left the station the bleeding recommenced—I applied compresses and bandages—I had previously stitched the wound—the division was so complete that the nose fell on the upper lip—in my opinion the wound was caused by a thrust or stab from some sharp cutting instrument—the blow was on the right side, and slightly from above downwards—a table knife, if it cut on both edges, would have caused the wound; it was a punctured wound, cutting right through on both sides—a sharp trowel or carpenter's chisel, or anything of that kind could have caused it, a ring on a finger could not—he will always bear the mark, a bad scar—it was a very severe wound—the trowels I saw could not have caused it; they had mortar on them.

GUILTY* of unlawfully wounding. Twelve Months' Hard Labour ,

24th November 1890
Reference Numbert18901124-88
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > hard labour

Related Material

88. BERNARD DESSER (24) , Unlawfully obtaining from William Moore a cart and 5s. by false pretences, with intent to defraud, and other misdemeanours.

MR. ST. AUBYN Prosecuted.

THOMAS WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am a corn dealer, of 5, Commerce Street, Tottenham—the prisoner has been my customer for four or five weeks—on 4th October he ordered about 3s. 3d. worth of corn, and he then owed me 2s. 9d. for a fowl—he gave me this cheque for £1 18s. 6d. in payment. (This was on the Central Bank, payable to B. Benjamin, signed Desser Brothers and Co., and endorsed B. Benjamin)—I thought it was good—I paid it away to one of my travellers, and it was brought back on the next Wednesday marked "N. E."—I knew where the prisoner lived, but I did not know his name.

Cross-examined by the prisoner, through an interpreter. You had the fowl at the time you gave the cheque; the corn you had had a week before—I have given you credit before.

Re-examined. I gave the prisoner £1 12s. change, believing the cheque was good—he spoke broken English; I could hardly understand it—

I think he can hardly understand English—he had an interpreter at the Police court.

WILLIAM MOORE . I am a builder, of Circular Road, Tottenham—on 11th October the prisoner came to buy a cart—I only knew him by sight; I did not know his name—he offered £2 and an old cart which he after wards brought with him—he gave me this cheque for £2 5s. (On the London and Provincial Bank, Tottenham Branch, payable to B. Benjamin, signed Detcher and Co., and endorsed B. Benjamin)—I thought it was a good cheque, and gave him five shillings change—I knew him as living in Tottenham; his stables were about 200 yards from where I live—on the 23rd I saw Air Mart at the New Plough Inn, and in consequence of something I heard I went over and saw the prisoner at Mart's shop—he tried to hide from me, and looked frightened—I saw my cart and the pony outside—a crowd collected, a constable came, and the prisoner was taken into custody—I paid the cheque away, and it was returned to me.

Cross-examined. It was on a Saturday you gave me the cheque; you did not tell me to change it on the Monday—it is a crossed cheque—I did not have the cheque five minutes before I passed it.

HIRAM SOLOMON HAIMSOHN . I am a passage agent, at 20, White-chapel Road—on 13th October the prisoner asked me to change this cheque for him—he had been in before to make inquiries. (This was for £5 10s., drawn by Dacher and Co. on the London and Provincial Bank, Tottenham Branch, payable to Mr. Benjamin)—I said I was not in the habit of changing cheques, and at first I refused to do it—he said, "You did me a favour before, and why will not you do it now?"—I had previously changed a cheque for him which was honoured; that was drawn by Silber and Fleming, of Wood Street—I asked him whether this cheque was as good as that, and he said, "This cheque is drawn by a respectable City firm"—I asked him his name—he said, "My name is Benjamin, of 105, Oxford Street"—I asked why he did not change it at the bank, as it was an open cheque, and he said he wanted the money very particularly at once to pay away, and as the bank was at Tottenham it would take him three hours to go there and back, and I should oblige him if I would change it—on his assurance that it was good I gave him the money—he said, "If you want to get the money at once it will cost you 6d. there and back; you can deduct 1s. for that—I gave him £5 9s., and gave the cheque to my father next day, and on the following Friday he brought it marked "N. S."—on the evening of that day and several times I went to 105, Oxford Street, East, but I never found any trace of the prisoner—he endorsed the cheque in my presence "B. Benjamin"—my father paid it into the bank a second time, and it was returned marked "Account closed 23rd October," I think.

Cross-examined. I change foreign money; I have no banking business—I believe I sold you a ticket to Hamburg for 14s. 6d.—seven or eight days before the cheque transaction you brought me some 6-mark notes, and I changed them—the Silber and Fleming cheque was five or six months before; I cannot remember if I took commission on that—a woman opened the door at 105, Oxford Street, East, and said he had gone into the country, and would not be back before Monday.

Re-examined. I spoke to him in German; he can speak broken English—at the Police-court he cross-examined the witnesses in broken English.

JACOB CASHTEIN . I am a Jew's butcher, of 122, Wentworth Street, Whitechapel—on 22nd October the prisoner, who had bought meat of me several times, and owed me 5s., gave me this cheque for £2 18s. 6d., and told me to take the 5s. and also 1s. 4d. for some meat he would take—I gave the cheque to my daughter, who gave the prisoner the whole change, and then he gave me 6s. 1d.—I believed the cheque was good.

Cross-examined. You were not a regular customer—I gave you the meat—I sent ray little boy out with the cheque to someone in the market to change it, and they had no money, and he brought it back, and then I changed it.

BESSIE CASHTEIN . I assist my father—on 2nd October the prisoner came in and talked to my father, who then handed me this cheque, and told me to cash it—I gave the prisoner £2 18s. 6d., and he gave me 6s. 4d. back, which he owed for meat—I never knew the prisoner's name—the cheque was endorsed when he brought it, B. Desser—I thought it was good when I gave him the money. (The cheque was on the London and Provincial Bank, payable to B. Desser, and drawn by Dechser.)

JOHN MART . I am a furniture dealer at High Road, Tottenham—on October 23rd I went from the Plough to my shop, where I saw the prisoner buying a looking-glass for 13s—he asked me to change him a £4 10s. 6d. cheque—I said I had not got the money; he could get it changed opposite—he said, "Cannot we go next door? "meaning the Ship public-house; I said, "No, I will, go over the way to the Plough"—James Moore, brother of William Moore, is manager of the Plough—the prisoner gave me this cheque—I went and came back, and said William Moore would bring the money—after two or three minutes William Moore walked over, and James Moore followed him—when William Moore came in the prisoner was excited, and rushed at me, and asked where his cheque was—I showed it to him, and he tore part of it out of my hand—this is all that remains of it; it is on the London and Provincial Bank, Tottenham—he said, "Give me the cheque back, and hide me, hide me; I don't want to see Mr. Moore!"—a, struggle took place—Detective Sergeant Murphy came up, and I handed the prisoner over to him, with the remains of the cheque—I noticed a cart outside with furniture in it; it was not bought from me—William Moore said, "This cart is mine."

Cross-examined. You were purchasing the looking-glass from my mother; she and my father were in the shop—when I brought the cheque back my mother said, M Give the poor wretch his cheque back and let him go."

ALFRED ROBERT TURNER . I am a cashier at the Central Bank of London, Whitechapel Branch—on 11th January the prisoner opened an account in the name of Desser Brothers and Company, 58, New Street, New Road East—he paid in certain sums of money, amounting in all to £106, down to 13th June, and on that day the account was over drawn to the amount of 11d.—since then nothing has been paid in—on 13th June I issued the last book of blank cheques to the prisoner; it was the charge for them that overdrew his account—his passbook was applied for—there was nothing to meet the cheque on 10th October.

Cross-examined. You opened the account and had these transactions—

I saw you before you went into the manager's room, and while you were there; you signed the book—I have not the slightest doubt about you.

HUGH BONNOR . I am a clerk in the Tottenham Branch of the London and Provincial Bank—on 10th October the prisoner opened an account in the name of Barnett, Dechser and Co., bag manufacturers, 13, Siddons Road, Tottenham—he paid in £5—I have him a book of 24 cheques—these cheques are all from that book—he paid in nothing after the first £5—this cheque for £5 10s. was presented on October 11—£4 18s. was then standing to his account—there was money to the account when this £2 5s. cheque, dated 10th October, was drawn, but not when it was presented—when this for £2 18s. 6d. was presented, there were not sufficient funds—on 11th and 13th October he had a balance of £4 18s., on the 22nd and 24th 2s—we closed the account because it was so very small—we had no references; we do not open accounts in that way as a rule.

JAMES KIRK WOODALL . I am a house agent, of 2, Stirling Road, Tottenham—on July 25 the prisoner took the house, 13, Siddons Road, at 8s. a week, in the name of Benjamin—he occupied it from 25th July to 20th October—this is his rent-book.

Cross-examined. You brought a gentleman with you when you took it—you gave as a reference Mr. Dechser, but I did not apply, as I took a week's deposit in advance.

EDWARD CRABB (N 446). On 23rd October I took the prisoner, and told him, in English, he would have to go to the police-station&#